#i am BEGGING you to listen to Despair Is a Siren it's so good it rewired my brain
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
Photo
Despair is a siren calling through the night The earth wraps itself in a shroud I curse my fate, I curse my free will
In you, I see the glass towers coming down In you, I see something that died in me fester and ignite Despair Is a Siren - SubRosa
reached the critical point of “i’ve stared at this so long that i hate it now but it’s been hours so i can’t just delete everything”
that was my ref but it went downhill fast huh. stop staring like that oggie ur scaring the hoes <3
#golden kamuy#golden kamui#ogata hyakunosuke#ogata golden kamuy#golden kamuy fanart#illustration#fanart#sketch#artwork#art#artists on tumblr#my art#eyestrain#i am BEGGING you to listen to Despair Is a Siren it's so good it rewired my brain#it's such a prime ogatacore song wth#i had the flu for the last week and my inspiration's been nonexistent lately so v little art sorry
651 notes
·
View notes
Text
Dick comforts a dying civilian. He wishes he didn’t have to lie to do so.
~oOo~
“You’re going to be okay. I promise.”
That’s what he says. What he swears. The dying man, hardly a man, couldn’t be a man, he’s barely an adult, he’s so young, so young, only nods his head at the lie. It’s a sure movement, confident and trusting, and Dick has to force his mouth shut in order not to take it all back.
The asphalt is cold, it’s barely eleven thirty, but there are no stars or street lamps to help soothe the roughness of it all. The ink that oozes out and stains the black is staining his suit as well. It coats his hands and fingers, breaks through his knees, slides under his feet. Despite the pebbles that press into his shins, Dick can only focus on how soft and slick blood is.
Blood is soft.
“My name’s John,” the young man offers. Red stains his teeth in a grin that reminds Dick of his own. “Nice to meet you, sir, uh, Nightwing.”
He knows he’s not really supposed to listen to the scanners. Old habits die hard, and even though Batman’s disapproval is almost enough to keep him away, Dick’s fingers still twitches to his retired radio. It’s how he got here. It’s why he’s here now.
“Hi, John,” is all he can really offer, too focused on keeping his hands in position. Too focused on trying to slow the stream, the bubble of life that keeps pouring out. Upper left side of the sternum. Exit wound out from the third left rib. Estimated time of sixty, maybe ninety seconds, since the shot. Too late. Too late.
“My sister’s name is Rita,” John says, and his eyes are wandering across Dick’s masked face. “She’s thirteen.”
Dick nods. Digs his fingers into the small hole further. The ambulance is maybe two minutes out. Maybe more. The call only just came in.
“What’re you doing?”
Finally, Dick shifts. John has brown, unremarkable eyes. “I’m stemming the blood flow. You were shot.”
“Really?” John is genuinely surprised. “When?”
Dick presses his hands down a little harder. “A few minutes ago. Tell me more about your sister, John.”
“Why was I shot? Who did it?”
“I don’t know,” Dick responds. “You said Rita was thirteen?”
John smiles, eyes scrunching up. “Yeah,” he sighs. “She’s going to turn fourteen next month. An actual teenager.” He adds, softer, “She’s growing up too fast.”
“I know the feeling,” Dick agrees, thinking of his own teenager. Damian, indeed, was growing up too fast. He was almost up to his shoulder now. “Any plans for a birthday party?”
The blood isn’t stopping despite the pressure. It keeps seeping through his fingers, a warm envelope compared to the dry cold.
“She wants-” John coughs, chest caving. “She wants to go to Disney World. Go see Mickey Mouse.”
“That sounds like fun,” Dick cheers, trying to calculate how much time is left. John’s green coat is soaked, drenched, and Dick knows if he were to squeeze the front, it would dribble.
John jerks his head and his eyes are roaming. There is little color in his face, lips parted in desperate gasps. The shock from before is steadily going away. The adrenaline is leaving, but everything else is fixed in place.
“Am I,” his voice cracks, “Am I dying?”
“No,” Dick reassures. “You’re going to be fine.” He presses down harder.
John whimpers. “Stop, stop. That hurts.”
“I know,” Dick soothes. “Everything is going to be okay, John. Look at me. You’re going to be okay.”
A lie.
The younger man doesn’t look at him though and he bites his lip, squeezing his eyes shut. “I can’t feel my hands,” he admits. “I-I don’t feel very good.”
“Help is almost here, John.”
Another lie. He can hear the orders going back and forth in his ear. There’s traffic. It’ll be another three minutes until an ambulance is free.
“Just stay calm. Deep breaths. Breathe with me, okay? In and out.”
John is trying his best to copy the exaggerated movements, lungs stuttering and shaking. The panic is setting in though. The panic and the desperation.
“What am I gonna tell Rita?” he asks like he’s expecting an answer. “What am I gonna tell mom?”
Dick doesn’t know.
“We were-- We were all gonna go together, you know? She’s turning fourteen but she still wants me around and I don’t understand why but-”
John coughs again. It’s weak.
“I’m scared,” he whispers. “What’s going to happen to me?”
Dick opens his mouth again to spew some half-hearted reassurance or answer that’s just lies with a pretty bow atop. He stops though. John is staring at him with dirty brown eyes. There’s nothing special about them. Nothing notable. There are no flecks of gold or amber in them that catch the light. There’s no stony wall of indifference built behind them. The whites of his eyes are splattered with burst vessels and strain, and they hide nothing.
But John has brown eyes that stare at him, stare into his soul, and beg for honesty. Truth.
Dick can’t bring himself to use harsh words though. Can’t bring himself to form the sentence ‘You’re going to die,’ because that’s cruel and too blunt and death is so personal. Dying is too intricate to be put like that. You can’t explain death.
Dick’s died before. Only a minute or two of complete nothingness, but death nonetheless. He remembers the moments leading up to it more vividly than he does the moments after. His body hurt, ached in a way that he was sure he’d never feel the same again. His throat was sore, deep gouges and scratches still oozing blood. He could barely see out of his left eye, nearly swollen shut, and his wrist were throbbing.
Most of all, though, Dick remembered suffocating. Remembered Luthor’s clean, clean face. There wasn’t a speck of dirt or blemish on that man. His teeth were a perfect white and his eyes were filled with apathy. Luthor’s metal gauntlet smelled like oil, and he could sometimes taste it on his tongue during the worst nights. The pill was small, shoved down his throat so efficiently, but the very idea of medicating like that again leaves him shivering.
He struggled. He did. Dick struggled as much as he could, muscles screaming and heart crying out. At some point, he recalls looking for Bruce. Looking for a small comfort in his despair. A familiar face to ease the panic.
There was only Luthor though. Luthor and his pearly white teeth and apathetic eyes.
His lungs had burned and it had spread to the rest of his body like he was on fire. Dick’s last moments, his death, his murder, was filled with nothing but horror and pain.
Dick hadn’t wanted to die. Dick hadn’t wanted to know he was going to die. There was no hope with that. No sense of faith for another outcome. Fruitless as it may have been, Dick had wanted to dare for a savior.
No, Dick would not be cruel. He could not be.
“Nightwing?”
His name is hardly a breath out in the open air. The wheezes have stopped. Blood still pours and pours and pours. His suit is stained. The ground is soaked.
“It’s not scary,” Dick says, leaning closer. It’s truthful, this time. Dying wasn’t scary. Everything up until death was. “It’s like falling asleep.”
“I’m not ready,” John rushes to say. “I--I don’t wanna be alone.”
His eyes keep flickering closed, slowly fluttering open every few seconds. Carefully, cautiously, Dick removes his hands. Alleviates the pressure. There is an awful suctioning noise as he releases his fingers from the wound. John doesn’t notice.
“You won’t be,” Dick whispers, taking the other man’s trembling hand into his. “I’m here. You won’t be alone.”
“You said it’s like falling asleep?” His voice is hardly a rasp. “I go to sleep and it’ll all be just a dream?”
Death was a dream for Dick. A nap in oblivion. He closed his eyes, held his breath, and then opened them and gasped. That was it.
“Yeah, just a dream. That’s all it is.”
“And after...” John trails off, pausing for such a long time that Dick doesn’t know what to do except to continue to hold his hand. He speaks up again though, eyes flickering to find opaque lens staring back at him. “What happens after?”
There’s a wailing in the distance, close enough where the high pitched whines sound like hope and the flashing blue and red lights look like safety. There’s too much life around him though. Too much of it leaking into the asphalt and draining out of that green winter coat. John stopped shaking awhile ago. His grip lessened, and even though his eyes were meeting Dick’s own, Dick knows that he was no longer seeing.
On some level, Dick knows it’s too late. It was already too late when he arrived. John, this man that barely looked over twenty one, with a chipped tooth and boring brown eyes and a thirteen year old sister named Rita, had the misfortune of Nightwing arriving too late.
“After?” Dick repeats, squeezing the man’s hand. “Well, that’s the easy part. After, you wake up.”
He doesn’t see the exact moment brown eyes become dull, doesn’t look at his watch to confirm the precise second of when John takes his last breath, but he does know that sirens flood the dim street thirty seconds later and that it is much too late to do a thing about it.
He lets go of John’s limp hand, briefly considers wiping his gloves onto his already smeared suit, and allows two paramedics to swarm the quickly cooling body. He waits for police to arrive, watches as they drape a black tarp over Rita’s older brother’s body, and declare it a homicide. Even throughout the questioning, of which they let him off relatively easy considering the sheer volume of-- of life splattered all over him, Dick lets them do their jobs.
He leaves with little fanfare, grappling away from the scene and flipping through rooftops.
The radio in his belt feels like it weighs a thousand pounds. The static in his comm is loud and screeching, and for a moment, Dick entertains the notion of flinging it out into the night. Throwing the cheap device into darkness, watch it plummet and shatter.
The sirens are soft, muffled with distance, but the taste in his mouth takes him back as if he never left. Copper. Oil. Dirt. His own sweat. A dry pill.
See, the thing is, Dick isn’t very good about being honest. He’s tongue and cheek most of the time, quipping and tossing around puns as distractions and ice-breakers. When people go to him for guidance, they aren’t looking for his honest thoughts. They’re looking for leadership. They’re looking for advice that’ll help them through their trials. Most of the time, they just want hope.
John was looking for hope.
Call him an optimist. Call him a pessimist. At the end of the day, there’s still water in the cup, and that’s all that matters, right?
Dying was not like falling asleep. It wasn’t taking a little nap and floating in forever. You don’t wake up from death. It wasn’t a dream that you don’t remember after opening your eyes. It wasn’t a nightmare that leaves your heart beating out of your still chest.
Death was nothing. Nothing.You aren’t supposed to come back from nothing.
You aren’t supposed to wake up either, and yet here he was.
Dick isn’t very good about telling the truth. He’s a very good liar. A good actor. Manipulative, some would say. He prefers to see the other half of the coin. He doesn’t like the darkness or the grim. He tolerates it all, yes, but he’s a good liar. Good enough to fool himself.
Sometimes, Dick wonders if he ever actually woke up.
Thoughts like these are dangerous. They lead down a rabbit hole that’s difficult to claw out of. He’ll do it again, shovel through his own thoughts until his nails are broken off and the tips of his fingers are raw, but he can’t let himself ever succumb to it all again.
Death wasn’t like a dream, but it took all the same. It took memories from him. Those short, precious, important minutes he spent dead took away a lot of things. And he gets so angry when he can’t remember the good things.
He gets so furious when he has trouble recalling his first birthday at the Manor. He feels an unbridled rage when he doesn’t know off the top of his head when Jason got adopted. These dangerous and purging flickers of loathing for himself shove everything else aside when Tim talks to him about certain missions that he knows he should know like they happened yesterday, and yet even the thoughts of it are fuzzy and woven with cob webs.
He’ll never forgive himself for forgetting what it was like to hug Damian for the first time.
Death, trauma, it all stole from him, but he was also lucky enough to wake up.
Blink. Gasp. Breathe. Taste ash and inhale smoke.
John had brown eyes. Rita is turning fourteen next month.
The radio call requested emergency services for a neighborhood disturbance at eleven twenty five. Nightwing arrived on scene at eleven twenty eight.
The blood under his fingernails will take three showers to get out.
John bled out and his life now stained every part of Dick Grayson.
These are things Dick will remember.
Death is not a dream, so this is the price for making it one.
#dick grayson#dick grayson needs a hug#nightwing#dc#fanfic#late night drabbles#angst#cw:death#tw:blood#mentions of the following characters:#bruce wayne#jason todd#tim drake#damian wayne#dick grayson centric#honestly no idea where this came from#just kinda happened and now i'm too tired to do anything about it#hope ya enjoyed my angst fest#my fic
94 notes
·
View notes
Text
Instinct Part 4: Air
Part One | Part Two | Part Three
Read on below, or on AO3 if you prefer!
Now that Kagome was safe and asleep, Inuyasha relaxed enough to think about eating. It had actually been a couple of days since he’d eaten – that fox had stolen his dinner a couple of nights ago, and he’d been so worried looking after Kagome in Kaede’s hut, he hadn’t had the heart for it.
With appreciative growls, he scoffed down the plate of onigiri that Mama had quickly made him to eat as a snack before the doctor arrived, then heaved a thankful sigh. He hadn’t realised how hungry he was until he took that first bite. He could see Mama grinning in amusement at his fervent enjoyment of the simple rice balls, but he didn’t care. She took his empty plate and handed him the red bandana she’d put aside on Kagome’s desk, gesturing towards his pointed ears with a pointed look before heading back downstairs to the kitchen.
Inuyasha knotted the fabric over his hair with a sigh. He really didn’t like wearing one, even though he saw the necessity of it. He patted his hands over the top of his head, making sure it covered his ears, then sat down on the edge of the bed again, listening with rising concern to the sound of Kagome’s wheezing breaths.
The medicine Mama had provided had definitely brought down her fever a little, but it had done nothing for the rattle in her lungs. She was tossing restlessly on the bed in her sleep, and he reached out to take her hand, rubbing her cold fingers to try and bring warmth back into them. He’d teased her before about having hands like a cold fish, but they had never been like this. Even the tips of her fingers and her small oval fingernails had a cool bluish tinge.
She began coughing, opening her eyes, and he eased her into a sitting position, supporting her with one hand on her stomach and tapping on her back with the other as he had so often over the last few days. Kagome’s hands weakly grasped at a tissue from the box in her lap.
“Inu…” she gasped, as the harsh coughs shook her. Her breaths were growing shallower.
“It’s okay.” He rubbed her back soothingly. “I know it hurts, but you gotta try and cough it up.” Her eyes widened with panic as he eased her back on to the propped up pillows, and she clutched at his hand tightly. The blue at the tips of her fingers now also tinting her lips.
“Inu…”, she gasped, her chest heaving. “Can’t… breathe…”
“MAMA!” he hollered.
The wheeze in her lungs was louder, a definite whistle in her breathing, and he could hear her heart hammering in her chest, its pace racing like a panic stricken rabbit running for its life.
Inuyasha pulled her upright again and climbed behind her on the bed, pulling her back against his chest. The rumbling growl that had helped loosen the thick mucous clogging her lungs over the past few nights began without any thought on his part. He barely registered the sound of a plate breaking downstairs, and Mama’s panicked feet running up the steps, too focused on the girl leaning against him, the scent of her panic rising to envelop him like mist.
He entwined with fingers with Kagome’s, his thumbs rubbing against the soft skin of her smaller hands, desperate to help, but not knowing what he should do. He wanted to pull her into his arms and hold her tightly, but the small part of his brain still capable of conscious thought recognised that wouldn’t help her to breathe.
Mama took one look at her gasping daughter and ran back downstairs. Inuyasha could hear her slightly tremulous voice speaking on the phone in the kitchen.
“Hello? I need an ambulance please. To the Higurashi Shrine. Yes that’s 3-49-1 Minami Otsuka, Toshima-ku. Please hurry. It’s my daughter, she can’t breathe. We think it might be influenza. She had paracetamol half an hour ago. Please. Alright, I’ll listen for the sirens. Thank you.”
Then she was racing back up the stairs again, dropping with a thud to her knees next to the bed, her own hands covering Inuyasha’s and Kagome’s.
“The ambulance is coming my darling. Try and stay calm. Deep breaths, that’s it. Follow my lead.” She nodded encouragingly as Kagome struggled to slow her breathing, her brown eyes locked on her daughter’s face. “Inuyasha, I’m going to need you to carry her down the stairs so they can take her away to hospital as soon as they get here. I’m not sure if they’ll let us both ride with her, so-”
Mama glanced up as Inuyasha’s rumbling growl changed in pitch suddenly, dropping to a deeper tone.
“No one is taking her away!”
Mama couldn’t help the slight shiver of fear that went down her spine. Inuyasha’s eyes, usually a beautiful amber, were changing – there was a flicker of red and blue around his iris, and pale irregular stripes like slash marks along his cheek bones. She didn’t really know what was going on, and Kagome was in no position to be able to tell her. But she understood that Inuyasha was frightened and angry. So she approached the situation in the only way she knew how.
“Inuyasha, I wouldn’t send her away from home, where I know she’s safe, unless I thought it was necessary.“ She tried to keep her tone warm and calming, the same as she would when Souta and Kagome were very upset. “You’ve taken such good care of her, and I am so very proud of you. But you brought her to me because you knew she needed help, because you knew she wasn’t getting any better.”
She smoothed her fingers over his, feeling the tension as the tendons in his fingers strained to keep from squeezing Kagome’s hands. “I’m her mother and I love her so much. You know that. You know that I wouldn’t do anything to hurt her.” She smiled at him, pushing down her own upset, hoping that her words would reach him in his heightened state. “And you called me Mama just now, when you needed me. I hope that means you realise that I care for you like a son, and that I would never do anything to hurt you either.”
Inuyasha was panting, as if battling some inner foe, his eyes screwed up tightly. The slash marks on his cheekbones were fading in and out, pulsing like a heartbeat. Mama watched them both worriedly. Kagome was panicking even more as she listened to Inuyasha’s laboured breathing, unable to see his face behind her, but seemingly understanding what was going on with him. Small whimpers escaped as she struggled to breathe.
“Inu…” she gasped. “It’s… okay.”
“I can’t…” Inuyasha snarled. He dropped his head down so his head rested on Kagome’s shoulder, his nose pushed into the curve of her throat. “Can’t lose you.”
Inuyasha fought to push back his youkai instincts, which were screaming at him to take Kagome away so he could keep her safe. He tried to breathe in Kagome’s usually calming scent, but that wasn’t helping. She smelt of sickness and terror, and he couldn’t fix it. Couldn’t make it better. And he wasn’t sure if she was terrified because of her illness, or terrified of him losing control, which made him want to howl in despair. The last thing he wanted to do was for his youkai side to be let loose in the modern world. He tried to focus on Mama’s words, but even her usually calm tone had an edge of fear to it.
“Inuyasha, the hospital will help her. It’s a place with lots of doctors, who will all be doing their best to make Kagome better. They’ll help her breathe, and find out exactly what her sickness is so she gets the right medicine.”
All of a sudden a repetitive wailing sound rent the air, and he focused his attention on it. It was getting closer to the shrine, approaching rapidly. He’d never heard anything like it. He snarled, almost losing his battle with reason, hunching over Kagome protectively so he could be ready to either fight for her or beat a speedy retreat down the well. There was a rushing sound in his ears, and he could hardly hear Mama’s words. He shut his eyes tightly, trying to push back the waves of youki that wanted to gain dominance over his human side, ready to protect, ready to fight.
“Please Inuyasha”, Mama begged, “I know you can probably hear the sirens on the ambulance. That means it’s almost here. I need your help to get her down the stairs. I can’t fix this for her, not here. I’m not a doctor. Kagome needs to travel to hospital. They have machines in the ambulance that will help her breathe, I promise.”
He focused on that last sentence. Kagome needed to breathe. Nothing he could provide could help her with that. He had listened to his own mother drown on dry land, unable to breathe through the fluid and pus filling her lungs, and he never wanted to experience that horror again. To sit and watch someone whom he loved more than himself fight and lose against their own body.
“You promise?” he rumbled, his jaws clenched tightly. He let go of Kagome’s left hand and reached out blindly for the Tessaiga, which he’d propped up in its usual spot against the wall near Kagome’s bed. He squeezed the haft of the sword tightly in his fist, and felt a pulse against his palm, his father’s youki helping him gain control. His heart was still beating frantically, but he felt more himself. He opened his eyes and blinked at Mama, needing her answer if he was to let Kagome out of his arms. She squeezed his hands and did her best to smile reassuringly at him.
“I promise.”
Taking a deep breath, Inuyasha lurched to his feet, carrying Kagome in his arms. He held her like a child, with her head resting on his shoulder and her chest close to his, one arm supporting her back, rubbing up and down, and the other cradling her legs. He wanted to keep her as close as possible for as long as possible. He didn’t know what would happen when they took her away. How long would she be gone? One night? A day or more? He wasn’t sure when it had happened, but he realised now that he needed her touch like he needed air. Without her, he would be alone in the dark again.
Before he could dwell anymore on it, he padded quickly down the stairs and out through the kitchen to the back door, pausing just outside as he waited for Mama to slide shoes on her feet and grab her handbag from a hook on the wall in the genkan. The wailing sound was screaming at him, and he looked at Mama again for guidance.
Reaching up, Mama rubbed one hand soothingly on his back, the other stroking Kagome’s forehead, murmuring words of encouragement to her daughter as she struggled to get in enough air. Together they walked carefully down the steep stone steps that marked the entrance to the Shrine, and waited underneath the red Torii gate.
“Inu…” Kagome wheezed.
He continued to rub his hand up and down her back, savouring her closeness. “Save your breath sweet girl. It will be alright. I trust your Mama and so should you.” He turned to look at Mama again, a question in his eyes.
“When the ambulance comes, there will be people who will help Kagome onto a bed in the back. They will probably put something over her mouth and nose that will help her breathe.” Mama’s voice faltered a little. “I don’t know if they will let both of us travel with her.”
Inuyasha took a deep breath. Now that he had calmed somewhat, he could scent exactly how worried and upset Mama was. She was putting on a brave face for both of them, trying to keep it together. Even though it would hurt to surrender Kagome to someone he didn’t know, it would be easier for him to follow than for Mama.
“You should go. You know what needs to happen in this time. They might ask questions that I don’t know the answers to, and I don’t want to say or do anything that would put Kagome in danger.” He looked at her sternly. “But I’m gonna follow.”
Mama gave him a watery smile, a tear running down her cheek, which she wiped away quickly. “I wouldn’t expect anything less.”
The both took a step back as the blaring lights and screaming siren of the ambulance rounded the corner. Inuyasha’s grip on Kagome tightened before he could stop himself. Mama rubbed his arm.
“They only turn on the sirens and lights to get here faster, so other cars move out of the way. I promise, it will be okay.”
As soon as the motor stopped, two men leaped out of the vehicle, one opening up the wide doors at the back of the ambulance, the other approaching them. Inuyasha tamped down the urge to growl.
“Higurashi-san?”
Mama stepped forward. “Yes, that’s me. My daughter Kagome has been ill with what we thought was just a bad cold over the last few days, but it’s suddenly worsened and she’s having trouble breathing.”
“Alright. Let us take it from here.” The man gave Kagome a kind smile, patting her shoulder. “Kagome-san, I can hear how hard it is for you to breathe right now. Let’s get you to hospital quickly so we can find out what’s causing this.”
Before the man could touch her again, Inuyasha stepped forward, jumping into the back of the ambulance where the other man was in the process of getting the bed organised. He startled in surprise, but shuffled back as far as he could in the cramped space so that Inuyasha could lay Kagome down on the thin mattress covered in a white sheet. His nose twitched with all the conflicting smells, and he clenched his teeth hard. He didn’t want to let her go, but he had to do this. Mama said it was the only way. He had to think of Kagome.
He laid her down on the bed and tried to step back, but she clutched at him, her eyes wide with fear, her breathing shallow and wheezing. He gently prized her fingers away, kissing them before pushing her hands back to her chest.
“I promise, I’ll follow. I’ll be right there.” Inuyasha took a step backwards as the man sat down next the bed, turning knobs and checking equipment efficiently. He placed a plastic mask over Kagome’s face, and something else on the end of her finger. The hiss of air almost covered the sound of her rasping breaths and her small whimpers of Inuyasha’s name.
Inuyasha fought the urge to rip the mask away, his fists clenched tightly. “Can Kagome’s mother travel with you?” he said, trying to smother the snarl that wanted to emerge. The man nodded reassuringly at Inuyasha as he reached for different items, placing them on Kagome’s skin. Inuyasha clenched his hands tighter.
“Yes, of course. We’ll take good care of them both.” Inuyasha nodded, then jumped down to help Mama climb into the back of the ambulance. As soon as she was settled on a small drop down seat, the other man slammed the door shut before Inuyasha could say goodbye. He’d never had a stronger urge to gut someone where they stood.
“We’re headed to Mizuno Memorial Hospital Emergency Room, if you’re following”, said the man with what Inuyasha assumed was meant to be a comforting smile. Inuyasha nodded as if that information made sense to him, then watched him climb into the front of the ambulance.
The motor turned over and Inuyasha stepped back on the curb, allowing Kagome to be taken away. He watched the ambulance turn the corner and he wanted to howl. But Mama had promised, and he trusted her almost as much as he trusted Kagome. He knew he couldn’t make Kagome better without help. But if she died…
He pushed the thought away as soon as it appeared. Kagome was young and strong, not older like his mother had been. She was a fighter, and almost as stubborn as he was. She would be okay, she had to be.
As soon as he was sure no one was watching, Inuyasha leapt onto the nearest building, and began leaping from rooftop to rooftop above the busy street, keeping the ambulance in sight. He had promised his girl that he would be right there, and he wasn’t about to let her down.
88 notes
·
View notes
Text
Too good to be true (This is how it ends.)
(Dean x Reader)
Summary : Dean and her are driving home, after another hunt together. They are in love, have been for a long time and it was so good… It was too good to be true…
Warnings : ANGST. DARK FIC. Seriously, I can’t put all the warnings because it could kill the fic, just don’t read it if you’re fragile lately.
Words : 2.4 k
Want to read more => ***MASTERLIST***
____________________
Dean was desperate.
That’s how it happened.
She was looking out the window again, that expression on her tired face : an implacable anger, but not the kind of anger that makes people leave, no, the kind that irreversibly erodes the soul.
She was silent again, what could she say ? Dean wanted her to look at him, he needed her to look at him, but not like she did lately, not with that anger, not with her broken heart just behind her doleful eyes.
He needed the look of the beginning : the first months, the first year… Those knowing smiling glares, the little wrinkles at the corner of her eyes when she stared at him in awe, the lust burning in her dark pupils constantly…
It’s gone now. The light in her died. Slowly, day after day, lie after lie.
It died during the nights she spent crying alone, hoping eventually she will fall asleep forever. It died while he was away, drowning his pain in the violence of hunting, in the bottom of a glass, in a bed that wasn’t his…
Is it possible that he loved her too much to make her happy ?
Squeezing the steering wheel, he struggled to see past the rain drops on the windshield. Drops of water, that’s all there were, on the windows, on her face, in his eyes… The little straight glowing lines of falling rain hit, harassing, the only light he still could control : the Impala’s headlights.
They were the best. Nothing more, nothing less. Together, they were invincible and their love used to frighten every nightmares, every monsters. It made the both of them twice stronger. At least in the beginning of their story…
Dean had found the woman that was going to save him when he thought nothing could ever but enough to do. She knew Hell too, not because she went there, but because it had followed her here on Earth, her entire life. The anger, the guilt, the sleepless nights… She was so much like him… And she took all of it when she moored to his gloomy life.
Everything was good now, and it was too good to be true…
She was pure fire and their passion burst just like in the movies. His hands always on her, her magic mouth able to make him beg with a whisper.
Moans in the middle of the night, laughs. Getting drunk and making fun of everybody else. Their hands in the blood of their last kill, their kisses burning… They were scary and their love was extreme. It consumed like bonfire.
It was just too good to be true…
He turned his head and saw the bruises on her neck. Bruises of hating love, and it got him half aroused, half disgusted with himself, as usual. Why wasn’t he able to be anything but rough lately ? Why did she provoke him so bad when he tried not to ?
How did it drift that much ?
Now their love making had become bruising and as violent as hate. No sweet kisses, no shy brushes of the hand, just hungry bites and yelling at each other while tearing each other clothes apart. And the sweetest taste of their mornings together turned to a sick codependency.
“Say something” he grunted, knowing it will probably turn to another fight, but the silence was killing him.
“Will you think of her next time you fuck me, Dean ?” she snapped, and his heart sank a little lower, making him nauseous again.
Shame.
A few years ago, she relieved him of his guilt with her love, but her hate little by little brought shame instead, and Dean couldn’t sleep anymore.
“Don’t be ridiculous…” he kept his eyes on the road, not realizing he was going a little faster, chasing something that he could never gain back : The love of his life.
Tears fell on her face, and Dean remembered swearing he would never hurt her. That was a long time ago…
That was too good to be true.
Silence fell again in the car. That deadly silence that smelled just like a panic attack. Lately, he didn’t listen to music anymore, neither did her, so silence won… But music… The poison that spoiled their love ruined every song on Earth. Love songs make Dean want to rip his own heart, and other songs just didn’t matter at all.
That storm outside had given the entire world a smell of dampness, of mold and Dean hated this.
He had no idea how it got that bad… He just remembered fear, a fear that used to wake him up at night. Because it was too good to be true, and eventually, he was going to lose her. Came over-protectiveness, possessiveness, and all the excessive reactions, the hurtful words that comes with them. Too much alcohol too, way too much.And fights, fights over hunts, fights about risks, about choices, about mean words and fights about fights. Those about jealousy and just about everything.
Yelling at each other constantly…
Venom on the lips, and bottles crashing on the wall and fists breaking pieces of furniture.
He remembered that evening she hit him… The first time. She had promised never to hurt him too. But he had promised to drink less, to stop trying to control her, to trust her during hunts…
He broke every single promise he made except that one about loving her that much for eternity…
Accelerating again, he hissed thinking of their fights, of her fists hitting his chest with rage, of his hands pushing her against the wall while she yells and fights him.
He remembered the night he stepped on both their hearts, already bleeding out on the floor, he just crushed them with his boot.
When Cassie showed up just that night… When his rage blinded him enough to make him think a dive in the past would ease the pain. A past when he hadn’t been ripped apart by love yet.
“Baby…”
“Don’t call me that !” she yelled. Again. Her voice had only been yells, sobs or moans for such a long time now. “Her hand was on your knee Dean ! Her fucking painted nails ready to dig in your back !”
“I don’t want her !”
He knew he was the one who made her crazy. Crazy in love, first, then he broke her trust, he broke her heart, and her mind with it.
“DON’T FUCKING LIE TO ME, DEAN ! I HATE YOU !”
Here it was.
As the words stabbed him, his hands gripped the wheel tighter and his eyes turned to her furious face. Her veins were showing in her neck, her eyes were red from crying too much, for too long…
“Stop being a crazy bitch !” his own word made him flinch.
He never thought he would speak like that to someone, let alone to the love of his life… But violence is easy to get used to.
“I AM THE CRAZY ONE ! YOU ALMOST KILLED THAT GUY LAST WEEK ! COPS ARE LOOKING FOR YOU !”
“He said he wanted to take you on the fucking wall !” he started to shake again, afraid, so afraid of something inside of him… But what ?
“WELL I NEVER CHEATED ON YOU DEAN !”
“You made him hope ! You were making me jealous on purpose ! Do you think I didn’t see the slutty smile, and the little bites of you lips ! Your lips are MINE !”
“IT HURTS HUH ?!”
He bit his lips until he tasted his own blood.
Yes, he almost killed that guy ; he had no control over anything lately, she made him worse than the Mark of Cain, and still was the best thing that happened to him. And, yes, when someone got close to her, Dean turned to a psycho, she had to throw a glass on his back to make him stop- he could still feel the ache of the impact on his spine- ; and she had to grab his wrist to make him run. But while the sirens were ringing in the hot summer night, he took her so hard in that alley, marking her with his angry hands, terrified he couldn’t stop his fingers from squeezing her neck to death… Tears in her eyes, she didn’t flinch when he threatened her, she never did.
Like she was satisfied by the idea of dying from his hands.
“You want me to suffer, you treat me like I’m a fucking enemy…” he sighed.
She took a shaky breath, obviously fighting her own painful lungs.
“I love you so much” she whispered before bursting in tears again, her thighs shaking with the ache she lived with each day. “I love you…” she was struggling to breath. “I love… Make me forget chaos…” she begged.
“Forgive me… Forgive me and I’ll do anything to make you happy again” he tried without an ounce of hope.
“I tried Dean… But each time I think of it…” she had so much gravel in her voice, they were choking her. “I want you to fucking die…”
He couldn’t add a word. Despair making him dizzy, and this stupid rain…
The Impala was cleaving the night at the speed of his heart.
He bent a little and looked up to try and see the sky but the storm was hiding all the stars. For a second, he wondered where was Sam. Probably in the bunker, with Eileen, with Jack, Cas, maybe Jody, Garth… With those friends he started neglecting a long time ago.
He thought of how she easily became friends with all of them. She was his spring. After a whole life of a bitter winter…
She has been the spring he waited for since childhood ; ice melt, flowers bloomed, he wasn’t cold anymore, and it wasn’t so dark.
He can’t go through winter again, not now that he knew the heavenly warmth of her arms.
She was spring…
But summer is crushing them now, flowers wilted and the sun burnt hope.
Just smile, he begged in his head. Smile, baby, I’m begging you, I can make this right… Just smile…
She put her face in her palms and screamed, making him jump a little, like he had been slapped. Her pain hurting him even more that it did her.
“I’ll make it right baby… I can fix us” he said reaching her knee.
But she hit his hand.
“DON’T TOUCH ME !”
“I’ll make it right” he insisted.
“YOU ALWAYS SAY THAT ! LOOK AT US DEAN ! TELL ME WHAT IS RIGHT ?” she yelled again, turning on her knees to face him. She seemed a little taller now, and she was so beautiful he just couldn’t believe it. There was no other woman he could look at, no other human he really cared about.
The tiny shorts she was wearing didn’t hide the fingers shaped bruises on her thighs, the tank top wet with her sweat, and her purple and yellow collar of shame screaming “too late, too far” at him.
And her eyes, the sadness in it was like a black hole.
“LOOK AT US !” she begged, and he wondered how this face could have been smiling once… It was a long time ago, and it was too good to be true.
He would have given everything he had to make her pain stop. Everything. But he had nothing left but her…
He thought it couldn’t be worse now, but she sat on her ankles and shook her head in sigh of renunciation.
“I have to let you go, Dean” she stated with a hoarse voice.
“What ? No !” he panicked, feeling Hell tighten around the world. His blood ran cold and icy sweat broke through the skin of his back. “Don’t say that…”
“You’re miserable, and… I want you to become Dean again, my Dean, the man I love so…” her voice broke. “So so much.”
“I am, baby… I am your Dean.”
“Not anymore… I’m like drug, you… you want me really bad but I’m b-bad for you” she wiped her face, trying to seem sure. “I’m letting you go.”
“Stop saying that, that’s not true. I was nothing before you came to my life.”
“You were a hunter, you were a hero, my hero… baby.”
Here was the love. Here was what he so desperately needed, and she was saying it was over. He was high on her indeed, but how could true love be a bad thing ?
Rage was his last defense against despair, so as usual, he couldn’t hold it back longer.
“I HAD NOTHING ! YOU CAN’T LEAVE ME ! YOU WON’T ! I WILL TIE YOU UP IF I HAVE TO” he yells, his beloved car moving slightly aside for a second. “YOU’RE MINE ! YOU’RE FUCKING MINE !”
“GOD I HATE YOU !” she shouted.
“DO YOU KNOW HOW YOU MAKE ME FEEL ! I CAN’T FUCKING LIVE WITHOUT YOU !”
“I HATE YOU !” I HATE YOU !” she screamed, tears soaking her face, her tiny fists hitting his shoulder. “LET ME GO ! LET ME GO ! I CAN’T…” her voice started to whistle and she was panting. “I can’t… Let me go… Make it stop… I love you so much it’s killing me…”
That war will never be over. There will never be truce.
Nothing would ever make it better. Holding up seemed impossible, and letting go… Letting go… he just couldn’t think of it.
Smile… I’m begging you baby, smile…
He accelerated again, like he could catch past.
I need your smile to breathe, tell me I didn’t break you that bad… Please.
Please.
Please…
He never deserved her, he never deserved love, he was as bad for her as she was bad for him. But maybe that was the real curse of the Winchesters after all.
Love.
His hands left the steering wheel for a second, just to grip it again, on the left of it. His jaw clenched.
Time slowed and he looked at her one last time, completely ignoring the road go by at a crazy pace before them.
Smile… I’m begging you.
Her wet reddened eyes widenned, looking behind her to the pit on the side of the road.She looked at him again and just let her head fall tenderly on his shoulder.
And he brusquely turned right.
The tires squealed…
This is how it ended.
____________________________
***FEEDBACK IS GOLD***
Forever Tags : @parinarain @animegirlgeeky @mogaruke @masterof-agony @rainflowermoon @tftumblin @deans-baby-momma @roonyxx @thefaithfulwriter @vicariouslythruspn @emeow1496 @daryldixonandfrogs @holylulusworld @cocklesbelli @sandlee44 @mogaruke @screenchingartisancashbailiff @donnaintx @hawaiianohana31 @akshi8278 @magssteenkamp @sister-winchesters99 @neii3n @alanegaming @im-a-shrub @sadwaywardkid @hopelesslydevotedtoyou1912 @slyqueenj @i-love-superhero @waywardsisterandpie @sunsetsandbooks @fangirlxwritesx67 @mrspeacem1nusone @stylesismyhubs @deanwanddamons @jawritter
#jay-and-dean#supernatural#Supernatural Dean Winchester#supernatural fanfiction#dean winchester#dean winchester fic#dean x y/n#dean x reader#angst
206 notes
·
View notes
Text
Call me stupid, call me sad
Nora X Fem!Reader
@writing-asperations I finally finished it
(Your pov)
"Shit shit shit" I mutter, running out of my house, keys in hand. I hop in my car and start it up, looking at the time and cursing myself for sleeping in. I was supposed to be picking up my best friend Nora from work. I was in love with her, but I didn't want to fuck up our relationship. Both of us, along with my sister Abby, and our friends Owen, and Manny have been together since we were in diapers. They were my family, my people. When my parents died in a car crash, they were all I had left. Luckily, Abby and her father took me in, only being 7 when it happened. I can still remember waking up in the car, on our way home from a sleepover with Abby and Nora.
The world was upside down, the smell of gas and burning rubber assault my senses. There's a stinging pain in my right arm. Looking over, I notice large pieces of glass lodged in my upper arm. Before I could even react, something moving catches my eye. It was my mother, her dark skin stained with crimson. From where I wasn't sure.
"Ma?! Wh- you- you're hurt, what's going on?" She looks at me, her eyes brimming with tears. "Darling, I need you to listen to me, can you do that?" I nod my head, not trusting my voice.
"That's my girl. Ok can you reach your seatbelt? Good, good, I want you to unhook yourself and crawl out the window." She says, blood dripping down from her brow. I can hear sirens in the distance. Something in the back of my mind tells me they won't make it in time.
I do as she says, shuffling out the broken window. Once I make it out, I take in the scene before me. The car was completely wrecked, the front looking caved in. There was a fire spreading quickly, lighting up the road. I move over to my mother's side.
"Ma, tell me what to do, how do I get you out?" I sputter out, dropping to my knees as panic takes me in it's embrace.
"Honey no, you've got to get away from here. The gas tank is leaking. I'm not going anywhere, my leg is broken. I'm so sorry baby, you know we love you right?" She chokes out.
"But what about dad, he can help you. I can get him out and we can go get help. You're gonna be ok mommy. I'm strong, I can do something." Tears spill out my eyes, I knew it was worthless, there wasn't enough time.
"No, no your father- he… just, get away from the car, ok? I don't want you getting hurt anymore." The sirens were closer now, lights coming into view.
My mother reaches towards her neck, grasping something and yanking it free. It was my grandfather's necklace, a simple gold Ankh. She grabbed my wrist and placed it in my hand, closing it and kissing my knuckles. I hear her mutter a prayer to the Gods.
"Go, now before it's too late. We will always be with you my little warrior. Be strong and live in the light of the Sun. I love you" with that, she closes her eyes. Despite everything telling me not to, I turn away from her and run as fast as I can, tears streaming down my eyes.
The ambulance finally makes it, the men rush out and begin to make their way to the car. Now on the sidewalk, I watch as the flames reach the gas tank and explode the car.
Shaking my head, I pull out and begin to drive to Nora's job. I was supposed to pick her up from work 15 minutes ago, seeing as I only live 11 minutes away. I was going to take her home and cook for her as usual. She was always hungry after work. Manny and I were the designated chefs for the group, everyone else didn't know the difference between a pot and a pan. I also enjoyed the look on Nora's face when she ate something of mine that she liked.
Hearing my phone go off, I pick it up and answer, putting it on speaker before turning my attention back to the road.
"Hello?" I sound out, not knowing who was on the other end
"(Y/N)! Where the hell are you?! It's been over an hour! I've been blowing up your phone but haven't been able to reach you. What the fuck is taking so long?" Nora's voice filters through the car, bringing a smile to my face.
"Sorry about that doll, I woke up late. I'm on my way, I just got side tracked with… um, some less than pleasant memories. Give me like, 7 minutes and I'll be there ok?" I can hear a sigh escape her, probably catching on to what I was saying.
"Alright, I understand. You know if you need to talk or something you've got me and the guys. You don't have to deal with this alone." She spoke, voice soft and loving. A tear slips down my cheek. Images of a time long passed flash in my mind. The smell of burning flesh is alive as though I was there again.
"Yeah I know… I'm ok though, it just catches me off guard sometimes. I promise I won't be late again." I try to keep the pain out of my voice. This was my problem to deal with, I didn't need to drag any of them down with me. It's been 10 years, I should be over this by now.
"(Y/N), it's not about you being late, I don't care about that, you're hurting. I'm worried about you, Abby told me you haven't been sleeping lately. Going on more and more dangerous jobs, coming home bruised and bloodied. You haven't even been eating properly. I know you, maybe even better than you know yourself. You're going through something serious. You keep pushing us away but I'm not giving up on you." There was a crack in her voice, great, now both of you were crying.
"I- fuck, listen, I can handle this, I'm a warrior, I'm not letting this stop me. I can fight my own demons. I don't need my friends to worry themselves with my issues. Just, leave it alone, please." By now my vision was blurry with tears.
I stop at a red light, taking my hands off the wheel and wiping at my face. I can hear the sound of sniffling coming from my phone and my heart sinks. This is why I don't talk about these things. It only makes matters worse.
"Listen, I'm almost there. I'm gonna pick you up, take you home, make you something to eat and maybe we can talk about it, alright? Now you dry up those tears, you're too beautiful to be sobbin on the side of the street." I manage to get out, hoping that will make her feel better. I hated when she cried. It made me feel like I failed to keep her safe.
"Ok… ok yeah, I'll see you in a sec." She breathes out, clearing her throat. "Hey (Y/N)?"
"Yeah?" The light turns green. I take your foot off the breaks and start driving.
"I love you." Three words, and my brain shuts down. I don't hear the horn honking, I don't see the car coming from my left, all I notice is my breath hitching.
"Just not the same way I love you" I think bitterly, just the car crashes into me, full force. Everything slows down and fades to black.
(Nora's pov)
"I love you." If only I could tell her the truth.
There's silence on the other end before I hear honking and then a crashing sound. My ears ring with white noise as fear overtakes me. She was only down the street at the light, I could hear people screaming faintly. I pocket my phone and take off in the direction the noise was coming from.
"No no no, please. God don't do this to me." I find myself begging. To who, I'll never be sure. I round the corner and dread settles in my bones as I'm faced with a horrific scene. There's a car with it's front crushed like a soda can. I spot (Y/N)'s car a little ways away, the driver's side caved in.
I rush over to the car, her head hanging limp to the side, blood running down her face, staining her shirt. There's sirens in the distance, but all I can focus on is getting her out of the car. The window was cracked but not broken. I can't get the door to open up so I take off my jacket, wrap it around my arm and break the glass. Reaching in I unbuckle her seatbelt and drag her out.
By the time I get her a safe distance away from the car, a paramedic rushes up to me with a bag and a stretcher.
"Ma'am, I need you to step back so I can assess her condition. Do you know this woman?" He asks me, dropping down to his knees to check her pulse.
"I- yes! Yes she's my best friend, please tell me she's going to be alright." I pleaded, feeling useless as I stand there, doing nothing. I know there wasn't anything I could do, but watching her lie there, breathing shallowly, blood pooling under her, I couldn't help but let despair grip my heart.
"It's ok ma'am it seems to me that she is only unconscious. Perhaps she has a concussion. If you'd like, you may ride with us to the hospital to get her checked out." He offers looking up and waving his hand to his partner, signaling her over.
"Yeah I would appreciate that very much. She's only 17 so I'll go ahead and call her legal guardian. He should know what happened here." I speak shakily, reaching into my pocket for my phone to call Abby's dad.
"Mr. Anderson? Hey it's Nora, I'm afraid I've got some bad news. Well uh, (Y/N) got into a wreck- no no she's ok all things considered, just unconscious. A few ribs may be broken but that's about it. Yeah I'm here with the ambulance, we're going to the east side hospital. Ok… yes sir, I'll see you there, drive safe." With that I hang up and follow the paramedics to the ambulance, getting in after them.
-At the hospital-
(Abby's pov)
"Where the fuck is my sister?!" I slam my hands down on the counter in front of me, already getting tired of this bitch of a receptionist.
"Ma'am I already told you, I can't give that information away unless you are a relative of the patient. By your… skin alone, I can tell you have no relation to Miss. (L/N). You are more than welcome to wait until her parents come in." The woman says, turning back to her computer.
"She doesn't have any fucking parents you stupid bitch, check her damn record!" I growl out. I feel a warm hand on my shoulder and turn to see my dad.
"Abby that's enough, let me handle this. Excuse miss, my name is Jerry Anderson, I am (Y/N)'s legal guardian. As my daughter here was trying to say, (Y/N)'s parents died 10 years ago in a car accident, I adopted her and have been her caregiver ever since. Because of the nature of her visit here, we are quite worried about her condition and would like to see her. Now could you please direct me to my daughter's room?" Dad explained.
"Oh yes, I see what you mean Mr. Anderson, my apologies. She is in room 13, it seems she is in good condition, just a concussion. You can use those doors right there and then take a left." She instructs, pointing to a set of double doors.
We make it to (Y/N)'s room and walk in. She's on the bed with a bandage wrapped around her head and a few band-aids scattered around her arms. Sitting in a chair next to the bed is Nora, her face crestfallen as she holds her hand. When she notices us she stands up, coming over to us. I open my arms up, knowing she needs a shoulder to lean on right now.
She fell into my embrace, seemingly losing strength in her legs. I feel tears start to soak my shirt.
"God I'm so sorry, I- I was on t-the phone with her and, and t-then a crash and her car was so fucked I got her away from it but she wasn't breathing r-right and-" she stutters out, choking on her words. I shush her, rubbing circles in her back, trying to get her to calm down.
"Nora it's ok, she's ok, it's only a concussion. You and I both know (Y/N) is a fighter. She'll be up and kicking ass in no time." I speak softly in her ear, looking up to see my dad reading the chart at the end of (Y/N)'s chart. His brow furrows at something he reads.
I push Nora away a bit and wipe the tears from her eyes. "Come on, let go get you cleaned up and put some food in your belly, I know you haven't eaten since before your shift." I tell her, pulling her under my arm and leading her to the cafeteria. She was quiet the whole time, even after we sat down to eat.
"I told her." She whispered softly, head down. She had barely touched her sandwich but I couldn't blame her. I didn't have much of an appetite either.
"What did you tell her?" I ask even though I had an inkling as to what she was referring to. I needed to keep her talking.
She sniffles, wiping at her eyes. "I told her I love her. Right before the car hit her. I heard the crash, I ran down the street and she was just sitting there, blood all over her, not moving. I thought she was dead. I was so scared." Nora's voice breaks at the end. Not knowing what else to do, I shift over and wrap my arms around her. Both these idiots were so madly in love with each other, I could only guess how much pain she was in. I love (Y/N) like she's my own flesh and blood, but what these two have going on? It's a whole nother level. I know for a fact (Y/N) would burn the world down for Nora. If only she could see that Nora feels the same.
Out the corner of my eye, I see my dad approach is looking concerned.
"Hey girls, (Y/N) is up if you want to go see her. I've already talked to her so you three can have some privacy." As soon as he said those words I stood up, grabbing Nora's arm and dragged her to (Y/N)'s room.
-10 minute earlier-
I open my eyes and immediately close them again at the bright lights. I groan and slowly open them again, taking in my soundings. I knew I was in a hospital room by the beeping of the heart monitor. I look to my left and see the only real father I've ever had. He looks up, noticing my movements and grabs my hand.
"Hey sweetie, how are you feeling?" He asks me, concern laced in his voice.
"Like shit." I bluntly say, knowing he would want the truth before anything.
"I know baby girl, but I need to talk to you about something important before I call the doctor in." His eyes held a sadness I hadn't seen in a long time. I nod my head, having an idea where this was going.
"While the doctors here were looking you over, they noticed you were suffering from damn near malnutrition. You had bursies and scars from before the crash. I know you tend to be quite independent, preferring to lick your wounds than ask for help. But honey, this isn't like you. Both you and Abby eat more than a pack of wolves. I want you to tell me what's going on. I know you've been upset recently, but I have never seen you like this." At that, everything I've been keeping in came out.
"I'm so fucking sorry, I'm so sorry. I've been playing somebody else and it's helping nobody. I see her in my head every fuckin day and now I'm sick." I broke down, I told him about everything. The nightmares, the flashbacks. About how I just couldn't feel anymore, how I can't eat without seeing my mother's face. We talked for a while until something hit me.
"Dad, if you're here I know Abby's here, but what about Nora? Is she here too?" I ask him hesitantly. He knew about my crush on Nora, the last thing I needed was for him to tease me. It seems I was in the favor of the Gods today because he simply said,
"Yeah she was the one who called me actually. She had been here before we got here. I'm going to go get them, I'm sure they want to see you." With that he left out the door.
A few minutes later Abby and Nora come through the door, moving to both sides of my bed. Abby looks at me, kisses my forehead, and dips out. I knew what she was doing, I definitely owed her one.
"Hey girly, sorry if I gave you a scare earlier. You know me, I'm a bit of an idiot. Heh" I chuckle, feeling nervous under her intense gaze. She didn't say anything for a bit, just looking at me. I was about to say something else when suddenly she leaned down and pressed her lips to mine.
You know that feeling when you're on a rollercoaster and your stomach drops? Yeah, that's how I felt then. All at once, my pain went away like shadows at noon. I reached up and cupped her cheek, kissing her back like I dreamed of for so many years. I don't know where this was coming from but my mother always told me not to look a gift horse in the mouth. Nothing about that saying made any sense but I understood what she meant.
Nora pulls away, bumping her head aginst mine. I winced at the contact and all too soon she was stepping back.
"Oh shit, I'm sorry I forgot, I-" she spoke with panic in her voice, eyes wide. It was at this moment I took in her appearance.
Her hair was up in its usual ponytail, clothes messy and stained with blood. It was clear she was a mess but she had never looked so beautiful to me.
"Aww, thank you darling, that's so sweet of you." She said suddenly, which was strange considering I didn't say anyt- wait.
"I said that out loud didn't I?" I squeeked, feeling my face darken with embarrassment.
"Yes, you did, but I appreciate the thought." I've never wanted to curl up and die more than now. Actually, that's not true but whatever. There was something that was bothering me and if I didn't say anything now, I'd never find the courage to do so again.
"Did you mean it when you said you love me?" I asked quickly, not wanting to wait any longer. She blinks and pauses, looking caught off guard before laughing to her self.
"You really are an idiot sometimes. Of course I meant it, I literally just kissed you. I've been in love with you since we were 12. Maybe longer." She muttered that last bit.
"By the Gods, you mean to tell me I could have just SAID something to you and I wouldn't have to hide how I feel?! It makes so much sense now, you're always so touchy with me, you always want me to stay over your place. I thought you just liked my food! Oh I'm such an idiot." I rant, feeling irritated with myself.
"You're my idiot. When you get out of here, how about we go out to that new arcade you've been talking about? I was actually going to ask you out today, but ya know, that whole thing happened. Are you down?" She asked me. I look at her in disbelief, then quickly shake my head. Of course she would be the one to make the first move.
"Yeah I'd like that a lot. But you know what I'd like even more?" I ask, looking at her with a hint of mischief in my eyes.
"Hmm, what?" Nora says. I could tell she knew what I was going to say by the way she leaned closer to me.
"This." I whisper, reaching up and grab the back of her neck, pulling her closer to me. As I pressed my lips to hers, for the first time in 10 years, I felt like everything was going to be ok
7 notes
·
View notes
Text
Mars Mission Prompt
A/N: I wrote this on Home Base. These are just random characters. They have no relation to any TV show as far as I know.
Amber smiles at the video, very happy. She waves at the video, even though she's sure she's pre-recorded. Suddenly, she stops. Something in the video sets her on edge. She looks closely next to her friend Kray-Cee.
"That's my face." Amber whispers.
The video-Amber has a smile plastered on her face, but it's obviously fake. A fake smile. Amber practiced when she was very young how to fake emotions. She's still working on crying on command, but every other emotion she has down pat. She knows when her own face is faking something.
"What's going on? Am I a clone of her? Does she know? Or is she a clone of me & she knows who I am? I'm pretty sure I need to know if I'm a clone or have a clone."
She looks again. She's definitely seeing herself. She closes the video to find-
"AMBER!"
Amber falls on the floor in shock.
"Give me a little warning, me!" Amber yells at the doppelganger who has taken up her computer's screen.
The doppelganger frowns, "Listen to me. Call me BC. You aren't in the danger they warned you of. This danger can actually kill you with a knife. You need to recall every rule of self defense & fighting if you want to survive."
Amber glares at BC, "How do I know I can trust you? I can't even trust myself to hang up decorations without setting things aflame!"
BC nods, "True. That was a weird day. I'm a carbon-copy of you. Someone took some of your DNA, made a weapon with it & some crazy science with information of domination or something, which is me, but since I'm part you, I have your memories, abilities, & morals. Plus a few crazy things they shoved into me, like how to hack into anything."
Amber asks, "Who are "They"?"
BC sighs, "Long story. For some reason, you sparked the interest, so they made a few of us- ... you. One more... deadly than the others. She doesn't exactly keep your morals, but she's kind of on our side. We call her CK. No one knows. Not Lynx, not Cray-Cee, no one. You know your headphones you brought?"
Amber nods, "Yeah... Are there sirens on Mars on something?"
BC frowns, "No. The walls have ears and the roof has eyes. Take the headphones, plug them into the phone under your pillow, then hide under the blankets on your bed."
Amber asks, "Wait... Is the bathroom compromised?"
BC hesitantly nods.
"IS NOTHING SACRED?!?!" Amber yells.
BC shrugs, "Apparently they need lessons in manners. I'm running out of time before they can hear & see you again. Remember!"
Suddenly, there's a knocking on the door.
"WHO'S KNOCKING?! I'M ON FLIPPING MARS!" Amber yells.
BC has already turned off the computer, disappearing from Amber's screen.
Amber puts a rebreather in her mouth & opens the door to find a girl passing out, collapsing into her arms. Amber drags the girl away from the door and closes it. Those blue clothes & blue hair make Amber sigh in annoyance. She pulls the rebreather out of her mouth.
"Moonwatcher. My former roommate. What are you doing here? Better question, how did you get here?" Amber frowns.
She drags her to the bed, only for Moonwatcher to shudder out of Amber's arms. Amber drops the shuddering girl. Moonwatcher opens her eyes, only for them to be glowing red.
"Now that is creepy. What happened to you? Please don't tell me you've been taken over by a Goa'uld from that show Stargate." Amber begs.
Moonwatcher laughs in a creepy deep voice.
"You aren't easing my nerves! Goa'uld have that voice thing too!" Amber screams.
Suddenly, she hears a voice in her earpiece.
"She's not really your friend! She's a fake!"
Amber gasps as she recognises her own voice coming from her earpiece.
"Throw something at her, then pretend she broke a curse by breaking it! It works wonders!"
Amber sighs & picks up the hand mirror from her bed it at Moonwatcher. Moonwatcher smashes the mirror with ease.
"Oh no! You broke the mirror of Taiki!" Amber panics.
Moonwatcher asks, "What?"
"You know, ancient artifact I took with me from earth, terrible curse if you break it? I told you this before, Luna."
Moonwatcher frowns, "I know many magic. There is no such thing."
Amber jumps onto the roof, thanks to the low gravity.
"Good luck with the curse, then!"
Moonwatcher panics, "What kind of curse?"
Amber smirks, "Grave misfortune, increased gullibility, a swift kick to the ribs!"
"I got that reference!"
Moonwatcher goes to say something when Amber kicks her in the ribs then tries to rip out her hair. Suddenly, Moonwatcher convulses & disappears.
"That is creepy. I don't think I'll be sleeping tonight." Amber frowns.
"Probably best. Don't respond to me. Everyone saw what happened."
Amber picks up the mirror pieces & puts them on her desk.
"Where's the 4th wall? I'm not sure which one to stare at when making a point & speaking to myself." Amber jokes.
There is a lot of laughing coming from her earpiece.
"For a girl who thinks she was sent to Mars on a mission of exploration instead of to a Hunger Games-like tournament, you have a good sense of humour."
Amber pales, then takes off the earpiece & puts her headphones on, pulls out her phone, plugs it in, hides under her blankets on her bed, then switches her phone full of music for the phone under the pillow.
"U better have a good explanation for this, BC. Was it U talking into my earpiece when Moony was attacking?"
BC texts back, "Nope. That's CK. The dangerous one. I'm afraid she's right. Earth sent U on a suicide mission. U want to survive? Listen to everything I tell U. Find a way off this planet! & don't die!"
Amber gulps.
***
"Do you think she'll be up to it?" A girl with blonde hair and blue eyes asks.
BC answers, "She has to be. She's the only one that can survive being attacked at random moments. You know what her siblings are like. It takes a lot to just duck an arm coming towards the back of your head on the lounge or just by walking. & that's just from the Tourrettes. You've barely survived your place, Butterfly."
"Butterfly" groans, "It's Bracha. They toughened me up. Did you tell her about me?"
BC shakes her head, "I told her no one knows, & not to trust anyone."
Bracha nods, "Good. If she knows I know, she'll trust the shapeshifters that look like me."
CK smirks, "She'll survive. She knows how to keep sane. When you're alone, you need to learn to laugh at everything, or you lose your mind or get depressed. Neither option is wanted."
BC nods, "She's got a point. I'm glad Amber watched that episode of DS9. Let's hope she'll survive. The Earth needs her... & her friends."
The clones & normal girl frown in anger.
***
"She fought 37 quite well. & defeated her." A deep voice smirks.
The Moonwatcher duplicate begs, "Please forgive me. She was quite skilled. I had no chance against her!"
"Am I hearing excuses? Hunter! Take 37 to the exercise room." The voice smirks.
37 gasps, "NO! I'll do anything! Just don't take me to the exercise room!"
Hunter grabs 37 and drags her away. The voice laughs at the clone's screams. He turns to the real Moonwatcher hanging by cuffs on her arms.
"You'll never get away with this, Damian!" Moonwatcher glares with her sharp blue eyes.
She may not like the clones, but they didn't deserve this treatment.
Damian laughs, "& who is going to stop me? Amber? You? Earth? You are all pathetic & would never stand a chance against me."
Moonwatcher growls as Damian strokes her hair. She goes to bite him & gets a smack right across her face.
"Know your place. You are nothing!" Damian glares.
Moonwatcher continues hanging by her chains, a frown permanently on her face.
"Please Amber, help us." She whispers.
She starts singing softly.
"Feel the sting of the whip on my shoulder
With the salt of my sweat on my brow
Elohim, Adonai, can you hear your people cry?
Help us now
This dark hour, deliver us
Hear our call, deliver us
Lord of all remember us, here in this burning sand
Deliver us, there's a land you promised us
Deliver us to the promised land
Eldihato vera
Ahatira vertiva
My son, I have nothing I can give
But this chance that you may live
I pray we'll meet again if he will deliver us
Deliver us
Hear our prayer, deliver us
From despair,
These years of slavery grow too cruel to stand
Deliver us, there's a land you promised us
Deliver us out of bondage and
Deliver us to the promised land
Hush now, my baby, be still now, don't cry
Sleep as you're rocked by the stream
Sleep and remember my last lullaby
So I'll be with you when you dream
River, oh river, flow gently for me
Such precious cargo you bear
Do you know somewhere he can be free?
River, deliver him there
Deliver us!"
She feels tears running down her face.
She prays, "Anyone who can hear, deliver us out of here."
These characters are just based off people on Home Base except for Damien and Hunter. I literally googled scary names for those two.
1 note
·
View note
Text
The Right Track (Sequel Of Love Hate F****** Heartbreak)
Fandom: Twilight
Pairing: Paul x reader
Summary: After the night of which you and Paul’s arguements reached a new low, you deal with the aftermath in your own way. What will happen when your imprint appears and you must now face the anguish the both of you have suffered from a 'needed’ time apart.
PART ONE
When you fell into restless sleep as you finally got home that fateful night, you promised yourself that you would not give in to the call of your imprint. He needs to learn his lesson, and you've been doing well for nearly a week now. You've been avoiding Emily's and Kim's and even the beach. You felt bad at first for seemingly ignoring your friends, but you knew that they understood your stand of silence and they were all proud of you for finally sticking up for yourself. Every night, Emily would call to check up on you and your heart would clench when you could hear his begging in the background.
"Is that (Y/N)? Let me talk to her! Please, baby please talk to me!"
Tears would stream down your face and you would hang up automatically. Then about 5 days in, the pain of the distance from your wolf sets in at full force. You whimper and toss and turn at night, and past your cries you could hear a wolf howl in pain as well. It's killing you to be away from him, but you couldn't bare to go back to how things were. No fucking way. Day 7 is when it seems he's had enough of you distancing yourself. You're in the shower, numbly going through the motions of your personal hygiene when your curtain is ripped back and you shriek.
Your jaw falls open at how wrecked your boyfriend looks right now. His eyes are red and bloodshot with heavy bugs under his eyes. His normal copper skin a now sickly shade of grey, and he hasn't shaved. You shudder when you look into his eyes, you've never seen Paul look so feral. You stay silent, not knowing how to handle the situation at the moment. He hands you your towel before stepping away so you could get out. The tension is suffocating, and you find yourself trembling as you brush past him into your bedroom.
He stands in the doorway, brooding. You don't pay him any mind as you dig through drawers to find a new set of clothes, suddenly feeling vulnerable while only being clad in a towel. His gaze nearly scorches you and he finally sighs before plopping down on the edge of your bed.
"Just tell me what I can do to make this better."
You don't answer for a moment, collecting your thoughts.
"Listen Paul I-. I just need time."
You hear the bed creek and suddenly two tanned arms wrap around your waist. You flinch and hurry to put some distance between you and the temperamental wolf of yours. You don't need to look at Paul to know the very hurt expression that most certainly covers his face as of now.
"And space."
You turn to walk back into the bathroom, yearning for privacy to dress when his hoarse voice shatters the tense silence.
"No."
You stop and turn to look at him, a little pissed and a lot confused. Paul takes merely two steps into your personal space, chest to- well your chest only reaches his upper torso. His eyes are only burning black, his whole body tensed. You ache to reach out and gently smooth the creases from his face, but your pride and wounded-self holds you back.
"What the hell do you mean no?"
"I mean," he grabs you around your waist to pull you into his embrace to bury his face into your hair, "No."
And then he crashes his lips into yours for a bruising kiss. You struggle in his hold, trying not to succumb to the siren call of the annoying ass imprint bond. Paul breaks the kiss, but only holds you tighter so you cannot get away from him. It takes you a moment to register the shaking and the deep breaths. You only struggle harder and finally he relents, you taking an immediate step back.
"I swear to fucking god, Paul, if you shift in my- oh my god are you crying?"
Paul just stares back at you with tears running down his face before he collapses to the ground in gut-wrenching sobs. You open and close your mouth a few times before moving closer your despairing soulmate, and he immediately grabs your hips and buries his face into your stomach.
"Please, please, don't push me away anymore. I'll do anything baby, I really will. Just not that. Please don't make me be alone, I can't even breath without you. It hurts so bad," his tearful mumbles and little hiccups break your resistance and you find yourself stroking through his hair while gently soothing him.
"Shh, shh. You're not alone Paul, you still have the pack," he lifts his face from your now tear-sodden towel and the look of utter hopelessness steals both your words and your breath away.
"It's not the same. Please (Y/N), you can't say you haven't felt it too. I just miss you so bad. I miss you sleeping next to me, and the way you smile and laugh at my dumb jokes. Please, I promise I'll be good."
Damn, imprint.
"Alright, Paul, I won't push you away anymore," He jumps up to pull you into his arms but you hold up a hand to signal that you weren't through talking yet. Paul's tongue darts out to wet his bottom lip, nervously, and you have to look away to clear your train of thought.
"We are going to set a few boundaries though." Paul nods enthusiastically and pulls you to sit next to him on the bed.
"Number one, no more alcohol. You have no filter sober, so lets not test your motormouth anymore. Number two, no more degrading comments or orders. Last time I checked, I am not your bitch, so don't treat me like one. I'm not fetching you beers or being your punching bag for when you can't handle shit. Number three," You nervously glance up at his sincere eyes for this next one, "no sex. For a while." You can see his reaction, his form turning rigid. This one would definitely be a challenge, but hey it wasn't just going to be hard for him. Since Paul is no good at expressing his feelings, he often uses sex to communicate his inner emotions. So with no sex, he's taken out of his comfort zones and forced to man up and talk shit out.
"I'm not just saying that to be a jerk, Paul. Believe me, it's hard for me as well. But even though my body physically reacts to you and the bond, I'm just not ready mentally to be intimate with you yet. You really hurt me, and distancing myself from the throes of passion is the only chance at salvaging this relationship." You finally look at him, gauging his reaction to whether or not to move any fragile items from his arms' reach. He stays tense for a moment, eyes burning a hole into your worn down rug but finally he turns to you with a guarded expression.
"Alright. But with one condition," you raise your eye-brow and straighten your posture.
"I get to sleep in your bed with you at night. Don't even look at me like that, I damn well know that you haven't slept well in days and neither have I. So before both of us lose our minds, just concede to that at least."
You can't help the tick of your jaw as you catch the slight order, but you know he's right and his cocky ass already knows it too.
"Glad to see the confident side of you again love," you roll your eyes, " _fine,_but no funny business Lahote. I mean it."
Before he could say anything else, you pull your clothes to your chest and walk into your bathroom. Paul shakes his head with a chuckle and a small smile, hopeful that he and you were on the right track again.
"Wouldn't dream of it baby!" He calls as he finally relaxes into your blankets, the smell of you instantly chasing away the dark loneliness that he's been plagued with ever since the night he fucked up. And even though you're trying to restrain yourself from jumping back into the madness that is Paul Lahote, you allow your self a similar hopeful smile in the bathroom mirror.
The right track indeed...
Taglist:
@redgirl818 @kennie-hufflepuff @reallykosborne @cookiecakeslive
#paul lahote#Paul lahote/ reader#Paul lahote x reader#We need more Paul content#twilight#Sequel#Love Hate F****** Heartbreak#angst#All the feels#Happy ending#I guess#Enjoy!#werewolf#werewolves#wolf pack#imprint#Sam uley#Seth clearwater#Embry call#Quil Atera#Bella swan#Edward cullen#Leah clearwater#Jared cameron#carlise cullen#esme cullen#rosalie hale#emmet cullen#Jasper hale#alice cullen
297 notes
·
View notes
Text
Supposed to be the Good One
Author’s Note: I truly wish that Hirst would stop making the women so fucking vulnerable. Margarethe could have been so powerful. So yeah, here is Y/N perspective of it. I hope you enjoy. For the first time, Ubbe was on my bad side lol I just tagged some regs.
Warnings: Angst, Drabble, Language
Summary: An Alternate Universe in where Ubbe caught it.
They returned from battle, beaten and worn. The children in the corner and your sword at the ready. There was no telling how quickly the overzealous new King of Kattegat would arrive. “Shh,” you told the two in the corner.
They sat with their wooden swords and toys as the robust jeer of the crowd grew louder and louder and the door opened. Torvi. You’d seen the kiss. Witnessed the hand holding but men like him, Princes like him took more than one wife all the time, Torvi wasn’t a bad catch. You hold the sword high, not taking her unfriendly stance.
“Where are my children?” She says moving towards you with a wavering sword and a diluted mind.
You step back confused. “There.”
Ubbe stands behind her. His guilt filled eyes on the wooden floor as he sheathes his sword and grabs the bag. “Y/N pack your bag. We must leave. Ivar will be here.”
“We are running in defeat.”
“We are running in defeat and for our safety.”
“He is your brother.” You try to reason. “He doesn’t wish to see you dead.”
“he seen it with Sigurd.” Ubbe pushes pass you. “Y/N gather your things, now.” It was not a wish but certainly a command. He moves a few things tossing them into his bag grabbing his cloak and you still stand confused. “Did you not hear me?”
“Perhaps you are not listening to me? I am your wife. We should leave undoubtedly so, I will pack.” You move with haste and turn to Torvi who has started gathering her children and their things as well as taken a stance next to your husband you are not okay with, “But we must first talk of what this is? I am to play second to the woman of your brother.”
“She is not my brother’s woman. She fell in battle.” Ubbe explains.
You do not care to delve any deeper into what Ubbe is describing. Your mind before they journeyed together in the civil war had been made, you would accept a sister wife as fair as Torvi. She was an honorable woman, a fierce shield maiden. But you would not be set aside. You were his wife.
“The mother of his children then.”
“I wish to be with her.” He explains simply. He does not make eye contact once again, the guilt bleeds through his frustrated groans and huffs as he makes his way over to you and pulls you from the fire. “We do no have time to discuss this now, we must move.”
“Then when? Then where?”
“Gather your things.” His hands dug into your shoulders. “Now or do you want to make this hard.”
“Hard!”
“I beg your pardon! Nothing has been harder than watching you fall in love with another woman before my eyes. Nothing has been more despairing than watching you treat me as if it was not I who laid claim to your heart first. I will not allow her to take my husband. I will not allow you to choose her.”
“You are mad.” Ubbe groans. He steps over you and motions Torvi and her two children out of the room. “Listen to me, Y/N this is not the time. This is not the fuck-,”
Your hand connects with his face before you can think. The loud smack revolving around the apartment before the words could drop from his treacherous mouth. “I will not be made a fool. You claim there is no time… but there is time.” He stands before you shocked, with wide Tenerife blue eyes holding his bearded face. “Tell me how long you have laid with her?”
“Y/N.”
“You are supposed to be the good one.” Your voice shatters. “I was courted by all of the Lothbrok men and you were supposed to be the good one. I will not be treated in this manner. I will not be demanded around as if I am not a free woman, as if I am some slave. If it Is your intention to make her your wife, look me in my fucking eyes coward and leave me in Kattegat.”
“I,” his words are clipped. Limited almost.
“Are not the man you promised me that you would be Ubbe Lothbrok.” You smile pushing the tip of the sword under his chin. “Leave this place, before the blade that spills your blood is not your brother’s.”
TAGGING: @ivarsshieldmadien @equalstrashflavoredtrash @whenimaunicorn @akamaiden @siren-queen03 @titty-teetee @sparklemichele @oddsnendsfanfics @imgoldielikehawn @lisinfleur @greennightspider @tomarisela @scumyeol @raindrop-dewdrop @naaladareia @vikingsmania @readsalot73 @amour-quinn @wheredidallthedreamersgo @unsure-but-trying @ceridwenofwales @leaderradiante @microsmacrosandneedles @valynsia @captstefanbrandt @therealcalicali @lol-haha-joke @b-j-d @cinnabearice @tephi101 @grungyblonde @bluearchersstuff @ivarslittlebadgirll @igetcarriedawaywithyou @earthsmightiestasses @sincerelysinister @dangerousvikings @queen-see-ya-in-valhalla @ivaraddict @tgrrose @pixiedustandfairywings @thevikingsheaux
#vikings#laketaj24#ubbe#ubbe x you#ubbe x Y/N#ubbe x reader#vikings fanfiction#vikings fanfic#vikings fandom#ubbes wolfpack#ubbe ragnarsson#laketa j writes
185 notes
·
View notes
Text
Gloomy Days VIII
Chapter X / VIII (or so) – The Graceless Knight / Radiance
Sorry for the cliffhanger in the last chapter.
“Angel, angel, what have I done?
I’ve faced the quakes, the wind, the fire
I’ve conquered country, crown, and throne
Why can’t I cross this river?
Pay no mind to the battles you’ve won
It’ll take a lot more than rage and muscle
Open your heart and hands, my son
Or you’ll never make it over the river
It’ll take a lot more than words and guns
A whole lot more than riches and muscle
The hands of the many must join as one
And together we’ll cross the river”
Puscifer – The Humbling River
Things were not always what they seemed to be. And even an affliction as powerful as hopelessness, nourished by shadows whispering of conspiracy, might not always be what one thought of them. Voices grew ever louder, so loud indeed that he wanted to press his hands on his ringing ears and close his eyes shut. Be done with it. Leave this place. The words were spoken, the new bond established. Was a life of hopelessness even worth living? He had to make this decision as soon as he left.
“What’s this supposed to be?!”
“It’s against all of our island’s traditions!”
“I don’t think that this is even a wedding song.”
“Impudence, I tell you!”
“Father, do something about that!”
What’s that? Even a mind as far gone as the cook’s was able to recognise that these voices were not happy. Quite the contrary, the tone they carried was irate, affronted, enraged, confused. Something didn’t go according to a plan. Whatever it was, there seemed to be enough of a reason to call out to the person of the highest authority present. To their surprise, he didn’t seem to care. Raising his sonorous voice, it seemed as if he was taking his place as a staunch defender of whatever it was that was going on.
“Honoured guests, I beg you: In this very moment, every voice has a right to be heard. Even those who left our lives may speak if their cause is just, the only requirement is for them to be given a voice. This might just be the case.”
What was all of this supposed to mean? The ceremony was at an end, both must have said ‘yes’ to each other. They were man and wife now. She was gone, forever. Why was it, though, that he couldn’t shake off the feeling of warmth caressing his skin? He was sure that a storm was raging on the outside, the mortal enemy of the sun, forbidding her to bring light to those in need. Yet, his skin felt as if he was embraced by loving arms, a shiver went through him as his mind tried to make sense of all the contradicting signals his ears gathered and his subconscious mind interpreted. He shouldn’t feel good. There was no warmth left in this world, at least not for him, not on this occasion. Yet, he couldn’t shake it off and ban it from his thoughts. Something was in the air, so thick that one might even be able to cut it with a knife. Something that should be forgotten, a remnant of a past he desperately wanted to forget. A very special something that was not allowed to emerge from memories clouded. Still, it did. After all these terrible memories that haunted him, he had forgotten that the world was not always dark. Even within these gloomy days.
Slowly, step by step, his mind was creeping back out of its shell. He didn’t want it to, but the siren’s song was too strong. The voices that cried out against this ‘impudence’ were still prevalent, but resistance was raised. It all began with one single voice that took a stand against the evergrowing darkness of his mind, one that he heard somewhere before, singing words that he was all too familiar with. It shouldn’t be, yet it was.
“Yo-hohoho, Yo-hohoho .. Yo-hohoho, Yo-hohoho ..”
Were one voice was raised, others were soon to follow. The source of the warmth that was touching his skin wasn’t sunlight, but sound. The lonely voice was, at first, accompanied by only a piano and a few violins.
Music was proven to have an unbelievable impact on the human mind. Depending on the song chosen, a plethora of emotions could occur within the listener. These days, sadness, depression and longing for reclusion were most prevalent in the cook’s life. This particular one, though, had other things in mind. Its purpose was to lift spirits, to create purpose within a life that seemingly didn’t have one.
More voices were joining. They knew the lyrics by heart. Every single of them knew. His ears caught the most unlikely of voices first, deep and booming. It belonged to the marimo. Even he knew.
“Going to deliver Bink’s Sake! Following the sea breeze! Riding on the waves! For across the salty depths! The merry evening sun!”
The swordsman was not alone. More voices chimed in and it felt as if Sanji’s very heart itself was beginning to move to these forgotten, ancient tunes. Numbed senses returned, were driven out of a hell hole that seemed so devoid of hope. He just let it happen.
“The birds sing as they draw circles in the sky!”
Usopp, Franky .. am I dreaming?
“Farewell to the harbor, to my old hometown!”
Even Chopper. None of them has forgotten.
Soon enough, he heard all of them.
“Let’s all sing out with the Don! As the ship sets sail! Waves of gold and silver dissolve to salty spray! As we all set sail to the ends of the sea! Going to deliver Bink’s Sake!”
Robin .. Luffy .. they’re all here. For the sake of all of us. Within these halls, we are reunited and reborn into the light. An ethereal moment, but it is so real that I might be able to grasp it with my own two hands ..
“We are pirates, sailing through the Sea! The waves are our pillows, the ship our roost! Flying the proud skull on our flags and our sails!”
The cook’s own voice was the last to join, unrestrained and invigorated. His world might have succumbed to darkness, but in this very moment, they were with him and he was with them.
“Now comes a storm through the far-off sky! Now the waves are dancing, beat upon the drums! If you lose your nerve, this breath could be your last! But if you just hold on, the morning sun will rise!
Yo-hohoho, Yo-hohoho
Yo-hohoho, Yo-hohoho
Yo-hohoho, Yo-hohoho
Yo-hohoho, Yo-hohoho ..”
Finally, the inevitable end of the song was here. The moment of warmth and unity would be gone, too, in just a second.
But it was a hallmark of the Straw Hat’s to defy fate whenever they could. Facing impossible odds was what made them what they were, what some of them still are, even to this day.
Sanji could still feel the backdrop of despair, the desperation that held dominion over his heart and mind. But he wasn’t alone anymore.
“Forgive my discourtesy, navigator-san. I felt that it was necessary to give our bard a voice, for he does not have one of his own anymore. And .. Nami ..”, her use of her real name was something out of the orderly. What was happening? Had it been Robin’s voice, the female voice that answered with a ‘yes’, shortly before the song was played?
“I beg your forgiveness again, but I feel inclined to share his opinion.”
The bride’s face went pale as she heard these words, she turned around to her former captain, her surrogate father, to look for help. She found him smiling. Not his signature, broad smile, though, but a thoughtful and reflective one. His voice resonated with it. Even though he was reunited with crew and crown again, it seemed as if his subconscious mind didn’t find cheerfulness fitting for the occasion.
“She is right, Nami. You do not belong here. You weren’t made for this life. Just take a look at yourself. The shivers that went through your body when Bink’s Sake was played. Your body still remembers where you’re supposed to be. You were born to sail this world, with us! We’ll always be with you, Nami, our dreams were made to complement each other’s.”
Sanji couldn’t believe what he was hearing. Robin AND Luffy both decided to speak up against her marriage instead of being staunch supporters of her choice?
An old saying told that even the darkest hours of the day were only preceding the break of dawn.
Three voices joined together to push the thick clouds apart, as to make way for the sun’s rays to grace the earth once again. They were not alone.
The cook’s head twirled around as he heard another chair being pushed back, another person standing up for what he thought was the right thing. He had put on his black sunglasses, possibly to cover the fact that he was crying an endless river of tears. No one was tricked by that, yet he went with it.
“Sis, sis, I’m sorry! So sorry! I arrived to support you, I’m still here to do that! It is just my heart that’s telling me that the backing you need should lead you into another direction! Freedom, sis, is what you need! Sailing the Blues again, visiting strange islands, drawing your maps right where their source is, that’s the freedom I’m talking about! I just can’t help the feeling that you’re chaining yourself by going through with this marriage, you’re giving up your freedom and condemn yourself to a prison cell with a nice view.”
Luffy .. Robin .. Franky .. even Brook from beyond the grave. Is that really what all of you think? Didn’t .. didn’t we come to help her? Or is this what you consider helping? Now, all of a sudden, we’re acting like .. like family again. Did something happen? Is none of you able to remember the past? These terrible days that tore us apart? Why, now, do you want to bring them back? I don’t understand ..
Franky didn’t waver, an impressive sight to behold and reason enough for Luffy to finally show his smile again. Was the past coming back to life again? Even if it was, not all about this was good. When his eyes found the goddess again, it was clear as day that she was close to tears. Maybe because she felt betrayed by her friends. The very same friends she invited to have their support while moving on to a new life. That was most likely, wasn’t it? Her skin was pale, her eyes watery, yet she didn’t speak. Maybe because she knew that right now, she wouldn’t have control over her voice. A welcome opportunity for .. the next one to stand up.
Even in his small form, the impact his voice made was clearly visible as most of the groom’s side of guests sharply inhaled. Contrary to that, children found it incredibly cute, but that didn’t take the gravity from his words.
“Nami, when we were young, we all set out to see the world, to chase our dreams as if there was no tomorrow. I .. I just know that you haven’t forgotten what you were once dreaming of. I’m sure that you haven’t forgotten all the things we lived through, that brought us together, forged bonds that would never truly break. It is not only your purpose that’s still out there, it’s not only your dreams that have been buried alive! It’s not too late, Nami, not at all! A .. a friend told me that we’re still young enough to change our ways again. Our dreams are still waiting out there, on the sea. If we don’t even try to seize them now, they’ll be gone forever. I’ve known you for many years now, Nami, and it’s the same for you as for the rest of us. If we don’t take the opportunity that is given to us right at this moment, we will spend the rest of our lives asking the same question every day: What could have been? I, for one, would never be able to forgive myself, letting the chance pass to just know what life has still in store for us.”, the small reindeer was taking a deep breath, the smallest and youngest of them all was a shining example of what idealism really meant. Having travelled with them, he knew how to reach their hearts. Once more unto the breach, dear friends, once more! Another put his strength to the test against the rising tide. His voice echoed in these halls and in the cook’s mind aswell.
“He’s right, Nami. You know that as well as I do, as all of us do. Whatever action you’re taking, it’s just a band-aid to keep the things you earnestly desire at bay.”, some voices from the groom’s side were trying to interrupt him, only to be .. looked at. And within this instant, all the stories he told about himself became nothing but the truth. A terrifying warrior that sailed all over the Grand Line, facing down monsters and tyrants, pushing onward into the gaping mouth of the abyss itself. It wasn’t quite the famed Colour of the Conquering King, no, but the easily forgotten yet still burning spirit of a mighty warrior of the sea, easily overshadowed when compared to the inhuman strength of his former crew mates, but a shining beacon of might when standing on its own. In fact, reaching this state of mind, reflecting it within his deeds, could have even been considered more than the monstrous strength that his captain, the swordsman and the cook were famous for. Because he was just a man, yet he still gave no quarter.
The brave knew fear, but despite it, they fought on.
“Nami, we’re not going to live forever, but don’t we owe it to our dreams to go on, to carry the flame for those about to follow? Forgive me, Nami, but a recent revelation .. just puts me into a position that is close to yours. I have more reason to stay than I could explain right now, yet I still hear the call. It’s been growing louder ever since we were separated and I’m sure that it’s going to consume my heart if I don’t act according to it. It’s been too long, but our time has come again. Allow yourself to act. And .. as a last, humble request from someone who has been your friend over all these years, please, I beg for you to find .. find forgiveness in your heart. Not for our sake, not even for his, but for yours. Your heart might be mended through forgiveness. Give it a chance to breathe again. It will remember.”
Forgiveness .. what’s he talking about ..
Seeing all of his old friends again, making a stand to do what’s right, he felt as if he was going back in time. Back then, this was what they did. They were game changers and breakers, no matter the situation. All of them together had the power to force the winds of destiny to change its course. A tyrant of terrifying power was no match for the combined strength of the Straw Hats, even when the sun was out of sight, they still carried the torch. Not only for themselves, but for everyone around. Freedom was for everyone, injustice had to be fought. Every life had a right to follow its dreams. Back then, when their hearts were will pounding as one.
It’s not enough. It can never be enough. All the things I did can never be forgiven. This attempt is futile.
His heart wasn’t into his thoughts, though. Yet he was unable to speak up. A fact that did not go unnoticed.
“Do I have to fight all of your battles, idiotic, weak erocook?”
Even .. even that one? But should .. should I really be surprised? He always stood when it was necessary.
That was indeed what he was doing, not only pushing his chair back, but rising with such an outburst of force that it was thrown to the ground. His face a reflection of both annoyance, irritation and genuine care for those around him. A rare mixture, but perfectly fitting for this man.
“Guess that after this is over, you’re going to charge me big time, woman. But witnessing that some of us are still unable to find their backbone, I’m without option. Our nakama are right. This is not what you were born to do, yet they somehow forget one more important fact. One that I remember all too well. Coming here, I didn’t know what to expect of your groom, to be honest, but having met him I can say that .. well, he’s a nice guy, promising you a safe future. Nami, that’s neither what you want nor what you need. Am I the only one who’s able to recall your face and all the tears you cried when this thrice-damned erocook left the crew? Am I the only one who couldn’t have a nap because he heard you crying? Goddamn, Nami! I know it and you know it, too! The man you’re about to marry isn’t half as big as he needs to be to fill the blank spaces that this idiot left!
I’m not going to beg your forgiveness for telling you the damn truth, woman. And neither am I going to waste the rest of my life regretting that I remained silent when I was supposed to speak up. You damn well hear the storm outside, don’t you? I know that your heart’s longing to fight it, to navigate a ship through it, to show that we’re superior to everything this world can throw at us! It pains me to see that you’re too stubborn to admit it! It pains me that the both of you are still too god damn stubborn to go where the wind takes you! I’m not your fucking parent, I can’t and won’t tell you which way to go, but I can’t be the only one who knows that we were born to go wherever life will lead us. Believe me, I’m regretting this step even in this very moment, but you just have to open your damn eyes to see the truth.”
His face had become red from all the suppressed and now finally freed fury that was raging through his body and mind. Now, he raised a hand to point at Sanji before he continued.
“This man, Nami, is the one you’re looking for. Gods know what must be wrong with you, but he’s the one you’re looking for. And you’re the one he’s wasting his life dreaming of. How could I ever come to respect this idiot again without the strength he used to have? YOU, god damn woman, were the fire that raged in his soul! And he was all the shelther you ever needed! You can’t be so blind as to make this unseen.
Picture home, Nami, just do it for a damn moment! Picture home! What is it that you see? A big old house in the countryside? I bet it’s not! We are where you’re at home! The Sunny, the smell of tangerines in the air, the water’s salt on your tongue and within your nostrils! This is what you consider home. Riding on top of a storm, besting the tempests like a deranged, mad goddess with some damn knight at your side! Just admit it, woman, and keep in mind that whatever you say, there’s no going-back from that. But .. but also keep in mind that however deep you’re going to fall if you take this step, we’re here to catch you, we will soften your fall. Until the last of our days.
You are the spark, Nami, but what good is a spark without kindling? Come back home.”
Sanji couldn’t believe the things he just witnessed. It was too much, took him by surprise and the unexpected heat that the swordsman put into his words was more than he could ever hope for. It was not as much that hope had been given to his heart, no, but the sheer force of their combined speeches had burned out the dominating hopelessness that had settled for his heart and mind. Control over his body was gone when he himself rose. It didn’t end there. His steps were staggering, aiming for the space that was left open between the sides of bride and groom. Somewhere in his subconscious mind, he knew that his was the place he was supposed to be. One last time in the spotlight before an inevitable demise.
If it really is inevitable. Could it be that my mind has become so accustomed to the thought that I am unable to see another way out of this situation? A thousand and more words have been spoken, they have been thought. Was it speaking to the marimo that set things in motion? Was it her invitation? Our paths might not be predetermined by destiny or any other higher force, but the things set in motion could have hardly occured at random. These pieces were made to fit together perfectly. Robin was her maid of honour, I don’t think that it had been her plan all along to talk her out of the wedding. Luffy’s spirit was broken, up until the very moment he was reunited with the crown that has always been his. Franky, Chopper, Usopp .. I don’t know. I didn’t know that they cared so much, even though I should have.
All eyes were on him when he met the center of his ‘stage’. But except for the loveliest pair of two brown eyes, they did not mean anything to him. These past thirty minutes or so where enough of a time for him to make a decision. He came back from the verge of breaking, walked away from the abyss, molded with the always prevalent yet new found knowledge of companionship that strengthened his back, that poured fuel into the smouldering embers of his soul.
If I go, I’ll go with a clear conscience. I will go with the knowledge that I’ve given my all. Might it be that I’m not standing all alone?
The one appropriate thing to do was to fall to his knees. After all, he was a knight trying to have semi-religious dialogue with the goddess he swore to serve.
“Nami-san .. if it is your will, these words of mine shall be the last for you to ever hear from my mouth. I will gladly abide your wish, as I always have. My only request is for my voice to be heard. One last time.”
Another murmur went through the groom’s side, this time though, it was more prevalent than before. All the others had spoken up against the marriage, yet they were ‘just’ friends. Something about this man, his kneeling, his language and the look of utter, selfless admiration on his face, made him stand out of the crowd. He was not just another friend, but a contestant! Someone who might have had it in his hands to change the course of this day. In retrospective, everybody must have known. Even the marimo, as he was the one who finally managed to make him raise his voice.
“We’ve all heard it now, you’re against my son’s marriage. Now sit down and let them commence, your concerns have been heard and none will pay any more attention to them!”, the enraged voice of an elderly man was raised, obviously being Cassian’s father. His face was red with enragedness and his voice was venom. The woman to his left, who might have been quite beautiful in her younger days, was red with anger aswell, but only nodded to her supposed husband’s remarks. Others followed.
“What an impudent whelp!”
“Who does he think he is?!”
“Let’s just get this over with and throw him out, shall we?”
All these words made the next voice even more remarkable. It might have been the long-haired clergyman’s duty to speak up against them, to tell them that their traditions dictated for everyone to be heard, yet he shrouded himself in silence. Instead, the most unlikely person of them all rushed to his aid. A voice that demanded obedience, even from those who most likely stood above the speaker, used by the one man his mind had fashioned as the enemy’s accursed champion.
“Father, dear friends, I admire your defence of this marriage, but I want you - I need you - to remain silent.
I want this man to be heard. Here, before the eyes and ears of gods and men. I might not like the prospect of his speech, but in front of you kneels a man who knows that adversity and existence are one and the same. Of his past, I know nothing. Yet I am able to see a mountain that defies the consuming sea.”
It is absolutely needless to say that his words sent a shock through everyone present. Immediate stillness fell upon the room. His parents went pale, words that were about to be spoken faced eternal damnation. Robin’s eyes widened, as did Luffy’s smile. The only face he wasn’t able to read was the one of the bride herself. Too many emotions rushed through her eyes.
“May your words be heard, my friend. Make them count.”
An unexpected turn of events, an uneasy alliance even .. so confusing indeed, that Sanji lost his ability to speak for a few seconds. Were the gods mocking him?
You’ve been given a chance. Make the most of it. The only way to earn salvation is to endure. The terrors that haunt us at night are nothing but rain in the forest, but fog before sunrise. I .. I feel it. Every inch of my body resonates with their words. I was standing at the very precipice of oblivion for so long that I had all but forgotten about the light. I am not alone. I never was.
“Nami-san, it feels as if I’m reliving countless dreams. For hours and days uncounted, I thought of nothing but this day. Not only your marriage, but being reunited with you. A million words and sentences raced through my mind, some of them I thought true, others just an illusion. But being face to face with you again, I realise that none of them mattered. Retelling all the things I thought up would slander this event, they would be an insult to you.
Originally, I arrived to support you. I was willing to suffer until the end of my days to see you smile once again, Nami-san. And if that is your wish, I’m still willing to do just that. I .. I just needed to let you know that no matter how many years pass, no matter how many miles we were and might be apart, my beating heart will never stop seeing you as what you are. In the past, I have given you the title of a princess, a queen, a goddess among unworthy men. These still remain true, but I had yet to awake to the most genuine of truths:
Man can live without all of these. Man will live on without a sovereign, even without a divine hand that guides him. But there is one thing, not even a material one, that cannot be lived without.
Home.
You are what my heart considers home, Nami-san. The one place I can’t live without. I’ve travelled far and wide, lived in many places and got to know as many and more people, yet you are the one that my heart is yearning for. Every time I close my eyes, it is shouting out your name into the darkness. Even when I thought that all was lost, my stubborn heart could not be hushed.
It is nothing but the truth, Nami-san, when I say that your name alone will be the last word that leaves my mouth. The last thought that will run through my dying mind. Step by step, little by little, your name alone has been carved onto my heart. Falling before you, I feel no shame to admit this. You alone are all I want, all I need. You are home. The sum of all of my dreams. Your eyes are the real All Blue, the vastness of your heart gives shelter from the storm and nourishes any hunger, past or future. Next to the depths of your mind, I need to tread carefully as to not get lost. Nothing and no one will ever compare to you, Nami-san.
And .. I fear that this might not be enough, but it is all I have to offer. For a brief moment, the blink of an eye on a cosmic scale, our hearts had decided to beat as one. I was reborn into a light I never knew existed, all because of you. Whatever happens now, Nami-san, however you decide, I need you to know that I’m grateful for the moments we shared. You granted me a glimpse of Heaven that I will never forget and cherish until my last breath.
Forgive my impudence if you find it in your heart, Nami-san.
I love you. I will always love you.”
#opfanfic#Gloomy Days#Drama#Romance#One Piece#Nami x Sanji#Sanji x Nami#SaNami#SanNami#SaNa#Vinsmoke Sanji#Nami#Monkey D. Luffy#Roronoa Zoro#Franky#Usopp#Nico Robin#Bink's Sake#Brook#nakama#nakamaship#OTP#Alternate Timeline#AT#tony tony chopper
5 notes
·
View notes
Photo
She looked into me and saw something better. She forgave me for all my sins that I had yet confessed.
Christian stood over the heap of the man he had just beaten and tortured. Great drops of blood fell from his knuckles, falling to the concrete floor of the warehouse. The young man had been avoiding the job for weeks. Marshall had arrived in San Francisco nearly three weeks ago, and Christian had located him within the first forty-eight hours. A usual for him. Yet Christian stalled. He pretended to have difficulty with locating the fifty-three year old man, father of four. Ribera had another job lined up for Christian as soon as he gave Marshall his warning. One that would send him to Puerto Rico for nearly two months. Christian had just returned from Australia not even a week before Marshall’s assignment came. He didn’t want to leave Lyla, so he sabotaged. It was dangerous. Extremely dangerous to do this, but he didn’t care. He didn’t want to be apart from Lyla. And how would Ribera know if he was having difficulty with finding the man? Ribera was in Sicily, Italy.
A whimper came from Marshall. Christian swallowed hard, focusing on the sounds of the city. He could hear sirens in the distance. They were heading in the opposite direction. False hope for Marshall. His beating was over though. He had received his warning. “It’s alright,” Christian assured the man in a hushed voice, his voice lacking any real comfort. This wasn’t a place for comfort. This wasn’t a place for emotion. Only detachment. “You have three days,” he whispered quietly, walking across the room to the duffel bag. He grabbed a hand towel and began wiping violently at his bruised knuckles. “Three days to deliver to me the debt you owe in full or you’ll pay with your life.” Dry blood was caked onto his flesh, seared into the lines of his skin. He grabbed the bottle of water and rinsed his hands one at a time before wiping them again with the towel. “If you try to flee the city, your family will be killed. Your wife, Macy. Your children: Joey, Max, Jill, and Lacey. Your house is being watched as we speak and if you try to contact them. If you warn them, they will die. Am I clear?”
Slowly, Christian turned around to face the man. Marshall had managed to sit up on the floor now. He was frightened, blubbering. He spluttered blood from his mouth, shaking his head with difficulty as he tried to to look at his torturer through swollen eyes. “P-please,” he begged. Christian asked him once more if he was clear. He asked Marshall if he understood what he was saying. The young man spoke with such authority. He was calm and stoic; dressed in an expensive suit while he tortured the older man. He tossed the towel aside and walked to Marshall, crouching down in front of him.
“Hey,” he said in a gentle voice when the older man whimpered once again as Christian touched his shoulder. “Easy, easy. I’m not going to hurt you now. Listen. All you have to do is get what you owe Ribera by Saturday. That’s it. Do that and you’ll be on your way home to your family. I swear. They’ll be safe and you’ll be safe.” Christian stood up and yanked the man up in swift motion. “Better quick so the pain doesn’t hit you in waves,” he explained when Marshall hollered in agony. “You go make plans and we’ll meet here in three days, okay? Same time as today. Don’t try and be foolish and flee the city. I’ll find you. I’m an amazing tracker.”
Marshall assured Christian that he had no intentions of doing so and then he left the warehouse. After the man was gone, Christian changed out of the expensive suit and into his gym attire. Lyla believed that he was a personal trainer at a local gym. He used this as an excuse for his bruised knuckles most of the time. After cleaning up the mess in the warehouse, Christian headed out into the chill of the January morning. He was startled to find a limousine pulled up beside his car. Slowly, he walked towards the two vehicles. The driver got out and opened the door for him. Christian sat down his bag and slid into the back seat of the stretched car. His breathing caught in his throat when he found himself in the presence of Ribera. He didn’t speak. He never spoke to the man until he spoken to.
“Hello, Christian,” Ribera said carelessly, staring out the window at the docks. “Such a dull place to do business,” he continued, his accent hanging over the words. “Smart place though. Very loud. Hides the screams. We saw Marshall leaving. You beat him well. I doubt we’ll have any trouble from him now?”
“He’ll be compliant,” Christian said in a somber voice.
“That should have been the case three weeks ago,” Ribera said without hesitation before handing Christian a folder. Christian assumed this was his new target. As soon as he opened the document, his heart sank into the bottom of his stomach. Bile coated the cavern of his mouth and he felt like he was going to vomit. He clutched tightly at the manila folder. He stared down at the beautiful face of his beloved. Lyla Novacek. Immediately, he closed the folder, unable to look at her. Unable to let her beautiful face be seen in the presence of Ribera. “Did you think I wouldn’t learn of this, Christian? You’ve spent the better part of your time here in California for the last year. You’ve been slacking with your tasks. Stalling. You never stall. You are diligent in your work. This isn’t like you.”
“Ribera,” Christian said, adjusting himself against the leather seat, slowly putting distance between them, but also turning so he could face the man. “I do my job.”
“Three weeks,” the Italian mob boss said. “It took you three weeks to warn Marshall. Less than three days is your normal rate. You aren’t doing your job, Christian. And now I have leverage. This beautiful woman.” Ribera tapped the folder. “Now, I know what your weakness is. Now, I know how to make you compliant. I helped you all those years ago. I saved you from prison, remember that? You swore your allegiance to me. You promised to work for me and I promised to protect you. I have fulfilled my half of our agreement. Do your part or this beautiful woman will pay the price. Do you understand me?”
“Yes,” Christian said quietly. Ribera handed off a large envelope - his new job.
Christian sat behind the wheel in his Range Rover, fumbling to send a message to alert Lyla that he would soon be arriving home. Ribera was officially an issue. For the most part, Christian had did everything the man had asked of him and then some, but the man had continued his tyranny without reprieve. For thirteen years, Ribera had threatened Christian for all the he had. And this now extended to the one thing the he loved above all. Lyla. Fear gripped the man, paralyzing him. A bone chilling fear had consumed him and he couldn’t shake it. He was afraid. Truly afraid for the life of the woman who was to be his wife. How could this be? How had he let this happen? Christian had always been such a careful man. He knew the answer of course. Love had distracted him. Lyla had distracted him. She had made him feel whole again. She made the voices in his head silent; the guilt that he felt for all the horrible things he had committed seemed to subside when she was around. She was his salvation.
Ten minutes passed before the man arrived home. He knew what he had to do. God, he knew. And he knew it was going to break his heart. And her heart. It was going to rip them apart. It would sever their relationship. It would ruin them. But this had to be done. He needed Ribera to think that Lyla meant nothing to him. If the man thought she was just a distraction, something to pass the time, then he wouldn’t use her as leverage. “Lyla?” he called out as he came through the door, his voice shaking slightly. Christian inhaled deeply as he walked down the corridor and into the living room where he found Lyla on the couch with their dog, Freya. Another shaky breath came from him. He cleared his throat, avoiding eye contact. She was so beautiful. He couldn’t look at her just yet.
“Baby?” she called out in a questioning tone.
Cautiously, Christian sat down on the opposite side of the couch. He longed for her touch. He needed her. He needed to feel her warmth. To kiss her lips. Her perfume could send the fears that were consuming his mind away for the moment but he refused to give into his desires. He had to focus on what was best for her now. On her safety. Not his wants. He couldn’t be selfish. He let out a low breath and turned his eyes away from her, terrified. “I…” He stopped. How could he tell this lie to her? No. He had to. It had to be said. She needed to believe that this happened. This was for her own good. For her safety. “I cheated on you. I slept with Alexa.”
Look at her. You gotta sell this, he said to himself. Christian pushed his gaze up in her direction. Holding a cold stare as he watched her beautiful face morph into despair.
Lyla's smile instantly vanished. After a moment of silence, her lips parted to release a hoarse laugh. "You're lying to me," she said, her voice breaking. It was weak and desperate, her tone pleading with him. She didn't move from where she sat. "Christian, you're lying to me," she said finally, her tone sharp and demanding. It was killing him. Hearing her plead with him to tell her the truth. And he wanted to. He wanted to tell her that this was a lie. That he didn’t actually betray her. That he didn’t sleep with Alexa, who she had voiced her concerns about. He wanted to take away all of her fears and throw them out the window and carry her to their bed. But he couldn’t. He had to break her heart so she’d let him go. "I am telling you the truth," he said in a quiet voice. “I forgive you,” said Lyla within seconds. "Please don't do this to me again. I forgive you," she said in a shaky, desperate voice. “You what?” he asked, dumbfounded. He sat there in utter confusion as Lyla spoke the words he never thought he would hear. Lyla always said that cheating was the one thing she couldn’t forgive. He thought this would send her away and here she was… his beautiful baby, forgiving him. He crouched his torso forward, his head bowing. His fingers kneaded the back of his neck while he contemplating what to do next. This hadn’t gone according to plan at all. “Don’t,” he said sternly. Almost hatefully. The word came from him as soon as she told him she forgave him for the second time. He raised up and then stood. “Don’t forgive me.” He covered his mouth for a moment as he was overwhelmed with emotion. “I’m… I’m falling in love with her. It wasn’t just one time. I’ve been seeing her for a while now.” “No,” Lyla choked out, unable to hold back the tears that were brimming her eyes. The woman proceeded to scream at him, swearing that she hated him. She slammed her small hands into his chest, thrusting him away from her. “Get out,” she shouted from the top of her lungs. “Go be with her!” Unable to control the anger that was taking over her, Lyla grabbed the lamp from the table beside the couch and swung it at Christian, it hit the wall behind him, he ducked to block himself from the shards of glass. He knew. As soon as he said he was in love with Alexa, he knew that did it. He had successfully broke her heart to the point where she would let him go. And it destroyed him. He could feel his heart twisting into despair and it was painful. Devastatingly painful to watch the woman he loved, the woman he wanted to make his wife, look at him with lost eyes as he told her he loved another woman. It was a lie, of course, but Lyla believed him. Lyla always believed him. He wanted to apologize, to tell her he loved her, to give her some sign that this was all a mistake and that someday he would make it right and explain it to her, but he couldn’t. Because he knew she would forgive him. If he gave her a scrap of hope or a hint that he was lying now, she wouldn’t let him walk out the door. So, Christian stayed silent. It killed him to stay silent, but he did. He stared at the woman he loved more than anything in the world for another moment before walking out of their home. His heart was falling into the pit of his stomach. He knew he was giving up the very best thing he had ever had but he also knew it was the only way to ensure her safety. After he closed the front door behind him, the man let out a long sigh, trying to hold off the grief that was trying to consume him. “I love you, Lyla,” he said aloud. “Please forgive me, baby.” He stayed rooted on their front porch for several minutes. He didn’t want to go. This was his home. She was his home. But he had no choice. He wiped the dampness from his eyes and forced himself to climb into his car, driving away from their home. He drove away from the life had been building with Lyla. Reluctantly, he made travel plans for Puerto Rico to fulfill his new job.
15 notes
·
View notes
Text
. Between the Lines . 188
The Natsu above her gave a sound that thundered deep in his chest, tearing through him viciously as he glared at the future Rogue. Heat rolled off of him in dangerous waves and the future Rogue suddenly took a step back.
Lucy untangled herself from the new person, unsure of how to react. She stumbled over on her hands and knees to the future Lucy, who was blinking blearily, her gaze distant, coughing. Blood bubbled from her throat. "Wendy-"
Wendy was too terrified to move, horrified by the sight before her, but she still managed to get out, "I can't."
The future Lucy caught Lucy's hand and gripped it tightly. "Please," she urged, and Lucy flinched as her blood spattered her face. "Natsu-"
"I won't let him die," Lucy said fiercely. Her gaze flickered to Natsu, who looked lost, his hands shaking. She grimaced. She'd comfort him when she had the chance.
To her surprise, the future Lucy shook her head, struggling. She tightened her grip painfully before suddenly caressing Lucy's emblem. "He can't...die. The dragons didn't-" Lucy wasn't entirely sure on the meaning behind what she'd said, but listened. She was heaving for air, and Lucy wished there was something they could do. The strange Natsu had frozen in place now, looking at them with a despairing sadness that crushed Lucy's heart.
The future Lucy smiled weakly and then suddenly dragged Lucy down to her, choking in her ear so only she could hear, "Go...to the Gate. Zeref. He's…" She didn't get the chance to finish what she'd said.
She suddenly choked and went still, her body going limp.
"Lucy," Natsu rasped, shaking. "Lucy-"
"Natsu," Lucy said hastily, reaching over and ignoring the blood on her hands and knees as she drew his forehead to hers. He was in tears. They rolled down his cheeks endlessly, his gaze terrified. "I'm right here. I haven't gone anywhere."
"Dead," he managed to get out, voice strangled. "You're dead!"
"No," she denied, shaking her head. "I'm not, and we need to get a move on. I have to get to the Eclipse Gate."
"Tch," the future Rogue suddenly sneered. "A pity she died in vain. Closing the Gate will only hurt you more."
Something in Natsu's expression changed and Lucy sensed the snap before he even whirled around and bellowed out a blast of fire, his body suddenly cloaked in it. "How dare you?" he cried, voice rising into a scream. "How dare you take her away?!"
"We need to leave," Gray said grimly, looking shaken. He grabbed Lucy's shoulder, faltering. But he shook his head, keeping his gaze turned firmly away. "Natsu looks like he's got things handled here, Lucy."
She swiped at her eyes and nodded curtly. She quickly pressed a kiss to her future self's head, vowing to complete what she'd set out to do, and was startled when the cloaked man that she had no doubt about being her stalker shuffled over. He knelt beside the future Lucy's body and touched her cheek with calloused fingers. Gone was that strange rage, as if he'd given it to their own Natsu.
"You weren't my Lucy," he said gruffly. His eyes were full of a pain she couldn't comprehend. "Never. But you understood my pain and thank you for that. For everything you did to help me in this never-ending adventure, Lucy."
And then he rocketed to his feet, eyes burning into Lucy's. Her lips parted, her expression full of shock. "We have to get to the Gate. That's all that matters now. And we have to make damn sure we close it."
"Right," Lucy whispered, and then froze as a siren went off. Several echoed it and it wasn't long before the entire city was filled with screaming sirens.
The future Rogue laughed and the odd Natsu before Lucy swore hastily under his breath.
"It's time," the future Rogue purred, throwing his arms out. "Here they come."
For the first time in eight years - excluding Tenrou, naturally - Natsu heard a roar that threatened to split his ear drums, and it brought him up short. He'd know the roar of dragons anywhere. He prided himself in saying that Igneel had taught him how to understand their language, not something even most dragon slayers could do.
"Go!" he bellowed to Lucy, glaring over his shoulder. His heart was in chaos. Something was very, very clearly wrong, his chest ached as the dangerous copy of himself dragged Lucy upright, rubbing his own, and he knew somewhere in the back of his mind what he had to do.
"Natsu-" Lucy protested, but Yukino grabbed her arm.
"Lucy, we don't have time," she hissed. "The Games!"
Thousands, millions maybe, of innocent lives-
Oh, no, Lucy thought in terror. She nodded. Trying to keep herself calm, she cast Natsu a final, longing look, and then tore off, entrusting the future Rogue to him. The rest of the group set off after her, and Lucy guided them through twisting turns. When they reached the outside, Lucy stumbled, nearly tripping over her own feet in her shock.
"Dragon," Wendy breathed.
Sure enough, a dragon stood over them. It towered a countless amount of feet in the sky, eyes glittering hatefully. One sweep of its massive tail sent a building crumbling to the ground, and it roared, making Lucy yelp and cover her ears.
"Levy got the evacuations going," the future Natsu said suddenly, looking relieved. He was studying the people streaming out of the city, moving quickly. His eyes flashed. "Gray, they need to know what's going on entirely-"
"On it," he said fiercely. He turned to Lily, who nodded and then glared at him.
"I can't carry you without a shirt, Fullbuster!"
"Right," Gray yelped. "Sorry-"
"Here." Lucy tore the black cloak from her shoulders and wrapped it around his shoulders with a quick smile. He shot her a grateful look and then ran off with Lily clinging to his back.
"Charle, I have an idea," Wendy said suddenly, eyes flashing. She sent Lucy a quick smile. "Deal with the Gate. I'm going to go find the other dragon slayers!"
"Brilliant!" Lucy cried and then darted forward. She could hear Happy's miserable sobs on her head and pulled him into her arms, wondering when he'd even gotten there. He cuddled as close as he could get. Yukino and the future Natsu gave chase. "Happy-"
"You died," he sobbed. "We watched you die!"
"Not me," she said gently. "I didn't die, Happy-"
"Look out!" She and Yukino were tackled out of the way as a dragon's foot descended, its roar echoing in their ears. Lucy heard a distant explosion in the royal family's palace as Natsu and the future Rogue tore at one another to try and stop each other's plans. She watched as one dragon took flight, heavy wings beating at the air and a small fleck attach itself to the dragon's side.
A flaming blur scrambled up after him. Natsu had left to chase the future Rogue into the sky, his body blazing, and she bit her lip, clutching Happy as she imagined him falling to his death-
"The Gate!" Yukino's voice cried, snapping through her thoughts. "Look!"
Lucy craned her head back. They'd made it past the gardens and into the area that held the Gate itself. They stared as a third and then fourth dragon emerged from the light, screaming their cries, ground trembling beneath each step.
The future Natsu - who Lucy distinctly remembered being claimed to be dead - swore. "This isn't good. There were less dragons last time. Shit!"
Lucy shuddered in fear as one cloaked in flames emerged, screaming its rage. It was followed by an aquatic dragon of sorts, with fins rising and falling, and then an emerald-scaled creature that stopped before the gate to look at the humans beneath it.
"We have to close the Gate to stop them," Lucy said firmly. "Even seven dragons is better than infinite."
They all shoved themselves to their feet and Lucy longed for her keys, the support that Loke brought with him as she snapped her whip. Suddenly, there was a cry from Happy. He'd clung to her shoulder, and was pointing at the dragon that had taken flight as Natsu and the future Rogue fought upon its back. "Lucy!"
Her gaze snapped on the countless bombs that seemed to drop from the dragon as it shedded scales. She blinked when she realized they weren't scales, but some kind of dragon-like creatures that had begun to spread through the city. Within seconds, explosions of magic and whatever the creatures could use had filled the air and Lucy could only stare around them in horror as Crocus went up in smoke.
The future Gajeel still couldn't believe that they'd gotten as many people as they had out before it had all gone down. He remembered his wife sprinting up to him with an excited look, claiming that all of the guildmasters had believed her and gotten to work. The Council hadn't been as willing to believe until her past self had shown up and stood there, side-by-side with her, hazel eyes blazing with determination.
There wasn't a single mage who wasn't fighting now. All of the innocents had been evacuated, protected in the nearest clearing in the mountains by the Council and several spells and walls and barriers that had been put up by mages before it had all begun.
He was even more amazed by the way the king of Fiore had stood over them in his box in the arena, several guildmasters at his side, and rallied the mages beneath him - guild members, non-guild members, and even some regular people who had refused to leave, determined to fight and protect their home and families.
None of this had happened all those years ago. There had been no organization, no people there to help them - except for that bastard Salamander. He'd been there. He'd been through this enough times to know several possibilities.
He still remembered what he'd said when he'd finally demanded the truth. He'd met his gaze amongst the devastation and told him, "I'm the first and I've gone through that Gate countless times. I lose every single time. I know who I am and the truth of everything that would have been had this not happened. I've seen our dragons and I've watched them die for you and for me. I have lived this horror for thousands of years, and I beg of you to not ask me again."
He hadn't. The future Gajeel didn't understand how this Natsu from countless futures could be thousands of years old and still look like he was in his twenties, but he hadn't bothered to ask. He'd never asked again.
He remembered how when their Natsu had died, his chest torn to pieces as Lucy sobbed over him, Levy desperately trying to staunch the bleeding of her missing arm, this strange and ancient man had looked over them with sadness - and even a little bit of delight, as if he'd liked watching people die.
The future Gajeel took a deep breath, shaken by his memories.
A hand suddenly took his and his eyes snapped open, darting to the woman who fearlessly grabbed his taloned hand and gave him a kind smile as she said shakily, aware that a dragon was emerging from the Gate, "Are you okay?"
She didn't demand questions, as he'd expected, didn't jump for joy that he was alive in their future. She didn't look in horror at the scales and teeth and piercing dragon-like eyes. "...no," he admitted, gently pulling his hand away. She didn't need to attach herself to him. She had her own version of him to worry about.
But Levy didn't seem to think about that as she told him, "It's okay, you know. That you didn't win last time."
His brow rose, piercings glittering in the light of the setting sun. "The hell you talkin' 'bout, Shorty?"
The younger version of his Levy smiled and her eyes dazzled in a way he hadn't seen for nearing a decade. "Your world is lost, but ours isn't yet, and we won't let it fall." She took his hand again and this time, he let her squeeze it until her own bled from the sharpness of the scales that cloaked it.
"Besides," she continued, looking to the sky as a dragon launched itself, strange scales shedding from its flanks.
"What world can end without me reading Lucy's last book that she promised to write specifically for me?"
#fairy tail#fanfiction#au#between the lines#riverofmemoriesft#nalu#natsu x lucy#natsu dragneel#lucy heartfilia#gray fullbuster#happy#wendy marvell#pantherlily#yukino auguria#rogue cheney#gajeel redfox#levy mcgarden
31 notes
·
View notes
Text
I Need You [Tim Drake x Reader]
Anon requested: “okay but can you please fuck me up with some angsty 31, 27, and 9 with my boy Tim Drake? Please?”
A/N: Holy.... okay this combination is... omg okay I’ll try not to make myself cry
Pairing: Tim Drake x Reader
Warning: Death
Word Count: 1399
Prompt 9: “You walk out of that door and I’m not gonna be here waiting for your ass to come back.”
Prompt 27: “You keep hurting me and I just keep coming back to you.“
Prompt 31: “Sometimes you don’t get what you want in life, and you know what? That’s okay.”
MASTERLIST
You hated it; all the lonely nights in a cold bed, the fear that wrapped around your heart every single night, the sinking feeling of being ignored, the disgusting injuries and nauseous smell of blood.
You loved Tim, you loved him more than words could explain. What you didn’t love was the fact that his life seemed to be complete without you. Sure, he claimed to love you with all his heart, but where was he? If he wasn’t out being a hero and saving lives, he was whisked away by the amount of work he had. It was an endless cycle and you wondered if he ever considered putting you, his girlfriend, into the picture.
You tolerated it. You were patient and you waited, and waited, and waited. No matter how much it pained you, you kept waiting like a lovesick fool. Perhaps you were some lovesick fool to stay with someone who sometimes didn’t even bat an eye at you.
And then one day, you finally snapped.
“Hey Timmy.” you said cheerfully when he entered the apartment in a hurry. However, all you felt was a rush of wind as he shuffled past you. “Tim?”
“Not now, I’m late for patrol.” he muttered quickly, hastily changing into his costume.
Now, you were already upset. However, he had ignored you all day--again--and he didn’t even offer a greeting.
That was when it all came pouring out.
“You’re always patrolling!” you blurted out, stomping your foot. Tim, who had just finished putting his costume on, froze as his eyes widened in shock. You never shouted at him before.
“What--”
“I hate this, Tim!” you continued, “I hate being the least of your worries! Every night, I go to sleep alone and every morning I wake up to an empty bed! And you know how scared I am each time that happens? I don’t know whether you left for work already or you never returned from patrol, because you don’t even bother to leave a note, or send a simple text saying you’re okay!” By the end of it you had tears of frustration running down your face. “You know, you keep hurting me and I just keep coming back to you, and frankly I don’t know how much more pain I could take!”
Tim frowned. Usually he would be consoling you and apologizing, but he had been having a rough time too. He was on multiple cases that seemed to only lead to a dead end and the crime rate was at its peak. He was frustrated as well.
“Look, can we talk about this after my patrol?” he sighed, already sliding the balcony door open. He wasn’t even waiting for an answer.
His impatience and attitude towards your outburst only fueled your anger, and so you hissed, “You walk out of that door and I’m not gonna be here waiting for your ass to come back.”
For the second time that night, Tim froze. He stood on the balcony, staring at you as if you had killed someone.
“W-What? [F/N], no.” He shook his head in denial. He had not just heard you threaten him with that.
“Make up your mind.” you challenged, crossing your arms. “Well?”
“[F/N], you’re being irrational right now.” Tim warned. He opened his mouth to say something else, but there were police sirens in the distance, and Tim spun around, his body facing the direction the noise came from.
Someone needed his help.
“Tim, are you seriously--”
“[F/N], can we please talk about this when I get home?” Tim said quickly. “Someone is in trouble. Please, I promise we’ll talk.”
You released a breath of defeat and hung your head low. Although you were angry, you couldn’t deny that there was someone out there who could by dying right now. Gotham needed him.
“Fine. Go.” you said quietly.
“[F/N]--”
“No. Just go.” You said in a defeated voice, your voice cracking at the end of the statement. Tim looked at you sadly before dashing to you and giving you a peck on the lips, the first kiss he had given you in a very long time.
And just like that, you were a lovesick fool again.
“Someone needs me right now.” Tim whispered when he pulled away. “I’ll be back.”
As you watched him go, you mumbled weakly, “but I need you too.”
It happened so fast.
You didn’t know how that monster knew about you, but that wasn’t what mattered right now.
You need to run.
You need help.
You need him.
But he was gone. He was out saving Gotham.
You couldn’t even find the courage to scream when it struck you.
When Tim returned to the apartment, he was tired, but he was also worried about you. You seemed furious with him, and understandably so. He hadn’t been a very good partner lately, but he loved you. He loved you more than his poor heart could take, so he was going to do anything he could to make it work.
He had gone over hundreds of scenarios and possibilities in his head, but he never expected to see you on the floor, blood surrounding you and splattered on the walls when he entered the apartment.
No words could describe the shock and utter despair and fear he felt. He rushed to your side, lifting you onto his lap with shaky hands.
“[F/N]? Oh god. [F/N]! [F/N], open your eyes! Please!” Tim cried, trying desperately to get you to regain consciousness. He had tears in his eyes, staining his cowl.
“Please, please wake up.” he pleaded, his voice expressing the pain he was feeling.
“T-Tim?” He gasped when he heard your breathless voice.
“[F/N]! I’m here. I’m here.” Tim said, cradling your face with his hands. “I’m here. I’m not going to leave you, I should have never left. Oh god...”
“Tim... Tim you have to listen to me...” you murmured, your voice small and feeble. It broke his heart.
“No, you have to save your strength! I’ll get help--”
“No... Timmy... I-I’m not going to make it.” you choked. Tim shook his head madly.
“Don’t! Don’t say that, you’re going to make it!” he protested, clearly in denial. You sighed and, with all your strength, you lifted your hand and tucked on the fabric covering his face. Quickly, he removed the cowl.
The sight would’ve broke anyone’s heart. His eyes were red and glistened with tears. His lips were wobbling and he was sniffing as he struggled to control his tears.
“Tim... I-I love you.”
“I-I love you too.” Tim sobbed, holding your hand like his life depended on it. The tears wouldn’t stop.
“Shh... Tim, don’t cry.” you cooed, bringing a hand up to wipe his tears even when it took everything you had.
“Please don’t leave me.” Tim begged tearfully, “I-I need you [F/N].”
You smiled gently at him, your eyes showing so much love and affection. There was no trace of the anger you held for him before, and it only made him cry even harder.
“Sometimes you don’t get what you want in life, and you know what? That’s okay. You’re... you are strong Tim. You are my hero, my Timmy. You’re going to get through this.”
Tim shook his head. “No. I can’t. Not without you.” He was choking up. He could barely see you with how blurry his vision was.
“You can...” You closed your eyes slowly. “You... must...” Your hand went limp and dropped to the floor.
“[F/N]?” There was no response. “[F/N]?! No... please, no, you can’t--please! Please! I beg you! [F/N]!!!”
Tim brought your body into his arms and cried, not caring if he got your blood on his clothes. He held you tightly and refused to let you go, because he couldn’t. He lost too many people in his life, he couldn’t lose you too.
But he did, and in his own home out of all the places. He couldn’t help but think that it was his fault. This wouldn’t have happened if he had listened to you and stayed, if he was there to protect you.
Tim had saved countless lives. He was always there when people needed him.
Yet the one person who he failed to save, who he failed to be there for when needed, just had to be you.
#tim drake#tim drake x reader#tim drake imagine#red robin#red robin x reader#red robin imagine#prompt request#dc#dc comics#dc x reader#dc imagine#tim x reader
539 notes
·
View notes