#i wish everything did shine and bloom

[themoonstonechronicler]

its so pretty

[itoshiexx]

blossoming love

synopsis: sae is not good with words, so he communicates with flowers instead. / or, every time itoshi sae gave you a bouquet in significant moments.

pairing: itoshi sae x gn!reader | words: 2.9k | warnings: fluffy fluff, tiny bit of angst if u squint, rin and sae’s relationship isn’t fucked up, kinda proofread, ooc sae maybe? i love him tho, its really just three thousand words of him talking about love

notes: this idea has been on my mind for a while since i adore the language of flowers, and even tho sae is probably ooc, i really liked the final result ♥ also i'm trying a new layout so lmk if y'all like it~ and finally thank u so much for 2.5k followers, i love you all sm!!

masterlist

i. sunflowers for a confession

never has itoshi sae been so painfully aware of his flaws and limitations quite like the day he realized he liked you as more than a friend. because, even though he wasn’t the type of guy to wait for the universe to give him everything he wished for, anyone within three miles could see how absolutely awful he was at communicating.

so that was the dilemma: how could he express his feelings to you if the words just didn’t come out?

“flowers.”

“huh?”

rin was sitting at the couch in their parent’s home, a paused horror movie on the tv. sae didn’t even notice he started mumbling and spilling his secret crush to the younger itoshi, and the tips of his ears went red at that. he was supposed to be the smooth, suave, aloof kind of guy that gave his little brother some love advice, and not the other way around.

(not as if any of them had some kind of experience. emotional intelligence didn’t really run in the bloodline.)

“just give them flowers, nii-chan. did you know each of them has meanings? it could help you express yourself.”

“you mean like… the language of flowers or some shit?”

rin rolled his eyes, but nodded.

“just try not to use ‘some shit’. i don’t think they’re into that,” he joked, and sae could only grimace and send him the middle finger.

but as much as he didn’t want to admit, his brother was right. you were special, and you deserved the best he could give — even if it wasn’t much. he was going to learn how to be better for you, but meanwhile, the language of flowers should suffice. 

the first time you receive a bouquet from itoshi sae, they are beautiful blooms of sunflowers, expressing his adoration towards you. the small card that comes with it has a simple question:

go out with me?

ii. white gardenias and the start of something new

your first date with the pro-footballer is something simple yet sophisticated, a dinner at a famous restaurant he rented just for you two. the dim lights make everything more romantic, and your heart is beating so loud you’re afraid sae might hear it from the other side of the table. despite the euphoria that leaves you nearly breathless, you manage to talk during the night while he mostly just listens.

itoshi sae is not familiar with dates — not actual ones, at least —, so to say he was nervous was an understatement. however, he hid it well behind his nonchalant persona, even if meant avoid talking just so he didn’t fuck things up. 

sae was never a talker, anyway. and it was long ago he figured he’d rather listen to the sound of your voice and drown in the image of your sparkly eyes every time you were excited about something. 

when dinner is over and sae drives to drop you home, you’re a little shocked to see him take another flower arrangement from the floor of the backseat, just hidden enough so you didn’t notice during your ride. the petals are a pure white color with beautiful twirls, and you can’t help but gape.

“is that… is that for me?”

sae wants to scream, because of course they are for you — who else could they be for? as if he’d ever look at anyone when you’re the brightest light shining on his life.

inevitably, you’re all itoshi sae can see.

“they are gardenias,” he simply says, fighting the heat that climbs through his neck. he pushes the bouquet a little more towards you. “they made me think of you.”

your chest swells with affection, and the sweet aroma of the blooms mixed with sae’s perfume makes you a little dizzy. you only realize how close he is when his nose touches yours, hands grazing your left cheek as if you’re something fragile that he’s scared to break.

but he kisses you anyway. his mouth is delicate against yours, trying to convey his longing as a complement to the flowers on your hold.

when your lips part and you finally say goodbye, you’re certain that sae has blossomed an entire garden in your heart. starting with the white gardenias that mean new beginnings, affection and a revelation of a secret love. 

iii. blue hyacinths for an apology

sae knows how much of an asshole he can be. contrary to popular belief, he knows how sharp his words can feel and how mean his voice can sound. even if he wasn’t exactly self aware, his brother rin would sure be able to spit it to his face every time they argued. 

it wasn’t like he always meant it. sure, he didn’t care about his behavior towards the media or people he found particularly annoying (pretty much everyone), but there were people in his life that he cherished; people he didn’t want to hurt. the thing is, itoshi sae was just really, really awkward when it came to his own emotions, and he was the worst at saying how he felt. 

it’s a few months into your relationship that sae learns he would rather never play football again than make you cry. it’s a silly argument, really — he doesn’t even remember what he gets so worked up for. maybe it’s jet lag that makes him lash out on you, but it doesn’t really matter when he sees your eyes glisten and a little sniffle comes out of your lips.

“i’m s-sorry,” you say, uneasy in a way that makes his stomach churn. he wants to wipe that expression off your face, and beat himself up for being the one who put it there. 

him and his stupid ass mouth, as rin would say.

“what? why are you saying that?” his tone is more exasperated than he intends to, and god, why can’t he just shut the fuck up?

“i didn’t mean to annoy you or make things harder… i know you’re tired from your game and i… i’m sorry, sae.”

he should be the one apologizing for being an idiot, he knows; but the words are so foreign to his system that sae doesn’t even know how to put the letters together. it’s only when you pick up your stuff and leave his apartment without another word that the pro-player is shaken out of his stupor.

“fuck,” he curses under his breath. “fucking hell, sae.”

he hates that he hurt you, hates that he doesn’t know how to fix it and hates it even more that his little brother lectures him on the phone later that day, when he calls to vent.

“you already were a shitty brother, so don’t be a shitty boyfriend too,” are rin’s exact words. 

okay, ouch. kinda stings, but he figures he deserves it.

it’s almost 9pm when sae goes to your house, two bags of your favorite treats resting on his forearm while he holds the carefully chosen bouquet. the surprise on your face when you open the door makes his heart reel, though the glimmer of happiness is what makes it all worth it.

“i messed up”, is what he says as soon as he can before you decide to kick him out. “i didn’t mean to snap at you like that and… i’m sorry. i never want to hurt you.”

you take the blue hyacinths from his grasp and look at them fondly before smiling, and sae thinks the sun is shining again. he’s eternally grateful you understand the sincerity and the regret that comes from those tiny petals.

iv. red roses and the epiphanic awareness of love 

journalists from all around the world are well aware of how much itoshi sae hates interviews. it is always pretty clear with the bored — if not extremely annoyed — expression on his face and the rude answers that make anyone break a cold sweat. he doesn’t like stupid questions (all of them) and much less when the press tries to meddle in his personal business. 

it wasn’t new to be asked about his romantic relationships, and this particular topic was something that made sae scowl and diss whatever nosy, lukewarm journalist decided to pry to earn a penny. by now, everyone knows that inquiring if the midfielder is dating anyone is forbidden territory.

still, the media keeps trying to find small loopholes in what they really want to know, questions safe enough to not enrage the itoshi. it’s one of those that makes sae’s world come to a halt in the middle of a press conference in italy.

“itoshi, can you tell us about the things you love most in life?”

his brain instantly shuts down, and suddenly, sae is no longer in a room with hundreds of microphones and cameras shoved on his face, but instead in a cozy little picnic at the beach with you by his side.

if he was being honest, sae never really thought about things like love for most of his life; and not just the romantic one, but love as a whole. sure, he knew he loved his parents and his little brother, but they were parts of his life he didn’t choose, almost as if those feelings were meant to be there ever since he was born.

thinking about his life growing up, he could never really tell if what he felt was ‘love’ or just ‘like’. did he love soccer? did he love salted kombucha tea? did he love the beach? or were all these things temporary fulfillments that could end at any minute? this feeling was such a difficult concept for sae that he never bothered to actually search for answers. 

but you’ve been dating for seven months now — and sae simply knows, as a universal truth written down his bones, that the feelings he has for you are too otherworldly to fit inside the mere perception of ‘like’. liking you doesn’t do justice to the way his heart leaps and his chest is filled with happiness and peace and anxiousness and euphoria all at once whenever he thinks of you.

it’s the strangest epiphany of the century, he thinks, but that is the exact moment itoshi sae is sure you are the sole definition of love. 

he loves you. he loves you the most in life.

and even if life is hard, because the world always is, loving you amongst this chaos is the easiest thing sae has ever done.

so when he comes back from his trip and you stay over at his penthouse, he tries to demonstrate this overflowing feeling when he touches you and kisses you and makes you fall apart just to put you back together. and when the morning comes and you paddle to the kitchen for breakfast, he is there holding the prettiest bunch of classical red roses with the faintest blush on his face. 

you’re beautiful even with your unruly hair and bleary eyes, and sae is certain he will never get tired of seeing you smile for him. 

with his throat clogged with emotion, the words don’t come out. but you take the flowers in your gentle embrace and kiss him with such fondness and infatuation that he can’t help but wish you understand the deep, unconditional love he feels for you.

“i love you too, baby.”

and thankfully, you always do.

v. pink camellias for longing

longing wasn’t a feeling sae was particularly used to. 

when he left japan at the ripe age of 14, the first few months were especially harsh, since he was in a foreign country with a totally different language and culture. sae found himself missing the place he grew up, not so much for the place itself, but for the comfort its familiarity could bring. he missed rin, too. 

but as time passed and itoshi sae transformed, he stopped viewing japan and everything it had as his home, solely becoming a wandering soul in the big, cruel world. the athlete, then, longed for nothing but to be the best. 

however, he realized that life as he knew would never be the same after falling in love with you, for those feelings were strong as tidal waves, all-consuming and capable of changing everything in its course. 

everytime he was away, sae really fucking missed you.

“how long will you be gone for?”

even before he left. 

“…a month.” 

his voice is low and slightly hesitant. you’re together on the living room couch, watching a shitty rom-com movie that sae hates but always watches because it’s your favorite. his arms are around you while your back rests against his chest, and he feels a little dizzy — whether it’s from your sweet perfume or the fear inside of him, he doesn’t quite know.

though he will never admit it, the midfielder is always scared whenever he has to leave for longer periods of time. because what if you get tired of him? what if you start feeling so alone and neglected you end up hating him? the thought alone is enough to make him want to throw up. 

you turn around to face him, and the little pout of your lips suddenly has him feeling sick. 

“so long? you really have to?”

he sighs, because yeah, unfortunately, he does have to stay that long to follow the team along the season. even if he’d rather stay with you and just fly near game days.

“yeah. i’m sorry, mi amor.”

sae lets you turn around fully and adjust yourself on his lap, each leg sitting comfortably around his hips. both of his hands are immediately holding on your waist, as if afraid you’d disappear if he didn’t. 

“don’t apologize, handsome. i know it’s your job. i’m just gonna miss you a lot.”

he has the urge to kiss your sullen look away, and it’s exactly what he does. his lips touch yours with the same tenderness they always do, but there’s a certain urgency in the way his mouth moves and his tongue carefully glides with yours, as if he’s trying to convey just how much more he will miss you.

because although no one would ever believe him, he always misses you more.

“i wish i could stay here with you,” he says when you part, and the little bashful smile you give him makes his heart soar. 

“but you love what you do, though.”

yeah, but i love you more. the thought is something that has been plaguing his mind during the nearly two years you’ve been together, because sae never expected to have something — or rather someone — who would become his entire world quite like how you do. it’s frightening and dreadful and not what he wished for himself, but sae can’t say that he hates it. there’s nothing about you or the gentleness of your love that he can hate.

that’s why when the time of his trip comes, a beautiful bouquet of pink camellias is placed on your kitchen island, and you know it’s his way of showing his longing for you.

vi. amaranthus and the promise of forever

even if many people disagree, sae knows he is always right. it’s how he knew you were the one even before he had you, and more so even before he realized he wanted you. somehow, it’s always been a truth his mind couldn’t ignore.

it’s on a lazy sunday morning at your shared apartment that itoshi sae is taken by a sudden urge of asking you to marry him. 

there’s nothing extraordinary about the scenery; just you making him a snack after waking up from your — now shared — 3pm nap, hair tied in a bun, swaying your hips while stirring the food on the frying pan. he hugs you from behind and rests his head on your shoulder, nosing at the crook of your neck in an attempt to absorb all that you are. you giggle with the ticklish feeling, and the warmth that spreads through his chest somehow doesn’t feel weird anymore.

somehow, it’s now something he deeply cherishes. sae can only describe being with you as pure bliss.

and he’s always been selfish, a true egoist to its core. it’s why he’s faced with his deepest desire to have the honor of spending a lifetime by your side, if only you’ll have him.

he’s had the ring for a while now, hidden behind several socks in his drawer. it might as well be the time, he thinks; a lazy sunday afternoon that has nothing grandiose. sae was never one for big gestures anyway.

so when you both finish eating, sae tells you he’ll be out for a jog, and you just hum with your pretty smile. his heart is beating abnormally fast when he goes to the flower shop, and by the time he’s back home, he thinks it might just explode.

but this… you are it for him, he’s certain. the same way he was certain four years ago, when your love started to blossom until it became the prettiest garden.

and when sae is down on one knee asking the most important question of his life, ring box in one hand and the bouquet of amaranthus on the other, the teary smile and whispered “yes” you give makes him certain that, no matter what, your love will be eternal.

© 2024 itoshiexx. do not plagarise, translate, or repost any of my work on here or other sites.

[iwishthebestforyou]

OUT OF TOUCH — 🥀

fic inspired by the song out of touch

content: angst, knew they had didn't have enough time so didn't confess x thought they had enough time so didn't confess,

scara x reader

maybe ooc

cw: Death, loss

chrysanthemum 💐

—

Entering the hospital room of his childhood bestfriend, the room smelled faintly like antiseptic, it wasn't the empty room or the odd decorations on the wall that got his attention first— no. It was the flowers that were in full bloom sitting on the windowsill, soft petals bathing in the sun that almost seemed too bright.

It was so like you to carry flowers around. For some odd reason, you have a very big interest into flowers, flower language- everything of that sort, carried them in notebooks, bags, in your hands, everything flower related was always nearby, he always found it odd and never really asked other than some teasing comments, but now, at this situation he wished he did.

The memories that always seemed so little value suddenly seemed to be worth alot, the times where'd you would tell him about flower language, bringing him bouquets- even pressured him to take care of his own flower that only bloomed since you were always reminding him to take care of it

Scara stood in the doorway, just staring into the room, his fists clenched by his side's, eyes focused on the patient who was just resting there, you've gotten smaller, paler and those bright eyes were closed. The white around him was starting to irritate him, white walls, white everything. White always suited you, just not in this setting.

It wasn't supposed to be this bad. He knew that illness of yours has been there since the start but- you've always lived with it, you've always brushed it off, so why now? Why now are you failing against it? You've always been so strong.

He swallowed hard as he let out a breath he didn't even know he was holding in, speaking the first few words even after standing there for what felt like an eternity. " ...I'm here. " His voice cracked saying it, there wasn't any mockery, sarcasm or anything laced in his words like it usually would have.

Your eyes opened almost immediately hearing his voice, their lips curving into a faint smile, a happy but a tired smile. " Your.. your here. " They whispered, voice filled with something he couldn't decipher.

Scaramouches gaze flickered back to the flowers on the windowsill, still blooming despite the situation. You must be magical, since how are those flowers still alive? The rest of the hospitals flowers have either died or been replaced by plastic. Yours is the only one alive. He forced a nod and stepped inside " Yeah.. " he murmured, his throat starting to feel clogged. " I came, y/n.. "

Scaramouche sat down on the chair beside the bed, his hands trembling as he continued looking at the flowers, they were vibrant, so full of life just bathing in the sunlight. It felt cruel. Like those flowers were mocking him, mocking you. You were once as bright as those flowers too, always shining and full of life, but now your barely even holding onto that life. he looks at your weaker form and his heart clenches, the contrast was too much for him to bare.

" ...You didn't have to.. don't you have practice today? For that concert. " You whispered, voice soft and strained. Despite your condition, your voice was still filled with that familiar warmth. "And I know how much you hate hospitals."

He gave a bitter laugh, though it just came out like a broken exhale " Yeah? Well, you didn't really give me any other choice. " He replied, trying to sound lighthearted or atleast bring back that usual sarcasm in his voice. But his voice crack at the end betrayed him.

You chuckled softly, the chuckle quickly turning into a cough. Both sound and sight made him flinch, but you still smiled at him, smiled at him despite of how much pain you were in, trying to reassure him it was okay, you were fine. But that smile only worsened his anxieties. You weren't okay, they both knew that.

You were the only one who looked at him without any anger, someone who looked at his heart and not just his mean, hardened exterior. He never got to say it, but you mattered alot to him. Maybe even the only person that was close to him.

Growing up, there wasn't much he could claim as his, not his family, not the sense of belonging, not friendships. Everything was fleeting— be there for a second and leave, that was everything and everyone around him. But you? Your friendship? Was the only thing he could call his own, the one thing he had for himself

And now that too, something he thought would last an eternity was slipping away, just like everything around him always did. He never really was lucky huh?

" But to be honest, I'm glad you came .. I was waiting for you, you know? " You said softly, gaze at the ceilng " I thought you wouldn't, but I understand. You hate goodbyes. "

His chest tightened, guilt clawing at him but also a surge of anger " Don't say that. " He muttered, cutting her off before she could continue. " This isn't goodbye. "

You gave a him a look, a look that broke him more then he already was, a look of bittersweet acceptance and it made this stomach churn. " Scara.. " you said, voice barely above a whisper " You know it is. We both know. "

His chest tightened even more and he felt like he was losing his a ability to properly breathe, hands clenched tightly digging into his palms as he struggled to keep himself to calm. " Stop it. " He said harshly, his voice trembling. " You don't get to decide that, your going to beat that fucking illness,  you always have. "

You didn't reply immediately, your gaze softening even more as you looked at him again. " The flowers are blooming. " you said, catching him off guard.

He blinked, confused by the sudden change in topic. " What? "

" You know, the chrysanthemum.. " you continued, eyes turning to the flowers that sat so prettily on your windowsill. " They mean goodbye in flower language. "

His breath hitched and for a moment, he couldn't speak. The weight of your words suffocating him, the hopeless tone in your voice.

" They're beautiful, aren't they? " You whispered " I always wanted to leave something beautiful behind, even if they're just flowers. "

" Stop, " he said again, voice cracking " Just shut up.. stop talking like that.. stop talking like your leaving. Your going to stay, then- then we're going to go back to how things were. I'll even let you make fun of me, okay? "

You laughed sweetly, the sound bittersweet. " It's okay scara, really, I've made my peace. "

But he hasnt. And he wasn't really to let go, not yet. Not ever.

" Don't say that.. " he didn't even realise the years that started to form. He didn't cry. But, how could he not at the situation? His voice breaking with every word. " Don't.. Please don't say that. "

You reached out weakly, your hand brushing against his. Your touch was so gentle, so light. It shattered something inside him. He'd rather how you were before, hitting him and throwing things at him then whatever this is. " It's okay. " You murmured you words barely audible with the soft hum of the machines surrounding you. " I'm getting tired.. I hope you don't mind if I go to sleep. "

He nods and you smile, your eyes closed, breathing steady but faint. He sat frozen, eyes locked onto your peaceful face.

He didn't move. He didn't speak. The silence in the room grew heavier, pressing down on him like a heavy weight.

A trembling breath escaped his lips and he lowered his head, starting to breath heavily as his vision blurred, he couldn't properly breath anymore, hands covering his face, shoulders starting to shake and silent tears streamed down his cheeks, quiet sobs as tears soaked his hands. He didn't make a sound, didn't dare disturb that peace of yours.

It was the first time in years he left himself cry, and it hurt more than he thought it would. It felt so unfair. Everything felt so unfair, he only had this one thing and even that's been being taken away.

The blooming flowers on the windowsill blurred through his tears, their vibrant colours with your pale face gave a cruel reminder to him of what he was going to lose.

For now, you were still here. Still breathing but he couldn't stop the overwhelming dread gnawing at him, knowing this peace won't last forever.

So he let himself break as you slept, completely unaware that the stoic, rude and usually sarcastic bestfriend of yours was breaking right beside you.

A few days pass by, and tonight felt oddly colder. Harsher and even more darker, a few people inside the room silently sobbing as the day finally came, the day he dreaded so much. Scaramouche remained seated beside you, his gaze fixed on you, as if silently begging for you to just magically get up and laugh at him, to tease him for being so emotional. But your breathing was growing fainter by the second.

He didn't dare move, he couldn't even think properly.

" Scara..? " Your voice, softer than before, weaker than ever and more fragile.

He leaned closer, his chest tightening " I'm here.. " he whispered, his voice hoarse

Your eyes fluttered open briefly, the corners of your lips curving into a soft faint smile. " Are the flowers still blooming? "

His breath hitched. Of course, it's about the flowers again. His chest ached at that question and he nodded, his eyes betraying the composure he was trying to hold. " They're alive, blooming like how you wanted it to. "

You exhaled a shaky breath, smiling at that. Seeming to finally fully come into terms on whats gonna happen. " That's good, i'm glad.. "

Scaramouche clenched his fists, nails digging into his palms as he forced himself to atleast stay strong for you. Atleast not let you pass seeing a frown on his face.

The heart rate monitor was beeping slower and slower, the nurses put their head down.

Please. Please. Don't take them away. He dosent believe in miracles, but please- if that's what it takes to bring you back to your old self then please.

Please don't do this to him. Please.

He was spiralling, tears starting to form as you broke the silence with a whisper, so faintly that it was barely audible.

" Take.. take care of the flowers. I'll see you.. someday "

Beep.

Beep.

Nothing.

Your eyes were shut, and this time they didn't open at the sound of people talking or his voice. They just stayed shut, the sound of the monitor flat lining pierced through the air as choked sobs from friends and family came from behind him, his own tears and sobs filling his senses, nurses and doctors looking down.

" No, " he whispered, his voice breaking and his heart torn into pieces, there was so much he had to say, there was so much time he thought they had- so he didnt say anything, he didn't wanna believe that the time was slipping from his fingers.

He reached for your hand, gripping it slightly but it didn't have that warmth anymore, it was cold. Too cold. His body trembled as the realisation hit him like a tidal wave. You were gone.

More nurses entered the room, voices quiet and respectful, muttering apologies and condolences, but he barely registered their presence, feeling numb and his eyes focused on you.

Cruel.

Your too cruel.

A few weeks later, he was helping your family take your belongings from the hospital room. It was too cold, emptier. He stood by the windowsill, just looking around on the tiny pieces of you that you left behind.

His eyes took notice of the chrysanthemum, his fingers brushing against them, the flowers you cared so dearly for, the flowers that were wilted, petals lifeless.

A bitter laugh escaped his lips, the sound harsh and hollow. " The flowers.. they're wilted. " He muttered, his voice breaking. He broke the promise you left him with, but then again, he was never good at the keeping promises thing.

His chest ached as he picked up the pot, looking at it, holding it so fragile like it was an extension of you. He couldn't cry, no, you wouldn't want him to cry. But his vision blurred and the tears started rolling down anyway.

You were gone, and yet, despite it all he could feel you, your smell, your interests still scattered all over the room. The memories that clung to every corner in his mind, he still had so much to tell you, still so much to do, still so much to talk about, so much things he couldn't say.

He set the pot down carefully, brushing a hand on the dead petals " You said youd leave something beautiful behind, " he whispered. " But what am I supposed to do now when your not here to remind me to take care of it? "

The words echoed in the empty room, the weight of your absence pressing down on him.

And for the first time in his life, scaramouche wish he believed in miracles. Because if he did, maybe he could've atleast had that hope that he'd maybe see you again, even if you were just a flower.

But alas, just like that flower has wilted, you did too. But maybe that beauty you wanted to leave behind wasn't the flower, but the memory of you.

I'm sorry if it's just yap, I was just bored and spilled my feelings in hehe it feels a bit self indulgent

[i-am-hungry-24-7]

[Simon Riley, Will You Marry Me?]

F!Reader proposing to Simon, let’s see what happens :D !!

The breeze touches your cheek tenderly, bringing you a sliver of coolness, just what you need now to calm down your anxious yet excited mind.

Everything is just as you planned. A nice dinner with some wine, you suggest going for a short walk just like you two always did. You watch Simon walking beside you, left hand engulfing yours in his warm and calloused one and looking in front of him, so you tuck your hand in your pocket.

The little box is there, and you sigh in relief, the whole date tonight you’ve kept checking its presence while making sure Simon doesn’t notice.

You two stop by the lake you both love. The stars shine dazzling in the sky, with the moon accompanied their beauty.

Everything’s perfect. Now it’s the time.

“Simon.” You take a deep breath, and watch your lover turning his head to meet your gaze.

“yeah, luv?”

“I have something to tell you.” You let go of his hands, shifting your body so you’re face to face with him. You can see his eyes dancing across your face with curiosity inside, but he just stays silent, waiting for you to continue.

“Simon Riley, I might not be the most beautiful person among others, might not be the smartest person that can help you the most, but I’m the luckiest person, because I found you in the crowd.”

You clenching hard at your skirt, under Simon’s wide eyes, you continue your words.

“Just like I said, I may not be the smartest, but I’ll always be by your side, holding your hands when you’re unsure of yourself, hugging you when the world is cruel and you need warmth. You are the person I wish I could spend my whole life with you...”

With wobbly knees, you lift your skirt slightly to kneel, and you can hear people standing by and gasping, but all you can see is the man you love with your entire life, eyes sparkling with surprise and the love you have in yours too.

“Will you marry me, Simon Riley?”

The box you have been checking along the whole night is now placed directly in your palm, the diamond on the ring shines majestically just like the stars above you two.

“Of course.” You can sense the difference in Simon’s voice, his voice is shaking too, but the happiness and touch inside is undoubtful. “please stand up, love.”

You let out a sigh of relief, steady your legs and start to straighten your legs.

“ahh!” the sudden relief doesn’t stop your trembling legs, and your body waddled, causing you to stumble onto the ground.

“Lovie!” Simon drops to his knees, your knees hurt, but you don’t care about it when you watch the ring box roll out of your hands and drop into the lake.

“the ring!” Crying out, you stumble to your feet and run into the lake. You know the lake is shallow, you can still find it, you need to find it—

A splash comes in your ears. Through your watering eyes, you see Simon step into the lake with you. His left hand steading you while his right arm swirls inside the water.

“It’s okay, love, it’s here, I found it, don’t worry.”

Finally, the white box appears in Simon’s hand when he retrieves his arm from the lake. Fortunately, besides some dirt and grass, the ring lies safely inside the box.

You don’t have a single energy to speak, letting Simon lead you back to the ground, both of your clothes are damp, and you're still recovering from the fright, but Simon’s chuckles bring you back to reality.

You stupidly watch him burst into a low laugh, a smile blooms on his scarred yet gorgeous face.

“You really aren’t the smartest person.” He hugs you closely until you can hear his heartbeat, faster than usual due to the accident, yet soothing just like you always listen to when you snuggle with him on the bed.

“thank you for confirming, Simon.” You pout, but a grin spread on your lips too.

“but you’re the bravest person, and I’m the luckiest man.”

Raising your eyebrow, you lift your head with disbelief, which vanishes when you look into his eyes.

There’s affection. immovable. unquestionable.

“Let’s go home and take a shower, yeah?”

“Sounds amazing”

Simon reaches out his hand, and you take them into yours. They’re wet this time, but it doesn’t affect the heat radiating and sharing through the connected palms.

“But next time don’t jump into the lake immediately, it could be dangerous. ‘kay?”

“Okay. I'm a dork I admit.”

“yeah, a cute dork.” He squeezes your hands playfully. “My little dork.”

[lordsukunas]

hehe thinking abt footman!ness who’s obsessed with you, his gorgeous sorceress.

his attachment is... interesting, to say the least. ness is never too far away from you — by your side when permitted, fingers twitching beneath his gloves to reach for your hand, standing guard by the door when not, ignoring the barely hushed whispers from the actual guards.

“does he have nothing better to do?”

“you know he is. he worships her grace as if she created the moon and the stars.”

but you did! he knows it, deep down in that overstuffed heart of his. what don’t they get? and even if you didn’t, you’re the one who keeps them shining so brightly, illuminating each and every night.

everything about you is ethereal, and ness makes sure to remind you. every ball, every luncheon, every useless dinner where he’s wrenched away from your presence, he never forgets to douse you in compliments.

“your grace, you are more beautiful than any flower blooming in spring.”

“all the other noblewomen pale and wither in comparison to you.”

oh, how he wishes he could be there to see you waltz around, frilly, regal skirts swishing in time with your graceful movements. the thought is enough to sneak into the gardens and dance, imagining your hand in his, all to some tune in his own mind. he makes sure to filter out the images of you in another man’s arms — they won’t ever have the opportunity to be with you anyway.

but his favorite part is when you say his name.

“oh, alexis? can you fetch me some more sugar cubes, please?”

“alexis, do you think this shade of green suits me? i fear it’s too cool for my complexion.”

“hm? good morning, alexis! did you sleep well?”

alexis, alexis, alexis.

he’ll never grow tired, y’know. you could say his name thousands of times a day, in thousands of different contexts, and his heart will skip a beat each and every time.

you speak his name so delicately, as if it is a porcelain vase you refuse to drop and shatter. it rolls off your tongue with a perfected ease, just like that day you rescued him from the streets.

ness is so glad you saved him. nothing will make him leave your side, and if death comes to claim him? well, he’ll have to take you with him!

erm... idk what this is, its so incoherent :( i prob shouldve structured it better but then id be here all day. i refuse to lose inspiration!!!! sorry if this ooc btw lol idk shit bout ness

[hana-no-seiiki]

HELLO??? WHY IS NO ONE TALKING ABOUT THIS MASTERPIECE??? especially the last line holy shit im scared yet excited at the same time 😬😬

YANDERE! AQUAMARINE HOSHINO x REINCARNATED! READER x YANDERE! RUBY

Guess I gotta do a full fic about it huh. Here we go. Link to previous part in the ask!

tw/cw: yandere themes, gaslight tactics courtesy of aqua, girlkeep tactics courtesy of ruby, girlboss [y/n]. mentions of suicide. reader is gn but gets described as beautiful.

is this really a yandere fic when both the twins are canonically insane tho-

IT WAS SAID THAT DURING THE NIGHT OF YOUR BIRTH THE SUN WAS AT ITS HIGHEST POINT AND FULLEST BLOOM.

Its rays buried humanity under a blanket of heat and devastation. Fortunetellers would wax on and on of the disasters you would soon bring upon the world.

That was your experience in your first life.

Many could only wish of being born to a worldwide pop-star, but to you it was a reality. You resented those that vied for your place. How could they romanticize such a life when every single day was torture for you. Some predicted you to be world-class singer before your first cry. People knew you before you could even speak to them. Everyone already idolized you, expected you to do great things before you’d even learn the alphabet.

The pressure had already been insurmountable the moment you took your first breath.

Your second life was terrifying to say the least. It didn’t matter that way you died before, just the thought of experiencing the same motions again frightened you to your bones.

And so you pretended. A shining star to a dim moon that barely reflected any light. Ever so meticulously making sure none knew of your so called genius. The last thing you wanted was to be labeled a prodigy even with the more lax nature of your new family.

But art will always call to you, a sunflower drawn to its source of energy.

You kept everything as lowkey as you could, reconnected with contacts you knew would keep their mouth shut, and even kept your identity away from prying eyes.

To the world you were just this masked musician that was oddly reminiscent of their previous luminescence.

You were satisfied with that life. Fame wasn’t something you agonized about or wished for. But now that veil had been taken away, it’s as if everything was crashing down yet again. Emails, messages and articles about your success as a young star was beginning to show its true weight. Stress began accumulating further and further as you had distanced yourself from your family and threw yourself to work as a distraction.

On one such ‘productive’ night, you were met with a face you didn’t expect.

“Aqua-niisama! Nice seeing you here. Thought you would be staying at that director’s place for the night—“

“Why didn’t you tell me? Didn’t you promise to tell me everything? Don’t you trust me?”

Aquamarine had this knack of being utterly terrifying without meaning to. He had the talent to frighten at a glance. His beautiful sea-like eyes turn dull, murky. Capturing all the light, and drowning you in the same pressure your old family would throw you under repeatedly.

With his arms caging you between his form and the wall, you knew there was no escaping this. So in spite of the crippling anxiety, you gulp it do

“I wasn’t confident enough with my skills. Your mom is the Ai Hoshino and Ruby is so talented I—“

He lowered his face, nestled it right beside yours. You could swear he was breathing in your scent. “You looked anything but ‘not confident’ up on the stage.”

“Liar.” His hands then moved from the wall to encircle themselves around your body; his face to your the top of your head and nose between your hair. Yet even in this tight embrace you still felt chills down your spine. “I scare you don’t I? You were worried that I would stop you like I did with her.”

“Yes.”

“I’m sorry. I’m a terrible brother.”

“No, I understand you. You just wanted to keep her safe and I—“

“Not for that.” He pushed himself away for a couple of moments, and for that short amount of time you were ashamed to say that you felt utterly relieved until— “This.”

— he kissed you.

You’ve seen Aqua kiss Akane before. Both on and out of camera. You respected their relationship despite knowing of how unhealthy it truly is. They’d eventually break up and things would go smoothly you thought.

Pfft, as if. You knew shit would hit the fan. You were just too much of a coward to get in his way. Akane could suffer for all you care, she chose to date your psychopath of an adoptive brother anyways.

But you didn’t expect him to fall for you.

He never seem interested. Despite your mother telling you time and time again that Aqua cared deeply about you, you just couldn’t see it.

He was the deep, dark ocean. You were at the highest point of the sky, sailing across the cosmic sea. There was no way you two could meet eye to eye much less love normally.

You did the only thing your body could muster at the moment and slapped him.

“You’re right. You are a horrid brother.”

As you ran away, sobbing, Aqua couldn’t help but feel aroused.

Oh, how charming you looked with tears streaking down your cheeks.

It felt like hours when you first started crying nonstop. You never cried in your original life. You had no time or energy to. You never expected that your second, mundane life would be the one that shattered you.

And shattered you it did. You felt sorry for the future you who had to wash off all the tears and snot on your pillows and bedsheets, but it had to be done. You knew if you didn’t let it all out that day it’d happen sooner or later at a more inconvenient time.

Aqua only entered once to leave a tissue box and water bottle before he left. The sounds of typing outside of your room never ceased however, indicating he never actually went too far.

Ruby arrived far earlier than you expected as well. Her schedule that day should have had her busy til midnight but you had the feeling Aqua told her what he’d done.

“Ruby-nee—“

“Ssshhh…” Ruby silenced you with a kiss to the forehead.

“Why would he do that— he - he has a girlfriend.” You stuttered and hiccuped throughout your speech, still crying as hard as you did back then.

“Do you really think he loves her?”

“No.”

“But that isn’t what you’re worried about isn’t it?”

Ruby brought you up to her shoulder, massaging your back in a circular motion. “Trust me, nothing will change. He loves you very much. We both love you. I’m just sorry we didn’t make you feel comfortable enough to share your passion with us. You’re amazing [Y/N] in every shape, way or form. You don’t have to be the brightest to the world, you have no obligation to.”

“To us you’re already perfect.”

You never knew she had the capability to be this comforting in a mature sort of way. She always radiated a loud vibration; refreshing most of the time, though it did get tiring.

Never have you been afforded this kind of consolation. It was always you against the world. Being reminded that there are other stars in the sky beside you gave you a strange sense of solace. An odd variety of relief borne out of being insignificant in the sky.

“This incident just means he loves you in a different way alright?”

“But what about Aka-neesama?”

“I’ll talk to him about it.”

“You should thank me. I left them all vulnerable for you.” Aqua spoke, his right hand quickly moved across his laptop’s keyboard and his left held a can of Monster.

“You felt it too didn’t you?” Ruby exhaled. It took a while to get you to lull you into sleep; a necessary step to have the conversation she was partaking in.

“Yeah. . . I did.” Aqua took a sip from his drink, his starry eyes laser focused on the recording of your performance. He had set up several fan accounts and gotten footage from all sorts of angles. He couldn’t wait for your next stage. May it be from sheer excitement or the caffeine in his blood, but the man was absolutely shaking all over over in anticipation. “We have a second chance, don’t mess things up.”

“I should be saying that to you. Break up with Akane by next week. And be careful with how forward you are with your feelings.”

“Already done.” Aqua held up his phone without breaking moving his head at all, in his phone were a few texts between him and a panicking Akane. “and no promises”

Ruby sighed one last time that night, leaning her head back to your bedroom door. “. . . You were right.”

“Hm?”

Both of her eye’s stars hard turn tar black, a blush covered her cheeks.

“[Y/N] does look enticing when they cry.”

[bubblegump-1-nk]

Shall I Write It in a Letter

pairing: Gryffindor!Reader x Theodore Nott

summary: In which Theo wakes up one morning and realizes he can no longer not have you, so he writes you a letter. But when that letter gets lost, things become complicated. - inspired by Anne with an E; song: Bloom by The Paper Kites.

Warnings: angst that could be fixed by simple communication 😒, hints of cheating

P.S: I super duper highly recommend to listen to the songs either before, during, or after you read my fics . Not only do they encapsulate what the fic is about, but they’re also just super good songs!! <33d

~~~

Christmas break had been in session for about a week and a half, and Theo was spending his time off at home. Although he was sad to be away from his friends, he was happy for the much needed alone time.

The sun was shining brightly through the dark velvet curtains in his room, and he slowly woke up from his dreams. As his eyes fluttered open, he felt a pang of pain in his heart. His dream had been of you, specifically of kissing your soft lips on a warm summers day by the Black Lake. He’s found that more recently than ever, his head is full of you, as is his heart. As he’s laying in his bed, he closes his eyes once more, trying to hold onto the bits of you he won’t ever experience. In this moment, thoughts of you more prevalent than ever before, he realizes he doesn’t have to not have you. Quickly, becoming fully awake, he springs out of his bed and walks quickly to his desk.

He pushes all the papers and miscellaneous items off the surface, and pulls out a paper and quill. He’s become fully aware of just how much he longs for you, and why should he not be able to tell his best friend that he’s in love with her? He’s been yearning for your love for as long as he can remember, and it has finally transformed him into a fool, giving him the confidence to express his love for you.

My dearest y/n,

I’ve found that you’ve been circling my thoughts more than usual lately, so much so that I can hardly call them my own anymore. I think about you all the time, yet I’ve been too much of a coward to say anything. But I’ve realized that I don’t want to wake up one day, either in the near future or in the years to come, and regret not trying, because of pride, or embarrassment, or just simple fear. I need to escape this torture chamber I’ve made for myself, where I must hold you at arms length though I know I wish for nothing more than to be wrapped in your embrace at all hours of the day. So I need you to tell me if it’s all in my head. That the lingering touches and longing stares are just simple delusions I’ve created in my mind. But if they’re not, and Merlin how I hope they’re not, I’m telling you here and now that I am in love with you y/n l/n, and I don’t think I can bear to be apart from you any longer. I also want to go ahead and apologize for telling others I loved you, that they knew before you did, but to be fair I think everyone knew before I did, too. You are my breath of fresh air, the light in all my darkness, my proof that life is pure and good and that happiness is achievable. I may not be a religious person, but if worshipping you was a religion I’d be its most devoted follower. And if my feelings are not reciprocated, please find a way to put this past you because I could not endure losing you as my best friend as well.

Yours Forever, Theo.

After pouring his heart out onto the page, he carefully placed it into an envelope, wrote your name on it, and walked to give it to owl. After sending it away, he walked back to his room, his anxiety suddenly crashing through. Thoughts swarmed his head: She doesn’t love me, I’ve ruined everything, I should stop it from reaching her. But his heart quickly stopped his brain from doing too much damage. You needed to know or else Theo would live in agony for the rest of his life. Upon reaching his room, he sat back at his desk and sent letters to each of the Slytherin boys, confessing what he’s done. He even slipped a copy of the letter to Mattheo, the only one he felt he could truly trust with that piece of his heart.

~~~

It had been two days since the letter had been sent. Had his owl reached you by now? Had you seen it? What were you thinking?

He was an utter mess, his mind swarming with questions and his body teeming with anxieties.

Soon it was 4 days, then 6, then a week, and then the last day of break rolled around the corner. Still he had received no response from you, perhaps you wished to talk in person? His heart hoped that that was the answer, and that the lack of a letter was not your rejection

~~~

You got onto the train just as it was about to take off, thanks to your missing jumper. The train was packed with kids saying their hellos and catching up, and with much effort you finally found Harry, Hermione, and Ron and got inside the compartment.

“Is it just me or is it crazier than usual?” You ask as you sit down.

“Definitely crazier, apparently Lavendar and Parvati got into a huge fight over break so everyone’s running around to hear about it.” Hermione explains as she hands you some candy she bought for you.

You say your thanks and continue talking with your friends when there’s a knock on your compartment.

“Hi Dean!” You say as you get up to slide open the door. You step out quickly to talk with the tall Gryffindor boy.

You have a friendly conversation, lasting about 10 minutes before entering the compartment again.

“What was that about.” Ron asks, before anyone else has the chance to.

“I saw him at Diagon Alley over the break and he asked me out. We hung out a couple times over the break.” You explain.

“Never would have expected that one.” Says Harry.

You raise you eyebrow at him, “and why would that be?”

“Just always assumed it would be Nott.” Harry says.

“I can’t just sit around like a fool waiting for him. He’s shown he just sees me as his best friend and the quicker I get over him the better.” You explain.

“But, he hasn’t shown you that he feels that way.” Explains Hermione, who is team Theo and y/n.

“He hasn’t shown me any differently. Wake me up when we get there I’m taking a nap.” You say, tired of constantly being reminded of your inability to be with Theo.

~~~

You arrive at the castle, and you make your way through the crowds to find your Slytherin friends. Just as you spot their group, Dean Thomas stops you.

“Hey, I’ve saved you a seat next to me, ok?” He asks, while his hands snaked around your waist.

“Thanks, I’ll be right there.” You say to him, giving him a small smile before turning your attention back to the group

-

“Merlin.” Theo says, causing the group to turn their heads. He had seen you walking around the crowd, and had turned away quickly when you had finally spotted them. He hadn’t seen you on the train and obviously hadn’t received your letter, so a part of him still hoped that you just wanted to talk to him in person. His anxiety began to take over him when he saw you walking towards him - would you tell him to fuck off? That he’s some sort of creep best friend? Or would you tell him that your heart beat for him? - that’s when he saw it. Dean Thomas gripping your waist and you sending him that sweet, tooth rotting smile his way.

“Oh shit.” Said Mattheo, who had been the first to spot the pair.

“Fuck that’s messed up.” Said Draco.

“I’m sorry mate.” Enzo said, patting Theo’s shoulder.

“How’d that even happen?” Asked Blaise, confused because he had never really seen you interact with Dean.

Mattheo sent him a look, warning him to drop it.

“Let’s just get out of here.” Mattheo said, gently grabbing Theo’s arm, pulling him away towards the dining room.

Theo could still feel his heart breaking, each shard falling to the pits of his stomach and stabbing him. He got his answer at least, not only did you not love him, you clearly didn’t care enough about him to even write back to him. And now, his God-sent Angel, was flaunting around with another man. How could the sweet girl he grew up with, the one that showed him that even salt could be beautiful, break his heart and crumble its pieces in your fist?

-

You were confused when you suddenly saw the group leave, making their way into the dining hall. You tried to get to them, but the crowds of people pushed you back until finally, you realized it was fruitless when the crowd began pushing you back towards the Gryffindor side of the Great Hall. You decided to just sit down, and that you would try to find the group, Theo specifically because you missed him deeply, after dinner.

Dinner passed quickly after the tedious sorting ceremony. You talked with your friends and caught up with those around you, sneaking glances towards the Slytherin table as often as possible. Finally, Dumbledore dismissed the students and you all made your way towards your common rooms. Since it was the first day back, teachers were making sure students went directly to their rooms, leaving you no time to find the Slytherins. You decided it would be best for you to just wait until tomorrow, though you thought you might implode if you spent one more second away from Theo. A thought that made you feel instantly guilty when Dean appeared at your side.

~~

The next day rolled around, and still you hadn’t been able to get ahold of the Slytherins. If you hadn’t known any better, you would have assumed they had been avoiding you. Finally, right before lunch you entered the library to grab some books when you saw the boys congregated in the back. You made your way over to them, carefully stepping around the stacks of books Madame Pince was reorganizing.

Once you finally reached the group, you went to announce your presence before Theo looked away from Draco (who was telling some boring anecdote) and looked down at you. Before you had any time to give him a smile or say your hello’s, he detached himself from the group and stormed right past you, through the stacks of books, and out the door. You stood shocked, facing the doors before finally turning back around to face the group. Your face was painted with an expression of confusion, which only deepened you received a nasty look from Enzo.

“We’ll be on our way now.” Said Enzo, walking past you with Blaise following close behind.

What..?” You finally managed to get out in your state of shock.

“Listen, y/n, just do us all a favor and leave us alone, especially Theo.” Mattheo said, in quite a rude tone before walking passed you. You stood confused and shocked at the interaction that had just unfolded. What had you done? Why were the boys mad at you? What had you done to Theo?

~~~

“I just have no idea what it could possibly be.” You said to Hermione, as you paced around your dorm room, recounting the story from earlier.

“Maybe it’s Dean. Maybe he’s just jealous.” Hermione offered.

“No, but I’ve had flings with guys before, and it’s not like he hasn’t been with girls before. It’s some thing deeper than that I know it.” You state, picking at your fingernails.

“And your sure you haven’t done anything? I mean you can’t think of one thing that could possibly have led to this?” Hermione asks, just as confused about the situation as you.

“Yes, I mean I literally cannot think of one thing that could have led to this. I would never hurt Theo, ever.” You say, plopping down on you bed, exasperated by the days events.

“I’m sorry y/n but I have absolutely no idea why they’re acting like this.” Hermione said, sad she couldn’t be of more help.

“It’s fine Hermione, it’s not your fault. I’m just going to go to bed.” You say, wanting this nightmare to end.

Could you really be losing your best friend to a reason unknown to you? Not only can you not be with the man that you love because he doesn’t reciprocate your feelings, but now you may have just lost him completely. You fall asleep after hours of rolling back and forth contemplating your complicated relationship with Theo, and even in your unconscious state you cannot escape him because he peeps into your dreams.

~~~

The following week is agony. Your best friend won’t talk to you, let alone allow himself to be in the same room as you, the boys you’ve known since childhood give you nasty looks every chance they get, you have to entertain a relationship with Dean your not even sure you want to get into and your teachers are stuffing you with assignments. All you need is a good party with lots and lots of alcohol. Once Friday afternoon finally rolls around, you can feel a slight weight lift from your shoulders.

~~~

You walked into the Slytherin common room with Dean. Pansy, Daphne and some other Slytherin girls hosted the first party since break and seeing as you’ve been close with them since 1st year, you were clearly invited. You decided you were going to look your absolute best for this party: you’re makeup was flawless, your hair done to perfection, and the corset and low-waisted mini skirt you were wearing was doing your figure perfect justice.

“Fuck me.” Said Theo as he saw you walk in with Dean. “I’m going for a smoke outside.” He says.

“Need company?” Mattheo asks, not wanting to leave his vulnerable friend alone.

“Nah mate, thanks though.” He says, before walking outside quickly, before he can see anymore of you.

It had only been a few minutes, and you had already downed about 3 drinks. Once the alcohol started to hit, you detached yourself from Dean’s grip making up some excuse, before finding your way towards the Slytherin boys.

You spotted Mattheo sitting on the arm rest of a couch, sipping out of a plastic cup. You walked up to him, hips still swaying to the music.

“Where’s Theo?” You stated, once you reached him, your confidence booming.

“What do you want?” Mattheo asks, looking up at you with contempt.

“I need to find Theodore Nott. Where is he?” You state.

“You have some serious nerve.”

“What?” You ask, taken aback.

“Listen, y/n, you’re once of my closest friends, but Theo’s my best mate. And what you did, that shit’s just fucked up. Like seriously, I didn’t even know you were capable of that.” He says, disgust leaking out of his words.

“I’m sorry?” You say, confused by his words.

“Merlin y/n, I mean how dull can you be? You just expect everything to be all right after you not only completely ignore his letter where he fucking tells you he fucking loved you, but you turn up with some Levski (famous quidditch chaser) wannabe? I mean that’s some next level shit.” Mattheo says, getting up as he presents his rage induced speech.

“What letter?” You say, unaware of what he’s talking about.

Mattheo just stares at you, stuttering to get some words out.

“I said: what letter, Mattheo?” You say, much more sternly.

“Wait, so you’re telling me you never received it?” Mattheo asks, in shock.

“I don’t even know what I didn’t receive.” You say, exasperated.

“Just, wait right here, I’ll be right back!” Mattheo says, before running up the stairs towards the dorms.

You stand there in shock, your adrenaline pumping. Had you heard him right? Theo had sent you a letter confessing his love to you? How had you missed it?

“Here! Here! I have it!” Mattheo yelled, running towards you, waving a piece of parchment around in his hand.

“This. One.” Mattheo says, between breaths as he reaches you, handing you the parchment.

You rip it from his hands, reading it quickly yet thoroughly. Tears brim at your eyes, did he really feel this way? Merlin you felt so stupid, how could this have gotten lost?

“I-I…” you stuttered, unaware of what to say.

“Outside. He’s outside. Go!” Mattheo said, stilling catching his break.

“I- ok, thank you!” You say, before quickly running out the door, finding your way outside.

You see Theo sitting outside, smoking a cigarette. His face is illuminated by the moonlight and you swear in that moment that you’ve never seen anything more beautiful.

“Theo! Theodore!” You yell to him, as you run towards his figure. The grass was still wet from the rain that had fallen earlier that day, and the blades of grass began to stick to your calfs.

Theo looks at you, before getting up and attempting to escape you.

“Theo, wait, please! Mattheo just showed me the letter! I never got it!”

He stopped in his tracks, and slowly turned around.

“What?”

You finally catch up to him, breathing heavily.

“I never got your letter, I didn’t know about it until just now.” You explain, showing him the letter Mattheo had given you.

“What?” He said again, bewildered by what was going on.

“I wasn’t ignoring you, or your feelings. I just never got to read about them until tonight.”

“So, you’re telling me you never received it, at all?”

“No. I never got a letter.” You explain, your eyes searching his for some hint of how he was feeling.

“Did you read it?” Theo asked slowly.

“Yes, just now I did.”

“And…” Theo asked, hope returning to him and hitting him like a truck. He was filled with anxieties and he felts his stomach doing flips waiting for you to answer.

“Of course I’m in love with you, I thought I made it so obvious!”

“I thought I made it obvious!” Theo said with a laugh, all negative feelings and thoughts leaving his body and head at your confession.

“My heart quite literally beats for you, Teddy. I’ve never been so scared then when I thought I was losing you.”

“Really?” He asks. His eyes are lit up and he can barely contain his smile

“Yes you idiot!” You say, smiling wildly

“What about Dean?” He asks, afraid.

“Fuck Dean! It’s only ever been you, Teddy. It’ll always be you.” You say, staring up at him with nothing but love and devotion.

“Does this mean that you’ll have me?” He asks, grabbing your hands.

You nod vigorously, unable to get any words out as tears of happiness are threatening to spill if you utter a single word.

And with that, Theo dips down and kisses you. The kiss is deep and passionate. You two explore each others mouths, and your hands explore each others body. You taste every bit of each other, and feel each others hair, faces, arms, waists, chests, in ways that you’ve never felt before. You take this chance to make up for all the lost time you’ve spent pining for each other in secret. The kiss is hungry, yet gentle and Theo holds you close, as if if he doesn’t hold you as tightly as possible you’ll slip away from him. After a few minutes he pulls away, touching your forehead to his and holding your face in his hands.

“I’m so so sorry for believing the worst in you. I was just in so much pain. Ignoring you was the hardest thing I’ve ever done” He states, referring to the week prior.

“It’s ok, Teddy. Let’s not worry about that now.” You say, causing his lips to come crashing down on yours again.

[justjams2003]

The Saltiness of Flesh

Another Elvis one for you all. I recently went on vacation and this came to me after walking on the beach. Also, Over-ripe will be updated, I just needed to get this out of my mind.

Pairing: 1968!Elvis Presley x fem!reader

Summary: After Elvis' divorce fell through and the constant non-stop touring, he finally gets a moment alone on the beach. He finds a doll, shy and almost stand-offish and things suddenly bloom between them.

Warnings: Absolutely no hate to Priscilla, I love her so much, she is mother <3 In this story, they got engaged but broke up before they got married. Barely legal reader, flirting, but not much else.

Word count: 2,2k+ unedited

Dividers by: @firefly-graphics and @luvcsbn

Elvis can’t remember the last time he woke up this early. Salt lingers on everything when your hotel is next to the coast. And it’s so early that there aren’t any cars on the road yet, so it’s just the sound of the beach waves crashing that fills his ears. He groans as he sits upright, his feet hitting the fluffy carpet. He looks out, the waves match the fluff of the carpet. 

It looks so inviting, when was the last time he went to the beach? When was the last time he was alone like this? There’s always someone watching him, talking to him, waiting for him. But his rehearsal isn’t until 11:00, there’s nothing for him to do now... A smile, not big just barely, overcomes him. 

The wind blows and there is almost nobody on the beach today. It’s cold and he wraps his leather jacket closer around his body. His feet drag through the sand and dirties his fancy shoes. His hair is now tussled and he’s slightly regretting ever leaving his perfectly airconditioned hotel room. 

He sighs, his eyes going between the horizon just over the sea and the footprints in the sand. Step, step, step, and then the waves wash it away. He rolls his neck, and lifts his arms up as he stretches, maybe this isn’t so bad? The fresh air is a nice difference from the constant cigarette smoke from the other men. 

His mind feels...clear. Clear and he can finally think straight after weeks of non-stop traveling and preforming. He rubs his neck and then shoves his hands back into his jacket pockets. His feet dragging across the sand, following the footsteps that have yet to be washes away. 

The man sighs, if the media saw him now like this, they’d rip him apart. His engagement fell through, after one huge fight. Word and actions that he hadn’t wished he said and hadn’t done. Now, he’s all alone, walking along the beach on a windy-icy day in California. Thinking about where exactly did he go wrong? 

Was it his choice? He should’ve known in the beginning when she talked about working that she would never be completely his. She would never be as devoted as he wanted her to be. He should have known that she likely just wanted the fame and the money until it all became too much for her. Then she left, right before the start of comeback. 

The wind picks up again, throwing his hair to the side and he clenches his eyes shut so that the sand doesn’t scratch at his eyes. He continues trudging forward, stumbling as the sand fights for him to take another step. 

A voice causes him to snap his eyes open. “You should watch where you’re goin’ mister.” The first thing he sees are her dirty bleached jean dungarees. The way her shoulders sag while her hands are in her pockets. Her feet are covered in sand halfway up her calf. Hair, lightened by long hours in the sun, is wild in the wind. 

She’s standing next to a fishing pole that’s been planted into the sand, along with an old rusted pickup truck that’s strapped with other fishing poles. With an upturned button nose and these plump pick lips, she’s small, but not physically, more small in her presence. Like she doesn’t quite really want to be seen. 

The sun is just barely over the mountains, shining right on her sun-coloured hair and makes it look like a holy halo is just hovering on top of her head. Her head tilts up, looking up at him. Elvis gets that thump-thump feeling in his chest all over again. The beginning of falling and tumbling and needing to know more of this little thing. 

Her toes dig into the sand, making a small hole, uncomfortable. He hasn’t said anything and is just sort of looking at her with this smile that makes her feel warm like the sun. “I-I’m sorry, little lady, it’s quite windy isn’t it? Struggling to see.” He chuckles, all his charm suddenly gone and he feels like an awkward teenage boy talking to a pretty girl. 

Goosebumps are evident on her skin and she shivers when the wind blows. Her arms are bare and her dungarees short, not exactly shielding her from the harsh winds. She doesn’t say anything, just looks him up and down again, then nods. “What you fishin’ for?” 

She raises and drops her shoulders, “Just about anythin’ that’ll bite.” She mumbles, her nose scrunching as the sun begins reflecting on the water. A faint smile ghosts over his lips, she’s so pretty and the sun only seems to highlight it more. “Mind if I keep yah company?” He asks, needing to stay with her longer. 

Again, she shrugs, “I ain’t supposed to talk to strangers.” Small, again so small, not wanting to say no, not willing to say yes, too uncertain to make a choice. “Well, uh, I’m Elvis.” He expects her to have at least some recognition behind her eyes, but nothing. She mirrors his words with her own name. 

“See? Now we know each other. Now we ain’t strangers.” He speaks, giving his kindest smile. He can see she’s still wary of him, biting down on the inside of her cheek, nodding slowly. “Rare to see a pretty girl like you fishin’. Especially all alone.” Her lips part, pink and plump and suddenly her cheeks become the same colour. 

Her head turns, looking over at the rusty pickup truck. “I’m visitin’ my grandpa for the summer. He’s-” she turns back to face him, “-he’s gone to the little boy’s room. He’ll be back.” Elvis has to fight off a grin, knowing that she’s likely saying this as some sort of warning, as if he’d try something. 

Elvis nods his head, “Well, he’s lucky to have such a sweet little granddaughter visitin’ him.” He watches intently as her top teeth capture her lip, trying to fight a smile. Her cheeks stay this pink colour, either from blushing or the harsh wind. Again she just nods, unsure how to reply to that really. Small. 

“You catch anything yet?” He asks, his eyes falling to the empty bucket next to truck. This does seem to spark something in her. A huff, her heel kicking the sand, making it spat until it reaches the waves. “I’m actually not too good at fishin’...” she raises her head to look up at the top of the fishing pole. 

He can tell she’s trying to gauge if she has a catch by the way the pole bends. But it doesn’t, it stays pin straight. “My grandpa is tryin’ to teach me but...” she then looks back down at him. “...it ain’t workin’.” She huffs again, keeping her hands in her dungaree pockets. He can’t help but let out a hearty chuckle at her huffing and distaste for not getting this right. 

“Don’t laugh at me.” She snaps, her brows plucking together in a frustrated look. “I’m sorry, little one, yah just too cute.” Again, she doesn’t say anything, her eyes scrunching as she glares at him. As if willing him to unsay what he just said. Clearly not liking this idea of being cute. 

“Maybe the fishes are just shy today. They don’t know what to think of a beauty such as yourself.” He watches as she scoffs are rolls her eyes. “I don’t think the fish can see above the water.” She doesn’t get it. Doesn’t see the smooth words that he lures her with. “It’s true, really. That’s why pretty girls don’t fish. The fish are too shy.” 

He has a charismatic smirk, enjoying how she just looks past him. “Oh please.” She scoffs, rolling her eyes and then looking out at the beach. “It’s true, you’re unique.” This seems to make her even more upset. “Unique is just another way o’ sayin’ ugly.” She crosses her arms, protecting herself from his gaze. 

Elvis lets out a hearty laugh. “Is that so?” She nods, refusing to even looking at him. “My mama always says I’m unique when the pretty girls at school bully me. ‘You’re unique and they just don’t like that.’” Elvis just skips over the part where she talks about school, not really caring how old she is, they’re just friends. 

“You ain’t ugly in the slightest. You’re just as pretty as a flower in the bloom.” He can see the pain in her eyes when she says that. He knows well just how ruthless pretty girls can be. Just how deep their cruel words can cut and just how long the pain lingers. 

Her mouth opens to speak again, but her eyes fall to the sand when an old man suddenly appears. Presumably her grandpa. Elvis gives his classic grin and holds out his hand. “Mornin’ sir. Nice day for some fishin’, ain’t it?” The old man’s brows furrow and he raises his cap, to get a better look at him. 

The recognition is quick to come, he shakes his hand. “Why, aren’t you that Elvis Presley fellow?” He’s used to being recognised, but from a man this age, it catches him a little of guard. “The one and only. You’ve got a good set o’ eyes, sir.” The old man nods his head, walking over to his truck to fix up another fishing pole. 

There is a moment of awkward silence between the three of them. The girl’s head snaps around to him, her brows plucked together and her head tilted to the side. “You someone famous?” Her expression makes him chuckle, he shrugs his shoulders. “Somethin’ like that.” She hums and purses her lips. 

“Well, uh, I’m sorry I didn’t recognise yah, Mister Presley. I ain’t from ‘round here.” She stutters, suddenly feeling shy all over again. “That’s alright, youngin, where yah from then?” She licks her lips, dry from all the wind. “A little farm in a little town in Utah.” He furrows his brows, “I have performed in Utah before.” 

She purses her lips and shrugs. “Ma and Pa don’ like me goin’ out too much.” She shivers again, “It wasn’ this damn cold when I packed.” Again he chuckles slightly, “It gets windy on the coast.” Elvis begins to make quick work of the jacket he’s wearing. His long arm hold it out for her to take. Her eyes go wide and she shakes her head. 

“Here, Darlin’. Take my jacket and you won’t be shiverin’ no more.” Again she shakes her head. Holding out her arms to keep it away. “Oh no, sir, I couldn’t possibly.” Now he’s the one who shakes his head, placing the jacket in her arms. “Don’t be ridiculous, youngin. You’re shaking like a leaf in autumn. An’ you don’t wanna get sick durin’ yah vacation.” 

Reluctantly, she takes the jacket, having mauled it over for a few seconds. Her fingers glance over the embroidery of the letters “TCB”. She spells the letters out loud. “What’s that mean?” Her eyes look so curious when she looks up at him. “Means, ‘taking care of business’. Kinda the slogan of my life.” A slight smile plays on her lips, her thumb slides over his name on the bottom. 

She carefully shrugs it over her shoulders. It does look plenty big on her. He feels almost ready to eat her up, scoop her into his arms and never ever let her go. He curses himself for feeling so suddenly so...attached. Watching her every move, wanting her far closer than the few steps between them. 

Her eyes almost form this...sparkle in them. Big and beautiful and- “Lord save me...” his thoughts escape his mouth. Her little teeth come out and bite down on her lip, refusing to give him the satisfaction of a full smile. “What?” A slight chuckle comes out along with her word. “I could eat you for breakfast, little girl.” 

Usually, for compliments, she’d have a snarky remark ready. But his words take her so out of her little world. The way his eyes match what he’s saying makes it even more... She knows for a fact she’ll be replaying that moment over and over in her mind. If anyone ever says that no one wants her, she’ll retell this word for word. 

And suddenly she can just scarcely taste the saltiness of the flesh of his fingertips. Thumb tracing the trip of her lip. Faintly she feigns uncaring. But truly her heart is thump-thumping. Pinching and plucking at her pretty soul. “Let me see you again?” Grasping at air, grasping at words and coming up with but a nod. 

Pulled from his all keeping attention, unable to swim for else the water fills her lungs from those blue, blue eyes. It does not compare to the ocean they are forever now bonded by. Chain me, keep me, make me, let me be what you want from me. Words that do not fall from her lips, but instead only: “Grandpa’s house is on 13 Church street.” 

And a smirk and a grin and a nod and a goodbye. All so fast, all so quick, gone from his grip. And she licks, licks, at her lips, wanting to feel the burn of the salt on the tip of her brimming, beaming, bubbling body again.  

I'm gonna do a part 2 for sure. Please do tell me if you want to be added to that tag list <3

Part 2

[danosrosegarden]

Hey ur my favorote Eddie Nashton fic writer, if you're taking requests at all would you write something about reader throwing him a birthday party? I imagine he didnt get many in the orphanage :( Supposedly 7/21 is his birthday!

sweet tooth - edward nashton x gn!reader

{contains: brief mentions of past trauma but mostly fluff/celebrating edward :-)}

Edward got up for work early, when the sky was still a dark, milky blue-black and the air was still chill and silent.

40 today. He would rather not think about it.

He was perfectly fine with you forgetting. He could count on one hand the amount of happy birthday letters he had received in his four decades. He was fine without a stupid cake or colorful candles or glittering balloons. He was a fully grown man, not a selfish little child. Who needs them.

But while you're still sleeping in bed and he's putting on his jacket, getting ready to head out the door, he sees something shining on the kitchen counter. He walks over and sees a card. Sweeping, cursive letters and a drawing of a cupcake decorate the front.

It's Your Day!

The counter is bejeweled with small, glittering pieces of rainbow confetti. He doesn't notice that his hands are trembling as he opens the card.

Happy birthday, sweetheart. I hope this year is the year you flourish like never before.

I can't wait to celebrate you when you get home.

His stomach is churning as he places the card back on the counter and it stays twisting and turning throughout his day at work.

Not a single happy birthday, Edward! Not a card or confetti decorating his desk.

But you. You remembered.

He scoffs a laugh as you practically tackle him in a hug when he walks through the door.

"I'm so glad you're home, darling."

It takes genuine strength to blink back his tears as you shove a gift in his arms. It's wrapped in glimmering green paper.

He thinks of the orphanage as he tears it. He thinks of the children he shared a room with. He wonders where they are. How they could've bloomed like neon flowers in the beating summer sun if only they had been given a chance.

You looked worried as he peers at the gift: a thick book of crosswords.

"It's kind of stupid, but I thought you'd like it. It's supposed to be harder than the New York Times. I know you love a challenge."

He shakes his head and says nothing as he envelops you in a quiet, warm hug. You can feel his smile against your cheek and suddenly, it all is worth it. The nightmares that keep you both up and make your stomach cave in worry. The times you have to run your fingers through his hair and pat his back as he dry heaves into the toilet. The days where the world is too loud for him and his voice is far too quiet to fight back...it all is worth it if it means he could blossom with you. It wasn't easy, but getting to be a part of him would always be worth it.

You think of him, him in his entirety. His high, trembling giggle as he stumbled his way through a dumb joke. His compassion and dedication, the times he'd pick up market flowers for you or write you long, handwritten letters just because. The truth of the matter was that despite everything he had weathered, Edward Nashton was sweet. He was kind to you. He was yours, and there was nothing you'd trade that for.

Edward did not look forward to his birthday. He hardly remembered it when it rolled around each year. But then there was you. God, he never could've imagined that this would be his life. A life where he's celebrated, not crumpled like a piece of ruined paper and thrown away. A life where he's thought of and cared for, not just another number.

He is loved. That's all he could've wished for.

[midlandslady2]

I have heard some people complaining about the writing in episode 5. And I, who claimed that I would probably stop watching after this episode, was actually proven wrong.

I was proud of Daemon this episode. Him standing up to pay for Harrenhal renovations and working for it like the others even though he lacked the skill (I really liked that!).

Daemon not burning the men that did not side with him (we know Daenerys would have) and even admiring them for their bravery (another point for Daemon in my opinion).

Daemon showing regret for what was happening in the war (“war is a terrible thing”) because he believes a bigger evil will come at the hands of Aemond (and we know it’s true).

Daemon feeling so defeated when things go wrong and he fails again to prove (to Rhaenyra) that he can raise an army for their victory.

Daemon saying that he wants to be called king because he’s the husband of the queen is not wrong actually. And when he said that Rhaenyra cannot actively succeed the throne because the people will not rule under a woman is also true and we can see it even with the man at her own table. He even said “even if I wished her to.” And then he said “she can take her place at my side. King and Queen ruling together.” and it was clear in his face that this is his dream, for them to be together ruling. I loved that as well, that is how it should be, not one trying to command the other as Rhaenyra has been trying to do to him since ep 10 because she felt insecure that he would not be commanded by her. In truth he shouldn’t have to be because they should be one, one crown.

I also support his friendship with Alys as long as it stays on the friendly side and nothing else.

As for the dreaded scene, well I will just ignore it. The poor man was so confused by everything. He didn’t know that was his mother, I think. Because he was like “wtf?” and then he lost his appetite.

So overall, I am actually proud of him in a way I haven’t been since episode 8 of season 1.

Also Jace is awesome, I love Jace and I wish so deeply that he would not die this season because I want to see more of him. His death will devastate me I can already see. And the fact that he trusts Daemon more than Rhaenyra does, well! Go, Jace!

Rhaenyra is trying to find her own place in the war, which is good. Her friendship with Mysaria is nice so far. Both Rhaenyra and Daemon are so stubborn, they could already be together if they were not so proud to ask the other for help. She wanting to sword fight made me see young Rhaenyra shine through her for the first time. And I want her to do it!

Finally Baela is truly the daughter of Daemon and Laenor and granddaughter of Rhaenys, she is amazing as well. I got emotional on her scene with Corlys. I am also here for her relationship with Jace to start blooming because I love them together already!

[naomihatake]

In search of freedom (Ch. 7)

7. What do you wish for?

⠀⠀➺ fic masterlist

⠀⠀➺ Chapter 6 ; Chapter 7 ; Chapter 8

⠀⠀⠀⠀She's been searching for freedom her entire life and everytime she thought it was laying right in front of her eyes, she was mistaken. She was running around the East Blue, seeking herself and her dreams, meeting people she never forgot. No matter how much she traveled, she could only catch a glimpse of peace before realizing everything would crumble at her feet.

⠀⠀⠀⠀Maybe it was destiny that brought her on that ship with three strangers — foolishly, that's what she tried to believe when the moon shined beautifully and hope settled in her chest, squeezed by the same ribcage where feelings were blooming.

Pairing: female!reader x OPLA Zoro Roronoa

Warnings for this chapter: angst, graphic depictions of deaths and fatal wounds, self-harm, brief suicidal mention, canon-typical violence, tiny bit comfort at the end

Word count: 8,4 k

Theme song: fic spotify playlist (click on the link)

A/N: I'm glad I could finish the chapter so early and there are some scenes in here that I really loved writing. Also, I want you to pay close attention to the fight Witch has with the fishman. The anime watchers and manga readers that got far enough with One Piece will probably get it faster ;)

I'd be happy to hear your opinions on this chapter. Every interaction is appreciated and thank you so much for sticking to this story till now <3

The reader is referred to as "Witch" because I have no intentions of using "Y/N".

"What is your dream?"

While she would've rather expected that question to come from Luffy, the tipsy Zoro by her side, leaned against the mast, seemed to be rather intrigued by her reasons to remain with Luffy. 

When she turned her head towards him, one of her suppositions was proved to be right: the stars above shone beautifully, but nothing could compare to the swordsman's brown eyes. In the dark, his dark chocolate irises were swallowed by pupils dark as the depths of the oceans. No. Dark and beautiful as the night sky she teared her gaze away from. 

Her silence could've been interpreted in many ways and Zoro might become suspicious, but his already flushed state seemed to swallow everything in. He only looked back at her. 

The witch couldn't exactly spot the specific aura of his gaze. He wasn't only flushed because of the alcohol, no. He seemed… soft, even. His shoulders were relaxed and the grip on the empty bottle loosened up. 

His question was simply something she didn't expect, as he was always down to earth, similarly to Nami. However, there was a tiny difference — he proudly admitted he wanted to become the strongest swordsman in the world. 

"I—," the word left her lips like a mere whisper. 

Her determination faltered under the weight of the alcohol. Until that moment, after sharing some ugly parts of her past, his remarks made her laugh and chuckle happily. 

"I want to be free."

One simple wish that could have so many connotations. 

"I don't see any rope around your wrists."

His voice was like a low rumble coming from the depths of his chest, such a pleasant and soothing sound. 

Their eye contact didn't break. Their gazes were locked together and she couldn't bring herself to be mad about it, especially when she was drunk enough to let vulnerable sides of her poor soul see the light of the stars. 

Faint, shy, but it was there. 

"I want to be free from myself and the expectations everyone has of me," she clarified. "Free from the rules of the world, written or unwritten. Free from the Marines that are now on my tail."

"Why did you become a pirate if you wanted to be free from the Navy?" 

"The sea always looked like a place where I could be free," she admitted with a weak voice. The same tiny voice her younger self used to have when dreaming of a future. 

Zoro knitted his eyebrows together and blinked, staring at the small beauty mark on her face he just noticed. He seemed deep in thought or rather trying to figure out the meaning of her words. 

He was rarely so concentrated outside of critical situations like fights. 

"Are you free now, then?" 

With a gulp, she shook her head. 

"No." 

One word. One heavy weight on her soul. 

"How do you wanna be free?" came another question from the swordsman. 

"I have no clue."

The cage around her was a metaphor. She always felt like iron bars squeezed her tighter and tighter, until she broke down, a situation that occurred only a few times a year and was always hidden from prying eyes. 

Realistically, there was no free place in that world. The Marine wasn't by any means as righteous as they wanted to look like and they were certainly not saviors. Of course, there were plenty of pirates that did nothing else but harm everyone and everything they laid eyes on. Some of them had ugly souls, dark and dirtied by greed. 

However, there were plenty of people that were so-called pirates and yet never harmed unless they had to protect someone. Like Luffy or Usopp. They never took anyone's life. 

Like her father. 

She wasn't one of those pirates. The witch has killed people, even if never solely for blood thirst. Or, at least, not yet. She deserved to die, to never see the light of a new day. 

A personal justice system — that's what she's always had, that's what she grew to learn about from the crew she left barely a year ago. 

Deep down, she knew she would never be free. There was no liberty for a monster. 

When she looked at Zoro, she also wanted him to taste freedom on his tongue. Maybe he already knew what that felt like. 

If she couldn't find her own freedom, she could settle for protecting her friends' freedom. That would be more than enough, right? 

"Aren't you at fault for your own lack of freedom?" Zoro pulled her out of her thoughts. 

His question might've sounded as insensitive and accusing, but she was aware the swordsman didn't mean it that way. He always had his own way with words and, unfortunately, he got misinterpreted most of the time. 

He was simply stating a probable truth. 

Then I suppose I should get rid of my—

No. There was no time to think of such things, even if she was drunk and vulnerable. Admitting that to his face would be shameful of her. 

Maybe she wasn't that ready to share secrets yet, was she? 

"I most probably am," the witch whispered as she averted her eyes back to the sky splattered with stars. "At the end of the day, I'm the only one taking into account what others say and how they affect me." 

She didn't know exactly how to pursue freedom, but she was certain of something else: if that beautiful future stood in front of her, Zoro was probably one of the ways to find out. 

•┈┈┈•┈┈┈•┈┈┈•

The witch wasn't able to find freedom if she died at that moment, with the blue hand of a fishman gripping at her throat. There was a lingering ache at the crown of her head from when he pushed her against the wall. 

Her eyes squeezed shut while life seemed to slip from her hold, the same way her fingers lost their force while clutching onto the fishman's forearm. She had to find a way to get out of there, to breathe, because her lungs were already begging for some oxygen. Her vision was getting blurry and the pain in her entire throat spread like fire through her body. 

Maybe it was because of her hyper-aware state, but she could swear the wound on her bicep was bloody again considering the sharp pain shooting through her arm. 

No. There was no time to die and beg for forgiveness — and whose forgiveness could she ask for if she stays alive? Exactly. No one's. 

The witch didn't know if she breathed in air or it just felt awfully familiar to that sensation, but her lungs suddenly swallowed something fresh and powerful. It ate the pain hungrily, destroying every doubt in her mind the more she thought of her promises, of the corpse of a father who still whispered in her dreams "go find your freedom".

The grip on the fishman's arm grew tighter, stronger, until her nails dug into the scales and penetrated them. Her fingers ached, the skin around her nails scratched harshly by the sharp broken scales. Fresh blood surfaced. 

Her eyes opened up slowly, burning with each one of her promises, this time including her own — If I can't find freedom, I'll make it. 

Every nerve in her body burnt and she tasted drugs on the tip of her tongue, an addiction threatening to clutch onto her and take control. 

Power. 

The witch has never been one to love power, to ache for it and yet, there she was, with a devil-like grin growing on her face. 

Power. 

It ate her alive and she loved that sensation. The steadiness of her heartbeats, the cage of ribs that broke to make place for that overwhelming feeling. 

Power will never take control of me. 

Her eyes bore holes through the fishman's entire being. There was no need for her revolver when two shining irises had the same effect. 

Her vision and mind has never been clearer. 

The fishman was struck. A weight settled on his shoulders, pulling him down, doubts flickering in his head. 

Claws sank into his eyes, into his face and throat, clutching at his heart, threatening to pull it out of his chest. 

The fishman stumbled and dropped her. 

His strong grip on her throat left blooming red marks. They were ugly and her neck felt tender, but her nerves didn't register the pain properly because of the adrenaline running through her veins. 

The witch immediately took the opportunity, despite the lack of air in her lungs. She crouched down to take her gun, but before she could shoot again, a loud sound got her attention. 

The door of the restaurant broke at the floor underneath her when Luffy got thrown right into it by Arlong.

On the side of the stairs where Usopp crawled down was Sanji struggling to get back up after he cracked his back at the harsh contact with a table. 

People were hiding under chairs and bars from the fishmen's wrath. 

Her anger was fueled by each single detail. One of her shoulders felt light, while the other was heavy. The monster lurking inside her had one eye open — the same one that pushed her to cuss out Mihawk back when Zoro got a cut through his chest. The same monster she wouldn't trade anything for, because wrath has always been her forte. 

The small flame of revenge started burning in the pits of her stomach. Steadily. Still vague, easy to control. 

She ran down the stairs and passed by Usopp, who was at that moment helping Sanji get on his feet. The witch got out of Baratie, suddenly stopping in her tracks when she saw Arlong standing a few meters in front of her. 

That fucker—

Luffy shouted something along the lines of Gum Gum and she knew that was his fight to deal with. 

However, it was a fight she didn't know if he would win at that time, considering the way Arlong only turned his head to the side when he got punched in the face by Luffy's fists. The fishman spat blood on the wooden floor while he stepped closer and closer to the Straw Hat. 

In a fraction, the punch Luffy received sent him flying in the sails of a boat and he fell down with a thud, grunting. It was stupid of him to provoke Arlong further, but Luffy has never been to give up or let his enemies feel the satisfaction of a victory without a proper fight. 

The witch wondered if her captain didn't break a rib or two after being punched and thrown around for so long. He still had the energy to throw his fists into Arlong's face with all he's got, using his rubber arms to attack from meters away. 

His Devil Fruit powers were definitely the only reason why he was alive. 

But not for much longer. 

Arlong muttered something with a growl and once he sank his hand in the water, the witch knew it wasn't going to end well. 

The fishman didn't just splash Luffy; no, he soaked the Straw Hat to the bone and the hit with both sea water and brute force got Luffy to the ground. It was his biggest weakness. 

The witch's eyes widened when she saw Arlong grabbing at Luffy's shirt and lifting him in the air, opening his mouth to reveal razor-sharp teeth. 

Her feet carried her for only a second and she almost shouted out for Luffy out of despair — she would rather be stabbed in the stomach countless times than feel helpless again. Out of instinct, the hand holding the gun raised, aiming at—

"Arlong, wait!" 

Nami. 

The witch snapped her head towards her friend. 

The orange-haired woman stomped her feet and came, leaving the Going Merry behind her. The tank-top she wore exposed a strange old tattoo on her left shoulder. She was clutching tightly onto a thin and long cylinder. 

"I have it," she addressed Arlong. "I have the map." 

The map. 

"I got it for you, just like I said I would."

The witch blinked away the confusion that almost made her hazy and stepped in front of Nami, stopping her from moving forward. 

"Nami," the witch knitted her eyebrows together. "What's going on?" 

Nami's eyes held no clear emotion besides a flicker of anger. 

"Exactly what you knew all along."

It was one of those times when the witch wished her tarot was wrong. 

She shook her head, one of her hands gripping at Nami's wrist. 

"Nami," the witch squeezed her friend's hand tighter, scared it would slip from between her fingers. 

"Let go."

Nami snatched her arm out of the witch's hold and her jaw ticked. She wasn't only annoyed, there had to be more in her eyes. 

"You cannot possibly tell me you want to do this," the witch insisted, stepping even closer, until she was one breath away from the navigator. 

Their intense gazes clashed together and none of them let the walls fall. 

"But here I am, ain't I?" Nami cocked an eyebrow. 

When the orange-haired passed by, her shoulder collided harshly with the witch's who was still stuck in place. 

No fucking way. 

The witch needed time to think, she had to search for some clarification with her tarot cards. She needed more time to read the energy, to figure out the situation, to understand what, where, why and when. Nothing made sense and time passed by so fast she couldn't even process it all. 

Luffy was so disoriented he didn't even pour enough force in his hands to get rid of Arlong's grip on the collar of his shirt. 

"Nami?" he firmly spoke. "What are you doing?"

"I tried to tell you, Luffy," Nami continued walking towards him. "I was never on Your crew. I only joined up with you so I could steal the map." 

"I don't believe that," Luffy denied. 

"That's because you only believe what you want to believe. Doesn't make it true."

Nami, for fuck's sake, we both know you're lying—

The witch opened her mouth, ready to argue, to yell from the top of her lungs, but with one glance thrown to Arlong, she stopped. Saying the wrong thing might get Nami in great danger and she might lose credibility in front of him. 

"Sister Nami's a loyal member of the Arlong Pirates," Arlong started speaking, pointing with his chin towards the one in question. "She has been for years."

The witch didn't know why she still protected Nami, but she was certainly not going to give up on her friend at that time. 

Nami shoved the map in Arlong's nose to get his attention to her — or maybe the witch has gotten to another level of delusion. 

"Why waste your time killing a Devil Fruit eater?" Nami reminded the fishman as if it wasn't a death sentence. "Let the sea do it for you."

"Nami, this is too far, cut the crap—" the witch revolted immediately. 

Before she could make any step towards Luffy, she was grabbed by the back of her neck and launched into the wall of Baratie with sheer force — it was one of Arlong's asshole crewmates. She groaned in pain and squeezed her eyes. The shoulder she fell on sent sharp spikes through the entire left side of her body. 

She cussed out, struggling to get back to her feet when Arlong let Luffy drown in the sea. The witch let out a shout of the Straw Hat's name and one of her knees betrayed her, resulting in another unceremonious fall to the ground. 

Lucky for her, an arm curled around her front to help her up, a silver ring resting on the finger of the man. 

"Luffy fell in the water, go now!" she didn't even wait to be properly raised to her feet to urge Sanji to jump. 

Her aching body and the lack of strength wouldn't help her get Luffy out of the sea. She didn't even clearly notice when the cook left her side and jumped into the sea, too caught up in the agitation inside of her. Events passed by her faster than light. All she saw was a discarded shirt. 

She wasn't sure because of what powers she managed to walk on the deck, at the edge where the other two should appear from under the water. Her head turned when she recognized Usopp from her peripherals.

"Luffy?" he asked, panic building up as his hands shook. 

The witch would have responded if not for the answer to appear right under their noses. Sanji held Luffy tightly by the collar and pushed him on the dock with Usopp's help who dragged him. 

The witch extended her hand to bring Sanji on the dock with them and since then, things turned blurry despite her open eyes. 

•┈┈┈•┈┈┈•┈┈┈•

Now the only woman in the crew, the witch sat on the floor in the room that used to be Nami's, her back leaning back against the wooden wall. With eyes devoid of life, she stared up at the ceiling while pulling her knees closer to her chest, once again trying to hide herself from everyone. From everything. 

On Nami's bed there was still an inert swordsman and he didn't even flinch when she tentatively said his name after entering the room. 

"Fucking dammit," she squeezed her eyes shut. 

Nami left. Zoro was unconscious. Luffy almost drowned if not for Sanji. Usopp was bluffing about how "everything has to be alright". 

She didn't know if he was trying to convince himself or her. 

Because everything was wrong. It felt wrong. 

The witch took in a deep breath, but only half of the oxygen she inhaled got to her lungs and brain because of her constricted throat. Tears were sitting on her waterline for the fourth time that day. 

Too much happened since the crack of dawn and it wasn't even sunset. 

Exhaustion made her look years older than she was. Her head fell forward, forehead hitting her knees before the light sneaking through the windows could fall on her face. 

Tears filled with anguish ran down her cheeks and it was the first time she allowed herself to let at least an ounce of the weight on top of her body dissipate. The droplets of pain melted down her cheeks and sank into the material of her shirt. 

The witch sneaked her arms around the back of her thighs and squeezed herself tighter in a ball, lips trembling. Her breathing was ragged not only because of the lump in her throat, but also because of the firm grip that fishman had on her neck. The skin was sensitive to the touch and it hurt to swallow. 

Every event of that day got added one on top of another. Her fight with Zoro, the fact that he was unconscious after that dwell, Nami leaving just like the witch expected to.

Betrayal. Maybe I was a fool for trusting her. 

Or am I? 

Teeth sank so deeply into her lower lip it drew blood and she tasted copper on the tip of her tongue. 

Pain. That was right. 

The only right thing happening that day was the physical pain. Palpable, real, bringing her back to earth. 

Except that time it failed, because the tears didn't stop. She squeezed her eyes shut as sharp pain traveled through her body, from her chest into her limbs, puncturing each nerve, shaking her to the core. 

Her soul screamed, caged by sorrow, an ugly animal that sank its fangs into her flesh and ripped from the inside. Blood was pouring from her heart, soaking organs and bones, melting into the skin like acid. It burnt so fastly, yet it never seemed to end. With a throbbing head, she couldn't hold the pain back anymore. 

However, no sound ever left her lips parted in a silent scream. No whimper, no sob, no cry for help. The room was filled with silence as a heartbeat drummed in her ears in an agonizing rhythm. 

I shouldn't have come on this ship in the first place. Only if I had been wise enough to leave when I got the chance. Syrup Village was a perfect option, I could've gone on another ship and continued my mindless traveling. Why did I bother myself with this? Why did I suddenly decide it was a great idea to be part of another crew when this only has brought me suffering? 

With each second, she willingly aimed the gun at herself and every word was like a bullet. 

I should've left. I would've been happier. I should've left it all behind when I realized this won't go well. Fuck the premonitions, fuck the destiny, damned be the world. 

A body stripped of clothes and skin, only burnt flesh left behind the monster's bites. Broken ribs and a shattered heart pumping a meaningless life. 

As seconds passed by one after another and her tears came to an end, the gentle swinging of the ship pulled her into a half-asleep state.

She noticed when Luffy came into the room and she was aware of his position on Zoro's bed — the cracking of the wood gave him away. As the Straw Hat talked, she only heard the swordsman's name being spoken, some words here and there, but most of his monologue was muffled. 

He probably thought she was asleep because of her slow and steady breathing. 

Exhaustion was clawing at her muscles and brain, but something kept her aware of the surroundings for a few more minutes. 

Everything turned pitch black in her perspective. A husky and deep voice made her believe she was dreaming, the tips of her mouth curling shily upwards. 

Only if it would've been reality. 

"Zoro!" 

Her entire body flinched and she raised her head, wide eyed. If she didn't know any better, she would've said her soul jumped out of her. 

"Luffy?" she whispered, confused on why he yelled the swordsman's name—

"You're not dead!" Luffy shouted again, loud enough for everyone in Baratie to hear. 

He's alive? the witch thought to herself. I really heard his voice. 

Luffy crawled on top of Zoro and squeezed the life out of him. Literally. 

"Now I wish I was," she heard Zoro mumble between grunts. 

He was alive. 

The witch's lungs filled with fresh air for the first time that day. Relief washed over her and her body relaxed, shoulders deflating as some of the weight sitting on them fell into the sea below. 

While leaning her body against the wall, she managed to get up just to get a better view of the swordsman who was squinting his eyes at the ceiling. A heavy sigh escaped her lips, head falling forward. 

At least one thing went right, didn't it? 

After Luffy got up from above Zoro, the swordsman managed to take some deep gulps of air, chest raising up and falling rhythmically. 

"I had the strangest dream that Nami left," he said with a frown on his face as he closed his eyes. 

"She did," the witch responded faintly. 

There wasn't enough courage in her to look at him as she said that, instead choosing to glance at the window. 

Zoro looked again at the ceiling and realized her voice was too faint for all of that to be a mere joke, a prank thrown at him for staying unconscious for… for how long? 

"It's my fault," Luffy said with his chin lowered.

From the corner of his eye, Zoro saw the witch place a hand on their captain's shoulder. 

"We'll find a way."

There was a promise etched onto her fragile smile. As if a simple brush of air or one wrong world could make her crumble. 

But she didn't. Instead, she threw a knowing look to Zoro and silently told him to talk with Luffy. She knew the Straw Hat needed his first mate's support at that moment. 

What confused Zoro the most was watching the witch get out of the room without too much of a word. Her hair bounced as she stepped further away from him and their friends. Even as his ribs and body hurt at every inhale, he wanted to understand the real reason for her leaving. 

Last time they talked, she expressed worry. What happened in the meantime? What the fuck went wrong? 

There was a fat chance she was still mad at him for whatever reason. Sure, she was calm, collected, but he could swear he's seen fire burning in her eyes more than just once and a grin splayed on her face at the thrill and adrenaline of a fight. She snapped at him when they fought and he had to admit it would've been sadder if she treated him with silence. 

However, he didn't know if that was silence or something more. 

Weird, he concluded. 

His attention went back to Luffy. The swordsman couldn't manage watching the ever happy-go-lucky captain speak like a ghost. 

"You didn't do anything wrong." He seriously hoped he could find the right words to bring Luffy back to reality. 

There's no way that crew would fall apart without a proper fight. What has been was just the beginning. 

"You acted like a captain."

"But the crew is falling apart," Luffy pulled his lips in a tight line. 

"No, it's not," the green-haired firmly affirmed. 

Maybe a lot more than Zoro thought has happened, but that was definitely not the end. 

•┈┈┈•┈┈┈•┈┈┈•

Before the sun could set and hide in the sea, they gathered some supplies for their new journey. They found out from the clown head — who they found out told Arlong where to find the Straw Hats — that Nami was most probably heading to Conomi Islands, specifically Cocoyashi Village. Sanji joined their crew, which made Luffy jump in excitement for the second time that day. 

Luffy's folded arms were resting over the railing of Going Merry while he stared down at the water splashing against the ship. 

"Does it always take so long?" Luffy spoke so softly. 

Sanji chuckled with the fishing rod in his hand as he waited for a fish to catch the bait. 

"We've only been here for two minutes, be patient," the cook reminded him. "Some days, they bite as soon as you drop the line and some days, it takes hours."

Then, he threw a knowing glance towards Luffy with an arch of his eyebrow. 

"But we're not talking about fishing, are we?" 

"I highly doubt it," the witch mumbled as she curled her fingers around her tarot deck. 

She didn't dare to shuffle through the cards again, a side of her afraid of what was waiting for them. It felt uneasy everytime she got the impulse of taking the cards out and finding out which one of them holds the truth. 

The witch was leaning with her back against the railing, not so far away from the Straw Hat, pressing her fingertips into the old box made of cardboard that fit perfectly in her hands. 

Luffy smiled towards Sanji before he stared into the horizon with hope. 

"I just want to know if Nami's okay."

"A beautiful, talented woman does not choose to ally herself with a pirate like Arlong," Sanji said firmly, convinced of his beliefs. "Nami clearly needs to be rescued." 

The witch breathed in deeply and widened her eyes, trying to find the right words to tell them what she knew. A pair of heavy steps caught her attention and she immediately recognized the chiming filling the air. 

Zoro. His hand was resting on his Wado Ichimoji — his only sword now. 

"Her tattoo says different," he said. 

The way he looked at the witch was bringing back to life some shattered pieces of her soul. He might look serene when sleeping, but he was better that way — wide awake and an asshole. 

Also, he noticed something she couldn't pinpoint. There must've been a scar on her face, most probably. At first, he only stared at her face, just to lower his gaze. Oh. She didn't sleep for two days and got in a fight with a fishman, which left some nasty bruises on her bare neck. 

"Well," Sanji argued, "tattoos don't tell the whole story. And like any woman, she's a mystery to be unraveled."

"Am I supposed to feel flattered?" the witch arched her eyebrow at the cook after she turned her head towards him. 

Right at that moment, Zoro stepped between her and Luffy, restricting her view. All she could see was his chest, bandaged and with a red patch in the center. 

"You should change your bandages," she looked up at him. 

However, the witch was hesitant when she did so. As if the man in front of her could vanish in thin air. 

Zoro turned to Sanji and decided to completely ignore her comment. 

"Nami made her choice." 

The cook immediately frowned, creases appearing on his forehead. His scowl was deeper than Zoro's.

"You don't know why," Sanji retorted. 

As if getting snapped by Usopp, Zoro scoffed: 

"The only thing I want to hear from you are dinner specials. You don't know Nami."

"Sounds like you don't know her either, Mosshead," Sanji spat with a taunting smile on his lips. 

"Oh God, stop, you two," the witch sighed heavily, annoyed. 

Just to get the swordsman's attention to her, she poked his back with the tip of her finger, digging deep enough to receive a light flinch. It seemed like she took him by surprise. She bent her back more as she continued resting her elbows on the railing to glance at Luffy over Zoro's shoulder. 

"I'm sure Nami has her reasons," their captain nodded. 

"I know Nami's reason."

All of their heads turned to the witch. 

Usopp was just walking up the stairs of the forecastle when his eyes sparkled curiously.

"What are you guys talking about?" 

"Nami," Zoro said quickly. "Why didn't you say anything until now?" that time, his sharp words were directed to the witch. 

The witch shot him a glare, displeased by his reaction. However, she would've acted the same if someone was to hide something so important. 

"It would've felt unfair to tell you before talking with her," the witch clarified. 

"You talked with her about it?" Usopp suddenly intervened, surprised by the news. 

The witch gripped at the tarot deck in between her hands tighter and clicked her tongue, trying to find the best words to explain. 

"I did. Somehow," uncertainty latched onto her voice. 

None of them rushed her anymore so she took her time. 

"Listen, this isn't as easy as it seems to be. Yes, Sanji, she didn't willingly get into Arlong's crew."

A snarky remark sat on the cook's tongue and he wanted to throw it Zoro's way. 

"But," the witch continued in order to stop an eventual argument, "she's fully aware of her actions. She was forced by the circumstances to do what she's doing, but it doesn't mean she likes acting like Arlong's crewmate. Nami certainly hates him from the bottom of her heart. He did something. Something that forced her to act like she's a friend just to protect something or someone. Or both. She's not only protecting herself, she's protecting what's most dear to her heart."

It wasn't the witch that spoke, but the gut feeling she had. Her thoughts didn't seem so clear in months, since her last successful tarot reading. Now, as the significance of each card sank into her brain, she knew what everything meant. 

It wasn't her that spoke, but her intuition. 

"She's keeping us away because she's scared we'd get hurt, not only because we would get in her way. Nami cares about us and that's exactly why she's pushing us away."

"Who does that?" Zoro wondered out loud. 

Maybe he should've kept that to himself. 

"You do that," the witch's head snapped towards him. "I do it. And Nami does. She said she tricked us — which was true. At the same time, she's tricking Arlong. He isn't her crewmate, he's an asshole that stole something from her—"

The witch got so carried away she didn't even realize what she just said. She suddenly furrowed her eyebrows into the void and received confused looks from her friends. 

"He stole something. Her freedom."

Those words were said as she actively figured the details out, staring into the void. 

"Witch?" Usopp nudged her. 

"Yes?" she turned towards him. 

"Did she tell you all these things?"

There was a light chuckle that left her lips at that question. 

"The cards did. Her reactions just gave her away and answered my doubts." 

The witch knew what games she was playing. She's been doing these things for years and not only — she trusted her gut feeling above everything else. 

She received an especially confused look from the cook, who had no clue why she was called a witch. He probably supposed it was because she was beautiful or maybe secretive. 

He should've taken that nickname literally. 

"What do we do then?" Zoro turned his head towards their captain. 

Luffy listened intently to everything the witch had to say and he made up his mind since long ago:

"I want to hear her decision for myself."

"That's for the best," the witch nodded. 

There was more she would've liked to say, but speaking from the gut was both easier than usual and harder when tired. Considering the last time she got some proper sleep was before they got attacked by the Marines, she could say it's been long enough for her mind to get clouded. 

Stuck in her thoughts as she was, the grip on her tarot deck loosened up and the object fell from her hold on the wooden floor. The witch's exhausted brain registered that too many seconds later. 

A deep frown appeared between her eyebrows, blinking in an attempt to clear her vision while she bent down to take the deck in her hand. 

Obviously, she failed. 

When her back was straight again, her vision went pitch black and a heavy throbbing settled in her temples. The ship swayed worse than a second ago. She groaned and pinched the bridge of her nose, eyes closed. 

The witch has been in that situation before. She stood still, because attempting to walk would've ended in a passionate kiss with the floor. 

When the sensations dissipated little by little, tiredness was everything left behind. 

"I'm gonna get some rest," she mumbled, the words a little slurred. 

With her eyes now opened wide enough to see where she's heading, she walked towards the stairs and cussed them out one by one. 

Falling like an idiot wasn't on her to-do list for that day. 

By some miracle, she managed to walk all the way into the galley. The room she shared with Nami was hers, but it was too far away. Her feet barely carried her to the dark red sofa she let her body fall on like a sack. 

She didn't care about the clothes she hasn't changed from, too caught up with everything that has happened. There was enough time for a shower later, when exhaustion wasn't seeping into her bones. The only thing she had the decency to do was to take her boots off. 

She stretched her legs and put an arm under her head, resting on her side to face the room. Not the most comfortable place to sleep in, but after all of that tumult, nothing mattered anymore. 

The sweet sound of jingling disturbed her again. 

Oh, god dammit. 

She was one breath away from cussing Zoro's ass and his earrings — despite being in ecstasy that he woke up. The witch, as if expecting his next move, bent her knees to make space for him. The swordsman plopped himself down with a grunt at the other side of the sofa and her bare feet touched his thigh. 

She didn't dare mutter a word about his presence. Zoro could stay. Gosh, as she was thinkingln about it, she could only believe it was a blessing he wasn't only awake, but also throwing remarks her way. 

It was so much better than telling stories of her past to an unconscious Mosshead. 

Right. 

The edges of her mouth curled in a smile. 

"What?" 

"Mosshead," she chuckled, eyes still closed. 

Zoro let out a scoff and she could imagine him rolling his eyes to the ceiling. 

"Didn't you say you were going to rest?"

His voice was unusually low and even soft, pulling her towards the dreamland. 

"I'd say this place is perfect," she mumbled.

The witch didn't bother to explain she was tired out of her mind or that her feet would most likely betray her if she dared to get up. 

The silence was filled with their breathing and the sounds of the water splashing against their ship, the cracks of the wood. She remembered the times when she traveled with her father's crew and she would many times fall asleep curled next to a barrel while the vice-captain was still singing sea shanties in the middle of the night. 

"Zoro," the witch whispered. 

She was too weary to care about what left her mouth. It acted like alcohol — it clouded her mind and she felt shameless. 

"What if I wouldn't have stepped on this ship?" 

That question plagued her mind and she finally said it out loud. 

"So the last ship was more to your taste?" he snickered. "It almost sank in the sea." 

"You're such an ass," and while that phrase might've sounded harsh in the past, at that moment it was filled with fondness. 

"Been told that before." 

I really missed that voice. 

"For someone with a big ass bruise on your neck, you sound more like a coward than I thought."

Maybe she deserved that serious tone thrown her way. Was he right? Only halfway through. 

"No," she was stubborn enough to fight the sleep for a few more minutes. "What if I would've been happier? Y'know, less worries, no people to haunt my ass. No anxiety."

No crying over you for being almost dead. 

The continuation sat on the tip of her tongue and got swallowed back with a gulp. Was there really a need for an admission? Puffy eyelids and dark circles under her eyes, chapped lips and bandages around her forearm soaked in blood. Those details were enough proof. 

"Do you hate us that much?" his low voice sent shivers down her spine. 

"It's not about that. Just…" she gulped and curled her fingers around the tarot deck she was still holding onto. "I want some peace."

"I say you should get some sleep." 

•┈┈┈•┈┈┈•┈┈┈•

Standing on the deck felt right, even if the witch doesn't remember why she was there. She can't point out the weather clearly, it feels blurry. Seconds ago she was in the kitchen talking with Sanji about some unusual topic she couldn't remember. 

Then why was she suddenly on the deck, face to face with a kneeling Zoro who had two swords piercing through his upper body from behind? She didn't only know it was him, she felt like it was him, as if the pieces connecting in her head were just right. However, it horrified her. Everything around him was blurry except for him. 

Him, whose essence of life was pouring down his body, creating a puddle under him, sinking into the cracks of the wooden floor. The crimson liquid melted into his white t-shirt. Now that she was looking better at it, she noticed the sharp point of a sword penetrating all the way through his stomach to the front side of his body. 

He was looking up at her, despite the way his chin was tilted down. Those sharp brown eyes were boring holes through her. His beautiful irises painted with the warm nuances of chocolate and coffee were scary, like no other time. 

Was Luffy next to her? It feels like it was him, even if she can only distinguish a silhouette in the corner of her right eye. 

Why was Zoro looking at her like that? She couldn't move, as if her feet were stuck in place. She didn't know if she was breathing or if she was alive anymore. She didn't know why she was on the deck, why those swords took his life away. It barely made any sense that he had enough energy to stare at her. 

He didn't falter once. He didn't beg for help, her name didn't come out of his mouth, no groans, no nothing. 

She couldn't move. As she stood in the same place, her anxiety was rising up, up, up, until she felt like panicking despite the lack of reaction. She felt like exploding, but she couldn't express those horrific feelings. 

She couldn't help him. Her arms were stuck by the sides of her body, as if someone had put a spell on her. She had the will to move her legs, to get closer to him, she wanted to, but she remained glued in that spot. She couldn't feel her body. 

She had to do something, but she was trapped inside an unmoving object that was her own body. Why? 

Everything snapped. 

The smallest hope towards an escape woke her up. Her eyes opened instantly and she raised up in a sitting position, eyes frantically searching for more clues, for answers about the horrifying images she just saw before her eyelids. 

Her heart was beating so fast it made her wish she didn't have it at all, a deafening ba-dump repeating in her eardrums over and over again. 

Unfortunately, she was face to face with the swordsman she dreamt of. Instantly, as if she was shot, she looked at his upper abdomen. For no more than two seconds, she saw a big black patch on his bandages. 

She inhaled deeply and her heart was beating faster, suddenly unable to release that breath of air. Her eyes widened and her hands shook, chest tight. 

"Hey," she heard more of a background sound. 

She blinked countless times, until her tired brain figured out that it was just her imagination. It was so dark in the room and her nightmare was a shock, the reason why at some point the patch started blurring out, inviting her to blink until it turned to be one small spot. It has been there since he woke up from his slumber. 

When the realization sank in, she let go of that breath and let out a pitiful whimper. Deep inside, it felt like relief, her eyes now squeezed shut. 

This time, he clearly called her name after his fingers securely gripped at her shaking shoulders, avoiding her wound. Her hands were trembling, her entire being disturbed. 

Zoro said her name, not the nickname she got so used to hearing on that ship. Not the usual Witch, a word that sounded so endearing coming from her crewmates; no, it was her name and it was spoken so softly she could've confused him for someone else. 

She had a poor attempt at recalling those images in order to figure out the reality, but it backfired. The bloody scene stuck before her closed eyes pushed her to open them up again. 

Thankfully, his dark gaze was warm, filled with unspoken worry. For a brief moment she wondered how he woke up, since he slept like the dead sometimes. 

"I'm surprised I managed to wake you up," her voice trembled. 

He didn't joke back at her. Instead, his thumbs started rubbing slow circles into her shoulders in order to bring her back to earth. Or, better said, back to the ship that was peacefully sailing on the sea during the night. 

"I think you should correct your breathing," he pointed out. 

Once she changed from autopilot breathing, it felt like her throat was tight. 

"Breathe in."

Blindly, she trusted his instructions. That mere breath shook her again, feeling shivers when she allowed the oxygen to sink into her lungs, the same way his voice sank into her being, in the cracks of her soul. 

It took a few minutes until that normal bodily process didn't seem like an impossible task. Her muscles were tense until Zoro squeezed her shoulders again. 

She could distinguish more of his face than just the warmth she noticed not long ago. His expression seemed pained with worry and not from a wound that could kill him, even if there still were bandages wrapped around his torso. Maybe it was also fear that made him look so different from usual; or was it confusion? 

"I'm sorry for destroying your sleep."

It was half a lie. She wasn't sorry about the touch keeping her afloat, about how she managed to breathe again only because of his presence, because he was clearly awake and alive. At the same time, she knew he needed to rest so his wound could heal properly. 

"Be serious," he huffed in a lower voice, clearly displeased. 

"I am. You should sleep."

"Just like you should, but I doubt you will."

"I'd argue about that."

She was still tired, even if her shock from earlier struck her like thunder. Her eyes could close at any moment, which she feared, because another nightmare didn't sound good even for how stress resistant she became. 

Since he heard her soft whimper when she was still sleeping, he had no clue what to do, how to act. One thing was clear: it was better to wake her up, despite the possibility she might get defensive and attack. 

Alright, now what the heck do I do? He's had nightmares before, he's seen horrendous things during his sleep countless times, but he didn't have any idea about what to do for her. Was he even supposed to do something? She didn't like being pampered — maybe he should act like nothing happened. However, the fear coloring her face earlier shocked him as well. The witch has always been collected, she had such a firm grip on her reactions it was annoying sometimes. 

The swordsman shook his head, but didn't let go of her. Instead, he leaned against the cushions on his side, while his hands fell down to her forearms to get a comfortable position of his limbs and upper body. The wound on his chest sent daggers through him at each movement. Barely a day of consciously dealing with it and he's already got annoyed. 

The witch looked down at where their bodies were connected. His long calloused fingers were securely wrapped around her arms, close to her wrists. When did her legs end up in his lap she didn't know. Her bare knee tingled with warmth — why? 

"You had a weird reaction after you woke up," his whisper stirred something in her heart. 

"What do you mean? I had plenty of reactions."

Are you playing the idiot with me? Zoro thought. 

"You were more scared of seeing me than of the nightmare."

"Oh."

Why did the Mosshead have to be so observant? It was one of the reasons why she was attracted to him, evidently, but sometimes he exposed her too easily. 

She dropped her chin and looked down at her own hands. Admitting that she feared his role as the main character of a tragedy for the second time felt embarrassing for some unknown reason. She's been in enough humiliating situations and he never ridiculed her. 

Zoro was utterly stuck. Was he supposed to move away? His body felt too heavy to get off the sofa and go to his room. It wouldn't be alright leaving her alone with her crippling anxiety either, considering she was prone to overthinking. 

He wanted to do something, but what? 

He let out a long sigh and rested his head against the cushions, his fingers still curled around her wrists. Her pulse was fast, but as seconds passed by, it slowed down under the weight of his thumbs. 

The witch became hyper aware of the situation, but it felt too good to move away. Her tired brain entirely registered his presence and her eyes closed. She breathed in the chill air of the night and, while focusing so intently on Zoro's presence, she fell into a deeper state of mind, half asleep. 

He was disturbed from his own journey into the dream realm when he felt a light weight on his shoulder. Once his eyes opened, he saw the cause: she leaned in closer to him, clearly unaware. 

He smelled like the sea and the familiar scent of soap clung to the unbuttoned blue t-shirt he wore. With her forehead resting against his neck, the witch could vaguely point out his pulse. The safety of his embrace lulled her into a dreamless sleep while she focused on his slow breathing and the secure grip he had on her.

Zoro filled her senses so fiercely it was impossible not to melt into him, inhaling and exhaling in sync with him. 

The swordsman had different sentiments about this and they were all confusing. 

What am I doing? he scolded himself.

He moved his head and angled his face so he could look at the right side of her sleeping face. With long eyelashes resting over her soft cheeks, she looked like she didn't have a worry in the world, even if he knew better. Her shoulders would rise and fall rhythmically in such a slow pace, making him wonder what exactly exhausted her so much. 

Then, his gaze fell on the purple marks on her neck and his jaw clenched. If he would've been awake when Arlong appeared at Baratie, maybe none of them would be like that. Maybe he would've had enough stubbornness to get answers from Nami and maybe Luffy wouldn't have been so close to drowning. Maybe those marks on her neck wouldn't have been there in the first place. 

What the fuck am I doing? 

Giving up, he rested his head back against the cushions with a scowl. He didn't understand himself and it was even harder to understand the woman sleeping so peacefully, too close to him. 

Zoro let out a low displeased sound and closed his eyes, deciding to rest for a while. He didn't dare move away or wake her up either. 

First and foremost he was displeased about the fact that he liked the proximity. 

I wonder what that fishman's face looks like. It'll surely be a pleasure to slice him in half.  

Tag list: @emelia07 @dimplewonie @tfamidoingwithmylife @murnsondock @the-skys-musical-echo @conspiracy-crows @hallow33nz @ramae17 @gaslysainz @bunntsu @katt58 @katiemrty @hopefulrascalstatesmantoad @freyademartel @boofy1998 @ponyboys-sunsets @melsunshine @loveyluv7 @waddlingwanderer @jesssssmaybankk @nadlx33333 @yoong1c0re @untoldshortsofthefandoms @mizzy-pop @zoromyluv

[srslyblvck]

fairytale, nikolai lantsov

pairing: nikolai x fem!reader

synopsis: nikolai is lucky to have Y/n by his side.

warnings: fluff

word count: 0.3k

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ THE EARLY MORNING LIGHT filtered through the lace curtains of the grand bedroom in the palace, casting a soft, golden hue over the room. Nikolai Lantsov, King of Ravka, stirred slightly, the warmth of the morning sun gently waking him. He turned his head, his eyes slowly opening to the sight he cherished the most: Y/N, his beloved wife, still peacefully asleep beside him.

Nikolai watched her for a moment, a soft smile playing on his lips. Even in sleep, she looked regal, her hair spread out over the pillow like a halo. He reached out, gently tucking a stray strand behind her ear, his fingers lingering on her soft skin.

"Good morning, my love," he whispered, his voice barely audible.

Y/N stirred, her eyes fluttering open to meet Nikolai's warm gaze. She smiled sleepily, reaching out to touch his face. "Good morning, Kolya," she murmured, using the affectionate nickname only she was allowed to call him.

Nikolai leaned in, pressing a tender kiss to her forehead. "Did you sleep well?"

"With you beside me? Always," she replied, her smile widening.

They lay there for a few moments, enjoying the peaceful silence and each other's company. Nikolai's hand found its way to Y/N's, their fingers intertwining. He brought her hand to his lips, kissing it gently.

"I wish we could stay like this forever," he said softly.

Y/N chuckled, a melodic sound that always made Nikolai's heart soar. "So do I, but I’m afraid the kingdom might fall apart without its king and queen."

Nikolai sighed dramatically, a playful glint in his eyes. "A king's duty never ends, does it?"

"Unfortunately not," she replied, her eyes twinkling with amusement. "But I wouldn't trade it for anything."

Nikolai's expression softened, and he leaned in to kiss her, their lips meeting in a slow, tender kiss. "Nor would I," he whispered against her lips.

They eventually got out of bed, Y/N moving to the window to pull the curtains aside fully. The view of the palace gardens was breathtaking, the flowers in full bloom, the morning dew glistening on the petals.

Nikolai came up behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist and resting his chin on her shoulder. "Do you remember our first walk in those gardens?" he asked, his voice filled with nostalgia.

"Of course I do," she replied, leaning back into his embrace. "It was the day you finally told me you loved me."

Nikolai chuckled. "And I thought I was being so subtle."

"You were about as subtle as a herd of stampeding volcra," she teased, turning in his arms to face him.

He laughed, the sound warm and rich. "Well, it worked, didn't it?"

"It did," she agreed, standing on her tiptoes to kiss him again. "And it still does."

Nikolai sighed happily, resting his forehead against hers. "Every day with you feels like a dream, Y/N. I never want to wake up."

"Then don't," she whispered. "We'll face everything together, as we always have."

They stood there for a moment longer, savouring the quiet intimacy of the morning. Eventually, they dressed and prepared to face the day, hand in hand, ready to rule Ravka together.

As they walked down the grand hallway of the palace, Nikolai glanced at Y/N, his heart swelling with love and pride. "You know," he said, his voice thoughtful, "I never really believed in fairy tales. But then I met you."

Y/N squeezed his hand, her eyes shining with affection. "And now?"

"Now," he said, leaning in to kiss her cheek, "I'm living one."

With their hearts intertwined and their love as strong as ever, Nikolai and Y/N stepped into the throne room, ready to face whatever challenges lay ahead. Together, they were unstoppable, the king and queen of a kingdom built not just on power, but on love.

[jjungkookislife]

"fuck around & find out" w/ joon

Find Out

pairing: bff!namjoon x plus size!reader

warnings: sexual thoughts, mention of drunk reader in the past, nudity, shared shower, implied smut, reader is shorter than Joon, honestly me just thirsting after him

You did your best to focus on your reps in Namjoon's home gym.

It had been your idea to work out when you arrived at his place. He agreed, showing you how to do your reps correctly. His chest pressed to your back as he fixed your form.

"Just like that, babe," he praised as he watched you. You were almost a foot shorter than him. He towered over you. He was so big and thick, it made your mind whirl with sinful thoughts you'd never speak aloud.

When Namjoon had stepped away to do his own thing, you found yourself looking at him, admiring his golden skin as it shone with a sheen of sweat. If that wasn't bad enough, every grunt went straight to your core. You were turning into putty as you eyed him, wishing you could lick the droplet of sweat that ran down his neck to his chest.

Fuck, you were down bad.

You had to focus on your sets, ignoring your desire for your best friend, not noting how he eyed you just as greedily.

Namjoon watched your ass when you squat. He had to set his weights down to keep from hurting himself. Every time you went down, his cock throbbed in his grey sweats.

He knew he should just tell you how he feels. You'd been friends for years, and something had bloomed between you. He knew it because every time you got tipsy, you hung all over him, holding his hand, snuggling into him, and admitting your crush on him.

Namjoon always hoped you'd say something sober so he could. But fear of losing you always hung over his head so he kept his mouth shut.

He loved everything about you, your smile, the shine in your eyes, the curve of your body that fit perfectly against his. That smart mouth that he wanted to kiss, that big brain of yours that rivaled his. Fuck, Namjoon needs to say something soon.

"I think that's enough for today," you groan as you set the weights back on the rack.

"Hm?" Joon hums, coming back to reality. Had he been staring this whole time?

"Let's call it a day?" you say with a quirked brow. "Hit the showers."

"Oh, yeah! You did good!" Namjoon recovers as he grabs his towel to dab his face and you nearly cream yourself as you admire his big biceps. God, you were gone. You'd let him put you in a headlock if it meant being near those big juicy arms that you wanted to sink your teeth into.

Namjoon tosses the towel into the hamper and leads you out of the gym toward the bathroom in his bedroom.

"You can go first," he states as he opens a drawer with your clothes because, of course, you had clothing at his place.

"Can I wear one of your shirts?" you ask as you undo your hair from its bun.

"Of course," Namjoon grins brightly as he opens his drawer and picks a shirt for you.

"Gonna pick my panties too?" you joke, and Namjoon's face flushes red.

"Shut up!" he laughs. "One of these days you're gonna fuck around and find out, baby."

"Oh?" you raise a brow as you smile at him. "That so?"

Namjoon nods as he crosses the distance between you. "Yes."

You're surprised when you're pressed against the wall with Namjoon looking down at you.

"Want to find out?" he breathes as he leans in closer and your body tingles as you nod.

Namjoon grips your chin with his fingers, his dark eyes are hooded. "Answer me, baby."

"Yes," you answer as confidently as possible before he kisses you. You don't have time to be self-conscious when he grabs your waist to pull you to him.

Namjoon kisses you like he's had a craving for you. You kiss him back just as eagerly as the two of you undress on your way to the shower.

Everything happens so quickly, that it takes a second to realize you're soaking wet under the showerhead.

"I've wanted this for so long," Namjoon admits as he takes you in. You're beautiful, and he tells you so, as you grip his arms.

"You have no idea how long I've wanted this Joon," you admit as you press your face into his broad chest.

"Me too, baby. I should have said something when you did," he smirks and you playfully smack his chest.

"Hey!"

"What? It was adorable! Drunk you is always talking about my big arms crushing you," He laughs before kissing your lips.

"Leave my fantasies out of this," you grumble as he kisses you again, deeper as he presses you to the shower wall.

"How about I take you to bed and you tell me more about your fantasies? Then tomorrow we can go on a date," he suggests.

"Why not tonight?" you ask, puzzled.

"Because when I'm done with you tonight, you won't be able to walk, baby," Namjoon states as he turns the shower off to lead you back into his bedroom.

You nearly cream yourself before you get there.

[zzznnnq]

Garden Of Lies

pairing: jang wonyoung x fem!reader

genre: angst, strangers to friends(?)

————————————————————————————

The sky was painted in shades of gray as it was heavily raining. The clouds were dancing around each other like lovers avoiding the truth. The droplets kept falling, forming puddles on the pavement. I was sitting in a shelter, in this familiar garden.

Looking over my shoulder, my eyes fell on a girl. She was sitting alone around the corner, wearing sadness in her eyes. Her soul was as dark as the afternoon sky. I couldn’t tell if she was crying because her tears would have blended in with the rain. I’d met her a few times before; heck, I even remembered her name.

“If he missed you, he’d find a way to be by your side. And if he loves you, then why are you always so sad?” I slowly asked her, trying to break the silence that hung between us. My voice was steady and slow, but it still startled her. She looked up at me, her eyes red and puffy. She made oceans with her tears, hoping to sail far away from everyone who hurt her.

“We’ve broken up… I learned that holding on to the wrong person would only prevent me from finding the right person,” she replied, along with a soft sigh. Her voice was kind of shaky, but it was still soothing for me to hear. “I think I laughed then cried. There was both good and bad, but not good enough to make me want to stay with him,” she added with a small laugh. She wore loneliness in her smile, hiding the sadness with her laughter. But isn't she too young for love?

“That’s good. Stop making the wrong person feel special. No matter how hard you try, they’ll never be right for you, Wonyoung,” I exclaimed, looking at her a little longer. She had a smile on her face as the wind slowly blew her hair away. I couldn’t help but return her lovely smile. She looked better this time. She will learn from the moon to shine through the darkness.

“You know, Y/n… I think everything is weird in the world right now. I mean, I know your name but I don’t really know you, yet I feel like I know you deeply. Isn’t it weird?” she asked me with a confused tone. I let out a chuckle, which made her mutter a small "why." Her eyes were searching for mine as I looked anywhere but at her. Her beautiful brown eyes were too mesmerizing for me to stare at. I found myself nervous whenever we stole glances, but I did understand what she meant. “Some souls just recognize each other, even though they’re strangers to one another. I also feel the same about you,” I stated cockily as she let out a laugh. She was such a lovely girl, an angel walking on earth. Why would she let some man destroy her? She deserves so much better.

“I like it when you are here somehow. Things seem better when we’re together. And thank you for not judging me. It’s kind of embarrassing to let you know how stupid I am for a man.”

“I won’t judge you or criticize you for what you’ve done. I only wish you saw what I see when I look at you. I only wish you wished for more than what you’ve settled for,” I softly stated, turning my head away from her. I was standing here the whole time; why can’t she see me through?

The rain looked like it would stop anytime soon, and my time with her would be cut short too. There was never a right time to say goodbye. Not when she looked at me with all that misery in her eyes. But I couldn’t keep up with my own feelings; it’s better if I walked away before it was too late. I stood up and looked at her as a soft sigh left my mouth.

“I hope your flowers will bloom through the rain, Wonyoung,”

[lilunar]

Dear, name

chapter three: warmed

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Trueform!Sukuna x reader warnings: slavery, cannibalism word count: 1.1k

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"Spend the night with me."

Upon his warmth on this bitter night, you appreciated the serenity he had given to you; lying on his mattress whilst being warmed up by him as slumber was cradling you to sleep. Whereas you felt his hand dragging you close to his body, embracing you from behind. His embrace was meshed out of emptiness, and you found out, deeply inside his heart was filled with loneliness just as you. Carelessly, you fondled him, wishing he would feel your affection as you never wanted him to feel alone again. Soon, you were falling asleep in his warmth of comfort without knowing that the man behind you had fallen asleep because of your touch.

Oh, our love is blooming?

Dawn arose as its yawn woke you up from your deep slumber for the light to shine in and remind you of your day. Until now, you were lying beside him however your face was facing him instead, his embrace was tighter than before, and nevertheless, his warmth was soothing like the winter had melted itself. The light shined through his face and emphasised his features as if he was the sun, his breath was calmed and collected like the breezes from the ocean, and his touch was unravelled from lone and meshed out again with affection. Faintly, you slipped out of his bed undesiring to wake his majesty up and parted off his chamber; unaware of his sympathetic stare and muffled laughter.

In the garden, you could not help but ponder over the fact that you spent the night with the man whom you always feared, the thought was consuming you and you didn't hear the approaching footsteps. "What's on your mind?" the owner of the abrupt voice that made you flinched was no one else than Uraume, they crouched down beside you and started assisting. "Nothing much really, just thinking about last night." An hour passed and the tasks were completed so at this time you and Uraume were relaxing in your designated spot; the dense air and the uttering wind were forming a tension until Uraume decided to end the silence.

"Can I ask you a question?" 

"Yes, what is it?" 

"What do you think about Master Sukuna?" 

"....He is the concept of misunderstanding. I know everyone must fear him and use his fear for their desire but sometimes they tend to forget that he is a human. I had thought about him like so in fear too, but after I spent a night with him, something told me that he was just misunderstood. After all, he is just a human like us." 

"You are very interesting y/n."

The hidden silhouette was revived by her light; her words embraced his soul and kissed his heart with the softest touch.

The dust of snow falling in the time of dusk is a sign for them to be in charge, the dwelling is lit with commotions as a routine for his presence will be present soon. "Y/n, can you help me prepare Master Sukuna's meal?" "Yes of course," both of you headed to the kitchen and began preparing his meal, you were chopping up some herbs and dicing vegetables to mix with the broth that Uraume was stirring. "Here you go," you headed the herbs and vegetables to Uraume and watched them stir everything together. "Are you scared of blood?" "No, why?" Without any reply, Uraume walked to one of the storage, took out an organ and a human heart and placed them on the table. "Where did this come from?" those words of shock were blurted out by you who was in dismay. "This is one of his offerings." Uraume walked back to get another organ but this time, it was flesh. "And this one is one of the maids." You felt unease as you watched Uraume cook his meal but for a time it was done."You can go and rest now. Thank you for the help." Uraume slightly bowed down to you and left the kitchen to serve his meal.

You, whose exhaustion was indeed swelling, left the kitchen after Uraume and headed back to your room. 'I should take a shower,' you thought before heading out to draw some water from the well, surely, if there was a washroom for servants like you then there would be no need for you to go out on this cold winter night and shower in this freezing atmosphere. You hurriedly draw some water and find a riskless place where no one can see you. The wintry wind blew and brought goosebumps throughout your skin, while the icy water was washing away all the worthless pieces of yours.

Four eyes with deep intentions were lusting from afar.

The feeling of the light clothes on your skin was always one of your appreciation. After cleansing your body and dressing up, you headed back to your room whilst being drained of energy. 'It's so cold...' you thought as you curled up into a ball for this tormented winter night has yet to come through. You were soon falling asleep in this tormented night to forget all the pain you had gone through, regardless, words were waking you up. "Y/n, are you asleep? Y/n." the voice woke you up from your slumber. In annoyance, you got up and opened the door and saw Uraume, "Oh.... hi. What do you need?" the annoyance seemed to disappear in an instant. "Master Sukuna called for you." 

"Go and rest now Uraume." The king said, seated on his throne as he looked at them from afar; they had taken their leave and from now on it is only you and him. You slowly felt his presence approaching you, yet all you could do was to keep your head low. Before you knew it, his hefty arms were wrapped around your body and carried you toward his bed, he tossed you onto it and laid down next to you. "Use this," he said as his lower left hand reached for a blanket and then threw it to you. You hold onto the blanket and look back at him who has no cover but you decide not to interfere with him. 'Oh, how I miss his hug.' you thought as your thoughts kept you up.

"Couldn't sleep?" he asked with his fainted voice and you nodded in return. His hefty arm pulled you in and pressed your head onto his chest while his other arms embraced you tightly as if he was afraid of losing you to the night's cold. "Sleep," he ordered stroking your hair in tenderness whilst lulling you to sleep. 

What could be warmer than his embrace?

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Please do not repost, rewrite, or do anything without my permission, reblogs are perfectly fine. Feel free to correct my mistake, English is not my first language. author's note: sorry for not updating *I do not own the characters, Gege Akutami does. Only y/n is written by me.*

[violent-grove]

Returning Home (Kaeya x Reader)

As Kaeya walked away from Dainsleif and the Traveler, his smile slowly fell. That was it; the beginning of the end for your relationship. Soon you would know of his connection with Khaenri'ah and his relation to the man who started it all. He began his way to the spice merchant he was to meet.

The discussion of the spices went by in a blur, and before Kaeya knew it, he was on a boat back to Liyue. The trip gave him time to plan. He considered himself a selfless being, but just for one more night, he wished to bask in your presence. The plan was simple, spend one more night sleeping next to you, holding you, and then vanish before the fireworks could begin. Kaeya didn't believe he could handle another Diluc-like incident.

The gates to Mondstadt looked the same, but they didn't feel the same. Kaeya supposed this was just his mind getting ready for the inevitable change that was soon to befall him. Looking up at your shared home, he softly sighed and tried to put on the best mask he could muster.

Kaeya sauntered into your shared home as quietly as possible. He arrived home late after his trip to Sumeru and didn't want to wake you. It also didn't help that he had a lot to think about. Knowing you and the Traveler, you would be in the know shortly.

Getting out of his head, Kaeya slipped off his boots and padded to your shared bed. At least he would have this glorious night. A night where you were ignorant of his truth, and the look of disgust was still absent from your face. The same scornful look Diluc wore when the truth was revealed to him.

Climbing in and pulling up your shared covers, he paused when he heard a groan from you. His eye met yours, and a soft smile bloomed across your face. "You're finally back," you sleepily said as your arms opened wide. "Come here, big guy." Normally, Kaeya would tiredly collapse into your embrace, but something made him hesitate. Even while donning his best everything-is-ok act, he was still vulnerable to your calming presence. Sensing his hesitation, you blinked to wake yourself up a tad more and asked, "What's wrong?"

Kaeya kept a straight face, as he always tried to do around you, but you knew. His face may have been the picture of indifference, but his twitchy hands gave him away. As soon as your pointed gaze fell on them, he hid his hands behind his back. "Nothing is wrong, sweetling," Kaeya brushed off your concern with a laugh. He was about to start forming his well-crafted lie when he saw the hurt look on your face.

You shook your head to get rid of the grogginess and show your disapproval of his behavior. Sitting on the edge of your shared bed, you coax Kaeya to sit next to you, "Please, Kaeya, I thought we were past this." Grabbing his hand tenderly, you start to remove his glove and stroke his naked hand with care. Thinking back to all of the hurt caused by his brother, you hold his hand a little tighter.

What was wrong with Diluc for abandoning his own family like that? You never found out what happened during their argument, but you couldn't think of a single justifiable reason for Diluc to do such a thing. Noticing the tension in Kaeya's shoulders starting to evaporate, you slowly ask, "Does this have something to do with Diluc?" Kaeya's eyes flitted away from you, in turn grabbing your ire for his brother, "It's got to be him. Did he say something about it again? Just because you had one argument doesn't give him the right to speak so poorly of you or mistreat you-" Ordinarily, you would have continued rambling, but the shine of Kaeya's tear streaks stopped you right in your tracks.

Kaeya clenched the hand you weren't holding. Why did you have to make losing you so hard? He should have tried harder to keep his cool; he's an expert at that when you aren't around. You always make everything feel too much. The hand holding, the care you give so freely to a sinner like him. He wanted one more night, but now that he's allowed the floodgates to open, he knows that is out of the picture.

You move to try and hug him close to your chest, but for the first time, he resists. Kaeya decided he had to go out on his own terms; he couldn't just leave you in the dark and leave in the morning. Taking a deep breath, Kaeya shakily whispers, "I have to tell you about what happened with Diluc."

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

The rain was falling over Mondstadt in sheets, and the world was overcome in curtains of water. Crepus' death should have been a hard hit for both of them, but the grief Kaeya should have been feeling was overshadowed by the immense relief he felt. Finally, he could be free from this internal anguish.

As he gazed upon his mourning brother and his father's dead body, a smirk was present on his face, "The world is truly... fascinating." When the other knights came and whisked Crepus' body away for safekeeping, Kaeya swiftly slinked away as well. Putting his hands behind his head, Kaeya whistled a happy tune. Finally, all his worries were deceased. There was no longer a fine balance he had to maintain between his homeland and Mondstadt. He would know what side to pick... Or would he?

It's not as though Crepus was his only tie to this place; he loved Diluc as well. And where was Diluc now? At home, alone, and grieving. What kind of brother was he? Here Kaeya was, reveling in the death of their father while his brother was beside himself. What had Khaenri'ah turned him into?

There was no denying it now. Before, when Kaeya was doing his knightly training and helping the people of Mondstadt, he could put the thought in the back of his mind, but in the wake of this tragedy, the idea blared impossibly loud in his brain. He is the villain. He is a spy sent from an opposing nation, acting as its people's friend when he will always be the outsider. Even his looks were different from the rest; there's only one blue-haired tan person in Mondstadt, and that's him.

Kaeya's thoughts kept spiraling, but some small piece of him still had hope. The small piece that Mondstadt had instilled in him as he was growing up. As a small child, his birth father told him of the fruitlessness of the Khaenrian struggle, but growing up with Crepus and Diluc showed him that ambition and optimism were not exclusive to those who hailed from one of the seven nations. Kaeya felt that love and joy when he was with the two of them, his family.

This hope is what led him to the Dawn Winery's front door. He noticed none of the staff was there and became thankful. What he was about to say was best kept between the family. Kaeya stood at the door for longer than necessary, working up the courage to knock. Taking a deep breath, he knocked, and he hoped.

Diluc saw the drenched and sad state of his brother before yanking open the door, "Kaeya! Thank Barbatos, you're alright." Diluc attempted to pull Kaeya inside, but he resisted, "Come on, brother. You're going to catch your death in-"

Before Diluc could continue his worrying, Kaeya took a step back and gravely said, "Diluc, I have to tell you something."

Hesitantly, Diluc quietly asked, "What is it?" You could scarcely hear his voice over the raindrops.

Kaeya looked Diluc in the eye but soon lost his resolve and looked away. Gulping on nothing, he told the truth, "I'm from Khaenri'ah, and I was sent here to serve Khaenrian interests." A long silence befell the two of them.

Eventually, Diluc was the one to break it, "Come now, brother, this is no time for jokes." He took a step forward so the rain was soaking his clothes just as it was soaking Kaeya's, "Let's stop this jest, go inside, get warmed up, and maybe- perhaps-" A choked sob cut Diluc off.

Kaeya hadn't even noticed Diluc had started to cry; the rain kept their faces drenched in water. But Diluc wasn't the only one crying; Kaeya was as well. Diluc questioned, "Are you absolutely sure? What if there was a mistake? What if-" It had only taken Diluc a mere five seconds to discern that Kaeya was telling the truth, and as soon as that realization dawned upon him, his sadness turned into anger. Kaeya's star-like pupils had given his heritage away.

Diluc's greatsword materialized, and his hand clenched around it with such force that his gloves were straining against the force of his action. Taking a hot angry intake of air, Diluc clearly stated, "Then you are a threat to Mondstadt, and you must be taken care of." With a stance that oozed confidence, Diluc raised his sword and almost struck Kaeya. If not for Kaeya's impressive dodging skills, he would have been cut clean in two.

Eyes and mouth wide open, Kaeya turned to Diluc, "Can't we discuss this? What about being brothers?" Again, Diluc had moved to attack Kaeya.

Slightly out of breath, Diluc declared, "You forfeited that right the moment you were born, Khaenrian." Those words cut Kaeya straight to the bone. He couldn't have been more wrong. How was he so foolish as to think there was any place in this world for a Khaenrian like him.

Soon after Kaeya came to his depressing conclusion, his sword materialized in his hands, and the brothers were knocking back blow after blow. Their Favonious training was promulgating off of them in waves. Kaeya was losing ground fast. The battle was unfair from the start; the only thing keeping Kaeya's clothes unburned was the never-ending rain.

As the fighting continued, Kaeya was gradually forced back off of the winery's courtyard and onto the muddy ground. Just as Diluc was readying his final blow, Kaeya felt a burst of elemental energy. He clung to this power with all of his might to save his life. Cryo met Pyro, and a swirling wind erupted between the two of them, blowing each back. Using this distraction, Kaeya slipped away, never to grace Dawn Winery as an inhabitant but only as an occasional visitor.

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By the end of Kaeya's story, you were in tears. The story was a lot to take in. Distancing yourself from Kaeya, you stare down at your hands in contemplation, "So, that's what happened..." Glancing at his eyepatch, you have one question in mind, "Are you- I mean- What I'm trying to say is-" Sighing, you work up the courage to get it out, "Are you like a Hilichurl?"

Kaeya snorted and shook his head, "No, I'm not like a hilichurl; I can assure you that I am entirely human." Sensing the lightening mood, you softly caress his right cheek.

Almost, but not quite, touching his eyepatch, you ask, "Then what's this for?" Kaeya's head jerked away at the question, and his smile fell. Your hand fell back down to your lap, and you looked away as well. That was definitely too far, "I'm sorry, Kaeya."

Your words made his heart clench. He just revealed that he's been lying to you since you met, and here you are apologizing. Why weren't you angry? Why were you fine with this? Why weren't you like Diluc? If you were like Diluc, he could deal with this. He could right off your love, but you weren't like Diluc, were you? But you should be.

"What is your problem? Why aren't you brandishing your weapons right now? Your love for me is clearly gone. Oho, wait, is this just an act?" Kaeya's voice quickly changed from angry to merry, but he wasn't done concocting his story, "Just a way to harm the sinner as much as possible. You really had me going there for a bit, believing you still loved me-" You had to cut him off; this couldn't continue, "But I still do love you!"  

Kaeya squinted at you, "I can easily see through lies, darling. Weren't you paying attention to my story? I'm the king of liars."

Inching closer to him, you urged, "But you don't have to be. You just told me the truth." Reiterating your point, you quietly say, "It doesn't have to be the way it was before."

As you scooted nearer to Kaeya, he stood from the bed and went to stand at the opposite end of your bedroom. Smirking, Kaeya continued on his tirade, "Oh yes, it does, because no one can ever love a Khaenrian, a sinner, a liar, an enemy of the state-"

He was about to continue listing all of the things he hated about himself, but you sprung from the bed to hug him with all of your might. Your words were muffled because your face was to his chest, "I don't care, Kaeya, I love you, and your words won't stop me." As soon as you had hugged him, Kaeya stiffened. All was silent for a while, but the silence was broken by Kaeya's sniffles.

Starting to rub his back soothingly, you say, "There there. It's ok. Let it all out," in repetition until he's able to calm down.

After a few minutes or so, Kaeya asks, "Are you sure; are you really sure?"

Still, within the hug, you nod against him, "I wish you had told me sooner, but the truth will never stop me from loving you." You pulled back from the hug a tad bit to look him in the eye, "I think I'm going to need some time to trust you again, but if you're willing to help me through that, I'm ready to help you. So, please don't believe you're unworthy of love just because of your heritage." At your words, Kaeya pulled you into the hug tighter. All was not well, but if you two worked on your relationship, it soon would be. A/N: I hope you enjoyed if you got to this part!