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geekthefreakout · 6 months ago

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After the War, Before the Peace

After Sasuke and Naruto free the world, both of them are hospitalized. Even Sakura's incredible skills as a medic cannot replace the blood and chakra they have lost.

There are many grumblings from many parties about sealing Sasuke's eyes immediately, but this makes Naruto and Sakura Very Grumpy, and Kakashi uses his power as the Sixth Hokage to allow Sasuke and Naruto to heal in the same hospital room, with the caveat that they will both be guarded by ANBU.

During those days at the hospital, Naruto and Sasuke talk. There are many apologies made, explanations given. Sasuke indulges Naruto's insistence on measuring the stumps of their arms against each other, his low voice riling Naruto up with theories about whose attack was most powerful. Naruto couldn't be happier.

As they recover (at the same pace for once, as Kurama is sleeping), neither of them talk about the After of it all. The Consequences. It is nice to imagine that the two of them can stay like this. Their imaginations aren't quite strong enough to stop them from flinching when the door opens, wondering if this visitor will be the one to say their grace period is over, that Sasuke is being tried.

Today's visitor is...

"Gaara!" Naruto sits up straight, turning to face his friend properly. "You're still here!"

"I'm leaving this afternoon. There is much to be done back in Suna. I wanted to see you before I left." Gaara's clear eyes flick over to the other bed. "And I wanted to see him for myself."

Sasuke meets Gaara's gaze. The two stare each other down for a moment, but just before Naruto is about to say something, Sasuke looks away.

"Lord Kazekage." He mutters. He knows that Gaara and Naruto have become close, and he tries not to let it bother him.

"Uchiha Sasuke." Gaara greets back, before shifting his attention back to Naruto. "I should apologize for doubting you back then. I know better than most that you always keep your promises."

Naruto shakes his head fiercely.

"You were speaking to me as a kage and as a friend. Never apologize for that, Gaara." There is a moment of hesitation. "Have you heard anything?"

"There's a lot of debate. Sasuke did a lot of damage, and no one has forgotten the way he attacked the conference. Even if," Gaara holds up a hand to forestall Naruto's interruption, "there were extenuating circumstances. He did not endear himself to foreign powers that way, particularly the Raikage. Although I expect most of the cries for his punishment will come from within the Leaf itself-- the other shinobi nations will want to focus on their own recovery from the war."

"He hardly hurt the village! Danzo was a monster, if anything Sasuke did us all a favor--"

"Naruto." Sasuke's quiet voice closes Naruto's mouth. "I would have done worse to the Leaf, blinded by hatred as I was. I don't think we can move forward by pretending that is not true. Look what I did... to you."

"I already kicked your ass about that, bastard." Naruto says dismissively. "You're not gonna do it again."

"'Kicked my ass' is a strong term, dumbass."

"Yeah. It is. Cuz I STRONGLY kicked your--"

"At any rate." Gaara intervenes, "It's impossible to say what the outcome will be just now-- there are too many variables."

"I'll make sure it turns out alright." Naruto says, glancing first at Sasuke, then at Gaara.

"I believe you." Gaara pauses a moment, tilting his head. "At the very least, I imagine Sasuke will have his travel heavily restricted for some time."

Sasuke grits his teeth, but doesn't protest. Gaara looks at him for another long moment, then a small smile appears on his face.

"It will not, however, be restricted in the Sand Village. As far as I am concerned, as long as you are willing to vouch for him, he may visit the Land of Wind as he pleases."

Naruto and Sasuke both look at Gaara with wide eyes-- Naruto's a little misty, Sasuke's a little guarded.

"Why?" Sasuke asks at last.

"Because I know better than anyone what it is like to be lost, and to have Naruto Uzumaki find you." Gaara says softly, warmly. "And because I would like to see my precious friend every now and again, and I get the distinct feeling that he won't be letting you out of his sight for a while."

Naruto throws himself at Gaara, his one arm wrapping around his shoulders.

"You're the best, Gaara." he mumbles into Gaara's shoulder.

Gaara is stiff for a moment, unused to the contact, then wraps his arms around Naruto in turn, keeping his eyes on Sasuke over Naruto's shoulder.

"Thank you," Sasuke says, but he is not looking at Gaara. He is looking at Naruto's back, his eyes soft. Gaara nods as Naruto pulls away.

"Oy, Gaara..." Naruto rubs the back of his head, a shy smile on his face as he looks at his friend. "I, uh... I heard you made a really awesome speech before the war, you know. Did you, um... Did you really say..."

"Naruto." Gaara keeps one hand on Naruto's shoulder. "You changed my life. You, who were my enemy, became my friend and showed me a better way, a better version of me. I am where I am because you reached out your hand. After all of that, how could I do anything less than fight a war for you?"

Naruto blushes, stutters, and then laughs.

"Don't go giving me all the credit. All I did was kick your ass when you needed it. You did the rest all by yourself."

"And now you've kicked his ass." Gaara smiles, nodding towards Sasuke. "And his eyes are no longer the eyes of a murderer. They are the eyes of someone who has seen the light."

"I have." Sasuke says. "And I'll do what I have to to earn my place in it."

"You don't have to earn anything." Naruto says, but Sasuke and Gaara look at each other and know better.

"I'll hold you to it, Sasuke." Gaara says, and he holds out his hand.

Sasuke shakes it.

#sabaku no gaara #sasuke uchiha #naruto uzumaki #naruto shippuden #naruto #naruto fanfiction #gaanaru #kinda anyway #also maybe a little #sasunaru #can be either or take your pick #even sasunarugaa if you want

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redjaybathood · 9 months ago

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Honestly, Jason was jealous of Duke. Not that he thought the kid had it easy. Their age difference was what, five years? Seven, okay. So Duke missed the first time Gotham was occupied and surrounded, with no escape in sight. But then Jason was either dead or almost brain-dead during No Man's Land. İt evened things out.

"So how do you do it?" Jason asked, vaguely gesturing at the surroundings, both of them perched on the roof, people trying to get him before dark running like ants before a rain, below them.

Duke paused in the middle of telling him about the last basketball game - Jason wasn't even sure how the local team was called, is the thing.

"Play sports?" he asked, amused.

"Play sports, watch sports, do anything, you know, fun. Do anything that isn't this. Do anything, period. Maybe it's that I'm old, but I never believed that there's anything after. A better life for us or anyone, should we stop doing what we do."

"But you're still doing it," Duke said, shrugging. "Because what else we can do? Stop? We will be buried out here. We and a million other people, who can't do what we do."

"They can. We weren't born with this either. Okay, I'm not talking about your meta gene, apparently it is hereditary. But I'm talking about your being here. You suited up long before you find out you has superpowers. You did it before you got training, too. That, they can do."

Duke suddenly lost his energy. Looked straight down, then back at the horizon. Pointed at 3 o'clock.

"See, here? Westwood cross subway stations. Defunct for four years now."

"Yeah," and Jason did, and he even heard the story, but...

"One of the guys I started with, he died there. And if there was more people with us, if there was someone staying with him, he would not be the only one who blew up."

"But we also die. And we are not enough. There's no way we can hold on for much longer. We're gone, who's going to replace us?"

"We are them. One of us dies, another raises up. Four. Thirty. Like Strike, right? There was no one to cover the hill during the Joker's War. She did it. She and her team. The team you're on now. So there's no us and them, there's no..." Duke shook his head. "We are them, and they're us, and that's why we do what we do, even if it's not going to stop. We cannot stop and just make these things happen."

He rubbed his chin, thinking.

"To answer your question, how do I do anything. İt's not about hope, really. İt's the satisfaction of knowing that the next time it all falls apart, it won't be today. But it might be tomorrow. So I train, İ patrol and solve cases and catch supercriminals. But I also rest. And talk to friends. Family, as much as I have it nowadays. İt's exactly because the future is so bleak İ do not dwell on it. And it's not even... İt's not a life philosophy or anything. İt's just how I am. And it's okay to feel like you do..."

Duke tried to clap Jason on the shoulder but with their height difference, even sitting together it was awkward.

Jason decided to turn it into teachable moment and scuffled with him. Both of them managed not to fall.

"İ know it's okay," Jason said later. "To feel this way. But I don't know what to do about it."

"Sucks," Duke offered.

And yeah, there wasn't much else to say about Gotham, or Jason's life. He didn't expect Duke to give him an answer. But it was good to be heard.

#jason todd #duke thomas #my fics #в усіх нас іноді у підвалі сидить зрадойоб якого ми пиздимо ногами #(вим��ачте за бскй мем на тумблері)

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cheerycherrycandy-resurrected · 5 months ago

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What You've Done, You Cannot Undo (Medieval AU)

Chapter 9

The journey north begins. They might be out of danger for now, but will things run smoothly?

I finished this chapter on the aeroplane on the way on holiday, and I was itching the whole time to post it once I was back!!

Rating: M Content: Dew has more issues with self-hatred, none of the ghouls know how to communicate effectively Words: 5143

Links to full fic: Tumblr | AO3

Hi tag gang! As always, lmk if you want in or out! @everybodyshusband @rainsbasspick @revengeghoulette

Read below, or on AO3!

Dew awoke to find a water ghoul plastered along his side. Rain was still cold, but his normal cold rather than the dangerously icy temperature he had been the night before. Dew extricated himself from the bear grip Rain had him pinned in, shaking his long limbs off and crawling out from under the blanket. The sun was beginning to creep above the horizon, bathing the land in a pale grey light. He found Swiss sat watching the sunrise, his eyes scanning the horizon periodically. They frequently lingered on the village in the distance, his gaze sad and wistful.

“Morning.” Dew whispered, sitting down next to him and leaning his head on his shoulder in an uncharacteristic show of affection. Swiss had been more withdrawn than usual the previous night, and Dew was worried about him. The naturally more tactile multi ghoul rested his own head on Dew’s and let out tired sigh.

“I was gonna wake you soon for the next watch,” he muttered quietly, “but you looked so comfy over there, I’m glad I didn’t have to.”

Dew growled lightly at the comment, but there was no venom behind it.

“Let Aeth sleep.” He agreed instead. The quintessence ghoul still looked dead to the world, drooling slightly in his sleep but otherwise unmoving.

“How’s Rain doing?” asked Swiss.

“He’s less cold now,” Dew replied, “but I don’t think any amount of sleep will be enough for him for a while.”

He twisted he head to look up at Swiss. There was a haunted look in his eyes, one that Dew recognised all too well.

“You saw him, down in the cells.” Dew stated. Swiss nodded, his stricken face giving away just how much it had affected him. “How are you feeling now?”

Swiss shrugged.

“Not great. Seeing him down there, especially after the guards attacked him…” he trailed off, pulling Dew closer to him and burying his nose in his tangle of platinum hair. “I was so scared.” He whispered into Dew’s hair, as though letting the words be spoken into the air could make them hurt more.

Dew hummed in understanding; the thought of Rain, quiet and sweet young ghoul he was, stuck all alone in the dark cell had haunted him all the time he’d been gone. Dew had endured hardship before, he was no stranger to suffering, but Rain had always seemed less aware of the evils in the world. He must have known pain at some point, Dew reasoned, or he would still be with his birth clan. Much like Dew himself though, Rain had always stayed relatively quiet about what brought him to run away.

“I couldn’t see anything, Dew. It was like someone had covered my eyes, everything after noon yesterday was just black.”

Dew let himself be pulled closer to Swiss, manhandled like a teddy bear – it wouldn’t be the first time that morning he reasoned, and Swiss clearly needed the comfort.

“I went to see him every day,” he shuddered, “I hated it. Even when he seemed to be getting stronger, just seeing him there but not being able to help…”

Swiss trailed off, his breathing shaky. Dew guessed he hadn’t told the others about these feelings – Swiss was never one to burden others, always putting on a brave face, but they wouldn’t have let him shoulder this alone if they had known. Dew was the only one who could begin to understand what he had seen, who could know the feeling of abject hopelessness at seeing Rain trapped by stone walls and iron bars first-hand.

“It’s alright, we’re all alright now.” Dew said, trying to be as soothing as possible and mask his discomfort. He attempted to make a joke, to deflect from their shared emotional vulnerability.

“At least you didn’t take one look at him and run for the hills, eh?”

Swiss chuckled weakly, the sound was wet and choked, and rang hollow in Dew’s ears.

“When they attacked him, it felt like was like I was the one being struck instead. After days of feeling nothing, it hurt so much.” A shiver of pain lanced through his body, making him twitch violently and squeeze Dew almost uncomfortable tight. “I was so worried we’d lost him.”

Neither of them liked to add that they were worried they still had: despite Rain being slightly more responsive by the time they went to bed and showing signs that he recognised them, he still had yet to speak a word.

“He’s a tough kid,” Dew admitted, “Satan knows I gave him enough trouble before all of this.”

“Marriage turned you soft already?” Swiss joked, mask slipping effortlessly back in place.

“Something like that.”

The pair sat in comfortable silence a little longer. Swiss might have been free with his affections, reflected Dew as he remained encircled in his strong arms, but he was more like him with his vulnerabilities.

“I can see why you left like you did.” Swiss said finally. “If I’d had any idea how to get Rain out, I’d have flown there as soon as possible too, explanations be damned.”

“It was never guaranteed,” Dew pointed out, “just in the moment it seemed like asking for help was the only idea, and there was no time to explain.”

“We’d never have let you go.” Swiss told him bluntly. “We’d have insisted we could get Rain out ourselves, and neither of us need my foresight to know how that would have turned out.”

Dew nodded grimly.

Around them, the birds began to wake up and sing their dawn chorus. On cue, Swiss yawned widely, his jaw audibly popping.

“You should get a bit more sleep,” suggested Dew with a sigh of his own, “we’ve got a long trip coming up. I promise I won’t leave again, you can trust me despite what Mountain seems to think.”

“I know.” Swiss said simply as he stood up and stretched out his legs. “Don’t take his words to heart, okay? He’s just a bit frustrated that he couldn’t take care of Rain alone.”

“You think?”

“Yeah, you know how he is, always thinking he’s the pack leader as the oldest and strongest.” Swiss’s tone implied that he did not fully agree but would happily humour his ego, if asked. “Mount knows what you did was best for the pack, just give him some time to sort out his bruised pride.”

Dew shrugged, but dropped the subject.

Soon after Swiss had wriggled back under his blanket, Dew could hear his light snores drifting towards him. He sat for a few hours more, loath to wake his exhausted pack. With the early sunrise of long summer days, they could rest a while longer before they would risk bumping into anyone from the village on the road.

As the sky grew lighter, he sat and contemplated how his life had changed over the last few days. He was married now for starters. Even though he didn’t believe in any of the humans’ customs, let alone in their God, he still believed in the sanctity of a promise made in front of his pack. He’d sworn in front of all of them that he would protect Rain, so protect Rain he must. For now, that meant taking him to the Abbey and it host of experienced quintessence ghouls, but damn, that journey was going to be frustrating. Dragging his pack of exhausted ghouls who were all prone to bickering northward was going to fray some nerves.

Part of him was anxious about their destination, too. Not only for their reaction to the Abbey and its inhabitants, he realised, but for the ghoulettes’ reaction to his pack. He wanted them to think he had made a good choice with his life, to be proud of him. Dew supposed this was what it felt like bringing home a potential mate to meet your family: the potential of acceptance, of joyfully blending families, but mixed with the fear of disapproval and rejection. He wouldn’t know anything of that relationship dynamic; his mother had made it quite clear to him how hated his father had been by everyone except for her. Instead of bringing home a mate however, Dew was bringing a brand new husband and three additional ghouls who were varying degrees of excited for the meeting themselves. He hoped they would make a good impression.

His thoughts drifted to Rain; to the catalyst of this whole situation. Rain had been the baby of the pack ever since he arrived, even though he was only slightly younger than Dew himself. The difference between them lay in how Dew prided himself in acting more world-wise than he really was, whereas Rain always seemed to be stuck in the past. Maybe neither one of them had the right attitude, reflected Dew. His insistence on self-reliance had led him to bully Rain into taking on tasks he wasn’t capable of, whereas Rain’s dependence on others had made him desperate to prove himself. Providing they got out of this, they’d both have learned a hard lesson.

Who was he kidding, thought Dew. He could try and blame Rain all he wanted, but he felt sure that he should shoulder most of the blame. If only he’d been more supportive when he had the opportunity, they wouldn’t be in this mess!

He felt himself descending into the all-too-familiar spiral of self-loathing. If he weren’t so hateful, he wouldn’t have felt the need to pick on Rain, and if he had been nicer to Rain they wouldn’t be in this situation now. Everything was his fault. He detested the ghoul who walked around in his imperfect skin.

Dew shook his head to dislodge the thoughts and turned to look at his pack: the time for should’ves had long passed, he had a new task ahead of him. Similarly, he couldn’t find it in himself to shift the blame for their situation onto Rain. Even if his inexperience was what pulled the trigger, Dew had loaded the gun. Looking at him now, sleeping peacefully, compared to seeing him in those dingy cells, Dew felt only a rush of protectiveness. Damn those pack instincts were strong.

They were his real purpose now; nothing that came before mattered apart from his pack. He couldn’t undo his actions any more than Rain could have pulled the raindrops back into their clouds, but he could make amends. That meant starting with an apology, and Dew was never very good at those. Staring back towards the village on the horizon, Dew contemplated what to say.

Eventually, the ghouls began to rise. By the time they had rubbed bleary eyes and blinked sleep away there was some activity in the distance, people scurrying around as tiny as ants. They would have to be careful to give the village a wide berth when they left.

“Wha- why didn’t you wake me for a watch?” yawned Aether, the last to wake.

Dew, Swiss and Mountain all levelled him with identical glares.

“What?”

“Aeth, you were exhausted,” Swiss sighed, “you used all your energy on Rain yesterday, you needed the sleep the most.”

Aether didn’t dare argue further.

After a slow start, all five ghouls and one horse had finally eaten and were all packed up ready to leave. They loaded Rain onto the mare, and some of their belongings into her saddlebags and set off. Cautiously, they skirted around the village, keeping several miles between them. Even with the distance, Swiss and Mountain kept a vigilant lookout as they hurried along the small back roads. They would need to stop to hunt and forage at some point, but that could wait until they were on neutral ground. They cautiously navigated their way forwards, taking a large detour to avoid all the small farms and dwellings that surrounded the town. They were especially careful to avoid the stables near the main road north: the townsfolk may not have recognised the horse from a distance, but up close her owners were sure to.

Only once the sun had reached its peak and begun its slow descent back towards the horizon, did they feel safe enough to pause for breath. The atmosphere as they walked had been somber, cut through in brief moments by flashes of tension during their escape. Rain still hadn’t spoken a word, although he seemed more lucid after his warm night's sleep. Ahead of them they could hear the gentle rushing of the river, the sound guiding them back towards the main path north. They kept walking until they reached its shores, the temptation of a cold drink pulling them onwards.

From here, the road forward was clear. Leading off the path was a small slope down towards the water, which partially shielded a small grassy patch from the view of any passing traveller. They picked their way down the gentle incline, collapsing to the soft undergrowth at the bottom.

“Well, that’s the hard part done.” Said Aether, as he helped Rain down from the saddle. He guided the water ghoul to sit on a rock next to the water, and scooped up some water in a small wooden bowl for him.

“Small sips, remember?”

Rain drained the bowl in one gulp and held it out for more.

“Be careful,” murmured Aether, “you’ll hurt your stomach.”

Rain ignored him in favour of unglamouring his tail and gently swishing it through the water beside him.

Aether watched, nodding in approval. The further they got from the village, the more alert Rain seemed. He’d been relieved so see Rain looking relatively human yesterday, no horns or tail in sight, the slight blue pallor to his skin easily explainable by his underground imprisonment. The first thing any young ghoul born topside learned about their magic was how to hide it. Rain had always struggled with that, reflected Aether, but then he had struggled with all aspects of his magic. Maybe some combination of the strengthening tinctures and herbs Swiss had brought to him, and whatever mysteriously unlocked his water connection so violently had helped him finally get it under control.

“We should forage a bit, whilst we're stopped here.” Mountain's low voice shook Aether from his thoughts, as he appeared beside him to collect water from his cupped hands, drinking it and splashing his face. His thick auburn hair was tied back with twine, but beneath it he was still sweating in the heat. “I think I saw some of the herbs you need for Rain's poultice back by the road.” Aether dipped his head in agreement and quickly drunk from the river himself.

“Are you good with Swiss and Dew for a bit, Rain?” he asked, passing another, smaller, bowl of water up to him. Rain nodded, content to continue basking in his element for as long as he could.

Swiss looked up from where he and Dew were sprawled on their backs on the warm grass, heads resting on their packs.

“We’ve got him Aeth, don’t worry.”

Looking like he would continue worrying regardless, Aether sorted through his knapsack taking out all but what he needed. Once Mountain had done the same, the pair headed back up the slope to the path and the wooded area beyond.

Their feet recovered temporarily, Dew and Swiss also migrated to Rain’s spot by the river to get a drink. He sat there, tail stirring the water as he watched the fish swim past. The longing to join them in his eyes was unmissable.

“You wanna paddle?” Dew asked him, thinking the cold water looked pretty refreshing himself. Rain nodded enthusiastically, so Dew helped him roll his borrowed trousers up before doing the same with his own. Carefully, he and Swiss balanced Rain as they waded out into the river. As they got deeper in, the water lapping at their knees, Rain seemed to gain in strength.

“Don’t get your clothes wet,” warned Swiss, “you’ll catch a chill, even in this weather.”

Rain acted like he hadn’t heard him, suddenly dropping into a crouch in the moving water and pulling the other two ghouls down with him. He grinned wickedly at their shouts and shrieks from the chilly shock of the water, before pausing and lunging towards a trout as it swam past his ankles. All three of them were completely soaked.

“I thought you were meant to be at death’s door!” spluttered Dew, pushing sodden blond hair out of his face and plucking at the uncomfortably wet clothes now clinging to his body. Rain snickered at them, and despite their protests, both Dew and Swiss were relieved to see him getting some life back. The water ghoul held the fish out towards Dew with a polite and slightly apologetic head-tilt, and Dew found himself unable to supress a smile.

“F-for you?” Rain spoke with a halting stutter, the first any of them had heard from him in over a week.

"Oh, you have it." Dew laughed, delighted at his progress out of his silent and withdrawn state. Rain licked his lips gleefully, before sinking his fangs deep into the still-wriggling fish. Dew sighed internally at the huge mess he was making; this was going to be his fault, somehow, wasn't it?

Once Rain had polished off the unlucky trout, making a tremendous mess of himself and his clothes in the process, Dew and Swiss tried their best to clean him off in the river still rushing around them.

“Right, let’s dry you off,” announced Swiss, “Mount and Aeth will decide we’re dinner if they see we let you get all wet!”

Ignoring his whine of protest, Swiss scooped up the squirming water ghoul and carried him back to dry land. In his weakened state there was no chance for him to fight back, but that didn’t stop him pouting petulantly the whole time. Dew plopped down between the two and heated his skin up like a space heater, the steam soon rising from his wet clothes and skin and beginning to dry the others.

“Thank you, Dew.” Whispered Rain, so quiet Dew almost missed it, but with a conviction that made the words reverberate around his skull like prayers in a cathedral.

The sun beat down on them from above and, led on the soft grass in the peaceful sunshine, the three ghouls could almost forget the problems they faced.

A while later, Mountain and Aether returned with a few bundles of herbs and some berries they found on their way back.

“Why are you all wet?” exclaimed Aether.

“You should be more careful, he'll get sick,” Mountain reprimanded them, “what were you thinking?”

Swiss rolled his eyes, ignoring the dig at them.

“Relax, he'll be fine. It was Rain's idea anyway!”

Dew however, took the criticism to heart: he'd failed his packmate again. Sure, it might have been Rain's idea, but he should have stepped in and stopped him; he should have been more responsible.

It soured his mood for the rest of the day. Mountain caught them a few more fish using a line and earthworms as bait, and after gutting and cleaning them, they packed up their haul to continue moving while it was still light. Several hours later, the sun was kissing its final farewell to the horizon, the sky fading through a kaleidoscope of colours. Rain hadn't spoken another word since earlier, and Dew began to think he had imagined it. They went to bed in silence, not even making eye contact as they settled on opposite sides of the bedroll.

Dew lay awake in the darkness, thinking to himself. He needed to apologise to Rain, that was clear. He'd missed his chance earlier, too caught up in the light-hearted mood to ruin it with a serious talk. The rest of his pack clearly thought he was to blame; Rain must do too.

Eventually, Dew must have fallen asleep because the next thing he knew he was being shaken awake by Aether for his turn at a watch. Rain had again migrated to the centre of the bedroll, his gangly limbs taking up the limited space and claiming Dew's warmth for themselves. He sat sullenly at the edge of their camp, stewing in his thoughts until morning.

Throughout their second day on the road, the weather broke. The glorious sunshine vanished, giving way to never-ending clouds and cold, drizzling rain. This seemed to be helping a certain water ghoul, tipping his head back to catch droplets of his namesake on his tongue. Rain's strength was coming back in leaps and bounds, he'd finally attempted to speak again, holding a quiet and stuttered conversation with Swiss and Aether from his perch on the mare's back. The pair seemed to be trying their hardest to keep him entertained, Swiss leading a continuous stream of small talk to distract Rain from thinking about his recent ordeal.

Dew, however, was not doing so well. He was cold, his feet were wet, and he had exhausted himself early on trying to keep them dry with magic. He trudged behind the others, dragging his feet forward and moping to himself. After their conversation the previous morning, he had hoped that Swiss would see how much he needed support too, and maybe turn to Dew for support of his own. That didn't seem to be the case at all however: Swiss had his cheerful mask fixed firmly back in place and was laying one hundred percent of his attention on Rain.

Dew had wanted to have a word with Rain today, now he was able to speak again. The guilt that had wracked his mind last night had only intensified while he slept, and he knew there was only one realistic way to settle things. Getting Rain alone had proved almost impossible however: aside from the fact that his two companions never left his side, Rain himself seemed distant. Dew could understand – he would be distant with him too, were their roles reversed.

Mountain was clearly still upset as well, not speaking to Dew unless he couldn't avoid it. He was less bothered by the rain than Dew and was ploughing of ahead of the pack. Dew remembered what Swiss had said, and knew he was likely just stressed, trying to cope with the situation in his own way. He was worrying about where and when to make camp, where to find food, and trying to be the best provider for his pack as possible having felt like he failed to protect Rain before. As Dew trailed along behind his packmates, he thought bitterly that if Mountain paused for a second and thought, he could realise that Dew had made this journey twice over the last week, and remembered most of the locations he had camped in. Rather than offer his advice though, Dew stayed quiet: his input wouldn't be appreciated, so why bother? The rain became heavier as they exited from under a canopy of trees, and Dew resigned himself to several more hours of misery.

From atop the horse, Rain was enjoying the gentle drizzle. They'd been slowly moving forward all day, the monotony of the journey only broken up by Swiss leaping between conversation topics. Rain was grateful for the distraction. His mind still felt fuzzy, like it was lagging several metres behind him and walking alongside Dewdrop. Huh, though Rain to himself. He had seen a new side to Dew yesterday when he helped him wade around in the river: a more caring ghoul who didn't snap at him for wanting to indulge in childish things like paddling on a hot day. Everything had felt like it might be okay in that moment – the cool water and gentle support of his packmates had cleared the cobwebs that shrouded his brain away, and he'd finally managed to form words. This Dewdrop was an entirely different ghoul from the one who found any excuse to gripe at him: this Dew could be expected to pull off a risky stunt to save him from the hangman's noose; would let him cuddle up close at night for warmth.

Now though, that Dew had disappeared. He was back to his familiar and grouchy self, dragging his feet as he brought up the rear. Rain wasn't sure what he'd done wrong, if anything. As he dried off yesterday, the clouds had descended around him again and he had not been able to pay attention to his packmate's interactions, even if he had wanted to. They were only starting to lift now with the tiny sharp shocks of individual raindrops striking his exposed skin, making him alert enough to hear Swiss recounting the time he'd met a dog he thought was half ghoul, but wasn't. Rain appreciated him trying but really, he could have done with some silence in this precious moment of mental clarity. Still, he sensed Swiss was chattering about similarly banal topics more for his own benefit than anyone else's, so he helped him keep the conversation going, replying when he could and enjoying the encouraging smiles it would pull from the multi ghoul.

Rain wondered if he should try to speak to Dew. They would need to have a conversation about what had unfolded in the square at some point, that was clear. However, Dew didn’t seem in the mood for an emotionally vulnerable talk – if anything he seemed to want to be left alone, staying far away from the others. Whenever Rain sensed a chance to catch Dew by himself, the stony frown on his face made him anxious that it would make things between them worse, and all ability to form coherent thoughts vanished as swiftly as he had recovered it.

That night, Dew griped and grumbled all the while as they prepared for bed. Rain had thought he would be pleased: Mountain had declared that they were far enough away from people who would do them harm as to not need a watch anymore. His and Aether’s old senses from their travelling days had come right back to them, and they were convinced they would wake at anything suspicious. Combined with Dew’s fire, Mountain’s protective wards, and their location off the path, they had decided it was safe enough for them all to all get a full night’s sleep.

Now that they had stopped moving, Rain was beginning to get cold in the damp evening air. His affinity with his element only went so far, especially given that he already ran cold and was still severely malnourished. He shivered as he tried to settle on his side of the bedroll, keeping his distance from a frosty Dewdrop. He desperately wanted to shuffle closer to him, to hold the smaller ghoul tightly and absorb every scrap of warmth he radiated. However, stronger than the heat was the anger emanating from him, so Rain kept a cautious distance.

He curled into himself, his back to Dew who was mirroring his position and almost off the edge of the heavy canvas. Rain tried to suppress his frozen trembling long past the time the others had fallen asleep. Dew was still awake however; Rain could hear his breathing. With the clearest head he had had since his actions of the week prior, the enormity of his situation suddenly hit him and his shivering turning into the shaking of silent sobs.

Rain had been trying to put on a brave face since his rescue, not wanting to seem ungrateful in any way when he knew he owed his pack – especially Dew – his life. However, he had barely started processing what had happened, how close he had come to dying, how his actions had killed people. How Dew, the one ghoul who had never warmed to him, had saved his life. How they were married now? It all seemed like a crazy dream, like the ones he had experienced as a kit after eating a pretty, red-spotted frog he had found in the marsh.

Now though, the same ghoul who had apparently cared for him enough to agree to marry him hadn’t spoken to him since the river yesterday. Rain took a shuddering breath, trying to get his tears under control. What was his life coming to? Now, to top it all off, he and his pack were moving across the country to a place he had never heard of before, with none of his own belongings, and wearing a spare set of Swiss’s clothes. All because he couldn’t control his emotions, like he was failing at doing now, and let himself be goaded into attempting something he wasn’t ready for.

He hadn’t attempted any water magic since they left. He certainly hadn’t tried tapping into that alien electrical buzz either; he didn’t even know if he would still be able to now that he was out of direct danger. So much for practicing his skills. Maybe Dew was right, he really was a failure. He would have been better off sticking to his own slow pace, even if that meant being called the pack burden by Dew. His crying intensified, knowing what his mistake had done to his pack and their stable, happy life.

Dew rolled over to face him, a thunderous expression on his face.

“Can you shut up?” He snapped. “Go to sleep. It’s your fault we’re in this situation in the first place!”

Hearing his own worst thoughts out loud only made Rain sob harder. He tried to muffle his cries in the blanket: the last thing he needed now was for Dew to call him weak again or, Hell forbid, disrupt the others’ sleep to make them comfort him.

Rain drew in a shaky breath, and hissed back at Dew,

“No one asked you to rescue me. I don’t know why you bothered, since you clearly hate me so much!”

Dew seemed stunned into silence by Rain’s sudden acquisition of a backbone. He flopped back onto his side to glare into the darkness away from Rain, and pulled the blanket up to his chin.

“If you hadn’t stupidly tried to prove yourself with something you knew you couldn’t handle, we would be in this mess.” He growled.

“Well if you didn’t spend every waking minute making me feel like I needed to prove myself, we wouldn’t be here either!” Rain shot back.

The air crackled with tension and the echoes of both of their deepest insecurities spoken aloud. The pair lay there, stewing in anger. Dew’s thoughts of apologising went out the window – Rain clearly wasn’t in a forgiving mood, what good would it do now?

They eventually fell asleep when their exhaustion won out, as separated as the narrow bedroll would allow them to be. When they woke, they were still on their opposite sides, the space between them cold for the first time since their journey began.

#what you've done you cannot undo #dewdrop ghoul #rain ghoul #trans dewdrop #raindrop #swiss ghoul #mountain ghoul #aether ghoul #the band ghost #nameless ghouls #foot of the gallows marriage #medieval au #historical au #enemies to lovers #only one bed #ghost #ghost bc #ghost fanfiction #em writes

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ahonice · 1 year ago

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Thunder

Thunder - Lana Del Rey

Trevor Zegras x Fem Reader

Word Count: 2.3k

Warnings: !!!This is a work of fiction, real people in this story are depicted differently then who they truly are!!! Buckle up this one is rough (imo…read note for more context) ANGST, Trevor being a bad boyfriend (I’m sorry, I spun the wheel and he was who it landed on for writing this about like actually I have a wheel to decide who I write about) reader is going through it and cannot catch a break (who can though??) Cursing, drinking (underage, blacking out, drunken confessions)

Note: This is my favorite Lana song ever, it’s so good (also describes my relationship with my ex PERFECTLY) um so this fic is literally just a telling of my past relationship in fiction form. But new series WHOOP WHOOP more Lana song fics coming soon

*Italics are song lyrics*

***

“You roll like thunder, when you come crashing in. Town ain’t been the same since you left with all your friends.”

Trevor Zegras, your alluring, passionate, loving best friend. Trevor Zegras, your manipulative, callous, apathetic boyfriend.

You met Trevor when he moved to Michigan for hockey, he was sitting in your unassigned, but assigned, seat in your study hall period. You told him, as nice as someone could be at seven in the morning on the first day of classes after break, that he was in your spot and he immediately got up and moved to the spot behind you. Which surprised you, most people would be assholes about that and refuse to move because there wasn’t assigned seating in that class. What didn’t surprise you was that the guy you had moved out of your seat was now bothering you.

“Would you stop talking? This is a study hall, people might be doing work or studying, that’s what this period is for.” You told him, not very quietly making others in the classroom turn towards you. After he kept talking to you, well to the back of your head, about how god knows what.

“Sorry, it’s just my first day here and I’m a little nervous.” The boy said, ducking his head in shame, immediately making you feel guilty.

“Oh no I’m sorry, I didn’t know you were new here.” You said, a light blush spreading across your cheeks. “Do you want help figuring out where your classes are?” You offered in hopes to make up for embarrassing him.

“Sure, that would be great” He smiled at you, “I’m Trevor.”

“Y/n.”

***

The two of you hit it off, instantly becoming friends. You drove to school together, you hung out during your study hall period every morning, you sat together at lunch, you both had after school activities but afterwards you would meet up to work on homework or just hang out together. After a few months Trevor had asked you to be his girlfriend, and everything was going great, until it wasn’t.

Trevor was a year above you in school, having met when he was a junior and you were a sophomore. The gap never was an issue until the last month of his senior year came crashing in, he was moving to Massachusetts for college in August and you were staying in Michigan to finish off your senior year. The talk went well, you were worried that Trevor would want to break up because he was leaving and didn’t want to do long distance, but Trevor made it very clear that was not what he wanted and he was fine with doing distance for a year because he was sure you were going to get into any school you applied to and that meant you could go to school wherever he ended up after the draft. You were happy in the moment, but you later wished he would’ve just ended things with you then.

“You roll like thunder, when you come crashing in. Regattas in the wind, that's why you’re visiting.”

The first month of long distance seemed to be going great, over the summer you accompanied him to the draft where he got picked to play for Anaheim. Immediately after the two of you spent time researching schools in California, Trevor freaking out once he realized UCLA was under an hour away from the area where he would be staying.

The second month of long distance went decent, his hockey season began so he was a bit preoccupied, but that was nothing you weren’t used to he had been playing hockey the whole time you were dating. What you weren’t used to was not being in close proximity with him, even with hockey seasons going on the past two years you still were able to see him after his practices got out, now you had to settle for text messages and the occasional phone call.

The third month of long distance is when it all started going to shit, he had a game against the University of Michigan, which you had attended of course, but there was a weird tension between the two of you. There was no flirting, no secret glances which ended in a fit of giggles once you were caught, no sneaking out of his hotel room to meet up with you, he didn’t even take you out to hangout just you two, he kissed you twice the whole time he was there. When he arrived and when he left, they weren’t even real kisses, just grazing of the lips. After he got back to Boston it was radio silence except for one text message.

From: Trev <3

It was nice to see you this weekend.

It was nice to see you this weekend. No I missed you so much, and I miss you even more now that we’re apart again. No I love you, no plans to visit or even call soon, nothing.

“You act like fucking Mr.Brightside when you’re with all your friends, but I know what you’re like when the party ends.”

By the fourth month of long distance your relationship was no longer a relationship, you texted a couple times a day, basically all being stupid imessage games, the only time you got anything close to a real emotion from Trevor was when he was drunk and he called you, he always called when he was inebriated, but you never liked what he said.

“I miss you, but I can’t do long distance anymore.”

“We aren’t the same anymore.”

“Next year when we’re in California I’m worried things will be different between us.”

“I don’t think I love you anymore.”

Each confession was worse than the one before, you’d always end the phone call telling Trevor to call in the morning to properly discuss your future together when he was sober, but he never did and he never remembered the conversations you’d had, leaving you to deal with the drunken confessions yourself, having to stomach knowing that your boyfriend who you love so much no longer feels the same and he won’t even admit it to you.

“Just do it. Just do it; don’t wait.”

Everyday you waited for the text, the one where Trevor asked to talk to you. The one that would result in the ending of your relationship, but it never came. It got to the point where you wanted to do it for him, to rip off the bandaid he couldn’t. You knew you would never though, because even if he didn’t love you anymore, you still loved him, and at the end of this all you hoped next year, when you were living near each other again, everything would go back to normal between you two. You wish you weren’t so naive when it came to him, you knew you needed to break up, if not for his sake, for yours. It was taking a toll on you, on your mental health, on your school work, you ended up with a C in one of your classes at the end of your first semester of senior year, you had never gotten anything but an A, let alone a C.

“You roll like thunder, pouring all your drinks. The parties lit and you, my friend, half cut when it begins.”

The drunken confessions didn’t stop, they only got worse.

“I never opened the gift you got me for Christmas.”

“I hooked up with a girl last night.”

“When people ask if I’m single I say I am.”

“I’m doing amazing down here, without you.”

“When are we gonna break up?”

Each new confession was another knife to the heart, but you just sat there on the other side of the line listening to each new piece of information your boyfriend, if you could even call him that, would give you.

“You roll like thunder, you’re tryna catch that wind. That lightning in the bottle, that moonbeam in your hand.”

Senior prom came around, you weren’t surprised when Trevor told you he wasn’t coming. You didn’t blame him, even if your relationship wasn’t a shit show and he still cared about you in the slightest bit he had hockey stuff going on that night, and besides who wants to go to a high school dance after they’ve graduated?

What did surprise you was the phone call you received after you sent him a picture of you all dressed up, hair and makeup professionally done, the dress you saved up for months to buy.

“Hello?” This would be the first time the two of you would talk on the phone since November where Trevor wasn’t drunk.

“You look beautiful.” Whiplash rang through your body, Trevor had complimented you. He hadn’t done that in months, the smile that had grown on your face quickly dimmed when you came to that realization.

“Trevor, why haven’t you broken up with me yet?” The question coming out of your mouth surprised you. You never thought you would be brave enough to face the reality of your relationship.

“Y/n, what are you talking about?” Trevor’s shocked tone of voice riled up your anger. Had he really not been able to pick up on the very obvious changes between the two of you? Was he that apathetic? Could he not tell how much of a toll this was taking on you? Was he even aware of how much you were hurting everyday just by the thought of him.

“We’ll talk later, please don’t drink tonight. I need to have this conversation with my boyfriend–” The words hurt to say, because he wasn’t your boyfriend and he hadn’t been since August, “-not with the drunk asshole he has become.” You hung up before he could say anything in response.

“And you try to see the brightside when each new day begins, but you’re not satisfied at the rainbow’s end.”

To your surprise, Trevor did end up staying sober that night, he waited by the phone for your call for hours, a nice analogy to how you’ve been spending your Saturday nights since you went long distance. You had gone to an after prom party with your friends and had a little too much to drink. You called Trevor, and this time you spoke the drunken confessions that would break your lover’s heart.

“You break me more and more everyday Trevor.”

“You cheated on me, and told me about it like it was no big deal. Do you remember that?”

“Do you remember when you told me you didn’t love me anymore?”

“I got into UCLA, I’m not going. I’m not following you to California.”

“Somehow, after all of this, I still love you.”

“You have to be the one to end our relationship, because I can’t do it.”

You hung up before Trevor could get a word in, hoping that he would take what you said to heart and finally, officially, break up with you.

“Just do it. Just do it; don’t wait.”

Trevor didn’t do it. He didn’t break up with you, he told you the next day he was determined to make it work. That he wasn’t giving up without a fight, which made you laugh seeing that he had given up and your relationship ended months ago.

The day of your graduation, you walked the stage and heard cheering from your friends and family. You heard him, you shouldn’t have been shocked that Trevor showed up, you had sent him the details to his ticket the night before, but seeing him and hearing him in person for the first time since the game he played against Michigan in November was enough to have you crying. You ran into his arms, he ran into yours. He whispered apologies in your ears, but they went in one and out the other. This was your swan song, the last time you would be his girlfriend, the last time he would be your boyfriend, the last time you would be in each other’s arms, it was bitter sweet.

“Cause if you’re on fire, you’re on fire. Just keep burning, ‘til rain. Baby keep me ablaze. Honey if you’re on fire, you’re on fire. Just keep burning, keep me alive. Spare your blade.”

You stayed together, Trevor started acting like the boyfriend you once knew and loved, still loved. But you knew. You knew it was all an act, in august he was gonna move to California to get settled in before preseason and you were moving to Connecticut. You committed to Yale, not UCLA like Trevor had wanted. When you told him you could tell he was upset, he was hoping you would take back what you said to him the night of your prom, he was hoping that you were too drunk to remember you said it and didn’t mean it. Just like you had hoped all those times when he was the one calling you blackedout.

Anyone around you could tell that your relationship was on its last life, they were shocked you even made it through the school year. You didn’t, but they didn’t need to know that.

It felt like your relationship was the only thing keeping you alive, it was all that kept your flame burning, but all flames die out eventually.

“Just do it. Just do it; don’t wait. If hello just means goodbye then, honey, better walk away. Just do it. Just do it’ don’t wait. If hello just means goodbye then, baby, better walk away.”

Today was your last night with Trevor, you sat by the fire with him in silence until the final flame went out.

“We need to break up.” You stated, the second the two of you were surrounded by the darkness of the night.

“I know.” Trevor stated, looking at you, but he couldn’t see you. You couldn’t see him, you two were in pitch black darkness. The fire was the only thing providing light, but it was now dead. A cruel metaphor for your now dead relationship.

“Just do it. Just do it; don’t wait.”

***

Note: Hope y’all enjoyed, this gets pretty fucking sad. I’m toning it down a bit though just for the sake of my mental health (idk if I can handle reliving this in full honestly…again fuck you chris) Leave feedback, this one might not be everyone’s favorite but I need to write about my feelings because I’m still torn up about this (once again…fuck you chris) (chris is my exes name if you haven’t put that together yet) (I’m gonna stop spilling my guts to strangers on the internet) (goodbye.) This took two hours to write so it might not be my best work, but I proofread (no editing needed kinda worried about that lol) so I hope this at least a little bit decent. Love y’all babes <3

#trevor zegras #trevor zegras imagine #trevor zegras x reader #nhl imagine #anaheim ducks #ahonice writes

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take-a-cchonce · 10 months ago

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Be My Valentine - 9

The Wind, It Held Your Soul

(T) 1.7k

WW2 AU Soldier!Louis Tomlinson x Doctor!Harry Styles (3/3)

Tw death, implied time period accurate homophobia

Harry swallowed, lump in his throat firmly lodged, hands shaking as he glanced down at the little strip of paper.

18 words. They would be emblazoned across his mind forever. 18 words that changed everything. He still remembered the look Gemma had given him as she handed him the paper.

Harry is widowed in a time he cannot even accept it in public.

A/N: A huge thank you to Ash for helping me figure out the ending! And I love you Nashie and Anna for being there when I was having breakdowns over this! And ofc, ty to Akeyla for holding this fest and these amazing prompts just ah!

Title from Louis’ ‘Holding On To Heartache’!

Harry swallowed, lump in his throat firmly lodged, hands shaking as he glanced down at the little strip of paper.

18 words. They would be emblazoned across his mind forever. 18 words that changed everything. He still remembered the look Gemma had given him as she handed him the paper.

He had run from the stables as fast as he could when he’d heard the cook, Mrs O’Leary calling out to him. It had been months since he’d been sent back after a shell landed at the hospital Harry was working in, onfield. He had been waiting so long. He had thought it was a letter- from-

Louis. His Louis.

A sob racked his body as he bent over, paper crumpling as his fist closed down, nails digging into his palm. The pain was the only thing grounding him right now.

He had to give it everything he had to hold back from screaming. He squeezed his eyes shut, pawing at his eyes with his closed fist. Louis won’t like- wouldn’t- Another wave of anger passed through him as he sobbed, not caring if anyone heard him.

His Louis. The telegram wasn’t even sent to him. Of course it wouldn’t. To them they were nothing. To them they didn’t- couldn’t even exist. None of that mattered. None of it mattered. He wouldn’t even get to hold a funeral for him. He couldn’t face the idea of burying an empty coffin, of having to pretend he was just a coworker- a friend. Like he wasn’t there for the only man he’d ever loved.

He had no idea how long he stayed curled up like that, lost in thoughts of LouisLouisLouis. It was the cold that finally forced him to sit up, head freezing from where he had been resting it against the glass.

He couldn’t even face moving away from the bay window, going near the fireplace. That would involve seeing Louis’ sofa.

Harry remembered how he would climb onto him, slotting himself onto the single-seater, legs tangled with his, toasting crumpets by the fire, sipping the tea Harry didn’t even like but had anyway, just to keep Louis company.

This bay window was Louis’ idea. ‘So we can sit together properly’, he used to say with that grin of his, eyes all crinkled up, ‘Without you squashing me,’- Harry ran his hand over the soft leather, smoothened by the years of use. Everything was his, wasn’t it-

He exhaled shudderingly, distantly surprised when he saw it fogging up in front of him.

His face was cold, tear tracks feeling icy on his skin. He eased his grip on the paper, hugging one of the pillows to his chest as he glanced down,

WESTERN UNION

DEEPLY REGRET TO INFORM YOU THAT CAPTAIN LOUIS TOMLINSON IS OFFICIALLY REPORTED AS KILLED IN ACTION JULY NINTH.

Tears welled up, clouding his vision as he clutched the pillow closer, burying his face in it. He cried loudly, beyond caring if anyone heard him, wailing out Louis’ name plaintively.

He breathed deeply when he pulled back, feeling slightly dizzy. He could have sworn he smelled jasmine and cinnamon. Hints of the Brumes perfume Louis liked- had liked- to wear at home.

Sure, it had said pour femme on the little bottle, he thought with a small, sad smile; but Louis never cared. Neither of them did.

He vaguely registered the insistent knocking on the door and curled up with his back to it, holding on to the pillow.

“Harold. Harry, please.” he heard Gemma say, slowly, like she was measuring each word out, but the slight tremor in her voice gave her away “Harry, don’t isolate yourself. I know- I understand you need space. And time. But this isn’t what Louis would have wanted,”

Harry barely registered what her next words were, all coherent thoughts drowned out by the rush of anger he felt.

“Don’t you take his name, not just to console me,” he shouted, stalking across the room and throwing the door open, “Don’t take his name, Gemma. Not when you brought me this godforsaken piece of paper.” He waved the said paper around, tears milling in his eyes despite the anger he felt. He knew his anger at his sister wasn’t justified, but he couldn’t care less.

“Don’t,” he repeated, voice breaking as he collapsed onto the ground, sitting on his haunches with his head in his hands.

“Louis,” he cried, slumping onto the ground, legs a tangle, the carpet cold under him.

He felt Gemma crouch beside him, whispering something that he didn’t quite understand over his own voice, but he stood up when she did, letting himself be led to the sofa by the fireplace.

She didn’t say anything, just gently combed through his hair as he stared at Louis’ sofa.

Louis’ sofa

It hit him at once, and this time he couldn’t even choke out any sounds. Louis’ sofa which wasn’t his anymore. Where he wouldn’t sit anymore.

Harry was grateful for her silence, her company. He wasn’t sure what he would do if he was left alone right now. He couldn’t fathom why he had wanted her to leave. Not her too-

He felt tears silently run down his face, gruelling visions of Louis alone somewhere, over the Channel, lying in a field threatening to swallow him. He tried to push the thoughts away, curling up into his sister, pulling his feet up, and taking shaky breaths to try and calm himself.

They sat there, Harry quietly hiccupping as he felt his tears dry up, only to be replaced by anger. It wasn’t aimed at Gemma this time, though.

“I didn’t even get the telegram,” he said, voice raspy already, “They didn’t even send it to me. My husband is gone, and they couldn’t even send me a fucking telegram,” His voice was rising, and he felt himself shaking with the intensity of all that he felt.

“Harry,” Gemma breathed out, sighing deeply and choosing not to say anymore. Harry needed to get it out of his system.

“They couldn’t because that would mean acknowledging us. They’re too busy pretending we don’t fucking exist and throwing those who protest into jails. I don’t want to erase him, Gem. I don’t want to erase us,” he broke off, closing his eyes as he bent over, forehead resting on his knees as he finally let himself think of Louis, fresh tears streaming down his cheeks.

“I’m not going to pretend,” he said, toying with the congealed dried eggs on his plate, like it was the most natural conversation to have. Like he hadn’t not said a word for two days. “We’ll hold a proper service for him. And I won’t pretend. I won’t talk about how great a person he was, or what a good soldier he was,”

His voice was raspy from disuse, throat raw from all the crying and screaming he’d done, bouncing between mad anger and complete desolation. He took the glass of orange juice Gemma offered with a silent nod.

She had been an angel, a constant presence, never invading his space, giving him the time he needed to process while still being a rock he could anchor to.

He took a small sip, ignoring the tears that were threatening to spill. He would have time for all that later, but he wanted Louis to have a proper send-off, and so would his sisters. And he knew Louis would have done the same, had the tables been turned. Had it been him killed on the Somme.

He quickly brushed the tears away, almost angry at himself.

“It’s okay if there’s another service, an official one, for everyone else. But I won’t attend it,” he said as firmly as he could in his state, “Everyone who knew, who cared about him- about us- we’ll have a separate service.”

That was all he could muster up the strength to say. Gemma stood up, patting his shoulder and kissing his cheek lightly. “He would be proud,” she whispered, “And so am I. I’ll give you some time. Ring for me if you want to talk,”

He pushed the plate away, watching Gemma’s retreating figure silently. He folded his arms and buried his head in them.

He was used to the silence by now.

He closed his eyes as he threw the last handful of dirt, face tilted up as he let the sun warm his face. The tears coursing down his cheeks still stung against the wind, but the golden glow he saw from behind his eyelids made it just a bit more bearable. He wasn’t sure what he would have done if it was grey and rainy.

Sunny days were Louis’ favorite, Harry thought, biting down on his lower lip. He used to love heading off to Kensington, getting some fresh rolls on their way there and having them by the pond. They always had to sit just a bit too far away, and still got suspicious glares from passersby, but Harry wouldn’t have had it any other way.

None of it changed the fact that Louis was gone and Harry doubted if he would ever entirely come to terms with it. With never seeing his eyes crinkle with laughter, or hear him singing his versions of Vera Lynn’s songs. With never waking up to him sipping his awful unsweetened tea next to him, newspaper rustling as he bent down to kiss him. With never seeing him again.

No, he couldn’t think like that. Louis was always the romantic between them, talks of a beautiful after, free from pain and discrimination and everything they hated being brought up whenever they got even vaguely theological, or drunk, or both.

He couldn’t help but chuckle weakly, thinking back to those evenings together.

Some day, he would see Louis again. The jasmine in the air, with not a bloom in sight was a testament to that.

They would never fade away. But for now, the silence would have to do.

A/N: again, I'm so sorry i don't know what possessed me to write this. Don't go and reread the first post. No matter what

Reblogs are always appreciated 💕

#bemyvalentine2024 #bemyvalentineno9 #widowed #larry stylinson #tw death #tw implied homophobia #Harry Styles #Louis Tomlinson #WW2 AU #angst #so much angst #hlcreators #hltracks #hlficlibrary #sorry for the ending #larry fics #larry fanfiction #larry angst #one direction

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cyberrose2001 · 1 year ago

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Here👏🏻me👏🏻out👏🏻

Optima’s x fem Organic alien

Maybe she’s got liquid energon for blood.. small fangs and by average roughly 13 feet tall in her true form.. with slight electromagnetic psychic abilities.. but can’t use them often or for long periods of time, as she’ll pas out from exhaustion. And her species can camouflage into the main Organic Alien of whatever planet they reside in as a means to blend in.

but cannot keep up the form for long either.. she still Looks like herself, just as she would be if she were the native species of the world..

perhaps she gets rescued from being experimented on by a corrupt splinter group of the government, and just ends up Staying with the Atobots..

growing attached to them quite quickly, and even protective.. basically “mother hens” the whole lot of’em.. especially the humans in the team.. what she struggles with tho??

Her clear and obvious growing attraction to the ever serious Prime.. perhaps she questions how the whole team actually feels about her even being there to begin with.. especially with her jumping at every shadow that reminds her of her capture..

comfort, fluff & awkward Aliens feeling the feels.

TFP Optimus x alien!reader

Heya! Thanks for requesting. I had some trouble with this bc it’s a little too specific, but I’ve done a bit of a drabble for you, hope that’s ok. In future, if you’d like a longer scenario, just send in a more generalised ask :)

(and yes I saw your other ask! you can go by 🎃 as anon so I know who you are !)

Warnings: SFW/Fluff, mentions of trauma, non-human reader.

Word count: 372

- It had already taken you some time to get accustomed to Earth’s strange yet fascinatingly beautiful environment, and it had taken you even more time to learn how to blend in with the planet's indigenous population. You thought you were sneaky, blissfully unaware that a sinister organisation known as MECH had been eyeing you off.

- They had been spying on you ever since you landed and had set up a trap for you, a beacon that mimics the exact electromagnetic pulses of your species. And you, of course, being desperate and alone, fall for it.

- Luckily for you, MECH couldn’t contain you for very long, as you sent tidal waves of electricity through their security systems, rendering them useless. You had escaped, thank the deities, but not without severe trauma from ruthless experimentation. Thankfully, you ran into a group of Cybertronians infiltrating the base, investigating the sudden burst of energy.

- You were initially hesitant, receiving strange looks at your ‘not so human features’. At some point, you had revealed your proper form, and these bots instantly took you in as one of their own. You especially loved the humans, enjoying their questions and gleefully answering them. From then on, you had sworn to protect these creatures with your life, despite gaining some trust issues with the rest of their species.

- The kids weren’t the only thing you had become fascinated with. Optimus, the leader of these Autobots you’ve only heard legends of, was as stoic as he is gentle. You fell in love with him and your shared experiences with being a stranger on this alluring planet. And he, too, had begun to share the same enthusiasm for you.

- He’d talk to you about being captured and help you recover from your fears, gently holding you as if he was protecting you.

- If you ever got scared of shadows that reminded you of Silas creeping around every corner, Optimus would remove any light sources to distract you from painful memories. He’d keep you in his lap as well, reading Cybertronian poems for you. He’ll do everything he can to keep you safe until you find a way home, as much as that hurts his spark.

#transformers #transformers prime #tfp optimus #tfp optimus prime #tfp x reader #tfp optimus x reader #tfp optimus prime x reader #non-human reader #sfw #fluff #cyberrosewrites

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marzbix-crystal · 9 months ago

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[Image ID: A coloured digital sketch of 6 gems wearing matching uniforms on a plain background, from left to right we have my OC Tanzanite sitting on the floor pointing to a map in front of them, then we have Goshenite leaning over Tanzanite, standing above is Yellow Diamond smiling with their hands on their hips, next is my OC Citrine who is sitting opposite Tanzanite and pointing to the map, next is Blue Zoisite standing and looking at my OC Blue Diamond, who is stood rubbing the back of their neck with their other hand in their pocket. /End ID]

They are exploring distant lands!! I enjoyed scratching this out, I usually don't do group drawings

The Lunarians have at least one Tower in each region to survey the general area, (one for the islands, two for the mainlands, kind of like botw or totk because I'm?? insane.) Since the Lunarians cannot stay on Earth for long periods of time, the Gems formed an Exploration team to monitor each area every century or so, to see how it changes over time.

Leading the charge is Yellow Diamond (They/Them), although they prefer to let the younger gems figure themselves out and intervene when necessary

Blue Zoisite (They/He), wanting any excuse to get off the Home Island joined the team- he's nimble and highly observant, and can cover a lot of ground on their own

Goshenite (She/They) joined the team for confidence building, she's come real far and is more firm and more decisive. They're also very resourceful

Blue Diamond (They/Them), while similar to Bluzo in age, joined quite late- Y.D brought them on so that they weren't entirely unemployed, and it wasn't hard to persuade them since their close friend was on the team already. Blue doesn't like admitting it out loud, but they really enjoy exploring

Citrine (He/Him) is very much the heart of the team, he absolutely adores adventure. He actually begged Blue Diamond to take him with them multiple times until they finally talked to Y.D about it

Tanzanite (They/Them), while being the youngest of the group, usually leads the team meetings, as they're the best at navigation- I forgot to draw it, but they always have a little bag to bring home souvenirs for their friends back home.

#marzbixcrystalau #marzbixocs #hnk fan ocs #hnk ocs #hnk fanart #land of the lustrous #doodle #sketches #sketch #my art #my ocs #my oc art #hnk bluzo #hnk blue zoisite #hnk yellow #hnk yellow diamond #hnk goshe #hnk goshenite #hnk spoilers

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polutrope · 2 years ago

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Disclaimer: this is meta/analysis. Your headcanons are not and cannot be wrong.

But...

Tolkien never wrote a version of events in which Maglor stays with Elrond. Not literally, anyway.

There is a passage that makes it sound that way, but that reading takes the passage out of context, both within the text in which it appears and within the history of the development of JRRT's legendarium.

Here it is (the previous section is about the Elves [=Eldalië] sailing to Valinor and the Lonely Isle [=Tol Eressëa] after the War of Wrath):

"Yet not all the Eldalië were willing to forsake the Hither Lands where they had long suffered and long dwelt; and some lingered many an age [...] And among these were Maglor, as hath been told; and with him for a while was Elrond Halfelven..."

QS(E) §28, HoMe V

Now I'll explain why "with him" does not literally mean with him, as in hanging out, living together - and that's okay!

This passage is from the Quenta Silmarillion (QS)[1], which appears in Vol. 5 of The History of Middle-earth, The Lost Road. The QS was the culmination of a series of versions (or drafts, but I prefer versions since they're not even all in the same genre) of the stories and legends that would become the 'Silmarillion', starting with The Book of Lost Tales and ending with QS in 1937, when JRRT turned his attentions to writing Lord of the Rings .

It's important to know that at the time of the writing of QS, JRRT's mythic history ended with the defeat of Morgoth in the War of Wrath. He had not written LotR. There was no Second Age, Third Age; there was no War of the Ring[2]. This was it; the legends ended with the overthrow of Morgoth.

So when it says Maglor and Elrond 'lingered', they were lingering in a period of mytho-history that was not detailed in anything that JRRT had written at the time. The narrative purpose of Elrond (and Elros) staying in the Hither Lands is to transmit to Mankind the "blood of the Firstborn and the seed divine" (i.e., from Melian). In the QS, that's all we get about the after-history of Elrond.

We do, however, learn something about the after-history of Maglor in QS, as signalled by the phrase "as hath been told". Three sections before the above, there's this passage:

And it is told of Maglor that he could not endure the pain with which the Silmaril tormented him; and he cast it at last into the sea, and thereafter he wandered ever upon the shores singing in pain and regret beside the waves. For Maglor was mightiest of the singers of old, but he came never back among the people of the Elves.

QS(E) §25, HoMe V

So going into passage 1, the reader of QS already knows two things: Maglor wandered ever upon the shores, and he came never back among the Elves.[3]

Now, even if one wants to quibble and say Elrond was Halfelven and therefore Maglor never coming back among the Elves does not preclude him being with Elrond... I think that misses the point. We don't know what Elrond did in the Hither Lands, but there is no logical reason to think it was wandering the shores with Maglor.

Seriously. It just doesn't fit. (I could pile up a bunch of other quotes concerning Maglor's fate from other versions to hammer my point home, but this is so long already.)

Maglor stayed in the Hither Lands - on his own, wandering the shores. He effectively disappeared from history, same as in the published Silm. Elrond also stayed in the Hither Lands - doing something else.

So what does "with him" mean? Think of it this way: a bunch of Elves stayed behind at the end of the War of Wrath. Among them was Maglor, "as hath been told". Also among them (= "with him") was Elrond, and his brother Elros. They're on the same land mass. That's it.

If one wanted, I am sure there's a way to construct an argument saying that JRRT literally meant Maglor and Elrond were together after the War of Wrath... I just feel, when it comes to interpretation, the simplest answer is usually the best one, right?

[ETA Mar 5, 2023: the above statement comes from an analytical perspective where I do think it's valid to say one conclusion is stronger than another, though never in an absolute, end-of-discussion way. A very solid (imo) alternate way of approaching and interpreting the text was offered in the discussion linked at the end.]

You don't need JRRT's backing to write fic and come up with headcanons. I'm not trying to take those away from you. I am providing actual sources, because citing matters.

And, in my opinion anyway, it's interesting stuff.

Footnotes

[1] Technically, these passages are from another manuscript, which Christopher Tolkien calls QS(E). The QS manuscript ends midway through the story of Túrin Turambar. QS(E) narrates the conclusion of the Silmarillion from the arrival of Eärendil in Valinor to the overthrow of Morgoth and a prophecy about the Last Battle and the remaking of the world. Although it's a different manuscript, C. Tolkien concludes that QS(E) should be dated to the same period as QS and both texts are presented together in The Lost Road.

[2] The Hobbit, published in 1937, refers to elements of the Silmarillion mythology and even has Elrond as a character, but these were 'borrowings'. The first edition of The Hobbit was not properly integrated into his Middle-earth legends; that only happened after the publication of LotR.

[3] If the passage sounds familiar it's because Christopher Tolkien used this text, with minor changes, for the published Silmarillion. (I made another post about Maglor being the "mightiest singer" here rather than second best to Daeron - an editorial change that I think was unnecessary... and why I usually don't write them as rivals, unless it's funny. Always sacrifice canon for the bit.)

Yes, this is a response to a particular post, but this isn't about dragging the op or throwing shade at any one who likes those ideas.

[Edited Mar 5 2023: Here is a link to a discussion I had with the OP of that post and some others. It's a good discussion with some good points.]

I just really, really care about citing. For more than academic reasons. Maybe I'll be accused of taking this too seriously - would not be the first time I've been accused of that in my life. But knowing where information comes from is so important. Please let's not forget that, in fandom or elsewhere.

Ironically, I made a post early in my Tumblr days somewhat facetiously suggesting that this passage means Maglor literally stays with Elrond... I didn't think people would actually believe it meant that. But it's out there now, if you happen to see it... I know, and oops.)

#maglor #elrond #meta #silm meta #tolkien meta #history of middle earth

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weaveroffates · 6 months ago

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Niamh

Harper (Animulus) Niamh --> Trafalgar Niamh

Race: Selkie.

Age: 27 (post-timeskip.)

5'6"

Dark brown, almost black hair. Pale green eyes/Sea Glass Green. Pale skin, covered in freckles.

Seamstress/Quartermaster of the Heart Pirates.

~♡~ Backstory Notes. ~♡~

Harp Seal.

Her Father was a selkie who fell in love willingly with a human woman who loved him back and started a family.

Niamh had three older brothers. Mervyn, who was seven years older than her and was also a selkie. Murphy & Maccon who were two years older than her but didn't get the selkie genes(?)

Mother was an ambassador for her home island after retiring from her life of masked adventuring.

An event( ?) Happens that kills her father and separates her from her mother and her brother Maccon when she is around 10 years old.

Mervyn, Murphy, and Niamh were taken. when the trio tried to escape later. Murphy was killed and Niamh sustained injuries, got an infection, and eventually lost most of her hearing.

Mervyn dragged his sister to the nearest island and thought he had hid her well enough so he could try and get medical supplies from some locals.

But it wasn't enough as she was found by an elderly widow who thought Niamh was a "gift from the sea." Who proceeds to take her seal coat and hides it to keep her. Mervyn is unable to find it and pivots to help her adapt. Sign language, which many on the small remote island didn't know.

Hearing aids are a hard to get item? At least how far north she lived. Very expensive?

Mervyn went to a life of crime to try to afford one hearing aid. Later when she gets a replacement, Niamh keeps this one for sentimental reasons.

Mervyn also, sadly dies soon after he gets it for her. [Sickness/seal coat destroyed?]

She lives on the island until she is about 17-18 years old. Continues to look for her coat, but when a coat is buried the selkie owner of the coat cannot sense it.

Finds out she's been betrothed to the son of the light keeper, her searching becomes frantic.

The Heart Pirates arrive on the island within the first year of their travels (Law being about 17 years old when they meet.)

They help get her coat back and she asks to join them since she had no other place to go. (Law hands her back her coat.)

Dream was to travel and see the rest of the world? Wants to see fabrics and patterns from all over.

Also the Polar Tang had four teenage boys, the horrors. (Probably better than I've experienced tbh.)

Becomes the Quartermaster. [I kinda mixed the army definition with the pirate one.]

In land armies, a quartermaster is an officer who supervises logistics and requisitions, manages stores or barracks, and distributes supplies and provisions.

The quartermaster ranked higher than any other officer aboard the ship except the captain himself, and could veto the captain's decisions whenever the ship was not chasing a prize or engaged in battle. The quartermaster also was chiefly responsible for discipline, assessing punishments for crewmen who transgressed the articles. Taken from the Wikipedia Article for Quartermaster.

She mainly tells Law to take a nap and takes away his coffee when she does veto something.

Makes the crews custom jumpsuits, fixes clothing, and embroiders the jolly Rodgers on them. Also embroiders their names into their clothes.

Whenever someone has joined the crew to stay, she makes them a unique quilt for their bunks.

Made most of Law's clothes, curses the feathers. The animal prints are her fault, she likes them

Sealskin worn like a poncho/cloak.

Her bounty poster names her "Scary Neeve" As they misheard her/mistook her saying the town she joined the Heart Pirates as her name.

Due to the nature of have the aids and them acting more of an amplifier Niamh has to take breaks from them as they give her migranes since everything is loud.

sometimes will trade off which ear she will hear out of when needing to wear them for long periods of time.

gets vertigo easily, takes medicine for this but sometimes it's just best to rest. Rest sometimes is just sitting and crocheting.

Has balance issues before it gets real bad, Law and crew tend to watch for this.

Also gets sick if she's too far away from the sea, Zou is torture.

Her sign language is a dialect from the North-Blue.

~♡~ Romance ~♡~

Romance with Law is slow, not even considered until they are around 22/23 years of age.

Niamh doesn't push for it actually, and is content to be his friend.

It's when she almost dies during a squarmish with marines that he goes '*oh shit*' And aganises over it.

Like she was is a medical coma to reduce brain swelling.

Gets overprotective once she awakens to the point he pisses her off and they have a fight.

Have an argument, reveals feelings.

Take it slow? Nah.

Handfast ceremony with the crew as witnesses, oh god what have we done.

Keeps relationship hidden from everyone outside the crew, doesn't get revealed until after Wano.

Rather private with the crew as well.

~♡~ Sealskin, Tattoos, and piercings. ~♡~

Whatever she embroiders on the coat becomes a tattoo on her human body? It stings to do this?

She adds the Roger along the bottom.

Laws shoulder hearts to her coats shoulders.

Later she will get a heart tattooed on her ring finger.

A big piece that makes a sternum tattoo that wraps to her back? Not sure.

Remakes parts of Law's hat out of her sealskin as a wedding present. Her kind can live longer then humans but she's essentially giving a piece of her life away. Maybe that is what saves him from blackbeard later on. She can also feel vague pains from him in her soul when he gets hurt. (Or

Has multiple ear piercings. Ear cuffs and whatnot as well.

most of them are gifts from law. He likes to see the glittering on her ears.

~♡~ Niamh Personality ~♡~

Quiet, much more of one to observe then to be in the action.

Steady like the sea, and stubborn.

Has a need to fix things, even to her own detriment.

An icy anger, but patient.

She is uncomfortable with those not from the crew, and in a group of unknowns she is a wallflower.

She's not great with socializing because of her disability, those skills were not learned growing up. It's better now then when she first joined the crew.

Is often described as motherly/sisterly.

Her love language is time and making gifts for those she cares for. Which works great with her chosen profession as a seamstress.

Has a great interest in fabrics, stitching, thread, yarns, etc. Fashions maybe, but everyday wear is what she likes to make.

Likes patterns, and will make pieces that are to be styled with a plain piece. Like laws Zou look or Punk hazard are good examples.

But Law is a POS and pairs weird shit together.

The orange and yellow from Stampede for example.

She gets annoyed at him for that shit

"Maybe you should pick my outfits if it annoys you so much" he flirts "Maybe I will." She replies not taking it for flirting at all.

~♡~ Weapons/Fighting ~♡~

A pair of tailor shears turned into daggers, & various sized needle throwing knives.

Hand to hand, very much a rogue.

Kicks like a horse, has extra strength because of selkie/swimming.

~♡~ Hobbies/Things she likes ~♡~

Sewing, embroidery, quilting, knitting, crocheting, etc. If it has something to do with crafting, she probably does it.

Seashells & Jellyfish.

She does enjoy reading, but likes more to be read to while she does something with her hands. Audiobooks are her friend.

Drawing and doodling as well.

Tea person, doesn't like coffee.

~♡~ Family ~♡~

Spouse: Trafalgar Law

Children(?)

Coraline (Future)

Father: Alsvid

Mother: Animulus Calliope

Siblings:

Mervyn

Murphy

Maccon "Mac"

Maternal Aunt/Uncles/Cousins.

Paternal family (?)

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