#☽ glimpses of nightmare | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

letmesleep8 · 4 months ago

Text

even if I die screaming // elliexreader

CHAPTER 2: To Someone Special

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

chapter 1 | chapter 3 | AO3 gets it first

content warnings/tags: subtle homophobia; friends to lovers; christmas love.

notes: hello again, buddies! <3 chapter two is here, thank you for the notes! let me know in the comments in case anyone wants to be tagged in chapter 2 btw

•─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────••─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────••─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•

"Every second counts, I don't wanna watch tv anymore"

— Bags, Clairo

December 24, 2038 Winter

Dear diary,

Christmas is FINALLY coming up! I've always been a big time Christmas girl but this year it's extra special: Ellie suddenly realized she would not self-combust if she showed up at one of my Christmas parties just once! Well, it's not exactly a party. Mama's gonna be on patrol on the 25th, so I called Ellie, Dina and Jesse over to watch some movies. Dina and Jesse decided they'd spend the holiday with the boy's parents this year for once and Ellie, I believe, felt pitiful and decided to come by.

I like her. She can be closed off, but she's fun. Cat said she is easy to like when she makes a bit of effort. They had a fight last week and I think I saw them kiss once, maybe twice. Mama's not the biggest fan of Ellie, she says she "doesn't think that's normal". How does she fight literal zombies every week and her biggest fear is a lesbian?

Gonna do some baking now. Hope Ellie likes pie.

•─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────••─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────••─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•

I placed some blankets on the couch and put the best holiday movie I could find next to the player. Our house was always incredibly tidy, I can't stand dusty places. I lit a candle and put the star I made myself on top of the pine. I'm committed to having a Christmas tree every single year, it doesn't matter how hard I find to bring it inside by myself. To me, it's a glimpse of what life was before the outbreak, and I also realized that my mom finds some sense of normalcy in these things. In a world like this, we lack some tradition. My kitchen timer rings and I run to the oven, the apple pie I've made looks great. I carefully take it off the heat and place it on the counter.

"It's a blizzard out here!" I hear some knocking on the door. "I am about to freeze to death!" I walk to the door to find Ellie all bundled up, her tiny nose red from the cold, the calluses on her fingers covered by navy blue wool.

"Come on in, sorry for the waiting", I reply as I brush some of the snow off her shoulders. She enters the house, a thankful gaze as she sees the lit fireplace. The girl takes off some layers of clothing along with her shoes, sitting on the couch.

"You should stop wearing sneakers on the snow, your feet are soaked", I threw her a blanket. "You're gonna get a cold."

She scoffs, "Well, if I ever do I know that I can count on ya' as my doctor", a slight smirk present on her face, still red from the low temperature. I smile and roll my eyes at her, maybe slightly blushed, 'cause my face definitely feels hot.

I cut each of us a piece of pie and joined her on the couch. “You like Christmas movies?” I smirk. Of course she does, who doesn’t like Christmas movies? Well, I am quickly surprised by her, who admits she’s never watched one.

“I’ve never really been into Christmas n' shit”, Ellie shrugs her shoulders, “not really any holidays at all.”

I look at her, mouth wide open in disbelief. How does one live without ever watching Home Alone? “We’ve got a lot of catching up to do”, I exclaimed, excitedly. I get up from the couch and run over to my dvd shelf. A few seconds later I came back with three more movies for us to watch.

Our plan was to watch all the movies this afternoon but we soon lost focus. We talked for hours while “A Nightmare Before Christmas” repeatedly played in the background, we kept hitting “restart”, saying we were gonna actually watch it this time. Instead, we discussed the simplest of things, drinking tea and sharing Stevie and her warm fur on our laps.

“Okay, I am not saying they're all dead”, Ellie’s out of breath laugh filled the room. To me, it seemed brighter all of a sudden, as if we had lit the third homemade scented candle of the day. “It’s just a probability, we wouldn’t even know”, she continued.

I threw my head back, laughing. “At least they’re voice actors, it wouldn’t be as weird. Could you imagine running into an infected that looked just like the girl from Pulp Fiction?” I shook my head, trying to erase the thought. “I think I’d pass out.” She laughed while shaking her head.

“You really do not like to fight, do you?” She grinned, teasingly.

“I don’t think anyone does”, I replied. “Would you still do something like this if we were born before the outbreak?”

She nodded her head “no” without hesitating. I raised my eyebrow, wondering if she was going to elaborate. A moment later, Ellie continues: “Astronaut, I’d like to be an astronaut, maybe a musician.”

I smiled softly, she seemed to have previously thought about this. After a while I, too, respond: “I would like to be a writer, perhaps a teacher. I really like kids.”

I could see in her eyes that had softened her demeanor. She looked into the floor, smiling. “I think you’d be a great teacher, you’re all bubbly and… fucking gentle”, she stated.

I looked into her, my eyes whispering “is that bad?”. She then gave me a smile that, to me, said “not at all”. Her slow approach asked “can I come close?” My worried gaze declared “this isn’t right”, but the sudden free will of my hands shouted a crystal clear “I object”. My left hand touched her right,I could finally feel the warmth of her fingertips. A good liar could pretend it was only a distasteful accident but I am as true as the sky is blue, so I trace the patterns on her index finger with mine until I could find rest in her palm.

Ellie moved her hand, she was going to hold mine with her palm. My heart is filled with anxiety when, as subtle as a lightning in a dark room, my mom bursts the front door open. “Merry Christmas”, she yells across the room to us with her welcoming smile. I don’t think it was honest.

Some minutes later, Ellie decided it was time for her to go. Mama insisted she took a piece of pie for Joel, so she did. The cold hugged my body as I opened the door for her and she quickly disappeared into the same blizzard she came from.

#ellie x reader #ellie williams #ellie the last of us #ellie x fem reader #the last of us #ellie x y/n #the last of us fanfiction #ao3 fanfic #ao3 link #ao3 #archive of our own #sapphic #fanfic #the last of us 2 #the last of us part 2 #christmas au #even if i die screaming

49 notes · View notes

brisquad-unit-4402 · 1 year ago

Note

Trick or treat 🥰🍬

tags: ambiguous relationship (could be read as platonic or romantic)

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

You wait at the door, but the more seconds that pass, the less you expect. It doesn’t take this long just to pass out candy!

You shuffle on your feet, ready to leave, just as the door slams open. It opens a path to darkness, then—

“RAAAGH!”

A masked person with golden eyes gets right into your face and shrieks.

Without thinking, you lurch back. Your instincts are screaming to run, but your brain stands its ground, analyzing the figure before you. It stands tall, large, and covered in blood.

And smells like tomatoes?

The figure chuckles, and lowers its mask. You catch a glimpse of golden hair and a fanged, mischievous grin.

It shoves a candy bar straight into your hand next. “I hope I didn’t scare you too bad!” Luca laughs.

Then he raises his mask again over his face. Now that you recognize his blond hair poking through, it’s not as scary. “But who am I kidding, huh? You’ll see my mean, evil, and scaaaaary self in your nightmares tonight.”

He shoves another candy bar into your grasp. King size? “Now scram before I haunt you!”

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

✧. ┊ ⁭masterpost ✧. ┊ ⁭kofi

#4402 answers #4402 writes #luca kaneshiro #luca kaneshiro x reader #luca kaneshiro fluff #luca kaneshiro headcanons #luxiem x reader #luxiem #luxiem imagines #4402’s halloween 2023 treats #these will be sporadic bc i'm. also. busy this halloween lol #but i'm forcing myself not to get pressured with these drabbles 😌#nijisanji x reader #nijisanji en #mystaposts

41 notes · View notes

cherryrainn · 1 year ago

Note

I really like the way you write, I don’t know why I can’t like and follow you, I hope I will fix it ssoon.

For the first time I read about a yandere shredder, I thought that NOBODY likes him 😳

𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘴𝘵

Yandere shredder x brother / sister reader, had a very unpleasant dream

Tmnt 2016

hello!! these shredder asks always get me excited hehe. also, thank you! and thats nonsense, i love shredder sm!

☽ ༚ ༵ ۰ ✧ ۰ ༵ ༚ ༵ ۰ ✧ ۰

— nightmares embrace

yandere! shredder x sibling reader (platonic)

the moonlight filtered through the curtains as you tossed and turned in your sleep. in the depths of your subconscious, a sinister force weaved a tapestry of darkness, pulling you deeper into its clutches.

the dream began with a haze of shadows, twisting and contorting like ink spilled in water. gradually, the form of shredder materialized before you, his piercing eyes fixated on you with a dangerous mixture of longing and possessiveness. the atmosphere grew suffocating, the air heavy with a foreboding presence that seeped into your bones.

shredder's voice, laced with a dark obsession, reverberated through the dream. "you are mine, my dear sibling. no one else can understand you like i do, no one else can protect you like i can."

as his words hung in the air, tendrils of darkness enveloped you, ensnaring your limbs and stifling your cries for help. you felt trapped, suffocated by the weight of his possessive love. panic surged through your veins as you desperately fought against the nightmarish hold.

in the depths of your despair, a flicker of light emerged. it was the memory of your bond, the unbreakable connection you shared with shredder. drawing upon your strength, you summoned the courage to resist the suffocating darkness. with a surge of determination, you shattered the chains that bound you, breaking free from shredder's nightmarish grasp.

suddenly, a jolt of terror shot through you, waking you from the nightmare. you found yourself in your room, drenched in sweat, the remnants of the dream clinging to your consciousness. fear clawed at your chest, and your eyes darted around the room, searching for any sign of danger.

as you sat in the darkness, shivering, you became acutely aware of a presence in the room. dread settled in the pit of your stomach as you turned towards the figure standing before you—it was shredder. the very sight of him intensified your fear, and you trembled, unable to tear your gaze away.

shredder's expression softened as he took a step closer, his voice carrying a hint of vulnerability beneath its usual darkness. "i... i know you are afraid of me, and i understand why. the nightmare you just experienced, it's my fault. i never wanted to cause you pain or fear."

his words caught you off guard, conflicting emotions swirling within you. fear warred with confusion as you tried to comprehend his unexpected admission. it was the first time you had seen this side of him, this admission of regret and understanding.

with cautious hesitation, you found your voice, the tremor apparent. "why... why did you appear in my nightmare? why... why do you haunt my dreams?"

shredder's gaze dropped. "i know my actions have been driven by possessiveness, by a twisted sense of love. but i never wanted to cause you harm. you are my sibling, and it pains me to see you frightened because of me."

as his words sank in, you began to glimpse the complexities of his character. beneath the layers of darkness and obsession, there was a shard of remorse and genuine concern. your fear began to waver, replaced by a glimmer of understanding.

"i'm... scared," you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper.

shredder nodded, his eyes reflecting genuine remorse.

with a gentleness you didn't expect, shredder reached out, his hand hovering in the space between you. as usual, he didn't ask you if you wanted a hug. at the end of the day, everything he wanted to do he still did.

you hesitated for a moment, then cautiously extended your trembling hand towards his. as his warm fingers intertwined with yours, a surprising sense of safety washed over you. the fear lingered, but in that moment, you saw a glimmer of hope that perhaps shredder could become the brother you needed.

embracing the vulnerability of the moment, you allowed yourself to lean into his touch. shredder's grip tightened, providing an anchor against the storm of fear and doubt.

#y/n #reader insert #x reader #angst #yandere shredder #shredder #shredder x sibling reader #sibling reader #platonic #yandere #nightmare #tmnt 2014 #tmnt bayverse #tmnt 2016 #tmnt #teenage mutant ninja turtles

90 notes · View notes

immoralimmortals · 5 months ago

Text

A Song With Ten Names

Chapter 16: Laplace's Angel

Chapter 1 ☆ Next chapter ☆ AO3 ☆ Featured song playlist

Summary of chapter: Hurt people hurt people.

Author's Note: The song for this chapter is Laplace’s Angel (Hurt People? Hurt People!) by Will Wood.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Have you ever died in a nightmare?

Woke up surprised you hadn’t earned your fate?

Have you ever felt like Atlas, threw your back out on the axis

And collapsed and threw the planet away?

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Kakuzu flips through another page. It isn’t the same book as before, not his catalog of horrible villains and great heroes alike (there is, of course, no difference once your body hits the ground), but rather an innocuous one pulled from the small library in this home they’ve invaded. A long time here with no daily escape as before necessitates a way to pass the time, and a good read or two or ten will do. How long has it been since it was occupied? How long since these texts have been touched? The traveler wonders this, idle hands behind her back, as she watches Kakuzu read.

…

Neither say a thing, though for different reasons. The performer walked in, had something to say, and is now distracted with the mere sight of him. Ditsy, as always, huh? Kakuzu curses with the shape of his lips alone behind his mask, no voice for her to hear and take it the wrong way. His stare is locked onto the yellowed pages, and they are brittle in his fingers. He is not going to talk to her, at least not if he has to start it.

In the corner of his reddish eye, the hunter sees her pick a book off the shelf, back facing him and one foot sticking up in the air behind her. It’s as if she was acting as someone getting a book instead of simply...someone getting a book. Her selection is made with a sing-song humming tune he doesn’t recognize and she plops down next to him on the long couch, not quite touching but still too close. Frankly, even if she had sat as far as possible, it’d still be too close. Kakuzu moves his eyes alone to watch as she places the book upon her lap, opens the cover to the back instead of the front (just as she did the first time) and pretends to do the same as he.

…

Kakuzu has the revelation that he can’t just ignore her, can he? Fuck. Though he doesn’t mean to squint, the expression is made anyways as a result of scrutinizing the woman so hard for this strange behavior.

“What,” he mumbles in the back of his throat. His voice is unpracticed and staggered, as if he hasn’t used it in conversation for a long while. “Are you doing.”

“Sorry,” she begins, because of course she begins with that. “I just figured...you know, how kids just learn how to read by beginning to try? Maybe it could work for me.” Perhaps the nervous element of her wide smile is invisible to him. He answers simply:

“You aren’t a child.”

And though the corners of her mouth stay up as she looks over her shoulder to him, they no longer reach their cheeks.

“No…” she admits, clinging to hope, “...But…”

A horridly awkward silence, and her instincts for keeping damn dreams and ideas to herself receive painful reinforcement. She waits just a second, for the sake of perhaps not appearing too hurt, before setting the book down on the end table so soon after being picked from the case for the first time in years. Kakuzu doesn’t get a glimpse of her face as she walks out the same way she came, but she can see her shoulders slump down, tighten closer to her sides. A double edge sword of relief hits its blow to the man’s chest. She isn’t here. He doesn’t have to worry about her being around in this moment anymore, about the tension he feels after everything.

But now...she isn’t here. He’s pushed her away.

Dammit. In his mind, he curses her for not making this easy, but deep down he knows he’s the one that should be reprimanded. His own book closes and he massages the bridge of his nose. What a damn headache…

What was Pain thinking, sending him back?

And what a painful existence old books have, interest in them merely a flight of whimsy, ending as soon as they have no purpose.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Ooh, could you take a look at me?

(It’s the norm for animals, it’s the norm for chemicals)

Am I bad, am I bad, am I bad, am I really that bad?

(It’s the norm for particles, eye for eye for tooth)

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“What’s it like?!”

“Tobi—”

“Huh, Takara-chan??? What’s it like to be from space!”

“Tobi!”

Though the distraction for her prior social faux pas is much appreciated, the traveler folds her arms as patience wanes. She’s not literally from the stars...right? She didn’t fall from the sky. Not as far as she’s been aware.

“I’m not from space, I- I don’t mean to lie to you, so listen!,” she requests, “There’s just people who have gone there!”

“What did they tell you about it?” The insatiable mask cocks his head. He’s like a toddler, always asking “why” not for the answer but to see how far he can go.

“Tobi, I-...I don’t know them!”

“Why not?”

“I just don’t!”

“That’s like saying everyone personally knows a Kage, Tobi.” Kisame smirks; he looks simultaneously weary and relaxed, perching his inner elbow on a bent knee as he sits on the front porch steps alongside the two, who are leaning against the railing. “Give her a break.”

She blinks. “A..Kage?” she repeats, slowly. Someone in the background rolls his eyes but is ignored.

“Ah...that’s right. You must have different government structures than us. A Kage is...literally speaking, the ‘shadow’ of a nation. Depending on which one, they may be closer to a king than a democratic leader. Some nations choose based on merit, some based on silver spoons in a newborn’s mouth.”

The woman hums, rolling the word of her tongue again. It’s familiar…:

“The Kage is an idiot, isn’t he?! All that power means nothing with no respect. What’s a land without a leader?”

Oh yeah...back from that first day with Hidan. You know. The one where she killed a man. Goddammit Jesus Christ, she had nearly forgotten about it, but she just can’t get away, can she? She exhales, long and loud and tired, reason seemingly inexplicable to anyone but her.

“What, you getting bored?”

“Mm?” The woman looks up to the voice over her shoulder. “Oh, hi Hidan.” She opts not to explain herself, creating a fair gap of time where the reaper walks from the door, down the stairs without giving the swordsman on them a glance, and turns to face her while he stands on the ground. “What’s up?”

“I asked ya a question.” He rolls his neck upon his shoulders as if he’s stiff with idleness himself. “Are ya getting bored?”

Blink blink. Is it an insult to say she is? The woman looks to her fellow performer, the other jester in the group who wears orange and black to clash with her blue and white. Seems like he has the same idea in mind, not talking to her but mirroring the movement she makes to look again at Hidan.

“I…” she stutters. But Hidan simply raises an index finger:

“Remember how I used to make your day by bringing you snacks and shit so you didn’t just eat Kakuzu’s shitty garbage?”

“……” She narrows her eyes. It wasn’t Kakuzu’s food, it was food he gave her money to buy. She’s also pretty sure loaves of bread don’t count as a snack. That’s more of a staple food. “...Yes?” she has no choice but to say.

“Then boy is it YOUR fuckin’ lucky day!” A thumb is used to thrust into his own chest with this uproarious promise. The shape of his mouth and the intensity in his eyes is somewhere between excited and manic. “This guy is gonna take ya out to dinner! That should make up for lost time, yeah?”

Kisame can’t believe his ears. What is it with the zombies and being uncharacteristically generous when Takara is around? She seems receptive, too, her face lighting up.

“Oh hell yeah! I’d love to!” And then those bright eyes turn to the shark. “I’d love to take everyone out to eat!” That is not what Hidan offered, but he can’t interrupt fast enough. “We can get seafood!”

“Seafood?!” A sound to feign puking comes off of a tongue he sticks out in disgust. “I was thinking steak. We aren’t fish.”

Kisame grunts under his breath. That’s right. Hidan is looking right at him, clearly with something to prove.

“Oh. Sorry...” The mousy girl shrinks into her lean onto the banister. “I just promised Kisame we’d...have seafood the next time I went to town...” Oh how heartbreakingly quick the woman deflates; she lowers her head and purses her lip, getting so hushed she’s almost not heard at all. “We were talking about how we loved it…”

Kisame gives Hidan a look. Hidan simply...looks.

He looks.

...Like he’s being asked to eat dogshit.

“I don’t mind waiting on that type of cuisine till a better time,” the swordsman offers, to save the day, voice smooth and eyes locked on magenta ones. “I’ll still tag along. Steak is fine.”

“Aw, Kisame…!” Hidan squints at the way she coos at the blue guy, how she hugs his arm in appreciation...admiration? Adoration?! The reaper’s lip thins until it starts to hurt.

…I see what game yer playin’, asshole, Hidan says only with his sharp stare.

You’re insane if you think she’s going to be alone with you for so long, Kisame returns.

It’s so nice that they’re actually getting along… the performer dreams with her eyes closed to their bickering.

And here Tobi thinks: this is going to be such a fun shitshow, isn’t it?

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

And now we're singing

Ooh, whatever you think of me

(It’s the norm for chemicals, it’s the norm for particles)

If you were in my shoes, you’d walk the same damn miles I do

(Yes, it’s only natural)

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Their wrists swing back and forth as they reach the depths of the forest trail, a smile on her face as she arrives with two of her closest friends (and one guy who is just there to see it all go down). Hidan’s head, oh so slowly, peaks past the girth of Kisame’s cloak to frown at his disciple’s hand holding the shark’s. There’s no way that’d be fine by Jashin.

“…” Purple eyes slide up, deadpan and hooded at the woman, waiting as if she’ll realize her folly herself, but she does not. He needs to ask the obvious:

“Takara...why the hell are you holding his hand?”

And though she blushes and rubs the back of her head with the free palm, she laughs and her grasp does not stop. Even worse, Kisame does not make her stop. “To not get lost,” she explains, and before she can excuse it herself, Hidan interrupts with his admonishment:

“What?! What are you, fucking five?”

It always stings more sharply when someone else says what you’re thinking. So ashamed, she lets go.

...But Kisame catches her mistake, putting his grasp back into place.

“I rather prefer I not get lost.” He beams down at her; yes, she has a comrade in him. This is okay, be as silly as you like. Kisame earns her smile yet again. Hidan grumbles.

Over the next couple steps, he makes his way over to the woman’s free side and wordlessly threads her other set of fingers in his own. The two men glare sparks over the top of her head. As he’s distracted, Hidan’s other hand is held.

He nearly swings Tobi off the face of the planet.

“TOBI! GET THE FUCK OFF OF ME! I’LL FUCKING KILL YOU!”

“Wao-oh-wao-oh!” he bounces with each attempted fling, sticking like flypaper to his arm. Awkwardly, the traveler giggles.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

We’re only tuning to the tone of the bell curve now

Ask not for whom it tolls

But with my head up in the clouds, I can see so much ground

And from up here you look like ants in a row

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Hidan catches a couple of people looking at his back, tugging each other’s sleeves and whispering nonsense about being Akatsuki. His lip curls down, his annoyance practicing in his throat before throwing over his shoulder.

“If you guys have a problem, you can stop being cowards about it! Eh?” The villagers are allowed to leave without consequence as Hidan gets distracted, the woman tugging on his own cloak sleeve. She’s frowning at him, like she’s worried. He doesn’t get it. “...What?” Her mouth opens, but she doesn’t come up with a soft enough explanation for him in fast enough time. “What!”

He’s just sort of...a lot. There’s not really a quick and easy way to say that to someone kindly, she realizes. “...Never mind.” Her mission was accomplished all the same, and there’s no more conflict. At least, not any she’s aware of yet.

“Takara-chan!” A gloved hand grips a surprised lady’s shoulder, pointing over to a shop with a green awning. “We should go here! I found something you’ll LOVE!”

“I—” An unwillingness to leave a distinctly sensitive Hidan alone cannot beat out Tobi’s forceful guiding, and she is taken by the arm and swept away, leaving the two red-clouded men alone together on the street, ordinary life surrounding those who are anything but. Fish eyes glance over, above teeth that grin less in joy and more like a predator bares fangs.

“It’s you they’re looking at, you know,” Kisame coolly accuses.

“What?” Hidan responds in disbelief, tilting his head to the side to make his sideglance harsher. “Watch yourself. You’re the damn walkin’ talkin’ shark, you freak.”

Words like this mean nothing to the swordsman. “Not like this they were, last I was here. It’s definitely you.”

More frowns and concerned mumbles fill Hidan’s backdrop as citizens stop what they’re doing to note his presence; he looks so different in daylight. He can’t help but turn his head around trying to take it all in. Kisame offers no forgiveness as he becomes the focus of the reaper’s gaze once more. Sharks, after all, do love toying with prey.

“From what I was told, you only have come here at night, only to brood next to her menacingly.”

Hidan’s fist is clenched so hard it begins to shake—

“Hidan-senpai!”

The crowd gasps and children’s eyes are covered as the named man punches Tobi square in the stomach the instant his shoulder is tapped. The injured part of his body is quickly held, head bobbing side to side to convey wooziness where a face cannot.

“How many times do I have to tell you! Don’t FUCKING touch me!”

“Oh, zombie?” Kisame asks.

“WHAT!”

Undeniable now, everyone’s staring right at the silver demon. Hidan has never, once, in his adult life cared what other people thought…

In the distance, he glimpses her. The figure in white so serene, so content, in slow motion loses her delight as she turns to see what he has been doing.

...He has never cared what other people thought until now.

The social outcast pushes out of the crowd straight to her, needing to forget anything has ever happened. “Heyyy,” he slides in, ignoring the stares that continue to press onto him as he joins her in the shadow of the street shop. Each word is structured, and therefore they arrive stilted. “What’s...happening? What. Are ya. … … Heyyyy.”

…

She frowns at him with worry, answering his sorta question with a mindful gaze. “I was looking at these little guys.” His too-tense stare follows her point. All in a row there are several miniature animals upon this table, none longer than your pinky, made of clay and the finest love as they stare up with marble eyes. At least, that’s what the shopkeeper tells her.

A brow raises. “What? These things?” Hidan glances down at them again from the bridge of his nose, evaluating each like he’s missing something. “...Toys?”

“Figurines!” an all-too eager craftsman chimes in from behind the counter. The tone alone is enough to make Hidan lose all interest.

“Takara,” he asks, holding his forehead, “Can we forget the window shopping and get some fucking food?”

“Who said anything about window shopping?”

An indigo fin of hair ducks under the green awning to join them, a bloodthirsty grin on the swordsman's face. Hidan hardly manages a mumble before Kisame swoops in once again:

“Oh, fuck you—”

“Takara-hime," he interrupts, "Why don’t you pick your favorite? I’m sure you’ll give it a lovely home.”

Behind her back, a man that looks closer to a wizard than a real human being nods over and over in great, nearly frantic approval, though the traveler herself hums long and in the negative. “Oh, Kisame...I don’t really need anything like this…”

“Why yes, yes you do—!”

“Can you shut UP, old man!” Hidan spits.

“How rude,” Kisame notes, much like how one would when a dog not your own misbehaves. With pupils so small, it’s impossible to tell quick if he’s looking at her or today’s rival. “I don’t think it hurts to pick just one.”

The stars in her eyes grow bigger, and the reaper realizes this is a threat. Just as her mouth opens, Hidan beats her to it, brushing by and pressing every bill into his pocket onto the table in one smooth, instant motion, gifting the shopkeep with the best day of his goddamn life.

“All of them.”

Everyone has a moment of silence before clarity kicks in. The prize talks first:

“...Hidan, I don’t—”

“All. Of them,” he repeats. Purple locks directly onto small dots on a gilled face. Between them, folded hands pressed to the front of her mouth, the woman now can feel the electricity between them using her as the conduit. A few more seconds pass. She glances to the side. ...Wait.

“...Where did that shopkeeper go?”

Poignantly, the space where the seller was is empty, as is where Hidan’s entire month-long allowance was. All of the figurines remain, his new wealth. The traveler gets the strong feeling they just bought cursed artifacts and that she can hear cackling laughter in the wind.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

It doesn’t take a killer to murder

It only takes a reason to kill

We’ve all got evidence of innocence, it’s "everything’s coincidence"

The difference twixt fate and free will

Is whether you’re singing

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“Soooo?” Tobi opens, resting his cheek against his palm as the others seat themselves alongside his table. His plate is already empty, nothing but crumbs. Did they really take that long, she wonders…? He continues: “Did Takara-chan get the kitty statue?”

A thud sounds beside her chair, a sack cloth with the weight of a whole baby hitting the floor. “Yup. You could say that.” She doesn’t sound very happy about it, Hidan notes, mentally blaming anyone but himself for this. And this was all good fun, but Kisame has none more in him for this nonsense anymore, so instead of arguing, he brings up the menu to his face and reads.

Hidan watches intently as she leans over to look at the fish’s list instead of her own.

“What are you getting?” she whispers, to which Kisame shrugs.

“Haven’t decided yet.” A finger points at something Hidan can’t see, to which the woman hums. “I bet you’d like this. Yakisoba.”

“Oh! That sounds nice.”

“Why.” Hidan puts his fingertips over his eyelids and pulls them down, as if it’ll make him see things clearly again. She is not a goddamn helpless kid. “Are you letting him pick for you.”

“I just...haven’t really been to a place like this?” A nervous smile covers up the truth about her literacy— at least she hopes. This isn’t really the ideal time to inform Hidan about it.

“Then just find something that damn sounds good and go for it!”

“Oh. Well...��”

Right on cue, the waiter is there, looking down at her. Oh, the social pressures of a restaurant; she’s never done well with them, ordered many a meal she did not really want. With one word on her brain, she chooses it. “The...yakisoba. Please?”

When it arrives, Hidan scarfs his own food down as fast as he can and walks outside.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

So if you wash your hands of where you’ve been until you flood the second floor

Neatly fold your skeletons but still can’t shut the closet door

The only ones in need of love are those who don’t receive enough

So evil ones should get a little more

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“What’s your fucking problem!”

“My problem? You’re the one poising about like you can’t have eyes off of you for more than two seconds.”

“You’re the one that keeps butting in!”

“Oh? Really?”

“Yeah, really! You invited yourself to OUR fuckin’ dinner.”

The accusations are thrown back and forth over her as they are nearly done walking back home. For a while, her gaze follows like it’s a tennis match, but eventually the bouncing gets too sore on her eyeballs and she chooses to look at Tobi. This situation is exactly what she was worried about.

...Minus the large bag of figurine animals she did not ask for.

The clowns share a gaze for a moment, her emotions on full display while his are gloriously hidden. The male one sighs to himself. Oh, perhaps he can do her one favor. He thinks she could play along to well enough to let one slip in reality slide. A hand grips her shoulder while the other brings a finger to where his lips should be. The woman catches on, following his suit of stopping and remaining silent, so the others meander on ahead with their arguing.

“Close your eyes and I’ll take us through a shortcut.”

Okay.

Sure.

Why not.

She’s too tired to argue this.

Some minutes later, the two cloaked men have walked all the way back to the front porch without noticing they are no longer being followed, nor that the bag of her gifts is resting upon a chair.

“See, the difference between you and me— it’s that I was there BEFORE anyone was ordered to do shit. Stop pretending like you care. You fucking don’t!”

“And you let her live in filth?”

“I was fucking busy and she never complained and it was NOT that bad!”

“Your perception of reality is in the gutter.”

"Don't treat her like a baby, she's a grown woman and can make her own damn choices! Even saw her kill a guy with her own two hands!" And a world class triple bladed scythe, but Kisame wouldn't believe regardless.

"Now you're just being ridiculous. Are these the kind of lies you tell yourself?"

"Better than thinkin' she's some kind of space princess. The hell you call her that for, anyways? Princess!"

Oh, they’re still going at it. The performer laments this fact as she wanders out the door to the spot where this all started, her leaning against the railing outside of her home. A shortcut only silences the voices temporarily. She begins to see the only solution is oh so painfully in her hands:

“Can you guys stop?”

Acknowledge her, they do. Pause their statements, yes. But stop? Hell no.

“Takara, isn’t this just fucking WEIRD?” ...Oh god.

“Weird? I say that’s how you behave. There’s a reason you weren’t allowed alone with her.” Oh god. She has just made this all even worse.

“The hell do you mean by that?”

“Exactly what I said, cretin. The only reason you were sent on a mission was so she could be safe. Don’t you remember how we were proven right?”

She wants to crawl out of her own skin.

“OI! That was NOT me!”

“But did you stop it?”

“I—”

“Kisame!” the woman shouts from her raised position to the fighting men, much like a damsel does from her tower. She already explained this to him, that it was an accident. Why is he—?

The sound of her distress only pushes him onward. He has honor to protect. He tastes blood in the water. It twists his expression into something terrible, something Hidan is quickly starting to match with absolute abandon.

Talking is over. Milliseconds split whether Kisame draws his sword first or Hidan his scythe. The woman screams, and they don’t listen, so she has no choice but to throw herself forward until they do.

Both men tangibly feel the weight of their smiling lips drop as soon as she comes between them once again.

Shing-clink, THUMP.

Two stories over their heads fly a sword of scales and a scythe of blood, in a near instant hitting the earth. Both cling into the dirt like their ends were cut off and the flat edges glued where they landed, just absolutely, firmly in place, even as thick as Samehada is. Both animals have their jaws dropped and eyes wide, but not for the hunt. The sight that splits them is their bounty, a woman uninjured yet still twitching and flinching.

Looping around her over and over— around her waist, her raised arms, her heaving chest— are black, metallic threads. Kakuzu has never said her name like this, not since he gave it to her.

“TAKARA!”

It’s a mere split second she’s kept on the battlefield, immediately whipped backwards to stand beside him at the front door. She’s horrified as she looks upon him in this new, battle ready state, still on the brink of losing everything thanks to adrenaline and misunderstandings between her friends, and the bounty hunter decides it is the best time to teach her of her place.

“What are you thinking?” His volume is so much lower, and yet she’s even more intimidated. This is a goddamn nightmare. Her saviors nearly killed one another, and now here she is captured by something she can only describe as eldritch coming forth from another who she has come to trust. The threads wiggle around him; they're so dark and tinged with a glimmer that it's almost look like you took a pencil and scribbled onto the air itself. They writhe from his sleeves like worms. Gemstones bore into her.

And boy do they see every inch of her foolishness.

“You. Were mere inches from death.” His eyes will hurt later from glaring so hard, going without blinking so long. “Do you know a damn thing, girl? Do you know how so, very close you are to dying every moment you are alive in our presence? Do you KNOW?”

The threads don’t let go, but as he looms over her so much his shadow consumes all of her body, it’s one of the last things on her mind. The stitched doll is relentless. He had warned her. And he had given her proof to be afraid. It needs to be drilled into her empty skull. His voice raises:

“Can you not even THINK?!”

“KAKUZU!”

Though Kisame’s mouth had opened, it’s not his voice that speaks. Beside him, the swordsman sees Hidan seethe. His body is leaning forward, both fists clenched to his sides. Slowly, the same way a prisoner may drag their chains, green irises fall onto the silver haired man. There’s an expression about him, the way the muscles in his face twitch with effort to hold their position; it is more than just outrage…a bit of the same thing as the night of the meeting where it started to go wrong. And then into his ear, a little sound is made, as soft and small as a squeak from a mouse. The chains drag back, eyes finally seeing her again instead of just through her.

Helpless in his grasp, like a fly twirled into spiderweb, the performer can do nothing with her body but cry. She tries not to— because he is right— but no amount of biting your bottom lip and sniffing up the tears can keep the emotion away. In fact, it only makes it uglier. Hidan says his name again, more distant to Kakuzu’s spiraling mind, and the woman feels the bindings retract, piano wire slithering away like snakes. Kakuzu steps away, gawking at what he caused, the way she holds herself exactly in place as he had demanded of her. But others are here now, judging, and so panic sets in.

He can’t even manage an apology this time as he must walk away before it gets worse.

A third time Hidan says his partner’s name, and he runs right by her to chase him, to demand answers wherever the stitched man is going to hide. Kisame is the only one left now, a frown on his face. She looks so small on the stoop, frozen with sudden terrors and harsh words. Gently, he walks the gap, approaching her in such a way he may not frighten her any further than she already is. He manages to kneel in front of her, he on a lower step on the porch than she, and a ringed hand reaches out to touch—

“Kisame.”

The hand flinches back. The one who uses his cloak like a sling is in the doorway, staring him down. As the woman throws her freed palms over her face to hide fear and shame, Kisame can only wait to be given permission. He waits, so painfully he holds his breath and waits. He waits as Itachi walks to where they are. As he takes one hand off her face to hold. As she looks to him so very, very shakily for something to stabilize her after all this.

Permission will not be given this evening, and the Uchiha alone escorts the stranger to where she may calm down in peace. That bites more than any blade could cut Hoshigaki Kisame to the bone.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

You, could you take a look at me?

(You could break an angel’s fall, and ignore the Devil’s call)

Am I bad, am I bad, am I bad, am I really that bad?

(Still forsaken shoulders fall silent now)

Now we're singing

Ooh, whatever you think of me

(It’s no more than cultural, you and me inseparable.)

If the shoe fits would you walk that mile? You could put it on the other foot, it’s the same size

(It’s a small hell after all.)

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

An owl of the night is a poor singer of lullabies, its voice too low and its rhythm too disjointed, the woman convinces herself. No, certainly not the fact this isn't her own bed, not that she is in Itachi’s chosen room, the man himself seated in the corner. She glances from the window to the guardian whom moonlight swathes so generously, like if he could be drowned in the stars, perhaps the night may be able to drink him in. His eyes are closed. The stranger in a strange bed has her suspicions. Worried she had accidentally started a fight, an aching heart doesn't help her wondering if she's causing more problems.

“Itachi?” Hardly a whisper, hardly heard by her own self, and yet one lid cracks open. His eye is as dark as dark can be. Hands folded over the blanket and head propped up on pillows, the woman looks to him with worry. “We can switch if you’re having trouble sleeping.”

…

He considers not her offer but the words themselves. He will not be sleeping tonight. He hardly ever does. In the end, he opts to close his eye again instead of speak. Perhaps she will not press, and she may simply drift into her dreams.

The Uchiha should know better than that.

“Itachi?”

Eyelid flutters again to see her sitting on the edge of the mattress to face him. She’s the type that if someone else is upset, so is she. Please speak your troubles, dear, her aura calls to him. My burdens are not freed until I may carry yours.

What a predicament, since that is his job.

“...You should try to sleep, Miss Takara.” No matter how softly he speaks, she can only shake her head to that.

“I don’t want to be alone…” she restates, just as before when this predicament was arranged. “...But I don’t want to keep you from sleep, too. I’m okay,” she promises, seriousness weighing her head into a downward tilt. “I’m okay if I can’t sleep. I just don’t want to be alone.”

To have emptiness in a room would allow her imagination a stage for what it’d look like if someone really did get hurt today. The vacancy primes her mind for a shadow puppet show of corpses and blood spray upon the blank walls, the turbulence of the day’s events a tornado tearing it all apart.

What a dilemma the crow is tangled in. To reveal the truth of his insomnia is to put more upon a load he means to lighten…and yet here she is, unceasing all the same. Seconds pass. Time is allowed to bring forth the solution she wants to hear:

“...We can stay up together.”

And with the warmth that weary smile beams upon him, Itachi suddenly wouldn’t want anything more. But he has his mission, his sworn duty to her. He must refuse.

“...Another night, Miss Takara.”

The smile offered lightens but does not entirely fade, just as the moon does not disappear when merely a crescent in the sky. The man closes his eye again.

...And he hears her shuffle forward and sit down on the floor, right next to his chair, where she will remain until her body demands she finally fall sleep, whether she'd like to or not.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

You, could you take a look at me?

(Man no more than animal is made of moral chemicals)

Am I bad, am I bad, am I bad, am I really that bad?

(Any form mechanical, thank you God)

Ooh, whatever you think of me

(From the hordes of cannibals, to psych wards of hospitals)

If you were in my shoes, you’d see I wear the same size as you

(It’s a small world after all)

Oh oh right

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

#akatsuki x reader #kakuzu x reader #hidan x reader #kisame x reader #itachi x reader #tobi is once again here but not enough to justify the x reader tag #songfic #aswtn fic

11 notes · View notes

multistanisms · 8 months ago

Text

Loving the Enemy | Final Fantasy VII

FANDOM: Final Fantasy VII

PAIRING: Cloud Strife x Reno Akujin

WORD COUNT: 1331

RATING: PG-13

POTENTIAL TRIGGERS: Mentions of violence, sex, torture, etc

SUMMARY: The very first Ten Song Challenge I ever wrote. The music player is set on shuffle and the first ten songs that play? You write a quick mini-fic based on it, so it’s basically quick glimpses into the relationship. The ship for this was Reno and Cloud from Final Fantasy VII.

☼ ☽ ☆ ⁑ ☼ ☽ ☆ ⁑ ☼ ☽ ☆ ⁑ ☼ ☽ ☆ ⁑ ☼ ☽ ☆ ⁑

D is for Dangerous – Allison Iraheta

Reno knew how risky it was being in love with "the enemy". But was it really an enemy at all? Shin-Ra had technically tried to destroy the world, and now what had once been the enemy was a reluctant ally. He watched the blonde quietly from the chopper, unable to understand what had really brought AVALANCHE and his company together for a battle. It didn't seem very plausible that having asked Cloud had worked. Or had it? Reno had called Cloud days ago and talked to the blonde. Was he the only one the former Shin-Ra spoke to anymore?

Toxic – Britney Spears

Cloud had been surprised when he'd answered his phone. It had been by chance that he had even seen the redhead calling. Why had he picked up? Because he wanted to talk to someone was highly unlikely. Perhaps he had been curious? But that didn't make sense, either. He knew why he'd answered, but he wasn't willing to admit it. He had needed to hear that voice again. He hadn't heard it since deserting the company, save the few occasions Reno had "lost him" during raids on the compound. How the cocky bastard was still second-in-command, he wasn't sure, but he was glad the red haired man had some connections to his former alliance; it made it much easier to hide his emotions.

Sweet Emotion – Aerosmith

Sooooo….nothing at all. FAIL!

Sleep – My Chemical Romance

Reno sat up as he gasped for air, one hand instinctively going to his neck, where he'd been choked just a week prior during his last day as a captive in the Wutai army. Somehow, Tseng had managed to offer something to the king that had made them let him go, but he was still having nightmares. It was thoroughly irritating. He glanced at the window, wondering if Cloud was watching the sky; like he used to at night during his stay at Shin-Ra. "I'm not wishin or nuttin like that, but I wonder if you still care, blondie…" he murmured.

"Then ask me," a soft voice said. At first, Reno thought he'd imagined the voice, but he turned his head to the door of his room and was surprised to see Cloud hidden in the shadow of the door.

BulletProof – La Roux

Reno knew he had made mistakes. He couldn't count how many times he'd said something or done something ridiculous just to get Cloud's attention. But he had never thought of falling for the blonde. It sucked. He wanted so bad to be with the former SOLDIER now…but it was no use. His walls were still heavily guarded from the last time he'd been shot in the heart. And he meant that literally. He still had the scar from where Tseng had pulled him from the gutters to prove it. It really ticked him off as he sat watching Cloud from afar; surveying. He was actually supposed to be making sure Rufus' hotel accommodations were correct, but Rufus had already seen to that. Reno just had to get back before Tseng did. And even if he didn't Rufus could use the time alone with the Wutainian man; to loosen the stick that was shoved up his ass so hard. He smirked as Cloud walked along the edge of the church, wondering where the blonde was going now.

She Loves Me Not – Papa Roach

WTF IS THIS? SO NOT COOL! DX

Down the Rabbit Hole – Adam Lambert

Was it possible to fall so deeply in love with a man because of how he danced? Once upon a time, Cloud would have said no reverently. Now? Uh, not so much. He sat, intoxicated, as he watched the redhead sway so expertly on the dance floor. It was slightly scary, but so amazing, that Reno could dance so well. Were there lessons involved? Had to be. That…or he really had been a stripper once upon a time. Cloud chuckled at that thought. 'Once upon a time, a fiery redhead named Reno danced for men and women while taking his clothes off to the sound of Adam Lambert's "Strut". But that thought couldn't be far off the mark, Cloud pondered. His current train of thought was broken as Reno plopped in his lap and began a special, free lap dance.

Another Day – from "Rent"

Reno stared at the blonde in shock. He'd been denied. But..why? What had he done? He couldn't think of anything. So he stood from where the blonde had shoved hi and moved to sit on the coffee table in front of the rogue. "Hey, babe. Come on. Live for today."

Cloud glared. "That line may have worked back then, Reno, but it won't anymore." He half growled.

Reno blinked. "Blondie, may I ask what the fuck you are talking about?" he asked. "You know that's how we live."

Cloud scoffed. "More like how you live. I don't wanna do it anymore." He said, crossing his arms. "I saw you with him."

Reno stared. "Who, Rufus?" he inquired. Seeing the flash of anger in baby blues, he sighed. "Yo, Cloud, babe. Rufus is just a really good friend. He was the only one who believed in me when Shin-Ra took me in." When he got no response, he sighed and stood. "Fine. I'm done trying to prove myself." And he slammed the door.

Rolling in the Deep – Adele

Cloud sat in the dark of his room, staring at an old photo. It made his heart race to watch the moon shimmer on the photo of the male, but he knew it wouldn't match the memory of the moonlight on the fiery tresses. He gave a sigh. He had to do something; sitting around and moping would not have helped. But what could he do? He'd heard several stories about what Reno had been up to since he had denied the redhead his feelings. Maybe he should go the low road and go back? Or…maybe he should just wait? He groaned and grabbed handfuls of hair as he rocked a bit. "I wish I knew what to do…" he murmured.

"Just admit your feelings, Cloud. Look back at everything. Focus this time. Think."

Cloud blinked. Aerith had always known what to say. He gave a sad smile. "It's kind of sad that you're still helping me after I let you die." He mumbled, but laid back on his bed and closed his eyes. With a few deep breaths, he began to travel down memory lane and focus on each one; his actions, reactions, thoughts and lack thereof. And as he watched, he became aware of what had always been there.

Better Than I Know Myself – Adam Lambert

Cloud sat up and had to wipe away tears. He growled, angry at himself, and reached over to grab his phone. He needed to make sure Reno knew that he was serious. And if that meant Cloud would have to drag him out of a bar and screw him in an alley, he would. He called feverishly, leaving some 80 voicemails; that was until he had filled the voicemail inbox. Then he began texting; trying to get the redhead to answer. "Damnit, Reno, answer." He said, the only thought being that he had lost the one thing that had kept him grounded for so damn long. He had plopped on the bed, tears brimming usually clear eyes, when the door burst open and a panting redheaded Turk stood before him. Cloud jumped at the sight and stared next. "Reno…"

"You okay, blondie?" the male asked, rushing over to check him out and make sure no marks were present. "Good, no harm." He sighed, relieved, and then threw himself into Cloud's arms. "I'm sorry, Cloud."

"Just…just don't go, Reno." Cloud managed, holding the other tight. "Promise."

"Gladly," the Turk replied, grinning as he pulled the male close.

#Ten Song Challenge Series #making a fantasy…a beautiful galaxy ✾ my fics #final fantasy vii #Final fantasy vii fanfiction #Cloud x reno #Reno x Cloud #this is what we call style ✭ queue

2 notes · View notes

crimsonkenjii-writes · 2 years ago

Text

Writing a Nanami fluff based off these prompts I found cuz it just seemed way too cute. And I could literally see gojo and nanami going back and forth about this lmaoo

Nanami Kento x Gn!Reader

Synopsis: Nanami Kento takes his job too seriously. He doesn’t like to bring emotions or any personal matters into work. However, his coworker, Gojo Satoru, it tired of seeing him in denial, wasting his opportunity to just be with you already.

── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ.───

“Alright. I think that’s everything. I should go file these away now.�� You chimed as you collected the last few papers from you’re coworker, Nanami.

“You don’t have to do those you know. I could do it for you. You shouldn’t take on more of a workload than you need to.” He says gently.

“Are you questioning my ability to handle my own job, Kento?” You tease him, a small smile on your face. Nanami quickly becomes flustered, worried he offended you. Scrambling over his words to try and fix his mistake. Make it more clear about what he intended.

You laugh at him, placing a hand on his chest as reassurance. “I’m joking, Kento. Thank you for the offer but I got this. Plus, you’re no longer a business man, right? Wouldn’t want you filing paper work again. Could bring back nightmares.” You tease once more, giving his chest a small pat.

Nanami hoped you couldn’t feel his heart about to beat out of his chest. Your presence alone was enough to make his stomach a swarm of butterflies. But your laugh, god your laugh. It was enough to give him a heart attack right on the spot. How much smaller your hand felt in comparison to his chest. The fact that you felt so comfortable to touch him to begin with. You were driving him mad.

“Alright see you two later!” You call out, waving your hand goodbye as you twirl on your heel to make your way back into the building to deal with the reports of your latest mission.

Two? Who was two? Nanami questioned to himself. He was so entranced by you that he’d forgotten that Gojo was also there. His body becomes rigid again, finally remembering that his coworker was there the entire time to witness all that. Hopefully that blindfold of his actually partially blinded him.

Gojo, however, had witnessed it all. But it barely fazed him at this point. He was more agitated than anything. He’s been watching his two coworkers practically flirt on the down-low for how long now? He’s lost count! But he was tired of seeing it and nothing happening. A slick smile stretching across his face as he couldn’t help but think of a way to irritate his favorite coworker.

“If there’s nothing going on there, you don’t mind if I ask Y/N out, do you?” Gojo holds back his laughter.

Nanami is quick to turn to the white haired man and give him a glare.

“No.” Nanami says sternly. His emotions getting the better of him. He instantly regretted it, knowing this had practically exposed him.

“Ah, so there is something going on?” He further teases.

“There isn’t.” Nanami says sternly once again, his arms folding over his chest. “We’re just…. Coworkers.”

“Coworkers,” Gojo mocks, “Don’t look at each other that way.”

Nanami freezes for a bit. He was embarrassed that Gojo was able to see how you both looked at each other. Of course, Nanami always denied it. He refused to believe that the look in your eyes when you saw him was genuine. The way your eyes would always light up when you would absentmindedly turn your head and catch a glimpse of him. The way you couldn’t break eye contact with him even if you tried, hanging on to every word that came out of his mouth. Even if it was all about work, you always seemed so sucked into him. Not wanting to deviate you’re attention elsewhere. Because if you did, you feared he might lose his interest as well.

Gojo snickers to himself, finding it funny to see how silent the blonde man went after his statement. Gojo could clearly see the gears turning in Nanami’s head.

“You’re in denial.” Gojo sings out, clearly wanting to tease Nanami some more.

“I’m not in denial!” Nanami quickly snaps back. Feeling his cheeks starting to burn and his heart pumping fast in his chest. He goes to adjust his glasses to try and hide his blush.

Gojo laughs once more, “You’re so full of shit. Come on! You’re in love with them!” He draped his arm across Nanami’s shoulders and pats his chest with his other free hand.

Nanami keeps his arms crossed, looking straight forward as he recollects himself. Managing to get his pesky emotions in check again.

“It’s easy to confuse feelings for something they aren’t. We just care for each other as coworkers. Possibly friends. But either way, we have a risky job. It’s just normal to care for your coworkers when one day everything could go south. It’s platonic. All the way. Nothing more. Don’t pester me about it.” Nanami starts to lose his cool again towards the end of his ramble.

He often thought about that. How you both do have a dangerous job. One day a mission could go horribly wrong. And in the worst case scnerio, the last thing he’d be able to do with you is file away your name into a forbidden cabinet forever. And live the rest of his life in regret that he never was able to tell you how crazy you made him. How he could never stop thinking about you. How he loved the way you looked up at him when he called your name. How easily your name slips from his mouth, leaving the sweetest taste behind. How desperately he just wanted to hold you in his arms and fall asleep with you like that, just to sleep in the next morning and wake up with you still next to him. Your hair messy from tossing and turning in your sleep but no matter how “unflattering” you would say you look in the morning he personally could never get enough of it.

“God, just, put us all out of our misery and admit it already.” Gojo groaned, his hands deep in his pockets, throwing his head back in defeat. Nanami was in so much denial it was now physically painful to watch.

“Us?” Nanami questions, raising an eyebrow.

“Uh, yeah! You two are so obvious! It’s clear to everyone that you both are absolutely head over heels for each other. It doesn’t take an idiot to figure it out. Kind of giving me a headache at this point with nothing happening about it.” Gojo exclaims.

“You’re calling me an idiot?”

“If you still think that you don’t have feeling for Y/N, then yeah, absolutely.”

Nanami knew he couldn’t deny it anymore. He knew everyone could see right through him. He hated how transparent he was being but you just had that affect on him. It was hard being able to control himself around you. He felt like a stupid teenager again. Not being able to control himself around his silly little crush. Blushing like an idiot anytime you teased him or called out his name from your sweet lips. His palms getting sweaty every time you were in his presence because you made his heart pump that fast that he’d get so nervous he would start to sweat.

Nanami lets out a sigh of defeat. He looked at the ground. His mind still racking with what he should do. He didn’t want to be unprofessional and date a coworker. But he also knew that that was bullshit. Dating a coworker couldn’t go that haywire as media likes to put it, right? And he knew you both were smart. He knew your feelings for each other wouldn’t affect work. Nanami believed in you to remain professional, even if you were to give him a quick goodbye kiss before either of you left for a mission.

Gojo grabs Nanami’s shoulder and turns him to be facing one another.

“Look me in the eyes, and tell me you don’t feel something for Y/N.” His blindfold still securely on his face. Nanami furrows his brows, knowing Gojo is being an idiot on purpose now.

“Your blindfold is on, idiot. I can’t look you in the eyes.”

“Exactly!” Gojo exclaims, “Can’t look me in the eyes, can’t tell me you don’t like Y/N, which means you totally do!NowDoSomethingAboutIt!!!” He says quickly at the end, both of his hand gripping Nanami’s shoulders as he shakes him.

Nanami swats Gojo’s hand off his shoulders as he lets out another heavy sigh. He was no longer in denial about his own feelings, but he was still skeptical of yours. What if he had some kind of filter on you that made him think you liked him back? A filter making him believe that everything you did was an act of love because that’s what he wanted to believe. That’s what he wanted from you because of his stupid little crush on you. Nanami didn’t want to risk making things awkward between the two of you. Even if you two were only friends for the rest of your lives, at least he’d still have you in his life. He didn’t want to risk it.

“Y/N’s everything to me. Everything I ever wanted,” he sighs again, now looking at his coworker, “I don’t want to risk losing them as a friend.”

Gojo could see the pain and conflict in Nanami’s face. He voice lowering and becoming more serious. “You really don’t see it, do you? You know that’s not the case. Y/N adores you.” He places a hand on Nanami’s shoulder once more. Slightly squeezing it as reassurance. Gojo was always goofy, but he knew when to be serious. He knew that this could be a lot on Nanami. Gojo wanted to make sure that Nanami knew that he had his back. He would never set up his friend for failure like that.

“Opening up, and being vulnerable about your feelings can be extremely hard, I get that, Nanami. I understand the worries that you have. But trust me, it hurts far more worse to have never told that person how you truly felt about them. To live the rest of your life thinking that maybe something could have happened. A relationship could have been there in place of the stupid euphoric jitters you get of being near your crush. Yeah, there’s no guarantee of the future. But stressing over it makes it worse. Because then you’ll get stuck in the past of what you could have done better. We’re only given once chance during present time, so we always got to make it count. And if you don’t go into that building, right now, and tell Y/N how you feel. You will regret it.”

Nanami was moved by Gojo’s words. He’s never seen him more serious before. He looks down and gives a slight nod. “Thank you…” he says quietly, almost inaudible. Gojo smiles and pats the blonde’s shoulder. Nanami starts to run towards the building you had disappeared into earlier.

Nanami runs up the steps, hoping you hadn’t gone home yet. He needed to catch you right here and right now.

You had just finished filing away the paperwork and were now walking down the hallway, thinking about what you could have for dinner.

Heavy footsteps quickly making their way up the stairs as you were still stuck in your thoughts. You turn to start to making your way down the stairs when you almost collide with someone else.

“Oh!” You exclaim as you stumble back. “I’m so sorry!” You chime out, apologizing to whomever you almost crashed in to.

“Y/N… you’re still here…” Nanami lets out between small breathes.

“Oh! Kento! It’s you!” You say happily. Butterflies starting to flutter in your stomach and chest.

“I… I need to tell you something…” Nanami lets out quietly. His ears and cheeks burning as he grew more and more nervous.

He steps up the stairs so that he’s on the same floor as you. Standing extremely close as he looks down at you. You look up at him, wondering what he wanted to talk about. His arms twitch at his sides, holding back the urge to hold you in his embrace.

He removes his glasses and stows them away into his pockets as he starts to stumble over his words. He brings his hand to the back of his neck to try and soothe his nerves.

“I’ve just been thinking lately... Um…I’m struggling to find the words…” he scoffs to himself, smiling slightly, embarrassed with how shy he was acting. His eyes avoiding your gaze.

“It’s alright…” you let out quietly. “I’m not in a rush. I want to hear what you have to say.”

Nanami’s heart flutters. He loves how patient you always were, especially with him.

“Do you think that this, us…” he talks quietly, now bold enough to meet your gaze, “do you think that it could be something more?”

You were taken aback. You couldn’t believe what you were hearing. He confessed right now, right? Just now? That was a confession? Your crush just asked you to be… more??

“More…” you repeated back in a daze. “Like… more than friends? As in… date…?”

Nanami started to grow more nervous. This wasn’t a rejection was it?

“Yes…” he nods. “I think I’m falling in love with you…” without thinking, his hands are drawn to you. His larger hand holds onto your arm as the other pushes aside stray hairs to cup your face. His face getting dangerously close to yours.

“In love with me…?” You repeat again, your eyes now locked on his lips.

“Very much…” he whispers back, his warm breath touching your burning cheeks.

Your hands slide up his chest as you feel your heart racing. How long it was taking him to just kiss you already felt like a painful tease. Your hands continue to glide up Nanami, finally reaching around his neck and into his hair.

“God, just kiss me already…” you let out barely above a whisper, moving yourself closer into him so you could close the space between your lips. Both melting into the warm embrace of each other. Sparks starting in your lips and traveling to the rest of your body. It felt like sparks and butterflies in your head, taking over any coherent thoughts. Nanami’s strong arms take hold of you even tighter, deepening the kiss. You both release with a smack as you both let out small heaves of breath.

He moves hair out of your face again as his thumb gently glide against your cheek. A wide smile stretching across his face and nothing but adoration in his eyes. He starts to laugh a little, getting shy once more. Nanami tucks his head into your shoulder to hide his goofy smile and embarrassing blush as you laugh along with him.

“I was making plans for dinner if you wanted to join me…” you say softly. Nanami places an innocent kiss on your neck, “I would love to…”

#jjk x reader #nanami x reader #nanami kento x y/n #nanami kento fluff #nanami x y/n #nanami x you #jjk fluff #jjk imagines #kento nanami x reader

456 notes · View notes

softiejoon · 2 years ago

Text

I LIKE IT WHEN YOU SLEEP FOR YOU ARE SO BEAUTIFUL YET SO UNAWARE OF IT | SKZ REACTION

pairing ; skz x reader

genre ; fluff, humour/crack, hurt/comfort

tags ; established relationship!au, domestic!au, idol!skz

warnings ; mention of nightmares (seungmin & jeongin's parts; no descriptions), allusion to insomnia (jeongin's part), joking use of ‘creep’

summary ; you catch skz watching you sleep

word count ; 2k

a/n ; a little bit of angst in jeongin’s part but otherwise mostly fluff!! hope you enjoy <33

if you like my work, please consider supporting me ☕️

.・゜-: ‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾　✧　☽༓･*˚⁺‧͙ :-゜・．

bang chan

morning light filters in and you crack an eye open, feeling the warmth of both the sun's gaze and another's on your face.

"hi," you whisper, voice croaky with sleep.

"morning, baby." he smiles, all the way to his eyes.

perhaps it wasn't the sun you felt at all, basking in the glow of his presence. the bubbling in your chest swells at the sight of his mussed curls, the grin he wears as he looks on you lovingly.

chan pulls you into his chest, pressing his nose to the crown of your head to drink in not just the sight of you, but your scent and the feel of your body, your heart, close to his.

"why didn't you wake me up?" you ask around a yawn. time with him is so precious, so sacred.

he smiles again. "you looked so peaceful." his words and gaze are soft.

amidst the late nights, chan can't remember the last time he glimpsed your figure traced by the morning light, and his chest tightens a little at the realisation of how much he's missed this.

the brief train of thought is interrupted by your movement as you snuggle further into him, slipping into another bout of comfortable slumber. chan tilts his head to observe you as you lay on his chest, burying your face into his shirt, and he can't help but hold that smile.

he'll simply have to make a habit out of early mornings with you.

☾ ･*˚⁺‧͙ :-゜・．

minho

"finally up?"

you force your eyes open only to be met with minho's half-smirk, head propped up on one hand as he regards you with amusement.

you make an unintelligible noise, not quite lulled from your subconscious state. minho takes it as a sign of confusion and, in his kindness, clarifies for your understanding.

"you were taking so long to wake up, i nearly went to get coffee."

you groan, shutting your eyes once more.

"why are you watching me sleep? don't you have anything better to do?"

he scoffs, answering your questions with one of his own. "who asked you to sleep so long, hm? i wouldn't need to watch you if you woke up earlier."

the soft snicker that follows his response elicits a noncommittal huff on your part.

"it's too early for this; leave me alone."

you roll over, enlisting a pillow to block out the sounds of minho's teasing. which works, for all of two seconds, before you feel the mattress shift in his unrelenting mission to disturb you.

"yah, if you're gonna sleep," he complains, wrapping himself around you from the back, "at least face me so i have something to look at."

☾ ･*˚⁺‧͙ :-゜・．

changbin

you squint, one eye half-closed, at changbin's steadily reddening face.

"how often do you watch me sleep?"

"what? i don't!" he protests, entirely too quickly for someone who claims to do no such thing.

you laugh, closing your eyes as you picture changbin scrambling for an excuse, a hastily pieced-together explanation for having been caught in the act. it's as if he's a ticking time bomb, desperate to prove you wrong, and you count down the seconds in your head till he erupts into panic, 3, 2, 1.

"yah, i-i just woke up okay! and—i thought i saw something in your hair so i was just making sure, okay?" he sputters as you raise a brow at him, enjoying this too much.

"mhm, sure." you nod with sage-like understanding. "so, did you find anything in my hair?"

"huh?" changbin looks ready to combust, and you've assumed it's the embarrassment that is inhibiting his ability to process your words.

you chuckle when realisation strikes him across the face and he fumbles with another poorly constructed answer. your hand reaches out to cup his cheek, halting the rambling.

"it's okay, binnie," you murmur, unable to help the soft smile that crosses your face. "i think it's cute."

he relaxes visibly at your words.

"plus," you add, "sometimes i do it too."

"wah, you creep!"

☾ ･*˚⁺‧͙ :-゜・．

hyunjin

"ah!" your surprised cry doesn't startle hyunjin, nor does the instinctive jerk away from the pair of dark eyes watching you intently. as your pulse returns to a normal rate, you mumble his name, "hyun?"

"hm?"

"are you okay?"

unblinking, hyunjin nods, then adjusts his position for a slightly different angle, as if nothing about studying your face is out of the ordinary. he seems faraway in thought, eyes glazed over as if in a dream.

you shift closer to him, curling an arm around his torso. his eyes trail along the planes of your nose, your lips, cheeks and jaw.

"where are your thoughts taking you?" you ask.

he shakes his head absentmindedly. "just thinking about you."

"oh."

his eyes reconnect with yours, curving along with a familiar but rare smile – one that only follows a satisfaction with his art.

"done," he announces, gaze returning to its usual quality and presence.

"what is?"

despite all the unabashed staring, hyunjin seems almost shy now.

"i wanted to be able to draw you from memory..." he scratches the back of his neck. "there were some features i could never quite get right, but i think i've got it now."

your hand travels to cradle his jaw, the pad of your thumb touching the corner of the sheepish smile on his lips.

"how long have you been doing this?" you giggle, face warm.

"i don't know." hyunjin leans in to close the space between you. "i think i could spend forever looking at you."

☾ ･*˚⁺‧͙ :-゜・．

jisung

there is barely time to register the blur that is han jisung as he leaps from the bed and scrambles into the ensuite bathroom.

"i wasn't staring!"

"ji...?" you slur, still half-asleep. "what are you doing?" you ask, when he doesn't respond after a beat.

"nothing!" he squeaks out from the bathroom, refusing to emerge.

you rub your eyes, finally gaining some clarity in your vision and the unfolding situation. "oh, are you embarrassed because you were watching me sleep?"

"no!" comes the yell of denial from the bathroom.

you chuckle, shaking your head as you slip out of the covers and pad towards his hiding spot.

you knock on the bathroom door, putting on a sing-song voice, "c'mon ji, open upp!"

after a few seconds, the door swings open, revealing the heavy pout on his face and flushed cheeks.

"aww baby, don't be embarrassed. i think it's sweet," you coo.

he gives a halfhearted attempt at avoiding your fussing, before allowing you to wrap your arms around him and plant a kiss on his nose.

"you really think i'm that interesting even when i'm asleep?" you tease.

he sighs, nuzzling his face against your neck. "i think you're the most fascinating person in the world."

☾ ･*˚⁺‧͙ :-゜・．

felix

the beam you're greeted with as you open your eyes is almost as radiant as the sun.

"hi, angel."

you smile sleepily as he places a soft kiss to your cheek.

"hi, lixie."

"sleep well?" he murmurs, shifting from his previous position of observation to curl himself around you. the words fall onto your skin as he settles into the crook of your neck, your very own waking dream.

you hum, fingers moving to tangle themselves in his hair, the silky strands illuminated by sunlight. your fingers lightly massage his scalp, just the way he likes, enjoying the comfort and warmth of the embrace.

"you look so pretty when you sleep," felix mumbles against your skin.

"i bet you're even prettier," you whisper back, sifting the soft locks through your fingers.

"nuh-uh," he counters, voice sleepy and muffled as his breath tickles your skin.

you can't help but look down at him, with pure love in your eyes and a wide grin on your face.

"yuh-huh." you giggle and felix joins in, unable to contain himself at the joy of your laughter.

he raises himself up, leaving light kisses in his wake, until his forehead rests gently against yours.

in the morning light, felix has never been more sure of your angelic nature.

"you'll always be the most beautiful – asleep or awake."

☾ ･*˚⁺‧͙ :-゜・．

seungmin

"puppy!"

you lay a hand on your thrumming chest, looking back at seungmin, who maintains his watchful gaze, unfazed by your reaction.

"what were you doing...?" you ask, unable to discern the direction of his thoughts.

"watching you," he replies, to which you shoot him a wry smile.

"yeah, i figured that much. why?"

seungmin blinks. "you were having some nightmares earlier. i thought it'd be better if i woke you up before it happened again."

your heart caves at that, softening into a molten puddle as the intention behind his words register. seungmin's expression remains unchanged, as if serving as your personal protector were a daily task. and perhaps it was.

you attempt to resist the smile, but your cheeks warm as you return his gaze.

"you know," you say softly, "you don't have to do that, pup."

he cocks his head at your words, never failing to live up to his namesake. "who else will?"

if seungmin notices the intense fondness in your eyes, he doesn't comment on it.

"i want you to get some sleep too."

"but i'm your guard dog."

you release a small chuckle. "oh yeah?"

"yeah," he affirms, grin wide. "woof woof."

with a quiet laugh, you slip closer to wrap your arms around him, cradling his face centimetres from yours.

"i've got the cutest puppy ever," you murmur.

"guard dog," he corrects, shielding your lips with his own.

☾ ･*˚⁺‧͙ :-゜・．

jeongin

sometime around two in the morning, you are awoken by a desperate need to pee.

your eyes lift a sliver, allowing you to pull back the covers and slide out from beneath them. as you begin to toddle your way to the bathroom, a panicked voice calls your name.

"innie?" you whisper back.

jeongin's shadowed frame, small in the dark of the room, reaches for you.

"d-don't go." there's a crack in his words as he adds, "please?"

you inch towards him, stretching your hand out to take his. "what's wrong, darling? did i wake you?"

he shakes his head in halting movements. you hear him swallow.

"i—can you stay with me, please?"

you squeeze his hand, bringing the other one up to stroke his cheek.

"i will, baby. i just need to go to the bathroom first, okay?" you place a soft kiss to his cheek. "i'll be right back." but, as you pull away, jeongin's hand refuses to release yours.

"in—?"

he tugs on your entwined fingers, looking down at them. "can i...come?"

the shy pout is evident in his voice, as well as his lingering unease.

you give a small nod of your head. it would be heartless to deny him.

the moment he hears the flush of the toilet, jeongin opens the door, flooding the space with the bathroom's light. you jump, slightly startled, while jeongin simply watches you wash your hands.

you turn to dry them, while concealing the small smile of endearment. when your gaze returns to jeongin, his remains unmoved, as if afraid you might vanish right before his eyes.

"okay, darling." your voice is soft as you step towards him. "what's the matter?"

jeongin fidgets with the loose threads on his sleeves, a moment of silence falling between you. eventually, he mumbles, "couldn't sleep..."

worry knits your brows. "did you have a nightmare?"

he shakes his head. "it's just—you'll think i'm weird." you take his hand to reassure him, and encourage him to continue. "watching you helps sometimes," he admits.

"when i'm asleep?"

jeongin scratches the back of his neck and nods. "knowing you're there makes me feel safe."

you smile softly at him, cupping his face with your free hand. "i'll always be here, darling."

jeongin relaxes into your touch, nudging himself closer into your embrace.

"what do you say we go back to bed, hm? this time, let me watch over you."

286 notes · View notes

parkerpeter24 · 2 years ago

Text

saturday, 4 am

pairing ➳ peter parker x reader

w.c. ➳ 0.5k

warnings ➳ angst. so much and only angst.

summary ➳ it’s a saturday night. a 4 am conversation with peter, but it’s not what you think.

a/n ➳ i was contemplating not posting this honestly but when i decided that i did wanna post it, i wanted it to be so misleading <3 do not hate me, and enjoy reading! i wrote this for tasm!peter basically but it would work with any peter tbh!

you’re a little shaken by how it begins but you are holding up pretty well. you’d even considered complimenting yourself for not falling to your knees or screaming your lungs out until the muscles in your throat give in.

you never wanted to confront peter about such a topic but to your horror, the nightmares were all coming true. you thought about it all the time, and it wasn’t an exaggeration of it. now it had become true and all you can do is keep your eyes to the ground as peter tells you the whole story.

“y-you know i was really not myself after... the incident.” he mutters out, still not being able to talk about the death of his uncle, an event from seven months ago. it was understandable. uncle ben was like a father to him and when he died, you noticed peter starting to drift away from you. at first, you tried to be next to him at every time possible. whenever he refused to leave his room, whenever he refused to have food or water, you tried to always help him through his grief but when he specifically asked you to leave him alone for some time, you understood and gave him his space to mourn.

“yeah.” you simply reply, nails pulling restlessly at the sleeve of your sweatshirt, which was originally supposed to be his. you so want to be done with this conversation and are convinced he wanted it much more than you. but if so, he isn’t really making a move to cut it short.

“and gwen was there for me and i.. i just don’t know how to explain but-”

you clear your throat, cutting peter’s sentence short, “i get it.”

“wait, r-really? you do?” peter looks at you, his gaze never really had left your figure in fact, with such soft eyes as if you’d break if he stared any harder.

you nodded, “gwen was there and i wasn't.”

“what, n-no, no, no, that’s not what i meant at all, (y/n) you have always been there and i-”

“clearly, i wasn’t there enough.” you gulp, looking past his shoulder as his hazel eyes finally catch a glimpse of your tear filled ones and another layer of guilt embraces him.

“please, (y/n), it’s not your fault.” peter pleads, eyes swimming with concern, not wanting to leave you alone because of the fear that he might not be able to see you ever again. not like he did till now anyway. he didn’t wanna lose you and even after everything he’s done, a part of him is still infatuated with the idea that you might wanna stay friends.

“you should go, peter.” you juxtapose his thoughts.

“please, please let’s talk about it.” peter finds himself reasoning with you, standing his ground somehow with the way his legs are shaking.

“i wanna be alone.” you whisper. peter caught it obviously, with the super-hearing and whatnot. sometimes he wished he could have mind reading as his power so instead of hearing everything you said, he would just hear everything you meant. as if that would have made this situation better.

your words finally register as peter nods his head and clutches his bag tighter around his shoulders. with heavy steps, he finally leaves your room, shutting the door behind him and even though you make sure to wait a good ten minutes before you let yourself sob out, peter still hears you from outside your window.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

taglist | masterlist

@httphollands @the-girl-in-the-chair @spideyspeaches @prancerrparkerr @usergarfields @theglitterymess @quaksonhehe @lowkey-holland @starlight-starks @piscesparker @incorrectsourwolf @wildxwidow @blankspaceblankday @raajali3 @kelieah @arvinsvintage @parkersdahlia @icarusafety @uwiuwi @tommyfroggie @saturnpeter @ellabellabus07 @comfort-reads @holland-styles @glowunderthemoon (sorry not sorry fay <3)

#peter parker #peter parker fanfiction #peter parker imagine #tasm!peter fanfiction #tasm!peter parker #tasm!peter x reader #tasm!peter x y/n #peter parker angst

162 notes · View notes

nvvermore · 4 years ago

Text

Red Like Roses

The Fool’s nightmare

[part one of Come What May]

words: 1.5k

cw: nightmares; drowning, descriptions of injury and illness, death, plague era

accompaniment

-☽☼☾-

Amaryllis is on a beach. They’ve never been on this beach before, but they’ve seen it, they know it.

Their feet are bare, toes dragging through the sand as they walk. It’s dark out— or maybe it’s just the accumulation of smoke and ash in the air— but when they look down they can still see the blood red that stains their fingertips and snakes up their arms.

It feels like it should hurt, that something should hurt. But nothing does. They wonder if it’s due to the pounding they don’t feel when they place their hand over their heart.

But, they suppose that’s what makes this just a dream.

The dream is the same, but different each time. The same beach, the same somber lullaby being sung in the distance. They aren’t the one currently singing it, they don’t know the song, but it's their voice.

And there’s always someone else there, someone they can’t ever seem to save.

Sometimes it’s Ophélie in the water, begging them to join her for a swim, but whenever Amaryllis tries to get in the water the waves grow and crash against the shore until her giggles turn into screams and she’s lost. Sometimes it's Vesper, beneath them, screaming and covered in burns and blood that isn’t his, begging for forgiveness— for what exactly, he never discloses.

More often, it’s Asra. Sometimes, he’s just too far for them to reach. But they see him, just a little ways off, digging with his hands in the sand. Screaming their name, his tears mingling with ash and dirt and blood. He looks in their direction, but he never sees them. Other times, they do get to him, and all seems well until suddenly they start fighting, screaming at each other. They can’t make out what he’s saying, and they don’t know what’s coming out of their mouth, but his tears say more than enough.

There’s people they don’t know, too. At least, people they don’t know anymore, names and faces on the tip of their tongue that they can never seem to recall, even though there’s something that screams at them to remember.

Sometimes there's a woman. She radiates desperation and hopelessness, and Amaryllis always finds themself crying blood-stained tears for her. There's someone they know they’re supposed to know, digging away in the sand. It’s a different type of forget than the others, but they can’t remember him— he doesn’t want them to. A man, with the same red markings as theirs, who begs them not to leave, who begs them for just one more song. There’s an older woman, who holds them and shushes them and tells them it’s going to be okay, but when Amaryllis glances up in an effort to know who she is, they only catch a glimpse of blood red sclera before she vanishes.

And then there’s the man who’s shown up now.

He’s the one Amaryllis sees most often, more than Asra. And yet, they have no name for him.

When he takes off his mask, his eyes are red. When he drops his gloves, his hands are stained too. But it’s not the same red as theirs— instead the crimson drips off of his fingertips and onto the sand below. He’s crying, which hardly phases them anymore. But what does unsettle them is the love in his eyes when he looks up at them.

“I’m so sorry, Amaryllis,” he pleads, and Amaryllis is trying to tell him that it doesn’t matter, that they forgive him, but he isn’t talking to them, he doesn’t actually see them.

He’s talking to their body, motionless, laid out in the sand.

Each time he touches them the blood and the crimson spreads further and further. But he keeps doing so; brushing their hair from their face, folding their arms across their chest, smoothing out the silk of their dress. He’s humming, off-key and off-tempo thanks to his tears, but it’s the same lullaby that they’re always hearing.

It might be their body, but it doesn’t feel like a scene they’re supposed to see.

But they do, and so, so, often.

Whenever they try to touch him, their hands just pass through him, as if they were nothing but a ghost. And maybe they are, what with the way they lay dead before him.

But tonight is different, because when they lay a hand on his shoulder, his head snaps towards them, recognition falling over his features.

“Amaryllis?”

And then, they’re woken up.

They’re nearly toppling onto the floor, gasping desperately for air, calling out for someone they can’t remember, trying to remember the face from their dreams that now escapes them.

There are hands on their shoulders, warm and worn from magic use, and Amaryllis focuses on them, the feeling of safety they bring. They don't feel the need to jerk away like with most touches, instinctively knowing this touch is okay.

Erratic gasps for air begin to even out and their surroundings come back into focus. The gentle voice that’s been cooing soothing words into their ear for the last few minutes now becomes clear.

“...It’s alright, Amie. I’m right here, you’re safe, I swear...“

It’s Asra. The both of them are at home, in their bedroom above the shop. Still in a daze, Amaryllis doesn’t have the headspace to hesitate before they relax further into Asra’s arms. He rubs their back, counting out loud, slow and steady. Up to three, back down again, repeat. Amaryllis breathes in time with his voice.

“It was just a dream…” Amaryllis murmurs after a few minutes.

Asra shakes his head in disagreement. “No, it was a nightmare. Dreams are good things.” Amaryllis only hums softly in response. As far as they were concerned, both could be equally bad.

Now that their mind is clear, not only does the vulnerable position the two of them are in fully dawn on them, but so does the traveling coat over his shoulders, his packed bags near the door. It’s freezing when they pull away from his embrace.

“It doesn’t matter what it was, it’s over now.” Amaryllis stands from the bed, the thin satin of their nightgown sliding back down around their hips.

“Amaryllis, you’ve woken up in a panic like this every night for the past week.”

The worn wooden floor creaks as they pad across it. “It’s been longer than that.”

“I didn’t realize.”

“Because you haven’t been here.” It’s a simple statement, a fact, that they do their best to keep emotion out of.

Asra merely sighs. “I woke you so we could say goodbye. It’s nearing midnight.”

Amaryllis glances back at him. He’d barely been back a week from his last trip, when yesterday he announced he’d be taking Ophélie with him on a trip north— some magical hotspot in hopes of kickstarting any latent magic abilities she might have. And as glad as they were that he was taking her, and that they were allowed to know his destination for once, it still stung to have him gone so much.

It’s a vicious cycle between them. Amaryllis bitter because he’s always enigmatic and flighty, Asra always walking on eggshells because of their bad attitude and desire to just make him talk. They feel like they've tried too much, to no avail. Tried so much that they’ve given up.

“Well then. I’m sure Ophélie is quite eager.” Amaryllis manages a smile.

“That’s an understatement,” he laughs, and for a moment the air is light again. They stand before their armoire, picking up their discarded clothing from earlier in the day.

“Hopefully this helps her magic, she has to have some. And even if not, I’m sure it feels nice to get out of the city.” Amaryllis pulls their nightgown over their head, tossing it in the hamper, next to Asra’s pile of dirty laundry. “When will Vesper return from wherever you sent him this time?”

Asra is silent, and they hardly have to look at him to know how he’s looking at them. Amaryllis isn’t shy in the slightest, and they share most things after all, but Asra can’t be sly in all of his exploits. They turn and clear their throat and his eyes quickly flit away from their chest, cheeks dusted pink.

“Ugh… He was supposed to be back two days ago,” he finally answers.

Amaryllis fixes him with a glare. “What do you mean he was supposed to be back two days ago?”

“I know he’s fine! He just has a” —he makes quotations in the air with fingers— “friend near where he’s at is all. I’m sure he’s just busy.”

“Well then, at least one of us is getting some.” Amaryllis slips their skirt over their hips, enjoying Asra’s choked off laughter. Wordlessly, but still fighting the grin on his face, Asra steps forward to lace their bodice up in the back.

“I’ll be back down for farewells in a moment.” Asra nods, and with a light brush to their shoulder, he scoops up his bags and disappears down the stairs.

As they lean down to slip on their boots, they finally acknowledge the headache coming on.

#here we go boys #the arcana #asra alnazar #julian devorak #amaryllis leroux #julian route #julian route rewrite #apprentice amaryllis #come what may #amieasra #amieilya #amie fic

45 notes · View notes