#i thought it had been lost in the tumblr abyss

[sarahs-library]

Forgotten

In which an unfortunate turn of events leads to Azriel forgetting his very pregnant mate.

Words: 2541

A/N - Hi everyone, this is my first foray into publishing work online and like everyone else I am preparing for CC3 by re-reading all of SJM's work. I've been inspired by all the lovely Azriel/Reader pieces I've seen on tumblr as of late and have decided to contribute my own.

Part Two ☪ Part Three

Forgotten Universe: Pretty Eyes

Azriel

Heavy waves of unconsciousness threatened to drag Azriel further, deeper into the abyss. The roaring in his ears drowned out rational thought. Tongue dragging against the roof of his dry mouth he reached out for something to anchor him, carting his hands through silk sheets. His skin burned.

“Azriel?” Elain’s sweet voice floated through the darkness. Azriel fought against the fatigue to open his eyes. The brightness strained and he tried to focus. Light filtered through the window, highlighting beautiful features and the golden hues of her hair. She leaned forward, taking a pitcher of water from the bedside table to fill a glass, holding it up to his lips so he could drink. A small smile quirked the corner of his mouth in gratitude and he worked his dry lips around the rim. One hand came up to support the glass, holding it over Elain’s own, an excuse to feel her smooth sun-kissed skin.

He hadn’t seen her since the disaster of the almost kiss and his words, ‘this was a mistake’, had haunted him endlessly in his sleepless nights. The regret hadn’t stopped the images that plagued him. How she would look underneath him, or riding him, the faces she’d make as he brought her pleasure, the sweet songs she’d sing for him as she climaxed. Even Rhy’s warning hadn’t been able to tame the desire he felt for the middle Archeron sister; in his half delirious state he was content to take advantage of the closeness the opportunity offered. His eyes roamed her face, following the tantalizingly exposed skin of her neck down to where the bust of her pale pink gown hid her breasts from his view.

Satiated, he pulled his head away and managed to croak out a small word of thanks. Elain’s brows furrowed as she searched his face for something, finding it lacking.

“We’ve all been so worried about you.” Azriel frowned, finding it difficult to care about anything other than admiring her beauty in the light provided by the rising sun. He made a noncommittal sound in the back of his throat and traced the delicate bones of her wrist under his fingers where his large hand still dwarfed hers. She pulled back, placing the glass on the bedside table and he felt words of protest trying to break free. Come back he thought, his appetite to feel more of her supple skin under his own ignited.

Contentment rose in him as she leaned closer once more, this time placing the back of her hand against his forehead. Perspiration clung between their skin; Azriel resisted closing his eyes and basking in the warmth erupting in his chest. Memories of his mother flooded back, in a daze he felt himself being carried through the few times in his childhood when she’d been able to care for him as he had yearned for. This position brought Elain even closer to him, affording him a delightful view of what lay beneath the top of her dress with a downward cast of his eyes. He soaked in where the tan from her time in the gardens morphed into untouched alabaster and ruminated on how it would taste under his tongue.

“You’re still burning up, I’ll send for Madja.”

“No,” he reached to grasp her hand as she pulled back. “Stay.”

 Elain worried her plump bottom lip between her teeth as she fixed her rich chestnut eyes on his face. Azriel couldn’t draw his gaze away from how the baby-soft skin looked trapped under her incisor, imagining how it would feel under his own. He watched as her eyes lost focus, she seemed to stare straight through him. He knew the look; could recognise the blankness imposed by communicating with daemati. Which meant that Rhys would be coming soon.

He sighed, perturbed by the impending interruption. He reached for his shadows, hoping that they would at least give him some advanced warning but found them missing. Frowning he tried to sit forward, tearing his eyes from Elain’s face he scanned the room. His room, at the House of Wind. All the times he'd dreamed of her in here with him, what they would do, he'd never quite imagined it like this.

“What happened?” He still clutched at Elain’s hand but lowered it to rest against his thighs. His chest was exposed, naked and flushed with fever. The muscles in his wings protested as he moved to unfurl them slightly and he drew in a sharp breath through his teeth. Such a small motion, but it brought the catalogue of pain to the forefront of his mind through the haze.

The dark silk sheets pooled at his waist and rubbed against the stark whiteness of clean cotton bandages. He could feel where the membranes connecting the sinewy muscle and delicate bones of his wings pulled tighter in places over almost healed wounds. The room smelt of antiseptic; underneath his own scent was stale as though he hadn’t stayed there in a long time.

“I don’t know all of the details, you’ll have to speak to Rhys and Feyre.” Elain seemed to falter under the intensity of his gaze. “You arrived a few nights ago, winnowed to the River House poisoned and half-dead. Madja’s been working on you for days.”

"You've been here all this time?"

He leaned closer to her, his chest warming at the thought that perhaps he hadn't destroyed this, not like everything else he seemed to touch. Elain was frozen under his graze, eyes wide and lips parted. He drew closer, inhaling the scent of jasmine and honey, unable to resist her magnetism.

"Oh." She started and moved back in her chair, putting distance between him and his advances. "No, I arrived about half an hour ago. Y/N needed to get some rest." Her face seemed to implore him to do something and his thoughts were drawn to the failed kiss at solstice. Perhaps this was a gift from the mother Azriel reasoned. An opportunity to do everything over.

His eyes fixed on hers and an unfamiliar sensation bloomed in his chest. Azriel frowned as he felt a tug, it seemed to come from inside his ribcage. He brought his free hand, the one that was still clutching at Elain's, to rub at the skin over his heart. Confused he trailed his eyes down Elain's face to look at the skin his scarred fingers danced over.

He started as he saw it, the thread of pure gold. He reached in a tugged, feeling the answering wave of love and relief. If Azriel felt like he was drowning earlier it was nothing compared to the joy and elation that threatened to swallow him whole. His eyes burned as tears brimmed.

"Elain," he breathed. "I can't believe..." He trailed off, fixing her with a gaze of awe. If he wasn't still suffering from the lingering sluggishness perhaps he would have taken more stock of her confused stare. His hand stilled against his chest and he continued to stare at her. Whatever permission he was looking for, he thought he found in her gaze.

He reached up to caress her neck, following the delicate arch upwards to tangle his long fingers into her curls. His other hand dropped hers to cradle her cheek.

"Azriel." Elain tried to move back further in her chair to escape his wandering hands but found no further retreat against the back of the hardwood. Azriel followed her, shifting forward on the bed so only a few inches separated their faces. His breath mingled with hers.

Taking a deep breath he closed the distance between their lips, fire pooling in his gut with anticipation of finally getting to taste her like he had dreamed of. Claiming her full bottom lip between his own he revelled in the sweetness of her mouth. He pressed harder, her soft lips yielding against his own as he moved to deepen the kiss by tracing his tongue over the swell of her bottom lip. Elain softened in his arms and her fisted hands moved up to rest against his bare chest, not pulling him close but not pushing him away either.

He pulled back slightly, her doe-eyes meeting his firey gaze as he smiled contently at her. His left hand was tangled in the roots of her hair exposing the delicate skin of her ear which he moved to trace with his nose. His breath grazed the supple skin of her neck and his lips danced over the skin of her neck.

"Azriel, wait." Elain seemed to be roused by his actions, opening her hands to press her palms against the plain of his chest. He paused his movement against her throat, inhaling more of her scent deeply as he began to pull back.

"Azriel?"

The voice was unfamiliar, husky and choked, holding back emotion. Hurt bloomed through Azriel's chest and it startled him away from Elain. Anger rose within him at this stranger's interruption, at the hurt they'd caused Elain. Elain who was his mate. His lips pulled away from his teeth in a snarl, driven by instinct. His eyes moved towards the doorway. He felt naked, at a disadvantage without the shadows that had followed him for most of his life, always whispering, always alerting him to the movement of others.

His eyes fixed on the feminine figure in the doorway, taking a cursory gaze over the long golden hair that pooled to her shoulders. She wore night court attire, loose-fitting dark trousers, and a thin-strapped top that hugged the top of her form and flowed out over the obvious swell of her abdomen. The trousers cut off at the calves and a swirl of shadows danced around her feet. Azriel started. They were his shadows.

Elain jumped to her feet, the wooden chair pulled up beside the bed hit the carpeted floor with a thud as she made to move away from Azriel. His hands moved to grab her, to pull her behind him as he struggled to his feet, to protect her from this thief that had infiltrated his home.

"Y/N...This isn't...We weren't, it was..."Elain trailed off, seeming to be at a loss for how to continue. Azriel, now upright but still unsteady, staggered forward a few steps to place himself in between the stranger and Elain.

"Who are you?" He demanded. Elain obviously knew this woman. His mind spun, thoughts still heavy from the lingering fever as he tried to piece the information together. He gestured at the floor, a signal for his shadows to return. Some of them peeled away from winding up the calves of this stranger and slithered towards him across the floor. He took comfort in the familiar cool trail left as they crawled up his legs and chest, curling around his ear to report to him.

Safe, they whispered. Safe as you instructed. Azriel frowned, clearly they were mistaken. He fixed his eyes on the female again, drawn to her face. Chartreuse eyes, lined with tears and framed with long lashes and dark charcoal, stared back at him. They weren't fae he realised, they possessed the otherworldly quality he'd only seen when looking at Amren. There was a deep sense of other about this female that heightened his feelings of unease, coupled with the rogue shadows that flaunted his command and stayed at her feet like loyal guard dogs Azriel automatically grazed his thigh looking for the reassurance of the heavy weight of truth-teller. He found none.

Elain was speaking again, trying to move forward past him, and this time he successfully caught her arm, gently angling her away from the infiltrator to shield her with his body once more. The female's gaze moved from his face to fix where his hand remained on Elain's bicep, rucking up the delicate pale pink fabric as he gripped it with his scarred fingers. Her eyes widened more, Azriel studied as her pouted bottom lip began to tremble and the tears began to spill down her face. She took a step back from where she stood in the open doorway, retreating into the hallway. Azriel was torn between the instinct to follow, to press the advantage he'd unwittingly gained and staying to protect Elain.

Elain who was violently shrugged herself out of his grip, whirling to face him her face filled with anger he'd never seen on her delicate features before.

"What in the cauldron are you doing?" Elain's teeth were bared, her chestnut eyes blazed as she gestured at him widely as she continued. "Have you lost your mind?"

Azriel, surprised at her sudden anger, felt a deep sense of unease that he'd misjudged the situation somehow. His mind whirled, this wasn't how this was supposed to go. He was so used to having the upper hand, having all the information, that without it he was lost for words. Elain continued to back away from him and his eyes darted from her to the doorway which now stood empty, no signs of the mysterious female remained. Azriel's eyes fixed again on Elain's face as they stared at each other. He tugged at the cord in his chest, hoping to receive a response, some kind of assurance that he hadn't imagined it.

A deep sense of betrayal coursed back through the bond, anger mingled with hurt, the sensation was so strong that it almost brought Azriel to his knees. As quickly as the sensation came it stopped, the thread no longer sung and Azriel tried to follow it to the source. A source, he realised flinching, that didn't end with Elain but seemed to trail off and lead elsewhere.

The clap as a pair of powerful wings moved through the air was the only warning as seconds later Rhys landed on the balcony. The doors flew open on a wave of darkness as he sauntered into the room, violet eyes scanning the scene. A dark brow crooked as he took in Elain's rage and his brother half-naked, still flush with fever his shadows swirling in agitation.

"What happened? Azriel, should you be out of bed? Where's Madja?" He addressed his brother first, but his eyes drifted to Elain as he cocked his head for the answer to the second question. Elain took a deep breath and seemed to steady herself, before closing her eyes - an obvious invitation, she wanted to show Rhys. Azriel decided that she could show him whatever she wanted. The more pressing issue, the unknown female, would have to take priority over whatever punishment the High Lord wanted to concoct over Azriel's blatant disregard for his orders.

"Rhys, the stranger - you have to find her. I don't know how she got in. I woke without my shadows and they were with her, she took them."

Rhy's eyes moved between him and Elain as he seemed to piece together the course of events. He took a step forward, raising his hands in a gesture of surrender as Azriel bristled.

"Az." His voice was low, comforting, like he was trying to soothe a cornered predator. "Everything is okay, why don't you take a seat. Feyre's on her way, I think we need to talk."

A/N I'm hoping to start working on Part 2 asap but not sure how long it will take, I have so many ideas for this and committing to them is so hard

#azriel x reader #azriel x female!reader #azriel x oc #acotar #azriel shadowsinger #azriel acotar #azriel spymaster #elain archeron #elain x azriel

[romanitas]

peers out into the abyss, in the year 2024. dusts off spy au tag after nine (??????) years. anyone still here?? hello. i finally bring more of it. here it is on ao3 if tumblr is rude about it.

-

It all comes out rather mechanically and professionally, but Annabeth thinks that might make it all worse.  She knows there are aspects of her life she isn’t allowed to share, and she avoids details like who exactly she works for. It’s almost like she’s giving a summarizing report to a superior, not a boyfriend. But at the look on his face as she unweaves her life, she realizes she should probably stop thinking of Percy Jackson as her boyfriend. She is an infiltrator who steamrolled her way over his life, and he watches her with a deep undercurrent of hurt and hostility.  “I was just supposed to find out more about what was happening with Jason’s dad,” she says, her voice hollow and apologetic. “With the company. I didn’t expect…” Luke and gunshots. Dragging Percy through a dangerous situation when he was only meant to be a window into information. Piper and Jason to be solid, lovely friends. Percy Jackson to arguably be the best relationship she’s ever had. 

“I’m sorry.”

Percy’s quiet. He’d stayed quiet the whole time she spoke, graciously allowed her the uninterrupted time to explain herself, even when she knew she hadn’t deserved it. Annabeth feels like she’s standing on glass, but she’s not about to make the next move. He looks at her, then looks around the room, then back at her. Percy is an unexpectedly thoughtful guy, but this level of silence churns her gut.  She swears she hears the clock ticking. “So, do you like, not even care about penguins?”

She stares at him, befuddled. “What?”  Percy crosses his arms, angrily tapping his fingers against his bicep. “That’s what you talked to me about, when we met. You asked me about penguins.”  The fact that he remembered really shouldn’t surprise her. Her face falls; her reply is haphazard. “Everybody cares about penguins.” “Good, because if you lied about penguins on top of everything else, we might really have a problem.” His tone is bitingly sarcastic, a bullet of its own kind, and she flinches, however deserved.  “I’m sorry,” she mutters, again. “Annabeth, you lied. About everything. About - about - ” He trails off and throws his hands up in the air, before grabbing his water and chugging about half to cool himself down. She doesn’t really know how much it’ll actually cool him down, but it’s his go-to.  “I was going to tell you. That’s why I wanted to meet you - before Luke showed up -” Percy glowers. “Then what? You just - you thought everything would be fine?” She shakes her head. “I didn’t know what! I just knew I had to stop lying!” “Yeah? Took you how many months?” He pauses. “Months. You’ve been pretending to date me for months.” It’s like the reality of that finally, wholly sinks in for him, and his anger flashes with heartbreak heavy enough to punch her own. She can’t even reach out to him. The urge is there, but she restrains it, knowing full well she’s lost the privilege of touching him.  “It was my job, Percy,” she says after a moment, a weak attempt at some sort of defense she knows won’t hold up.  “You’re not even an architect.” He says it like that surprises him most of all, but she supposes she had been rather passionate about it. She knows as much about design as she does intelligence. “No,” she admits, then admits something else not many people do know.  “But I almost was.” He looks at her again, with regret, anger, and even a sort of empathy she doesn’t think she deserves. “I watched you shoot someone.”  Her demeanor betrays her, as she feels her eyes well up. “I had to.” “I know,” he says quietly, frowning. He closes his eyes and turns away from her, pressing his hands against the kitchen counter and leaning against it, like somehow it’s another realization that hammers in the reality of his girlfriend. 

Annabeth uses the brief respite to furiously wipe at her eyes. She doesn’t know how to salvage this. She wants to, badly. She’s simultaneously done one of the best and worst jobs she’s ever been assigned. Discovering Luke changed the game. Falling in love with Percy altered her life entirely. 

It takes a few minutes, but Percy finally turns back around to look at her. He watches her like she’s a stranger despite the knowing flicker to his eyes. He knows a lot about her, the side of her that isn’t a spy, the side of her she sometimes wishes could be present more often. But she is a spy too, and part of the job description includes sabotage. She’s always been very good at that. She’s just never sabotaged herself before. 

“I told you I loved you,” he says, and that hurts most of all, because it sounds like he doesn’t believe it. Like he can’t believe he’d gone and fallen for her, that he played right into her hands. 

Her expression shatters. “I know,” she says, the words catching. She has to tell him now, because she doesn’t know if she’ll get another chance. It’s a ruinous confession but there’s no escaping it. “And I - I fell in love with you too, Percy. I wanted to tell you so badly.”

He looks gobsmacked. “How? When it was all just - just bullshit to you?”

Annabeth shakes her head. “No. It wasn’t. It might have started that way, but -”

“How am I supposed to believe that, Annabeth? How can I possibly know anything you say to me is going to be the truth at this point? I just watched you - watched you take on some guy, shoot him in the leg, and work with a whole team of super spies, and now you’re here trying to tell me you love me?” He almost sounds desperate to believe it himself. Like he doesn’t want to not love her. He runs a hand through his hair, and Annabeth doesn’t know what to say to any of that. “Fuck. Jason and Piper, they trusted you too.” 

“I -”

His face darkens. “I introduced you to my mom.” He whirls on her, eyes hard. “Is my mother safe?” 

Annabeth nods immediately, and the look he gives her might be the worst one yet. “I had a team check on her apartment. And someone’s watching outside, just to be sure.” 

Relief washes over him, but anger still bubbles under the surface. Maybe she never should have gone to meet Sally. Maybe this wouldn’t be happening now, because somehow it feels like Sally Jackson is one of the pieces that made everything feel more real. But that’s wishful thinking, because there was no future with Percy Jackson in the cards under the circumstances in which she first came into his life to begin with. She foolishly allowed herself to feel like maybe there could be - like the laughing and the cuddling and the smiling and the happiness that swarmed inside her could be genuine, if she let go of so many other pieces. If she stopped being a liar. 

Luke always did bring out the worst in her, but she doesn’t even know if she can wholly blame him. Percy’s reaction to the truth was doomed to exist, no matter how she admitted herself to him. Perhaps they were doomed from the start too. She knows that. She just wishes she didn’t know that. 

“It explains some things,” Percy says slowly, like he doesn’t want to say it at all. “I guess I tried to ignore them. I really wanted this to work. I’ve never met anyone like you before.”

“You’re one of the best people I’ve ever met. I don’t want to lie to you anymore, Percy.” 

His face is crestfallen. “And I feel like I don’t even know who you are, Annabeth.”

He looks at her for a very, very long time. Annabeth doesn’t keep track. She’s run out of things to say, run out of excuses, run out of apologies, and Percy looks burnt out on his anger. He’s cradling it, afraid to let go, but tired of holding it. 

He deflates. “I can’t…” 

Annabeth swallows. Waiting. It feels like something of an end. 

“Get out. Just go, please.”

She does.

#percy jackson #annabeth chase #percabeth #heroes of olympus #i don't even know what the kids are using for tags these days #is it still only the first five???? #spy auing #tomato writes #god i havent posted in so long i have no idea if this looks ok formatting wise i guess let me know and i can fix it #the new post editor sucks

[calliesmemes]

A SANCTUARY FOR EVERY SENTIMENT

ASSORTED QUOTES PULLED FROM TUMBLR POSTS, PINTEREST POSTS, AND SONGS.

CHANGE gendered words and in-universe phrases as needed.

SPECIFY muse for multimuses.

“   Fill your mind with knowledge — it is the only kind of power that no one can take away from you. ”

“   I was born knowing you. ”

“   Even if you know what’s coming, you’re never prepared for how it feels. ”

“   Where have I seen you before? ”

“   You are half my soul. ”

“   I thought we hated each other. ”

“   All my life, I have been restless. ”

“   There's a darkness inside your mind. ”

“   I am going to be good this time. ”

“   I forced myself to know you. ”

“   The question you should be asking is not why I push you away, but why you stay. ”

“   To me, you’re sunshine in human form. ”

“   Some wounds never vanish. ”

“   I refuse to let the past find me here. ”

“   The grief is still heavy within me. ”

“   It's like you're so afraid of feeling that you're already dead. ”

“   I want to learn how to be soft again. ”

“   Pride isn’t sinful; it is confidence in yourself. ”

“   I don’t think that there is any truth. There are only points of view. ”

“   Everyone is a monster to someone. ”

“   Some days, I feel everything at once. Other days, I feel nothing at all. ”

“   Without violence, how do I understand my life as meaningful? ”

“   A friend today could be an enemy tomorrow. ”

“   It's always the wrong bits of the past that people want back. ”

“   I must kill memory once and for all. ”

“   A man with nothing left to lose is a very dangerous man. ”

“   I burn for what’s no longer mine. ”

“   Anyone who takes the time to be kind is beautiful. ”

“   It’s better to have a guarded heart than a bleeding one. ”

“   Everyone should love and be loved. ”

“   You’re the reason I know why storms are named after people. ”

“   What have we done to each other? ”

“   Perhaps you were like a candle: created to light up the darkness for an unfairly short amount of time. ”

“   I don’t know what’s wrong with me. ”

“   You were my home. I had no home but you. ”

“   How could you recognize me after all these years? ”

“   I’m always soft for you, that’s the problem. ”

“   Does my sweetness lie so deep within me you need to cut me to find it? ”

“   I want to trust my own joy like that. ”

“   When I bled, I thought I deserved it. ”

“   Do I have to forgive in order to love? ”

“   I will try to disappoint you better than anyone else ever has. ”

“   I’m hell-bent on loving you. ”

“   There are ways of dying that don’t end in funerals. ”

“   I have been fighting since I was very small. ”

“   Love doesn’t conquer everything. Whoever thinks it does is a fool. ”

“   We all have one foot in a fairytale, and the other in an abyss. ”

“   There’s nowhere to run. ”

“   Darkness, once gazed upon, can never be lost. ”

“   I like figuring you out. You are so human and puzzling. ”

“   If I am to be saved it is because your love redeems me. ”

“   Having a soft heart in a cruel world is courage, not weakness. ”

“   I have longed for people before, I have loved people before. Not like this. It was not this. ”

“   The difference between failure and love is where you draw the incision. ”

“   You never think that the last time is the last time. You think there will be more. You think that you will have forever, but you don’t. ”

“   We tend to talk too much because it’s rare that we are listened to. ”

“   I promise that I shall never give up. ”

“   They may not have loved you, but they did change you. They taught you. They grew you. ”

“   I feel like a part of my soul has loved you since the beginning of everything. ”

“   You didn't deserve what they did to you, how they treated you. It wasn't a lesson. It wasn't meant to happen, and it was never your fault. ”

“   I have always loved everything about you. Even what I don’t understand. ”

“   What’s done is done, but in the future, do better. ”

“   It's a lot easier to be angry at someone than it is to tell them that you’re hurt. ”

“   You don’t have that fire in your eyes anymore and you know it. ”

“   If you are so committed to being perfectly lawful that you cannot see the value of breaking a law to defend yourself or others, you're not good, you're obedient. ”

“   I have survived everything, but I fear that I cannot survive myself. ”

“   No one warns you about the amount of mourning in growth. ”

“   I was looked at, but I wasn’t seen. ”

“   Who's the real you? The person who did something awful, or the one who was horrified by the awful thing that you did? ”

“   I never would have expected you to become my deepest scar yet. ”

“   I fight. I resist. It doesn't even matter what I resist; there is simply something in me that tends to resist things as they are. ”

“   You are not weak just because your heart feels so heavy. ”

“   I want to be with you. It is as simple, and as complicated, as that. ”

“   Why must you push away those who care for you? ”

“   You were treated horribly. You came out on the other end. You were always you. ”

“   I know what it’s like to love what ruins you. ”

“   In three words, I can sum up everything I’ve learned about life: it goes on. ”

“   I am the centre of an atrocity. ”

“   You’re my family, and I love you. But you’re terrible. You’re all terrible. ”

“   Desire can be partner to violence. ”

“   It’s been a long time since I’ve been me. ”

“   There is so much love in friendship. People forget that. ”

“   Nothing you become will disappoint me. I have no desire to foresee you, only to discover you. ”

“   What is more unfair than having to choose between being a monster or being a hero? ”

“   Stop being so afraid of everything. ”

“   We must be our own before we can be another’s. ”

“   I’ve found that growing up means being honest. About what I want. What I need. What I feel. Who I am. ”

“   If you’ve been hated, you’ve also been loved. ”

“   Even when I detach, I care. You can be separate from a thing and still care about it. ”

“   Study me as much as you like; you will never know me. ”

“   See how our wants horrify us. ”

“   I feel so lonely, like childhood again. ”

“   Never in my entire childhood did I feel like a child. I felt like a person all along — the same person that I am today. ”

“   You see loving you as such a mortifying ordeal, you feel you owe to anyone who could find the will inside themselves to do it to reciprocate. ”

“   I wish they would only take me as I am. ”

“   We’ll pretend any ending is gentle. ”

“   If I am a sunflower, would you be my sun? ”

“   Being must be felt. It can’t be thought. ”

“   I’m not much, but I’m all I have. ”

“   I think that hell is something you carry around with you, not somewhere you go. ”

“   I want to be wanted more than anything else in the world. ”

“   Don't look away. Look straight at everything. Look it all in the eye, good and bad. ”

“   There must be a point where you’re allowed to be defined by something other than what he did to you. ”

“   There is no safe investment. To love at all is to be vulnerable. ”

“   I would rather break the world than lose you. ”

“   What goes too long unchanged destroys itself. ”

“   We are so accustomed to disguising ourselves to others that, in the end, we become disguised to ourselves. ”

“   Beauty is terror. Whatever they call beauty, we quiver before it. ”

“   Is one part of you allowed to forgive the other? ”

“   No one could ever replace you. You were there at the start; I’ll be there at the end. ”

“   It's a most distressing affliction to have a sentimental heart and a skeptical mind. ”

“   "You're so calm and quiet. But there are things inside you. I see them sometimes, hiding in your eyes. ”

“   Is it foolish to speak of little joys that occur in the middle of tragedy? ”

“   I imagine that one of the reasons people cling to their hates so stubbornly is because they sense, once hate is gone, that they will be forced to deal with pain. ”

“   Take life as it comes. Take what you can while you still have the desire to take. ”

“   If the moon smiled, she would resemble you. You leave the same impression of something beautiful, but annihilating. ”

“   We’ve been through so much together. I’ve seen you grow into someone you thought you’d never be. I’ve seen you endure challenges most will never see. ”

“   You don't tell a story only to yourself. There's always someone else. Even when there is no one. ”

“   I know that my life is meaningful because I love my friends, and I care about them, and I think I make them happy. ”

“   There is so much stubborn hope in the human heart. ”

“   To live is to suffer; to survive is to find meaning in the suffering. ”

“   It isn’t your life that’s a prison; it’s yourself. ”

“   You are allowed to be both a masterpiece and a work in progress, simultaneously. ”

“   You knew what you were doing and you knew that it would hurt me, but somehow, that didn’t stop you. ”

“   They would’ve kept lying if you didn’t find out. ”

“   You broke my heart in every way that a heart could be broken. ”

“   Just because I let you go doesn’t mean that I wanted to. ”

“   There is no intensity of love or feeling that does not involve the risk of crippling hurt. It is a duty to take this risk, to love and feel without defense or reserve. ”

“   I’m enjoying my hatred so much more than I ever enjoyed love. ”

“   Become the voice you’ve always needed to hear. ”

#askbox meme #askbox prompt #rp ask meme #ask box #roleplay sentence meme #sentence starters #roleplay prompts #roleplay sentence starters #* sentence meme #rpc help

[cnnmairoll]

hello Mai!!! i hope you're having a lovely day <3

i was wondering if i could humbly request a Blade x reader, where the reader is having a hard time due to challenging life circumstances and is incredibly stressed because of it, but is constantly putting on a brave face for Blade? i imagine he probably has an idea that something is amiss with the reader, but is too reserved to actually approach them about it until they finally break down when everything becomes too much </3

take your time with this!! i can't wait to see what you produce!! <3

Bearing the Burden

Pairing : Blade x Reader Genre : Hurt/Comfort a/n : Sure thing Eli! Glad to see you back on tumblr, hopefully this met your expectations since I don't really know how to write blade (；´∀｀) Hope you're doing okay btw !!

You never thought you'd find solace in the most unlikely place - the heart of Blade, the enigmatic and emotionally repressed warrior. Life had thrown its worst at you, and you were drowning in a sea of troubles. But in Blade's presence, you found a sanctuary from the storm, even though you couldn't put a name to what was brewing beneath the surface.

Your days were a blur of trials and tribulations. Every morning, you'd summon a smile that masked the turmoil within. You didn't want Blade to worry; he already carried a heavy burden.

One day, while you both trained together, Blade's intense gaze caught you off guard. He stopped mid-swing, his sword poised in the air, and said, "You seem different lately, more distant. Is everything alright?"

You hesitated, unable to meet his eyes. "I'm fine, Blade. Just a little tired, that's all."

He nodded, but the concern in his eyes lingered.

As days turned into weeks, the weight of your secrets grew heavier. You continued to endure, never letting your façade slip. Blade's subtle attempts to reach out went unnoticed or unacknowledged, and the walls around your heart thickened.

After another grueling training session, you found yourself patching up Blade's wounds. Your hands worked with skill and care, a testament to your dedication. But the silence weighed heavy on both of you.

Finally, Blade broke it. "You've been awfully quiet lately."

You couldn't avoid the question this time. "It's just…life has been throwing a lot at me, Blade. It's hard to keep up sometimes."

Blade turned his gaze toward you, his eyes probing but kind. "You don't have to bear it all alone, you know."

You looked up, meeting his eyes for the first time in weeks. "I didn't want to burden you with my problems. You've got enough on your plate."

A rare smile tugged at the corners of Blade's lips. "We all have our demons, even me. Sharing the load makes it lighter."

In the following days, Blade continued to offer his support, even if it was through small gestures. He'd make sure you had an extra meal, or he'd simply sit beside you during your moments of quiet contemplation.

One moonless night, you found yourself sitting alone by the river, tears streaming down your face, lost in the abyss of your thoughts. The world felt like a cruel place, and you didn't know how much longer you could bear it.

Then, Blade appeared, as silent as the night itself, and sat beside you. He didn't say a word, but his presence was a lifeline in the dark.

You couldn't hold back anymore. Your voice trembled as you confessed, "Blade, I'm not as strong as I pretend to be. Life has been tearing me apart, and I can't keep up this act."

His stern façade melted, revealing the depths of his concern. He might not have been skilled in comforting words, but he tried. "I'm not good at this, but I'll listen. You're not alone."

Tears fell freely now as you let your emotions flow. Blade didn't have all the answers, but he was there, offering the one thing you needed most - someone who cared, someone who tried.

In that moment, the unbreakable warrior became your refuge. The darkness lifted, just a fraction, as you realized you didn't have to face your demons alone.

He may not have been the best at comforting, but his presence was enough. Together, you faced the trials of life, knowing that you had each other to lean on.

And in the embrace of Blade's quiet strength, you found the comfort and courage to face each new day, no matter how challenging it might be.

#˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗ mai writes #honkai star rail #hsr #honkai star rail x reader #hsr x reader #blade #blade hsr #honkai star rail blade #blade x reader #hsr blade

[helvonasche]

i quit?

Update: Privated all my fics, deleted everything from AO3. If you want a copy of anything, let me know, but I'm gonna be real picky about who I give copies of anything to.

Now that I've got your attention: I'm quitting fanfic, not writing.

Not deleting my blog or AO3, either, and I'll still be here.

Most of my stories will be staying right where they currently are. I've deleted any posts that are too personal, and this includes a couple fics. If you notice something is missing or a link has broken, please let me know so I can fix it. I still have copies of everything.

So don't be a cuck and ruin this for everyone else. I want to leave this up because I've had my heart broken by writers deleting everything, but I also understand that impulse.

If not writing fics then what? Books.

The reason I started writing fics in the first place was to practice writing and hopefully get better. But at some point I do have to walk away. I'm still gonna be on Tumblr though. And if you wanna ask about book stuff.. do it?

Emotions and reasons below the cut, but that's it. I'm done posting fics, but still vaguely here.

Ugh. Feelings. Fine.

Basically, I've spent most of a year trying to finish the fics I had left and I can't do it. I've sat at the computer for hours, made and remade plans, tried everything I could find for writer's block, drove my friends fucking nuts, had panic attacks... fuck, dude, I've talked to a fucking therapist about it.. and I barely finished Of The Abyss.

I also just had a fucking shitty year. It nearly killed me, not being melodramatic or using hyperbole. I thought I'd lost everything on three separate occasions in only 8 months. It's changed my perspective on a lot of things, but mostly on how I spend my time.

As terrifying as it is to walk away from the vague comfort that is posting fics on Tumblr, the reason I write has also changed.

But the reason I struggled with quitting fics and have tried to keep posting is because I love this stupid place. Don't get me wrong, the bots and staff suck and some people too, but there's so much good here and I will miss that more than.. fuck. There really aren't words for this. Um.. I'm devastated and crying while writing this? It fucking sucks.

I've made friends here. Real ones. Not going to tag, but you know who you are. You have my address. You know my real name. You've probably spoken on the phone to me. And a very very few have met me. Even the people I don't talk to for any number of reasons (mostly because I can be a shitty friend), you're all wonderful and gave me hope that life isn't as awful as it seemed.

You saved me.

Thank you for giving a creep a chance.

And before anyone can ask or point out that I've been struggling with writing... I have been writing. Just not fanfic.

There's more I want to say, but I'm calling it. Going to stop crying and eat something, then write a book.

<3 hel.

#last update for a while #hopefully not too long

[darlenicy]

I got tagged by @rosie-love98 on this:

Tag 9 People you want to get to know better

Thank you and sorry, that it took me so long!

3 ships:

Okay, since I’m tagged on this tumblr account I’ll first go with WINX of course.

1. Driven (Darcy x Riven - Winx Club)

I’ll say it over and over again – they’re perfect. THE POTENTIAL: OMG: If Rainbow had be braver and didn’t focus SO much on Bloom, they could’ve added such an angsty storyline. They build the grounding but never made it to detail and that’s a shame. I may repeat myself, but Darcy was the first one to listen to Riven. To really listen and maybe even the first person after a long time to actually care for him. Of course, she is beautiful and she used that beauty to enchant him but what mattered in the end was that Riven finally found someone who was really interested in him. Someone who saw his ambition and talent. Someone who didn’t see the sparkly outside of perfect Sky and Brandon but who saw this man, who I bet went trough a lot to achieve the right to study at Red Fountain. Finally, someone interested in the one who trained hard to be where was and who wasn’t privileged like other people. Another thing I love about them is the trust and faith Riven had in Darcy who.. in the end destroyed that YES THANKS RAINBOW.  I mean, he never questioned her even though he knew that the Trix’ plans were evil. He did not care about that. Only for her. The betrayal must have been hard. But what about Darcy? How did she feel? Well, we never saw it but regarding her character she might be an overthinker who thinks everything through, who is afraid to show her true self. Darcy seems to be the one who is afraid of losing control and of being betrayed herself. So better destroy than get destroyed? I’m sure she opened up to Riven to some extend and got caught by her own fear of losing control and then overreacted. Maybe. Who know. But the thing is that their end came completely out of the nowhere and I wished the writers had focused a bit more on that instrad of making a cut so that another fairy had a love interest by the end of season 1. It also should have been more focus on their relationship in the following seasons. (I miss the longing stares omg. We could have so much angsty drama!) I think the end of the relationship was not easy for both of them. Darcy lost everything at the end of season 1 and I’m sure she questioned herself a lot after it. Like, what would have happened if etc. And Riven, even more broken than before. What did he think? It’s no secret, that most characters in this show need therapy but these two? Couple therapy maybe lol (now this was long, but that’s when I talk about ships haha)

2. Brella (Brandon and Stella - Winx Club)

I don’t really talk about the fairies here, but I love Brella. They are such a healthy and dynamic couple. Even as a kid I noticed how harmonic and devoted. I loved, that they got so much attention in the show and that they were the harmonic couple and not Sky and Bloom. They had the storyline in s1 I which Brandon disguised as Prince Sky and lied to her. He was afraid, that Stella would only like him as a prince. And yes, Stella might look superficial at first glance but in fact she is not. And I think she showed a lot of strength in forgiving Brandon who lied to her for a long time. She made no big deal of it even though she is a princess who could have easily married or dated a prince. But she chose Brandon. Then there is the Downland arc at the beginning of season 2 and it wouldn’t have worked with another couple. As I said, they are devoted to each other. Stella fkn jumped after him into that abyss without a second thought? Luckily they survived but then Amentia shows up and Stella almost dies because there is no sunlight in Downland. So to save her life, Brandon agrees to marry Amentia who then agrees to let Stella go. I could fangirl over this arc a lot but I won’t because it already gets too long here. Then s3 in which Stella thinks that it might be just her beauty which Brandon loves (which doesn’t make sense after what they went through) but I think the problem Stella has, is that she was always judged by her looks. She was raised to be a perfect princess and let’s face it, before she met Bloom and the Winx, she had no real friends. However back to the show, Brandon knew that Stella was transformed into that Monster but he did not care. Of course not. He was trying to help her no matter what, just to see her happy again. I won’t focus on the later seasons, because they might still have their cute moments there but after all there was too much beef going on between all the couples and I don’t consider these superficial seasons as canon so I’ll stop here. But Brella is chef’s kiss. The best Winx couple followed by Tecna and Timmy and no one can convince me otherwise.

3. Ethel Hallow x Nick Hobbes - Weirdsister College (Do they have a shipping name?)

Since it was rosie, who tagged me I think I have to take a ship which has nothing to do with Winx but which goes more in the direction of Harry Potter and The Worst Witch. And that is an easy one: Ethel Hallow x Nick Hobbes. OMG the potential, the POTENTIAL! Same as driven, they have so much unused potential even though they were on the best way to build an angsty couple with trust issues and all the drama my fangirl heart needs. I love how Nick noticed right away, that Ethel resembled him. She always played the nice and hardworking students but we all know that she was a devious bitch who used every opportunity to make Mildred look bad. And from her perspective, she did nothing wrong. It was always Mildred who stole the show by breaking the rules and being at school but was in the end the good girl who was appreciated. She always played by the rules (yeah not always but she tried her best) and was ambitious and just wanted to be the number one student, yet who interfered? Always Mildred. It’s no wonder she tried everything to get rid of her. Ethel just wanted a happy school life without interruptions. So she wasn’t innocent at all and Nick knew that. In the first episode of Weirdsister College, he immediately checked that he AND Ethel would not have a chance of passing the all-seeing-eye. He tricked Mildred so that she helped him and used that for him and Ethel to pass the ceremony. He’s the typical bad boy who took advantage of Mildred’s talent and gosh, I wished they hadn’t followed this weird storyline he has with Mildred. Because everything was already there with Ehtel: Both students who tried their best to become the top of the class, both power-driven and both unsure in the end. They have so much in common. And Ethel is, after all, the good girl who fell for the bad boy and she KNOWS that he’s doubtful. She does not trust him but is still fascinated by him. And I just love that trope, okay? Ehtel also gives me hardcore rl Darcy vibes and not, it’s not just because they have the same voice actress I Germany. They’re the dark edgy couple I live for. There could have been done so much if they gave us a second season…..It looked like they were giving up on the Mildred/Nick storyline by episode 9 which was again one big flirt of Ethel and Nick. (The potential!) This is why I hate the way they went on the last episode where it’s like “It’s only you who can save him, Mildred” bullshit. I’m doomed for loving couples the writers seem to hate. I could write an essay about them and I probably will on @yaviae somewhen.

Look at them! Ethel's side eye <3

Last song:

Seventeen by Marina

Last Movie:

Crimson Peak (And again I love the doomed couple: Lucille and Thomas, omg my loves)

Currently reading:

Schneewittchens dunkler Kuss (Snow White’s dark Kiss) by Stefanie Lasthaus

Currently watching:

World of Winx season 1

Currently drinking:

Just finished my tea (fennel <3)

Currently craving:

Inspiration! It’s Sunday and that means it’s my ff write day but I haven’t written anything. I’m so tired this weekend..

And I tag: @wtfastaroth @witch-cauany @aurora-of-the-fairies @cerisia76 @stellasolaris @alex-cold17 @no-white-dress @d-arcyky and of course @evdizav

#tagged #winx driven #winx brella #tww1998 ethel #ethel hallow #nick hobbes #weirdsister college #Spotify

[libbee]

Dangers of the Abyss

Intro = Does this image stir something in you? Some emotion, thought, memory? Perhaps fear. What we cannot express in words, we express in symbols and images. Images are not mere pixels but they are emotionally charged and they exist in our minds too. After all, our eyes are like cameras, mind is like camera film, memory is like storage space. The unconscious world can be accessed via your mental images, fantasies, visions, dreams, thoughts, emotions, memory. Some of the tools we use to explore the unconscious are writing, art, active imagination, tarot cards and alchemy. Some of the ways we know unconscious exists is synchronicities, projection and spiritual awakenings.

World of the unconscious = Few things are as tempting as exploring the 4th, 8th and 12th houses in astrology. Especially when you find yourself at the outskirts of healing, you are sucked into these areas of life and may lose touch with the material world. When the native is so engrossed in spiritual work or shadow work that they are obsessed with it and do it compulsively everyday, that is when you know that they have crossed the limits of what is healthy for them. Astrology, spirituality, occult, esoteric and mysticism (for eastern audience), new age tools (for western audience) can be very tempting in times of turbulence. This is why when life is out of control (eg, divorce or break up, disease or accident, money or career problems) we run to astrologers/psychics/healers, even if we were atheist or anti-theist otherwise. What is unseen, intangible and unknown resides in the unconscious and these 3 houses in astrology are the mining holes for the unconscious. They represent the collective unconscious, personal unconscious (or the subconcious mind) and bringing them to the light of the day is called awareness/enlightenment.

3. Curious case of Friedrich Nietzsche = Though history does not report why Nietzsche went insane, many report (including Carl Jung) that Nietzsche went so far into self exploration that he could not come back to the material life. That he went so deep into the unconscious that he could not pull himself out of it and completely submerged with the unconscious. Do you see how dangerous it is to do shadow work? Though whether Nietzsche could be reborn or not is not something we can decide, for it was his life path and his destiny. Though he lost himself in the darkness, at least he wrote some great books, at least he excavated some pearls from the ocean for the rest of us. It is to be noted that Nietzsche had ketu/south node in the 7th house which can signify his unsuccessful love life, solitude/loneliness and also had sun in the 12th house.

"...Nietzsche would be just about as grateful to his rescuers as somebody who has jumped into the water to drown himself and has been pulled out by some fool of a coastguard. I have seen Nietzsche in states in which he seemed – horrible to say – as though he were only pretending to be mad, as though he were glad to have ended this way!” Peter Gast, The Madness of Nietzsche by Erich Podach

4. We the regulars = But we the regular, the common, the laymen people who cannot afford to be lost in the unconscious world, who have school/college/job, family/relations/marriage, money/food/shelter to take care - we need a foundation to navigate the material life alongside the spiritual life. Unless you are an ascetic sitting in a cave, browsing tumblr in your lunch break before the 10 hour meditation session, we know that you have a full life with many dimensions to take care of. And it is for those of us to learn to balance the material and spiritual life

5. Doing it alone = Whether a therapist or a family member or a friend or a loved one, anyone who can keep you grounded in the real world, bring you back to the daily life, keep you rational when you are losing touch with reality and guide you when you are losing track can be helpful. Though shadow work is a solitary process, we still need somebody else to give us objective judgment, tell whether we are biased in our judgment and guide us with their own wisdom and experience. This is why 4th/8th houses also deal with generations, ancestors, inheritance, history because it is only by standing upon the shoulder of the giants that you can make progress in your life. We may think we know it all intuitively/alone, but the more we learn the more we discover how little we know. "Learn from the mistakes of others, you can't live long enough to make them all yourself." - Chanakya, Indian polymath

6. Psychic content is reality = I am very fond of this interview of Carl Jung. What Jung meant to say here is that the events of psyche are as real as the material life. For instance, if you celebrate your birthday on a certain date with your friends, you call it reality. But if you think about celebrating your birthday with your friends, you call it daydream and not reality. This is where Jung says that even the world in your mind is as real and valid as the world outside. So whether you celebrate your birthday in physical world or mental world, both are equally valid and real. So, when the mental world is as encompassing, satisfying and real as the physical world, it is very easy and tempting to spend your whole life in the mind. In the modern world, the addiction to social media, internet, video games and T.V. is similar to living in your mind (unless you are using technology to do your job and make money).

7. Being clueless and inexperienced = The baby witches often ask minute questions on spells, tools and energy. Do you work in coven or are you a solitary witch? Are you a family astrologer or the first in your family? Do you visit a psychologist or do your own therapy in your journal? If the answer to all these questions is the latter of the two, then you may have begun from a place where you were clueless, inexperienced and confused. Perhaps you learned from trial and error, perhaps you did hours of research, perhaps you felt like you were not meant for it, but what we do know is that being clueless and inexperienced in the world of the unconscious can have serious drawbacks and dangers. The most dangerous is the mental and emotional impact of practices that do not make your life better rather pull you in a rut.

8. Solutions = Solutions are very simple, so simple that we may dismiss it, but learning to keep a balance between material life (school/college/self care/job/ family/responsibilities) and the spiritual life (shadow work/alchemy/exploring the unconscious/self actualization) is crucial. Next solution is to be able to identify the psychic contents with mindfulness and living in the present moment - this comes with practice, perhaps months or years of practice before one can calm down the restlessness to stay mindful. Next solution is to really understand your mental process. Mind is a beautiful thing, do not deal with it lightly. Just like you would arrange, clean, organize, beautify your physical space, you also have to arrange, organize and keep your mental space neat and clean. Next solution is to what I mentioned earlier in a post to keep marking mistakes and correct decisions for yourself, to use reasoning, logic, common sense, decision making, routine (rather than be emotional thinker, magical thinker, impulsive and reckless). In short, think BEFORE you act and not the vice versa. The exploration of the unconscious is systematic and organized, it is not careless and impulsive.

9. Conclusion = So, if you are a first generation astrologer or witch or healer or trauma cycle breaker, be very vigilant of your limits and structure. I have written about psychosis before which can induce when the native is not mentally prepared for the psychological adventure of healing and actualization. Psychoanalysis, spiritual practices and occult practices are parallels to each other and if you feel like you are called into any of these interests, please make sure you have your physical life in order, lest you want to reach rock bottom again and again. I am speaking from experience that being first time clueless healer, psychoanalysis made my life even more complicated instead of magically improving it. I thought I had hit rock bottom in physical life but I did not know yet that even rock bottom has a basement that I hit with clueless psychoanalysis and spiritual practices. It was like this diagram for me:

It felt like I was making great progress with shadow work and psychoanalysis, it felt like I hit the jackpot and all my problems would be explained/solved but it took me a lot of time to realize that it takes immense responsibility to tackle the world of the unconscious and it is not mere for fun and games, rather it can really disturb your life and make you dysfunctional in the material world.

#astro tumblr #dark astrology #astrology blog #astro notes #astrology #astro community #astro observations #astroblr #astrology community #astrology notes #astrology observations #astronotes #Youtube

[ravenelyx]

I Love You In Every Timeline - masterlist

READ HERE - AO3

Pairing : Sebastian Sallow x Fem!Reader

Themes : angst, temporarily unrequited love, pining, some form of transference¹, developing relationship, slow burn, explicit (eventually)

Summary: "He turned around, and the world seemed to stop around him. She had followed him: into another timeline, into another universe.". In which Sebastian, in his search for a cure in the Dark Arts, finds himself 100 years into the future and meets his most trusted companion's descendant (who looks far too similar to the girl he was once secretly in love with).

Full masterlist

Extract from chapter 4:

Another part of him dismissed his earlier thoughts of any intimacy and imagined you asking him to follow you on some sort of cloak-and-dagger adventure; imagined teaching you curses and spells, telling you his every thought and having you sharing yours in return, showing you every side of magic he was willing to explore still.

He wanted to pretend that you would follow him into the deep, dark abyss of immorality and sin, that you would take the Cruciatus Curse for him if he had asked, that you would forgive him if he had told you about Solomon, that you would stand by his side even after his soul had been warped and infected and lost, and that you would do your best to put it back together and keep it with you, safe in your arms.

Of course, that's not what happened

Notes:

1 - "Transference (German: Übertragung) is a phenomenon within psychoterapy in which repetitions of old feelings, old attitudes, old desires, and/or old fantasies that someone displaces, are subconsciously projected onto a here-and-now person."

You can still find up until Chapter 4 (albeit unedited) starting from here on tumblr, but it will only be uploaded on AO3 and Wattpad from then on.

#sebastian sallow #hogwarts legacy #sebastian sallow fanfiction #harry potter #harry potter fandom #sebastian sallow x reader #sebastian sallow x you #sebastian sallow x mc #wizarding world #sebastian sallow fic #hogwarts legacy sebastian #hogwarts school of witchcraft and wizardry #harry potter legacy #harry potter fanfiction #ron weasley #hermione granger #ginny weasley #fred weasley #george weasley #hogwarts legacy fanfic #sebastian sallow fluff #hlhp #hphl #hogwarts legacy mc #sebastian x mc

[kitcattales]

Something There - Akaza x Fem! Reader Chapter 1: Something There

Author's note: So, I'm trying this for the first time, please bear with me for any mistakes, but PLEASE read the warnings and tags before reading as this fic d o e s touch on very mature and sensitive topics in mental health ;w; My purpose in writing this series is to tell a story as well as to give readers a relatable, realistic experience with bad mental health struggles along with a loving message in regards to that, so please be sure you're doing alright enough to proceed ;w; <3 I've never shared any of my fanfics on Tumblr before nor am I super apt at using this platform, so I'm not sure how this will turn out, but I thought maybe I should give it a try ;u; I hope you guys like the first chapter to my Akaza fic! ;w; <3

If you'd like to continue onto the next chapters available so far, you can find the rest of my fic cross-posted on AO3, FFN, Wattpad and Quotev! Links are down below! c: <3

Synopsis:

Loneliness and guilt can lead people down a painful spiral of darkness which is often times difficult to crawl out of. It can be suffocating to the point of which your thoughts are no longer your own. At least, they're not what you would recall them to be now that the person you once were is gone. Mourning and grievances can escalate and deepen the slope of self-destruction and self-loathing, pushing you further into an abyss of quicksand your fingers can't claw into no matter how hard you try to pull yourself out to make things right.

No matter what _______ did to reconcile for her mistakes, nothing ever made the emptiness and hurt within her go away. Life lost its meaning, and with it, the Slayer's will to continue had faded as well.

She had become so desperate, she convinced herself a demon of the twelve Kizuki was her only solution to make the torment end; to pull her from the quicksand and let her slip in a senseless dream.

To most, it would have been crazy, but to her? It was the last chance she had to make things right and to pay for the sins she could never undo.

Funny how a demon was the answer to prayers like that.

Rating: M for Mature.

Warnings:

THE FOLLOWING FIC CONTAINS THOROUGH DIALOGUE ABOUT SUICIDAL THOUGHTS AND TENDENCIES ALONG WITH DIALOGUE OF SELF-LOATHING. IF YOU'RE IN A DARK OR VULNERABLE PLACE RIGHT NOW, PLEASE DON'T CONTINUE PASSED THIS POINT.

This fic also contains depictions of violence and gore. Don't know to what extent I should label it, so I'll just say that it's definitely in there (not that it would really stand out in a series like Demon Slayer).

The fic also goes into details about the Mugen Train arc so, spoilers ahead. It also slightly hints to stuff about Akaza's background - not in tons of detail, but there's hints.

CHAPTER TWO

Word count: 9,671

Cross-posts: AO3, FFN, Wattpad and Quotev (I am most active on AO3! <3)

Chapter 1: Something There

There was a light breeze this evening, blowing with the lovely scent of not-so-distant blooming wild flowers. The sky was cloudless, unobstructed and ornamented with an endless array of dazzling stars which freely blinked with detached innocence amongst their vast, endless world of obsidian depths. The moon – large and full – rested right in the middle of the spectacle, shinning its soft, ethereal light onto the earth’s plane of existence like a blanketed gift from Heaven. Underneath its brilliant light was an open plain of grass, long and feather-like with the blades which fluttered and danced hand-in-hand with the wind whom swept them from their rooted dance floor. All the while, from a distance, an audience of ancient cedar watched, their leaves restlessly enthused to join and encourage the ballet from where they stood so admiringly.

In all respects, the setting was awe-inspiring. A place most people would envision when thinking of a landscape bathed in peace and serenity. A place one could run away to so as to fall amongst the swaying blades, to roll along with them in their reality and giggle out joyous fantasies with the nearby cedar in a private, heavenly world of their own. A place where one could lay back, arms splayed, eyes to the sky, dreaming of an exciting, blissful (maybe even euphoric) future.

It should be a place drizzled in otherworldly wonder.

It should be a place of refuge.

A place people can go to by choice for a night of delight and mindful wondering – but there on the ground, viewing it all from a perspective so polar opposite from the view from Heaven, the scene came off in a completely different light.

The grass was coarsely grabby, edged with sticky little weeds which clung at her clothing as she dragged her feet across the hardened soil. Her body screamed cries of overexertion, protesting wildly and cacophonously against its owner, begging for a rest like the one the stars and moon dreamed of, but she knew she was beyond that point of grace.

The soft, white glow from the seemingly engorged moon only served to illuminate her path. It was leading her towards a destination every sane thought in her head told her to run away from, but the stronger voice in her edged her to strive for even beyond the painful exhaustion she felt seeping into her very bones.   

The stars may as well not even be there. To her, they certainly weren’t. She never bothered acknowledging them when she stepped onto the plain. She knew they were there, by logic, but to see and actively acknowledge them would be a cruel reminder of the beauty of life that was so fleeting.

The sweeping wind reminded her of that sense of inescapable mourning for something that was lost long ago, the way it pushed through the spaces between her fingers even as she let them hang loosely by her sides, mocking her weakness and fragility. It reminded her of the things and moments she allowed to slip through those very gaps time and time again before this very moment in time within that desolate field.

The audience of cedar, much closer now than they had been before, swayed in precarious gestures, almost as if whispering amongst themselves before – suddenly – waving at her with urgency as a warning not to enter the land they shielded her from.

She, however, paid no mind to the warnings they attempted to heed her. Her eyes, though vacant and void of emotion, simply stared forward beyond the gaps in between their thick, barky bodies into the inky black deep within the land of densely packed cedar. The only time she listened to her aching body to stop for a moment was when she reached the edge of the forest.

Her right hand weakly pressed against the bark of the nearest tree, rough against her palm. Her body greedily leeched off of the support the chivalrous cedar provided by collapsing against it a mere second or two afterwards. She whimpered pathetically as her battered side collided with the rough bark, her breaths coming out heavier for a moment while she tried with the miniscule amount of willpower left in her to compose herself.

Pathetic, pathetic, pathetic.

Her teeth gritted painfully, her eyes shut tight, but she focused her breathing. She focused effectively, just as she had been taught and trained to, successfully alleviating some of the pain which screamed from deep within her core. When the world around her began to make more sense to her sightless senses beyond that of the pounding in her ears is when she allowed herself to gaze into the darkness once more.

Likewise, it was then that she had picked up on the pungent scent of blood creeping into her reality like invisible tendrils of poisonous vines come to destroy the idea of anything like a flower in a world like hers.

Flowers.

HA!

What a silly idea for something like that to exist in a moment like this.

Still, she was undeterred by the iron-noted scent. She had grown eerily accustomed to it over the course of time she had dedicated within her uniform. It was simply a sign of a cruel world; a reminder of how temporary everything was.

She was well aware the scent typically spelled out ‘danger’ and a definite threat within the near vicinity, and for a person like her who was so worn and tattered, it urged for her to turn back to run almost in an audible whisper.

Was it the cedar talking in the blood’s behalf? The chitter-chatter of their leaves fluttering deterrently, begging for her to reconsider?

Blatantly, she ignored.

She pushed herself off of the tree she leaned against and forced her body to continue forward. Quickly, as she slipped beneath the thick canopy of the forest, the moon and stars ceased to exist. Though she hadn’t actively acknowledged them when passing through the field, their absence was prevalently notable as soon as the branches of cedar roofed her within their mysterious home. The world around her grew as dark as the one thriving in her head, teeming with a life she was unaware of and instinctually afraid of.

Pathetic, pathetic, pathetic.

The fear was quickly swallowed up by the inky sensation of disassociation. It had only served to exist a few moments in the back of her head, wondering aloud what she might run into on the way to the finish line she had drawn for herself, but it just as quickly fell to a numbing silence. Her head filled with fog and quiet, aiding in the subsiding of the gooseflesh which had momentarily sprouted along the length of her arms.

There was nothing to be afraid of. She had planned this shortly after she found out about what dwelled in this area. For a long time, she had been dreaming of a way out of the nightmare that is her daily life she could not escape from, and just like that, as destined by fate, the solution had fallen onto her lap through speculating whispers and murmurs from people in the nearby village about the things which sometimes dwelled in the cedar forest. It had been a hunch, a possibility with an equal possibility of it being something else entirely which the villagers spoke of, but something inside of the young woman told her this was definitely what she had been hoping for since everything had first started going downhill.

As she dragged her feet and trudged deeper and deeper into the abyssal world she walked through like a stranger in a town she didn’t belong in, she picked up on the sounds of creatures moving in the dark. Creatures she didn’t come here to see today. She could sense their presences in her flesh and bone, humming and vibrating with their being to force her awareness on them. She, however, chose to force her awareness of them into silence.

No, she didn’t come here for just any demon.

She came here tonight for a very specific one.

One she knew was stronger than any other she had ever faced or heard of thus far.

The one that would be the perfect and quick solution to her problem.

I could just stop walking, she thought as she dragged the top of her foot along the dirt beneath her to force it in front of her for another agonized step forward. It hurts to walk, anyway. I could just stop here, let any of the ones following me right now do away with me. End the nightmares already…She shook her head, forcing her steps to gain a bit of haste, though she made no move for her Nichirin sword sheathed at her side – her only true form of defense in the midst of an infestation like the one she ventured into. No. The weaker ones are cheekier than all hell. They like to play with their prey and food. They’ll make it worse for me than it needs to be. No, I’ll get to him and have him do it fast. I’m fairly certain he does it for sport, and with a demon as ridiculously strong as him, I probably wouldn’t even feel it when it happens. If the worst happens and the rumors are wrong…well…the others still remain an inescapable option at this point. One way or another, I’ll be able to pay for my weaknesses. I’ll make it up to them all. The nightmares will end and I’ll slip away like I should’ve so long ago.

The thought caused her brow to furrow as the sorrowful emotion she seemed tied to the hip with washed over her. It felt suffocating, like she had been forced down a waterfall and the harsh waves just kept battering onto her over and over, leaving her sore in every possible way. Before everything got as bad as it had, when everything was still so fresh and explicit in her mind, the feeling would’ve caused tears to surface in her eyes. She would’ve collapsed and bawled, a soul-raking kind of cry that shook her to her very spirit, rattling the human frame caged within her skin. A mournful sound and act of hopelessness to help her cope and allow her body to wash out the pain that was so endless and vast.

Not this time, though.

She hadn’t cried like that in a very long time.

The last time she had shed those kinds of heartbreaking tears was when her best friends had died on the field, a small group sent out to protect the very village she trekked from right now. There were demons terrorizing the villagers for weeks, people going missing in the forest leaving nothing behind but their screams in the night. Her squad arrived, eager and confident in their abilities to aid the people they had been sent to save…Yet, in the end, the ones who needed saving were them.

She could remember it as though it had happened just yesterday. The blood of her friends slowly dripping from her hands as she had desperately tried to stem their bleeding when the demon had coward off because of the rising sun. She could remember how loud she had cried for help to the point that her throat felt bloody and raw, how desperately she had begged with her friends not to die on her. Not to leave her. Not to let her weak and feeble attempt at protecting them and the villagers be the reason they were going.

Not to let them jumping in to save her be the reason they died in her arms.

Unfortunately, it was a request neither of them could fulfill for her.

By the time help arrived, they were gone. Nothing left but corpses in her arms staring blankly towards dawn.

She cried harder than she ever had that day. The only people she had ever considered family – the only people she had close to her left in a world so bleak – had been ripped away from her when they came to her aid; all because she couldn’t defend herself.

All because she allowed herself to believe she had the upper hand.

All because she allowed herself to get cocky.

All because she left her blindside wide open.

PATHETIC, PATHETIC, PATHETIC! You don’t deserve to be alive! It should’ve been YOU who died that day, not THEM!

Her head lulled from side to side as the harsh thought rang in her mind, reminding her time and time again that she wasn’t worthy of their sacrifice; that they had bestowed a value on her insignificant life she had no clue what she did to earn.

“I know…” She sucked in a harsh breath, her eyes fluttering for a moment from the pain radiating in her with each step she took. The recent fight to defend the village from demons had left her body a tattered and bruised mess beneath her uniform, barely able to do anything without nearly collapsing every few minutes. It had been going nonstop for many nights now, these harsh, numerous battles. Battles she felt tied to finish in memory of the ones she lost during the original mission. A sort of reconciliation she was aware would never amount to wash away the sins she’s committed towards the ones who loved her most, but the beating her body received every night…it felt well-earned.

“I know…” She repeated, her lip quivering as the shaken breath left her. “I-I know I don’t…”

The forest around her began to giggle and chuckle through the dark. Cheeky, mischievous whispers floated from cedar to cedar as the sensation of a million pairs of eyes staring her back down crept through her veins. By instinct, her senses had heightened again, becoming more and more aware of the things following her and gossiping about her, laughing about how easy it would be to rush in and end her right there, but deciding to play around with their food to prolong the inevitable through a torturous mind game.

I’m not scared to die. I haven’t been for a long time. I’m not afraid. None of this scares me. They can’t do anything to me I haven’t felt already in a million different ways. I. Am not. Afraid.

The laughter in the woods grew louder, almost as though they had peeked into her mind and read her thoughts. Mocking her. Gossiping about the reality she tried to hide behind her lies.

She tried her best to ignore the gossip. Her nails dug into bark as her hands pressed and pushed her feebly from tree to tree, each one she passed by close enough aiding on her course of self-destruction despite their previous warnings. The grass and weeds around her feet clung to her clothing just as they had done on the open plain, tugging at her harder and with more persistence the deeper into the void she propelled herself. Her dragging feet pulled away from them each and every time, deadest on reaching the end of what the woods attempted to protect her from.

Nothing could deter her from her quest, and the only thing which caused her pause and hesitation in her trek so deep within the darkness was the sound of a collapsing cedar a short distance away.

The timber was dissonant and jarringly crackling like booming thunder. When the massive cedar collided with the ground, the entire forest appeared to shake and tremble in protest of its fallen extremity. The living cedars chittered and waved in anxious, shrill cries before the world around her plummeted into deafening silence. Even the laughter and gossip had ceased from the demons she knew remained close by. She was sure they had been toying with her, but from the sound of the collapsing cedar, it appeared she had found what she sought, and the affirmation of his existence deep within the desolate forest forced them into fearfully respectful silence.

She stared ahead, leaning against a tree once more, watching intently through her vacant gaze for further movement. Her panted breath was all she could hear for a few moments, and her heart had plummeted into the abyss of her stomach when a thought crossed her mind.

Maybe it was just a random tree that was about to fall. Maybe nothing really caused it to fall other than an old injury to its bark. Maybe the rumors are just that: rumors. Maybe I’m stuck with my terrible plan B after all.

The thunderous sound of yet another falling cedar, however, told her she was wrong. The quick succession didn’t sound natural, nor did the way the woods reverberated with the collapse. There was something else there, something else that caused a third tree to quickly fall right afterwards as well.

Her heart jumped to her throat with anxious hope that the rumors were true after all. The silence around her from the demons whom followed her up to this point also inclined her to believe it to be so.

It has to be him. She pushed herself off of the tree she rested against, quickening her steps towards the trembling trees and earth-shattering commotion ahead. Please let it be him. Please don’t be another lesser demon. Please don’t play with my emotions like this. Not now. Not again.

Her breaths puffed out faster now, shaken with the effort from her quaking, hobbling form. She could barely keep going. If this wasn’t him, whoever it was would have to do away with her, because her body couldn’t carry her much further. No one would miss me, anyway. The village would be better off with a different Slayer there to defend them. I’m useless to them. I’ve been able to keep the demons at bay thus far, but I can’t anymore. They’ll be fine until they send someone else tomorrow. I would be a hindrance if I had stayed behind. At least with me being here, the demons can entertain themselves watching me with him instead – or coming after me themselves if it really isn’t him. GOD, please let it be him.

Unsettled by her desperate thoughts, she shook her head as firmly as she could before forcing herself to focus once more so she may sense the beings in her surroundings. As soon as she did, the vibrations in her bones shook her like an earthquake, nearly toppling the already beaten woman onto the forest floor like the falling cedar ahead. She reached out, clawing her nails deeply into a nearby tree one more time, her arms hugging tightly around it as her knees buckled beneath her. She whimpered with struggle, trying with all her might to stay on her feet against the mighty cedar, but through it all, her eyes had stayed fixated on the area the fallen trees were plummeting from. The strength of the demon ahead was…terrifying. She knew he had to be, considering he was of the higher ranks of Muzan’s twelve Kizuki, but that it felt like this without any kind of confrontation? For a second, it caused the thought of reconsideration to cross the woman’s mind as freezing fear raced through her being to solidify her in place. Her eyes were widened despite their vacant state and her teeth clattered and chattered together with her trembling.

Remember what’s waiting for you outside of this forest even if you do somehow manage to make it out alive. The life you chose to leave behind. None of it is worth it anymore. You’re pitiful to feel this damn afraid of something you’ve plotted so thoroughly, but it’s a natural response. I can’t think of many people who wouldn’t shake at the sense of this ridiculous amount of demonic presence…

She took a deep, calming breath at the thought, the sound of the falling cedar becoming background noise to her. Nodding slowly to herself, she pushed forward one last time and began to drag her feet towards the man she now had no doubt was there. No lesser demon would even come close to the essence she picked up on, so at least that thought was calming in its own regard.

Keep walking. Keep going. You’re almost there. You won’t feel this pain or fear for much longer.

She pushed herself through a few bushes now, her shoulder bumping against another cedar as a small clearing gradually came into her line of vision through the foliage ahead of her.

Within the clearing was the finish line.

The demon she had come here to see.

The end of her quest.

The answer to her prayers and the consequence of her sins.

Akaza.

The name rang in her mind from memory at the sight of his muscular frame and head of short, disheveled salmon-toned hair. His back was facing her, his concentration mainly set on the cedars before him which his fists continuously connected with, causing for them to fall one after the other. Sometimes, he’d mix things up with kicks as well, his form rock solid and unmovable with each strike he landed. It appeared as though he were training a form of martial art which, in retrospect, came off rather odd to her if she really thought about it. A demon training his skills as though he were human when the amount of strength he actually harbored was beyond humanity in all definitions of the word? Maybe it was just something he enjoyed to do, beating the life out of tree after tree. Whatever it was, it didn’t really matter. What mattered is that he was really there. The rumors were true and the finish line was now within reach.

She had heard of his battle and unfortunate victory against the Flame Hashira, Kyojuro Rengoku, through her Kasugai Crow. It had been widespread news when it happened. It spread like wildfire from Slayer to Slayer, the heartbreaking loss of a man so kind and great like Rengoku leaving a gaping hole many knew not how to fill.

In all regards, she should hate him. This demon. This disgrace and mistake on the face of the planet which only lived to cause pain and suffering to humanity. She should despise him with every fiber in her being – and when the news first reached her, she did. She wanted nothing more than to gain news of his defeat and demise while she mourned the death of the Hashira amongst fellow Slayers at the time.

Right now, however?

He was an antidote to her.

A sweet remedy she was desperate to taste.

A consequence she knew she fully deserved – and the desperation she felt for him to give it to her already only made her feel even less worthy of living on than she already did.

How could she want this so badly?

How could she be this desperate?

How could she be so disrespectful to the memory of Rengoku and the entire Demon Slayer Corps as to seek this demon out for the sole purpose of taking away the breath from her lungs?

Something anyone who knew him would quickly give up in return for Rengoku’s life.

If I could, I would trade places with him in a heartbeat. I wouldn’t even have to think about it. I know I’m unworthy and completely incomparable to him, but if it were possible, I would give my life in exchange for his. He deserved to live. He deserved a happy life. He deserved a lovely future. He deserved every good thing in the universe because of how much of an amazing man he truly was. So, why is it fair that an extraordinary person like Rengoku had to die, but a pathetic excuse for human life like me is allowed to keep going? It isn’t fair. God…please let me trade…Take me instead. Give us back Rengoku, let me rewind time, put me on the Infinity Train and let me take his place against Akaza. Let me give the world that kindness before I go…

Alas, even if it were possible to do as such, she knew Rengoku would’ve never allowed it. He would have saved her just like he had everyone else on that train.

Just like he had given his life to accomplish for those who couldn’t fight for themselves.

I’m sure if he were alive, he’d probably scold me for the thoughts I’m having. He’d probably start giving me one of his zealous pep talks, too, about not giving up so I can keep moving forward in the memory of them…He always had such a warm energy to him…So much hope, courage and perseverance in a world so bleak and scary. I wish I could’ve been like you. I’d like to believe I might be lucky enough to meet you in the afterlife…but…I don’t feel like I deserve to go where you’ve gone.

Her head lowered in shame, the quivering of her lip returning with vengeance. It was then she noticed just how many fallen trees were scattered in this clearing Akaza was training in. So much so, it made her believe the small clearing only existed because of him now, quickly growing in size with each massive cedar he brought to its knees. From up close, the shattering wood caused her ears to ache, the actual quaking fall forcing a flinch from her out of reflex.

Looking up from the litter of fallen trees, she watched as the demon stood up straight and rolled his shoulders after the last cedar he had beaten into submission. He turned his head to one side with a satisfying crrrrrack before turning to the other with the same result.

In his momentary pause, she found the will in herself to force her feet to walk forward again. She found it a bit difficult to maneuver around the fallen trees, her aching body screeching at her now with painful protest each time she jumped herself over one of them. There was no way at this point that the demon of the Upper Moons hadn’t become aware of her presence. She was sure he knew she was there long before she even showed up at this clearing he was making, but if he hadn’t, the raucous of her fumbling over logs and crunching leaves and twigs beneath her feet had certainly alerted him of her approaching presence.

She could tell, because he made no move to continue his training against the cedar no matter how much closer she got to him.

No, he didn’t move until she was right behind him, having somehow managed the hurdle of the final cedar at their feet.

If she hadn’t been before, she was definitely passed the point of no return now.

From up close, she could take in his details a lot better. Markings ran all across his skin, many of which disappeared under the cover of his baggy clothing. From behind, the ones which caught her attention most were the rings encircling his throat, visible still from the back of his neck. That, and the stained ends of his fingers and bare feet, his nails all tinted in a deep red color. All of it contrasted heavily with his pale skin tone and softly colored locks of hair which swayed just the smallest bit with the light breeze sweeping through the woods, offset even further by the reddened pearls ensnared around his ankles.

It was an odd thought, but the combination of his natural colors was a pleasant one. It was a strange sentence which floated in her mind for several moments because of how bizarre it actually was.

She supposed if she would give herself up to a demon, she would rather he didn’t look as terrifying as they come.

At the very least, there was something soothing about the softness in his palette. It almost felt like he belonged in this landscape, really, jumping out of the scenery like a painting in a black and white book.

“This is a surprise,” His rough, masculine voice broke through the silence, causing for the woman’s eyes to shift sharply to the back of the demon’s head. “You Slayers sure are interesting. Coming after me in my own domain like this? Can’t say you’re very good at sneaking up on the enemy, though. Might want to work on that.” He remarked, noticeably disinterested.

Why would he be interested? He didn’t even need to look at the Slayer to know they were weak. Their sounds of struggle as they traversed the fallen trees behind them told him all he needed to know. He had never been interested in fighting weakened opponents. Where was the fun in that? No, he wanted a challenge. Always seeking a new rival to combat and train with for years to come.

It’s a shame those damn Hashiras never chose to turn.

They really would’ve made the centuries so much more fun.

“I’m not interested in facing off, if that’s what you came here for.” He blatantly remarked. “You’re not worth the time, I already know that. If you want to pick a fight, have at it with any of the others in the woods, human.” With that, he readied his fighting stance once more, just as he had prepped himself with earlier. A few seconds after, quick as lightning, he struck the tree directly in front of him with his fist. No sound of effort emitted from him, but the mighty cedar fell backwards with agonized creaks and shatters from the single strike.

She, once again, flinched from the sound of the fall, her eyes turning to look at the defeated cedar before turning back to Akaza once more. A part of her was somewhat surprised that he didn’t care that a human was standing behind him as a perfectly easy target, but another part reckoned that might have been to be expected from someone of his prowess.

It simply reaffirmed the facts she already knew to be true.

For a moment, she didn’t know what to do next. Something in her hadn’t expected to make it this far. She had been convinced, in the back of her mind, that the night would end with her devoured by some random lesser demon in the woods before she could ever hope to stumble upon Akaza. Somehow, someway, fate had listened to her begging and delivered, but now that she found him, what exactly was she supposed to do? Wasn’t this supposed to be as easy as she always envisioned it to be? Wasn’t handing herself over to a demon supposed to quickly fall into the same pattern of blood, violence and gore?

Another tree fell in the midst of her thoughts, this time vanquished by a curt kneeing from the demon. This time, she didn’t flinch, stuck in her head, her eyes focused on the markings on the back of Akaza’s neck.

“You’re still here.” He remarked with a deep sigh, annoyance laced in his tone as he straightened to stand up tall. “Why are you still here? You’re no challenge to me. I assume you got business with me, but let’s be real here, you and I both know how things will end if you really want to try, little Slayer.”

“I…I-I do. That’s why I’m here…” She finally found her voice, deciding she would follow the flow life decided to toss her way right now.

Akaza’s entire demeanor shifted at the sound of her. He startled in place, stiffening from the unexpected feminine voice which carried itself so dimly through the breeze. By instinct, he had assumed the Slayer whom came to so (stupidly) boldly stand before him was a man looking for a fight. He had made a few short guesses in the moment he had spoken to her, wondering if maybe it had been someone from the Corps come to avenge someone he had taken down. He wouldn’t have been surprised; it’s happened before. Nevertheless, he certainly did not expect a woman to approach him for battle tonight.   

Slowly, he turned on his heels, his odd, golden hued gaze, marked by the beast, coming to meet with hers. It didn’t take him long to take in the state she was in and to guess she was in no condition to put up any kind of fight, let alone with him if that’s really what she came out here to achieve. She had a noticeably heavy limp, most of her body weight balanced on her left foot. Her facial expression looked worn, spent and drained of all energy. Her Nichirin sword, a blade lethal to demons like him, remained sheathed at her side and she showed zero interest in pulling it out in any form of defense. Her uniform was one he was all too familiar with, having already guessed she was a Slayer long before he ever came to face her because of the distinctive scent of the cloth and the sound of her blade hitting her leg with each move she made.

Despite the roughened exterior, she was extremely feminine. A woman in all forms of the word. Her face was full, cheeks lusciously round with large doe eyes adored by long, fluttering lashes. Her lips, though pulled into a desperate frown due to the state she was in, were plush and pink, lightly pursed with the face she was making. Her hair was thick and tinted in (hair color) which shimmered in the light from the moon he had allowed entrance into the forest within their plain. Her uniform consisted of a knee-length skirt and the typical top he was accustomed to seeing on the Slayers, though it definitely filled out more with the curves of her womanly figure, the color of her legs contrasting heavily from her attire as well.

A woman. He thought to himself, dumbly.

He remained silent, completely taken aback by this predicament. He simply stared at the woman with his widened dual-colored eyes, trying to figure her out from where he stood.

“I know I’m no challenge for you,” She eventually spoke up again, her voice quiet, just there for him to hear. “I know you could…so easily do away with me…You could just…j-just end it all in a second if you wanted to, really…” She muttered, trailing off for a moment as her gaze shifted to the side despondently. “But that’s why I’m here. I…I-I don’t want to put up a fight…” Her gaze shifted back to look him in the eye, her composure quickly faltering and falling as she, quite literally, stared death in the face.

“I want you to kill me…Do what you will, eat me or just do it for the sport of it, b-but…kill me…”

Tears were beginning to surface in her eyes now, quickly blurring her vision before overflowing down the curve of her cheeks. All the while, her expression fell with them, her lips pulling into agonized whimpers as she forced the words out of her raw throat.

“I-I don’t want to be alive anymore,” She openly sobbed at the demon, a creature she knew wouldn’t care, but letting out the thoughts that had been screaming in her head for so long to anyone who would listen was better than letting them die in her head with her. “I d-don’t deserve to be alive, s-so just do it…Do it…!” She was sobbing now, her knees buckling heavily, causing for her sword to clatter loudly at her side. Out of desperation, she reached out to tightly grip at the demon’s loose haori in both of her fists, her legs finally giving out from underneath her.

Just like the mighty cedar, she collapsed with a loud thud that caused her world to quake, and through her blurred vision, she stared up at the man who would finish the job to let moonlight shine through when she was gone.

“K-kill me, take away my breath, wipe me out of existence! P-please, just make it stop! M-make the pain stop! I should’ve died ages ago, but I’m here and it isn’t fair! I don’t deserve to be here! Please, p-please…! I came to you myself, o-on a silver platter, it w-would be so…s-so easy to make it all end here tonight…! PLEASE! DEVOUR ME!” She pulled tightly on his haori, her eyes never leaving his in her pathetic state. She pleaded with him in all ways she thought she could, hoping to elicit some excitement and thrill of the kill in the powerful demon she clung to.

Anything to make the pain stop.

Anything to do away with the agony.

Anything to make the nightmare end.

Anything to stop the loneliness and guilt.

Anything to get what she so rightfully deserved.

Akaza, in turn, stared down at the human woman feeling an uncomfortable sense of foggy nostalgia. It wasn’t in the things she was saying or the desperation in her pleading, but from the tears and the hopeless look in her eyes. There was something…there. It was just out of reach in his mind, tickling his memories, whispering to him of times that never came to be nor came to exist. Yet, the nostalgia still rang.

Why did the nostalgia ring?

He didn’t know, so he continued to stare at the young woman, at a loss on how to react or respond. He made no move to touch her, simply looking down at her with an unreadable expression which more so teetered in the direction of bewilderment. After a moment’s consideration, he raised his hands hesitantly, confused on what he was supposed to do about the sobbing woman who now lowered her head deeply towards her chest as her body curled closer to the ground. Her arms remained outstretched above her, clinging to his haori as she openly cried her tears into the grassy ground of the woods.

He thought about removing her hands from his haori, but he couldn’t bring himself to do it. His hands lingered just above hers, his tainted fingers slightly trembling with indecisive energy, but he couldn’t bring himself to place them on hers to pry her off of him. In all his years of living as a demon, he had never had anyone so desperately seek him out to kill them like this. In battle, sure, when his opponent was mangled yet conscious enough to feel it all, but never so forward, out of the blue nor on purpose like this.

His lips parted with the attempt of speech, but no sound came from him. His mouth simply remained slightly agape before coming to a close a few seconds afterwards. The woman’s sobs had grown louder now, letting everything out she had buried within, and the sound of her heartbreak and loss of a will to go on caused for him to feel an incredible sense of growing unease and discomfort.

Was it pity he felt? He didn’t know, but he definitely felt something through this moral code of his.

Despite her distraught and the odd sensation it caused to bubble in him, Akaza had still caught on to the stirring of life in the woods around them. The sound of the woman must have caught the attention of the demons nearby. Did they really think it was such a good idea to encroach in his space? Apparently, at least one of them did. His eyes darted to the left as it shifted fast through the foliage before leaping out a second after in a bellowing flash of mindless hunger.

The sound of its heavy footsteps and soul-shattering bellow reached her viciously, jarring her in place as her eyes widened to stare at the ground beneath them through her constant tears. She only had seconds left to look up and see the beast that was running towards the two of them on all fours, all sense of sanity completely lost from the monstruous maw it held outstretched and salivating for her flesh.

Its fingers dug deeply into the ground each time its palms slammed onto it, booming repeatedly like massive drums straight out of the deepest depths of Hell. Its skin was covered in bulging, bright red blisters, pulsing and shifting with its savagely brusque movements. When its feet propelled it forward, it caused the fallen trees in its way to scatter wildly on either side of its massive rampaging form, slamming into the sides of the standing cedars near its position. It had three eyes – two where you expected them to be, and the third on its forehead, all of which stared wildly ahead of it. It sunk and registered in her the moment she saw them that its sights were primarily set on her, the only human in the forest, frail and vulnerable like a newborn lamb with a broken ankle left for dead.

Plan B was literally stomping towards her at the speed of sound and brutally forcing itself into her reality, whether she wanted it to or not.

In those split seconds before the collision, Akaza had moved before either of the two could notice. He had found the nerve in him to push her hands off of his haori for the sole purpose of planting his feet wide and strong on the ground in front of her. The sound of the earth cracking beneath his soles filled the air as his face morphed to one of sickened anger and his breath steadily left him through his nostrils. His hands moved so quick, their figures seemingly disappeared into thin air until they came to grapple onto one of the charging, deranged demon’s reaching arms. Without flinching, he lifted the massive creature into the air with little effort, the veins in his muscular arms bulging underneath his skin as he turned and slammed the beast into the cemetery of fallen cedar beside himself and the woman at his feet. A massive crater formed beneath its bulky, writhing body when it landed, the impact forcing the shattering of the earth beneath them to deepen and worsen dramatically.

With ease, he tugged strongly on the demon’s arm until it riiipped and tore from its socket. The atmosphere filled with its ear-shattering screech as blood splattered through the air with his curt yank of its enormous arm, but Akaza was unconvinced. He tossed the dismembered appendage into the woods as the beast roared in outrage and began to stand itself up, but before it could get itself very far, he had stomped his foot down ruthlessly on its chest, crushing bones beneath its skin from the force of the leisure blow. He pushed and pushed until the struggling monstruous being was buried in crackling earth. Meanwhile, its remaining arm attempted to reach for him and the woman while the other slowly began to regenerate at the bloodied stub. Promptly, Akaza gripped at its wrist, his fist crushing the bones in the demon’s arm as he, once again, ripped it from its socket as easy as ripping a paper in two.

“You’re new,” He let out in a low, husky, rough tone, eyes wide and staring into the mindlessly violent gaze the demon stared back into his as its own blood steadily began to pool in its crater. “So, I guess your stupidity in thinking you can rush into my space to take something from me is something you can do without an issue makes sense – but that isn’t the case anymore, is it?” He cocked his head to the side, raising his foot and stomping it back down onto the struggling, incoherent demon beneath him. Its bellows had never stopped from the moment Akaza had pinned it to the ground, the sound rattling the foundation of the forest, but it didn’t affect the Upper Moon in any way other than through annoyance and rage.

“I should give you a warning,” He mused, tutting as his foot stomped into the beast once again, forcing its chest to cave in on itself, blood pooling much faster in its crater; a morbid puddle of grotesque proportions. “Let you off with a tap on the wrist,” He reached down, eyes widening up further as the frown on his face deepened when his hand came to grip at the demon’s scraggly head of hair. It came off as though it had been a man before it was turned, and naturally, that made it even more enraging to him. Roughly, he tugged on the demon’s hair, forcing it to raise its head to properly look at him in the midst of its feral, bloody struggles. “That sounds fair, doesn’t it? Maybe I would have if it had just been me. Maybe I wouldn’t have thought twice about you. Maybe I would have let you scurry off without a second thought – but it’s not just me, is it? No, it isn’t. You came out here and charged at her, didn’t you?” He nodded his head, answering his own question as he reached down with his free hand to grip onto the beast’s jaw which hung wide at its snapping, open maw.

“Yeah, you did.”

Mercilessly, his grip tightened on its jaw and yaaanked backwards, tearing the bone and flesh right off of its skull in his iron grip. “You wanted to attack her, didn’t you? Eat her alive? Swallow her whole? Alleviate that disgusting salivation dripping from your mouth? Can’t say I’m surprised, but really,” He laughed humorlessly, tossing the bloodied jaw in his hand into the forest. “You should seriously know better with me here.” Pulling his bloodied foot out of the demon’s concaved chest, Akaza let out a heated breath and scowled deeply. “You sicken me. I hope your regeneration is quick,” He remarked, looking towards the stubs of the demon’s arms and the unnatural groove in its chest where his foot had once been. They were yet to heal, leading him to believe its regenerative abilities were not that strong. A lesser demon in all regards. “You’re gonna need it. Now,” He reached down and grabbed at its twisting body, listening to the gurgled sounds it produced with the lack of a lower jaw. Lifting the beast into the air on both of his hands, Akaza planted his feet firmly on the ground once more, facing the forest ahead.

“Get the hell out of my sight!”

With a mighty heave, he sent the demon hurtling forward through the air, quickly colliding with a path of cedars, easily smashing right through several rows of the thick, ancient trees long before the beast came to a brutal stop a good distance away. Akaza maintained his readied fighting stance, bringing his hands to the ready in front of him in case the demon was senseless enough to look for an actual fight.

It seemed that the beast was smarter than he thought, though, because as soon as it landed, it scrambled on its pathetically bubbling limbs before rushing into the forest to disappear in the dark.

After that, the world plunged into silence once more.

Not even the sound of insects minding their business in their microscopic world could be heard.

The young woman stared up at the Upper Moon’s back with a widened, horrified gaze. She was a crumpled heap on the forest floor, completely at this demon’s mercy, and the spectacle he had shown the Plan B demon was something that caused ice to crystalize through her veins. If he could be that vicious to one of his own kind, what’s to say he wouldn’t be equally as cruel with her? What’s to say he wouldn’t toy with her and inflict as much pain on her as he could just to watch her writhe and cry until he eventually got fed up with her enough to let her die? He was enraged so easily, so quickly…How would it feel? To have his strong hands wrap his ink-dipped fingers around her extremities similarly to how his pearls ensnared his ankles until he crushed her bones? To have him stomp down on her until parts of her caved in? To have him hurtle her through bark and cedar until she was nothing but a mess of human flesh and blood being soaked up by the soil?

She came to Akaza for a quick, painless death – but had she miscalculated?

Would a lesser demon like the one he just pulverized into submission have been more merciful?

Will a confrontation with him be unbelievable agony?

Would she feel every single thing he did to her until the life seeped out of her, or would adrenaline sink in and numb some of the pain by the time things got that bad?

The tears started flowing again, dripping down her chin and clinging to her eyelashes until she blinked them away. Her body started trembling violently as Akaza straightened to stand normally once more. When he turned to face her, a pitiful whimper forced itself out of her lips, her instincts making her kick her heels into the dirt to push her a few feet away from him uselessly.

COWARD, COWARD, COWARD! THE OTHERS HAD IT A MILLION TIMES WORSE THAN YOU! FACE YOUR FATE! ACCEPT THE CONSEQUENCES YOU SO RIGHTFULLY DESERVE!

When he started walking towards her, easily stepping over the carnage of blood and cedar, her heart sank for the millionth time tonight. It was happening. It was finally happening. He was going to heed to her request. He was going to give her what she came to him for – whether it was for better or for worse. Her crying came out broken and choppy now, her chest quickly puffing in and out from how hard it was for her to maintain a composed breath. When he was standing right in front of her, she shut her eyes tightly and allowed her head to hang low again, her shoulders heaving as she waited for the inevitable.

Several long, agonizingly slow seconds passed where nothing happened. She felt nothing, sensed nothing, heard nothing. She didn’t know what was scarier – the actual act of the kill or the anticipation for the blow that was to come. She supposed it wouldn’t matter either way soon enough.

The sound of crinkling leaves is what first broke the silence. The sound of movement. It was abrupt and didn’t last very long, but it was there and it was definitely caused by Akaza. Then, all of a sudden, in the dark of her tightly blocked vision, she felt his hands gently brushing his fingers along her wet cheeks until her face was cupped in a pair of roughly calloused, warm palms slickened with blood. A moment after, the feeling of his thumbs brushing her skin and painting it red tantalized her senses, causing for the eruption of gooseflesh to spread all over her arms. Despite the morbidity of it, the gesture from the demon somehow felt so…gentle. Soft. Tender. Almost…kind.

Could that even be real? Could that seriously even happen? A kind demon? A demon kind towards a human?

She knew of Nezuko’s existence, but from her vague understanding of the circumstances, she was a special case.

Akaza was in an entirely different category all on his own, not to mention his ranking with the twelve Kizuki.

No, this kind touch has to be a cruel joke…His palms, rough-skinned from his training and stained crimson from his brief, sadistic fight, cupping her tear-stricken face with this level of…compassion? Comfort? She didn’t even know how to label the feeling, but it was definitely something she had never envisioned herself labeling upon a demon’s touch.

Was he toying with her? Giving her a false sense of safety before he’d rip her head clean off of her body the way the Slayers’ blades cleanly sliced those of the demons off of theirs? After all, through the touches, she still felt that blood being caressed softly on her face, a cold and honest reminder of what exactly she was dealing with. Though the thought terrified her of the unknown oblivion which waited beyond living, curiosity bested her fear and willed her to open her eyes to look upon the world one last time.

Before her, Akaza had gotten on his knees to better stare down onto her frightened expression with a look of perplexed curiosity of his own. She struck what felt like olden memories in his head by the way she cried and sniveled. The sound strummed cords in him he didn’t know existed, long since dissolved in a past he couldn’t be entirely sure was once reality or something his dreams came up with when he rested in refuge away from the light of day – and now, as he gently stroked the skin of her face out of his own curious nature, the feeling brought other unknown instincts to life in him.

It had always been his moral code not to involve himself with human women. He wasn’t to fight with nor eat any of them, because that was simply the way he chose to live his life. It was a moral code he fiercely followed – what first brought it upon him, he wasn’t so sure. When he looked at the Slayer before him now, however, the image of her crying, frightened state answered a few of his questions in choppy phrases. Nothing linked quite well just yet, but he knew from the look of her that she came off…defenseless. He knew there had to be something strong in her by human standards, of course, that would amount to her becoming a Demon Slayer, but it was more than that. It was just…something else he couldn’t put his finger on. A strong desire to save the life she was so desperate to throw away.

Why would I want to do something like that? His brow furrowed slightly at the thought, his perplexed expression deepening. I don’t know you. You’re just some random human woman who stumbled into me with a ridiculous request. Why would I care? If you were anyone else – any other man I’d faced – I would have ended you on the spot…but there’s something in your eyes. Something…there.

But it was gone before he could grasp it in his mind. The memory dissipated like dust, drifting into the dark of his subconscious, leaving him only with the woman in front of him to make sense of the strange, growing protective feeling he had swelling in his chest.

“No.”

“…N…N-no…?” She repeated meekly, her voice forced out of her throat in a cautious, shaken tremble.

“No, I won’t kill you.”

Her brow furrowed in confusion and her lips parted, taken aback, surprised by the sudden answer to what she had begged him for. She stared at him for numerous, silent moments through the blurring tears in her eyes, unable to shake off just how bizarre that sentence sounded coming from a demon’s lips. Any demon would’ve leaped at the easy catch she came to offer tonight – one of which quite literally did. She had been completely positive that Akaza would have been similar. Maybe not as mindless nor deranged, but she had been convinced he would’ve reveled in the chance to play with easy prey. So…

“W-why not…?”

Akaza didn’t respond. He simply stared at her, one of his bloodied hands sliding further back on her cheek to allow his fingers to weave through her (hair color) locks. His striking dual-colored eyes practically stared right into her soul from how intently he observed and drank her in.

“Relax,” He spoke in a soft murmur. “I won’t hurt you.”

As the words left him, he pulled his hand back from her hair and stiffened it tightly, fingers straightened, before bringing it down firmly over the back of her neck.  

She barely had a moment to really register what had just happened. The only thing she was able to notice in those few seconds before she lost consciousness was the powerful blow to her neck and the gentleness in the demon’s eyes. After that, the world slipped out from under her, gravity taking its toll and greedily pulling her towards its core. Akaza, however, caught her against his chest, having brought his arms down to wrap them around her waist so he could properly hold her to his larger figure. For a moment, he just held her, staring at the forest floor as his bloodied hands stained her uniform and her head lulled onto his shoulder. Again, there was something there. Something poking at his subconscious. Knocking at the door of his mind, cooing at him in seductive whispers to open up, but the door disappeared as soon as he attempted to reach out to let it in.

He turned his head to look at the woman in his grip and he squeezed her in closer to himself. This human woman felt…soft all over to hold. Warm. Plush. It was something he was unused to in contrast to his rigorous training, finely toned physique and all of the battles and missions he had been sent on over the course of the centuries he’s lived through. She was the complete polar opposite of everything he knew, really.

Not wanting to dwell too long in the confusing thoughts, he shook his head clear of them, bringing his focus back to the here and now. He stood up with her in his arms, shifting her in his grasp until he had her cradled in both of his arms up against his chest with her head resting on his bicep. Once he carefully settled her in, he began walking deeper into the forest of whispering cedar.

Any other demon would’ve devoured her on the spot, but he had no such desire.

For now, he had to get her the hell out of the forest to start saving her life.

Saving her life…What a strange thing for a demon to consider.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Thank you so very much for making it this far! I hope you enjoyed the first chapter to my fic! c: I appreciate it tons and I hope you're all doing well on your ends of the world and that you guys have loving support systems <3 Much love and hugs, God bless you all! \nwn/ <3

#akaza #akaza x reader #akaza x y/n #kny #kny akaza #demon slayer #kimetsu no yaiba #kimetsu akaza #akaza comfort #comfort #depression #suicidal thoughts triggers #please read the warnings #fanfiction #ao3 writer #ao3 author #ao3 link #read on a03 #read on wattpad #fanfic #ao3 fanfic #demon slayer fanfic #kimetsu no yaiba fanfic #akaza fanfic #angst #angst and comfort #kyojurou #kny kyojuro #demon slayer kyojuro #rengoku

[myimaginedcorner]

A TUMBLR STORY: TORN PAGE (p. 22)

PREVIOUS RESULT: It calls you... you must answer.

I will not be forgotten.

Your heart stopped; your mind got shattered by a roar escaped from the abyss. It was power made sound, a voice that plucked each mortal nerve while being a mere echo of its former glory. Deep, it was wise, the knowledge of eons stored in every note. From those words alone, you knew you stood in front of an existence worthy to rival the divine.

You took a step. Unconscious, possessed, not by a demon but by a desire most ambitious – the wish to understand.

I am Hallax. I am the Beginning.

Yes, you had heard that name before. They were the Dragon of Life, the Guardian of Nainrhani – Hallax the First, such was the title mortals chose to bestow Them. When the elven race, young and naïve, opened their first pair of eyes to a world vast and wild, there They were, the Beast in Emerald, the Tamer of Mortality. Under Their wings, Death was unwelcomed in the city for long centuries – a fact so shameless it will soon be lost to legend.

I see your soul – so bright, so vivid. You’re alive.     

“What are you doing…?” as Ashna tried to stop you, M ceased their hand, keeping their fingers off your arm.

“They’re listening. Let them listen,” frowned the human.

“Listening to what? It’s dangerous there, there’s no one else around!” as they protested, Ashna’s voice died down, absorbed by the two whirlpools of M’s eyes.

“Then it was meant to wait for us,” Hibiscus’ whisper overflowed with reverence. Amidst thick eyelashes, crystals formed, small drops of water rolling down her cheek. The tragic beauty of the view in front had her lips purse, her eyes – a mirror to the world’s sorrow.

You heard none of it. You were not there but somewhere else, lost in a darkness unfamiliar. Odd, you thought – you had spent your last few years in darkness. The darkness of the empty rooms, the darkness of the dusty ruins, of stairs climbing deeper down and that of a big hall, where phantom eyes greeted you, embedded into the cold stone…

You have seen Them.

The condescending voice had changed; no longer did the dragon speak to you like a fallen god, but as a friend, an old acquaintance. You were no longer just an elf daring to show no respect; you were something more.

I see; so we have truly lost.

There was sadness to the mighty voice; a pain that would remain forever, an eternal guilt. Perhaps, it had been in denial until now, refusing to believe that Their claws laid, unmoving, for there was no muscle left on them, or that their breath was gone, no longer heating up the heavens. The revelation struck Them, as it always does; but beasts like these do not succumb nor falter.

I am sorry, child.

There was warmth to the strong voice. The care of a master that had lost its pet; the self-reproach a teacher suffers when their student fails. Except, it was not you who failed, but Them; and so, the pain was stronger.

“Are you alright?” Amani was next to try and intervene; Laefen was next to stop her.

“Don’t you see? They’re busy!” scoffed the elf, arms crossed.

“Stand aside, that’s an order,” hissed the Leader. “We must make sure our main scholar stays in their right mind.”

“By taking them out of a trance? That’s stupid! You’ll just make things worse!”

“How do you know?”

“Because I’ve seen that happen plenty of times. Want to get them out? Find the source. But you’ll have some trouble getting rid of it.”

As the elf nodded at the wall, all eyes landed on the wide, white bones laid across. Amani paled, knowing not what to do.

“You see?” chuckled Laefen. “We better just wait. They’ll be back, I’m sure – they’re too smart to let some mind trick from a dead corpse defeat them.”

You have seen Them. Perhaps, it was meant to be.

Meanwhile, your world had brightened up in an explosion of light. Emerald splashed around you, covering the field, painting your comrades with strings and webs chaotically tangling, ever-changing. The sky showed to be blue, the mountains, grey, the soil between the threads as brown and dry as it had been for the past days of travel; and yet, all changed within an instant, born anew into a world completely different. You saw how alien the dirt was to your sparkling fingers; you saw how grass, weak and shy, reached for the sunrays to increase its brightness, emerald twinkling in a modest embroidery made by the most skilful hand. Nature smiled at you, naked to your eyes – you saw through it, into its heart.

Your mind is strong to see it. Take my knowledge, child; make this city eternal.

#torn page #tumblr story #tumblr community #new page

[fwaooo]

luke skywalker has me in a chokehold, i regret nothing but sorry for the mess. this isn't really a fic, more like an outline? (it’s my first tumblr post, pls let me know if i effed things up)

(e)mét dinluke established relationship, android au | angst, suspense, mild horror | cw: death

luke goes missing, presumably taken by imperial remnants. after about a week, leia is no longer able to sense luke in the force, they fear the worst.

a month or so later, luke arrives back home, injured but alive. he escaped, destroying the base he was taken to in the process.

when asked what happened, luke says they were trying to experiment on the force, so he closed himself off, causing leia to perceive he was dead. then how did i escape? luke doesn’t have a full idea of the experiments but he managed to grab an encrypted chip of data

time has been odd in the lab. there are some points he cannot remember entirely. some are vague impressions. some he remembers two sets of events.

luke has trouble reconnecting to the force. whatever he did to disconnect himself it was done instinctively and too well. despite luke standing right in front of them, leia and grogu have difficulty sensing him. the two do their best to find a fix, leia through research, grogu through connecting with force ghosts.

it takes a moment for anakin, obiwan and yoda to recognize luke. his force signature is muted, desaturated. they hesitate. they suggest luke to meditate with other force users, to have them aid and coax the force and luke to reconnect. for a moment, it was as if luke was an abyss, a black hole in the force.

luke works on decrypting the chip. he’s worried about the experiments that were conducted in the lab. what if they target other force users? what if they target leia and grogu? he doesn’t ask others for their help on the chip. he is afraid. he knows it shouldn’t be, but his family is everything.

when luke dreams at night, he no longer has nightmares. but he cannot recall the rush of joy when he found out leia was his sister. the thrill of flying his x wing. the overwhelming love when he first kissed din. he knows what emotions were felt at the time but the feeling is out of reach.

din does not understand the force, so he does what he can instead. he provides and protects. he brews tea when luke is frustrated over the lack of progress, he tucks a tired grogu in bed after meditation. luke and din may not have exchanged wedding vows yet but they know their relationship is true. din, grogu, and luke, a clan of three. din’s whole world. he never expected to have a family once more after the droids had taken his first one from him.

luke decrypts the chip. he wish he hadn’t. how can this be true? he’s luke skywalker, always has been and always will be. he was born to padme amidala and anakin skywalker. he was raised in tattooine by uncle owen and aunt beru. he had fought in the rebellion against the empire. he— he— he slices down his left arm. he sees wires.

leia and grogu are able to sense the bond with luke once more. he is able to send basic thoughts to them, he is able to levitate objects, his strength in the force grows daily. a black hole.

they are attacked and luke is injured when trying to protect the children. they were distracted, several of luke’s students had fallen ill. there is no blood, only oil and sparks. then what were these fluids running down his face?

droids had destroyed din’s world once. he knows they were only puppets, ordered by their master, but the shadowed mastermind was not the one that littered the streets of his childhood home with corpses. droids are the symbol of violence, of trauma, of lost happiness. din dislikes droids, din is afraid of droids. luke skywalker is an android.

who is he? what is he? he looks like luke skywalker. he has memories of luke skywalker. he acts like luke skywalker. but he is no longer made of flesh and blood. it's no longer only his right hand that is made of wires and gears. who does that make him? what does that make him? what makes luke skywalker who he is?

the android is a ticking time bomb. a vacuum that siphons and steals. a parasite. its "will" does not matter. it was created for a purpose. both an experiment and a puppet. can the force be stolen? can a non-force user wield the force? can they leash luke skywalker?

robota. it doesn’t matter if “luke skywalker” wants to protect his family. its purpose was not to give, only to take.

din goes to the ruined lab. there is barely anything left after the explosion. but he finds mangled steel and wires that seems to have come from a hand. he holds it tightly to his chest, whispering apologies and words of love. he buries it at the base of the tree that luke loved (loves) to meditate under.

“luke” loves his family and his family love luke. the luke who is no longer here, the luke that is the true owner of these memories and feelings. he is an imposter, a thief that stole luke’s home and family. but isn’t he luke in all parts that matter?

smiles, tears, compassion, strength, the good, the bad. it’s all the same. then isn’t that enough?

leia sees her brother, han and chewie see their friend, r2d2 and c3po see their companion, grogu sees his teacher and din. din sees—

din sees—

din sees blue eyes. leia and din hold luke's hand. they visit where he is buried. "welcome home, luke."

#dinluke #luke skywalker #fanfic #angst #android luke skywalker #cw: death #but is it really?

[idlebeks]

Steddie Fic Recs

I took a left turn on Tumblr somehow and ended up falling face first into the Stranger Things Steddie fandom. So here, have some fic recs.

chat with you, baby (flirt a little, maybe) by desiccatedwithering (acornsofthemind)

“Hey, shitheads!” Steve “the hair” Harrington barks, looming in the doorway like a monster from the Abyss. “What the fuck are you doing in here? Get your asses down to the gym right fucking now.”

Eddie gapes. First of all, the audacity— Second, he’s never been much for physical fights, but if this douchebag thinks he can bully any of Eddie’s kids, he’ll have to go through Eddie first.

“Let’s go! Move it!” Harrington snaps, making an impatient gesture down the hall.

The One in Which a Time Loop is Fucking Exhausting. by badpancake

It’s the first time in a while that he doesn’t know what comes next. He’s dove into the water hundreds of times. Screamed as his flesh was torn apart, heard Master of Puppets in the distance and held back tears. Felt Max’s cold, small hand in his as she laid in the hospital bed. There are things that always happen, no matter how hard he tries: El doesn’t arrive in time. Eddie dies. Max is put in a coma.

Steve fails. They lose.

“Steve, how many loops have you been through?”

His head is nodding, and his eyes are watery, and Eddie has approached him like a spooked animal.

“I lost count.”

AKA: The one where Steve Harrington is stuck in a time loop, and Eddie Munson is really fucking hard to save, or: fuck Volume 2, these bitches are in love.

don't go wastin your emotions by kissesforcas

"Steve 'the Hair' Harrington, a rage-filled barbarian, who knew?" Eddie says, like its a compliment, like Steve has ANY idea what that means.

"Uh, I knew. Obviously." Steve says, wisely, even though he clearly didn't. "Anyway, do you think we could eat a demobat? Or would we turn into some kind of monstrous freak? I'm starving, and Dustin's cheese crackers are not enough to get me on my feet again."

"What difference does it make to me if I'm a human freak or a monster one?" Eddie shrugs, and Steve butts his shoulder up against Eddie. It's meant to be brotherly, maybe friendly, but it's too soft. Felt like something he might have done before slinging an arm around a girl's shoulders.

"You're not a freak." Steve says, and finds he means it.

Eddie's eyes, when he looks at Steve, are curious. "No?"

"No."

Sanctuary by SpicedSage

After Steve Harrington goes missing, Eddie Munson gets exposed to the secret dangers of Hawkins, Indiana in 1985 instead of 1986.

Will a different first meeting lead to a change in his fate?

wouldn't it be nice (if we could wake up) by kissesforcas

Steve finds his pulse. He carries Eddie out of the Upside Down, he keeps his heart beating until they get to the hospital.

And then the government intervenes, that shady part of the government? With Sullivan? And he and Eddie wind up locked up, together, in a cell. There's one bed, and glass walls, and it turns out that he and Eddie? Might need each other more than either of them thought they might.

Steve Harrington's Guide To Planning a Party (Without Blowing Up) by Anonymous

In a way, Steve was kind of grateful for the swift intervention. He knew now, after all, that most people in the world didn't have the ability to pick out people's emotions, and in a town like Hawkins he wouldn't have lasted long if he commented on every feeling he encountered. It was the reason why despite everything, he had turned out normal, despite all of life's attempts to turn him into something other than a popular somewhat dim-witted jock.

And then one day he’d walked into the Byers household and been slapped in the face with the most godawful aura he'd ever experienced in his life, and he just knew he wasn’t going to be coming back from this. or: Steve has secret powers, which isn't really an issue except he's now dealing with his unexpected feelings(tm) for one Eddie Munson and suddenly things just got a lot more complicated. Also, he has the nasty habit of blowing shit up when he gets stressed which makes the whole 'secret' part of his powers hard. The situation is totally and completely under his control, he just has to plan this stupid 'We saved the world (again)' party and he should be fine. Totally fine.

The Jester's Gambit by GreenQueenofClubs

The thing was, these popular types, the Royalty of High School Society? They just wanted to be entertained. They wanted something to break though the dull monotony of life at the top of the food chain, and if nothing happened to catch their interest, they made their own fun. Good thing Eddie was unparalleled at keeping little sheeps entertained.

smoking guns (hot to the touch) by fivecenturiesverse

Sure, they've saved the world, but the best part of that really is that it doesn't end there and in a town where everyone thinks he murdered a girl, he's at least got Steve Harrington and Robin Buckley. It's really not his fault he accidentally starts living at Steve's house, he was invited, after all. There's a mystery too, about Barbara Holland and Steve's pool.

Star of the Masquerade by glorious_spoon

Steve jerks awake, sitting up so quickly that Robin almost topples over and staring wildly around the room. When his gaze lands on Eddie, he blanches visibly.

“Oh, shit,” he mutters. “Come on, no. Come on. Not again.”

“Harrington?” Eddie asks slowly. He does not love the way that Steve is staring at him right now. He really doesn’t. Steve looks like he’s staring at a ghost, a bloodied monster, like Eddie is something that should not exist in the light of day. “You good, dude?”

off the beaten path by pukner

"I'm saying this," says Steve, loudly, cutting him off, "because someone I love is, uh, gay. And I love them, but like, platonically. And also me calling you a queer might've been a little hypocritical, in restrospect."

There is a long, baffled pause.

"What," says Jonathan, "Steve, are you--are you coming out to me?"

Steve frowns, "Oh, yeah, I guess I am. Cool."

Or, post season 3, Steve manages to figure out that he's bisexual, despite his best efforts to repress it, comes out to Robin and Jonathan Byers of all people, and figures himself out. Also, there's a cute guy who might be actually insane running the kids' dnd club and he's got his eye on him. And his bandana.

Too bad Eddie Munson hasn't had a similar revelation. He's still under the impression that he's a straight man obsessing over Steve Harrington for normal, extremely heterosexual reasons.

OR: Steve figures out he's bi before Eddie figures out that he's gay. Eddie still manages to fall first.

you are young and life is long (and there is time to kill today) by heartofwinterfell

Eddie Munson’s no hero. Too bad the universe—or whatever’s gonna be left of it—didn’t get the memo.

[or, eddie is going to save himself and his friends or die trying. many, many times.]

let's do the time (loop) again by alchemystique

“Did you, uh… did you sing to me, once?” Eddie asks, sitting on the hood of Steve’s car and staring up at the sky so he doesn’t have to pretend he isn’t desperate for everything promised in the eyes that haven’t left Eddie since Eddie woke up in that hospital bed. It’s just –

Time loops, and the King of Hawkins High going back over and over and over again just to stop Eddie Munson from dying, and –

“Fuck,” Steve says, and Eddie doesn’t remember, but there’s a song that won’t leave his head, and the voice is soft and warm just like the way Steve smiles at him and – “I didn’t think you remembered any of it.”

---

Eddie died in a time loop a hundred times and all Steve got was this tee-shirt.

On The Frozen Lake, Jagged and Beautiful by kayeslin

Steve Harrington is a background character in Eddie’s life, one who he only knows because it’s a small town and everyone knows everyone. Everyone has some distant connection, some oddly personal anecdote about everyone else in town.

Eddie’s connection is that he’s been slowly falling in love with the guy for years before ever getting to know the real him. When he does, it only makes it worse.

- (or: Eddie lives out a queer teen RomCom while the Upside Down goes 'hehehe' out of frame)

wishbone by greatunironic

"So when Stevie noticed Eddie wasn’t dicking around with Dustin out in the field anymore, she’d run herd on her precious little shitheads before deciding to go look for him; because she remembered what it was like, she knew what it was like, the first few days after, during, and he probably, maybe needed someone to talk to so she thought probably, maybe that someone could be her. And that was what she set out to do, Jesus Christ, Robin, she didn’t always think with her snatch, okay?" In which Stevie Harrington has a habit of making out with people at the end of the world.

dogfish by greatunironic

“Sorry, little brother,” he says. His thumbs trace the muscles in his neck. “You know. It was a neat trick. But I’m afraid you just aren’t that special, in the end.”

Or: In a world where after Eight escapes, and before Eleven, another child makes it out of the lab.

Space Age Love Song by bicetea

In the dark space of the boat house, dust motes twirling around her, she asked time a question. And time said yes.

Or: Steve Harrington is given a chance to save Eddie months before all the shit with Vecna goes down.

a plain and indestructible thing by phonemicengineer

“This is us, huh?” Steve asks her, reaching out to lay a hand between her ears. His face aches, and she has a bit of blood matted in the fur around her left eye; matching wounds. There’s black ichor and gore coated up her muzzle and down her ruff, and when she opens her mouth her teeth are large and wicked looking.

“Do you even have to ask?” she mutters, leaning her full weight against him.

the feeling that you give me, wanna give it right back by QueerOnTilMorning

“You’re talking out of your ass, Harrington. You have no basis for comparison whatsoever.” He’s perched on the edge of the couch cushion, leaning forward so he can more effectively yell at Steve, who’s sprawled out on his elbows on the floor.

“I have a dick, don’t I?” Steve snaps back. Eddie thanks his personal pantheon of indifferent gods that his face is already pink with annoyance, so he doesn’t humiliate himself by blushing over nothing more than an oblique reference to Steve Harrington’s dick.

“Just because you have one doesn’t mean–”

"You're the one who has no basis for comparison! I at least have some kind of experience with blow jobs. Lots of experience, in fact."

"Yes, we all know you're a huge slut, Steve," Eddie says. "No need to brag."

Every time Steve comes over to Eddie's to smoke up, they end up in some kind of stupid argument. Usually it's about music, or movies, or whether Dustin should ever be allowed to have a pet again. But tonight, somehow–Eddie can't remember exactly how it got started, but he definitely blames Steve–they're in each other's faces about which of them gives better head.

#stranger things fic recs #steddie fic recs #fic recs #i dont know how this happened #i dont even go here #but somehow i have done nothing but consume steddie fics for the last several weeks

[sixstepsaway]

follow up to the two-part persona ask, I do also wonder if Izzy missed or misplaced the significance of “haven’t tried dying yet” because he mentally classifies every harebrained break from the maintenance of Blackbeard as ‘Edward’s Gonna Get Us All Killed If I Don’t Pay Clean This Up’, constantly being *in* a state of nearly dying- therefore when Ed actually *does* fuck up the date, izzy cant ‘fix’ it, having been reassured ed wasn’t too bad off by the oh plan to Kill Blackbeard and be Bonnet.

This got lost in my box somehow because I am positive I was awake 11hours ago but somehow I did not see this? Okay, whatever, at least it made it to me eventually lmao

I'm going to show you some caps from that scene because I promise you Izzy felt the full depth of "haven't tried dying yet" and just went into instant denial over it because of how painful the concept was to him.

(Tumblr: You can only have 10 images sorry. Me: I will dual you outside of a chick-fil-a, square up.)

I'd like to note here that Ed, much like the rest of us Mentally Ill Bitches, knows there's something wrong with him. "I shouldn't be bored. I'm fucking Blackbeard." He knows something is fucked up in that skull of his, but unfortunately it's 1717 and he's a man so he can't be diagnosed with hysteria and nothing else has really been deduced yet, so he's stuck just knowing his head's a mess and he can't fix it. Which, uh, is a really fucking depressing thought actually!

Izzy is also the one that gives Ed the idea of suicide, and that's... a whole new thing for Izzy to have to chew on, you know?

First time I went back through this scene, I focused on the fact Ed hones in on suicide as a notion to end his boredom, then meets Stede and, before Stede introduces him to the idea of retirement, he tells him he's 'been thinking of packing it all in', implying he's been genuinely considering yeeting himself into the abyss. Which was painful in itself.

But rewatching this scene with the singular purpose of honing in on Izzy and Con O'Neill's excellent micro expression acting even in the shots where he's turned away or blurry?

Agonizing, thank you.

This one especially. The furrow in his brow. The soft intensity in his eye. He's just heard his #1 person in the world say he's thinking dying could be the next big adventure because he can't stand living anymore and he inadvertently put the idea in his head. Babygirl is suffering.

God, this shot.

And then, coming back to my Cinematography Commentary™, this is another long shot from far away that makes you feel how isolated and alone Izzy feels. Delightful!

And then he writes it off and goes into denial because what else is he meant to do there? And goes to put the little ship away respectfully because Edward likes it lmao.

So: Missed or misplaced? No. Went into instant denial because it was too much for his already traumatized brain to bear? Absolutely. We talk a lot about how Izzy already has his own trauma and mental illness, whether it's from headcanons like @treesofgreen's re: sa, or just from a long life of piracy which has been established to be fucking terrible (beatings etc from Hornigold) and Izzy's clear class dynamics, but we don't really talk about his trauma and mental illness in relation to managing Ed's, and honestly? It's not a surprise that there's a step too far for Izzy's brain to handle and it's, "Edward wants to kill himself."

therefore when Ed actually *does* fuck up the date, izzy cant ‘fix’ it, having been reassured ed wasn’t too bad off by the oh plan to Kill Blackbeard and be Bonnet.

The plan to kill Stede comes after the lighthouse, so this is a slightly incorrect timeline. Izzy spends this entire episode in a state of "we're all fucking going to die" up until Ed does his flouncy little, "Frankfurters!" declaration in the fog, at which point he's so relieved and happy that Ed is still the genius he knows he is and that Ed had a plan to save them all along, and then Ed says, "Furthermore, it's a full moon--" and Izzy's life turns upside down again because Ed fucked that up and they're all going to die after all.

#tw suicide #edward teach #edward teach meta #izzy hands #izzy hands meta #blackhands #blackhands meta #ofmd #ofmd meta #our flag means death #ask #anonymous

[that-foul-legacy-lover]

hey hey!! this is chatterbox anon; was wondering if some of my asks got eaten by tumblr :D I sent something akin to a feels trip with a dendro vision S/O + the abyss on other news, i got a few other ideas too; Childe and S/O having a family, and while Childe loves to fight, neither he or foul legacy can bear the thought of letting S/O look after the local strays/garden pets, their kids AND the house on their own whenever Childe's spars leave them both injured, so, Childe swaps places with Dottore! No one questions the change as they're all too happy to beat the sick doctor to ER on a regular basis.

Childe now fights Zhongli, who doesn't mind; however, they still spar in a dojo/gym/empty space meant for it, as FL does not want the kids to learn of everything so early or so fast. Well, they know the moth exists, they just haven't been told that those arms only good for hugs and piggy back rides- Oh and, another funny idea; FL freaking out internally when one of Childe and S/Os kids ask if they can start training now once they are at a reasonable age, it's difficult to ignore the request given not only is the kid responsible but they have a vision (a pyro vision, which in my HC symbolizes a strong passion for something which they want to spread/teach ; even Diluc is passionate for many things, and the rest was obvious) Childe having a child who is passionate about training/getting stronger to protect, while FL screams confusedly in the distance was simply TOO comedic to me, i'm so sorry

that first point about you taking care of so much gave me an idea- it's Foul Legacy who notices and gets Childe to stop his weekly spars with the Traveler

you never even complained about it or anything- in fact, you're content with working hard, it's just become a part of your life at this point. but Foul Legacy begins to notice how quickly you fall asleep at night, how little you speak unless prompted, too tired to come up with words, and how little by little you become more and more fatigued. Childe cares for the kids and house with you, but even the relieved pressure of that isn't enough to combat your busy schedule of work and looking after seemingly everything. Foul Legacy's more focused on you, see, even if he loves the children, and more often than not you drop right to sleep whenever he starts cuddling you

so he starts pestering Childe to drop his sparring sessions- they're fun, yes, but they take a lot our of him and a lot out of you from patching him up- plus, Foul Legacy had curiously lost most of his battle-hungry nature ever since he met you, and Childe could always go out to find something or someone else less damaging to fight. Childe agrees rather quickly, since he was already considering it too, but decides to keep it a secret to surprise you!!!

the next Monday, you're in your office doing more work and the kids are playing in the backyard when your door creeks open, Childe peeking around the corner. you're confused- isn't his appointment right now? but he just grins and says that he... shifted that responsibility to someone else, so he could spend more time with him family <33 he immediately poofs into Foul Legacy, scooping you up and setting you on his lap with a purr- he's missed your snuggles!!! the ones where you're awake!!! and since it's earlier, you're not as tired, so please give him pets!!! once the kids come inside he'll have to go back to being Childe, and Foul Legacy gets sad when deprived of your affections!!!

#genshin impact #childe #tartaglia #foul legacy #foul legacy childe #genshin tartagalia #genshin childe #genshin tartaglia #chit chat #chatterbox anon #*sobbing* I'M SORRY MY COMRADE MY MIND JUST GOES BLANK WHEN IT COMES TO THIS STUFF #I DUNNO WHY IT JUST DOES SO I LATCHED ON TO THE FIRST POINT #this is very cute tho!!!! you have lovely ideas <33 #foul legacy cares mostly about you so he takes snuggle time VERY seriously #short scenario #other's stuff

[shera-dnd]

AT LONG LAST IT IS HERE!

It took me powering through several writers blocks, rewriting this TWICE, and (I'm not even kidding me) AO3 GLITCHING ON ME!

But it's finally done. The next step in my long elaborate plot to trans every Schnee's gender

This time it's a story about Whitney following in her brother's footsteps and becoming a huntress

It also features some delightful art by @midnightechoes which you can check now on AO3 or wait for her reblog if you also wanna support her here on tumblr

anyways sorry again for the wait, and I hope you guys enjoy the read

Falling. He was falling.

White and blue surrounded in darkness as he fell further and further into the abyss.

She dove after him, flying as fast as she could. 

She had to save him. She couldn’t fail again, couldn’t let another person die for her.

She got closer and closer, her hand reaching for his, barely inches apart.

She screamed his name…

…and then he was gone.

~~~

“Weiss!” Winter screamed as she bolted up in her bed.

Around her were not the golden pathways of that strange place, but a simple tent; one of the many set around the walls of Vacuo, a home for the countless atlesian refugees that now gathered in the desert.

It had been weeks since the incident at the central location. 

Weeks since she lost her brother.

And weeks of waking up just like this…

If only she had come sooner, if only she hadn’t wasted so much time with Ironwood. If she had realized earlier that her loyalties weren’t worth all this pain she caused.

It didn’t matter. Winter could sit there all night thinking of what ifs, but it wouldn’t change what had come to pass. 

Weiss was gone, and she only had herself to blame.

A sigh escaped her lips. She wouldn’t be getting any sleep like this. It would be better to do something with herself, get her mind away from this, and try again later.

And that’s how she found herself stepping out of her tent and into the desert. 

The shattered moon glowed brightly in the sky above, and the brisk air of the desert night almost reminded her of her now lost home. 

Winter closed her eyes and allowed herself to just feel the wind on her face, the sands under her feet. It became strangely easy to do so since she gained the winter maiden’s powers, to just connect herself with the elements of the world.

Maybe she could take flight and lose herself among the clouds. Let the night wash away all the worries that would come with the morning. It was a childish thing to even consider, but it’s exactly the kind of thing Penny would want her to do with those powers. 

Oh, Penny…

Another life lost to her stubbornness.

Why couldn’t she just listen? Why did she let things go so far? 

Why did she–

There was a sound, metal ringing off in the distance. 

Had a fight broken out? Had someone invaded their camp? 

Instinctively Winter reached for swords… to find them gone. She must have left them in the tent, damn it! 

Her eyes glowed a pale blue, and a pair of ice swords formed in her hand - awkward imitations of her blades, but they’d have to do.

Now properly armed, she skulked around the many tents around her, searching for the origin of that sound, swords at the ready, and her senses searching for any threats.

What she did find was a little girl - her sister - awkwardly flailing with Winter’s sword, swinging wildly and with no technique.

Whitney had never been a fighter, had never shown interest in hunting or learning the family semblance. She had always put her focus on the company first and foremost. And yet here she was, practicing in the middle of the night, all by herself.

She would have asked what Whitney thought she was doing - stealing her weapon and sneaking off into the middle of the night - but there was a fire in Whitney’s eyes that she hadn’t seen before; so Winter stepped back and watched as her sister trained.

She must have realized her flailing was nowhere near an effective combat strategy, because she huffed and walked back to her starting position. 

She brushed her hair away from her face, wiped the sweat from her brow, and took up a fighting stance.

Then it hit Winter.

It was Weiss’s fighting stance. 

The sword was too big for her, and her base was too narrow, but it was still clearly Weiss’s. Like Winter could still see him holding Myrtenaster back when he was a kid, so unsure of himself, but determined to grow.

“Whitney,” she called, and the girl nearly jumped out of her skin.

Jacques’s upbringing immediately kicked in, and she composed herself in record time.

“Ah, sister,” Whitney greeted, trying to hide the sword behind her, “what brings you so far from your tent in the middle of the night?”

“Couldn’t sleep,” she answered truthfully, “and I take it you couldn’t either.”

“Yes… of course,” Whitney replied, “I just decided to go for a nice walk to clear my mind before bed.”

“I see,” she nodded, “and did that little walk happen to involve late night sword practice as well?”

“I-I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Whitney tried to deflect.

Winter simply tossed the ice blades aside and reached one hand towards her, “hand it over.”

Whitney opened her mouth to argue, then looked around to maybe find an escape route, then finally deflated and surrendered the sword back to its owner.

“What were you thinking?” she scolded, “sneaking around, stealing weapons, and then training all by yourself in the middle of the night? Do you know how poorly this could have gone?”

Whitney sighed, “I’m sorry, sister. I promise not to do this again.”

“Good,” Winter answered with a hard military nod, “now meet me back at my tent tomorrow morning so we can start some proper lessons.”

And just like that her sister perked up in attention, her mouth opened and closed several times over as she tried to figure out what to say, eventually settling for, “thank you, sister.”

Winter smiled at that, “don’t thank me yet. Now go get some sleep, you’ll need to be well rested for your training.”

~~~

Wooden swords clashed over the sands. 

Sweat dripped from Whitney’s brow as she continued to strike against her sister. Each blow met with a perfectly effortless parry, and each parry followed by a comment.

“Watch your footing.”

“Don’t telegraph so much.”

“Strike higher.”

She had to admit, this was starting to get frustrating. 

Sure, Whitney wasn’t an idiot. She didn’t expect to match the years of military training Winter had in just a few days. 

But after a whole week of this she was hoping to at least get a hit in!

After a dozen more strikes, Whitney was left breathless, and Winter looked just as composed as she ever did. Which only made this ordeal even more infuriating.

Worse still is that she looked almost satisfied. 

She raised a hand to command Whitney to stop - not like she had the energy to keep going anyways - and gave another one of her sharp nods.

“Good,” Winter informed her, “you’re making progress.”

Whitney huffed and panted, but still managed to get out a halfhearted, “thanks.”

Winter put her training sword aside, took off her gloves and announced, “I believe it’s time we moved to the next step of your training.”

“Oh, wonderful,” Whitney grumbled, “can it wait until I’m not a sweaty mess?”

“Don’t worry, this will require no physical effort on your part,” Winter assured her, “this time, we’ll train your aura.”

Oh!

So it was finally time to learn that old family secret.

The Schnee semblance.

Winter approached slowly and placed one hand on her shoulder and the other on her forehead. The white glow of her aura radiating from her hands and through Whitney’s body, reaching into her more and more until–

Something reached back.

That thing expanded through her body, like a wave of warmth, breaching the surface in a bright white glow. 

It surrounded her, enveloped and permeated every part of her body, and she felt… safe.

“With your aura unlocked, you have taken the first step on becoming a huntress and learning our family’s legacy,” Winter announced with pride.

The family legacy.

For Whitney that had always been the company. 

What did the semblance matter when it was the company that made the real difference in the world? When it was money that would keep her safe?

After the Fall of Atlas that felt like a different life. 

She was a huntress in training now, like her brother and sister, and that meant keeping alive the one part of her family’s legacy that had not been destroyed.

Whitney raised her hands before her, bringing them together, willing that force inside her to come to her finger tips. 

Her aura glowing a bright white once more as it gathered in front of her and… nothing happened.

She released a breath she hadn’t noticed she was holding, and grumbled, “well, that’s disappointing.”

“Our family’s semblance won’t respond to brute force,” Winter explained, extending her hand and calling upon a small glyph, “it’s the manifestation of our family’s ability to dream, and our will to make those dreams into reality. It lets us turn everything around us into tools for our goals. Even the grimm we fight. It was this semblance that allowed our family to colonize Solitas, that allowed our grandfather to found the SDC, and it’s what allows us to fight for a better future.”

The power to dream? 

That felt almost silly. Especially coming from her sister. 

Grandpa Nick? 

Sure, he was a dreamer, he envisioned this wonderful world he could bring about with the help of the SDC. 

But Winter? Whitney? Their mom? 

They weren’t dreamers. 

That word felt too childish, too hopeful for them.

“What do you dream of, dear sister?” she found herself asking.

That caught her by surprise. Winter looked pensive, unsure of what to do or say. The glyph in her palm disappeared as she turned aside to think.

“I’m… not sure,” she admitted, “I used to dream of a prosperous Atlas, with our family living safe and happy within it, but now I’m not sure that dream can ever be real.”

It should have been sad. To know that her sister had lost the one dream that had kept her going, but at the same time it was good to know that even someone like Winter could still dream and hope like that. 

It reminded Whitney of the human hiding behind all the uniforms and titles.

It also confirmed for her something she had started to suspect about her family.

“Weiss really was the only one of us to ever do any self reflection,” Whitney huffed.

It was about time she did some of that too.

~~~

As much as a throwaway comment as they felt in the moment, those words followed Winter around for the following days. 

Self reflection? Did she really need to do any of that? 

It felt wasteful to spend so much of her time thinking about herself. 

She was a maiden now, she had a kingdom to protect, and the power to do so.

What else mattered?

And yet, those words followed her constantly.

Weiss had been happy since he found out who he was. Happier than he’d ever been in their home. Happier than anyone in their family had been in a long time.

Even Whitney seemed to have changed and grown so much since her own journey of self discovery. 

To learn that she had gone out of her way to try to save as many of the Mantle refugees as she could, it had been both heartwarming and shocking.

The sister who once would do anything for their father’s praise, now standing defiantly in the face of authority.

To think even Whitney chose rebellion before she did.

No.

No, it didn’t matter. 

Focus on protecting people. Focus on using her powers for good.

Winter couldn’t undo the harm she’d done, but maybe if she protected everyone, then she could at least prevent more tragedies from happening. 

Keep families from being torn apart.

She sighed and buried her face in her hands. She’d been flying high across the sky, the vacuan desert below, and the shattered moon high above. It was a vain attempt to clear her thoughts, when all it did was leave her alone with them.

One hand extended forward and on it there appeared a glyph, barely bigger than the palm of her hand.

They’d been getting smaller since they arrived in Vacuo, forcing her to rely more and more on her maiden powers. She worried soon the family’s semblance would be lost to her for good.

A maiden more than a Schnee.

This wasn’t working. 

She needed to do something. 

Anything. 

As long as she didn’t have to hear these accursed thoughts any longer. So she made the decision to land in front of someone who would never allow her to self torture like some brooding fool.

“Hey there, Ice Queen,” May Marigold greeted from the entrance to her tent as Winter’s feet gently touched the ground in front of her. 

She was wearing a simple nightshirt with little cartoony sheep on it. Her long hair was hanging loose behind her, and she looked downright sleep deprived. But she made time for Winter all the same.

“Hey,” she greeted back, unsure of what else to say.

“So what got you floating around this late at night?” May asked, a half smirk on her face.

Winter sighed, deflating from the all powerful Maiden to the overworked soldier that May was much more familiar with. “I just– I needed to get my mind away from things. I could… use some distraction.”

“You know most girls usually buy me dinner before asking for that,” she replied, cocking an eyebrow.

“May,” came Winter’s severe tone as she crossed her arms.

“Alright, alright, come on in,” May chuckled, waving for her to follow her into the tent, “now what am I distracting you from?”

Of course she wouldn’t just let Winter be.

She glared at her, eyes narrowed, a look that had made many cadets tremble in their boots. But May was no cadet, and she knew Winter too well to fall for her tricks. 

She just met her gaze and quirked an eyebrow in amusement.

Winter caved in first.

“My glyphs are still shrinking,” she admitted, taking her usual seat at the foot of May’s bed.

“Right,” May nodded sitting next to her, “I told you beating your head over this isn’t gonna work. Maybe listen to what you told your sister, and don’t try to brute force it.”

She tilted her head at that, “how do you know what I told her?”

“She’s a baby trans, and I’m the big mama trans,” she explained with a shrug, “I check in on her every once in a while.”

Winter pinched the bridge of her nose, “what else did she tell you?”

“Besides that you’re a hardass who could really do with reassuring her more after sparring?” she threw those words out casually.

“I’ll… keep that in mind.”

“That maybe you need to figure yourself out a little instead of hiding behind your duties as a big sister, and a maiden, and whatever else you got going on in there,” she said, poking Winter’s forehead.

Winter shook her head away, “self reflection is a luxury I don’t have time for.”

“Self reflection is a necessity you can’t keep delaying,” May argued back, “you’re the one who said that whole thing about dreams before, so actually listen to yourself then.”

“Fine!” Winter groaned and leaned back onto the bed.

She covered her face in her hands, took a few deep breaths, then took them away. May had laid down next to her too, both of them now staring at the tent’s ceiling.

“...last time I tried to blindly follow a dream, I just ended up getting everyone hurt,” Winter began, her voice heavier than it had been, “I thought I was fighting for a prosperous kingdom and a safe family, but all that did was get Atlas destroyed and Weiss…”

May took Winter’s hand in hers and gave it a little squeeze.

“You know, I envied Weiss back then,” she admitted, “he got to be himself, to find a family that loved him, and live a dream that was all his. He still had a long way to go, but I was so sure he’d be the best huntsman our family had ever seen… if he had the chance.”

“Then be like him,” May said, turning in bed to face her, “you already have a family that loves you, and people who support you. Now you just need to find out who you want to be, and what kinds of dreams that Winter would have.”

Winter turned to face her, blue eyes meeting gold. 

Who did she want to be? 

It seemed so much easier to figure out who she didn’t want to be. Not like her mother, not like her father, and most certainly not like Ironwood. 

Itdid very little to narrow down her options…

Who was Winter Schnee?

“And I mean,” May added, with a smile on her face that let Winter know that nothing good would come of it, “if you envy Weiss in other ways, I can ask Joanna to lend you a binder.”

There it was.

Winter sat back up with a loud exasperated huff, “I told you, I don’t identify as a–,”  then the next part hit her and she paused, “wait! Joanna wears a binder?”

“Yeah,” May answered, sitting up after her, “you don’t have to identify as a man to wear one. You can just do stuff because it helps you feel more comfortable with your body. Wild isn’t it?”

That was an option? 

Wait…

Now hold on, why did she get so excited over that being an option? 

No, don’t let May know that, she’s gonna make fun of her over “cracking her egg” or something silly like that.

“I see,” was all Winter had to say.

“Should I try to hook you up on a packer too?” May offered.

Okay, maybe she really did need some self reflecting.

~~~

Dreams. Dreams. Dreams.

What did Whitney dream of?

She dreamed of being a girl, a dream she’d conquered quite handedly if she might say so herself. But that didn’t feel like the kind of dream Winter was talking about.

Did she dream of inheriting the company? 

She used to - and maybe she still does - but that felt secondary now. There was still enough of the SDC around that just dropping the headquarters from the sky isn’t gonna lead to a collapse. The title of heiress was still hers, and if she so desired Jacques’s legacy was hers for the taking.

But Jaques’s legacy wasn’t the one she wanted to live up to.

Did she dream of becoming a huntress? 

Oh absolutely not. 

Learning to fight was a necessity, not a choice. She would keep the flames of Weiss’s spirit alive, and fight to protect the world he died for, but she never felt the calling for heroism the way Weiss did.

Not to say she didn’t like doing good. 

Saving - or at least trying to save - all those people back in Mantle filled her with a unique kind of pride, and if she could continue to help others like that she would. Just not, you know, charging in with a sword in hand or anything.

Texting May also didn’t help that much. As helpful as she was when it came to matters of gender and expression, the Schnee semblance was firmly outside her area of expertise.

Which left her with only one choice. A Schnee who had never been a huntress, never taken the company, and still held her semblance.

It was time to talk to her mom.

She found Willow sitting on her bed, in their shared tent, reading some romance book she managed to get her hands on.

Sitting around and reading had been most of what she had done since arriving in Vacuo. It was her own way of dealing with the loss of her home, and her son, all in one swift blow. It was a sad state, but sadder still was the fact that this was an improvement compared to before. 

At the very least she wasn’t caught in a constant drunken stupor anymore.

“Hey, mom,” Whitney called, making her presence known.

Willow perked up, her eyes looking up from her book to meet Whitney’s, “oh, sweetie, do you need something?”

She was also trying to be a better mom. A fact Whitney had not fully gotten used to.

“I needed some help actually,” she admitted, walking up to her mother, “it’s about Winter’s training.”

Willow set her book aside, and turned to face her properly, “I don’t know how much I can help you with that, dear. I’ve never been much of a fighter, and my old hunting rifle…” there was a pause and a frown, “...well, it went away with the house.”

“No, no, it’s about our semblance,” she explained, “she gave this entire speech about dreams and the family legacy and I just–” she sighed, “don’t know what to do with all this.”

Her mother smiled at that and said, “I understand how you feel. Back when your grandpa told me all of that I was so nervous that I would never have a dream worthy of the Schnee semblance.”

She leaned closer and continued “do you wanna know a little secret? It’s never about how big your dream is, it’s about how much you care about it.”

Oh.

“So my dream could be anything?” Whitney asked, somewhat confused.

“As long as it matters to you,” she assured her, “your aura comes from your heart. As long as your heart is in it, it will answer you.”

“Ugh, this is starting to sound like something out of a fairy tale,” Whitney complained, “but I think I get it.”

Something that she could put her heart into. 

Yeah, that sounded a lot easier.

“Hey, mom,” she added, still finding that word a little weird to say out loud, “if it’s okay to ask. What was your dream?”

Willow cupped her daughter’s face and looked into her eyes.

“To have a family I could love and care for.”

~~~

Wooden swords clashed over the sands. 

Sweat dripped from Whitney’s brow as she continued to strike against her sister. Each blow met with a perfect parry. 

Though this time Winter found herself too stuck in her own head to be able to comment on her sister’s progress.

For what it was worth Whitney had grown remarkably as a fighter in such a small span of time. 

She was proud of her - genuinely so - but there were too many thoughts swirling in her mind, and even that beaming pride was lost in the maelstrom.

“That’s enough,” Winter declared. 

Her sister had nothing to gain from this if Winter’s head wasn’t in it.

Whitney unceremoniously dropped down on her knees, half sitting on the sand.

“Any commentary, sister?” she panted.

Right, she was expected to offer feedback. “You’re making good progress.”

“Wonderful,” Whitney grumbled, “so shall we go about my aura training?”

Should they? When Winter herself had all but lost mastery over her semblance, what right did she have to teach anyone how to use theirs?

That talk with May had given her a path towards perhaps regaining that part of herself, but that was a path she had barely begun to walk, and not one she could guide anyone through.

“Perhaps some other time,” she deflected, turning to put her sword away, “I gave you a lot to think about. You should take your time with it.”

“Actually,” Whitney called, “I wanted to talk to you about that.”

That… was a surprise.

She turned to face her younger sister, who now played with the edge of her skirt.

“I don’t want to be a huntress,” Whitney admitted, “I’m not like you or Weiss. I’m not made for fighting.”

“Understandable,” Winter nodded, trying not to seem disappointed, “then we can stop with the physical training.”

“I didn’t mean I’m not going to fight, especially after everything that happened,” Whitney countered, “but that’s not what I want to do with my life.”

A small hint of a smile formed in Winter’s lips. 

That was very noble of her little sister.

“What I really want,” she continued, “is for our family to have a home again. I don’t think any of us ever felt at home in the manor, so that’s what I want. I want to give us a place that feels like home.”

Whitney straightened her posture, and there was a new determination in her eyes.

“And if that means mobilizing every last bit of SDC resources to dig Atlas out of the ditch it landed in, then so be it!” she declared, “because we deserve a place to call home!”

That hint turned into a full blown smile. 

Winter walked up to her and dropped on her knees so they could look eye to eye.

“Uh, I guess… that’s my dream,” Whitney added, all her previous confidence melting away in the silence.

But Winter wasn’t about to let that flame die. She took Whitney’s hands and brought them up in front of her face.

So she could see the small glyph that had formed between.

“I think it’s a beautiful dream.”

#rwby #fanfiction #whitley schnee #whitney schnee #winter schnee #willow shcnee #may marigold #hellbore

[rosenongrata]

Ancient Dreams in a Modern Land

⋯ 𓆩♡𓆪 Summary. Two sides of the same coin—the divine man and the accursed lady will one day intertwine.

⋯ 𓆩♡𓆪 A/N. so i'm finally getting around to posting this on tumblr. wahoo! anyway, this is the millionth rewrite of my initial self-insert fic that is now deleted. p.s. the fic title is from a song of MARINA's that goes by the same name!

⋯ 𓆩♡𓆪 AO3 Link.

⋯ 𓆩♡𓆪 Chapter W.C. 776.

⋯ 𓆩♡𓆪 CW. the abyss order are blatant bastards, no shame fr. eventual romance. blood & injury & violence. trauma/mental illness exploration. slow burn. OC-CENTRIC, OC-INSERT. OC X CANON.

Chapter 1 — I'll Be Gone.

A tall woman clad in dark shades of red and black passes through the cold and unwelcoming hallways of the Abyss. She's one of the few who has retained her human form and even most of her personality. The Abyss—the Void Realm—does indeed have a dark habit of warping human personalities beyond recognition.

Meanwhile, most in the Abyss have lost their true selves to the never ending darkness. Their minds vengeful as their bodies became vehicles for destruction. And the darkness only spurs them on. To her, this is all more than sickening, and she can only imagine one other person sharing that sentiment—

"Is the plague prepared?"

A sudden voice derails her train of thought, and she's quick to back away from the doorway she had full intention of passing. She leans her back against the wall, falling into a state of silence and stillness.

"Nearly!"

She can only assume the worst about this plague. Choking back a scoff, she files this specific location into her mind for later, she then makes a quick departure.

(I need to make a cure for this plague as quickly as I can,) She thinks; adjusting her black gloves. A nervous habit. (Or else they’ll send this plague to Teyvat in order to cause chaos… And who knows what it’s truly capable of.)

That night, she mixes the cure with the scarce ingredients she could hunt down. It takes two days to find everything as the Abyss is as barren as Khaenri'ah. Sure, there are plenty of vast collections of ingredients, but it's often stored behind lock and key. The Abyss Order never trusted her too much, anyway.

She suffers from her own "plights and struggles"—one's that often interfered with the Order's plans. And the Void Realm itself could never quite tear her down into the little pieces it so desires. She has her reasons for resisting its effects, but it's a deep-seated secret in her heart—one she buried six feet under a long time ago.

Eyes glazing over with so many emotions—she stumbles through the halls in her sleep-deprived state. She worked tirelessly for this very moment. This moment to give Teyvat a bit longer to live in prosperity.

Arriving in the room that hosts the plague vial—she's tearful, fatigued, nauseated; ready to sob and break down at any moment. She pushes herself to persevere through all that stands in her way, all for a place she's never been too familiar with. When she finds the bedeviled vial, she pops it open and shifts her other hand to drip her own concoction in—

"Hauteclaire!" A Herald howls behind her—she can hear the quick summoning of water blades. "What do you think you're doing?!" He takes one step closer, his heavy steps thundering through the room.

"I was checking the vial to ensure its…effectiveness." Hauteclaire—the woman of a bygone time—lies through her teeth. And with that said, she quickly pockets her cure, yet it's spotted anyway.

"You…You are betraying us once more. We have been too lenient with you!" He growls, charging at her with his blades drawn and ready to cut her down.

"Ah, so you knew of my escapades all along—" She retorts, blocking his blade with her own steel one, "—this place is more than despicable, more than disgusting. I've had enough of the Prince and everyone else!" She spits, pushing him back and away from her.

She glances at her sword, a bitter and painful memory filling her mind—

The alchemist's friends' thin lips curve into a mischievous smile, the knowing glint in his shimmering cerulean eyes says it all,

"I know you hate gifts, but…I'd like you to take this. I had it specially made for you. Happy birthday, Claire."

It's a sword of gleaming silver blue, the very one she wields now in the present. And the very one she's left behind—embedded into the Herald's thorax before storming out of this realm once and for all.

“I’m sorry.”

———

As she rushes out of the Abyss, the world becomes hazy and foggy to a disorienting degree. Her sleep-deprived state is now catching up to her more than ever before. Even as she stumbles and trips over her own feet, she makes it out of the Abyss without ever looking back.

She finally makes it into a thick forest prior to collapsing onto her knees, and then falling face down. Thoroughly exhausted, she wheezes into the chilly air—leaving behind a breathy fog. Her hands ball into fists, clutching the freezing yet soft snow beneath her.

Unable to manage her starvation, her fatigue, and her numb heart—she descends into an uncomfortable stupor.

#original character #oc #genshin impact #fic: ancient dreams in a modern land #mine #oc/canon #canon x oc #oc x canon #zhongli x oc #zhongli x original character #oc: hauteclaire #ship: zhongclaire