#im living (dying) for this trope

[moretheta]

im so tireddddd of the "halkenburg is just as bad as benjamin now" hot take. listen a halkenburg villain arc does sound fascinating i won't lie but we are so very far from that point. yes, halkenburg has abandoned pacifism. but also have you ever considered that pacifism could have... flaws.... when you are an (unwilling) part of a fatally unequal system that children are steadily losing their lives to.

sorry you can't handle a radical but i'm still with halkenburg on this. you'll never get me to side with mr. military industrial complex

[harumasafart]

Huge fan of characters that are narcissistic, rude, jaded geniuses who have reached the point in life where theyre just doing whatever interests them at the moment, never worried about fulfilling the rest of their time in life because they’ve immortalized themself and are a huge name among the people of their region

Also love when they have a younger character that sticks like a thorn in their side, but theyre so refreshing and interesting that they cant help but want to dissect and pick their brains so they let them stick around

[rucow]

caved in, im drawing princess voryn again :') <3

[pencil-n-pen]

TONGUES AND TEETH

₊˚ʚ 🌲₊˚✧ ﾟ. °🍂 ೃ࿔*

jackson! joel miller x fem! loner! reader

masterlist | ko-fi

summary: Joel refuses to acknowledge the part of him that aches to be a protector. That is, until you come crashing into his life.

cw: canon-typical violence, reader had a rough go of things before Joel, nightmares, medical inaccuracies (oh the horror!) uhhh reader has a broken nose and it gets set, unspecified age gap, daddy issues but we all saw that coming and it’s vague, as an ellie lover and defender until the day i die, it pains me to say no ellie-au IM SORRY I COULDN’T MAKE IT WORK bella ramsey as ellie they could never make me hate you

tags/tropes: hurt/comfort as always, age gap, nightmare comfort, honestly just two messed up people loving each other

a/n: proof that i will find a way to write an eldest daughter fic for any fandom/universe

not officially writing for him !! just had this idea

another long(ish) fic. if you're here from my masterlist, now would be a good time to go pee, get some water, and maybe a snack or two :) same things for those of you scrolling. i see u

title taken from tongues and teeth by the crane wives (GO LISTEN TO THE CRANE WIVES !!)

✧˚ ༘ ⋆｡˚🦴⋆｡°✩

Jackson living isn’t all Joel thought it would be cracked up to be.

Don’t get him wrong- objectively, it’s great. Running water, electricity, a clinic- three hallmarks Joel was sure he’d never see again. Not since the outbreak.

So by all means, he should be content. He goes out for hunting parties and patrols. Has his own house. Has a permanent place to keep his boots and his knives and guns and a bookshelf to make his way through. He has a bed. He has his brother.

But he’s restless.

Joel spent a long time walking. Searching. Surviving. You don’t quite slip back into easy civilian life just like that, no matter how perfect the conditions are.

At first, he solves this problem but going on more hunting parties, more patrols. He stays up late doing guard rotations and helps out his brother with projects when he can.

It doesn’t solve the itch, though. That sharp little thrumming, just beneath his skin: the need to protect. To have a job. To have something or someone to look after.

He denies this part of himself as much as he can, because he’s not that man anymore. Not after Sarah. He’s not. You don’t stay somebody dying to help and protect when you kill people. Because they’re still people, under the fungus. Under the parasite. Their brain’s still work. They still feel pain and anguish and fear.

He’s heard them cry before. Hunched over a corpse, body acting with somebody else at the reins, faces covered in blood and gore crying “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry.”

So Joel isn’t a protective guy anymore. Had to take out those parts. Replace them with solitary and meanness and a distinct lack of sympathy.

It’s turned him into an angry thing. Like a gaurd dog; snarling, circling an empty pedestal it refuses to acknowledge is there.

He knows Tommy see’s it. Try’s to involve him in things whenever he can, invites him over to dinner. Hangs out at his house. Makes sure Joel isn’t alone-alone.

So Joel really, really should’ve seen it coming when he and the scouting party find you in the woods.

You’re just as surprised to see them as they are to see you. They thought they were tracking a deer— although some of the tracks and patterns of disturbance in the underbrush didn’t add up.

They’d entered a clearing, guns poised, just to see you, handgun leveled at them, perched in a tree. Way higher up than Joel would’ve dared.

“Stay the fuck away from me.” You’d hissed, voice carrying on the wind and rattling just like the leaves on the tree you’re in. How you managed to scale a tree that high in a busted pair of Doc Martens and lugging a backpack clearly full of supplies is beyond him.

But he doesn’t need medical credentials to know you’ve clearly had a rough go of things.

You’re young. Not young-young, but young. Dressed in clothes clearly pilfered, you’re wearing a thick brown jacket that probably would’ve belonged to a construction worker or something like that. It’s a few sizes too big, and the cuffs are frayed and there’s a hastily sewn patch on the elbow he can see. Your face and hair is littered with tree and other plant debris- though if this is a new addition from your tree climbing escapade, he’s not sure. Your nose has dried blood crusted under it, your lip is split, and there’s a cut above your eyebrow. Your knuckles and hands are equally torn and split, old and new scars and scrapes littering your skin.

In short: you look rough. And feral, in that way that cats that live outside a little too long and a little too far away from people end up looking.

“I said stay back!”

He remembers, abruptly, that you’re probably scared out of your mind and the rest of the scouting team is still pointing their weapons at you.

He makes the motion for them to lower their weapons, and he lowers his own, raising both hands in the universal “we come in peace” gesture.

You don’t lower yours, but your grip on it is looser.

“We’re from the Jackson settlement,” He shouts, hoping you don’t hear the gruff anger in his voice that Tommy always complains he needs to work on. “There’s running water and electricity.”

“I’ve heard that one before,” Your hands have begun to shake on the gun, ever so slightly. “So what’s your guys prerogative, huh? Cannablism? Religion? You planning on burning me at the stake? Or did you have something else in mind? I am a woman.”

Joel takes a step forward but stops when a bullet hits the ground right where his foot was about to be.

“If you take one more step you’re gonna find out exactly why I’ve survived alone this long.”

“Look,” He says, dropping his hands to his hips. “You can shoot us, and one of us will shoot you, and it’ll all be fine and dandy—“

There’s a chorus of whispers behind him.

“Or you can stay in that tree and not shoot us, and we won’t shoot you, and that’ll also be fine and dandy.”

He turns, jamming a finger in the direction of the settlement. “Jackson’s that way. Go or don’t go. I don’t really give a shit, but you look like you could use a bandaid.”

He jerks his head, and the rest of the party follows his lead, leaving the clearing —and you— behind.

—

A few hours after he returns, somewhere in the late evening when twilight is starting to set in and the crickets are chirping, Tommy knocks on his door.

“There’s a girl here for you.”

He raises an eyebrow. “Someone asked for me?”

“Well, not so much as for you. Her words exactly were “that gruff, mean looking asshole,” but I got the picture.”

He sighs, deep in his bones. A small part of him —the part that’s still connected to that dog, still circling— had hoped you would show up. However, it’s hopelessly overshadowed by the sheer exasperation of it all.

He’s silent save for non-committal grunts and hmm’s the way over to the front gates where the evening rotation’s guards have you standing between them.

You’re slightly worse for wear since the last time he saw you in that tree. Your jacket as a new rip in it, and your nose is sluggishly bleeding again. Up close, he notices it’s a bit crooked.

Gonna hurt like a bitch to set, He thinks absentmindedly.

He slows as he approaches you, hands in his pockets and shoulders back.

“See?” He huffs, gesturing with one hand behind him. “Not cannibals. Or whatever else you’re worried about.”

Your face is hard set as you look around. “That remains to be seen.”

“Hello!”

Joel looks back to see a pregnant Maria waddling over, a concerned Tommy at her side.

“I told you I’d handle it—“

“And I told you I’m fine. Now,” She props her hands on her hips. “Who’s this young lady now?”

You (hesitantly) stick out a hand to shake and introduce yourself.

She shakes your hand with a smile. Leave it to Maria to be able to read people with such ease. “I’m Maria Miller. I’m one of the settlement councilors. The golden retriever fussing next to me is my husband, Tommy, and the angry looking bear next to him is his brother, Joel. I understand a scouting party found you?”

You nod, eyes flicking this way and that, cataloguing the area.

“I’ve been on my own for… awhile. I don’t have any supplies to offer, but I’m smart and strong. I’m willing to work in exchange for a place to stay.”

Maria hums, assessing. “I’m sure we can work something out. You’ll need to come with me to speak to the rest of the council, for our safety and yours.”

You tighten your grip on your backpack but follow Maria and Tommy, only sparing one backward glance at Joel.

He spends the rest of the evening trying to forget the look in your eyes.

—

He fails spectacularly.

This doesn’t mean, however, that he’s anywhere near pleased when his nightly reading-as-a-poor-attempt-at-normalcy routine is interrupted by a knock on the door. One that sounds suspiciously like Tommy’s type of knock.

Only he hears two voices as he walks up to the door, and the other one isn’t Maria.

Joel opens the door with a glare already fixed on his face.

“There have to be other places.”

Tommy rolls his eyes. “It’s only temporary. The council agreed to let her stay so long as she’s watched by a trusted Jackson member, and well. You vouched for her.”

“And when exactly did I do that?”

“In the woods, when you met. You told her where you were from and how to get there. Honestly, Joel, you’re getting off light here. Some of the council members were not happy you told a random loner —no offense— where to find us. Kind of defeats the whole point.”

You huff a quiet “None taken.”

He can’t help the way his body tenses. “So this is a punishment?”

“Yes and no.”

“I don’t—“

“Look,” you interject, clearly fed up with the conversation. “It’s not the end of the world. I’m not going to murder you in your sleep and I don’t leave dirty clothes lying around. It’s only for three weeks. Get over it.”

Another sigh threatens to release itself, but he stamps it down, figuring he’s hit his sigh quota for the day.

“Fine. But take her down to medical first. I don’t want her blood all over my house.”

Tommy shrugs. “No-can-do. Maria needs me back at the house. You know where medical is. I’m sure you’ll manage.”

And with that, Tommy leaves, abandoning Joel and you at the doorstep.

Joel scrubs a hand down his face. “Wait there. I’ll grab a jacket.”

The walk to the clinic is awkward and silent, and just when Joel thinks it can’t get any worse, one of the staff tells him that since he’s your assigned supervisor/watcher/whatever, he has to accompany you. To everything.

To your credit, you don’t look very happy about the arrangement either.

Still, you bear through all the exams, a grimace fixed firmly on your face. Apparently (and not surprisingly) you’re malnourished, dehydrated, running a small fever, deficient in several vitamins, have two cracked ribs (most likely, no x-ray machine) and some run of the mill scraps and bruises.

You’re cagey enough on the details of the cracked ribs and nose that the doctor eventually moves on to the fixing you stage of things.

It takes awhile. There are a lot of injuries to cover.

When it comes to resetting your nose, the second the woman pulls out a needle and syringe, you go rigid.

“No.”

The doctor blinks. “This is just lidocaine, it’ll numb the area so—“

“No.”

“You wanna feel all that?” Joel asks, the first time he’s spoken during your entire exam, “It ain’t gonna feel great. Crooked nose like that won’t set with one go.”

“No needles. No numbing.”

Joel rolls his eyes. “What, you got a pain thing or something?”

Your hands go white-knuckled on the exam table. “Fuck. Off.”

You’re shaking, he notes.

Ah, He says to himself. Not a pain thing.

Fear.

The doctor shrugs. “Not like I won’t take the chance to save what we have. You’ll want something to bite down on. Or squeeze.”

You wrap your fingers around your own hand, a pathetic attempt at self-soothing.

He decides annoyance is the emotion he feels at your small movement. Nothing else.

He rolls his eyes as he grabs your hand, maneuvering it in place of your own.

“Good luck breaking it.”

You don’t respond. He wasn’t really expecting you to.

He knows without looking the exact moment the doctor starts resetting things because your grip on his hand quickly turns from barely there to crushing. You make no sound.

The doctor, to her credit, works fairly quickly, though by the time she’s finished a single tear has carved a path through the blood and grime on your face.

He thinks about how someone learns to cry without sound.

The doctor moves on quickly, cleaning and bandaging the wounds that need it and telling you detailed instructions for how to take care of your nose and cracked ribs and what things you should be eating to avoid staying vitamin deficient. It’s all a lot of words Joel is glad he doesn’t have to memorize.

They stick in his head anyway.

You don’t let go of his hand. You’re no longer squeezing the life out of it, but you’re not holding its gently either. When you do finally let go (after the doctor’s left and you can leave) you practically tear your hand away, as if burned. Like you’d left your hand on a stove as it was heating up only you just now noticed it was hot.

He doesn't say anything about it. He figures you're liable to literally bite his head off, or some other violent action close to that.

Besides. This is all awkward enough.

The walk back to the house is just as silent and strained as the walk to the clinic. Only now your breath is just a little more labored. Steps a little shakier. Your hand's twitch at your sides like they're reaching for something, and you don't quite manage to hide the way you look around every now and then, a restless, nervous action.

He knows what you're doing. He was you, back when he first got to Jackson. Granted, he wasn't as twitchy as you are. He kept his distance, stayed mean and scary (as possible.)

He holds the door open for you when you arrive back to the house, because his mom raised him to be a gentleman no matter the circumstances.

You toss him a look of confusion and annoyance but step into the house, looking around the modest living room with something almost like wonder.

He toes off his shoes, sets them by the door, and takes off his jacket, hanging it on the hook. "Shower before you touch anything. You're filthy. And don't think I'm giving up my bed."

"I wouldn't have taken it even if you had," You sneer. "Where's the--"

"Down the hall on the left. You got clean clothes?"

"...I have less dirty ones."

He pinches the bridge of his nose. "Wait here."

He grumbles all the way upstairs, all the way through picking out clothes that'll fit you well enough until you either wash what you have or find something else.

He silently glowers as he comes down the stairs, thrusting the clothes out to you and turning on his heel when you take them.

"I'm going to bed. Don't wake me up."

When he lies in bed that night, he can't even pretend he's not thinking about you. In his defense, it's less about you and more about the new, strange, stand-offish person he's just supposed to live with for the foreseeable future. All because he had the bad luck of feeling bad for the battered, flighty, loner girl sitting in a tree.

He stares at his ceiling, internal clock (yes, he's old, he has an internal clock. Sue him) letting him know it is decidedly an hour he should be asleep. He refuses to go downstairs, on principle alone. He could get up and go find one of his books, but he knows that if you're anything like him, coming off of however long you spent alone, you're a light sleeper. You're probably awake now, listening to him toss and turn and being unnerved by the unusual silence of Jackson and the particular brand of night-noise it produces. That's what the first two weeks of Joel's life in Jackson consisted of, before he moved in here.

Maria had decided that Joel would stay with the two of them until he integrated in Jackson society. Perks of your brother marrying a council member, he guesses.

So he's not going downstairs. Not going to walk down there just to see a person, an entire person in his house looking like, looking like--

Fuck.

He throws his blankets off and angrily (but not loudly) marches downstairs to get himself a glass of water and the book he knows he left on the table by the couch when he was so rudely interrupted by you. This is his house, dammit, he refuses to be put out by a random girl.

Woman, his brain corrects.

The living room is completely dark when he makes his way down the stairs and he truly, honestly wishes he was surprised when there's a whoosh of air to his right and a knife embeds itself in the wall about a half inch away from the side of his face.

The living room is still and silent.

"I thought they took your weapons when you got here."

"I lied about what I had."

He scrubs a hand down his face, yanks the knife out of the wall, and tosses it back. If you can throw it, you can dodge it.

He doesn't hear any screams, yelps, or grunts of pain, so he assumes you caught it fine. Or at least dodged it.

He makes his way over to the kitchen, grabs the teapot, and takes down two mugs.

"You know they can kick you out for harboring weapons during your probationary stay."

He hears a rustle of blankets behind him. The sound of you stashing your knife, no doubt.

"Are you going to tell them?"

He snorts, filling up the teapot. "No. There's been a knife in my boot since the day I got here."

He hears more rustling, and decides against turning around. He's not quite sure what you've been doing down here all night since it's clear that you weren't sleeping.

He doesn't hear any footsteps, but when does turn around to set the mugs on the table, you're sitting at it, knees pulled up and head resting atop them, your cheek smushed. Now that his eye's have adjusted to the darkness of the living room, he can almost make out your features. They're easier to discern, now that you're not covered in blood and grime. You look... softer. Haloed in the glow of moonlight shining through the gaps in the curtains.

Your face isn't the only thing glowing. The tell-tale glint of a knife --a different, smaller knife than the one you'd thrown at him-- shines from it's spot, resting oh-so innocently on the table.

Joel just huffs.

"No weapons on the table."

He blinks, and it's gone.

He doesn't ask why you're still awake or what you've been doing instead of sleeping. You don't ask why he's down in the kitchen at all.

"What are you making?"

"Tea."

He gently places a teabag in each mug. He isn't really sure why he's doing this for you. You've done nothing but hiss and spit since he's met you.

But tonight, right now, blanketed in the not-quite calm of the night and the apparent unease you both drown in--

It's tolerable. You're tolerable.

So he takes the kettle off the stove and pours the water and places the steaming mug on the table in front of you.

To which you ignore, and snatch the mug out of his hands instead.

"Did you think I put that one," He points to the mug in front of you, "There for giggles?"

You cradle the mug in your hands, seemingly entranced with the warmth and steam. "You might've poisoned mine."

"Maybe I poisoned both."

You take a sip, then grimace when the too-hot liquid hits your tongue.

"You don't look like the kind of person to have built an immunity to poison."

"You also watched me make both beverages."

"So? It's dark. You could've slipped something in. Or maybe it was already in the teabags."

"What use would I even have for you dead?"

You shrug. "I don't know. You tell me."

“You’re a deeply mistrusting person.”

“And you’re not?”

Touché.

Joel remains in the kitchen, leaned against a cabinet sipping your tea, while you stay hunched at the table, sipping yours.

If he removes the irritability and the uncomfortable-ness of everything that involves you living with him, the moment is almost… companionable. Pleasant, even.

It… soothes that nervous part of him. Not the sad nervous. The angry nervous. That built up crack of anger.

There’s another person in his home that is neither attempting to perceive his problems nor actively attempting to kill him. Your belief that he might poison you aside, you still accepted the tea.

He firmly believes that Tommy isn’t right about the loneliness thing though. His brother being right is just a world Joel can’t live in.

Besides. It’s too early to tell anything anyway.

—

Unfortunately, the following few days do not go… terribly.

That isn’t to say they go well, though. Since he’s looking after you (read: making sure you’re not an axe-murderer or something) he’s not allowed to go out on scouting or hunting trips. Or solo guard rotations he’s come to covet.

It’s boring, and having you around is strange.

It’s interesting, when he gets bored enough, because if he focuses hard enough he can guess what events happened to you based on your reactions to certain things. He’s pretty sure you were drugged at some point based on your reaction to the doctor with the lidocaine. You’re general skittish and flighty nature can be easily attributed to the conditions in which everyone in the world is living in, but your particular brand of distrust and aggression says that humans, not the infected, have been the ones to hurt you the most. Your general unease in open areas or areas with not easily accessible exits leads him to believe that there have been several extremely close calls in several points of your survival.

He knows you’ve been shot before, but that one was an accident. He’d come downstairs, rubbing bleary sleep from his eyes and accidentally stumbled across you changing. Well, finishing changing. He’d quickly closed his eyes and turned around, and thankfully you hadn’t startled, but he had caught a glimpse of the stretch of skin not covered by the long sleeve undershirt you favored. On the left side, just above your hip and a few inches towards your bellybutton, there’s a jagged, raised, circular scar. Still pink.

He knows you have a very slight, very subtle limp. He’s not sure what causes it, but he knows you have one. It tends to act up when you do a lot of strenuous exercise for an extended period of time. Some days you wake up and it’s worse. On those days, you’re a little more mean, and a little more skittish.

He’s yet to see you actually, legitimately sleep.

He’s starting to think you haven’t, since arriving.

Which is insane, because it’s been four days.

The bags under your eyes are horrific, even to him. You’ve gotten clumsier and clumsier, your attention span and memory are terrible, and he thinks you might’ve started hallucinating, if the times he’s seen you staring off into space with concerned, fearful, or twisted expressions on your face and mumbled rambles he can’t make out are anything to go by.

On day five, when Joel comes downstairs in the morning and the knife you throw at him bounces harmlessly off the wall and clatters to the ground and you just stare at it, eyes foggy and unseeing, he decides to talk to Maria.

“I don’t really care,” He says, because he has a reputation to uphold dammit, “But I’m not sure how much longer she’s gonna last, and what she’s gonna do when she wakes up.”

“Mmm,” Maria hums, hands clasped on the table and staring at Joel with her best ‘I don’t believe you don’t care’ look. She’s really perfected it, “Well the truth is, she can’t go forever. It’s fear keeping her up now. Happens a lot with the loners that come in. Especially the women. She’s afraid that no one’s there to watch her back and terrified she won’t be strong enough to fend off any attackers.”

Maria looks at her hands. “The fear is exacerbated by the fact that the council took most of her weapons.”

“You knew—“

“She was lying? Of course I did. So did several of the other members, I’m sure. But she’s not a threat. She’s scared.”

He thumbs the thin scar on his cheek from the knife came just a little too close to hitting the mark when he sneezed in the kitchen. “She’s got a funny way of being scared.”

“Fight or flight, Joel. She knows flight isn’t an option.”

“Why are you lobbying so hard in her defense?”

“I’m not. I’m explaining her actions. Also,” She gives a knowing smile, “You’ve started to care. Otherwise you wouldn’t be coming to me about this.”

“Yeah, yeah,” He grouses. “So what am I supposed to do? Just wait for her to pass out?”

“You could. It’ll happen eventually. She very clearly doesn’t have that many hours left in her. That’s probably freaking her out more. Or, you could subtly show her that she can sleep around you. She needs to know that she’s safe from whatever it is she’s running from.”

Joel keeps his eyes locked on the kitchen table, tracing the grain in the wood with an absent-minded finger.

“I know you pushed for her to stay with me.”

“The council wanted a punishment that fit the crime.”

“Look, I appreciate the thought—“

Maria’s expression flattens. “Joel. Do not sit at my table and lie about how you don’t need anyone and you’re fine on your own. You need this.“

“I don’t need this,” He scoffs, “She’s practically half-feral. No one needs that.”

Maria stands, shrugging. “Then I guess you’ll have to file for a name change, No-One Miller. Until then, make sure she’s not alone when she wakes up.”

—

He did leave you alone for the duration of his conversation with Maria, because fuck if he was bringing you to that, and he figured you both could use some time away from each other. He knows he can.

He’s not very surprised to hear the familar whoosh of a small, sharp object sailing through the air that tends to accompany his arrival into rooms you’re occupying (he’s pretty sure it stopped being a fear response after the first two times and now you’re just messing with him) but he is suprised to see that this time, the knife doesn’t even make it head height. Or to the wall.

It clatters uselessly to the ground near his feet. He stares at the metal between his boots and then up at you—

“Why are you sitting on the kitchen counter?”

“I don’t remember.”

He leaves the knife on the ground and makes his way over to you, watching with mock disinterest at the several-seconds-delayed flinch you make when he stands in front of you.

You look up at him, eyes glassy and unfocused and you just look so, so tired.

There’s a curl of protectiveness in his chest that keeps trying to spread, keeps trying to grow. Here, in the kitchen, your legs dangling over the edge of the counter, bathed in the glow of the mid-day sun, it takes root. Right in the center.

He looks down at your feet. “What happened to your other shoe?”

You scrunch up your face. “I don’t… I was getting in bed, I think. But it wasn’t my bed. I forgot that things aren’t—“

That things aren’t the same anymore.

He crouches down, untying the laces of your boot and shucking it aside somewhere.

“Alright, come on.”

You slide off the counter, clumsy and uncoordinated. He takes your hand in his, leads you up to the bedroom.

The stairs are difficult for your tired, barely working brain. He has to stop multiple times to physically lift your legs or stop you from falling over and cracking your head open.

You finally make it up there, though, and he realizes that you probably won’t want to sleep in your everyday clothes.

“One last step.”

He can’t help but notice how intimate the moment is. Not intimate-intimate, but. He instructs you softly to lift your arms so he can tug your shirt over your head and replaces it with a soft shirt of his own.

Staring into your eyes is too charged and allowing his eyes to wander is bad for obvious reasons, so he keeps his gaze firmly fixed on the junction of where your neck meets your shoulder.

He keeps his eyes there as he helps you out of your pants and into a pair of flannel pajama pants. The same ones he’d given you the first night you came. You’ve never slept and he’s never seen you go to any of the places he knows have extra clothes, so he’s almost positive you don’t have any pajamas at all.

His fingers work quickly to tie the drawstring on the pants, and even then, they hang low on your hips.

He doesn’t let his eyes linger.

“Come on,” He says taking your arm and tugging you toward the bed. “Time for sleep.”

“It’s the middle of the day,” You mumble, standing in place. “And I can’t, what if they—“

“I’ll be here the whole time. I’ll keep watch.”

You mull his words over in your head for a few moments before stumbling the final few steps into the bed. You practically collapse into it, shuffling for a just few seconds before your breath evens out.

You’re asleep.

He reaches over, adjusting the blankets a bit, before grabbing the book he’d left on the bedside table and settling down in the chair by the bed.

The hours tick by quietly, accompanied only by the quiet rustling of pages turning and your soft snores.

For the first time in awhile, he doesn’t feel restless.

—

You sleep for a full eighteen hours straight before you stir.

He’s a good portion of the way through his book before he see’s your body tense in the corner of his eye. Your breathes are still even and deep, so if he couldn’t see you, he probably wouldn’t notice you’re awake.

“You’ve been asleep for eighteen hours,” He says, voice rough and scratchy with disuse, “You got in bed voluntarily.”

“You changed my clothes.”

“You didn’t seem all that capable of doing so yourself and I didn’t think you wanted to sleep in jeans. You mind?”

“…No.”

“Good. Go back to sleep.”

“I can’t just—“

“You didn’t sleep for five days. If we’re going by the eight hours a night average needed or whatever, that’s forty hours. You’ve still got twenty-two left to catch up on.”

You roll over to face him with a grumble. “I don’t like how good you are at mental math.”

“Get better, then.”

You shimmy out from under the blankets, tossing him an “I have to pee,” as you make your way out of the room.

It’s early morning now, weak sunlight behind to strain its way through the curtains. He figures it’s a good enough time to make some food (and coffee) if you’re going to be going to back sleep, so he meanders down to the kitchen and throws together a small breakfast.

“Did you make us breakfast?”

He never really gets used to how quietly you move through rooms.

“Jesus— yes. Here.”

He hands you a bowl with oatmeal and a small plate with a slice of toast— toasted in a pan, because electricity aside, he doesn’t own a toaster. Why waste time scavenging for an appliance when something else works just as fine?

He sets a jar of jam on the counter that he’d picked up awhile ago in exchange for fixing the hinge on somebody’s door.

“You got any allergies?”

“None that matter.”

He nods to the table. “Go eat. Then get back in bed.”

“You’re so bossy.”

“And you’re annoying. Eat.”

You eat quickly and quietly, then wordlessly follow him back upstairs, climbing back into bed.

“Joel?” You whisper.

“Hm?”

“Thank you.”

He tucks the blanket up over your shoulder. “Go to sleep.”

You obey easily.

—

Things between the two of you… soften after that. He slowly sees more pieces of your personality than the wild thing he met that day in the woods.

He learns that you love peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, but miss peanut butter and nutella sandwiches more than anything. He learns that on good days, you like drinking coffee straight black, but on bad days, you like it with milk and sugar.

He learns that your limp is the result of one careless mistake you’d made when you first surviving on your own.

“I thought the house was abandoned. It wasn’t,” You’d rolled up your pant leg to show horrific, deep, jagged scars circling your ankle, “Guy had set out a bear trap to slow down some of the clickers in the area. It was dark. Didn’t notice it until too late.”

He learns that you, despite your snide remarks and sarcastic comments, like having him around. He feels a bit like earning the trust of a stray cat.

You begin to grow more comfortable with life in Jackson, though not by much. He’s sure you weren’t a people person before the outbreak, much less so now that he knows some of the horrors you’ve been through before you got here.

He’s even started getting used to how quietly you move.

It’s easy to fall into a rhythm, from there.

He wakes up, goes downstairs. Sometime’s there’s a knife thrown at him, sometimes there isn’t. You’re usually sprawled on the couch, drool coming out of your mouth and grumbling incoherently about “old men and their stupid early mornings.”

It’s almost endearing.

Since Joel spends a lot of time helping Maria and Tommy get ready for their baby, you, in turn, get to know the both of them by being stuck with Joel. Maria set you on edge at first, Tommy slightly less so, but through continuous interactions your prickly nature smoothed.

One night, you were all seated on their couch after enjoying a dinner together —not the first and definitely not the last— having quiet conversation. You’re totally passed out on Joel’s shoulder, dead-asleep and quite content to use him as a human teddy bear.

Maria smiles over her mug of tea. “She’s grown on you.”

Joel rolls his eyes. “Yeah, yeah. She’s not all bad.”

“High praise coming from Joel Miller.”

You have grown on him. And in turn, your relationship has started to grow into… something else. Sometimes his eyes linger just a little too long, and the looks you share feel just a little too charged.

Tommy sends him a look full of words only true siblings can understand.

“No, Tommy.”

“Oh come on Joel! You both clearly—“

“We are not having this conversation right now.”

“Why not?”

“Because—“

You fling an arm out wildly, smacking him in the side of his face and grasping around until your pointer finger finally finds his lips.

“Shhhh. M’ sleeping.”

He wraps his hand around your wrist, prying your fingers off his face. “You know that’s what bed’s are for. Or couches. Or any number of surfaces I’ve found you sleeping on.”

“You’re a surface I’m sleeping on.”

“I shouldn’t be.”

“Why not?”

“Because I’m not a bed. Come on, up and at em’.”

You whine at the loss of warmth when he stands, scowling as you haul yourself to your feet. As he’s putting on his boots by the door, he hears you thanking Maria and Tommy for their hospitality, and he can’t help the little smile that twitches on his face. Seems like his parents weren’t the only ones who made sure he had manners.

You meet him at the door, hopping in place to put your boots on and getting frustrated when they don’t slide on immediately.

“You know, it would help if you untied the laces—“

“Fuck off.”

He blinks. That seems a little more mean than you usually say nowadays.

So Joel takes a step back. Watch’s your legs and your shoes and your hands—

There.

Your hands shake as you fumble with the laces, unable to get a good grip on the thin cords to untie and re-tie your shoes.

He shoos your hands away from the singular boot you haven’t managed to get on.

“Sit.”

He’s thankful that he built the shoe bench for Maria a few weeks after he got to Jackson. It serves Maria well for not having to stand while she attempts to put her shoes on while heavily pregnant, a feat she bemoaned a few times, and now it’s serving you.

You plop down on the bench with a huff, crossing your arms as Joel crouches, undoing the laces of your boot and sliding it on.

“I can do it.”

“I know you can.”

“Why’re you doing it?”

“Because.”

“That’s not an answer.”

He secures the tie on one boot and moves on to the next. “It is tonight.”

Once both shoes are on, you both bid Tommy and Maria good night, and make your way home.

If your hand find’s Joel’s, then that’s not anyone’s business.

—

He notices things after that.

You’ve started snapping at him more often. You’re not sleeping as much. You’ve started flat out refusing to go with him on daily chores as tasks, which either leads to an argument or the both of you staying at home all day.

It all comes to a head when you wake up screaming.

He thunders down the stairs, ducking on instinct for a knife that doesn’t come. You’re not on the couch. He whips his head around, the screaming stopped he can’t find you—

A thud. A panicked gasp.

He moves on slow, apprehensive feet towards the kitchen, crouching down to see you huddled under the table, knife clenched in your hand and pointed toward him.

“Hey, hey, what’s going on?”

Your eyes are wide and shining with tears.

“You died.”

“I didn’t. I’m right here.”

You shake your head, breaths coming short and shallow.

He settles on the floor, crossing his legs. “Here, take my hand. Come on.”

He extends his hand into the space between you two. Achingly slowly, you put down the knife, and take his hand in yours.

“See? I’m still here.”

Eventually, your breathing slows, and the fear begins to leave your eyes. You drop his hand.

“I’m sorry.”

“Nothing to be sorry for.”

“No, no it’s just—“ You break off with a strangled noise.

He waits. Lets a few minutes tick by.

“Does this have anything to do with the fact you’ve been avoidin’ me?”

You look down. “You noticed?”

“I do have eyes, sweetheart.”

You grab the knife again, twisting it this way and that in your hands.

“I’m scared.”

“Of what?”

“Of you.”

He tilts his head. “How come?”

You’re silent for a little while again.

“I feel… okay with you.”

“And that’s scary?”

“Yes,” You breathe, “You could leave, or die, and it scares me that I’m already attached to you. That having nightmare’s of you dying affects me so much. That they happen at all.”

He hums. “Seem’s were at an impasse.”

He taps a finger on his knee.

“It’s not all bad. To care.”

“Who are you and what have you done with Joel Miller?”

He huffs, shaking his head. “You know, against my better judgment, I’ve come to tolerate having you around.”

“Tolerate?”

“Mhm.”

“Nothing else?”

“No.”

“So you’ve never thought about kissing me?”

Heat rushes to his face. “Is that really a question you want to be asking right now?”

“Yes.”

“Mm,” He stands, “Well I don’t answer that kind of question at this hour. Come on.”

He reaches under the table and pulls you out.

You clamber to your feet, still a little shaky after your nightmare.

You turn to go back to the couch, but stops when he tugs on your arm.

“Mm-mm. No couch tonight.”

You look up at him, a question in your eyes he doesn’t know how to answer with words.

He steps forward, rough hands coming up to your face, thumb swiping the crest of your cheek.

“Tell me to stop.”

“I won’t.”

He leans down, capturing your lips in a kiss, soft and slow.

He pulls away after a few moments, searching your face for any sign of negativity or displeasure or disgust or, or—

You surge up, kissing him again, all the same fiery passion he saw the day you met.

“I suppose that answers my question.”

He chuckles. “You think?”

“I hope so.”

His hands slide down to your waist. and he can’t resist the little squeeze he gives the skin there.

“Alright. Back to bed, let’s go.”

“I forgot how tired old men get.”

“Please don’t call me an old man right after we kiss.”

He can hear your quiet snorting laughter as you climb the stairs, socked feet silent as always.

You climb into bed first, shoving yourself into the side by the wall and then making grabby motions for Joel.

“Am I just a pillow to you?”

“Yes. Come be a pillow.”

He rolls his eyes but slips into bed next to you and quietly relishes in the pleased hum you let out as you wrap your arms around his waist, practically smashing your face into his chest.

“You comfortable there?”

“Mhm.”

He curls one arm around you, his other hand coming up to cup the back of your neck. This close, he feels the shudder run through your body at the motion, and curious, he gives your nape a little squeeze.

Your reaction is instantaneous. You go limp- completely boneless.

“I got you, I got you. Go to sleep, now.”

It doesn’t take you long. And with you asleep so soundly in his arms, he follows right behind you.

☆⋆｡𖦹°‧★

[shorthaltsjester]

listen. unless a character explicitly states that a difference in lifespan between them and someone they care about is a concern of their’s, lifespan angst is the most boring and meaningless trope you can add to a fic/fan work. like, yes it is sad to lose someone but that is not because of a difference in lifespan. an elf with 1000+ year life expectancy might die tomorrow, a goliath might live longer than expected. it feels extremely reductive to look at characters with different fantasy races and decide that the biggest concern is that one will outlive the other when those characters have expressed no concern about either outliving or leaving their loved ones behind. like, i get the fear of death and trying to understand that through fictional characters but just do it with the ones who have expressed an actual concern with it, not with characters who seem delighted to get to love someone at all, even if it is brief and mortal. we don’t love people because we think it will be forever, and it hurts when the impermanence of the people we love becomes clear. but if i spent as much time factoring together matters of health and life expectancy for the people i love to try to predict when they’ll die so that i’ll be ready to lose them, i would have a lot less time to love them and it will still hurt just as much when they are no longer around.

[anewdaywilldawn]

🌸 CHAPTER 7 OUT!!! 🌸

This was one of my favorites, keep up the good work bestie 💜

🪐 no celestial ; kanallen

— chapter seven

"Kanata was a poor little angel that heaven couldn't help. He'd always been a tough one, not trusting anyone but his little brother Nayuta, the only person that ever made him feel love. Growing up by themselves, he did everything in his power to protect his sick brother, things that dirtied his holy hands. "It's for a good cause though", he thought. But it wasn't enough, and Nayuta died soon after.

Kanata's soul was completely spent. He became unable to feel love, and adding to his dirty dealings that soon were found out, he got cast out of heaven. Fallen on Earth with his wings blackened, he felt so lost and empty he thought he could've just died.

But a random encounter with a very annoying, persistent, stupid redhead human boy would've made him discover love again."

2889 words

genre: supernatural, hurt/comfort, angst

warnings: none

previous ✧ next

Allen stood there, his jaw dropped. Before them, the smoke slowly dissipated, revealing two figures, both with black horns, bat wings and a pointed tail.

Demons.

The boy felt lightheaded for a moment, trying to take everything in. If angels were real, of course demons were as well. But when he looked over to where Kanata was standing, the other looked pretty much at ease, his face impassible. Weren't they supposed to be enemies? Why did the angel know them already and even looked close?

"Hey there, Kanata! Ya seem to be makin' human friends!" one of the demons, who wore traditional clothing and was adorned in a bunch of golden accessories, teased him as if he was talking to an old friend of his. He strode across the room, the sound of his geta echoing, followed by his muscular companion. He stopped right in front of Kanata. The white haired boy's expression shifted to a visibly annoyed one, arms crossed, muttering a small "we ain't friends" that only made the man grin.

"Ah excuse me kiddo... we haven't introduced ourselves yet" he turned to Allen with a smile, "I'm Iori Suiseki 'n I lead one of the demonic clans in Hell. This buff guy behind me is Zen" he pointed to the tall man, who despite the huge appearance had soft eyes.

"Kanata-kun!! You look like you've gotten a lot better, I'm glad!" Zen walked straight to the angel's face, being all cheerful with him.

"Don't be so close... ugh, you're so damn noisy" Kanata grimaced, taking a step behind, "Ignore 'em, Suzaku. So, why are you here?"

"Everybody in Hell and Heaven heard all that noise ya made earlier, y'know?"

Iori turned back to Kanata, looking at him straight in the eye. His face was unreadable, but Allen could feel that there was something more implied behind those words. The well masked worry of the man made Allen listen intently, being himself on edge after seeing what happened to the angel.

Kanata just tsked, his eyes empty.

"So what? I don't remember y'all being my caregivers or somethin' like that. There's nothin' else we need to tell each other anymore."

Anymore? Allen wondered if something else had happened prior to Kanata falling. Why did he have business with demons? Was that the reason why he fell? He wanted to know more of him so badly, but he knew having to wait for the boy to say something was probably for the best.

"Aw, why are ya bein' so detached with us, now? Is the fact we wanna help you a bit that bad?" The demon said over-dramatically, pretending to sob, "Ya see, you and us... we ain't that different."

Zen got once again close to Iori, whispering in his ear if that was "the right moment to tell him" ; the man just looked at him back. Thankfully, Kanata didn't hear that, but nonetheless his patience started wearing thin by each second that passed.

"... Are you tryna hide somethin' from me, Suiseki-san?" the boy spat, looking into him. No matter how polite he had to be with that man, he couldn't hide the urgency in his tone.

"Not at all. I'm here to tell ya everythin' you gotta know, in fact."

"Hah?"

"Kanata, you don't know who your father is, am I right?"

"I don't... but what has that to do with–"

"I always gotta keep track of the people who work for me, so I made sure to do some research on ya..." Iori interrupted Kanata, still smiling even though his eyes weren't, "I always knew ya were a special kid, y'know?"

"... What does this mean?!" Kanata's eyes started to waver, as he couldn't bear to look at the man in the eyes anymore. His gaze shifted, and Allen felt the angel's eyes on him for a second, probably in search of something that could calm him down.

"Kanata, you and your brother were born from an angel... and a demon."

Half angel, half demon. Kanata looked down, his heart hammering in his chest. Suddenly everything made sense: Nayuta and him receiving the snake earrings when they were children, them being isolated from the other angels because they were scared of the twins' aura, their shitty mother wanting to get rid of them and calling them a mistake... all of it was because of their father. He felt dizzy.

"This... this can't be..." he uttered in a shaky tone, keeping his head low.

"Oh really? I'm sure you've always believed it, deeply in your heart."

Tsk. That damn demon was right. The beauty of temptation had been plaguing his mind since long ago, staining his heart more and more. The purity of angels had always been a dream to him. When he looked at Suiseki again, he understood the similarity: his gelid gaze was as wild as the demons' fiery one, no room for innocence.

"Now, your angel-demon nature makes things hard for ya." the demon started, his expression serious but soft, "You've fallen, so your demonic powers are finally surfacin'..."

"My... demonic powers?"

"That's right. You've always had them, but your angel side made sure to suppress them..." Muscles intervened, worry evident in his tone, "Now that you're a fallen angel, they're coming back to you in an enhanced form."

"So... that outburst of energy that happened earlier was..."

"Demonic power takin' over ya, yeah. If ya don't learn to keep your feelings at bay and control it... you might cause a real mess."

"And at that point, guards will bring you to Hell."

Head in hands, Kanata tried to digest all the things the demons were telling him. Hell, he didn't even know he had powers, let alone destructive ones. Although he didn't mind being associated with that other reality, as he felt close to it more than he had ever felt with Heaven's side, he didn't want to go to Hell, nor he wanted to harm anyone. No more of that. He had already caused so much pain in the past. His initial thoughts about dying were surfacing again, thinking that maybe he really did deserve to disappear, after all. All of this happening to him was only further proof of the curse he was bearing.

"I'm not gonna let that happen to you!!"

Kanata and the demons turned to the redhead, who hadn't said anything until that very moment. The boy looked as devastated as someone who had received the news of a parent passing away, and Kanata's heart hurt at that sight. Oh, how much he hated to be pitied. Angry tears prickled his eyes, but he managed to fight them for now.

"Oh boy, your human friend looks like he doesn't want ya to go at all~" Suiseki was teasing him again, trying to lighten up the mood a bit.

The other boy immediately panicked, having spoken out of place accidentally, "Uh... I'm sorry to interrupt you. But yes, I... I wouldn't want anything to happen to him, ever." he composed himself again, speaking firmly.

"God... shut up." Kanata murmured in a pout, but apparently everyone else still heard him, considering how amused Suiseki looked. The demon hummed happily, enjoying Kanata's slightly distressed expression.

What was so funny about it?

Suiseki turned to Suzaku again and got closer, putting a hand on the boy's shoulder, "I'll make sure nothin' ever happens to him." he reassured the redhead.

"... Hah? Wouldn't I be more useful to you if I were in Hell?"

"Ya ain't wrong, but I know it's not what ya want. You've suffered enough."

While Kanata furrowed his brows in confusion, asking himself what he did to receive such kindness from a stupid demon, Suiseki snapped his fingers, summoning three other figures: one was tall, with curly green hair and kind eyes; another one had orange hair and the demeanor of a little delinquent; the shortest one had pink hair and looked particularly annoying. They all wore tattoos and golden jewelry that stood out in contrast to the dark appearance of demons, exactly like Suiseki. Kanata thought they were also part of his clan, even though he never saw them back when he used to do jobs for the demon.

"Here they are! Hokusai, Satsuki and Reo are gonna watch over ya and teach ya a thing or two on how to control your powers." the leader proudly pointed at each one of them in the order in which they appeared.

"Ugh, that's booooring~ I don't like staying here on Earth!" the pink haired boy, Reo, whined so loudly he immediately got on Kanata's nerves. No one seemed to mind his tantrum though, being probably used to it.

"Shaddup, you brat! We gotta follow Aniki's orders!" the orange bastard, Satsuki, started arguing with the pink gremlin going on a rampage about values and helping people in need, the other guy seemingly uninterested in it. Again, no one questioned their behavior.

"Stop fighting... helping this boy is important, remember?" the gentle giant, Hokusai, spoke in a voice so low it was barely audible, and yet his tender smile was enough to make his younger companions stop. Kanata even doubted that could be classified as an "evil being".

The redhead, who had been standing close to Kanata the whole time, turned to him. "Are these... really demons?" he asked, confusion laced in his voice.

"Considerin' how noisy they are... yeah." the angel facepalmed at the chaotic sight in front of him, not sure if that was really a gift from Suiseki, or only something that could've made him go insane sooner. Suzaku giggled at that response.

"Oi! We're here for ya, y'know? You could be a bit more grateful!!" Satsuki stomped towards them, pointing at Kanata with his best intimidating expression. Kanata wasn't impressed.

"I don't need any of y'all annoyin' ass demons." he replied flatly, distancing himself from the orange haired guy. He could hear the other's overly exaggerated "HAAAH?!" behind him but he ignored it.

"Come on, Kanata-kun... I promise they'll get better." Muscles readily reassured him, noticing how frustrated the angel looked, being surrounded by so many people all at once. Suiseki joined in the conversation too, wrapping his arm around Kanata's shoulder. "I'm sure all of you guys will become friends in no time!" he flashed the boy a smile, even though the latter wasn't really sure about it, nor he was enthusiastic about spending time with them. If anything, the mere thought of it gave him a headache.

"I'm counting on ya, alright?" the demon turned to his little brothers, who gave a firm nod.

"Yeah, Aniki! Leave it to us!"

And with that, Suiseki and Muscles disappeared in a black smoke.

The demon trio approached the other boys again, their aura incredibly strong. They looked friendly, too friendly for Kanata's taste. Was he only able to attract annoying people he wanted nothing to do with?

"Mm... we're also going, now." Gentle Giant spoke first, smiling kindly at him and Suzaku, "We live not too far from here."

Orange Bastard got again too close for comfort, a confident smirk on his face. "Yeah! Just call us whenever ya need help and we'll rush to ya!"

"I said I don't– ...whatever." Kanata sighed in defeat, making the redhead giggle silently once more. This time though, the angel turned to him with threatening eyes, his cue for the other guy to quit laughing, or else.

The last one to speak was Pink Gremlin, waving his hand, "We'll talk a lot more next time! See you~"

The room fell silent after their disappearance. Kanata finally breathed out as tension left his body, so damn exhausted after all he went through in just a day. He felt weird about that entire situation, about Suzaku standing up for him despite having learned how dangerous he was, how much of a monster was. Glancing at the boy, he looked as shaken as Kanata was, but his eyes were shining with determination. He was really not going to give up anytime soon, huh.

"I'm gonna lay down for a bit. My head hurts." he simply said emotionlessly. The redhead looked at him, eyes softening sympathetically.

"I'm gonna heat some food up so we can eat later, okay?"

The boy was met with no reply as Kanata just disappeared in his room. Sinking in the messy red sheets, he closed his eyes and tried to rest, but his thoughts just couldn't leave him alone for not even a moment. He thought about his conversation with Suiseki, how he helped him without asking for a repayment, how he even sent his own little brothers to help the poor angel in distress. Being cared for, unconditionally... it was something Kanata had experienced only with Nayuta, his one and only family. No protection ever received from the woman he could hardly call a "mother"; if anything, she was the very person who had thrown them to the snakes.

His mind wandered again, remembering Suiseki calling him and Suzaku "friends". Was that how they really looked like? He thought it was pretty much clear that he couldn't stand the redhead's ass, although... maybe something between them was a bit different now, as if some chemical effect was slowly taking place. Heat rose up to his cheeks, as he grumbled to himself while hugging his pillow in a pout.

Dinner time came and went, still no trace of Pink Hair and Mushroom-head returning. The two boys sat on their bed, their backs pressed against the headboard, enjoying for once a comfortable silence.

It didn't last long, as the angel felt the boy beside him shifting a little bit so he could look at him.

"Kanata... are you okay?"

Kanata hummed, hugging his knees. It was time. He couldn't keep this secret, this burden in his heart any longer. He then took a deep breath, turning to the redhead.

"... You've heard it from Suiseki-san, right? That I used to have a twin brother called Nayuta."

"Used to...?"

"He was sick and died some time ago."

The other shivered visibly, looking down. The angel saw him listening intently, not uttering a single word. He continued.

"It's my fault, all of it. It's cause I'm an abomination. I was a horrible brother, a horrible son... and I couldn't even keep my promise to find a cure for him, despite working hard for Suiseki-san."

Kanata dug his nails into the uncovered flesh of his legs, leaving slight marks behind. Suzaku rushed to stop him from hurting himself any longer, grabbing his wrists. Their hands touched for a mere second, the redhead's slender fingers wrapping around the angel's calloused ones.

"You're not an abomination." the guy started, his eyes wavering, "I'm sure you did your best for your brother... he's proud of you."

Kanata laughed bitterly, staring at his feet as he shook his head, speaking more and more frantically.

"That's bullshit. It wasn't enough. I should've worked harder for him... I should've been a good boy like him... I should've died, after all–"

"Stop! Stop saying that!"

The redhead yelled and hugged him, on the verge of tears. He sobbed quietly, hiding his face in the crook of the angel's neck. The latter was completely taken off guard, stilling in the other boy's embrace. He's never been this close to another human being before and he didn't know what to do, but he felt oddly comfortable: his body immediately reacted, warmth spreading everywhere.

"... W-why are you cryin' for me?" Kanata stuttered, trying his best to not sound affected by the weird feeling in his stomach, "I'm a monster. There's somethin' inside of me that is deadly... why don't you get I could kill ya?"

Suzaku sniffled like a kid, raising his head so he could look at the angel in the eyes, "You won't, I'm sure of it. Look, you're worrying about me now..."

"I'm not– ugh, nevermind... get yourself off of me right now."

Kanata pushed against Suzaku's chest a bit as the latter broke the hug, wiping some tears that had spilled away, blushing just slightly. The white haired boy gave him an impassibile look.

"Look at ya, cryin' like a baby... you're pathetic."

"You're also crying, though..."

The redhead pointed at Kanata's face, a single tear falling down. His eyes widened when he felt his hand slightly wet after touching his own cheek. His emotions were all over the place now, spilling out more and more as the other guy kept on breaking the cage that contained his heart. That was the first time he was letting himself be vulnerable.

After the guy went back to his side of the bed, he gave one last glance to the angel, looking dead serious. "Kanata... I'm not going anywhere."

"Mm?"

"I won't leave you alone, no matter what. I'll do my best to make you happy."

"Shut up, I'm gonna vomit."

Kanata immediately laid down to sleep, hiding his face from the redhead, who was laughing softly. What the hell was wrong with him, saying that sorta cheesy stuff out of the blue? As he kept mentally cursing the other guy, he didn't realize he was blushing again, feeling once more that something in his stomach that was both weird and incredibly pleasing.

It felt so good, he wanted to drown in it.

[mygnolia]

FALLING FOR MY MC! ౨ৎ y. jungwon

୨୧ -› where a music bank mc and leader of the hottest k-pop group meet and fall in love (again)

pair -› idol!yang jungwon x radio/podcast host!!reader | trope -› childhood friends to lovers | wc -› 1.9k | REN SAYS.. i thought this idea was cute when someone requested fanboy won + weekly idol mc reader (i never watch weekly idol so have music bank instead..) and im scared of writing idol x fangirl entirely so have this spinoff! | library

- you and jungwon have been friends for a while even before he went on i-land

- he’s always been into performing, singing, and especially dancing

- sometimes you’d stay behind at school and watch him do taekwondo + dancing

- and while he was student body president, you were the president of broadcasting too!

- you loved to talk to others and be in front of a camera and also wanted to make your own padcast, but never really knew how

- so you two were definitely in communication because of your positions!

- and… drum roll please… jungwon gets a little crush on you

- let’s just say he started thinking about you whenever you started morning broadcast for the school… or when you announced his name and his plans as student body president he went all blush-y

- he thought you were super cool and loved how effortless you were in front of everyone

- like time slows down when he looks at you, his eyes go glittery everyone else disappears..

- HES WHIPPED I FEAR!!!

more under the cut :3

- you two hung out a lot afterschool and sometimes at each others houses, but you also had other friends- friends who would also become idols!!

- you’re friends with chaewon and ningning hehe

- so now that highschools kind of ending, a lot of your friends started seriously pursuing music and the idol life, but you were never quite as devoted as they were

- and unfortunately by senior year, jungwon left for i-land :(

- you tried to be close but they didn’t allow outside communication and summer left you extremely busy

- and you were really sad that you couldn’t hang out with jungwon as much, but you still had other friends and were close to many from your school because of how big your journalism class was (aka where you did your broadcasting duties)

- but watching iland was your pasttime!! you voted jungwon EVERY. SINGLE. TIME. because you knew how much work went into his skills

- and who even cares if it was biased everyone was biased in their voting

- and you loved the drama and all his other members (but god it was heartbreaking and when jungwon stood on that second to elimination stage you cried)

- when enhypen debuted, you stayed a fan not just because of jungwon, but because of his interactions and their music

- enhypen was popular from the get-go because of iland, and you paid attention to their comebacks and texted jungwon every so often

- you two weren’t able to meet because of his busy tour schedule and back to back combacks (FREE MY BOYS)

- but you always supported them wherever whenever, and even trying to get concert tickets to attend whenever they were in your area

- plus you were still a broke college student and busy with your own interests

- but it didn’t stop you from consuming their content

- and if something happened you’d text jungwon, not really expecting a text back since he was so busy, but he’d always try to respond

- “omg not your cactus dying???” and he’d respond with some laughing

- “maeumi is so big now i saw her on your live on your arm” “STOP IT WAS SO EMBARRASSING”

- little things here and there

- and maybe yes… you were a little fangirl…

- ALBUM PULLS WERE HALF JUNGWON SOME SUNOO SOME HEESEUNG BTW!!! you were eating up your pc album

- and you’d always compliment him after a comeback or a show you went to

- “ahh! tamed-dashed is so good i think my fav song from your album is just a little bit! make sure you rest so your pictures turn out cute :)”

- OK BUT THE MOMENT YOU TRULY FELL FOR HIM like actually a ‘wtf omg why is yang jungwon so HOT why do i have a MASSIVE CRUSH ON HIM (again)”

- was…drum roll…l’officiel jungwon with only the blazer and then dicon tw-en-ty years jungwon with the cherry photoshoot (not projecting LOL haha…)

- yeah you were whipped

- but ofc you didn’t want to make him uncomfortable, trying to keep your comments supportive more than fangirl-y

- you and jungwon finally have time to catch up when he’s back home for a bit, and he texts you more often since you were still somewhat busy with school

- and you two reminisce on how he wanted to be an idol pre-iland and how you love to talk on the radio which he’s listened to a few times!!! (yapper y/n agenda!!!)

- and you still loved to do broadcasting even in university

- you were on a few broadcast groups and was a temporary university podcast host for studying encouragement and you shared your struggles as an incoming upperclassman

- many people listened for the tips and fun story submissions to listen to while studying!

- and you’d look for jobs and hoped to find a larger podcast or station

- so much so that you auditioned and reached out to a popular radio show host about love and dating advice called ’Let’s Find You Love!’

- and your station was SUPER popular considering how sweet and sincere your advice was

- you were honest with viewers in toxic relationships and also got popular online

- special valentines day episode! you and your host shared stories about YOUR first crush and love experiences

- your host shared some bad relationships and what not to do! but you…?? you had a crush on yang jungwon. still. ofc he looked good!!!

- “to be honest, there was this boy in highschool who i liked, and i wish i got to ask him out, honestly. he was super sweet every time we talked, and he was always so hardworking.” and with the way you said it, the people who knew you from school couldn’t deduce if it was someone close to you or someone who you pined over from a distance

- agh the mystery!! everyone is hooked on your cute story, telling you to admit your crush to him!

- BUT HELLO?? ITS LEADER OF ENHYPEN JUNGWON YOU CANT DO THAT!!!

- tiktok frl went ‘damn i want someone to talk about me the way y/n from lets find u love talked about her crush’

- but it became a HUGE hit

- so much so that music bank reached out and WOAHHH

- they want you?? as??? an??? mc????

- usually they would pick idols, but the idol that did their music bank performance had an injury, and you were doing it alone since music bank didn’t want to start rumors!

- and woah.. enhypen new comback had you on your KNEES

- plus listening to jungwon is always so satisfying, especially to see him grow and explore different concepts and looks, you were not only loving the face cards being served but also his energy and love for his fans!!

- so yeah, safe to say your feelings for him were still there..

- but then they perform on music bank for xo, and you’re…THERE???

- jungwon’s looking at you, who’s looking super pretty as you rehearse your lines and the stylists are adding to your look before the show

- and he turns to his members like dude.

- and all of them are confused like ?? “jungwon what’s wrong..”

- “DUDE MY CHILDHOOD FRIEND IS HERE AS THE MC AND SHE’S SO PRETTY”

- thankfully camera crew was on break..but when they were back

- yeah fans were defo in their comments like “woah why is jungwonnie so nervous??” literally who’s gonna tell them the girl he hasn’t seen in like 6 years is in front of him pretty like how he remembers??

- and you kind of wanted to surprise jungwon by not telling him, but you also never had the time to speak up with all the media training you needed

- everyone was excited for you to be mc! it was a change of pace but a fun one for the audience

- welp it’s go time!!

- “hello everyone!! woah.. is it time for..my dating advice segment? nono! i’m here as…” you pretend to open a letter and look around “music bank’s emcee?? wow, such an honor!!” and ofc you turn on the dramatics to act

- and what group to walk in but enhypen…

- jungwon smiles IMMEDIATELY. fans analyzed this whole video

- ‘dude jungwon is WHIPPED for that mc’ ‘jungwon when he meets the pretty mc” “so we’re all seeing jungwon check out the girl on music bank or…”

- you had your own little script related to their new concept, asking a few questions and then moving onto a member specific question

- “jungwonnie! i noticed you wrote the part for hundred broken hearts! can we have you sing it?”

- THING IS…who says ‘jungwonnie’ so freely?? if you guys never met?? yeah speculation was running a little out of hand fr!

Jungwon shakes his head, dimples reappearing as he takes another look at you and nods. He sings his written part into the mic, and unknowingly, you smile too. “Ah- sorry, I’m too nervous to be singing it well.” And you scoff at him, looking around at his members. “He did it great, don’t you agree, Jake? Your voice is like an angel.” You call out to Jake, who originally sings that part.

Jake tells you, “Agh, he might steal my fans if he decides to sing that part live” and you laugh, eyes crinkling as you smile at Jake’s response to move onto the next question.

- and jungwon in that moment remembers why he liked you

- your laugh, your smile, your easy-going nature, and how much you had chased for your passions over the years

- and he’s just super super proud of you for where you are now, being a literal mc

- and he knows you love doing it

- after a bit more talking they went to perform and you went back!

- he’s super nervous after their performance and the members tease him for his little crush saying how he’d get a girlfriend before all of them

- oh yeah engenes were raving abt u

- “jungwonie’ and he doesn’t even look uncomfortable they must be friends”

- it takes a few internet detectives to figure out that it’s him who used to go to school with you and it’s him who you had a huge crush on woahhh

- and then jungwon found out.

- “y/n!! look at this tiktok lolol” “jungwon why is it titled ‘y/nwon confirmed with evidence’”“it’s funny >.<“

- ur freaking out like crazy

- cuz wdym jungwon SAW IT AND FOUND IT FUNNY

- so you’re like “haha yeah so funny…anyways wyd if it’s true.”

- and he’s like freaking out on his end like omfg is it true omg does she know “idk walk over and cuddle and kiss” HE BOLD!!

- anyways ygs do just that!! sooo cute and you two are very very secretive

- until…drum roll pls..one year after the initial valentines day episode on your podcast aka 7 months after you started dating jungwon

- and he’s waiting in your living room with all of your gifts but you have no idea since you’re recording live in your studio

- “for this valentines day episode i had people submit some cute love stories! and yes i will share one of my own”

- and you read all of them and laugh at the cute stories about love because yes love we love love!

- “the moment you were waiting for! so, little one year update, but i listened to you all and the boy i liked in highschool is now my boyfriend and we’ve been together 7 months!”

- yeah the internet freaked out

- because the timeline from xo comeback to valentines day makes sense for the engenes who knew

- but ygs are so cute so who’s complaining

reblogs + interactions are always appreciated :)

[terriblyrenderedenigma]

On Transformers and Human soulmate tropes...

(i do personally attack starscream at the end, i'm sorry starscream lovers, i love him too, but he's just a sad, devious little guy.)

Just a little thought here, so, I love soulmate tropes. Depending on the plot, they can be really fun and take so many interesting paths as a medium used within storytelling, whether romantic or platonic.

But what i want to talk about specifically is Transformer x Human soulmate tropes. Like, you have this super sweet side to it where the bot can be like 'I have waited my entire life to find you, finally, I can hold you in my arms and we never have to part again'. Depending on the character/story/type of SM (soulmate, shortening it because I'm not gonna keep writing it out) trope of course.

Can I just say how...instrumentally fucked this is though? So you have this race of robots who live for, what is essentially millennia out in the wild unless they catch the smoke. Their soulmate ends up being this little creature that lives for 80, maybe 100 years tops before dying. -Unless we're going for some kind of mind switch body type thing, but we all know how that went with spike in g1.

Our beloved robo blorbos will eventually have to cope with the fact that their soulmate, the person or creature they're MEANT to be with via laws of the universe, will die a LOT sooner than they will.

This especially hits hard with the decepticons who, depending on continuity -- hate humanity already. Bots who've gone through so much, losing their home, friends, and their dignities; have to learn to put up with and accept this creature as their fated mate/spouse/conjux endura, whatever you want to call it- SOULMATE.

Then the decepticons just have to deal with the fact that they're going to lose this person too, just like they've already lost everything else and oh GOD. Maybe they choose to forget about them and move on, stay alone and mourn what could have been if the universe hadn't had such a fucked sense of humor. Maybe they choose to accept it, but never let their SM too close because they know they'll just be hurt so much more hurt when the inevitable comes.

Then you have to think about decepticons having to possibly protect their SM from other cons! From being taken and 'saved' by the autobots.

Imagine some bots or cons just flying off the handle, going crazy just to try and keep their human alive in any way they possibly can, afraid of running out of time.

(Starscream lovers forgive me for the angst)

And Starscream especially, Maybe he'd try. He'd have a great time, take a chance, and give it a go. But what if he's actually terrified? Maybe he'd also self sabotage a little, knowing the relationship will never last too long anyways; not in the short blink of time it would be next to his life. Maybe, he doesn't actually know what to do with himself in a positive relationship after being, i dunno, consistently dogged on by megatron and he freezes.

There's something actually good for him, and since he isn't sure how to receive or accept that fact, he's gone. And maybe he'll come back, but the cycle could repeat.

(Im sorry, unless you put a tracker on him and call his ass and really give him some therapy. get him some god damn therapy.)

But yeah. All around, the angst potential is immense for this stuff and it makes me sad to think about so I thought i would share it instead of just write about it in an actual fic because my character analysis and ability to comprehend my own thoughts is so shit.

Okay, CIAOOOOOO~

[anpanman95]

Is anyone else feeling like a clown for expecting a whole entire episode of mushy love and happiness? No? Just me? Okay.

Let's dissect every incredible part of this trailer to forget the fact there is no IQIYI logo nor an online link in it for international fans to watch it because I will probably cry myself to sleep.

We have a proposal WITH THE FAMILY. And my man Jack brought Joke FLOWERS and all I just know it's gonna be like an unexpected surprise and I CAN'T WAIT FOR IT. Also the color scheme???? BRILLIANT.

Is Jack asking for Sr. Suthi's blessing? If that's the case I will be ONLY TEARS during this. I'm a sucker for "take care of my lovely son please don't hurt him" trope I don't even know how am I going to survive this. ALSO TOI TING IS THERE DID THEY ACTUALLY ADOPT HER???

I love Jack's bedroom but I do hope they improve their love nest they deserve the sturdiest bed you know? Or maybe not...A mattress does make a lot less noise, you know? sorry I'll stop

Here's where my questions being. I know they probably get married at the end of the episode, but this part is giving "we're on our honeymoon and they rudely interrupted us now we have to put this on hold and go save the world again" Also LOOK AT THEM THEY LOOK GORGEOUS. Joke that is the most Mark-coded T-shirt you have ever worn he'd be proud.

GOD THE SUITS. BONZ??? HELLO??? JOKE WEARING THAT ICONIC WHITE SUIT AND RED BOW FROM THE PILOT??? IM NOT GOING TO SURVIVE THIS.

I KNEW IT. I KNEW THEY SHOULD HAVE KILLED THIS BITCH

It's giving don't touch my fiance and I'm delighted to witness it.

BONZ is looking FINEEEEEEEEEEEE

I don't even need to comment on this one cause no one is fucking surprised but I'm devouring this shit. They don't give a fuck they truly don't and I love them for it. Also they look DIVINE.

It seems we'll get good mushy love content and I'm just hoping it's not so short lived. We'll get to see them in action again after being a couple for a while, probably, and I'm DYING to see how their relationship improved.

They are the type to do PDA, that much is clear, and I'm loving this switching in dynamics. Their love language is killing me: Jack is cute and somewhat 'cheesy', and Joke is a bit more aggressive in his love showing. Ugh, the bear hugs? The head kisses? The hand holding? I feel like I'm starved for them to be affectionate with each other PLEASE I CAN'T TAKE THIS.

I don't even know what's even going on cause I don't know any Thai and us international fans will probably have to wait before watching this.

I hope that's not the case cause I've been DYING on this wait for this episode and I don't want to prolong it any longer.

BUT either way I'm very happy with this

IM SEATED.

BRING IT ON GAYS.

[themeaningthemeaningthe]

can’t sleep for other reasons and my brain can’t stop thinking about a post i saw and initially ignored but keep having thoughts about. i didn’t comment on it or anything and now it’s lost to the ether and i don’t wanna go looking for it but these thoughts gotta go somewhere.

this will be long and rambling and probably a little incoherent cuz it’s 3am.

the post was someone saying that they finally picked up gideon the ninth after years of seeing locked tomb posts and griddlehark, then dropped it after like 2 chapters bcuz they think the dynamic between gideon and harrow is abusive (which is fair when u first start it) and they can’t believe people are into it as enemies to lovers. on the one hand, people are totally cool to just not like something for whatever reason, i myself just have thoughts about the Nuance that i didn’t express on the post that i now must here.

lots of important spoilers for GtN!! (and maybe accidentally ones to HtN)

ok here’s the rant.

that’s the point!!!!! that’s the point.

they are terrible to each other and they have always been. the growth and the development of their character dynamics together explores how this thing between them that has always been sharp and seething and spiky must buckle under the weight of outside pressure beyond anything they could have imagined.

in a very important pool scene (one that is ubiquitous in fanart and i have to believe this poster saw at least a few times) we get an explanation from harrow! and not only does this give us a more full look into the context of drearbruh outside of gideons narrow point of view, but it also makes more clear why they were like That.

i’m sorry but literally harrow is 200 dead kids that her parents killed to make her, and gideon is the one kid they couldn’t kill. and gideon realizes once told this, she is the living reminder of the war crime committed to save the house, and no one who knows can forget it.

and harrow has known the truth of her origin since she was old enough to comprehend anything!! so yeah, a traumatized child who knows she’s the entirety of a generation of her house is gonna lash out at literally the only other child on the planet who she happens to also have power over.

and i feel like the book makes this pretty clear!! this was bad!! but also, these are two traumatized kids growing up in a dying, creepy, planet that is lowkey hell.

the other key thing about the pool scene, is that it is a Confession. these books are sooo steeped in catholicism. harrow isn’t just explaining the true history of her life, she is Confessing all of the sins that make her up and all of the sins she has committed. bearing the entirety of the wretchedness of her soul for gideon judge. expecting her only friend whom she has made miserable for years to kill her.

and i know we joke about gideon being lesbian jesus, but there’s a reason for that (besides the obvious). bcuz after hearing her Confession, gideon baptized harrow in that pool.

one flesh one end, bitch.

and also like yeah griddlehark is an enemies to lovers in some ways, but i feel like also not in the typical way you would think about that trope?? bcuz correct me if im wrong but they never really become lovers (and i personally am not sure they ever will). yes they love each other and make the grandest gestures of love imaginable. but that love is inevitably fucked up in some ways and it’s impossible for it to not be.

god that was way too long. anyway. some Nuance is necessary.

[simpjaes]

☆ WIP DIARY ── ONE OF THE DAMNED GIRLS (p.sh)☆

Moving to a city with wild nights and charming days felt like the perfect choice in your head upon finishing college. Hours away from home, you accept a job at a local museum ironically placed dead between a large historic cathedral and a booming gothic nightclub. You were meant to curate the art, not be curated yourself by a local priest who found you with buckled knees outside of said goth club.

⨯ vampyre park sunghoon x afab reader  

⨯ minors dni

⨯ TAGS ― tags are subject to change as i write this fic. modern vampire sunghoon, cathedral/chapel settings, blasphemous behavior, false holy facades, the main vampire tropes i use are the acts of drinking blood, luring, and living forever, heavy manipulation and toxic behaviors, the act of breaking for a very sexy walking dead guy

⨯ SIDE CHARACTERS: jungwon as your art friend who has an installation at the museum (and also gets tangled in the mess of you and sunghoon), jay as the hot bisexual bartender at the goth club

⨯ !WARNINGS! ― warnings are subject to change as I write this. dubious consent (due to the act of mind manipulation), a lot of blood: blood sucking, wounds/puncturing, menstruation in a sexual light, manipulation, near-death experiences, fainting, talk of death/dying/killing, acts of mind control/luring, actual dying but not really

⨯ PLAYLIST ―  ONE OF THE GIRLS - THE WEEKEND―DIAMOND DIEZ - UNITYTX

⨯ NOTE: im pausing my other wip for jay because i have been overcome with writing bloody sunghoon. i am not sorry about it and you're more than welcome to join me for this very dark ride ໒꒰ྀི ´͈ ᵕ  `͈ ꒱ྀི১

!!READ PART ONE HERE!! !!READ PART TWO HERE!!

⨯ tagging: CLOSED.

⨯ t/l: @heerinnie @jswizzledizzle @heesky @purchasingpleasures @yeonzzzn @k0npeitocandy @deobitifull @alvojake @luvyev @fullbodyblankets @zeeloveshee @seochangbinnnnnnnnnnn @missoxy @iheartjayke @defnotfertilizedtoesw @whos-viviann @skzenhalove @jakehooni @millieinyourarea @parksunghoonsgf @kwannie1601 @jjongsaengwife @purrplegyuu @starggukies @jjklvr9 @gobighee @notevenheretbh1 @oddracha @addictedtohobi @nxzz-skz @belowbun @capri-cuntz @sacrificeatmeup @seochangbinnnnnnnnnnn @jennifestival @ninoshome1 @jaeyunluvr

[master-of-stupidity]

Thread of Httyd rants from twt to here cuz I'm too lazy to space em out properly lmaoo (ignore the fact it's like all snotlout that book is evil man)

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

Genuinely needed more of Snotlouts softer side being shown ngll, the fact he enjoys sewing, cares for baby dragons, an absolute mama's boy (canon he gets letters from his mom), would rather quit being a rider all together than replace HookFang LIKE HES SO SOFT EXPLORE IT MORE 🗣🗣

Trans snotlout is something so real to me i wish there was like, any fics about it lwkyy 😞😞 Like the possibilities would be so good the way he'd tell no one n be so insecure about it omgg I NEED THIS WRITIN IM ON MY KNEESSS!! IDCC EITHER FTM OR MTF JUST MAKE IT HAPPENNN 😭😭🙏

Insane to think the most amazing symbolism I've personally ever read is like, a star pupil (with n obvious comfort/ties to a star) dying in a way that's described as a fallen star crashing n burning...like all that fcking symbolism n its like..damn this is frr just snotlout huh 😭

"Hey I have an idea, let's have a running gag of Snotlout being lit on fire, for funnies! 😊" Said the most sick n twisted writer behind the Httyd series 😭🙏

Ikk their cousins but y tff do Hiccup n Snotlout have the exact same energy as "older sibling tossed aside for the younger sibling" in the books broo..like Hiccup ain't deserve any of it ofcc but nahh the crashout valid i fearr cuz dude was born to fail omgg 😭😭🙏

Me live throwing the Httyd book 11 into the sun 4k 😃😃

I still think about often how snotlout n hiccup managed to gain the theme of "older sibling tossed aside for more favorited younger sibling" but like cousins trope in the books (ikk he's a runt still it's more so the expectations they had) like ooohhh that stings in a special way...like gonna sound like a broken record but yeaa wish this was explored more not only in the series but movies too cuz movies focused too little on the riders imoo this woulda been a good plot at least (cuz it's a huge focus they have in the books too)

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

Also I'm being nice n not including my Hookfang live action crashout (cuz tjat was definitely a mess) that's for twt viewers only 😁

[kadwrites]

a man with a reputation | T.S

read the next part

or check out the series masterlist

summary ; you cannot talk your way out of this , for the first time in your life, you're given no choice.

warnings ; angst, cursing, mild violence i guess??? , arranged marriage trope.

a/n ; maybe i'll turn this into a series? who knows, let me know what you think <3. also the accent is a mess, but im trying.

_

"no!" your eyes are wide , glassy with anger filled tears "i will not be treated like some piece of land."

"would you listen? your father and i are thinking of your future." you mother is looking at you with a stern face, sitting beside your father as you stand in front of them

"what future do you think i'll 'ave with thomas fucking shelby?" you raise your voice

"do not speak to me like that , i am your mother."

"we're old, i'm sick with god knows how many illnesses." your father speaks, his cane in his hand as he leans against it, still on the sofa

"don't start with that talk" you shake your head with a chuckle, you sniffle and turn your head away

"i don't know if i'll live another day , i am too sick to work, too sick to care for the farm, there is nothing left for me to give you" he speaks slowly with a serious voice, and it makes your heart sink "this isn't a joke or some game, i've survived the war and lived long enough to see all of you grow , but i know that my time is near, i cannot risk dying and leaving you with nothing"

your father never spoke to you like that, he was always jovial , happy.

it seems like it hits you for the first time, how much your parents have aged, how much the illness took from your father, how his sicknesses have changed him.

"celest got to marry who she chose and so did oliver and so did abraham, but i don't get to do that? i dont get to choose my own husband?" your tears start falling, your voice cracks

"i need to know you'll be taken care of , that you'll be in good hands when im dead and gone."

"and you think his hands are the good hands you speak of?" you cant help the humorless smile that graces your face, hot tears stain your cheek "you can't be serious"

"he is the most feared man in birmingham," your mother chimes in

"you are willing to sell your daughter! to some gangster!" you raise your voice again

your mother stands and faces you

"i am not selling you off, i am securing you a future, with a wealthy man, who can give you everything you can possibly want. you'll live like royalty" her words come through gritted teeth "i am not giving you away to some old pig, you're marrying a respectable man, a man with a reputation."

"a reputation? don't you know what 'appened to his first wife ? you are securing me a grave" you come nose to nose with your mother, both of you almost vibrating in anger "you are killing me is what you're doing, you're selling me off to the highest bidder"

the next thing you hear is the sound of your mother's palm against your cheek, the sound of the slap echos throughout the empty house, your head is turned, your cheek stings

your parents never laid a hand on you, even as a rebellious teenager when they caught you sneaking out the window or smoking on the roof.

your head turns slowly, eyes wide as you look at your mother, she looks mortified at her own actions,

you turn and run off and up the stairs to your room, hearing your father yell at your mother for what shes done.

at some point during the night, you had fallen asleep, but not for long. you were awake when the sun rose, your back pressed against your bed frame, looking ahead at the painting on the wall, it was a family portrait, and you were sitting on your father's lap.

you knew your sister was here when you heard the sounds of her five children, running around the house.

she knocks softly but doesn't bother to wait for an answer when she opens the door after a few seconds, she walks slowly, and sees you on the bed.

your eyes stuck on the portrait , your face almost emotionless, your tears have dried and stained your cheeks, she wonders for how long you cried, your back against the wood of the bed frame, no pillow thrown in her direction for waking you up, no annoyed words saying "you couldn't fucking come in the afternoon?" . the curtains are parted, letting the light in, which is very unusual for you.

you hear the bed creek under her weight when she gets on it, laying next to you

"i heard about yesterday" she says softly, her head turned to look at you

you only glance at her , but your head doesn't turn, then you look back at the portrait

"they're doing this for you, they want whats best for you." she's not sure if it is you she's trying to reassure you or herself , this wasn't ever supposed to happen.

her little sister was supposed to marry a man she wanted, a simple man, a man capable of love

you hum, or you make a sound at least , acknowledging her.

"he isn't all that bad, you know."

a weak chuckle escapes you at her words "in what world is thomas shelby not a bad person?" your voice is hoarse , from screaming and crying all night long no doubt.

"he can give you a good life."

"ya 'ave a good life don't you? with the man you chose, the man you love." your gaze doesn't move, still staring at the painting "its not fair, you lot got to be happy, and i don't."

"ya don't know that." her voice is full of sympathy or maybe pity, you didn't want to know.

you finally turn to your sister, "do you honestly think that i can be happy with 'im ?"

your sister hesitates , she licks her lips "he's a powerful man."

you chuckle at that too "that tends to 'appen when you're a gangster."

"i tried with them, i really did." her voice is weak too, it cracks.

your eyes well with tears again, you didn't know you could even cry anymore "i know..." your voice is a whisper

you knew she'd be against it, she wouldn't agree, maybe oliver would tell you to consider it, abraham would too, just to please your father.

but celest wouldn't

"what are ya goin' to do?" she whispers back, her tears start rolling too

"what can i do?" you ask "i dont 'ave any other choice"

she looks at you as if she didn't expect that. you were always stubborn, always talking your way out of anything you didn't want, you always got your way with your parents, thats what she taught you.

but this time, you don't want to fight back.

"you're goin' through with it?"

"i cant live knowing i disobeyed my father's dying wish."

your father was sick, and getting worse everyday. you were a stubborn woman, but the little girl inside of you couldn't bear to disobey her father.

celest wraps an arm around your shoulder, holding you to her chest, her hands runs up and down your arm , like she did when abraham would bother you to tears, or when oliver wouldn't let you play with him.

"at least he's easy on the eyes, eh?" she tries desperately to lighten the mood, her lips pressed to your forehead

" hes old." you say with a weak laugh

"hes older, not old." she corrects, with a laugh too.

[a-substantial-trash-pile]

hey guess what. it's finally time for my Stardew Valley Loredump. i’m about to ramble about my farmer and yo-yo/yoba and shane in a probably long-ass, disjointed post because i have a problem ok. not expecting anyone to read it all of course—just want to finally write these brainstorming shenanigans down. the loredump will be below the cut below the image 👇 (WARNING: IT'S LONG):

SAMUEL IZAWA:

*samuel is 28 years old, pan, japanese okinawan (no im not self projecting hahaha), and goes by he/they. main thing is that they’re from “our world” where stardew valley is a video game, but he died and ended up in the stardew universe. because i think isekai tropes are fun and silly. as the player, samuel can do things others in the stardew world can’t do, such as: 

summon the in-game HUD that’s only visible to him, so he can see health/energy levels and inventory and all that.

speaking of inventory, it’s essentially a pocket dimension samuel can shove stuff in. the inventory doesn’t really care about size/weight/etc as long as it’s something the system considers an “item.” so like samuel can put a whole ass four poster bed in there but he can’t do that to a person or a whole house. samuel just needs to touch the item to make it disappear into his inventory. he can then summon it back out when he needs it. the game’s inventory limit system remains the same. samuel gets 12 slots on their own, but if they have a bag on them it increases to 36.

can access the player menu you can normally access in game. so like profile, skills, collections, relationships, etc are all there. no options or quit tab though. having the relationship tab is a nightmare for samuel, who has major insecurities about what people think of him. that tab is a quantifiable measure on how much people like him. it a real brain demon for him to know it exists and is right there for him to access anytime. 

can see the “stats” of food and healing items. hp/energy recovery amounts, buffs, etc. 

*funny thing is that samuel has never played SDV himself and only has knowledge based on what he’s heard and seen online secondhand. ironically he was planning on playing the game for the first time before the whole dying thing ruined it. they can’t even remember how they died, but it doesn’t bother them as much as they think it should. they didn’t leave much behind in that life.

*anyway, i’m talking a lot of game terms here, but don’t get it twisted. while samuel has all these game systems going on, the SDV world is very much a real one that doesn’t normally work by that logic. by that i mean time flows normally like in our world and there isn’t just 4 months in a year. things exist outside the valley. there’s a whole planet of places and people. 

*luckily samuel has help in navigating this new world in the form of yo-yo the junimo, who is the first living thing samuel sees when he first wakes up in that joja cubicle. yo-yo helps explain a lot of things and guide samuel around in its own abrasive way. he’s also there to be like, “hey i gave you a second chance at life so you kinda owe me actually. sign this contract.” and samuel, who is a pushover and also confused, is just like, “ok.” (yo-yo sounds like danny devito btw. because i think it’s funny.) 

*i call the contract a “magical girl contract” because that’s essentially what it is. samuel gets access to extra powers/abilities on top the stuff he can already do as a player. in return he fights monsters n shit for yo-yo and generally does things for them that they can’t do easily on their own. the extra benefits include: 

higher pain tolerance. which isn’t always a good thing. especially when you tend to not be great with self-preservation like samuel is. 

can heal most injuries by just eating/drinking stuff to regain hp.

yo-yo can teleport the both of them around as needed, but it’s tiring and it drains a lot of magic. distance matters too.

yo-yo can spawn items but it drains magic as well. the more valuable/rare the item, the more draining it is. spawning items is already a magic-intensive thing in the first place. also yo-yo isn’t creating the item out of nothing. they’re actually randomly taking it from wherever it already exists in the world. for example, say yo-yo “spawns” a jar of pickles. somebody in the world is going to open their fridge and discover their jar of pickles is missing or maybe a grocery store will have a sudden empty spot on its shelf. yo-yo doesn’t have control of where the items are taken from (or so they claim).

samuel and yo-yo’s magic pools became connected so they can both do more than they could do on their own before. this is one of the reasons why yo-yo wanted a contract with samuel, who has a larger magic pool than normal due to being from another world. but it’s possible for one side to use up all the magic for the both of them. 

*samuel’s personality can be summed up as Awkward People-Pleasing Tired Sad Garbage Dork. either he’s dressed like a grandparent in sweaters and turtlenecks or he’s wearing a button up shirt with the collar undone and jeans. they usually have their neck covered in public to hide the mark of yoba embedded there. he has a “resting bitch face” as some may call, but that’s just because his brain is busy over-analyzing 193828 different things. he loves being outside in the grass and dirt, looking at bugs n shit. he’s also a nerd who likes to play video games and ramble about the lore in them (he likes RPGs the most, but if the game’s got a good story and cool world, he’s into it). they like to do things with their hands like model building/painting. in their new stardew life, they get into woodcarving after willy teaches them the basics (he carves shane a little chicken). 

*samuel does NOT know how to say “no.” absolute pushover. their self-worth is based on how much they’re liked by others, which isn’t healthy obviously. he has a fear that the only way he can be liked is by being useful. he’s scared that he is inherently a bad and selfish person, because he can’t say for sure if he’s helping others purely out of kindness or because it just makes him feel better about existing. deep down there’s anger/frustration that’s accumulated over the years, anger towards himself and also others because he’s always doing things for other people—going above and beyond—but it never feels like enough. at the same time though, they hate it when these thoughts come up because they believe that you shouldn’t go into helping somebody expecting that you’ll get something out of it. he hates how much of a hypocrite he is. he hates how he bases so much of his self-worth on the opinions of others, but feels helpless to it. they usually just push these emotions down because samuel feels guilty about them. how can they be a good person if they’re thinking like this? how can they deserve to exist with this mindset? however they get a chance to let out the anger/bitterness/frustration through fighting monsters. kind of disassociating in a way. this also isn’t a good thing because his demeanor is much colder and scarier during combat. having someone who’s felt powerless for so long suddenly gain power is a dangerous thing.

*this mindset when monster fighting shatters when samuel meets krobus and realizes that monsters aren’t just the simple enemy NPCs their brain had been automatically categorizing them as. guilt galore. he gets real depressed about that for a while but yo-yo, krobus, and shane are there to help him. 

*SPEAKING OF SHANE… it’s crush at first sight for samuel because hot damn is shane their type. i mean just look at him. mamma mia. haha anyyyway, they first meet at the stardrop saloon. samuel’s waiting at the bar for his to-go order near where shane is drinking. shane’s looking sad, so samuel gives in and decides they’ll start a convo to maybe distract him from whatever’s bothering him. samuel employs the “crack a dumb joke to hide the fact that i’m nervous because i’m talking to a hot person and then use that opening to introduce myself” strat. shane, being an asshole, is like, “oh so you’re the new farmer. here’s a tip: don’t bother me.” samuel takes 999 damage and their brain immediately goes “THIS IS MY FAULT I FUCKED UP like who wants to be talked to by a stranger when they’re sad goddammit why am i so bad at this?!!” it’s overall not a great first impression. after that, samuel tries to avoid shane out of embarrassment, but circumstances keep making them run into each other. for instance, samuel works a lot with marnie with her being a mentor figure to him in animal husbandry, so he and shane have a lot of opportunity to interact through that (plus marnie is secretly trying to get them closer to each other). through these meetings and shenanigans, samuel and shane get to know each other better until one day they’re friends. then good friends. then best friends. then kiss friends. then marry friends. :)

YOBA (A.K.A. YO-YO): 

*yo-yo is ????? years old and goes by any pronouns but most of the time it's it/they.

*yo-yo is actually THE yoba, but they’re not the completely benevolent creator-of-all-things humans have made them out to be. maybe they were in the past, but now they’re selfish and rude and swear a lot. but they do still care, even if they don’t admit it (tsundere-ass). yoba is currently stuck in the form of a little junimo and is substantially weakened because it gave too much of itself away to the world in the past and got burned for it. because the world kept taking and taking. and now there’s war and pollution and shit and yoba/yo-yo is maybe just a teensy tiny bit angry and bitter now. but it’s ok because now they got this human from another reality to help them reclaim the pieces of itself. and maybe along the way relearn how to love the world again.  

*oh also yoba didn’t create the whole planet like the creation story claims. they’re technically an alien that came across a young planet full of life and decided to stay and help it develop. 

*main reason yo-yo made a contract with samuel is because it needs help finding/reclaiming the pieces of itself. pieces can usually be found in strong monsters empowered by the piece. this isn’t always the case though. sometimes it’s in an ancient artifact. sometimes it’s in a specific place like a temple. sometimes it’s in a person. 

*samuel doesn’t have to deal with having an existential crisis about yo-yo, since he’s from our world where yoba doesn’t even exist as a god. yo-yo claims to be the one responsible for bringing samuel over into the stardew universe, but there are holes in their story. where did yoba even find the power to do such a thing when they’re in such a weakened state? mysterious. 

*the first time yoba reveals itself to shane is kind of chaotic. it’s in the middle of the night when yo-yo suddenly appears in shane’s room, grabs his face with its little stick arms and yells, “WAKE UP!!! YOUR BOYFRIEND IS IN MORTAL PERIL!!!” shane is like, “WHAT THE F–”     it was an act of desperation on yo-yo’s part, because samuel was in trouble and shane was the only one it could think of going to for help. essentially samuel meets something Bad in the deep mines, something that takes him out of commission and puts him in a trance state while draining his lifeforce. y’know, the classic kind of trance state where you need to figure out how to get the person back–how to snap them out of it. yo-yo tried and failed, so that’s where shane comes in. it’s the classic “love-interest-breaks-main-character-out-of-mind-control-with-sheer-power-of-love” trope. except shane does punch samuel during it. lovingly. in the face. hey it works ok.     after the chaos is over and everyone’s safe and gathered together, samuel and yo-yo explain everything to shane (well more like samuel explains everything while yo-yo wishes outloud that they had their memory erasing powers back). shane, who is canonically an atheist, learns that this talking pottymouthed jerkass apple is actually THE yoba and is just like, “yeah. this might as well happen.” and then he remains atheist because what else are you going to do when you learn that god is a talking pottymouthed jerkass apple who calls you a bitch and is also responsible for your partner having to go do dangerous shit. he and yo-yo have a rocky relationship at first to say the least. but once they both realize how much the other cares about samuel, things get a little better. 

*yeah, yoba may be a bitch and they may be angry and they may be bitter, but they really do care, even if they try to convince themselves otherwise. even though so much got taken from it, it still cares about humans and dwarves and shadow people and everything else on the planet. and when it eventually comes down to it, yoba will step up to protect what it loves, even if it means losing everything again. 

SHANE FINCH: 

*this post was technically supposed to just be about my farmer and yo-yo’s lore and stuff, but i gotta give some personal headcanons i have about shane… like for instance his last name is “finch.” because i thought the bird theme was cute. he’s 29 years old, bi, and half asian, half white (in our world that asian half is korean). i’m not being specific because i don’t know if korea even exists in the stardew world, since all we know in the game is that there’s a “ferngill republic” and a “gotoro empire.” i was thinking of just headcanoning that stardew’s planet is essentially the same as earth. so like most of the same countries/nations exist except the history diverged a bit along the way, leading to the ferngill republic and gotoro empire. OK SORRY for the tangent—back on topic.

*so shane is a trans man who started transitioning back in high school. he had two best friends who were very supportive and really helped him on his journey to figure himself out. those two friends were like family to him. it was good that he had this support because his parents were always pretty shitty and shane transitioning just made them act even shittier. the only good family member of shane’s is marnie, who was supportive, but she lived far away, was busy, AND wasn’t on good terms with her sister (shane’s mom), so shane didn’t get to see her much. 

*the moment shane became a legal adult, he got away from his parents, finding a place with his two best friends and moving in together. oh and his friends’ names were rosa and heath. should’ve probably mentioned that earlier oops.     shane, rosa, and heath go to the same college together, suffer student loans, graduate, etc. haven’t thought of what shane would get a degree in yet—most likely something “generic” because he’s unsure of what he wants to do himself (i feel u bby). 

*ok so rosa and heath were dating since high school, but they were so comfortable with shane and vice versa that things never got that awkward living together. however when rosa and heath got married (“yoba, FINALLY,” shane would say), shane felt like it was time to find his own place, much to the devastation of his bffs. the apartment ended up close to where rosa and heath lived of course—the couple made sure of it (“stop backseating my apartment hunting!” “MAKE US”). 

*rosa and heath get pregnant and have a healthy baby girl that they name jasmine. i headcanon jas as black (from heath’s side) and portuguese (rosa’s side). everyone is thrilled about the baby. shane was immediately offered godfather role and he happily accepted. jas was the cutest baby ever and he adored her. he babysat jas all the time. 

*jas was 4 years old when rosa and heath tragically passed away in a car accident. they were coming home from a business dinner when they lost control of their car on some black ice and slid into oncoming traffic. shane was babysitting jas when he got the call. in the span of one cold winter night, shane and jas’s world shattered. 

*rosa and heath didn’t have any reliable relatives either. those relatives only came to take the money and belongings. shane was the only one jas had, so he adopted her. he tried his best to pick up the pieces. he really did. he lasted for a year trying to raise a kid on his own with the salary of a dead-end job, but he knew the situation wasn’t good with the money and how much his mental health was spiraling. he knew he and jas were in dire need of more support (“jas deserves better than this”). so he turned to the one person he had left to rely on: his aunty marnie. and that’s how shane and jas ended up in pelican town.

*shane’s joja jacket was actually originally rosa’s. rosa worked as an accountant for joja and would get free promotional items all the time from the company. the jacket was one of the only things she actually ended up using because “it’s pretty comfy for being joja bs.” she would wear it all the time, much to her more fashion-conscious husband’s chagrin (yet he would patch up any holes she’d get in it anyway). after rosa died, shane kept her jacket. there were a lot of memories in it. 

~~~

ok that’s it for now. if anyone actually read all that, thank you for even wasting your time to process my ramblings. i’m sorry it’s so fucking long like jfc.

*who is mr. qi?

[fduck0]

Im also gonna put my little ramble here bc its silly (also go follow Catherine)

(Quick thing, i have kind of big problem with putting my thoughts into words so keep that inmind pls)

I wanna talk ab how sacrifice is a really important part of Wendy's character. Abigail is summoned in DS through blood sacrifice, which is now translated into DST with the shadow Abby buff by having Wendy murder mobs to boost her damage. Telling Wigfrid she can "take her heart" when she examines her ghost, implying that Wendy is willing to die to bring her back. Harming herself while trying to revive Abby with the new skilltree altar and by making telltale hearts for spectral cure-alls. Along with sacrificing her whole life by going into the constant just to be with her sister.

(We can also talk ab how Abby does the same, constantly getting herself killed just to keep Wendy safe, which creates a cycle BUT NOT THE TOPIC RN)

This all gives us a pretty good picture of Wendys view the world and on herself. Sacrifice is not only one of the only ways her bond with Abigail stays alive but is also a way to show Wendy's poor self image. She is willing to harm herself both mentally and phisically for the sake of the people close to her. We already know that in her own eyes, Wendy thinks she's worthless , so its not a really big surprise that she'd throw away her life to bring back someone that's "useful" and that actually wants to live.

AND THIS IS WHERE WEBBER COMES IN. The moon stone quote "Perhaps it thirsts for a sacrifice. Where's Webber..." MAY seem like a slap in the face to what i just said ab keeping ppl safe BUT ITS NOT.

From other quotes, its clear that Wendy values her life as much or less then the creatures around her MOST of the time. As much as she kills butterflies, she also wants monsters like bearger to kill her. To Wendy, death is the only present she wants.Cue to conclusion number 1. Webbers sacrifice can be seen as Wendy trying to give Webber the only thing she wants in life, which is dying.

BUT THERES MORE. Human sacrifice is a bit of a mixed bag, since it can either be "i will sacrifice someone dear to me" or "fuck this criminal im gonna send them to hell" depending on the culture. CONSIDERING THE "you could never be a monster, Webber" quote, the general dynamic and context, its clearly the first one thankfully. This leaves us with conclusion number 2. Wendy views Webber as someone dear to her and worth sacrificing.

But now we get into the deep shit bc this is Wendy. And like this is the most headcanon-y one so if this makes no sense idk beat me with sticks ANYWAYS.

We have to remember her fear of attachment. I've already talked in another post about Wendy's nihilism being a defense mechanism and all of that so im not gonna repeat it, (i havent uploaded that thread on tumblr and its 4 am rambles) but i feel like this can also be part of it. Webber represents exactly what shes avoiding, which includes moving on and vulnerability. While Wendy is constantly driving herself crazy over Abigail's death in fear of forgetting her, Webber tries to make the best out of his situation and enjoy his life, even when lets be honest, it also sucks ass. Its the opposites attract trope. BUT I FEEL LIKE IN THIS SITUATION THERES ALSO THE COMPLEXITY OF THAT AVOIDANCE.

In DS this mf considers bandages pointless because "she'll only get hurt again" and says in dst that its "too painful" to get a pet kitcoon because of that fear of losing it. From this we could easily point to the fact Wendy is probably not only scared of losing Webber, but also the fact being around him DOES make her happy. So the solution for that?

3. Sacrifice him. He's too good for the constant, so the least Wendy could do is try to free him from the pain of living, losing him both to try to do him a favour in her eyes, along with keeping herself safe by sticking to her miserable life instead of trying to work on getting better. BUT OOPS CLEARLY YOU CANT DO THAT SOOOO. That and the way dst has progressed their friendship over the years its kind of too late for that by now so L Wendy. BUT YEAH final conclusion, I think Wendy seeing Webber as someone worth sacrificing is sweet in her own insane way.Like that mf would probably die for Webber, kill for him and sacrifice him on an altar.

Gold star to whoever read all of this insanity ig

[mikareo]

“ ࣭⸰ ★ WHEN SPRING COMES . . . ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀呪術廻戦 ; megumi fushiguro x fem reader

⊹ ⠀⠀ your love for megumi can be compared to a snowflake; delicate and beautiful, stunning and unique. however, spring is coming— and eventually, all snowflakes have to melt. (1.2k)

contains; hanahaki au, rejection, angst, implied death author's note; this is 2 years old pls forgive me,, n hanahaki used to be my favorite trope IM SORRY I POST IT SM ajskl

it’s been over a decade, fifteen years really, of the never-ending winter that you’ve grown so accustomed to. the settled snow has been your comfort zone, a weighted blanket tying you down to his presence since primary school, freezing the ribbon that tied your heart to his for eternity— though only now, you realize that ribbon is a chain, shackling you to a hopeless series of unrequited feelings that could never be returned. you’ve imprisoned yourself to an idea of love that never was. love that you viewed as your personal one-of-a kind snowflake between the two of you; something special and passionate with no barriers or boundaries, which softly flurried around you for your entire lives...

...but snowflakes melt when they touch the ground.

the soft powder is nothing but water now; dirtied water on the blood-ridden pavement, speckled with pink petals of a flower that you used to love. the snowflake is dying. it’s dead. and spring has come.

“tilt your head up,” megumi murmurs with the softest, most lovely voice you’ve ever heard. “you’ve still got some on your chin.”

he’s being generous with his words. you know your skin is stained red, dripping with blood and broken leaves that refuse to be wiped away. luckily for you, he tells you that red is his favorite color— that the scarlet shade compliments your complexion and makes you look beautiful— but you know he’s lying.

the deep clots and black chunks would send anyone into a nauseous fit, he’s too kind to you.

you wish he would be horrible. that he’d hurdle insulting comments, awful remarks, and unforgivable curses— but he’d never.

— and you love him for that.

it’s too bad that he doesn’t feel the same.

he never has. 

he never will.

“does that feel alright?” his washcloth is cold and damp. it’s a muddied mahogany after previously being a gorgeous forrest green. “it’s still warm, right?”

you nod, believing that one more lie won’t hurt your already dreadful situation. “i think you’ve got it all,” the reflection before you is one you recognize, a person of the past that you can’t seem to let go of no matter how many hours you spend wishing them away. “thank you, really.”

despite the normal appearance you now display, with rose-tinted cheeks and swollen eyes, there’s a garden growing in the sink. vines slithering their way down the drain as the water stream attempts to rid them from view. torn tulip petals are strewn across the bathroom floor, and in another life perhaps it would have been romantic to see a flower petal pathway leading towards the bedroom— that’s not your life though. you’ve been left with emptiness and a void of feelings with no return. 

“i’m always here to hold your hair back, i hope you know that.” he smiles with kindness, a genuine goodness that can only be portrayed by him. he’s the best person you know. there’s no mystery as to why you fell for him all those years ago, and why that love has followed you through adulthood. “it’s almost pretty…y’know, in a morbid way.”

hm, funny. morbidly beautiful.

“yeah,” you reply in a snap. “maybe they can be my funeral flowers.”

you've made him angry.

“don’t even joke about that, what the hell?” megumi always gets upset when you say those type of things. his vision turns red and he’s blinded by his own sadness that he forgets that he’s the cause— he’s the calamity that uprooted your formally blissful life. he’s the one who fell in love with someone new. 

winter could’ve lasted forever had he not gone to class that day.

it could raged onwards had he not met her.

you could’ve been hand-in-hand dancing beneath the moonlight on a snowy eve if she hadn’t asked for directions to the library. his kisses could’ve been peppering your face rather than hers if only you’d been more fun, more outgoing, more persuasive, more everything, then maybe he would’ve stayed. 

but megumi didn’t stay...

...he left.

he left as the leaves grew on the barren trees and pollen drifted through the breeze. he said his brief goodbyes to your heart while his chased her’s in yearning. he didn’t so much as glance your way as the hanahaki roots planted themselves in your heart— only choosing to show concern after they’d already grown terminal. he disappeared from your point of view before you could even acknowledge his absence— which was and continues to be unfair.

megumi was yours and now he isn’t. it’s as simple as that. as awful and simple as that. 

“we both know i’m dying.” you murmur, hands folded together as if they're the only things you have left to hang onto. you wish one of those hands could find their place in his warm palm, but the black marker ink etched onto his skin in the shapes of mini hearts and smiley faces are more than enough to drive you away. “there’s no point in denying it anymore. i can barely breathe.”

he shakes his head, backing away from you despite your obvious need for physical comfort.

you thought he knew you better than that. you thought he’d know exactly how to ease your pain, but he doesn’t. he’s very clearly not your soulmate, but for some reason your heart tells you otherwise.

“you’d be able to if you’d just get the surgery,” he says. “please.”

he's begging for something he could solve.

megumi's eyes look dark under the overhead light. “please don’t make me have to see you in a casket.”

the surgery in which the roots are removed from your heart is a tricky one. a procedure that many endure and survive, where they get to continue living their lives healthy and happy— though, are they truly living if they’re void of the love that once consumed them?

“i wouldn’t be able to live with myself, you know that.” your voice is firm, after having had this conversation many times before, “i’d know a part of me was missing. you’re too important for me to just…erase.”

if you’re being completely honest with yourself, you’d rather remain in your eternal winter for the rest of your soul’s existence. yes, it’s cold and dreary, with little to no sunlight and hope of a new love or progression in your relationship with him— but it’s familiar. you find it comfortable and there’s no fear in the feelings that you’re already so accustomed to living with everyday. the thought of spring is terrifying. the season following your beloved winter that represents rebirth and new blossoming love is one that you’ll never come to know— which is completely by choice. there’s no point in limping yourself towards spring when there’s no one you’d rather love than megumi. 

these hanahaki tulips won’t see the sunshine they yearn for when the grass regains its color. they’ll simply wither away with you and the lock that refuses to fall, holding your feelings for him in an eternal slumber that will never be woken. 

“i love you.” you say, whilst knowing that that’s the last thing he wants to hear. “i love you so much.”

your confessions of love are a reminder of your little time left, and he hates it.

he wishes it would all stop; but it can’t and it won’t.

perhaps he should’ve given you a chance when the opportunity arose. then you may have been happy. however, he knows that there’s no forcing love.

you’ve been doomed since the moment you’d laid eyes on him. 

love isn't your happiness.

“i’ve only ever loved you.”

it's your demise.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀⠀ ⊹₊｡ reblogs are greatly appreciated! ˚₊⊹