#which is to say distantly and in a way where i cant find it in me to feel any real responsibility

[local-magpie]

I died on the operating table last night. the surgeon fed my old self the bullet i was too afraid to bite - what if it was too soon to give up? to move on? what if the moment i stepped away you finally reached out? what if you grasped nothing, and it was my fault, the same way i've been reaching for you for years and had nothing to show for it?

I held onto all those dead dreams (you killed them) and empty feelings (did you ever really return them?) for far too long (did it ever really matter, anyways?) and i guess they got just as sick of me as you did, because it seems when he opened me up with the scalpel they finally made a break for it. by the time i woke up, they were long gone, and maybe it was the blood loss, but i couldn't find it in myself to care anymore.

They didn't run far, though. that person is still here, watching what i do with the life they saved for me. the baton is passed, and their dreams and old wishes keep like old fingerprints beneath my hands. they're not mine to chase after anymore; it's up to me to make new ones, to start running whatever direction i choose, and they'll be there for the ride. i don't have to keep running laps on their course, racing their despair and grief.

So i'm standing here, at the crossroads of who i was and who i could be. i'm not sure where i'm going yet. i'm not in a rush to decide; maybe i'll let the wind embrace me a while longer, in the space between history and identity. but i do know now for sure: whatever steps i take, whatever direction i choose, you won't be there to take them with me. and i shouldn't wait for you any longer.

I don't think i've fallen out of love with you yet, but i do think i've fallen out of caring about it.

- I told you I loved you before I went under, but maybe what I really meant was goodbye

#hyperionskies writes #spilled ink #its less edgy and raw than the last one so sure ill tag it #so the blink-182 album came out today #ive been listening to bad news on repeat and... thinking about things #sweetheart if you see this im only as sorry about it as you are for what you did to me #which is to say distantly and in a way where i cant find it in me to feel any real responsibility #you were afraid love would hurt you so you shattered me first and left the bloody pieces in the sand #i get to pick up the pieces you left behind by myself #and honestly? we both know that was fucked up #but that didn't save me

[bthump]

Let’s say, hypothetically (and i hope nones asked this already), that griffith reacted to guts leaving in a self destructive way that didnt necessarily throw him in a fuckin dungeon for a year (say, self repressed even more) so when guts comes back a year later griffith is still griffith but so much more fucked up emotionally, how do you think that would have worked out? And for guts, i cant tell what exactly made him come back? Did he find a dream (i dont think it was implied anywhere?) or did he think it enough to just be with griffith and the hawks again even if it means not being dear to griffith?

Second question first: Guts actually came back because he heard that the Hawks were exiled from Midland and hiding in the woods and being lead by Casca, and went to investigate. He intended to stay to help rescue Griffith and then leave again to continue pursuing his own dream, inviting Casca with him as long as she doesn't get in the way of his goal. Then, when they discovered that Griffith was permanently disabled and needed a caretaker, and Guts internalized that fact, he did decide it was enough to just be with Griffith and the Hawks again. This is suggested in his "Why do I only see these things after they're done and gone?" internal monologue in chapter 71, where he finally acknowledges that he shouldn't have left at all. Plus he directly tells both Judeau and Casca that he wants to stay to take care of Griffith now, while they both tell him to leave.

And now for the first question:

Honestly if it was just a year later, Guts was coming back to visit or whatever, then I think it would be... painfully polite and awkward lol. Guts hasn’t fulfilled his dream and is therefore not Griffith’s equal yet, so he’s not expecting to be bffs with him. And Griffith’s fucked up emotions take the form of extra aloofness imo, so he would treat Guts pretty much exactly how Guts might expect to be treated, but wouldn’t actually want, ie politely and distantly. In this scenario I see Guts leaving again to keep working on the dream.

I think what could be an interesting premise for like, a slowburn fic on the other hand, is if Guts comes back when he thinks he has successfully fulfilled his dream and become Griffith’s equal - say it’s five years later. He’s become the best swordsman anyone knows of, he’s killed a few apostles probably, he’s feeling pretty good about his skills, his dedication, and his achievements. So he goes back to Midland to visit Griffith, who’s now king maybe, and Griffith smiles coldly and politely when he sees him, is perfectly courteous, offers him a room to stay in, and excuses himself to deal with king stuff.

So still painfully polite and awkward, but now Guts is thinking to himself, what gives, he did what he was supposed to do. So he tries to get closer to Griffith, and maybe eventually directly confronts him and they have it out.

(Hm, an actual plot could be that Midland is facing Ganishka’s empire-building army and Guts returns both to be Griffith’s cool warrior bff and to help him out, and this would force them to work together and interact.)

Anyway so you get some days/weeks/months of strained awkwardness, Guts’ attempts to bridge the gap and demonstrate his worthiness, Griffith’s incredibly mixed feelings because he still loves Guts but he’s afraid of that vulnerability, throw in some moments where Griffith’s true feelings shine through and give Guts super mixed signals, like eg Griffith saving his life again or defending him to an asshole nobleman or something, it eventually leads to Guts thinking he’s still not good enough and planning to leave again after the war or something, or possibly just giving up on the idea that he could ever be Griffith’s equal, before a climactic event happens which proves Griffith’s feelings and forces a confession or something and they finally talk and make out.

#incidentally if anyone wants to steal this idea i'm begging you to because i'd kill to read a fic like this lol but i could never write it #ask #anonymous #b #a #scene: pre rescue #headcanons #canon divergence #ship: griffguts

[rush-the-stars]

i very distantly remember you asking for Idiosyncratic Ship-names for Trigun (not in those words, but thats what TV Tropes calls them. the ships where theyre labeled after words, instead of blending their names together (which the name-blending kind of ship-names TV Tropes says is called Portmanteau Ship-names)). im PRETTY SURE that Ask came from you but i cant find the Ask anymore, but, again, im?? pretty sure???? it was you?

anyway, if i recall correctly, you wanted an idea for Meryl × Vash × Wolfwood ship-name (that was idiosyncratic; as opposed to the Mashwood ship-name that is Portmanteau), and ive been wrestling with sharing mine for a while bc its a ship-name ive been using for my un-posted OC × those three, but it can be repurposed for your needs too. i should add that, for poly ships, i personally like to incorporate the number of people involved in the name. but the number 3 (as opposed to the original: 4) works in the ship-name i have. you can also ditch the number, if you want, im not your boss. or you can ditch this whole ship-name if you dont like it

but for Meryl × Vash × Wolfwood (× my OC) ive been using (DE4LOWERED) D3FLOWERED, or i guess just DEFLOWERED if you prefer no numbers

i guess you could keep the original number if you wanted to use Reader inside it tho

but yeah. that Ask has been on my brain for months now, re-popping up as i go "nah" and re-popping up again until i decided i could at least share what ive been using in private. again, you certainly dont have to use it. im not even wholly sure it was you since i cant find the Ask (but tumblr's search feature has always been garbage so im unsurprised i cannot find it)

if you were curious about some of my other idiosyncratic ship names for Trigun (to use or not use, im good either way) (tho, please note i dont use numbers for two-person ship names. so taking a triad (with my OC) into a duo (no OC) will not have a number like the above example of a quartet to trio does. you can feel free to incorporate Reader or your own OC to give the ship its triad-poly status again, i dont mind. regardless, im babbling)

My OC × Vashwood : BULL3T BOUQUET, or BULLET BOUQUET

My OC × Knives × Wolfwood: RINGING B3LL-FLOWER, or RINGING BELL-FLOWER (it's a pun on the media property, Ringing Bell, most famous for its 1978 movie by the same name)

i have a ship-name for every combo, but the duo ones (of OC × Canon) i dont feel like sharing at this moment because half the ship *is* my OC lol but my plot-notes feature my OC having a rose motif very often (for reasons that have plot relevance about her interests, i swear lol), which i leaned into heavily for the idiosyncratic ship-names overall theme since Trigun has that whole Plant element and whatnot anyway lmao rip (subtly is dead) but i hope (ASSUMING I AM REMEMBERING ACCURATELY THAT IT WAS YOU WHO ASKED FOR THIS LOL) this satiated your months-ago craving for Trigun Idiosyncratic Ship-names?? yeah. ill go excuse my multi-shipper ass now, have a lovely day lmao rip

-- Demx's 💗 Anon, or Heartfelt Anon, from way back (you dont gotta reserve the emoji for me here; id be shocked if you did, i just wanted to confirm i was me this time before someone potentially recognized me.. again lol)

first i want to say i am sorry for getting back to this so late! i have been very busy recently!!

it absolutely was me who was looking for idiosyncratic ship names!! i was from the age of fandom (or maybe the particular fandom??) that had quite a lot of them! specifically young justice in the mid 2010s? we had spitfire, museum heist, chalant, i think red cat? we had a ton! and i feel like i saw it in other fandoms for a bit too but it slowly died off!

i just loved how clever they were! i think i also remember at one point people also were rather poetic about ot3 names? i think i remember someone who used to tag their rey, finn, and poe ot3 content with “ot3: mosaics are just broken pieces” and that stuck with me too.

but i LOVE that you’ve shared your own poly ship names with your OC and so generously offered them up for what we know as mashwood right now!! i love the inclusion of the number too!! i feel like back in the day, id tag it like this “ot3: d3flowered” WHICH IS FUN!

i tried thinking of one for them along the same lines of the “museum heist” ot3 which was robin x wally x artemis from young justice…..which if you shortened their names would get robwallart…which then became museum heist! because of the play on the words their name formed, which looked and sounded like “robbing wall art”

so i was kinda trying to play with mashwood like that because their names together currently invoke like….a forest? marshy forest? couldn’t figure out something i liked but i did like the forest imagery, since their planet no longer has them and in ways, they represent a beacon of hope for the planet.

d3flowered is lovely though!!

also obsessed with your oc and other ship names too….thats SO fun. ringing bell-flower is really evocative. i love the thought you’ve put into this.

makes me want to come up with ship names for my reader ocs and these characters…..i feel like with wolfwood i at least have this reoccurring “hellcat” reader….

i do have one more closely tied to nai too…i so badly want to find the time to finish that fic.

but anyways thank you so much for all of this 💗 anon!!! it’s given me much to think about and honestly is so creative and fun!

i hope you’re doing well!! again, sorry for the late response to this!!

#💗 anon #honestly should start doing emojis for folks if they want it #i am sorry i am just a busy little bee and i fall off the face of the earth for a couple weeks and then return so perhaps #IM not consistent enough for it LMAKFJSKA #but again thank you so much!! i love your insights 🥺💕💕💕💕 #cielo chats!

[addoration]

thoughts on will parry's predicament in tsk (and bleeding into tas, so beware spoilers)

(forgive me for inaccuracies in this meta, i dont have my copies of hdm with me so im going on memory alone!)

so will parry, maybe 13 years old, has murdered a man. manslaughter, really, and was it even really his fault? the man shouldn't have been there in the first place.

he runs and runs and runs in fear, all the way from - what was it, winchester? - to oxford. he's physically running away, and while he would like to mentally run away too, he can't. he's gripped with fear and guilt and despair, and the only good emotion he's probably feeling is gladness that he had managed to get his mum out of there before that night.

he's too young and doesnt understand enough to realise that the dead man would never have been found. pullman does such a good job of making us get inside will's mind, see things from his childish perspective - we know, distantly, that these men must have been hired by someone else who's up to no good to go and break in to his house etc, and thus we might deduce that there would be some sort of "clean up" where the death of the man doesn't see the light of day.

in the show, we're shown this explicitly. it's almost too obvious? we know suddenly that it's boreal behind the invasions n stalking.

in the book, however, we're left as shocked and reeling as will is. like i said, distantly we know all those facts - but pullman manages to write in such a way that we see things simply from will's perspective, and we forget all logic. we're all scared little boys running from a bad deed.

and he meets lyra, and amongst the things he's thinking is probably "she doesn't know what ive done. i can still be a good person to her."

except of course, lyra pries and consults the alethiometer and she finds out exactly what will is. a murderer.

and well, anyone who has heard me speak abt it before knows that that scene where she finds out he's a murderer and is just like "awesome, he can keep us safe then" is one of my favourites. i think they did it dirty in the show. BUT regardless, i believe that this is both anticlimatic and also a climax at the same time.

anticlimatic because she finds out will's a murderer and she's actually put at ease. climactic because of the exact same reasons: its a pivotal moment in their relationship, even as early on as it is.

(actually can i say that as much as i adore the scene, i find it a bit..... wrong? it always rubbed me the wrong way that the altheiometer, a truth telling device, called will a murderer. it shouldnt, because that is ultimately what he is!!! he killed someone, intentional or not. but.

but.

will parry unintentionally and quite by accident killed that man. the word murderer just never sat right with me, despite it being true. i dont know if im alone in this - does anyone else feel this way??

anyway, moving on. the fact is, he seems to quickly forget about it. he's still on the look out for coppers when they cross back into his world, so of course it's not out of his mind completely! he's paranoid but not so paranoid as to be irrational.

but he goes the rest of the books without really thinking about it much more. remember when he draws the knife and intends to stand up to - who was it, the metatron? he does so without a thought.

which is partly on par for his character: he's a protector, he's a survivor. but i also feel like pullman forgets to give him any of the trauma that should come with accidentally killing someone.

even though kids are more resilient. even though its very much likely that he's pushed that into the mists of his mind simply because he has more pressing matters to attend to (finding lyra).

actually it's just occured to me; he doesn't have time to really grieve his father, either.

but anyway, back to the topic.

when the knife shatters, he's thinking of his mother. when he cant make another cut, he's thinking of his mother.

it's interesting that pullman chose love to be the driving force behind everything that will parry does. i actually really appreciate and adore that. i don't belive its ever explicitly said? but he is the bravest character in the trilogy. lyra endures a lot and is brave too, don't get me wrong, but there's something about will, seen consciously putting love first time and time again, that makes you remember that he, unlike lyra, did not choose this adventure, and so him standing in the face of it all and choosing to love anyway is a sign of his bravery.

i mean, thats not to mention the time he stands in front of iorek and says "fight me".

it's interesting to me. he is by far the kindest character in the series. even lyra, though never meaning ill, has her moments of small cruelty, though they taper out towards the end of the triology as she grows up and is also influenced by will.

i started this trying to gather a few thoughts on will being a murderer, and ive ended up concluding that will is the bravest and kindest character. do you think balthamos would have done what he did, sacrificing his life, if he had never been influenced by will?

and let me touch on one thing i said in passing: will did not choose this journey. men started stalking his mother and him, forcing him into the actions at the start of tsk; lyra, on the other hand, fought tooth and nail to go north and save roger, and then continued to chose to walk over the bridge between worlds that asriel created. you can say that it was fate and she was destined to do so, so she didn't have a choice either.... but its not true. she had a choice the same way eve had a choice.

well! ive said a lot and resolved none of the floating thoughts in my head. feel free to comment or add your thoughts to this, or come talk to me in the hdm server (msg me if you would like a link) about what ive said!! i just love will parry a lot.

#his dark materials #hdm #hdm tv #dove talks #long post #sorry mutuals who have no idea what im on about!!

[kleinstar]

this chapter half (obv im more excited for the second half bc the new guy's coming and all reinforced some stuff i already knew but

eiden's sense of duty of "being" grand sorceror and feeling unsure bc he feels he can't fill the shoes (even though he already is, just not in huey's way)

thinking back to the halloween event where he mentions his fears of 'being shunned' and ' being unable to to find worth in himself' and as it's known his self-confidence is very built and something practiced it's kind of neat character trait

this is more like further thought than about anything in the chapter but his habit of being competitive (and like ...semi-graceful loser like idk i cant say he's a great loser but he's not like ...entirely terrible either) could also connect to that if a bit distantly

love him reflecting Yakumo's insecurity with his own which is also what he did in the halloween event,

(on another note man i cant remember anything told about the elemental spirits bc thats those twinkly things in this chapter id assume)

keeping exterior calm eases him/makes him feel like he's more on top of things

reckless as usual my guy just ' ohhh new clan member ill go alone after' like did you not learn anything about your first meeting with kuya (who granted was only testing him but hey)

#ooc // #i lovelove eiden #that said its more like a set up chapter but also i love some small stuff here and there hehe #*chapter half #the new guy next chapter with his birdfriend....looking at the leaks im a little more interested on him now lmao #not appearance speaking here lol #(i mean it spells out most of this for you but lmao love it all anyway)

[olympianroyals]

Alias: I know last night was extremely difficult for you.

Pandora: Alias, I don't.. I don't what to think or talk right now. I know your worried and I appreciate how you've been here for me and my family and I know ill appreciate it even more later but right now I feel kind of numb and last night is the last thing I want to talk about. Things don't feel quite real to me right now, i-i don't know what I'm feeling exactly but its not good.

Alias: That's okay, You literally received the worst possible news ever last night. Of course things feel off to you right now.

Pandora: All I know is that I need to go see Papa. I need to look after the girls and I need to go see him which means going back....there.

Alias: Yeah, you never talked about Olympia with me much have you?

Pandora: I never wanted to, but that didn't stop you from finding out did you? You knew this whole time.

Alias: I mean, you knew I grew up in Olympia as well. It never occurred to you that I might have grown up watching your father on the TV, Princess? (don't call me that) You didn't think I can put two and two together after meeting your family for the first time and realize that this Pandora is the same Princess Pandora from back home? Ya know, Pandora isn't a common name right Princess? (Why are you so hard headed?)

Pandora: Shut up, it never occurred to me till just now doofus (I can see that) You should have said something or even brought it up.

Alias: I never said anything about it because I had no clue how you would react. I mean, you straight up ignored me for like 2 weeks when I told you where i was from.

Pandora: [Rolls eyes] Your so dramatic, it wasn't 2 weeks. A few days maybe but it wasn't weeks.

Alias: Either way, I didn't know how you would react to me knowing you was royalty so I didn't bother saying anything......

Nico: [Distantly] You mean to tell me this whole fucking time, The Child you was screeching about was baby Yoda?

Daphne: Duh who else would I be talking about auntie, and that's another simoleon in my piggy bank.

Neo: Daphne, not everybody knew what you was talking about this morning. I think that was maybe why this morning was a little rough because we all wasn't on the same page. Maybe next time, you can just say what exactly you need so we can get it for you? does that sound agreeable to you honey? Can we do that next time?

Daphne: ...yeah okay

Nico: That's right little brat, what she said

Alias: You know your not alone in this right? You have Nico and Neo, Alexia who's been blowing up my phone worried to death about you.

Pandora: Yeah i-i saw her messages earlier, i just cant be bothered right now

Alias: That's fine, and you know you have me as well right? I'm only just a call away. Ill know there's a 7 hour time difference from here to Olympia but ill pick up the phone for you whenever. Just call and ill answer okay?

Pandora: Thank you.

Book 1: Chapter 1, Episode 8

|The Beginning of Chapter 1 | Previous | Next |

#sims 4 #sims 4 storytelling #sims 4 story #sims 4 royal story #ts4 storytelling #ts4 story #ts4 royal story #sims 4 royal legacy #sims 4 royal family #ts4 royal legacy #ts4 royal family #The Olympian Royals #Sim: Pandora #Sim: Alias #Sim: Achilles #Sim: Daphne #Sim: Iris #Sim: Nico #TOR chapter 1

[ophiebot]

OH MY GOD. GREEN KNIGHT AU. PLEASE TELL ME MORE

*cracks knuckles* I saw the movie like two days ago and I couldn't get the aesthetics out of my head. It was really immersive and surreal and ooooo I'm a sucker for chainmail and quests.

I haven't exactly laid out the proper framework for it yet but the gist so far is that MC (which in my case is a tired and timid non-binary 20 something with a mullet) is a soon to be knight with a strong enough relation to the king to be in consideration for the throne. The king in this au being Asgore. I tend to see him as a somewhat morally grey character; well-intentioned but often misguided in his attempts to do what he thinks is best for his people. He acts as somewhat of a mentor to MC and has raised them (distantly) since their parents died when they were young. Sans is an on again off again member of the court who has been maintaining a casual relationship with MC while harboring more intense feelings for them. However, he's the number one enabler of their ... indulgent side. Be that laying around all day, sleeping in, or messing around.

During a ceremonial gathering of the court for some celebration or other a hulking stranger crashes the party on horseback and asks if any member of the table would play a game with him...

To step forward and strike him with his own axe under the condition that they meet him again one year later to receive a blow in return.

Under silence from his court, Asgore steps up to meet the challenge, only to have MC offer their own hand in the game to protect him.

The stranger, clad in armor made of bark that is only just visible under the massive cloak hiding most of his form, dismounts. His feet land heavily on the stone ground, echoing. A piercing light from the shadow of his hood illuminates what they think is a skull underneath. It falls on them, scrutinizing their form.

The way they shake.

The huge axe set over his shoulder is lowered. The hilt is placed on the ground with a reverberation that betrays its weight.

His other arm reaches up and pulls back the hood to reveal...a skull...and a gnarl of roots twisting over half of his entire face like a parasite. Some inching across and into the eye socket that isn't covered.

He smiles down at them, looking content and pleased. His teeth are huge and sharp. Menacing and stark and frightening against the soft expression he offers them. They swallow thickly, eyes darting away briefly as they are unsure of what to do with the sudden attention. They briefly catch sight of Sans sitting across the way, watching them wide-eyed and paler than they imagined a skeleton could even get. He looks like he might jump across the table now just to stop them.

The sound of a heavy footstep brings them back to the situation at hand. He's come only a step closer, and is holding out the axe like an offering, though they're unsure they'd even be able to keep the thing upright let alone strike him with it-

He stares at them pointedly and doesn't move an inch. They think fleetingly that he could so easily be mistaken for a statue. Some monster of myth forever captured in stone....er, wood? But the light in his socket is very much alive, they have to blink once just to focus again. Their eyes fall to the axe. 

Do they just...take it? He remains unmoving as they reach a hand out....as they take it from him easily. Have they found some miraculous strength or is the thing really just light enough for them to lift with only little effort? It doesn't seem to matter either way. He looks pleased.

The thing they hadn't been expecting was for the giant of a knight to kneel before them. He doesn't break his gaze from them once, pushing his cloak out behind himself. They're only a couple inches taller than him now...even after he's lowered down to the ground.

Then comes his voice. Like thunder....or like the creaking of a thousand year old tree in the wind before a storm.

“take your aim, little knight.”

Their eyes widen considerably, stumbling back a pace and barely catching themselves as they rock back with the weight of the axe. They tremble. They hesitate “...You...you must fight me for it, surely?” They say carefully, tensing in their stance in case he does decide to rise again and attack them. He blinks at them, a shadow of the grin from before returning as his eye sockets lid halfway. He gives no response. This only flusters them further, unsure of what to do. Their face screws up in mild frustration.  

“What are you doing? Rise and face me.” Again he doesn’t speak.... instead he tilts his head down and to the side to expose his neck to them. “strike.”

They stare down at him blankly. They could feel eyes on them from every corner of the room, baring down at them at every angle. No one breathed a word as the exchange took place. They stood, adjusting and fidgeting with their grip on the handle of his massive weapon. This....it didn’t feel like honor. What kind of challenge was this? To kill a man on his knees...did it have to do with courage? Proving they had any stomach for killing at all? They take one final desperate look around the room. 

They look to Asgore, who is watching with a hard expression on his face.

His gaze meets theirs steadily, and it feels like an eternity as he nods.  Their attention is pulled back to the prone monster on his knees.  “fine, then. have it your way” They lift the axe above their head. They aren’t sure where to aim, its like white is searing their vision. Maybe an arm...just a cut on the cheek...

They cry out as they swing the weapon down and it seeks its true target. 

The monsters skull is lopped clean off, with nothing but the sound of the blade cutting air and a splattering of blood. It thuds to the ground and rolls a short distance away. They stand there panting heavily, gripping tight to the handle of the axe. The room is silent save for their breathing. They see white, hot and humid. They can smell the sharp of iron in the air...fresh. Another eternity passes til a sound is made again....the monsters body which had slumped to the ground lifeless...began to push itself up again. it slowly stands once more, and has no trouble finding its head and bending to pick it up. They cant move as they watch him. Rooted to the spot in some mix of bewilderment and horror. He turns to them, head held to his chest now. 

That eye socket blinks, the light inside flickering back to life bright as ever.

He looks them over for a moment before grinning. The head laughs, deep and rolling....like the very earth shaking. He seems far too happy with the turn of events. “...one...year...hence.”

With a blink he’s gone, along with his horse. Only his fading laugh echoing through the hall. His blood smeared across the floor...and his axe....still clutched tight within their grip.

#ophie writes #ask #knight au #undertale #undertale au #then comes the quest.... #more obstacles to meet along the way....

[kashimos-hajime]

no regrets (8/8) | r.b.

summary: For the first time, he thinks of a future he could have, and someone who loves him, and there’s something bright in his heart. Or, Reiner finally understands what peace is.

WARNINGS: MANGA SPOILERS!!! angst, mentions of violence, we get our happy ending :) pairing: reiner braun x fem!reader word count: 6.7k

a/n: welcome to the last chapter!! thank you so much for being on this journey with me. there are a few callbacks to previous chapters so see if you can catch ‘em all heheh 

masterlist

crossposted on ao3 x

Few months ago ymir asked if I could let her write one last letter to krista, and I did let her. I stood over her shoulder the whole time, watching her pen down all this sappy shit and I kept thinking about you the whole time, behind those walls. What you were doing, what you were thinking. Maybe if you thought about me. I dont know.

I’m starting to see the appeal of wrting what youre not strong enough to say to a persons face. I never thought Id find myself on the other end of this stick. for some reason, I thought that I could stop myself, resist the temptation, or maybe that I didnt feel for you as strong as I thought I did once I was away from you. I was wrong.

What do I even say? I mean shit, I can barely see, my limbs are barely in tact, and all of it—shiganshina, it haunts me, even though I cant really remember it that well. Half of it goes black and then I remember hearing your voice, I remember Bertholdt, I remember you screaming.

You couldve walked away. why didnt you walk away? It doesn’t make sens. Why did you think to cut me out? Why did you try to save me? Im trying to make it make sense inmy head. It’s not working.

Fuck I dont know what I was thinking when I asked for a paper and pen. Why am I asking you questions? Its not like ill ever understand. At this point, I think it’s pity thats letting Zeke let me waste ink on trying to write straight. He doesn’t know what im doing, but thats better this way. Better than sleeping—better than eating. I just wanna talk to you and this is as close as I can get. Its my own damn fault, but I dont care. 

I completed my mission. After this, im done. ill give up the rest of my term. I dont want any of that glory anymore. I dont want to be a hero. Im just done.

Fuck, my head hurts so much. I dont really know if what im saying is making sense. Im hoping you never read this.

im sorry. I wish I could explain it to you some day, but chances are, ill be dead soon. Whether for treason or because they need to pass on the Titan, and I wont be able to see you again. Which means youll never know how sorry I am. How much I

Thats okay. I dont think youd believe me now even if I did say anything.

I remember your dream to live by the lake with a bunch of kids. You know I started to wonder if youd mind if they were our kids, not just some orphans who needed a home. I’d imagine one of them with blond hair. Imagine them swimming in the lake.

Never told you that was my dream too. Never knew i could have a dream of my own, something only I wanted and not just something to further marleys damn agenda, til I knew you. Sounds stupid but its true.

I think youd like Marley, if we weren’t sworn enemies. Just want you here with me right now. make me sleep easier knowing you’re there when I wake up. 

Dont want secrets either. Fuck I miss you so bad. I feel s o tired all the time. 

I rember when i first saw you all could think about was how you were the most prettiest girl id ever seen. I don know if you know thats why I tried to distance myself. Knew I couldn’t get distracted from my mison. happened anyway. Wish I could tell you that. 

wish I could tell you I love you. Wish I could see the look on yur face when you try lobster for the first time. Youd love it. Not sweet, but tons of desserts here too.

Shit. And the ring on your finger. ill put a ring on your finger. I promised. i swear ill go home and buy a ring for the moment I see you again. Might not be pretty but will do the best I can.

Olnly wnat only wnat only want to see you again and beg for your forgiveness. Let you know if I had a choice, I wouldnt have done it. Would take it all back, nd stay. i wanted to stay, stay with you and the others. I used to want to spend the rest of my life in those walls, now I think im sick and tired of them dividing people who arent even that differnet.

My eyes are beginning to burn. Worse because the skin is sitll growing back. Fucking hell god I miss you. miss your smile more.

I know i dont deserve your forigvneess forgiveness. I want you to be angry with me. I deserve as much, and I cant ask you to, but 

With love,

Rienr

You fold the letter, eyes closing as your fingers trace where the ink bled, the old tear stains wrinkling the paper beyond measure. Some are older than others, and you trace over his name again, your eyes burning, your throat tight enough to suffocate.

You’re leaning against the wall as everyone disembarks. They had taken Eren off first, Hange and the others getting ready to depart for the city while Connie and Jean lift a covered stretcher too white for the vivacious girl that lays dead beneath it.

They pass you silently, and you catch sight of a certain captain approaching, his pale eyes nearly swallowed by the shadows haunting his face.

“Captain,” you say, straightening. Placing the letter back into the tin, you slide it back into your pocket as he folds a green jacket over his shoulder. You give him a nod.

“You made it out alive,” Levi observes. He stops beside you, eyes more focused on what’s ahead. No doubt he’s not looking forward to having to take Zeke to wherever he needs to go—somewhere far, far away from Eren. You cross your arms. 

“It’s good to see you, too, Levi,” you intone. Sighing, you step in beside him and look out at the Walls you can’t see in the distance, your entire body wrought with a strange fatigue that’s only sewn into muscles by adrenaline leaving the body. “I think I’m going to stay.” He tilts his head to you, eyes flickering to your face, and you mirror the shift, your arms tightening. “I can’t leave this unfinished. Not after Liberio.”

“The farm will have to be abandoned,” he points out. “The kids, too.”

“I’ll make sure I move them where someone can take care of them. Somewhere north, far away from the brothers,” you assure, although still, your heart begins to sink and you close your eyes, exhaling deeply. “I have to hope they understand.”

Levi only nods, and you open your eyes as he wordlessly takes the jacket off his arm and offers it to you. Grasping it wearily, you open your mouth to ask questions but he only sets off, back towards the cabin where Zeke is still being held, and you snap your jaws shut, looking down at the jacket.

When you unfold it, you swallow the hard rock in your throat at the blue and white slipping beween the folds of olive green before there’s a sharp whistle. Looking up, you see the carriages already beginning to load up, and you glance back at the door where the captain has disappeared through before jogging down the ramp.

You slither your arms through the sleeves and shuffle the fabric along your frame as something thumps against your thigh, and you frown, reaching down into your pocket and coming into contact with something smooth and hard.

Withdrawing, your lips part at the green bolo tie gleaming in the lights of the port and you, without another thought, pull it over your head, letting it fall against your breastbone. 

“For your services to the Survey Corps.”

There’s no time to second-guess now. No time to debate.

“Good to have you back,” Hange murmurs as you walk towards the carriage taking Mikasa, Armin, and the others back to the city. You tug the lapels of the jacket tighter around yourself and flash them a weak smile. 

The Wings of Freedom on your arm feel like a brand, and it prickles your skin as you climb in after them.

.

Distantly, he remembers flashes. 

Eren reaching forward for Zeke, the exhaustion ripping him every which way, the sound of ODM gear whizzing in his ears as he tries to make sense of the punctured sensation in his armour.

How he had softened his nape, intending to die then. At least, let his death have some meaning, he had thought. Let him make one last effort to repent for everything he did to Paradis, and to his friends who’d been more family than his own mother.

He slips in an out of consciousness for the next few days. He doesn’t know what is up, what is down, but he does recognize his surroundings blearily, the way his head spinning somehow slowing when he presses his temple to the wooden floor.

How can he almost hear your voice in the echoes of the panels, countered by someone who almost sounds like Annie before he drifts off again.

When Reiner finally regains consciousness again, he wakes to someone crouched down in front of him. Jerking up, he lets out a sound before a palm slaps over his mouth and your face is shoved against his own.

“Shut it,” you whisper fiercely. “It’s just me.”

Your name muffled by your own hand, his eyes begin to burn and you lift your palm away as he sits up and you draw back. You’re dressed in clothes that look like they’ve seen better days but you’re relatively uninjured as you pull back. New lines adorn your face—one of the many prices of their damned war—and you only look exhausted. 

Sitting up, Reiner’s whole body groans as he leans against the wall, but he can’t tear his eyes away from you. Your hands are hovering around his body like you’re scared he’ll collapse and there’s a fracture in your mask.

Something gleams on your finger and his eyes flit to it, his heart lurching when he realizes what it is.

The ring. You’re wearing it. You…

For a moment, a glimmer of their teenage selves shine through and he wants to reach for it—touch it so he can remember what it’s like to be happy. He thinks it’s an awful like now; the swelling of his heart so big he can’t breathe; the way his lungs are static in his chest; how he can’t say anything because there are so many words that want to come out first.

“You’re here. You’re alive,” he finally settles on raspily. Your eyes glint with a youthful pain as you nod.

“So are you.” 

And he doesn’t know who moves first—you or him. Nothing is forgiven as their bodies crash in an embrace that lacks grace, but they cling onto another like the world is ending and they’re the only ones left standing. 

Maybe they are.

He buries his face in your neck, and your arms are so tight around him your fingers dig into his shoulders as your body melts against his and his skeleton sags in his own body.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers against your skin, eyes fluttering shut. “I‘m sorry.” A hand against your neck and an arm around your waist, he wraps his legs around your own and traps you against him. You seem to only sink into him even more.

Is that enough? I don’t want you to hate me.

You suck in a breath, and then it comes out shuddering. “You can spend the rest of what life you have left repenting for making me fall in love with a man who was always supposed to die.”

Softly, in his mind, your voice cools the searing heat of hatred inside him. It’s enough. It has to be.

“I’m sorry,” he says again. It’s like they’re the only words he knows. He can’t remember ever meaning it this much. For him dying, for making you love him, for ever coming to Paradis. For loving you. For loving you. “I’m so sorry.”

“I know. I know.” Your face turns to press against his own. Your lips brush against his jaw and his eyes slide shut, tears rolling down his face. “I read every single one of your letters.” Drawing back, you cup his face in his hands and your fingers smear his tears all over his cheeks as his palm rests against your neck. Thumb stretching up to touch your chin, he feels sobs shuddering in his throat at seeing you again—looking at him almost like you used to. “I can’t begin to understand, but I know you are. And I know you love me.”

Choking, he gasps, “You should hate me.”

“Yeah. Yeah, I should.” You’re crying, too, voice thick, tears stubborn on your cheeks as you give him a watery smile. “I should hate Marley, too. But it’s beautiful there. The water by the sea… I want to be there with you next time. We need to go together, before you leave me alone, okay?”

Reiner doesn’t quite hear you. He hears Marley, and beautiful, and he’s never noticed how beautiful you are when you cry, but right now, it’s the simplest truth he knows. 

“Okay.”

When you tilt his chin up and kiss him softly, something inside him explodes from the gentleness that makes him want to crack in the palm of your hands. It sears him from the inside out, makes him grab onto you like you’ll disappear—this is another dream, isn’t it? 

It has to be. 

You can’t be kissing him again after four years. He doesn’t deserve it. You’re an illusion, something his mind made up to deal with the pain. He’s finally cracked for good, just like Bertholdt said he would, and he’s the devil, not you.

But then you pull away just for a moment to smile, eyes barely open as you look at him with a sad tenderness that wraps him in an invisible embrace, and he is faced with the heart-wrenching reality. 

The sky is falling, you are holding him tightly again, and they’ve lost their years. But you’re here. With him. 

He knows that this isn’t a dream as he feels the coolness of the silver band on your finger and the heaviness in how he knows he hasn’t repented a damn thing. 

Why him?

As you run your hand through his hair, you press their foreheads together.

“And I do want a family with you, by the water if you’d like,” you murmur fleetingly against his mouth and his eyes widen, cheeks burning, entire face crumbling as he turns his face in to your shoulder, crushing you in another brace. Sobbing into your neck, his fingers dig into your shoulders, wrap tight around your waist, squeeze you so close he isn’t sure where you end and he begins and your lips brush the shell of his ear. “Reiner, say it.”

“Please,” he whispers thickly into your skin, and you cradle the back of his head with a hand. He’s nothing more than shambles. “Please, don’t go.”

“I’m not letting you out of my sight again,” you promise. His breath is hot against his own face as you pull his head back and cradle his face again, thumbs brushing away the tears from his red face. “Just a bit more. A bit more and then it’ll be all over, you know?”

And he understands, then, what you want from him. Struggling for breath, for his lungs to stop seizing in his aching chest, he cups your face that turns into his palm on instinct, your face wet with your own tears as, for a moment, they try to pretend this isn’t where they really are.

Like they’re still in that afternoon in Trost, a thousand years ago, with the kids flipping coins into the water fountain and a cream bun between them. Like they’re under the tree, apple juice on your wrist and his lips on yours.

Like it’s those trips to the city, the walks on the Walls. Honey is dripping down your chin and he’s pretending he doesn’t want to kiss you, or there’s grease smeared on his forehead, and you’re reaching up to wipe it off his skin.

Like a thousand moments all at once, and he nods to himself as you brush your hand over his temple. The world outside is startlingly quiet, as if the universe itself stopped everything itself to watch this moment, and Reiner takes a breath that bruises his sternum before he’s holding your left hand where that ring still sits.

And slowly, he pulls it off, whispering as firmly as he can. He’s sure he fails—he’s shaking all over from your presence alone.

“When this is over, I’ll put that ring back on your finger. I promise.”

The smile that splits your face is dazzling. It’s the smile he’s missed since the day he left it.

“We have a lot of things to work out, Reiner Braun.”

And your fingers barely brush his jaw before you’re leaning to press a sweet kiss against his mouth. It’s sugary on his tongue, like honey and apple slices.

.

Your back is warmer when you’re pressed up against Reiner’s. The ship is quiet, and their pinkies are just barely hooked on oen another’s as you stare blankly at the empty space between Connie’s boots. You don’t speak, and Reiner’s gaze is only on you. He can’t look at anything else now that you’re back by his side again.

There’s a cut on your cheek from the fight just half an hour ago, and there’s dried blood along your hands where your knuckles had split open, but everyone seems too exhausted to clean themselves up. 

Reiner himself has a blanket pulled over his shoulders, and he sighs, slouching in his own sack of flesh.

Your head tilts towards him, enough that your temple presses against his cheek. His eyes close and he leans into your touch. Not a word passes by, but their hold on each other’s hands tightens. And Reiner thinks. 

For the first time, he thinks of a future he could have, and someone who loves him, and there’s something bright in his heart. Something that hasn’t burned since he left Marley as a child.

Reiner thinks he doesn’t want to die anymore. He doesn’t want to miss you for another moment.

.

Raising from the steam, you groan, your hands searing from the inside out as you touch your face where you swore every inch of your skin had been stretched, but nothing seems out of sorts as you glance around. Everywhere, all your friends who had turned just as you had are in various states of disoriented. The air is still hissing, crackled with surprised screams and shouts of names as people look for one another across the field. 

It smells like cooked meat and burnt hair, a none-to-pleasant mixture that turns your stomach.

Getting to your feet, you wipe at your face, trying to ignore the weird feeling underneath your nails and the ache seizing your muscles. Trying to ignore the remnants of Eren lingering like a ghost that won’t really leave you alone. You shiver, and a strange cold sweat takes over your body.

He had taken you to the sea, except it wasn’t the shore you were familiar with. There was a cabin nearby, with blonde children running, chasing after one another and a man with golden hair standing on the porch, firewood in his arms as he calls out silently. Or maybe you had been standing too far to hear.

“Eren… where are we?”

“Wherever you think you are,” he had said. “I just brought you where you wanted to be.”

A voice, quiet as a memory, catches your attention. “Here let me help.” A soft wind blows throw the mist, cooling your scorching face as you feel a presence stand behind you.

“Oh, thank you.” You look over your shoulder to see a tall boy, and your heart stops. Mouth dropping open, you stare at his foggy image, but he only smiles fully, a smile so tender it reaches every corner of you as you stumble forward, fingers stretching for him. “Bertholdt!”

His smile grows only that much more, eyes squinting a bit and a flash of teeth before he’s looking at your hand that passes through his chest. All at once, all the hope built up in your chest crumbles, and your hand snaps back, trembling just before him. He lays a hand over your own and your eyes begin to burn, tears slipping down your cheeks.

And then, softly, you barely whisper, “I miss you.”

Bertholdt’s smile merely grows, as if to say everything he couldn’t say before. As if to show he’s at peace now—that your last memory together isn’t every part of him, and your lips press together, trying to stop yourself from shaking.

 Shadows form in the fog, and together, the two look as a freckled boy and another girl steps out of the mist a distance away, beaming like the sun. Connie and Jean stagger to their feet just behind you, and your heart lurches into your throat when you recognize them.

“Marco! Sasha!”

Someone calls your name and you turn around just as arms scoop you up and you let out a surprised noise before settling into Reiner’s arms. Looking over your shoulder to look at Bertholdt, your heart only sinks.

He smiles and Reiner lets out a sharp breath beside you, settling you down. “Bertholdt…” More shapes emerge. A shorter boy accompanied by another taller one, both alike in their features. You recognize one as the Jaw Titan holder before Falco, but the other—

“Marcel!” Reiner chokes out the name, hand stretching out to the fog, but the boy merely tilts his head and waves.

Closing your eyes, hot tears streak over your cooling flesh as you fling your arms around Reiner again and press your face into his neck. He cradles the back of your head, and he feels… somehow weaker, but still, there is that impassable strength in his core that wraps around you as he watches over your shoulder, still clinging on despite your clothes hot enough to burn.

I’m alive, I’m alive, I’m alive, I’m alive. It’s the only thought in your head. Your last clear memory had truly been the others taking flight, and the pain that had ripped apart your body before sewing it back together again in unjust proportions. Your limbs had been too big, your blood racing too warmly through your head as your legs pumped but your brain screamed to stop. 

Your fingers had sank into Reiner’s legs to pull him down and you had watched—watched Jean take a bite out of him—

You shiver and Reiner’s arms tighten around you instinctively, constricting enough to let you know that his attention isn’t on you quite yet.

Boots shifting on the ground tentatively, your knees feel gummy as you draw back long enough to look at him. He still looks over your shoulder, and you follow his gaze to watch the mist retreat. Bertholdt and the other two boys fall into a pool of fog, and your lips part in a farewell, but it’s already too late.

He’s gone.

A wind sweeps through the battlefield, tickling your sweating neck and cooling your boiling blood.

“Hey,” a soft voice croaks.

Their eyes meet in tandem. He regards you softly, like you are the reason the sun rises and the stars hang at the sky. Overwhelmed, you can only cup the back of his neck and pull him into a deep kiss. Your other hand along his jaw, it takes all you can not to pull him into a bone-crushing embrace that’ll send them both to the ground.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry,” you whisper hushedly against his mouth, throat swelling as he lets out a soft noise of surprise as you pull him into another tight hug. You don’t care that you’re crushing him, just that his heart is pounding against your own chest. “I couldn’t stop myself. I’m so sorry.” 

His eyes widening, he wraps his hands around your wrists and pulling you back just enough to kiss your fingers that crumple against his mouth. Clasping one of his hands in both of your own, you close your eyes and he uses his free fingers to brush the tears off your cheek before reaching into some dented tin you don’t recognize.

Eyebrows furrowing, you feel the heat leave your entire body, sapping your energy too, and your eyes snap to Reiner who steps back, cracking it open and presenting it to you. 

“You’re not the one who has to be sorry. I don’t think I’m the Armoured Titan anymore,” he whispers. “I don’t know if I get the rest of my life back, but either way, I want to spend the rest of it repenting to you in any way I can, if you’ll allow me to.” A weak smile. “Truth.”

Your throat closes up, and you stare down at the ring so protected, gleaming despite the destruction around them. It looks almost out of place amongst the grime smearing your skin, the sweat drenching their skin, the smell of blood and metal clinging to their clothes, but Reiner only watches you with a tenderness you can barely meet. It’s so overtly overflowing with devotion that your heart is resting on your tongue, seizing control of everything. 

You barely nod, chewing on your lip, trying not to cry even harder as his eyebrows rise in relief and he lets out a long sigh.

He lifts the ring out of the tin, snapping it closed before sliding the band back home onto your finger and all at once, everything floods you. The exhaustion, the pain, the hunger, thirst, grief wrapping around your bones and chaining you to the ground.

It’s over.

The minute he put the ring on your finger, it would mean it was over. No more blood, no more fighting.

Just like he promised.

You barely croak out his name before you fall to your knees. You trust him to catch you, and he does.

[THREE YEARS LATER]

Just after the Rumbling had stopped, you had gone back to Paradis alone and came back with three children to a man who was still uncertain in a world that was changing. 

Since then, you’ve learned so much about the world, about yourself, about Reiner. 

How he’s seized by night terrors even now, just like you, and how one thing that soothes it is going out for a walk while the sun still simmers below the horizon, the sky a dark navy blue spliced with orange rays. The intricate details like him making a point to tie his own tie because his father never taught him how or the way he has to chug his coffee so he has enough energy to get through the day.

And some days are horrible, haunting, but now, it is far outweighed by the good. He teaches Xav how to dress smart, takes the girls out shopping. Sometimes, he’s spotted around Liberio with a flame-haired boy riding his shoulders, you trailing behind hiding a smile behind some ice-cream.

Different nations, foods, cultures surround you now—citizens of countries coming to settle down roots, spread cuisine to Marley. The idea before, of humans so different than you but still similar at the root of it all, existing, still blows your mind. The technologies that you had never seen before, languages you’d never heard, sights you’d never seen, had all swarmed you as you stepped into a new world with him.

But there is always one thing you’ll come back to.

Leaning against the railing in the port city Reiner told you was the harbour he had left twelve years ago, and returned to seven years ago, you watch the clouds travel in slow drags across the pale blue canvas hung high above your head. The water spans for as far as you can see, glimmering under the sun and gorgeous enough to take your breath away. You pull at your coat across your chest absently, ignoring the tender growl of your stomach. 

Breathing in the salty wind, you feel your chest expand at the litle fishing boats a little ways out.

Reiner was right. You don’t get sick of the sea. You never will—not of this much water. You still remember the first time you had swam in it, the salt-water making your hair crisp, the cold sweat forming on your your sun-warmed skin.

You feel a hand on your shoulder. Looking up, you spot blonde hair and warm eyes and smile. Your heart flutters a bit. You shift on your feet.

“Hey.”

“Hey.” Reiner leans down beside you, and you clasp your hands, letting the sea wind curl against your neck. Reaching to slip his hand in between yours, he sighs and you lean against his shoulder, glancing at their pile of interlaced fingers. “Are you okay?”

“Of course,” you whisper, although even still, you can feel a numbing at your fingertips. You remember what it was like to be a Titan, even now. The sensations haunt you—flashes of your own mutated body, the grotesque meat of your hands sinking into the ankles of the man beside you, the bloodcurdling roar spilling out of your throat.

Glancing at their fingers, you watch the flashes of silver of the rings play in the sunlight, your band now having a matching counterpart on his own hand. You grasp his hands tightly, bringing them up to your lips and his own grip tightens when you dust a kiss gently along his scarred knuckles.

“No,” you finally say at length. “I’m not okay. Going back to Paradis makes me nervous as hell, but we’ll manage.” He nods slowly, and you let go of his hands to wrap your arms around his neck. His own encircle your waist, pulling you flush against him and your eyes close at the familiar warmth—a warmth you’ve woken up next to most days for the past three years. 

“Have you eaten yet?” he murmurs, and your fingers play with the soft edges teasing at your pads as his nose presses against your cheek. Your eyes flutter at the soft heat emanating from his skin, and you shake your head, melting against him. With one arm still around you, he slants his body away from just enough to pull a bag out of his pocket and it crinkles as he hands it to you. Taking it, you frown and look inside.

A cream bun. You can’t help the crumbling in your expression and Reiner holds your face in his hands carefully, kissing the corner of your mouth.

“Let’s stay positive,” he whispers. “We don’t know the situation until we get there and Historia briefs us.”

“I know,” you whisper and his entire expression eases at your words. His eyes gaze at you as if you’re the sole centre of his universe, and he cups your jaw more insistently, pulling you in for a gentle kiss, one you ease into, your eyes fluttering shut as his tongue traces the seam of your mouth. Laughing, you feel his little nose scrunch and your heart bounds up into your throat as he pulls back only to kiss you again, softer this time.

“Get a room!” A sharp female voice ruins their moment and you pull back just enough to see a red-headed boy running towards them and Reiner crouches down just in time to scoop Xavier up.

“When are you getting married?” he demands. “I was promised cake when you guys got married.”

“I dunno. When you move out of the house I guess,” you tease and Xavier pouts, rubbing at the side of his nose with the heel of his palm.

“Besides, you got cake for your seventh birthday, buddy,” Reiner groans as the boy twists in his arms. “You’re getting heavy. What are you feeding him?” he adds, smiling roguishly at you and you roll your eyes as Alina and Anya approach, sun hats protecting them from the glaring sun. Alina, grocery bags in hand, waves. Anya, who’d been the one to shout, tucks her coin purse back into her bag before flashing you a great big smile.

Only fifteen and seventeen. You can barely recall what it’s like being that young anymore, but you’re grateful they didn’t spend it the way you did. They get to know beauty, and no limits at all. The former comes naturally, the latter is partially because Reiner spoils them rotten.

Alina picks a flower with velvety purple petals from a bouquet she cradles in her arm, extending it to you.

“For good luck,” she says. “And protection.” Your heart melts at her words and you pause for a moment, looking from the gorgeous bloom to Reiner, occupied with the boy in his arms making silly faces at him. Then, without another moment, you sneak the flower behind his ear and he reaches up immediately to hold it against his head, turning to you in surprise. 

“To protect the both of us,” you explain.

“Thank you. I’ll be extra careful now.” He looks at the girls, setting his free hand on Alina’s head heavily and she flushes, smiling grandly. “You three behave while we’re gone, alright?”

You nod. “Listen to Levi.” 

“And listen to your sister,” Reiner adds to Alina and Xavier. The former rolls her eyes, the latter sticks out his tongue. “I’ll miss you.”

This is their home—their family that tumbles together into a huge hug, and you can’t help but stand back, watching how they all seem to merge into one unit, unaware of where one part of their reach ends and another begins.

As Reiner pulls you into the hug, your heart soars through your body, effortlessly pounding in your throat and in your fingers and everywhere at once. Liquid heat pools everywhere as Xavier screws up his face when you kiss his cheek, the same way Reiner does after he’s eaten something sour.

And maybe it’s a bit different, or a bit broken, the shards of their bloody history still poking at their heels whenever they think you’ve forgotten them, and it’s most definitely not perfect, but you would rather have it like this then anything else.

“Hey, guys!” Breaking apart, the family look over to see Armin, Annie, and Pieck walking over. Gabi and Falco meander a little bit behind, pushing Levi in his wheelchair, and Jean and Connie are running not far behind them, shouting at one another. You stifle a laugh and Xavier shimmies out of Reiner’s hold to run towards them. The girls follow after him, trying to hold back their runs but the closer they get, you can tell the more frantic they are to say goodbye.

So this is what they’ve made a peace. Something, you hope, is good.

Annie bypasses them quickly, making her way over to you and you survey her face as Reiner squeezes your shoulder, walking over to their friends. Her blue eyes are fixed on your face, and you feel your lips curving into a smile as she shoves her hands in her pockets. Her hair is swaying in the wind, gleaming flaxen, and you remind yourself, not for the first time, that Armin and Annie’s kids, if they ever decide they want them, will be gorgeous.

Hope for the future, and all that.

She stops in front of you, tucking a strand behind her ear.

“So,” she says at length, “we’re going back to Paradis. I’m surprised you decided to come with us. You don’t owe any of us anything.”

“I know. But… you’re my best friend. You do the talking, I fly the getaway plane, right?”

“Yeah. There used to be a time when it probably would’ve been the opposite.”

You nod, and they stand in silence for a moment, watching each other. Two women who should not have been friends, but were against all odds. You don’t think you would be here today if it weren’t for Annie.

Your heart lurches and you take a step forward just as she does, her mouth open to say something. You throw your arms around her and she lets out a noise in surprise as you close your eyes. Arms coming underneath yours, her hands dig into your shoulders and you smile against soft hair as she sighs, easing into your hug.

“Finally working together on an actual assignment,” you mumble and her head tilts as her small frame shifts, a hand patting you on the back as a sign for you to back up. “Just like we always said we would.” 

Bluntly: “Just don’t do anything stupid.”

“You, too.” Pulling back, the two look at one another for another soft moment before you remember the bag in your hand and you shift the bun up in the bag, extending it towards her. “Want some?” Her eyebrows rise in faint delight, before she’s reaching over, pinching and tearing a piece off. 

You grin and do the same and you gesture for her to come stand by the rails with you, stuffing the bag into your coat pocket. Leaning against the warm metal again, you hear a seagull call. The plane you’ll be flying to Paradis floats on the water, the technicians giving it the final check before you take off.

If anything goes wrong while you help prepare and oversee accommodations for the rest of the ambassador group, you’ll remember to fire the black signal flare, but you trust Historia. You trust your friends.

You glance over at them, all laughing, and you notice that the flower has gone from Reiner to Pieck, who’s taking it out of her dark hair to tuck it into Jean’s, and his cheeks redden as he brushes it more securely behind his ear.

Annie catches your attention again, pointing out idly that they’ll have to separate soon when they finish with the plane, and you tell her to just wait a couple minutes more as Reiner catches your gaze. Setting Xav, who has somehow wormed his way back into his arms, down, he walks back over to you, and his hand trails purposefully over your back before resting at the nape of your neck, a reassuring weight on your body.

“You guys okay?”

“We’re fine,” Annie replies. “You have a clingy boyfriend,” she tells you. 

“I think it’s charming.”

She rolls her eyes. Reiner smiles, and you pat the railing beside you—silent invitation. He leans in on your other side, clasping his hands and watching the fishermen pull themselves to shore, singing a tune to each other—one familiar to all three of them and one that you wish you could get out of your head. 

“Soon may the Wellerman come…”

A faint breeze tickling at your fingertips as a sharp call for embarkment splits the harbour, you simply sigh and look over at Reiner. “I just want these last few moments to last.” His eyes meet yours, and he leans forward to press a kiss between your eyes. Annie lets out a soft noise of disgust and you bump your hip against her as Reiner pulls back.

Closing your eyes and lifting your head to the wind, you can almost imagine the one person missing standing on the other side of Annie, dark hair like spun, stained bronze and eyes like warm chocolate. He’d smile and tell them not to worry in that sincere way of his that makes you believe every word he says—as long as they were careful, they wouldn’t walk into any traps.

Your chest aches, and your lips tug into a heart-wrenching smile as you begin to sing along. Reiner slips a hand in between yours, pressing his temple against your head and you loop your other arm through Annie’s.

She rests her head on your shoulder, listening to your voice, eyes on the sailors bringing in their haul below them. Reiner hums the shanty softly, distractedly, eyes cast across the sea.

You tilt your head up to the sky, at the stars you cannot see but will join one day, and smile.

#fic: homebound #reiner braun #reiner braun x reader #reiner braun x you #reiner braun imagine #reiner braun fic #reiner x reader #reiner x you #aot #aot x reader #aot x you #attack on titan #attack on titan x reader #attack on titan x you #attack on titan fanfiction #snk #snk x reader #snk x you #shingeki no kyojin x reader #my writing

[writerofshit]

I will always be a sucker for Fakes who are a lot more caring than people assume so imagine Matt still a little new to the penthouse assuming that slacking on work will be big trouble, so he works on a hack until he passes out at his desk. He wakes up a few hours later to find his hat stolen, his hair braided and a blanket tucked around his shoulders. When he emerges from his cave to apologise, Jack pulls him aside to chastise him (“If you’re tired go to bed asshole, don’t sleep at a desk that’s how you fuck up your neck”)

!!!

We love an aggressively caring family!

Matt's always been such a workaholic, even before joining the crew. Only gets worse when he's got access to resources to actually do something with that tendency. It seems to him like the rest of the crew never stops, someone always on a mission of some sort or plotting another when they're not.

So yeah, he figures he'd better do his best to keep up. Geoff had asked him to help Gavin with hacking into some government somebody's accounts, a nice little thing to keep in their back pockets if they needed. It proves to be more difficult than it should be, days of trying different techniques to no avail.

On the third day, even Gavin is ready to give up. It would be good information to have but you can only try something so many times. Matt's convinced he can do it, that he's almost there. Waves Gavin off when told he should get some rest. He will, he swears, just as soon as he gives one more thing a shot.

One more turns to two, turns to five, turns to him passed out in front of his computer.

Lindsay's the first one to find him, along with Michael. Michael snatches his hat ("mine keep going fuckin missing, what do you want from me?") and Lindsay tells him to go get Jeremy.

"Y'all two are the strongest, you've got the best chance of moving him to the couch without waking him up." In the meantime, she braids his hair. When the boys return and question her about it she just shrugs. "Like he'd ever stop fucking working long enough for me to do it this properly. I saw my chance and I took it."

The boys move him to the couch, tuck a blanket over him and head back upstairs.

When Matt wakes up, he's immediately disoriented, unsure where he is. He doesn't remember laying on the couch, or braiding his hair or- yeah, he definitely didn't leave that donut just sitting there. Oh fuck, someone must have come in. Which means they know he fell asleep on the job. Fantastic.

After he eats the donut (hes gotta have his sustenance in order to deal with the lecture he's sure to get) he goes to apologize.

"Jack, I am so sorry-"

"Yeah. You should be." Jack's got her arms crossed and she's giving him this look that definitely reads 'I'm not mad, just disappointed'

"I know, I was up late and I was tired and-"

"Then go to bed."

"It won't- what?"

Jack's face softens. "If you're tired, go to bed. Take a break. Don't sleep in your chair like an asshole, that's how you fuck up your neck."

"I was just trying to figure those accounts. Do my job, you know." He'd been expecting a lecture, sure, but not like this.

"While I appreciate that, accounts can wait. Take care of yourself first." She looks behind him briefly, and then back. Matt glances over his shoulder just in time to see Gavin disappear behind the corner. "He told me about last night." Jack says, nodding in his direction.

"Told you we still haven't gotten anywhere?"

"Told me you're always staying later than he is. That you don't ever clock the fuck out and relax." Jack says matter of factly.

"Not really a 'clock the fuck out' kinda job, is it?" Matt asks with a dry laugh.

"Sure it is. You watch Gavin do it every night. He reaches a point he knows hes not gonna make any progress, and he lets it go for the night. Has a drink, something to eat, relaxes." Jack shakes her head. "I don't say this often, but you could stand to learn a thing or two from Gav."

"Wow, you must've really fucked up if she's telling you to follow Gavin's lead on something." Michael announces from the door way.

"Gavin's smarter than you guys give him credit for." Jack says with a smile.

Michael rolls his eyes. "Yeah, I know. God, can we be done with Family Therapy Hour now? Jeremy's got 500 on Matt winning Mario Kart, and I cant wait to take his money."

Matt's about to protest, remind them that hes got work to do, but the look in Jack's eyes keeps him from trying. "Uh, well, prepare to be disappointed."

"And to be a thousand bucks poorer." Jack tacks on, following them to the living room. "I'll put 500 on Matt, too." She says, pushing him on the shoulder gently.

"No pressure at all, thanks guys." Matt mutters, only half meaning it.

As he sits there on a Wednesday afternoon playing Mario Kart, there's a part of him that feels like he should be down in his office, trying to get access to those accounts. When he wins the first two races, that part shrinks. It's still there, distantly reminding him that he should be working on something important.

Over the next couple of hours, while Jeremy lifts him in up in celebration, and Michael hollers about "fucking bullshit" and Lindsay giggles and Gavin begs for yet another shot and Jack just laughs at them all, he thinks maybe he's working on the most important thing of all.

#i really just... went on an on didnt i? #ANYWAY that end got really sappy but it be like that sometimes #we love a found family ok?? #and we love a family who cares aggressively and makes each other take care of themselves #even when that care is kicking ass in mario kart #genuinely i do love this thought and i couldnt help but expand it #fahc #ks talks #somegrumpynerd

[nebraska-is-a-myth]

Drown your sorrows - part 7

Grab your tissues dude, this one is not a happy one at all. I'm sorry in advanced

special shout out to my pal @hufflepuffkilljoy for helping me with some details for this chapter. I also feel like they’re going to kill me after reading this so wish me luck.

Masterlist

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Tommy is fortunate enough to stay conscious this time.

It's a lot warmer than the warehouse was and he's still just as afraid.

But he feels more prepared for the heat now.

Tubbo was so close to the first explosion, too close. Tommy watches the blast separate them and he can hear his friends desperate coughs from across the burning room. He can't get up, his wrist is hurt and his injured leg burns every time he tries to put pressure on it. He calls for Tubbo but he doesn't think his friend can hear him between his endless coughing and the roaring flames.

He's so thankful Tubbo isn't alone when Eret finally shows, the older man slips masks on both of them and they huddle together for a moment before Tommy hears something explode below them. He tries to cling to Eret as he reaches for Tubbo and they all plummet down into freezing water.

He and Eret sink into the water and the harshness of it makes Tommy gasp. 

Water seeps in through his mask and the tightness of it makes him panic

He attempts to take the mask off, as if that might make him less disorientated.

It's doesn't

He takes a big gulp of water into his mouth and suddenly he can't stop.

He's drowning.

His limbs flail about and he cant help but scream into the water as pain ruptures through him. He keeps taking in more and more water and his lungs spasm as they fill with murky liquid. Tommy doesn't know where he is, it's dark and cold and he doesn't know which way is up and if his body wasn't already submerged in water he thinks he might cry.

Tommy doesn't want to die

There are so many things he hasn't done yet, so many things he hasn't said.

He wanted to take Tubbo to his favorite place in the city and go adventuring through the abandoned buildings Dream used to let him demolish when he was angry or upset. He wanted to tell his best friend in the whole word that he loved him, that they were brothers until the end. He never really had the courage to say it before now, thought it would make him sound childish and weird. ( Really he was just afraid that Tubbo wouldn't feel the same, and he wasn't ready to let his best friend go just yet. )

He wanted to thank Wilbur for taking him into l’manburg, for trusting him and becoming the older brother figure he never thought he needed ( or wanted ). For teaching him how to properly aim a gun and negotiate something without shouting, for letting him become the heir to the empire they built. 

He thinks about all the movie nights with fundy and Eret, remembers popcorn fights and sleepovers, baking competitions and playing video games till early dawn. He remembers waking up from nightmares and talking to Eret about his scars, sharing the good and the bad with each and every one of them.

As the seconds roll past, Tommy can feel himself suffocating. His lungs fill with more and more water and his body starts to shut down, the pain is everywhere and nowhere and slowly he becomes blissfully aware that he is going to die here.

In the back of his mind he hopes that dream knows he’s forgiven. If he’s going to die he might as well forgive the man, he knows deep down that dream never wanted any of this and he hopes that his death will spark something in the man, and prevent the bloodshed of his friends.

The last thing on Tommys mind before the darkness swallows him is Technoblade, and he wonders if he’ll finally see him again when he goes to sleep.

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

“How old were you when you first killed someone?”

“Jeezus Tubbo what the hell dude.”  

Tommy swats at his best friend who's laying next to him on the wooden floor. They're all laying on piles and blankets and duvets and tucked up in sleeping bags like campers. Popcorn crumbs litter the floor and Tubbo has kernels stuck in his hair after he used the bowl as protection from Tommy throwing pillows at him.

The group decided to have a sleepover to commemorate Wilbur's birthday, all of them laid in a circle around the couches in wilburs living room and Wilbur almost regrets letting them into his house.

Tommy and Tubbo are layed on the floor, heads close to each other facing opposite directions. Tommy is smiling as he flails his arms at the other boy and has his feet resting in Erets lap. Fundy is on Erets left, curled up in 3 blankets like a burrito, a clear sign of Wilburs handiwork after someone made a joke about fundy being wilburs child.

Wilbur himself is half paying attention to the movie they all put on as background noise as he tries not to look like he’s actually enjoying the night his boys had planned.

Nobody spoke at first, no one was really quite sure what to say. Eventually, Wilbur took a breath and spoke in a slight monotone. “fifteen.”

Even though they may have been concerned, nobody was quite as surprised as maybe they should have been. It was a rough line of work, it wasn't really a shock to anyone that their leader had started so young.

“Robbery gone wrong, cops came earlier than expected. Shot one to save myself, nothing more to it.”

Fundy pokes his head out of his blanket burrito a little more and rests his head on his knees. “Got in a fight back in the Netherlands when I was eighteen, ended badly for the other guy.”

Eret is a bit more hesitant to respond but with a reassuring nudge from Tommy, he gives the teen a small smile and takes a breath. “Got involved with a super serious gang back in England when I was sixteen.”

He doesn't say anything more but nobody really blames him. Eret never really talks about his time back in England much, but the team sees the way he gets nervous around cameras and always makes sure he can never be traced wherever he goes. Everyone is running from something, it's why most of them came to America after all.

Tommy doesn't realize it's his turn until he’s noticed everyone's looking at him.

He laughs and swats at Tubbo for a second time. “It's your question you go first.”

Tubbo looks at his friend strangely but shakes it off and reaches to grab a handful of crisps. “Ummm, technically I haven't.”

Tommy listens to his best friend shove a handful of crisps in his mouth and his throat goes dry, he only distantly hears Fundy ask Tubbo a question but his thoughts seem to drown everyone out. 

He knows he has two options here. He knows that lying is the safest one for him, that he could just follow along with what Tubbo said and just get it over with. But he feels compelled to let the truth just spill out of his mouth and let everything into the world. He can't help it when the words start falling from his lips, he so desperately wants to shove everything back into the box he’s kept everything in for years and go back to the fun loving, annoying Tommy everyone knows.

But instead he just had to open his stupid mouth like he always does.

“I uhh, I killed mum.”

Shit

Shit

Shit

“She uhh, bled out, when I was born.”

Shut up

Shut up

Shut up

“So yeah uhh, I guess I win.”

The room is silent, and he’s brought out of his head by Eret rubbing small comforting circles into the bottom of his leg.

“Tommy.”

He really wishes he hadn't spoke

“You know that couldn't have possibly been your doing.”

Wow the ceiling is really interesting

“Tommy.”

He can't speak. If he speaks he’s going to cry and he can't cry. 

Tommyinnit doesn't cry.

He feels Tubbo moving to wrap and arm around him and he really wants to just not be here.

He’s lying on the floor of his bosses friends house, crying in front of the people he cares about most about because he couldn't keep his fucking mouth shut.

Tommy feels himself moving and slowly more and more arms are around him. He feels a blanket being draped over him and suddenly he finds himself sobbing into someone's chest.

Someone is running their hand through his hair and he wonders if that's something his mother would have done for him.

Sometimes he wishes life was different, that maybe he might have had a better childhood if his mother had been in his life for longer than three seconds.

But as he feels his own tears soak into one of his friends' shirts, he thinks that maybe his life ain't so bad.

And later in the night when he's stood on Wilbur's kitchen counter with Erets glasses hanging off his face singing loudly to random Hamilton songs with his friends, he knows he wouldn't change it for the world.

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

Tommy wakes up confused and coughing.

He can feel the water spluttering out of his mouth and he feels like he's throwing up his organs.

He’s vividly aware that something doesn't feel right

He feels wrong and disorientated and,,,

He’s underwater?

Tommy flails his limbs about and in a matter of seconds he surfaces into darkness

He coughs up all of the water that's been sloshing about in his lungs and his throat stings as fresh air floods into his body.

Through all the coughing and the sound of water in his ears, he hears a voice calling him.

“Tommy!”

He turns his head to find Eret also treading water on the other side of a mountain of rubble, he has a large gash on the side of his head that looks like it would have dried by now if not for the water continuously splashing against it. His glasses are nowhere to be seen and Erets looking at him like he knows something Tommy doesn't.

“Tommy thank god you're okay.”

Tommy swims over to where Eret is still floating and takes a moment to examine the rubble surrounding his friend. 

Most of it seems to be concrete and rocks piled up around him, but the two big metal pipes separating him and Eret are what concern him. And the fact that Eret hasn't made an attempt to move past them.

"Where's tubbo?"

"He swam over that direction, tried to find a way out I think."

"Why didn't you follow him."

"Tommy."

"Come on we can't just leave him to look on his own. He'd get lost in a bloody parking lot."

Tommy wraps his hands around one of the pipes and attempts to push it out of the way.

Eret doesn't move.

"Tommy I,"

"Waters rising, gotta move this thing before Tubbo ends up swimming into someone's toilet."

The younger boy changed angles and tried to pull the other pipe towards him.

"Tommy."

He feels Eret place his hand on top of his own but the younger boy swats it away and keeps trying to force the pipes out of the way.

“Come on man, just, just try.”

Eret grabs his hand again.

“Just help me okay!”

Water splashes up Tommys nose and he feels tears pricking at his eyes

“Just, Just do something! Please! please” 

Eret grabs a hold of both of tommys hands and holds him as close as the barrier of rubble will let him.

“Please. I can't lose you too.”

Erets voice is soft and calming. Tommy wants him to laugh and point at him and tell him how this is all just a big joke and they can all go home together and watch movies on Wilburs couch.

But he doesn't

“Hey it's okay, you're not gonna lose me alright. I will always, always be with you, no matter what.”

“Don't give me that bullshit. I don't want you in my heart or looking down on me, I want you to stay here, alive.”

“I want that too Tommy, more than anything. But life doesn't always go the way we want it to.”

Eret coughs and shivers in the water, he looks up and realizes that neither of them have a lot of time left before the water fills the room. They both know Tommy can't stay here any longer, and it's only a matter of time before the coldness of the water gives him hypothermia.

“You need to go.”

“No.”

“Tommy.”

“No I am not leaving you here!”

“You don't have a choice Tommy!”

“Yes I do! Now help me move these goddamn pipes”

“For fuck sake Tommy! I am stuck down here! Those pipes aren't going to move and I'm not leaving this fucking basement. You need to go, now!”

“I-”

“Tommy you are my brother and I will always love you but you need to get the fuck out of here right now.”

“Tommy, Eret!”

“Down here.”

Eret hears Wilbur jump down into the freezing water and he can faintly see him swimming towards him and Tommy.

“You guys okay?”

“Yes now get him out of here.”

“I said no!”

“What about you.”

“I'll be fine just go.”

Wilbur takes a moment, a moment of weakness, a moment of emotion and sadness and he looks at Eret, his friend. He feels the water clog his nostrils and nods, with his heart heavy and his mind full, he drags a tired and freezing Tommy away.

“Wilbur let me go!”

“We can't leave him!”

“we have to help him!”

“Wilbur!”

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Later on when everyone's safe and dry and the adrenaline and panic has left his system, Wilbur finds himself gazing up at his reflection in his bathroom mirror. Every time he looks at himself all he can see is the look in his friends eyes before he left him to drown, he remembers the hurt in his face and his willingness to die just to see Tommy safe. Every time he closes his eyes it's all he sees.

Wilbur stands up tall and strong in front of himself and plasters on the face of a warrior, a face that dream and George and sapnap will forever fear. He vows on this day that he will teach them what true fear feels like, no more kind words or friendly disputes.

He doesn't care about making allies or keeping peace.

His city is in danger

His mind is broken

His friends are traumatized

Eret is dead

And Wilbur wants vengeance.

If dream wants war, he’ll give him war.

#wilbur soot #tommyinnit #tubbo #the eret #fundy #technoblade #is mentioned #dream smp war #dream smp #mcyt #crime au #im so sorry about this #this wasnt fun to write #just wait till i get to the part where jshlatt comes to town

[aestheticallyunaesthetic17]

100 questions and answers

Who is your hero? Probably future me, i want to be able to grow up and be the better person that i hope they are, and the only way of knowing that is by making it happen.

If you could live anywhere, where would it be? New Zealand, Canada or USA. I lived in TX for 3 months and loved it there and I have family in NZ and Canada.

What is your biggest fear? Wasps, 100%. Not being stung but the way they look scares me.

What is your favorite family vacation? When we went to Krakow in Poland.

What would you change about yourself if you could? My skin color. I hate it so much.

What really makes you angry? People hating others or stopping others from being themselves.

What motivates you to work hard? To make future me happier than I am now.

What is your favorite thing about your career? I want to be in cabin crew, so probably the traveling.

What is your biggest complaint about your job? Being away from family.

What is your proudest accomplishment? Getting through the shit 2020 brought me without killing myself.

What is your child's proudest accomplishment? No kids rn.

What is your favorite book to read? Noughts and Crosses by Malorie Blackman

What makes you laugh the most? My boyfriend.

What was the last movie you went to? What did you think? Freaks. I was a bad movie, a little like the scary movies franchise. My friend was scared at parts which was super funny to watch

What did you want to be when you were small? An actor. Typical Leo ;)

What does your child want to be when he/she grows up? They can be anything they want to be.

If you could choose to do anything for a day, what would it be? Visit Edinburgh alone.

What is your favorite game or sport to watch and play? To watch, American Football. To play, archery.

Would you rather ride a bike, ride a horse, or drive a car? Drive a car, it's peaceful and warm. I would blast music.

What would you sing at Karaoke night? no idea.

What two radio stations do you listen to in the car the most? Heart and Capital

Which would you rather do: wash dishes, mow the lawn, clean the bathroom, or vacuum the house? Dishes or vacuum.

If you could hire someone to help you, would it be with cleaning, cooking, or yard work? Yard work!!!

If you could only eat one meal for the rest of your life, what would it be? Tandoori Prawn curry.

Who is your favorite author? Jacqueline Wilson or JK Rowling (only her books, not her)

Have you ever had a nickname? What is it? Just Em. But id like to be called Millie.

Do you like or dislike surprises? Why or why not? Depends on the surprise tbh, I like to plan a lot.

In the evening, would you rather play a game, visit a relative, watch a movie, or read? Watch a movie.

Would you rather vacation in Hawaii or Alaska, and why? Hawaii. I was meant to go this year but covid and leaving the US fucked it up.

Would you rather win the lottery or work at the perfect job? And why? Work the perfect job, id get bored sitting around all day.

Who would you want to be stranded with on a deserted island? my boyfriend.

If money was no object, what would you do all day? Travel and see the world.

If you could go back in time, what year would you travel to? 2012. To see my Nana again.

How would your friends describe you? Stupid.

What are your hobbies? Traveling, photography, music and shopping.

What is the best gift you have been given? Forgiveness from myself.

What is the worst gift you have received? Sixe XXL jacket when im an XS

Aside from necessities, what one thing could you not go a day without? My macbook.

List two pet peeves. - Breaking trust - Bad table manners

Where do you see yourself in five years? Hopefully working my dream job, maybe moved to a different country and traveling the world.

How many pairs of shoes do you own? too many, roughly 16

If you were a super-hero, what powers would you have? Invisibility or teleportation.

What would you do if you won the lottery? build my own house

What form of public transportation do you prefer? (air, boat, train, bus, car, etc.) Train, its so relaxing. Then planes.

What's your favorite zoo animal? Lions or tigers.

If you could go back in time to change one thing, what would it be? My time in America.

If you could share a meal with any 4 individuals, living or dead, who would they be? - My nana - my bf - Princess Diana - Obama

How many pillows do you sleep with? 4, two on each side.

What's the longest you've gone without sleep (and why)? 26 hours, traveling to Texarkana from Edinburgh.

What's the tallest building you've been to the top in? Idk tbh

Would you rather trade intelligence for looks or looks for intelligence? looks for intelligence because then you can earn enough for plastic surgery.

How often do you buy clothes? 1/2 a month

Have you ever had a secret admirer? Idk I guess so.

What's your favorite holiday? Summer vacation Christmas for an actual holiday

What's the most daring thing you've ever done? Moved half way across the world and lived with strangers.

What was the last thing you recorded on TV? Nothing

What was the last book you read? 1984

What's your favorite type of foreign food? Indian

Are you a clean or messy person? Both, but relatively clean

Who would you want to play you in a movie of your life? Millie Bobbie Brown probably

How long does it take you to get ready in the morning? 1 hour

What kitchen appliance do you use every day? Kettle

What's your favorite fast food chain? Chick fil A (i know, i cant buy it now tho)

What's your favorite family recipe? Nana's bacon and egg pie

Do you love or hate rollercoasters? LOVE

What's your favorite family tradition? Opening gifts on Christmas Eve

What is your favorite childhood memory? I dunno really, Ive forgotten a lot of my childhood.

What's your favorite movie? Ferris Bueller's Day Off or Beautiful Boy

How old were you when you learned Santa wasn't real? How did you find out? Probably 7/8 but I dont remember.

Is your glass half full or half empty? Half empty.

What's the craziest thing you’ve done in the name of love? Said i'd come back one day.

What three items would you take with you on a deserted island? A boat and food. Yes i am that person.

What was your favorite subject in school? Scottish school, geography. US school, government.

What's the most unusual thing you've ever eaten? Haggis

Do you collect anything? Foreign coins

Is there anything you wished would come back into fashion? Skinny jeans, my ass looks gooood in them

Are you an introvert or an extrovert? introvert that likes being sociable

Which of the five senses would you say is your strongest? hearing

Have you ever had a surprise party? (that was an actual surprise) nope

Are you related or distantly related to anyone famous? my dad is well know in the whisky business. Has his own prime tv show

What do you do to keep fit? Walk a lot and swim.

Does your family have a “motto” – spoken or unspoken? nope

If you were ruler of your own country what would be the first law you would introduce? everyone is equal.

Who was your favorite teacher in school and why? Scottish School, my geo teacher. US school, my english teacher.

What three things do you think of the most each day? My bf, my mum and America

If you had a warning label, what would yours say? Sad, angry and anxious

What song would you say best sums you up? 17 again

What celebrity would you like to meet at Starbucks for a cup of coffee? Timothee Chalamet or Tom Holland

Who was your first crush? a boy called Finlay who i rode the bus with

What's the most interesting thing you can see out of your office or kitchen window? sheep or cows very often

On a scale of 1-10 how funny would you say you are? 5

Where do you see yourself in 10 years? kids, married, settled down and happy. moved countries 100%

What was your first job? never had one

If you could join any past or current music group which would you want to join? 5sos

How many languages do you speak? 1 - english

What is your favorite family holiday tradition? opening gifts on Christmas Eve

Who is the most intelligent person you know? my mum

If you had to describe yourself as an animal, which one would it be? a cat probably or a tiger

What is one thing you will never do again? trust people fully

Who knows you the best? my bf.

#100 things about me #questions #100 questions

[avatar-the-last-jerkbender]

my heart is screaming out

- an OsaAka fic -

AO3 

Osamu: hey theyre throwing a party for me tmrw bfore i leave for college r u coming

Read 1:37 AM

(Somewhere in the distance, a little bell rings)

Osamu: hey theyre throwing a party for me tmrw bfore i leave for college r u coming

sorry i cant something came up

(A little bell rings)

Osamu: hey theyre throwing a party for me tmrw bfore i leave for college r u coming

yh what time? ill b there

(No bells ring, and we can finally move on)

Keiji is drunk. The most alcohol he’s had before is sips of champagne on New Year’s Eve but something about the sense of finality and charged atmosphere leads him to say ‘fuck it’ and knock back two White Claws barely an hour after he steps through Osamu’s front door.

The living room is usually as familiar to him as his own but now it’s packed with bodies and almost completely dark, save for the disco lights flashing around the room.

Keiji feels warmer, fuzzier than usual and finds himself cackling wildly at something Atsumu said, all his usual composure and inhibitions gone. Once he finishes gasping with laughter, he melts further into the sofa, content to spend the rest of the evening laying there completely boneless.

“Keiji!”

Osamu’s arm drapes around his shoulders as he pushes away from a cluster of people, settling heavily into Keiji’s side. The line where his thigh meets Keiji’s, where their torsos are now mashed into each other seems to burn, made even hotter by the way they’re both sweating and the alcohol coursing through Keiji’s bloodstream.

“I haven’t talked to you all evening,” Osamu gushes. “How are you doing?”

Keiji has stopped laughing now, fully raptured by Osamu’s gray eyes, pupils dilated in the dim lighting.

“Hi. I’m good.” He can smell the cheap beer one of their friends brought on Osamu’s breath and he vaguely thinks he should be disgusted. “Really good.”

“I’m glad you came,” Osamu says.

Keiji beams at him and he sees the surprise in Osamu’s face.

He distantly remembers what the other man had told him about his smiles.

Apparently Keiji had five of them:

1. The fake one 2. The one when he found something funny despite his best intentions 3. The one when he was being mean 4. The one when he was embarrassed 5. And the genuinely happy one

He has no idea which one Osamu is seeing right now but whichever one it is, he seems to like it, turning even redder before burying his face into the crook of Keiji’s neck.

“You’re going to kill me,” he groans, breath wafting over Keiji’s collarbone and making him shiver.

Keiji twists slightly to sling a leg over Osamu, moving his arms up to wrap around broad shoulders. Maybe if he held on tight enough, Osamu wouldn’t leave for college, wouldn’t leave their friends, wouldn’t leave their hometown. Wouldn’t leave Keiji. He tightens his grip and shifts further so he’s straddling Osamu and propping his chin on his shoulder. “Not if you kill me first,” he counters, as Osamu’s hands slip down to his waist.

It’s not like they haven’t cuddled before. While Keiji isn’t the most tactile, Osamu more than makes up for it, messing with his hair, linking their hands or pinkies when they walk next to each other, hugging him frequently.

But it’s different now, with the way Osamu’s looking at him like he’s the only thing in the world, the gaze he’s only seen in fragments and glimpses. Never as concentrated as it is now.

“Keiji…” he breathes and somewhere behind them, in the sea of chatter, Keiji hears someone go,”hey where’d Osamu go- holy fucking shit!”

They inch closer, lips almost touching before Keiji comes to his senses and turns his head away, pushing at Osamu’s chest.

“Wait, no. I can’t do this to you. I’m sorry.”

Osamu’s eyes flash with hurt and his jaw tenses but he nods, releasing his vise-like grip on Keiji.

The silence between them is not awkward but it feels heavy and sad, all the giddy happiness from earlier completely gone.

“I need a drink,” Keiji says numbly, clambering off Osamu’s lap and almost tripping over someone else’s foot in his haste to get to the kitchen.

The sudden brightness makes him blink and squint as he spots a pack of 4loko and makes a beeline for it. The bottle is in his hand before he changes his mind and opens the cupboard for a water glass instead.

Osamu was always meant for bigger and better things. More than what their city could offer him.

And that’s why Keiji knows he has to let him go, so he fills the cup with water from the fridge, drinking it fast to try and get rid of the sudden lump in his throat.

(A bell rings)

It’s not like they haven’t cuddled before. While Keiji isn’t the most tactile, Osamu more than makes up for it, messing with his hair, linking their hands or pinkies when they walk next to each other, hugging him frequently.

But it’s different now, with the way Osamu’s looking at him like he’s the only thing in the world, the gaze he’s only seen in fragments and glimpses. Never as concentrated as it is now.

“Keiji…” he breathes and somewhere behind them, in the sea of chatter, Keiji hears someone go,”hey where’d Osamu go- holy fucking shit!”

They inch closer, lips almost touching-

-until Keiji sees the look on Osamu’s face.

The passion from before has been replaced by pure sadness and it’s enough to immediately clear Keiji’s head.

“Sorry,” he mumbles, clambering off Osamu’s lap and settling into his side.

“S’okay,” he hears Osamu say, twining their fingers together as Keiji lets his head drop onto his shoulder.

Keiji feels his chest pang. The warmth and roughness of Osamu’s hands are a welcome contrast to his own, which are almost always clammy and cold.

He doesn’t know how they’re going to stay warm with Osamu over 1000 miles away.

Somehow he falls asleep like that, fingers tangled with Osamu’s as his eyes slip shut and the noise of the party fades into the background.

He doesn’t hear Osamu’s quiet, “I’m sorry too,” as the evening goes on.

(A bell doesn’t ring. But a dice is rolled instead, spinning and clattering until it lands on:

1)

Keiji Akaashi, University Student (21)

It’s past midnight and the caller ID is one he hasn’t seen in a few months, but it still makes his heart flutter and his stomach drop.

Keiji Akaashi immediately stops typing his English assignment and picks up the phone. “Hello?” he says, stifling a yawn.

“Keiji?”

Instantly, he knows something is wrong. Osamu’s voice is small and scared in a way he hasn’t heard in a while.

“Is everything okay?” Any traces of sleepiness are gone now and he feels fully alert, fear churning in his gut.

“I fucked up,” Osamu mumbles. “I fucked up so bad.”

Here’s what he tells Akaashi:

Osamu is dating a girl named Hitomi

and he didn’t really feel the need to tell Keiji about her because it wasn’t anything serious he swears (and that hurts Keiji in a way he doesn’t want to decipher- when did they start keeping secrets from each other?)

and it had only been a few months (months!!! That’s pretty serious!!!) but

Hitomi

was

pregnant

“I’m so lost,” he hears Osamu sniffle slightly. “Help me, Keiji, please.”

Keiji takes a shuddering breath, knowing that this is just another piece of Osamu he will never get back. “You’re going to be a great dad, ‘Samu. Get some sleep okay? We’ll talk in the morning.”

They may be time zones apart but Keiji would rather cut out his own heart than abandon the love of his life his best friend.

Besides, he means it. Osamu would be a great dad.

(A bell rings. Roll the dice again, this time it lands on:

4)

Keiji Akaashi immediately stops typing his English assignment and picks up the phone. “Hello?” he says, stifling a yawn.

“Keiji?”

Instantly, he knows something is wrong. Osamu’s voice is small and scared in a way he hasn’t heard in a while.

“Is everything okay?” Any traces of sleepiness are gone now and he feels fully alert, fear churning in his gut.

“I fucked up,” Osamu mumbles. “I fucked up so bad.”

Osamu tells Keiji about Hitomi, the girlfriend he has literally never heard of.

He learns Osamu is going to be a father at 21.

Well then.

“Congratulations,” Keiji chokes out, over the weight of his own feelings. “You’ll do great ‘Samu. I believe in you.”

Don’t you dare abandon them like you abandoned me.

(An easy way to determine futures is to draw a flowchart. The bell’s been rung and the dice’s been tossed. Draw infinite lines out from infinite nows and see where they lead)

Whether or not they stopped calling after the news of Osamu’s child didn’t matter- the same thing always happened.

Osamu called on Keiji’s 25th birthday.

Keiji told Osamu about the wedding.

Keiji asked Osamu to be the best man.

Osamu and Keiji both knew something didn’t feel right.

Keiji and Osamu both said nothing, offering platitudes and empty conversation.

How’s your child doing?

She’s four now! Would you like to see pictures?

They’re both so fucking stupid.

But there’s no reason to ring the bell here so Keiji marries Akinori and Osamu suffers in silence and Akinori cheats on Keiji and Keiji calls Osamu crying and Osamu asks where he is and Keiji is outside his apartment door and he opens it-

Osamu’s arms felt like coming home.

(Unfortunately, a bell rings now)

They’re both so fucking stupid.

But there’s no reason to ring the bell here so Keiji marries Akinori and Osamu suffers in silence and Akinori cheats on Keiji and Keiji calls Osamu crying and Osamu asks where he is and Keiji is outside his apartment door and he opens it-

Keiji almost falls into Osamu’s arms, just as big and familiar as he remembered then. But then he sees the man in the background and feels his broken heart crack just a little further.

INTERMISSION

“Pleasure of love lasts but a moment. Pain of love lasts a lifetime.” - Bette Davis

CONTINUATION

“I’m sorry to intrude,” Keiji says, suddenly feeling foolish.

“It’s fine. You’re always welcome.” But Osamu looks distinctly uncomfortable and the man behind him continues to scrutinize Keiji with sharp eyes.

“Hi,” Keiji says, regaining his composure. “I’m Keiji Akaashi.”

“I’m Rintarou. I’m ‘Samu’s boyfriend.”

The nickname sounds so different when it’s not Keiji saying it.

They shake hands.

“We just moved in together,” Osamu says. “Would you like to stay for a bit?”

Keiji gives a smile, one of the fake ones Osamu hates. “I’m sorry, I think I have to go.”

(A bell rings)

“We just moved in together,” Osamu says. “Would you like to stay for a bit?”

“So when were you going to tell me you got a boyfriend?” Keiji blurts out.

(A bell rings)

“We just moved in together,” Osamu says. “Would you like to stay for a bit?”

Keiji chews on his lip, considering. “Sure, why not?”

He picks up his suitcase and heads inside.

(The dice lays abandoned and the bell rings again.)

Somewhere, in another path of the universe, they meet as old men. They talk about everything that could have been, dance together one last time before parting ways once again, secure in the knowledge that their love will last but too scared to finally take the leap and see how it plays out.

Somewhere, in another path of the universe, they meet as old men. They talk about everything that could have been, dance together, and finally agree to take the leap and try to make a relationship happen.

After all, timing means nothing if you aren’t willing to work for what you want.

There are other universes where their love doesn’t behave as gracefully as they want it to, where they never talk again but-

Not this one.

Ring the bell, please!

(Multiple bells chime)

It’s not like they haven’t cuddled before. While Keiji isn’t the most tactile, Osamu more than makes up for it, messing with his hair, linking their hands or pinkies when they walk next to each other, hugging him frequently.

But it’s different now, with the way Osamu’s looking at him like he’s the only thing in the world, the gaze he’s only seen in fragments and glimpses. Never as concentrated as it is now.

“Keiji…” he breathes and somewhere behind them, in the sea of chatter, Keiji hears someone go,”hey where’d Osamu go- holy fucking shit!”

They inch closer, lips almost touching-

Keiji pauses to look at Osamu’s face. He looks scared and slightly sad, and Keiji sees a million futures play out in front of him.

In another life, maybe he wouldn’t be selfish with Osamu’s affection. Maybe he would let Osamu go do whatever he wanted, even if that didn’t include Keiji.

But Keiji also knows he loves Osamu in a way he loves no one else and while he knows he could fall for other people and welcome them into his life-

(Keiji can practically count Osamu’s lashes. They’re short and black, a contrast to the dyed gray hair on his head.

He slowly runs a thumb over Osamu’s cheekbone, skin soft under his fingers and continues to make eye contact, unwilling to look away for even a second.)

-Osamu is the only Osamu he will ever meet. It’s an undeniable fact and somehow doesn’t entirely seem like a bad thing.

“We should-” Osamu starts and Keiji smashes their lips together.

He can taste beer on Osamu’s tongue and he chases it, tilting his head so he can kiss him deeper.

Osamu’s arms are wrapped tight around his waist and Keiji settles even further into his lap, trying to mold their bodies together.

Someone wolf whistles in the background and Atsumu is shrieking, “ewwwwww!” but he can barely hear them through the sound of his heartbeat pounding in his ears.

They pull apart with a gasp for air and Keiji self consciously wipes his lips with the back of his hand. Osamu looks just as blissed out and confused as he feels, eyes wide and mouth open.

“I know you’re leaving. I know the time isn’t right. But I don’t know if it will ever be,” Keiji says, pressing his forehead against Osamu’s. “I don’t want to lose you. Please, can we try?”

From here he can see the slightest bit of moisture welling up in Osamu’s eyes.

“Of course. Anything for you, Keiji.”

Keiji smiles wide, one of the genuine ones he knows Osamu loves and leans in to hold him tighter.

(No bells ring. Everything is okay. They’ll be okay.)

#haikyuu!! #osaaka #hq rarepair #akaashi keiji #miya osamu #akaashi keiji x miya osamu #this just in: stupid idiot writes exclusively for rarepairs #ramblingraccoon writes

[futurewriter2000]

Not Alone

A/N: Ah, I love this so much and if my family wasn't attacking me right now, I'd be happy publishing this but UGH! Fucking family. Cant wait to get rid of them. Also, this is written on my phone so the taglist and the "further reading" thingy can't be put.

XX

Hate. It wasn’t easy to ignore it and it wasn’t easy to cover the pain, pressure and cowardice. 

You walked in the dark room, your heart pounding yet your face flat serious. Eyes turned, eyes observed, nothing much to see until they saw him. His grey eyes locked with yours, much wide, much scared, you nodded and left to your seat at the table. 

He was sitting in the middle, between his father and his mother. She was looking at you with a sceptical look, he was looking at you with surpirse and his father was staring somewhere at the void, scared out of his mind. 

To him, you had the expression of someone who isn’t excited about the war yet isn’t excited about the peace either. You seemed pretty neutral, pretty confident and more or so...pretty.

The Dark Lord spoke, some things happened, such as embarrasing Lucious Malfoy by snapping his wand in a half. The same thing happened to you. He asked for you wand. 

“(y/n).” he hissed through his teeth and all eyes darted to you. Slowly, calmly, you looked at his red eyes and replied.

“Yes, Dark Lord.” your expression was still calm, your heart as well. He can’t hurt you. He never will. You are too important to him to be killed, even if he wasn’t fond of you- truth was, you weren’t fond of him either. 

“Your wand.” he gestured his hand and without a doubt you pulled out a wand and let it, hand-in-hand travel to the red-eyes. 

He weighted it, sniffed it with his slit nostrills and snapped it like a piece of chalk. You didn’t flinch, only turned your head back to the front and kept your expression flat. 

It irratated the Dark Lord that you weren’t even slightly intimidated by his action, nor the fact that you haven’t showed even one fright of him. 

But he saw it- the boy in the front of you, I mean. The boy whose eyes were bright and scared, wide and surprised. His white hair were slicked back and for some odd reason, the eye contact made him forget where he even was; to see his Muggle-Studies proffesor floating above him. To know there were Death-Eaters around him and the Dark Lord, that there was also you, who didn’t look like a Death Eater at all. Just a student like him. 

But why you? -From all the people, it had to be you. And he knew you. He knew you since he remembered how to walk. You were the kid who came into these visits and played with him, simply because you had to. And he was an awful, spoiled child meanwhile you were the opposite. Kind and nice, shy and quiet. He could remember those days on the swings where he kept insulting you while you only smiled and complimented him. 

When your parents died and your uncle got the custody it seemed that nothing has changed. You took notes in class, you studied in the library, you walked the common room with the intetion of going to your dorm. You and Draco always exchanged words but a few on every two years. You seemed so casual, someone nobody would ever expect to find you here. 

So why were you?

He wondered, he tried to figure it out and he tried that in the most subtle way he could find. Knowing he was Draco Malfoy, subtle was never his best feature.

He entered your carriege, just the two of you. He didn’t even bother to say hi, to greet you in any proper way. He just put it all out there. “Why?” he asked and you looked from the window to the boy in front. “Why were you there?”

“Same reason as you are.”

“Which is?”

“Because I have to.” you quirked an eyebrow and he shook his head.

“No.” 

“No?” 

“No.” he spoke again. “No because there is no way you would ever be involved with this. Your parents were not Death-Eaters, hell, your uncle isn’t one so why would you betray your family if you were not a spy?”

“And why can’t I just be involved because I want to?” you started to raise your voice at him. “It’s not your business to interfere with mine, Malfoy.-”

“It is when your business is just the same as mine! So tell me why!!” 

“Because you don’t know shit, Draco Malfoy! Not about me and not about my family so why don’t you and your pathetic arse stay out of it!”

He was quiet for a while, looking left, turning right and lastly, staring back at you. "You didn't even flinch."

"He used to be like us, Draco. A student, a Slytherin. He's a wizard, just like us. A half-blood, who we both are not."

"How do you-?"

"Research, Draco." you replied. "He is more educated than us. He knows more about magic, dark and good, about creatures, all of them, about potions, all of them, about the ministry, the muggles. People are terrified of him for what he did and how he looks like. If he looked like us, would they ever be more afraid?"

"So you admit you work for Dumbledore?! It's those ideas he stuck in your head!" he accused but you only rolled your eyes.

"I do not work for Dumbledore. I work for The Dark Lord. Why? Because he pays me good."

"He pays you?"

"Yes, he does. Would Dumbledore pay me? I don't think so."

"But how, what?"

"You ask too much questions." you looked back through the window, seeing the castle come close.

Before he could put his thoughts in order, the carriage already stopped and you were on your way into the castle meanwhile he was left behind as he always seemed to be.

---

It wasn't until the next three days that he has used to observe you but you seemed so normal. With Harry and his other two friends was easy to know they were up to something. You were just as the other students; you went to class, you ate in the Great Hall, you talked to your friends, you were exceeding in school work... Normal but not to him. No. He knew one thing nobody else did.

It wasn't until he was given the assignement from the villian himself: kill Dumbledore. He was a wreck and you could see it from a mile away.

"You're being obvious, Draco. Cool it down." you whispered from the other side of the shelf.

He looked through it, seeing your eyes illuminate their colour. He walked your direction and spoke. "So you know?"

"Of course I know, you git. I think by now the whole England knows by how you were acting."

"I am not that obvious." he snarled and you stopped.

"You are being suspicious!" you snarled back. "The Gryffindors already know something is going on with you and they are keen on finding out what that is, meanwhile Dumbledore only needs to conifrm his theory."

"What are you talk-"

"I see things, Draco. I observe. I see how Dumbledore looks at you, how Potter and his gang looks at you... How Pansy looks at you..." you broke the eye contact and shocked as he was at first, he smirked.

"Oh, so you're looking at Pansy now? " he began to tease. "Are you jealous?"

"Of that cow? Sure, believe it." you rolled your eyes and stiffened out that lower lip of yours.

"Do you fancy me, (y/n) (y/l/n)?" he grinned and was now leaning against the shelf.

You turned your head away, hiding the blush that crept on your cheeks. "No, of course not. You can only dream." you turned back, hoping the red stain was gone.

"Or you can." he winked and with all your frustration you put your hands on top of the books, hid your cheeks behind them and looked at him with your eyes.

"I am looking out for you, you arse. If you slip, I have to do it and I do not want to do what you have to."

The grin fell into a frown and he stiffened up. "I will not slip."

"Then cool it down and pretend you're not going to kill our Headmaster."

---

It was late at night when he crawled back from his nightly routine. He crawled into the common room and for the first time, he saw you asleep on the sofa. He stood frozen for a moment, contemplating why and how.

He walked to you and sat on the empty edge of the sofa. His hand touched your shoulder and he lightly woke you awake. Your eyes slowly opened up and as you saw him, you let your hands slid deeper into the pillow and your head closer to the edge of it. "Where have you been?" you asked sleeply.

Another smirk curved on his lips and he pulled the blanket closer tp your neck. "Worried?"

"Yes." yours eyes were still closed yet his were observing you intently.

"Just tying some loose ends before it happens." he said and now you finally opened your eyes.

Your heart was beating faster and you slowly sat up. Hugging your knees, you let your eyes look at his and your mouth to ask the question. "Are you really going through this?"

For the first time he saw that you were scared and for the first time, he felt he wasn't alone. "I have to, don't I?"

"Why?"

"Because I have a family."

You looked down, took a breath and looked back up. "I knew you were kind of prick of a child but I didn't know he could be blackmailed into doing something as horrible as this. This will scar you, Draco. Do you really want to carry it?"

"If he asked you to do it, would you?" his voice was calm and before you could answer, he spoke first. "No, don't answer that. You are the kindest, nicest person I have ever known and since my childhood you haben't done any harm that I know of. I know how your parents died and I am sorry they had to go through that for you but you-what are you doing? This isn't you. You're not someone to be here and you know it. "

"I told you Draco. Like you, I don't have a choice. Me and the Dark Lord are distantly related. Don't you understand!" you shouted and he was taken aback. "His uncle is my dad's father. My grandfather. That makes me and Tom some sort of cousins. That was why he hates me so much. Because he is not a child of pureblood line and I am."

He looked away for a moment, squeezing his ezes shut and pinchingthe bridge of his nose. "Still?" he looked at you. "You're nothing like him."

"It's complicated."

"Is it?"

"You're asking me that question?"

"Yeah." a quirk of his lips softened his expression and you laid back down, smiling.

"When you can explain your situation, I'll explain mine." you kicked the blanket off you and threw it over your shoulder. You wished him a goodnight and left up to your dorm.

---

The next time you saw Draco Malfoy was by the freezing lake. Usually, you would have seen him with his friends but this time, he was alone.

You ran to him with your nose burried in your scarf and your hands in your pocket. "Hey, Draco!" you appeared on his side.

"Stalking me now?" he smiled and you rolled your eyes.

"No." you replied and continued to walk along.

With all the whiteness the snow caused in the bacground, his eyes were the ones that were the purest white at the moment. They were having clouds of grey in it, which was what made it even more pure.

"Potter thinks I did it." he said. "The Katie Bell thing." he glanced at you and you turned away.

He stopped. You stopped. "Why didn't you tell me?" he put his hands on your shoulders. "I could have done it for you."

"I told you, Draco." you took his hand from your shoulder and covered it with your other hand. "I know what I am doing. He was testing me and I made sure that the cursed necklace wouldn't hurt her."

He kept his eyes locked on your hands. From all the frost and cold, your hands gave hin the opposite and all of a sudden, he was warm as he was back in the common room.

You smiled at his flushed cheeks and intertwined your fingers with his. Leaning on his full arm, you put your hand on it and started walking along.

He didn't protest only walked along side you, smiling slyly.

---

The next time the two of you had locked hands was when The Dark Lord was calling Draco over to his side. You stood by him, scratched and bruised, angry yet exhausted.

You were squeezing it, begging him not to go. "Don't go, Draco." you whispered in his ear but he only turned his scared grey eyes to you and said.

"I'm scared." and he was already crossing the ground, leaving you alone.

The Dark Lord turned to you and pointed his wand. "What? Not joining us, cousin?" a crooked evil smile appeared on his thin lips and everybody turned to you with a gasp.

You hid all your fear inside and put your bravest face on. Your feet moved forward, step by step until you were almost close to him, smelling the rotting flesh of Tom Riddle. "Joining you? In what exactly?" you began and his grin disappeared. "I know you killed my uncle the moment you got your hands on him. Was it jealousy, cousin?"

"You're asking for death little girl." his nostrils flared and his snake-like eyes grew wide.

"Because no matter what, cousin, you will never be a pureblood. What kind of great wizard has blood of half of it?" you were now close and he was looking at you aoth a terrified look in his eyes.

But you weren't afraid anymore. Not of him. To see he can feel just as you can.

Until something sharp pierced your stomach and you looked down to see a silver dagger. "I've been wanting to do that since I killed your father." he said and you looked up into hisnred eyes. "You didn't know? This dagger is a family heirloom. Thought if I already killed your grandfather with it, your mother and your father, why not kill you with it as well?"

The blood was aready in your throat bug you didn't want to let him win. "Desperation looks ugly on you, Tom Riddle." you smiled with your red stained teeth. "You'll never have the power you want."

And with all his might you were thrown on the ground, his wand prepared to shoot and if it wasn't for some screams im the bacground, you would have been dead. There was nothing to see for you. It was black all of the sudden and before you went into a dark sleep you could only feel your hand in your own puddle of blood.

Something woke you up though. There was a hold of your head in someone elses hands and you could feel them bringing you closernto them.

"Stay with me, (y/n). You have to stay with me because if you don't, I don't know how I will live with myself."

You opened your eyes just to see his face, putting all your effort into smiling and speaking to him. "Are you saying you fancy me, Draco Malfoy?" you caughed and with wide eyes he smiled and pressed his forehead to yours.

"Yes, I do and I beg you to keep yourself alive so I can take you on a date already." he kissed the top of your head and kept you close. One of his arms was wrapped around you while the other carressed your cheek. "You're going to make it. You will."

---

It was torture for Draco Malfoy to stand where he stood. His hand held a boquet of flowers meanwhile his eyes kept themselves on the lovely decorated grave. He bent down and placed the flowers. "I'm sorry." he said and left a tear fall from his eye.

"He cared for you deeply." a soft voice came from behind him and he turned his eyes to see the kind and nice girl he always knew. Your hands wrapped themselves around his torso and you leaned your head on his shoulder. "Severus Snape. Who knew he was fighting for Dumbledore?"

His hand slid around your waist and pulled you closer. He kissed the side of your head. "I am just happy that I only lost him and not both of you." he whispered and you turned to in his hold to look at him whole.

Your fingertips brushed against his pale skin and as you smiled, he did the same. It was enormously hard for him to get through the consequences of the war but you? For you he would fight another if he had to.

"I love you." he said, rocking you left and right in his arms.

"I love you too."

#draco malfoy imagine #draco malfoy x reader #draco malfoy #harry potter imagines #harry potter imagine

[downwiththeficness]

In the Blood-Part Nine

Pairing: Brasa/Female OC

Word Count: ~3,000

Warnings: None

A/N: Listen, y’all. This is where we diverge from canon and just, you know, keep going. I’m making a lot of inferences here on the relationship between Brasa and Amaru, which may or may not be supported by the show. As many fic authors have said, “fuck canon”.

Part One Part Two Part Three Part Four Part Five Part Six Part Seven Part Eight  Part Ten  Part Eleven Part Twelve

The bed was just as fucking glorious as she remembered it—or, had dreamt it. Whatever.  Lilah turned to her stomach and buried her face in the pillow, sighing in relaxation.  God, but it was nice to sleep on something other than a hotel mattress.  She wondered if he had one of those memory foam toppers underneath the fitted sheet, the bed molded to her body perfectly.  Lilah was warm and comfy.

Reluctantly, she reached over blindly to her phone and tapped it, surprised to see that she’d slept about twelve hours.  Her head throbbed a little where she’d been hit, and her hip ached, but Lilah felt rested.  She sat up and looked blearily around the room, trying to get her bearings.  

Distantly, she’d felt the bed dip beside her at some point in the night, but Brasa was nowhere to be found.  She leaned over and turned on the light, scrubbing at her face and yawning as she slid out of the bed.  

After making her way to the bathroom, relieving herself, and scrubbing her teeth, she padded back to the bed and climbed in.  She could go back to sleep, could possibly sleep the entire day away, if she wanted.  The thought was enticing.

A noise caught her attention at the back of the room, another door she’d missed the previous night. Through it walked Brasa.  She was shocked that he was wearing a white shirt, though it was customarily long sleeved.  Lilah was not shocked that he was wearing the gloves.  She made a mental note to ask him about it sometime.

“How did you sleep?”

She smiled, “Amazingly.”

Pausing near the foot of the bed, he took her in.  She was wearing a camisole and a faded pair of sleep shorts. There was very likely a bruise on the side of her face.  Her eyes felt swollen with heavy sleep.  Still, he couldn’t seem to take his eyes off her.

“I have been researching about...caring for humans,” he said, finally.  His shoulders canted forward as he leaned his palms on the foot board.  “You’re supposed to eat when you wake up.  Are you hungry?”

Lilah would have been touched by his words if she hadn’t been distracted by the play of muscle as he moved.  In black, most of him was hidden or cast in shadow.  In white, she could see every dip and hollow. Her fingers itched to traced the strong lines of his body, to explore what he kept in secret.

Drawn to him as if he’d tied a string around her belly and pulled ever so gently, Lilah pushed the covers down and crawled forward.  The wood beneath his palms creaked, but he remained still.  

“That’s very sweet of you,” Lilah whispered when she reached him, “To look that up.”

She lifted onto her knees so that she was more or less level with him and gave in to the urge to run her hands up his arms and over his shoulders.  His eyes were on her mouth,  a flush creeping over his cheeks and down his neck.

“If I’m to keep you, I need to know how to please you.”

Lilah very much doubted that he would need any coaching on that subject, if their past interactions were anything to go by.  For the sentiment, she kissed him softly. His returning kiss was, if possible, more soft, barely a brush of skin against skin.  More than anything, a question.  Lilah answered it definitively.

With a low moan, she threaded her arms around his neck, holding him to her, sucking his bottom lip into her mouth. Fuck, but she liked the way he tasted.  The coffee and caramel of his scent somehow deeper now that she got her mouth on him.  Dipping her tongue into him was even better.  He met her halfway, and she reveled in the way she could feel his body go tight with tension beneath her hands.

Wanting to know if he tasted this good elsewhere, Lilah broke away, using one hand to tilt his jaw to the side.  She mouthed at his pulse point, her breathing uneven as felt his throat convulse. Some inborn instinct made her open her jaw and run her teeth along that patch of skin.

Brasa grunted and both hands came up to squeeze her hips hard.  Lilah choked a scream as pain lanced up her injured side. She hissed a breath in, her hand immediately covering the wounded area.

“I’m sorry,” he said, panicked.  His hands released her immediately.

She shook her head, “Not your fault.”

“Lilah,” he warned, already touching her again, lifting her camisole to inspect her hip.

It was ugly.  Bruised in shades of blue and purple, about the span of a salad plate.  Lilah grimaced as he slipped a thumb beneath her shorts and underwear, tugging them down an inch or so.

“I hit the wall a little harder than I thought,” she offered by way of explanation.

Brasa’s eyes met hers, “I threw you into that wall.”

“To keep me from a rather aggressive interrogator, if you’ll recall.”

His gaze dropped back to her hip and he swallowed.  She could see the guilt in his expression plainly, it was painted all over his face, his slumped shoulders. She needed to distract him.

“I seem to remember a conversation about food. I’d like to get dressed and have some, if you’re still offering.”

One side of his mouth flicked up, “Come on.  There’s a back entrance to the kitchen.”

The back entrance was, in actuality, yet another hidden door down the hall from his room. Brasa guided her through a tight niche and pushed it open.  They stepped into the very back of the freezer.  Goosebumps rose all over her skin as she navigated around a few crates of produce and into the empty kitchen. Everything was stainless.  Stainless and spotless.  

“Make anything you like,” he prompted, taking a seat at the massive island in the center of the room.

Lilah was not a good cook by any means, having spent years in hotels with continental breakfasts and in diners on the road.  But, eggs and toast were simple enough.  She gathered her ingredients, trying to think of something to say.

While she waited for the toast to, well, toast, she asked, “Do you eat?”

“Food?”

Lilah shrugged, noncommittal.

Brasa folded his hands in front of him, watching her rifle through drawers, “I can, though it provides little sustenance.”

Making a happy noise when she found a cookie cutter, she looked at him over her shoulder, “What gives you sustenance.”

“Primarily blood,” he answered. Lilah had a feeling that he’d deliberately left the sentence hanging to see how she’d respond.

She carefully twisted the cookie cutter into the center of the toast, carving out a little circle in the middle.

“Like the culebras?”

“Yes.”

Humming, she reached over and set a frying pan on the stove, turning on the gas burner. While she waited for it the heat, she leaned her good hip on the counter and faced him.

“Do you have to kill when you…” She couldn’t find the words.

His expression carefully neutral, he finished the sentence for her, “Feed.” Then, “No.”

“How often do you have to feed?”

The fingers of his hands flexed outwards, “Every few weeks.  Sometimes more, sometimes less. Depends on how active I am.”

Much like humans, she wanted to say, her attention shifting to the pan.  She dropped the two slices of toast into it and cracked and egg in to the middle of each, setting the top on the pan.

“You said you’d been working for Javier for two years.  How long have been in this line of work?”

Lilah thought, “Hard to really put a number on it.  I did a little bit here and there before I really made it my job.  I’d say no less than seven years.”

“Javier sings your praises.”

She laughed, “I’ve made him a lot of money.  Pretty sure its my pull that paid off his house.”

“Its good that you’ve made a name for yourself,” he said, expression proud.

She lifted the top off the pan, the eggs needed more time, “I guess.  Although, that really wasn’t my aim.”

“What was your aim?”

Lilah gave him a sidelong glance, “Make enough to retire.  Go somewhere quiet. Maybe pick up a legal hobby.”

“A simple life.”

She repeated the statement, confirming, as she checked the eggs again.  They were nicely cooked, still runny.  Turning off the burner, she plated the food and turned to sit catty-corner to him at the island.  

Brasa eyed her meal with interest, “What is this called?”

“Eggs in a basket,” she said, plucking a fork from a bundle of them stuffed into a lazy Susan as well as a paper towel from the roll sitting next to it.

He watched her eat, eyes amused, “Is this your preferred breakfast?”

Lilah shrugged, “No idea. I usually just eat what’s available.”

Head cocked to the side, he decided, “Then, I’ll have to make sure you have as many options as possible, until you find your favorite.”

Blushing, Lilah forked another bite into her mouth, “Do you have a favorite? Human food, I mean.”

Brasa thought for a moment, “It used to be a meat pie.  Easy to make, easy to take with you.”

“And now?”

His eyes met her with a strange intensity, “Marshmallow, roasted over a fire.”

Lilah stabbed a piece of toast and ran it around in the yolk to soak it up, wondering how he’d focused on such a specific delicacy, though she couldn’t argue with him.  Roasted marshmallow was a pretty good favorite food.

“What happens if you don’t feed often enough?”

“It painful.  Very painful.  I would not wish anyone to feel as if their guts are being pulled out of them in one long rope.”

Lilah chewed thoughtfully, trying not to picture the image he was painting, “You sound like you’ve been starved before.”

Brasa made a soft noise of assent, and he looked away, “When Amaru—my queen—was displeased with me, she would deny me blood for months.  One time, she restrained me for a year, coming to my room every once in a while to taunt me.  Before she released me from my bonds, she pulled my fangs. It took several weeks to regrow them.”

Hand shaking as she held her fork aloft, the question was out of her mouth before she could stop it, “Why?”

“Because,” he replied, “I stared at her too long.”

“That is insane,” Lilah gasped, shocked at the frivolity of the punishment.

Brasa’s mouth twisted in derision, “That is Xibalba.”

She pushed her plate away, “I’m glad we’re going to close that portal.”

Before he could answer, voices filtered in from outside.  Lilah, out of instinct borne from years of reacting quickly to shifting circumstances, stood and grabbed Brasa by the arm.  She all but hauled him out of his seat and to the freezer, shushing him when he laughed.

They were in the back hallway before she could relax, though she heard shouts of ‘fucking night shift’ through the door before she could get it closed properly. Leaning against it, Lilah pressed her hands to her face and finally allowed herself to laugh. She felt ridiculous, and she was sure that she probably looked ridiculous. Still, a little bit of whatever was coiled up inside her relaxed.

Brasa took her hands and led her back to his room and through to the hidden room she hadn’t yet seen.  She marveled as the stacks upon stacks of books inside.  There were bookcases lining every wall, filled to the brim.  In the center of the room was a plush leather couch and a desk, a chair rolling chair tucked into it.

“I have work that needs my attention, but I’d like you near me. Can you occupy yourself with a book while I work?”

Lilah nodded wordlessly, already heading to one of the shelves and running her fingers along the spines. There must be a thousand books in here, most of them in languages she didn’t know.  Still, she looked for a while, pulled one here and there to either read the back or thumb through to the middle, until she found one that might keep her attention for a while.  Then, she settled into the couch to read.  

Like any good reader, she would lay in one position for a while, shifting a bit, then turn over, shift again, lay her feet over the arm, over the back.  Absently, she tugged a strand of her hair, wrapping and unwrapping it around her finger.  The story was decent enough, an easy read, until she got to the part where the antagonist was revealed to have been helping the hero all along.

“No…” she breathed, sitting up and then falling back down to lay on her back.

From her left came, “I was wondering when you’d get to that part.”

Lilah rolled her head to the side, eyes wide, “You’ve read it.”

The smile he was holding back widened, “I’ve read all of them.”

“And you didn’t warn me?!”

“Would you have enjoyed it half as much, if I had?”

Lilah stared at the book for a minute, “Probably not.”

“Well, there you go.”

She read for a while more, until Brasa pushed away from the desk and turned off the monitor.  He circled around and sat heavily on the sofa, one arm laying across the back of it.  Lilah made a mental note of the page she was on before setting the book on the floor and sitting up to face him.

“All done?”

He sighed, “For now.”

“What is it that you do?”

“I run a fairly large medical supplies company.  We contract and ship all over the country.”

Lilah’s brows came together, “Somehow, that was not the answer I was expecting.”

He waved away the statement, “My people need blood, a lot of it, and regularly.  The company hides the shipments we need to bring in to keep them fed.”

Smart and efficient.

She blinked at him, “Blood bags, that’s how you feed?”

“Sometimes, though its not,” he stopped, suddenly looking uncertain.

“Go on,” Lilah prompted.  She wanted him to tell her the truth.

His eyes shifted to the side, “Its not preferable.”

Her brain told her to let it go, but she asked it, anyway, “What is preferable?”

Brasa swallowed and looked her in the eye, “From the source is preferable.”

“Why?” She asked while her mind was shouting at her to shut up.

“Its warmer,” he explained, “thicker.  Sweeter.”

“Ah.” Then, “Why not feed from people?”

Sitting forward a little, his eyes softened, “We don’t need dead bodies piling up in a centralized location.  People will look for us.”

Lilah shook her head, “You said you didn’t need to kill to feed.”

“I don’t.  Others often don’t have the control to stop when they’ve had their fill.”

A long moment of silence passed between them and Lilah had the feeling that they’d turned a new corner.  A whole host of information had opened up before her and she wanted to know more about it, but couldn’t quite pick a route to travel on.  It didn’t matter.  They had time.

“There are donors, of course,” he continued, much to her surprise.

“Oh?”

“Some people like the feeling of allowing one of my kind to feed on them.”

She snorted, “I’m not surprised.”

His brows lifted in question and Lilah took the opportunity to pull her legs out from underneath her and scoot forward.

She touched his cheek, running her fingers up and over his orbital bone, “I’ve seen enough adrenaline junkies to know nothing is quite out of bounds when they need a fix.”

Brasa held her hand to him, turning to press a kiss to her palm.  Her breath hitched and she could feel her heart kick up at the feeling zinging down over her forearm.  He pulled her a little closer, until their knees met on the cushion. Lilah’s balance, already precarious, threatened to give out beneath the weight of his intense scrutiny. She wasn’t sure exactly who moved first, but suddenly he was kissing her.

His heat surrounded her immediately, drawing her in.  Lilah wished that she’d kept her camisole and shorts on instead of the sweater and jeans she was currently wearing.  She wanted to feel his hands, no matter that he was still wearing gloves.

A rumble vibrated through his chest, and she was suddenly on her back, one leg sandwiched between his body and the couch. The other was firmly grasped and wrapped around his waist.  His body weight dropped down onto her, pressing her hips open.  She winced and choked out a high pitched cry.

Brasa was off her in an instant, on his knees beside the couch before she could blink. She was left staring at the ceiling, bewildered.

“I’m calling a doctor.”

“No, you’re not,” Lilah countered, swinging her legs over the side and regarding him firmly.

His jaw clenched, “You’re hurt.”

“Yes, but I will heal.”

Brasa shook his head, “Let me get you something for the pain.”

“No. I don’t want painkillers. Its just a bruise.  It will be better in a few days.”

There might have been further argument, but her stomach growled.  How long had she been reading?

“I think I need to feed you again.”

Lilah smiled and nodded, “Three times a day, plus snacks.”

He gave that little half smile that she was beginning to be fond of, “I’ll keep that in mind. I’m going to the kitchen.  You stay here.”

Lilah watched him go, then leaned down gingerly and picked up the discarded book.  Likely, she’d finish it that night.  She gazed down at the cover, thumb running along the pages.  The last twenty four hours had been… strange, to say the least.  But, damn it if she wasn’t looking forward to seeing what happened in the next twenty four.

#In the Blood #from dusk til dawn #from dusk til dawn: the series #fdtd #maurice compte #brasa

[midoriyaizukustan-inactive]

Angst ending- Deku focuses all the energy stored in OfA into his fist, including his own life force. He manages to defeat the villain, but not only his arm is ruined forever, but he manages to lift and clench it into a fist as a final gesture of victory, before dropping dead on the ground.

actual picture of me reading this ask:

HHH but,,,i can see this happening and ive actually thought abt smth similar

so im thinkin in the inevitable final battle we’re gonna have of ua vs. all for one and the league of villains, midoriya probably is gonna have to face off shigaraki and all for one all by himself (cause toshinori is not gonna be in any state to fight)(but i refuse to believe hs gonna be dead though nope no no)

maybe bakugou will be there for a couple of seconds but midroiya’s mostly gonna have to deal w it on his own

anyway so the nomus r the biggest problem. theyre strong and have absolutely no qualms abt hurting and killing ppl, and worst of all, they will not stop at anything unless u somehow manage to kill/incapacitate them bc they will Not stop obeying orders

and who gives them orders? shigaraki and all for one

midoriya picks up on this during their fight, so he’s trying as hard as he fuckign can to stop them bc holy shit his friends and teachers and schoolmates are all on the line and he CANNOT afford to mess this up

so as the battle wears on and as midoriya gets more exhausted, he realizes,,,theres only gonna be a couple ways to end this in his favor. and fuck, he’s so scared, he’s not even technically done with high school yet, he hasnt saved nearly enough people, but his friends, they need him to focus now, so-

so he starts building up one for all, but its gonna take time so he needs to figure out how he can distract all for one and shigaraki while he does this

so he talks and dodges attacks mostly bc he can’t attack at all if he wants a build-up of power

this leaves him,,,vulnerable,,,though,,,

shigaraki probs decays some of his chest nd hero suit, but its nothing midoriya can’t ignore for the time being. no, he’s mostly worried abt all for one, and if he’ll figure out what midoriya is doing

all for one does, in fact, figure out what midoriya is doing, bc this is exactly how his brother would act

so he does his power/red-black stabby quirk bs nd midoriya gets stabbed like three times (leg arm and shoulder) but still midoriya is holding on bc he needs their attention to stay on him so they cant give the nomus additional orders, nd also he needs to end this like yesterday

since midoriya is focusing on one for all, he can hear the other users’ voices. some of them are yelling at him, asking him what the hell he’s doing, doesnt he know he’s gonna kill himself?, some of them are shouting out directions for him to dodge and jump and run and anything to help keep him alive, and one voice (all for one’s brother) is telling him how to keep the power buildup so it wont rebound onto midoriya (…at least, not until it’s supposed to)

so midoriya listens, cause he cant really talk back to them to reassure them otherwise, nd he’s just. so exhausted honestly, and also his arm is starting to burn which is frankly the last thing he has time to worry about, but also it means it’s working, just a little longer-

midoriya feels smth click when his life force slides into the deal, nd all for one’s brother is kinda like “hey kid so problem” but midoriya still can’t talk back, and he can see his friends in the distance behind all for one and shiagraki on another part of the battlefield, and they look- they look-

theyre just as exhausted as he is, and theyre surrounded by nomu, and midoriya will not let them get hurt, so-

so he begins to charge, because when his life force connected with one for all’s power, he knew the build-up was ready to be used

all of the previous users are screaming at him for a hot second, before all for one’s brother gives midoriya directions on how and where to hit his brother to be most effective. midoriya ignores how sad and choked up he sounds cause he just doesnt have time-

just like all might, midoriya fakes one hit and parries with another; shigaraki is right next to them, a hand reaching out to disintegrate midoriya’s arm, so he gets caught up in the blast as well.

everything goes white for a moment and midoriya cant really feel anything for a split second.

then the world fades back in, and midoriya’s entire fucking body is burning, gaining intensity the closer you are to his arm. He’s almost certain his arm has been completely blown off, but when he opens his eyes, it’s still there.

horribly mutilated, but there. his hand is still curled into a fist, still punching all for one.

oh. all for one.

midoriya tries not to throw up at the sight.

yeah, he’s not getting back up again. the only problem is, midoriya thinks as he stumbles back a couple steps, he himself is probably not, either.

the force of the blow left him in a crater. he almost wants to cry, because dammit, everything is on fire; he knows that his entire arm and shoulder are broken, and it seems like everything else is not far behind. his nose and mouth are dripping blood, in addition to the flesh wounds on his chest (thanks, shigaraki) and the stab wounds from earlier bleeding like no tomorrow; how is he gonna climb out of here?

still, despite his grievances, midoriya shuffles forward, each step aching as he tries to claw out of the literal hole he’s punched himself into. he cant move the arm he punched with at all; his fist is still clenched.

still, he manages to heave himself up and out of the crater. the battle is at a standstill, is what he finds when he reaches the top.

some people have passed out from the sound, midoriya can see. jirou lies protected by yaomomo and kaminari as she tries to get her bearings again.

others have passed out due to the blast snatching oxygen away from them for a few precious moments. they’ll be fine, though, midoriya can tell; he can see kirishima’s chest rising and falling as he breathes unconsciously.

midoriya raises his gaze, exhuasted, to where his friends were in the distance, seconds before he punched all for one.

he can see shigaraki passed out, having hit the side of an upturned rock too hard, which was there thanks for pixie bob

his friends are okay. theyre stumbing to their feet, looking about, and he catches todoroki’s eye while they do so.

he smiles then, breathes out a sigh of relief – theyre okay – before raising his fist (the one that’s horribly mutilated; it hurts to move, but midoriya doesn’t care).

he starts falling back, then, and he can’t shift his feet to regain his balance.

he falls like a house of cards.

his breath rattles in his chest, and it’s how he knows he��s not long for this world, anymore.

he’s too exhausted to feel panicked, per se, but he- he’s gonna miss his friends so much, he’s gonna miss mom, toshinori-

tears start collecting in his eyes, but he’s too dehydrated to form enough of them that they can fall down his face freely.

he doesnt- fuck, he doesn’t regret doing it, he just-

he’s not going to last long enough for anyone to even get to him, he’s going to die with no goodbyes-

then the voices of the other users fill his head again.

their soft, sorrowful congratulations, reassurances that he did the right thing, and that dying is scary but it doesn’t hurt, and he’s going to be okay, wherever he ends up next.

it does little to ease the fear, but it does do something, so midoriya is thankful nonetheless.

im sorry, all for one’s brother says abruptly.

why?

my fight with my brother should never have ended at the cost of a teenager’s life.

midoriya can’t help but laugh a little then. he coughs up blood for it. if all it took was one life, i’m glad it was mine. i wouldnt want anyone else to fall to him.

and it’s true, midoriya isn’t lying, it’s just. he’s gonna miss his loved ones so much.

he closes his eyes, breathes out of a broken chest one more time. his lungs are too tired to inflate again.

distantly, he can hear his friends calling his name, but he’s just…so tired…

there are soft murmurings from the other one for all users, but midoriya can’t make them out anymore.

all he can really hear is a ringing in his ears, an echoing call of, “Midoriya!” but he cant…

he hasnt done nearly enough. he doesnt feel like he deserves this rest.

but…all for one is gone. surely he can take a few minutes for himself?

yes, that should be fine.

the world falls away.

#fun fact! i cried while writing this #also holy SHIT this got long im so sorry djkfjnkd #i just. have feelings #oh shit #also i learned how to finally add a read more link to go me #anyway im in tears #me: midoriya is my favorite character! #also me: what good is mha angst if midoriya doesnt fucking die in it huh #anyway u have simultaneously fed and hurt me with this ask #im cry #midoriya izuku #c makes a word #answer

[lightwardenau]

Benevolence with a WoL offered for Sacrifice?

me: this’ll be short n sweet!me, 1705 words later: huh

this is less a WoL than a Reader in general but ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ what else can ya do when the bug strikes

Benevolence/Reader

Seasons are different when it's eternally day, eternally mild; plants flower all year round, those that prefer the night have long since died, snow is equally unlikely under the blazing sky, and cool breezes only come from the coast.

Still, in the last ten years there's been something of a cycle--curious as it is. By now, everyone knows what it means when the eternally bright sky darkens with clouds, not night--never night--but still a difference, a respite. When thunder that shakes the very foundations of Eulmore and every settlement in Kholusia rolls in and lighting splits the sky, forking out from Mt. Gulg, it's just further confirmation that the balance of power has shifted back.

Innocence has been torn both from his throne and limb from limb yet again by Benevolence, bringing with her the rain and some small amount of shade. Not only that, but when the six-winged creature siezes sovereignty those Sin-Eaters that roam the lands are displaced to the Empty, or at the very least the few that remain are more passive, attacking only when provoked. The people have learnt to hold on tight to whatever modicum of peace they can, and this, however, spurs a new course of action to the fore in the hopes of prolonging it. Those who remember a time when they curried favour with the Sin-Eaters can't help but lean into the old ways of thought when they fret over the length of her stay before she vanishes again, and so the plan to gift the Lightwarden one of the city's number germinates.

You're chosen for the honour for a reason, though what reason is a stab in the dark on your leader's part. No-one knows what Benevolence is like, aside from the forces of nature that come with her presence to give her her name. Perhaps you sing, perhaps you dance, perhaps you paint, perhaps you write, or perhaps you're simply beautiful--regardless, they hope she likes you and in liking you will stay longer--keep Innocence from returning to exert his spoilt will from on high again. They don't tell you of the thought in the back of their minds: that you go to die. To be consumed. That you'll be the first in a long line of people just like you, fed the the Lightwarden in exchange for protection. You're hardly a fool, however. You wouldn't change your mind even if they had told you such up front--you've a desire to see the people you love safe, regardless if the cost is your freedom or your life.

And so you're draped in white silks, gold jewellery hung on your wrists, around your neck, your ankles--bare feet and aside from the drapery, bare skin. Your last meal is taken in Eulmore, in opulence, and you're allowed whatever you desire in thanks for your bravery--you take advantage of this as much as you can, but nerves will only allow you to eat so much before you excuse yourself to stare at the mountain that looms in the sky from a balcony and wonder just what exactly the creature you're to be offered to is like.

Terrifying, most likely. Especially if she can rend Innocence to shreds.

 ---

 You're deposited as far up the arm of the Talos as your escorts can take you without fear rendering them completely useless, and not for the first time you're made aware of just how impractical the white finery you're wrapped with is for climbing rock, especially in bare feet, especially in the rain--no matter how warm it is. Still, you haven't especially far to go, the others turned tail only a short while ago and already you're at the boundary line where the rain stops falling and granite becomes marble, searing white as the sky is usually. You almost have to avert your eyes before they acclimatise and instead cast your gaze around for...whatever it is you're meant to be doing next before you hear it.

Across the winding floorplan of this place there's a staircase shrouded by a gold archway, and beyond it you think you hear...sobbing?

With little else to go on and a distinct lack of Sin-Eaters present to put any further fear into you, you make your way toward the sound. It takes a little while--this place is clearly built for those with far greater stride lengths than you--but you pick your way across cool, dry marble for long enough that you're simply 'damp' and less 'soaked' by the time you reach the foot of the (blessedly normal-sized) staircase and begin to climb.

The creature you find yourself staring at the back of is larger than any Sin-Eater you've ever seen--you hazard at full height she's thirteen feet tall or thereabouts and with six white, feathered wings protruding from her back, which is toward you. She seems to be sat kneeling in a position that gives you space to roam your gaze over yalms of bare, smooth, dark skin from her spine down even as you feel the power of the light roll off her in waves. Facing away from the rest of Mt. Gulg as she is, with her head in both hands, the cries that emit from her seem somehow both heartwrenching and musical as her chest heaves with grief for something you don't know, her emotions intense enough to choke you up. Moving quietly, skin on stone, you look at her from the front--a decision  immediately regretted since her sobs halt abruptly the moment you're directly ahead of her. From this angle you can see the liquid gold of her tears overflowing between clawed fingers, and distantly you realise that with the silenced sobbing also comes silenced rain beyond Gulg.

Her hands fall away from her face sharply and you note the scar that runs though her right eyebrow, down across the acute corner of her closed eye, and ends somewhere around a sharp cheekbone. She studies you as you study her and you don't know how you can tell with her eyes firmly shut, but you know she's looking at you. Suddenly you remember exactly why you're there--so caught up were you in the mystery of this place and the Lightwarden within. 

"H--Hello." You start, for lack of anything better to say. Mercifully, she spares you further fumbling, canting her head to one side, snow white and curled hair bouncing lightly as she does so.

"What reason have you to be here?" Benevolence asks, and her voice vibrates through you in a way that weakens your knees. Her tone is an octave lower than you were expecting, her cadence measured in the manner of someone that weighs every single word before speaking, and behind it all is the chime-like sound of clear crystals against one another. It is, in a word, 'Angelic'.

"I…" You pause, wondering how best to frame this as the reality of your situation sinks in. You may die here, or you may not, and you have no idea which is worse. "I'm an offering." You steel yourself, "Or a sacrifice."

The creature regards you further for a moment before standing to her full height and towering above you in a manner that gives you an eyeful of the expanse of her bare skin, 'staring' down for a beat longer before facing the direction you know Eulmore to be in. A large, full lip curls in what you pin as a sneer as her wings shake out a little. The term 'ruffled feathers' comes to mind.

"Is that what He demanded?" The loathing that colours her voice is a surprise, but in some ways a welcome one--the enemy of my enemy and all that. You hasten to correct her.

"No!" You half-yelp, hoping she's not about to turn her ire on either Eulmore or yourself and wanting to head such a trolley of thought off at the pass. Benevolence faces you once more, frowning slightly and you take it as your cue. "We wished to thank you! For breaking the stranglehold--Innocence's tyranny. We--"

"--You wish me to stay, and take his place forever." She finishes for you and you nod once in answer after a moment's hesitation. There's another pause as she muses and you find yourself almost wishing she talked half as much as Innocence did--at least then you might have an idea of what was going through her head.

"If I'm not to your tastes, there will be others." You offer, even as you hope to be made a liar. Let this start and end with you, you hope. Benevolence continues to silently observe before she sighs, heavy and weary with a weight you feel settle leaden in your chest simply by hearing it.

"Innocence is a worm that shall always be churned back up out of the aetherial loam, sweet one." She intones, although she sounds as dissatisfied as you feel, "He is as endless as I am, no amount of...offerings will change this. I fight him because he believes he has a claim to this throne, I leave because to stay would rip this place apart when he returns. The cycle is the cycle, regardless."

"I--" Whatever you were to say dies in your throat as you tear your gaze from her closed eyelids and stare down at your hands, fingers knotting as you process this. There's no point to what you've done, Innocence shall always come back and she will always leave, and now you're stood vulnerable and alone in front of a Lightwarden with no way back. This whole thing has been an exercise in futility and you'll never be able to warn the others.

So wrapped up in these thoughts are you that you barely notice the large hand held out to you until its right in front of your face. You look back up at the Lightwarden, confusion clear as she smiles down to you, soft and with a warmth you feel in your bones, like basking in the sun.

"No need for an offering, nor a sacrifice." Benevolence's eyes open, and for the first time you bear witness to her unearthly gaze, eyes of solid gold peering down with a kindness that matches the name. "But a companion, perchance?"

#benevolence #fic #mod chai #anonymous