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#leave the past and. strive for your future
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"Time & the Trickster"
A Loki/Doctor Who crossover
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Chapter 11: London
While you cling to the slightest hope that you and Loki have a future together, the end of time becomes increasing imminent as you finally reach England and make a final dash to The Doctor.
CHAPTER WARNING (18+): smut-adjacency toward the end of the first block of text (mentions of fingering, grinding, erections, etc.)
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MASTERLIST
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Margaret gave you a large basket of food to take with you, along with three large bottles of red wine. Once she saw you down to the docks, you took advantage of the last few hours of greenish daylight to navigate around the rocky waters that had stranded you in the first place, finally making your way out to the open, safe ocean by dusk. 
Shane and Carrie remained at the helm for the evening. You, Loki, and Joey all sat on the bed down below, a bottle of wine for each of you. Under the dim light from the swinging bulb, you spent half of the night discussing possible ways to rescue Loki from his fate. 
“I will die on the hill that your blonde little other half needs to pay the piper,” you grunted bitterly, sipping at your nearly-empty bottle. The wine was sloshing about in your skull, but the pleasant airheadedness didn’t completely obscure your senses yet. It just made your inhibitions subside. You nuzzled yourself under Loki’s arm, as close to being at peace as you were going to be, for now. 
He rubbed your shoulder with the hand he’d had draped over it. “I know you feel that way. Please understand that it’s more complicated than that.”
“No,” you sighed with a yawn, “I don’t think it is.” 
Joey nodded. “I gotta go with her on this one. We need to get her to go to your place. It’s our best move, and it’s frankly the right one.” 
“You may think you know her from what you’ve seen in the show,” Loki tried to explain, “but one thing they didn’t emphasize enough was just how lethal Sylvie is. Self-preservation is her biggest priority, and anyone who stands in the way of what she is after will die.” 
“If she’s so single-minded, why not trick her?” you suggested. “It’s easy to trip up someone when they’re so obsessed with something else.”
“Because she’s a Loki,” Loki reminded you. “Her intelligence matches mine, she could probably preempt my every play.”
You finished off the bottle in your hands and reached over to place it on the bedside table before rolling back under Loki’s arm. “She’s not quite the same as you,” you added. “Is there a way we can convince her that she will be seen as a hero if she does it?”
Loki shook his head. “She doesn’t want that, remember?”
“Oh right, MacSylvie wants to get back to the deep fryers,” Joey scoffed. It was still odd to you that someone of her supposed power would strive for a life where she would spend her days soaking up cholesterol through osmosis and go home to reruns of Family Guy every night. “Girl must be nuts. I think I’d prefer being alone at the end of time.”
“Nothing will give her more time to be alone with her inner monologue than the throne of timelines,” you said, the wine still catching up to you. Loki’s touch was suddenly making you sensitive. You wished Joey would leave. 
“So,” Loki took a deep breath, going over everything you’d been discussing for the past several hours, “It’s possible my stone will gain some of its powers back once it’s within proximity to The Doctor’s time ship. This means that if we can power up his ship. he can take us back to the TVA, we get her to make her move in my place, and--”
“--what about lying?” you interjected. “We make it look like it wouldn’t work if it were you! Then she’ll have no choice.”
Joey smiled. “I thought you were supposed to be good at that, Lokes!” 
Loki shrugged. “I still don't know if she’ll buy it. I have ventured about with her, she is clever.”
“Sometimes, when it’s down to the wire, choices have to be made in the moment,” you said. “She’s rash, quick, and reactionary. It could work, especially the more things collapse around us.”
“I think this timeline is behind the TVA,” added Loki. “Everything was already reaching a critical point when I threw the stone, and when I landed here, things hadn’t yet begun to fall apart.” 
“So, we pretend to kill you in front of Sylvie when we get The Doctor to give us a lift to the TVA,” Joey mused. “You do tend to fake-die a lot, you know. No reason the rest of South Park won’t buy it if Kenny dies again.”
Loki knitted his eyebrow in confusion. “Let’s do it,” you said. “What does she know about my world?”
Loki thought for a moment. “There’s no reason to think she’d know anything more than I did when I first arrived.”
“Then she won’t know how a sonic screwdriver works,” you suggested. “Let’s get The Doctor to help us fake her out when we get to the TVA. I bet he’s the type to go along, right Joe? You’d know.”
“We can regroup with The Doctor and tell him everything,” said Joey. “But I think we’ve got this. Sis?”
You smiled. “Okay. Loki?”
Loki twisted his lip. He was about to betray Sylvie the moment he gave his word. Something about this felt wrong to him. But then again, something about her slipping off into a happily ever after while he took her sins upon himself also felt wrong. Loki had to be honest with himself, the prospect of being allowed to continue living, perhaps going off with Mobius on more adventures…it was starting to feel like a great prize at the end of the most dangerous game he’d ever played. 
“Okay,” he consented. “We can fake one of you killing me. Then I’ll hide until Sylvie reaches the throne.” 
You felt warm and drunk, smiling with deep satisfaction at the confirmation of Loki choosing you over her. A part of you had been worried that the connection between them had been too deep. 
“Well, in that case,” Joey said, standing up and heading over to the bunk he’d taken during the first half of the trip, “I’m getting a few hours before taking over and letting the others sleep.”
“Sleep well, Joey,” said Loki. 
“G’night, bro,” you yawned again. 
Once Joey pulled the curtain around his bunk, you took off your jeans and crawled under the bedsheets in your t-shirt and underwear. Loki unbuttoned his shirt and let his old, dirty slacks fall to his ankles before crawling in beside you. You rolled onto your side away from him, which he responded to by tucking his chest against your back, spooning around you, and wrapping his long arms around your waist. He felt so good. For a frost giant, it was a bit odd to you that his body heat warmed you faster than a heated blanket. Not that you complained. 
You smiled and moaned as you felt the erection dig into the small of your back, just above your ass. Loki was rhythmically, slowly grinding against you. 
“Someone’s being a bit presumptuous,” you whispered sarcastically. “You open your legs for the God of Mischief one time…”
“You want me to stop?” Loki asked with sincerity.
“I want you to put your hand here,” you answered, taking his right hand and moving it under the hem of your shirt, letting his fingers find your puckered nipple. You allowed him to play with you in lusty silence, your pants syncopating off one another as you both began to rock your hips back and forth. You were tempted to guide his hand between your legs to let him fiddle with your clit, but you weren’t sure if you could control the moans of pleasure he could draw from you by doing that, and Joey was still only about fifteen feet away. 
“You know, I don’t think Disney would appreciate you flaunting this more sexual side of yourself, Sir,” you giggled.
“Which shows how much they know. I’ve had many carnal exploits in my time.”
You took a moment to consider whether or not you wanted to ask the question that had been burned into your mind for a while now. 
“Loki? Did you love her?”
A pause. “Sylvie?”
“Yeah.”
Loki took your breast fully into his hand, and he squeezed it twice before settling his palm there. His large, muscular hands were firm with you. 
“No,” he began, but before you could express any relief, he amended his statement, “Not in the way you fear. Don’t worry, dove. But, I suppose my heart went out to her, with her violent past.”
“You kissed her in the show. Did you really?”
“Yes,” he sighed woefully. “I wouldn’t read too far into it. Heat of the moment, you know. In the midst of battle, you can’t tell the difference between adrenaline and--”
“--I think I understand,” you replied, not as upset as you thought you would be. “Do you think you’ll be able to stand up to her when the time comes? I can see where it might be a lot to ask.”
“Yes,” he replied. “Maybe I should look at it as finally closing the door on one part of my personality forever, ready to move on from things like youthful revenge and angry adventures.”
“That sounds like no fun,” you joked. 
He chuckled and nipped on your earlobe. Loki’s finger slipped up and over your chest to where your tarot pendant hung. He began carelessly fiddling with it. Between the wine, the gentle rocking of the boat, and Loki’s tender touch, you felt yourself beginning to drift off. About three minutes of silence went by, and you began to hear the low sound of Loki’s voice, slowly humming a lullaby as he continued to lightly pet you.
“What song is that?” you asked quietly. 
“An old Asgardian lullaby,” Loki answered, “In places where seidr functions, it contains magic within the melody that induces a light, peaceful sleep.”
His delightful melody was the final pillow on your bed, and you used the last of your energy to pose one final thought: “Maybe…after you’ve been back a while and everything has calmed down…you could come looking for me.” 
“I--Y/N--”
“--we’ve both agreed to re-write the story,” you interrupted his attempt to hesitate. “We might have a chance at a happy ending for ourselves. You could use that stone to find your way back to me someday, don't you think?”
Loki allowed himself one more pleasurable thrust against your back even as you slipped into comfortable unconsciousness. He let his finger trace a few more inches over your cheek before tightening his embrace around your waist, holding you closer to him as if you were his teddy bear. 
“Maybe I could,” Loki said with a smile no one could see, in a whisper no one could hear as he too slipped away. “I think…maybe we could.”
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You were startled awake by Shane, who threw a jacket at Joey and shouted, “Everyone! You have to get up and see this!”
You were jerked from the most amazing dream of your life, still wrapped in Loki’s arms. He’d wrapped a leg over your hip and was draped over you in a highly suggestive position. Luckily, Shane didn’t seem to care. He shook himself awake with an irritable grunt. “What the hell?”
“Jesus, Shane, it’s like 8am, we’ve only been asleep for four hours!” Joey complained. 
Shane ignored your bitching, insisting you all meet on deck in five minutes. 
You could tell through the porthole that the sky was still green, and only brighter than it had been the day before. All three of you rushed to dress, and you barely stumbled onto the deck realizing that you still felt a little drunk from the wine you'd finished off only a few hours ago. 
“Ah!” Loki winced, falling against the railing on the stairs as you made your way tipside. You were right behind him, and positioned yourself to catch him at a moment’s notice.
“Loki? Are you okay?” you shouted, afraid for him. 
“I feel ill,” he said quickly. “Something feels incredibly wrong.”
You helped Loki onto the deck and sat him down in an Adirondack chair. He looked pale and dizzy. “I’ll get you some wat--”
You cut yourself off as you saw the large green landmass passing by on your left. “Oh, is that the far side of Iceland?”
Shane shook his head, confused. “No, that’s not. According to our equipment…that’s the southern coast of Ireland.”
“That’s impossible! We’ve been at sea for twelve hours,” you answered. “We shouldn’t even be past--”
“--we know!” Shane shouted in his panic. 
Loki was beginning to hyperventilate, as if he’d run a mile before taking a seat. “It’s time,” he said. “We’ve got no time. Reality is bending and warping the planet now!” 
“People could die, there could be massive earthquakes!” you gasped. 
“If someone doesn’t save the timelines within the next twenty-four to thirty hours, everything is lost,” Loki predicted, using his intuition to make his guess.
“That soon?” you asked, almost yelling. 
Loki nodded and grabbed your face, kissing you deeply. “I’m afraid so. We’re in the reality farthest from the TVA and the Citadel, and we’re already seeing matter fold in on itself!”
“We could make landfall in Southampton as soon as lunchtime,” shouted Carrie from the helm. “What the fuck?”
“It's for the best,” Loki groaned. “This must be why I feel sick.”
You looked at Joey with concern. He bit his lip, looking around nervously. “This is getting too weird, even for me, Sis!” 
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When you set sail weeks ago, you’d expressed some fear about making berth in Southampton when one of your companions had no ID papers. However, it was evident before you even docked that it wouldn’t have mattered, because no one around you would have bothered to notice. Everyone was running about, panic heightened at the changing planet, the green summer sky, and the other ways in which reality was shifting. You wouldn’t have considered it rioting, but people were definitely scrambling at a moderate level..
Your heart was humming as you grabbed Loki’s hand, disembarking without letting go of him. He laced his fingers in between yours, and you felt immediately safer. The moment Loki’s foot touched soil, his pocket illuminated to a bright green that even his leather jacket tried about his hips couldn’t fully conceal. 
“Norns, I can feel it through the material!” he whispered to you. 
Carrie shook your hand as the three of you began to discuss finding your way to London. “Shane’s staying with the boat,” she said, “But whoever the hell you are: good luck, and don’t ever ask us to do this again.” 
As she left you there on the pier, Joey took out his cracked phone. “If we get a car, we can make it in about two hours.”
“Okay,” you said with sarcastic cheer, “Let’s just walk into the Jolly Ol’ U-Haul with our wallets full of pounds and totally-British driver’s licenses!” 
“Already, genius, what do you suggest we do?” Joey sneered irritably. 
“I don’t know…get a bus?”
“Where and how?” asked Joey. 
You grunted, annoyed. “Well, where and how are we going to rent a car in England? As if you’d even know how to drive one!” 
Loki was looking back and forth between you as if you were volleying at a tennis match instead of bickering back and forth. You glanced at him and instantly knew you were going to los the argument. 
“Fine, Loki, we’ll steal a fucking car,” you rolled your eyes, your reaction dripping with annoyance. 
He smiled and nodded. “You know me, Y/N.”
So you committed grand theft auto for the first (and only) time.. It was incredibly simple, as no one gave a rat’s ass about anything other than the sky, the shifting continents, and whatever that meant would come next. 
It took you a lot longer to drive into London than you expected. It was because your brother was driving like a moron all over the wrong side of the road, not used to the British car’s inverted dashboard and wheel. He kept stopping, starting, turning into the wrong lanes, and misreading speed limit signs. It was like riding in the Cash Cab if the host were on cocaine. 
“You know,” Loki said, his face turning almost as green as the stone in his pocket, “I don’t believe I was in any more danger hanging off of the Bifrost than I am right now!”
As the skyline of London first appeared over the horizon, you sighed. “So, let’s try and get over to Regent’s Park. That’s where The Doctor was allegedly last sighted.”
“How will we know he’s there? What if he isn’t?” asked Joey. “This is one of the biggest cities in the world! We could spend our whole lives here and never find him!”
“This will certainly tell us,” Loki pulled the time stone out of his pocket. It was now wrapped in heat-resistant cloth, pulsing so brightly it could have illuminated a dark room by itself. “I get the feeling that if it doesn’t outright explode upon our entering range, it will still go completely mad.”
Getting anywhere within London’s city limits was next to impossible. Traffic was backed up, drivers were irritable, pedestrians were distracted. The environment was just this side of chaotic. There was something about the tension that still hung in the air that told you the worst was yet to come if this wasn’t solved immediately. 
Eventually, you spotted another vehicle that didn’t belong in this world: a 1980’s Delorean fitted with an odd white device on the top, conspicuously labeled “Mr. Fusion.”
“Oh shit, Joey, can you see that?” you pointed urgently. “It must be the Time Traveler’s Convention this weekend.”
“That ain’t good,” he replied. “The more familiar faces we see--”
“--we need to get to the park,” Loki interjected. “Now.”
“We’re half a mile away,” Joey mentioned, tapping the car’s built-in GPS. “You can run and be there in a few minutes.”
“What about you?” you asked, panic bubbling in your brain. 
“I’ll find a fire zone to park in or something, you and Loki just GO!” Joey insisted, waving his arms as if to dismiss you.
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“It’s WORKING!” The Doctor yelled in excitement. The TARDIS was all but fully functional, the lights now working at full capacity (if not with a green tint). “Damn, the only thing still not connecting is the time vortex itself.”
“The what?” asked Sylvie, on high alert and frequently looking toward the door. 
“The time vortex. It’s what moves the TARDIS through time. She’s still not finding it…it’s like having a car without gas in it, or a computer router without internet, Sylvie. But we’re getting close!” The Doctor began circling the console like an Olympic sprinter. 
“Does that mean Loki’s--”
“Oh, stop thinking about Loki for five minutes, Sylvie, and hold this a moment!” he said as he held out a frayed wire, sparks flying from the end. Sylvie didn’t move toward it. 
The Doctor stopped, looking at Sylvie with renewed interest. 
“What?” Sylvie asked, looking innocent. 
The Doctor’s eyes narrowed with a slightest hint of suspicion. “You look anxious.”
She shrugged, putting her hand in her pocket, toying with the stone she kept there. “World’s ending, I’m out of my timeline. Why shouldn’t I be anxious?”
He decided not to pursue the matter further. There were more important things to worry about, like getting the TARDIS off of this planet before it collapsed entirely. 
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Hand-in-hand, you and Loki darted across the London streets at breakneck speed, able to weave in and out of the other people on the streets without any of them identifying Loki. 
You always hated running. Your chest felt as if it was on fire. Your breaths were shallow and fast, and they were drying out the back of your throat. You felt a slight pull on your arm. Of course the long-legged Asgardian would have a naturally quicker pace! 
“Where the hell did he say it was?” you gasped. Joey had given you vague directions based on what the car’s GPS had told him, but in the heated urgency of the moment, most of his instructions went in one ear and out the other.
“Is that it?” Loki said, stopping short to point at a cluster of trees peeking out from an alleyway that led to the next street over. 
“YES!” you shouted, grabbing his hand again and yanking him along. 
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Sylvie wasn’t quite sure why her hair was standing on end. She refused to have her back to the door. 
He’s here!
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“He’s there!” you shouted, pointing across the green with Loki still attached to your hand. 
“Ow! Norns!” Loki swore, even the heat-resistant handkerchief was beginning to smolder in his pocket. 
You grinned as you caught your breath. “That must be it!”
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“This must be it!” The Doctor said, his voice wavering just a little. He was so wrapped up in the functioning parts of his ship that he didn’t notice Sylvie ducking under the stairs to hide. 
 “I feel it, Sylvie! Finally, we’re going to get out of here! Are you ready?”
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“Are you ready?” Loki asked. 
You were standing at the threshold of one of the most iconic structures in pop culture. You could tell from the bright flashing green lights through the window that something was going down inside. 
You looked up at him with a worried smile, your chest still heaving from the sudden, intense exercise. He responded by kissing you one more time. If this was going to be your last kiss with Loki, you wanted t drink every flavor from his lips and savor his taste while you could. 
Sadly, he pulled away before you could even appreciate the significance, and he raised a fist to the door. “Shall we?”
You nodded and also raised a fist. “Together?”
“Always together.” 
You both knocked three times in sync. The flashing green light became steady within. After a pause, both of you repeated your tandem knock. 
After another pause, the doors opened. 
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wordsbymae · 2 days
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WarTrophy! Reader x Warlord
With a post-apocalyptic twist. I was gonna do the usual medieval style thing for the warlord, but I got inspired by Mad Max: Thunder Dome (An amazing movie), to do post apocalyptic sorta thing. Any way hope you enjoy!
TW: Gn!reader, Verbal and somewhat physical SA, grubby and sleezy male characters. Reader is from a well looked after community, therefore when the Warlord and his raiders come to town, chaos erupts. Violence, murder, battle and raiding, reader given fem pet names but no gender described. In my mind this is canonically set in Australia, because I am Australian and also mad max is set in Australia and also post-apocalyptic fiction just makes sense when set in Australia. Also reader has nickname blue
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They came in the night. No warning, no threat along the horizon. Just pure violence coming to reek havoc in the moonless night. You were awoken to the sounds of screaming, cries burning at your ears. Jumping to your feet you rushed to your window, over looking the community of survivors and refuges. Death was everywhere. The town was alight with flames, the warning siren howling over the sound of shrieks and bellows of fear. You stood in shock and incomprehension for a moment, the shacks, houses and huts were being ransacked by men dressed in camouflaged uniforms. Men and women who tried to defend their homes were being cut down where they stood, or dragged away by their hair. Children were left to fend for themselves, some crying amongst the flames, watching their parents being slaughtered. Loud banging broke you from the spell you were under, someone was trying to break down your door.
"Open up!" A man yelled, continuing to try to kick the scrap metal that made your door. It wouldn't take long, it was barely put together. A split second decision was made in your mind. You couldn't stay where you were, you couldn't even stop to make a plan, or grab anything of use. You had to run, and quickly. Still in your sleepwear, you raced through your house, opening your back down with a grunt, just as your front door was slammed open. You rushed into the back alley, stunned by the destruction laid waste upon your town. You turned your back on your friends, family, community and rushed into the darkness of the buildings, leaving your town to burn.
This town was never truly meant to be a town. Before the Collapse it had been a nothing more than a water treatment plant. In the days and weeks after the collapse, people began flocking to its promise of water. Somehow ever after the loss of electricity, the plant still held thousands of litres of water, making it a refuge for all those who survived the end of the world.
You had been one of the very first to arrive, you had been fortunate to arrive with your parents and a few members of your extended family. You and your family practically built this town, saved this community. There was a reason why people knew who you were, why they moved out of the way as you walked past. It was your family this town was named after, your blood that raised it from ash.
And yet here you were, hiding in the shadows. Running for your life. Granted, there wasn't much you could do. The town lived in peace for so long that only the town militia were tasked with defence. Over the years, bullets, and gunpowder, became in short supply, leaving the hunks of metal once called guns useless. Most were melted down to make melee weapons, are fashioned into more primitive form of muskets. In many ways your town turned back into the past to strive for a better future. Most things were run on steam or water powered. Limited supply of gunpowder was made using items traded with other surviving communities. People turned back to the ways of their fore parents, hunting and farming. Life was good. Until it wasn't.
You came to a sudden halt, quickly hiding behind wooden boxes against the wall. The masked, camouflaged men ran past, yelling orders to one another. You grimaced as you saw a selective few were armed with guns. Pre-collapse guns. Either they were just for show, or someone very smart and determined figured out how to make them work in a time such as these. Most, however, had musket-like weapons and machetes and knives. At least you knew if it came down to it, there was a chance that you just had to be quicker than your assailant rather than having to dodge a bullet to survive.
After they run past, you quickened towards the wooden wall that encircled your town. In some places it was reinforced with steel and rock, but it would take decades to finally make a proper defensive structure. As the child of the founding family, you knew exactly what you were looking for. Once, when the wall was still being erected, and nothing but a metal fence separated you and the raiders of the new world, you had found a hole in the fence. Big enough that you and your childhood friend had been able to sneak out of town into the great unknown. Even when they began to reinforce it with wood and steel, you made sure the hole was still uncoverable.
You landed on your knees in front of where you remembered the hole to be. Footsteps were hurrying towards you. Raiders, friends or terrified civilians, you did not know. You focused purely on pushing the scrap of metal from covering the hole, leaning down, you pushed with all your might the large rock you had shimmed into place last time you had snuck out. It had been years since you had down so, it was just before Red had left, there was no need to sneak out anymore if he wasn't there to follow. You crawled through the hole, end in sight. The hole feeling much smaller than it did as a child. You knew your family would make it out. They would have to, right? So would friends and comrades. They were smart. Like you. They knew when to abandon ship.
If there had been a warning then of course you would have stayed, till the very end. Your task for the community was Peacemaker, a diplomate of this new crazed world. You were quite good at it too. Negotiation and diplomacy your strongest skills. If they had given warning, maybe you could reason with them, maybe no one had to have died. But raiders that come in the dark of night, killing all they willed , were not the sort of combatant you stayed around to reason with. Your task was to live, to survive, then to come back and rebuild. Always rebuild, as your parents had done all those years ago.
The metal of the broken fence dug into your hips, bringing forth a hiss of pain from your lips. You pushed through the pain, cursing as the metal dug deeper and deeper. With one last gasp, you heaved your hips through the fence, feeling the metal rip at the fabric of your clothes. Just as you were about to get up, run straight for the safety of the wilderness, a harsh grip landed on your ankle. Before even a thought could pass through your mind. You were dragged back, with force, through the hole. You screamed and kicked. Hands digging into the ground, fingers and nails desperately trying to find a hold in the soft dirt. You were flipped over. A man leering down at you.
"Ain't you a pretty thing, aye?" he sneered, his mouth opening in a wicked smile, showcasing missing and yellowed teeth. You scrunched your face in disgust, both at the sight in front of you and his hand gripping tighter onto your ankle. You were about to use your free leg to give him a swift kick, but the sight of a large hunting knife in his hand made you pause. He followed your gaze to it.
"Aw don't worry love, I'm not gonna use this thing on you, long as ya don't make a fuss." His smile grew, showcasing more blacked and cracked teeth. His face was a red blotchy colour, sweat dripped from his forehead, his weak chin wobbled as he spoke. In the fire light you could see the red veins of his eyes.
You tested his grip on you, trying to catch him unaware. Instead it backfired, resulting in him sitting on top of you, letting your ankle go.
"You be good for me sweets and I'll try to be as gentle as I can yeah?" he chuckled, your blood running cold. This man wanted something from you and there was no reason in the world that would stop him. You cannot reason with an evil man. You began to shriek, preferring him to killing you now than to suffer the injustice of his touch.
"Nobodies coming to save ya darl', Best ya get used to being on your back for me, it's gonna be real familiar by the time I get tired of you. Make me cum enough and I might just keep you" he leaned down against you, tongue licking up along your cheek. You began to trash harder, screaming. Begging. Praying. For anything, for anyone to came save you. He laughed at your misery, lifting him self back up to undo his belt.
"You ready for me to make you my whor-" a gargle where words should follow. You watched in shock as a knife was plunged in the back of his skull. Blood splattered down on you, your mouth open wide in fear and relief. You scrambled back as the evil man fell forward. You backed up against the wall, you could feel the wind blowing through the hole, your escape route still open. You started to make a mad dash for the opening, not thinking or even able to process what had happened, only focusing on what might have happened, what that man was intent on doing.
In a sick sense of Deja vu, you were once ripped from the opening. You were a bundle of feet and hands punching and kicking in all directions, your voice was hoarse from screaming bloody murder. A strong set of arms pulled you against them, and you fought like hell to be free.
"It's alright blue, its alright" came a familiar and calming voice. Only one person called you that in favour of your real name. You opened your eyes, there he was. Alive, breathing and surrounded by masked, camouflaged men.
"Red?" you whispered, not daring to shatter this illusion that he was still alive, that he had found his way back to you. You must be going mad. That evil man must have killed you, or you died in the smoke and flames burning your town. You blinked, pinched yourself. Even reached a hand to touch his face.
"It's me blue" he smiled, a perfect, lovely smile. Just as you remembered.
The men behind him shifted, causing you to panic, you grabbed red's hand and tried to run. You weren't gonna lose him again.
Instead of running into the fray once more, you were pulled back to red's arms.
"Red! We have to go! They'll kill us, please!" You begged, eyes looking into his warm brown ones. He places his hands on your arms, essentially trapping you were you stood.
"Red?" you questioned, why wasn't he worried, why weren't the men descending on you both with knifes raised. What was going on?
The fires had begun to die down, the screaming and crying was replaced with whispers of fear and a few sobs cried into the night. The warning siren slowed down to a halt.
"Red?" you whispered, not a question but a plea.
'Please still be the boy I knew before'
He looked down into your eyes, a sigh making its way pasted his lips.
He turns to his men.
"Bring all the prisoners to the town centre, no one is to harm the survivors unless I deem so. That includes coercing or forcing yourselves onto anyone. Understand?" he orders. His men giving a quick nod and salute before turning into the dying lights of the fire.
"No" you exclaim.
No, no, no, no, no
You shake your head, tears threatening to fall.
"You are one of them?" you gasp. The boy you knew as a child, the boy you had come to love, the boy who disappeared into the night, on a night eerily similar to this, returned as a raider, a killer, a monster.
A gives you a slight smirk, hands gripping you tighter.
"I'm not just one of them blue, I command them, I rule them" he boasts. A wicked gleam in his eyes.
"Traitor" you hiss. "You fucking monster! You absolute fucking bastard!"
Your anger overwhelmed whatever love you still had for him. Curled fists began attacking him, aiming for the face, when that wasn't enough to quell your fury, you tried scratching out his eyes. A pain seared across your face, you became unbalanced and fell on the very man who had threatened you a mere minute ago. Red had slapped you, caused you pain. One might argue you deserved it, lashing out like that. Most would say that's fucking irrelevant since he caused the destruction and violent occupation of your town.
"C'mon blue, you really gonna act out? I was being so nice too. Saved you from this fucker didn't I? Could've just let him have you" he pouted, head tilting to watch you try standing back up, giving the man's body a small kick while doing so. You balked at the sight of the evil man, his eyes still unnerving, even more so that he is dead, the movement of Red's kick, gave you the sick impression he was still alive.
A dangerous idea spread into your mind. The hunting knife lay unclaimed next to you. Red was unarmed as far as you could tell. You clasped the knife in a hurry, but before being able to take a slash or even stand up, Red's boot came crushing down onto your wrist. You squealed in pain, releasing the knife in a instant. His free boot kicked the knife away.
"Is that anyway to welcome home an old mate?" he tsked, "I know its been a few years, but come on blue, really? This? Trying to take me out with a knife?"
"What the fuck Red" you gasped, boot still crushing your wrist. "What the hell is going on, raiding? Seriously? this town was your home! How could you turn on us like that. How-how could you turn on me?" Pain, both physical and emotional rushed through your voice, once more tears began to spring, from the pain or the torment of knowing that your best friend was responsible for the death of dozens in your community.
"C'mon Blue! It ain't personal. Just the business of surviving. You think it brings me joy to burn this place to the ground? I mean to be honest it kinda does, but you know that story. But we don't have time to talk about that, right now you and I have a speech to get to." he grins, dark and cold. No way this is the curly haired kid you knew as a child. Red back then could barely kick a toad than massacre innocent civilians.
You let out a sigh of relief as he removes his boot. Only to let out a yelp in surprise as you are thrown over his shoulder.
"Let me go!" you cry, wiggling and worming in his hold.
"Not yet love! Got places to see and people to humiliate" his deranged laugh filled the silent streets you called home.
Before you only were able to see the destruction from a window still, or when you were at the edges of the fight. But now, now you saw everything. You watched in sorrow as you passed the bakery, still blazing alone, as the houses and shakes next to it had been pulled down. The school had been ransacked, pages and books lining the street in silent array. Childs' drawings danced lifelessly across the ground in the breeze.
Without even seeing where he was taking you, you knew where you were going. The town centre. A magnificent fig tree, alone in its splendour made for quite the impressive centre piece of the town. Speeches, weddings, announcements, birthdays and funerals were all held under its comforting branches. It calmed you to still see it still standing. Leaves fell with a hush down from its branches, as if it was crying watching the town that loved it go up in smoke.
You could hear your townspeople's whispers of fear and confusion as the watched you be carried into line of sight. You could see most of the towns population was still alive. The small group of men who were spared were pushed to one side, guarded heavily, despite being made up of elders, young boys, and a few injured men. The cluster of women and children were larger. You could see your friends and family in both groups. All accounted for, thank goodness. You were placed onto the ground and given to two guards, both quickly clasping onto your arms like their lives depended on it. You were off to the side, as Red sauntered his way to front and centre. He always loved being the centre of attention.
"Good people! How's it going?" he exclaimed, arms open wide and a smile gracing his lips. You could see confusion, vague recognition and just plain hatred line people's faces. More importantly you saw your parents both looking at you in absolute despair. You gave them a short smile and a nod, taking a deep breath when they followed suit.
Red began to speak again.
"Some of you may remember me, other's may not. I was one of you once, another member of this pathetic, weak society. You have no strength, despite your numbers. No courage or skill in warfare. Just a load of farmers, tradesmen and women. If this was any other town I would slaughter you all" he grins as if he is discussing a lovely day spent at the beach. Whispers become murmurs. Murmurs become barely contained talks of a massacre, of your towns soon extinction. You began to take shallower, faster breaths.
"Alright, calm down everyone. Maybe we need to work on our listening skills, aye? Now, let's put on our listening caps everyone. I said if you were any other town. Lucky for you bastards I actually like you guys! I had a good run here. Made some lovely mates" a pointed look thrown in your direction. "And was pretty well looked after, well until, you know. So in honour of the good times I had here. I have a compromise for you all." He clasps his hands together, and teeters back and froth from his toes to his heels.
"My men and I have already killed a whole bunch of ya, so how bout we move on from that, aye? You guys are gonna have to boost your numbers after my little stunt, and who better than the very people who massacred your friends and family!" looks of bitter disgust flow across the crowd.
"Yikes, bit of a tough crowd yeah. Alright look, the fellas and I used to have a pretty good place. But the waters run dry and also we're getting up in years, and so we're looking for a place to settle down. To have people to settle down with. So yeah we killed a whole bunch of your men, but hey! We're here to replace that gap. Maybe even help you guys with the whole defence side of things. I mean were those soldier fellas of yours even trained? They were easier to kill than a dead roo!" he barks out a laugh, his men following suit.
'What the fuck is wrong with him' you thought. Clearly years in the bush led to insanity.
"Oh! Before I forget" he stares in your direction, slowly making his way over. You squirm under his gaze uncomfortably. "If you little shits try any sort of rebellion or some shit like that. I'll slit their pretty little throat."
In a moment he brings a knife close to your throat. You reach your chin up, desperate to remove the icy sensation away from you. You look at where his eyes are directed, straight towards your mother, then slowly transferred to your father. Without their approval, any hope of rebellion or uprising is dashed. You are the perfect hostage.
"Great! Glad we could have this chat. So go have a good ole' sleep. Got a whole day of cleaning up to do tomorrow!" he beams, pulling the knife away just as quickly as he produced it. He turns his back on the towns people, grabbing your arm from one of the guards. You are dragged past the fig tree towards the council hall, located within the old water treatment plant. It is then you see how truly outnumbered you were. Nearly over a hundred men, all masked and camouflaged, line the water treatment plant, even with the men who were killed, there was no way your town could have fought them off.
You pulled back from Red, trying to get him to release his grasp.
"What is it blue? Thought you'd be happier to see your childhood mate"
"Fuck you, you dog" you spit, anger clear as day.
Red halts, and turns to you.
"Don't make me hurt you again."
It wasn't what he said, more so than how he said it. He's eyes lost their humanity, his features fell into sudden darkness, the hairs on the back of your neck stood up. You were looking into the eyes of an evil man.
You gave a quick nod, hoping he would lose interest.
"Good!" he cheers, and goes back into dragging you up the steps to the plant.
"Ya know I've never had a war trophy before" he mumbles
"Pardon?" confusion across your face turning into disgust
"You, your a war trophy." he deadpans as if its the simplest thing in the world to understand.
"I'm not a trophy" you grumble
"Cause you are, pretty enough, and you really think I'm ever gonna let you outta my sight again Blue? I've been dreaming about this day for years."
You carefully gazed up at him, his grasp on you had begun to soften.
He notices your confusion, or want for an explanation at the very least.
"You really think I would attack this place for water? Or for my men's retirement plan? Nah, blue. I burnt this town down for you, and I'd do it ten times over if you just asked."
It is then you are reminded of the skinny, lanky boy you made friends with as a child. Your mother used to laugh and call him your dog, when your father said it, he said it with annoyance. It was true, Red followed you around like a pup, always doing what you wanted and when. You didn't like remembering the day he left, mainly cause he was practically run out of town. It just took a slip of your tongue, it was an accident after all. You were a child, and didn't realise that sometimes words were dangerous. You didn't realise how much Red took your words to heart, or how much he cared to.
' Red, sometimes I just wish...'
'What blue? Tell me, I'll make it true'
'Well I just wish he was dead!'
You knew Red was being perfectly honest when he said he would burn this town down if you asked. He had already tried before.
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I don't know about the ending or if reader is really a war trophy but the words came and i just put them down.
49 notes · View notes
emissaire · 5 months
Text
yours, ardently - geto suguru x reader
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꒰꒰. SYNOPSIS: suguru crumbles in the presence of genuine devotion
꒰꒰. WARNINGS: reverse comfort, fluff, slight angst (lmk if i missed anything <3)
꒰꒰. NOTE: hello! i'm back (kind of) with my pookie, suguru. i've managed to write this in between dealing w/ school stuff and crying over school stuff. i missed writing sm 😭
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Geto Suguru is a man of chaotic solitude. Much like his best friend, he strives in an environment well-lived, radiant and loud. Age and maturity-wise, he could say he’s grown past that childlike impulsivity enough to avoid impending conflicts but he’s still just a man— not immune to the inevitable distraught of life. He used to be a bright-eyed boy with such a positive outlook in all things that come his way. His perspective of the world was reflected in the same sense of warmth that seemed to enshroud his very presence: gentle and kind, full of hope. He was a paragon that even the strongest relied on, his best friend’s moral compass was influenced by him as he was quite sensitive and so in tune to the things around him. 
Though he is not one to talk about the troubles that keep him up at night, you know him well enough to understand that something is wrong. The way he started shutting off anyone else that dares to come close is heartbreaking, even more so with knowing that there is nothing you can do that can fill the void in his heart. He rarely smiles nowadays. His face no longer lights up with glee and when it does, it no longer reaches his eyes— they don't crinkle anymore into pretty crescent shapes. They are both just bleak and empty pools that stare far away into the distance, slowly succumbing to the downward spiral journey of his life, and the possibility of not being able to catch up once he decides to let go, leave and not look back anymore is daunting. 
A soft knock interrupts your musing before you hear Suguru's voice from behind the door. "You awake?"
The sheets make rustling sounds as you hurry to open the door of your bedroom, ready to welcome Suguru in, both in your space and in your arms because it's how you comfort yourself— some sort of assurance that he's still with you. "Can't sleep?"
He only nods his head, making a beeline to your bed and you watch him sigh, his shoulders dropping in relaxation as if the warmth of your bed and your smell that lingers on the pillows are enough to coax him out of his shell. 
"Come, baby." Suguru reaches out to you, hand outstretched in the dark. And even though you can barely make out his figure on the bed, his presence is enough to make up for everything that was lacking when you were alone and wallowing in your thoughts of him.
It does not take you long to occupy the other side of the bed, almost instinctively cuddling up to him and embracing his body so tenderly you feel him slowly easing with you. His arms are quick to wrap around your waist, pulling you even closer as if he’s afraid you would slip away if he doesn't hold you tight. “It’ll be Christmas in a few months.” Suguru mentions, breaking the silence with the low timbre of his voice— soothing as always.
You smile, lifting your head just a bit to get a brief look at his face. “Yeah. Are we still on for that trip we planned last April?”
There is a telltale sign of a smile on his face— through the poor lighting that emits from the barely opened window of your room, you witness the slight upward curves at the corners of his lips, and for a moment you could see a glimpse of hope: a future with him. Everything will be alright.
Suguru doesn’t respond, his eyes just trailing across every feature of your face. Such sad eyes he has, but there is no denying the hints of love in the pretty brown hues of them as he admires you in silence. They even seem a little dim with the absence of it’s usual spark yet it doesn't take away the fact that he's still your Suguru. Your beautiful Suguru.
“Get some sleep, my love.” Your murmur, allowing him to burrow deeper in your arms and lay his head on your chest. The way you caress his hair makes him hum, so tender and full of care that it’s soothing. 
You let the tranquility of the night engulf your entwined bodies under the comfort of your sheets, letting the hours tick by with no care for anything at all but the warmth of your love and the way his breath settles evenly.
“I wish you’d just talk to me, Suguru.” You whisper once you've deemed he’s fallen asleep, your hands still caressing his hair in gentle strokes. “You’re not alone, you know? Share with me your pain.” Your voice falters with the last words you’ve spoken, finding it hard to breathe with the lump in your throat as you try to keep your tears at bay.
“I know you’re strong but you don’t always have to carry all that weight— I’m here. Satoru’s here, Ieri even. We’re always here.” A shaky breath falls past your lips when you feel Suguru’s arms tighten around you, the sound of a conspicuous sob from him almost makes you lose it but not right now. You need to be the one to keep it together and hold him, be his safe space and give him the assurance he needs to be vulnerable.
You resume playing with his hair, pressing a chaste kiss on his crown. "I love you."
And in that moment, Suguru crumbles in the presence of genuine devotion. He feels so ardently cared for, sheltered and utterly weak in your arms. Everything will be alright.
1K notes · View notes
izubabes · 2 years
Note
Hey hope you’re eating and drinking enough water. I wanna request a Izana, Kakucho, Hamna, Ran, and Rindou (Tenjiku time) meeting their future kids. Thank you, hope you have a nice week and pass your exams.
ᴍᴇᴇᴛɪɴɢ ᴛʜᴇɪʀ ꜰᴜᴛᴜʀᴇ ᴋɪᴅꜱ
𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬: 𝐈𝐳𝐚𝐧𝐚, 𝐑𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐨𝐮, 𝐑𝐚𝐧, 𝐊𝐚𝐤𝐮𝐜𝐡𝐨, 𝐇𝐚𝐧𝐦𝐚
𝐆𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: 𝐂𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐝𝐲, 𝐟𝐥𝐮𝐟𝐟? (𝐈 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐤?)
𝐁𝐚𝐜𝐤𝐠𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝: 𝐓𝐚𝐤𝐞𝐦𝐢𝐜𝐡𝐢 𝐢𝐬𝐧’𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐨𝐧𝐥𝐲 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞 𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐩𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐨 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐞𝐱𝐢𝐬𝐭… 𝐓𝐞𝐧𝐣𝐢𝐤𝐮 𝐠𝐞𝐭𝐬 𝐚 𝐭𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐫 𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐟𝐮𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐞!
𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫’𝐬 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞: 𝐓𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐤 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐝 𝐰𝐢𝐬𝐡𝐞𝐬! 𝐈 𝐞𝐧𝐣𝐨𝐲𝐞𝐝 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭, 𝐈 𝐚𝐛𝐬𝐨𝐥𝐮𝐭𝐞𝐥𝐲 𝐚𝐝𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐈𝐳𝐚𝐧𝐚. 𝐏𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞 𝐞𝐧𝐣𝐨𝐲!
ʕ•́ᴥ•̀ʔっ 𝐀𝐩𝐨𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐨𝐟 𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭𝐬, 𝐜𝐮𝐫𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐥𝐲 𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐂𝐎𝐕𝐈𝐃-𝟏𝟗.
Part 2
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𝐈𝐳𝐚𝐧𝐚
Someone’s watching us.
“Hey.” You glanced up at your preoccupied boyfriend as he stared down the empty hallway of your apartment building. It would be lying to say you hadn't felt someone's gaze on you two all evening, especially when Izana had taken you out to dinner earlier. “Is something wrong?”
Izana shook his head in response, softly caressing your cheek as a tight-lipped smile replaced his concerned expression. He would never voice his restless thoughts in fear of making you worry; it was his duty to keep you safe at all costs. “Nothing at all, sweetheart. It’s late, get some sleep.”
Uneasiness crept up your spine at the way he dodged your question, never dropping the tension lingering in his brow. A crack of thunder could be heard approaching in the distance, signaling the impending storm would be rolling in sometime during the night in which Izana would not be present. “Do you want to stay over? It's going to rain soon.”
“Tomorrow, pretty girl.” Izana replied, placing a chaste peck on your forehead. His heart ached at the sight of your teary eyes, wanting him to change his decision and indulge your needy request. “Cheer up. I have early morning plans with Kakucho, don’t wanna wake you. I promise to spoil you all day tomorrow.”
The unsettling prick of surveillance cuts through the atmosphere once again and this time Izana cannot brush it off. The looming threat needed to be neutralized as soon as possible. He nearly walked off without saying a word until he felt your warm embrace latching onto his turned back, grounding him back to reality.
“I love you, Izana.” You whispered, hugging him one last time before entering your apartment and bidding him goodnight. Those affectionate words always caused his heartbeat to quicken and spasm no matter how many times you’ve exchanged them over the past couple of months.
“I know.”
Icy droplets littered the isolated streets, pounding against the concrete as Izana's footsteps echoed through the alleyway. He had noticed the second set of steps following close behind as soon as he had he left your apartment complex. They matched his pace, direction and rhythm, it was eerie how within the next minute, they went silent.
Serves them right, I really did not want to kill anyone tonight.
Tenjiku's homebase was abandoned for the evening as the meeting to discuss the upcoming battle with Toman would not be until tomorrow morning. Izana relaxed at the feeling of being alone for once, despite how much he had grown to hate loneliness as a child, it brought comfort when he needed it the most. The empire he had strived to build was right before him, subordinates ready to carry out his orders left and right and impenetrable team of ruthless fighters eager to defend the King's will.
Izana's pleasant daydream was cut short with a sharp impact coming in from his side. He managed to block the blow with his forearm, sending a defensive kick towards the attacker who easily dodged the incoming assault.
“You’re a real bastard for leaving Mom all by herself,” The intruder muttered, cradling his aching fist as he backed away from his overpowered victim. The malice in his voice increased as he spoke once again, this time bringing someone else into the conversation. “She hates thunderstorms especially when she’s alone.”
“Huh? What are you talking about?” Izana fired back, walking towards his target. “How the hell did you get here? Answer me before I beat the shit out of you.”
A carbon copy of Izana, practically identical with a few distinct features, the familiarity bothered him, it was as if he had recognized the boy’s face from long ago. “I’m your son, dumbass.”
Izana scoffed, pushing him against the wall as he wrapped a deadly hand around the boy's throat, squeezing down on his windpipe as a sadistic grin ran across his features. “That’s impossible, I don’t have any kids. Not any to be as old as you are.”
“S-She named me after you," The mysterious boy choked out, gripping at Izana's arm, too weak to fight back and free himself. “My name... is Ren Kurokawa!” He continued, narrowing his pale violet irises at Izana. They're devoid of life, instead a cloud of poison reflects from those beautiful irises, shaking Izana to his core. Such a hateful expression should never be seen in a child’s eyes. “I’m 15, born in the year 2XXX. Y/N L/N is my mother. You, Izana Kurokawa, are my father.”
“That’s my earring, where did you get it?” Izana questioned, freeing Ren and reaching out to examine the cherished accessory before his hand was violently slapped away.
“M-Mom gave me this earring,” Ren coughed, struggling to regulate his breathing after nearly suffocating at his father's murderous hands. “It’s important to her. She made me promise to keep it safe.”
Izana finds himself falling in love with you even more, infatuated with the fact you will both eventually share a child together. He's done it. He's found his family. He has created his perfect future.
“I want to show you something, come with me.” Izana ordered, dragging Ren along the endless space of his kingdom. It was comforting to know he could have someone follow in his footsteps, carry on his legacy, to continue his life’a mission if he were ever
“What is this place?”
Izana's eyes shined with pride, arms extending high and wide to present the fruits of his hard work. “One of Tenjiku’s hideouts. Our main base of operations, if you will."
"This is where the Tokyo Manji Gang will face Tenjiku..." Ren concluded, stumbling upon the realization of what past timeline he stumbled into.
“A war is going to break out soon, Ren. It’s a predetermined victory. This battle’s victory belongs to Tenjiku. Toman will be crushed, and Mikey will fall. I will end everything here. Unlike the people in my life, I promised Y/N I would come back to her after this, we're going to build a golden future together."
"Will you though?" Ren sighed at the determination present on his father's face, knowing there was nothing in the world he could say to stop his plans. The future is predetermined, trying to fix it would risk changing the timeline he originated from. "You should call off the fight... people are going to die. Are you okay with that?"
Izana turned to face Ren, a bittersweet grin illuminating his manic eyes as he patted the boy on the head. A sickening chill ran up Ren’s spine at the way Izana presented himself with such unwavering pride and strength. "I will trample over anyone threatens to ruin my success. One day, this will be yours, Ren."
The scattered pieces finally come together, the reason why Izana is not present in any of your future pictures dated after this specific conflict. He was a destined casualty, fated to be killed by one of his own comrades. Izana was unknowingly walking into his own deathtrap. The endless lectures he received from you suddenly made sense, discouraging him from engaging in gang related activity or delinquent behavior.
"Ren, please stop looking for trouble. As your mother, I hate cleaning up your wounds when you come home. You act just like your father when he was your age."
“Don't compare me to that bastard. How can you still love the man that left you all alone, Mom? I would never forgive him.”
“One day you’ll understand, Ren.” You sigh, wiping away the dirt and dried blood from your son's bruised cheek as he awaits your harsh scolding. Instead, he comes face to face with a longing smile on your visage, a line of tears skimming along your lash line. “Izana's love is always around me; I can feel it every time I wake up and every time I go to sleep. Your father left a part of himself behind, something for me to nurture and grow with.”
“How so?” Ren scoffs, wincing as you patch up up his torn up knuckles.
A cloud of gloominess occupies the space in your glimmering irises, the curve of your smile falters as you reaffirm your own thoughts. “I have you! My precious baby boy, I promise your Dad loves you. He would’ve done anything to be here with us… he wanted to be with us.”
Kakucho enters the living room, noting the tension between mother and son and the wavering tone in your voice. “W-Would you mind finishing up for me? I need to get started on dinner.”
Ren knows he’s hurt your feelings, it was apparent with the way you avoided his piercing gaze, for if you stared into them too long, Izana’s face would manifest right before you. The tears would begin to flow once again and he would be faced with having to help his mother cope with her grief again.
The pair sits in silence, not a single word being exchanged until the older man speaks up. "People followed Izana because they respected him not because they feared him.”
Ren let out a dry laugh, disregarding the curious glance his uncle spares him. “Respect, my ass. He was a selfish bastard who never made it home to his so called ‘love-of-his-life’, leaving her to mourn his death in solitude.”
“Your father made me promise to watch over your mother, Ren.” Kakucho replies, continuing the cleanup as the child passively listened to his voice. “When I found out Y/N was expecting you, my priority became raising you to be the man Izana would have wanted you to be.”
Ren shakes his head in disbelief, unable to believe his father could have made such a selfless decision considering how manic he was. “You always defend him, Uncle Kaku. I have a right to be upset, you know! He made Mom carry a crippling burden all on her own. I hate that man, if I were to ever meet him… I’d punch him straight in the face.”
“Be careful what you wish for, Ren.” Kakucho warns, tightening the bandage on the adolescent’s hand. A sympathetic expression washes over his face as he heads towards the kitchen, signaling Ren to follow. “You never know if it’ll come true.”
Ren turned his attention back to the conversation, coming to terms with the fact this would soon become a distant memory. A form of necessary closure, an opportunity to speak with the man he once presumed to hate and now came to admire, just a bit. “My time is up, Izana."
"Y/N and I..." Izana whispered, a tinge of anxiety lacing his words as he presented his question. "Are we still in love in the future? Am I making her happy?"
Ren nodded, his voice softening as he “You’re gonna love each other until the day you die.”
"Right..." Izana paused, a soft smile dances on the curve of his lips. Somehow the answer is reassuring yet comes as a subtle warning of sorts. His heart weighs heavy in his chest as if to advise that no more information should be discovered. “Maybe I don’t need to know any more than that.”
“I wish I could say the same, Dad.” Your son returned the gesture, biting back the tears forming in his orchid eyes as he waved goodbye to the man he would never reunite with. The man who was responsible for his existence, the man who laid down his life to keep his beloved
"One more thing!" Ren shouted as he began to disappear, running towards Izana's outstretched hand. Their hands meet for a moment before brushing through the air like strands of wind being carried along in the breeze.
"Don't trust Kisaki and Hanma... please."
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𝐑𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐨𝐮
“Daddy’s here!”
Two minutes ago, Rindou Haitani was sure as hell he had no children of his own. Right now, he’s questioning his entire existence and decisions made up until this point in time. Especially when there’s a tiny preschooler latching onto him in hysterics and claiming him as his father.
“Hey, who let this little brat in here!?” Rindou screeched as he motioned to the child clinging to his boot, shaking him back and forth in an effort to get rid of him. Another Tenjiku subordinate attempted to remove the boy from Rindou’s leg but was met with a fierce bite on the hand.
Children are terrifying.
The child pawed at his uniform, making little grabby hands towards Rindou in an attempt to climb up his leg. "Daddy, play with Hikaru. "
Rindou was confused, terrified and downright nauseous at the way the child clung to him. He’s not fond of kids, he's not the fatherly type, he's not even in a relationship. "Do I look like your Daddy, you brat!?"
"You are my Daddy." Hikaru answered brightly, pointing to his hair and his uniform. He stared up at the younger Haitani as if he were in the presence of a celebrity, giggling and squealing as he elaborated on the statement. “Mama said Daddy used to have cotton candy hair and that he was in a super scary gang!"
Unfortunately, the boy was right about both of those things. Except who the fuck knows so much about his personal life?
Rindou pushed the child away, backing up to create distance between the two of them. He shuddered at the idea of having a child, especially now considering how needy and grubby they are. The more he observed the little monster, the more he realized there was a close resemblance. “I ain’t your dad, kid. Shoo, shoo!”
Hikaru fell onto his back, pouting at Rindou's harsh words as incoming tears welled up in his violet hues before bursting into loud sobs. He curled himself up into a tiny ball, glancing in between the crowd for some comfort as his cries intensified. "Mama! I want my Mama!"
"No, no, no. Don't cry!" Rindou huffed, caving in and picking up the bratty child, lightly patting his back in order to soothe his temper tantrum. If this is what parenting is like, Rindou is holding off from having his kids anytime soon. “Ugh, fuck... Who’s your mom, kid?”
“Mama’s name is Y/N...” Hikaru sniffled, a light trail of snot now coating Rindou's uniform, much to his growing disgust. A fiery arrow of shock pierced Rindou's mind, his thoughts were scattered, palms sweaty as he struggled to form words. The pounding his chest was beginning to become overwhelming as he processed the weight behind the child's words. "I want Mama. Where's Mama?"
This is Y/N's brat. This is my brat. This is our brat? Holy fuck, we have a brat. This is a joke; this has to be some sick ass joke Ran must have planned.
“Rindou!" Ran shouted in the background, approaching the chaotic scene unfolding before him as he glanced between Hikaru and his presumed father. “I have a nephew and you never told me? I’m so hurt.”
The younger Haitani scoffed at his brother’s words ignoring the fake tears littering Ran’s cheeks as he started playing with the boy. “I do not have a kid, Ran!”
Ran pointed at Hikaru in disbelief before covering the little one’s ears and raising his voice once again. “Rindou, he’s literally the spitting image of you as a kid. I see some of Y/N’s features in there too. You two make adorable children.”
Rindou sighed, the rosy tint on his face burning brighter than the sun. The farthest boundary Rindou has crossed was holding your hand, as friends. He still struggled with finding a perfect opportunity to properly ask you out. "Y/N and I are not together. I haven’t even touched her like that. She’s my best friend.”
Ran smirked, a teasing glint illuminating his devious expression. “Still haven’t made a move, Rindou? Better hurry before I drop by and whisk her away.”
Hikaru now tugged on Ran’s jacket, turning his attention to the older Haitani as he reached out for him. His cute lavender irises matched the pouty expression on his sweet little face. “Uncle Ran, carry Hikaru! Carry Hikaru, please!”
Rindou’s heart churned in delight at how easily Ran accepted the child’s demands. He was always the best older brother when they were growing up, patient, strong, and gentle.
Most of the time…
Ran gushed as the child played with his braids, wincing as soon as he tugged on them with a brutal force. “Aw... He’s just like you, Rindou. You always wanted to be carried as a kid. How old are you, little guy?"
His nephew held up his hand, signaling the age he "Hikaru is five, gonna be six soon!"
The lingering Tenjiku members fought back snickers at the soft aura radiating from the Haitani brothers. The duo who was supposed to be known for ruining lives and murdering a notorious gang leader in their youth was playing house with a random little boy.
Rindou narrowed his eyes at the group, pointing Ran's baton at them as he threatened them with an incoming punishment. “Next person who laughs is getting their joints realigned, motherfuckers!"
The watch on Hikaru's tiny wrist beeped as if to warn the child that his time was up. "Hikaru has to go... Bye-bye Daddy! Bye-Bye Uncle Ran!"
Just like that, Hikaru was gone. Back to his own timeline.
"What the actual fuck just happened?"
Ran chuckled, elbowing his younger brother and handing him his cellphone, conveniently opened on your contact profile. "I think we just met your future son. I'd say this is perfect time to confess, hm?"
Rindou’s romantic feelings towards you are a well-kept secret, mostly well-kept considering Ran is the only person aware of the situation. His shaky breaths echoed over the phone as he waited for you to answer on the other end of the line, relaxing once he heard your sleepy voice ask if he was okay. “Y/N, it’s Rindou. I know it’s late, sorry. Can I come over? I need to tell you something… it’s important.”
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𝐑𝐚𝐧
“Papa! Oh my god, I found you."
Ran Haitani is not an oblivious fool, he was aware he was being followed all throughout the day, by a young girl, nonetheless. What reasoning was is unknown, what her idenity a
"You're not very smart." Ran toyed with his braids, an amused chuckle escaping his chest as he watched the madness unfold. “You can’t just waltz in here without expecting a fight, little lady.”
The teenage girl scoffed, stepping forward a few feet as she argued in her defense. Her face flared up with a scarlet hue, a mix of fury and humilation lacing her voice as she spoke. “It’s Momo! Your daughter, the light of your life, your little girl?”
Rindou chuckled, whistling over his Tenjiku subordinates and pointing in the direction of the intruder. The men obediently followed their superior's orders, stalking towards the source of their troubles. “She’s fuckin’ insane, bro. Get her, boys."
“I’m not crazy, let go of me!”
Ran hummed, amused with what he was hearing and deciding to indulge her claims. “Prove it, sweetheart. Any potential daughter of mine should know how to fight, yeah?”
“Mom was right about you two being complete idiots!” Momo huffed, kicking and biting at her captors before pulling a baton out of her left boot. The first round of opponents stepped forward, believing a quick ambush would be enough to stop a girl her size, it would be an easy victory.
Or so they thought.
Ran and Rindou watched in disbelief as she took them down with ease, weaving her way through her attackers with an elegance they had never witnessed before. She knew how to subdue multiple targets, locking the joints of her opponents and breaking their limbs within seconds, a technique which Rindou was famously recognized for.
Momo stomped towards the brothers, gracefully swinging the weapon at the Tenjiku members who dared to lunge at her. Her fighting style definitely mirrored Ran's own defensive stance, the fire blazing in her lilac irises reflected pure malice. “Want me to prove myself, Papa? Uncle Rin-Rin has two moles and a scar on his left buttcheek that literally makes a smiley face.”
Rindou’s fiery temper flared up at the statement, glaring menacingly at his older brother, the only one who knew about his most initiate secrets. “How the fuck does she know that!?”
A sadistic grin illuminated her features, similar to her father's when he knows he's won the fight. “Papa, you have Mom’s initials tattooed in between your ring finger! She has yours on her wrist.”
Ran walked into the ongoing feud, too intrigued to have the bloodshed continue any longer. His subordinates parted like the sea, clearing a path between the eldest Haitani and the intruder. "Stand down, gentlemen. I'm gonna have a chat with the girly."
It was true, Ran did have your initials inked in between his digits as well. Rindou’s butt did in fact have a smiley face on it. She could fight on her own as well as they could, even mixing their distinct fighting styles into her own original form. Could this girl be what they call a time traveler?
Momo sighed, pulling a cellphone out of her pocket and handing it over to Ran’s curious hand. “Here. Check my phone, there’s tons of pictures of us in there.”
“Uh… Are you serious?” Ran asked, suspiciously inspecting the device as if it were a bomb. He opened the photos app, paneling through his daughter’s selfies until he came across a family photo. “Holy fuck, that’s Y/N! My girl and I are still going strong, Rin.”
“Ew…” Rindou shuddered, glancing between his brother and his newfound niece. Her appearance was pure Haitani genetics mixed perfectly with your own features, a lovely combination of both of her attractive parents. “Never figured you’d have a kid, big bro. She got Y/N's pretty face, though.”
“This is why Uncle Rin-Rin is still single.” Momo clicked her tongue in distaste at the comment, ignoring the way Rindou flicked her off at her remark. “Shallow as ever.”
"My wifey is going to be the hottest MILF out there," Ran boasted, swiping through the pictures on the device before showing Rindou an image of an older woman, you, on her wedding day with Ran.
An irritated voice cut in, impatiently tapping her foot on the ground as the beeping on her watch warned of her time limit. She pointed her baton at the pair, motioning for them to hand over the phone. “Do you believe me now? I’m your daughter, Momo Haitani. Sixteen, blood type O, Gemini.”
Ran gazed over at his daughter, accepting the claim she had made earlier as the truth. It was interesting, to say the least, to meet his future child despite how annoying she may be. “You’re a Haitani, little lady. Tell me, where exactly did you come from?”
“Long story, not enough time.” Momo answered before jumping and hugging Ran and Rindou as she began to return to her own timeline. The brothers were stunned at the way she slowly faded away, a knowing smirk highlighting her features. “It was nice to meet you in your delinquent days, Papa! I just don’t understand how Mom fell for you in that tacky outfit.”
Ran frowned at the comment, offended that his own daughter would insult him. “Excuse me…? You’re grounded, little lady.”
Momo smirked, shrugging her shoulders and sticking her tongue out in response"I look forward to my punishment in sixteen years, Papa. Take care!"
Rindou snorted at his brother's statement, gagging at how fatherly he had grown in the last fifteen minutes. “Bro, you scolded her just like a parent.”
“Might as well start practicing, hm?”
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𝐊𝐚𝐤𝐮𝐜𝐡𝐨
"Let me get this straight... I'm your father?"
The child before him nodded her head at the statement, giddiness radiating from her tiny body as Kakucho offered her an anxious smile in return. "Yes, but in a really, really, really long time. It's nice to meet you, Daddy."
Kakucho's day was going relatively fine until he was approached by the young girl standing before him on his way to your house. He was roped into an intense conversation with the child regarding his personal information before being accused of being her father. "Okay, this is some kind of joke, right? Let's go find your parents, yeah?"
Kakucho offered her his hand in an attempt to walk her to the nearest police station, conveniently located in the direction of your neighborhood which was his intended destination in the first place. "What's your name, little one?"
“Arisa, Arisa Hitto! I'm seven years old. Is that your Tenjiku uniform, Daddy? Mommy tells me bedtime stories about Tenjiku's kingdom, she’s the princess and Daddy is the handsome prince that saves her! I'm the magical fairy who helps Daddy with his mission.”
No doubt about it, this was his daughter. She's practically his twin in terms of appearance, minus the scar. However, the timeframe does not make one ounce of sense. Kakucho's had his share of flings but not any long enough to conceive a child around Arisa's age.
He's relieved that whoever his future spouse is lied about the real origins behind Tenjiku's reality, turning it into a fairytale of sorts.
“Mommy?” Kakucho questioned, curious to know what his future wife is like. Currently, there are no women on Kakucho's mind nor has he dated anyone recently. "Arisa, can you tell me... What is she like?"
Arisa's pupils increased in size, practically consuming the whites of her eyes as she began to gush about her mother. Her short arms flailed with every description she gave, becoming more and more excited with each sentence that escaped her lips. Arisa's dynamic nature reminded him of a certain someone, but he had yet to figure out exactly who he was thinking of.
"Oh gosh! Mommy is the prettiest lady in the world... I want to be a beautiful lady like her when I'm older. She cooks tasty meals, tucks me in and gives me lots and lots of kisses. She gives Daddy kisses too, don't be jealous, okay? OH! She really, really, really loves karaoke and coffee jelly; we go every Friday after you come home from work."
"Is that so?" He chuckled, giving her hand a little squeeze in affirmation.
"Uh-huh!" Arisa beamed, continuing her endless rambles as Kakucho listened on. "She loves to tell me bedtime stories. Mommy said she liked Daddy for a long time before he noticed.”
A secret admirer? There's no way. Kakucho's dating life is practically non-existent considering Tenjiku and Izana are his current priority. However, a tiny shred of hope lingered in his soul regarding his one-sided crush towards one gorgeous girl: you.
His best friend, the woman of his dreams, the only other person he would be willing to lay down his soul for, the girl who keeps him awake at night. Maybe one day he would confess his feelings properly instead of sending mixed signals and teetering on the blurred lines of friend or lover.
Kakucho found himself in front of your house instead of the police station.
"Hey there!" As if on cue, you approached the pair, the small child immediately catching your attention as you greeted her politely. Arisa's calmness flew out the window as soon as she locked eyes with you, begging to be played with and indulged. You obediently picked her up and swung her around at her request. “Kakucho, who’s this? She’s so adorable, you never told me you had a little sister!”
Kakucho has no family, a fact he has yet to share with you, but that would be a tale for another time. Right now, he's preoccupied with watching the current interaction take place. He tried to fumble for an explanation that would sound somewhat believable without turning him into a potential creep. “She’s not. I don’t know..."
The child beat him to it, noting the chaotic way her future father tangled up his words. Her quick thinking was definitely something she must have inherited from you. “I got lost, Mister Kakucho helped me find my way back to my house. My name is Arisa. What's yours, pretty lady?"
The compliment had you flustered beyond belief, Kakucho admired the way you squealed at the little one's words, a tiny grin dancing across his lips. "Oh my gosh, you're the cutest little girl ever! My name is Y/N, it's a pleasure to meet you. Do you want a treat?"
Kakucho found himself outside the nearby convenience store with Arisa as they waited for you to return with the treats you promised to buy, claiming it would only be a five-minute wait.
“Mommy’s so pretty,” Arisa sighed, a dreamy expression fluttering across her innocent face.
“Yes, she is…” Kakucho blurted out, backtracking as soon as he realized exactly what the hell she just said. “Huh?! Y/N’s your mother!?”
Arisa laughed at the panicked expression consuming Kakucho's composure. Children never understand the weight behind their actions, of course. "Why are you acting shy. Daddy? You and Mommy kiss all the time. It's yucky!"
Kakucho covered his face with his hand, hiding the scarlet red flush blooming across his skin. He fanned himself repeatedly as he saw your figure approaching the register, signaling you would be coming out soon. "Hush, Arisa. She'll hear you."
"You like Mommy, right Daddy?"
Kakucho held back the urge to deny his feelings, attempting to convince himself that you would never reciprocate. There was no way you could love a damaged man like him, nor bear his child in the future. The friendship you shared was intimate, yes. However, you never expressed any sort of romantic attraction towards him, right?
'Mommy said she liked Daddy for a long time before he noticed.'
Arisa reached out and grasped Kakucho's hands, staring deep into his soul as her face turned serious. She was wise beyond her years, a trait she must have picked up from him. “You should tell Mommy you like her. She taught me it’s not okay to keep secrets from people you love. Promise to tell her, 'kay?”
In the blink of an eye, Arisa disappeared from existence, presumably back to the proper future she came from. Kakucho was too stunned to speak, still questioning if he was living in reality instead of being indulged in a mind-boggling dream. Today's events have been a whirlwind of emotions and something he would likely never recover from.
"I'm back and I bought coffee jelly!" You cheered, holding up a tiny grocery bag full of goodies from the convenience store. He watched as you scanned the area, clearly in search of the tiny companion accompanying him earlier. "Kaku, where's the little one?"
"She went home," Kakucho lied, hoping you would believe another fabricated story instead of prying any further. The bummed expression on his face tugged at his heartstrings, soon replaced with a more delighed one as he shyly extended his hand out to you. "Do you want to have a movie night?"
"Yes! I missed hanging out with my bestie!" You gently laced your fingers with his, crossing another line Kakucho was overjoyed to be experiencing with you. "Arisa was super sweet... Maybe we'll run into her again sometime soon."
"I'm sure we will."
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𝐇𝐚𝐧𝐦𝐚
"I need to grab something from the store really quick. Want anything, Shuji?"
Hanma parked the roaring motorcycle, allowing you to slide off the seat as he turned to face you. He lit the last cigarette left in his coat pocket, gingerly blowing some of the foul smoke into your face much to your disgust. "Some more cigs, baby. I'm starting to get jittery over here."
"Those things are going to kill you one day,” You said, flicking his forehead at the way he rolled his eyes at your remark. He always loved the way you showed your concern through physical touch, no matter how much of an annoyance it could be. “Wait for me, okay?”
Tokyo's streets are full of all types of people: students, salarymen, parents, teachers. Everyone is hustling to catch the train, beat traffic, commute to work or school, rushing to catch up with the quickening pace of their lives. As mundane as it is, there's a pleasant aura that surrounds these kinds of individuals who carelessly go on about their days, without a care in the world for people other than themselves. Their choices carry little to no impact on the way society functions, instead becoming part of the crowd of the ones who reap its everlasting benefits.
Gang members and fugitives are not granted a normal life.
Dating a delinquent such as Shuji Hanma means you have to be quick on your feet, an incredible, a loyal partner and a passionate lover. Finding him close to death in a backway alley after work nearly nine months ago was the start of your budding relationship. A chaotic one, yes, but there was real love brewing within the confines of each other's unconventional hearts and souls.
Hanma views the world through a grey scale lens, finding no meaning to life since death was always a looming afterthought in the back of his mind. He regrets dragging you into his growing mess, knowing you could be imprisoned for harboring a fugitive. He knows this journey will ruin you, poison you, corrupt you but it's a fact you immediately accepted upon embarking in unfamiliar territory with him.
The unsettling tinge of an existential crisis looms over his shoulders, nipping at the confines of his cluttered mind. “Am I going to continue this dull life every day until the day I die?”
A slight tug on his pants brings his attention back to the present, coming in contact with a pair of golden gilded eyes. A young girl, presumably around the age of seven, stared up at him with such a perfect example of pure adoration in her innocent orbs that it nearly made him sick. “Daddy! Daddy! Daddy!”
Hanma shook off the child, patting her tiny little hand with a gentleness normally reserved for you. He may not be fond of small humans, but he knows how to handle them in certain dosages. “I’m definitely not your dad, sweetheart.”
The girl only giggled in response, climbing onto his motorcycle before he could protest and strapping on the spare helmet. “Daddy, stop being silly. I wanna go for a ride.”
Hanma blinked, removing the stray kid from his bike as he peered down at her curious expression. She felt comfortable enough to touch a stranger's belongings, seriously? Whoever is raising her is doing a shit job of parenting. “Right… You lost or something, pipsqueak?”
Before the child could answer, she jumped off the motorbike and rushed towards your approaching figure. “Mama!”
Being addressed like that definitely caught you by surprise especially when a small pair of arms wrapped around your legs. You glanced at your delinquent boyfriend and the child next to him, seemingly putting the pieces together. Hanma could see the vein on your forehead start to pulse, signaling your pissed off temper. “Shuji, whose child did you kidnap for this prank? Take her back, now.”
Hanma sighed, a bit of disappointment tracing across his face as he gave you a pout. “Have some faith in me, dollface. I would never do anything heinous like that. I'm just as confused as you are."
Says the wanted man who is on the run for murder.
You crouched down to the child's height and offered her a kind smile in contrast to Hanma's deranged one. “Honey, do you know this man? Did he say anything weird to you? I can help find your parents or take you to a police box.”
The young girl tilted her head in response, brows furrowed together while trying to understand the hesitation alluding from your nervous expression. “Mama, it’s just Daddy! Why are you acting weird? It's me, Reika.”
"M-Mama?" You stammered, a light chuckle of anxiety escaping from your lips. It was too early in the day to play along with whatever elaborate scheme your boyfriend had come up with. "Okay, sweet girl. I think you have us confused for someone else."
Reika stomped her tiny foot on the ground in protest, declaring once again that Shuji and you are her parents, she is a time leaper and she wanted to come meet the younger version of them. Hanma merely nodded along, being the most composed one out of the trio as you attempted to process whose actual child this was because there was no way in hell time leaping is real.
"Look here!" She exclaimed, pointing at the chain secured around her neck latched around a gold locket. Inside the jewelry was a picture of Hanma and you, older but still recognizable, cuddling the child standing before you.
The proof was authentic, Reika was a living being, she is your time leaping daughter.
Hanma was the first to speak, picking up the child and swinging her around in pure glee, much to your surprise. The shit-eating grin on his face only grew wider as you became flustered at the mischievous expression on his face. “Holy shit, you really are our brat! Mama and I did a great fuckin' job, huh? ♡”
You were quick to silence your silence your boyfriend out of embarrassment and the fact he was defiling the child's innocent mind with his foul mouth. “Shuji! Cover her ears if you're going to be acting like a degenerate.”
“Sorry baby,” Hanma apologized, pecking your cheek as a form of a quick apology. Reika gagged at the affection being shared between her caregivers, still in the age of thinking boy carry cooties and are disgusting. “Well, we’re your parents, pipsqueak. What do ya think of your Mama and Daddy?"
"So cool!" Reika grinned, placing a tiny peck on each of your cheeks before waving goodbye and slowly fading away. Hanma ruffled her hair as she pouted about his future self continuing the annoying habit. “I really wanted to meet you two! I have to go now; my time is up.”
An agonizing groan erupted from your throat as you clung to your boyfriend in support. The encounter had your mind running in circles over the fact you just experienced of one the universe's most insane adventures. “What just happened? Did we really just meet our future daughter? Oh god, I have a headache, I need a nap.”
"Relax, babe. I'll take care of you." Hanma’s inked hands looped around your waist, pawing at the plush skin of your hips. His hot breath fanned the sensitive shell of your ear as he spoke, a sultry tone coating his next words. “Wanna go home and get a head start on the baby? ♡”
“Shuji!”
Turns out Hanma’s life wouldn’t be so dull after all.
(っ◔◡◔)っ Reblogs are appreciated! Thank you for the love and support! ♡
8K notes · View notes
thisdreamplace · 8 months
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for those who struggle
i recently got sent an anon message about frustrations surrounding the law, and how non-dualism hasn't made it any easier for them, but actually just more frustrating to the point where they're officially walking away from everything and wanting to just go back to live as they knew it before any of this.
the truth is that, oversimplification runs rampant in this community. as well as, hiding behind the realities of how difficult it all can be, because people are afraid of affirming that it's difficult or identifying with difficulty... but when we hide from this experience and try to come off as if it doesn't affect us, while simultaneously trying to give out advice, there tends to be more damage than good happening. the oversimplifying isn't the fault of anyone, as the truth is most of this is simple. but in actually living it, it tends to not be simple at all. the ego will fight till the very end to keep things the way they are, even when they hurt us. and that is worth being honest about.
when it comes to non-identification and indifference, this is not meant to be used to as yet another way to pretend something isn't happening or push down your feelings or gaslight yourself. i see these posts like, "just ignore the 3d and don't identify with it and you would have already have what you wanted" ..... this doesn't actually really help anyone, unless you're a person who strives on that kind of mentality. but i think a lot of people need a little more gentleness and realness, otherwise this journey wouldn't have been so difficult and painful. we'd all just get it overnight, but clearly, this community stays extremely active for a reason. because the million ways its already been explained still leaves so many confused and frustrated.
indifference is a daily practice, and it is NOT one that includes pretending something doesn't exist in exchange for getting what you want. it is actually, the extreme opposite. it's by acknowledging what's there... and allowing that to be what it is. the non-identification comes in from how you choose to see YOURSELF in relation to whatever that thing is. "this is painful, this sucks, i hate it... but that doesn't mean tomorrow won't be better for me. it doesn't mean my life is doomed..." etc etc etc. it's this very small flip within yourself, that actually leads to results. not trying to force yourself into believing you aren't even who you are when you've identified as yourself this entire life. remember that god's name is I AM, and literally nothing else.
and doing something to get something else is just... not it. it's time for you to truly want to feel better, regardless of anything else. that's why so much of this starts to get trickier than it needs to be.
non-identification is literally as simple as realizing... you are bound to no past, and you have the opportunity of every future you can possibly imagine. why ? because non-identification is literally just non-attachment. when you're not attached to this idea of who you were, of the struggles you used to face, you're able to allow in different experiences. and y'all... this as simple as being able to say to yourself, "i am allowed to experience something new" and don't let your fear of the unknown stop you from experiencing something new.
here's where it doesn't feel so simple though. how can you just stop identifying with this whole human self when the traumas of the past keep coming back to haunt you ? thats the thing. you don't just stop identifying with it. you let this be a process, a non-linear path to liberation. slowly, but surely, if you keep at it everyday, even when you feel you're only going backwards... one day you will realize how much more free you are. how much more easier it is to move into a new beautiful story for yourself, one that isn't contiminated by your past. but let today be today ! and whatever may come, let it come.
this is why just focusing on yourself is so helpful because if you're simply doing the best you can for yourself and your feeling state, the daily dramas are no longer your ruler.
the gag is that, the more you just do these small daily practices of sitting with yourself, choosing to not engage in the stories you used to identify with in the past, and allow new experiences to come to you... the more easy it gets, the more the truth of yourself begins to show itself on its own. you have to realize that the days are going to keep passing by anyway... so stop counting them, and just commit to yourself.
i also want to quickly note that so many seem to leave out the fact that behind all of this, within the pure nothingness that is also everything. behind our human identifications and all the things we have experienced in our lives, there is unconditional love. and when we actually begin to stop identifying so deeply with who we thought we are, we are lead right back to unconditional love. love in its purest form. so, use love as your guide when things get too difficult. it's the truest thing to who you really are.
you have to let allow yourself to experience the beautiful, despite how strange it may feel. because it's going to feel strange if you've never really experienced it before, and the ego is going to fight because even when it's good, the unknown is still strange and scary. and you never have to be perfect at this to get to experience the things you want, believe it or not. i know that i still have a long way to go on this journey, there may be much more time before i ever get to fully experience the promise in full, but that hasn't stopped me from experiencing the desires of my heart on a daily basis. that's because i used these simple things, these small little flips in how i chose to see life. even if the anxiety never went away, or it was a more difficult day full of tears... this is way more possible for you than you realize. if only you're willing to allow your life to be different than it's always been. just that small allowance, opens up all the doors.
xo dream 🕊
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Text
Love of my life | D.R.
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Daniel Ricciardo x younger!reader
Summary: What happens when you confess your profound love to the person whose heart you broke? How fragile is the hope of reconciliation?
Warnings: comforting angst??? (idk even im in my feels)
Word count: ~1.2K
^^
“Hiding from me?” the velvety voice behind you felt more familiar than you’d like it to.
“Should I?” you turned your eyes away from the dark ocean before you and met his eyes. Gosh he looked handsome and you could feel your body react to him, still the same as it was, gentle shock waves weaving through your fingertips.
“God I hope not…” he sat down beside you on the straw beach furniture. You were trying to keep your gaze on the horizon of the ocean where water seemed to bleed into the dark night sky and become one.
You could hear him take a deep breath, it was shaky and an uncomfortable feeling settled in your gut as if foreseeing that his following words would remind you of something you had been trying to keep buried for the last 5 months.
“I didn’t think I’d see you here tonight…” he spoke out softly, his eyes on your silhouette, encaged by the silver glory of the full moon you looked untouchable. And he knew that you were untouchable to him, no matter how much his palms seemed to have thoughts of their own and wished to just reach out to you, and relish in the touch of your silky skin just like he’d done months ago.
“Why not? You know I didn’t attend all those parties just because of you,” you held your stare stoic, letting yourself get lost in the starry night sky, counting the stars only so you’d hold yourself back from latching on the man sitting beside you.
Nothing could have you forget the day you’d met him. Ironically it was a party that you had only attended because you were dying to catch a glimpse of the charming man that he was. Luckily, at least that’s what you thought at that very moment, you had caught his eye and soon enough you were carrying his heart in your hands and he was carrying yours. Although now after everything, you believe you might have been wrong about the later…
“Y/n… I just want to say-”
“Please don’t say it, don’t apologize again,” you turned to him almost instantly which left him speechless, your eyes sparkling in the moonlight reminiscent of the various jewels he used to clasp around your neck and the supple kisses he’d leave there throughout the day, but the jewels that adorned your eyes now weren’t a consequence of a blissful time together, “I will not hear it again… I do not need to be reminded of that… time”, you lowered your head trying to catch your breath and the lonely tears from falling.
“Baby,” he kept his hands secured in tight fists, too easy to lose control now that he could see tears escaping out of your eyes and cascading down your cheeks. He still remembers the salty streaks from the last time he’d been this close to you. How could he ever forget when the pain he’s been carrying in his chest for so long never denied itself. You had given his heart back to him, but you sure took a piece of it for yourself before that, though how could he blame you when he had done the same… to have the smallest part of you and suffer rather than have no memory of you was and would always be Daniel’s first and only choice.
“Daniel,” your eyes traveled back to his warm eyes, the same one’s that had made you all the promises of a perfect tomorrow. One that never came. One that you still let yourself dream about whenever the air smelled like the cologne you’d gifted him, the one he was still wearing now…
Looking at him you wished you could hate him, you wished to be physically repulsed by the man in front of you, maybe that would help you walk away now and continue living as you once had. Striving for the brightest most delightful future, without looking back at the old dark days, but he has possessed your mind, you can no longer make a step without seeing him there, what if’s about the past clouding your future. How could he sit there and give you those eyes… those gorgeous sad eyes. You bit back your lip. You could no longer kiss his sad eyes and see them light back up after.
“Y/n… you were the love of my life,” he accepts the torture that is to come his way, he knows he deserves it for the crime he just committed. Tears were fully running down your cheeks now, large droplets falling into the sand beneath your feet and disappearing right away, like they were never there…
“Why are you doing this to me, Daniel?” you instinctively covered your face with your palms as sobs made your shoulders tremble, hiding the tears from him even if he’s seen them already. You hated nothing more than for him to see you cry.
“I just… I felt that you had to know, because I never told you how much I actually loved you. I treated you so wrong for a very long time and I am to blame for that… I was the shitty older guy who took advantage of someone who didn’t know what she was doing…”
“That was the problem, Daniel. You always viewed me as a child…I am young, but I am not a kid and I can make decisions for myself. You might regret me, but I know the choices I made and I have no remorse over them,” your heart ached. How unfortunate is it to meet the love of your life and understand that they never truly saw you as their equal.
“The only thing I regret is not doing more to get to know you and… leaving you behind… I was in the wrong, so please do not cry darling…” his voice sounded so different, he was breaking from the inside out seeing you this way. He leaned closer to you, his warm palms encompassing your wrists to reveal your face to him.
Two pairs of teary eyes stared into one another.
The both of you took in a shaky breath in, which finally broke the suffocating tension and helped your lips ease into a simple smile. Daniel wiped at your cheeks, his touch ghostly light, removing the salty puddles, before gracing your forehead with an effortless kiss.
“I’m sorry too, Daniel,” you leaned back just so you could once again let yourself go and drown in his warm eyes, completely forgetting your morals and bringing back the buried feelings you couldn’t not tell him, “You were also the love of my life…”
Now it was Daniel’s turn to let the tears flow. And he did. He wished he had you, all of you, he wished to cry on your shoulder whenever a race went wrong, he wished to have your attentive hands run through his curls and soothe him when the air seemed to get too heavy. Most importantly he wished he had said it sooner, the short ‘L’ word, because if he had, you’d be home, tangled in bed together with big tranquil smiles on your faces.
Instead you two were crying on a beach together, reminiscing on what would have been if it could have been. But it was enough for Daniel, even if he was crying, at the very least he was crying with you… the love of his life…
^^
A.N. loving older men is not a hobby, it's a lifestyle<3
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subjectzero-if · 11 months
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You are subject zero, the rogue Psion. Are you ready to make a stand?
After all, the only thing they fear is you.
Genre: Cyberpunk, dystopia, action, and romance.
DEMO (56K Words) - Chapter 2 Pt 1 released. (Last updated on 9/25/23)
 18+  abuse, violence, death, addiction, explicit sexual themes (optional),explicit language, substance use, morally questionable characters, and more.
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The war has ended, leaving behind an empty canvas of debris.
You thought there'd be peace?
Think again, because this is the future, and it's a nightmare.
In the sprawling megalopolis of Vox City, where towering skyscrapers pierce the sky and grimy slums brim with danger, you're a Psion, a living experiment born from a devastating war.
While your fellow Psions are trapped by the AI echo, their powers silenced, and their minds enslaved, you roam Vox City's streets, inhibiting your powers with neuron blockers.
That is until the day your profession as a mercenary brought you to the brink of death, and your secret was discovered.
With nowhere to hide and half the city on your tail, you find yourself thrust into the middle of turmoil.
What will you fight for? Who will you believe?
Are you ready to show the city what you’re made of?
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Experience life in a dystopian setting where high-tech and low-life merge to give you a futuristic atmosphere. 
Develop your psionic powers, and decide your attitude towards your unique nature. (Positive, negative, or neutral) 
Choose your desired Net-alias, and wage wars on the Net. 
Develop your fighting style, and enhance your body through cybernetic implants. 
Select your weapon from an arsenal of four distinctive options.
Define your goal: pursue freedom, seek vengeance, or strive for ultimate power.
Decide the fate of your kind, and ultimately the city’s. 
Decipher the secrets of your past, 
Form alliances with various factions, or become their enemy.
Customize your name, gender, and appearance, and choose how you interact with the world around you.
Romance or befriend a multitude of characters each with their own goals  You will also have the chance to pursue various flings.
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Ves Chernov (he/him) or (she/her)  -  A government agent always on your tail.
Jax/Jaz Vidal (he/him) or (she/her) - A wastelander who lives outside the city border.
Liam/ Lilia Cain (he/him) or (she/her) - The city mayor’s son/daughter with an agenda of their own.
Robin Hayes (he/him) - A member of a criminal group on a destructive path. 
Tris Mun (she/her) - A viglinate hacker trying to outrun her past. 
FACTIONS - DISTRICTS - PLAYLIST  -  FORUM
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iwashie · 11 months
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𝘽𝙇𝙇𝙆 𝙢𝙚𝙣 𝙬𝙝𝙤 𝙬𝙤𝙪𝙡𝙙 like 𝙖𝙣 𝙤𝙡𝙙𝙚𝙧 𝙬𝙤𝙢𝙖𝙣
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📌, isagi yoichi,  michael kaiser, oliver aiku, bachira meguru, karasu tabito, mikage reo
ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ warnings- some of the boys I think wouldn't mind liking/dating an older woman, about 2/3 years older. (I'm older than most of them, so I needed to do that. I'm 9teen btw)
૮₍˶• . • ⑅₎ა isagi yoichi.
You were the assistant at the football club, a year older when he started high school. It was love at first sight, he couldn't look away when you were helping them, handing out towels, water bottles, explaining a few things about their performance on the field. He confessed when he was about to enter Blue Lock, you thought it was a joke, but the way his eyes sparkled with determination and the tips of his ears burned in a bright red made you believe him, still surprised that someone younger liked you. "please wait for me" he said, holding your hand, "I'll wait so you better be number one!" you said smiling and he couldn't be happier. On the day of entering Blue Lock you two made a pinky promise and kissed it, sealing the promise. You're still waiting for him.
૮₍˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶₎ა bachira meguru.
you helped his mom on exhibition days and he liked you as soon as you two met. he made sure to be around, making you laugh and telling you about his mom, you two soon got along and he wasn't sad that you were two years older, he could make the convenience store aunts fall in love with a smile from him, so he would spare no effort to win you over, with the support of his mother, of course. "we're rooting for you" you said the day he'd walk into Blue Lock, "I know, you're the best" he said hugging you and his mother, before he walked in you kissed his forehead, wishing him all the luck in the world. You both watch bllk tv and don't lose a game, always yelling his name when he scores a goal.
૮₍´˶• ᴥ •˶`₎ა mikage reo.
He always thought older women were cool and when you walked past him, laden with books, the uniform indicating you were older, he was charmed. Football and you were all that came out of his mouth, poor nagi couldn't take it anymore. When he took courage to confess, you said you didn't have time for relationships, your future was more important and it didn't matter how much money he had. The boy fell in love even more and with a lot of patience and determination he made a space for him in your heart. The day he entered Blue Lock, you texted that your life wouldn't stop for anyone so he had better strive to fulfill his dream- you'd be rooting for him-, the boy couldn't have fallen in love with someone better. Even though you said you wouldn't wait for anyone, you always found time to watch him play in Blue Lock.
૮ • ﻌ - ა karasu tabito.
You're friends with his older sister and he's always thought you were cool, molding his ideal type based on you. When he entered high school, he confessed, getting a "you're too young" from you, but he didn't give up, he would make you like him. When he got the letter to enter Blue Lock you were his biggest support, making him fall in love even more. Before he got into Blue Lock, you were starting college and said to him "I'm going ahead, but I'll wait for you, so you better be the best and come looking for me." The boy couldn't have a better motivation, before entering, he stole a kiss from him, saying he was going to be lucky. He still doesn't know that you root for him, watching every game with his family, still waiting for him to leave.
૮₍。 •᎔• 。₎ა michael kaiser.
You're the same age and while he was on the field playing you were there as an intern. He declared himself your boyfriend in an interview before going to Blue Lock, he stated that the next time you met on the field, he would ask you to marry him. You somehow couldn't get the German away, so you accepted it, trying your hardest in college to see him again in the field. You two talked on the phone while he was in Blue Lock, you were about to finish college and watched every game, cheering him on, always texting him before every game. Nothing got Kaiser more excited than knowing that his future wife would be watching him play and interview him after games.
૮・ﻌ・ა oliver aiku.
This man has no preferences, can be young or old, he will accept. He thought he was shameless, until he met you. He's been stood up after the two women found out he was with both of them, you seeing him sitting alone didn't think twice and sat with him, ignoring his surprised face and made the order to the waiter, forcing him to accept the 'date' with you. You asked him a few questions to get to know him better, you both are the same age, and when he asked why you were doing that, you answered "free food" and winked at him, he couldn't believe the audacity of the woman sitting in front of him, but he liked you. At the end of the 'date' he told you why he got stood up and you laughed out loud, saying "I make you better or make you worse" and asked for his phone number. there was something about you that attracted him, and before going back to Blue Lock you two hooked up a few times. Back in Blue Lock, he could only think of when he could meet you again, totally in love. You would watch the bllk tv to understand better what he did and root for him.
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greenboyfriend · 4 months
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choose a... thing! (tarot card reading)
image source "what do you need to know?" spaghetti monster: what is that, pipe cleaner? affixed to some... nuts? hey, don't take that the wrong way. ploom the caterpillar: i don't even have the words to describe this thing. desert rain frog: ">:(" book a reading through dm/ask!
spaghetti monster・。.・゜✭
it's time to stop dwelling on the past! yes, you've probably experienced some sort of heartache, whether that be through betrayal, loneliness, or a bit of both. rest assured, in letting go, you will be off to bigger, and much better things. one of your cards is specific to this deck: the future. this emphasizes that now is THE time to move on! leave what has been hurting you behind-- it's leaving whether you want it to or not. this is a major point in your life, as signified by death and amplified by the future, which can (and will!) heed significant results. the hierophant tells you that the answers you seek will be found through joining with others, most likely an organization of some kind. you must be part of the group, working and striving with others to make the change you seek. heartache doesn't last forever, but what you're about to do with this group will. it's a long road, but at the end of it is happiness, fortune, and abundance abound!!! hey, this is a lot more cheerful than the last one! yahoo!
(the future [from the transient light tarot], 10 of pentacles reversed, the hierophant, 3 of swords reversed, death reversed)
ploom the caterpillar・。.・゜✭
another spread about letting go!!! except this one feels more pertinent. well, let's be real, the last one was pretty dire, too... anyway. my little caterpillars, your cards are less about the past or future, and more about the present. in fact, only about the present! the 10 of wands shows that you've been shouldering too much on your back, likely relating to self consciousness, some sort of inability to say "no", and/or difficulty especially in regards to living in the moment. but here's the thing... you've gotta. the hanged man puts it clearly: in order to get what you want, this situation requires you completely let go of whatever it is you've been holding onto. whether that's how you're being perceived or otherwise, it must be shed. the hanged man is upside down, able to see the world from a completely different perspective. try to change how you see things. live in the present moment and see what you notice; what changes when you give your entire attention to what someone is saying? or the thing you're doing? is everything really as you thought it was after seeing it from this new perspective? however you need to enact this change, the time to strike is right fucking now, baby. the engines are revving and ready to GO!!! don't be scared, what happens next is destiny. o_<~✭
(8 of wands, the hanged man, 10 of wands, the present reversed [from the transient light tarot.])
desert rain frog・。.・゜✭
like those who picked pile 2, the time for movement is NOW, my little froggies! you must declare yourself openly!! you are blessed to have a good head on your shoulders, being intelligent and good at handling authority. however! moving forwards, you will need to learn how to temper this energy (knight of swords). sometimes, this can go too far, where unadulterated words can hurt someone, coming across as blunt. it's true that you do know a lot about the world, but you need to let there be space for others' observations and knowledge. you can't possibly know everything! after making this big declaration, or finding this missing piece of the puzzle, you will get to the heart of the matter, to sift between what is true, what is fake, and to learn what to say-- versus what to definitely not say. a useful asset later on will be using the energy of the queen of cups, which means you must react to others through compassion and kindness, and try to be in tune with their emotional undercurrents. easier said than done, right? however, with the use of your intuition and logic combined, it will be much easier to wade through this future situation. in the meantime, i'd use that talkative knight of swords energy to propel yourself towards... whatever it is you need to propel yourself towards. here's a tip, whenever i feel a lightness in my chest, i know the answer's yes, but a pit in my stomach, be expected to plummet!!!... or, um, "no" would be the answer for that one. good luck! im also getting that some (3?) of you have some sort of.. "telepathic bond." no idea what that means! good luck with that, too, though.
(8 of wands, knight of swords, ace of swords reversed, queen of cups reversed)
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eksvaized · 2 months
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[ Previous ] [ All In One ] part 16, MDNI
this is a looong chapter, but since it’s the last one, I didn’t want to split it into two parts. enjoy!!!
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Simon isn't scared of dying. He has always seen it as a natural part of the life cycle, as constant as the changing of the seasons and as certain as the setting sun. It's an inevitability that he, like every other person, will have to confront sooner or later. The idea of squandering precious time and energy worrying about something from which there is no escape has always seemed utterly pointless to him. But now that the Grim Reaper's cold, skeletal hand was rapping on the door, he found himself, much to his surprise, being swept up by relentless and towering waves of terror that ebbed and flowed but never fully receded. Yet, it's not the fear of his own demise that disturbs him—he doesn't give a damn about himself. His anxiety is rooted in a concern for you. The two of you have just met not so long ago, and the thought of losing you fills him with immense dread. He isn't ready to let you go yet.
For the past several days, Simon hasn't engaged in any of his usual activities. Mostly, he shadows you, his gaze tracing your every move with the piercing scrutiny of an eagle. You, on the other hand, strive to maintain a facade of normalcy, a mask of composure and contentment, as if to reassure him that everything is fine. But Simon has an uncanny knack for perceiving the truth. He is adept at picking up on the subtlest of cues, the faintest hints of lies, and interpreting them accurately. His ability to read between the lines is unparalleled, and it doesn't take him long to realise when you're attempting to fool him. Thus, you stop trying to put up a brave face, realising that it's nearly impossible to hide anything from Simon.
Every night ends with you collapsed in his arms, tears cascading down your face like a relentless waterfall. Simon stays with you, holding you tight until you drift off into a fitful sleep. He strokes your back gently, and twirls strands of your hair between his fingers, while his voice, soft as a lullaby, whispers sweet nothings into your ear in a futile attempt to erase the bitter taste of another dreadful day. His efforts to distract you, though temporary, have some effect. Moments of peace, however, are fleeting. As soon as your gaze falls on the bandaged wound on his arm, the harsh reality pulls you back in, swallowing you whole and making you feel as if you're drowning. Simon, realising the sight of his wound makes you sob each time you see it, starts wearing long-sleeved shirts all the time.
Each dawn is a mirror image of the one before, as indistinguishable as two drops of morning dew. You and Simon sleep in until the late afternoon, neither of you having the energy or will to face the day. Most of your time is spent tangled in the crumpled sheets, talking about anything and everything. You delve into discussions about your lives before the world broke apart, offering glimpses into your pasts. He shares stories about his life before the streets were overrun by the biters, about his friends and his time in the military. In return, you tell him about your carefree childhood and how you had meticulously planned your future.
At first, these conversations provide a welcome respite. They allow you both to escape momentarily from the grim reality waiting beyond the walls of your house. But as the day turns into night, and the conversations continue under the soft glow of the candles, you are both painfully reminded of all you have lost and everything you are about to lose.
"You can't just leave the bed, Y/N," Simon insists with a tone of genuine concern. His hands, warm and firm, rest on your shoulders, pushing you back down onto the soft mattress. His touch, though full of care, is also unyielding. He is fully aware that in your current state of weakness, you are too frail to fight him. "You're sick and you need to rest."
"I don't want to waste the last few days of my life lying in bed," you mumble in response; it's difficult to speak because your throat hurts. He nods, but remains adamant, refusing to let you sit up. His fingers carefully comb through your hair, untangling the knotted strands that frame your fever-flushed cheeks. When you gaze into his eyes, it's like peering into a stormy sea, where waves of pain, fear, and worry relentlessly batter against the rocky cliffs. Until this morning, there had been no signs that you were going to die.
After you and Simon got bitten, both of you had assumed that the disease would cause you to fade away quickly. But luck had given you a little more time than you'd expected, and this is the first time you are forcefully reminded that those terrible bites have serious, actual consequences.
"I'll stay with you," he says. You nod in gratitude, inching closer to the frigid wall as he lays down on the narrow mattress. He carefully draws you into his embrace, pulling the covers over both of you and tucking you in tightly.
A wildfire rages beneath your skin, an agonising inferno that burrows deep into your marrow. Every breath you draw is a struggle, akin to lifting a mountain with every rise and fall of your chest. Keeping your eyes open is a tremendous effort. The slightest shift in your position feels as if your bones are grinding together, an excruciating symphony playing out in your frame. Pain resonates in every corner of your body, screaming its presence into your consciousness. You yearn for a respite from this relentless torment, a sanctuary where you can leave this agony behind. There's only one way to escape this, but you know Simon would never let you choose the easy way out.
"Do you think this is the end for me?" Your voice is barely audible, and Simon must lean in closer, pressing his ear against your lips when you speak so he can catch the faintest hint of your words. Your throat is scratchy and parched, your mouth feels like it's full of bitter, coarse sand. Despite Simon's efforts, urging you to drink water or tepid tea as if they were soothing elixirs, nothing seems to douse the discomfort.
"No, of course not." He shakes his head, his gaze drifting upwards.
This is the first, but not the last, time he lies to you. A tremor runs through his exhale, betraying his internal turmoil. Deep down, buried beneath layers of hope and denial, he knows that the odds of your recovery are slim. The cruel hands of fate are slowly pulling you away from him, threatening to reduce you to a mere whisper, a shadow, a faint echo of your vibrant existence. The thought of a world without your laughter, your warmth, your presence is unbearable. Simon refuses to let the thoughts of you passing away cast their dark, monstrous shadows over his mind right now because he knows they will shatter his heart into a thousand shards; he needs to be strong for you.
"I had convinced myself that death wouldn't come knocking at my door, that I was somehow immune to the bite. Yet now, I'm confronted with the reality that my days are numbered, and the bill is due." Even though exhaustion gnaws at you, stripping away your strength, you keep talking.
Your arms coil his sturdy torso, your hands resting upon the rhythmic rise and fall of his chest. Beneath your fingertips, you sense the reassuring and steady beat of his heart. You rest your head on his shoulder. You are overheating. All you want is some space, to throw off the constricting covers and let the cool breeze wash over your fevered skin. But you can't risk pushing him away. What if that was the last time you got to see and be with Simon? The potential that this may be your final moment enveloped in the secure embrace of his arms terrifies you. You cling tighter to him, refusing to let go.
"You should close your eyes. Rest," he says, after noticing that you are struggling to stay alert.
You resist, your will compelling you to stay awake, to remain present in the moment. But your body betrays you, and the allure of sleep is too potent to ignore, too enticing to resist. His fingers trace a gentle path up and down your side. His touch is as soft as a whisper against your flesh. It's a calming rhythm, a silent promise that he's there, with you, a constant presence in the quiet stillness of the night. Every so often, he dips his head to place a gentle kiss on your forehead; his lips linger there. Before you even realise it, the comforting rhythm of his touch and the gentle cadence of his breathing lull you into a peaceful slumber. And there, in the tranquil silence of the night, you both surrender to the embrace of sleep.
As the first rays of dawn pierce through the thin veil of darkness, your eyes abruptly shoot open in response to an overwhelming sensation. It feels as though every fibre of your being is under siege, a relentless assault that leaves no corner of your flesh untouched. The pain is so intense, so all-consuming, that it feels like every bone in your body is breaking into a thousand fragments and then reforming, only to shatter again in a relentless cycle of torment. Your head is spinning, caught in a stormy whirlpool of confusion and disorientation. Your vision is fuzzy. The world around you fades in and out, like a badly tuned television set.
You turn your gaze to the side. Simon, unaware of your internal struggle, is still fast asleep. His calm, rhythmic breathing provides a stark contrast to your own laboured gasps, each one sounding like a desperate plea escaping your parched lips. Despite the turmoil churning within you, part of you is flooded with relief that he's finally getting some much-needed rest. He has been plagued with insomnia for the past few days. And now that he finally has the opportunity to rest his weary eyes, you refuse to be the one to disrupt his peaceful slumber. Your own discomfort, no matter how unbearable, will have to wait.
In a hazy state of drowsiness, you attempt to roll out of bed with all the grace of a newborn foal, taking extra care to not generate too much noise that might disturb Simon's sleep. You leave the bedroom. You don't know where you are going or what you want to do, but your feet guide you, leading you down the creaking staircase.
A nagging dryness persists in your throat. So, you look around for something to quench your thirst. As you enter the living room, your eyes catch sight of a water bottle perched precariously on the edge of the coffee table. You slowly lean down to grab it, your movements sluggish and uncoordinated. Suddenly, your legs give way beneath you, buckling under the strain of your own weight. With a gasp, you topple over, your surroundings tilting on its axis. The sharp edge of the table corner comes into contact with your head with a sickening thud, and your vision blurs. Before you can even register what has happened, everything goes black, and you lose consciousness.
Simon, after a few restless hours of sleep, wakes up. He is surprised, almost shocked, when he notices the conspicuous emptiness of the cold bed. He calls out your name into the quiet room, his voice rebounding off the walls like a lone echo in a cavern. But he only receives a faint pitter-patter of footsteps from downstairs in response. His heart constricts with the cold grip of fear, like a vice around his chest. A thought, as unsettling as a crow cawing in the dead of night, crosses his mind. What if you got hurt while he was sleeping? He berates himself for his momentary lapse, for allowing himself to close his eyes.
Springing from the bed like a startled hare, he dashes downstairs, his feet skimming the steps. When he finally finds you, you are standing alone in the kitchen. Your back is turned towards him, your silhouette is etched against the pallid morning light as you gaze out of the window in a daze. Your body sways slightly, a clear sign that you are struggling to keep your balance, to resist the pull of gravity. It is evident that your fever has escalated.
"You should be in bed," he says, exhaling a sigh of relief. His worst fears, previously pounding in his chest like a wild drum, are assuaged as he looks at you. Given the circumstances, you look relatively fine.
You say nothing, though.
"Come on, let's go." He takes a step closer and tugs at your hand. To his astonishment, your temperature has gone down. Your skin, which was previously radiating with a burning heat, is now strikingly cold, almost icy to the touch.
As he stands there, his mind a whirlwind of thoughts, he grapples with the enigma of how you seemingly outwitted the fever without a trace of medication. It is perplexing, to say the least. As you slowly pivot, he drags his gaze away from your interlaced fingers and looks at your face. He stumbles back, gripping the edge of the counter when he realises... you are dead.
Your eyes, a haunting shade of pale grey, are devoid of any discernible emotion. Your face is eerily expressionless. The side of your head is smeared with crimson blood, contrasting sharply with your pale skin. The slow, deliberate movement of your jaw is the only sign of animation - opening and closing in a rhythmic pattern, your teeth clashing together with a harsh, metallic sound. Your movements, though delayed and sluggish, have a predatory quality about them. It is as if every single motion is calculated, deliberate, and incredibly menacing. Then, in a matter of mere seconds, you spring into action. With the agility of a panther, you pounce on him, a guttural growl escaping your lips that reverberates in the stillness.
Your fingers wrap around his wrist, and your nails pierce his flesh. Simon's eyes widen as he watches your body thrashing violently, as you try to sink your teeth into him. He freezes for a split second. But then his instincts take over, and he drives his knee into your stomach, propelling you to the side and causing you to collide with the fridge. After regaining his composure, he dashes around the counter.
His gaze sweeps across the kitchen, desperately searching for something, anything, with a sharp edge. You are already limping towards him when he grabs the knife. His arm raises. The glint of the blade reflects in his wide, terrified eyes. His grip tightens around the wooden handle. But when it's time to strike, he hesitates, his resolve melting like a candle in the scorching sun, and he cannot follow through. Killing you, even if you are already dead, is something he refuses to do. Simon recoils with a sudden jerk, his eyes locked onto yours. The knife clatters to the ground. He turns on his heels, the noise of his boots on the tile floor ringing out like a hollow drumbeat as he flees the kitchen. In a move borne out of sheer desperation, he grabs the nearest piece of furniture - a heavy oak table - and heaves it against the door, turning it into an impromptu barricade to keep you at bay.
For the rest of the day, he sequesters himself away within the confines of your bedroom. The room acts as a sanctuary, a place that diligently preserves your memory. Each item, each piece of furniture, even the air itself, seems steeped in your essence. Methodically, almost ritualistically, he navigates through your stuff... Simon looks at your pictures and uncaps your perfume, letting the scent permeate the space. His thoughts, like leaves caught in a whirlpool, inevitably drift back to the previous night, replaying it in his mind like a film reel with vivid clarity. The sobering realisation dawns upon him that those fleeting hours yesterday were the final ones that you two have shared together.
You become the only thought that occupies his mind, a constant, unyielding presence that leaves no room for anything else. The world outside ceases to exist; all that remains is you, the memory of you, like a haunting melody echoing in an empty hall. When the weight of the world, heavy as a millstone, becomes too overwhelming for him to carry any longer, his emotions take control. Overwhelmed by grief and frustration, he starts wrecking the room. It's a physical manifestation of his internal turmoil. Simon berates himself, the self-loathing growing with each passing moment, spreading like wildfire in a dry field. He despises the fact that he could not save you from your fate. But of all the regrets, one stands out in stark contrast: he had never voiced his true feelings for you. You died without knowing that he loved you.
After an extended period of causing chaos and disorder, akin to a storm ravaging a once peaceful landscape, he finds himself entirely depleted, a hollow shell echoing with an emptiness inside. Every fibre in his body feels numb, devoid of any sensation. He curls on the bed. The sheets, though devoid of your warmth, still carry the familiar scent of you. As Simon shuts his eyes, he can hear the faint echo of footsteps downstairs. Even though he is aware you are no longer alive, knowing that you are still in this house, with him, makes him calm down and fall asleep.
When he awakes the following morning, he is greeted with the unwelcome sensation of a fever. His body feels hot, and every move is a struggle.
The following three days, he spends in bed, trapped in the prison of his own thoughts.
On the fifth day, as he closes his eyes one final time, the grim serenity of death descends upon him, wrapping him in its stiff embrace.
On the sixth day, you and Simon are dead, roaming in the empty house. And even though you both are just a few steps away from each other - since Simon barricaded the kitchen - he and you never cross paths ever again.
TAG LIST: @randointhecloset, @lurkinwbreexy, @breadpitt69 , @browtfyoudoing , @yelenassafeplace, @itsthealice, @naxxsstuff, @lotionlamp, @aquarianix well, this is finished, fi-na-lly, haha. I’d love to know what you think about it. :) aannd, I hope you had as much fun reading the story as I did writing it!
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nasa · 2 years
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NASA Photographers Share Their #NASAMoonSnap
We’re getting ready to launch Artemis I, the first test flight of the rocket and spacecraft that will take future astronauts to the Moon! As we prepare for the lunar voyage of the Space Launch System (SLS) rocket and Orion spacecraft launching as early as Aug. 29, 2022, we would like you to share your excitement with us. Share all types of Moon-inspired content with us with the hashtag #NASAMoonSnap, and we will choose some entries to share on our social media platforms and during the launch broadcast. Get creative! We’re looking for Moon paintings, Moon poetry, Moon pottery, Moon latte foam art — the sky is not the limit.
Since we have the full Moon coming up on Aug. 11, we wanted to share our handy dandy Moon photography guide and inspire you with some of our NASA imagery experts’ stories on capturing the Moon.
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"The first rollout of the SLS rocket with the Orion spacecraft aboard was a really exciting moment to capture. I was photographing at Kennedy Space Center in an area where many of the employees that had worked on different parts of the SLS were watching. It was so great to hear some of their stories and see their pride in helping to build this amazing rocket and spacecraft. Once the mobile launcher with SLS passed the crowds to head toward the launchpad, people began to line up in their cars to leave. I decided to stick around and try to get a closer image of the Moon with SLS. It was fairly dark by the time I made this image, so there isn’t any detail in the moon, but it’s still moving to see them next to one another and know that SLS will be closer to the Moon than Earth very soon, and will one day enable humans to land on the lunar surface again!" — Aubrey Gemignani, NASA contract Photo Archivist/Photographer, NASA Headquarters
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“I set up this shot when I saw the Moon was lined up perfectly with the X-1E in front of the main entrance to Armstrong Flight Research Center one morning last year. What captured my eye about this scene was that it showcased the past and the future of NASA in one image. The X-1 was a key piece of early NACA/NASA history, and it is pointing to the Moon showing us where we are going next with Artemis. I still remember walking around on my first day at NASA and seeing all the places where history was made. I was in awe as I walked these hallowed grounds. I know that there is still a great deal of history to be written here as we strive to go higher, further and faster and I’m glad that I get to be here to document it.” — Joshua Fisher, Photographer, NASA’s Armstrong Flight Research Center
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“While out capturing images of the Moon, the memories of my first day as a photographer for NASA came flooding back. One of my first memories is going to the exhibits department and getting to hold an actual Moon rock sample. That day changed my perception of the Moon forever. That moment made the Moon more than just something in the sky. It became tangible and real, and my part in all of this became clear. The honor and privilege I feel everyday is overwhelming.” — Jef Janis, Still Imaging Specialist, NASA’s Glenn Research Center
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“When I can, I like my Moon photos to have a sense of place. The trick is finding a shooting position and a landmark that will fit in with the Moon’s very stringent plans for rising. I went out to shoot the Sturgeon Moon, which was also a rare blue moon, last August. As I was shooting the moonrise from the riverbank in downtown New Orleans, I was lucky to have one of the city’s iconic riverboats turn a bend and head upriver to pass beneath the Moon. Happily the river was low and I was able to scramble down the high bank to reduce the vertical distance between the quickly rising moon and the slowly passing riverboat.” — Michael DeMocker, Photographer, NASA’s Michoud Assembly Facility
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“I was excited to try to capture a waning crescent Moon at dawn, even though it was late February, 20 degrees Fahrenheit and 6:30 in the morning…Nonetheless, I decided to photograph on-site at Lewis Field, and ended up using my telephoto lens to really zoom in on the Moon. In a race against the sunrise and the Moon disappearing, I was able to capture a cool shot of the Moon with a couple planes making an appearance as well (The Cleveland Hopkins Airport is right next door). Although is it me, or does one of the planes look like a rocket taking off…?” — Jordan Salkin, Scientific Imaging Specialist, NASA’s Glenn Research Center
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“I have worked at NASA’s Glenn Research Center since 1990 and have enjoyed every second doing what I do to support NASA’s mission. On my first day back to work onsite after 22 months of telework I saw this beautiful sunrise with the snow, the Moon, and the hangar. It felt good to be at work seeing the landscape I was so used to seeing. I had to take these pictures to share with my colleagues. ” — Jeffrey F. Abbott, Media Support Specialist, NASA’s Glenn Research Center 
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“In creating this Moon image, I almost felt pressured to find the ‘perfect location.’ The more that I thought about that prospect, the more I was drawn to using only natural elements, in my own environment. I wanted to find an image in my own backyard. This image was captured just as the Sun dropped below the horizon. I had a very short window of time when these colors would be possible. Two minutes earlier or later would have produced a totally different image. The almost abstract lines of a Maple tree in the earliest stages of budding seemed to be in concert with the waxing crescent Moon, both preparing for full bloom. Nature on display in its simplicity.” — Marvin Smith, Still Imaging Specialist Lead, NASA’s Glenn Research Center
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“The lighthouse in Lorain, Ohio, has been photographed by amateur and professional photographers for decades, but I have never photographed it before. When I calculated that the path of the Moon was going to go over and past the lighthouse with a reflection over the water, I decided to give it a try. I encountered four other photographers on the same pier with me that early morning. They were huddled in the middle of the pier and I was at the end. I think I got the best photo.” — Quentin Schwinn, Scientific Photographer, NASA’s Glenn Research Center
Make sure to follow us on Tumblr for your regular dose of space!
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ikarasu · 4 months
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👑123123👑
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Slightly Yandere Puppet Romeo x reader
Word count: 813
👑~⚜️~👑~⚜️👑~⚜️~👑~⚜️~👑~⚜️~👑~⚜️~👑
‘1 2 3 1 2 3 1 2 3…3?’
The number 3… it reminds me of sweet innocent days back at the Monad Charity House. Three innocent children who were nonetheless wiser of what was in store for them in the future. Their innocence is sweet but short like the nectar of honeysuckles. Three share the same dream of becoming something great. Nothing but sunny days and laughter shared amongst friends. Such sweet and happy times, but it’s short-lived for death was about to strike.
The number 2… I remember the day our trio was cut down to a duo. The skies couldn’t compare to the two souls who weep over a grave. They wept and spent countless nights with whispered regrets. The two wished to strive to do more in the name of their lost friend. As time progressed the duo turned into a couple. Their love reminds them of those innocent days. They would dance late into the night as they held each other so closely. How naive of them to believe that the dance would never end.
The number 1… Shouting was all that could be heard in the room. One wishes to leave the city of Krat once and for all like a coward. While one wishes to become the greatest protector, but at the cost of his humanity. Eventually, the argument concludes with one storming out and leaving the other heartbroken. They sit all alone in their tears with their shattered heart.
👑~⚜️~👑~⚜️~👑~⚜️~👑~⚜️~👑~⚜️~👑~⚜️~👑
*thump*… *thump*… *thump*…
I don’t bother to look behind me. I know it’s there… Those glowing blue glass eyes and that carved smile. The loud creaks and ticks of metal and gears settle down. I learned to not cover my ears whenever it decides to talk to appease it. The loud static was piercing and indecipherable. The cage it keeps me in is spun around so that I’m forced to look at it. I slowly look up to see its gaze. That sickening smile makes my stomach churn. It opens the cage and brings a large finger to stroke my cheek. I have to resist flinching away from his touch to not anger it. Suddenly it’s grabbing at me and pulling me out of the cage. I struggle against its cold iron grip before it settles me down on the floor of the opera hall.
“What is the meaning of this?” I say while brushing off my clothes
All I am met with is the hissing of a hatch being opened. I turn and see the chest of the King of Puppets opened. A large figure gracefully jumps out and lands in front of me. It sickens me to see the same face I fell in love with on this automaton. The sounds of its metallic feet clank against the marble floor. I take a step back only for it to grab my wrist. It towers over me while staring at me blankly.
“(Name)”
I freeze. It couldn’t be… Staticky and crackled but a voice so familiar. The last time you heard that voice it was through shouts and harsh words. A cold metallic hand meets your cheek and wipes away the tears you didn’t even realize were falling. My heart is beating erratically and I feel like I’m drowning.
“1 2 3… 1 2 3…”
I listen to the numbers and try to inhale and exhale with it.
“1 2 3.. 1 2 3…”
‘Inhale… exhale…’
A hand falls to my waist and another holds my hand.
“1 2 3.. 1 2 3.. 1 2 3..”
He counts faster as he leads my body to follow his.
“1 2 3 1 2 3 1 2 3 3”
Suddenly we’re moving across the marble floor of the opera house. Motions I thought were lost to the past. I look up at his face and I remember those late nights we would dance. The way he’d hold me so tenderly and lovingly. Almost made me believe everything would be okay. I hadn’t even noticed the music that started playing behind us. All I could think of was how much I missed this. He dips me as the music comes to an end and I can’t help but melt.
“Romeo-“
*CRASH*
Suddenly I remember that this isn’t right. Romeo is gone. I push away as the crashing noises get louder. I look towards the door for a split second before looking back at it. By the time I do, it’s already back in its suit and it grabs me once more. I thrash against its grip before being placed back into the cage. It picks up the cage and hides me above the stage. The crashing stops near the door. I watch the large puppet hide above as the curtain to the stage opens up. The doors open and my heart stops.
“Carlo?”
👑~⚜️~👑~⚜️~👑~⚜️~👑~⚜️~👑~⚜️~👑~⚜️~👑
Notes: I don’t usually write but I hope you all enjoyed this.
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lightlycareless · 7 days
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call this the unofficial ending of my highschool series a.k.a what would happen on the last day of their studies lol it doesn't mean I'm going to stop writing about this au, I just wanted to set this down :>
warnings: fluff. naoya is emotional. he's matured I guess.
happy reading!
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You knew this day was coming; every student knew so, strived for it since enrolling. Continuously prickling at the back of their minds as schooldays went by, attending class after class, preparing for exam after exam, to one day leave all this behind.
But just because everyone expected it, didn’t mean you’d share the same sentiment.
At least not when… Naoya was the first one to do so.
Naturally, Naoya being a year older meant that he got to experience lots of things before you academically speaking, such as the famed exchange events, school trips to various cursed energy infected areas, his very own first mission as a sorcerer! And of course…
Graduation.
In just a matter of weeks, Naoya will be leaving jujutsu high, go back to his home city in Kyoto and start his new life as a sorcerer.
In other words, you’ll stop seeing him.
At least as frequently as you did; you still hoped to keep in contact with your boyfriend even after he graduated.
But the lapse between his departure and the moment you’ll be able to see him again was difficult fathom, giving you so much pain… it almost felt like he was leaving you for good.
You tried to act like it didn’t affect you, remember that you knew this was bound to happen (with you as well, in due time) and be greatly supportive of his future endeavors—but it was far too emotionally demanding for you, and it wouldn’t take long before your usually cheerful, silly attitude began to dim, quieting down to the point everyone could no longer ignore it.
Especially, your boyfriend.
“You’ve been awfully quiet, Y/N.” Naoya would finally confront; he thought that by treating you to your favorite café, followed by a fun evening at the arcade, would distract you. It sure helped him to do so, nothing but overworked and stressed for preparing everything for his graduation and following responsibilities as a new sorcerer, both for the community and his clan.
But what’s the purpose in him being happy, if you’re being absolutely miserable?
“Oh, I’m just—I was just thinking about something, that’s all.” You lie, and Naoya notices such immediately.
“I thought we were past lying.” He frowns, you sigh.
“…I wasn’t… not entirely.” You admit.
“What’s wrong?” Naoya asks, eyes softening. “Did I do something wrong?”
“Why do you always assume it has something to do with you?” You chuckle. “I mean, it has but… not like that.”
“What is it, then?”
Upon taking a deep breath, you suddenly realize the tears pooling around your eyes, evidence of how much this emotional turmoil was really hurting you; but even then, you do your best to hold them back, appear confident, before continuing speaking.
“It’s—It’s your graduation.” You quavered. “How it’s just a few days away.”
Naoya doesn’t need to hear much beyond that to know exactly what you’re referring to.
“I’m not excited about it either.” Your boyfriend confesses. “But it’s not like I’m not going to talk to you anymore after I leave.”
“…How do you know that?” an unspoken insecurity reveals itself.
“Are you serious, Y/N?” he retorts, offended—hurt.
“I’m sorry.”
Naoya sighs.
“I’m going to miss you, a lot.” He continues. “You were the only one that made my days bearable, I can’t imagine you not in my life anymore.”
“…What’s going to happen after you leave?” you dared ask.
“I’m going to return to Kyoto, start my work there. Probably take on more responsibilities as the heir now that I’m officially a sorcerer…”
“It sounds like you’re going to be busy.” And thus, unavailable. Just one of the worst-case scenarios you imagined…
“Nothing a few visits to Tokyo can’t fix.” He attempts to reassure you by wrapping his arms around you and hugging you, you sigh.
“When are you even going to have the time for that?” You fret.
“I’ll manage. I always do, don’t I?” Naoya smirks, and you let out a breathy chuckle; there’s no doubt in your mind of his capabilities. “Let’s not think about that, my love. Instead, why don’t we make the best of these last moments we have together? I wouldn’t want the last days with my princess to be all gloomy.”
But of course, that was always easier said than done, for whenever the two were together, partaking in the usual activities they liked to do between classes or the weekends, you couldn’t help but somberly note…
“This is probably the last time we’re going to do this.”
From watching the cherry blossoms, sneaking to his dorm (or vice versa) to watch a movie, eat lunch together, or slipping a kiss here and there, careful enough to not be seen by a fellow (irritating) classmate, yet desperate enough to let the other know how much they wanted to be together…
All of those things will be gone in a matter of days, and there was nothing you could do to stop it.
No amount of reassurance, promises, or reminders that your relationship with him wasn’t over, just his constant presence around you… could ease the sorrow in your heart.
Unless there was one last thing to be considered, Naoya’s conclusion to the whole matter, at first an effort to leave everything in order, comfort your emotions before departing, eventually becoming his biggest desire one realizing the depths of this new, necessary step for this relationship.
It would happen on the day of his graduation, after the ceremony where all students would be celebrated for their academic efforts, wishes for a flourishing career, amongst other peculiarities, whether for good or for worse—depending on who they referred to.
You’d watch the whole ordeal, as expected, cheering for Naoya the moment he stepped into the podium to receive his diploma; and while you were still sad that he won’t be around as often, that didn’t stop you from feeling happy, proud to see him recognized as the accomplishing sorcerer you knew he was always meant to be, eager to see where the future takes him.
Even if it meant being on the other side of the country.
“So… how does it feel?” you murmur, meeting up with Naoya in one of your usual spots, just behind the administrative building, after the ceremony was over. “You know, officially being a sorcerer and all that…”
“It kind of feels the same.” Naoya pouts, cheeks slightly flustered. He always liked the recognition you gave him. “If anything, it’s a bit more liberating. Feels like I can do anything now.”
You chuckle, glad that he’s feeling confident.
“But I guess it also comes with more responsibilities.” He groans. “Like I didn’t have enough already.”
“Well, it’s just a step closer to becoming heir.” You attempt to encourage him, and it works for a bit, given the way he smiles, softly taking your hands and squeezing them.
After a few moments of silence, you speak again.
“When… when are you leaving?”
“Today, later in the afternoon.” Naoya sadly admits. “After I pick up all my things—I’ve already got the plane ticket as well.”
“Oh.” You looked away, disappointed, as if hoping he’d magically postponed his departure for another day. Or never. “I guess… I won’t see you tomorrow anymore.”
“I should be at the estate by then.”
“I see…”
Naoya frowns at the same time his heart tightens.
“I’m going to miss you so much, Naoya.” You say, wrapping your arms around him and leaning into his chest. “Be sure to call me whenever you can!”
Telling him this is the right moment.
“I will, but before I do that… I wanted to give you something to remember me by.”
Your eyes widen, glistening at the prospect behind his words.
“Are you going to give me your button?” you chirped. “…I hope so. You better not be giving it to anyone else!”
“Like who?” He chuckles. “You know there’s no one else for me but you.”
You blush.
“Either way” Naoya flusters, looking away. “…that’s not what I wanted to give you. I mean—something else besides that.”
“Oh” you blink. “Something… more?”
Naoya nods as he swallows, face turning hotter as he swiftly shoves his hand onto his left pocket and takes out a small black box. Your eyes widen, agitated as the assumptions of what could be inside the container begun to flash across your mind—heart skipping a beat when settling on that one.
Coincidentally, the right one.
“Naoya—” you breathe when he finally opens the box, revealing a thin gold band, incrusted with small diamonds—the epitome of luxury, yet dedication, a sight that almost made you faint, barely remaining conscious through sheer curiosity, or more like expectancy.
“Y/N” he says, gently grabbing your left hand and sliding the ring onto your finger. And while the sensation of the metal sliding against your skin couldn’t be anything less than simple, mundane even, its significance was what allowed your mind to imprint the feeling on your senses, to remain in your heart for the rest of your life.
Just like your feelings for him.
“I enrolled at this school because I wanted to try something different; stray away from the boring traditions of my family, or maybe because I wanted to prove myself capable of being more than what the clan thought of me.” Naoya begins. “However, it wouldn’t take long before I grew disillusioned by it, tired of the stupidities of my classmates and teachers alike. And yet… no matter how much I wanted to walk away, there was always something telling me to stay. To hold on a little longer.
The answer eluded me for the longest, until I finally figured it out.
Fate was telling me to wait, because I was meant to meet you.
These past few years are easily the best ones I’ve had in my life. And while I’m still young, I can easily say that you’ve taught me so much, far more than I might ever amount.
I never thought myself capable of feeling such happiness, love, or even deserving of it, until you came along.
And now, I can’t imagine a life without you. I don’t want to. I need you.
It’s because of that, I’ve decided to do this.
With this ring, Y/N, I promise to always be by your side, regardless of what happens in the future. If I’m on the other side of the country, if we hadn’t seen each other for days, weeks even, or… you’re no longer here.
My heart solely belongs to you, and there’s nothing that would make me happier than to spend the rest of my life with you.”
“Naoya—are you—are you asking me to—” you breathe; is this truly happening?!
“No.” he says, before looking away and stammering. “I mean—I—I would like that further down the road…but, when you’re ready too. For now, I’d like you to have this ring, as a reminder of my love and commitment to you. And when the time is right…  something—something more.”
“This is—This is much better than that silly button.” You sniffle, tears sliding down your cheeks as you smile.
“You can have that too.” Naoya smiles. “I just wanted you to also have this; thought it’d be nicer.”
“It is.” You giggle, caressing the thin band on your finger and admiring the way it sparkled against the light; Naoya never spared luxuries when it came to you, to the point it almost made you feel undeserving…
But at this moment, you couldn’t dwell on those feelings. Not when you could instead relish in Naoya’s love for you, your love for him.
How it all started with a simple allure, intrigue to know more of the mysterious, a bit aloof heir of the Zen’in.
The kid that always appeared to have a problem with the world, yet something in your heart told you there was more than what met the eye. That he was not the troublesome young man everyone painted him to be, asked you to be away from.
Had you known then that you’d end up being in a relationship with him, you wouldn’t believe it. Maybe even believed it impossible…
But looking at how you felt towards him back then… it made sense. Perhaps you already knew, always did, deep inside you, on a very subconscious level, that he was meant to be your soulmate.
It’s what allowed you to see beyond the surface, understand him, made you fall in love with him…
And what once represented something so painful, the seeming absence and perhaps rift in your relationship, now gave you hope for something greater, far more beautiful: the promise that the two will always be together, long past the time the two were at school, and into what both hoped a home, a family.
Reaffirmed with a simple phrase.
“I love you, Naoya.”
Naoya smiles, taking your lips with a soft kiss.
“I love you too, Y/N.”
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If we got the valentine's day naoya, he would've 100% asked you to marry him lol but since this is a bit more mature naoya, the one that got to mature with you... he's a bit more sensitive :>
Also, because he wants to buy a house for the two to live in. He's wholly committed to fulfill his responsibilities as your husband, meaning: everything you need to live comfortably, like a house with as many rooms (he wants kids so at least an extra two), gardens, pools, idk, that you want, a car, money, and of course, the freedom of not having to work. Unless you want it, but he'll feel a thousand times happier (and calm) that you aren't. We'll iron out the details later.
Anyways, 🥺 I don't know what else to say, Naoya at that point has fallen in love and wants to live the rest of his life with you. asjklasgkljasgklagslkagsgas the ultimate ending for all slice of life needs between our favorite couple.
Well, off I go to do other things.... mainly finishing more requests haha.
Thank you for reading, take care!! and hope to see you soon ❤️❤️❤️
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queenscodex · 2 years
Note
First talk about the future with Riddle & Silver?
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First talk about the future
Charatcers: Riddle, Malleus, Lilia, Silver
- Gender Neutral Reader
- Scenario
700 Followers Event
I wrote this during my small break when I was recovering from being sick. So if these seem bad, I apologize for that, I wasn't in the best state while writing
-
Riddle Rosehearts
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Riddle had a broad layout of the future, mainly having goals to strive Heartslabyul forward and graduate as its dorm head. Afterwards he would pursue a career in medicine and healing just like his mother has before him. That was his goal for as long as he could remember. However there was one factor he had failed to consider. Romance.
The mere thought of it made his cheeks tint a certain color of red and very quickly he would shake the feeling away. Although he was now in a relationship, he would strayed away from the topic, his main goal remaining unchanged. But you were curious and the question would tug at your lips in anticipation.
" What do you think our future will be like?" The question rolled off your lips with no hesitation. Riddle on the other hand felt his grip on the pen tightened, the black inked letters coming to an abrupt stop.
" Our future?" He would repeat, his mind still registering the question.
" Do you… do you think we'll still be together after graduation?"
" Is there a reason we wouldn't? I do hope we remain close." He answered, glancing over his shoulder to meet your gaze. You looked uncertain. Something else was bothering you. Pursing his lips together, Riddle shifted in the chair he sat on so that his body was facing yours. " Is something the matter?"
Your eyes gave a flicker of nervousness. " What if your mother drives us apart? Or if something else happens?" You muttered with a sigh. Riddle felt himself wince at the question. Although he wasn't one to dwell on the future often, the day he introduced you to his mother has poked at him a few times. It was these things that left him uncertain, he was unsure what would happen when that day came. Knowing his mother, she will surely find something she despises about you.
Hesitantly he sat beside you, taking your hand with his. " We'll deal with that when it happens. But-but no matter what my mother says, I will not allow her to come between us."
Such a sentence wouldn't have escaped him had it been just a few months prior- at that time, Riddle played everything based on his mother's ruling. Had she disapproved of the slightest thing, he would have made haste to alter it for her liking. However that was the past, he was free to make his own decisions now.
There was a prolonged pause after that, only the silence replied.
" I want to be part of your future, regardless of what happens." You confessed, snapping Riddle from his thoughts. He could only blush, his eyes darting to your intertwined hand. The idea of having someone, a true friend and a partner at that, became somewhat of a craving. A new dream entered his mind, one painted in various colors leaving a yearning feeling in its place. Sheepishly he mumbled something under his breath, a small smile ecliting on his face as he spoke those words.
"So do I."
-
Malleus Draconia
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Malleus often caught himself staring off into the sky, a dozen thoughts running through his head. Though he considered himself to be a grounded individual, not lingering too long on the possibilities of the future; there were times he allowed himself to slip for just a few seconds. He was well aware of what his future stood like. He was the prince of Briar Valley and that opened up a dozen scenarios to play out in his head. What made him more curious was how that future would play out with his partner.
" Our future?" You repeated back to him, his question echoing in your head. Malleus only hummed in response, his fingers carding through your hair as you cuddled beside him. It was late in the night and many had gone to sleep, you were planning to do the same until Malleus had posed the question of the future.
You'd be lying if you said you haven't thought about it once. There were so many possibilities that it made your head ache. " Well, I have thought of it on some occasions." You mumbled back with a tap to your chin. " Why do you ask?"
Malleus chuckled almost as though he was bashful about something. " I became intrigued by what may happen once we graduate. As you know I am heir to the Briar Valley throne." He paused.
Your eyes widen at the mention of his kingdom. You've heard him speak of his home with admiration and fondness and you were no stranger to his status of being a prince either- you have considered what the future may bring with his status and all.
" I can't help but wonder what it will be like to have you as my king/queen/spouse." His hands went to trial against your cheek softly, an image flickering in his head. That caused him to smile as it played out, his heart yearning for that fantasy to come true.
Meanwhile, your face became unbearably hot both from both his words and his touches. You haven't spoken about this prior to now, but it was a curiosity that you thought would only live out in your dreams. Hearing those words his mouth was different. It was real.
" Royalty, huh? Thinking about it makes me dizzy. I don't think I'm fit for such a role." You stared at the fae, insecurities starting to sweep over you. Being a ruler was a serious role, one you were unsure of taking. " I doubt your people will like me, with the exception of Lilia of course." You concealed your wince with a forced chuckle, a poor attempt at masking a pit of anguish.
" I doubt I'm even the best choice for you." You finally confessed
The fae hushed all your worries with a kiss to your forehead. " That outcome is still far from occurring, my people will come to love you in due time. And do not doubt yourself about 'not being the best choice for me,' I hold love for you for many reasons. I wish you saw that." He placed another kiss on your forehead, sealing all your doubts away with a single peck.
Malleus suddenly paused an idea forming in his mind. Before you could question him, he was already in the process of helping you out of bed and led you to the nearby balcony. " Malleus-?" You stuttered out as you rushed behind him.
His eyes were gazing at the night sky; it was washed over in a dark blue hue drizzled in specks of stars as though it was the most captivating thing ever. You both sat in silence for a few minutes, wondering what was going through his head.
" I always came to watch stars on my own." He started, turning his gaze to look at you, noting how you looked bathing in the moon's crystal rays. Although the night sky may have captured his attention, you somehow always found a way to reclaim it. " I want to share this sight with you forever. And while you may be uncertain about being my partner." He paused again, his heart fluttering as he carefully picked out his next words.
" I wish for nothing more than to spend my future with you by my side, gazing at the stars every night."
-
Lilia Vanrouge
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Lilia has accustomed himself to adapting to the changes brought with each passing day. He was no stranger to it by any means; thanks to his longevity, he has witnessed more things than humans can in their lifetime.
But oh but he knew he was digging up a pit of anguish when he agreed to being in a relationship with you. He was well aware what would happen if he took a human as his lover. The terrible loss and heartache he will experience because of their short lifespan compared to his. As much as he tried to fight against that undesired outcome he knew one day he would have to address it and worse, live through it.
But in the meantime, Lilia resorted to keeping a fun and calm facade, easily fooling those around him of worries. With a simple flash of his teasing smile anyone could easily be fooled.
You on the other hand couldn't turn a blind eye on the topic as much as you wished. You were aware of both your lifespan and his. It left you with many questions, ones you think would be better left unanswered but your curiosity slipped into the realm of possibilities. It was only a matter of time until you posed the question.
Lilia could feel his breath hitch in his throat as you stood in front of him. Your body language was easy to read like an open book: uncertainty scribbled all over you in bold lettering. Your fingers fumbled over your digits and you averted your gaze away from his. He also did not fail to notice how your lip quivered as new thoughts intruded your brain.
Then came the shaky voice.
" Will-will you still love me when I'm old and wrinkly?" The question came out more like a choke as you tried to hold a straight face- still you didn't have the strength to meet his eyes. Lilia on the other hand felt his throat go dry, his smile faltering.
Yes that Lilia, the very same person who would flick at your forehead to get your attention or pinch your cheeks to eclict giggles from you. The same cheerful person who was now rendered into a blob of incoherent thoughts with pangs of sorrow striking his chest without mercy.
After a few passing seconds he finally took a step towards you. Gingerly, he took your vacant hand with his, curving his fingers to mold into the free spaces of your palm.
" My dear, I would continue to love you regardless." He responded hesitantly. His thumbs rubbed circular motions on your knuckles while he forced a grin on his face. " My love for you will remain unchanged. I will kiss every wrinkle and brush every white hair, when that time comes." That made your lips twitch upwards a bit.
The sight of your smile, although meek and small compared to your others, lifted the fae's spirits just a bit. Still, the pang in his heart was left unwavered, locked in place by his emotions- though he was easily able to conceal this with a forced smile. He gave your hand a light squeeze before bringing it to his face, cradling the palm as though made of porcelain. Gently, he pressed a fleeting kiss to one of the knuckles. For a split second you saw his brows scrunch together as he pulled away but quickly his features were reverted back to their natural state.
" Let's not dwindle on the future, my dear. Not while we still have the present in front of us."
-
Silver
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Silver had always believed that he only had one goal in his life. That was to become a knight- a guard of Malleus even if it cost him his life. He carried this idea with him for as long as he could remember, it was his way of repaying Lilia after he had raised him. And never once had he fought against his goal, he welcomed the notion with open arms even if he knew he was relinquishing some form of his freedom.
However in the process he gained himself a partner. Still, his goal remained unchanged, and his wishes to become a knight only grew stronger. And while Silver wasn't one to dwell on the future, he had to address it at some point. And as time moved on, the thought became a more prominent intrusion to his head.
" Have you ever thought about what our future may look like?" He asked out of nowhere as he laid on your lap, his eyes half lidded as sleep threatened to consume him. That almost caused you to jolt as it was pure silence up to that point; however, you fought the instinct.
" I've thought of it from time to time." You answered honestly, your fingers carding through his hair.
" What do you imagine?"
That caused you to chew your cheek in a sheepish manner. " I imagine what it would be like after graduation. Perhaps Crowley would have found a way to get me home." You muttered, lacing together your thoughts. You glanced at the figure on your lap, his hair sprayed out and his eyes were staring into yours. " I also wonder what our relationship would be like in a few years." Your voice trailed, a blush started to decorate your face.
" Do you ever think of it, Silver?" You echoed, your eyes skewed away, embarrassed to meet his gaze.
You received a hum in response, his fingers suddenly reaching up to graze your cheek.
" I imagine being your knight." He said almost naturally but your cheeks flushed at that. You were not oblivious to his ambitions of being knight, he and Sebek held great pride for their role as Malleus' guards.
" Silver-"
" I imagine being that person by your side, clearing away all dangers that threaten your life. I want to keep you safe and never allow even a single blade to pierce your skin." Silver chuckled to himself as he finished, causing your eyes to widen. It wasn't like Silver to exhibit large quantities of affection, not to say he isn't affectionate. Rather he was more reserved with his actions and words. And he wasn't one to be sappy either. Silver's smile only continued to twitched upwards at the faint layering of red that coated your cheeks from the effect his words placed on you.
Although he was still determined to carry out his role and pay repay Lilia's kindness, he also knew that he wanted to keep a future with you. The thought of it made butterflies dance in his stomach but he didn't push the feeling away.
" Will you give me the honor of being your knight?"
" I wouldn't wish for anything else."
-
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stars-are-within-me · 3 months
Text
Reflections
Book: Blades of Light and Shadow
Character: Aerin Valleros
Premise: Aerin and his conflicts.
Word count: 559 words
Warnings: N/A
A/N: I was thinking about that scene from ch 8 where the fortune teller talks about the conflicts of his past and so wrote a fic about his existential crisis. I hope you like it!
Time is a construct. It is built on dynamic moments. Which helps to distinguish between the past and the present and look forward to the future with hope. Alas, this wasn’t the case with Aerin. It had been a year since his arrest. His present was the same as yesterday; his past slowly but steadily ate him up like a disease spreading through him, defiling him, and he knew his future would be similar to his monotonous present. This state was a breeding ground for pessimism; a year in isolation would do that to someone. He was seated on his wooden bed attached to the wall. The dark pallor of his skin had disappeared, due to reasons Aerin could barely grasp, but this wasn’t his primary concern. It was a question that had consumed his mind for weeks:
Who was he?
Souls that wander the earth have a deep sense of purpose etched in their veins. They are striving for something, be it to make ends meet or just to get through the day. There is a fire inside them.
What was his purpose? Was it revenge that fueled him? Was it all that he was? A product of the neglect and abuse he experienced as a child.
Since every card had been dealt with, where did his journey end?
 As an empty, discarded vessel, his days spent inside the four walls, driven crazy by the mania?
His actions had been a result of pain. retaliation of sorts. Sometimes, when an individual is guided by their emotions, they walk down roads unbeknownst to them. Their hearts thumped with the need only they could feel; logic was out of the question, but once the emotion had played with them, it left them stranded. Leaving the victims with queries, it was as if they had woken up from a dream. This was one of those times.
He had chosen this path. He may not regret Baldur’s demise, but he couldn’t help but ask himself: Is this what he always wanted? There wasn’t any satisfaction. There was just a void of contempt inside him. He hated what he had become in the process. Sometimes, when he would look at himself in the mirror, he wouldn’t recognize himself. He was a stranger to himself.
Maybe this was the cost of being guided by your feelings. By your needs. Maybe his loss of control led to this, but what could he have done? He was hurting. There was no one by his side; he was all alone. The perfect target for the Dreadlord.
He sighed and got up. He walked towards the barred window to his left and looked outside. Seasons had changed from beautiful springs to scorching summers to ruthless winters to orange autumns. He had seen it all in his confinement, and he always contemplated
Could he ever change?
Or was he beyond repair?
Change seemed like a star, out of his reach. Maybe this is what he is supposed to be. A broken version of himself marred with self-loath forever and ever. And despite the truth staring at him, he allowed himself to be blinded by the brief glimmer of hope. A rare occurrence in these trying times is that one day he will identify himself as something better than what he is now. And that he would no longer be an alien to himself
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Blades tag: @baldwinboy5ive , @malthemagnifisent , @lilyoffandoms , @lovehugsandcandy , @oh-so-youre-a-nerd , @storyofmychoices
Others: @choicesficwriterscreations , @choicesbookclub
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gogobootz1 · 1 year
Text
Just What I Needed
Aemond Targaryen x Reader
Summary: While taking a nighttime walk to calm your mind, you ran into someone unexpected.
A/N: this one was for funsies- not edited
Word Count: 800+ words
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Your mind had kept you awake for far too long, and the linens had grown too warm from your body heat. Deeply discontent, and searching for comfort, you ventured outside as you always had. It took some wandering, but you’d finally made it to one of the gardens you had been taken past on your tour earlier. Taking in a deep breath and sighing it out in relief, you nearly let yourself collapse into the earth. You managed to stop yourself when you laid eyes on your husband-to-be. 
“Prince Aemond,” you began, eyes wide. A long moment of silence passed before you spoke again, “I did not mean to intrude… I shall leave you.” You gave a quick nod and hastened your steps. 
“Nonsense, my lady. If the thought of being married to me stresses you so, then the garden is yours.” His words made you stop in your tracks. 
You let out a guilty sigh, knowing how much of the tension between the two of you had been of your own doing, “it’s not you.” Shaking your head, you turned to face the man you’d soon be married to. “I- it’s the pomp.” 
“Pardon?” This was a very different side of you than he’d previously seen. Clearly, in the privacy of the garden, you felt comfortable enough to let more of yourself show through. 
“It’s… all of these people do not know me, and yet they’ve come to wish the happy couple well.” He could see you grow progressively more frustrated as you continued to speak. “Are you happy?! I am not.” 
Suddenly Aemond was quite interested in his future bride. After a moment he asked, “and what would make you happy?” 
“Some fucking peace and quiet!” you bit out. Having been raised among many siblings, and growing to be the most disappointing of the bunch, you’d had enough of the noise. The incessant sound of the many balls your father threw, and the never-ending parade of your siblings’ success echoed continuously in your head. Even when you were finally going into marriage, you could not escape the chatter. 
It took you a second to realize how inappropriate the current conversation you were having was. In the span of a few short moments, you had essentially told the prince you were extremely displeased with your impending marriage and all of the efforts the crown had exerted for a beautiful ceremony. You were certain your father would kill you. As his youngest daughter and last child, he’d had a hell of a time pawning you off. Lord Tyrell could not count the number of matches you’d spurned on one hand. This would inevitably be the latest in a long line. Aemond saw the panic wash over your face as you spoke once again, “oh, my prince, please forgive me. I’ve spoken out of turn.” 
“Fret not,” he was quick to interrupt, surprised by you once again. “You have nothing to apologize for. In truth, I believe that is the first time someone has spoken to me honestly in many years.” 
“Then that is what I will strive to give you as your wife. Honesty and my undying support,” you determined. His words had taken you aback but assuaged some of your worries. Prince Aemond was so obviously more complex than his intimidating reputation.  
He raised a brow at your statement, but it was not an unkind expression. “How would you have me serve you as your husband?” 
“Might I have a moment to consider it?” You asked quietly. 
“Certainly,” he said. "I would far prefer a well thought out response to a hasty one.” You nodded in response. 
You looked around the garden as you pondered his question, and also its strangeness. How might he serve you? Never had you thought that a man would give you such regard. 
“I would ask you to protect my privacy,” you started slowly, "grant me as many quiet moments as you can, and allow me the chance to earn your respect.” 
“Would you not rather have my love?” The prince asked, an intrigued look upon his handsome face. 
You let out a half laugh, “whatever I receive from you, my prince, I would like to be genuine.” With a smile on your face, you shrugged, “besides, my mother says that love is a fickle thing. I would much rather have your respect.” 
“You are well on your way, my lady,” he nodded after a moment, lifting your hand and pressing a chaste kiss to it. “I will bid you goodnight.” 
“Goodnight, Prince Aemond.” You said, admiring his face in the moonlight. 
“We can do away with the titles,” he spoke lowly. 
“Alright, Aemond,” you tested his first name carefully. “I shall see you on the morrow… at the alter.” Suddenly you remembered that the next day’s nuptials were what had caused your stress-visit to the garden. That sense of impending doom had shrunk rapidly in your chest. 
He was fighting off an amused grin as he nodded, “until then.” 
Watching his imposing figure disappear behind a corner, you allowed a small smile to grace your lips. Trips to the garden always helped. 
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