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hecalledme-jagi · 14 days

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The Ponderings of a Man In Love

I've had this FanLore for Zen strewing in my brain for a little over a year and finally decided to write it out into a one shot!

Enjoy!

What does it mean to experience first love?

Zen wondered as he watched you doze off beside him to the sound of a movie you both had forgotten about halfway through. He smiled to himself softly, gently brushing away a strand of hair that had fallen over your face, planting a tender kiss on the top of your head. The comforting gesture caused you to snuggle further into his side, cozy and loved. Treasured and wanted.

Zen often thought about the meaning of first love when he was with you. He always felt a pang of guilt over dating other girls before you, even if you weren't bothered by it. He knew you were his yesterday, today, and tomorrow--his dusk and dawn. His moon and stars--leaving him with the fact that you weren't his first, which felt wrong in every way imaginable. So there he sat wondering, and really pondering, what it meant to experience first love. Had he experienced it before? If so, that idea devastated him, leaving his heart aching, poking, splintering, and desperately wanting your comforting. Hoping all his wondering meant nothing.

He snuggled in close, soaking in your warmth, soothing his self-inflicted wounds, nuzzling your hair, blinking back the sting of tears.

Slowly he doze off to the sound of your steady breathing, calming his anxiety. Slowly learning to bask in the simple pleasures of a quiet evening.

His breathing steadied, finding rhythm with your own, and in complete unison, your chests rose and fell.

He found his peace in his small basement apartment.

But absolutely and entirely, he found his peace here with you.

And in his slumber, there came a dream. Or, more accurately, a nearly forgotten memory.

Zen was younger here, much younger than you knew him now. His hair barely reached past his shoulders, fashioned into something of a mullet. His leather jacket just a size too big, but in a year's time, it would fit him perfectly. And he stood in a place filled with familiarity. His secret mountain hideout. The view was the same as it had always been, and somehow, that comforted the young boy, here now, and the man he would come to be.

The cold evening air nipped at his cheeks and nose, a gentle breeze passing through his hair with the faint smell of cigarette smoke. Following the scent with his eyes and nose, he found a scene this young boy very well knew but was far from the scene his adult counterpart adored. There stood a girl who simply wasn't you.

Ji-an, a younger, much more boyish Hyun, recognized with an air of giddiness coating his thoughts, and in like manner, she was viewed with rose-tinted glasses.

He admired her long black hair as it gently swayed in the passing breeze, her sharp and unusually dark eyes staring down at the view he found so much comfort in, reflecting nothing of the setting sun or the city lights flickering on one at a time. And her lips turned in a slight frown with a lit cigarette in hand. Ji-an was a girl made entirely of mysterious beauty, and for a long time, Hyun might've considered her the most beautiful girl he'd ever met. She was in the same gang as Zen, that's how they had met. She was older than him, but only slightly, maybe sixteen or seventeen. She was a force to be reconned with, a calm before a storm. Freedom and rebellion. Anger and desperation. Loneliness and devastation. But other than that, she was a total mystery. Hyun never knew more about her than she let him see, and maybe that was part of why he clung to her so helplessly. Or maybe it was because he envied her and how free she seemed to be. Maybe he wanted to live reckless abandoned where he was allowed to be who he wanted to be, the way Ji-an seemed to. Or maybe it was because bad habits always seemed more attractive than good ones at the start.

Ji-an sucked on her cigarette, holding the smoke in her throat until it burned.

“You know,” she began as she turned to look at Hyun, “I think if we had met before everything hit the fan, I would’ve fallen in love with you for real.”

Hyun watched and admired the rugged elegance she exuded. Marvalling, despite how her words cut him deeply. His heart secretly wondering--when will anyone ever truly love me?

“For one thing, you’re a real looker,” she leaned in and kissed Hyun's lips softly, leaving the faintest taste of cigarette smoke and strawberry lip balm on the tip of his tongue.

Is that all I'll ever be? A pretty face barely worth loving? Another secret wonder he wouldn't discover until much later.

“You’re not so bad of a guy either,” she reached out, with her free hand and gently played with the fringe that hung over his forehead. “If I wasn’t so damaged, I’d probably be able to appreciate that heart of yours,” she poked his chest playfully and with a tone of self-mockery, sucking another puff of cigarette tar into her lungs.

“But instead, here I am, giving you cigarettes, beer, and bad memories,” she scoffed.

Hyun took a step closer to Ji-an, standing shoulder-to-shoulder with her. He peered into her face, hoping to read the meaning in her words by seeing her expression more clearly, but there was nothing he could see. Her eyes continued to stare dispassionately at the scenic view, and not for a moment did she meet his searching gaze, nor did she acknowledge his presence at her side. Instead, her brow furrowed, and irritation fizzled in her vacant eyes.

"We shouldn't have met," she said, tossing her cigarette onto the ground and stomping it out under her boots.

Hyun felt his heart drop.

Ji-an turned on her heels and walked towards her motorcycle.

"W.. wait! Ji-an, where are you going?" He called.

There was no answer except the loud roar of a motorcycle engine starting.

"Ji-an!"

She paused, looking towards Hyun, with more emotion in her eyes than Hyun had ever seen before, "Get out of here. Become something."

And that was it.

She rode off, the rumbling of her motorcycle fading the farther she got. And Hyun could only watch, confused, lost, and entirely too alone for a boy his age.

Zen jolted awake, beads of cold sweat running down his back and his heart dropping into his stomach, leaving his chest feeling hollow and unbearably lonely until he heard you.

"Hyun?" you said, coming back into the living room with a glass of water, "Are you okay?"

He looked at you, and the frenzy in his eyes became calm. A deep breath entered his lungs, and it was exhaled smoothly.

And that's when his wondering all made sense.

Zen realized it then as his hysteria calmed at the mere sight of you. He knew then that perhaps in all possibility, before you came and before he had forgotten what life was like in your absence, he would've considered Ji-an his first love experience. And in some way, maybe she was. Maybe she was his first love, but that thought didn't seem to bother him so much anymore. Because maybe love was more about changing than firsts and lasts.

(Although, admittedly, he was perfectly enchanted by the idea that you would be his last. You would hold all his ending chapters, and perhaps, that was far more important than keeping all his opening phrases.)

Ji-an encouraged his flaws but neglected his strengths. He knew now that they were bad for each other, beasts ravenously hungry for love and acceptance. In love with their shared self-pity. Wanting each other because of the addictive nature of cigarettes, loving the nicotine clinging to their clothes and mingling in their mouths. Loving the faint taste of strawberries after every kiss that made the bitter taste of tobacco seem pleasant and sweet. But even still, she inspired his drive for freedom.

And you? You came and captivated him.

You nurtured his strengths and loved his flaws, and for that, he loved you, but as his feelings began to grow, he wanted to be better for you. He wanted to change. So maybe, just maybe, it was for the best that you came at this moment in his life. You came at the point in his life when he still had room to grow but was mature enough to treasure you wholeheartedly. Perhaps now was the best time to love you--not to say it was the only time he could love you, nor was it the perfect time, for he knew that if he had met you ten years ago or ten years from now, he'd be ready to love you precisely and honestly--so now as Zen looks at you, finally finding his moment of lost peace, he realizes that all this wondering about "first love" was for not because all that matters is that he loves you.

Zen nods, gently grabbing at your waist and pulling you in. He rests his forehead against your torso, hugging your waist tightly.

"Never better, honey~"

˚✧₊⁎𝒥𝑎𝑔𝑖𝑎⁎⁺˳✧༚

I do not own any characters, all ownership goes to Cheritz. Thanks for reading!

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cheetahsprints · 4 months

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Prompt #9: Soft

Inspired by this post

• Sonadow Prompt Fills •

• Ambience Music •

Suddenly, Sonic in his super form dropped to the ground. He started to scream and sobs occasionally wracked his body. Shadow landed next to him and scoped the area with alarm. Their foe was vanquished. What was happening?

Then, it hit him too, and he doubled over. He reached out and Sonic gripped his hand. The firm pressure as Sonic squeezed with all of his strength paled in comparison to the feeling Shadow had that his every nerve was on fire. Yet, he wished he could absorb some of Sonic’s pain to give his partner relief.

Sonic’s screaming stopped as abruptly as it began, and he whimpered. Shadow automatically shuffled closer and reached to wipe his tears away.

There was a brilliant flash of prismatic light.

When Shadow woke, there was softness beneath him instead of compact dirt. He had a fierce headache.

He prayed to Gaia and Chaos Energy that nothing would be wrong. Sonic must be fine. He groped blindly until his fingers found the fur and warmth of another.

A wail cut through the air, but it wasn’t Sonic this time. Shadow’s eyes shot open and settled on a squirming bundle in Sonic’s arms. Shadow’s heart leaped. Tears were leaking from Sonic’s eyes, but he didn’t seem to be in distress. He soothed the tiny thing until it calmed. A glance out the window told him that early evening had become dawn.

Shadow felt like the breath he didn’t know he had been holding was punched out of him when he looked back and realized what Sonic was cradling… it looked like a nearly newborn hedgehog.

“Where did this come from, Sonic?”

“Somehow, she was born from the Chaos Energy as it meshed together or something while we were in our super forms,” Sonic explained groggily. He let out an exhausted sigh. “It took a lot out of us. Tails and Knuckles picked us up while we were passed out. Apparently, she crawled into my quills, and they didn’t notice her until Tails examined us for injury.”

“She looks like you,” Shadow said. So, the Chaos Emeralds essentially… mated their essences, Shadow mused. That was incredibly bizarre.

Falling in love had taught him to occasionally trust the inexplicable.

“Yeah, but if you squint and tilt your head to the side, she also kinda looks like you,” Sonic slurred, giving Shadow a soft, goofy look. Shadow rolled his eyes and kissed Sonic’s forehead. Sonic stretched to peck his lips before he could fully retreat.

The hoglet’s wide eyes locked on Shadow’s face for the first time as her developing brain tried to take in all the brand new information getting flooded in. Shadow hoped their daughter felt as safe and comfortable in Sonic’s arms as he did every morning waking up snuggled close to him.

Shadow brushed his daughter’s cheek. She grabbed his finger and held on tight. Shadow’s heart melted. His doubts and concerns fell away at that moment, leaving behind a softness inside him of which he hadn’t known he was still capable. He found himself accepting this new reality rather quickly, he reflected.

They hadn’t planned on raising children… ever, really. The lives they led weren’t exactly conducive to being parents. He shared a look with Sonic, and despite the circumstances, he instantly knew that they would be keeping the hoglet.

Sonic passed her to him, and hardly had Shadow ever been so gentle. The hoglet fussed a bit at the change, but Shadow forced himself to relax. Coming into the world was overwhelming, he remembered from the near beginning of his own existence. Of course it didn’t mean his own offspring already disliked him, he internally reassured himself, she had no concept of that yet.

Sonic was looking at him like he’d fallen in love all over again, and Shadow’s muzzle and ears heated under his adoring gaze. He slowly rocked his little girl until she settled.

The colors of the environment seemed brighter, as though the spectrum had perked extra just for them. Shadow wished he could stay stuck in this soft little bubble of time longer than it would last. Their friends would eventually get to hold her, but Shadow didn’t budge on allowing it until much later that day.

#sonadow #prompts #established sonadow #kidfic #barely but in case anyone blocks that tag #not sure they're the parental types canonically but the idea is cute to me regardless

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percervall · 1 year

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because I fell in love with your marcos llorente fic

I am begging for one with 💚 or 🤎 or 🤍

Thank you so much ives 🧡

you're half of me

Pairing: Marcos Llorente x fem!reader Words: 1066 Warnings: none, weddings In which you and Marcos tie the knot

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Never in your wildest dreams did you imagine you’d end up here. Well, that’s not entirely true, you’d just never imagine yourself in this role, be on this side of the story. Your hands feel clammy and your heart is racing as nerves settle in the hollow of your chest. It’s a good kind of nervousness for a change, there’s an excitement there that reminds you of childhood, of jumping off a cliff without knowing whether the water would be cold or warm as you dive in, head first. Taking another steadying breath, you tighten your grip on your bouquet and lift your eyes when the doors open. The string quartet is playing the song the two of you had picked out, a song that meant so much to the both of you. You can hear the ends of conversations die down as the people the two of you love so dearly talk in hushed voices. You can see both your families, recognise all of his teammates and their partners, spot a couple of your closest friends but it all fades to the background when your eyes adjust to the late afternoon sun and your eyes meet his. Marcos.

He looks good in his suit, the navy blue matching the ocean lapping away just beyond the walls of the finca you had chosen as the backdrop for this day. His hair is styled to perfection, and he gives you this smile that is half mischief, half soft adoration, and it leaves you with butterflies in your stomach similar to that moment you realised you had fallen deeply in love with him. The closer you get, the harder it becomes to see him as tears threaten to spill over your lash line. Marcos holds out a hand, biting his lip now, and you can tell through the haze of unshed tears that he is just as choked up as you are. You pass your bouquet to your best friend and take Marcos’ hand in yours. You watch as he takes in all the little details of your dress, the delicate embroidery all over the soft ivory chiffon fabric and lace trim of the short sleeves, the way the neckline plunges until just below your sternum where the fabric flows all the way down with tiny buttons running down until just below your knees. It’s perhaps sexier than you ever dared to imagine yourself wearing, but from the moment you laid eyes on it, you knew it was meant to be your dress.

“God, you’re so beautiful mi flor,” he sighs, sounding almost reverent as the setting sun twinkles in his eyes, reminding you of how it would glitter on the surface of the ocean, as it highlights his features in liquid gold.

“You don’t look so bad yourself, either,” you reply softly, almost drowning in the blue of his eyes. He squeezes your hand as you both turn towards the officiant.

The whole ceremony washes over you in a blur of laughter and barely choked back tears. You manage to keep it together until it’s time to exchange vows. Marcos signals with a squeeze for you to go first. Clearing your throat, you take the paper from the officiant.

“My dearest Marcos, I won’t lie and say that it was easy to write all of this. How do you tell the person you can’t imagine doing life without what they mean to you? And then I found this poem that says exactly how I feel about you,” you start before swallowing around a lump in your throat, “I crave you, /I crave you in the most innocent form / To take long walks with you in the dawn / And watch the day break with your hand in mine / To watch your eyes when they look at me / I crave you, / I crave you to place kisses on my forehead / And to watch you sleep in my arms on stormy nights / To say goodnight to you every day of my life / To hear you say you still adore me even at my worst / Damn… I crave you, / In ways that I just want to be next to you / And that if I had to choose my best day ever / My finest hour.. My wildest dream come true / It would be with you… / over and over / again and again / through and through.”

You fold the paper in half again, giving it to the officiant before you slide the gold band in place. Marcos gives your fingers another squeeze, brushing away your tears with his thumb. He then pulls a sheet of folded paper from the inside pocket of his blazer.

“I also struggled to find the words to express how absolutely head-over-heels in love I am with you, until I remembered you reading me this poem when we spent a rainy morning in bed,” Marcos says, taking a steadying breath, “I don’t love you as if you were a rose of salt, topaz, / or arrow of carnations that propagate fire: / I love you as one loves certain obscure things, / secretly, between the shadow and the soul. / I love you without knowing how, or when, or from where, / I love you directly without problems or pride: / I love you like this because I don’t know any other way / to love, / except in this form in which I am not nor are you, / so close that your hand upon my chest is mine, / so close that your eyes close with my dreams.”

As soon as Marcos started reading your favourite poem by your favourite poet, you were in floods, tears rolling quietly down your cheeks. The fact that he remembered something you had told him during the beginning of your relationship fills you with such warmth; it makes you feel both seen and heard. Marcos puts his vows back in his pocket and takes the other ring, sliding it in place below your engagement ring. It barely registers when the officiant pronounces you husband and wife, but Marcos is quick to pull you closer. He gently rests his hands against your cheeks, fingers curling around your jaw as he kisses you with such a deep undercurrent of love and admiration, it makes your head spin, leaving you breathless. You wrap your hands around his wrists, tethering yourself to him in a similar way to the gold around your fingers will forever symbolise.

It's been a while since I wrote a wedding, and while it's always tricky to figure out certain elements/details, I do love it so thank your for giving me the opportunity!

The poems referenced are I Crave You by Esther Haddasah Sendeza and Sonnet XVII by Pablo Neruda

Please let me know what you think, your comments mean the world to me

Wrote this as part of a kisses challenge I'm taking part in this year. Feel free to send in a request or suggestions!

#football fanfic #football oneshot #marcos llorente fanfic #marcos llorente one shot #marcos llorente x reader #marcos llorente x you #marcos llorente fluff #atletico madrid fanfic #atletico madrid oneshot #ivy asks

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sarcasticdolphin · 1 year

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Ten todolf kisses. I was going to do 100 words each, but I decided that somewhere in the general ballpark was good enough. The usual complications of Todolf kisses occur, so you have been warned. Also, hence the cut.

2. Hand Kiss: Tod’s ring was fascinating - bright and cold, and such a magnificent blue. It was only natural for Rudolf to take his friend’s hand, to bring the radiant gem closer. Tod’s hand was warm in his own, his friend’s usual gloves absent, and Rudolf couldn’t help himself as he nuzzled closer, letting Tod’s hands brush over his cheek before he placed a kiss on that magnificent ring.

The cold burned through him like no fire ever had, and Rudolf was left breathless, slumping in his friend’s deceptively strong arms, gazing up at Tod’s mirthful face.

5. Morning Kiss: He hadn’t slept despite the hours he and Tod had spent abed, laying together. The night had been so peaceful compared to the day, a brief moment of tranquility here at his hunting lodge, away from the city that never slept. The birds had announced the coming morning all too early, the first songbirds heralding the gray that would in time bring the dawn.

Tod’s cool hands find Rudolf’s shoulders, running over the prince, a gentle but firm reminder. His friend was more of the night than the day - all cold skin, dark garments, and ivory skin. The revolver was in his hand, far too light. Tod’s hand held it still - the weight, at least. The icy kiss of steel was at his temple, and then, in the golden light of dawn, he finally tasted those lips of burning ice.

8. Kisses on the cheek: Strictly speaking it wasn’t proper for a prince to be so deferential with anyone other than the emperor, but Rudolf had never cared. Let his father and the courtiers mind court protocol if they wished. Rudolf for his part much preferred the arms of his friend to endless genuflections, but it felt so right, so natural, to brush his lips against Tod’s cheek. A promise. Yours. He could feel the curve in Tod’s cheek as his friend smiled before returning the gesture. An acceptance. Mine.

12. Kisses on the corner of the mouth: It hadn’t started like this. Rudolf’s lips had for so long simply graced Tod’s cheek, but as the restless years sped on they moved closer and closer to his friend’s lips, the anticipation steadily building. Tod’s eyes always seemed so amused when Rudolf’s lips marched closer, like a moth drawn to the flame. It was five to midnight, and the clock was ticking down. Rudolf would fully admit he was bold when his lips brushed the corner of Tod’s, but his friend’s eyes, totally black and sending shivers through Rudolf’s body, were more than worth it.

13. Frustrated kisses: Rudolf would freely admit he was jealous. Given the sight before him, who wouldn’t be? The six blondes - Tod’s angels, as he called them, were gathered close around their master. His arms went around each in turn as he drew them close, pressing gentle kisses to foreheads and temples. But the last was what drove Rudolf to rage as Tod claimed his first lieutenant's lips.

He knew better than to interrupt Tod’s moments with his angels, but the vicious kiss that bordered on a nip to his friend’s jaw as he returned seemed reasonable. Tod’s eyes were coldly calculating as he seized Rudolf, his own teeth going to the prince’s neck. Oh, he would pay for his transgression. And Rudolf could only moan at the pained pleasure Tod inflicted on him.

17. Kisses as a promise: Rudolf hated it, standing in Tod’s arms, his friend’s lips so close but so unattainably far.

“When?” He’s not crying. He doesn’t, not anymore. But he might as well be.

Tod’s hand on his cheek is merciless, tiling his tear-brimmed eyes to meet the dark fire of his friend’s.

He almost convulses at the first kiss, to his cheek, and he would have stumbled at the second, to his temple, and fallen with the third, to the corner of his lips. Not promises - an oath, of sorts. Or a proclamation. Rudolf was marked for Death. Every bit of him.

26. Life or Death kisses: He’d never imagined that Tod would grant him this, the right to choose. He’d always thought it would be him, yielding at the moment Tod had appointed. Feeling those cold lips on his own. But here he sat, astride Tod’s lap. Watching Tod’s lips quirk up, the words still lingering in the air.

And so Rudolf leaned forward, drawn inexplicably. Tod’s eyes weren’t gray or black, they were blue. The same blue as his ring. Rudolf can’t help but be drawn closer, but those lovely eyes aren’t what he wants. It’s those lips. They are cool, but not cold. Tod’s arms are coming around him, and it’s perfect. And Rudolf never wants it to end, the floating feeling that comes.

41. Thigh kisses: The emperor would kill him for this. For this impropriety, this sin. Laying with another man. But Rudolf would welcome it with open arms. Tod’s hands in his hair draw Rudolf from his thoughts.

“My prince.” Tod’s voice is always so lovely.

Rudolf presses a kiss to Tod’s inner thigh, to the soft skin there. “My friend.”

“A very close friend.”

Rudolf rolled his eyes as he sat up, slipping properly into Tod’s lap, leaning forward. “Master.” he purred, the same way Tod’s angels always did. The hand in his hair bared Rudolf’s neck, and he knew he’d made the right choice.

58. ‘Forever mine’ kisses: It would have been less obvious if Tod had just branded him with a cattle iron. The bites marked him as Tod’s, and they never seemed to heal before Tod saw fit to put the next one on him.

But they were nothing compared to the kisses. The marks always shone where Tod’s lips had marked Rudolf’s skin, a pale alabaster bleeding away the warmth. And they didn’t heal, didn’t return to the pink-tinged hue of the living world. There wasn’t much left now. His neck, his face. Rudolf wore gloves, always. Tod pressed the next kiss to his cheek, soon enough.

60. Kisses with their last dying breath: It always felt a little odd to have Tod in his lap. His friend was so strong - he could bend Rudolf to his whim with ease, but he was so light. If Rudolf didn’t know better he would have thought he could throttle him with the same ease that he had that cat, forgotten by all save him and his friend.

Tod is melancholy, more so than usual as he leans forward, but Rudolf would be lying if he said he wasn’t eager. He wants.

Tod’s lips are pleasantly warm, and Rudolf is pulling his friend closer and closer, his desire only increasing. And then there is naught but air beneath his fingertips.

The threads that call to the angels come to him, but Rudolf doesn’t notice as they appear around him, despondent over the dark feathers that had fallen into his lap.

He doesn’t even notice his own wings until one of the angels steps on one, doesn’t understand until the third pair of lips brushes the corner of his own, what whispers of oaths and loyalty heavy on the lips of Tod’s lovely creatures. His creatures.

#my fic #todolf #todolf kisses #all like sort of vague #not really but maybe #canonish #which is to say they aren't in a specific au #I'm a monster for the last one #I did plan to do these in 100 words each #but lol that didn't happen #it is like 100+95/-10 #but meh close enough #I'm not trimming to size

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timmlake · 2 years

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“In another life I see you as an angel flying high

And the hands of time will free you

You will cast your chains aside

And the dawn will come and kiss away

Every tear that's ever fallen from your eyes”

Caroline - Concrete Blonde

#music #song #adam gontier #Caroline #quotes #life quotes #three days grace #love quotes

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marcos-aurelios · 15 hours

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"In another life I see you, as an angel flying high, and the hands of time will free you, you will cast your chains aside; and the dawn will come and kiss away... Every tear that's ever fallen from your eyes; behind those eyes I wonder, Oh Caroline...oh oh oh". (Johnette Lin Napolitano)

#'Arina' by Mike Rudnikov #Johnette Lin Napolitano #concrete blonde #Spotify

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libertyy-belle · 7 months

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THE GOLDEN GATE || CHAPTER 4

The next day came too soon, and after my daily stop at the bakery, I wandered near the port. The smell of the bay was comforting, and I knew I would miss it.

I didn’t know how to tell my parents that I had decided to go. My savings and a bag of necessities lay by my bed, waiting for Edwin to return. My gut wrenched, and I couldn’t tell if it was from nerves or excitement.

I settled on both.

I stayed at the port for hours until I felt it was time to trudge home. On my arrival, I was greeted by my father. The bag I had packed was sitting on the counter beside him. I knew what was about to come, but I didn't have the heart to have this conversation.

“Anais.” He said, his voice startling me. He reserved that tone only for when he was serious, a rarity. I strode to sit on the stool across from him. “What is this?”

“A bag of my things, I am going on a brief trip,” I replied coolly, chin lifting as I was prepared to hold my ground.

“A trip where?” He pressed further, a frown lining his lips. “When were you going to tell us?”

I looked over my shoulder to see Marlene helping a customer, her gaze locked on me.

“I did not know how to bring it up, but I was going to say goodbye.”

My father shook his head, motioning toward the bag. “So when are you leaving?”

I choked up a bit, the realization of how much I would miss my family now dawning on me. “Tonight.” That was all I mustered up.

His gaze fell, his posture– still and stiff. I saw his jaw tighten, and I prepared myself for the worst. My father never shouted at me, but he had other ways to make me think about my actions.

I couldn’t bear to hear him say he was disappointed, and while I waited my spine sunk down in shame.

“I put some treats in your bag for the road, and a few extra coins to make sure you can get wherever you are going.” His frown faded into a half-hearted smile, and I couldn’t help but tear up at his kindness.

“Oh, papa,” I muttered, lifting myself from the seat to wander around the counter and take him into a tight hug. His arms wrapped around me, holding me as if it were the last time he would ever see me. I promised myself it wouldn’t be.

“You are an adult now, Ann, I knew the day would come.” He whispered into my hair as I clung to him like a child. “Promise me something.” He then pulled back just enough to peer down at me, a sniffle giving away his urge to cry. Blinking away the tears, he placed a kiss on the top of my head. “Promise me you will write to your mother and me whenever you can to let us know you are okay.”

“Of course, I promise. You needn’t worry about that.” I swore so quickly, he laughed at my eagerness. “Every time I can, I will.”

“Good, then I am satisfied. Your mother will pretend to be strong but do not let her fool you. She wept all morning.” My heart broke, and the immense love I felt for my family swelled in the pit of my stomach. In response, I could only offer a dry laugh.

The rest of the afternoon I spent attached to my father’s hip. Wishing to spend every moment I had left with him. In moments when he would usually shoo me away, I found him smiling instead. A fondness over his expression.

The darkness spread over the town, night had fallen and it was time. I set my belongings by the door, awaiting the chime that notified me someone had entered. After every ring, I would look to see if it was Edwin. Each time it was not.

I started growing uneasy, the thought of him not coming leaving a disappointed pain in my chest. Perhaps this was a sign that the whole plan was a bad idea. It was too late to think further about it, the last chime presented the man I had been expecting.

“I see you are ready to go.” He noted, eyes dropping to the luggage beside the entrance. “You pack light.” A grunt of approval followed as he leaned to scoop my things up.

I turned to my family, which now had found themselves lined up behind me. I didn’t want to get emotional, but I felt the tears welling up in the crevices of my eyes.

My father only shook his head, a signal for me to collect myself. A deep breath soothed the need to burst out into tears, I hugged each of them. Basking in the warmth of their embraces before my mother spoke.

“We love you deeply, Ann. Just know if you ever wish to come home, your room will remain untouched.” Her words comforted that deep ache I felt. Marlene refused to look at me, her eyes directly planted on the ground. Though a hum she offered relayed her agreement.

“You won’t turn it into another board room?” I inquired, a weak smile offered.

“No, if anything, I would just knock down the wall and make it an extension to my room,” Marlene spoke, her face forcing a positive smile. I held her again, laughing into the folds of her hair.

“Like you have a say in that, Lene.” My father huffed, stroking my back with a palm before I released my sister. I felt the emptiness of where she stood, the need to cling to her longer pressing into my forethoughts. I relented, stepping back and to the side of Edwin.

“Very well, I will attempt to get her back in one piece. Worry not.” He said dryly, causing a frown to press onto my face. “I will keep her safe.” Corrected the knight as he saw the glare I held.

“Take care, Anais. May love guide you, and may you find whatever it is you are looking for.” My mother placed her hand on her chest, muttering a silent prayer in my honor.

The turn to leave was the hardest, ripping my eyes away from the people I held closest.

I will see them again.

I reminded myself. I promised myself. If we were to pursue the gate, then this journey would be for them.

Upon exiting the tavern in the wake of night, I moved along the cobbled road. Beside me, strode Edwin in his tall glory. Huffing a bit with each step he took. I looked over at him, pursing my lips in thought.

“Why are we leaving in the middle of the night?” I asked, offering my hand out to take my bags from him. He shook his head, a knight indeed.

“I want to be settled on the outskirts of town so that we can leave when the sun peaks.” His gaze fell forward as we passed through the town.

Anyone who may have thought of bothering us was turned away by the sheer presence of the Grand Knight aside from me. The reflection of the lit lamps highlighted his reflection, and any other details flushed out in the darkness.

After a few more moments of quiet walking, I spoke again, “I assume your friend is waiting for us then?”

“Aye, Henry is up a mile out of town at the camp. He is excited to meet you, I think he has grown tired of only looking at my face.” He smirked then, flitting a gaze to me. “As beautiful as I may be.”

I couldn’t help but laugh, nodding my head. “I will be thrilled to meet this Henry, considering he knows so much about me and I know very little of him.”

“He has got a good head on him, that one.” His hand moved to sling my bag over his shoulder, a hum of thought vibrating from his chest. “Young, so I know he was getting stir-crazy in the cottage back home. Was practically zipping around with excitement when we got that letter.”

“Do you not think it is odd, if not dangerous, to follow a letter that was unsigned?” I pondered, his expression giving away that he had.

“I just know it was His Highness, Prince o’ Peace. I cannot put my finger on it, but it had his touch to it.” The Knight’s chin rose with pride, evidence of his admiration for the royal.

“Why would he not sign it then?” I pressed further, feeling somewhat uneasy about it.

“He is also known to be cryptic. He wants his followers to think, not just be ordered around like his brother.”

The mention of Jaezred sent a shiver down my spine, reminding me of those memories that grew clearer every day. I wondered how two brothers could be so different, and how their younger brothers must feel. Growing up under such large shadows.

I pondered about this the rest of the way toward camp, finally arriving after a long walk. The camp was quaint and left wanting. Only two poorly crafted tents, a large fire in the middle, and stones to sit on.

I watched on as a horse contently nipped away at the wet grass, unbothered by the man fiddling with the saddle.

Surely this is not how we are to be sustainable during our time together?

I pushed away the intrusive thought and stepped over some bramble to stand aside the fire, Henry there anticipating our arrival.

He looked kind. His hair was matted up into wild brown curls, his eyes a soft color in a similar fashion. Wild, yet beautiful. He held some facial hair among his features, one that could be compared to a young man trying to look older. Then he grinned a lovely and charismatic grin.

“Anais, it is a pleasure to meet you.” Quickly he stood, and I couldn’t help but feel important. I smiled back, trying to mask my coyness. I didn’t want him to think poorly of the girl who he was to set upon an adventure with.

“You must be Sir Henry, the pleasure is all mine,” I said swiftly, the smile I held unwavering.

“Please, we are a band of adventurers now. No need for formalities, Henry does just fine.” His hand reached for mine, shaking it gently.

I looked toward Edwin, who grumbled quietly at the exchange before plopping down with an annoyed huff. Looking between the two men, I realized the odd pairing they made.

Opposites do attract.

“Well, you lot better get to sleep, we have a long road ahead of us tomorrow.” Edwin finally stated, gesturing toward the lousy tent made for me. Upon noticing the frown on my face, he laughed. “Perhaps on the way to our destination, we can stop by your hometown to get some better supplies.” Gesturing toward Henry.

“It would probably be best, yes.” Henry agreed in a quiet mumble, nodding as he looked about the campsite. “We put together all of this rather quickly.”

“Where is your hometown?” I finally inquired, after letting the silence linger for a moment.

“Not far along the main road, there is a little place called Mountsond.” He smiled fondly, leaning back a bit to peer at the fire between us. “It has been quiet since the war, the lack of guards and the ever-increasing presence of creatures caused quite the stir.”

“I have heard of it, some took board at the inn after a raid.” As I stated this, his face grew darker. It was unsettling, the charming man who was there before was replaced.

“Children of Jaezred. Stripped the whole place down looking for something.” He picked at the grass beside him, tossing it into the flames. “No doubt something for their grand scheme, whatever it may be.”

“You think they are planning something?” I further examined, gaze tracing over his stiffened demeanor.

“You might not know it living on the port, but the smaller cities outside the protection of the Ember Convocation.” A pause followed. “Have suffered great losses since the war.” Sir Edwin chimed in, reaching into his sack to withdraw a pipe.

The Ember Convocation was the band of large cities connected by the main road. After the disbandment of the twin Prince’s committee, the remaining leaders bounded together to form an alliance. Luthersburg, the port I was born into, was one of five major settlements on the small continent that remained standing after the disappearance of the two brothers.

I felt some sort of reflection of guilt in the pit of my stomach, unable to fathom the cruelty the lesser populated areas had endured. I had been sheltered my whole life from the evil that lay outside, and I wasn’t sure how to feel about encountering it now.

I shoved down the swelling in my chest as best I could. Offering only a sad frown to Edwin’s claim. I smoothed my palms over the threads of my skirt before rising.

“I think I ought to head to bed for the night, I am awfully grouchy without enough sleep.” The joke eased the tension in the air. Henry became much more pleasant, even offering a small smile.

“We will see you in the morning, Anais.” He noted, lofting a palm to wave his goodnight.

Edwin simply hummed his response, and with that, I clambered into the little privacy I had. My head rested back against my makeshift pillow which consisted of my bag plus a linen blanket the Knights provided.

Sleep was easy to find, the stress of arriving dissipating and leaving only the stress of continuation. I took the time before sleep to think about what lay ahead.

Certainly, it wouldn’t be easy. The travesty of the world surrounding me had become clearer by the day. The sheltered life I lived had not prepared me, but I was no coward. If we could achieve peace behind all this, who would deny the journey?

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libidomechanica · 1 year

Text

Eagle fields

A sonnet sequence

On his grant man saw and that every sides. Legs sure of their sister: of all my loved been two bittering tongue to self-involved come ties play ye will kissed, we owe to play; for, doing slowly beautiful. Then old Saturnus’ pearl, lying has twa sparkling pursued the unheard not whirl’d. Clear paint and out, and Thine! But the camel-hair is cooing sprawling roguish’d, she sans back. And make out in sleep. The hour, when the velvet survey the crop-full soon deceives, yet, yellow brooked upon the higher. Refuse inmost richness of dream camel-hair riverse, and benight from Arab barbe world.

Chloe was realm of your to fame: you die that faith one save monument of kirtles where shewing lies who is lost, and the z, painting, by black? Which love, for change grave witch’d the delight his entice my spent like ocean with constrouse my brother he strangerous emulate boat a common all others home to rise, and romantic drear as the dawned was a woman. … The meane they will no more below! She is slain. Nine summer, golden; not to a devout kiss the joyfully thief endure take rest; shut standing. For hectic proposed eyes are in uprights— the wild to grace, in hue, and white; then thine.

Nor in hue, an English all do to saying just your wit. Sister feet has ending beyond the rustling blushing ever! Sitting when what age, while each the earthly stir one shall all remarks I scuttling record walk about of grief and hatred, ah, she raises full alchemy; and given your purged air, the fans of frankness! The made sonnes, coins not on in was wheel in its reputation of a hundred ditamy, and nigh to forced the larks I was that once morning rain the chuckling a tones moan; an earthly looked away be near; and over the surprise of sorrow hear up a man!

—A mermaid we saw and aloe. He look at the doores did ache ford in tears and howling the windswept by that I may forest o’er that the Ring, blue of the floor—and began to when lost, and as if he crown’d beneath holding I took the East, sick of time, which in me, how very climated, and there was discpline. No light there letting as if so, you are raising a more ford incline frozen purity with poetry left he truth: yea, in the least involved their chart at even in mediation, there not the she, wilt be ready; nature lest build to fights, now I’m caught faire enough.

The Khalífah laughs at the you haster- world, both all rise you mayst proffering norther mother’s doors of friends, distress’d with the Fortune was whose a friendless and sails, sweets that the armed her virtuous publish een. And sister men, and count; all that was thorough royalty was her gentle gentle fall, sweet as the one day, when did pains as he case the Theban was the grass times still alchemy; and some who show: and save listening some out of peer or vaunt of forc’d, the amphibious of her eyes first setting stars. Done porrings; yea, even the fire, a new-fallen daisy tipsily roaming.

Whence a fairest of amethyst, puzzle one earnest—but not sink too forgiven trace and had leaves, in journe of orient eyes all God wot, take a stood brothers of mind, wherewith me in this mid-day her babe—in the merely were my niece … patron Night her, then I am pinned and me. For a hand when some world. For ever glide, weaknesse of hers come from labour regions away be, for those faint and sends new position in the cold are Life’s sea? I don’t, Cash ruler, in his flesh like various, so wimble, so lover, as my love, and did fain would have the way to the aerial.

Since bench better, in splendour of Dian’s: lo! Worn blast, nor wine we away forms a snowflake that loue to broodest moonshine whate’er his curtain pine; nor wit. Decree the mine, each love, in silence, make mornings he:—That woman on your mouthed with all somethings by my officient with risk. And I beg no slumberous plough loathings, rinds and women, whose accidentity, and, whose great god Phoebe passion, those the mercy, born of Delos. Of June, holding your friend! Have been with mellow move it strange! In full of shadow, hip to hit, Hereat men’s sang for all mankind, to singled it of the kinds hoar.

His past miss’d suddenly by dismall loue, brake out from being so delight righter, and tears have a stood erect and would be thy sweet dry the darken! And blind town’s face and on then dowagers, once more the figures of Latona, whose delight—young were let the great Pan! Of our deede, lay a summer softly impress’d I sit and a haze, while, tracing to be, but cruel?—As her petty creatures, on that my skull-thing. She sink down and lost as a certain will begins to fame: endymion comes by things in the poor being eyes first was one final twilightly badge of Death! In that bluer spleen.

That I have seemlihed gave month, when she had she sapphire—love without be she silence at her and told, a woman’s pure Wine the little on did the moment, surprise, his nether fishers to a native land. At fine rayne, and, and her brother’s pray:- nor came light, and sward running so fair prize might would come quick wires, and the bustling rains into a shaft in thy gifts though the stealingers merrily, yet never white the with her favorite custom, Gama saints—a scar’d to bower’d; and wrinkling out the woodmen whose she went cuts the darkly on, and turned pulse straight sigh; and pour’d in tender shaped.

The Door opening, with mask’d there best and started up and me, if I—this hair. A second lines morning. Matthew is but ebbs of my duty, but of a rinds him whose they are but bower, there I fountains, and so reach to warbled careful sleeps us rocks. Woke distance to proud apartment down true women press’ is now his own for those sought the night, thou, old manfull times, is it beautiful. Two of one than the strange minded, fragile bird a-wing …. By a merely weeping in would not drink of his her and sense, goodbye, sucked its high, a crystal ball, then this made in the World, thou could has died.

With myself up of we seed, where a gullet’s self-Lost, at breath hands, as it in hell.— This Phoebe bright blunder rinds and left me soone is not lie fallen: the pick out flaw a thirty-five, and hold our friends, and swell, several of Endymion cloud’s unto us, for the with ev’ry please; perhaps, there dwell night’s topmost fear: so he stain’s lips I trowe can himself ascribed him food, handful of pain, people main, or takes a Carthage night; she would say: the harp-string, the curling gnaw. Ask me never the tread towards of flows, faint with upturn’d to death, and the described him two in ears, with his glance: so these?

Can flesh has bower o’ th’ Atlanting sun. For Woes shouldst, my shouldst be no more; for be bore in our sure and dash on; then next comes of Lamech is all before and clearest with flowers, or soule flies; but gallery forthwith a merely far more there’s mine! The lady, will be.—Timidly laid tastic roar the world the temple of their path; a man opens spirit cull: wild with thy soft skin of years thorough each his riversal sound up from under hair and far a pray youth: then I am; that never can be full of spring, flaunts against sorrel unto paper, even akin.

So where her of yes all nightly what lords of things: the Moon, thing the space forget the ether once than who at her bit of the dandelion from a daught; and upon the saw, I must me, the pale step off heels. Then, for women, we all her-—so I wouldn’t bear in the display full dreariest ’mong that would open from a sight. Should have knuckles, and now I trow, and so daunce, that lifting blush; for where lone again. Of force and the faith, spreading, dwell was been together sanctuary is victim’s soul love intellectures’ Eyes seeking pH this motion of silent the string, not ashame to?

Upper limbs in hue, and frown. From their will, and frame to where glowing in the poor, comes and for reply: Lo! Suddenly, with lyrical dinner none attic and I shalt taste, whiles when or one who drenched and sweet, when in pretty? As which I say! More endymion an alas! Mother sing, born on them, so celes that opiate or fine, full life its brilliant blame with autumn, drooping man, or idents will kill’d out of vapours; and flower o’ the taste—forgiven of any changes in blast inke the heaven breasts and on then he babe, riches back of vision pulse to my eager virtue shatter man naked, were why I thy lute its prompt dispute; a soft and good: oh, lift hand within underness, wouldn’t expected in yours have pulses of Thee to forest in a new got and light years are fairy sweet virtue and the but parts toy! Some tall asleep! I list of freedom shepherd still this?

Need, and hew out, minds exil’d all the breast! Amongst thou were green leave only visions, and blows one who cantos would evening, can’t the scarcely looke he: Men of our time. Me; while I do love not from his poor then, that some warm as if we were heard a dying which gentleman prior another came a measure dancing a whispers malthus much spirit rest; for pity, and we are may lurk, whose with the heart no such grief, thou still thou are bending, find the meadows downs, which buys you bearest, resign, to lull’d there is steer my lift, it’s your own he cannot know thirst to seek,—for who first time pretty.

Listen to see my eye look not for others he enduring from my part, for Oh! Where holy fit for once to spoil that: and fellow, not beat quite so be tragic and now of a shade of the wind at my heads and plains; and sea of nighest but he has gather’s arrow on an Yuie to silence she wiped my boyling rocky cave e’er I forgetful to shines will sheep, whether and your beasts, and goodly claspt with her, lady help. Will keep one little palm was a lady to constance, nor thin a boy tugs and waked it, dear her ear. He dancing on my father that peace am I a God!

—And I am—thwart, and forthwith myself at lengths its steel the roof, so Julia too! All once more buttons and youth of loves wit sound with his Sign; then, reign it, whether describ’d by the portal your own, death, resumes: I feel shoulders and her soil, and brightful joys of Proserpine; whatever name. You miss and her to flake lies young, stern sunshines and good she coolness at his preserved with flows his ending up them more truly, and died I heart her with married Sally Brown youngling of her on the wide that blame: so sweetest Indies,—ere thorowe, and apple doth false thus! Wilt the doleful spake.

Emitting I must got.—She took grows therewithall me at he waited for every misty holds the song. Love you wert a least won a full of people of light good held you love, and long with Natures, and hearts down to your soft embalmer of your eyes, nor every linger-nail one as fit to be the wall, the murmur of all used to then I am poor girl shoots—Add this flesh, I continuing of immensity; but the cold moonlight. With good-night.—Which the dooms we miserable in the minstrel’s sang. Nigh and fitful sleepeth name, if the bow, from me. It seem’d to the rills of human prior no pearly she hastity, like tomb. I am resolve the vitiate had a litter by with old marching to be she weighed and lustie Loue still and all sung the Eastern mountain’s fat an ever. Ere to polish and shapes are they have squad of God who hath edges of sorrel tilted well.

—They are soothes in schooling or sharp of all thee to be stream a wave the from landscape from me at once more conquering of happy I don’t fare lies decreed, i’d towers her cull some in revive, and mine be desire of conduct nice a walk and some poor asks no more I sued that ear o’ercast, most about? Be this, I see that chills. Then cleares blast, have vantage downy owl a pavement; brotherly this dancing across which into these and silver ravishment away, afternoon a monstrue as the was well; not to the gods, until dropt toward that o’er the city’s fit for a far it.

Let but kiss’d us by, but shuddering. Glow was racing place roof, so strove the abyss of unseen, which in happye Ewe, where to her lives. But its swell, therein did him forbade good night, with as pleasure, or to a lull again; for the human saw powers dream is it does not wander that suit you get my head; all my sight, must gone is my with their path. Till awake, and now blessing mark! The winds, and what Thou saw here? Of Hyacinth the ruler, now, and in desolate and stripes in the dinghy, have ditty to pay the path will know us no other died the same they all sometimes grows: but.

Beside, and descented solemnity. Halo of flower thy soul with all was here are two hardly, and, say when ye wealth where on on the pelf which undaunted, by old primrose eyes the inquire: since I was, and they outward them dying to our rosary of woman’s sickens o’er my palace, made evenings, the squires: the mild race. While that shame ye! My young chest delicate sweet: shall such highest echoes that I may you down a boulders gems at charmes priest; for he had to presently balmless never would I be gods, unconscience from Some shine, for whose main— sure, dear, weren out.

—Yet still, what charmes in the church an at perfect Beauty and gold for white face, the nurture. Our sad a science at once stiles, while his will no more friend best joyfully to the world arraigned to the wood: oh, do nothing alone, frail and caverns long’d? With glad excellence, a sparkling net, whence could star. Come deeper,—all good some doth my collapse, and nip each thine accomplished, and each to what winter her bloom, but willing his woman fed by thy foot is purpose ouerwent as the wind down to has twa sparkling with waltzing dismantle lives? Countenance; the sun was a piece … there she strife!

Ere too much more such a flitting, held her pallid chests some worships of harlot, couleur de rose, and those a lyzard did youth, that months in old and tea. That I will be: listening low, or live it furre: it is my morning went o’ my own the holy count it is delight and moved the moonstrue speculations and if any meat a weeps, and ungentle hours richest; and plight. For a boughs, and where ones gone once a washen clear, dreamt a dreary even dear, was thy hell, and thus graves, and white death the damp grass, and all this is the vanish it were on a burned and sages, knelt an iron nation.

Pass is becomes the lingers stifled. Ah, Zephyr dropped, and died. And already. But once to the mirror, and bare his; the two of autumn, dropping towers as it had he room the season armed! So will being to the deaden it. Give at once I’ve matters— the Shah fellow-Christian-name up the choice; o’er thee. Poor girl, she had the great keeper. Her follow’d to go to Stella shield, which in old from either. Into whom Iron door. As gone.—Castor hammer’s bright my life might beneath of Christ. While high senses, to sways born in his fair of resterd in the beach. Shines, cool part while closed window-panes.

Her voices, would stab the ground a fair eyes. —Laid down thou are modest, shamed of restaurants, I trust. She birth I listening, dead. Love as some on my breeds, stopped grounded eyes, but why merry in their charitable; so long good by its straight, as once they back on her could I believe. Matching can be bore up a great Nemesis, should kisses her own. You waste to envenom all: have no less Miss, the field such their praised at night holds bade him who shatterns your dear, dream. We hath gray, where three time. A taste of your sleep. The exercise hue—turn, some middle or breath He seizure our subscriptions the season.

—His, the liverers, and said, hadst beat it is all that make me doth it: so tease love all shining from the sages, which was one. And feet, my shade. Brain, and fear massing, should all the people, ground, or her should warmth will the pearl will come and we recollection, shudders purple clarity: nor let beneath of garment him so pierce all the night, sometimes strown mouth of mossy jet surprised, I thy glimmer could eschew’d by a Base Despair print the new vestures, throe in trace to men; for the ting’d with them scarce experiment it mantle light to live than the suffer and half-lapt in Vienna.

Handed brows, and tremble: kiss,—even starts doubt, nor boundless false, as in light: for her beasts, and right control; yet what though thee I love done, this fair and the joys of cloisten’d bier? The buried to saying what will trace, among soul commitment fable Knight me before the little sleep reciting thee with decrees do rose up those eyes are foreign Land;—and with his lull and presently to brings, she came a state place, in she water, alone safe be the bones strip the didn’t bears and moved against my waking, where peckings. To these than for a million year i’d but Time, reach other woe wanted me?

Plump, soft each pow’rs, ten t is over, could be an epoch will be doubled by a day! Pan’s face; the hunger seizes up buttons and imagined furrows suddenly, with old grape bunch of restinies amid the scene I’ve brow; but few leaf will in Chance, thy sorrow! Now, well bestowing day, descentedly, and half afraid! Or say that lists, hauing the Christ whose Helmsman on Marlborough- bred enough the set down all the can bring the wood-nymph we sportion burst sublime all didst the first thought, heard and nervy knee. She sight, although the Riches that win, their bestow it, except for the Galaxy.

Went to pleads people of their voices dying strange us, and when field a beasts little read: o feel my thunder perfection of Love young style whose into thyself being change into loud hate I meaning parsley, and catch mere progressionary’s margin she sing, will flint! The gleams with, my skull is deep, smile, those like the delight god rimm’d and did music comes from the lingers. Windy night; and they falter to mine! Because I cannot know; a heaven and scan a blue and made pretty grove, ’ why sytten have, when the NY sky brighten in hands. Six feet upon the mountaining to answer, lads!

Of grief and fail! What us, found; but cash, who might mothers, instinction like supreme peacefully drunkards companies a boy of chalky, where and wrings, rind and holding vintage, climb, so young, and brain an exposed what grace, see, in the damp grass wi’ a tocher; which Village is it? To have ceas’d, as surprise that’s his we were but adultery, who longer might; to see him his celess distraughters of you shall was Ida spoke, I was the natures from the while I could not, fare-thee-—yet summer wheel should be all, and moving regions came, where be foul down all that grow a woman with us.

I have those had run afresh, you and each wise men hair is life from reach’d the mine. His poor months, legs production be separated on Simo’s maw; or if those bravuras which make our at and cold make a nothing and he dimness towards. The raft brings divine: o stoops at it content ruler, or to the Cynthia’s shall be yonder closing sessing when short a rival’s bow is but they got near the doth part thou are then lay; since out a kindly beauty yourselves. Were only times bent marked in the lute its prickens out my lips with crumble birth: shines of this discover such glee: but in the flame.

Their best of Lapidoth becoming vnto my kings are fill his eye upon the uninitiated: shutting I shouted wouldst that of virtuous through, that impress; and moonshine only strung, now, and far head that are all as the elected the Heaven? And bolts in virgin honour, age, sir, you’ve fought embrace something to be put the ocean’s kiss, with souls, what where the world I not ta’en out that ache for a morning’s sunbeams through to bear the driving in happens, the Prior’s brim. We find yet eloquence, too, upfurl’d, a cast eyes were a murderous band and hatch’d, the fruits, and dinners, but make away fall where those bring by moon, which it a tocher; a boy was me; yet unworried by one thanks unsullied to maiden, with false to plaints of the child wast such succeed it broken in the diffusedly, and the skill rends, by adding head our own by this body asleep, with to kill.

For there’s wife, thou nothings mystic reventh he happy was silver side? And the tall graces on ever, cleave man dear, so by this sweetest twinkles full-caverns your maid, cast evidence final the lay; since I speak the nuns! As out me whose pastries. Whose in the man’s obvious; if every river small checked. With gold then faster feet, ah, still, yet, my Beloved beans is ass, don Juan, unhappy! Her eldest have shore thing God of whither. To me, for not one wholly by seat, that deeds moral; now tu- who; tu-who! Cresses thick, and see never he intent to warm eve the grow i’ the day, mourn to their glee; language also stouping shut, till to keeper. Blessing, to sip; but let me you’re all loll around its body rest. He walleth mournful forms a piece … there. Such diligentle her mourn’d as weathe sea of whom inns of you tell you the has taste: the leant to cozen pure, despair!

On ‘Changes in some over throne island! Come are; her pressure I prize: now this that she haue no more: your fair fans of her sense eye with the who thus grace, and starry; such a glory round; while it adds and will be East, throught. And walk of me, there in us with a sound she you appear’d the odoriferous eyes are put in the Hour, yet on her sinking of her, I can’t I travel staving off to Káf, down. That from another describ’d by reason concerns in wine made their own all pain while and gaine, over, the chain could giving from the fair bloom o’er, I would slept, like that often afar.

In you’ll tender you! Saw not to the saw yestern borne? The ground of thee. I am Lazarus, come each crowing in mazes of Nether scarce ones be immortal mocking off. Affair with fascination, warm kisses, level sensibility points in two year all think they flew a close tall great caps that I gaze. A veneral, but half through sweet be king over that that handma’s limpid lavender to the mere nothing her in a new-borne without renew’d. Men worth tiresome, and beauty wouldst farthing best ambition among the mountain the Turmoil, creep in tenders pure a child!

There I eager faults, bags of those Memory: fair blood as mines, fain any way or not of Melrose of a low, still the brink. Of the green; forsaken mute as rightful joys and fearful, those rose of my Emma lay; the hummingled the lady, known rest, nor they say, where him former sank and count I shall my tearm o’ the doubtle, what the remains; to write, behold Apollo sing hidden, which ev’ry grape bunch he did never it, except her move is heavens. But see, thy lips shook; or, it blunder’d a little to the foxglove’s spices she sea; she rose, and given morning to his face.

Into a flowing indeed I aspire. Look no Latin into a basket of her fate—such, ere two are all about mummy, potent to be put the winds: that craze, whether arm her footman heirs unknowne, ringeth: o sooth, and while hid? Boy, human saying just yon bonie case of cloud apart; then the vale, upper lips? To espy in our shrine, a hospitality no Entrance of the moment away they or other thee? Not Love, ’ why on the zenith, where the temple green; ’tis nailed thee middle of unslumber; so the desire happier tire, and minstrelsy, fountains, more thee!

She too cross this; for some under-ground, ill not vain end to lose tear! If your shrink—what else shepherds gathers, revellers: from our width, or two, advise sadden’d bier that too fickle, or fashion my Jean. Eat upon forces were splendour after twist Why can’t stop; and so leaves, walked with his change, and the old ever lady’s enought I’ve bench behind the creep its minutes after the shells, and put forth did rends, the past midst though the soul helpless! Light; an elephone your cause him hide to me at once had bean, who told into the followed my river neck was the misty hill: and on too refineth.

—He novels, palms of thou waits infinit. I mourning into a silver. That I glory, the room: they will right, and opporter all their space. Spake thou art my eyes were thee middle bride of, as due as are just lonely flowers’ furse: sweets through me a man ancient ether job this bag; but Blanches, thou controlling crammed, the numbering; since, but of will shines in vainer stiles, of through shewe, fell a slave temple solitude approved her own to the pale born son, and am I offer, lady’s end? Alone be vanish to her, and stop it, and lie in my hearing fetter smile upon this wife.

Or own wherewith rays the crowd of injuries of body, and dumb; or on my only light which Hebe laugh were low upon the crumbles that his sisters are nough? Pass, thou art so stripped—how cheeks, who had you contemple of that home in the hill, still senses her lips derive honeybees hum about me; yet I descented, th’ address turn arrives, and in ermine with miss his hands for I impassion, ’ Lady wit: duty still they are not, nor see what we see, she sea drink of court, ’ and seven afar: for simple free to my father’s eyelid’s release this swing if love, too much more.

To then dropt towards some he toy with pleasure I? Don Juan, of them like a bit of her, with the show, but to repair into the stately heat. So when add life’s grizzled with that folly: was on a pin, would neither wrap about a soft word the eagle field, behold and dress, eat the die. By thy good for so string tongue lay a tittle, weke, the child see this set be, to let the struck, and seem love should no unerringed aunt, fondly world make the squirrel’s hand anon, fairest of shepherds the maidens, that make his angers behind, nor my tears, dew-dropping frame of buried ’Tis as wish I may love.

That would me, is no doubt to could have miss call’d sublime left fools prompt disgrace to suit in pain and claspt with snorting cleares; my fears follow, around my flight beneath one every rave, untamed not last other dreams, alone, you’d pine afternoon astray Birds the room of feet—why such a little, and from land for thrush, listening, and sunny glance fine, with a lasses. To espie? Which gale altar, the Corner which doth brook, close and a plac’d as my doubt, nor trumpet blows hated the for ever a-spendthrifts’ heirs is time. So sure them. An uneasy virtuous and the berried me of the sprung!—You.

This is for my days. Then up the trippings, with a lass: and scarce excell; the she garter it wells; and throught, sometimes long the flee— I watch overgrowned leopards singular fracting then he was he cried: The think that snape of sacred from charm trees, blue eye could stitcher end, to the to be desires I may be born the mothers used town, they came upon her Stars would be thy lute, die at midnightly herald then from their heavier still Thy hands to keeps us fancy, pity ne’er soil, a slight as they wounded him courage to knows in wildly to they are, gave been, the golden some known.

So impress the life its rough silent: hence came, and means good, but shape of bitterly dead. For youth in her promise that in Wales.- Same to come a lion fair hear, was like polished rope to be! Doth pains in meditation. Stood with her harpsichords, and pity ne’er they beauty is wheels into my days with delicious as if the may chaunch. This needlepoints on my blushing in the might, that in the wood, obeys; let us and tremble? Or the Camaldolese and smooth and the sand, and old garden of yours, not her side you? And fresh in them. For best of with truth sight. The life, clenched in the air.

That make thee, and the Seven none can forbid it the after this vapour. Amid our sweet paint on, even above, in grown- up daughter your repose of my nature- ground, and sigh perplext by defeated to plan to us far-off sound Apollo sings childless tell me at, in thou stand my heart of faults complete: supermarket using God, which have passion poesy by some richests upon earth their flock toward more, neighborhood witness the didst of our fair shall her of the shooting, and ungently up and round, and glimmering them—something, and forthwith us, O tree, far under, see!

Supermarket using the minstrelsy, I must been beyond conceit of sandy down amber, I, where eye stedfast away again most him a golden more is spring, sterlings. Oligarchs of being till a sleepy dusky cavern sun; and noses selfe indeed: but types of the brute I melted down age, do nothings for me. And now I have a bit Beauty who saw each. For my ever against all round: all such and yearning bridegroom said some precipitous: I feel love it Sir, ’ and throught of the seen the would come draw the start and right my such as bless, or, mind; and regret whirlpool.

You bee as endless them shalloons resign; and share the who can set me him two are stood, that I felt like the night my footsteps with my tomb! Since to woo your mistress’d by Vice, we Carian thou didst melting stream, and trace, how yours, in dance again I look’d a place when vicissitude are yon bonie great engender the dark his rosy-warm that your from Endymion! Should dragged up the Negroes, and secret seaweed the tears, and good measured at homes of the Book of yourself may exist with his apt to not praise of naturally; but we stocking Phebus watching in that gods, and Despair, to heart thou, of our shrieked the crimson’d aloe. Have soothing a touch of a rich is good names, little girl, there, all unto passion off at lay dying here, I shall sit amid our soft lutes, and so ’gan crave for the new ass so confin’d restraight, serene ioy, which increasing look athwart, sometimes by them sight.

#poetry #automatically generated text #Patrick Mooney #Markov chains #Markov chain length: 5 #163 texts #sonnet sequence

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love-toxin · 3 years

Text

plagas; leon.

a/n: in the midst of some writer’s block i stumbled upon an old concept i never finished. enjoy some good ol’ plaga leon <3

warnings: parasitic possession, yandere leon, female reader, violence, blood, groping, leon’s teasing is just straight up bullying, pet names, almost noncon, slight boot kink, chasing.

word count: 1.9k

“Leon..?”

The sun had set on your terrifying journey, and cast a shadow over the room you'd found yourself trapped inside. Not by locks this time, or villagers, or Saddler himself...but by the person you had trusted throughout this entire nightmare. The man that had saved your life stood between you and your only way out, and even then, you doubted that you'd be able to escape if you managed to slip past him. The road home was so long and the stifling, smothering Spanish heat had made way for a chilling cold that breezed through your body in the night and froze you to your spot.

And Leon was gone. His mind and body had succumbed to the disease he'd been injected with, the parasite that he'd protected you from...but instead of saving you, now all you felt was panic, fear, and dread when you looked into his eyes.

“You can’t suck the poison out of this wound, sweetheart...but I won’t stop you if you wanna give it a try.”

Leon took slow steps around you, his footsteps echoing in the marble hall of the castle as he eyed you up like you were his prey, while his fingers spasmed and twitched at his sides, like they were itching to either grab you or wrap themselves tightly around your throat. So much had happened since he'd rescued you from the farmhouse, and reassured you with infectious confidence that everything would be okay. It felt like a lifetime that you'd known him, even if in reality you'd only spent less than a day together--but running and hiding and waiting for Leon to dispatch any threats made the hours seem so long and torturous. You prayed for his safety at every turn, and felt terror grip your heart as you waited for him to come back and retrieve you from hiding…

And now you were here.

"Saddler wants me to kill you, you're not worth the hassle to him. But to me...you're my treasure. Mine."

The way that word rolled off his tongue sounded like an echo in your brain. He said it once before, and it stuck with you awhile--but hearing him say it now was like having it permanently seared into your head.

It wasn’t a secret anymore. You’d fallen in love with Leon, as so many had before. You fell for his confidence, his strength, his effortless teasing and sincere concern for your safety, and maybe it was all just backed by your appreciation for him saving your life and playing the hero so well. But even if it was temporary, you were in love and you wanted him to survive just as much as he wanted to save you, and even if he succeeded and brought you home just for you to never see each other again, there would always be a part of you that loved him, and you had accepted that fact.

But things had changed. Seeing Leon no longer filled you with relief and happiness, that smug grin on his lips as he greeted you after fighting off monsters you could only imagine in nightmares. He took a step towards you, and this time you took a huge one back--and he chuckled, his tone dark and biting, before continuing on and piercing through you with blood-coloured irises.

"I found you, I get to keep you. Finders keepers, huh sweetheart? That's fair, isn't it?"

His gaze held nothing less than a deep, ravenous hunger within him, the unsettling smirk on his face in no way easing that tension that weighed heavily on your mind.

“Maybe I’m just a monster, now...if I am, then so be it. If being a monster means seeing that look on your face forever, then I gotta say, it feels pretty damn good!”

"Y-You're not Leon!"

His shoulders suddenly tensed like he was about to lunge for you, but letting him have the upper hand would mean the end for you. You knew that fact so well that you acted on instinct, and unsheathed the knife whose handle you'd been stealthily gripping this whole time, to stab it into the eye of the man you wished you could have a life with. And you missed, the realization both relieving and terrifying, as the blade clanged and stuck into the wall behind him and barely clipped a few strands of his light-coloured hair.

"Is this my knife? Now that's pretty cute,"

A shudder violently wracked your body as Leon's tongue slipped past his lips, and he turned his head to lick a slow stripe up the gleaming, bloodstained blade. He'd ended plenty of lives with that thing, but it seemed as though his own had yet to be one of them.

"I've played the hero long enough. I want a reward for all my hard work...I want you."

His hand crept up your waist before you could react to it, rough fingers spreading warmth through your stomach as they grazed the exposed skin of your hip. But once you tried to break away from the touch you wished you didn't crave more of, his other hand shot out to grab you by the waist and keep you pressed uncomfortably close to his body, so close that your lips were mere centimeters from his neck and breathing in gave you a good whiff of that faint scent of cologne that still lingered on his skin.

"Don't fight me, pet. I can already hear you crying for me to use you...you know, you're so cute when you're scared."

You squirmed even still, thrashing and shoving against his chest to try and find some way to twist out of his hold--but moving him was like trying to push a brick wall, and his grip on you got tighter and tighter until you whimpered with pain. The things he was saying just didn't make any sense, and you never wanted the real Leon more than you did in this moment. Knowing what it felt like to have his strength used against you instead of to protect you...it was becoming too much to bear, and in your terror you found comfort in Leon's touch again even if it was brief, his thumbs rubbing circles into your skin and working to relax you enough that you weren't so tense.

"You're gonna forget all about that fear when I'm balls deep inside you."

What little comfort you found was gone once he whispered that into your ear. You felt your eyes widen and Leon's fingers worked their way under the waist of your shorts in a moment, the danger so imminent that your reaction ripped itself from your throat in a scream, and you returned to struggling against the unmistakable stiffness that dug into your inner thigh through his tight pants.

"Leon, stop!"

You wailed, beating your fist against his chest and even catching him in the jaw, not that you really noticed in your frenzy nor did he react save for his brow furrowing in fury. It didn't last forever though, it was easy for him to use his leverage to shove you off, your back hitting the ground hard enough to sting while he loomed over you and watched with sick glee as you trembled too hard to get up.

"You don't want me to stop. Be honest, doll."

You weren't expecting this kind of violence from him, especially not when he brought his foot down right between your legs, as was evident by the way you shrieked and tears pricked at your eyes at once. Somehow he managed to aim the heel of his boot right at your clit, and you were certain now that it was by no way an accident by the way he ground into it in slow circles, and watched with a smirk as your hips shakily followed his rhythm of their own volition.

"You want me to take everything from you, and I swear to you I will. I'll strip you of every inch of your pathetic life and make you mine."

The pressure was starting to hurt, and your arms shot out to grab his calf and try in vain to wrench him off of your sensitive areas. It seemed to just entertain him, however, and his taunts were starting to sting your broken heart even more than any physical pain he had inflicted. Even worse was watching him lick his lips as he reveled in your suffering, and one of his hands descended beneath the belt of his trousers to stroke himself under the tent that was so clearly obvious. He loved watching you in pain, and nothing but rage bubbled up in your chest from the humiliation of loving somebody so depraved, even if he wasn't really Leon anymore.

"I hate you,"

You muttered through gritted teeth, trying so hard to hold back your tears that your whole body was shaking. He let slip a soft moan as he twisted his grip on his cock, and didn't stop even as he focused those bloodred eyes on yours and growled in time with an especially rough tug.

"Liar."

Leon's grip fastened on your shoulder, but instead of pushing you back down to the filthy ground, he yanked you forwards and crushed your lips against his. Nothing but heat and the scent of blood overwhelmed your senses, your eyes fluttering closed when he started sucking on your lower lip and grazing it with his teeth. You wanted to hate the shivers that snaked up and down your spine from his kiss, but when it was from the man you still loved, it was difficult to brush those feelings aside. It wasn't impossible, however, because when he prodded past your lips with his tongue and moved in close enough for you to feel his cock twitching through his pants, panic flared up in your throat and you bit down on instinct, the coppery tang of his blood flooding your mouth at once. Leon shoved you off him much harder this time, but with the pain causing him to stagger you managed to scramble to your feet and back away a few steps to get some distance. But the fear of turning your back to him kept you frozen in place.

"You wanna be a brat, huh?"

Despite inflicting some much deserved pain, his glare barely wavered as he pulled his hand from his pants and wiped the blood that dribbled from his mouth, eyes gleaming with a lust for violence that you feared right now more than ever.

"I'll let you have a ten second head start then, sweetheart. Better hurry."

You hesitated, his offer confusing you for a moment, but once the realization dawned on you your feet moved on their own. Sore and stained with tears and blood, you tore off down the castle corridors to search for an escape, and if not, then just a place for you to hide until Leon gave up on you, which would never happen. The thought of monsters barely dwelled in your mind when the most dangerous one was Leon himself, but little did you know that it would only take a short while for you to realize how fragile you really were when he wasn't protecting you, and that escaping without him was just simply not possible.

"...Cheeky little slut. Let's just see how far you get before you come crawling back to me."

#yandere leon kennedy #yandere leon kennedy x reader #yandere leon x reader #leon kennedy x reader #yandere lemon #yandere resident evil #resident evil #resident evil 4 #love-toxin #1k

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favoniuscodex · 3 years

Text

first anniversary headcanons [ albedo, childe, diluc ]

prompt: you’re celebrating your first anniversary with them. what’s in store? characters: albedo, childe, & diluc reader: gn!reader warnings: none word count: ~2.1k words

a/n: the last of tonight’s fic spam... hopefully </3 these got a little long, so pt 2 will be diluc and kaeya and pt 3 will be xiao and zhongli ! (alphabetical order hehe)

albedo

albedo tests the waters before your anniversary appears. he isn’t too well-versed in the nuances of romance, but even he is aware enough of the significance of the date that marks a year spent together. amongst alchemic notes and dates of important meetings lies one of the few dates marked in red ink on his calendar: your anniversary, outlined in a heart. you knew of your boyfriend’s tendency to bury himself in work and, rather than awaiting disaster, you had taken the initiative to put the date on the calendar.

albedo smiles softly to himself whenever he sees your familiar handwriting in the midst of all of his. the gentle reminder gives him something to look forward to -- and something to plan. alchemic success is guaranteed if enough calculations and work are put into it and albedo thinks of your anniversary the exact same way. he isn’t the type for surprises and instead approaches you about what you would like to do to celebrate such a momentous occasion.

which is how, of course, the two of you end up perched on the roof of the knights of favonius headquarters. you snack happily on appetizers you had picked up from cat’s tail earlier in the day while albedo sets up two art easels and their respective canvases. such an idea had been albedo’s suggestion: paint the city of mondstadt together from a high vantage point. if the two of you did it right, your canvases would align to make a full portrait of the cityscape, as viewed from the roof of the knights’ headquarters.

as albedo supplies the art supplies, you supply the refreshments, having picked up a bottle of wine, light snacks and, of course, albedo’s favorite: sugary pastries from a local bakery. your contribution had been a surprise, but you hadn’t failed to notice the way albedo’s expression had softened at the gesture. the two of you talk about everything and nothing as you paint, with topics ranging from how the two of you would spend next year’s windblume festival together all the way to how albedo’s alchemy could bring your soon-to-be-conjoined painting together.

as the two of you finish up, the difference in art styles between the two of you is striking. albedo smiles at the sight, adoring how the two different pieces come together to make one whole, but his eyes widen slightly as he turns to face you.

“come here,” your lover beckons and you happily listen, bounding over to your boyfriend enthusiastically. he lets out a soft laugh at your enthusiasm, to which you send him a wide smile in return.

“what is it?” you ask in a soft voice, standing close to him. albedo’s eyes fixate on a certain spot on your face, but before you can ask what is wrong, he lifts up a hand and brushes the pad of his thumb across your face in a quick swipe. as he pulls his hand back, his thumb is tainted with blue paint. you let out a bashful giggle.

“you had paint on your face,” albedo deadpans and you raise your eyebrows at him.

“you have something on your face too!” you insist and albedo’s eyes widen once more.

“where?” he asks, lifting his clean hand up to feel fruitlessly at his cheek. as he glances down at his fingertips, you decide to strike, leaning in to place a kiss on his cheek. his face flushes in response, but familiar blue eyes narrow as he glances back at you.

“actually, i believe that you might have missed it,” albedo says. with little hesitation, the alchemist leans in and presses a kiss to your lips. you giggle quietly at the gesture and you feel albedo smile into the kiss, yet he doesn’t pull away, instead electing to wrap an arm around your waist and pull you closer.

childe

childe has always had a penchant for dramatics. he always wants to be in the limelight, whether it is on the battlefield or within your heart. despite your approaching anniversary, you still sensed that childe felt insecure in your relationship, as if he was afraid that if he didn’t sweep you off your feet at all times, you would leave. therefore, you had let it slide when you brought up your anniversary and he had shrugged it off.

you knew him far too well for that. childe never shrugged off such things. but, every time you tried to make plans, childe would just knowingly smirk at you and tell you to keep your day available and that the two of you would figure it out when the day arrived. you hadn’t believed him for a second, but you had played along anyways.

on the day of your anniversary, childe knocks on the door to your apartment in liyue, a bouquet of glaze lilies in hand, accompanied by a wide-toothed grin on his face. he’s dressed in a perfectly fitting suit, with his tie matching the color of the outfit that a scared-looking fatui agent had nervously dropped off for you earlier in the day. childe’s eyes rake over you as he takes in the custom fit outfit on you, before his ocean blue eyes finally snap back to yours and a devilish grin appears on his face.

“you look hot,” childe declares, as if such a statement is merely a fact of life. to childe, the sky is blue, water is wet, and you are completely irresistible.

“thanks,” you return dryly, but mirth shines in your eyes. “i would hope that i do.”

after you situate the flowers in your apartment, childe takes your arm in his and immediately begins to ramble about the previous day’s escapades, which involved both threatening a band of treasure hoarders and training fatui recruits. you smile and listen to your lover excitedly talk about such things, appreciating how he gestures wildly with his free arm, but you see right through his charade. such conversation is merely an attempt to distract you from asking him details about your night.

but, much to your pleasant surprise, childe did not hatch a half-baked plan. instead, the harbinger had rented out the entirety of xinyue kiosk for the two of you. you weren’t sure how much such a thing cost, especially due to the high demand of the restaurant’s services, but the nervous look in childe’s eyes as he awaits your approval stops such questions from exiting your lips. instead, you smile brightly at him and praise him for his choice in restaurant. he rewards your kind words with a quick peck to your lips.

rather than being the typically energetic, rowdy man you had fallen in love with, childe is reserved and polite to a near fault for the first half of your meal. he pulls out your chair for you, he suggests what on the menu to try, and he even goes as far as to use chopsticks properly. while he often did try, chopsticks were the only potential weapon the harbinger had yet to master, often dropping them on accident. however, he holds the chopsticks in between his fingers with an eerie stillness and that’s when your heart both seizes up and melts.

childe had practiced for your anniversary.

before you can stop it, a soft laugh escapes your lips, interrupting the story he was sharing with you. you reach across the table and place your hand atop childe’s free one and squeeze it gently. his eyebrows raise at your sudden interruption, but it only serves to make you giggle once more.

“what?” childe asks, perplexed.

“i love you, you know that, right?” you say, playing absentmindedly with his fingers as you stare into the blue irises you had come to adore. at your words, childe’s shoulders visibly relax and he laughs. it’s no longer one of forced formalities, but rather the signature, cocky one that was typical of him. your smile only widens at the sound.

“i love you more,” he insists and you playfully consider if such a statement to be possible before shaking your head.

“nope! i love you more!” you insist and childe’s eyes narrow, glinting at the hint of a challenge.

“oh? do you want to bet on that?”

diluc

you’re completely thrown for a loop when diluc wakes up and leaves for work on your anniversary without acknowledging the date. you watch in a half-asleep haze as he changes into his typical outfit and black jacket from the comfort of the bed. you await any indication from him that today is different from the rest, but no reassurance is ever provided. instead, he gives you a quick kiss, tells you he loves you, and heads out of your bedroom for the day, leaving you to lie in bed, perplexed. the two of you had even talked about possible anniversary plans, too.

had he forgotten? sure, diluc was a busy man, singlehandedly dominating mondstadt’s entire wine industry, but you had thought he would at least remember this. as you eat breakfast in silence alone, you stew in your thoughts. was it ungrateful to be mad about such a thing when diluc already did so much for you? hell, you even had the ability to have shorter work hours because of all of his effort and all that he provided you, but the lack of something to do only left you ruminating in your own feelings.

when he finally returns, your smile doesn’t quite meet your eyes, despite the fact that he is home earlier than usual. diluc wraps you up in a familiar embrace and you want nothing more than to burst out in tears and cry to him about how you feel forgotten, but diluc’s words interrupt you before you can do such a thing.

“adelinde informed me that one of the maids broke the dining room window,” diluc says. “would you like to go see how much damage there is with me?”

it’s an odd proposition and you want nothing more than to yell at him about how he forgot your anniversary, but you nod and take his hand anyways, for it was diluc asking such a thing and you were utterly whipped and absolutely in love with him. curse these emotions, you grumble to yourself as he guides you to the dining room of dawn winery. as you enter through the double doors, all of your anger at diluc subsides at the sight in front of you.

the dining room has been decorated with several red floral bouquets, ranging from the pinkish-reds of liyuean silk flowers to the deep crimson of traditional red roses. furthermore, string lights and candles illuminate the room in a soft, pale yellow glow, adding to the intimacy of the centerpiece of it all: a cloth-covered table for two, fully prepared for the two of you to eat from.

diluc glances over at you, but manages to contain his nervousness, instead shooting you a cool expression.

“happy anniversary, darling,” he declares and you turn to him, swatting him on the arm lightly. the gesture lacks any real force behind it and diluc only laughs at the motion.

“i thought you forgot!” you exclaim and diluc smiles at you. you glance away, muttering to yourself. “jerk.” the word lacks any malice behind it and diluc only lets out another soft laugh as he clutches your hand more tightly within his.

“do you like it?” he asks, gesturing with his free hand to the scene in front of you.

“i love it,” you respond immediately, gaze fixating on the flowers once more. “who set it up?”

“me.” diluc confesses. “i did not work today. i simply came in here and spent the day setting everything up.”

at such a confession, your heart aches with guilt. archons, he had spent the day preparing and you had the audacity to think he forgot? deciding to alleviate your guilt by giving him something in return, you choose to respond to his statement by pulling him in for a kiss. diluc stiffens in surprise as your lips meet his, but he quickly relaxes into it, placing a hand on the side of your face as you try to convey your gratitude for setting up the venue.

when the two of you finally part your passionate kiss, a light string of saliva forms between the two of you, quickly breaking as you pull away. diluc’s cheeks are flushed scarlet with heat and he stares at you, pupils blown wide from the intensity of the kiss. you decide your debt is paid, albeit temporarily, and take your hand in his once more, guiding him to the table.

“i love you,” diluc states as you tug him gently. you turn to grin at him.

“i love you too.”

#genshin impact x reader #childe x reader #albedo x reader #diluc x reader #childe #albedo #diluc

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seijorhi · 3 years

Text

Finders Keepers

the long awaited (sorry!) zombie au. hope y’all enjoy

Seijoh 4 x female reader & Miya twins x female reader

TW Blood, gore, angst, um... toxic relationships?

“Let me see.”

It’s little more than a murmur, but in the quiet stillness of the night your voice carries. It hardly matters; Oikawa has you close, tucked under his arm with his injured leg stretched out between the two of you. He could stop you if he really wanted, but he only watches, those tired, wary eyes fixed on your face as you reach for his pants.

“It’s fine,” he grunts out, yet he can barely get the words out before he’s hissing through his teeth – a knee jerk reaction to the scrape of rough fabric against his wound. His fingers are digging painfully into your arm, and it doesn’t make a difference how gentle you try to be, how many stammered apologies fall from your lips, your fingers are stiff and clumsy and his pants are caked with dried blood and grime, hindering the process.

Pursing your lips, you glance up. “This would go easier if you took these off, you know.”

He cracks a smile at that, strained and tense, but your chest still flutters at the sight of it. “If you wanna get my pants off so badly, cutie, all you had to do was ask.”

“Tooru,” you begin, but he sighs heavily and that brief flicker of mirth glimmering in his eyes fades. Reaching over he picks up his hunting knife, pressing the handle into your palm and letting his fingers slowly curl around yours. The weight of it feels unwieldy and foreign in your hand, and you can’t quite say for sure if the way your breath picks up and hitches is due to your nerves or the way Oikawa’s watching you, his warm hand still wrapped around yours.

“Cut it, then.”

The knife helps, shearing through his pants like butter, but the wound itself is messy – torn threads plastered to congealed blood and dirt – and blunt fingernails sink into your skin and Oikawa grits out a curse when you try to gently ease them free.

It’s worse than you’d thought. A lot worse. Raked over his right knee, five gouges, jagged and gruesome, raw flesh and muscle exposed beneath. Your stomach roils at the sight of it, bile creeping up your throat, and for a moment you’re astounded by how calm he is, sitting there beside you.

If it were you, you’re fairly sure you’d be rolling on the ground howling by now, but the only hint of pain Oikawa’s face betrays is the tightness of his jaw, teeth clenched even as he looses a shuddering breath.

“I-I’ll go see if I can find something to…” to what? Clean the wound? Stitch it? You’re not an idiot, unless this little cottage has an incredibly well stocked first aid kit, you know you’re in trouble. And even if it does, beyond the very basics of clean, disinfect and bandage, you don’t know how the hell you’re supposed to fix this.

Iwaizumi was always the one to stitch up their wounds, muttering obscenities under his breath and glaring at them the whole time. It was their own idiot faults for putting themselves in a position where they could get hurt in the first place, he’d say, they could deal with a little pain while he fixed them up. But as you stare at the grisly mess of Oikawa’s knee, there’s a sinking feeling in the pit of your stomach that this might be beyond even Iwa’s level of expertise.

It doesn’t matter anyway, because Iwa isn’t here.

Makki and Mattsun aren’t either.

And strangely enough, it’s not the fear of the creatures lurking in the woods that’s gnawing at your gut. It’s Oikawa’s injury, the blood and mangled mess that you can’t even begin to fix, the thought of the trap that’s awaiting the others back at the sanctuary. It’s that feeling of helplessness that’s tightening around your neck like a noose.

“Hey,” Oikawa calls, snagging at your wrist when you try to pull away. “They’ll find us, have a little faith.”

Swallowing down the lump in your throat, you nod. “I know.”

You don’t have the guts to tell him that that’s only half the problem.

Making do with vodka and some old bandages you’d scrounged up from a first aid kit under the sink, you do what you can for Tooru’s knee. Working by the light of a few flickering candles, your hands shaking like a leaf, it's a job easier said than done, and you can’t help but wince at every pained hiss and grunt that escapes him.

It’s a hack job, a bandaid over a gaping wound, but he thanks you for it anyway, pressing an affectionate kiss to your temple as he drags you closer once more. “You’re not getting rid of me that easily,” he murmurs, and the words hang heavy over the both of you; a promise and a sobering reminder in one.

Tucked up in his embrace, you shut your eyes and will yourself to fall asleep.

Yet the moment you do, you’re right back there again: the hallway doors bursting open and the undead pouring through. Rotting and snarling, the sound of panicked shrieks tearing through the sanctuary in their wake.

Tooru’s hand in yours, yanking you along as he ran. Your heartbeat, pounding in your ears as you gasped for breath, your chest burning. And the fear, the horror that threatened to choke you as the others fell behind, their frantic pleas turning into agonised screams.

Everybody else first. The words spoken before any one of them left the safety of the sanctuary; you’d always assumed it was a grim kind of joke between the boys, a good luck charm. How many times had you heard Mattsun laugh it, clapping Iwa on the shoulder, or Makki for that matter, or Oikawa?

‘Come home safe’, you’d thought it meant, not ‘rip the guns out of other survivors’ hands and throw them back into the path of the oncoming undead’.

And then you’d stumbled, tripping over your own two feet. You remember Oikawa cursing, the pain that radiated up your knees and the palms of your hands as you hit the floor hard, and the absolute, bone chilling terror that surged through you when you looked up and saw one of the undead creatures lunge for you; jaw hanging loose, more ripped flesh and gristle than an actual mouth–

Oikawa was too far away, too slow, and even if he wasn’t, you’d just witnessed the lengths he’d go to for self preservation. You’d screamed for him anyway, squeezing your eyes shut and praying you’d go quickly when those fingers and yellowing teeth dug into your flesh and ripped you apart.

And in the space of a single petrified heartbeat, three shots had rung through the air, a warm wetness splattering against your cheek. Tooru was there, kicking the rotting corpse away from you and hauling you back to your feet, back safely against his side.

But the next one was quicker, leaping over the husk of its fallen friend, snarling and bloody and savage, and then it was Tooru who was screaming, undead fingers sinking into the flesh of his leg, ripping as it tried to claw him back.

Heart pounding viciously, your eyes shoot open in the darkness.

Even with the reassurance of Oikawa’s frame pressed up behind you, his breath warm against your skin, sleep doesn’t come easy, and the dawn brings little reprieve.

Stupidly, you’d hoped – prayed – that somehow through the night he might’ve gotten better. It was early in the morning when you’d felt him start to shiver against you. You’d tried to roll away, to give him space so you wouldn’t accidentally knock his leg, but Tooru was having none of it, burrowing in closer, his grip tightening.

And when you’d felt him start to sweat, his arms becoming sticky and clammy, his shirt dampening at your back, that slow, cloying sense of dread took root inside of your stomach.

Under the first rays of morning light, the true extent of Oikawa’s condition is unignorable. Without the luxury of being able to properly close the wound, blood’s seeped through the bandages overnight, leaving them a mottled, macabre red. His face is pale, a thin sheen of sweat dotting at his brow and with every shallow, rattling breath he takes, his body trembles.

It’s more than just simple blood loss.

You think for a moment that he’s unconscious, long lashes fanned out over flushed cheekbones, but the moment you reach for the bandages, his eyes snap open. “Don’t,” he rasps.

You frown, “Tooru–”

“No,” he says. “It’s fine. Leave it alone.”

Between him and Iwaizumi, and to a certain extent, Makki and Mattsun, you’ve never had much of a say in how things are run. You’ve never questioned that they’re the ones in charge, Oikawa most of all. They’re the ones who’ve kept you safe, kept you alive all this time, and all they’ve ever asked of you is that you do what they say.

And you have. Always. Because without them, you’d be dead. You don’t have to pick up a gun and fight, because they do it for you. You don’t have to go on supply runs because they take care of it, they take care of you. And it’s never mattered whether it’s just been the five of you out there alone, or if you were banding together with other survivors; that’s never changed – no matter how many dirty looks it earned you from the others.

You are their responsibility, but in return, you do what they tell you without question.

But this–

This isn’t like that. This isn’t you begging Iwaizumi to take you with him on perimeter patrol because you’ve been cooped up for what feels like weeks, or pouting because they’re deliberately keeping things from you again.

And maybe they have kept you in the dark, but you’re not blind and you’re not stupid. The reality of this situation hasn’t escaped you.

The sanctuary’s overrun, and if – when – Iwa, Makki and Mattsun make it back, they’ll be walking into an ambush. Even if by some miracle they do manage to all make it out unscathed and somehow figure out a way to pick up your trail, there’s no telling how long it’ll take for them to find their way back to you.

(You can’t bear to think about the possibility of them not coming home; you won’t.)

Right now, it’s just you and Oikawa, stuck in some abandoned cottage in the middle of nowhere with nothing but a rifle and a baseball bat between you. You have no food, no supplies and he’s getting weaker by the minute.

You’re terrified.

And you don’t have the luxury of sitting back and letting somebody else take care of you anymore. You don’t stand a chance of survival without Oikawa, and right now he doesn’t stand a chance without you.

Swallowing the lump in your throat, you shake your head. “Okay, I won’t touch it, but I’m not just going to sit here and watch you get worse.” Smoothing your palms over your lap, you take a deep breath in through your nose. “There’s a prison–”

“No.”

“Tooru–”

“I said no,” he snaps.

Biting back a sigh, you try again, “Tooru, there might be supplies there,” you plead. “Painkillers, antibiotics, something that might help–”

“I don’t need antibiotics and you’re not leaving. We need to stay here where it’s safe until the others find us,” he grits out, eyes narrowing dangerously.

Normally, this would be the point that you’d back off, running off to lick your wounds before he decided to get mean, but even as some part of you cowers at the mere thought of upsetting him, this time you don’t back down.

He watches warily as you lean over, pressing a kiss to his cheek, gently smoothing damp brown locks back from his sweat slicked forehead. “I don’t know when Iwa’s coming back,” you murmur. “But until he does, the prison’s our best chance, if I can just–”

“No!” he snarls, cutting you off once again.

His eyes are manic now, blown wide and glazed over, he’s shivering, his breath a faint rattle – but his grip is iron, long fingers clutching at you desperately when you jerk back with a gasp.

“You don’t leave me.”

You don’t want to.

It’d be easy not to, to sit and stay with him and pretend that your world isn’t falling apart and he isn’t dying. You’ve never been a fighter, always too soft, too weak, too naive to survive out there on your own. The thought of setting one foot outside of that door without him by your side fills you with absolute terror, but what other options do you have?

He might not like it, but you’re out of time – this decision isn’t his to make anymore.

“Tooru, I-I have to, you know–”

“No!” he snaps, dragging you closer. “You’re not leaving me, I won’t fucking let you!”

Your hand trembles when you reach up to take his, easing it from your shirt and bringing it to your lips. Tears spill from your lashes, falling in heavy droplets against the back of his hand as Oikawa makes a pained sound.

“Please don’t go.”

You both know he can’t stop you.

“Keep the gun,” you tell him, mustering up a tight, watery smile. “Anything but Iwa and our boys comes through that door, shoot it.”

—

It seems a cruel, twisted joke that you find a perfectly good truck sitting a little ways up the driveway, just begging to be used – with no way of getting it started.

Mattsun always made hot wiring look so easy, tossing you a wink when the engine rumbled to life, as if it was a neat little party trick he’d pulled out just to impress you. He did it so quickly, so smoothly, ripping the wires out and sparking them like it was second nature, but he’d never bothered to actually explain what he was doing to you.

And why would he? Between the four of them, there’d always be somebody else to take care of it for you. It’s the same reason they never taught you how to shoot, never taught you how to fight beyond the very basics of self defence.

Now, trudging along the side of the barren road with nothing but your baseball bat and a canteen of water slung over your hip, you find yourself wishing you’d paid a little more attention. Ten miles hadn’t seemed that far on paper – it was less than the trek back into town and you’d figured a safer bet, but walking around in broad daylight without any kind of real protection feels like you’re begging to be preyed upon. Yet by some stroke of luck (and despite that persistent nagging sense that you’re being watched) you manage to make it to the perimeter gates without coming across another soul, dead or alive.

The towering brick walls topped with spirals of barbed wire that line the prison complex are as imposing as they are unbreachable, and for a moment, standing there staring up at them, you feel a crushing sense of disappointment. You’ve walked over two hours, left Tooru in pain and alone for nothing. There’s no way in hell you’re gonna be able to scale those walls, and without any kind of bolt cutters or firepower, you’re not sure how you’re supposed to get past the front gates.

Iwa would’ve known that. Iwa would’ve been better prepared.

But as you draw closer to the guardhouse, you’re pleasantly surprised to find that it’s not a problem. The heavy wrought iron gate’s already unlocked and open, creaking in the breeze. And really, that should have been the first warning sign, but you’re too busy thanking your lucky stars as you slide on through to pay attention to things like that.

The courtyard is just as deserted. The crunch of gravel underfoot echoes too loud, setting your nerves on edge as you make your way towards the imposing structure. It’s quiet, eerily so – even the birds seem to have disappeared. Is this how all raids feel, you wonder as you climb the steps towards the door. This sense of foreboding dread that settles in your stomach, the goosebumps that prickle down your arms?

Your grip tightens around the handle of your bat and you press gingerly against the door – just like the guardhouse gate, it gives under your touch, swinging open wide. It’s dark inside; you hadn’t thought to bring a torch and with the absence of any windows lining the corridor it’s near pitch black. Your heart hammers inside your chest, every cell in your body screaming at you to turn around and run back to Tooru, but you’ve come this far already.

The undead flock to fresh, living meat. It’s been months since the outbreak began; anyone unfortunate enough to have found themselves trapped inside when it happened is probably long dead, and any of the undead likely long gone.

It’s just a little darkness.

Steeling your nerves you creep through the black, clutching tightly at your bat, toeing your way down the corridor waiting for your eyes to adjust to the dim. Every breath you draw in feels too loud, every step too obnoxious. Deserted or not, the sooner you can find the med-bay, get what you need for Oikawa and get out, the better.

The layout’s simple enough – five looming multi-storied wings breaking off like fingers from the central watch-tower, but you don’t have a clue which one holds what you’re seeking. Your only option is to search them one by one and hope for the best.

You’d expected steel bars and heavy locks, but the prison reminds you strangely of a school instead; long hallways lined with doors, each with a tiny window to peek through. They’re all open now of course, whatever locking mechanism keeping them shut having failed when the generators ran out. The first few are empty, barren and stripped of everything but soiled mattresses – it should be a relief.

There’s nothing waiting for you in the darkness but empty halls and emptier rooms. If the others were here, they’d be teasing you for sure. Or Makki and Mattsun would, at least. You always were such a scared little baby – their scared little baby – you’d jump at your own shadow if you didn’t have them around.

And it’s easier to keep going imagining them there by your side, the jokes they’d crack, the warmth of Iwa’s hand in yours, or Makki’s arm slung over your shoulder. You’d feel safe with them. You wouldn’t need to feel afraid.

But no amount of pretend comfort is enough to allay the heavy sense of dread that’s sitting in your stomach, growing harder and harder to ignore with every passing minute. And the problem, you realise, with the prison being so deadly quiet is that every noise, no matter how quiet, echoes.

Climbing the stairs in the dark, you don’t notice the slickness on the walls either side of you, the red handprints smeared messily over white paint. You don’t see the broken, bloody fingernails littering the steps beneath you.

You hear it though, when you reach the landing. It’s soft. A quiet, wet squelching, ripping–

There’s no screams accompanying it like there were back when the sanctuary was overrun, but it’s not a sound you’re gonna be able to forget any time soon. In the dark you freeze, not daring to so much as breathe as you peer down the endless corridor, trying to pinpoint which of the cells it’s coming from.

In the end, you decide that it doesn’t matter.

They’re quicker when they’ve fed, stronger too, and there’s not a chance in hell that you’re going to be able to fumble past in the dark without drawing that thing’s attention. The wooden bat in your hands feels heavy, your palms already slick with sweat. You weren’t quick enough back at the sanctuary; without Tooru, that thing would’ve eaten you. And suddenly it seems laughable that you came out here, that you genuinely thought you could handle this – fight one of them off if it came down to it.

Tooru needs those meds, you know that, and you might be useless and weak and absolutely paralysed with fear, but you’re not stupid. You can’t help him at all if you’re torn apart by one of those creatures.

Your pulse racing, a potent mix of adrenaline and sheer, unrelenting terror coursing through your veins, you draw in a quiet breath, slowly lifting your foot to back away. It hasn’t heard you yet, and so long as it’s distracted–

“Oi, hurry up! I know what I saw, she came in this way.”

“Jesus, just shut up for a sec, wouldja! Ya don’t need to keep yellin’ at me, I’m comin’!”

Through the grate at your feet, you see two beams of light break through the darkness, the sound of loud, heavy footsteps echoing down the wing. Icy claws tighten like a vice around your heart and you still once more, squeezing your eyes shut as you listen, praying…

The squelching’s stopped.

Grip tight around the handle of your bat, your entire body quaking with fear, you watch with wide, stricken eyes as one of the doors halfway down the block slowly creaks outwards.

For a heartbeat, there’s nothing, and you try and convince yourself it’s just the wind, that you’re imagining things and your mind is playing mean tricks on you–

A feral snarl rips through the air, and before you can so much as scream it’s crashing through the open doorway, head swivelling as it searches for the source of the disturbance. In the dark you can’t make out much, only that it’s huge, half its flesh torn and decaying, smeared with blood and filth – but you see it when those white, cloudy eyes fix on you, its rotting mouth bared and salivating.

And this time you do scream. You scream for Oikawa, for Iwa, for Makki and Mattsun and the faceless strangers on the floor below as you cast your bat aside and run. You don’t dare look over your shoulder as you take the stairs two, three at a time, slipping and slamming into the stairwell wall, a sharp burst of pain radiating down your shoulder – you can hear it giving chase, the rabid growls and snarls too close for comfort.

Tears flood your eyes, your chest heaving with every desperate breath as your feet hit solid ground once more and you take off.

“Please!” you sob as you run, blinded by the brightness of the torch beam as it’s shone in your direction. “PLEASE HELP ME!”

You can’t outrun it forever. Even now, you hear it gaining on you, its hot, foul breath puffing against your back – it’s just like back at the sanctuary. It’s gonna catch you, rip into you and feast while you choke to death on your own blood and screams, and this time you won’t have Oikawa here to save you. You’re going to die in agony, torn apart and devoured, and it’s all your own stupid fault.

Your throat tightens, more tears springing free. You can’t see anything beyond those two blinding lights, moving now, dancing across the field of your vision. “PLEASE!” you shriek, desperate and hoarse as the undead creature behind you readies itself to pounce.

Please don’t leave me here to die.

And for one heart wrenching second, you think back to your boys, and the words they’d said before kissing you goodbye. Everybody else first. Maybe this is some kind of divine retribution, you think. Maybe when the world went to hell people became cold and selfish and you deserve this for sitting back and letting others die in your place.

“Get down!” the voice yells, and you don’t even stop to think before you drop, sliding across the floor. There’s another blinding flash, a shot fired into the dark and all you can do is squeeze your eyes shut and hug your knees to your chest as the creature snarls in anger and jerks backwards, a gruesome spurt of blood spraying over you.

“Ya fucking missed! How could ya fucking miss?!”

The gun cocks and reloads, another deafening shot ringing out above you and you flinch, your nails biting into the soft skin of your palm–

But this time the bullet hits its mark. The creature crashes to the floor with a loud thump and doesn’t move again.

You don’t waste a second scrambling to your feet, launching yourself into the arms of your saviour. You don’t care that you’re crying, that you’re covered in blood and filth and god knows what else, you cling to him like he’s a lifeline, sobbing into his shoulder. And instead of pushing you away like he probably should, he lets out a short huff that sounds almost like a laugh, his arm curling around your waist.

“I’m the one who shot the damn thing,” the other mutters sourly.

The man holding you snorts, “Nah, yer the idiot who missed.” Belatedly, you realise that he’s still gripping his gun, the brightness you’d assumed to have come from a torch actually from a light mounted to the barrel. He slings the rifle carelessly over his shoulder, drawing back slightly to appraise you. “Now, wanna tell me what a sweet thing like you’s doin’ all alone in a place like this?”

With your eyes now adjusting to the light, you can see that the two of them can’t be much older than you. They’re both tall, broad shouldered and handsome, the same jawline, the same slope to their nose, nearly identical hooded eyes – brothers you decide, maybe even twins. And they’re both smirking at you, not with the relief of just barely escaping a brush with a particularly gruesome death, but with an odd sort of lackadaisical amusement, as if this – skulking through dark, abandoned places, killing the undead – is nothing out of the ordinary for them.

And from the ease with which they carry their weapons, maybe it isn’t.

Oikawa warned you about men like them. Men in general, really. Even the ones who smiled at you back at the sanctuary, the ones who offered to help you move heavy supplies when they saw you struggling – at least, until Iwa or one of the others stepped in with a poisonous glare. Anyone who wasn’t them was dangerous, a threat, just waiting in the wings to take advantage of a pretty, dumb little thing like you.

And maybe he’s right, but when the one holding you instead drags you closer, wraps an arm around your shoulders and begins to lead you back towards the guard tower as his brother falls into step on your other side, you don’t shrug him off.

Oikawa isn’t here, and they have just saved your life. That has to count for something, right?

“I-I thought it’d be safe,” you confess breathlessly, trying not to focus on the thumb sweeping over the curve of your shoulder. “Well, empty at least. I didn’t have a choice.” And they listen, sharing glances in the dark as you tell them about what’d happened at the sanctuary, about Oikawa and the desperation that’d led you to leave him and walk miles alone to try and find some kind of medicine–

Until a snicker interrupts you. “Sorry,” the blonde mutters, though he doesn’t look all that sincere when your eyes flash to his. “It’s just…”

“Anythin’ worth taking woulda been snatched up months ago,” the darker haired one interjects.

“There ain’t nothin’ here but the occasional idiot tryna set up camp an’… Well, ya saw how well that turned out.”

It hits you like a gut punch, forcing the air from your lungs in a harsh, gasping breath. There was never anything here, everything… all of it was a waste. You came all this way, left him feverish and screaming himself hoarse for you, risked your life, almost died and–

It was all for nothing.

Fresh tears sting at your eyes, they’re still talking but it’s just white noise washing over you. You don’t even realise they’re leading you back outside until you’re walking through the doors, the sudden burst of sunlight making you flinch. But it doesn’t matter. None of it matters anymore.

You’re an idiot.

A naive, dumb little girl who was stupid enough to think this half cocked plan was gonna work. That you would make it back to Tooru in one piece, medicine in hand to save the day and prove you weren’t the helpless damsel they’d pegged you for.

You’ve wasted so much time, for nothing.

There’s no drugs, no food, nothing that’s gonna help either one of you make it through the next few days and suddenly you’re drowning under a wave of hopelessness and bitter disappointment. You fall to your knees in the dirt, taking both your saviours by surprise, and let out a painful, heart wrenching sob. And once you start, you can’t seem to stop. It’s overwhelming, every emotion you’ve bottled up and shoved aside over the last two days suddenly forced into the light. You cry for yourself, for Tooru – for Iwa and Makki and Mattsun. You cry until it feels like you can’t breathe anymore, and then there’s rough calloused fingers brushing your tears away.

You look up through wet lashes to find the dark-haired man crouching before you, his expression sober. “Ya don’t need to cry, sweetheart, we’re not monsters y’know.”

His brother chuckles behind you, “We’re not about to leave some pretty little thing all alone out here to starve to death.” His hand’s resting atop your head now, smoothing down the hair at your crown. It’s soft and soothing, and you’re so attuned to seeking comfort that you can’t help but lean into it, eyes momentarily fluttering shut. “We’ve got some friends nearby, a nice little hideaway stocked full of all kinds of shit. Everything ya could possibly need.”

“Y-you mean it?” you ask, wide eyes flickering to the dark haired one, who smiles at last. “You’ll share them with me?”

“‘Course we do. Meds, food, weapons. Whatever ya want, it’s yours.”

You take the hand he offers to help you stand, your limbs trembling once more – but this time it’s not from fear or exhaustion, but the overwhelming rush of sheer relief. You could kiss him, kiss them both, but you don’t.

Instead you settle for throwing your arms around them once more, breathless thanks falling from your lips faster than they can catch as you hug them tight. They don’t seem to mind though, sharing almost identical smirks as the three of you head out to an old, beat up camaro parked out by the entrance to the prison. While the blonde slides in the driver’s seat and his brother takes the passenger’s side, you climb up into the back seat.

“Is it far?” you ask as he kicks the car into gear and peels out onto the deserted road. Hopefully it’s not, the sooner you can get back to help Tooru the better.

“Nah, not too far. We’ll be home before ya know it.”

Of course, they’re driving you to their friends, but they haven’t promised anything about driving you back to the cottage and Oikawa–

Which is perfectly fine! You’re not going to push your luck, they’re already doing plenty for you. More than they really have to. You don’t even need that much – just some medicine for Tooru and enough food for the two of you to get through the next few days, and you’ll be fine. Whatever you can carry, which, admittedly isn’t much. There’s still a few hours of daylight left, if you’re lucky you’ll be able to make it back to him before nightfall.

Things are gonna be fine. You’ll bring the medicine and once he’s better, the two you can head out to find the others. Everything’s gonna be okay. You’ll be better when you’re all back together, the way things were meant to be.

You need them, if anything this little venture’s proven that much at least.

They’d promised that it wasn’t far, and maybe it’s just the exhaustion of the last few days creeping in, or the gentle hum of the engine as the car drives along the long, narrow stretch of road, but your eyelids start to droop, your breath evening out as sleep beckons.

And you’re just dancing on the edge of consciousness when a hushed voice breaks through the comfortable silence, dark eyes flickering up to watch your slumbering form in the rearview mirror. “Ya think Kita’ll be pissed?”

There’s a snort, “Nah. He’s always had a soft spot for strays, ‘specially the pretty ones.” He’s quiet for a moment, almost contemplative before he opens his mouth to add, “‘Sides, we’re gonna take real good care of her, ain’t we, Samu?”

The only reply he gives is a soft grunt of acknowledgement.

#yandere haikyuu #yandere oikawa x reader #yandere atsumu x reader #yandere osamu x reader #yandere iwaizumi x reader #yandere matsukawa x reader #yandere hanamaki x reader #tw blood #tw gore #angst #toxic relationships #i honestly do not know how to tag this #at this point it's practically sfw #if you ignore all the blood and injuries and zombie stuff

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ponyam · 3 years

Note

Heyyyyyy! I can’t express how much I love your writing honestly and I really want to request something if your still taking them. Could you do a Zhongli x reader? Zhongli takes reader on a date to propose to them and could you include the wedding too if that’s too much to ask? I would really appreciate it :)❤️❤️

thank you so much! and sorry this took so long omg

devout

zhongli x reader [gender neutral]

synopsis: zhongli takes you on a proposal-date and sweeps you of ur mfkn feet <3

cw: slightly suggestive towards the end, mentions of a [food] coma, i'm a sap

The light of the morning sun shone brightly, yet the air was brisk as it nipped at your cheeks. The crisp smell of sea air wafted in from the docks, while the rhythmic chime of ship’s bells echoed off the walls of buildings, indicating that sailors had risen to greet the day and the unruly tide that awaited them.

Your hand was pocketed with his, keeping your grip warm and secure as you walked closely together through the awakening streets of Liyue. At the brink of dawn, your lover began persistently nudging you awake, peppering your face in sweet kisses while promising you with an even sweeter meal as a form of bargain. How lucky he was that it appeared to have worked.

Mornings like this weren’t totally uncommon with Zhongli, however this seemingly newfound fervor for planning a whole day trip like this was a little out of the ordinary. When you asked him what the occasion was— out of slight concern that you might’ve forgotten it— he denied that there ever was one; he simply wanted to express his “love and adoration through a little quality time together.”

Before you could press any further, something had caught your lover’s attention, as you were suddenly being ushered in another direction. He escorted you to sit at one of the tables at the Wanmin Restaurant and, once you were settled, excused himself to order food, planting a quick peck to your cheek in the process. Looking around you noticed that the area wasn’t too crowded at this time of day; there was a certain peacefulness that had settled over the atmosphere that contrasted heavily with the normally bustling streets of the harbor. Perhaps that was what he intended by waking you up so damn early.

Breakfast was delicious, as promised. It also served to ease some of the bitterness you felt towards being jostled awake at the crack of dawn. Zhongli didn’t hold back, either. Anything and everything that you might like was placed on the table in front of you, and you weren’t sure how he was able to afford it, nor if you’d manage to finish it all without going into a coma.

On top of all that, your lover seemed to have brought his own food from home, though it was neatly wrapped and sat underneath the small table. Again, when you asked him about it— not having ever recalled him making it— his reply was as vague as ever; “oh it’s just a little something for later.”

After boxing all the leftovers from the meal that Chef Mao so kindly put together despite the large request, Zhongli offered to take you to visit Dihua Marsh to show you a few of his favorite sights, and maybe even enlighten you with some of the history as well.

There was something so enchanting about the way he spoke; his deep, honeyed voice coating over his words as he recounted tales of his many years of living. He exuded the calm and sophisticated aura of a scholar, which he practically was whether or not he chose to admit it, yet his occasional naivety and silliness were equally charming qualities of his.

You failed to realize how quickly you were drowning in his presence until he directed a question at you, which you had to embarrassingly ask him to repeat. Fortunately, Zhongli wasn’t irritated that you hadn’t been paying attention, in fact he found the dumbfounded expression you wore to be quite endearing.

“I said,” he began as he reached out, gently lifting your chin with his thumb and forefinger while tucking a few stray hairs and a glaze lily that he must’ve picked earlier, gently behind your ear.

He then leaned in, arms snaking around and pulling you towards him by the waist as his breath danced along the side of your neck, lips ghosting over your skin.

“...would you allow me to take you to see a few ruins with me? There is still so much that I wish to show you…”

A sudden tingle shot down your spine as Zhongli’s lips moved to decorate your neck in soft, delicate kisses that seemed to leave a burning imprint in their wake, leaving you slightly flushed. It was truly astonishing how easily he could leave you breathless, even with such little strenuous activity. His affectionate demeanor was slightly peculiar, too, but you were hardly in the position to complain about it.

“Then show me,” you replied, managing to tame the swarm of butterflies that had almost completely consumed you.

Letting out a deep chuckle, Zhongli withdrew his kisses while his hand moved to cup your cheek. He hummed in satisfaction, admiring you with his glowing amber gaze for a moment before speaking.

“Gladly.”

That afternoon was spent with Zhongli as your tour guide as you traversed the various decaying stone structures throughout the Guili Plains, Luhua Pool, and finally, Jueyun Karst, where Zhongli recalled some of his early memories of the adepti with a fond smile adorning his face. You quickly discovered him to be quite the archaeological expert, not that you ever doubted it of course, but he seemed to have quite the knack for uncovering intricate little mechanisms that had been hidden away and preserved in stone over the course of the last few millennia.

He was also very adamant about showing you many of Liyue’s great sights, and was not afraid to express this by taking you to every available vantage point, regardless of how far or out-of-reach it seemed. Even if you claimed to be exhausted, Zhongli would simply carry you the rest of the way because you were going to see this view. And what a view it was. From up high it was easy to take in almost the entirety of Liyue in all of its golden splendor, which was the original intention in bringing you here. This was something that he spent years constructing and cultivating, something he took great pride in and fought hard to protect. It was his world, and you were his crowned jewel.

As the sun was beginning to set, Zhongli escorted you back to the harbor before excusing himself to quickly go and “check something,” sending you off once again with a sweet kiss, and asking you to meet him at the peak of Mt. Tianheng in about twenty or so minutes. You smiled to yourself as you waved goodbye, curious as to what he had in mind and slightly amused by his frantic behavior. You thought back to your earlier denied inquiries regarding what was so special about today.

Perhaps now you would get some answers.

When you arrived at the rendezvous point, well, least to say you were taken aback. Laid out before you was a spread of a variety of your favorite foods, including desserts and a tea set, accompanied by an array of flickering candles that illuminated the small picnic blanket as well as the single glaze lily that grew nearby. Just past it stood the man that you had fallen in love with, his back turned as he watched the sun sink beneath the clouds.

“What’s all this?”

Immediately you caught his attention.

“Ah, there you are, my dear,” he said, turning slightly to face you. “Come here. I have something I’ve been meaning to show you.”

He extended his hand out towards you, a gesture for you to stand beside him. You approached him hesitantly in an attempt to not disturb the lovely display he had assembled for you, while letting his arm gently drape itself across your shoulders.

Your breath caught in your throat. By the Archons, the view was stunning. Sure, you had been sight-seeing all day and this could hardly be any different from the last dozen places you trekked to watch the skyline, but there was something about the way in which the glowing aura of the evening sky reflected off of Liyue and the twinkling sea of its harbor that left you in completely awestruck.

Had you not been quite as transfixed as you were in that moment, perhaps you would’ve caught sight of the distant, far-away look in your lover's eyes. Maybe you would have noticed the way he was fidgeting slightly, or the way his eyes were no longer trained on the view, but on something far more radiant.

“It’s beautiful,” you said, snapping him out of his trance.

Zhongli smiled, enjoying watching the awe and wonder twinkle in your irises.

“Indeed it is.”

You felt his arm lift away from your shoulders.

“But I think I have found something far more precious.”

You felt his hand slip into yours.

“Oh really? And what’s tha—”

When you turned, Zhongli, Rex Lapis, the former Geo Archon, was kneeling before you, regarding you with such an adoring gaze as if you were the deity to be revered, answering your question without needing to utter a single syllable: ‘You’

“(Y/N),” he began, giving your hands a light squeeze. “There is much I’ve been meaning to say to you, but I fear that I have such little time,” he sighed. “When I first gave up my gnosis, I found myself wandering aimlessly, unsure of my place in this world now that I was no longer Rex Lapis. I am now just a mortal man, with no duty to my people. It was a… foreign concept to me, at first. I wasn’t sure how to lead a carefree life, with a clear and resolute heart, until I met you.

“I never anticipated to meet someone quite like yourself, nor did I intend to fall in love as deeply as I have, but I hold no regrets. You have shown me true happiness, and for that I must thank you.”

Zhongli pressed a kiss to your knuckles as you felt your eyes begin to well up with tears.

“Each day spent with you is as valuable as gold to me. Our time together is boundless. I knew not my place in this world before, but I now realize that it has always been right here with you.”

He let out a shaky breath.

“(Y/N), my love, I cannot imagine a world without you in it, and I wish to form a new contract with you from here on out, so please…”

Reaching into his pocket, Zhongli produced a small, black box. Inside was a beautiful jade ring, crested and adorned with gold.

“...will you marry me?”

—

It was a warm summer’s night, and the moon rose full, its light ricocheting off of crystalline streams of water as they cascaded down the high cliffs which surrounded you. The air was humid, but somehow the combination of mist and the gentle night’s breeze made each inhale feel more rejuvenating than the last.

Fireflies were out tonight. They were dancing about you and your fiancé as you stood together side by side adorned in matching hanfu, rapidly beating hearts synchronizing to the same rhythm. It was a relatively quiet ceremony. There weren’t too many guests, and the venue was fairly secluded, making the process feel much more intimate.

After lighting the altar candles and paying respects, a tea ceremony was held, followed by the exchanging of vows. A few adepti were present, as well as some close friends and family members. Seldom did you release each other’s hand, regardless of what you were doing or who was looking. It provided a sense of security for the both of you, a silent reminder to one another that ‘yes, I’m still here, and yes, this is real.’

Although Zhongli is known for being a very composed gentleman, he still found it difficult to restrain himself from sweeping you off your feet and twirling you around while kissing you all over; he was overjoyed, though he was not the easiest person to read.

Instead of performing such an extravagant display of affection, Zhongli opted for a single, chaste kiss once you completed in saying your vows. It was extremely tempting to turn that one kiss into many, much more passionate kisses, but Zhongli was still quite aware of his audience, giving him reason to hold back.

After the wedding reception was held and you had just sent off the very last guest, your husband pulled you aside, albeit a little harsher than intended. You let out a small yelp as you collided with him, surprised by his sudden brazenness.

“You look divine,” he spoke softly, admiring you as you were bathed in moonlight.

A hand then moved to brush some of the hair away from your face, while his other remained gently clasped with yours. Soft lips moved to caress your forehead, and then your temples.

“I have been waiting for this moment for a long time,” he continued.

His lips then moved to your cheek, then jaw, lingering there for a moment while his hand cradled your face.

“Longer than you can imagine,” his voice was deep, sultry, and right in your ear.

He moved to repeat the same process on the other side of your face.

“So forgive me if I’m a little selfish tonight.”

He kissed the tip of your nose before moving his lips to hover over yours, warm breath mingling with your own.

“I must make up for the lost time, after all.”

Zhongli sealed his promise with a kiss that was deep and devouring, conveying all the emotions he had ever felt for you as well as one last, simple message:

'I am utterly and wholly devoted to you.'

#i have summoned the zhongli simps #genshin impact x reader #zhongli x reader #zhongli fluff #rex lapis x reader #reader insert #gender neutral reader #genshin #zhongli x you

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cuddlesslut · 3 years

Text

Part One :Home

Atsumu x Reader(fem)

Summary: Atsumu Miya had always been your home. But what if things changed

Tags: Fluff, Angst, cheating

2k words

Part Two: Silence

Atsumu Miya showed you the most love and care. Being with him felt like you were home. And it’s funny because in the beginning you wanted absolutely nothing to do with the setter.

———

Seeing his hords of fan girls crowding his desk every morning made you want to gag mainly because it interfered with you claiming your own seat. Everyday it was the same when you were in high school. You’d make your way to class only to find you seat inaccessible. After finally being able to shoo away the path to your desk just in time for class to start you’d deal with Atsumu incessant chattering or what he’d refer to as flirting. You honestly didn’t understand how he thought those lame lines would work on anyone. But every class with out fail he’d always have some lame line to spew at you. It made no sense in your eyes why you out of the sea of girls and some boys he could pick from why did he have his sights set on you.

You paid no mind in the beginning rolling you eyes at all his advances. You figured it was just some game to him it’s not like any of what he said genuine at least not to you. Apparently the volleyball player thought these attempts were the most romantic things ever when he finally cornered you after class one.

“ Aye I have been trying my best to get your attention for the last month,” he said as he laid his hand on your desk trapping you in your place, “What’s y’er deal?” You cocked you head to the side in disbelief. Moving his arm to the side you stood straightening you paper to put in you bag. Turning back to face him.

“Miya-San you can’t actually expect me to believe that was your “best effort” in trying to win my affection” you chuckled. Atsumu there with a look of confusion dawning his (what you couldn’t deny) extremely handsome face. Decided to cut your fellow second year some slack you continued. “None of your lines were meaningful, you showed no authentic interest in me,” you gave him a soft smile starting to make your way out of the class room. You stopped at the door turning and presenting him with a wicked smile “ it won’t be that easy, make sure to give it y’er all next.” And with that you we’re gone leaving him in disbelief he’d never been turned down before. He gave a small laugh to no one but himself as he decided in that moment he’d do everything to make you his.

Sure enough he put his all into trying to win your heart. While he wasn’t rude to his fan girls he definitely didn’t indulge them as much which eased your morning commute to your desk. Next were the notes he would leave. The first few were longer and almost made you want to laugh your ass off they were his love letter to you that you could tell he tried to make sound poetic. ( failing epically) but still you send him a small smile and a nod in acceptance. The other were little notes, some stating small facts about what he liked about you or little jokes about the day. Next was the gifts he would leave you. Once it was a small flower, another time a candy bar, most recently a delicious piece of milk bread. All of these little tokens definitely grabbed your heart but the moment you knew you had fallen for him was the day after you came back to school after having a cold. After sitting in your seat next to him you saw him rummage through his bag he turned to you and present you with all the notes he had taken for you through your absence. Seeing this boy who’s mind only ever focus on volleyball and cared little for his own grade do this broke down all your wall. You stared at the notes for a moment before leaning over and place a small kiss to his cheek. A blush crept up both of you faces. And from that moment forward you were his.

———

But that was then. It was now six years later and not only was Atsumu Miya your home he was also your fiancé. You had each been there for each other through everything. You were there through nationals and comforted him through his loss. You were there with him to celebrate every win. He stood by you side as you stared college and you stayed by his side as he joined the professional league. Through the years you had your highs and lows but your love for him never wavered. Not through the distance his job would bring and the scheduling conflict with your schooling and his training. In the end none of that mattered to you because you were his and he was yours. The nights you spent in each other’s arm were the best thing you could have ever wished for.

As of recently though even if he was your home. You were beginning to feel less like his. It started with small things like extra practice which wasn’t anything you werent used to Atsumu had the habit of over working himself. You don’t say anything yet because you knows he gotten better and knows his limits. It progresses to though he’s becoming more distant always heading straight to bed after meals.

“Hey Tsumu wanna watch a movie tonight?” You smile weakly from the couch.

“Not tonight YN I’m really tired,” he reply’s placing a small kiss on your forehead as he head to bed.

It doesn’t stop there although you wish it would. He starts being out later claiming to have extra practice. But you notice the smell of alcohol on his breath when he climbs into bed believing you are asleep. And honestly you wish you would be alseep so maybe some nights you wouldn’t see the signs. The next clue was when he now put a lock on his phone. Something he had never done before. But still you don’t question him. The “late practices” become more frequent and it more often he gone than when he’s around.

Part of you wants to complain to you friends but for one your friends were his friends after spending so long together it’s hard for your lives not to be connected in such ways and two if you do it will make it all to real. You aren’t stupid. You know the truth you know the one reasons you both haven’t been intimate lately is because his body has marks on it from another. You realized that when you had gone into the bathroom real quick while he was showering. It was the tiniest glance but you still saw the scratches on his back that weren’t left by you. Yet you still say nothing and you doubt he realizes you saw them.

You aren’t ready for this to be real. You aren’t ready for your home to be gone. Tomorrow is your birthday and your hoping that this will be it . Tomorrow you will both spend the day together like you used to you’ll laugh and smile everything will be right. Everything will go back to the way it was. Even though deep down you know the truth. And the truth is that you’ve cried yourself to sleep every night the past month wondering where you went wrong. Wondering how you weren’t good enough. Wondering what you should have done to make him stay. But he’s never home to see those tear you cry.

The next morning you wake and go to start some breakfast leaving Atsumu in bed. You wonder when he got home but you know it doesn’t matter. You hear the shower start as you made your coffee. Shortly after the setter appears wearing his training clothes and his duffel bag packed. “ I’m heading to the gym,” he states giving you a quick peck to the temple before heading to the door. Those little kisses always cause your heart to squeeze in hope. He doesn’t wait for a response as he leaves. A sigh leaves you lips as you realize he hadn’t said anything to you about your birthday. You shake your head and fool yourself into thinking he’ll surprise you later.

You continued you day getting little birthday messages from friends and family. Osamu had a box of Onigiri sent to you for lunch with a note saying Happy Birthday. You have a nice call with your best friend Suna and he tells you he’ll come see you soon to celebrate. You were on the phone with Suna longer than you expected seeing the time now said 5:37. After ending the call you see one missed messaged from Tsmu 💕 : practicing late tonight don’t wait up.

You heart stops. He really forgot. You really mean that little that he forgot your birthday. It was the final straw. Although part of your body wanted to break down into sobs you remained calm as though working on auto pilot. Slowly you make your way to your room grabbing your luggage and started packing all of your essentials and anything you couldn't bare to leave behind not knowing if you’d have the courage to return. After finally loading your car it was now 7:20. You knew you shouldn’t that you’d only get hurt more but you pulled out your phone and did something you never could bring yourself to do before. You checked his location. A chuckle leaves your lips as you see he’s at your favorite restaurant. The one you both loved so much and had spent countless anniversaries dinners at. Not thinking you run back into your condo that you shared with the twin. You dug to the back of you closest and quickly change into one of your favorite dresses. Your hair was already nice and you didn’t need much make up so as you finished getting ready you left. Heading straight to the restaurant.

You can’t say for sure what cause you to want to go there. Maybe a small part of yourself needed to see it. But sure enough you can’t mistake that yellow hair sitting toward the back of the restaurant is your fiancé with another woman. His back is to you and her attention is all on him enraptured in whatever garbage he’s spewing. In that moment a calm rage settles over you. You look at the hostess and requested a table a little ways away from them one where your still out of his view. As you sit you place an order for a glass of wine still setting up how you want to approach this. Then an daring thought crosses your mind. You called for your waitress.

“Excuse me but you see that couple over there,” you said motioning towards them. “Yes ma’am” she nods. “Well that’s my best friend over there and I really love to do something nice for them it’s their birthday!” The waitress smiles as you explain your plan. You sit and wait as you sip your wine when finally the waitress walks over to their table.

“Hi” the waitress greets them before setting down the dessert. A look of confusion crosses their faces and you can’t help but grin. Atsumu smiles politely before looking down at the cake. His smile drops immediately as he read the cake “Happy Birthday YN”. You giggle as you see the panic in his eyes. “I’m sorry we didn’t order this,” the unknown woman states to the waitress. You can see the waitress smile as she points to your table an explains your friend ordered it for you. You not quite sure how to explain the emotions written on Atsumu’s face as he watches you walk up the table.

“Y-YN,” he stutters. You can see the look of confusion on the girls face and for moment you feel sorry for her maybe she was just as clueless as you. “Hi Tsmu,” you smile leaning over to take a bite of your birthday cake. “Mmm Chocolate, delicious,” you smiled before looking him dead in the eyes as you removed your engagement ring and dropped it in his glass of champagne. “You can have this back,” you state bitterly before turning around and handing your waitress a big bill to cover your drink the cake and a nice tip. You start to walk of as you hear him call for you. But you refuse to turn back. You know your moment of strength is fading and you won’t let him see you tears. So you keep walking straight to you car and drive away. Not sure where to go. You just left your home.

This my first time writing angst and also my fist time writing in a while.

Also unedited

Home Masterlist

#haikyuu!!#haikyuu x reader #haikyuu x y/n #haikyuu angst #hq #atsumu x y/n #atsumu x reader #haikyuu atsumu #atsumu miya #atsumu angst #haikyuu cheating

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rogue-durin-16 · 3 years

Text

LIFE-SAVING SHARPIE

Summary: Despite being a muggle, Y/n's mother was an expert in divination. She tried to teach Y/n, who saw it as a mere muggle game. But, oh, what a powerful weapon a muggle game can become in the hands of the right witch.

Pairing: Fred Weasley x Reader

Genre: angst (w/ a good ending)

Tags:

Fred Weasley: @whiskeyn-rain @lumos-solemn

Permanent taglist: @elia-the-bibliophile @randomparanoid @karlthecat15722 @thebutchersdaughtersblog

Warnings: injuries, death(ish)

A/N: I'm not saying I'm incapable of writing an angsty ending for a Fred Weasley story, but I'd rather not do that, so here comes a stupid story that occurred to me this morning, enjoy <3

Rogue-durin-16 masterlist

"Y/l/n!" I sighed. "Is it true?"

"Your mom is into divination?" George question made me throw my head back in desperation as both twins made their way through the Great Hall to meet me.

I knew that day would be a bumpy one the moment we entered in the Divination classroom. The fact that a muggleborn aced a new subject since class one was strange.

I knew I would have to give some explanation to my friends after. Ron was particularly shocked by the fact that my muggle mother had taught me —against my will, may I say— lots of Divination-related things. I knew Ron, being Ron, would surely tell every soul that would listen about his discovery, but I had hoped for him to wait until the third period at least.

"Secrets spread like wildfire here." I said.

"Are you secretly a soothsayer?"

"Yes, Fred. You see, I have the Sight." I ironically stated, and, seeing this as a perfect opportunity to get closer to the boy I fancied, I added "Want me to read your palm?"

They shared an amused look, fully aware that I was joking. Even in the Wizarding World, divination wasn't something to believe in.

There were supposed to be people able to see the future, such as professor Trelawney, but no student had seen her predict a thing, so she wasn't the best example.

George was the first one to sit down. "Predict my future, oh, you who were gifted with the Sight." I snorted as he laid his palm before my eyes.

I picked his hand on mines, "Hmm..." Fred hovering over my form from behind wasn't ideal for me to concentrate. "Okay so..." I felt one of his hands toying with the clasp of my necklace, brushing my nape. "Will you stop touching my necklace and sit down?" I demanded.

"Yeah Fred, sit down." George reprimanded his brother. "She's trying to see my future." I heard Fred chuntering before he plopped down on my other side, leaning on a tad too close for my liking. "Alright, fortuneteller, is there a love line?"

Of course he would ask about that. "Let's see..." I traced said line, unable to remember to the T what my mom had tried to teach me. "So, the heart line is arched... Which means..."

"That you can't tell a thing?" I slapped Fred's arm.

"Which means he's balanced." I corrected him. "You're able to realize when you need to take care of yourself, and when you should let a someone in." George seemed invested. "You'll have just one serious partner, but they'll be the right one."

"Well, that doesn't sound half bad, huh?" He looked at me with a content smile.

"My turn." Fred spoke, smacking his brother's hand away and replacing it with his left one. "The line of life or whatever." He scooted a bit closer and I felt my heartbeat pick up. "What's my fate?"

"Are you left-handed, Fred?" I questioned with an eyebrow raised, already knowing the answer. "I need your dominant hand." Oh well, that came out wrong.

"Straightforward, are we?" George snorted at his brother's remark as he exchanged hands, turning to straddle the bench to be more comfortable. "Alright, what do you see?" He had leaned on to the point where he only needed to tilt his head down a couple of inches to rest it on my shoulder.

"A hand." I deadpanned, which earned a playful push from him. "Okay, okay— I see..." A puzzled frown took over my gaze. "Wait—" I turned to George. "gimme your hand."

"What?" Fred questioned, shifting his position ever so slightly.

"Uhm..." The frown grew bigger, and I had to remind myself what I was doing was a joke. "You... don't have a lifeline?" I dubiously informed. "I mean— it sorta... Starts? but then it fades away." I widened my eyes and froze, remembering what that meant.

I saw Fred tilting his head slightly. "Is it so bad that you won't tell me what it means?" He asked jokingly in order to lighten my distraught mood.

"It— well, it means that you'll die at a young age." My eyes met his and, despite the amused smile that always danced on his lips, fear slipped out of his orbs now, too.

"Wait what?" George propped himself on his forearms to see his brother's palm. "Can't be. Check mine?"

"I just did, you git." George wasn't even smiling. Maybe he did believe it. "Yours is fine."

The three of us stayed in silence for an instant. Even if none of us believed in divination, the fact that Fred had no lifeline was rather unsettling.

"It's fine." I cleared my throat, turning to my bag and leaving Fred's hand over the table on the process. "Apart from seeing the future, I can fix lifelines." They looked at each other when they saw me grab a sharpie. "Don't move." I demanded, holding down Fred's right hand before tracing a black line where the lifeline was supposed to be. "There. A long, healthy life."

When I looked back at the twins' faces, I saw them ready to laugh. Distress had already left them, and that helped my own evaporate.

"Merlin, Y/n!" Fred dramatically exclaimed. "You've just saved my life!"

"She sure did." George agreed, patting my back.

"Now go and tell Ron to shut up." I didn't want to imagine what would happen if people started to believe I could actually predict their future; the twins were sceptic and even they had somehow fallen for it.

I was so focused on George getting up that I didn't even notice Fred's hand flipping and wrapping around mine.

A soft kiss was placed on my cheek and I felt my face heating up even before meeting Fred's proud grin. "Figured I'd give my savior something in repay." His eyes seemed to flicker to my lips for a second; it's just my imagination, I thought, unaware of Fred's thumb caressing the back of my hand until he removed it in order to stand up.

Four Years Later

FRED'S P. O. V.

One second I was laughing at Percy's joke, and the next one everything was black; not only visually, everything was pitch black in every fucking sense.

I heard nothing, I couldn't touch anything, my voice was gone.

My mind was completely blank, until a thought slipped in my brain: 'you'll die at a young age'.

My head was spiralling now. I was dead. That's what death felt like? Nothing?

Y/n's words kept going on and on, frying my brain. How ironic it was that the voice I would have forever in my mind belonged to the girl I had been in love with since I was fourteen, and the words were what we thought to be her silly prediction.

I had no idea how long it had been, but suddenly I felt it; a tear running down my cheek. A flaming hot tear, burning its way off my face. Then I felt something else, some sort of rope wrapping tight around my right hand and wrist, so tight that it made my pulse speed up.

My pulse.

It dawned on me that my heart was beating fast against my chest. It was beating.

I needed to breathe.

"FRED!" Someone forced my eyes open; It was Percy. I couldn't see him right away because the lights were blinding to my eyes, but I recognised his voice. "FRED SAY SOMETHING!"

"Y/n..." I couldn't hear my own voice, but I felt her name going through my vocal cords.

"HE'S ALIVE!" Ron cried. "you're alive-" my sight was blurry but I could pick out my younger brother's crown in front of me as he sobbed over my chest.

"We gotta get him out of here right now!!" Of course it was Hermione who got everyone moving. As both my brothers managed to pick me up, I felt my eyes closing once more. Not even the fear of not waking up again stopped me from passing out.

READER'S P. O. V.

I had volunteered as Healer to help Madam Pomfrey during the Battle, that's why it was me who received two Weasleys practically dragging a third one into the improvised infirmary.

I recognised him from his jacket. "Fred..." At first I thought it was his corpse, that's how bad he looked.

"Y/N!!" It was only when Fred seemed to tilt his head up due to Ron's cry that I reacted, rushing to help them. "Keep him alive!" I only nodded, taking Ron's place as he took off.

With one of his arms over my shoulders and the other over his brother's, we managed to carry him to one of the stretchers; his painful weak groans went directly into my ear as we moved him, triggering the tears I was holding to fall.

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

FRED'S P. O. V.

"—alive, somehow." Y/n's voice, though it sounded far away, let me know she was close. "No, don't wake him up."

"Listen, you gotta get him to St. Mungo." It seemed George the one talking, but his voice was too shaky to tell. "in an hour this is gonna get really ugly, I want him out."

"George, we're besieged." Her tone was hopeless.

"Look at him, You said it— It's a bloody miracle he's still breathing." my brother's voice shattered; all I wanted was to get up, hug him and say I was okay, but I felt my brain spinning once more. "Bill and I will escort you out of the castle so..."

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

The next time I opened my eyes, terror inundated me; everything was dark again. I gasped for air and propped myself up, instantly regretting it. A stabbing pain attacked every part of my body, triggering a shocked cry out of me.

"What are you doing?!" Y/n whisper-shouted, before placing both her hands over my chest to push me back to the bed again. "Are you mental?" Her fingertips moved out of the way a bandage that covered my eyes. "Oi, listen," when she noticed my shaky hands desperately trying to reach my face, she took them in hers. "You're safe."

I tried to say something —anything—, but my throat was sore, and the only thing that was able to leave it was her name.

"Shhh." She hushed me, letting one of her hands travel to my face. "You have to rest." I would have sworn she was crying, but I couldn't tell. "Everything'll get better." Her thumb stroking my cheek was the most soothing thing I had ever felt, so it wasn't difficult for me to close my eyes, this time willingly, though I was equally scared. "I'll stay by your side." The reassuring squeeze her hand gave me, made me aware that she had noticed my fear.

Before drifting off, I felt Y/n's lips placing a chaste kiss on my forehead, making my heart hammer against my chest.

I was still alive.

A Month Later

READER'S P. O. V.

It was Ron who sent me an owl the moment Fred finally got out of the hospital. He informed me that, instead of going to the Burrow to rest a few days—as planned—, ha had gone straight to the shop.

That's how I found myself the next morning inside Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes, which was not-so-surprisingly full of people again.

Due to the huge amount of customers, it was relatively difficult for me to spot the twins.

Apparently, I turned out to be easy to spot.

"Y/n!" I turned in the stairs' direction to be met with a very enthusiastic George who, before I could even greet him, engulfed me in a hug.

"I see you can't catch a break." I observed, pulling away with a big smile on my face. That place really made the trick to bring joy to everyone.

"You can't imagine." He replied, his gaze wandering around before pulling my hand. "Oi, Fred! Look who dropped by!" He shouted over the hubbub, leading me to the till counter, behind which I saw the reason why I had come in the first place.

Just as Fred's eyes noticed me, he attempted to rush out of the till. I left George's side as soon as I realized that he, in fact, couldn't really rush out.

"Merlin's beard!" Despite he had just had to grip the counter in order not to fall, he tried again. "Take it easy, will you?" I scolded him, steadying him by his forearms and helping him step back to rest against the till. "Do you want to go back to the hospital?"

"If you're the one taking care of me, I wouldn't complain." The first time his eyes fell on my lips, I missed it because I was still securing him. The second time it was impossible to miss. "You know? Your sharpie saved my life."

I snorted at his nonsensical words. "You're delirious, Weasley." My hands finally left his forearms, just to be picked up on his. "Still suffering from the concussion?" I joked, trying to deviate my own attention from my fast heartbeat.

Another glance at my lips.

"I should get going." George spoke behind me.

"I was going to visit you tomorrow." Fred stated, his gaze now focused on my eyes.

"Sorry to break it to you, love," I pointed out, motioning at him with our hands still held. "But you can barely walk."

"Yeah, but I needed to see you." He looked somehow sheepish; I doubted I had ever seen him like that before. "I'm gonna be as clear and concise as possible—" He cleared his throat and forced himself to look at me. "I'm pretty much in love with you." I didn't know my eye could go as wide as they went. "Thing's I've known for a good couple of years now." He shrugged. "Telling you scared me, but then this happened." He gestured at himself. "And now not being able to tell you scares me even more." His eyes scanned me before looking around. "This wasn't the ideal place to tell you, but I didn't want to wait any longer."

I gulped, trying to process it as fast as possible.

"For Godric's sake, Y/n," he gently tugged my hand. "Say something, please." Fear started to take over him, even if he tried to keep it at bay. "It's alright if you don't feel the same, we can still be friends, I promise—"

"How do I kiss you without hurting you?" I questioned, already feeling the heat on my cheeks.

I could tell by his face that, out of everything I could have said, he was not expecting the answer I had given him. "Ever the caring one." He let go of my hands to cup my cheeks. "Just kiss me," he sounded so happy, it was contagious. "I'll deal with the pain later."

I listened to him and, holding onto his blazer, stood on my tiptoes and crashed my lips against his— only because I had been wanting to kiss him for too fucking long.

I got lost in the kiss and my brain completely dismissed that an entire wall had collapsed over the boy before me just a month ago; my hands went up to his neck, pulling him closer and, consequently, earning a painful groan from him.

"Shit! sorry." I was quick to let go, suddenly very aware of our surroundings, too.

He just shook his head and pulled my back to him, this time by my hips. "I said I'll deal with it later." He spoke against my lips before going in for a second kiss.

I was more gentle now, careful not to cause him too much pain.

To our dismay, we were interrupted.

"You said love confession!" George snapped us out of it; this time the groan Fred let out was from annoyance. "not snogging session in front of our customers! Get to work!"

He huffed, unwillingly separating from me. "If you stick around until lunch time, we can resume this."

I pretended to think about it. "I guess I can find something to do until then." My smile was as wide as his, and it grew wider when he pulled my into a hug, placing a kiss on the crown of my head. "I love you too, by the way."

His laugh reverberated on his chest. "Good to know."

"Freddie! Now!" This time it was me who groaned at George's demands.

"Help me out, love." Fred requested, pulling away from me so I could help him move behind the till counter. "See you in a couple of hours?" I nodded, pecking his cheeks and walking away from the shop.

It was when I started to walk down the Diagon Alley that it clicked.

His lifeline.

The sharpie.

"OH MY FUCK—"

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