#How cruel how heartbreaking the monster buries her heart when it could be her only salvation- | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

chickensarentcheap · 4 years ago

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Never Gonna Be Alone- Chapter 33

Title: Help

Warnings: none

Tagging: @c-a-v-a-l-r-y, @innerpaperexpertcloud, @alievans007, @miss-smutty, @tragiclyhip

She stands in the sunroom; watching the activity outside as a mug of whiskey infused hot chocolate wars the palms of her hands. The chapped and flushed cheeks of Declan and Tanner; their conversation rapid and excited as they team up to bury Takota in the snow. The four year old on his back in the middle of the yard; already covered to his armpits and giggling hysterically as his brothers continue to cover him in a deep and heavy blanket of white. Addie and Brooklyn both weighed down in their bulky snow boots and layers of winter wear, lounging in the middle of a plastic sled; mittened hands wildly gesturing as they both girls bark orders at their father and oldest brother. TJ listens intently; lips pursed together and his blue eyes a striking contrast against the black of both his jacket and the beanie pulled low onto his forehead. Giving a small smirk and an incredulous shake of the head before returning to the task at hand; constructing one of several snow mounds dotting the backyard that the two girls have been using to sled down. Tyler looms over them with his hands planted firmly on his hips and a grin tugging at the corners of his mouth; seeming monstrous in size compared to his tiny charges attempting to boss him around. All long legs and torso and wide shoulders; the sleeves of a once baggy and ill fitting snowboarding jacket now tight across the back and chest and around his biceps.

He’s put on fifteen pounds in the last year alone; solid muscle concentrated solely in the upper body. It had been a struggle after the incident five years ago; finding it easy to put extra weight on, but not actually keep it there. Throwing himself into a high calorie and protein diet and a faithful and rigid workout routine; two hours in the morning, an hour and a half in the evening, six days a week. Desperate to repair his body and get some semblance of his old self back; directly tying his abilities and skills to his size and finding his confidence waning when he just couldn’t seem to make any REAL progress. It had been the one thing he could rely on for years; punishing his body in the gym and seeing legitimate results in not only his physique, but in the increasingly brutal and efficient way he could handle his opponents. So it had been a blow to his ego when recovery hadn’t gone according to plan. Setbacks with his right knee keeping him out of the gym even longer than he’d hoped, then not able to push himself like he was accustomed to once he WAS given the green light to totally commit.

It’s a hard pill to swallow; seeing yourself as nothing more than a remnant...a shell...of the person you’d been before your entire world had been turned upside down. Nathan had taken so much for him that he’d been desperate to get even the smallest bits and pieces back; relying on his body to return to normal because he knew his mind never would. It had been disheartening for both of them; Tyler’s frustration in his lack of progress turning into irritability and anger that he would unfortunately project onto the people closest to him. She had tried convincing him that he was doing much better than anyone -even the team of specialists that had first cared for him in Dhaka- had ever expected him to. Constantly pointing out that it was a marathon, not a sprint; he had years ahead of him to get to where he wanted and there was no reason to punish his body and rush things and take the risk of injuring himself even further. Pointing out time and time again that even though his life had been spared, he had been dangerously close to not only losing his leg, but quite possibly never walking again. The operation could have easily failed. The bullet shifting and severing his spinal cord before surgeons could even open him up, or even the smallest of slips while on the table causing instant paralysis.

For a few days, all of her reasonings and her explanations would be enough to see him through. His confidence uplifted and ignited; growing stronger every time she assured him that she loved him and desired him in ways that she’d never felt for anyone else before. She didn’t care what he looked like; muscles or no muscles, thin or thick. He was alive and he WAS thriving despite the negative ways he saw himself. He WAS progressing and he’d continue to do so, and shouldn’t get discouraged or feel as if he was a failure and that he never got back to where he was before. But then his brain would launch an attack against him; those cruel whispers of degradation that always seemed to overrule all of the praise and the compliments that she heaped upon him. His weakened and vulnerable mind preying on him; reminding him of all his past mistakes and the broken promises and telling him that he WAS a monster. A man who’d left his dying son because he’d been too afraid to watch his boy’s suffering and eventual demise. Who’d lied to his wife and gone back into the job at a time when she’d needed him the most; heavily pregnant with twin sons, one of them battling the odds even in utero and there being no guarantee that he’d survive once he was brought into the world. A husband that had been so afraid of being a failure as a father and a spouse that he’d sought an escape; easily slipping back into alcoholism and drug addiction as a means of coping. All the hangovers that had seen him unable to get out of bed on birthdays; missing school plays and meet the teacher nights and even forgetting his own third wedding anniversary because he’d simply been too damn drunk and stoned. His mental illness reminding him of the arguments they’d had during that time; the holes he’d punched in walls, the times he’d grabbed her by the arms or shoulders and left bruises behind, all the horrible and hurtful things that he’d said to her. The heartbreak that he’d caused her and the tears that he’d caused her to shed; kicked out of his own home when it simply became too much for her to bear and she refused to allow him and his behaviour around their three children.

Despite always being easy to love, there’s been times he hasn’t been an easy person to live with. When she’d tired of the constant battle against the ghosts and the demons of his past; feeling as if her love for him and her loyalty were simply never enough. As if it were something SHE lacked. Was she not trying hard enough? Was she not showing how much she loved him in the ways she thought she was? Was she HERSELF not enough for him? Or was she simply lacking the strength and the patience and necessary skills and knowledge to be the wife that he wanted AND needed.

Therapy had made her realize that it was -and likely never would be- about her. The guilt and the grief and the regret so powerful and all consuming that he simply couldn’t get past all of it. At least not on his own. His ferocious level of independence and stubbornness creating a wedge between them; his worries that he was burdening her and that she would see him as weak and vulnerable causing him to draw even further into himself. It wasn’t that he couldn’t trust her; he loved her with a passion and intensity that he had confessed to never feeling before, and knew that both his heart, mind, body, and LIFE were safe with her. He simply couldn’t trust himself; the fear that he wouldn’t be the man that she needed, wanted, and deserved. He was terrified of failing her and his children; not living up to their expectations causing him to seek out the old habits and vices as a form of escape.

Despite previous attempts at marriage counselling, it hadn’t been until Doctor Klein had been thrust into their lives that they began seeing the light at the end of the tunnel. They were BOTH mentally exhausted; tired or doing constant battle with the mistakes of their past and worn out from carrying so much baggage on their own. Finally someone was making the effort and taking the time to work with BOTH of them; separately and together. Forcing them to confront not only the most painful and traumatizing events during their childhoods and adult lives, but the things that they didn’t particularly like about each other. Habits that were annoying, behaviour that was impossible to look past or accept, things they would do that unknowingly and unintentionally hurt the other.

Once they were able to open up about those things, everything else seemed to come so much easier; suddenly able to create lists of the things they admired and loved most about one another, the big -and little- things that initially attracted them to each other, their shared hopes and dreams as husband and wife. Acknowledging the individual abuse and the hurt of the past had been the key to actually being able to see a bright future TOGETHER. Being able to own up to their own mistakes had been what they’d desperately needed; the courage to apologize for the times they’d wounded one another, whether intentional or not.

While it had solved their initial issues and helped make their bond and their love and respect for each other much stronger, they’d agreed to continue with the therapy. Finding it helpful in ways they’d never thought of or expected. Teaching them how to keep the lines of communication open; rationally and logically dealing with problems that arose instead of letting their tempers and feelings take over. Actually hearing what the other is saying as opposed to just listening and waiting for the chance to respond. Reminding them just being husband and wife wasn’t enough; their relationship and their bond extending far beyond spouses and two people raising children together. They had to take the time and make the effort; nurture their relationship and rediscover the magic and the romance and not just rely on lust as the foundation to further build things on. They had to acknowledge what other roles they played in each other’s lives; one other’s confidants and keeper of one another’s secrets and companions and best friends. Date nights and those walks on the beach and the conversations that accompanied them being the two things to concentrate on; taking advantage of every possible opportunity to be alone and then savouring every minute of it.

“Woo her like you’re still trying to win her. And never stop doing that,” Doctor Klein had stressed during one visit. And while they’d both laughed about it at the time, it had in fact turned out some of the best advice they’d ever been given. Tyler wholeheartedly throwing himself into the practice; enjoying spoiling her -whether it be expensive and elaborate things, or something so small and meaningful- and developing those little ideas and moments of romance that she enjoyed the most. Staying sincere with his compliments and his praises and his devotions of adoring; never failing to say ‘I love you’ before bed or every time he walked out the door. Coming up with the idea of ‘mummy and daddy’ getaways; whether it was their road trips while the kids were in school or weekends away to the long refurbished ‘cabin’ in The Kimberley, or the seven to fourteen day vacations they’d take twice a year.

The old adage ‘actions speak louder than words’ soon proved to be true. Once he began putting in real effort and showing her that she came before the business and anything to do with the job, things began to change. He became more attentive and affectionate as a husband; determined to be the man that she needed, wanted, AND deserved. Once telling her that his primary goal was to “treat her great and dick her down even better.” Wanting to be the guy that made her forget about everyone else that came before him. Determined to make sure that she would never, EVER, want anyone other than him.

She watches him now. That grin playing on his lips as Addie and Brooklyn attempt to boss him around and the way he teases them in return; their squeals and shrieks when he playfully kicks snow in their direction and they respond by lobbing handfuls at his legs. The weather is cold and crisp; turning his cheeks and the tips of his ears red. Errants flakes gather on the shoulders of his jacket and in his hair; the darker tresses and the fuller, thicker beard a striking contrast against a landscape of pure, almost blinding white. Despite the drama of the night before -both involving her mother and his confession about the worsening issues with his eyesight- he looks healthy and relaxed for the first time since returning from Cambodia. The smile he gives his two littlest girls is genuine, and she knows that behind the lenses of the simple aviator sunglasses he sports, the corners of his have crinkled in a mixture of happiness and amusement.

The presence of the shades is disheartening; the sun not big enough of a threat to cause too much of a glare off the snow. It isn’t as blinding and bothersome as normal, and the sunglasses serve as a reminder that things aren’t going as well as they seem. His eye bothering him more than he’s willing to acknowledge; trying his best to downplay the seriousness and to put on a brave and happy face for her and the kids.

****

“Big E!” Desi calls from the kitchen, nursing his own whiskey and hot chocolate combination as he tends to packing away the ridiculous amount of brunch leftovers. “We’re runnin’ out of storage options around here. And there’s a lot more to go.”

She tears herself away from the window. The longer she watches, the heavier the worry and ache in her heart become. Nothing good ever comes out of dwelling; long ago learning that all the fretting in the world never changes the present, or the outcome of a situation. But it’s a difficult and bitter pill to swallow; the person you love constantly having to struggle and fight when they deserve nothing more than physical rest and mental peace. Tyler long ago made amends. Nearly losing his life on the Sultana Kamal Bridge and the months of painful and arduous healing his repentance for past misdeeds. He’d been a different person then; haunted and broken and desperate to escape the enormous amounts of grief, regret, and self loathing that were weighing him down.

When he talks about those dark and desolate times in his life, he always mentions that he’d been too much of a coward to take his own life; chickening out of pulling the trigger himself and hoping and praying with every job he took that a sniper would do it for him. She prefers to look at it a different way. Telling him that it was strength and courage that kept him from issuing a permanent solution to a temporary problem. And that maybe...just maybe….a voice deep inside of him was telling him he needed to stick around; something or someone was out there that would come along and help ease his burdens and make him feel alive again. He always smiles when she says it; that sweet, thoughtful smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes but is testament to all the love and awe that he possesses for him. Cradling her face in his palms; thumbs grazing across the tops of her cheeks before he presses a long, lingering kiss to her forehead.

Love doesn’t always need words. Sometimes, it’s better communicated through touch. The beauty and simplicity behind each movement never failing to take her breath away.

“Lots left,” Desi laments, an arm sweeping over the island and gesturing towards the enormous spread of leftover food. “Tons. Way too much. I know you got a small army to feed, but…”

“You’d be surprised how much those kids can actually put away. Especially TJ and Declan. And I know Brookie is tall as hell and practically skin and bones, but there’s days she eats like a grown man. I just look at food and it goes straight to hips and my ass. My kids? Fast metabolisms. And they did NOT get that from me.”

“Why you complaining about your hips and your ass? They look fine to me. Not that I make it a habit of looking. Just every once in a while, I risk a peek. You got some junk in the junk, girl. And it’s all good junk.”

“Don’t be too sure it’s all good. You’ve never seen me with my clothes off.”

“Sadly, no. But it is on my bucket list.”

“Be careful what you wish for. Trust me, you’d have nightmares.” Taking a swallow of hot chocolate, she grimaces at the strength of the whiskey and then wanders into the pantry. Locating an unopened box of plastic food storage containers on the far wall, she has to climb in order to reach them; easily navigating the first two shelves and giving a tiny shriek of victory when she manages to grab a hold of the sought after items.

“I think you’re too hard on yourself,” Desi says when she rejoins him. “You’re not just all pretty little packaging. I’m sure the item itself is in damn good condition. I notice your hot as fuck as husband doesn’t have eyes for anyone else.”

“He’s the most biased man on earth and fiercely loyal. Trust me, things are a mess. And not a hot one either. I’ve had seven kids, Des. Do you know what one baby does to your body, never mind seven? Not to mention I’ve carried two inside of me. Twice. And I squeezed out a ten and a half pounder. Naturally. My hips and my vagina have never been the same. Things do not look like they used to, believe me.”

“Your husband begs to differ. I know I shouldn’t be telling tales out of school, but he’s pretty crazy about you. A damn fool in love, as my grandmother used to say. My folks were married for almost sixty years, and up until his very last day on this earth, my dad was looking at my mom like she was the most beautiful woman in the entire universe. That’s how your man looks at you. Like no other woman exists. I just mention your name or you just walk in the room and it’s all in his face; that little smile he gets, the way his eyes light up. And it’s damn beautiful. Seeing a man love his woman that much. He ain’t even afraid to show it. He doesn’t give a shit who notices it. He’s proud of it. Proud of YOU. That of all the guys in the world, you chose him.”

Smiling, she snags a knife from the butcher block and uses it to slice open the seal on the box. “I would choose him a million times over. In a million different lifetimes, in a million different ways, I’d choose him. I would find him, and I would choose him. No one else exists. Just Tyler. And no one else ever will.”

“And that’s why things work so well. Between the two of you. Neither of you give a shit about anyone else. Thirsty moms on the playground? Guys grabbing your ass at the grocery store…”

Esme smirks. “He told you about that?”

“That and the guy who followed you home from the post office.”

“Both those things happened YEARS ago. He needs to get a grip. I mean, the whole possessive thing CAN be charming, but he tends to go a little overboard. I don’t know if he’s just insanely protective or if he’s more self conscious than I realize or…”

“It’s because he loves you. It’s got nothing to do with being self conscious or protective. Maybe it has a little do with possession; you’re his wife and the mother of his kids and he sees you as his. SOLELY his. And he doesn’t like the idea of anyone or anything threatening that fact.”

“So he doesn’t trust me is what you’re saying.”

“Not what I’m saying at all, Big E. He trusts you. Trusts you with his heart, his life, his kids’ lives. He worries about what other people are capable of. Doesn’t like them getting too close to you. I think he’s got a reason to worry about stuff like that. Considering his past and all the people he’s pissed off. And let’s not pretend you’ve got the cleanest track record, you’ve burnt a lot of bridges and stepped out on a lot of toes too. Pissed off the wrong people.”

“I’ve been out of the game long enough that there’s no one looking for me. As far as a lot of them are concerned, I died on that bridge thirteen years ago. That’s what they’ve been led to believe at least.”

“I think he’s got all the reasons in the world to worry. To be as protective as he is. You’re his everything. The center of his universe. You’re precious to him. And he doesn’t want anything or anyone messing with that.”

A grin tugs at the corners of her mouth as she spoons left over frittata into one several of the containers. “Boy, you two talk a lot more than I ever realized. You know how rare that is, right? Tyler opening up like that? Especially when he’s sober. He has been, hasn’t he? Sober?”

“Of course he has. Quit that shit a long time ago. Didn’t he? Knock that off? The drinking?”

“He’s had his moments lately,” she admits. “But that’s to be expected. I mean, once an alcoholic, always an alcoholic, right? It never disappears. There’s always that threat. The temptation will always be around. You just have to hope that he doesn’t fall for it.”

“You have reason to believe he will? Fall for it?”

“He’s struggling.” It’s painful to admit out loud. And feels almost as if it’s a betrayal; talking about things that go on behind closed doors and have little to no importance in the lives of others. But it’s a heavy weight to carry; the fear and the worry and uncertainty. “With a lot of things. He’s been having a little bit of a crisis.”

Both Desi’s brows shoot up. “He’s having one or he’s IN one?”

“I don’t know, Des. I’m not entirely sure. All I DO know is that going to Laos and Cambodia was the worst thing he ever could have done. There’s things he heard when he was there that hit a little too close to home. Things involving women and children. And they bothered him a lot more than he thought they would. He’s having a hard time letting them go.”

“They set things off? With the bipolar?”

She nods. “It started the first night home. Trouble sleeping, his anxiety acting up more than usual, dwelling on things that are beyond his control and will likely never...EVER...happen. He’s having nightmares and waking up in the middle of panic attacks. And he hasn’t been THAT bad in a long time. It’s been three years since he’s had a dream about what happened the last time we were in Dhaka. Now he’s had them every night for eight days. Sometimes two or three times a night.”

“And there’s nothing that can be done? No meds he can take or…?”

“He’s taking all the meds he possibly can and still function normally. I don’t know if his body has just gotten used to them and he needs to go onto new ones or maybe he just needs higher doses of what he’s already on. And we can’t do any of that until we get home and see the doctor. So in the meantime, he struggles. And tries to fix things the only way he knows how.”

“He been drinking:?”

“He called me while he was gone. Said he drank half a bottle of Scotch. Admitted that he felt like utter shit about it, but still wanted to drink more. He didn’t think he could cope without it. Took me three hours to talk him down. To convince him NOT to get shit faced. And I reminded him; I’m not going to live with someone like that and neither are my kids. I meant what I said five years ago; he stays clean and sober or we’re gone. Believe me, that is the last thing he wants. And it’s the last thing I want. I don’t want to leave him. I don’t want to take his kids from him. I don’t want to break his heart or theirs. Or my own for that matter. But I can’t do it; I can’t live with him when he’s like that. I tried.”

“It’s a hard thing; dealing with someone with addiction issues. Saw it in my own family a couple times. They tried to get things together but it just got to be too much. Can’t help someone that isn’t willing to help themselves, know what I’m saying?”

“When he fell off the wagon in Colorado, I tried so hard to hold shit together. The kids were just little. Millie had just started pre-school and Tanner and TJ were still in the toddler stage. I hadn’t even gotten pregnant with Declan yet. He wasn’t even a twinkle in my eye. I’d had the miscarriage and Tyler held it together for the first few months afterwards and then just...I don’t know...it just went bad. So bad.”

“Probably broke him a lot more than he let on. Losing a baby like that.”

“And back then? We weren’t anywhere close to where we are now. Now we get through things together; he doesn’t shut himself down and try to handle shit on his own. We’ve learned how to communicate; logically and rationally and without freaking out and saying shit that will hurt one another. But back then? He was a mess. We BOTH were. And I thought I could live with him and his issues. I put it up with the hangovers and the drunken rages and heartbroken kids because he couldn’t get out of bed on their birthdays. Or the time he missed Christmas because he was on a four day bender in Guadalajara and couldn’t he even be bothered to answer his phone or text me back. I held in as long as I could. I guess I thought I could change him. Instead, I gave up and kicked his ass out. I won’t go through all of that again. No matter how much I love him. I just can’t.”

“Love can’t fix everything, Big E. It just can’t. And sometimes it ISN’T enough. No matter how much we want it to be.”

“And I do. I DO love him. More than I ever thought I could possibly love another human being. We’ve made seven children together and we have this incredible life in the most beautiful and perfect of places and we’re happy. HE’S happy. But…” her voice quivers with emotion. “...I can’t live like that. If he goes back to the drinking. I won’t have kids around that. I refuse. I love him, but I need to love me and my children more. And if I have to go…”

“Don’t get that far ahead of yourself. You don’t know that things are headed in that direction. People slip. It happens. And normally they slip more than once. Doesn’t mean he’s going to switch back to being the guy he used to be. He doesn’t want that. He doesn’t want to be THAT guy. That’s a man that loves his family beyond all comprehension. He’s not going to fuck things up and lose everything and everyone that means something to him.”

“It just puts me on edge, you know?” Snapping the last container closed, she slides it across the granite and then turns to lean back against the edge of the countertop; arms crossed over her chest and fingers reaching up to clear wayward tears off her cheeks. “Because we’ve been through this. Not just slips, but full out train wrecks. Where he’s gone back to the drinking and the pain meds and everything just imploded. We spent six months apart. Half a year of waiting for him to get his shit together and fight for his family. And then five years ago he had a setback; booze AND pain meds. We somehow managed to get through that too. Mind you, he almost died and that put a quick end to things and we never had to actually deal with them.”

“And you’ll get through it this time,” Desi assures her. “If there IS a ‘this time’.”

“I don’t know how much more I can take. How much more I can worry and stress myself out. Because let’s face it, I’ve got my own issues and the longer I keep putting them off? What if they get past the point of being able to do anything about them? I won’t be of any use to ANYONE then, will I. My husband will suffer, my kids will suffer…”

Desi sidles up beside her, palms on the countertop behind him and one ankle crossed over the other. “Do you ever tell him about those things? The stuff that is going on with you?”

“He knows I have depression. That I most likely have PTSD. I mean, he lives with me. We’ve shared a home and a bed for the past twelve and a half years. Who’s the one that has to hold down the fort and take care of the kids when I’m too depressed to even get out of bed?”

“But does he know how bad it’s been LATELY. I’m not talking about the past. I’m talking about RIGHT NOW.”

“Trust me, it is not a good time to be talking about any of that.”

“You’re his wife. It’s always a good time.”

“Tyler can’t handle my stuff on top of his. He has limits. And I know when he shouldn’t test them. He doesn’t need my crap dumped onto him. Besides, I’m always like this at Christmas. I’m always extra neurotic and anxious and…”

Dropping his chin into his chest, Desi stares at her pointedly.

“Okay, maybe I’m not THIS extra neurotic and anxious. And yes, I’m having a rough time. And I’ve been having a rough time for a couple months now. But I’m dealing with it. I’m handling it. On my own. Tyler doesn’t need to know.”

“Esme…”

“He DOESN’T need to know,” she stresses. “And you won’t tell him. Tell me you won’t tell him. PROMISE me.”

Desi sighs. “Big E…”

“Nothing good will come of you telling him. You know what will happen? He’ll blame himself. He’ll say that he’s the reason I have the issues that I do. I know him, Des. Better than he knows himself. And he will internalize everything and he will blame himself and then all that guilt and regret will creep up and it will eat away at him. Until it makes things so much worse. Don’t do that; make things worse for him.”

He scowls. “Don’t YOU do that. Don’t guilt trip me.”

“I’m not trying to guilt you. I am trying to protect my husband. He is this close…” she holds her thumb and forefinger an inch apart. “...to going into a real, legit, crisis and I do not want that happening. That’s why I am asking you...no, I’m begging you...not to tell him. Let me at least help him get his issues settled before I dump mine into his lap. That’s all I’m asking. Some time. To help him get past what’s going on with him.”

“I won’t say anything,” Desi assures her. “But you have to promise that you WILL tell him. When things get settled. Promise me that you won’t let this go. That once he’s got his issues squared away, you let him know what’s going on. Because he’s damn good at shelving his shit to take care of you. And he deserves to help YOU for a change.”

“I WILL tell him,” she promises. “I just need time. To help get through his shit. Once we’re home and he’s seen the doctor and things are figured out, I WILL talk to him.”

“Good.” Draping an arm across her shoulders, he pulls her into him; lips meeting her temple in a loud, resounding smack. “You know, for a tiny little thing? You’re strong. And fierce. So damn fierce.”

“Do you really think Tyler would have wanted me if I wasn’t? Could you honestly see him with a weak woman? Someone meek and mild and submissive?”

“Nope. He needs a woman that stands her ground. Not someone that will just bend and back down. Someone that can handle the life and everything that comes with it. Someone that can handle HIM. And you? You just hang in there and keep going. You don’t give up on him. No matter how hard he makes things sometimes.”

“I love him. And he’s worth it. All the hard work, all the tough times, all the tears, all the worry. He’s worth it. He always HAS been.”

“And not many women would have seen that. That he WAS worth it. You probably saw what no one else did. And I bet he’s damn thankful for that.”

“Most days I think he is,” she smiles. “Other days I drive him batshit insane and I’m sure he wants to strangle me. And not in the fun, sexy way either.”

A slow grin spreads across Desi’s face. “You’re into that sort of thing, huh? Little thing like you?”

“I’m into a lot of things people think I wouldn’t be into. But yeah, we indulge. A lot. In the rougher side of things.”

“How does he not break you in half? Or snap your neck? I’ve seen the size of hands. And I mean, he’s KILLED people with them..”

“He knows what he’s doing. I highly doubt he’s choking me in the same way he’s strangled bad guys. It’s a little different, Des. The technique. And I trust him. He wouldn’t do anything to put me in danger. Or anything I wasn’t comfortable with.”

“Well I know he’s good at what he does. The walls are pretty thin, you know. How do you think I knew his first name before introductions were ever made?”

A blush creeps into her cheeks and settles at the tips of her ears, and giving an embarrassed laugh, puts a hand over her face. “I can be a little...loud.”

“You don’t say. Now I have to ask, you being loud? Is that a legit thing or are you just trying to stroke his ego or…?”

“No, it’s legit. It’s as real as it gets. And not to feed into your fantasies about him, but my husband is very talented. Very skilled. In many ways. With many body parts. In almost thirteen years, I have never ONCE had to fake it with him. Before I met Tyler, I thought the g-spot and squirting were both bullshit. Oh no, they are very real. And he proved it. Those first five days were a real eye opener. I learned A LOT.”

Desi gives a slow nod of approval. “That’s my boy. I could tell you know. First time we all met. I knew just by looking at him. That that was a man who knew what he was doing. In the bedroom.”

“Bold of you to assume we keep things in the bedroom. That’s actually our least used spot.”

Frowning, he casts a glance over his shoulder. “Should I be watching where I put my hands or…?”

“You’re safe. We haven’t christened the kitchen. At least not the kitchen like it is now. But when we first bought the place? When we knew we were going to gut it and reno it and we came out for a week to figure out what we wanted to do with everything? We DEFINITELY christened it then.”

“You two are dirty, you know that?” He nudges her playfully with his elbow. “Desmond Brownell approves. So for curiosity’s sake, what’s the most used room in the house?”

“I don’t know. Back home, it’s definitely the laundry room, Tyler’s office, and the gym. If we’re talking about here, it’s a toss up; between the living room and the gym.”

“Gym I can definitely understand. Getting all hot and bothered while he’s in there doing his thing. He’s all sweaty, muscles are bulging and glistening and…” Desi sighs dreamily. “....I don’t blame you one bit.”

“I do NOT need to hear about your sexual fantasies involving my husband. I have enough of my own, believe me.”

“Yeah but you get to live yours out. Me? I get to use my imagination. And the noises you make.”

“Oh my god…” she groans, and covers her face with both hands. “...I am NEVER making noise EVER again. Tyler is going to be so disappointed. He says the noises are the biggest turn on. Lets him know he’s doing a good job. From now on, I’m just going to lie there and be very, very quiet.”

“Don’t quit on my behalf. I’m with him. It IS a turn on. I know what it does for me personally and I’m all the way next door.”

“Desi…” she laughs into her palms. “...goddamnit...I don’t need to hear this! I don’t need to know that you...you know...while Tyler and I are….you know….”

He chuckles and playfully ruffles her hair. “What are you so embarrassed about? We’re all adults here. How can you be embarrassed about THAT? Especially when you just admitted you like being choked and earlier you told me that last night you took it up the…”

“Stop! Please stop. I can’t talk about this. I shouldn’t be talking about it. Especially about that last thing. I can talk about it with him, but with other people? No. Just no.”

“What’s so wrong about talking about it? Or enjoying it? You ask me, you’re damn brave. I’ve seen him in those sweatpants. I see what he’s going on down under. And for you do THAT? Twice? No wonder you’re walking funny.”

“Oh God…” Esme laughs even harder; snorting into her palms before moving them away from her face. “...I can’t believe I’m the type of woman that enjoys that sort of thing. I swore I would never, EVER, let a man even think about it, never mind try it. And now here I am, making it a common thing.”

“A common thing? You serious right now? It’s common?”

“Almost as common as normal sex. Holy shit…” she giggles and brushes tears of amusement and embarrassment from her cheeks. “...third day into Dhaka and I was giving it up. I was letting him go where no man ever had gone before.”

“Only three days in? What…?”

“I actually ASKED him to do it. I have no self control when it comes to him. I never have. I wanted to text him for a booty call the first night I met him. I almost banged him before we even got right into Dhaka. What’s happened to me? How did I become this person? How did I go from little to no sexual experience to this?”

“You got really good dick is what happened to you. Still as good as it was back then?”

“Still as good. If not better. He’s like a fine wine; gets better with age. Do NOT tell him we talked about this. He won’t be embarrassed, but he will be insanely proud of himself and it will feed his ego and I’ll never hear the end of it. Especially the butt stuff. He will use that against me and I will never, ever, walk right again.”

“Your secret's safe with me,” Desi assures her. “It’s true; the little ones are the kinkiest and dirty ones.”

“Holy shit…” she reaches for her long abandoned mug of hot chocolate and downs the remains. “...it feels good to laugh like this. To talk about things like this for a change. Can you believe we’ve been like this since day one? Just constantly horny for each other? What is wrong with us?”

“Nothing. You’re both damn lucky as far as I’m concerned. Almost thirteen years and still lusting after each other like that? That’s a good sign. You know that, right?”

She nods. “He’s amazing. And not just in that way. In EVERY way. He’s my heart.”

“Does a number on your loins too, apparently,” Desi teases.

“He’s just...I don’t know....he’s just my whole world. None of this...my children, an incredible life here and in Australia...wouldn’t exist if it wasn’t for him. Everything changed when I met Tyler. I changed. I became a whole different person. I’m stronger and more resilient and I’m happy. And I hadn’t been happy in a hell of a long time. So when he struggles and I can’t help him or fix things…” she sighs and tucks her hair behind her ears. “...I feel lost. I feel helpless. Because I want it to be enough; how much I love him. And I know it isn’t. That it doesn’t work that way.”

“He’s going to be alright,” Desi assures her. “He’s made of tough stuff. He’s gotten through worse. A HELL of a lot worse.”

“He has. And that’s what I keep reminding myself. What he HAS been through and how far he HAS come. Because as strong and resilient as I am? I don’t want to do this life without him. HE IS this life. And if suddenly he wasn’t here any more…”

“Let’s not even go that way.” He tightens his hold on her and draws her into his side, a palm squeezing her shoulder. “Nothing good will come of going there.”

“He has to be okay. I NEED him to be okay. And I’ll do whatever it takes to help him get there..”

“Sometimes that means helping yourself too, you know. Helping him means getting YOUR shit taken care of. So you CAN help him. Am I making any sense?”

She nods.

“Everything’s going to be okay, Big E,” he drops a kiss on the top of her head. “There’s NOTHING you guys can’t through.”

#Tyler Rake #Tyler Rake fan fiction #Extraction fan fiction

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thornedrose44 · 4 years ago

Text

Our Love Is Not Fickle

TW: Facial Scar

Read on: AO3

“Honestly, the worst thing you can do is stare.” Lena snapped, turning her head away from the superhero shifting uncomfortably in the doorway.

“Lena.” Kara breathed, her voice cracking in that way Lena loathed.

It was a crack of sympathy, of heartbreak, of… of… pity.

Lena was so fucking tired of being pitied.

“Don’t.” Lena ordered coldly, despising how weak the command sounded when issued from a hospital bed. “I don’t… I don’t want to hear fucking platitudes. I don’t want to hear that everything will get better. I don’t want to hear that it could have been worse. I don’t… I don’t…”

She wanted to keep going but the words caught in her throat as she lost the embittered war to the choked sobs she had been fighting so desperately to hold back.

Kara was by her side faster than humanly possible, sitting on the edge of the bed and pulling the raven-haired woman gently into her arms, holding her close and pressing tender kisses to the top of her head.

“I know it's pathetic and ungrateful…” Lena hiccuped, clutching at Kara like she was the only safe harbour in sight after a month-long storm.

“No, Lena… no…” Kara refuted, shaking her head firmly as she stroked Lena’s back trying to soothe her like her mother did when she was a child still afraid of monsters under the bed. “It’s not, you’re not, I promise.”

“I know I should just be grateful-”

“You get to feel however you want. No one gets to tell you otherwise, okay?” Kara insisted.

“I just…” Lena sobbed, as she buried her face into Kara’s shoulder, never wanting to see the light of day ever again.

“Take your time, zhao.” Kara murmured, “Take your time.”

It was as if Lena had been waiting for permission, because as soon as she was given it, her sobs increased in fervour.

She cried and cried and cried until she had nothing left to give.

At some point Kara had carefully arranged them both so they were lying down on the hospital bed; Kara on her back with Lena held close to her chest whilst she combed Lena’s hair with her fingers, intermittently scratching her scalp to steadily ease away the coiled tension within the raven-haired woman.

Once Lena was drained of tears, she was merely left feeling numb and disconnected. She slowly shifted out of Kara’s embrace and into the empty space at her side, quickly burying the right side of her face into the pillow. Kara let her go without a fight, not wanting Lena to feel restrained or stifled, though it was clear from the downturn to the corner of her mouth that she was displeased with the sudden lack of physical contact between them.

Silence settled over them as Lena took a sweet minute to admire Kara’s features, golden and sublime.

“I would understand, you know…” Lena muttered, painfully neutral.

Kara tilted her head to the side, the little crinkle between her eyebrows appearing that Lena normally could never resist reaching out to lightly touch, “Understand, what?”

“If…” Lena cleared her throat and hardened her heart, “if this changed things for you.”

Kara’s entire face went blank, void of everything except for the clench of her jaw, “I don’t understand… at least I really hope I don’t understand.”

Lena took a deep breath, ready to break her own heart, “I know you’re not with me purely for my looks, I know that-”

“Do you?” Kara exclaimed with a deep frown that looked so out of place occupying the place where a beaming grin should’ve been, “Because it doesn’t sound like you do for you to even be suggesting that I-”

“Let’s be real here, Kara… we both know how out of my league you are.” Lena declared sharply.

“You can’t be serious.” Kara said disbelievingly with a distraught shake of her head, “Lena, you can’t genuinely think that I would abandon you because of this?”

“No, you’re too noble.” Lena agreed, “I know that. That’s why I’m giving you an out. I won’t tell anyone,” Lena promised, “just go. We both know you want to.”

“No!” Kara yelled so vehemently that Lena jolted back in surprise, pulling the right side of her face away from the pillow. “I’m exactly where I want to be.” Kara’s right hand grabbed Lena’s hip ensuring they were connected, bound together beyond the glittering engagement rings on either of their fingers, “Where I always want to be. By your side.”

“For now…” Lena amended.

“Forever, Lena.” Kara corrected, her blue eyes watery with pain as she reached out with trembling fingers to the right hand-side of Lena’s face marred by a deep burn covered in see-through bandages, which extended from her jaw to her forehead. “This doesn’t change anything.” Kara whispered earnestly, as her fingertips caressed Lena’s scarred cheek.

“It changes everything!” Lena seethed, jerking away from Kara’s achingly soft touch, as her eyes burned with tears of self-loathing. “I have survived this long because of two things: my wealth and my looks. We both know it's true. The money bought me protection and my good looks bought me the benefit of the doubt. Because… I’m too pretty to be a monster, right?” Lena snarled, “Well, not anymore!”

“That’s enough.”

“Why?” Lena scoffed, “It’s true, we both know it. I wonder which publications will use the word ‘grotesque’ and which will use ‘horrifying’.” Lena chuckled dark and cruelly as she suggested flippantly, “Maybe we should start a betting pool.”

“Lena, no one is going to say that.” Kara defended, “You’re a hero, you saved so many lives-”

“Of course they’re going to say it.” Lena rejected, “Maybe not today, maybe not tomorrow. But they’ll say it. Everyone will. The kind ones will look away, the cruel will jeer and the malicious will take photos for profit whilst children will cry at the sight of a Luthor that finally looks just like the monster they always wanted me to be.”

“No, they won’t-”

“Yes, they will!”

“Lena-”

“You don’t even look at me the same!” Lena bellowed, her eyes going wide with regret the second she registered how her Kara looked like Lena had physically hit her with those words.

“Okay,” Kara exhaled slowly to keep her voice from shaking, “I think it’s my turn now.”

“Just leave already.” Lena shook her head in defeat and made to roll away from the blonde but was stopped by the gentle hand placed on her hip.

“No.” Kara refused, her tone hard as she struggled to keep herself in control, “You’ve had your chance to talk, now it's my turn. We are in a relationship and when I asked you to marry me, we made promises to each other.” Piercing blue eyes stared deep into green ones. “What were they?”

“Kara…” Lena groaned, rolling her eyes.

Kara didn’t budge, repeating her question belligerently, “What were they?”

Lena’s eyes dropped away, breathing deeply as she accepted that Kara was like a dog with a bone, she wouldn’t stop asking the question until she got the answer she wanted.

“No lies. No secrets. We always listen.” Lena murmured weakly, closing her eyes as she was flooded with the images of them both on their knees with rings in their hands and a commitment to give each other everything they needed for a happy ending.

“And?” Kara pushed, utterly unrelenting.

Lena pursed her lips, “The others aren’t really relevant right now…”

“I don’t care.” Kara demurred, repeating, “And?”

Lena’s lips twitched upwards for the first time since she looked in a mirror that day, “The last potsticker is always yours…”

“And?” Kara prodded.

“You’ll always kiss me first thing in the morning and last thing at night.” Lena whispered, the tears finally falling as she remembered making the request on the happiest day of her life.

“And?” Kara encouraged as she wiped the tears away with the light swipe of her thumb.

“I have to eat three full meals a day.” Lena laughed, thinking of all the times Kara had brought her lunch or dragged her away from work before six to ensure Lena never broke that promise.

“And?” Kara brightened considerably at the genuine sound of joy from the raven haired women.

Lena’s expression turned tender, “We always say ‘I love you’ whenever we have to leave each other.”

“Yeah.” Kara bent forward to place a kiss on Lena’s forehead in reward for perfect recitation, “Now it’s your turn to listen, okay?”

“Okay.” Lena merely nodded in acceptance as Kara shifted her hand from Lena’s hip to interlace their fingers.

“First,” Kara started, her voice firm and clear, “your wealth and good looks is not why you survived or what earned you the benefit of the doubt. It was your intellect and your kind heart, it was those two things working in tandem that made it possible for you to beat Lex time and time again.”

Lena's eyes flickered away, unconvinced. That was fine, though, because Kara was warming to the subject as she always did when it came to extolling her future wife’s achievements.

“That very first time, when you wore a wire to get evidence against him, what purpose did your wealth and looks serve?” Kara questioned, not requiring an answer before continuing, “It was your continued will to do good and be good that made it impossible for people not to trust you. It had absolutely nothing to do with your appearance and I find the assertion that it did, a very poor attempt to undermine all the tireless good work you have carried out over the years. And as an aside,” Kara paused, raising a challenging eyebrow at the raven haired woman, “you and I both know you could beat Lex without your fortune and both of your hands tied behind your back any day of the week.”

Lena merely shrugged but there was a more significant uptick to the corner of her lips now.

“Secondly, not a single newspaper, media outlet or blog would even consider writing a single disparaging comment about you or your scar after today. If they did, I’m pretty sure every single citizen in National City would hit the streets to protest and run them out of business before the end of the day. Thirdly,” Kara squeezed their joined hands as she lifted her chin defiantly, drawing on her Supergirl attitude as she asserted, “anyone - and I mean anyone - that makes you feel uncomfortable will have to answer to me.”

Lena looked up quickly at that, green eyes wide with shock, “Kara, you can’t-”

“I can and I will.” Kara declared, “Finally and by far the most important: I love you.”

Lena’s breath caught in her throat at those words, even now after over a year together, loving each other, it still surprised Lena to hear those three words from the woman she loved. It probably always would.

“I love you, all of you. My love is not dependent on your looks or attractiveness. I fell in love with you for a thousand and one different reasons and I swear to you Lena not a single one of them has been lost because of this.” Kara assured, stroking the side of Lena’s face, this time Lena didn’t flinch away, she leaned in to it. “Yes, I love your physical appearance but clearly not for the reasons you think. I love how your green eyes twinkle when you have a new idea. I love how you purse your lips a second before you laugh. I love how your eyes crinkle when you smile. I love how you arch an eyebrow just before you tease me. I love how you bite your lip when you think I’ve done something adorable. I love how you blink three times when you sneeze. I love how your nose scrunches when you’re confused.” Kara quirked her to the side thoughtfully, “Tell me Lena which one of those have been lost.”

Lena swallowed thickly as she answered honestly, “None.”

Kara kissed her then, sweet and ever so tender, pulling back to breathe out the contents of her heart, “Nothing has changed for me, Lena. Nothing. And it never will. Our love is not fickle. It is steady and strong. It has been built, brick by brick, by thousands of moments, actions and intimacies. It can’t be destroyed by any singular attack because it has no weak-spot and I promise you, zhao, it will withstand even the harshest of storms.”

#supercorp #kara danvers #lena luthor

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my-arlington-academia · 4 years ago

Text

Serandy and Olifael part 3: Nari’s horrible return

Hey I’m back! ... I’m sorry.

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

"S-Serena-senpai..."

Nari was looking away, her cheeks flushed from embarrassment. No matter how many steps back she took, Serena kept on getting closer and closer until she slammed her hand on the wall, next to Nari’s ear.

”Kyah! S-senpai! What’s going on?? Why are you being so violent with me?”

From Serena’s point of view this wasn’t violence. This was love. Oh Nari... you and your unstoppable mouth. No matter how much someone would beg, Nari would never shut up. Serena was provoked by that, the fact that someone wouldn’t obey her orders. It was frustrating and yet so charming.

She leaned in and whispered into Nari’s ear.

"Nari-chan... you aren’t a gemini, are you?”

Nari was confused, that’s it? That’s all Serena wanted to ask? No scolding, no punishment like usual? She was disappointed. Nari loved getting yelled at by Serena.

”N-no. I’m not a gemini, I’m a scorpio Senpai. But what does that have to do with anyth-"

"Shut it.”

Serena passionately kissed Nari with her passionate lips, passionate love and passionate hate towards geminis. She was so relieved that Nari wasn’t one of them. Disgusting. That would be horrible.

Horrible.

Hor-

"AAAH! NOOOO PLEASE GOD NO!"

Serena woke up covered in sweat. What the fuck was that?? Nari? What was she doing in Serena’s dream and why were they calling eachother like characters in a Japanese cartoon? Serena looked around her, it was her room. Thank God everything was just a dream and nothing else. Next to her, lying in bed was Andy who snuck in last night to sleep next to her girlfriend. Like all nights, actually. She was really worried for Serena’s mental state, not only today but in general.

"Serena...? *yawn* Are you okay sweetie?”

Serena hugged Andy, almost in tears.

"N-no! I saw her again in my dreams. That chatterbox monster, Nari! But this time we were high schoolers in a shitty anime... Why? Oh, why would this happen to me?? What did I do wrong for her to come back to haunt me?"

Andy hugged Serena back, trying to be as supportive as she could. This situation was really strange. For the past few days, Serena always saw Nari in her dreams. Nari was that 2nd year student in Arlington who went missing a few months ago. But in actuality... it was all a ploy orchestrated by Serena. Serena had pulled some strings to make some trouble happen in Egypt so that Nari would go back there for a couple of months. A couple of months that were extremely peaceful... Well, Trashy burned the building a couple of times but it was cool. Thanks to that some classes were canceled and Serena secretly thanked Trashy for her interventions.

The only people who knew about this were Serena and Andy, Serena knew that if she told Olivier what she did in order to get rid of Nari, he would get mad at her and rightfully so.

”Calm down Serena sssshhh. It’s going to be alright. Um... you know I’ve been thinking about this for a while now, but could it be that you have a guilty conscience? Maybe that’s why Nari appears in your dreams?”

Serena looked up at Andy, seriously taking in account what her girlfriend just told her. But no, that couldn’t be it. Serena? Feeling guilt for getting rid of Nari? Impossible. Nari was her arch-nemesis. It was absurd to think that after all these months Serena would suddenly start to feel guilty about her scheme.

”No... that can’t be it Andy. I would never feel bad for Nari. I think.”

”Aww come on, I know that you’re not as cold hearted as you pretend to be. Let’s just try to contact Nari, okay? Maybe you actually miss her a little bit.”

Did Serena miss Nari? Ridiculous but much more believable than feeling guilty.

"... Alright. Let’s do that."

Serena and Andy came down from the bed, they were changing into their school uniforms to get ready for class. That’s when someone barged in, looking extremely distraught. It was Rafael.

"Girls!!! Come quick! There’s 8 murde-"

Serena threw a pillow into Ralf’s face while Andy was covering herself with the blanket. Serena yelled at him in panic.

"What the hell Rafael? Can’t you knock first?? Turn around and explain yourself!”

Rafael turned around like instructed, facing the door. He was super gay for Olivier but he still covered his face with the pillow, just in case. He didn’t want Serena and Andy to feel uncomfortable.

"This is not important right now! There’s 8 murders in the Academy that ocurred this morning...”

Andy and Serena looked at eachother, horrified by the news. How was that possible? The security was so tight and the custodians always made rounds, even in the early mornings. Andy clenched her fists, still in disbelief.

”But... that’s impossible! One murder, sure. But 8 people have died?? There’s always guards in front of the entrance... and... and there’s at least one custodian on each floor to keep an eye on us!"

Rafael stood there, silent. Unable to explain the events. All he could say was...

”Oliver is waiting for us in the student council’s room. Come quick.”

There was no time to waste. Serena and Andy dashed out of their room and went out of the dormitory only to see a cruel scene unfold. A bunch of nurses were taking 8 people away into ambulance trucks. However, the 8 people were covered in white pieces of cloth. As if they were already dead. In the crowd, a blond girl with a pink flower in her braids was being retained by at least four people. They were trying to hold her still while she was screaming and shouting like a trapped animal.

"G-geez! How strong is this girl?! Someone call the remaining custodians to help us out! We can’t hold her forever!!!”

”Remaining custodians”? So, some of them had been killed as well? Or at least badly hurt. Andy and Serena tried to pass by the scene in a hurry but they couldn’t ignore the yells of the suffering young girl. Oh mother of god... It was the sweet and gentle Claire, trying to set herself free by punching and kicking.

"LET ME GO! I HAVE TO FOLLOW THEM AND MAKE SURE THAT THEY'RE OKAY!!! DON’T HOLD ME BACK!!! THIS CAN’T BE. THEY’RE NOT DEAD!!! THEY’RE NOT DEAD, OKAY?! STOP LOOKING AT ME LIKE I’M CRAZY!!! I... I...”

Suddenly all of her strength left her body and she fell down on her knees, seeing that she finally calmed down the 4 students that were holding her let go of their grip. Claire buried her face into her hands, crying.

"N-No... they’re not d-dead... the doctors will bring them back with a b-blood transfusion and... and... CPR will definitely work... if, if not then there’s also a defibrillator... it’ll work haha... ah... ah... ahh..."

She started hyperventilating, her eyes were bloodshot and her hair and clothes were all messy. She then covered her mouth, trying to stop what was coming, in vain.

”BLRGH.”

She threw up on the ground, still hyperventilating in between each spew. Because of that she was almost unable of breathing. Two custodians ran to her, scared of her reaction. What if she chokes up and dies because of her own vomit?

"P-please! Young miss calm down! Breath in... and out... in... and out... yes, slowly.”

Thank god her breathing became stable again, she could’ve lost consciousness from the lack of oxygen. After emptying up her stomach she started crying in the custodian’s arms.

"T-those people w-were my friends... *hic* R-raquel was right next to me... *hic* how did I fail to do anything?! ...U-useless! I’M USELESS. W-when it comes down to real danger... I’m unable to do a-anything. I couldn’t save anyone... I’ve never saved anyone! Not a single person!”

Andy didn’t even realize that she was crying at the heartbreaking scene until Serena covered her eyes and pulled her away from the crowd.

"Andy, don’t look...”

It was meaningless, Andy was unable to see anything anyway. Her eyes were filled up with tears, distorting her vision. However there was one thing she knew. Even though Serena was trying to hide it and act though, she was crying too.

In front of the student council’s room, they dried up their tears and snot with their sleeves, no time to find handkerchiefs. And they stepped in. Four people were in the room, Olivier shouting at Trashy, Trashy looking scared out of her mind but doing her best to deny whatever Olivier was stating, Rafael trying to calm Olivier down and... Tadashi, sat on one of the chairs. Looking down, emotionless. It’s as if all trace of life had left his body.

Serena tried to ignore that for now and put her hand on Olivier’s shoulder, he turned away from Trashy and looked at Serena, annoyed and angry.

"Ugh. You’re finally here?! What took you so lo-"

Before he could finish, Serena slapped the shit out of him, knowing that he wouldn’t calm down anytime soon if this went on.

"Calm down! I can see that Tadashi isn’t capable of handling anything right now so you should try to stay calm and take over as the student council president! It won’t help if you lose yourself like this...”

She then looked at Rafael, who was frozen in panic.

"Ralf, next time something like this happens just hit the shit outta him without hesitation. Got it?”

”Y-yes, sorry. I’ll do so.”

Olivier looked at his reflexion in the window and sighed a few times. He still wore that stupid cat mask. Then with a clear mind, he went back to business.

"Trashy. Please be honest with me. You’re the one who committed those murders, aren’t you?”

Trashy was shaking, teary eyed and visibly afraid by not only Olivier but also the stressful situation she was in.

"N-no! I’m telling you I would never kill people in cold blood! I only do harmless pranks...”

Olivier clenched his jaw. ”Harmless pranks” she says. He opened a folder and took out a document from it.

"Trashy. So far you have committed: arson, fraud, larceny and forgery. So tell me what could POSSIBLY lead me to believe that you aren’t the culprit behind this... this... inhumane incident?”

Trashy stood up, slamming her hand unto the table.

”I’m telling you: I’m innocent! I would never kill E-Ellie, Alistair or any other person of this school!"

At those words, Tadashi who was silent this whole time started sobbing and holding his arms, as if he was hugging himself.

”N-no... Ellie... Alistair... Raquel... *sob* Please c-come back. I-I’m scared... *hic* I-I’ll be good so p-please don’t abandon me *hic* A-Axel I-I won’t give you detention ever again... and... and I-I’ll help you guys with your homework... *hic*"

Rafael, Serena and Andy rushed in to hug him, seeing that he was in despair. Olivier sighed and glared at Trashy.

"I told you not to mention their names. He gets like that whenever he hears it.”

”I’m so sorry...”

Trashy looked extremely apologetic. As Serena was holding Tadashi in her arms, she shot a quick side-glance towards Trashy, it’s true that she was very chaotic but... logic aside, proof aside, was Trashy really capable of doing such things? Serena wanted to believe in her so badly but it is true that she was quite suspicious. As she was asking herself hundreds of questions, two people barged in.

"Excuse us.”

A weird man dressed in all black, carrying a katana and... a normal woman were standing before them. Olivier walked towards them, as if he knew who they were.

”Are you... who I think you are?”

The man and woman smiled at eachother.

”That’s right, I’m Nadir. The detective.”

”And I’m Gen, the coroner. Nice to meet you.”

Nadir had a Maryland accent... whatever that was supposed to mean. He didn’t look like a detective at all though, why was he carrying a katana? And why was there a coroner with him? All the dead bodies were brought to the hospital already. Well, they might get resurrected somehow. It’s not like hope was completely lost. Or at least Andy hoped so.

”Um. Excuse me uh. Gen? I don’t understand why you’re here and not at the hospital, I mean your job is to check wounds and find the cause of death, right?”

Gen smiled innocently.

”Oh I’ve already done my job, it was all stab wounds from a kitchen knife. Now I’m here in any case we find other dead bodies or if someone else dies.”

”Uh... okay.”

Tadashi suddenly stopped crying, awakened from his miserable state by Gen’s comment.

"DON’T SAY THAT! How... How DARE you just call them ”dead bodies”?! They were my friends! And... and they might be saved!!!”

Gen looked at him with sorrow in her eyes. As if it was too late. Thankfully Tadashi was so angry that he didn’t notice that. She had a look that said ”it’s hopeless kid.” Serena tried to change the subject, knowing that Tadashi would blow up like Claire if he knew that they were already dead.

”Soooo... Anyway, who are the people that got hurt?”

Olivier gave her the list with the names of all the victims, knowing that if he said their names aloud, Tadashi would lose it again. As expected, all of Tadashi’s and Claire’s friends were on it. Neha Rao, Tyler Williams, the Novakova siblings and so on and so forth. They were all so close and yet the only people left were Tadashi and Claire... but why did only those 2 survive?

”You’re all thinking ”why did those 2 survive”, aren’t you?”

Nadir smirked at them with a know-it-all epxression that everyone hated. It seems like he had already made some research before coming.

”Well, we’re thinking that it must be because... either one of those 2 is the culprit or... the person who attacked their friends didn’t manage to finish their job and he’s after them.”

Everyone was frightened by the thought... Claire, where was she? Hopefully she wasn’t left alone, however, just in case they should go find her and stay by her side. What if the culprit took advantage of her mental state to strike? The only person in the room who didn’t think about that possibility was Tadashi, he was too blinded by anger and fright.

”You’re saying that either me or Claire could be the culprits? That’s total BULLSHIT! We would never even THINK about doing something like this! How could I... How could I ever do something like this to my best friend and boyfriend?!!”

That’s right, Tadashi’s best friend: Alistair. And his boyfriend... Axel. A really weird couple indeed, they hated eachother’s guts until really recently so why did they suddenly start dating? It was a complete mystery. It all started on april fool’s so everyone just assumed that they would end the joke pretty soon... 3 weeks later and the joke still wasn’t over.

Gen raised her voice, desperately trying to stop him from punching them in the face.

”Please calm down kid! We’re only stating the possibilities! Not saying that they’re true... but while it might not be you nor your friend, there is a high chance that the kill- um, culprit is a student. Even though some custodians were... hurt, no guards were harmed.”

Nadir nodded, strongly agreeing with his colleague’s words.

”That’s right. But first let’s go find that Claire girl, she might be in great danger at this rate. Do you know where she is?”

Tadashi shook his head, having no idea where the only friend he had left was. Luckily, Andy and Serena knew where she might be. They all ran to the nurse’s office, thinking that they would find an unconscious Claire who had probably collapsed from shock and stress. But she wasn’t there. Only the nurse remained, saying that Claire wanted to rest in her room. Serena grabbed the nurse by the shoulders and shook him violently.

”Are you kidding?! How could you let her alone in a situation like this?! Are you not aware of what’s happening right now?! And besides... isn’t Claire’s room... tainted in blood right now?!!”

The nurse pushed Serena away, slightly upset by her outburst.

”Who do you think we are? The room had been investigated and cleaned the moment the body was discovered. Also, she wasn’t alone. There was another student with her who promised me to follow her no matter where she went.”

Serena’s eyes widened. Oh god. Oh no. What if this student is the killer?! Catching on what she was thinking, Nadir grabbed the nurse by his shoulders and shook him just like Serena did earlier.

”Who was it?! Who was that student?”

”Ugh. Could you all stop grabbing and shaking me?! I don’t know what her name was but it was a girl with really messy hair. To the point where I would guess that she doesn’t even own a hairbrush.”

They all started running towards the dormitory while the nurse was cursing them under his breath. On their way there, they saw two students in the courtyard, on the ground. One covered in blood and the other one holding her in her arms while crying. It was Reckless and AJ.

”AJ!! Please wake up! Come on you gotta live... You still haven’t paid me for the tarot reading I did for you the other day!!”

AJ was still half-conscious, holding on to dear life.

”God... shut the fuck up...”

”No, don’t say that AJ!! What if those are your last words?! You can’t let your last words be something so vulgar! What am I gonna say to your parents...”

”I don’t... give a shit...”

Gen pushed Reckless away, looking closely at the young girl’s wounds all over her stomach. Reckless wiped a tear away, relieved.

”Oh thank God, thank you doctor! Please save my cash-cow- I mean... my dear classmate!”

Gen then immediately got up, wiping her bloody hands on her jeans.

”Oh no kid, I’m not a doctor, I’m a coroner. All I can say is that she has most likely 5 minutes left to live or so. Sorry but to be saved, she would need to be a billionaire or something. Y’know how it is in America.”

Reckless started crying again.

”God I fucking hate capitalism. Can we all just die from a nuclear bomb, please? Someone nuke us, anyone. Even North Korea is fine...”

Andy took out her phone, calling the ambulance in a hurry. Serena had never seen her girlfriend look so livid.

”Are you all crazy?! We should at least call the ambulance in situations like these! Reckless, why didn’t you call 911 sooner?!”

Reckless kneeled in front of AJ, looking apologetic while still bawling her eyes out.

”You’re right Andy... I’m so sorry AJ, if only I wasn’t a dumbass... Come on, don’t lose consciousness! Or at least tell me your blood type before you do! Maybe we can still save you...”

”B... positive...”

”*sniff* I’m trying AJ but you’re losing a lot of blood...”

”That’s not... *cough* what I meant... you fucking dumbass *cough*"

This all looked like a comedy skit to be honest. AJ’s blood type wasn’t even B, it was O. Was she so out of it that she made a mistake? Serena went through 8 stages of whiplash before the ambulance finally showed their asses on the murder scene. Unfortunately, AJ hadn’t seen her attacker and same thing for Reckless. In any case it was useless to stay there, the group rushed back to the dorms like they were supposed to a long time ago before they found AJ dying. Hopefully Claire was still okay... It was like running a marathon. Arlington was way too big than it needed to be.

#sweet elite #se #Serandy #Olifael #part 3 #fanfiction #sweet elite AU

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afterthelastreset · 5 years ago

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Kris’s Soul Theories

Ok. So I was talking with my pal @makiswak about these and thought I’d share them here. These are just possible theories I came up with while rewatching the playthroughs of Deltarune and that scene of Kris ripping their soul out. So I thought of these to help maybe explain it. Hope you all like it.

Theory 1: KRIS IS POSESSED BY SOMETHING

The red soul is something else and something is posessing Kris. Before you all go out and point at Chara, Chara wasn’t ever really a bad person (watch the theories about it on youtube) so Chara wouldn’t posess someone. Plus we’ve never seen Chara posess someone cannically so- Plus there’s no WAY it could be Chara for 2 specific reasons.

1. This is a separate au from Undertale and the two games are two separate cannons as stated by Toby Fox

2. Asriel ain't dead so Chara is probably alive and well somewhere too, college aged since in Undertale they were the same age, and it seems everyone is their cannon age here

But ghosts ARE a real thing in undertale like Napstablook and we see a house similar to his house in town so maybe Kris Is being posessed by a evil ghost monster. And before someone suggest Frisk it couldn’t be either. Frisk was WAY younger than Chara or Asriel might’ve been and the only way Asriel was the same age as them in Undertale was because he was dead and an ageless flower for so long, and when he was brought back he reverted back to the age he was when he died. Everyone seems to be the same age they are as they were in Undertale. So Cannoncally if we’re calculating the numbers right, Frisk would be alive and younger than Asriel possibly even younger than Kris. So they’re not an option either, and Frisk was never shown with red eyes or a knife in game.

Theory 2: THE SOUL IS THE PLAYER

The soul is the player is probably the most obvious and likely but I’ll include it too just to be fair. So this one’s pretty basic. What is it’s US that’s possesing Kris and Kris is just rejecting the player’s control over them? It wouldn’t be the first time we got a fourth wall break. Remember in Undertale when Sans winked at us when he made the joke when Papyrus first appeared? And it didn’t seem like Kris was ever a cruel or dangerous person? Sure he scared Noelle by hiding under her bed but that sounds like something kids typically do. Scare their friends as pranks whether by hiding under the bed or jumping from around a corner. What if Kris only has the knife to defend himself? Because like everyone says in the game, Kris is a quiet kid but he never hurt anyone. Even in the 'genocide' run of the game no one dies. So what if Kris is holding back from the player's commands and shows us a his scary face as a warning? Because he doesn't want to hurt anyone.

Theory 3: THE WHOLE THING IS JUST A METAPHOR

Yep! What if Kris ISNT really ripping out their soul and what we see is just Toby Fox animating out what Kris is eternally feeling inside? It isn’t that too far of a stretch. This is Toby Fox who made Undertale, a game where a skeleton broke the fourth wall once, a ghost who possesses a robot, and talking goat’s who want to adopt you. And in undertale Toby included two meanings of ‘Love’. The love you gain in the pacifist route and L.O.V(Level of violence) for the genocide. And Sans uses all kinds of metaphors, jokes, and puns to refer to things. Why would it be too far a stretch that what we see isn’t actually happening and just symbolism to how Kris is feeling inside?

What if the soul IS Kris's soul, but he’s not ACTUALLY pulling it out and it’s what he’s feeling? You know what a soul looks like? YEP!! A HEART!! His ‘soul’ could be representing his heart. There’s things call heartache and heartbreak. And this kid has a LOT to be heartbroken over. He was adopted so he’s probably already feeling lost not knowing what his real family’s like, he’s the only human in a town of monsters, his adopted parents are divorced, his brother's not home anymore, and he has no friends outside maybe Noelle except when he meets Susie and the dark world gang.

What if Kris pulling out his soul out of his chest symbolizes his escape from all the hurtful emotions he's feeling? What if he's not REALLY ripping out his soul and what we see is just what Kris FEELS like is happening? He feels his 'heart being ripped from his chest'(which is already a real metaphor) and the red eyes and knife could just be metaphors too. Like the red eyes could just mean he's angry and the knife could just mean he feels like he has to defend himself from everyone because of what he's going through. Well what about his crazy smile and his trapped soul in the cage? Well his smile could symbolize him always smiling away the pain he’s feeling, and the cage could symbolize all the hope and love he wants to feel is buried deep down trapped in this cage he feels himself trapped in.

And if you point out the cage and the wagon is always in the game, it could be just a symbol throughout the game. Like maybe Kris feels constantly trapped by his emotions and doesn’t know how to stop carrying it around with him hence the wagon. Because he might feel like he’s dragging his caged weight with him everywhere. And the other thing’s that happen in the animation. Kris looking like he’s being throw outta bed and being forced to throw his soul out like a puppet. Perhaps it symbolizes that Kris feels he has to force himself to do this, to force himself against his better judgement to cage these emotions so avoid anymore pain?

Maybe Im looking to far into this but with Toby Fox anything is possible.

Theory 4: IT’S ALL JUST A NIGHTMARE

Kinda an extension of my third theory but hey, like I said with Toby Fox anything is possible here so us seeing Kris’s nightmare isn’t too far a stretch too.

So here me out. The animation with the soul shows us nighttime with Kris in bed before the soul ripping out thing even happens so what if Kris is having a night mare and in this nightmare, he’s reliving through all the emotions and trauma he’s experiencing? Just some more possible symbolism here, but the part where Kris falls out of bed could possible symbolize that this dream has happened before since’s he’s eerily silent. Maybe he’s had this dream so many times to be barely affected anymore. If so then poor Kris. Again this one doesn’t hold up as much as the other three do but it’s one regardless.

Theory 5: THIS IS JUST A PREVEIW

The whole game’s not done so maybe the end of the first chapter is just a small preview of what WILL happen but HASN’T yet. After all in some games like Bendy And The Ink Machine after every chapter it showed a small preview of what’s to come for the next one. Perhaps Toby was just showing us what was to happen in later chapters to come?

Well these are my five theories of what’s actually going on in that one scene. Tell me what you guys think of all this?

#Kris #Deltarune #Deltarune soul

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animebw · 4 years ago

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Binge-Reading: Fate/Stay Night VN, UBW Route Day 12

In which Caster gets introspective, Ilya gets wrecked, and Shirou gains some new perspective on his old flaw.

Stopping Point: Burying Ilya

Lost and Found

It’s easy to think of Caster as a simple monster. Hell, considering all the damage she’s caused, she probably deserves the designation. But if there’s anyone who deserves to be this vengeful towards other human lives? Medea would probably qualify. Lest we forget, this lady from ancient Greek myths was given an absolutely raw deal, and history spent the next couple millennia blaming her for lashing out at the people who hurt her. She was a witch not of her own choosing, but because it was a convenient excuse for everyone to blame all their misfortune on. There’s a particularly raw line in her reflections: ”People demand easily understandable evils to remind themselves of their own goodness.” That sentiment explains so much of the cruel acts humanity has committed across all eras of history. Medea was called a witch, so why not play the part and turn humanity’s evil back in its face? It’s no wonder she takes so much pleasure in the havoc she wreaks.

But it also makes her relationship with Kuzuki so fascinating; here, at last, is another person who just treats her... normally. He’s a blank enough slate, with so few personal desires, that he has no problem following her lead without too much pushback. How long has it been since Caster’s had someone she can trust, do you think? Who expects nothing of her but the person she is? She outright slaughtered her first master to try and gain freedom; that’s how little she trusted him to have her interests at heart. And the price for that freedom would’ve been vanishing all over again if Kuzuki hadn’t shown up at the perfect moment. She probably lost all hope that she would ever not be alone again, and it almost destroyed her. But it turns out, the only way to escape her eternal isolation was with a guy who literally has no other desires but to help her. I don’t know if that’s touching or absolutely heartbreaking. Maybe a little of both. In this fucked-up situation, her only source of comfort is someone who is, on some level, incapable of having a balanced relationship with her. And a lifetime of pain leaves her no hope of things ever getting better than this.

White Snow

But whatever Caster’s suffered, even that is nothing compared to Ilya. Abandoned by her father, raised as a living vessel, arrested in her youth before she could ever develop a sense of her own humanity. She had no one to rely on, and it made her just as ruthless as the people shaping her. No one, that is, until the Eizenberns summoned Berserker. In the absence of any support system, this mad warrior became Ilya’s one source of comfort. The being whose very movement caused Ilya pain became her one tether to the world outside her lonely skin. In that small, cold castle, he was the only one she talked to. And no matter how deep his madness latched its claws into him, he never lost sight of her. He never lost sight of the girl who relied on him, the girl he protected, the girl who chose him to be her Something when she was fated to have nothing. Underneath his mad exterior, Heracles remained every bit the heroic spirit he was called to be for her sake.

And he carried out that mission until the very end.

I still remember how much it hurt to see Ilya die the first time I watched the UBW anime. She’d gone through so much, been stuck with the absolute worst lot in life, and what little chance she has left is violently ripped away before she can seize it. In truth, I think the anime’s version of her death is honestly better; the added context of Fate/Zero’s connections to the adaptation re:Kiritsugu provides even more heartbreaking context, and the music that plays over her death in the VN is... weirdly Christmas-y? I know her whole deal is being in a white forest, but it literally sounds like there are carolers down the street spreading merry tidings as Gilgamesh rips her heart out of her chest (”No, he made it miss.” That... is the most evil detail ever.) But even then... god, what a way to go. Berserker knows he can’t beat Gilgamesh, but he fights the bastard to his final breath, using his body as a shield to protect the person who matters most. This colossus of a man, who’s been shown over and over again to be the most physically powerful fighter in this game by a country mile, goes down in a blaze of glory, using every last ounce of his strength to extend Ilya’s final moments just a little bit longer. And in her slow demise, Ilya holds fast to the person who’s always protected her, even after all this time. After everything she’s suffered and all the loneliness she’s been forced to bear, Ilya dies by the side of the one person who never let her go.

She dies knowing that someone, somewhere, somehow, cared about her.

Rest easy, Ilya. You don’t have to be cold anymore.

A Face in the Fire

Safe to say, Ilya’s death is massive. It’s brutal, it’s unforgiving, and it tears a scar right through the fabric of the story. And it forces Shirou to confront his uncertainty over the path he’s walking all over again. He doesn’t know Ilya. He had no interactions with her in this route. This girl is completely unrelated to him (as far as he knows). And he was still entirely ready to die a pointless death fighting to avenge her. Seeing Gilgamesh slaughter her pissed him off so much that his body straight-up refused to run away. If Rin hadn’t stepped in to threaten Shinji and give Gilgamesh a reason to retreat (and drag him endlessly of course: ”Don’t you realize by now you don’t have the talent to be a magus?”), Shirou would be dead. And he knows it. When Shinji tries to threaten him by telling him he’s about to die, Shinji thinks, “Why say something so obvious?” It didn’t matter that his life was on the line. It only mattered that Ilya didn’t deserve to die that way. As he puts it, his self lost its self that infernal day ten years ago. Emiya Shirou might have survived, but some part of him perished in those flames. And in its absence, Kiritsugu’s earnest face took root, staring at him with pleading eyes and begging him to live. A face that Shirou would try to emulate by becoming a superhero, wanting to inspire that same hope in others with no regard for himself.

But that’s not entirely accurate.

And as always, it takes an observation from Rin to knock some sense into this idiot.

For all Shirou’s desire to help everyone else out and not worry about his own needs, he’s still incredibly self-conscious. He has such strong personal conviction, and he stays true to his ideals because he truly believes in them. If he were merely a slave to doing good, he would just do good whenever the opportunity arose. He wouldn’t be so emphatic about it, and he wouldn’t get so pissed at people like Archer and Gilgamesh follow their own paths. That proves that somewhere deep down, Shirou does take his self-interest into account. Part of him does try to do right by himself. It’s just for the sake of moral fulfillment over emotional, mental or physical fulfillment. And that tension of pursuing the things he believes in while neglecting all his other needs is breaking him. He tries to live his life as if everyone else is more important than he is, but he’s still too human to be able to escape the needs of caring for himself as well. He wants to be someone who’s there to save people just like Kiritsugu, but he spent so much time marveling over the fact that someone was there to save him that he forgot the other side of that fact: he was saved. The person he’s trying to emulate explicitly chose to protect Shirou’s needs in a way that Shirou himself has never done. Kiritsugu’s actions said that Shirou’s life was worth living. So if Shirou really wants to honor his adopted father, why not take Rin’s advice and make the most of the life he saved? Why not have fun to offset the hell he’s suffered? It’s not like he’s gonna be any less burdened by his personal needs whether he acknowledges them or not.

But for now, the fight goes on. And even if Shirou knows he’s walking the wrong path, he won’t regret believing in it in the first place. Because there’s no way wanting to help people is a mistake, however flawed his methodology was. And if he can conquer himself enough to make the world a better place? Then perhaps his crooked progress was worth something after all.

Odds and Ends

-”They had sex before the Bhudda.” Welp.

-”Even if I’m walking down the wrong path, I won’t regret believing in it.” Because at least you’re still fighting for the right reasons.

-”It looks so wrong, and yet so right.” The power of megane.

-”I guess there’s personal differences on that alarm.” oh my god I’m cackling

-”I had hopes for a fellow demigod, but it seems you’re no match for me.” God, what a shit.

-Lol, he’s not even looking at Shinji. Get rekt, insignificant prick.

We’re in the thick of it now, folks. See you next time!

#anime #the anime binge-watcher #tabw #Fate/stay night #fate vn #fate ubw #shirou emiya #rin tohsaka #sakura matou #saber #unlimited blade works

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she-who-fights-and-writes · 6 years ago

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She-who-fights-and-writes Top 5 Book Recs 2019!!

Here are my top five books/book series that I think EVERYONE should read or at least try to read in their lifetime!! No matter their standing on this list, I love every single one of these books with my whole heart!!!!!

5. Pet Sematary by Stephen King (Genre: Horror)

Back cover:

When Dr. Louis Creed takes a new job and moves his family to the idyllic rural town of Ludlow, Maine, this new beginning seems too good to be true. Despite Ludlow’s tranquility, an undercurrent of danger exists here. Those trucks on the road outside the Creed’s beautiful old home travel by just a little too quickly, for one thing…as is evidenced by the makeshift graveyard in the nearby woods where generations of children have buried their beloved pets. Then there are the warnings to Louis both real and from the depths of his nightmares that he should not venture beyond the borders of this little graveyard where another burial ground lures with seductive promises and ungodly temptations. A blood-chilling truth is hidden there—one more terrifying than death itself, and hideously more powerful. As Louis is about to discover for himself sometimes, dead is better…

I didn’t sleep for two days after finishing this book. I had to read it in the morning, never at night, and couldn’t put it down whenever I picked it up. However, this book is really a testament to Stephen King’s reputation as the dominator of the horror/suspense genre of fiction.

Beautifully descriptive and creepy, it gives a shocking new perspective of the consequences of playing God. With a very much flawed and very much human main character, along with a gripping story that raises the hairs on the back of your neck, Pet Semetary is the perfect book to read when you’re feeling a flare for the supernatural.

4. The Lunar Chronicles by Marissa Meyer (Genre: Sci-Fi)

Back cover of Cinder:

CINDER, a gifted mechanic in New Beijing, is also a cyborg. She's reviled by her stepmother and blamed for her stepsister's sudden illness. But when her life becomes entwined with the handsome Prince Kai's, she finds herself at the centre of a violent struggle between the desires of an evil queen - and a dangerous temptation. Cinder is caught between duty and freedom, loyalty and betrayal. Now she must uncover secrets about her mysterious past in order to protect Earth's future. This is not the fairytale you remember. But it's one you won't forget.

These books broke me out of a serious book hangover (caused by the #1 series on this list) and made me realize “Wait, there are other books in this world that can be enjoyed besides this series.”

Funny and captivating, this book puts an interesting twist on classic fairytales. Instead of being the kind of twist where everything is unnecessarily gory and dark, this puts a futuristic spin on the classic stories that we all know and love.

The characters are amazing and very diverse, and although the stories are similar to the Grimm’s fairy tales, they’re a whole new ballpark plot-wise that keeps you on the edge of your seat!

3. In Order to Live by Yeonmi Park (Genre: Memoir)

Back cover:

“I am most grateful for two things: that I was born in North Korea, and that I escaped from North Korea.”

Still in her early twenties, Yeonmi Park has lived through experiences that few people of any age will ever know--and from which most would never recover. At age thirteen, together with her mother, she made a harrowing escape from brutal conditions in North Korea. Two years later, they reached South Korea and freedom. But the devestating journey in between cost Park her childhood and nearly her life. As she writes, “I convinced myself that a lot of what I had experienced never happened. I taught myself to forget the rest.”

In In Order to Live, Park sines light not just into the darkest corners of life in North Korea, describing the deprivation and deception she endured and that millions of North Korean people continue to endure to this day, but also onto her own most painful and difficult memories. She tells with bravery and dignity for the first time the story of how she and her mother were betrayed and sold into sexual slavery in China and forced to suffer terrible psychological and physical hardship.

Park confronts her past with a startling resilience. In spite of everything, she has never stopped being proud of where she is from, and never stopped striving for a better life. Today she is a human rights activist working determinedly to bring attention to the oppression taking place in her home country. Park’s testimony is rare, edifying, and terribly important, and the story she tells in In Order to Live is heartbreaking and unimaginable but never without hope.

This book changed my life.

Riveting, beautiful, and at heartbreaking, it really made me appreciate what I have in life and made me more aware of things that are currently happening in the world as we speak.

I think that no one should be able to talk about North Korea and about how it’s not a big deal that we help the people there until they read this book.

Truly an amazing and unbelievable story.

2. The Song of Achilles by Madeline Miller (Genre: Fantasy)

Back cover:

Achilles, "the best of all the Greeks," son of the cruel sea goddess Thetis and the legendary king Peleus, is strong, swift, and beautiful— irresistible to all who meet him. Patroclus is an awkward young prince, exiled from his homeland after an act of shocking violence. Brought together by chance, they forge an inseparable bond, despite risking the gods' wrath.

They are trained by the centaur Chiron in the arts of war and medicine, but when word comes that Helen of Sparta has been kidnapped, all the heroes of Greece are called upon to lay siege to Troy in her name. Seduced by the promise of a glorious destiny, Achilles joins their cause, and torn between love and fear for his friend, Patroclus follows. Little do they know that the cruel Fates will test them both as never before and demand a terrible sacrifice.

A phenomenally written and emotional re-telling of the classic Greek epic the Iliad that delves into the romantic relationship between Achilles and Patroclus.

Madeline Miller truly has an undeniable god-given talent for writing; her descriptions and storytelling makes for a book that you CANNOT put down once you’ve picked it up.

I read this book in a day and had a serious, serious book hangover afterward; I literally could NOT stop thinking about it for days. It just sticks with you, you know?

Me and my mom both wept over this book; it is truly a triumph and a masterpiece.

1. The Grishaverse by Leigh Bardugo (Genre: Fantasy)

Back cover of Shadow and Bone, first book in The Grisha Trilogy:

Soldier. Summoner. Saint. Orphaned and expendable, Alina Starkov is a soldier who knows she may not survive her first trek across the Shadow Fold―a swath of unnatural darkness crawling with monsters. But when her regiment is attacked, Alina unleashes dormant magic not even she knew she possessed.

Now Alina will enter a lavish world of royalty and intrigue as she trains with the Grisha, her country’s magical military elite―and falls under the spell of their notorious leader, the Darkling. He believes Alina can summon a force capable of destroying the Shadow Fold and reuniting their war-ravaged country, but only if she can master her untamed gift.

As the threat to the kingdom mounts and Alina unlocks the secrets of her past, she will make a dangerous discovery that could threaten all she loves and the very future of a nation.

Welcome to Ravka . . . a world of science and superstition where nothing is what it seems.

Back cover of Six of Crows, first book in the Six of Crows Duology:

Ketterdam: a bustling hub of international trade where anything can be had for the right price―and no one knows that better than criminal prodigy Kaz Brekker. Kaz is offered a chance at a deadly heist that could make him rich beyond his wildest dreams. But he can't pull it off alone. . . .

A convict with a thirst for revenge. A sharpshooter who can't walk away from a wager. A runaway with a privileged past. A spy known as the Wraith. A Heartrender using her magic to survive the slums. A thief with a gift for unlikely escapes.

Six dangerous outcasts. One impossible heist. Kaz's crew is the only thing that might stand between the world and destruction―if they don't kill each other first.

The Grishaverse is a group of series that are all set within the same universe where magic runs wild and the world-building-- from the culture of each country to the unique landscapes--is so phenomenal that you almost wish you could jump right into the book like Blue’s Clues and live there forever.

Leigh Bardugo is my favorite author of all time.

Her writing is beyond any other tier that I have every had the pleasure to read, to the point where I couldn’t read any other books for a good year after finishing the Six of Crows Duology because it set my standards so high for YA fantasy.

There are many books within the Grishaverse-- including the Grisha Trilogy, the Six of Crows Duology, the King of Scars series, and the Language of Thorns storybook--but you don’t have to have read one series to understand the other.

Personally, I like the Six of Crows Duology better than the Grisha Trilogy; it was written afterward and the writing and storytelling is far more evolved and sophisticated.

But even so, Leigh Bardugo really is an incredible storyteller, so if you can get your hands on any of these books, please do!

#writing #book #books #book recs #book recommendations #book recommendation #book rec #fantasy #horror #YA

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sleepyfan-blog · 6 years ago

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When Somebody Loved Me

For all the people on discord who encouraged me to write this

fandom: undertale AU

characters and pairing: Dream, Hearts, dreammare

Warning: angst, songfic

Word count: 2,343

Summary: Dream while playing a playing piano and singing, reflects.

Dream wandered through an empty underground - wondering whether it was because this Timeline was the end result of an unmerciful human, or because the monsters were all above ground, living happily on the surface, doing their best to get along with humanity above... He had left the Omega Timeline. He... He could usually stay there - it was a pretty positive place, and the people there were always happy to see him (feel his aura, talk about what happened to them in their own timelines, grateful for a listening ear and a compassionate hug or pat on the back depending on how touch-adverse they were). But it was difficult to maintain the mask of cheerfulness... Particularly as a comment that one of the Sanses had made had cut deeply. He had assumed that because he was cheerful all the time, that nothing awful had ever happened to him.

That Dream couldn't possibly understand what it was like to lose one's entire timeline, and everyone he ever loved. So he had left that Sans to grieve, wandering off and feeling something crumble a little. Which was why he had left the Omega Timeline before someone else came up to talk to him. He was glad that the timeline he'd randomly teleported to was empty - but he didn't smell any dust or feel any lingering feelings of pain, anger or fear so... Why this underground was empty, it was unlikely that it was due to his... His... Due to Nightmare.

Dream spotted a piano through the window of one of the shops he was walking by, and after a moment's hesitation, the guardian of positivity walked through the empty building, his soft footsteps almost deafening as he walked across the floor, not really taking in the decor - flashy and there seemed to be a little bit of glitter on the floor. There was also a raised stage and several poles anchored on the floor and ceiling. Dream noticed but disregarded all of this, making his way around the tables to the piano, running his fingertips against the instrument, lightly tapping each of the keys.

It was reasonably in tune so the positive spirit pulled out the bench and sat down in front of the piano, beginning to play, a song coming to mind.

"When somebody loved me, everything was beautiful. Every hour we spent together lives within my heart." Dream began, his voice wavering a little, before getting stronger. His eye lights went out as he thought back on old, now bittersweet memories.

Dream and Nightmare sitting at the base of the tree, cuddled together as they drew shapes in the stars, making up stories about the figures that they created - fierce battles between epic heroes and dastardly villains, laughing and happy in the warm summer evening.

"And when he was sad, I was there to dry her tears. And when she was happy, so was I. When she loved me." Dream sang, his fingers dancing on the piano keys, remembering the first time that Nightmare had come back from the village alone, dirty, clothes slightly torn and tears falling from his face. He had immediately rushed to the other's side, healing him of his injuries and wiping away the pain. His favorite memories of their time together were when Nightmare was smiling and laughing - like when he surprised the other with books...

The many, many jokes that they told one another... Light and gentle kisses, sweet promises that had ended up broken and shattered like their timeline. Tears blurred Dream's eyes as he continued to sing and play, his shoulders shaking a little. He could still remember the way that Nightmare's kisses felt like - the other's tender touches as they held one another - his comforting words making even the worst thunderstorms seem better.

"Through the summer and the fall, we had each other, that was all. Just he and I together, like it was meant to be." Dream continued. He really missed the time before any of the villagers had been around them. Both of them had been happiest at that time - no one else taking up the other's time. Blissfully ignorant of the pain and suffering that others could cause. He remembered fondly the times when they made one another flower crowns, wearing the gift that the other had made them until the petals withered and fell.

Running through the meadow that surrounded The Tree, dragging a half-heartedly protesting Nightmare to come see the first blossoms of summer, tumbling playfully down the grassy hill, rolling and laughing as they came to a stop, hugging one another and laying down in the warm grass, watching the butterflies go past them.

"And when he was lonely, I was there to comfort him... And I knew that he loved me..." Dream sung softly, his voice breaking a little at the word love again. He had thought he had done all that he could to cheer up Nightmare, as he had noticed that the other had been pulling away as the villagers came and visited them more frequently. He had done all he could to reassure Nightmare that though he had liked interacting with the mortals... His heart belonged to his beloved, and that he would do all he could to support the other.

"So the years went by, I stayed the same, but he began to drift away." Not that it had worked... Dream had no idea why at the time, but the longer that the villagers had stayed around, and the village grew larger and more prosperous around them... The further that his beloved, his other half had drifted from him... And the positive spirit had no idea why. He had desperately tried to call out to the other, to reach him, but Nightmare had only pulled further away from him... From everyone, sinking in on himself and burying himself in his books, hiding in the tree. Unreachable and untouchable.

"I was left alone, but still I waited for the day when he'd say I will always love you." Dream managed out, his soul aching as he remembered how... How distant Nightmare had grown, as unbeknownst to him, the villagers' attacks on Nightmare had gotten much, much worse. As Dream had desperately tried to gain more of his beloved's attention - pulling away from the mortals in an attempt to be more available for his other half, they in turn, became more cruel to Nightmare for daring to steal Dream's attention from him. Not that he had known any of that until... Until he'd been turned into a statue and Nightmare had told him in all of the ways the villagers had been cruel and unkind to him.

"Lonely and forgotten, never thought he'd look my way. He smiled at me and held me, just like he used to do. Like he loved me..." Dream sung softly, the tears still freely flowing from his face, making the keys slick and more difficult to play. Luckily the song was a fairly slow one. He... Dream remembered one final day, just before Nightmare had eaten almost all of the apples, where his beloved had spent the entire day with him. The two of them had talked and laughed - played games and held one another close... Just like they used to. Dream had hoped that it had meant that whatever dark mood his beloved had fallen into, Nightmare was finally starting to come out of. That his patience and persistence at trying to be by the other's side whenever he could had finally started to pay off. "When he loved me..." Dream repeated again, stopping playing for a couple of moments as he buried his face in his hands, sobbing a little.

After a couple of moments, the positive guardian manages to rally himself to continue to play again, though his voice is still trembling under the weight of his grief, guilt and sorrow as he finished the chorus again, the tears still freely falling from his face. He found the silence deafening after the last note of the piano died away. Dream curled up on the piano bench and allowed himself to sob, rocking back and forth a little in a vain attempt to calm himself down. If he got too stressed or upset Nightmare would find him and he was so very far from prepared to deal with Nightmare in the state that he was in. He shivered a little and scrubbed his face with his hands before smacking his cheeks, taking in a couple of steadying breaths, starting to get himself under control.

Dream was well aware that he was going to have to spend more than a couple of minutes collecting himself in this empty section of timeline - so that when he wandered back to the Omega Timeline, he could continue to put his best foot forwards in order to help other people. He was being incredibly selfish as it was, breaking down like this. Had he noticed that Nightmare was suffering, he might have been able to avoid a lot of the pain and suffering that so many had suffered. Including his beloved Nightmare.

"Hello sweetheart. I thought I heard the echoing sounds of a pretty little songbird. Who's the awful monster who stole your soul from you? I know the sound of true heartbreak when I hear it." A skeleton in a blue furred, sleeveless purple jacket, a black crop top and pants. His bright blue boots matched the color of the fluff on his jacket.

Dream flinched back in shock, scrambling backwards and managing to paste on a (very fake) smile, painfully aware of the fact that he still had golden tear tracks on his face - and was sitting in a puddle of his own glowing tears. "I... I don't... I don't know wh-what you mean by that.. I-I'm fine, really." He pushed his positive aura on the other a little, hoping that the stranger would believe his flat out lie.

"Sugar, I heard you sobbing the entire time you sang. There's no way that you're fine lovely as your magic feels. You don't have to tell me anything, we are strangers... But I am here to listen, if you want to talk."

"I... I don't... Why do you want to help me? I am a stranger..." Dream asked, his voice shaking a little as he wiped his face clean. "A-And what's your name? I've been terribly rude, I'm sorry."

"You're heart sick and miserable, besides you've been much nicer than most alternate selves I've ran into. I don't particularly care what the others' call me... For a nickname, call me Hearts... What's yours?" The other responded, a small frown appearing on his face as he walked over. "I've seen glimpses of you, but never for very long. I suspect that the others have been keeping us apart. Likely because they might think I'll corrupt you or something equally ridiculous."

"I... My name is Dream. It's nice to meet you, Hearts!" The positive guardian responded with a small, but a more real smile on his face. Dream scooted over over to one side of the bench and patted the seat "If... You can sit down if you want to."

"Oh! I've heard a great deal about you. You're incredibly popular amongst the good Sanses... Although I suspect that it's rather... Wearing on you. And I can't imagine that running beside Ink for as long as you have is particularly restful." Hearts murmured, his eye lights shining brightly. "And thank you, I think I will."

"I... Haha... Yeah, Ink can be rather a lot. But uhm... I don't mind. I like keeping busy. It's better than not having anything to do as I get left alone with my thoughts and I... Would rather avoid that..." Dream murmured flinching as he realized just what he said "I... I mean, there's a lot I can do to help others... So I have to..."

"Hmmm... I suppose that's true... But if you keep helping everyone all the time and running on emotional empty like you clearly are... You're going to lose it sooner or later. I'm not saying that you should trust me, a random stranger... But you need to talk about what's causing you pain. Also I will help you beat up Ink or Blue - whichever one of the two of them broke your heart this way." Hearts responded, a bit of a growl in his voice.

"Aahahahaha... No I... I care for Blue and Ink, but no. I've never been in love with either of them. I was singing about someone else. Someone from my home timeline. I miss... I miss him still, despite everything that's happened between us..." Dream laughed, a hysterical note entering his voice. Oh, he was pretty sure that Ink would be delighted if he fell in love with the other - that way he was more likely to stay at the soulless skeleton's side forever (and so that Ink could continue to use his aura in several ways).

"W... Who are you in love with? If you don't mind me asking?" Hearts asked, staring at him in surprise.

"He'll hear me if I say his name." Dream said after a moment, shaking his head a little. That and he didn't want Hearts to potentially freak out - as he was pretty sure that the other would know who Nightmare was, if he knew of Ink. His other half had been causing quite a lot of trouble, after all.

"I... Uhm. Oh, okay?" Hearts managed out, blinking in confusion, clearly taken off-guard. The other looked like he was about to say something else when Dream's phone went off.

It was Ink - Error was trying to destroy a timeline again. "I... I have to go. Thank you for listening to me."

"You're welcome. Come find me anytime sweetheart." Hearts responded "Now go save a poor innocent universe from the clutches of Evil."

Dream chuckled a little at that and nodded "I... I will! Thanks." He was feeling somewhat better, and determined to fight Error.

#my writing #angst #songfic #dream #dreamtale #hearts #lust!sans #dreammare

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softkim2 · 6 years ago

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It Seems my Lonely Days are Through

↳ story header made by yours truly. I do not own the rights to the image used.

» Pairing(s): Number Five & Teen!Vanya Hargreeves

» Genre(s): Angst, Romance, & Humor

» Warning(s) / Ratings: Swearing / PG-13

» Words: 3.3K

» Summary: ❝Sadly…Just like any other promise…It was made to be broken…❞ Just when Vanya felt that she could rely on Five forever, she knew deep down that he always wanted to time-travel. She just didn't know that he'd say something to their father so soon...

Another day of being left behind. Another point added to her mental scoreboard. Then, this oh so familiar emotion entered her mind. This feeling of being unwanted…unloved…unneeded… No one needed her around. No one wanted her around. And eventually, that feeling became her true companion. Her insecurities heightened. A sad smile became a permanent one. No longer did she wanted to smile because she’s happy but smile to get unwanted questions from a certain someone. Out of all of her siblings, Vanya only cared about having certain judgmental stares from her brother, Five. Ever since he’d grown to trust her with his innermost worries and problems, Vanya didn’t want to disappoint him nor worry him with her own personal issues.

So…just like any other – normal – adolescent…she buried them deep within her psyche and called it a day. As long as Five had someone to vent his problems too, then Vanya was content with bottling up her emotions. Maybe her father giving those pills was a blessing in disguise. It helped suppressed her emotions – her feelings – a lot easier. Though, not enough for her to become this emotionless robot. That’s when Five would raise a few questions and more than likely lash out on either their father, their siblings, or a combination of both. And she didn’t want that. There’s already a tiny riff between Five and her and the rest of the family. She didn’t want it to worsen.

Just like with any family…

They needed each other…

They may not need each other right this moment but eventually they would.

It’s only a matter of seconds…

Taking a deep breath and slowly exhaling, Vanya mustered all of her remaining mental strength to compose herself. She took a glance at the clock, knowing that just like the previous days, her siblings would be returning from their afternoon training session shortly. She didn’t want her siblings, specifically Five, to see her cheeks stained with tears. Her eyes almost bloodshot from the number of tears that trickled down the sides of her precious face.

No. She needed to be strong. Unbothered by the constant ridicule and reminder that she’s simply ordinary. There’s nothing special about her.

With a few more breaths. Vanya managed to compose herself. A somber expression appeared on her face as she picked up her violin, that rested against the couch she had been sitting on. She positioned the violin underneath her chin and against her shoulder. Then, she positioned both the bow and her fingers. Her eyes focused on the sheet music before her. With one final breath, releasing any emotions that threatened to spill out, Vanya began playing. The first few notes were light, almost energetic, Then, it became eerie. Practically haunting as the sounds of rushing footsteps echoed throughout the foyer.

Yup. Like clockwork.

“New song?” The violinist heard Klaus ask. A rare interaction whenever he needed a distraction from his ghoulish friends.

The corners of her lips quirked up as Vanya nodded, continuing to play the beautiful musical piece. Shortly, she became lost to the music. This feeling of tranquility consumed her as she executed each section perfectly. Even her brother, Diego, complimented her playing, and that’s extremely rare. He almost never said anything nice to her. Unless Five managed to persuade Diego to apologize for being an asshole.

She’d always appreciate it when Five came to her protection. With him around, she’s able to lower her shields but even then, it didn’t last long. She’d soon remember what her father, Reginald, had discussed with her weeks prior.

“I told you, Number Seven, I do not want you interfering with your siblings training. They already have enough on their minds and do not need their ordinary sister getting in the way…”

God. She honestly lost count how many times she’d been called ordinary by her dear old dad. She could fill up a jar with how much she’d been called that. That’s how bad it was. That’s how much it’s instilled in her precious mind.

She’s just plain…old…

“I know that look. What did our asshole of a father say to you now?” An oh so familiar voice interrupted her train of thought. Her body flinched as she didn’t expect someone to linger around. And because of that, she accidentally played a few sour notes, causing both her and the other person to wince. Their poor ears.

Vanya then removed the violin from her shoulder and hugged it against her chest. She swiveled her body around and came face-to-face with Five. The one sibling she didn’t want to see right this second.

“It’s nothing, Five.” She said shortly before gently placing her violin back in its case and locking it. “I’ll see you at dinner.” She quickly added, brushing past him and heading to her sanctuary. Her safe haven. Her room.

His brows became knitted together. He drew his lower lip between his teeth as confusion glazed over his eyes. He couldn’t help but follow her retreating body, wondering if he had done something to cause such a strange reaction.

Had he unintentionally lashed out on her and forget to apologize? No, because he had been always careful to never take his frustrations on her. Luther and Diego? Yes. Vanya? Never.

Did he forget about an important secret meeting between? Nah. That couldn’t be it as he personally scheduled them with her. He constantly found himself needing her calm presence. Never vice-versa.

So, why did she run away from him? Why did his heart ache a little as she quickly dismissed his act of concern?

Then, thanks to his highly intelligent brain, Five soon realized that it had to do with the monster that they had to unfortunately call, “father”. He felt like an imbecile for not putting the puzzle pieces together sooner. Five wasn’t blind. He knew that there’s indeed a sudden change within Vanya. He just either didn’t have the time to talk to her about it or weren’t able to get some valuable alone time with her. He had been preoccupied with his spatial jump training or working on how to perfect the act of time-travel. Reginald recommended that he practice his spatial jumping, then Five could learn how to time-travel. Yet week after week, Five had yet to see a change in his training regimen. That only pissed him off even more. Now, the icing on the cake was when he noticed a bigger separation between him and Vanya. She’d either be by Reginald’s side or doing her own thing around the time he and the rest of their siblings are training or on a mission.

He rarely had the chance to hang around her and enjoy her presence. Shit. He started to forget how it felt to hug her. How her body fitted perfectly against his. How, right now, they were at a perfect height that complimented one another.

A faint scoff escaped his lips as an amused smirk slowly appeared on his lips. Five found his thoughts to be quite humorous.

“So…this is what a love sick teen feels like…” He thought, shaking his head as he stuffed his hands inside his pockets. Then, his gaze focused on the grandfather clock nearby. He noted the time and quickly calculated if he had enough time to have some much needed one-on-one time with his beloved Vanya.

Luckily…

He did…

Without a second to lose, he activated his spatial jumping, teleporting himself in the hallway that led to his and his siblings’ bedrooms. He remained still; his ears listened for any sounds that could indicate that someone would be leaving their room. Though, he doubted it as his siblings liked to lock themselves away to obtain a moment of peace. They practically spent every single day with each other. A few hours without being in the presence of another wouldn’t kill them.

Five waited a few more seconds before teleporting himself in front of Vanya’s room. Then, just as he raised his hand to politely knock on her door, he heard a sound that he vowed to never hear again…

Vanya’s cries…

To this day, the sassy teen remembered the first time he heard her heartbreaking sobs. It felt like someone got lucky enough to get a clean on him and repeated those punches. His chest tightened whenever he recalled that ”lovely” memory so vividly.

Not wanting to put him and Vanya through this horrendous torture, Five barged right in and slammed the door shut, uncaring if that were to alert his other siblings. If anything, he prayed that they heard, so they could see what their cruel acts and words had done to his Vanya.

No one would be allowed to cause her tears – and this time – he’d do a fucking better job at protecting her.

She’d never have to go through with this alone ever again.

Without saying a word, Five rushed to her side and kneeled in front of her. Just like when he grew enough balls to rest his hand on top of hers, he did it again. His hands grasped hers just as a few tears landed on his hot skin.

His jaw tightened. Her lips quivered. Love and concern flashed in his eyes while hers remained shut as tears continued to fall. She hated herself for reaching this breaking point but after seeing Five and hearing his voice, she just broke. All of her inner desperate pleas came rushing out the gates in the form of sobs.

She hated having to pretend that there’s nothing between them. No friendship. No adoration. Nothing. Not even a blossoming love that’d be considered taboo in the public eye. She had been forbidden to interact with him. Her one source of happiness.

She absolutely despised it, but if it meant that Five would be one step closer to his potential, then so be it. Strangers they would be.

“Vanya…” Her mind registered the softness in his voice. No. No. No. He shouldn’t be in here. If their father caught them – together – like this, then there’d be Hell to pay. No. Five had to leave.

Choking back a few of her sobs, Vanya controlled her breathing, though it’s proven difficult. Her breathing had become incredibly sporadic. Wild.

“You…have…to…go…” She managed to say even though it’s painful to do so.

Five looked taken back. Hurt burned in his eyes. Why was she shutting him out? Just like how she’s there for him, he’s there for her. He’d be her support whenever she felt like giving up.

She had constantly reminded him that she’s there for him. No matter what.

Now…

It’s his turn…

Gently wiping away the tears with his thumbs, Five allowed his hands to remain on her face. His eyes studied her facial expression, also noting her body language, allowing it to relax just a bit before speaking again. He didn’t want to trigger her again.

“Vanya…” He began; his voice almost a whisper, “Talk to me. What’s on your mind?” He asked, concern dripping on every single word.

Vanya remained silent, slightly leaning against his touch. His cold hand felt nice against her warm cheek. Her gaze studied Five’s face, noting how scared yet concern he was. This would be the second time she had seen that gaze. The first time was when he had found her crying her eyes out after she had yet again been ridiculed by her “loving” siblings for being plain. For being boring. She had tucked herself away inside the garden, that’s placed on the roof, and decided to drown out her tears – her sorrows – with her violin. Though, the moment she did, Five managed to find her with ease. His protective instincts were at an all time high after he overheard Diego and Luther saying horrendous things about her, while Allison, Klaus, and Ben laughed. They didn’t bother coming to her aid.

“Assholes…” He called them as he teleported to wherever Vanya held herself up. While, it took several spatial jumps, Five eventually popped up beside her, accidentally freaking her out and causing her to scream. His ear drums were damaged for a few days after that, but he didn’t pay attention because Vanya smiled as she laughed at his face. The snarl and glare on his face for some strange reason was incredibly hilarious in her eyes. Her laughter was highly addicting to the point that Five did everything and anything to recreate that. In that afternoon, he had the chance – the opportunity – to see a carefree Vanya. A side of her that he hadn’t seen in a long ass time.

Now, here he remained kneeling in front of her, offering words of comfort as he did almost everything to get his sweet Vanya to crack a smile. He’d even asked her to play her favorite musical piece for him, but Vanya simply replied with,

“Maybe later…my heart isn’t into it right now…”

Five, then in response, nodded as he said, “Understandable. Sometimes I wish I had that luxury.”

Vanya sniffled, “What do you mean?”

“Just that,” He began as he finally stood up, stretching his leg muscles. Then, he took a seat next to her and wrapped a protective arm around her shoulders, “You don’t realize this, Vanya, but you’re lucky. You have these amazing chances of taking breaks. Doing everything and anything that your heart desires.” A long sigh escaped his lips, “While with me and the rest of the crime fighting siblings, we don’t. It’s training from sunrise to sundown. And when we’re not training, then it’s those stupid, annoying missions,” He absentmindedly pulled Vanya closer. Her head now rested against the crook of his neck, “While, yes, with our abilities, taking down the bad guys is like an afternoon stroll at the local park. However, doing the same thing over and over gets redundant. Basically boring.” He finished his speech before placing an innocent kiss on her head. Innocent enough it could be seen as an act of sibling love in case their father so happened to stumble on them. With their luck, he’d be right around the corner. Seriously. It’s like Reginald had installed sensors on Vanya’s door and Five’s, alerting him of their so called “canoodling”.

Just thinking about the old man’s lecture frustrated Five to the point that his jaw clenched slightly. Everything that old man did only fueled Five’s innermost hatred towards him.

But that’s not important right now. Vanya’s important and would always be important to him.

Gently rubbing her arm, Five and Vanya remained silent, enjoying each other’s presence. Then, after what seemed like an eternity, Vanya pulled back and created some space but not too much since Five still wanted to hold her. Like a little child clinging onto his or her favorite object. An object that gave him or her a sense of security.

That was Vanya. She was his sense of security. She kept his sanity intact while they both lived in that dysfunctional home.

“Thank you, Five.” She said softy with a sweet smile.

One corner of his mouth titled up. Five displayed his signature smirk. A smirk he had developed only for her but not to be confused with his condescending smile. That smile was reserved for his other siblings, minus Ben. Well. It depended if he partook in the ridiculing of Vanya, then, he’d that smirk and his wrath.

But most of the time, it’s usually Diego, Luther, and Allison that got it. How fitting since it’s the top three soldiers in their odd army.

Soon, his smirk grew into a smile. Then, a sweet and light kiss was placed on Vanya’s forehead.

“Anytime, Vanya. You just need to remember that you’re never alone, especially when you think you are. You’re not. You’ll always have me.” He said just as an alarm went off. Time for dinner. With one final reassuring squeeze on her shoulder, Five stood up and then offered his hand. Vanya smiled brightly and placed her hand into his. The moment he felt her hand, he quickly interlaced their fingers. He’d never grow tired with how well their hands molded together.

Recently, they had started to hold hands but only when they’re alone and certain that no one would catch them. One of the many risks that Allison had warned him about months prior. If only her concern lasted, especially towards Vanya.

But…oh well…

“So, I’m thinking of asking dear old dad about time-travel again.” He stated, stuffing his free hand into the pockets of his shorts.

Vanya’s forehead creased. Her jaw tightened slightly. She knew that Five wanted to time-travel, but he never got any practice because their dad would always reject his request. Today, she knew that it’d be his breaking point if their dad were to say no to Five’s request again. And knowing Five, she knew that he’d give in to his short-temper and do something irrational.

Then, she’d be left all alone…

“Are you sure that’s a wise decision? I mean what if he says no?” She asked, stopping right near the stairway but out of sight from the views of their siblings.

Five sighed, closing his eyes for a moment, “If he says no, then I don’t know.” He turned his head towards Vanya, “I’m tired of being told that I’m not ready, especially since I’ve been practicing those stupid spatial jumps like he told me to. I even managed to work out those pesky equations. Like, what more does he want from me?” He ranted; his voice gradually increased in pitch.

Vanya frowned, squeezing his hand in an act of comfort.

“I know but maybe he’s right. Sure, his explanation can be a tad nicer but perhaps he’s onto something. What if you do manage to successfully time-travel but end up somewhere and have no means to come back.” She stated, voicing her worries.

Five cupped her cheek, gently caressing it, “That’s not going to happen, Vanya. After all, I have you waiting for me back here so of course, I’m going to come back. I just want to see if I can do it. Even if it’s a tiny jump in time, I just want to see.” Then, he unlaced their fingers and pulled her into a warm and loving hug, “Then, with more practice, I’ll take you with me, and we’ll be far away from here. No more siblings who bully you. No more dad that constantly berates you for being ordinary. None of them. It’s just going to be the two of us.” He told her, soothing away her worries. Though, she had a point. What if he were to get stuck in a time with no means of getting back? God. Just the mere thought of Vanya growing up without him scared him. Instilled a fear within his mind. Yet he had to push them away. He needed to do this. To try. Then, his future could officially begin.

With one final squeeze, Five released his hold on special violinist. He flashed her a reassuring smile as if he’d told her to not worry about him nor say a word during dinner.

Just as he turned towards the stairs, he felt a tug on his sleeve. He peered down and saw Vanya’s hand stopping him.

He raised a brow, “What’s wrong?”

“Promise me something.”

“Anything.”

“Promise me that if you were to get stuck somewhere with no means of getting back, that you’d find a way to come back to me.”

Five’s breath hitched. She didn’t need to tell him that. He already knew. He’d do anything and everything to get back to her. His sole reason of even endearing the constant training and annoying siblings that he cared for here and there.

“Promise me, Five.”

“I promise you, Vanya Hargreeves, that I’ll do everything in my power to come back to you.”

Sadly…

Just like any other promise…

It was made to be broken…

“Okay. I’ll be holding you to that, sir.”

“You wound me, dear…”

A/N: Wow! This one is a tad longer than my previous one shot! I just had so much fun writing this one, especially since it kind of goes along with the dinner scene during the flashback scene of episode 2 of the series. I just like how Young Vanya shook her head and then look upset/shock to see Five run out. And then the whole Five screaming out Vanya's name first? Yeah. I just had to write a little something that could add to the fan theories/explanations as to why Five screamed out her name first. Anywho, now that this is done. I'm thinking of doing like a mini-series! Maybe even ask you guys to comment something you'd want to see Five x Vanya do behind closed doors. A funny idea I have right now is Five, giving in to his big ego, proving that he's the better protector than Luther, and the two have this weird competition while Reginald is away. So that should be fun! disclaimer: Now, I'm fully aware of the discourse between whether the Hargreeves are considered to be engaging in incestuous relationships or not (I especially acknowledge the arguments coming from people who are indeed from adopted families). I also know that the fandom will always be divided because of it so please do not send any hate comments on this story. If it is not your cup of tea, then do not read it. Simple as that. Anyway, I hope you guys like this!

Don’t forget to leave a kudos/comment on your thoughts! I love hearing them! :)

- Kim

#the umbrella academy #the umbrella academy fanfic #tua #tua fanfic #tua five #tua vanya #number five #number five fanfic #five hargreeves #five hargreeves fanfic #vanya #vanya fanfic #vanya hargreeves #vanya hargreeves fanfic #five x vanya #/mystories

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nomattertheoceans · 6 years ago

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My thoughts on King of Scars

Ok so first of all, obviously, spoiler alert, do NOT read further if you haven’t read the book (I wanted to put a cut but I don’t have the option on mobile, sorry...)

So yeah I think I need some mindless screaming into the void before I can be constructive, so... OMGVRDCNIUBCHIRUFHEJKDFKLUHOSJDXW THIS BOOK WAS SO SO SO GOOD I WISH I COULD FORGET I READ IT JUST SO I COULD READ IT AGAIN FOR THE FIRST TIME!!!!!! IT WAS SO AMAZING AND SO HEARTBREAKING AND SO FUNNY AND WITTY AND PERFECT UGH

Okay, I feel better now.

So... King of Scars. Where do I start?

Bardugo’s style improved so much since the Grisha Trilogy. It was obvious in the SoC duology, but it’s even more obvious now that she’s writing in the same setting, with some of the same characters. Her writing in this book is so good!

This book actually redeemed her in my eyes for the only thing I hated in SoC: Matthias’ death, that I found pointless and not very well handled. But man, did this book improve on it. Nina hearing his voice, her thinking of him when she talks about being a widow for her cover. The whole burying scene had me crying the entire time, it was so well written and so full of emotions, you could actually feel Nina get some form of closure from it, and it helped me accept his death too. So well done.

The prologue was great! I loved these in SoC and I’m glad she kept going with the idea, because introducing Nikolai and Zoya that way was a really good way to get the feeling of the current situation (and the POV of a random stranger works as well as it did in the duology).

NINA THINKING ABOUT THE CROWS ugh I’m dead, it was so amazing to read about how she wanted Inej to be with her to bury Matthias, how she used Kaz’s advice to craft her plan, how she thought about having inherited Jesper’s gift for bad decisions (I actually laughed out loud at that one XD). The whole idea that her year in Ketterdam really changed her and helped her grow into a better defender of the Grisha (even though she’s not as good at following orders ;) ), this was great. I miss the Crows so much.... OH AND NIKOLAI LEARNED TO PICK LOCKS WITH KAZ AND HE THINKS ABOUT HIM THAT WAS A GREAT REFERENCE TOO! Also, the fact that Leoni was the little girl saved by Jesper’s mom, that was such a great coincidence, I hope at some point they might meet and realize the connection, I don’t know how but it was a great detail to include, Leoni saving people thanks to Jesper’s mom’s sacrifice. (Yes, any reference to the Crows had me giggling to my book, I admit it)

So, I know a lot of people are going to be mad at me about this one because a lot of people hold the Darkling in high esteem, but the fact that he was framed as the main villain throughout the Nikolai/Zoya storyline felt really good to me. I honestly never understood how people could see him as a good person after everything that happened and that we learned in the Trilogy, and the fact that Bardugo focused mainly on him as the villain in Zoya’s story was a very good choice. Zoya feels angry and ashamed at how much she adored him and how he manipulated her and everyone around him. She cannot imagine people seeing him as a Saint because she witnessed his actions first hand and was also a victim of it, so she’s angry that even after all this, people can still ignore what he did. She’s mainly angry at herself about all this I think, but it was interesting to see this in her point of view. Continuing on the subject of The Darkling... OMG him being back at the end, I was so angry that he just wouldn’t STAY DEAD!! But I’m glad he’s back because I think his character in Bardugo’s improved style is going to be awesome (and I low-key want people to finally see him as the villain he is, but again, don’t be too angry at me, please!)

David and Genya are married now!! So are Nadia and Tamar!! And Tolya and his poetry XD and Adrik! It felt so good getting to reunite with all the Grisha characters, to see them evolve (again, thanks to Bardugo’s evolution in her writing) and become even greater than they were.

The secret laboratory was such a great addition, I can’t wait to see more of it!!! Also, Nikolai building a secret laboratory under a place of debauchery is SUCH a Nikolai thing to do XD

Nina in Fjerda is... so many emotions all along her storyline, it felt great. Knowing that she mostly managed to get over her addiction made me happy, she’s still an addict of course (kudos to Bardugo for including the fact that you never truly get over an addiction and that sobriety is a work of every day) but she managed to move past it and that’s great. Her new power is amazing but at the same time you can feel her nostalgia when she teaches Hanne, the fact that she stills misses her old powers. The experiments on the pregnant women were terrible, and so well-written, every scene with them killed me a little bit.

Hanne’s character is so good! I really love all of her evolution throughout the book, the way she’s willing to rebel at first but in small ways, and that she ends up actually rebelling with Nina. Also, even though I want it to be slow because I don’t think Nina is over Matthias yet, but UGH the way Nina describes her as so beautiful, I can’t wait for them to grow closer and maybe have a love story! Hanne’s being Brum’s daughter surprised me but in a good way, I love the irony that this monster would have a Grisha daughter (I hope he’ll find out at some point), and I love the way this laid out the plot line for the next book! Nina at the Ice Court!!!!! This is such an exciting thing to look forward to!

The whole Isaak storyline was great and ugh I was so NOT expecting this ending for it, I guess I’m a hopeless romantic because I wanted him to end up with the princess haha (but then I guess that’s what Leigh wanted us to think so good job ^^) and I really didn’t see the assassination coming! I had some doubts about the princess and the guard being interchanged but I had no idea what would be the point of that, so I guess I was seeing only half of the picture.

The fact that Nikolai was officially described as having some form of ADHD, this was a great scene, all of his childhood difficulties, and his friendship with Dominik, too. I loved all of this. I already loved Nikolai before (I mean... who didn’t?) but I love him so much more now! His struggle as King and doing what’s best for his country, knowing that letting his heart talk for him would be a mistake, preparing replacements for him in case something happens... I love him so much!!

Zoya... Zoya Zoya Zoya. She’s a great character, and she’s so interesting and complex and I’m so glad Leigh expanded on her character because it’s not often that women get to be strong and ruthless and beautiful and cold and not the villain of the story. So yeah, I love Zoya, she is amazing and all of her struggle over her past with The Darkling made her even more interesting than she used to be.

Finally, I think I’m going to end with Nikolai/Zoya relationship. I wasn’t completely sold at first, but then Nikolai had to go and think that:

“He’d come to recognize the bizarre phenomenon of Zoya’s beauty, the way men loved to create stories around it. They said she was cruel because she’d been harmed in the past. They claimed she was cold because she just hadn’t met the right fellow to warm her. Anything to soften her edges and sweeten her disposition - and what was the fun in that? Zoya’s company was like strong drink. Bracing - and best to abstain if you couldn’t handle the kick.”

And I was completely on board, never to leave again. Seriously. This quote is so perfect. Nikolai gets her, he loves being with her and how challenging she is to him, and he likes her just like she is, he doesn’t want her to change. And that’s great. Anyway, I really love their relationship throughout the book, its a challenging one but you can feel how much they like to work together and spend time together. The whole exchange when Zoya shows him the scars and he’s the first man she’d told the truth to... That was perfect. But omg, I knew there was going to be some sort of engagement for Nikolai (he’s a king after all), and during the entire book, him and Zoya both repeat more than once that they know it could never work if they let themself feel something for the other, but man I was NOT ready for Nikolai to get engaged to the Shu princess in the end.... Anyway, yes, I love them apart, and I love them together, and I can’t wait to read what happens next.

So overall, another amazing book to strengthen my complete obsession with the Grishaverse!! I will probably post a lot more about it in the coming days/weeks, and probably reread it! If you want to talk about it, don’t hesitate!!!

#grishaverse #king of scars #king of scars spoilers #king of scars spoiler #kos spoilers #kos spoiler #leigh bardugo #nina zenik #nikolai lantsov #zoya nazyalensky #nikolai duology #my thoughts on stuff

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imagine-loki · 6 years ago

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Monsters and Magic

TITLE: Monsters and Magic CHAPTER NO./ONE SHOT: 28/? AUTHOR: nekoamamori ORIGINAL IMAGINE: Imagine you’re a vampire who helps the Avengers defeat an evil seethe of other vampires, and Loki befriends you after you end up in their custody RATING: T (so far) NOTES/WARNINGS: Also on AO3 click here

The Bifrost let you out in its usual place next to the tower and you stumbled your way out. Loki’s arm tightened around you drawing you quickly out of the Bifrost’s light before you could be called back to Asgard.

You stumbled the few steps, not expecting him to keep running with you, but you steadied yourself quickly. “Are you alright, darling?”

You nodded and managed to give him a tiny smile. “I’m alright,” you reassured him quickly. Physically you were fine. Your emotions, however, left something to be desired.

Loki wrinkled his nose. “You cannot lie to me, kitten. How are you really?” he asked softly, pressing you for a more honest answer.

You sighed heavily, the last hour grating hard on your usually good temper. “How do you think I’m going after Odin’s little speech?” you growled with tears of hurt and anger in your eyes.

Loki pulled you into a hug, stroking your hair. “He does not know you as I do, my love,” he told you softly and tilted your head up with his fingers under your chin so he could kiss you gently. “Come on, darling. Let’s head inside. I’m sure our friends will be happy to see us,”

“Maybe…” you told him doubtfully, shaken by Odin’s harsh words, especially since Odin hadn’t lied about the nature of vampires. He had just neglected to understand that you weren’t like the others of your kind. Still, you were shaken by Odin’s sheer amount of hate, of being called an it, thing, creature, and monster all in one speech. You still took Loki’s hand to walk into the tower with him.

“I know at least Bucky and Stark will be glad to see you,” Loki prodded, trying to cheer you up with mention of your friends who accepted who you were.

“True,” you admitted softly, then gave him a small smile. “You’re not allowed to stab them even if they want to hug me,” you reminded him firmly. Loki wasn’t so bad about stabbing the others anymore, except Thor, unless they did something to actively piss him off, including such offenses as hugging you, or gods forbid, him. “Though you don’t have to worry about Stark on that point. He doesn’t do hugs,”

“True. And you’re the only one I let hug me,” he reminded you, kissing the top of your head. He’d put up with them hugging you to make you feel better. He wouldn’t put up with them hugging him.

You laughed. “Don’t let them hear that. They’ll take it as a challenge,” you teased, enjoying the normalcy of the teasing.

“Let them try,” he replied with a smirk and mischief in his eyes.

“You wouldn’t really stab Nat?!?” you exclaimed disbelieving. You couldn’t imagine him actually stabbing her. The others were debatable, but even Loki tended not to stab ladies, unless they were actively trying to kill him.

“Lady Natasha is safe from me. She means too much to you,” he told you warmly, reassuringly.

“But Stark isn’t?” you teased. Stark had cared for you before you’d even become a vampire.

“With all of the derogatory nicknames? Never,” he replied with a smirk.

“Whatever you say, noodle,” you replied, trying for normal, but still hurt by Odin’s words and actions. It wasn’t something you could just shake off.

“Dearheart, what can I do to put that lovely smile back on your face?” he asked you softly, noting your mood and how very hard you were trying for normal. And failing apparently.

“Loki…” you whimpered with tears in your eyes. You hugged him tightly, burying your face against his chest. “H-he called me all those things!” you wailed your heartbreak at your Loki. You were usually so careful to keep up your happy bubbly personality. Usually only Loki could get to your real emotions.

His arms wrapped tightly around you, holding you safely to him as he stroked your hair. “Odin has never been kind, darling. The only person he cares about is Frigga, maybe occasionally Thor. Don’t listen to him. You are not anything that he said. He doesn’t know you like I do. You are too good, too kind, too light-hearted to be consider anything other than an angel,” he told you warmly.

“Promise?” you asked him softly, demanding the truth from the god of lies. “Even with what I am?” you added, hurt and unsure thanks to Odin’s cruel words.

“I may be the God of Lies but I would never lie to you, dearheart. You are my angel,” he reassured you as his fingers ran through your hair. You roughly dried your eyes and kissed Loki moments before the elevator doors opened.

“Kids, you’re back early!” Clint announced happily, telling the others you were home too. Most of them were spread around the living room and looked up with greetings as you got off the elevator.

“We are not children, Barton,” Loki replied, glaring over your head at Clint, but you could see he didn’t really mean the glare, not when the teasing was so innocent and friendly.

“Uh-huh, sure you aren’t,” Clint replied, teasing but not unkindly. You took Loki’s hand and walked with him into the living room proper.

“Have you two eaten? Dinner’s almost ready!” Nat called from the kitchen. You called back that you hadn’t eaten. You leaned up and kissed Loki’s cheek.

“I’m going to heat up something to eat, so stop fretting, noodle,” you teased him. He fretted when you didn’t drink enough blood and he’d be worried over you after Odin upset everyone.

"Where’s your brother, Odinson?“ Bucky asked as you tried to walk past him. He stole a hug from you when you tried to walk past him without a hug. He was glad to see you back safely. He worried over you when you were gone. It was a strong bond you’d formed in the hell of Hydra.

“My brother is still on Asgard. He has to work things out with the Allfather,” Loki explained, amused instead of angry that Bucky had stolen a hug.

“Buck, get your stupid metal arm off me!” You whined when the hug lasted too long. Bucky just laughed.

“You’re sad, Striga,” he informed you as if you didn’t already know that. “Do I have to beat up boyfriend for you?” he asked with a grin, but the threat was real. He’d beat up Loki for making you sad or hurting you.

Loki glared at Bucky. “Why do you assume this is my fault?” he protested indignantly.

Bucky shrugged, finally letting you go. “I’ve been told it’s the safe assumption when the god of mischief is involved,” he replied as you finally made it to the kitchen. You hugged Nat quickly, making her smile, before you summoned a coffee mug full of blood from your little fridge upstairs and shoving it in the microwave.

“Kid, do you have to make that in the downstairs microwave?” Clint teased when the microwave beeped, you had pulled the mug from the microwave, and he could presumably smell the blood. Or just knew what was inside.

“Sorry,” you murmured, not looking at him, much more shyly than usual.

Loki glared at Clint. “Not now, Barton,” he snarled in warning, noting the tears that were forming in your eyes.

“Danger Noodle! We weren’t expecting you guys back so soon,” Tony announced from the elevator. He wasn’t happy to see Loki per se, but he would be glad you were home safely. “Where’s Tinkerbell and Goldilocks?” he asked, unable to see you from the elevator. Though he could see Loki and Clint. You were trying to figure out how to keep Clint from getting stabbed for making a stupid joke. You set your mug on the counter without having touched it’s contents… as per usual and rushed back into the living room to greet Tony.

“Hey Stark,” you told him warmly, stopping just short of hugging him. Thor had to stay awhile longer and deal with Odin. Hopefully he’ll be home soon,” you explained.

“Why’s he dealing with Odin?” Tony asked and ruffled your hair, as close to real affection as he got.

“The Allfather is an idiot,” Loki replied sourly, but without more explanation given.

“You think everyone is an idiot,” Stark replied dryly, teasing Loki a little, goading him into telling more of the story.

“Right now the Allfather is even more idiotic than usual,” Loki grumbled, sparing you a glance. He didn’t want your feelings hurt even more than they had been already. Stark caught the glance and glared, wondering what Odin had done to you.

Nat set the giant pot of Russian stew on the dining room table and food called everyone one of the superheros to the table to take their usual places. Heavy conversation held nothing to dinner. Loki pulled out your chair for you and kissed your cheek when you were seated. Nat touched Loki’s shoulder lightly as she passed on the way to her own place. It was the closest anyone can get to hugging him besides you, a reassuring, friendly touch. “Are you two ok?” she asked astutely, having caught both of your moods.

Loki gave her a warm smile. He liked Nat. For all that she was often the scariest person in the room, she was kind to those she liked. Loki could appreciate that. “We’re fine for now. Odin just had to open his mouth. I’ll figure it out. Though I could use your help in cheering up the little vamp,” he said warmly and kissed your cheek from where you were stirring your stew without really eating it.

“I’m sure we can come up with something. At your expense, Danger Noodle,” Stark teased, trying to get you to laugh or smile, or do anything besides stare sadly at your bowl of stew.

“So either of you going to tell us what actually happened on Asgard?” Clint demanded finally, curiosity apparently eating him alive. You flushed and wouldn’t look at him.

“Money is no expense for the happiness of my darling,” Loki told Stark, misunderstanding Stark’s teasing. He looked over at you with a sigh. “Do you want to tell them, dearheart?” he asked you gently.

“I didn’t say money, now did I?” Tony asked with a grin. “Money is no issue, I’d buy her whatever she wanted to make her happy if she’d actually allow it. Figuring out how to humiliate the crap out of you and get her to smile at the same time, now that would be fun,” he teased, smirking at Loki.

“Stark, play nice,” you scolded him. You were one of the few people Tony actually listened to. Pepper was one of the few others. You ignored Loki’s evil glare at Stark and began to speak instead.

You told them pieces of the trip, sticking to happy things like the beauty of Asgard, the gardens, the market, how you could be out in the sun there. You wound up in a long conversation with Tony about the technology in the healing wing and promised him that you’d stolen some of the specs to Jarvis, which you’d download later for him.

“Who let them get started on a science tangent?” Clint whined, banging his head on the table at the incomprehensible conversation. The rest of the team laughed at his misfortune, though Bruce seemed to keep up and even Thor didn’t look totally confused. You finished telling them all about Asgard, completely skipping the part where Odin was an ass and called you all sorts of awful things before kicking you from the realm.

“Darling, your friends probably wish to know why we are back early,” Loki reminded you gently. He knew you cared about the team and they for you.

You looked at him with angry hurt tears in your eyes. “I’m sure they do,” you grumbled at him. “I, however, don’t want to talk about it,” you told him with a small whimper to your voice. You didn’t want to have to relieve that awful scene in the telling.

“Understandable, darling,” he told you and kissed your forehead. “You don’t have to tell them” he added, reassuring. “You should probably get some rest. It’s been a long day,” he suggested gently.

“AKA you want me to go away so you can tell them yourself?” you teased him lightly, trying so hard for things to be normal. You kissed his cheek and vanished your dinnerwear clean to the cabinets. “I would like to find something besides a dress to wear,” you gave a reasonable excuse to leave the dining room and head upstairs.

Loki sighed as he watched you leave and didn’t turn his attention back to the team until you were safely in the elevator and well out of earshot. “My mother and I tried to cast a spell to hide the fact that my lady’s heart does not beat. We thought it best not to advertise what she is. However, the Allfather’s staff saw through the spell and he found out that she is actually a vampire. His reaction was unpleasant to say the least…”

“He knew about vampires?” Bucky asked, unsure what Asgardians would know about vampires. He didn’t think they existed on Asgard. Bucky was willing to speak up since he was one of the few people Loki actually liked.

“It appears so,” he sighed heavily. “He called her so many names and said such awful things about her. I have no idea how she will get over this visit,”

“He did what now?” demanded most of the table’s occupants. Nat actually reached for a gun as if to go shoot Odin in the head for being mean

“Lady Natasha, there is not much you would be able to do with that. But I appreciate the sentiment,” Loki told her with a small chuckle. He relaxed that the team was so willing to defend and protect you, to make you feel better. “The Allfather has very little care for the feelings of others. He even believed that Y/N actually enchanted my mother and myself,” he added softly, knowing the team would understand your feelings if he told them the whole story.

Stark seemed to consider that “He was probably trying to explain the vampire’s mind control ability in a way your people would understand,” he mused. Then added quickly at Loki’s glare “Not that Tinkerbell would do that to you or your mom, but she can;I’ve seen her do it before…”

“No, Stark. That was certainly not the Allfather’s intentions,” Loki countered quickly before anyone could become sympathetic with what Odin did or said.

“And what were his intentions, besides to be an ass?” Nat growled, not quite giving up on her brilliant shooting Odin idea. Bucky looked like he was jumping onboard of her idea too.

Loki sighed. “His intentions were, I assume, to protect Asgard. But he was protecting Asgard from someone who would rather be something else than what she was forced into being. Hel, most of the time I think she would rather be dead than be what she is…”

�� “He was… protecting Asgard… from the least vampiric vampire ever? The tiny little girl who screamed from on top of the coffee table for you to kill a spider for her?” Bucky asked indignantly.

Loki laughed, remembering the incident. He’d come running at your screams, daggers drawn only to find you on top of the coffee table pointing at a not that big spider begging him to kill it for you. “The very same. He does not know her, and did not even give her a chance. He refused to look past her condition and took out his fear and anger on her in front of nearly all of the nobles in Asgard,” he explained.

“That’s going to take awhile to fix,” Stark sighed, glancing sadly at the elevator you’d disappeared into. “And needless to say she's not going back to Asgard,” he growled protectively.

"Didn’t you hear how excited she was talking about spending the afternoon in the sun?” Clint asked sadly, nearly heartbroken at the knowledge that they they couldn’t give you that here.

Nat sighed heavily “We already have to remind her 90% of the time to actually eat something. She was finally starting to get better and trust us. This is going to set her back,” she added. “Speaking of, looks like she set the mug in the kitchen and “forgot” about it… again…” she noted that your mug of blood was where you’d abandoned it. “Someone will have to remind her to drink it later,”

Loki sighed and looked sad as he remembered how delighted you’d been at seeing the sun, dancing in it. “I wish I could give her the sun back. Maybe there’s a spell…” he mused aloud.

“That sounds a little far-fetched, even for magic,” Bucky told him kindly, trying to make sure he didn’t get his hopes up. He didn’t want Loki hurt for not being able to give you the impossible.

Before Loki could answer, Thor came bursting into the room and plopped into his chair, immediately going for the pot of stew with barely a hello to the others. Loki looked up at him and glared when he didn’t say anything. “Brother, what happened?” Loki demanded impatiently.

“Father is angry, of course, but he is not going to chase you here. Either of you. Mother beat some sense into him. You are forgiven as long as we leave your lady behind when we return to visit,” Thor explained around bites of stew. He hadn’t had dinner yet and the bottomless pit was starving.

“When must we return?” Loki asked, catching the hint in Thor’s tone that a return visit was already planned.

“Mother’s birthday in a few weeks,” Thor answered hesitantly. Loki wouldn’t want to leave you that soon, even for a short visit home and he would hate that he had to leave you behind when you’d loved Asgard until Odin had messed everything up.

Loki sighed heavily instead of yelling at his brother. “Mother would wish to see her as well…”

“Mother would rather she be safe,” Thor countered, logically, trying to break Loki’s self-deprecating mood. He could see Loki blamed himself for even bringing you to Asgard in the first place. “Speaking of, where is your darling?” Thor looked around confused, as you usually weren’t anywhere alone

“You’re right,” Loki admitted stiffly, hating when Thor was right. “And she went back to her room. Though I should go check on her,” he stood from the table to see where you’d wandered off to, knowing it wouldn’t have taken you that long to change clothes.

He found you on the couch in your suite with a book open on your lap, where it had fallen when you’d dozed off reading. You’d had too big of an adventure that day and had just closed your eyes for a moment. Loki smiled at you warmly and lifted you gently from the couch, cradling you safely in his arms. He tucked you carefully in your bed. “Sleep well, my darling,” he bid you warmly and placed a kiss on your forehead. He returned to the common room downstairs. “She fell asleep,” he told the worried group when they looked up.

Nat raised an eyebrow. “And you let her stay that way without eating something? You’re usually more overprotective than that, especially when she’s been playing with magic,” she accused, surprised that Loki wouldn’t force you to eat something.

“I’ll get her to eat something as soon as she wakes. She’s dealt with a lot. Pressuring her right now would only make things worse,” Loki explained, tired and exasperated by everything. He settled on the couch with a book to try to relax for a little while.

The entire team settled in the livingroom to entertain themselves for awhile and it wasn’t too terribly long before you woke and when you realized their conversation must be over since you were in your own bed and not where you’d fallen asleep, and made your way back down to the common room. You went straight to Loki first and leaned down to kiss him, the pendant he’d bought her dangling briefly in front of his eyes as you leaned down.

Loki’s eyes lit up with an idea and you smiled warmly at his expression. “Darling, may I see your pendant?” he asked you. You raised an eyebrow, wondering what he was up to, but unclasped the necklace and handed it to him before you took your usual spot on the couch. You watched as his hand turned green while he looked at the spellbook in his hand and his lips moved as he recited an incantation over your necklace. He moved and re-clasped the necklace around your neck when he was done. “That should allow you to spend more time outside without going blind,” he told you warmly when the necklace was back in place.

You just stared at him in shock. “B-but… that shouldn’t be possible… even with magic,” you protested. You’d been studying magic and had a good grasp on what things should be possible or not.

He chuckled. “I am no ordinary wizard, sweetheart,” he reminded you with a smirk.

“And yet, you and Strange decided it was an excellent idea to have a duel, using only Harry Potter spells,” you reminded him, laughing at the memory of that adventure.

“It was fun though,” he replied with a smug smirk. He’d won that match, which had upset Strange because Loki wasn’t even from Earth and should not be better at a Harry Potter based duel.

“Of course it was, noodle,” you teased him.

Nat turned to the group “We are still introducing the boys to Star Wars tonight?” she asked. It had been on the list of pop culture to catch the Asgardians and frozen in time boys.

“Star Wars?” Loki asked you confused.

“An amazing movie about adventures in space,” you explained quickly as you jumped off of the couch to grab the DVDs from the rack by the TV. “You guys start with one or four?” you asked the others. They debated for a moment before the consensus came to start with four because you had in your company the last untainted adults in the world in regards to the plot twist about Darth Vader, though everyone was careful not to say what the plot twist was and ruin the reactions of the untainted adults. Loki looked suspicious of the movie. “I can’t imagine you not liking it, Lokes,” you reassured him as you shoved the DVD in the player before returning to the couch to cuddle up with your Loki for the movie. He settled the couch blanket around you and contentedly held you in his arms. He would put up with even a bad movie if it meant you stayed in his arms.

The whole team got invested in the movies, but you all turned to stare expectantly for the reactions of the last untainted adults when the “No, I am your father line” was spoken in Empire Strikes Back. You weren’t disappointed at all. There were looks of shock and confusion and they were all worth it. Even Loki couldn’t help the gasp that escaped his lips, though he was trying to remain stoic, especially when he saw the eyes of the team on him. You smirked up at him, catching the small gasp. Cap, Bucky, and Thor all had much larger confused reactions, so his secret was safe. He smiled down at you and kissed the top of your head before he returned his focus to the movie.

“Are you guys up to the third one?” you asked the drowsy crowd of superheros. It was quite late, but they all insisted that they needed to finish the trilogy at least. You sighed and hoped you wouldn’t be carrying everyone to bed after the movie.

“Maybe we should continue this another night, darling,” Loki suggested, looking over the mortals concerned that they wouldn’t make it through a third movie.

“NO!!” Protested the drowsy mortals “You can’t have a Star Wars marathon without watching the entire trilogy!” They whined. It wasn’t just one of them. It was all of them.

You sighed. “I think logic has been outvoted,” you told Loki heavily

He groaned. “Very well, then,” he sighed. You laughed and curled back up with him to enjoy the last movie.

A couple hours later, the movie was over and the mortals were predictably passed out around the living room. You looked up at Loki to see if he survived the movie trilogy or passed out too. He needed less sleep than the mortals, but still… He smirked down at where you were snuggled in his arms, perfectly still awake. “Looks like we have to get this lot to bed,” he told you warmly.

You sighed and extracted yourself from his arms. “So it appears. You’ll have to get Cap, Bruce, and Bucky. None of them have invited me into their rooms… I can get Stark, Nat, and Clint,”

Loki chuckled. “I can make this a bit easier for both of us,” he told you and with a wave of his hand had teleported the rest of the team back to their rooms.

You sighed in relief. “That is much easier,” you told him appreciatively and he preened under the praise of his magic. “So what should we do with the rest of our night?” you asked, but considered him. “Though you should probably get some sleep too,” you reminded him. While he needed less sleep than most of the rest of you, it had still been a long time since he gotten any sleep.

“You’re right. And I’ve used too much magic without any rest,” he admitted as he got to his feet. “Care to join me?” he asked you, knowing you didn’t sleep well alone after Hydra.

“If you don’t mind the company,” you replied, knowing just as well that he could be touchy about his personal space and that he tended not to get as much alone time as he was used to since he met you.

“I always enjoy your company, dearheart,” he reassured you with a loving gentle smile.

You returned the smile. “Yes, but you need alone time too, sometimes and I respect that,” you reminded him warmly, reassuring him that you cared about his feelings and his needs too.

“Would you prefer some time to yourself while I get some sleep?” he asked.

“Prefer? No,” you told him and couldn’t quite keep the hint of fear from your voice. You still didn’t care to be alone after the incident with Hydra.

“Don’t fret, love. You will always be safe with me,” he told you and grabbed your hand, pulling you along behind him all the way to his room. You laughed and relaxed at his silly antics.

When you finally reached his room, he magiced on a pair of pajamas and settled comfortably in his bed. You followed suit, joining him. “I only need a couple hours of sleep,” he reminded you. “You can do whatever you wish while I sleep. It won’t disturb me,” he reassured you.

You smirked. “So annoy you with kisses?” you teased, but summoned a book to read, reassuring him that you were only teasing.

“I would not object to that,” he replied, smiling sleepily, already starting to doze off.

“Sure you wouldn’t,” you replied, stroking his hair with one hand while you held your book in the other. “Get some sleep, love. I’ll stand guard,” you reassured him as he was falling asleep.

“My feisty kitten,”

You giggled and leaned down to kiss his forehead. “Shh, go to sleep.“ He must have been comfortable with you, because he slept a lot longer than a couple of hours.

#Loki #Lover #Submitted fic #submission #monsters and magic #chapter 28 #nekoamamori

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xellzios · 7 years ago

Text

Lifetime: Lost Love

Lifetime: Lost Love || Love Found

Disclaimer: A Kenference of some sort, a little throwback to Touka and Ken’s evolving relationship through some of the most iconic scenes in the manga. It is a two-part series and the titles should give you an idea on what to expect. Hope you enjoy. Thank you so much @hamliet for being awesome and to @mamasaiko for helping me read through the manga!

These were the instrumentals I listened to while making this: [x], [x], [x], [x]

Words: 9451 (I cannot seem to make anything under 5,000. The combined two parts is about 15,000+)

Rating: Angst, Drama

PREVIEW:

Kuro: “If you died, Touka-chan, I would probably be… sad.”

Shiro: “I wonder why.”

240: “Useless, pathetic. Couldn’t save, couldn’t do anything.”

Haise: “It’s delicious, it really is.”

Reaper: “You’re a cruel one, Touka.”

I. It started with a worried touch on her shoulder – one she never expected, one that made her world take a turn.

“If you died, Touka-chan, I would probably be… sad.”

She felt her heart skip a beat. Maybe it was the way he said it – the sincere, melancholic tone of his voice as he uttered every word. Maybe it was the way his eyes looked down in surrender and dejection. And yet, even after all her taunts and jabs, she could see that there was a small part of his actions which pleaded her to reconsider.

Because he cared.

He was just a brat that was thrust into this world, who now suffered the consequences of being a ghoul. He was someone who called her a monster, someone whose ass she had to save a couple of times as he walked into the darkest alley of the world. He was just another person who never felt the hardships that ghouls had to go through.

And yet, he chose to go with her and offered her a kind smile.

Slowly, he bent down to her level and used one of his legs to support his weight. He proceeded on lifting up the sleeves of her uniform to tend to her injury. And then he worked silently, even getting disinfectants out of a small medical box to tend to her. Touka allowed him to, looking away in the opposite direction as a faint blush crept on her face.

Ken Kaneki’s words didn’t dare leave her thoughts as he worked on her wounds.

All her life, there had been no one who accepted her as a ghoul, except her fellow kin. All her life, even though all she wanted was to live peacefully, she had to face the harsh reality of what being a ghoul entailed. Her mother died because they were hunted, leaving her father in endless misery as he could never come to terms with her death. In turn, he too had to suffer the consequences of his actions and she was left alone to take care of her brother. They were forced out of their home, hunted like animals and had to live by themselves in the streets. Life had been cruel and even when she thought that it would finally get better after meeting the manager, her brother had to disappear in his quest to get stronger.

One by one, all the people she cared for, all the people she loved, disappeared from her life.

For someone to tell her that she was significant, that her life was precious in his own way made her feel like maybe, maybe living wouldn’t be so bad at all even for a ghoul like her. For him to reach out to her, to reassure her that she mattered – for him to choose to stand by her, even though he already knew the dangers she would be facing from now on? It was enough to tell her that maybe he wasn’t bad after all.

“There, it’s all cleaned up,” Kaneki told her, rolling the sleeves of her uniform back down. He looked at his handy work, a satisfied smile erupting on his lips and then he directed the warmth of that smile to her. “Does it hurt?”

”N-no,” Touka’s cheeks flushed, her eyes not daring to look at his as she stared at the ground.

Kaneki was pleased with her response, knowing that she would never really say anything besides that. He stood up, smoothening his pants before he reached out a hand towards her to help her stand.

It made her divert her gaze at the small garbage can that was present at the back of the café instead, heart racing as her mind was flooded with questions. “Why are you sticking your nose in my business?”

She wanted to know if he was just being kind because she was injured, if it was just his personality to be like this. She wanted to validate the sincerity in his voice when he told her those words. “Because I care about you,” he muttered, his hand still reaching out for her to take, his voice laced with surprise. “I want to help you.”

“Why?”

Why would someone like him care about the plight of a ghoul? For all she knew, he could still lead a normal life as a half-breed. He had an identity as a human, had been a part of them. For someone like him who treated them like monsters, what caused him to change?

“Do I need a reason to care about you, Touka-chan?” Kaneki asked as he drew his hand back and opted to sit next to her instead. “You’re a dear person to me.”

She looked at him, eyes wide and mouth agape at his words. He was looking at the floor and yet his eyes showed a wistful look at he contemplated what to say. “You’re kind and strong,” he looked at his hand as he counted, beaming, “you care a lot and let’s see,” he stopped, “you saved me and made me see the world in a different view, along with the manager and everyone.”

There was a huge truth in that, because Ken Kaneki knew that if it wasn’t for this experience, he would never have realized how much he valued them and his time here, how much more he wanted to help them and walk by their side. It was the first time he felt like this, it was the first time he found a place he belonged. He looked at her and grinned, “I still don’t think killing is the way to make Hinami-chan happy, but you living and being there for her will.”

“I’m a murderer,” she muttered once more, hugging both of her legs and resting her chin on them. The reality of the words made her sick. “I don’t deserve to live.”

“All of us were given a life, it’s our right.” He sighed loud enough for her to hear, “for us, you are Touka, nothing more and nothing less.”

It was in that moment that her perception of him changed, the exact moment where she vowed to keep living because she realized the truth in his words.

It was in that moment that Ken Kaneki had saved Touka Kirishima for the first time.

II. It drifted apart with words muttered out of spite – as the unspoken words from the heart were left unsaid, feelings which would get buried in time memoriam.

“Why did you have to change?”

Touka could feel her voice breaking with every word that came out of her mouth. All of her loneliness, all of her heartbreak – they have now been thrust with force into the punches she had jabbed in his face.

She wished it wouldn’t have to be like this, wished that they would’ve met under other circumstances. She knew he had been suffering, carrying the burden alone after all this time. All she wanted was to tell him that she was still here, that she had been waiting for him to come back – and yet she had spilled all her anger and resentment of the world in his face.

She almost didn’t hear want to hear it anymore – the voice that was deeply entwined with sadness, the voice of a soul who lost himself and had no idea on how to come back. She didn’t want to because she had no idea if she would ever get him back from it.

There was always the lingering feeling of guilt, of not being strong enough to prevent this, of not being there to protect him and save him before he had to suffer such terrible lengths. It wasn’t even his fault that he became a one-eyed ghoul. Every day, her regret would eat her as she realized what she had lost that day when Aogiri decided to investigate Anteiku. It was the same day Touka saw her brother again – Ayato had grown and yet his hatred was still strong as ever, choosing instead to hate the world that had once forsaken them. It was then when she realized once again what she had lost, not knowing what she was about to lose.

She mourned the fact that she had lost Kaneki entirely – his whole being enveloped with the despair and solitude that continued to feast on his soul. Had she been strong enough then maybe, he would have still been there – working at the café with the rest of them. She wouldn’t have had to see Hinami’s sad and lonely eyes that only lit up whenever she saw them, wouldn’t have had to experience her helplessness whenever they would talk about Kaneki. It was always heartbreaking to see loved ones suffer – no one deserved this – not him, not Hinami, not anyone really.

If it wasn’t for that day, she would also never have had to experience being torn apart by the fact that this man underneath her was a person she loved – changed by the world and all the circumstances around him, changed by the fact that he became a ghoul.

Where did those kind, gentle eyes go to? Where did his smile disappear? What did they do to him that he had to change and burden himself more with everything that wasn’t even inside his control? How could she even think of saving him from it, how could she even lift up his misery? She wished she could wash away all his pain, all his misery, and fight his darkness with him.

But she knew the answer – she couldn’t because he wouldn’t have allowed her to, and it pained her in every possible way.

Tears fell from her eyes as she held onto his shirt, clutching it tightly. All her regret had pooled into these tears she had tried to keep at bay all this time, all the feelings she had wanted to say spilling their depths into her eyes.

She gritted her teeth to control the intensity of her sobs. She had held onto his promise – a promise that said that he wouldn’t leave her alone, a promise that she had valued more than she thought of. She was tired of losing everyone she loved just because they were ghouls, she was tired of having to live this kind of life just because of who they were.

This was why she hated this life and resigned to the fact that she too never deserved to live – because they were treated like scums – monsters who were thought to have chosen this way of life. She detested this with every part of her being and yet she couldn’t do anything about it, choosing instead to live the life she was given but was prepared to die at any given time.

And yet, with his words, she was able to find solace on who she was – not because she was a ghoul, but because of who she was, a person whom he deemed worthy of living. It pained her that the circumstances have changed, that should she let him go, she was afraid she would never see him again. All she wanted was to have him back.

All she wanted was to save him.

“It didn’t have to be like this,” she muttered, mostly to herself as she let go of him. Her heart had shattered into a million pieces as she realized what she had done. Helplessly, she walked away.

Her footsteps were slow and heavy as she wished she could turn back to tell him to stay with her, to return. But she had already stammered words that were born due to her frustration, had already done a damage so severe. She wished she didn’t, wished that she told him instead to come back.

So she walked away – away from the bridge that had brought them together at last, away from the person whom she had tried to reach out to, her heart beating as loudly as the sound of her tears.

“I wonder why,” he choked, but she couldn’t hear anymore. Kaneki couldn’t stand up, did not have the energy to even lift a finger as he touched his aching cheeks. His eyes were hollow as his soul as he realized he had lost his place to belong to once more.

III. It was thought to have ended up in a dream – where he was comforted by her presence, where he was kept sane by her existence, even if he didn’t remember.

He was crying again.

“Number 240, feeding time.” The warden said gently, prompting a ghoul whose eyes were hidden in a pile of torn and bloody bandages to run to the jail door and scream.

“LET ME OUT, LET ME OUT,” he bellowed on the top of his lungs, fingernails digging at the thick, cold steel of the door’s metal framework with a screech. He couldn’t see, yet he kept looking around in a frantic fashion – mumbling non-sense about saving people. “I DON’T NEED IT, PLEASE LET ME OUT.”

The warden stepped back, his eyes locked with the dangerous ghoul’s form. They always had different shifts, it all depended on the day. For some reason, he never minded it when he was scheduled in this area, because he pitied him. Most of the other people on duty hated it when they were assigned here. But for him, the man looked like he was in serious pain, as if his mere existence alone was causing him to suffer.

Every day, the warden would hear him shout like this when it was time to give him meals. Every day, he would scream how useless he was, how powerless and helpless he felt. Sometimes, he would catch him as he mumbled names upon names incoherently, clutching his heart. It felt as if he was blaming himself for failing people, going as far as mutilating his own body to ease a little bit of a pain so raw that it never left.

There would be blood on the door, on the walls – and sometimes he would bathe in his own pool of crimson.

He was no. 240, the SS-rated ghoul.

“Waaaaaaah,” he bellowed, scraping his cheeks from the force he exerted. “Who am I? I am… me, me, me!” He sprinted towards the other side of the room when there was no more response, and the warden observed how quick he was to clutch both of his legs as he rocked himself back and forth. “Useless, pathetic.” He was on the left corner now, clutching his head with both hands as he cried, “Couldn’t save, couldn’t do anything.”

The wardens of Cochlea would always talk about him – about how deranged he was, about how he never failed to scream at the top of his lungs. Sometimes, a specific word would trigger him to stop, and he would lie on the bed and hug himself. He would utter gibberish words they could not comprehend – and when it was time to clean his room the next day, they could see the tears of blood that stained the otherwise white, linen cloth they used as bed covers.

“It’s okay, you’re safe,” he whispered suddenly, one day. He didn’t know what prompted him to do this, didn’t know if it would have a consequence – all he knew was that even this person needed someone to comfort him. The ghoul looked up to the sound of his voice, still clutching both of his legs.

It was as if he stared at the warden’s soul. The warden could read his curiosity even with his bandaged eyes, could tell that he was searching for him. Both of them were silent for a while, as 240 tried to locate the sound of the voice. Sometimes, he would hold one hand forward, as if expecting someone to reach out to him. The warden never did though, so he put his head down in surrender.

And then, out of nowhere, he uttered words serenely.

“She said that,” 240 spoke tenderly, his lips producing a small smile as he rested his chin in his arms.

“Who did?” the warden asked, curious about the change in behavior that the ghoul elicited today. It was the first time he heard him talk coherently without resulting in violence. She must be important.

“She did,” he whispered gently, “she said she will be here with me, she said she believes in me.”

A small smile formed on the corner of his mouth. It seemed that even for ghouls such as him, there were people who were left behind, people they love whom they couldn’t even see because they were stuck in this prison. This ghoul must be missing a loved one. “Do you miss her?”

240’s brows furrowed, one hand reaching for his forehead. He clutched his hair. “I can’t remember her,” he started panicking, his breath ragged and his heart racing. “AAAAAAAHHHH! AAAHHHH! I need to – I need to – don’t leave me! AAAAHHHH!”

He couldn’t imagine what she looked like, couldn’t imagine the color of her eyes. He felt like he was always needed to chase after her, that if he didn’t keep thinking about her and didn’t run after her, he would lose her.

Like everyone else, really. “Please… don’t leave me.”

For once, he felt hopeless – consumed by the fact that all he had of her was a memory that would soon be forgotten. She had been his sanity over the last couple of months, had been his only source of comfort. 240 rocked himself back and forth, helpless and alone – feeling empty and forgotten.

He could feel a hand placed on his shoulder and briefly, he wondered who it was. He looked up, but with the wounds and bandages in his eyes, he couldn’t really see anything now, could he? Yet the warmth felt familiar – it was something he craved for, something he had longed ever since he came here. There was no voice, no sound that came from anywhere, yet he knew there was someone there. Then he remembered a warm smile, a gentle voice calling out his name. He hugged himself, smiling at the tenderness created by that person’s presence. It felt like she was there, consoling him, telling him it would be alright.

He couldn’t even remember what she looked like, couldn’t even recall why she was important. Yet her presence alone had been the bane of his existence – the one that kept him together, the one that kept him warm. It was the reason why he would cry at times, but also the reason why he would feel like he wasn’t alone.

Alas, today he dreamt – of the times a black-haired boy was mixing coffee on a café while a girl stood watch, a girl whose deep blue eyes mesmerized his soul. He dreamt of her comforting presence as his head was on her lap, as she caressed his hair – as he fell asleep. Her presence was soothing, her fiery nature calming. ‘Tou – ka.’

And as the warden left him alone in his cell, fast asleep with a peaceful look on his face – he couldn’t help but wish that even in the dream, he would be reunited with his loved ones, at the least – even if it meant he had to cry tears of red.

IV. It was found again with a touch of hands – the language of which had been lost for a while, forgotten within the depths of time.

“This fragrance, the shop will surely have some good coffee,” a voice, so familiar and yet so distant entered the shop she had been managing for a few years. Somehow, it made her heart skip a beat. Somehow, it made her remember a certain person whom she had missed dearly.

“My nose kagune is whispering that to me,” the man chirped to one of his friends.

“Nose kagune?” another voice asked, clearly curious and amused. The person probably was entertained with the man’s antics.

“Amazing RC cells,” another man retorted, chuckling.

She couldn’t see who they were, and yet she wondered if they were ghouls as they kept talking. The familiar voice spoke in a way that made her feel hesitant to greet them, a hand clutching her heart as she realized how long it had been. Touka Kirishima was afraid, to be honest. A part of her wanted to move and see who was speaking, wanted to hope that he had finally returned home; and yet a part of her did not want her hopes up only for it to be extinguished once again – it was tired and draining to do so, yet she could never give up even after all these years.

She lifted her head to look at Yomo and realized that he too, had been staring at the newcomers. His expression was hard to read at first, as he always kept his composure. But when he did finally see them clearly, his eyes widened, lips parting at the sight. Was she even ready? She had been waiting all this time, but she didn’t know what she needed to do to brace her wits.

With a sigh, she gathered her resolved as she saw Yomo’s shocked expression looking at the newcomers, indicating that it might really have been that someone they knew and lost, someone who now made his way back to them. She wanted to make sure she smiled at him, enough for him to know that she had always believed.

“Hey,” she shouted nervously at Yomo, using humor to keep her feelings at bay, a diversion she couldn’t allow to pass up. Her voice sounded anxious and strained even to her ear, and she only hoped no one would notice as she took her tentative steps towards them. “How many times do I have to tell you to greet our customers?”

His eyes blinked, a look of surprise marring his otherwise gleeful face, widening at the sight of her. There was a certain familiarity in her presence, as he felt his heart tug dangerously in his chest. He wanted to know what triggered these feelings, as he suddenly felt an intense sadness welling in the pit of his stomach. She smiled at them, and yet he couldn’t help but notice how much she might have been mirroring his own reaction – disbelief, shock, and familiarity. Unlike him though, with a snap of a finger, she returned to being a friendly manager, as she asked for their orders.

In a heartbeat, Haise Sasaki’s mood suddenly plummeted to the ground. He didn’t know why, had no logical explanation why such a beautiful woman triggered these intense feelings. He suddenly felt so hollow and lonely as he took a seat, his subordinates staring curiously at the sudden change of the mood.

Why? He did not understand this feeling, and yet it was as if he had found something important – a part of a jigsaw puzzle, a part of him that had been missing, even if he didn’t know why. But he felt like it was out of his reach.

As she jotted down their individual orders, Touka couldn’t help but bite the inside of her cheeks as she tried to keep her emotions at bay. There was something different about this man, and yet there was no mistaking that he was the same person she had been waiting for all these years.

When she turned her back, it took all her willpower not to crumble apart.

His warm gray eyes and kind smile, the way he looked at her and the way he carried himself – all the memories she had of him suddenly flashed back in silent recognition. She closed her eyes as she willed her heart to still. Slowly, she returned to the counter, using it as a leverage to hold her up as she left the three customers to Yomo’s care. She almost dropped whatever she was holding because she felt her legs turn into jelly.

For the first time in three years, she finally felt herself give in.

It was surreal really, to see him again. He was a completely different person and seemed to be one of the doves now, judging from the coat he was wearing. Somehow, it made her sad if he somehow didn’t remember them at all. And yet, as she touched the small cups and prepared their coffee, all she could think of was how glad she was that he was here, that he was alive. She concocted his drink with such tenderness and familiarity, her eyes staring down as the liquid whirled slowly into the cup. She hoped that somehow, this would give him a sense of home and would feel the joy she felt right now. And that if he didn’t remember, he would at least feel that it was prepared with love from people who do love him and had waited for him after all this time. If Hinami and the manager were here, they would’ve been overjoyed to see him as well.

While thinking about this, she didn’t realize how her tears already made their way down her cheeks.

“Are you sure you’re okay? I can do it for you,” Yomo asked as he returned, his expression betraying the worry in his face.

“No, I want to do it, I’ve waited all this time,” she laughed hopelessly, looking at the coffee cups as she wiped off her tears. She knew he had good intentions, she knew the underlying message of why he didn’t want her to be hurt.

But he didn’t know how much it brought her immense relief, as if a huge cross she always carried in her heart was suddenly removed. She thought that time had erased her prayers, and yet seeing him stand before her was like a wish she never known would come true. As she loaded the cups into the tray and went out of the counter, she remembered how Yomo stared at him gravely, his eyes focused as he studied him – as if silently asking if he remembered them.

She had to smile sadly, because she thought that no matter how cruel it was for him to stumble here and not remember, maybe, just maybe, it would be better that way. She was just happy he was finally here with them – even just by mere presence, even if not totally, she would accept it.

“Sorry for the wait,” she smiled at the trio, vaguely noticing the orange-haired man’s excited face and how their green-haired companion anticipated her. One by one, she carefully unloaded the coffee she had painstakingly prepared into the table for them to enjoy.

“It’s a great smell,” Touka heard him say, as he inhaled the warm scent of coffee beans and smiled at his companions. They gently picked up their respective cups and did the same, relishing the inviting aroma with appreciation.

There was something in this coffee which Haise Sasaki found precious. It smelled of roasted beans and citrus, along with a floral scent that sent his heart beating with the air of nostalgia. Somehow, he felt like after all these years of searching, all these years of pining for the perfect blend, he might have finally found it.

Tooru Mutsuki stared in wonder as he took his first sip, reveling in delight. It interrupted Haise’s thoughts while he waited patiently for his feedback. “Whoa, delicious!” He started wide-eyed at his cup, seemingly overjoyed.

The other one, Shirazu Ginshi laughed, patting him on the shoulder. “It’s a bull’s eye! and Sassan’s nose kagune ain’t shit either. Right?”

He beamed gratefully at his companions and then stared at his own cup, marveling at his reflection in the dark liquid. As he lifted it up and took the first sip, a plethora of emotions overcame him. The coffee tasted complex as the fusion of its qualities melded in his mouth – it was sweet and fruity, rich and warm; qualities that exploded in his tongue. Somehow, it felt like he was closer to who he really was after tasting it. And oh god, the emotions given on how it was prepared – he could feel them in his heart, could imagine the manager’s movements as she made the blends. It felt warm and gentle, like someone welcoming you back after a hard day’s work. The scent was so inviting that it drew him towards it, towards a warmth he had missed, but could not quite understand. He could feel a great love and longing mixed with the taste, as if someone had been waiting and finally found him.

He felt like he found himself as he finally, finally realized how fruitful years of searching for the perfect blend had been. It felt like he was welcomed somewhere after years of being lost and tears quietly rolled down his face at the notion. The coffee did taste like home.

“Ahaha, yeah it’s good,” Shirazu hollered, amused. “Sassan, that’s too much! Is this some kind of a joke?”

Touka heard them admiring how tasty the coffee was and the sound of the man’s flabbergasted tone from where she watched near the counter. She smiled at Yomo in silent reassurance and he just gave her a small smirk, trusting she could handle her own as he went back to work. She was happy and proud that they loved it, because she did pour her heart out into making it.

“N-no, it’s strange,” he stammered, head down as he stared at his cup. “I wonder what this is.”

Was he crying?

It felt bizarre, and yet it suddenly warmed her heart to know that somehow, they were still alive in his. She was happy to know that her feelings reached him – that even if he didn’t remember, they were undeniably still a part of him.

Unknowingly, she started walking towards them and reached out to pull something out of her pockets. For a brief moment, she felt the warmth of his life as their hands touch and she couldn’t help but be grateful. She handed him a handkerchief – that even if she couldn’t comfort him, the least she could do was to help him to take them away. He offered his own doleful smile at her, gratefully accepting. “Ah, I’m sorry,” he mumbled, cheeks flushed as he wiped his tears. “It’s delicious, it really is.”

“Thank you,” she responded, giving him a smile, a smile that looked a little troubled and a bit sad – a smile of one who waited and believed in him, someone who he couldn’t even remember.

Maybe it was how she carried herself or how she spoke to him. Maybe it was how much he loved her coffee, or how comforted he felt by her presence.

Whatever the reason was, it made Haise Sasaki keep coming back to :re.

There was a certain familiarity with it, a certain nostalgia that consoled him. He had never thought that a place would have such a profound effect that would leave him yearning.

But it did.

He went back for a second time, then a third and onward. He did this when he was stressed and had to get away, choosing the solace provided by the café. After his interrogation with Donato Porpora with regards to S-rated Serpent, it shook him to the core. He chose to take refuge in the café and there, he was able to appreciate the manager’s kindness the most – she even told him that he could read as much as he wanted whenever he would visit.

There was something about her that made Haise’s heart skip a beat.

He didn’t know if it was her kindness or her gentle disposition. He didn’t know if it was the way she made his coffee exquisitely or the way she spoke to him with such familiarity. Or was it because he felt like she reminded him of someone? He didn’t know.

All he knew was she was beautiful, that her eyes had this certain charm in them that drew him in. They had a certain maturity in them, like they belonged to a person who had experienced a lot in life and yet chose to smile. He loved talking to her – she would always let him ramble, was always willing to listen to his day. So today, on his day off, he was back in :re, his heart looking forward to meeting her once again.

He walked briskly, maneuvering the busy street with such ease until he saw the familiar sign. He took off his coat and entered, surprised to see the manager sitting in one of the tables, her eyes wistful as they looked down at her coffee. She was wearing her familiar apron, both of her hands firmly wrapped on the cup she was holding. He found the sight precious, because he rarely saw her in this state, let alone see her contemplative look – yet he felt like he wanted no more than to comfort her.

There was no one around as it was still quite early. She seemed not to have noticed him quietly entering the café as well so he cleared his throat, gently snapping her out of her reverie as she attempted to stand up.

“Ah, no, don’t worry about it,” he muttered timidly, putting both hands on her shoulders to usher her to get back on her seat. “I just thought I’d rouse you from your deep thoughts.”

Haise gave her a nervous smile, scratching the back of his head. He didn’t know if what he did was right, wishing that the manager wouldn’t get angry at him. She stared at him in wonder, her cheeks tinted with a pink blush as she realized what just occurred.

“I’m sorry,” she apologized, returning his smile, “I didn’t think you’d come by to the shop this early. Usually, you’d drop off during afternoons.”

“Don’t worry about it,” he chuckled, sitting next to her, “I got fired from a calendar factory so it’s my day off. I thought I’d drop by before it gets busy.”

She laughed a bit at his joke, even though it was embarrassingly corny. He just wanted to cheer her up though, and seeing that it worked made him feel a little bit better. Hopefully, it did.

“I’d get you your usual if you want?” she offered, standing up once again.

“Only if you’d join me,” he grinned.

A few minutes later, she came back with another tray of coffee and sat beside him. He thanked her for the cup and they started talking about his job in the CCG and his love for books. It was quite easy to talk to her about it, even though he didn’t know her that much. He told her about being a squad leader to a rumbustious bunch, that he hadn’t been on the job for long but he was happy where he was.

Somehow, he also noticed the seemingly distant look in her eyes as she listened to his stories, along with the sad smile that never dared leave her lips. And yet, she listened to him attentively anyway and asked questions when necessary.

“This coffee is amazing, it’s part of my daily grind,” he chuckled as he took a sip of his coffee, looking at the books. “You know, I’ve been touring coffee shops around the city for as long as I can remember.”

Haise looked down at his reflection solemnly, smiling as he finally told her about his pastime. He didn’t know why he wanted to tell her this, but he at least wanted to give her reassurance that this had been his favorite so far – nothing else came close actually. “It has always been my hobby, but lately I stopped after I found :re.”

The manager’s smile brightened a little at his comment and there was a hint of sparkle in her eyes as she stirred her coffee, “We wanted to make sure that everyone who visited felt at home, that’s what this café meant for us.”

“Is there a history to that?” he asked curiously, his focus shifting to her.

The manager looked at him thoughtfully and smiled before turning her attention back to her cup. There was a certain sadness in her gaze that caught him off-guard and made his stomach churn. “This cafe is a place to return to, for people who are lost who want to go back.”

He didn’t know what she went through, could probably never offer her the comfort she needed. But she was probably waiting for someone and his heart somersaulted at the thought. Even so, he reached out to her and squeezed her hand, surprising her. Even if it was to offer just a little comfort, he’d do it just to see her smile. “Thank you for building it for us.”

It was when he said that, that Touka, the manager of :re, realized how much he still meant to her. She gave him a smile, trying to hold back tears. It made all her and Yomo’s hard work in building :re worth it. It also made her feel like her stomach was crawling with butterflies. His touch was warm and gentle, just like how he used to be. But it was his kind smile that made her want to tear up because nothing else mattered more to her at the moment.

She wanted no more than to tell him about the said person, about how much he meant to her. And yet, her throat was parched and unable to speak words, like always. She promised herself that she would learn to let him go, be content that he was happy where he was.

She did not want to thrust him again into their world, having been burnt at the consequences of what it did to him. Back then, she was unable to save him, was unable to do anything at all to bring him back. And now that she found him, all she wanted was to watch from the distance as he lived his life – watch him smile as his eyes lit up, watch him enjoy the books he loved. It was her wish, had always been her wish to see him happy.

And yet, her heart screamed for him to remember – to remember them, to remember her. She wanted him to recall the moments they spent together, wanted him to remember his promise to her. Her heart cried silently, with no one there to notice.

When Haise Sasaki finally said goodbye, Yomo went out and walked towards Touka, who used the nearby countertop to steady her wobbly legs. It was hard for her to continue this whole charade, he knew. Never in a million years had he dreamt of a reunion such as this, much more for him to suddenly keep popping up as much as he wanted. He knew it hurt Touka to look at him only at a distance, even if all she wanted was to wish for his happiness.

“A part of me always hoped for him to remember,” she told him, dark blue eyes glazed in silent reminisce. When he told her those words today, it was as if something snapped inside her. “How selfish am I that all I wanted for him was to be happy, and yet I also wanted to be included in that happiness?”

It was the first time Yomo held his niece like this in his arms, and it was the first time Touka leaned into the touch. He didn’t have any words to give, any reassurance that he thought would help. He hoped as well that somehow, even if he didn’t remember, even if he would never remember – they would find each other again.

She did build a home for him to return to, after all.

V. It left off with hopeful words muttered from her lips – one which he found cruel as his fate, one he wanted to hold onto.

There was a certain darkness that he never knew existed, a part of him that was stained with blood red markings he would never get rid of. And as he stared at the cold floor where his bed lied, he couldn’t help but clench his teeth in annoyance. He grasped strands of his dark, raven hair and closed his eyes.

As soon as he remembered who he was, he had lost faith in what he had become.

How could he? He had seen both sides, had felt happiness in both parts of the world. And yet, as he was a part of both sides, he also belonged to neither – an existential mess, a wandering soul whose quest of death had made him forget that he needed to live. And finally remembering everything, he felt trapped in an endless nightmare – consumed by the darkness that had enveloped his soul.

He remembered the humans who have died in his hands, those who had to suffer in his quest to find out who he was and what he lived for, and to protect his selfish desires. Fellow CCG officials who had families and loved ones, comrades in arms who died in the line of duty. He had experienced the grief of the people he cared about here – his family. They had given him the life he never knew he would be capable of living, a life which made his path take a turn towards a temporary happiness. It was with them that he felt the joy of what having a family entailed – the laughter they shared, the mundane things he was able to share with them, the joy of seeing them. Had he not lost that day with the same man he now viewed as his father, could he have experienced this?

In his life as a ghoul, his eyes were opened to the warmth and cruelty that was present in both. He couldn’t blame them – the world had made them suffer because of who they were and how they were born, and some of them returned the same gift as they lived in the misery and anguish that their lives had entailed. He was tortured, he saw fellow ghouls die by his hands and at the hands of their kin. It was absurd, twisted, despicable – yet it was the way of their world.

And yet, he too had felt the warmth like no other in his time there. It was there where his eyes had been opened on how humane ghouls could be, how they struggled just to live – of the loved ones they had lost, of the rights they continued to keep losing. Even so, some of them continued to be kind �� not even sparing the world an ounce of hatred, only grief to what they have lost and sadness on what they needed to do to continue living. It was with these people that he saw how much one smiled even though it hurt, how much strength they had even though they thought they couldn’t endure. It was through them that he saw a ray of light, of an unparalleled compassion that even though life gave them the darkest hours, they continued to be human.

Lives upon lives lost – a mother’s last moment, giving her child a smile like no other as she wished for her to live; a sister’s last hope as she stroked her beloved brother’s face; a father’s love buried in the past because of sins he couldn’t atone for, as he waited for his daughter to come home; ghouls who sacrificed their lives for the people they loved, even if it meant being killed just for his sake.

How could he have let this happen? How had he forgotten this?

Even he had been saved by a person he cared for, had been given life as another sacrificed herself just to make sure he lived. She knew the consequences – she knew she might have been killed for doing so, she knew there would have been no escape, and yet Hinami Fueguchi chose to save him and accepted whatever would come right after. And for that, she had suffered at their hands.

His sweet, caring younger sister who lost a lot at a young age and continued losing, continued suffering for the sake of her loved ones. How could he have failed her? How could he have failed everyone once again? How much wrong would he be capable of doing? He wished he had the strength like her.

He wouldn’t, couldn’t face them now – especially her.

Remembering her ever tired eyes that were always downcast whenever he would visit, how she tried to smile and act strong like she was okay when she was in front of him – he finally realized how much hell he had made her go through and it brought a feeling of anger for himself.

It was too much for him to bear, too hard to even remember.

By now, he felt nauseous to his stomach, his heart racing and his mind reeling from the memories that resurfaced into his soul. He could taste metallic blood in his lips as he bit the inside of his cheek, could feel the pull of his hand in his scalp as his ragged breath and heavy heart tore him apart.

He was a monster – not a ghoul, not a human, but a monster.

And yet, even a monster remembered gentle eyes and a welcoming smile who always waited, always saved him. How cruel was it that in his darkest, he only had to think of her and his heart would draw back in hurt and anguish instead of anger? Even as he lied on the cold floor of Cochlea, it was through her that he found comfort and peace, even if it was just in a delusion.

How much had he made her suffer, he wondered? If she found out it was his fault that a loved one had been captured, she would never forgive him. All his hopes of going home had now been burnt into ashes, he could never even dare see her again after he had failed.

He remembered the ghouls he had slaughtered, the families he had killed as Haise. How many of them have had loved ones he had taken? How many of them were now in grief because he had chosen to kill for the sake of humans? How much more could his heart endure, how much more did he have to be torn, he wondered?

He had to atone for his sins, for hurting the loved ones he had once vowed to protect once he became strong. The thought that he had failed them, not only once but twice, sent shivers down his spine. ‘How could I have managed such feat as a loser?’ he laughed bitterly. His selfish desire had brought him nothing but strife as he took all his burden alone.

Was all this what his strength entailed? Did all these lives lost for the sake of his ambition only amount to this? It was petty.

His soul was wrapped in all his betrayals – no matter how much he wanted to disregard it, no matter where he went. And even if he wanted nothing more than to correct this, no matter how much he wanted to turn back time as his heart shattered in pieces upon remembering what he had become – he knew death was the only answer.

This time, he would succeed in his mission, he thought, as the shadow of the black reaper’s scythe came into his view.

There was this thing about saying goodbye – you’d think it would be easy to let go, once you made up your mind. But the reality was that it was far from it and you could only wish that you didn’t have to, that the circumstances were different.

That’s what Ken Kaneki thought as he stared at :re at seven in the morning, because he didn’t want Furuta to meddle in his business.

He wanted to see it one last time, to give his heart a bit of peace at least and find a bit of strength as he plotted his final objective. With a sigh, he touched the signboard of the beloved café where Haise Sasaki once found solace and smiled because he too, would have felt the same. It was an establishment that was built upon the love and hope of a person whose wish was for a loved one to come back – no matter who he had become, no matter who he was. Had Haise known it was him all along, he would have been stunned.

He inhaled the scent of coffee beans – of some citrus and vanilla, of the powdery smell of cocoa. He inhaled the smell of old wood and books that lingered even in front of the coffee shop. He inhaled the scent of home.

He gazed at the shop hungrily, yearning for the moment where he would’ve been able to live and spend time with them as himself. He would have been able to help her, would have done everything in his power to keep that smile on her face. He could imagine himself tending to the shop – he would have been the one to wake up early to open it, he would have been the one serving coffee as she took orders.

But no, he wasn’t able to do that.

His heart ached as he remembered why this café was built – for him to return to, as she hoped he would come back to them. That day when she saw him at the bridge, she told him a truth he would never unhear, as he realized his own selfish wish. He wanted to be free from all the things he had to endure, from all the things he lied to himself just so he could justify his wrongdoing. It was the first time he wanted to die, as his conscience overwhelmed him, as his twisted deeds crept up to him.

Yet she believed he would return. How sad was that – that all he wanted was to be free from all his suffering, that all he wanted was to make sure no one he cared about would end up dead before his eyes – and life couldn’t grant him that freedom but opted instead to make him forget about everything? And yet, she was still there, her eyes hopeful even though they were always a little sad as she waited and waited.

And waited.

In a cruel twist of fate, he did come back. And yet didn’t remember her, he didn’t remember anything about them – not their kindness, not their warmth, not their names. Now he knew why she looked so sad that day when she first saw him again, now he knew why she had that gaze on the very first time that they talked.

He had failed her, he always had. And if she found out about his deeds as Haise Sasaki, it would hurt him to see her hurt or be angry, it would hurt him to see her be anguished as she barged into Cochlea’s doorstep to save Hinami. No, he had to be the one to do so, had to be the one to atone. He did not want her to get hurt, did not want her to suffer any more than she already had.

“You haven’t visited here for some time,” a curious voice, tainted with a bit of sadness and hope suddenly spoke softly in the distance. “Are you waiting for the café to open?”

He turned around in surprise, his mind barely registering the thought that he would see her this early. She was wearing some casual clothes, one hand holding a plastic of what looked like groceries or something as she walked towards him. His heart skipped a beat, perplexed that life once again wouldn’t let him go without being submerged further into the depth of his despair.

He gave her an awkward smile and scratched the back of his head. “N-no, I was just passing by and it just happened that the café was close and I was hit with nostalgia.” He hoped she wouldn’t see through his lie.

“Is that so? Would you like a coffee then before you go?” Her eyes were a bit hopeful that it pained him to say no, but he knew he needed to get away before he lost his conviction.

“I’m afraid I’ll have to go soon; my partner would be mad at me if I keep him waiting.”

How he wished he could tell her that he remembered, that he still cared for her. How he wished he could tell her that he was still here, that all he wanted was for her to be safe and happy. How he wished he could ask for her forgiveness, for leaving her and causing her pain. Life was twisted, he knew, and yet on the back of his mind he still wanted to experience being close to her once more. He knew he could never do that now.

“Oh, that’s sad,” her eyes were a little downcast, but Touka gave him a smile as she inched a little closer that they were now standing in front of each other. “I hope you pass by soon on your day off.”

“I’ll try,” he muttered, touching his chin. He wished he could, but he didn’t belong here anymore.

The manager’s eyes widened a bit and she sighed, walking towards him. She gently stroked the hair that covered a part of his face away and beamed. The action stunned him that he was so still because of the touch. “You’ve dyed your hair.”

Those words, her actions – it was as if she could feel his pain, his suffering. The gesture was simple, yet it was as intimate as it gave him comfort that he needed, wanted. It was only her who could do this, through simple and clear-cut actions that lasted only for a few seconds, but had the ability to render him speechless.

“I’ll be waiting then.”

When he smiled and nodded, it was her indication that he would be alright. She moved past him and started walking back towards the café.

“Manager,” he shouted, gathering his wits. This was the only time he could do this, the only time he would be able to.

She turned around to meet his gaze, her piercing dark blue eyes gazing into his soul. “Thank you.”

It was his only chance, his only mean to say goodbye. He hoped it would reach her, hoped that she would be able to see the sincerity and feelings hidden behind those two words.

As he thought, he could never say goodbye after all.

There was something different about him, that day she stumbled upon his forlorn face as he looked at the café. It felt like he had resigned to his fate, that the world had abandoned him once more. It was eerily similar to the Kaneki she had known after his time in Aogiri, the Kaneki that had lost his soul.

And yet, as he thanked her, his tone had an underlying tone of defeat. There was this cloud of isolation, a darkness that wrapped his form. She remembered all the times she couldn’t save him, that time that she wasn’t there for him while he suffered by himself. Touka didn’t want it to be repeated, didn’t want to lose him again. So she reached out, hoping against all hope that he would listen and fully come back to them this time.

She couldn’t fail.

“Kaneki,” she shouted, startling him. He twitched at the sound of her voice, he would have thought they would be gone by now. His heart skipped a beat and he turned slowly, avoiding her eyes at first – if he looked at her now, all his resolve would crumble.

But she didn’t do as much as move that he had no choice but to face her.

She gave him a smile, a smile that was a little troubled but hoped, a smile of one who still believed in him. “See you later.”

There was no hate, no sound of resentment – it was just hopeful.

Then, he remembered –

The way she saved him, the way she believed he would find his way, the way she comforted him in his dreams.

The way she touched him, the way she smiled at him and the way she gently fixed his hair to comfort him as she smiled solemnly.

His heart thundered in his chest, stomach feeling it had molten lava on its pit. How could he possibly fail her now and break her heart?

“You’re a cruel one, Touka.”

And just as she did countless of times after they first met, she lit up a small fire of hope.

Live.

Let me know who was your favorite Kaneki and if you enjoyed this piece. Part II will be posted sometime next week and it continues the Kenference. I also wanted to say how embarrassing it was to write Haise puns. 😅

#tokyo ghoul #touken #kaneki ken #haise sasaki #tokyo ghoul:re #tg fanfic #shar.writes #i had an existential crisis writing reaper #it hurt too much writing these two angsty duo #i was in a just kiss already mood damn it

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star-going-supernova · 7 years ago

Text

The Nightmare’s Just Begun

This is what happens when I write while in a less-than-stellar mood—primarily anger. Title from the song Monster by Skillet. And a bit of a fun fact: the pain I describe is all from personal experience, just exaggerated a bit for the story.

Warning: this is not a happy story. There are clear and detailed depictions of gory violence and pain. Murder and injuries ahead, so proceed with caution.

read it on Ao3

When Bendy opened his eyes, he thought everything was going to be okay. The hit to his head that had knocked him out didn’t matter, because Henry was standing right in front of him. He’d get Bendy out of whatever mess he was in now, he just knew it.

But then his gaze drifted past Henry and locked on Joey in all his crimson madness. He grinned at his Creator, cruel and victorious.

“You’re awake,” Henry said. “Good. I was worried I hit you too hard.”

Bendy’s stomach flip-flopped and bottomed out, and his heart felt lodged in his throat. “What?” he whispered hoarsely— because no. No, Henry couldn’t mean what it sounded like.

Henry smiled, and it was full of condescension. “Did you really think that just because I came out on-model that I’d automatically be on your side? That I would forsake my friends, my family, for you?” He shook his head and tsked. “You’re a fool if you thought I’d care.”

Trying to find words to voice his thoughts proved impossible. How could you articulate such heartbreaking betrayal?

He had never seen Henry’s eyes— usually so bright and warm and caring— look so terribly, horrifically cold.

“Just remember, you made me this. You gave me the potential to stop caring.”

With those ominous words ringing in the silence— something about them seemed familiar, like Bendy had forgotten some important detail— Henry turned away to face what Bendy realized with growing horror was an actual pile of toons. His friends, his employees, nothing more than bodies ready for slaughter.

Bendy’s mouth opened and closed soundlessly, his breath lodged in his throat.

Henry seemed to come to some decision, one that lifted one corner of his mouth up in a wicked smirk as he looked back at him. “You know what would be fun?” he asked, approaching Bendy. “Making you feel them die, so you can suffer for your sins.”

Eyes flaring, Henry pressed a single finger against Bendy’s chest, over his racing heart.

“Let’s see how you like it, pain worse than death but with no mercy waiting at the end of it.” And without giving Bendy a moment to even try and process that, Henry turned back, snatched up one of the unconscious toons, and slowly began to tear one of his victim’s arms off.

There was a delay, a long second where Bendy thought maybe Henry had done something wrong, but then—

He shrieked, his body convulsing, as he felt his bones and cartilage creak under the unimaginable pressure, and a sharp, shearing pain wracked through him as his muscles stretched taut like a rubber band before snapping just as easily. Eyes clenched shut, his back bowed and he lost all sensation in his left hand, and it felt like ice was overtaking his shoulder in shards, piercing and severing his ink.

With a popping splat, the toon’s arm came off their body like a chicken wing being split open. Ink erupted over the trio from the force of it, and Bendy went limp as though paralyzed. He couldn’t move his arm— in fact, he couldn’t feel it at all. If he wasn’t capable of seeing it right there on his body, he would’ve believed without question that Henry had just torn his own off instead of someone else’s.

Henry’s hand wrenched his body forward. “One down,” he whispered. “And so very many to go.”

Bendy couldn’t have contained his whimper if he’d tried. “Please,” he begged the angel. “Please don’t.”

Behind Henry, Joey spoke up for the first time in a while. “Why should we stop,” he snarled, “when you never did?”

After releasing Bendy, Henry tossed the remains of the toon at his friend, who promptly began stuffing the corpse into an ink-filled container. “It’ll dissolve now that it ain’t stable anymore,” Joey said when he caught Bendy’s gaze. “Whoever that was will just melt away. You lot are almost even less alive than we are.”

“Oh,” Henry said suddenly from where he was surveying the large pile of toons. “What have we here?” Watching the horror grow on Bendy’s face, he dragged Alice out from beneath someone else. “Look what Susie must’ve dragged in.”

“Henry, please,” Bendy begged him. “Please, you can do whatever you want with me, just— please stop hurting them!”

“Don’t you get it?” With a careless flick of his wrist, Henry sent Alice’s halo spinning upwards, where it zinged to hover over his own larger one. “I’m already doing whatever I want with you.” Turning to Joey, Henry shook Alice’s body. “Got any suggestions?”

Maintaining eye contact with Bendy, Joey said, “Tear her throat out.”

Slowly, agonizingly slowly, Henry wrapped his hand around Alice’s slim neck. He paused there, motionless, and for every silent second that passed, Bendy grew more and more tense. He could barely even see with the way his tears were blurring his vision, but Henry had already made sure that wouldn’t be a problem, hadn’t he?

Why watch the systematic destruction of everyone Bendy had ever known and cared about, when he could feel it all instead?

Henry’s fingers dug into her ink like claws, and he buried them deeper and deeper to the sound of Bendy’s cracking scream.

It felt like hot pokers ramming through his throat, colliding and searing his insides. His voice faded in and out and his body understood his vocal cords to be slowly ripped free like fragile threads being snapped. The pain extended into his head, and the back of his mouth began to peel away like flimsy paper, following after the bulk of his throat. His spine bent as Henry dug even farther in, as though trying to full on decapitate him by simply ripping away everything between his head and body, for as little as he had there in comparison to Alice.

His head lolled brokenly as Alice’s ink splattered over him, her own head connected to her body by only the thinnest of threads.

The world faded in and out around him, disjointed and blurry. If Henry and Joey were talking, Bendy couldn’t hear it.

With no way to tell how much time was passing, much less if he was even truly conscious as the minutes ticked by, Bendy just sort of floated. What little of his mind that was still working kept replaying the last few moments like a looped cartoon scene.

They were gone. They were all gone. Alice, taken so completely right in front of him, Boris was who knew where, and so many familiar faces had stared dead-eyed up at him from the pile of soon-to-be and already-were corpses.

A dull pain started in his lower stomach, weak and almost pleasant compared to having his throat torn out. The pain gradually grew until his body moved without his input, hunching as much as he could in his restraints, curling around the sharp, pulsing sensation. He groaned and began to come back to himself.

It felt like something was trying to break out of his gut, like a bomb was going off in slow motion, tearing him apart without killing him.

He heard laughter right in front of him, and through his slowly diminishing willpower, Bendy managed to raise his head.

Sitting on the floor, Henry grinned back at him. Beside him, Joey was happily digging through the gory mess of a toon’s torso.

“Thought you’d given up on us,” Henry said, “so we decided to give you a little wake up call.”

Joey twisted his hand, and Bendy cried out as the pain briefly spiked, something in him bursting like a balloon that was squeezed too hard.

“You missed it,” Henry continued. “While you were taking your nap, Sammy and Wally stopped by with Boris. Of course, Boris was already dead— Sammy tore his heart out to save Wally, wasn’t that nice of him?— but that means all the Creators have been accounted for.” He smiled at Bendy with his treacherous isn’t everything wonderful smile.

Bendy dropped his head, curling up again.

“Are you having fun, Joey?” he heard Henry ask. There wasn’t a verbal answer, but from the way Bendy’s insides burned, he could take a good guess.

Drained in a way he’d never felt before, of life and hope and any will to live, Bendy tried to let go, tried to just slip away. It was surprisingly easy. Darkness, pain-free and deep, crept over him like a living thing.

“Oh, Creator,” he heard Henry say. “Leaving so soon? We’ve only just barely gotten started.”

He ignored him, and forced himself further away from this living nightmare.

“Bendy,” Henry said, his tone full of dangerous warning. “Stop it.”

Hands wrapped around his shoulders and gave him a firm shake. Strangely enough, though, the action was gentle.

“Bendy?”

It had to have been working. Henry’s voice sounded so far away. Was he dying, or just losing consciousness?

“Bendy!”

All at once, it felt like his bonds had melted away, and without so much as thinking about it, he swiped at the menacing figure he felt leaning over him. Henry managed to dodge the attack aimed at his chest, but Bendy’s right hand connected with his face.

In that moment, he woke up.

Falling over himself, he scrambled blindly away from a hoarse, pained cry, fully expecting to see a mutilated toon that hadn’t been unconscious to the world before being ripped apart by either Henry or Joey.

Instead, he was faced with a room empty of corpses. Even Joey had vanished, nothing more than a fading remnant of a nightmare, leaving only Henry in sight, kneeling on the floor. He was hunched over, clutching the left side of his face.

The pain was gone, Bendy realized. He could move again. It was only a dream.

Nevertheless, he refused to take his eyes of the angel before him. Panting harshly into the silence, he waited for some sign, something to tell him that he was for sure where he should be. His heart felt ready to burst out of his chest.

After a minute, Henry slowly straightened, unerringly turning to face Bendy even before his head was fully raised. He’d done that before, Bendy knew— he seemed to have some innate ability to always know exactly where his Creator was— but it’d never unnerved him so much as it did right then.

In his mind’s eye, he saw Henry cold eyes and cruel smile. Could he actually escape a creature that could track him so easily? Had he sealed his fate when he brought Henry to life?

A flash of color that didn’t belong dragged him away from the question lingering at the edge of his mind— could he even trust Henry? His eyes widened at the sight of the angel.

Three long, deep gashes were carved into his face, grotesquely splitting his skin. The topmost started at a high point of Henry’s hairline, cutting down through his eyebrow and over the bridge of his nose. The second went from his temple to top lip, narrowly missing his eye. The third split his lower cheek from the edge of his jaw to the corner of his mouth, fully puncturing the skin in some places, displaying the edges of his teeth. Crimson oozed from each, dripping soundlessly to splatter on the floor.

“Bendy?”

Bendy tore his transfixed gaze away from the jagged wounds to meet Henry’s eyes. For a moment, he thought he could see fear within them.

Fear of him? But— but Henry was the monster. He was the one going behind Bendy’s back, fraternizing with the enemy, he was the one planning to hurt Bendy and all his friends.

He flexed the fingers of his right hand, feeling something sticky on them. He looked down, and without feeling guilty like he expected, saw the terrible red smeared across a hand that wasn’t familiar to him. There were even bits of skin caught beneath his claws.

Claws?

Finally taking in the rest of himself, Bendy realized he was larger. More human proportioned, with longer limbs and sharper angles. Going by the length of his legs, spindly as they were, he’d guess that he’d tower over any of the humans.

The first thought that entered his mind was good, then I’ll be able to defend myself when Henry turns on me.

When, not if. He knew now, he understood, what his creations were capable of.

“Are you all right?” Henry asked quietly. He didn’t move from his position on the floor, carefully watching Bendy. “You started screaming in your sleep.”

Instead of answering, Bendy shot back, “Why were you awake?”

Giving him a strange look, Henry slowly stood, flexing his wings. “I was on first watch, like we talked about.” He made an aborted reach for his injured face before repeating, “Are you all right?”

Bendy stared at him long enough for Henry to narrow his eyes. What was going through his creation’s head? “I’m fine,” he finally said.

“Wrong answer.” Henry stepped forward, though he immediately drew up to a halt when Bendy flinched away. “Bendy? What did you see?”

“Nothing. I’m fine.”

Brows furrowed, Henry shook his head. “You’re not acting like yourself.”

Struggling to his feet— made difficult by both the tremors leftover from his nightmare and the new, strange limbs— he snapped, “And how would you know, huh?”

Hurt flashed across Henry’s face and he recoiled slightly. “Bendy—”

“How did this even happen?” Bendy asked, gesturing sharply at himself. He’d been right. He practically dwarfed Henry the way the angel did to him normally.

Each word spoken carefully, as though expecting something to set Bendy off, Henry explained, “The ink— your ink— is malleable. That’s why Joey and the others want it.” He nodded at Bendy. “New bodies. I suppose whatever you saw in your dream was enough to make you…”

He trailed off for a moment before whispering with a half-hearted shrug, “A defense mechanism, I’d guess.”

Bendy nodded silently. He wondered if he should try returning to his normal body.

After watching him for a few long seconds, Henry fiddled with the edge of his wing. “Are you sure you don’t want to talk about it? It’s supposed to help. Anything, please,” he nearly begged, looking like he desperately wanted to reach out to his Creator.

A day ago— even just a few hours ago— Bendy would barely have hesitated to confide in Henry, to accept whatever comfort the angel might offer, whether in the form of a wing hug or words of reassurance. But now, all he could see was the gory damage those hands were capable of.

“I don’t really remember what it was about,” Bendy said, fully aware that it didn’t sound even halfway convincing. Far be it from him to spill his guts— metaphorically this time— only to have Henry smugly confirm his worst fears. Unless, well. With Henry still obviously shaken and injured, and Bendy being so much larger— would it be better to confront him now and deal with the consequences while he had the advantage?

“Do you want to try and go back to sleep?” Henry asked, oblivious to Bendy’s internal debate. There was still doubt in his eyes, but he seemed willing to look past this whole incident. “Or do you want to keep moving?”

“Let’s walk for a bit,” Bendy said. Anything to keep him from being trapped in a confined space with the angel.

Taking a deep breath, Henry nodded and headed for the door, holding it open for Bendy as he always did. But that would put Henry behind Bendy while they walked, and— yeah, that wasn’t going to happen.

“You first,” Bendy said, leaving no room for argument.

Henry’s wings tensed up in what he recognized as a defensive action, and Bendy knew. He knew that Henry got the message— that Henry was a large part of the problem. He knew that in those two words, he’d managed to fracture the friendship that’d been growing between them. He knew that if Henry truly was plotting against him, he wasn’t doing himself any favors, and might even be solidifying Henry’s decision to betray him.

But he couldn’t bring himself to care. As he followed Henry into the hallway, his own body feeling so unfamiliar, he wondered— which of them was the real monster?

#batim fic #Toon Angel!Henry #batim bendy #the Sinners and the Saints AU #star's stories #life and times of star

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closevein · 7 years ago

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When she’d come at him, accusations sharp like knives and words ricocheting around the room like bullets, he’d kicked her away with a sarcastic shrug and simple words --

It’s a dangerous world.

And she’d said he didn’t know the difference between right and wrong - ha! Right and wrong, like abandoning herself to let the Heathers shape her into some kind of fucked up puppet for them to manipulate to do their bidding. Right and wrong, like snapping off window locks and breaking into houses. Right and wrong, like leading Martha Dunstock into the jaws of the cave and kicking her off the edge and into the darkness. Right and wrong, like letting the world keep on turning when the two of them alone have the power to turn it on its head.

No, he knows plenty about right and wrong. The only difference, as had thus been proven with a slammed door and a quiet ‘I love you’ crushed beneath her heels, was that he was the only one who knew. Who really knew.

So he takes to Moby Dick.

As for me, I am tormented with an everlasting itch for things remote. I love to sail forbidden seas, and land on barbarous coasts.

The pen scratches over parchment, it’s red far too akin to the flesh of strawberries to resemble the kind of blood that something in the center of his chest beckons to call forth. How ironic it is that the final straw had been borne out of rebellion for his father. Even moreso, rebellion for the remoteness called for across the pages. Remoteness like a life on the road, only touching down in places long enough for it to hurt when he’s ultimately uprooted. It’s funny, actually - he calls an act like shooting the ceiling and raining down plaster a rebellion, but he’d been dragged across so many states that all he can feel now, looking back on memories and the people who occupied them, is numbness. All of his insides, frozen over and saturated with the unnatural sugars of a slushie.

Veronica would never survive, detached from humanity like that. She’s tangled herself in with the mess of it, fallen in love so blindly that even recognition of its flaws could not provoke her into action. Out in the sea, there’d be no place to pick on outsiders, no social hierarchy to pressure others into frizzing their hair and purging their stomachs and sharpen their smiles into something cold and cruel. ( How could she do this to him?? How could she abandon him like this?? How could she leave him to do this alone, on his own?? Something about this feels familiar. )

It’s a strange thing to know, that he’d come to Sherwood, Ohio thinking he’d crushed every fragment of a desire to connect, and had then fallen in love.

His knuckles are white around the book when he hands it to Mr. and Mrs. Sawyer.

The path to my fixed purpose is laid with iron rails, whereon my soul is grooved to run. Over unsounded gorges, through the rifled hearts of mountains, under torrents’ beds, unerringly I rush!

There’s no stopping him! His bones burn like battery acid, his whole mouth is raw like he’d sucked the enamel right from his teeth. His heart is a war drum. It’s time!

-- Knock knock! ”

The words burst from his mouth like a flashbang. He’s overflowing with gasoline, everything burning to the touch, and somehow, it doesn’t hurt. He’s untouchable. He’s on cloud 9. And, perhaps the most important of them all -- He’s enlightened with sacrilege. Hot glue moves thick and viscous like magma, burning and burning and consuming and burning with every inch of flesh it coats, rising up the inner throat. Can’t breathe. Doesn’t need to. It’s time! Sin has dissolved out of existence, its matter evaporating - it doesn’t matter, it won’t need to after today.

( Jason Dean isn’t making any sense. )

-- Sorry to come in through the window. Dreadful etiquette, I know. ”

He’s on the top of the world, carefree and confident enough to wrestle a joke in his speech, with tight lips.. He’s high on oxygen and blood flow and the way his knuckles crack when he hoists himself into her room. It’s similar imagery, only so many weeks ago, he’d been on the receiving side. But she’s not in her bed like the image in his head constructs.There’ll be no fucking now - no gifted virginity between crushing kisses and grins and rushed reassurance that, yes, god, hell yes, was he okay with what was going on. She tells him to get out of her house, but that’s not what he hears. All he hears is where the sound comes from. He hears how unsure she seems, as though she can’t make up her mind about whether or not she really hates him, like she’d made it seem before. But he doesn’t have time to think about that. Just his plan - just the future. He’ll make her understand, he knows he can do it. When he smiles like this, his laugh lines look like paper cuts.

It seems so childish. But that’s fine! It’s okay! She’ll come out. Or she’ll be dragged. He’d told her already once - to make an omelette...yadda yadda.

-- All is forgiven, baby. Come on out and get dressed - you’re my date for the pep rally tonight. ”

Because of course she didn’t mean it. With the break up - no, they’re meant to be. The two of them, forever - or at least as long as they last, ridding the world of the shitheads who tear down others to elevate themselves. Two fireworks, lit, fuses intertwined until the second they go up in a shower of flame and sparks and heat. She’s saying something, but he can’t really hear - her words don’t reach him completely, just bounce off his consciousness as he pushes forward, fingers hurriedly fumbling around in pockets. He has to show her!

TOGETHER.

Words are in his head and they mix in their way down to his mouth. Everything scrambled - but it’s okay! He’ll explain. He has to go through it all, so she can see it from his perspective. So she can feel it like he felt it when she chucked him out like he was trash. Like he was nothing. Like she’d stepped into the home they’d built together and just went and blew herself up like nothing mattered and like all the work they’d put into surviving was for naught and like she never even really loved him. For that, she should be dead she should have killed herself or he should have drug her to hell himself because who does that to a person? Who can abandon them like that? Who can treat someone so lost and afraid and cold and broken like that? Like they never really knew him? You? Knew you? Is that who she really is? BUT! BUT BUT! She did know him. From the second they met she’d seen him past all the papery skin and the hurt and the distance and sought him out. She did, he had to believe that he’s here and she’s just through the door just playing a little game and she’ll be so impressed to learn that it hit him like a flash - WHAT IF HIGH SCHOOL WENT AWAY INSTEAD? “ Those assholes are the key!! They’re keeping you away from me!! ” Somewhere along the line it stopped being about being the bigger person. Somewhere it stopped being about the nameless kids with forgettable faces in dozens of hallways across the country, shoved into lockets and spat on like they were dirt. Somewhere it stopped being about the morality, and fighting for a victory for once, and showing the asshole’s who’s boss. Somewhere, they stopped being people. Somewhere, they were just the thing keeping him from her. They made her blind, messed up her mind.

-- But I can set you free !! ”

But I love you! He’d pled, voice like the tinkling of broken glass when it makes its impact with the floor. And all she’d done was look at him like he was...crazy. Even worse - like he was some monster, and she was afraid of him. Afraid of what he’d done. And he’d let himself believe she was different from all the people who deserve to die. She left him and that thought alone had been enough to make him fall apart. With nowhere else to turn, no one to go to, he’d punched the wall - yelling like he does now, lungs quivering with the effort and aching with how fast the exhales come ( BAM! BAM! BAM! ).

Talk about a killer heartbreak.

-- Then I found you changed my heart and set loose all that truthful shit inside! And so I built a bomb - tonight our school is Vietnam! Let’s guarantee they’ll never see their senior prom!”

Maybe prom night, maybe dancing. She’d worried so much about the little things, never the big picture. Even so, he wishes he could see her eyes now, a palm pressing to the smooth wood of the closet door, words rapid-fire rattling against the surface as he twists the handle, desperate, needy to see her, to make sure he’s convincing her of the truth. She’s scared, and it’s okay, he used to be that way, but that doesn’t matter - that doesn’t matter as long as she’s there. As long as she can hold him at the end of the day.

We, the students of Westerburg High, will die. Our burned bodies may finally get through to you - your society churns out slaves and blanks. No thanks. Signed, the students of Westerburg High. Goodbye.

Well, that’s not quite Moby Dick. But it’s close enough.

She can’t leave him like this. He won’t let her. What they’ve started - it’s real. Not when so much soil has been unearthed to bury bodies. Not when they’ve come so far and sacrificed. He can’t do it by himself - he won’t march into their own perfectly crafted sanctuary alone. He’s been alone too long. Far too long.

-- I was meant to be yours! We were meant to be one! I can’t make this alone! Finish what we’ve begun! You were meant to be mine! I am all that you need!”

He’d been through ten high schools. They start to get blurry. But this one - this one had been crystal clear, every moment of it. Every second he’d spent building his walls was crushed as soon as he’d seen the way she looked at him, right there in the beginning. Like he was hope - a revolution on wheels, skidding into a city that had no idea what was coming. She’d saved him more than she’ll ever know, saved him from himself when he’d been so sick of the strangers, so sick of the road, so sick of a dad who can somehow manage to keep grinning and sipping at his beer when he smacks around his flesh and blood.

That voice in his head telling him he’d be better off dead seemed to sound a lot like Big Bud Dean, those days.

-- You carved open my heart!”

Don’t open a vein, Jason Dean.

-- Can’t just leave me to bleed!”

He loves her.

-- VERONICA! Open the - ”

Gentler.

-- Open the door, please!”

Frustration.

-- Veronica! Open the door!”

Pleading. He loves her.

-- Veronica, can we not fight anymore please? Can we not fight anymore?”

Why won’t she open? She’s supposed to understand now. He’s explained it all. Why isn’t she saying anything?

-- Veronica, sure, you’re scared, I’ve been there. I can set you free!”

Together.

-- Veronica, don’t make me come in there! I’m gonna count to three!”

There’s an awful feeling in his gut. Like he’s treading water, but his stomach keeps on sinking lower and lower, drowning, disappearing into the dark depths below.

-- One...two...FUCK IT!”

And the rest of his body drops past the floorboards to join his stomach. Swaying before him - no. No, he can’t. He can’t look, and yet, he can’t tear his eyes away. The world spins around him too quickly and all at once, and he staggers against the doorframe, before the ground comes rushing up to meet trembling knees. The impact is solid, but he doesn’t feel it. He still can’t look away, she --

She doesn’t look peaceful.

If their love is god, will she still be able to go to heaven? Can a place like that even exist when cruelty lives so potently sharp and heavy in every human being?

He’s crying before the shock even completely ebbs. The moisture cascades in droves down the curve of his cheeks, tracing down his jaw and dribbling heavily off his chin. Just moments ago, she’d been alive. She’d done this to escape him - looking at him like a monster. Maybe he is. Maybe this entire thing is fucked beyond his understanding. Maybe what he’s doing is wrong, and Heather, Kurt, and Ram didn’t really deserve this - because she sure as hell didn’t. She did it anyway. She left him. Twice, in just a handful of hours. He’ll never hold her again - not like he had before. He’ll never be able to cup that soft cheek, brush away tears or feel the dimples that are created beneath his palm when she smiles. Never see the warmth reach her eyes again.

She didn’t even say goodbye.

No.

There’s no time to mourn. No time to grieve for what’s been done, no chances to second-guess himself. If this is a war, like he’d said before, then this is by far it’s first casualty. He’ll have time for all of those emotions later - now, someone is heading up the stairs. Someone who will...take care of her. Like he couldn’t. Can’t.

Legs are still unsteady when he scrambles to his feet again, giving a hard swallow and stealing one last lingering glance at her, before vanishing once again out of the window and into the cold, unforgiving afternoon.

#text #┼ || VANISH FROM SIGHT ( ooc ) **#reactionary to SOME OTHER BULLSHIT I READ #THE OTHER DAY #drabbles tag tba.

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