#hugs me goodbye

[solarisfortuneia]

— 𝐟𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐮𝐭𝐞𝐬.

and the smell of camphor dancing in the wind.

✦ info: he didn't know he'd lose you so soon. (come back, please. even if it is just for five more minutes.)

✦ featuring: alhaitham.

✦ warnings: angst, character death (reader), heartache, 1.2k words, somewhat proof-read.

✦ notes: i cried so goddamn hard writing this. why is my first work after hiatus pain. why did i pick up the angst wip. but!! i'm writing again, so that's good. (more notes at the end.)

he didn’t know that it was your last day together. 

he didn’t know that the smile you gave him that afternoon, your eyes sparkling like sunlight upon the serene waves of the ocean, would be the last he’d ever see. that the playful light in your gaze would fade so very soon, slipping through his fingers like sand.

he didn’t know that last night would be the last time he held you close while you drifted off to sleep. he didn’t know that today would be the last time he’d wake up with you.

he didn’t think he’d lose you like this. 

he didn’t think he wouldn’t be able to save you from that blow. 

“please, please,”  he begs, both to you and to whatever force that is just barely holding you together. “just stay with me for five more minutes, please. until i can get you somewhere.” 

the rain soaks him to the bone, clothes and hair sticking to his skin. your lips stay motionless, eyes shut.

“wake up, please,”  he bargains. “you can have all the five minutes of extra sleep you want later, i promise. just—”  his vision blurs, and something shines on the ground before it is gone, swallowed by damp earth, lost amidst drops of falling rain. 

desperately, he tears off parts of his traveling cloak to staunch the bleeding. deep inside, he knows it is futile. he knows your wound is too great. he knows what lies ahead. but he cannot help but press the cloths to your wound and pray. 

please, please tell me it’ll be okay. 

please stay with me, beloved. i’ll read you all the books in the world. i’ll sleep in with you everyday, even if we end up whiling away our time. 

please. stay. stay with me. i can’t lose you yet.  

“— just wake up, beloved.” 

by some miracle, your eye flutters. just a bit. just enough to set hope ablaze, just enough for the grip on his heart to loosen a tiny bit. he buries his face in your shoulder, resting his head against your neck, uncaring of the blood that stains his clothes. your blood. on his clothes. his hands. everywhere. 

no. no. this can’t be happening.

he feels you strain beneath him, your unwounded arm gently, weakly brushing his back. he jolts upright, eyes trained on your face. you send a frail smile his way. he clasps your face softly as you nuzzle into his palm.

“alhaitham—” 

his full name. archons, how long has it been since you called him that?  

“— take good care of yourself, okay?” you tell him, chest heaving, your fingertips touching a tear on his cheeks. “i love you. so much.” 

those are the last words he hears fall from your lips. he presses a kiss to your forehead, to your eyelids, and to your cheeks and to your lips, over and over and over until he feels your breath slow, hoping they’ll say what he knows he cannot manage to choke out.

i love you. 

he stays there next to you for who knows how long, holding you until the rain slows and a faint rainbow smiles in the sky.

until he can’t smell camphor anymore.

—

every person has their curiosities. 

they’re just the little traits that set them apart from others, the things that make them tick just a little bit differently, the things that make them, them.

for instance, someone may be obsessed with collecting tiny furniture, while another eats the crusts off their sandwich before actually consuming it. someone may have an affinity for the most niche aspects of linguistics, while another can accurately predict the next raindrop that slides down a window pane.

after all, no two people are exactly alike, are they?

alhaitham knows he’s got his fair share of these curiosities himself. his aversion to soup and all things that resemble it, to name one. and with you, he’d noticed two things. 

number one: the scent of camphor that seems to linger on every inch of your person. 

he’d caught whiff of it almost immediately the first time you met. you were but one of his juniors in the akademiya, filled with bright-eyed curiosity and anxiety to match. you had tripped over a stair and bumped into his table in the library, bringing the mountain of books in your arms crashing down.

and with subsequent coincidental meetings, he learnt that the subtle scent of camphor dancing in the air meant you weren’t far away. 

you were, unfortunately, one of the poor souls who seemed to be cursed with constantly recurring minor illnesses, and almost always walked about with a stuffy nose. and so, you always carried a small disc of camphor in a handkerchief, as well as in your pocket.

you swore up and down, left, right and center that sniffing the vapors helped make breathing easier.

‘it’s my grandmother’s remedy, alhaitham! camphor always works wonders. well, that and eucalyptus oil.”

alhaitham may not know the validity of your claim or the legitimacy of the cure, but he knew to never, ever question a grandmother’s remedy. that, and he’d much rather refrain from starting a back-and-forth about something so small.

and number two: your neverending pleas of different variations of ‘just five more minutes!’ 

“five more minutes, ‘haitham. please.” you’d whine grumpily when he woke you up to start your day. “let me sleep in for five more minutes.” 

“five more minutes, habibi,” you’d ask when he put down the story you’d requested he read out to you before bedtime. “read me the part where she finds the music box?”

“five more minutes, baby,” is what you’d tell him when he asks how much longer you’d take getting ready. “you can’t rush perfection!”

those five more minutes were never five minutes long. 

but he’d always, always indulged you and those pleading eyes of yours. as stoic as he appeared to be, you lived in his heart. of course he could never deny you anything under the sun.

—

alhaitham remembers that silly little song you sang over and over, the one you’d learnt from a kid in the bazaar. he’d taken you to see one of nilou’s performances, and, friendly soul that you were, you’d struck up a conversation with some of the eager audience members before the play. 

“oh, how i wish i was a bird flying free,

i’d see the world, every mountain and every sea!

oh, how i wish i was a cloud in the sky,

wouldn’t you like to wave to me as i pass by?”

you’d hum that rhyme on every idle afternoon.

loss is inevitable. he knows that, with how logical and rational and straightforward he is. he’d lost his parents, but he was far too young to remember. he’d lost his grandmother, but she passed in her sleep of old age, serene and wise.

but you? he didn’t think you’d leave him this soon. a singular wish sits in his soul, making its home in his bones. 

a wish that you’d come back, somehow. 

he wishes you gave him five more minutes, just as he always did.  but he knows that you could’ve given him five more hours, five more days, five more years and five more decades and it would still not be enough time spent with you. 

a blue feathered bird comes to perch on his shoulder, interrupting his musings just as he raises his face to the sky. he sees the heart shaped cloud that floats idly above sumeru city.

 he thinks of the rhyme again, and something in him tells him to wave. and so he does. a scent so familiar lingers, faintly brushing his nose in the wind that picks up.

“alhaitham, it's time to go.”  kaveh calls his name softly.

 alhaitham doesn't move. “five more minutes,”  he says, echoing your favorite phrase. “i smell camphor in the breeze.” 

✦ extra notes: my alhaitham characterization for this fic stems from how i believe that when alhaitham is attached, he's attached. so i focused more on that, and less of all that rationality and whatnot. this one loves deeply, yk?

that camphor thing is a real grandma remedy in our household (my mom would tie some in a hanky and put some under my pillow and still to this day reminds me to do it when i'm sick) which is what originally sparked the idea for this

when i'd initially started this wip, i didn't expect it go this way. usually i write with my brain, but i think i wrote this one with my fingers working faster than i can think hsjhsj so sorry if it's kinda out of place lmao but yk what? i'm happy with it still even though i feel like it doesn't have my usual quality.

thanks for reading.

[deerest-deer]

lottie + hugs

[lonelyzarquon]

A thousand bodies piled up I never thought would be enough To show you just what I've been thinking

[mod2amaryllis]

sad to go to work tomorrow cuz it's my second to last day :(

[bilolli]

I finally finished and edited it! This time there shouldn’t be problems with sizes and messed up colors.

Anyway, this scene lives rent free in my head and I HAD to draw it.

Solar Lunacy belongs to the talented @bamsara​ , (seriously, it’s a wonderfull fanfic, read it.)

Process GIF and variants under the cut!

On PC this one looks better, but on my phone it’s wayyyy to saturated and dark. Ujsdbidfshf I hate screens differences.

[kenneth-black]

This was when Eddie thought he lost Chris…

…and this is when he actually lost him 🙃

[God, please bring back this man’s child I beg of you 🥲]

[mikaelasgraveyard]

okay. so as a warning before i start, this is going to be my typical rambling but even worse cause im literally in bed about to go to sleep after this. enjoy ?

so vulnerability is i think one of the fucking hardest things for anyone to allow themselves to. be ? feel ? whatever. the definition for my purposes btw is like you know. state of being emotionally vulnerable. revealing yourself to someone else. being honest. whatever.

no matter how you’re raised i think its so heavily ingrained in our heads that it’s a Weakness right? like being raised as a man is going to give you that. “oh im too tough to cry hmph” thing. that whole “the masculine urge to not tell anyone a got damn thing”. literally men i think are allowed to be angry but not anything else ? and usually it’s not even a conscious thing thats just kinda whats expected and you go through with that. guy (usually straight) friendships are usually gonna be built on this. idea of honestly idk. keeping everyone at an arms length? they adopt this secrecy mode and Everything is on a Need to Know basis. it’s lonely and it’s jarring to hear about like i’ve said because there’s just. no deeper platonic connection here really. you make acquaintances and nothing more

being raised as a woman is like slightly different but showing emotion is still. looked down upon ? but it feels like in another way. like for men its like if they cry its all just “man up” but if a woman cries people just. look down on you. even if they dont say anything you get this pitying look that makes you want to rip your skin off and so usually women also adopt adverse reactions to the act of Being vulnerable. but less of a. “oh doing this is awkward” but more “showing x emotion is a shameful act”

but what do we do without it ? society conditions us into these hardened shells and concrete walls yet humans are Social Creatures. we need intimacy. and as fucking terrible as it feels, to get to a place of connection you must reveal the soft spot of your belly and trust them not to strike.

genuinely as much as it terrifies me to be honest with people, i try so. so hard to be. i know i fail i know i fail all the time because lying and turning away from people is so fucking easy but it’s also so lonely. and i won’t lie its a million times worse to imagine a world where the closest friend i had wouldnt grieve my absence than to be vulnerable.

it scares me to be hurt but i accept that i will be. i accept that its going to hurt every time i lose a friend. i accept the nights i stay up overanalyzing every interaction ive had in fear of rejection. i accept how difficult it’ll be, because of how equally beautiful it’ll be.

i have a lot to say about vulnerability actually but maybe another day

[amethystsoda]

[aeymii]

Unrequited

[holdfastperseus]

So “Goodbyes” which is played during the Hug Scene in 1x06 has almost the exact same sound as “Complex and Many” which is played during Lokius goodbye in 2x06?

And the part where Loki hugged him has the exact same melody as when loki gripped mobius’ hand

[kinos-fortress-2]

idc about tf2 anymore but he could’ve end up with her and his stupid ugly kids idfk

[s-aint-elmo]

thinking about book cerise/raven again and the way it converted me completely in the span of like 300 pages. listen. listen. it's about cerise trusting raven with her biggest secret. it's about raven coming to cerise for help about her now uncertain destiny. it's about cerise letting raven in and becoming her friend despite her need for secrecy and solitude. it's about raven inspiring cerise to be proud of who she is, simply by showing her that they all have a choice. it's about cerise outing herself to save raven. it's about raven fighting smarter than all the hoods and wolfs combined to help cerise win the right to choose her fate. it's about cerise coming out of her shell and welcoming friendship and camaraderie because of raven's efforts. it's about raven being afraid and unsure in a dangerous place doing dangerous things, and wishing she were wrapped up in cerise's cloak instead, to ward all the bad things away. it's about

[nartml]

soren and claudia make me sick.

[monstermoviedean]

if you have a good vibe/kind thought to spare and could send it my way. i'd really appreciate it.

[joeyisourranger]

ending it all actually

[goodwitchycaro]

huh, i wonder what little guy's talking about