#When you're sad everything feels faded out and muddy

[elf-simp]

The gift of sorrow

Deeper, I'm falling Into the arms of sorrow Blindly descending Into the arms of sorrow

[kim-seung-mo]

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐨𝐧 𝐈 𝐒𝐭𝐚𝐲 | 𝐈𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐮𝐝𝐞 #𝟐

Parings: Reader x Bang Chan (in this chapter)

Trigger Warning(s): implied death, bullying, mentioned blood, arson, a broken arm

Word Count: 1.5k

A/N: first of (many) chan interludes... I really enjoyed writing this chapter hehe

♛ Masterlist ♛ Previous Chapter ♛ Next Chapter ♛

"No matter how tough the times are, keep smiling." Chan's parents have been telling him this since he was a child. Keep smiling, tell the world you won't be beaten down, that no matter what happens you will get up again.

"Traitors, you bunch of traitors!"

But that night, they weren't smiling. Faced with those dressed in plain white, Chan's parents let out one scream after another. Then with a gunshot, the screams faded.

"Betraying us will only end in one way."

Hiding inside the closet of his mom and dad's bedroom because of playing hide-and-seek, Chan, looking out through the crack, heard only those words.

After that, everything went quiet.

"Channie…" He heard his mom's faint voice and hurriedly got out of the closet and ran to her side. His mother shakily reached out her hand and touched his cheek. "Do you remember… where Uncle Y/L/N lives?"

Chan, who was only four years old at the time, clutched his mom's hand tightly with his own little one and nodded frantically, tears about to flow out of his eyes.

"Channie remembers… Next to the, next to the big cherry blossom tree, right?"

Chan's mom pulled out a smile with all her strength, then touched her son's little head one last time. "Don't cry, Channie… remember what Mommy and Daddy told you? What to do in times of sorrow?"

Smile, smile in the saddest of times.

He ran and ran until he couldn't breathe, until his vision was blurred, until his legs had completely lost their strength.

Finally, he collapsed in front of Uncle Y/L/N's house, underneath the cherry blossom tree.

"From now on, this will be your home."

When he woke up, Uncle Y/L/N gently stroked his head, a sad smile on his face.

To survive in an orphanage, you had to be just like everyone else and not stand out in any way.

But it was obvious that Chan was different from everyone else. Because he was always smiling.

"Hey new guy, this is not a place where people are supposed to be smiling."

"Yeah, yeah, what kind of place do you think this is? An amusement park?"

"Let's see if you're still laughing after a couple more days."

Even when pushed down in the muddy water, even when food was snatched away, even when pillows were torn, even when…

"You guys dare touch him again…"

Pushed into the muddy water once more, Chan was about to stand up when a shadow appeared in front of him unexpectedly, blocking out the mean kids.

"Y/N! Why are you taking sides with this new guy?"

Chan stood up holding his knees and raised his head, glancing at your back.

He remembered you, the day he first arrived, you were sitting under the cherry blossom tree. You were the one who went to call the dean to come over. But not only that, he knew who you were. Your name was Y/N, and you were also a "different" person. Always alone, like a doll at all times, with no expression on your face.

But unlike him, you didn't get bullied by the other kids.

"I'll give you only three seconds to disappear. Or your noses will be bleeding even tomorrow."

The words that came out of your mouth sounded similar to the words that the mean kids used to threaten him, but Chan didn't know why, it just had a different feel to it.

Those kids ran away immediately. They never came back to mess with Chan again.

You turned around and looked at him, and there was still no emotion in your eyes. But in Chan's eyes, you were glowing at that moment.

"Why are you smiling? Why don't you fight back?"

Those were the first words you said to him. And he answered like his mom and dad had taught him, "No matter how hard the times are, keep smiling."

You didn't react much to his answer. Just after a few moments of silence, you took his hand and went to the washroom to help him clean the muddy water from his body.

Thereafter, you always had him by your side. The two of you would take naps together under the cherry blossom tree, or you would go to the roof of the orphanage at night to look at the stars. You were always there for him, doing what he wanted to do. You didn't talk often, but when he was talking, you were always listening intently. Whether it was about his parents, or about his future dreams, what he wanted to do when he grew up, you just looked at him and listened. Your hands, from the moment they were held, were never let go of.

He liked to play hide-and-seek and enjoyed making it impossible for you to find him. There was no expression on your face, but when you couldn't find him, your brow would furrow in a confused look. He couldn't make you smile, but it was satisfying for him to make you show any kind of expression.

What he liked most was the look on your face after you found him. Although others may not see the difference, he knew. Every time after finding him, the corners of your mouth would slightly rise, and your eyes would become relatively soft.

He always thought that days like this would last forever.

But on that day when playing hide-and-seek, half an hour had passed and you still hadn't found him.

He had thought he was hiding well and was proudly ready to come out from behind the bushes to scare you.

But the moment he got up, you emerged suddenly from behind him, tightly covering his mouth to keep him quiet.

The view in the distance was not the orphanage, the hill, and the cherry blossom trees he was familiar with.

Instead, it was a sea of fire.

And the people standing on the outermost edge of that sea of fire, holding torches, were dressed in white. It overlapped with the figures he remembered seeing through the cracks in the closet door.

Chan forgot to smile for a moment. Tears welled up from his eyes and fell on the back of your hand.

It was them again, the group dressed in white. Once again, they took away his home.

You let go of your hand and collapsed helplessly backwards onto the ground. It was then that Chan was able to turn around and look at you.

You were covered in bruises and dust, and at first glance it was clear that you had just escaped from the fire. Your left arm was hanging limply, as if it was broken. But the emotion in your eyes at the moment was not only despair, but also relief.

"You're okay…" You said in a voice he had never heard before, "You're okay……"

He understood at once. You thought he was hiding in the orphanage and had been looking for him inside until just now. The wounds and dust on your body at the moment, including the broken arm that was crushed and fractured by the collapsed beam, were all because you were worried about him. You thought he was buried in the fire.

He immediately kneeled down, looking at you overwhelmed, tears kept slipping down, and there was only one thought in his head: he cannot lose you.

"DAY6…" He shuddered, covering his ears, and pronounced the word that appeared in his nightmares. "It's them… It's them again……"

"What are we going to do, what are we going to do? Y/N, Y/N… without the orphanage, we'll die, we-"

You gently wipe away his tears with your right hand, then slide it down and tug his lips to the side with your thumb.

"Don't cry, smile… That's what, you always say……." You leaned your back against a tree and used the rest of the strength of your legs to prop yourself up. Then pull out a smile through the pain. "No matter how hard the times are, you have to smile, right?"

"Tell your enemies with a smile that you won't be defeated by them."

You pulled out a smile with your last strength, and then fainted as you could no longer bear the pain.

"Y/N! Y/N!"

He didn't dare to shout too loudly for fear that he might draw those demons from afar. But seeing you faint, he couldn't hold back his tears and cries in fear.

But he knew he couldn't just give up. You were right, he had to smile, to keep smiling, to tell those people that he wasn't scared at all. He wanted revenge, revenge for his mom and dad, for the dean, and for you.

If he wanted revenge, he had to live first.

Chan knelt down and carried you on his back, and turned in the opposite direction of the orphanage, abandoning the past and taking you with him, running for your future.

Taglist:

@byunhaarmy @ificouldhelpyouforget @foivetimesacharm @chocotacobread @cl0vr @zoe8stay @seungly @yutaalove @chewryy @cosmic-railwayxo @pumkiinpasties @septicrebel

[cal-kestis]

If I Could Never Give You Peace

(Javier Peña x Female Reader)

Gif by @pedropcl​ [original gifset]

Summary: Two years after resigning from the DEA, Javi finds himself in Los Angeles, haunted by glares of gunshots and blood-stained hands. He’d succumbed to the idea that he’d never have peace — doesn’t deserve it after everything he did in Colombia. Then, she moves in next door and maybe, he thinks, things could be different. “I hope this doesn’t scare you,” she whispers, her fingers still tracing shapes over his head. “But I care about you, Javi, a lot. I think I could fall in love with you someday...” She exhales, a quiet, shaky sound. “I think I’ve already started.” Word Count: 4,357 A/N: A Reader-insert one-shot with a nameless female reader. No “Y/N” or "you," but the reader can be anyone. Inspired heavily by Taylor Swift’s “Peace.” How many TS references can you find? Lol. Tags: Fluff, Angst (with a happy ending), Mentions of death (but no one dies, I promise), Alcohol, Cigarettes

[Read on AO3]

The rain is always gonna come if you're standing with me... All these people think love’s for show, but I would die for you in secret... Would it be enough, if I could never give you peace? — Taylor Swift, Peace —

When Javier Peña handed in his DEA badge and gun two years ago, he knew he couldn’t stay in Texas. Not forever.

Texas held too many familiar faces, old friends calling him a hero when he felt like a villain. It held too many ties to an old version of himself he’d rather not remember… muddied images of him with a beautiful woman, an abandoned altar, and a shattered promise. No, he couldn’t stay. Not even for his father.

So, Javier Peña and the unwelcomed overcast of his nightmares found a one-bedroom apartment in sunny Los Angeles.

In time, he realized he needed the city: constant motion, endless traffic, and hoards of busy people who would never remember his face. He could blend in. He could be alone.

He could have a clean slate.

But each night, glares of gunshots flashed behind his eyelids and invisible bloodstains marred his calloused palms as if to remind him:

He could never have peace.

Then, she moved in next door.

The first time he saw her, he only caught a glimpse. She and her boyfriend, he assumed, held towering stacks of brown boxes in front of their faces — sweating as they lugged the dusty weight into the empty space.

For a moment, he considered offering some neighborly help but decided against it — When have you ever cared about being a good neighbor, Javi? — closing himself in his quiet apartment with a glass of whiskey.

The second time he saw her, she came knocking on his door the next night.

“Hi, neighbor,” she smiled brilliantly. And for a split second, he swore he felt something foreign flutter in his stomach, but dismissed it as the after-effects of spoiled dinner. “I just moved in next door and wanted to introduce myself.”

He could not take his eyes off her. His gaze stayed glued to a small bead of sweat trailing a slow path down from her hairline, where she’d pulled it back with a makeshift scarf-headband. The droplet slipped down her cheekbone, over a smudge of dust that had settled in from her moving boxes. It drifted down the curve of her jaw, dipping into the slope of her neck until finally hiding away below her tank top. And by some miracle, she only needed to repeat her name for him once before he came out of the trance.

“Sorry.” He gulped, removing the cigarette dangling from his lips. “Javier.”

He extended his hand and she met him halfway. Soft. So soft.

“Good to meet you, Javier.” She smiled again. Flutter. “I’m sure you’re busy. Just wanted to say hi. I’ll see you around.”

And just like that, she swiftly turned on her heel to walk the few steps back to her door, bare feet strutting off, flaunting her daisy dukes, and — God help him, he’s a man and she’s beautiful — he stared.

The nail in the coffin?

When she opened her door and gave him one last smile over her shoulder, she winked.

No, he could never have peace.

—

After that, he hardly ever sees her.

Part of him feels relieved, unduly wary of the strange flutter he’d feel just thinking of her name. The other part, the traitorously curious part, dreams of catching another glimpse of her glistening skin or a quarter note of her honeyed voice. He’ll never admit it out loud, but he finds himself often wondering if her boyfriend gets to enjoy her sun rays and melodies. Lucky bastard.

He blames his roaming thoughts on the fact that it’s… been a while.

This is what you wanted, he’d remind himself when he’d wake to an empty bed — a stark contrast to his time in Colombia. This is the way things should be.

Just when he starts to believe those words, he finds her crumpled on the floor in front of her apartment — the contents of her purse strewn across the hardwood beside her, palms pressed firmly against her eyes. One tiny sniffle and a tremble of her shoulders, and he melts into a puddle beneath her muddy sneakers.

“Hey,” he whispers tentatively, voice raspy with cigarette smoke.

She jolts at the sound, immediately wiping her face with her sleeves and plastering on a saccharine smile.

“Javier,” she tries to say, but her voice breaks on the vowels. “Sorry, I was just— rough day. And to top it off, I think I left my keys inside. I tried Jerry but no luck.”

“Jerry’s a shit landlord,” he sighs, earning a nod from her. He takes out an old, faded receipt from his pocket and kneels in front of her, finding a pen amongst her spilled belongings. “Try this number. He’s usually fast. Can get you back in your apartment tonight.”

He hands her the scribbled receipt and she takes it with a real smile, albeit small. “Thank you, Javier.”

He nods, a tiny dimple forming in one tanned cheek, before getting up to unlock his apartment. The door clicks but he stands there for a moment longer, listening to her waning sniffles as she throws her things back into her bag. His eyes screw shut tightly, a silent war waging behind his forehead, his fingertips feebly trying to rub it away.

He sighs long and heavy when he realizes which part of him has won.

“Would you... like to come inside my place while you wait?” He mutters, mainly to the floorboards. “I’ll put on a pot of coffee.”

“Okay.” Her smile is warm like the sun, despite the cloud of tears still glazed over her eyes. “But you don’t strike me as a cream and sugar kind of guy.”

“No,” he admits with an amused smirk. “But I’ve got some old whiskey, older milk, and a phone you can use, toll-free.”

“Thanks, Javier,” she sniffles. “Coffee sounds nice. But hold the booze and tainted milk.”

And that’s how she ends up in his apartment, sitting at his small dining table, slowly sipping from his coffee mug, using his landline to call the locksmith.

Maybe it’s the caffeine or the three (stolen) pink packets of sugar she found in her purse (“It’s not stealing. Diners offer dozens of them in cute little boxes, I mean practically gift-wrapped, and I modestly accepted three.”), but coffee gets her talking the way alcohol coaxes even the darkest secrets from iron-barred lips. She just broke up with her boyfriend. Or he broke up with her — found some younger, hotter-than-her aspiring actress in Hollywood and left her in the dust of the boxes she’d just unpacked.

“Sorry,” she whispers. “You’ve been so nice. Really, Neighbor of the Year,” she laughs, but he thinks it sounds off. He wants to hear the real thing. “And here I am, taking up your space, drinking your coffee, and dumping all my problems on the table. Tell me if I’m talking too much, Javier. I tend to—”

“Javi,” he says, furrowing his brows as if mildly stunned by the two syllables he just spoke. She looks confused. “You can... call me Javi, for short. And I don’t mind listening.”

“Javi,” she tests the name on her tongue, smiles. His stomach flutters. “A good name for a good guy.”

The argument dies on his tongue the minute he thinks it, even though she’s horribly, terribly wrong.

Sometimes you gotta do bad things to catch bad people.

If she knew...

“I should be out of your hair in 20 minutes anyway,” she says, breaking him out of his dark reverie. “Locksmith’s on his way.”

When she finally gets back into her own apartment, Javi jostles her doorknob, double-checks the lock, and knocks on wood for good measure.

“Find your keys?”

“Got ‘em!” She chirps, jingling her lost keys. “I’m gonna have to memorize that number.”

“I’m next door, too, if you ever need anything.”

“Me too. I can lend you some sugar for your sad-man, bitter coffee,” she jokes. “Thanks again, Javi.”

He sends her a tight-lipped smile and a short nod, a familiar weight settling in his chest as he turns back to his lonely apartment.

“Would you like to come in for dinner?” She asks, quiet and suddenly timid. “I’m no chef, but I’ve never made a spaghetti I couldn’t tolerate.”

He opens his mouth to refuse but she beats him to the punch. “It’s the least I can do after you helped me out. Please?”

And it’s the way she asks that gets him. The way “please” seems to fall from her lips like an unanswered prayer. He wonders, maybe she’s just as lonely as him.

So, he walks into her apartment, she smiles, and his stomach flips.

—

Months pass by with this new routine. He joins her for dinner at least once a week, if their schedules allow. If not at the local diner where she infamously loots sugar, it’s usually at her place. For one thing, although it’s usually pasta, she tends to have more appetizing (read: edible) groceries stocked up than him. But if he’s being honest, something about her apartment just feels more like… a home.

Framed smiles of her and her loved ones line the walls. With each visit, he finds himself studying a new one, imagining the story behind each snapshot. (He noticed after their first dinner, she’d thrown out the photos of her ex, replacing them with Polaroids of the city.) Piles of pillows stack up neatly on her couch, vibrant hues and patterns decorating the space. He adores the soft waves of music always floating around her space. She plays a different record each time, but somehow, each one compliments the sweet tones of her voice perfectly.

Her place feels brighter than his too, and he’s not sure if it’s the east-facing windows or if it’s just her.

Soon, he doesn’t need to decode the photos on the walls anymore. She tells him more than she’s told anyone before — about her hometown, her family, what she studied in college, her travels, her favorite books, her irrational fears, her dreams.

He tells her considerably less, especially when it comes to his time in Colombia.

For now, she doesn’t mind. She likes the way he watches her when she talks — brown eyes soft and warm, brows pinched together as he takes in each word, the ghost of a grin tugging at one corner of his lips when she gestures dramatically.

He realizes, one night after dinner, he comes home smiling now. And he thinks the nightmares have started dwindling, ever since that first dinner.

Maybe, he lets himself imagine. Things could be different.

—

He calls for you over and over, shouting until his throat burns and the echo of his frantic voice pounds in his ears.  

“Where are you?” He screams.  

The narrow hallway is dark, familiar and unfamiliar at the same time. He crushes his body into the hard wall, arms sliding roughly against cold brick as he tries to keep himself concealed. The gun in his hand feels icy and impossibly heavy, and his arms tremble as they lift the weapon higher, rounding the corner.

“Llegas tarde, Peña,” a deep, gravelly voice sneers. “You’re too late.”

“Tómame!” Javier yells. “Tómame en su lugar.”

“You would die for her?” The voice chuckles. “Llegas tarde.”

The voice’s shadow moves, revealing a smaller shadow crumpled on the floor — lifeless.

“Javier! Javier!” A distant voice chants, accusing him. Boom! Blaming him. Boom!

“Javier!” Boom!

The pounding sound wakes him up with a jolt, and his sweat-slicked chest rapidly rises and falls as he reaches for the gun inside his bedside table.

Slowly, Javier creeps to the front door where the loud pounding started. But when he peers into the peephole, he only finds her — looking as tired and distressed as he feels. A wave of relief floods through his overheated body.

She’s wrapped up in a blanket, a worried look wrinkling her forehead.

He puts his gun down in a drawer and lets her in.

“What time is it?” He asks.

“Almost 4 in the morning.”

“What’s wrong?” He demands, suddenly worried about why she’d be waking him this early.

“You tell me,” she says, frown lines still etched by her eyes — mirroring his own tired marks. “I heard you yelling. I was worried, Javi.”

“It was...” he starts, squinting as the images flash in his mind again. “Just a dream.”

It only takes one glance into his eyes for her to reach out to him, pulling him in by his neck until he nuzzles into hers.

He breathes her in, holds her like he’s not sure she’s real, like she might be gone tomorrow. “It was just a dream,” he echoes, but he’s not sure who he’s trying to convince.

“It was just a dream,” she repeats after him.

She pulls him by his hand toward his couch, sitting down before patting the space beside her. And just this once, he allows himself to let his head rest in her lap, lets her drape her fuzzy blanket over him, lets her soft fingers draw slow circles in his hair, lets her lull him to sleep with mumbled whispers he can’t quite make out, and lets her ward off the lurking darkness like a nightlight.

He’s asleep before he can hear the quiet secret that spills from her lips.

“I hope this doesn’t scare you,” she whispers, her fingers still tracing shapes over his head. “But I care about you, Javi, a lot. I think I could fall in love with you someday...” She exhales, a quiet, shaky sound. “I think I’ve already started.”

She comes over to his apartment more frequently after that. Whether to bring him dinner or just sit on his couch in comfortable silence, she doesn’t like to leave him alone.

And maybe, she’d rather not be alone either.

—

He doesn’t remember how she convinced him, but here he is... sitting at a crowded bar drinking water, watching his tipsy neighbor bouncing alone on the small dance floor.

Every so often, some cocky drunk comes up to put his hands on her waist and tries to dance with her, but she plasters on a faux smile and shakes her head at them, muttering something while nodding in Javier’s direction. Each time, they sulk away and he chuckles.

Finally, she bounces over to him, tugging at the sleeve of his leather jacket.

“Dance with me, Javi. Please,” she draws out the word, an octave higher than normal.

And despite himself, he follows her voice like a sailor enthralled by a siren’s song.

She puts her arms around his neck, swaying her body against his. And then she shouts over the music, “I’m so glad we’re friends.”

And the heart on his sleeve falls straight to the floor, clanging loudly in his ears like metal.

‘Friends’ is more than you deserve, he reminds himself.

But then she continues, resting her head against his chest, her index finger coming up to tap a tantalizingly slow beat over his collarbone. “Good friends,” she sighs, lifting her gaze until her chin digs into his heart, her lips just inches from his. “Really… good… friends.”

She’s kissing him before he can even process the feeling. And despite his better judgment, he lets her. She’s everything warm and soft and good, with just a hint of alcohol — and he’s what you get when you turn those words upside down, jumble the letters, and crumple the paper into a jagged ball. But he craves the way her curves somehow fit perfectly against his cold, shattered edges. And he knows he shouldn’t.

So, when he feels her tongue trace along the seam of his mouth, he gently pulls away, hands rubbing soothing circles on her shoulders.

“You’ve had too much to drink, cariño,” he says. “Let’s go home.”

“Okay,” she whispers, smiling with half-lidded eyes, drawing her finger across his mustache then below his ever-pouting lip.

She’s passed out in his car by the time they’re back home. When he unlocks her apartment door for her, she stays latched onto his arm as he turns to leave.

“Stay,” she whispers.

“I—”

“Please?” She asks, in that way he knows he can’t fight. “I don’t want to be alone.”

And just like that, the door closes behind him and he stays.

He finds her an oversized shirt to change into, helps her wipe the smudged mascara off her face, and holds her until the sun rises.

When she wakes, the space beside her is empty but warm and indented, the shape of his body lingering in the sheets. A full glass of water, ibuprofen, and the phantom taste of Javi’s lips are the only other traces of her really… good... friend.

—

He’s not avoiding her… per se. But it’s a long, lonely week later when he sees her again, on an uncharacteristically rainy Sunday outside their apartment building.

“I just got home,” she blurts after standing there dumbfounded for a good minute. She nods to the soaked brown paper bags in her arms. “Groceries. Uh, obviously. Were you...?”

“Forgot my umbrella,” he answers.

“Same,” she chuckles awkwardly, droplets hanging on her lashes and the ends of her hair, only partially covered by her hood. “Obviously.”

“Here, let me help you.” He takes the bags from her, keeping the door open with his foot as he waits for her to head inside.

“Thanks, Javi-er.”

He follows her upstairs silently, his wet, squeaking shoes punctuating each slow and heavy step.

“I can—”

“Let me just—”

They fumble and dance around each other in her doorway as he sets her bags in her apartment. And, as if to torture herself, she decides to stand under her door frame when he leaves to grab his umbrella, waiting the longest minute of her life for him with a forced smile.

He waves his umbrella at her after locking his door. “I’ll see you later.”

“Yeah.”

He nods and walks back down the stairs.

“Javier, wait.”

He pauses, his back still facing her, drenched shoes balanced on two different steps.

“Can we talk?” She hates the way her voice sounds when she asks, tinny and trembling. Clearing her throat, she clarifies, “About what happened... at the bar?”

He sighs, screwing his eyes shut tight and rubbing his forehead.

“There’s nothing to talk about,” he says, low and barely audible as the rain starts picking up outside. And he walks away.

She’s stunned still, watching as his figure shrinks with each step he takes away from her. He’s already out of the building by the time frustration fuels her feet to follow him into the rain.

“Like hell there’s nothing to talk about,” she yells over the downpour, hair quickly sticking flat to her face. “Javi, we kissed!”

“You were drunk,” he says, just loud enough for her to hear, still walking.

“I wasn’t drunk,” she argues to his back, remembering with perfect clarity exactly how his lips felt on hers. “Just a bit braver. Javi, stop! Look at me. Please.”

And like clockwork, he turns slowly but doesn’t move any closer.

So, she closes the distance to stand beside him under his umbrella, taking in his features without the obscurity of rain.

“What are you running from?” She wonders, reaching for his fidgeting hand. “I would never hurt you. I—”

The line between his brows looks deeper than usual, as if they’d been stuck in that pinched position for weeks. Shadows lay in rings beneath his eyes, accompanied by smaller lines that carry untold stories she hopes he’ll entrust her with someday. His mouth is parted just slightly, as if to say something he knows could change everything.

And it does.

“I have to go.”

Her hands are empty and wet when he leaves. And the rain buries his parting words into the pavement.

I don’t want to hurt you.

—

She doesn’t hear from him for two weeks. Doesn’t even catch a glimpse of him.

The rain sticks around longer than usual for Los Angeles, making her apartment feel cold and gloomy. But maybe, it’s just missing him as much as she is.

Then, while she’s folding her laundry one night, she hears his door rattle and practically bolts to her own. He’s there. Keys in hand, rolling luggage in the other, hair tousled like he’s been pulling at it with his fingers. He looks at her when she opens her door, just for a beat too long, before hiding away in his apartment.

She sighs, closing her door in defeat.

But just as she starts getting ready for bed, she hears two knocks at her door, heart beating rapidly as she slowly makes her way to open it.

“Hi, neighbor,” he greets her softly, and the sound of his voice after so long without it nearly brings her to tears.

“Where did you go?” She asks. But she really means, Why did you leave?

“Texas,” he says. “I... needed to see my dad.” But he really means, I was scared.

“Oh.”

“Can I...” he mutters. “Can I come in please?”

She hesitates for only a second before stepping aside and he looks around like he hasn’t seen the inside of her apartment hundreds of times already.

He stops near her bedroom, where a new picture hangs proudly: a goofy, blurry photo of him stashing three pink packets of sugar in his shirt pocket.

“It’s the only photo you’ve let me take of you,” she says quietly, standing next to him with a wistful smile on her face. “I miss our diner dates.” But she really means, I miss you.

He doesn’t respond, just silently walks to her couch and sits, fingers rubbing circles into his forehead.

Minutes roll by slowly as she watches him from the other side of the room, battling with some invisible hand covering his mouth, holding on until the end to keep the words locked up.

“I’m not a good man,” he whispers, so softly she almost doesn’t hear it. “I’ve done things I’m not proud of... back in Colombia. I’m not sure I’ll ever be ready to tell you. I think a part of me is still there, fighting some unwinnable war. Hell, even before Colombia, I—”

Muddied images of a beautiful woman, an abandoned altar, and a shattered promise flash in his mind.

“Fuck. I can’t shake it,” he says, looking up at her with red-rimmed eyes, waving the invisible iron shackles on his wrists to show her. “Any of it. The nightmares...” He recalls her shadowy body and a dark, menacing voice. “They’ve followed me for years. I—” he looks at her, eyes darting across her face. “I could never give you peace.”

His head hangs low and a wayward curl brushes against his forehead. Despite how much space he takes up on her couch, he looks so small, defeated —  the weight of his past crushing him into this tiny, torn, crumpled-up piece of paper covered in red-inked, scratched-out sentences.

“Javi,” she whispers, but he doesn’t meet her eyes. So, she crosses the room and kneels in front of him, her palms reaching for his cheeks and lifting his gaze to hers. “Javi, who said anything about peace?”

The wrinkles deepen between his brows as he studies her, tries to understand what she means in the cloudy orbs of her eyes.

“The past is the past. We’ve all done things we can’t speak of. And sometimes at night, we live it all again. God knows I’m far from perfect. But I know you’re a good man, Javi. I see you,” she tells him, stroking the curves of his cheekbones with her thumbs.

“I’m not—”

“Do you trust me?” She interrupts his argument. He stares at her, blinks, before nodding once.

“Then trust what I’m saying. You’re not perfect. But you’re good.”

His eyes close as soon as she sees water beginning to pool behind his lashes.

“I’m not asking for peace. As long as I get to be with you, it would be enough.”

And then his lips are crashing into hers, pulling her into his lap until he’s covered in her. The sound he makes when they touch is devastatingly beautiful, like she’s a balm soothing his freshest wounds and healing his oldest scars. It feels like his entire body has exhaled — lungs deflated, bones liquified, mind released from a decades-old straitjacket. If not for gravity, he could float from the way his stomach is fluttering. His shoulders lower and he sighs as if he’d been holding his breath for his entire life until this moment.

He’s drowning in her, submerged to the top of his head. But he can finally breathe.

“I’m sorry I ran,” he whispers into her skin. “I’m sorry I left, cariño,” he kisses just below her ear. “My dad said I was the biggest asshole on the planet for leaving. I’m sorry, baby. So sorry,” he licks the seam of her lips.

“Mi alma, you have no idea,” he sighs when she parts her lips for him. “How much I love you.”

And she captures the words on her tongue, kissing him with a ferocity that says, Yes, I do.

“Want to know a secret?” She gasps when his lips trail down her neck. Her voice is barely a whisper, as feather-light as her fingertip skating across his shoulder.

He hums, a soft, lazy smile stretching his lips wide, so wide.

“I don’t think it’s possible,” she says, staring into his deep brown eyes. “That I’ll ever love anyone more than I love you, Javi.”

Her finger stops, retracted to shield herself after such a heavy confession. His eyes blink slowly, head lifting off the couch cushion.

He doesn’t say a word. He only stares at her, the softest smile on his face — his edges blurring into gentle curves in front of her very eyes.

“You’re it for me,” she finalizes.

And then they’re crashing into each other again and again and again.

End Notes: Look, it’s been almost 10 years since I sat in a Spanish class and watching Narcos only restored 3% of my limited vocabulary. Here’s what I got from Google Translate: “Llegas tarde.” = You’re too late. “Tómame!/ Tómame en su lugar.” = Take me!/ Take me instead. “Cariño” = Darling, honey “Mi alma” = My soul P.S. Please let me know if I missed any tags/triggers!

[no-braincells]

Roses and Regret

"I know who you really are!" The gnome shouted at the dark figure that towered over her. She balled up her fists as the figure chuckled at her remark.

"Oh, do tell me then, who am I" with each word, his voice contorted and deepened. His rose red eyes glowed menacingly as he approached her.

"You're a sad, sad spirit, that's so lost" Shrub backed away from Xornoth as he loomed over her, "and you keep being reborn so angry because no one EVER LOVED YOU!!”

He cackled like thunder, loud and bold. He grimaced at the gnome’s words, “Why would I even need love when I can do THIS.” He shot a beam of twisting red and black thunder, giving a hard impact to her head, making her stumble.

The grass seemingly swayed under her feet, everything around moved and twisted unnaturally, she clutched her head as she felt pain flood her body. Shrub fell down to the soft soil, Xornoth who loomed over her menacingly before now had a face of regret. He couldn’t regret what he was doing, after all, he wiped out the gnome population so easily, he was made to rule Rivendell but, everything hurt.

Yes everything was different, but it was supposed be a good type of new, yet his magic felt like it was encasing his heart in red vines, crushing it so agonizingly slow. He was supposed to feel better, stronger and more valiant, but he felt like everything could hurt him so much more, was this the price for more power?

The gnome was knocked out cold, a small bit of red trailing down her forehead. As he approached the small figure, he placed a clawed finger onto the red substance, blood. The blood trickled down his finger onto the soft grass, he now noticed that his hand, his dark clawed fingers faded into a light pale ivory.

Drip

Drip

Drip

The darkness that once enveloped Xornoth had started falling, slipping away from him. He stood, looking at his pale ivory hand, then rushing towards the small pond to see himself. The darkness fell and trickled off of part of his face, he had caramel brown hair and light hazel eyes?

He could barely remember who he was before, before he met Exor. Exor gifted him powers and all he could want, but he felt empty. Everything that Exor gave him was so artificial and fake, they didn’t feel like he properly earned or deserved everything that was handed to him but Exor insisted.

After all you are it’s future ruler, so you deserve everything to destroy and ensure that titles will still be yours

And if you doubt this, I’ll gladly give this role to the next successor once you DECAY WITHOUT MY GUIDANCE!!

Exor screamed through Xornoth’s head, he didn’t want to be a tyrant, he just wanted to be safe and treated like a proper elf instead of a misfortune. He was nothing but ‘a harm to the throne and it’s people’ but he wanted to provide and protect them, yet he was exiled. Would he truly decay without Exor, be nothing but a fallen prince with nothing to his name.

So he fled, into the thick oak and birch forests, the tree’s canopy above gave him a sense of comfort. He’d rather be thrown and sacrificed to the wolves to be something that harms his family, his brother.

Brother?

He had a brother? Everything was frizzing and buzzing in a chaotic harmony, all around him flooded his mind, sensing the growls of wolves, the texture of the grass under him, the slow bristles of the leaves around them. Being aware of everything hurt, it echoed in his mind constantly, the more he ran the more deep sludge slipped and dropped off Xornoth in a trail.

He ran till he couldn’t, till he felt even the smallest breeze could break him like glass. He tumbled down onto the grass, the deep muddy texture relaxing and his mind cleared and darkened. Till everything was silent.

He laid there covered in mud, surrounded by blossoming roses and poppies, he would’ve been completely hidden if not his bright caramel hair in contrast to the deep green of the soft grass.

A remake of the really terrible one I did before, I will redo the second part and then add a link! Do expect Afterlife content tho after this

[scarahoeche]

Pairing: Diluc x gn!reader

Type: angst

Warnings: character death

A/n: this still sucks but not as much as the last one.. I hope you enjoy. Sorry in advance for any spelling mistakes.

@genshin-obsessed

_______________________________________________

Diluc was a very private man. Always choosing to show you his love away from prying eyes. If someone ever saw you two being lovey-dovey he'd shy away. 

You and Diluc were In the tavern, your body's pressed close together. He had his arms wrapped around your waist, swaying your body from side to side. 

You loved Diluc more than anything in the world. The way he holds you in private always told you he loved you too. 

"I love you." His voice was barely a whisper. You looked up into his eyes and saw they were twinkling with love. His eyes always showed his emotions. When he was sad the red would turn muddy. When he was mad his eyes would turn like a bright fire, burning everything in its path.

You giggled, laying your head in his chest. His arms around you tightened causing you to slightly wheeze. "Diluc! It's too tight!" You giggled, burning your head farther Into his chest. He let out a small chuckle holding you even tighter.

_______________________________________________

The ring in your hand was beautiful. The diamonds twinkling brightly in the sunlight. 

The tears streaming down your face were evident enough that he had just proposed to you. "Yes! Yes yes yes! I accepted!" You nodded your head rapidly, bringing diluc into a hug. 

"I'm so happy." Dilucs smile was far much better than anything. He hardly ever smiled, seeing it brought so much joy to you. 

The wind blew lightly around you bringing small dandelions through the air almost as if the gods were celebrating with you. 

"I love you so much diluc." 

_______________________________________________

You walk down the aisle. The wedding outfit you wore was beautiful. The white made you appear so pure as if you were an angel from the heavens.

You walk closer and closer to diluc the smile on his face growing each step you take. His eyes were glossy as you finally stepped in front of him. He looks at you with much love, it made you feel like you were the most beautiful thing on this planet. 

The wedding was small. Only his closest friends. Jean and Lisa were crying in the back. Klee was sitting down now that she was done throwing the petals in front of where you walked. Venti wasn't invited yet he came anyway. All his friends got to witness the happiest days of his life.

The minister talks before you guys finally say your vows. 

"Diluc Ragnvindr, you have made me the happiest person in the world. Without you, I would be nothing. You made my life worth living and I couldn't imagine what I would do without you. Every moment spent with you makes me feel like I'm flying on a cloud. Yet, one moment will always be my favorite moment. When venti was too drunk insisting he wouldn't leave the tavern. So I had to help you kick him out, I have to thank venti who brought us together. I promise I will always love you and take care of you. When your angry I promise to make your favorite grape juice. if your sad I promise to be by your side.  Choose you to spend the rest of my life with."

"Y/n L/n, you are the most amazing person I have ever had the pleasure of meeting. Each day you make me feel like I'm a person. You make me feel alive. I'm no longer lonely when I have you around. You've made me the happiest man to ever exist. Having you around always brightens my day. I promise to always be by your side. I will protect you, make you happy, comfort you. Even if I'm no longer on this planet I will always be with you. You may not see it but I'm always by your side. When I see you cry it makes me feel like the worst person in the world. I wish I could hug you but I am unable. I'm sorry for doing this to you."

The minister keeps talking. "Do you, Y/n take diluc to be your lawfully wedded husband?" They look deeply into your eyes as if looking into your soul. You brush this off before speaking, "I do."

"Diluc, do you take y/n L/n as your lawfully wedded spouse?"

"..." You look at Diluc waiting for his response yet nothing comes out. His eyes seemed almost lifeless. The color I'm them slowly fading to a muted red.

"Diluc…?" Your eyebrows creased with worry. Did he not want you anymore? Was this all just a lie? 

Your eyes filled with tears. You look down not wanting to be seen. This was already embarrassing enough. 

As you look down you see red pudding down near your feet. What? Your eyes follow the red that was dripping down from something. As you look up, you see a spear lodged straight through dilucs abdomen.

"Diluc!" His body slowly falls yet to catch him before he could hit the ground. The whole world seemed to fade around you. You hold onto his back rubbing slow circles around it

"Diluc! What happened to you!" Your mind was a mess. You look around yet the world seemed to fade into black. Your breathing becomes heavy as you focus your vision back on diluc.

"You need to wake up." His voice was grave. It almost scared you. This voice was only used when he was mad about something.

"W-What? What are you talking about diluc!" Tears drip down your face and onto his. "What's going on! You're scaring me!" The scream that came out of your throat was cracked. It felt like you were drowning. No matter how hard you try to swim to the surface the waves keep pushing you farther and farther down.

"I'm... sorry. You need to wake up." He places his hand on your cheek like he always uses to when you were sad. Yet, his hand felt like nothing. You could only feel the pressure of it on your cheek. 

"Diluc what are you saying! Stop this! I am scared!" His body was disappearing from your grasps. No no no no NO! 

"Wait! Please p-please don't leave me!" You press your head against his chest hugging him tight hoping he wouldn't leave. Much to your despair, you were soon holding nothing but golden flakes that slowly blew away, disappearing into the darkness.

"P-please don't leave me.."

_______________________________________________

The ocean you were drowning in slowly faded yet it still left you gasping for air. Your vision slowly adjusted to the darkness. You look around and see you were in your room.

Subconsciously, you move your hand to the side of the bed in search of your lover's warmth and comfort, I return only feeling the coldness of a sheet.

Everything slowly comes back to you. Everything that happened was true. Your lover was no longer with you. You will never feel the warmth you once felt. You will never see their smile. You'll never see them.

Oh, how you wished it could have been you instead of him.

[avoidofgaystupidity]

Midoriya's Sacrifice

Hey there!

So for mother's Day, I decided that instead of being a good child (even though I was) that I would write this. So basically I'm a monster. You're welcome...

This is my first time posting on here properly. So I want it to look good!

Anyway

Warnings: Character death and gore

I hope you enjoy

He was almost at his limit, he could feel it. His bones were close to shattering from his own quirk. And nobody could interfere with this fight or they could die. There were so many civilians behind the police tape. So many heroes keeping them all safe. He was the only person who could fight this villain. The only person strong enough.

And he was only 15 years old.

He was drenched from the rain. But he knew without even looking that blood was covering his legs and his arms. He could tell from the red trail Infront of him, from the metallic smell that was only making him dizzier, and from how whenever he tried to get back up his legs would buckle beneath him.

But he needed to keep going.

He is a hero. He has to save everyone.

But the pain was overtaking him as he tried to pay attention to the villain, his vision was blurring up and his head was throbbing as he felt himself be slammed back through a gate and into a wall behind him. He let himself fall to the ground, he was far enough away from the villain that he could gather his strength. He could get back up again. And keep fighting.

He could. Couldn't he?

The whirring if helicopters helped him push himself up against the wall, getting into his good leg while holding his left arm. He could barely see anything that wasn't covered in the lights of the reporters from the helicopters. He couldn't see through the rain. He couldn't see at all. And all he could hear was his heartbeat. And it was getting slower. In the distance he saw the villain approaching slowly. They knew they could take their time. Deku would surely be easy to beat.

Deku knew he could only last so much longer...

So he pushed himself up slightly and looked up at the helicopters. Giving one last heroic smile before he let himself fall back to the cold ground.

Relief.

He knew what was coming, and he accepted it. He had fought with his life. And he would be remembered as a hero. There was nothing else he could do. So he just sat there. And waited for the footsteps to get closer as his vision faded into darkness.

But then he heard an extra set of footsteps. The screaming of the police. The screaming of a woman. And the horrid sound of a blade slicing a body open.

And suddenly Deku had the strength to open his eyes again, just in time to see as his saviour flew back a few feet and collapsed to the ground. A woman with green hair. A woman with a familiar voice. Her screams were ringing through his head as he forced himself to crawl over to her body. She sounded heartbroken. Her blood was everywhere. Her voice was shaking when she screamed. No pulse. Her breathing had stopped. No heartbeat. She sounded horrified.

"There has been 1 innocent victim during this fight" he heard the reporters. But paid special attention as they spoke. "It appears to be the body of Inko Midoriya"

Why did this lady have the same name as him? Midoriya wasn't common as far as he knew.

"This heroic boy's mother, Inko Midoriya-"

"It appears that Inko Midoriya. The mother of Izuku Midoriya, also known as Deku has jumped Infront of an attack, to protect Deku"

"Inko Midoriya-"

"Deku's mother, Inko"

"Inko-"

His Mum? ... They must be mistaken. He turned her over slowly and was met with blank eyes. A look of horror on her face and tears running down her face along with the rain. She was cold.

"Inko midoriya appears to have sacrificed her life in order for Deku to continue to fight for japan" one reporter spoke to the camera.

His mother.

His mother had sacrificed herself. For Japan. For all the innocent civilians. For all the heroes who were on the way to the fight.

For him.

Her lifeless eyes were full of fear. As his shaking hands reached out to close them. She was a hero. And he would tell her story. He would make sure of it.

Tears filled his eyes and he found the strength to stand himself up and stare into the eyes of his rival. A sparkle in their eyes along with a sadistic grin as they held their blade to the side of his throat. He could feel himself bleeding already.

And everything suddenly became so overwhelming. Tears fell down his face and he screamed at the top of his lungs, his legs let out and he fell to his knees. His head felt like it was going to explode. His bones felt like they were shattering from the pain. Under the guilt of letting his mother risk her life. Under the guilt of almost letting himself be killed. He looked into the villains eyes. And all he saw was darkness. No Empathy, no regret, no sadness, no humanity. This was a monster.

"Now why don't you go visit your mother? And tell her in person what a terrible hero you've been?"

"Her sacrifice meant nothing. Because you're going to die anyway. You're a disgrace"

Deku fell back into the wet muddy ground, his eyes closing so all he could focus on was the noise of his own blood splattering the floor. The reporters were silent. The crowd was silent. He could hear his heart beat getting slower. He could hear as his breathing slowed down.

His eyes opened one last time.

And all he saw was his mother's blood covered face.

She looked so sad. Like she had witnessed his downfall.

And he slipped away. Full of regret. Full of sadness. While knowing that one for all was dead.

[scartale-an-undertale-au]

Colorful Slumber

Co-creator note: Liv did not actually help that much with the actual words and therefore takes no responsibility for your suffering (my note: she's lying, she is totally responsible :3c) Broke: Hyakkimaru gains his eyes when dororo dies Woke: Hyakkimaru gains his eyes when HE dies

Liv @evig-sang is an amazing writer and i'm so glad she helped me writing it. this little guilty pleasure one shot was bred from the amazing discord guys that always feed me with the worst ideas *cackle* while i wrote it (in record time for me), they gave me ideas unknowingly and are probably beating themselves up for worsening my ideas XDXD

anyways, enjoy~

p.s.and please comment and tell me how you liked it! i love hearing you guys and i love knowing how you feel after witnessing my baby die *giggle*

Something burned in his eye-sockets and spilled onto his cheeks. He could hear the echo of crying and murmuring.

What… what happened?

He remembered a demon…

Oh, he slayed the demon.

Good…

But why…

Where was he—

Oh, he remembered. His… father… he came to kill him again? He called him a demon child again? He was a demon… but he was human… Dororo said he was human… but his father sired him… that’s what fathers do according to Dororo…

But…

Why did his eye-sockets burn? Why was everything so… muddy?

His eyelids fluttered open. How strange… there was usually no reason to close them…

Anyways… Dororo… where is his little brother?

Why… why is…

He felt his little brother’s tiny arms encircle him, a heavy head land on his chest, muffled sobs echoing in his head.

“Aniki… please don’t die… please don’t leave me… I’m so sorry for not being here… I am so sorry I agreed to separate. I’m so sorry… please please please …”

Oh, he remembered now… he fought all those people… he… he killed again… he didn’t want to kill again… Dororo was so sad after he killed those people after Mio…

Mio…

Dad…

Dororo…

A pressure on his stomach. Heat burning his insides yet… he was feeling colder than before… how odd...

“Aniki, please… stay with me. Biwamaru went to get help. Please don’t die!”

Footsteps came closer. He blinked at the souls swirling strangely in his sight.

Dororo growled. “What are you doing here, you bastard! You don’t deserve anything from Aniki! Get lost, you Samurai!” His little brother spit the word like venom.

Oh… Dororo is upset… calm his down… he raised his hand and caressed the familiar cheek. Dororo shifted, the color of his soul swirling into unknown color.

So strange… what was happening to his sight… was he… dying?

Is that why everything is so colorful?

Dororo let out a guttural sob. “Aniki…”

He let his mouth stretch up like Dororo taught him. “Do...ro...ro…”

“Aniki, don’t talk. You need to keep your strength.”

“Big brother—”

“Get lost! Don’t speak to him!” Dororo spat at the other soul… it was Tahomaru… his blood… brother…

He raised his free hand, Tahomaru catching it as it nearly fell. “Big brother?”

He coughed, feeling boiling wetness spill from his throat. Everything became so blurry...

“Aniki!”

“Big brother…”

What a strange sight...

A very… very… blurry one.

The new colors moved in place of the souls. White spots glistened and fell. He felt the spots hit his skin. Like tears do...

Wait… like tears… his eyes…

Huh… so those were tears…

So cold…

What a strange sight…

He had never seen those colors before. Dororo looked so… colorful…

So he gained his eyes at last...

He pulled Dororo’s ‘face’ closer, seeing his colorful form move down, Dororo-shaped blob following it. He thumbed the bubbling white spots, seeing the blob shift under his own colors.

"Dororo… you're… so… colorful…"

"Aniki…?"

Buzzing vibrated in his head. How annoying… just when he thought he got used to hearing…

“Big brother… have you… your eyes... like mother’s…”

So hard to hear…

But… nice to be… compared to… mama… mama… good… things…

“Aniki!”

So colorful… so peaceful...

What a view…

Too bad it turned back to darkness…

So dark…

He felt his consciousness fade away and let it go.

And then...

He fell asleep.

Liv’s note: I did not actually help that much with the actual words and therefore takes no responsibility for your suffering (my note: she's lying, she is totally responsible :3c)