#✱ ー ( ` ░ TW :: DEATH )

[luvcelestes]

YUUJI ITADORI x READER

mostly fluff with a little bit of angst.

PROLOGUE ー NEXT

summary: You and Yuuji were partners with blooming feelings, until you had been wiped out completely, causing you to be an amnesiac, losing a big chunk of your life, including him and any other friends you met in the past years. Only remembering a bit of your life, you had to slowly rebuild everthing from scratch.

TW: blood, mentions of death, PTSD, profanity, confusion about identity

"ill always be there for you. please hang on, my love.."

Your eyes widened as a curse pounced on you, yelling gibberish and slowly attempting to engulf and kill you. You screamed while fighting it. Unfortunately for you, the curse was extremely powerful, and it's main strength was physical power.

You struggled as it threw you around, yelling for help. As much as you tried, you couldn't break free of the curse's grasp. You tried using your jujutsu, but to no avail, your arms were broken from the strong grip the curse had on your body. You couldn't bring yourself to muster up the strength to fight the curse.

The curse looked curiously at you, and then a sick smile appeared on it's face when it realized you weren't going to fight. You looked at it wearily, and in one last weak attempt, you tried to get out of its grasp. Unfortunately, it didn't work. The curse, angered at your attempt, threw you on the ground and yelled as it picked you up and threw you around, your bones cracking, and the pain throbbing so much.

You cried, and writhed until you could barely feel anything. The pain was eventually too much, and the curse got bored of you, and walked away, as it attacked you, it thought to just leave you. You took heavy breaths as blood trickled down from the wounds.

'Fuck.' You thought as your eyes closed involuntarily, and you fought to keep them open, thinking about all your friends, and Yuuji. A soft smile appeared on your face as you thought of the memories you ha made together. Movie nights, birthdays, which Yuuji had gotten frosting all over his face. His sheepish smile You remember all the memories you had with him, and you finally closed your eyes, accepting your fate.

The last thing you heard through the ringing of your ears was the pained voice and footsteps. You instantly knew who it was. Yuuji. A single tear rolled down your cheek until all you saw was black, and what you heard was just static.

He ran faster than he'd ever ran before when he saw the pool of blood around you. He yelled as he reached you, tears running down his face. "No. No! No, no, no, no!"

He cuddled your head in his arms. "No... _____..." He cried into your shirt, holding your head with shaking heads, blood steadily streaming out of the wound. He shakily held your face, and checked for a pulse, and when he detected a faint pulse, a glimmer of hope came up in him.

He stood up and held you up carefully. He ran as fast he could, ignoring his own injuries, and ran to the hospital, faster than he ran when he trained. He knew if he was slow, he could risk your life. The second he reached the hospital doors, he collapsed, but not before protecting your head from hitting the cold tile, hoping you weren't injured.

He woke up to a hospital room, the beeping of machines, which bandages and casts. He looked around panicked. "How's the girl that was with me?" He asked a nurse nervously.

"Oh, _____ _____?" She grimaced, "she's fine... but unfortunately, she's in a coma."

His face must've showed his despair, as the nurse quickly said, "she's not doing bad. She's starting to improve, and the doctors predict she'll wake up in at most month."

He sighed a sigh of relief. Soon, many of Yuuji's friends and mentors came to visit him. They all expressed their happiness that he's improving quickly. Soon enough, he got discharged after a week. Even though he physically improved, the light that was previously in his eyes disappeared even more each day that passed that you didn't wake up.

He was sitting at your bedside, brushing off the hair off your face when he saw something that made happiness surge through his eyes. You opened your eyes and blinked, and Yuuji started crying as he felt you squeeze his hand softly. A small smile appeared on your face, and you closed your eyes again.

Yuuji ran to get a nurse, yelling. "She woke up! She woke up!"

You turned your head and softly smiled at this strange boy's excitement. You didn't know who it was but it sure was nice to have someone so excited for you.

Once the boy calmed down, and the nurse left to take many tests, you turned your head to him and asked shakily,

"Who are you?"

hey guys! short read, but i was too excited, so here's an early release!

im a busy student so dont expect quick updates 😭 sorry!! updates will be every once in a while so i apologize for that..

more coming soon ly 🫶🏻

(wordcount: 774)

[moonlight-shadxw]

Do you remember when I said in my Headcanons monty turned his mom to diamond by accident

He keeps her statue somewhere safe ( was his hotel ) and cleans it everyday

I'll explain more in detail below,

Ever since he was a kid, he couldn't help stealing whatever he thought was worth keeping. It started off with small things, to the point even irrelevant things too ended up in his hands.

As the kleptomania developed further, it'd get him even more in trouble with his father who already disapproved of his entire behavior.

His mother had opened him the doors towards art ; music, dance, and literature, and his main ideal was Romeo and Juliet, hence the name. And while he was an art enthusiast, it still wasn't enough to satisfy what his father needed of him. His mother would cover for him, much to his father's dismay, to the point he decided to disown his own son.

Sick of his father's abuse and mistreatment, he didn't hesitate to leave as soon as he was told.

Several years later, he chose to return home ;

After getting his hand on the diamond amulet, he thought he might show it to his mother as an achievement. But that wasn't the only aim of his trip ; the one he'd seen first was his father ー sneaking through the kitchen window, he came face to face with him ; quickly grabbing onto a knife, he stabs his father to death.

Now covered in blood, he realizes his mother had been watching. Knowing she already had heart problems, he watches her fall to the ground. He reaches to hold her, and unaware of the full extent of the amulet's power, he turns his mother to diamond. He wasn't sure if her turning this cold was because she was already dead when he held her, or because she had turned to crystal.

But the fact he hadn't much reacted to her death made him think, that perhaps his own heart had stopped too, turning cold, yet shiny and sturdy like diamond, the first part of him to crystallize.

He realized that day that all his ideals relating to people were going to be disappointing anyway ; valuables such as money or jewelry would never really lose value and power ー and if lost, they could always be found again.

Hence, his mentality shifted to mostly caring for this side of him, thus neglecting his artistic side, burying it along with his mother.

He still has her statue intact. Sometimes he still wonders if he had gone to his mother first, and then to his father ; perhaps things would've been entirely different.

The reason he went to see his father first was because he had a specific goal in mind, to take revenge on him, not only for himself, but also for his uncle.

As a child, he had witnessed his father kill his own brother in order to inherit his wine producing company and be its new boss.

Montague's uncle used to be one of the very few people he looked up to aside from his mother, and it was him who had told him about the diamond amulet, as a farfetched fantasy, keeping him dreaming about it over and over.

All these thoughts were intermingled in his mind, causing him to choose revenge before sentiment, making him the legal new owner of the company. However, turning his mother to diamond was an unwanted side effect, leaving him confused about what to do next ー until he thought the loss of both parents would be too suspicious, especially that he had just returned.

He needed to get rid of the evidence as soon as possible.

[ tw for slight gore and accidental cannibalism ]

.

.

.

He decides to chop up his father's body into reasonably sized parts and turn them to diamond, changing their shapes in order to make them appealing enough.

The only thing he'd been too curious about was his heart. It felt like his true act of vengeance, and the first compulsive thought that crossed his mind was to eat it.

Distraught by his own actions afterwards, it didn't take too long for him to regret, and then continued with his initial plan of burying the evidence and having it spread around. Those cannibalistic tendencies will only show in random impulsive bits, especially after committing a murder.

His only witness had been his mother, just as he had been the only witness of his uncle's murder ー and the two of them will be quiet about them.

[the-fatherr]

ー intro.

[ overseer playlist , wip ]

⚠️ tw!! this character is a cult leader & is part of a cult. there will be themes of this, religion, religious trauma, abuse, suicidal behavior & tendencies, self harm, death, violence, etc.

rules

no nsfw / 18+, mod is bodily a minor. suggestive & graphic shit is fine

treat mod with decency & respect, be kind.

character info.

-> they / them , xe / xem pronouns. gender neutral terms only.

ー personality.

-> overseer is awkward, antisocial, sheepish, & rather off-putting & intimidating. they do not know how to act around people due to abuse & isolation when they were younger. overseer has lots of pent up & unresolved trauma, aswell as other unresolved issues

ー trivia / extra info.

-> overseer has undiagnosed audhd. they are very neurodivergent, & they do not know about what is 'normal'.

-> overseer has severe unresolved trauma that they have not processed nor healed from yet. they have hallucinations & severe anxiety, & will regularly clock out of conversations due to random ptsd attacks & such.

-> overseer has no living family left except for medkit, whom they are first cousins with. both of their parents are deceased, & the rest of their family is unknown.

[spiralstereo]

ーMisguided, misled. But does that make you the victim? (No, no it doesn't)

⚠️ tw!! violence, cursing, blood, gore, etc.

info !! ・since orbitus & ghostwalker both speak in orange, orbitus's text will have '[ ' infront so the two are distinguishable from one another !!

Ghostwalker was growing restless. He felt as if everything was being put onto him; simple tasks, the responsibility of making sure everyone was alive & well, & yet these responsibilities just kept... piling up.

Darkheart's absolutely foul behavior didn't help either. They were still incredibly bitter after he got onto them about their behavior awhile ago. Petty... very petty of them. They were blatantly avoiding him, which was- fucking rude, they were very rude, but it was better then dealing with them all the time. Leagues better.

He still couldn't help but feel as if something was... wrong. That sense of dread building up in his core, in his gut. He didn't feel it often, but when he did- something was usually off.

Maybe it was the stress getting to him? The emotional turmoil? No, he doubted it. It was unlikely, very unlikely that something as little as that could be the reason he was feeling so... outwardly & extremely.

Something was brewing.

He could feel it in his bones, in his soul.

Looking up at a starless sky through the ceiling windows of his temple he could see it.

Forces, beings looking down below.

It was familiar in a way, in a way he couldn't fathom. In a way that made him shudder.

' What is it you want, soul shrieker?

Are you trying to make me loose my mind, or are you just trying to strike terror?

Answer me I plead, I know I have blood on my hands, but what have I done to deserve such torment? '

No answer. His pleads were not heard, nor were they regarded. The stars did not shine again, the abyss remained starless.

He turned on his heels, defeat sinking into him. He was ignored, he was truly, completely, & utterly- not that important. Important enough to juggle so many responsibilities & manage the deaths of other worlds, other quadrants of the Inphinity, which is what the other seven should be doing... but alas.

He believed he was alone, he believed he was alone with his stress, his studies, & his thoughts, until he heard a single, echoed footstep. He halted, whipping, snapping around almost instantly.

The book being held to his chest vanished with a flick of a wrist, & he cautiously studied the general area of where the noise came from, adjusting his glasses. He did not call out.

Another step. & another.

Before the other figure revealed themselves.

A tall, cloaked figure made out of- mist? A wispy substance that swayed, reminding him of his colleague, Ghosdeeri. He did not recognize this demon(?) at first, until he saw-

Their gear. A polearm, a long grip with a handle, with a long, polished blade on each end. It looked like a double sided glaive with engravings & patterns. He recognized that gear because it was also his own- the ghostwalker. It could shapeshift (except his was broken), but... this raised more questions then it answered them.

He studied them more. The cloak, the gear- this was definitely another reaper. But- what were they doing here? They had a rather smug look on their misty & wispy, almost foggy looking face.

[ "Ghostwalker of the Inpherno, right? Name's Orbitus of Kettel, lovely meeting you."

It extended it's wispy hand out to him. He raised a brow, looking it up & down once more, but he shook it's hand nonetheless. Something was... off.

"Yes, that is me? I- pleasure to meet you.. Orbitus. May I ask what your business here is, or- atleast what you're seeking from me?"

It paused for a moment. Also odd, very odd. He didn't necessarily trust them. Their tone shifted to a slightly more... malicious one? It puzzled him.

[ "Nothing necessarily- no.. Why so uptight?! Chill, relax a bit- hey, we can sit & chat about stuff! Why don't we do that?"

She put a wispy hand on his shoulder, ushering him to one of the cushioned seats in his reading nook- practically... pushing him. He felt her jostling around something as she pushed him, feeling more & more uncomfortable by the moment.

He eventually got himself to take a peek, taking a look at what she was doing &-

She was trying to stab him through the back.

Panic spread throughout him like an electric current, he practically jumped back for his dear life (or rather, existence) getting all defensive. She could tell that he had seen what she had been doing, that she had been caught.

He backed up slowly, readying himself to defend himself. She was very clearly no good, & a violent outburst was the first thing he was expecting out of her.

Yet it still tried to play nice.

[ "C'mon... you really don't wanna fight now- do ya?"

He was panicking, & it was visibly showing. The missing bit of his horn began to glow a bright & powerful gold as he readied himself.

"I want you out of my temple. Out of my world, preferably- I don't know what you want from me- but I am not interested. Leave, leave please."

It began approaching him.

[ "Look- just keep quiet & everything'll be-"

It was cut off by his large, magic, golden wings practically exploding out of his back. Holes, portals were forming on the floor, that he had summoned. Only made you wonder what would come out of them...

It swore under its breath, before charging at him. He launched himself up into the air, making a couple strange hand movements before a semi-translucent chain(?) was visible, connected between the two.

Orbitus seemed to panic a little upon seeing it at first, swearing under its breath again. It was being dragged around by him, wispy 'feet' soaked in the blood that was flooding the temple.

He landed, landing a decent but not far distance from them. That distance was quickly closed by Orbitus though, who was charging at him.

He seemed to make a- spear? A weapon, out of solidified blood & viscera. Ironic considering they were both knee-deep in mortal blood.

The two clashed, yanking & hauling each other around with the chain linking their souls & beings together, weapons clashing against one another. Blood continued to flood & fill the room, nearly swallowing the two whole.

Orbitus was visibly getting frustrated. This wasn't going how it usually would! She didn't like this, this wasn't fun at all.

She grunted, getting lugged & yanked around by the other's attempts to get her get away, or- something. He was trying to do something.

[ "Why won't you just- use your fucking gear!!"

That was when Ghostwalker managed to get her a good enough distance away from him- spikes, large & twisted spikes rising up from the ground, consisting of solidified blood & viscera. They enclosed her in a little box, a tight little space, which also trapped more actively-rising blood in with her.

Panic. She was freaking out, she couldn't just- fly out. She didn't have wings, nor could she swim very well. Not to mention, being in a tight space with the smell of blood- it was nauseating. Even for a grim reaper.

She clawed at the sides, trying to climb out. How tall was this thing? Tall, apparently, because she was struggling. She struggled & struggled until-

She gave up, raising up her hands, both of them in defeat.

Everything seemed to stop then. The actively-rising blood, the spikes enclosing her in that tiny fucking space, even the chain linking them together.

There he stood above her, his nice attire stained & soaked in mortal's blood. He was shaking a little bit, but still looking down upon it.

It got up to it's feet, slowly but surely. He did not offer help, nor did he want to. He stepped away when it got up & brushed itself off.

[ "I-"

"Don't."

He was stern, his voice almost monotone, unfeeling. He was slightly disgusted by it.

"I don't want to see you here again."

It sighed, still holding out it's gear, but it nodded & without another word- it was gone.

He had things to be doing.

[ariicandy]

Hey I see you do Hanako-kun requests,can I have hanako reacting to an S/O who has been murdered, turned into an apparition and then subsequently turned into a vicious rumour by Tsukasa ?

Hello!! I love this idea anon! You have such a good idea thanks for requesting this! Sorry this delay, as I was sick and school started again, so so sorry to make you wait!! NOTE - lack of motivation sorry in advance

TW/CW!! TALKS OF MURDER

Hanako’s Reaction to S/O Being Turn Into An Apparition And Being Rumored!!

ー⁝ 𐄂 He was really worried on how much you been missing school so much that to the point he is yearning for your comfort, your presence, that soft smile you make, and that giggling laugh that always gives him butterflies thinking how did he get you and how does he deserve you when he isn’t the absolute best at all

ー⁝ 𐄂 So once he heard that his s/o has been murdered? He was in so much denial, he didn’t want to believe you were gone that he can’t see you no more for the rest of his curse. He didn’t want to believe it. So when he heard a rumor going on about an new apparition who was very vicious right after just barley a few days after hearing you were gone? I got suspicious and didn’t want to think of the worst possible case scenario. You deserve to rest in peace, be with people you love, sleep calmly at ease now, not being stuck at a school and being in this horrible isolated curse.

ー⁝ 𐄂 Once he heard about your rumor he immediately went to search Yashiro and kou to help him get rid of your horrible rumor. (P.S you can make up whatever rumor you think!) He knew exactly who was spreading this vicious rumor of you, to say he was both angry, sad and scared for you now, being killed and turn into an apparition? It’ll take a lot of taking in. Hanako wants to find you quickly before tsukasa gets to you or even anyone that can freak you out and overwhelm you! Yashiro and kou have to reassure Hanako a lot that you will be fine that you might be just asleep and don’t even know anything that’s happening! They are trying their best to calm him down to not have him worrying and near panic attack :((

ー⁝ 𐄂 Once them 3, the toilet trio, had found your boundary they all hurryingly searched for you praying and hoping nothing hurt you or even got to you. While they were searching for you in your boundary, they were also hoping to find your yorishiro so you don’t have to be part of the school mysteries even tho now you are, hanako just doesn’t want to accept it because your mortal death hit him :(( It might take him some time to adjust you being, dead and an apparition, not just some teen who goes to school now. But atleast he can spend more time with you and be there for you!!

[adalz]

Lacrymosa - part 6

pairing: Zeke x Reader ー Priest!Zeke x Angel!Reader ー Angel!Levi / Angel!Reader

chapter warnings: mention of violence and blood, mention of death and wounds, mention of war / sacrilege tw, yada yada

world count: 6.4k

a/n: Levi. That's it.

<< prev. part | series m.list | next part >>

Someone was calling your name. 

Only no one upon these lands could have imitated its distinctive sound. Not in this way. There were only a few people who called you like that. Only one voice calling you with this intonation.

A familiar language that you had once dreamed of hearing on these lands. A voice that had resounded thousands of times on opaline surfaces and in too pristine halls. Now it echoed beyond the treetops, throughout the entire sky. It was calling you. That voice, so warm, so far away. Silver gleams already shining everywhere.

He was coming. 

You could feel him, souls trembling from being so far apart. 

He was coming, from the depths of the world. 

And all you could feel was him, deep in your bones. It was pulling at your insides, like the ocean draining away the waves before a tsunami. Inexorably drawn in, subject to a force too violent, that would engulf everything. You could hear his voice, loud in your head. 

He was coming, and as his wings struck the Surface sky, snow started to fall upon forgotten lands. 

He was coming, and with him, eternal winter.

Everything he saw, you saw in turn through his eyes. It was as if you were guiding his steps, as if you were the only one who could show him the way, towards the fire, towards the blood-soaked lands, towards destruction. As if you were the only one who could call him to you.

You could see the scenery flash before his eyes. As familiar landscapes appeared before him, you recognized them - you knew them from a dream. You knew them, but not from so high up in the sky. Then, you saw a mountain, you saw a cliff, edged by pines. From above, you saw the path, the one going towards the house. You saw traces of steps, hundreds of them, as engraved in the ground. 

Great wings beating hard, shattering the opaque air - everything was denser, darker that you knew. The world was bathed in an acrid smoke, which clung to the eyes and embedded itself inside the lungs. And when his eyes fell upon where the house was supposed to be, there was nothing but a raging fire. There was the shape of a house, there were memories of what it used to be. 

And the fire was burning everything. The stone walls had exploded under the weight of the burning old frame, sending huge embers crashing down. There was no floor, there was no roof anymore. Fire devoured everything. 

He knew. 

He knew it was here that it all took place. He could feel it as well, the pain enfolding, the distress coming from deep within his soul. He stayed there, above the blaze, staring at the flames, before closing his eyes for a moment, trying to focus.

“This way…”

His eyes glanced towards the forest. 

Silver wings started beating harder the air all around, making the treetops tremble and blowing the dust off the ground. There was no pain, all movements smooth and natural. Only stinging in his chest, sorrow, devouring and insidious. Only a voice, pulling from inside. 

Carefully, he set a foot on the Surface’s grounds. He took a step - and you could feel the dirt under the sole of his feet as if it were you who had walked. 

He was not frightened. He was not lost and confused as you once was; he moved forward, head high, wings wide open, invested with a purpose. And perhaps, in his walk, a certain habit emerged, that of treading the dust of the Surface. He started walking towards the forest, through the path of those woods you knew too well. And behind him, the blaze ran out of steam, the scorching flames suddenly feverish. The embers died slowly, devoid of heat. Frost already absorbing everything.

And with him, the world plunged in winter. 

Everything was still. Everything was immobile. Yet, there was a thing luring him forward, hasty and restless. A silent cry guiding him towards a familiar soul, towards a missing piece of himself.

And as he walked, the world died quietly. 

Through the trees, he passed by the mortals and their torches and their guns. Everything was still. The moment on hold. He passed by them, and their torches went out as he walked. He passed by them, and their bodies collapsed on the ground. 

That was the cost for laying eyes on a child of Ymir. That was the cost, for considering spilling their blood. He kept on walking, and as he did, lifeless bodies fell onto the ground, skin cold and death freezing on their lips.

Finally, he stepped into a clearing.

And as he walked upon the Surface, he recognized it, just like you did when you first saw it. A Temple to Ymir. The colonnades were still there but enclosed by walls. It was washed from its vivid colors, stained-glass shattered into a million pieces. 

He had always thought they all had been destroyed, all those centuries ago. That none of them still stood on their ground. But it was here, it was real. The last piece of the puzzle. - hidden away and forgotten. 

His eyes eventually fell on the shape of a body, lying in the high grass.

It was dressed in black, elongated limbs squeezed into a movement, twisting a body too tall. And only as he got closer, he saw the opaline face framed by light hair. 

At the sight of the face, something arose in him. Powerful, too raw for him to contain. It tasted like anger. Like a senseless hatred clouding his own judgment. A mirror to your emotions, mixed with his. It took him a moment to collect himself. To suppress it all.

As he stood there, he observed the mortal, the bloodstains on her untidy clothes. There had been a struggle, her collar had been tugged until it was torn. Her arm was stretched out, a broken wrist, reaching towards something. A little further away was a gun.

It was a cursed soul still throbbing in a broken body.  

He closed his eyes. You felt the sigh on his lips as he turned away from her.

And snowflakes crashed against the bruises on her face. Her breath died in the cold.

“This is it,” he thought. This was the cost they had to pay. The sweet liberation of death.

And as he walked closer towards the Temple, the pulling at his chest became stronger, like a pulse, pounding harder with each step. 

He abruptly stopped. 

All around him, late autumn flowers were stained in red.

Another body laid there, at his feet. 

A boy, he saw, his eyes closed, corners still wet from tears - they had marked his face in such a delicate way, wet trails, drawing sinuous paths on his dusty cheeks. Yet the fragility of the moment did not capture what was really on the young face. It was the pain engraved on the features. This was a boy, only a boy.

His white garment was pierced in a single place, right below his heart. From there, life had escaped, in a wake of blood, thick arabesques. A single shot, a fatal wound.

There was nothing there. A fragile life already gone. But there, against his clothes, were feathers. 

And so, he knelt beside the boy. Carefully, he brought his hand to the cold face. 

He didn’t know what compelled him to do so. He couldn’t fathom why there was such sorrow, why it made him sick to just look at him. Why it angered him so much. As his fingers skimmed over his frozen skin, he took away the grief and the pain from his soul. Freed him. When he finally stood up, his hands were shaking.

Time was ticking away dangerously. The seconds hanging in the hourglass, flowing dangerously to the bottom. His power was waning, quivering on his forgotten land - like a torn fabric, letting the grains of sand of an endless desert creep in. There was no time for grief, no time for mourning. It was here, so close. But there was no one else in the clearing. Yet he knew what he was looking for. He knew you were here. 

In the grass, under his feet, stains of blood. Blood everywhere. He followed it, and with each step, the sole of his feet turned scarlet. He walked in the shattered glass, towards the Temple. It had to be there. 

The facade was decrepit, the limestone ancient and stained by time. There were a few steps leading to a stoop, dug by the weight of the millions of feet having one day climbed the stairs. He stopped in front of a door that had been left ajar. It creaked as he pushed it open.

A few seconds passed, for his eyes to get used to the darkness. For his mind to capture what was inside. Pews, and dust floating around. An altar lit up by the sky. There was a gaping hole in the ceiling. The light coming from the sky was gray, the pale sun of the Surface hidden by dark clouds.

On the marble floor, footprints led behind the altar. 

He took a few steps, his own heart pounding harder than ever.

There, there was a shadow, the shape of bodies tangled together on the floor. Step after step, he walked towards them.

He discerned a mortal man. His back to him, body bent - every bone in his spine showing through his bare skin. It was a vulnerable position, to the slightest blow. His head was low - resting against the body in his arms, and his forearms were covered in blood. His face couldn’t be seen, only the strands of flaxen hair falling on the side of his face. He was holding someone tight, covering their face with one hand, as if trying to stop the blood from running away. 

It hurt. It was agony, just to look at the scene. The despair in which he was lost. The preciousness of the one within his arms. How willing he was to give everything away for a fragment of life.

And as he stepped closer, the attraction suddenly snapped within him. 

In his arms, there was you.

Finally, you thought - and it echoed in Levi’s mind.

“Finally, I found you,” he said.

“Finally, you came,” you said.

And you watched as he knelt down in front of you.

You watched what he saw. You heard what he thought. That mortal, blood spilling and spreading over his fingers. That impudent man, daring to touch you. That insolent creature, doomed for eternity for having laid his eyes upon you. 

But all you could see was a broken man, trying to make sense out of the chaos. A man, trying his best to survive. A little boy turned into a soldier, still believing that life was something to protect. A boy, trying to heal a wounded being. All you could see was Zeke. Zeke holding your dying body in his arms. All you saw was the distress on his face, the tears on his cheeks. Your Zeke, alone in the darkness. Losing everything all over again. 

You would have liked to reach out to him, to his body, to his skin. You would have liked to hold him tight, there, against your heart. You would have liked to cry out, to mourn the justice of this world. But you were a mere spectator of the horror, a messenger of a destiny about to collapse, the witness of a last moment. And Levi's hands remained still at his side. 

“He never should have touched you,” Levi said, and you couldn’t see his face as he spoke.

All you could see was Zeke. 

And if it was not love that you saw, you were the most miserable being in this universe. Because it was in the way he was holding you, so dearly, when there was no hope. It was in that pain, a gaping hole that you could feel resonate everywhere.

When Levi eventually made a movement, his hands came to you. Abruptly, he tore you out of his arms, out of his embrace. Zeke's body remained there, kneeling and broken, as if petrified, while you were already moving away from the warmth of his arms.

He carried you towards the altar, where the light was coming from the sky. There, he could almost feel the wind on his face.

“That’s where I fell,” you murmured in his mind.

“I searched for you everywhere,” he whispered. “I searched in every sea, every ocean, in every bottomless abysses. On every battlefield I went, and among the bodies of dead soldiers, I was looking for you.” 

“I waited for you to come. But you never did.”

Through his eyes, you watched as Levi looked at your face, as if for the first time. He looked at the wound. He may have winced. You understood the fire and the blood covered world. You understood that she had aimed at your face. 

With the softest caress, he touched your forehead. 

And then, like a song played in reverse, he watched as the wound healed by his touch, as the blood flowed in reverse and as your skin closed under his skin, like sand blown by the wind. He waited, for what seemed hundreds of years, until your mind would let go of his.

He felt it giving in. He felt your skin getting warmer under his fingers. He watched as you opened your eyes. 

The prettiest eyes he had ever seen.

And when you opened your eyes - heavy, so heavy - Levi was here, before you. 

It was him, truly him. His face so real - and the joy of finally remembering washed over you. All the memories came back, as if you had run after them after they had started to evaporate. It was like chasing the birds in the sky, like cupping the butterflies in your hands before they were to flutter too high. 

You sighed with ease.

“But you’re here now,” you whispered.

And his eyes, that silver color that always made you feel safe, suddenly closed. Long and dark lashes, drawing shadows on his cheeks. 

When he opened his eyes again, they were shining bright. His jet black hair, always carefully tucked behind his ears, were falling on his cheekbones, hiding the sight of him.

“I thought I had lost you.”

You didn't let go of him while he told you, you had to hold him, always, never letting him go. He stayed like that. He talked. He talked, talked to himself. You listened attentively to a somewhat incoherent monologue, without importance. As for you, you listened to his memory starting up, apprehending hollow forms that made sense only for him, if you considered the memories ones to the others - like a game with lost rules.

You had waited for this for so long. So long, to hear the sound of his voice, the sweet ricochet of your names on his tongue. He said it again, and again and again, to make sure that it was true. That it was real. That you were real. 

It was real.

All of this was real. And it hit you, like a slap across the face. That it was all real, that outside, there was nothing but blood under the snow-covered world.

Your eyes suddenly snapped back towards Zeke. There, his body still in the darkness, frozen in time. 

Before you could say a word, Levi mumbled against your shoulder, “Let’s go home.”

Home. 

You had dreamt of those words. You had dreamt of it. 

There had been so many sleepless nights. So many questions, so much anguish. What if no one ever comes? What if they all forgot about me too?

But then had come the truth. The sacred texts and the strange beliefs. Then came affection and warmth. And with that truth, came peace. 

It was impossible. You could not leave everything there, not like that. Not yet. 

“I can’t,” you said.

Levi’s head jerked up, to stare at your face. 

“What?” His face was stoic, only the furrow of his forehead betrayed his thoughts.

“I can’t go back, after being here for so long.”

“Yes, you can.”

“No, Levi, I can’t.”

Suddenly, Levi stood straight. For a moment, you looked into each other's eyes. 

“What do you mean?” he asked, and his eyes were fixed in yours, looking for a sign, for an explanation. The weight of the words hard to grasp. “Is it because of me? Is it because I couldn’t find you?”

And you wanted to tell him it was all right, that it was not his fault. But that would have been a lie. If he had come sooner, things would have been different, perhaps. If you had known the truth, all along, things wouldn’t have been the same. It was not his fault, neither was it yours. It was just the world you were born in.

Carefully stroking the side of his face, you said, “I can’t leave him there.” 

And with these words, you slowly parted from his body. You walked around the altar, in this moment suspended between those two worlds. You knelt down in front of the man that had held you, the one that had kept you alive. The one that swore to protect you. 

Zeke’s face was imbued with such great despair. His sweet face, stained with blood and loss. And you wanted nothing more than to hold him in your arms, for eternity. To make sure he was safe, and that life was treating him fairly. That those wounds he had suffered wouldn’t kill him. That nobody would hurt him more than he already was. 

“I can’t leave him like that,” you whispered.

Selfishly, you would have thought that he would understand. Surely, he would understand. Surely there was hope. You looked up at Levi.

But his eyes were shining with something dark. All these emotions on his face, they were all new. 

He had stood up from where he was. He took a step. And as he walked, his face lowered dangerously. Snowflakes slid slowly behind him, across the ceiling.

“What did he do to you?” And his words were nothing but a deep whisper. A warning.

You stayed there, knees against the cold stone, in this Temple forgotten by time.

Some part of you wanted to rush towards him, to grab his hands. Words formed on your lips, around your tongue, excuses, only excuses - trying in vain to find something to say. Something to make him understand, quickly, something to erase that look of pure disgust. Something to bring him back to you. Something to make sure he was the same, and you were the same, and nothing had to change. Anything.

Nothing but the truth came out of your mouth.

“He saved me. He saved me when no one else did.”

He was getting closer, eyes dark. Inside your chest, you felt your heart for the first time in forever, pounding too hard.

“I gave him everything I had because he was the sole reason I was alive. Because he was torn and fragile and he showed me love like no one else ever did-...”

One syllable, filled with rage. It echoed everywhere. A beast’s roar. He yelled, a single word.  In denial.

At that very moment, you thought “So it’s all true.”

Not only Zeke had been right. Humanity was.

Because you saw something in his eyes. Something so violent, so sharp, you felt it piercing through your heart. You saw it all, glimpses of things you would have never imagined running upon his face. He was looking straight through you, and all you could see was it - the violence of his stare.

So you led in, caught Zeke’s body, brought him against your chest. Your hands tightened around his shoulders as you looked back at Levi. 

But before you were nothing but these silver eyes. Gleaming back at you, casting a gloom over the world all around. In his back, glorious wings, stretched open, so wide, wider than you could even remember. Taking all the space between those walls. Hiding away the sunlight. 

Those wings, taking him places you could never have imagined. Always, always shining so bright. But the truth was covered in blood.

Humanity had been right all along. Their stories might have been different from the ones you’d been taught, but they were right. All you knew was nothing but fabricated lies.

It was true, yet very violent to fathom. But as you stood there, kneeling in front of this man, you suddenly understood.

What they meant, all this time.

That Levi was the Angel of death.

It was a stranger standing before you. It was a threat; it was an enemy. All that you could see was death in his eyes. It was hatred and disgust. And you never really knew him. 

You never really knew anyone. Because they kept on lying and lying and lying to you, about the Surface and the world and Mankind. You weren’t even sure that you could fly nor that the pristine halls of Paradis ever existed. 

Seconds went by, and you were nothing but a mere child under his stare. You could have cried, pleaded, and begged, but did none of it. You felt sick in your stomach. On the verge of dying.

It was as if you had forgotten how to breathe. As if your own life was running through your fingers. As if he knew everything, every fragment of your soul and your deepest desires. And under his stare, there was nothing, nothing, you could do. Those eyes you remembered so full of affection were long gone. Standing before you, a man you’d never seen before. There was so much to ask, so much to confront, the contradictions and the lies. But you were quick to realize, at this moment, that the Goddess never made gentle children. 

All of you were sinners, as your once humanity cursed you to be. 

Savage brothers and sisters.

Five words echoed in the Temple. Through his gritted teeth, spitted out like venom, he pronounced five words, enough to ground you back into the world.

“I will slice his throat.”

And there was no such thing as pity in his eyes. His jaw was set, the joints of his fingers going white around the grip of a blade - a weapon you suddenly remembered him wielding. Long and sharp, beveled blade. Holy weapons, called to their bearer side by their will only, granted by the Goddess Herself to Her children.

It all came back to you. The day of the attack. What happened before the fall. 

You remembered coming out of a stupor when the first blow sounded against the doors, echoing in the empty and quiet halls. Before you knew it, you were standing in front of them, so massive, your spear in your hands. 

You remembered fighting with your own weapon. Sharper and deadlier than an arrow. Piercing the flesh, nailing the bodies to the ground. All of it, so vividly, the blows knocking them down. It was something you knew how to do. It was something engraved within you.

In your back, wings started fluttering painlessly. You raised your head to him, ignoring the blurred world all around you. And instead of the shaking words you thought you'd pronounce, there was a raging shout.

“Then I’ll kill you.”

His wings began to beat, blowing the dust and flakes into your face. But instead of keeping your head down in front of him, in front of his power and strength, you stood up, Zeke's body heavy in your arms. There, right up against you. Where nothing could ever take him away.

“I'll bleed you with my own hands on those cursed grounds if you take one more step.”

Levi was staring at you, his disgusted eyes everywhere on you, glaring at the man in your arms. He took another step. 

You imagined it, his blade slicing Zeke’s throat. His life over forever, and being the one responsible for it. Not fighting for what you wanted, for what you deemed right, was out of question.

“I said stop!”

And it was more than a shout this time. It almost took you aback, the sheer force of it, the vibrant and unbreakable words. 

An inexorable command to which every being would yield.

And Levi stopped dead in his tracks. The beating of his wings suddenly lagged, bringing to a halt the storm around you. Immobile in turn, in this in-between plan of the universe which seemed to be his alone. 

Every muscle on his face was twitching, betraying an anger so great that his forced stillness couldn't contain. He was fighting it, trying to break free from you. Struggling to even speak. In his hand, the blade of his weapon was trembling imperceptibly under the pressure of his fingers.

But you were no match before him. He was pure strength and determination, and you knew that whatever prevented him from hurling himself at you, would soon break. At any moment, the imposed balance would shatter. At any moment, he would win the fight. Soon, he would be on you, deadly blade slicing loved fleshes.

And you, you had to remember how to fight. You had to remember how to use the weapon the Goddess once gave you. You just had to call it.

You looked down at Zeke in your arms, his face still, his sorrow engraved behind his closed eyelids. There was no surrender. There was no acceptable ending where you were to leave him. There was just no path where you didn’t live to love him. You weren't giving up on him. 

Slowly, in your mind, you remembered the touch of it, the touch of your fingers against the wooden handle. That weapon of yours, light and piercing. A spear like no other. You remembered yourself, your childish hands turned towards the Goddess, in which She had placed a weapon too big, too heavy. Too deadly. You remembered the naturalness of its throw, the extension of your arm. You remembered the bodies collapsing under its whistle, the sharp, vivid rip in the air.

You could almost feel it in your hand. Its weight, its sensation. It was almost there, crawling under the skin of your hand.

You tried, you really tried. You thought you could do it. 

But nothing came when you called.

Your eyes snapped open at Levi’s voice breaking the silence.

“You don’t know what you’ve done.”

At your side, your hand remained empty. 

And there was no reasoning with him. You could read it all upon his face. He had already tipped over somewhere unreachable, abandoned to panic and disgust. Fighting to get the upper hand - trying to break whatever compelled him to remain immobile. 

What you had done, no one could ever understand. Not even him. That love he once had for you - was not for the one standing before him, brave and desirous. It was for the child you used to be, lost and drowsy by eternity. What you had done could be drowned by excuses, but would never be enough for him to understand. 

“I lived,” you answered him, and it all came out like a river in spate, “I tried to live! And you are not allowed to blame me for it. I wanted all the things I thought I never needed, all the things of which I had been deprived. I only wanted my life back, that’s all I ever did. I denied it all for so long, but I had to fall, didn’t I? I guess I had to fall, to find my place among the ashes.”

His face twisted into a wince, his whole body shaking with rage. “You let this swine corrupt you,” he snapped back at you. “For what? For the fleeting feeling of being alive? You let him touch you, you let him-…"

"You don't know a hundredth of what we've done! You don't know anything!”

“Oh, but I know everything! I know what you have done, you idiot!”

“Why does it matter to you? You all thought I was dead! Would have it been better if I were dead?”

“Our fleshes are sacred! Ymir made us who we are so we could watch over this world, not to get our hands dirty with it!”

“And yet she let it rot!” you shouted, and as you spoke, you held Zeke’s body tighter. “She let her own children die and suffer in wars so old they forgot why they even fought in the first place. You think because she saved a handful of us, thousands of years ago, she is a fair ruler?”

“Look outside! Look at what they did to you! They are the ones to blame for all of this.”

“Are they really?”

Were they really to blame, while abandoned by the goddess for millennia, they had to rebuild a world gone up in smoke, growing up upon lands stained by blood. This hatred, like a heritage of a godless people, was not making any sense.

Yet everything had emanated from her.

Ymir, the Mother of all things, was the starting point of everything; the world’s creator, its protector and its only Goddess. 

But she had chosen to destroy it, while Mankind, jealous of her eternity and power, had defiled the ground of Paradis. She was the one who had cursed them, who had turned the verdurous lands of her own world upside down and made the oceans spit fire. She was the one who had torn the sky from the surface, promising forever to watch her children kill each other on once fertile lands. 

She was the one who taught you how to fear and how to hate. She was the one who showed you how to kill. She had been the one responsible for destroying everything, and eventually - for cursing them.

“Do you think the diluted hatred in their blood is truly theirs? Can’t you see that this,” and you waved at the world around you, at the ruins of this temple, at the corpses in the grass, at the smoke in the sky, “is not our legacy? 

“This is the cost they have to pay.” The gravel of his voice. Everywhere. Embroidering under your skin. 

“And I refuse to stand there as she keeps on murdering the children of her children. I refuse to remain silent in the face of her atrocity.”

A grimace of pain flashed on his face as he said, “She made you who you are. She gave Her own life to have you live.”

“And how many did she make you take?” you spitted. “How much did it cost you?”

His face fell. For the first time, he looked at you in disbelief.

Because he knew that you weren’t supposed to know. He knew those heavy secrets kept away from you. And that his mere purpose in this world was one of them.

“How-...”

“Would it be easier? Tell me, Angel of death, would it be easier to hide it?”

“Don’t call me that, you don’t know-...”

“What else must I know to understand? Don’t you dare tell me about this goddess of ours. Don’t you dare tell me she has been fair to you.”

“I accepted my duties. I didn’t do it to help Her. I did it to survive.”

“Or else what?” And you watched, you watched as he stood there, looking for an answer, looking for the words that would sound right. 

You would never have known, never, all the power that truth contained, how it could turn the game around, until you held it in the palm of your hand.

“She would have gotten rid of you, Levi. Like she got rid of me.”

“No.”

“She would have made your wings wither and exiled you to the end of the world, where the bloodthirst of Mankind is as great as on the first day of the Holy Wars. She would have ripped away your memories and stifled your cries for help.”

“This is not what happened.”

You were here for a reason. Because she knew that no one would ever come here, as all of you had forgotten about this place. Because this was nothing but a punishment. The only one of her children who did not know how to fly, fallen from Paradis. 

“What happened then? Has she not shaped this world with her own hands? What could have happened for a goddess to forget about her own child? So tell me, Levi. What was her purpose? How could the master of all things have failed in her duties without ever alarming us?”

You straighten yourself up, spreading your feet below your hips as you adjust Zeke’s weight in your arms. In your back, wings shrugged, waiting for an answer that never came.

“She’s tired of this world,” you said, slowly, “bored of her creation. There is no blood anymore, no prayers, no mourners pleading her name. Mankind has evolved. They kill themselves with weapons she could never have given them. 

Can't you see that she is no longer amused? She doesn't need it anymore. She created mankind for her pleasure, for her own pure enjoyment. And while the gods never get bored, she got bored with the suffering of her playthings. 

She’s trying to get rid of it. She enslaved her most powerful children, sending them to kill themselves in cruel and aimless labor - while the useless ones she abandons to the edge of the world. She turned the most powerful of them all into an obedient little soldier, while the rest of us went numb in hollowness. This is only the beginning - it takes time to erase and start again. The only purpose she has been pursuing was to get rid of this world. And whether you like it or not, we are part of it.”

And right as you spoke, the balance broke.

Except it was not because he fought back, because his power had broken the weight of the order. It was because he surrendered. 

He flinched back.

Behind you, all around you, the deafening sound of something shattering sounded. It was coming from the sky, from deep within the earth. Your eyes snapped toward the gaping hole in the ceiling, and from there, you could see immense cracks tearing the gray sky.

“There is no time left,” Levi said, and your eyes snapped back at him. He sounded so flat, as if none of it was affecting him anymore.

It was about to break. This quiet word you were all plunged in. Soon, the winter was to be over. 

“Just let me go,” you said in a whisper, voice suddenly quivering.

His eyes were turned towards the destroyed ceiling. He wasn't looking at you anymore, anger and disgust gone. On his face, only deception could be seen. And as he spoke, his eyes remained fixed towards the gray sky.

“I won’t leave you here.”

“You can leave us here, you can forget about me!”

But he was not listening anymore. He was not fighting back. 

“Come home with me,” he said.

“It’s not home. It never was.,”

“Stop it. Please,” he said, and his eyes fell to the ground between the two of you. Something in his voice was urgent. And in his back, his silver wings resumed their flutter.

“I’m begging you, just leave me here,” you were shaking your head. You were pleading. 

He took a step forward.

“I can’t.”

“Yes, you can!” you shouted. Zeke’s body was tight against your chest, the warm scent of his life against your skin, “Just leave me here, as if you had never found me!”

His wings flared out.

It was like witnessing the return of spring, the moist heat rising to your cheeks, the world suddenly overflowing, full of scents, too much heat. It was like watching the world regain its colors, after being plunged in the dark for so long.

Only it was terrifying. It was the last grain of sand in the hourglass, about to be swallowed down. It was not a rebirth of any kind. It was the return of something that meant the end. It was the bodies outside that would finally die, where the winter had taken everything. It was the end.

He didn’t answer, sweeping a cold stare across your face. So heavy of meaning, the disappointment palpable. Under it, you slightly flinched, its weight more meaningful than a thousand words.

“I’m sorry,” he said.

And suddenly everything around you was pitch black. All that was to be seen were his two silver eyes. Transfixed on you. 

You felt it coming, dryness drawing on your eyes. 

Everything was dark, and he was everywhere, silver eyes shining so intensely that you couldn't take your eyes off, a too brutal attraction. It was like being dragged against your will into lands too far away to ever imagine. A rapture that meant the end. You were not to blink or it was over.

Don’t close your eyes. 

In your arms, Zeke made a movement. His body was coming back to life, warm and clammy.

You felt him regain consciousness. Then, you heard the sweet sound of his voice. A mumble, his weight adjusting, trying to straighten up. You felt his hand, sliding down your shoulder. He called for you, his voice exhausted. He whispered “love?" against your neck.

And yet you could not take your eyes off death.

When you leaned in, grabbing his face with one of your hands, your eyes couldn't avert the unyielding silver colored eyes. He was getting closer. It was too late. 

"Listen to me, Zeke. Listen to me carefully."

Not yet. Don’t blink.

You tried to resist, but all of it, it was too strong, swallowing you whole, towards unescapable halls. There was nothing, nothing you could do.

“You have to swear,” you said, voice broken, echoing faintly, “Swear that you will keep your eyes closed.”

Or it’s all over. 

Before you, only the blade of his eyes. There, so close, inevitable. Already engulfing everything. And it hurt, hurt so sharply, eyes burning from resisting, from standing up against him.

You would have liked so badly, one last time, to see the blue of his eyes, the tempestuous color of the ocean. To lose yourself in their vastness.

There was no ending of your story where you were to leave him.

“What you will see will only kill you.”

[hazy-shxde-of-winter]

Edit: Covid deaths cw, was half asleep when I made this and forgot to tag.

Guys, I know people have touched on this before but it stings every time I'm reminded. I do a lot of thrifting, both out of environmental concerns and a love of vintage styles, and the stores here have been stale and empty for a few years.... Until now. There was an influx of antique clothing and furniture, decorative ceramics, dishes, you name it. I have seen more long discontinued Pyrex and Tupperware in the last few months than I ever have. As happy as I am to gain another reliable, well loved item that will last for years to come... It is a permanent reminder, a monument to a tragedy. I live in a really stubborn, conservative town. Nobody cared about Covid, they felt invincible, nothing closed, nobody wore masks. It tore through the older population. The funeral director built a pool, bought his daughter a new car, and went on vacation to the beach that year. When it got worse, stuff closed a little. People finally didn't go out after having two funerals a week in a small town. And when everything opened again in a few months? The secondhand stores were full.

TL;DR: The influx of antique items recently in thrift stores was caused by older people dying of Covid and I'm Not Okay.

[lacuna-at-dawn]

You Are My Sunshine | Chongyun x Reader

Warnings: War; Major character death

Word Count: 362 words

Other notes: Happy birthday Chongyun <3; I recommend listening to Jasmine Thomas’s cover of “You Are My Sunshine” while reading this

Blood. Blood everywhere. All over the ground. All over his clothes. And all Chongyun could think about was finding you. Bodies littered the ground around him, but that wasn’t important to him. What was important to him was you. 

“(Y/n)? (Y/n)!” He called for you. 

When he saw you, you had been shot by an arrow from the enemy, and were lying to the ground. Chongyun ran up to you, starting to cry. “(Y/n)! (Y/n)!”

“Chongyun…”

“(Y/n)! Hang on, I’m going to take you to the medical tent!”

“Chongyun, no. You’ll be too late. Just… just do one more thing for me.”

Chongyun’s breath hitched in his throat before nodding. “What is it?”

“That song I sang to you all the time, the one from when we were kids. I want you to sing it to me.”

Chongyun sniffled and took a deep breath. “You are my sunshine, my only sunshine. You make me happy when skies are gray. You'll never know, dear, how much I love you.” He sang, his breath shaky.

You joined in at the final line. “Please don't take my sunshine away.” And with that, you were gone.

It seemed like the world had stopped. Chongyun cried and cried, as if it was going to bring you back.

They’re gone… They’re gone, and it’s my fault… I’m so stupid…

“Mr Chongyun! Can you sing us that song again?”

“Which one?”

“The one that you sing all the time. The one about the sunshine!”

Chongyun stiffened. It had been years since he had last sang it to anyone, except you at your grave. 

“What’s wrong Mr Chongyun? You started crying.”

Chongyun quickly wiped his tears. “I-it’s nothing! Of course I can sing it to you, but you have to promise something.”

“Yes sir!”

“You have to promise to keep it to you dearly, and sing it to everyone you love dearly.”

“I promise!” The small child responded. 

Chongyun smiled softly and cleared his voice. “You are my sunshine, my only sunshine. You make me happy when skies are gray. You'll never know, dear, how much I love you. Please don’t take my sunshine away.”

Thank you, (Y/n), for everything… I love you… 

[livjatang]

“It was you who crushed the heads of Leviathan,

and gave it as food to the creatures of the desert”

— Psalm 74:14

[gay-heretics]

[alt in ID]

[ghost-chance]

Today, Cold and I lost a friend to Covid. No, not "a difference in opinion regarding Covid." Our friend was fine last week, went on a ventilator this week, and died yesterday. There were no warnings. There was no time to say goodbye. He was fine, then he was gone...and he was in good health and the prime of his life.

I've been nice before now. I've been patient and suffered the deniers. Now? Now I'm angry, and I'm liable to start going off on people. My husband's heart is breaking, and I'm fucking angry.

Covid is real, it is dangerous, and if you refuse to follow guidelines, I blame YOU for this. Congratulations. You have yet another death on your heads.

Family...friends...I'm liable to be offline for awhile while we process this.

[somnolent-snufkin]

[dissevered]

                                                ---i fear not pain; death take me in.

       HE MURMURS UNTO THE SHADOWS, adrift a tide of darkness; all alone. he is a ghost inside of his own head, unseen; faded away. he will become one with the void, as fate had always intended. 

                                       it was meant to be this way. 

       the voice that fills the loneliness is nothing more than his own, a soft cadence, smooth like velvet, resounding like an echo in the emptiness. and so he remains, trapped in a familiar dream---

             ... V slowly opens his eyes, the light seeping into his vision little by little. it takes a minute or two to fully discern his surroundings given the disorient, nestled in the comfort of his own lodgings. 

       the midday sun peeks through his curtains, casting a narrow blade of warmth across his cheeks. laying in his bed for a moment longer, staring aimlessly at the ceiling above, V blinks away his daze, struggling to seat himself upright. to his great detriment however, as a pang of searing pain rips through his chest--- a cruel reminder.

             ❝  uhh--!  ❞ clenching his teeth, he grabs at his heart, managing only a fistful of his vest as if to will away the hurt.

       sweat wells at his forehead as he tightens his grip, tresses of ink black hair falling limply around his eyes. his head is pounding, grappling with consciousness as he forces his gaze toward the door. every breath claws at his throat, wavering with the shuddering rise and fall of his chest. there was blood, as he recalls, and it was everywhere, staining his lips and hands, filling his mouth. it felt like he was drowning. but when he felt for the wound, he found nothing: no torn flesh, no splintered bones... there was no hole there anymore.

                                        i... i died... why did i---?

       why did he do that? fear like an old friend finds him again, numbing him, reminding him it’s still here, lurking behind his eyes. his goal had only ever been to survive--- when did that change? his thoughts are moving too fast for his head, he can’t keep up with them; the questions, the uncertainty... the memories. it all comes flooding back.

      he peers aside, where his phone waits on the bedside table. tentatively he reaches for it, pushing a button. the screen lights up, upon which reads a couple of message notifications, but then his eyes dart up to the date.

                                        ... a day. it’s been a day.

       so it’s true, he muses through the fog---

                                                                                 ... i’m alive.

[spiralstereo]

ー Looking in the mirror, this isn't who I want to be.

⚠️ tw!! gender dysphoria, self harm, blood, intrusive thoughts, cursing, verbal abuse, etc.

He She had been thinking about things for awhile.

How he she viewed himself herself, how others must perceive him her, how he she wanted to be perceived. The perfect image, if you will.

He She was uncertain.

He She was standing in the mirror, viewing himself. Scanning himself herself up & down. Just as he she always looked. Long, neat & slightly wavy hair swept to one side & let down. A white long sleeved & collared dress shirt with a little neat black bow tied in the front of his her shirt collar, a long black a-line skirt with some tall black socks with some perfectly matching dress shoes with cute little buckles.

His Her horns were neat, well taken care of. A golden, glowing halo sat between them, hovering above them. His Her wings were preened, folded behind his her back & well kept aswell. A pair of rounded, golden glasses sat on his her face, highlighting his her golden eyes.

He She was a well put together & pretty little thing, fair & tall, with anything a deity could want. Wings, a respectable status & title, & a gear that could kill. Yet, he she looked at himself herself & could only feel...

Sorrow.

He She didn't like how he she looked, at all. Infact, he she despised it.

He She brought a clawed hand up to his her face, tearing into the flesh. Disgusting, scarlet blood leaked out. Not golden, luscious & of power- but scarlet. As if the deity of death were a mere mortal.

He She dug in more, his her flesh ripping apart like butter, & his her claws were spreading it apart. He She wanted to reshape his her face into something better, something he she could be happy with, something-

Something that made him her look like the man he she really was.

She He paused. No... wait.

Had suddenly everything she he had felt before become invalid? She He or was he always this way, & she he didn't know it? Another fear, what would her his siblings think?

"You're a girl, Ghostwalker, & you always will be. Stop tryna say you're different!"

"Are you seriously going to betray me, just like that? What about girls sticking together? I was fine with Illumina transitioning, but you? I'm disappointed."

She He was terrified. They wouldn't accept her him. They would hate her him- they would throw him away & make someone take her his place, because she he wasn't good enough.

She He caught another glimpse of herself himself in the mirror. How disgustingly feminine she he looked.

Her His hair, her his clothes, her his-

Her His hair.

She He tugged & pulled, yanking on her his hair. Yanking on the hair that took her him years, maybe even over a decade to grow out. She He hated it. She He hated it so much.

There was a pair of scissors on a desk beside the mirror. Her His eyes trailed over, locking onto them.

She He scrambled, her his clawed hands desperately grabbing them, bringing them to her his long, white locks &-

Cutting it all off.

It didn't look the greatest, but it looked alot better then before. Well, to him atleast.

He was shaking, staring at himself in the mirror. At his shortened hair, at his torn up & cut up skirt. He... was definitely going to need to start wearing something else.

Maybe he'd find himself in the process too. Who knows what he would discover, he'd shunned himself & been up in the air for eons... he was excited to learn, excited to figure things out!

But not right now. He wasn't ready to come out of come out of his room yet.

[sweetlittlevampire]

I’m feeling sick to my stomach. Like, physically.

I lost my grandmother today, and I’ve been taking it relatively well (as well as you can possibly take it when someone passes), but combine that with the US news, and the government in my own country pulling nonsensical Covid-stuff that will probably make the situation worse again -

I’m tired. I’m so tired. I want to sleep.

At the same time, I don’t want to sleep, because there’s this dread that, when I wake up, the world isn’t going to be there anymore, and I didn’t do enough to prevent it from happening because I slept through it.

[peanutbutterandhunny]

Had a relative pass away from Covid this morning and a couple more in the same household are currently dying from it in their house because hospitals are overrun. This is still happening and you can't just pretend it out of existence