#the thoughts and daydreams i am haunted by every waking moment of my life

[onionninjasstuff]

pb&j duo save me..... pb&j duo. save me pb&j duo

[writingbyella]

i find myself daydreaming about if we had met sooner. if we had built a life instead of building something around a life (that feels more urgent and important than the life itself). the universe has a funny way of doing things but usually she’s right and usually i trust her. but here i can’t help but question why. why wait this long? why collide us at this point, at this moment, in these complexities? i hope it is a kindness. a patience. the bittersweet truth of being too partially cooked until right now. but yet. so many choices could have been derailed if things had happened sooner. and yet, somehow, i think i could tell this was coming soon, and chose it knowing as such. in the mistletoe and birth of a new year, when the road presented me two paths and i could feel everything in a delicate flux, until the certainty of choosing you (but what i did not know then was you) felt clear in my bones. and upon deciding it i could feel the universe shift with purpose. for something that would come i couldn’t quite make out. and thank fuck. if i hadn’t bled then i would not be bleeding now and your face would remain unseen and your voice unheard for possibly ever. then thinking this i am overcome with peace and thrill knowing that at least in this version of events i get those things as frequently as time will allow. and the hands of the clock have never felt so precious as now and i am grateful for every second that enables us to experience the other to literally any degree. but in the night my waking thoughts haunt me: why now? what does this mean is to come?

[d4rling-st4rlet]

Wednesday, August 7th, 2024 [Another Life]

Sometimes, missing you comes crashing down into me like waves. It is not a constant thing, not something that consumes my days, or destroys my soul. It is a feeling that creeps up in the back of my mind. The little voice in my head screaming "Aha! Look at what you can never have again", nagging at me until I can no longer stop myself from falling prey to nostalgia. Some days it catches me cold, takes over me and swallows me whole, sending me into a spiral of desperate sadness, leaving me paralyzed in my bed, praying the tide will turn over. Other days, and frankly, most of them now, I brush it off, reminding myself that this is the best thing that could've happened.

I've been getting better at it. At the start, I felt like I was trapped in a never ending cycle of remembering you. It was awful, every piece of my life had been overtaken by you. I would find you even in places you had never been, seeing the parts of you I loved the most sprawled all over, creating constellations in my mind that made my head spin. The ghost of you haunted me during every waking moment, standing at the very edge of my vision, determined to dampen my days.

Over time it wore off, slowly fading into nothingness, a thought that would sometimes cross my mind. And yet, there are moments where I find myself longing for you. I daydream about getting onstage and performing, screaming my lungs out until my body gives out, just to find you waiting for me side of stage, arms open and a smile that lights up the room. You'd kiss me and we'd walk away, leaving the eager crowd behind to get lost in our little piece of paradise. Sometimes, it comes when I'm lying restless at night, the feeling that my bed is too big, and too cold for me. I turn over and see you sleeping by my side, the way you looked for me even when you were not awake, reaching out and curling your body against mine. I find little things, trinkets, places, facts, that remind me of you, or that I think you'd find entertaining, only to be faced with the reality that I can never show you any of them. I find myself looking for you on the lips of the boys I've screwed lately, missing the feeling of your teeth sinking into my flesh, and the bruising they'd leave like a testament of adoration.

God knows it hasn't been easy. I've trained myself into a perfect machine, capable of taking these thoughts and twisting them into something entirely different. I fight back tooth and nail, to regain the control of my own damn mind. I've learnt my mantras, and keep them tucked with my heart up my sleeve in case I ever feel myself slipping down the rabbit hole. I keep myself busy, pouring my heart into the things that deserve it, trying to make something out of the broken bits that are still left right here. Still, sometimes I am too tired to fight back, to take control, and then the loneliness spreads across my chest, and I end up floating through the memories that cloud my judgement.

Last month, I spent an entire week dreaming of you. Every night wrapped up in a hazy cloud of love, consumed by the unwavering desire for a time before it all went up in flames. It was agonizing, waking up every morning to the reminder of that loss. But I told myself it was just a mishap, something had triggered my brain into revisiting those memories. Most nights the dreams were not even about you, you'd just happen to be there, in the right place, at the right time, looking at me like I was the greatest thing that ever happened to you. You smiled and something in my heart stopped, like it was the very first time I saw you all over again. On one particular night, I was standing in front of a light colored wooden door, I knocked on it and there you were, standing with your hair wet like you had just gotten out of the shower, no shirt, and some shorts, smiling with the smile I thought I'd never get to see again. You wrapped your arms around me and pulled me in close, my lungs filled with the scent of you and I was comforted by the familiar heat of your body. You took my hand and lead me inside, we collapsed on the bed and you brushed my hair out of my face, planting kisses all over it. You leaned in and whispered, your lips brushing softly against my ear. The words were etched into my brain, piercing through the armor I had so carefully crafted around my heart.

"I love you, always have and always will. I want you to be the mother of my children. Meet me again when we're 27."

Then you got up and left, disappearing into the next room over. I don't know if it was the way the words seemed so specific, and so calculated, but I woke up cold and shaky, feeling like the hole in my chest was wide open again, exposing all the things I had tried so hard to conceal. It was a cruel joke honestly, my own brain betraying me, bringing back to life something that has been dead for the past six months.

Most days, I don't miss you at all. I am perfectly happy and content with the way things have turned out. Mostly, I try to forget there was ever anything that between us. I pretend, letting it all, the good and the bad, fade away like it's part of another life. It's like a movie I watched half asleep once, coming back only in flashes I can't quite put together. Most days, I let the waves crash over me, and wash away all that was once ours.

[saiakv]

The animated entrance is parried with a slow blink; Suguru, albeit clearly wide awake in the middle of the night, appears sluggish yet again. There's been a notable lack of rest on both their parts as of late, but Satoru's reverse technique seems to keep him rejuvenated. Or manic. Lately, the younger sorcerer has not been able to tell the difference.

He sits solemn until his friend's shadow is blocking out the moon; and its light casts a beautiful halo on the blessed one when reflecting off of his hair. For anyone who doesn't know him personally, Satoru really does resemble a guardian angel of sorts. Especially next to him, at the state he's in - with his hair a little more disheveled and the eyebags running down all the way to his cheekbone.

When his companion leans closer with that comment on coffee ( rich, coming from the guy whose veins circulate soda ) Suguru's deadpan finally cracks into a candid smile.

❝ Bah, Satoru...❞ Reprimandment delivered sweetly through stiffly curled lips; a fingertip pushes the slipping sunglasses back into the other's face. ❝ You're going to fry your brain. ❞

A pause follows. This is becoming quite the common theme between them as of late. And silence is hardly the issue; it's moreso that now this silence is heavy with unspoken troubles. A part of him knows; he knows it's the discrepancy in power. Eventually it became obvious that where Suguru needed to apply himself laboriously, Satoru achieved the same results by slacking. And he would never catch up to the limitless; but it didn't prompt him to feel jealous. Quite the contrary. He just missed him. The responsibility, the long periods spent apart from each other where once they'd be glued by the hip; it was those things that had driven a wedge between them. But there are still some crevisces in the space between them where Suguru can find solace, that his friend is still alive and well — that he's still here, grounding him to the present.

Soon after they're sat beside each other, he tucks the mp3 player in his pocket and shifts to lay his head in Satoru's lap, cigarette flicked off of the ledge as he lies down on the parapet and looks up -- where unruly tufts of white fly into the star-filled sky. That's one of the good things about rural Tokyo. There's stars here, at least.

Come with me.

Violet eyes snap to meet the other's with an impalpable gasp.

❝ — to America? ❞ A hollow reverberation. His hands lie flat atop his own chest as he falls silent — thoughtful. For once, against all odds, Suguru mulls over it visibly. He faintly recalls the times they would daydream about it before; their first big trip overseas, to eat KFC from the source. A peculiar warmth fills his chest at the reminiscence, prompting him to reach out for the other's hand and play with Satoru's fingers between his own. If only they could go back in time...

But they can't. And if they did, ugly truths would be haunting Suguru's every waking moment still. Once that sense of futility nested in his heart, dreams begun to wither. What am I doing with my life? Who am I doing it for?

❝ ...pft. ❞ He snorts bitterly. ❝ You know the protocol. When you're not here, a special grade has to be deployed in your place. ❞ And that toll falls on Suguru now. If he's not here, the next time there's an oversight from the higherups, it might be Nanami who pays the price. Or another junior in his stead; but one thing is for certain. Their blood will weigh on Suguru's conscience all the same.

❝ — besides... ❞ He continues to rationalize, eyes gliding left to right over the pale fingers in his grip. ❝ ... I have been appointed this curse at some village in the province. It wouldn't be fair to pass on my missions to Kento. Especially not now. He should be allowed to rest. ❞

[anywherebuthere]

I had a dream about you last night || j.p.

James Potter x fem!reader

“Even when you’re gone, you are all that haunts my dreams.”

Wordcount: 1969

A/N: Happy (belated) birthday to the only man ever <33 I am illiterate, so I had a mental breakdown writing this <3 please enjoy!! special thanks to @anchoeritic and @gxtitobxby for supporting me via discord and for making fun of the time I got hit by a car :)) @skullsontess07​ I finally posted it pls don’t hurt me <33

Warnings: alcohol, allusions to sex, death, bad writing, especially towards the end. barely proofread because I don’t believe in mistakes <3 /j

Please do not repost this!! I do not consent to this piece of fiction being published on any other site besides tumblr unless it by my doing.

The ticking of the grandfather clock thrummed in James’ ears as he tipped back the empty bottle, the smell of whiskey heavy in the air. He leaned his head against the cold surface of the white plaster wall, scanning the textured ceiling with misty eyes. His home, still half furnished, was riddled with traces of something better forgotten. Even with the weight of alcohol on his breath, his mind is running with memories and daydreams of her. 

He closed his eyes, forcing the imagery away. In the distance, a train chugged on, its lone whistle echoing in the night, and James can’t help but be pulled into an uneasy slumber, memories still flashing through his mind like a broken film. 

-

“Prongs, you git! We’re going to miss the train if you don’t hurry your fat arse.” Remus shouted, frustration seeping into his humoured voice. 

“Relax Moony, we’ll be fine,” he replied, breath heaving slightly from sprinting across Platform 9¾, just narrowly having avoided knocking over an elderly witch. 

As the four boys approached the entrance of the cart, the train’s departing whistle blared. They boarded quickly, though not without receiving a glare from a crew member.

Hurrying down the corridor, the boys glanced through every compartment window, though each appeared to be full of giggling sixth years. That is, with the exception of one.

Near the back end of the Hogwarts Express, was, at last, an empty compartment save for a singular figure slumped against the window. With no other choice of seating, the gaggle of boys slipped in silently, Sirius and Remus snagging the seats opposite to the slumbering girl, their pinkies linked as they whispered conspiratorially amongst themselves. 

Peter, as adverse to the female race as ever, took the seat closest to the door, leaving James to be wedged between the mousy blonde and the stranger, careful not to bump her with his broad shoulders.

The train ride was filled with hushed whispers as the marauders discussed this year's prank for the welcoming feast, a customary tradition they held sacred, as to “start the year right.” 

As they began going over the mechanisms of their plan, they felt the train begin to swerve as it approached a sharp turn. The compartment shook slightly and James suddenly felt a weight on his right side.

He stiffened, glancing over to see that the girl’s head had lulled over from the compartment wall and onto his shoulder. James recognized her as a student in their year. Y/N, who had tutored Regulus the same day that James had helped Sirius prank him as petty revenge for a now long-forgotten argument. 

And well, perhaps James had wanted her to notice him for once. If so, it had been a successful endeavour as he remembered the way her face had contorted in anger, though her attention had remained just as elusive for the remainder of their fifth year. So… perhaps not so successful.

He flushed at the memory. She was now even prettier than the year prior.

“Oh? Is that a blush we see, Moony?” Sirius taunted, nudging Remus with his elbow as he snickered at James’ scowl.

“Bloody hell, piss off, will you? You’ll wake her–” 

He felt her suddenly stir beside him, brows creasing as though on the cusp of consciousness. 

James held his breath.

The moment passed as Y/N nudged her face further into the crook of his neck before settling back into a peaceful slumber.

Perhaps he wouldn’t need the prank to start the year right this time around. 

-

It seemed that sixth year would be a good one for James. 

In the early morning of a mid-March day, an unlikely scene unfolded between the shelves of Hogwarts’ library. There he sat beside a bleary Y/N, voice still drowsy with sleep as she read aloud a passage from the Herbology textbook perched between them.

Initially, James had detested the thought of having to wake up at such an ungodly hour for the sake of a project. No other time had fit, not with his Quidditch practices and her absurd number of tutoring sessions. 

Though now, as the early rays of sunrise filtered through the library’s mullioned windows onto her skin, James thinks that there is nowhere else he would rather be.

He thinks this moment will be ingrained in his mind forever. 

“–once a century, the Flutterby bush produces flowers able to attract the unwary.” she paused to yawn, eyebags evident as she turned to meet James’ gaze. She scrunched her nose and he swore he swooned at the very sight. “Are you even listening to me, Potter?”

“I’m always listening to you,” he replied, tilting his head. She grins in response and he notices just how beautiful it is. 

She shifted her gaze back to the textbook lying in their laps, picking up where she had left off.

“Its scent adapts–”

James leaned forward suddenly, capturing her lips in his. The book fell closed between them.

Immediately, almost though by instinct, Y/N reciprocates, moving her lips gently against his as her hand cups his cheek. James finds himself gripping that hand as his other wraps around her waist, finding the small of her back and pulling her impossibly close against him.

She tasted of cherry chapstick and peppermint bubblegum, and though there was nothing particularly special about those flavours, on her, James swears that he could drown in his intoxication alone. Her perfume wafts through the air, the scent causing him to groan against her mouth. 

When they separated at last, his head was swimming in euphoria, his expression dazed. Y/N blinked up at him, sleep wiped entirely from her expression.

“Its scent adapts itself during these times to attract said unwary.” she finishes, sounding breathless still, voice trailing off as James began to laugh hysterically.

She rolled her eyes, smiling sheepishly. 

When James still couldn’t stop laughing, Y/N gripped his haphazardly tied red and gold tie, using it to pull his soft lips against hers once more and he was sure in his mind that there would no one else for him.

-

Beneath a great oak tree in the courtyard lay two figures. Under the tree’s twisting branches, they hid in its cool shade from the sweltering afternoon sun. Few places aside from the castle offered shelter from June’s blistering heat and as the semester approached its end, they finally allowed themselves to rest in the gentle breeze. 

James was leaning against the thick trunk while Y/N’s head lay in his lap. His elbow was resting on her abdomen as she drew on his hand, doodling intricate flower designs alongside some… less desirable things.

He felt his heart swell with joy as her laughter filled the summer air and before he could catch himself, he blurted out the thought that had been weighing in the back of his mind since they had started dating.

“Do you ever think about your future?" 

He felt the scratch of her muggle pen slow, as though pausing in thought.

"I want to grow old and die surrounded with people I love, knowing I lived a long and fulfilling life. You know, typical boring stuff," she replied after a moment's consideration. Her eyes twinkled with more, though Y/N never indulged in half-thought-out plans. 

"What about you?" she questioned with the tip of her head. James didn’t need time to think about it. He had known his answer since that fateful September morning when she had slept on his shoulder throughout the entirety of the train ride.

"I don't care what my future is as long as you're there" he answers truthfully.

Y/N flushed, her ears heated. She looked away, the corners of her lips turning up in the barest hint of a smile.

James freed his hand from her loose grasp, hooking her chin to look back towards him before leaning in to kiss her.

Even after all these months, he relished in the taste of her lips. He doubts he’ll ever be able to get enough of the feeling.

He doubts he’ll ever be able to get enough of her.

-

The sun was setting in the west on a quiet evening, its golden rays shining on the slick skin of two lovers as they untangled themselves from the sheets, unable to hold in their laughter when one got his foot stuck in the knot of their crochet blanket. 

The air hung heavy with the scent of sweat and endorphins as Y/N laid back, her body still bare, not bothering to cover it.

James propped his elbow beside her head, careful not to press on her spread-out hair, his face filled with ecstasy and pure bliss. 

He will never get used to the sight of her in his bed, giggling as the sun reflected off her silky skin. The image of her underneath him is cemented in his mind, permanently lodged there as solid as concrete. He knows now with absolute certainty that there would be no one else for him. 

James’ smile widened further as he nudged his nose into the crook of her neck, leaning in to place a kiss there when his vision blurred.

It was no longer sunset. Rather, the two of them were now enveloped in the dark of night and James is certain he hears the echo of a familiar spell ring off in the distance.

He pulls away from Y/N’s neck. 

She was no longer shaking with laughter, but rather, writhing in pain. There were lacerations all across her torso and James felt something sticky underneath his hands.

They were laying in a pool of her blood.

Panic clawed at his throat and though he had never been averse to the sight of blood, yours was an exception. The taste of bile clung to his tongue. 

“No... No no no no no,” he whispered in disbelief. Swivelling his head, outside the window, he spots a cloaked figure wearing a mask of silver disapparate. 

“No!” 

Grasping for the wand strapped to his side, he murmurs a healing spell, gasping for breath when the wounds remain open. His head was spiralling as Y/N shook her head almost imperceptibly, grabbing at his wrist with a shaking hand.

Carved into her arm was the word “MUDBLOOD” and James felt his vision turn red, suddenly hyper-aware of the blood pumping through his veins.

“James…” she rasped. He gripped her shaking hand.

“Why isn’t it working? Why?” he cried, tears streaming down his face, struggling to breathe.

“Whatever our souls are made of,” she gasped, blood spurting out of her mouth. Her beautiful mouth, the one that tasted of cherries and peppermint, was covered in thick, crimson blood. “you and I are connected.” 

“No! Stop with this rubbish, you’re not going to die!” he sobbed, gripping her bloodied hand like a vice. She continued as though he hadn’t even spoken.

Perhaps she was too far gone to hear him.

“Wh-whatever is beyond this life,” violent ruby coated her mouth as she coughed, blood splattering onto her smooth skin. “Promise me, y-you’ll find me again.”

“I promise,” he cried, sobs racking through his body. 

But she was already gone.

-

James woke with a start, gasping for breath with the taste of blood and “promise” still coating his tongue. He was alone in a house built for two.

In his fitful sleep, he had knocked over the empty bottle of whiskey beside him.

She had hated whiskey.

Had. 

A fresh wave of misery washed over James, adding to the dull pain that never seemed to go away, throbbing through him as naturally as the blood in his veins. It wasn’t enough that she existed still within every corner of their shared home.

Even in his dreams, he is haunted by her memory.

ㄧ

@catching-the-train-to-hogwarts

[implexedactions]

Penance is a virtue

Yandere!Enji Todoroki x Reader

Enji Todoroki is many things; kidnapper, lover, sadist, hero, villain, husband. He is many, many things. But he isn’t delusional.

Beta-Read by best person: @absolute-flaming-trash

Warning: Yandere content and themes, Angst, Heavy emotional themes, Suicide, Stockholm syndrome, Kidnapping.

---

You wake up, eyes dashing to the clock.

5:55 AM - SUNDAY

Okay, good, you hadn’t slept in. Enji always wanted you to wake him up. He got...mad if you didn’t. You turn over to him in bed, expecting to find him still sleeping.

Teal eyes stare back at you instead.

“Ah!”

His face takes on a sorrowful expression.

“Did I frighten you? Sorry. I could not sleep.”

Not leaving you time to respond, he pulls you into his chest, under the covers. He sighs in content, and you press into him, not wanting him to forget your devotion.

After some time, he pulls you up to his face, kissing your forehead gently.

“Thank you. For everything.”

“U-uh, what do you mean? Are you okay?”

Enji sighs, failing to meet your gaze.

“I never do compliment you that often...”

---

He carries you to the breakfast table, adorned with pancakes, your favourite.

“What’s going on Enj- I mean, dear. I’m meant to make you breakfast?”

He fails to answer you, instead sitting down with you on his knee. He takes a fork and puts some pancake on it.

“Eat.”

And so you do.

When you finish, he moves to wash up.

“W-what are you doing? You told me that was my job.”

Your memory wanders back to your first few months here, when you disobeyed his every command...and received due punishment for it.

“Are you going to punish me again?”

It escapes your lips before you can stop it. The thought of being punished again, like before, makes your veins cool with fear.  Your breathing increases and you move down on your knees onto the cold kitchen floor.

“P-please, I swear, I’ll do whatever you want, just don’t-”

“Stop.”

He walks over, his thighs the same height as your head. You move to undo his belt, but a hand puts a stop to that.

“There is no punishment. I am just doing an acceptable act for my spouse.”

The words “but you never do that” get stopped in your throat. You instead swallow and try to weakly smile. Looking up at Enji from your position on the ground, sunlight bathing him in a warm glow, to contrast the unsettled expression on his face.

---

He places you on a stool while he washes up. You fiddle with your hands, nervous. This isn’t how Enji usually acts. He’s so...vulnerable. In all honesty, it’s scary.

“Do you like the sunrise, my sweet?”

You look out to the orange glow emanating from the windows.

“Do you want me to like it, my sweet?”

Enji simply sighs and continues washing up.

“I’m sorry you cannot enjoy it. One should always appreciate what they have...”

---

After breakfast, he walks silently to the study. You follow behind him perfectly, like he trained you to.

He walks into the study, sitting down at his writing desk, and you take your place in his lap. He pulls out pen and paper, and you avert your eyes. 

It isn’t for good spouses like you to read.

He spends the better half of 6 hours writing. You entertain yourself by tracing the pattern of the wallpaper. This evolves into focusing on Enji’s breathing, noticing how he breathes in more, not less when he becomes frustrated with something on the page. You eventually move on to thinking about all the things you miss from the outside world, like ice cream, and human connection. You finish out the last hour by thinking about how angry Enji would be if he knew such a perfect little spouse were thinking such nasty little things. 

Shuffling about, he motions for you to hop off his leg, and then stands and leaves the room without speaking to you. You get the feeling he’s coming back, though; he left the door open.

You’re worried. You’re scared beyond belief. This isn’t like him, this entire day is wrong. You’re hoping he’ll burst in and start yelling, the anticipation feels worse than any potential punishment. You consider that maybe this is the punishment and that you should perhaps just start apologising regardless. He didn’t take well to that before though.

This day has made little sense. Enji is acting so far out of his usual behaviour that it doesn’t just scare you because he might hurt you. It scares you because you don’t know what is even happening. It takes you back to the days you first came here—a blurry, hazy mess. You struggle to even remember it. You remember bits and pieces. Chains, fire, the cold, the scent of sex. Small things like that.

You turn your head to the papers on the desk, intrigued by what took up so much of his time. Before you can look away, you see what they are. Letters, addressed to countless people, your parents, Shoto, Rei, Hawks, various news stations.

You glance towards the open door...surely what he doesn’t know won’t hurt him right?

You pick up the letter to the Hawks. 

 Keigo, I write this letter to you as a mentor, and I presume a father figure. I know that in some capacity, you looked up to me. You were just a scared kid, and I helped. That said, if what I have done becomes public knowledge, do not defend me. I do not know how much you know of my dealings, but for the sake of your future, throw me to the dogs. Do not say that I was perfect, or that I did no wrong. When I turn and look at my darling, I see my mistakes for the damning judgments they are. You will be a fine no.1 hero, just let go of your predecessor. Please.

 That alleviated little concern. Undeterred, you move onto the letter to the media.

 To all the news channels and gossip rags that haunt this city like the festering ghouls you are, I detest you. You created division, turned heroics into a popularity contest, seeded doubt during a time where we needed hope, and fought so hard to bring us all to our knees. I know my story will vilify me, so I accept my place in the burning flames of hell. Just know that when you get down there, I will be waiting to enact justice.

 You are practically hyperventilating now. You grab the letter to your parents. You don’t know what these letters are, but they seem like-

The letter is snatched away from your hands. It appears you forgot to watch the door.

Turning around, tears in your eyes, fear in your veins, half-baked excuses running rampant in your mind. You expect to see vengeful Enji with a glint in his eye, telling you it is time for your punishment. Instead, you find an apathetic Enji, eyes soft and watery, stance broken and exhausted.

“I did not want you to see that. I am sorry that you did.”

Enough is enough, you want answers. Pushing against your instincts, you stammer out a question.

“W-What is going on? Why...why are you like this?”

He seems taken aback, eyes opening wide. This minor act of defiance, of speaking out when not spoken to, is enough to break you. Falling to your knees, you look away from him. Aghast that you even thought of defying his wishes.

“I’m sorry! Please, forgive me! I didn’t mean to question you like that! Or read the letters! Please! I didn’t- I don’t-”

A calloused hand grips your shoulder.

“Please. Stop.”

You look up to see Enji’s eyes, dull and watery again.

“Sorry.”

“Trust me, I am sorry too.”

---

The afternoon is spent on the couch, watching TV in Enji’s lap. He seems to notice your nervous disposition, as he slowly envelopes you in a hug the more the hours go by. Eventually, he gets up to make dinner by himself, much to your unvoiced dismay.

You simply stare as he makes it. Both of you silent. He occasionally looks over to you, as if to make sure you haven’t merely vanished into the ether. You feel like you might vanish into the ether, honestly.

You move to the dining table, and a couple of minutes later, he brings out dinner. Silent, he sits down beside you, but a hand stops you from eating.

“Tell me, do you remember when we first met?” he sounds...hopeful.

“Is...Is this a trap?” you ask cautiously. This entire day has put you on edge.

“No. Quite the opposite, in fact.”

“I...I can’t remember it, really. Most of those months are...blank, I remember a few pieces of my first couple of months here. They’re admittedly not pleasant memories.”

“I see.”

“I mean, I appreciate that you did those...things you did to me! If you hadn’t, I wouldn’t be any good at my job.”

He turns to you and raises an eyebrow.

“Your job?”

“Yeah, loving you, being your spouse.”

“Ah.”

Both of you go quiet. You wait on the signal to start eating. It doesn’t come.

“It was a gala event. You told me how much you hated them, and I laughed and agreed.”

“Ah. Gala’s sound so wonderful, don’t they though? Being outside, getting to dance, to listen to beautiful music.~”

You sway slightly thinking that you could have once been permitted to be a part of such a magical event.

“You may eat now.”

Enji’s command breaks you out of your daydream. He watches as you take your first bite, and follows in kind.

---

When you finish, he seems restless. He gets the plates and puts them in the sink. He then takes you to the living room. He fiddles with a speaker for a couple of seconds, before classical music emerges.

“You said you cannot remember our first meeting, and by extension our first dance. I was wondering, would you like to dance with me?”

Confused, but delighted, you join Enji in the embrace. Softly dancing around the living room, you try to imagine what it was like meeting Enji for the first time. He must’ve seemed so sweet, right? That’s how Enji would come off to a stranger, right?

You lose yourself in the moment, allowing yourself to imagine a life outside of these walls. You would’ve met Enji at the Gala. He would’ve laughed. He would’ve given you his number, the gentlemen that he was. He would’ve taken you to a fancy restaurant for your 1st date. You could’ve shown up at his agency while he was buried under paperwork once, and it would’ve made his day. You could’ve kissed him under the rain, snickering as you pulled away and saw droplets evaporate on contact with his blushing face. He would’ve proposed in a quiet place, with a brilliant ruby. You would’ve met Shoto, and figured out what his deal was. You would’ve grown old together.

But this life is just as beautiful, right?

Enji leans down during the dance and kisses you. Softly, unlike all those times before. It’s beautiful to you. And based on the silent tears running down his face, it’s beautiful to him too.

He pulls you down onto the couch, staring into your eyes as the soft music plays.

“I’m sorry, my love.”

“What for?”

“For a lot of things. For kidnapping you. For...training you. For punishing you. For breaking you, beyond belief. For so many, many different things. You are not the person I fell in love with, you are hardly a person. I broke you, I gutted your personality until all that was left was a shell, echoing any command I gave it. You do not have a soul anymore.”

He pauses, seemingly debating over this next part, ignoring your shaky and scared reassurances.

“And I am also sorry for the poison in our food tonight.”

Your world shatters at that.

“The fatal effects should kick in soon enough. It will not be a nasty death. Even in death, I intend to remain dignified. Or at least, I wish to preserve your beauty.”

You cannot vocalise anything, your mind is failing you. From either the poison or situation, you are unclear.

“There is an antidote on the kitchen counter. If you can get there and drink it, you will live. And if you are feeling ever so generous, you may even give some to me.”

He turns and looks you in the eyes.

“My only command is that you do not get that antidote.”

“Wh-what?”

“You heard me. Disobey me, and save yourself. Or obey me, and die.”

He shrugs.

“I did say I was sorry.”

“I-I...why?”

“Like I said. You are a shell. If you get the antidote, maybe I have not entirely broken you, maybe you can still be saved from my conditioning. If you do not get the antidote, I get to make Dabi just that little bit happier.”

You try to get up and into the kitchen. You really try. Your arms try to push up. You try to move off the couch. But...that feeling of fire licking at your body...it’s paralysing.

You instead collapse back onto the couch, and Enji sighs.

“Can you hold me?”

“Sure, my sweet.”

His arms pull you into his body. You feel yourself getting more and more tired.

“I’m sorry...I couldn’t be...what you wanted...”

“I am sorry I could not be what you wanted either...”

[strawberry--bride]

DIABOLIK LOVERS Haunted Dark Bridal ー Sharon’s Route [MANIAC PROLOGUE]

*FLASHBACK STARTS*

Monologue

Every happy story has to one day come to an end.

In my case, it all happened on a stormy evening.

I paced back and forth impatiently by the front door.

Waiting for the doorbell to ring. 

However, when it did, it wasn’t my parents standing at the other side.

Instead, I was greeted by a police officer,

wearing a nervous smile on his face.

Location: Nozomi’s house ;;  Entrance hall

Nozomi: ...

Police officer: Miss Takeshita Nozomi?

Nozomi: ...W-Where are mommy and daddy? They told me I shouldn’t talk to strangers.

Police officer: My name is officer Yamada. I’m from the local police department. 

Nozomi: The police...?

Police officer: I am terribly sorry to have to deliver you this news but your parents had an accident. They lost control of their car and drove straight into a tree.

Nozomi: Eh...?

( Accident? Mommy and daddy? B-But...! )

Police officer: ーー Both of them died instantly.

Nozomi: ...!!

Uu...

Police officer: I fully understand this must come as a shock to you. We tried to get in touch with your relatives, but almost none of them answered our calls.

Nozomi: ...

Police officer: When we finally got in touch with one of your aunts, she told us your parents broke up with the rest of the family after a dispute.

Nozomi: I-I don’t know...Mommy and daddy never talked about other family...

Police officer: ...Well, the thing is, with nobody else to take you in, we will have to transfer you to the local orphanage instead.

Nozomi: Or...phanage?

Police officer: It’s a very nice place, don’t worry! There will be people there to look after you. Look at it as a new home.

Nozomi: I-I don’t want a new home! I like it here! 

Police officer: ...We understand. However, you are simply too young to live by yourself.

Nozomi: Noー!!

She slams the door shut and covers her ears.

*Thud*

Nozomi: ( This can’t be happening...It’s all just a bad dream...When I wake up again, everything will be back to normal.

( Mommy and daddy will be here and all of us can live happily together like we’ve done so far! )

Monologue

Unfortunately, it was no dream.

But a harsh reality crashing down on my 6-year old self.

The next day, 

I could no longer escape my fate,

as the police brought me to the local orphanage. 

The orphanage worked closely together with the city’s Church,

taking in children who had either lost their parents,

or lived under inhumane circumstances.

The caretakers did everything within their power,

to make us feel loved and cared for. 

At the end of every week, 

young couples would come and visit to look at the children.

If they took a liking to you, the adoption procedure could start.

All of us would line up like dolls stalled out in a shopping window,

while the soon-to-be parents could pick and choose. 

It was every child’s wish to find a new home. 

Yet, I dreaded these moments more than anything.

Location: Orphanage ;;  Meeting room

Woman A: What is your name, little girl?

Nozomi: Nozoーー

Caretaker: Ahem.

Nozomi: ...It’s Sharon, ma’am.

Woman A: Oh my, you seem very well-mannered. Don’t you think so too, dear?

Man A: Definitely. 

Sharon: Thank you very much.

Man A: Howeverーー

Sharon: ...

Man A: Say, Honey...

Woman A: Hm?

The couple starts whispering.

Man A: Don’t you think the girl with the blue eyes over there is much cuter?

Woman A: Hmー Right. Now that you mention it, this girl does seem a little plain.

Sharon: ( ...I wonder if they realize I can hear them. )

Woman A: We would like to see some of the other children first before making our decision.

Caretaker: Most certainly. Please follow me.

Sharon: ( It’s always like this... )

*TIMESKIP*

Woman B: What a cutie you are! Say, do you play any sports? Or an instrument, perhaps?

Sharon: Eh? I...

Caretaker: Oh! If you’re looking for an athletic child, the boy in the back is a natural at soccer. 

Furthemore, the girl with the ponytail can play the piano even though she’s only four years old!

Man B: Really? Could you introduce them to us?

Caretaker: Gladly!

The couple is escorted away.

Sharon: ...

Monologue

All of the other children,

who arrived shortly before or after I did, 

had long been adopted. 

New children would come and go,

yet I found myself standing there again, week after week. 

There was always that one kid,

who was cuter, smarter or more skilled. 

As I grew older and bigger,

my odds of being adopted only decreased further. 

I would often find myself wondering.

‘Is there really nothing I have going for me?’

Until one day,

I finally found my purposeーー

Location: Orphanage ;;  Kitchen

Caretaker A: Thank you so much for always helping out, Sharon-chan!

Caretaker C: Exactly! It has lifted so much pressure off our shoulders!

Caretaker A: The little ones love you as well. 

I’m sure you would one day make for a great caretaker yourself!

Sharon: Ehehe...~ Geez, you guys praise me too much. I’m only helping out where I can.

Caretaker C: Oh no, that’s not true! You must have a talent for looking after others!

Sharon: ( A talent... )

...Thank you.

Caretaker A: Oh! Look at the time! We should get started on preparing dinner!

Sharon: ( I...I’m not utterly useless after all! )

( By helping others, I have a purpose in life! )

Monologue

That moment must have been the happiest I felt,

since the day my parents passed away.

I began to help out even more frequently,

dedicating my whole life to the orphanage. 

l had recently started high school,

and I realized that the orphanage would most likely be my home,

until I graduated and could go live on my own.

My past self could have never fathomed,

I would eventually find a new home.

ーー One housing six Vampire brothers. 

*FLASHBACK ENDS*

Location: Sakamaki Manor ;; Kitchen

Sharon: ( ...I still have to apologize to Shuu-san for what happened the other day. )

( Even if he was in the wrong as well, I went too far. )

Haah...I’m not usually the kind of person who lets their emotions get the best of them. 

I suppose living with six Vampires who could latch onto you at any given second has been taking its toll on me.

( Still...I can’t forget about that look in his eyes. )

( His expression was disinterested as per usual, but for just a split second, I swear I saw a glint of sadness. )

( Perhaps Shuu-san has lost someone dear to him as well...? )

???: Oiー

Sharon: ...!!

She turns around in surprise.

Sharon: S-Shuu-san.

( When you speak of the Devil... )

Shuu: Now I’m no master chef, but I’m pretty sure it’s not a very smart idea to daydream while cooking. 

...I could smell something burning all the way over in the hallway.

Sharon: A-Ah...! My pancakes! 

She rushes to save them, accidentally brushing her hand against the hot pan.

Sharon: ーー Ow!!

Shuu: ...!

Sharon: D-Don’t worry! It’s just a small burn!

Shuu: Oi, put your hand under cold water.

Sharon: Eh?

Shuu: Hurry!

Sharon: ( What’s wrong...? I’ve never seen Shuu-san this frantic before... )

D-Don’t worry...It’s nothing serious, see? The skin’s just a little red.

Shuu: Tsk...Just do as I say.

He grabs hold of her wrist, guiding her towards the sink to cool her skin. 

*Pshhhhh*

Sharon: ...

Shuu: ...What? It’s rude to stare at someone.

Sharon: Ah...S-Sorry! I’m just a little surprised. 

I thought you’d make fun of me for burning myself on a hot pan like that.

Shuu: Well, I certainly can’t praise you for it.

Sharon: Ahaha...

Shuu: Hm? 

Shuu leans in close.

*Rustle*

Sharon: ...E-Eh!?

Shuu: You..

Sharon: ( H-He’s way too close...! )

Shuu: Heeh. You greedy woman.

Sharon: Eh?

Shuu: Subaru sucked your blood, didn’t he?

Sharon: Howー!?

Shuu: I can tell by the scent. ...Heh. I guess having one Vampire bite you wasn’t enough, huh?

Sharon: W-Wait...! I didn’t ask either of you to bite me!

Shuu: Is that so? Despite saying that, you didn’t seem to dislike it that much.

I could tell by the taste of your blood.

Sharon: ...!!

Shuu: See? You can’t even deny it.

Sharon: ( Uu... )

Shuu: Well, you should probably consider yourself lucky. You’re living with six Vampires, so I’m sure you can find at least someone to fulfill your desires.

Sharon: ...

Shuu: However, if you want me to bite you, you’re gonna have to do the work. 

Sharon: I-I don’t!

Shuu: Heeh? We’ll see about that.

Sharon: ( He’s definitely just teasing me right now...! )

Shuu: ...Anyway, you better wrap a bandage around that hand later.

Sharon: Ah, right. It already feels a lot better though!

Thank you for the first aid~

Shuu: I’m going back to my room to nap now. ...See you.

ーー Unless you’re willingly offering to be my pillow today?

Sharon: I-I’ll pass...!

Shuu: Haha. Right.

Shuu leaves the kitchen.

Sharon: Geez...For someone who’d consider breathing to be ‘a chore’, he sure has a lot of energy when it comes to teasing others...

Location: Sakamaki manor ;; Hallway

Shuu: Haah...What am I doing? 

...

Even though I told myself I wouldn’t get involved with humans again...

He walks away.

ーー MANIAC PROLOGUE: END ーー

<- [ Dark Epilogue ] [ Maniac 01 ] ->

[stopeatingwhales]

about a girl (pt.2) x kurt cobain

hi guys :) so sorry for my inactivity, but i’m here finally lmaoo, this is a part two to my kurt fic that i wrote about a month ago, due to school its been much harder for me to keep up writing as usual, but i will absolutely try my best to finish your guys’ requests soon! anyways, hope you enjoy this <3 Pairing: pre-bleach era kurt x reader

Warnings: nothing :)

Word count: 2.167

Requested by anon (the second part was my idea, but i felt like i should still credit the anon for giving me the idea for this x) 

༉‧₊˚✧

The wind exhales short, breezy waves as you lay there, engulfed in your dreams. From the night succeeding to your outstanding performance, you were requited to a favourable hibernation which by admiring you, was needed for not only the sum of a few hours. Your solemn features are painted still, the only movement stimulating from your body is heavy breaths accompanied by a light snore from time to time. I question whether it's righteous of me to allow my eyes to adorn themselves in your serene features, yet I simply cannot stop myself. I find it surreal to witness you in such fragility; for all the pain and sorrow you’ve had to experience in your life, it’s almost like you shouldn’t be sleeping in such a tranquillic state. I wonder if you prefer sleeping than being awake, I wonder if you think it’s a chore to get out of bed. Does the world haunt you? Every click, flash, snap of a camera, does it devastate you? The image you portray to the world is magnificent, yet flawed. It’s almost as if you’re hiding something, yet you don’t care what others think of you, so you do whatever you please. My heart skips a beat every time you shift slightly, cradling your body in the duvet. I advert my stare to your arms, sculpted perfectly in God’s chamber, the lankiness of your bones withering an appearance of discrepancy. You’re not like the rest of them. Your steady breaths softly ease in and out of your flawless torso, your hair so impeccable it looks untouched even when you’re shifting around in your slumber - the hair you willingly dyed and strained with a flavoured drink mix. As I admire you, sleeping beauty, it reminds me of how lucky I am to have you in my life - regardless of where we stand. When you’re awake, you’re the only thing keeping me sane during the day; spending even just a day without you would feel as if I had lost my legs, lost what’s kept me steady for all these draining years. In all my time of knowing and understanding you, have you never not known what to say, for you have such a way with words, it's unfathomable. You carry a sort of intelligence that no one can seem to obtain; you speak words out of a bible and it’s ironic I say that, Mr ‘God is gay’, but it’s true. You’re the reason I wake up in the morning. You’re like a hard candy, sweet and delicate, although the texture is very hard making it a burden to get through to you. I want to taste you on my tongue every morning, if you would like me to be honest. I crave for things as little as your scent even before I’ve risen from the cushion. Your grace must be envied by the heavens; there is and will never be anyone as alluring as you, not that I’m surprised. 

As my eyes continue to wander on him, a sudden stretch of his arms and a small groan echoing out of his vocal chords results in my body almost instantaneously sitting up. I watch him as he blinks his eyes a few times, his vision still not clear enough. “Good morning,” he whispers, his arms thrown to the skies; he’s like a baby, reaching out for their mother in the early hours of daylight, moaning and whining for affection, warming my heart with soreful ease. Quickly taking note of the small clock situated beside him that I was aware of for the many hours I had been trapped in thought, it read a bright and early 11am. My stare continues to linger onto him as I watch him shifting around, the heart situated in my upper chest now beating as fast as drum solos in heavy metal songs. A short silence stood in between both presences; I assume that he hadn’t taken note of my pondering state adjacent to him, though was that idea contradicted by his light greeting. “Did you sleep well?” he chirps, now using both palms to rub his what-seemed-like itchy eyes.

Now what is humorous from this scenario is that he asks this as if it means nothing; a simple conversation starter it may be, though, to me it means so much more hearing those light words roll off his tongue, compared to if someone else had said it, even if it was in the exact same moment living right now. A whiff of bad breath hits my face as I laugh lightly, shaking my head in a sort of admiration towards the man lying down ahead of me. He again blinks a few times, now in attempt to adjust the bright scenery to his view. For a couple seconds the room is frozen, Kurt’s alteration in position to sitting up becoming the only sound ringing through both our ears. As I find my gaze glued onto him once again, I subconsciously repeat the question he asked me, this time directed for him. However, from what I’ve seen, I’m certain he slept wonderfully.

A tired chuckle escaped his mouth. “I asked you first,” he mutters, the morning rasp still prominent in his vocal chords. This makes me smile. The raw, genuinity forwards the idea of realism that this moment was actually happening, coming like a pinch snapping someone out of their daydream, though my thoughts will never be known to understand how I was able to spend time with such a man. “I slept well, though.” he adds, a warm smile playing on his lips. 

“I couldn’t sleep,” I answered, my face now being cradled by my palms. 

I now feel the stare of Kurt burn onto my face. “Why didn’t you wake me up?” he asks, a hint of annoyance laced in his words. “We could’ve stayed up together,” 

A small chuckle breezes out of my nose. How considerate, how caring must you be to, even when you have performed such an exasperating gig, stay awake with me because of one night of my mind’s continuous ambles? For all I know, Kurt wouldn’t sleep for days if it meant I would be in absolute glee. It’s those sorts of traits in those who are lost which draw you towards them becoming the significant other to stay with for life. It’s that sense of attachment, connection you hold with someone, so strong that you would give up the roof over your head if it meant a smile to be drawn on their face. ”You looked so peaceful in your sleep,” I replied, staring directly into his loveable eyes, the shade of blue brightening as the sunlight melted onto his face. His hair was now a little more messier compared to how it was less than ten minutes ago, and the urge of me running my fingers through his golden locks only seemed to grow even more as time passed on. For a moment I decided to hold back my words, inhaling sharply to gain composure to my fatigued state. “I didn’t want to disturb you,” 

Kurt sighed - knowing that he needed sleep more than anything, though a hint of sadness dwindled in his stomach, his mind conflicted from the idea of me drowning in worry as I tended to do when I couldn’t sleep. Reaching his arm towards the table sat beside him, his fingers got lost in between the opened packet of cigarettes that slept reverently on the white wood, grabbing a random one at choice before placing it in a loose grip between his lips. With the known information that you need a torch to light a cigarette, I threw the one I had on his lap, a small laugh escaping my lips for no apparent reason. Actually no, there was a reason. “Who the fuck smokes first thing in the morning?”

Before he torched the lighter, he stopped, his piercing blue eyes locking in contact with mine. “Me, I do,” 

Another laugh tempted to flee itself from my throat, yet I held it back. If you would’ve said that to me the first night I met you, in that small, cramped room, littered with amps that Krist had dragged me into going in to listen to your material, I would’ve scoffed at your blown attitude towards such a random question. Watching you now as you’re admiring the cancer stick with pure attachment, my mind begins to wander over such a topic. I look at you and see a troubled, young kid who just wants love and affection because he seemingly never got enough from the people who designed his childhood; for you haven’t grown up since then. Perhaps in size and features, yes (and definitely the fact that children do not smoke), but hidden inside you is the same boy that was hidden away all those years ago - following onto your parents’ divorce. You say you’ve never been happy since then, you’ve never been able to think optimistically, and maybe you haven’t. Maybe the smile you give to me isn’t genuine; with continuous assurance I’ll consider it to be. Maybe I’ll never heal those bruises that were once your only source of living, and that’s okay, if you’re able to cope with the imprints. If you’re the Kurt Cobain that prefers smoking than having a normal breakfast, so be it; I’d give up my heart for you, and if anything, you’ve already stolen it. Words merely brush the surface of my adoration for you, and sometimes I believe that I’m just lying to myself, that nothing I’m saying in my head is true. Yet, as every minute, every second passes throughout the day, even in silent, contented situations with ceilings bright as yellow from the smoke like these, everything I say to myself simply strengthens in morality. My sweet, you deserve more than one could wish for. You deserve things that this world cannot give you, yet all you believe is that you are worthless. If only you saw yourself in my eyes, maybe then you’d realise, realise the impact you’ve sincerely doused onto me and my mind, you’ve got the moves to empower a generation and perhaps hundreds more - even if you don’t see that yet. 

“Give me one,” He hands me one, the strong gusts of cloud escaping his mouth creating a want for the rough substance to coat my throat in brutal ways; even if it’s slowly murdering me. It was a murderous addiction, nicotine, yet it kills us all, our addictions; and we are too blinded by the goodness it seemingly overshadows what we force to neglect in our minds - the bad in it all. We become so unbelievably enthralled by the pain we choose to accept it; we believe it is favourable, not disastrous and catastrophic. Drugs are frowned upon dearly, as they should be, but once you’re stuck, it takes more than simple courage to escape out of the deadly grip it chokes you in. Placing the cigarette in between my lips, identical to how he had just done, I reached my arm out to obtain the lighter that was in my clutch merely seconds ago, swiftly lighting it with one hand. As I breathed out the first tar-filled cloud from my cigar, I fixed my gaze onto him once again, sucking in my top lip as I allowed the droplets of ash fall onto my shirt. “I know I always say this,” I began as I studied his features, trying to identify any solemn, unpleasant emotions, noticing that there was none at all for the time being. “You’re going to make it big one day, I’m now for certain you’re going to take over the world,”

His eyes now locked into mine, a short chuckle leaving his throat as he blew out an even bigger gust of smoke. “I don’t want that,” 

Smiling, I took hold of my cigarette and inhaled deeply, holding it in my mouth until my body was unable to carry on without oxygen for longer - not that the air in the room was even oxygen; it was more corrosive chemicals than anything else, yet we’ve become so dependant on a small roll of tobacco to guide us to a path of slow death, its unnoticable. I watched as Kurt’s eyes drifted on to admire the elusive sunlight gleaming through the window, the whiffs of grey contrasting the happiness that was attempting to journey itself into the silent room. No matter how many times I may tell, his belief that he will never be as big as acts like the Sex Pistols will empower over anything I endevour on to phrase. It was inevitable though, whether he dreamt of it or not, that they will be big, bigger than anything they’ve ever seen. The path bridging onto it may cause destruction, heartbreak, and even more addiction, but the future is never in our hands - only until it is close enough for the present to capture it. Time is simply a mantelpiece, the light eventually burns out when there’s not enough coal to keep it going. You continue to refill it as the days go by until you simply cannot any longer, which is what all youths fear and avoid. Surprisingly enough, Kurt wasn’t one of the many crowds in devastating apprehension; he wanted to burn out more than anything else, for there were only small things keeping him going, or perhaps he was waiting for a longer, more agonizing death, hence the many packets of cigarettes vanished in a day.

There was nothing left to say in the room; there was no need for a response - it was only going to result in the same bicker as it resulted in many a time. The room, now physically undergoing a change in colour from the smoke, held a significant ambience, one so serene it left you more relaxed than the aftermath of a crazy high in drug use, though sometimes the relaxation is more pain than anything else. Even when my mind was so consumed in ideation earlier in the morning, my thoughts were louder than ever in this given moment. My mind was mulled over the concept of Kurt and stardom. He would never like it, nor does he even want it. It’s humorous to an extent; how much authenticity can one acclaim, to not even look up to the sugar-coated concept called ‘fame’? You’re not like the others. You don’t want fame, you want to create music. And in all honesty, I wish I lie through my teeth whenever I mumble those encouraging words of how you’re going to make it big; I can’t stand the idea of losing you, but like I said, it's inevitable, one day simple moments like these will just be memories to look back on when you’re old and laughing about your previous attachment to drugs. Maybe you won’t look back on times like these however, maybe you’ll remember the more vivid, buzzing moments like your first gig as Nirvana, and maybe I won’t remember this either, maybe these moments aren’t to be remembered, to be lived in instead. If only you knew how much I loved you, would you be surprised that I haven’t ruined my life because of it. You mean more to me than the stars mean to the night sky, more than a memory means to a person’s mind. It hurts my heart knowing I can’t heal you, though I dream that one day, you’ll wake up, just like you did today, turn to me and say, ‘I’m happy,’ because that’s all I ever dream of you to be.

[cassyapper]

Apart from Jotaro and Kakyoin (unfortunately) what are your other favourite jojo ships? I’d love to know

OHHHH POST YOUVE OPENED A CAN OF FUCKING WORMS LET ME GO OFF

i have a disease that makes me invested in the joestars’ happiness to an absurd level so bc of that a lot of ships i enjoy involve,,,one joestar,,,but there r others i swear let me just start rantingi

jonaeriwagon is soooooo so so cute it involves the most wholesome and purehearted jojo characters and it makes me smile so wide. erina and jonathan r childhood sweethearts and erina helped jonathan back on his feet after he lost EVERYTHING in the first fight against dio at the mansion. jonathan and speedwagon are best FRIENDS OKAY!! SPEEDWAGON LITERALLY CHANGES HIS ENTIRE WALK OF LIFE BECAUSE OF JONATHAN AND THE KINDNESS HE SHOWED HIM. i know erina and speedwagon didn't interact a whole lot in part 1 but like they're BEST. FRIENDS. in part 2, so much so joseph thought something was going on between them. i bring this up bc then it’s proof that this ship is full of ppl who just care for each other so much. they just adore each other and love each other and I'm crying

caejoseq is my FAVVV OKAY they're so stupid and in love. i love love love love imagining caesar and suziq falling in love slowly when he’s first training as lisalisa’s student and like they never do anything about it cause they're both so shy (yes caesar is shy bc these feelings r more genuine romance rather than sexual, unlike his other flings) but it’s obvious enough they both understand to a degree the other knows they like them sjkd;dn cuties. but then JOSEPH BARGES IN with his stupid hamon-breathing mask and his stupid blue-green eyes and his stupid lax personality combined with the moments he takes thing seriously during which is works hard as fuck/smart as fuck. he just completely sweeps them off their feet they had no fuckin warning whatsoever. so after a bunch of messy and intense pining from the both of them they eventually sit down and are like okay. we should do smth about feelings actually. so they Do and it ends with the polycule and I'm (”: smiling so wide they loved each other do u understand

AVPOL!! DO NOT GET ME STARTED OKAY it’s the survivor’s guilt and cherishing and longing for me sis!!!!!! I'm just saying both have pasts (araki said avdol’s backstory was so sad he didn't wanna put it into sdc so that’s where I'm drawing this from) that leave them focused on things other than their direct happiness/their own futures but then they connect and even though they're so fucking different they are SOOO different they're still the same on this level and i think!!! that would be everything for them finally someone who understands...listen I'm ging to go insane do you hear me. avdol loves this stupid fucking Frenchman so much because said stupid fucking Frenchman just cares so much about everything. meanwhile polnareff is in love with this fuckin god of a man who’s patient and kind and funny and a skilled enough fighter it’s stated explicitly in canon “oh avdol’s the one we need to worry about most not jotaro” like fuck polnareff is ENAMOURED WITH HIM!! AND I DONT FUCKING BLAME HIM!! and just dude. when pol thinks avdol came back to life and he starts crying tears of joy and hugs him so tightly and avdol just laughs but hugs him back imfmfjfj help. help. help. help. help. POLNAREFF LITERALLY ASKS HIM OUT ON A DATE THIS IS FUCKIN!!! CANON!!! i cant do this stupid fuckign idiots i love them

JOSUYASU!!!!!! TWO GUYS BEIGN DUDES WHAT MORE COULD YOU WANT??? like listen we have such a SLEW of wholesome moments between these two the opening to the tonio episode is literally just them going on a date OKUYASU WAS GONNA FEED JOSUKE AND JOSUKE DIDNT EVEN FUCKING QUESTION IT OKAY THAT’S KINDA GAY THAT HAS ROMANTIC FUCKING UNDERTONES!! and them fighting against shigechi idk man i just love their dynamic it’s such a pleasant bro relationship and i love them. but even beyond the wholesome moments when okuyasu fucking dies josuke loses his SHIT!!! DO YOU HEAR ME HE GOES FUCKIGN INSANE!!!!! HE’S SCREAMING AND CRYING AND BEGGING OKUYASU TO WAKE UP AT THE EXPENSE OF HIS LIFE FUCKIGN HAYATO HAD TO SHRIEK AT HIM TO MOVE HIS ASS OUT OF THE WAY OF KIRA’S BOMB LIKE!! listen the recklessness and furiousness of josuke’s tactics after okuyasu “”died”” haunts me. he didn't want to live in a world without him and meanwhile okuyaus LITERALLY TRIUMPHS OVER DEATH BECAUSE HE DOESNT WANT TO LEAVE JOSUKE’S SIDE HELP ME GIRL FJKF;NDJN FUCK. fuck. so yeah i lvoe them

fugionara... any combination of this ship makes me go nuts okay okay. the dynamics in the bucci gang will forever leave me in tatters but THE ONES BETWEEN THESE THREE IN PARTICULAR. FUCK ME UP. it’s the healing it’s the animosity it’s the regret it’s the trying to figure out your own mentally ill self while also the world ur in with these ppl u love so much and I'm going crazy okay okay okay. idk how to quite put my feelings for them in worlds i just have a lot of them and they are fuckin. overhwelming. just narancia for example meant EVERYTHING to fugo as evidence by purple haze feedback (literally every other paragraph is a flashback) and the only time giorno cries in the anime is when narancia dies. meanwhile fugo saved narancia’s life and giorno knew when to take narancia seriously as opposed to a joke. and then THE WHOLE DISCUSSION ABOUT GRIEF FUGO AND GIORNO HAVE IN PURPLE HAZE FEEDBACK? listen something about these three make me go insane and feral

foolymes like okay. okay. I'm shaking like a dog trying not to go overboard on this justification just listen to me. hermes and jolyne first find someone to trust in prison in each other. jolyne cares abt her enough that she first learns how to use stone free’s string-on-a-telephone ability bc she wanted to watch over hermes. hermes loves nd respects jolyne that after she wakes up from getting a stand shes like “hm. wonder where jolyne is” and goes to find her before all that bullshit happened just hey okay LISTEN TO ME!! and then they get foo they save her it’s just like fucking kakyoin they give her another chance and they show her what relationships are supposed to be like (fulfilling) they enjoy her company and make her laugh and she makes them laugh in return ohmy god EVERYTHING FOO FIGHTERS DID WAS FOR JOLYNE AND HERMES DO YOU UNDERSTAND ME!!! the marilyn mansion debt collector arc. the kiss of love and revenge arc. foo fighter’s death. I'm going to eat rocks in an attempt to stop feeling oh my god JOLYNE DIDNT EVEN BELEIVE FOO FIGHTERS WAS DYING AND THEN SHE GOT HYSTERICAL LIKE “BUT WE CAN JUST REMAKE YOU RIGHT WE HAVE YOUR STAND DISC??” SHE DOESNT WANT HER TO GOOO HELP ME HELP ME. I'm in tatters these three girls loved each other so fucking much they just wanted each other safe and they DESERVED to be safe and happy together but araki is fucking evil

jotaweather I KNOW THIS IS A CRACK SHIP I KNOW I KNOW I KNOW DONT FUCKIGN LOOK AT ME JUST HEAR ME OUT. jotaro and weather r both of similar demeanor that is quiet soft-speaking intimidating strong big aura of sadness coming from them. both have powerful stands and both had real fucked up luck in the love department. i also hc both to be autistic so that’d be another similarity. i jus think them settling down together after everything went down in a stone ocean au would be very soft and sweet yknow? they wouldn't even necessarily start it off in a romantic sense but they just take the time to try and heal with each other and eventually it just kinda veers that way. yeah

gyjo for OBVIOUS reasons like are you serious? gyro changed johnny’s fucking lfie from the SECOND they first interact johnny begins to push himself and tries to reach further/go further. and in turn johnny shows gyro you cant always be a wet blanket you need to take a stand this both helps his resolve to save the kid AND helps him to take the measures necessary to get to his goal. like gyro would not have been able to find johnny in the “who shot johnny joestar?” arc if he hadn't gone through, say, the ring roadagain arc with johnny first. listen man their relationship is literally the catalyst for this whole part it’s the driving force i just. they love each other they love each other thank you goodnight I'm emo

yasugap is just so so so so sweet it makes me so happy,,like okay josuk8 literally has a daydream where all that happens is he gives yasuho some candy and she eats it and is like “aw josuke this is so good thanks!” and she smiles at him and that’s IT THAT’S THE DAYDREAM 😭 listen they just love each other so much and i am emo. they literally SAVED EACH OTHER OKAY LIKE yasuho pulls him from the dirt and like she mentioned during the flashback chapter with the hairpin and her dad, it was also the other way around....saving josuke also saved herself and just LISTEN TO ME. THEY LOVE EACH OTHER. it’s a very sweet and healthy relationship and i hope to god araki makes it canon please sir ill bite you

anyway yeah these are the main main ones ? that i ship ship. like you'll get me excited if u mention them. anyway this post has gone on long enough so I'm gonna end it here by saying i really do have a thing where the relationship focuses on healing/helping one or both parties to save/improve themselves

[luthienne]

Hi ! I was wondering if you had quotes / thoughts about feeling lost in life, when nothing feels right and choices have to be made even though they all feel like lukewarm water when you wanted a hot bath. That feeling of losing a sense of grounding and not seeing the direction in which to move. thank you xx

(I’ve been wanting to compile this from the moment I received your ask in my inbox. I know the feeling intimately, and I love the way you articulated it. Hope any of these quotes resonate w what you were looking for xx)

“What shall we do my darling, when trial grows more, and more, when the dim, lone light expires, and it’s dark, so very dark, and we wander, and know not where, and cannot get out of the forest…”

—Emily Dickinson, Selected Letters

“She had never figured out how to figure things out. She was only vaguely beginning to know the kind of absence she had of herself inside her.”

—Clarice Lispector, The Hour of the Star (tr. Benjamin Moser)

“But as it is / I lack myself.”

—Anne Carson, Grief Lessons; “Herakles”

“Even now I can’t explain. Something happened, a kind of earthquake that shook everything and I lost faith and touch with everybody.”

—Katherine Mansfield, Letters of Katherine Mansfield

“She felt suddenly as if she were a ghost in her own life—”

—Catherynne M. Valente, The Orphan’s Tales: In the Night Garden

“I hate seeing myself dissolve and slip and separate so that I’m living in one half of my mind, and I see the other half of me helpless and frantic and driven and I can’t stop it, but I know I’m not really going to be hurt and yet time is so long and even a second goes on and on and I could stand any of it if I could only surrender—”

—Shirley Jackson, The Haunting of Hill House

“It makes me tremble. (…) To think back. I remember exactly how I thought life would be.”

—Anne Carson, The Beauty of the Husband

Emily Dickinson, ��I felt a Funeral in my Brain”

“and I didn’t care / and I was alone / and there had been war / and that thing (my soul) / was a lost star / or a lost boat / adrift,”

—H.D., Child Poems: “Dedication” 

“She had a perpetual sense (…), of being out, out, far out to sea and alone; she always had the feeling that it was very, very dangerous to live even one day.”

—Virginia Woolf, Mrs Dalloway 

“You know the feeling? One lies in a kind of daze, feeling so sensitive—so unbearably sensitive to the exterior world and longing for something ‘lovely’ to happen.”

—Katherine Mansfield, Letters of Katherine Mansfield

“I don’t care a bit—about anything—I just seem to be asleep and can’t wake up—”

—Georgia O’Keeffe, Art and Letters of Georgia O’Keeffe

“Life is what happens to someone else; / I stand on the sidelines and wring my hands.”

—Lisel Mueller, Waving from Shore

“…it is a little thing to say how lone it is — anyone can do it, but to wear loneliness next to your heart for weeks, when you sleep, and when you wake, ever missing something, this, all cannot say, and it baffles me.”

—Emily Dickinson, Selected Letters

“My life now is a dream too, semi-detached, and seems to happen to somebody else.”

—Martha Gellhorn, from Selected Letters

“I don’t know—I don’t know anything. There is no one here I can talk to—it’s all like a bad dream.”

—Georgia O’Keeffe, Art and Letters of Georgia O’Keeffe

“…she does not know whom she wishes to catch, only that she wishes to catch someone, anyone, to be anchored, to be connected, to not be abandoned.”

—Catherynne M. Valente, Deathless

“I had lost my true rhythm. But what was my true rhythm?”

—Anaïs Nin, The Diary of Anaïs Nin: Vol 1, 1931-1934 

“People kept saying It’s only a matter of time so I persevered in the hope they weren’t lying. At the same time beginning to think I might’ve been lying to myself. Wasting everyone’s time with fantasies of this career I couldn’t have. The person I could never be. There was just so much rejection and not enough of me. I got so afraid. And I lost my nerve—”

—Eimear McBride, The Lesser Bohemians

—Denise Levertov, Life in the Forest; “A Daughter (I)”

“I’m not lost. Or not lost much. Lonely. It is that and … I don’t know what to do. So I move. And cars move. And it’s almost life.”

—Eimear McBride, The Lesser Bohemians 

“What prevents you? The future. The future tense, / immense as outer space. / You could get lost there. / No. Nothing so simple. The past, its density / and drowned events pressing you down, / like sea water—”

—Margaret Atwood, “Up”

“What is there to say? I became physically ill. It was as if I had fallen into space and hung there while life passed me by.”

—Boris Pasternak, Letters Summer 1926: Pasternak, Tsvetaeva, Rilke

“And nothing else happens. The days go by, lost, wasted, and I have no drive to write, no words come… And I grow more and more solitary.”

—Martha Gellhorn, Selected Letters

“I cannot write anymore, dears. Though it is many nights, my mind never comes home.”

—Emily Dickinson, Selected Letters

“As time goes by, especially in the last few years, I’ve lost the knack of being a person. I no longer know how one is supposed to be. And an entirely new kind of ‘solitude of not belonging’ has started invading me like ivy on a wall.”

—Clarice Lispector, Why This World: A Biography of Clarice Lispector 

“There’s a loss of personality. / Or rather, you’ve lost touch with the person / You thought you were. / You no longer feel quite human.”

—T.S. Eliot, The Cocktail Party

“My wings are cut and I can-not fly I can-not fly I can-not fly.”

—Katherine Mansfield, Letters of Katherine Mansfield

“Me, as ever, gone.”

—Anne Carson, Decreation; “Despite her Pain, Another Day”

“…and I am out with lanterns, looking for myself.”

—Emily Dickinson, Letters

“…why this doubt that I have about everything I do, this void that frightens me, all these lost illusions?”

—Gustave Flaubert, Intimate Notebook 1840-1841

“What I fear I avoid. What I fear I pretend does not exist. What I fear is quietly killing me. Would there were a festival for my fears, a ritual burning of what is coward in me, what is lost in me. Let the light in before it is too late.”

—Jeanette Winterson, “The Green Man” 

“Around. Around. There / should have been / a lesson somewhere.”

—Louise Glück, “The Game”

“Only occasionally do I find I have to break my peace: shout or be lost in the shuffle. But mostly I am lost in the shuffle.”

—Barbara Kingsolver, The Poisonwood Bible

“Things went wrong. She lost confidence. She became apprehensive in crowds. I recognize how that she was feeling then as I feel now. Invisible on the street.”

—Joan Didion, Blue Nights

“She had the oddest sense of being herself invisible; unseen; unknown;”

—Virginia Woolf, Mrs Dalloway

“You might not remember me, dears. I cannot recall myself. I thought I was strongly built, but this stronger has undermined me.”

—Emily Dickinson, Selected Letters

“I have no world to go back into, or to go forward into. Because these years have cut me away from many things – from everything: not only materially, but also mentally, spiritually.”

—Martha Gellhorn, Selected Letters

—Rita Dove, “The Venus of Willendorf”

“…for we are in such fragile skin, so close to getting lost in the in-between.”

—Eimear McBride, The Lesser Bohemians

“I do not want revenge, I do not want expiation. / I only want to ask someone / how I was lost, / how I was lost,”

—Margaret Atwood, “Owl Song”

“I felt as if the sky was torn off my life. I had no home in goodness anymore.”

—Anne Carson, “The Glass Essay”

“Let it be over, she pleaded within herself. Let it never have happened—any of it. Let me be young again, and the story just starting.”

—Catherynne M. Valente, Deathless

“The ultimate fantasy: the recovery of an irrecoverable past. But if I could daydream about an invented happy future…”

—Susan Sontag, As Consciousness Is Harnessed to Flesh

“Tell me what’s the difference / between hope and waiting / because my heart doesn’t know / It constantly cuts itself on the glass of waiting / It constantly gets lost in the fog of hope”

—Anna Kamienska, Astonishments

—Denise Levertov, To Stay Alive

“I long to—ah, so much!! If that were possible I’d get back to my spirit.”

—Katherine Mansfield, Selected Letters

“I told my Soul to sing— / She said her Strings were snapt—”

—Emily Dickinson, Complete Poems; “The first Day’s Night had come,”

“Surely it is a privilege to approach the end / still believing in something.”

—Louise Glück, Averno; “October”

“There is a wild raging river flowing inside of me. I can’t dam it. I’m hurt so badly. Believe me—oh shit! Believe, believe—what’s there to believe anymore?”

— Henry Miller, A Literate Passion

“And life tasteless. And so eager, so eager that I should accomplish a miracle. People always expect miracles.”

—Anaïs Nin, A Literate Passion

“I want to be filled with longing again / till dark burn marks show on my skin. I want to be written again / in the Book of Life, to be written every single day / till the writing hand hurts.”

—Yehuda Amichai,“I Walked Past a House Where I Lived Once,”

“I want / my heart back / I want to feel everything again—”

—Louise Glück, Averno; “Blue Rotunda”

[starchild--27]

Bus Ride Crush

- somehow you mend my heart and break it again -

It’s just that very ordinary bus ride.

The driver probably doesn’t know the meaning of numbers, judging by how much he exceeds the speed limit.

But I don’t particularly mind. The roaring of the engine and the little bumps every now and then almost feel calming. and, as a matter of fact, I don’t know the meanings of many things either, so who am I to criticize?

I do think it’s rude how he just starts speeding again after an old Lady got on the bus though. He doesn’t even wait until she sat down, instead the Lady almost falls, desperately wrapping her thin fingers around the handle on a on one of the backrests close to her.

I am ready to jump up from my seat to help her in case she falls down for real but then my gaze lands on you and my limbs suddenly freeze, which is a strange contrast to the warmth, almost heat, I feel spreading through my body. The pounding of my heart resonates in my ears, my brain shuts down completely and with that my perception of time.

how long am I staring at you already? Two seconds, two minutes, two hours?

It can’t be too long because I still watch you slowly walking towards the back of the vehicle where I am sitting. also, I haven’t fainted yet so you can’t be that close to me yet. your eyes hectically move around, trying to pick one of the many empty seats. I am still observing you, getting a glimpse at your eyes that sparkle in a dreamily way which somehow makes me think that you aren’t mentally here in the bus either. I hope we are wandering in the same world as I ask myself what melodies you might hear through the headphones you are wearing.

On your way towards me (not really, but let me dream) you have to pay close attention not to fall too, little frowns looking cute on your forehead and your fingers tightly holding onto the handrail, carefully sliding forward until you arrive at the seat you have chosen. I almost believe it is no coincidence that you’ve picked the seat I have the best view on. Entirely mesmerized by you, I lean my head against the glass (that doesn’t feel like glass at all) of the window right next to me. Now I wonder if you actually enjoy driving backwards or if you just decided walking further to the back would have been too much of a hassle.

For a moment I move my gaze away from you. It’s not like our eyes have met or something magical like this. I’m not even sure if you have noticed me at all. I just need to give myself a break and time to realize I’m in the middle of a bus ride crush once again. at some point, you or me will stand up and get off the bus and it will be over. At least a part of it, because I am sure your face will haunt me for quite some time after this bus ride ends.

When I “casually” set my eyes on you again, you don’t wear your beanie hat anymore, resulting in me craving to bury my fingers in the messiness of your hair. I shiver at the mere thought and I wish you knew. I wish you knew you are somebody’s bus ride crush and that somebody will think about you during the next few weeks.

And then I hope you don’t need to know. That you know already how loved you are by the persons you surround yourself with. I hope that my little crush is insignificant to you, because you don’t need a stranger to adore you – even if it’s almost like love at first sight.

And I wonder if you would mind me thinking about you in that way, if it would bother you if you knew.

Because in my head, you would have walked a little further to the back and you would have sat down next to me and I would have said “Hi” in the most awkward way because my pounding heart would have been louder than any coherent thought but you wouldn’t have minded because you would think it’s cute. And then you would have rested your head against mine or on my shoulder and you would have shared headphones with me and I would have been able to smell your freshly washed hair but not able to breath because we would have intertwined our fingers and we both would have closed our eyes to escape together, to wander though another world together – no matter if we would miss our bus stop and stay until the driver would have to kick us out, wake us up. But we wouldn’t care because we would still have each other in real life, not only in our own little world or the imagination of only one of us. In my imagination.

I wonder if it would bother you, these thoughts. Or if you wouldn’t care.

You are looking out of the window now, watching the trees and houses shrinking more and more as we are carried further away from them.

What are you thinking about? What’s on your mind? What’s your name and where are you from? What are you doing in your life and do you believe we could be meant to be but don’t know about it yet?

I imagine you are a student, studying something I have no single clue about. But I would listen to you talking about it anyway. Because I would love the way your eyes would be almost burning with passion. Because it would make me wonder if this is the way your eyes look when you would be talking about me to somebody else. Because it would make me wonder if this is the way your eyes look when you would look at me in moments I wouldn’t notice.

The familiarity of the houses in this area of the town pulls me out of my daydreaming for good. Only two stops left, then it would be over. Once again, I take a very good look at you, trying to keep all your features in my mind, as clear as possible. By now I am 100% sure you haven’t noticed me or my weird staring at all. You are still absently watching the scenery passing by. In my head, I say goodbye to you, beautiful stranger. I will probably never meet you again.

Then it’s time to press the “stop”-button. I raise from my seat and move to the closest door of the bus on wobbly legs, passing you, who doesn’t even move a millimetre, while I feel like my heart must be exploding in my ribcage. The bus stops, the doors open with a loud hiss. And I step outside, cold air hitting me, filling my lungs. I take a deep breath and turn around one last time, looking for you.

And our eyes meet.    

[11 dec 2020]

[poetic-emptiness-fanfic]

8th of May (Echoes of the Past 9: First loves)

Characters: Hande Kuura, Salma Kuura, Sargon Hakimi, Helena Kuura (mentioned), Sardar Gul (mentioned), Afsoun Gul (mentioned), Armas Vuorimaa (mentioned), Paavo Kuura (mentioned), Hugo Kuura (mentioned) & Taika Kuura (mentioned)

Content warnings: some profanities, mention of blood & death

Words: ~3 300

@arcana-echoes

[Extracts from Hande's diary – she writes alternately in Karnassian and Hongas; also letters]

17th April 828, Vesuvia

I think I'm going slightly mad... Today amme Afsoun summoned me to the shop after the post was delivered: I received a letter. Since I've only been in Vesuvia for two weeks, I was sure it was from home – not many people know I'm currently here. I don't wish everyone to know each and every move I make, so I appreciate that even Salma has kept her mouth shut. And speaking of the Devil, the letter was from her. Amme didn't want any help with the shop, so I went upstairs immediately, back to ”my” reading haunt (I just love that turquoise armchair...) to read what the Monkey had to say this time. I include the letter below:

15th April 828, Karnassos

My dearest Gorilla,

I hope you’re enjoying your time with Amme in Vesuvia. I’m still a little nettled that I got this stupid flu and couldn’t go with you - I miss Vesuvia’s marketplace and Amme. Don’t worry, I’m still happy for you; you get to see the Flower Festival and learn some awesome magic. You must show me, when you get back home!

Luckily, I no longer have a fever, but my throat is still sore and I feel tired all the time. Baba cheers me up by drawing beautiful pictures of animals and flowers - I’ve hanged the drawings on my wall! Äiti is quite busy with her clothing commissions, but in the evenings she comes to play chess with me. Otherwise I’m reading and daydreaming and listening to that music box - thank you for sending it to me! It has brought me a lot of joy!

By the way, Sargon visited here yesterday. He wanted to see you and was quite disappointed when he heard that you are visiting Amme. I bet my bottom daric he has a crush on you… ;) And don’t claim anything else, I’ve seen earlier, how he looks at you! You’d be a daft for not noticing that! He’ll be one lucky guy if you two started to date. Yeah, yeah, he’s handsome and kind and all… but we both know, which one of you is the awesome one! ;)

I’m not going to tease you anymore, I just want you to be happy, that’s all! But for now, make the most of your trip in Vesuvia! And please, write me as soon as you can.

Your oh, so darling sister,

Salma the Monkey

Yeah, she still mixes Karnassian and Hongas in one letter, but well, I find it fun – at least it'd be quite difficult for an outsider to read it. Good luck with two different alphabets, hah! But holy shit, I still can't believe that last part: Sargon has visited our home to see ME? And he was DISAPPOINTED, because I wasn't there??? Is Salma messing with me? But why would she – she may be even more mischevious than me, but she isn't mean. Oh, now I regret I told her I had fallen for a CHILDHOOD FRIEND... I'm so stupid... But what if Salma's right? What if Sargon has a crush on me? No, it can't be it... He's handsome, kind and rich... He's practically the most wanted boy of our age – many parents even try to arrange their children to get engaged with him. He's only 15, turns 16 in a couple of months... Argh, Salma, why did you make me confused?!

To be entirely honest, I still miss her. I've said it before, but I really am also nettled that she wasn't able to come with me – the carriage trip would've not been so boring if she was there keeping me company. Well, at least I got my books... Oh, speaking of books, I hope my package is delivered in time! Tomorrow is baba's birthday and I found a perfect book for him. I still hope he likes it – it's a little sad to be away during his big day, but oh well... Luckily he turns 41, so it's not anything too special... Ugh, I just can't stop thinking about Sargon, damn him! And damn me, now I hope I never get home, I'm going to be so screwed... Luckily I know a spell for invisibility so I can just avoid everyone if needed. Or I can escape to Hjalle, vaari¹ can keep me safe, heh.

Amme has already fallen asleep. I try to follow suit. Good night!

7th May 828, Karnassos

I'm really going mad! I must be imagining everything and I'll find out that I really am in a mental asylum... So much has happened after I returned back home. Äiti, baba and Salma surprised me on my birthday and brought me breakfast to bed. I also didn't have to attend agha Akhtar's lessons, he even made me a birthday card! I was really surprised he took the time – usually he just brings some sweets (and even that's so kind from him!). But that wasn't all: in the afternoon that day, Sargon came to say hi and he gave me a present! I didn't know he even remembers my birthday – he's a little absent-minded when it comes to birthdays or other important dates. He gave me a drawing set with pencils and a sketchbook with fine paper – it really felt too much... Of course the Monkey teased me THE WHOLE DAY after that so I might have hexed her... Nothing serious! She just couldn't remember where she did put her things for the rest of the day.

Yesterday wasn't any special, but today Sargon visited AGAIN. I'm a little mad at baba that he let him in... I just... Now I feel like äiti and baba also have figured out something and they have this conspiracy with Salma to try to play matchmakers for me... It feels so awkward... And now I really suspect it's just some kind of a sick joke and Sargon is plotting with them... Sargon asked me especially to go out with him – usually we go with Salma together, since they're also friends. I didn't have the courage to say no so I went. It was fun, actually: we were wondering along the bazaar, feeding stray animals and later Sargon took my to their estate to see his horse. She is beautiful, her name is Zeka – the wind. Their stablemaster even let me to ride with her. It was nice, although I was a little nervous, since I haven't ridden that much.

Well, when the sun set, Sargon walked me home (or more like offered a carriage ride – it's so strange how rich his family is, having their own carriages). When we were in front of my doorstep, he even opened the door for me! And when I said him goodbye and was going to open the door, he KISSED ME ON THE CHEEK! And he just left, without saying anything more!!! I just ran straight to my room and to my embarrassment I need to admit I screamed on one of my pillows so Salma or my parents woldn't hear me. I just can't believe it really happened... I love his smile and the way he fiddles his fingers when he's concentrated and... He can't feel the same for me, he just can't! I'm not that special (I can do magic, but that's about it)... Everyone says how Salma is the beautiful one, although she'll just turn 13 in a few days... I'm just a weirdo who happened to inherit the ”exotic” look from my äiti...

I don't think I'll get much sleep next night. Maybe I try to read or probably brew some calming potion, if I can concentrate enough... My life is a mess...

8th May 828, Karnassos

I can't believe it. I CAN'T BELIEVE IT!!! Me and Sargon... We are a couple now!!! I feel like I'm in a wonderful dream and at any moment I might wake up. Today, when I was at the marketplace to buy new yarns and check if our bookseller had any new additions to their collection, I met Sargon again. My hands started sweating immediately and his face just lit up and he smiled so widely after he noticed me. I thought I must overreact and that's just how a friend would react... Well, he asked me to come to their place, he was trying to find a way to catch the cool air and push the warm air out and it could be used at homes. It was really fascinating, seeing his drawings and miniatures – he understands the physics way better than I do, but I could help him with chemistry. I'm sure he's going to be an engineer when he grows up!

But yeah, he always kept touching me a little: holding my hand, putting his hand on my back, even stroking my cheek. I thought I would explode! But still, I kept on thinking that I'm just imagining and overanalyzing and that was nothing... We talked and laughed and well, I even met the mayor (he's Sargon's uncle). I was so nervous, I've never met him like this before, only Sargon's parents. He told me he had heard about me and my sister, because Sargon has talked about us a lot during these years. The mayor of Karnassos KNEW ABOUT MY EXISTENCE??? Holy shit... But back to the matter at hand (I just can't help my mind, it keeps racing...): I spent the whole day at Hakimis, I even ate dinner with them.

Then Sargon again suggested that he'd escort me on my way home. Unlike usual, our carriage trip was spent in silence. It made me a little uneasy – I feared that I had disappointed Sargon somehow and that he was mad at me... Later, about halfway through the trip he suddenly took my hand in his. Then he just said my name and then he KISSED ME. Not on the cheek, but on the LIPS!!! I thought like I was struck by a lightning and luckily I was sitting, for I'm sure my legs would've given out if I was standing... After that we just kept staring each other, until I finally mustered my courage and whispered the words I had wanted to say for a long time: ”I love you.” He answered that he loves me too... The rest of the trip he came to sit next to me and we just hugged each other. I wished that the trip would never end, but eventually it did... Sargon opened the door for me again, but before I could get home, he kissed my hand. I also felt his stare in my back, until I turned around and waved him goodbye. But well, when I finally had floated to my room, I looked out the window and he was still there! He wanted to see I got there safely – what a moron, I was at my home already. xD But yes, I still found it cute.

He loves me. He really loves me...

22nd December 828, Karnassos

My dearest Ray of light,

Words can't describe, how much I miss you right now. Still, I'm happy you get the chance to spend some time with your family from your mother's side. I actually wish we'd also celebrate Midwinter Feast, it sounds so nice. Maybe I should ask mum if we could do that too next year...

Things here are the same: baba is always working and mama tries to entertain herself with dinner parties and theatre visits. I'm working on my studies and that ”ventilation system”. I hope I get it ready soon, it would be wonderful to try to test it! How's your short story doing? I really loved the previous one, it made me laugh so much! Do you let me read your next one when you get back home?

By the way, how's your family doing? I hope they are fine and your celebrations are going like planned. Is Salma still up to mischief? Well, I can imagine you'd be her partner of crime so Hjalleans and Forestian should keep their guard up! And let's pretend I'm not interested in your antics, but please, if you make any good jokes during your stay there, you must tell me when you get back!

I'm sorry that I'm not that good at words... You're so talented with them that I get nervous when I need to answer your letters. I can't do them justice and it makes me a little sad. I still keep trying for you, I really want to make you happy by writing back to you. You have made me so happy during these months and I really miss your voice and laughter and clever remarks.

Have a great Midwinter Feast! I send you lots of hugs and kisses! Remember, that I love you more than anything!

Forever yours,

Sargon

28th December 828, Hjalle

My lovely King²,

Thank you for your last letter! You don't need to worry about your writing – your letters always bring me great joy and I'll cherish them forever! I also miss you greatly, although I'm enjoying my time in Hjalle. It's been snowing for the last few days and the view when I look out of the window is spectacular! I made a drawing about it in my sketchbook – I hope I managed to capture the atmosphere...

My family is doing fine, thank you for asking! Baba and äiti enjoy the chance to relax, and vaari as well as Paavo-eno entertain me and Salma with playing funny games and of course we've played with our cousins, too. Erkki is 12 and Marjatta is 11, but they still are fun to be with and it's also nice to see our other uncles and aunt and their children. It's a little crowded here since the whole family is here, but in a good way.

Well, my short story is still a work in progress, but I guess I can show you some parts of it when we get back to Karnassos. And hah, I won't admit anything about making mischief! How could you even think of that of us, we are just little angles (heh)? I'm also very happy for you, I'm sure you'll get your invention ready soon!

I'm sorry about your baba. It must get lonely for you and your mama if he's not home very often... I wish I could do something to help for your situation... What if I make a potion for him that makes him stay at home and you slip it into his drink or something? Well, I don't think that's really very ethical thing to do... Maybe your mama should try to talk with him? And you, as well. I know it can be hard, but maybe he'll take more time for you if he learns that both of you feel lonely...

Although I've enjoyed my time in Hjalle, I really miss you, too. To be honest, I still get a little confused sometimes, about the fact that you're really with me. It's just like from a fairytale! Well, without the wicked witch part (there are just a few magicians, and they're harmless). But yeah, I really miss your cute eyes, babbling about your inventions and our trips together... Just remember, that we come back in two weeks, so it isn't that long time anymore (although for me, it feels like eternity).

I need to stop now, Taika asked me to join the dinner. Take care, lots of hugs and kisses! I love you very much!

Forever yours,

Hande

20th June 829, Karnassos

My love,

I hope the courier delivers this to you soon. I want to warn you: stay away from the Count of Vesuvia. He's dangerous. I won't say anymore until we meet face to face, but you will hear soon, that my uncle has died. That bastard killed him, because my uncle dared to complain that he stole our city's food storages. He's going to claim that my uncle was a demon, and that's why he killed him, but I don't believe it! Well, I guess you'd have known if he was a demon for real, since you're a magician...

But please, my mama is hysterical and baba is worried as well. They fear that the Count's army is going to occupy Karnassos because of this. We don't know how the Shah reacts to this... If the Count or his soldiers are in your neighbourhood, don't go near them. I don't want to lose you, too... We're staying at home just in case, so the Count can't think we're planning an uprising...

Please, stay safe, all of you! I love you!

Forever yours,

Sargon

27th June 829, Karnassos

Salma is dead... My little sister is dead... I don't want to talk about it...

15th November 829, Karnassos

It's over. My and Sargon's story I mean. I can't believe how he can be so cruel and heartless!!! I met him today at the park. He wanted to make out, but I didn't feel like it and he started to sulk like a little brat... How can I just ignore that we were meeting at the place where me and Salma used to play together for all these years? I didn't sleep well last night, I saw nightmares again... I must've screamed, because baba came into my room and woke me up. He stayed with me until I fell asleep... But yeah, I wanted to talk about my nightmares with Sargon, but he wouldn't listen. He just told me to think of something else. Something else??? He didn't see my sister crushed under the hooves of those BEASTS and he didn't have my sister's blood on his hands AGAIN!!! IT HAUNTS ME EVERY DAY AND I GET SICK!!!

I tried to ignore it and then suggested if we walk a little. I held his hand which seemed to make him a little happier. We just walked and neither of us talked for a long time, but then Sargon opened his stupid mouth, ”Look, Hande... My love... It's been four months since Salma died. You can't be sad all the time, it's giving me the creeps. Could you give me even  a little smile?” I was shocked. How dared he?! MY SISTER HAS DIED, IT WAS THAT DICKHEAD'S FAULT, ÄITI AND BABA ARE CRYING ALL THE TIME AND I HAVE NIGHTMARES AND GET ANXIETY ATTACKS EVERY FUCKING DAY, AND I SHOULD SMILE A LITTLE BECAUSE HE'S GETTING THE CREEPS??? I yanked my hand away and just stared at him. Then something snapped in my head and I started to shout at him, everything I've been keeping in my chest for all these months. I also called him a spoiled brat who doesn't know anything about real life. I don't regret saying that, he was asking for it...

Sargon got alarmed and tried to calm me down, but I didn't want him to touch me. I told him I was not his plaything and that since he couldn't even respect my grief, he didn't earn my smile. I dumped him and told him to stay away from me or I would curse him. He looked like he wanted to say something, but then he looked at my face and left with tail between his legs. I just ran home and started crying when I finally got here... Shit, I'm still crying... He betrayed me... I love Sargon and he betrayed me too... I thought that he would stay by my side... Well, I guess he's just like those others, who just ditched me because I didn't play their clown anymore!!! Fucking traitors... At least Azita is still my friend... If she left me, I couldn't take it anymore...

I feel like shit... I hate myself, because I wasn't good enough for anyone... Not for Salma, not for my so-called ”friends” and now, not for Sargon... Love is just a trap to make you suffer! I was stupid to give my heart to that slimy snob... Well, like agha Akhtar, amme and Hugo have always said, I ALWAYS learn from my mistakes. I will NEVER give my heart to anyone again, mark my words!!!

TRANSLATIONS:

¹ grandpa in Hongas

² the name Sargon means ”king” in Karnassian, the inside joke between Hande and Sargon

My AO3

[aidemint]

𝐑𝐞𝐮𝐧𝐢𝐨𝐧 - 𝐊𝐚𝐠𝐚𝐲𝐚 𝐔𝐛𝐮𝐲𝐚𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐤𝐢

Word Count: 1781

Warnings: Mentions of smoking

__

I told myself I would stop smoking, for the sake of my own sanity. I'd already thrown out all the nicotine I had and invested the money in books. Judging by how many novels I'd bought with the new budget, it was a good decision. A step in the right direction, considering that I was a writer.

Sighing as I organized the pile of books on the floor, stacking them so they fit perfectly into my bookshelf, I grumbled as I fought the urge to go out and suck on my pipe. Maybe there were leftovers still stuck in there. Once I realized my thought process, I shouted and hurriedly stuffed the novels into their place and fumed. Stomping out the door, I wanted to do something to stop this toxic cycle.

I should do something different. There has to be something to do.

Maybe my horrible life was a byproduct of all the shitty decisions I made so far. My publishing company didn't fail me, at least. I couldn't say that my career was a total flop, and I had a consistent paycheck, but I just felt so damn sad and lonely all the time. Sure, I was whining, but it wasn't for no good reason.

Plus, it wasn't like I hated every single thing on the planet Earth, I was just in a rut. Motivation was fleeting and I didn't have enough energy to chase after it. Not without an excuse, at least. I spent my days tirelessly writing and working my ass off for deadlines. To think I once enjoyed writing -- that was a long time ago, when I was a child. I'd daydream for hours, weaving fantasies in my head like I was on mushrooms.

How I wished to get a glimpse of the old days, to feel what I felt way back when I wasn't like this. I was so sure I was going to die alone and miserable, since I broke all the old connections I had when I started my career. It wasn't part of the contract or anything, I just felt that if I were to be mature, then I should sever off my childhood -- drop it like a lizard to its cut-off tail.

My jaw clenched as I spotted my pipe on the ground. I picked it up, squinting in distaste, debating about whether I should or shouldn't go to the market to get another good smoke in. I could drown out my worries that way.

Scoffing at myself, I took the fragile wooden tube and broke it in half, tossing it into the bushes.

How stupid.

__

Two days later, I was still in that same mood. But instead of twiddling my thumbs and lounging around like some lazy pig, I tried to pick up a new hobby while still reminiscing at the old days.

Ah, to be young.

I sounded like some old geezer.

But I kept thinking.

I miss everyone.

__

A week passed and I could safely say I was in a better mood. My cravings weren't as bad, and I tended to chew on mint leaves rather than suck on that damn wooden pipe.

Maybe for this reason, the universe decided to gift me a surprise.

The invitation arrived by crow. I was outside, doing some garden work when that black bird flew in front of me, its beady eyes analyzing every single one of my features. For a moment, it seemed hesitant to come near, but the creature eventually hopped its way to my feet and dropped a note by them.

I could have imagined it, but it seemed as if the crow gave me a slight bow before flapping it great wings and flying away. Eyeing the rolled-up parchment carefully, I picked it up and unraveled it, curious to see what message was displayed inside.

(Y/N),

I hope this letter finds its way to you without interruption. It's been a long time since we've last spoken, so before we get to the technicalities, I'd like to know: how are you? Hopefully you're in a prosperous position, one of good wealth and balance. I remember you always went on about becoming a renowned poet, and I think you're quite close to achieving that dream. Just yesterday I bought one of your books, and the limericks and clever haikus are quite entertaining.

Anyways, the real reason I wrote to you so late in our relationship is that I've been meaning to see you again. The last time we met, if I recall it correctly, was ten years ago -- far too long of a time for friends to be separated, no?

During these years, I imagine that a lot has changed. You're out and about, pursuing your dream and accomplishing your wildest dreams. It's admirable, to say the least. Though my disability hinders the possibility of me becoming a sumo wrestler, I am doing better than expected (even though I live with that disappointment).

I've just realized, in the middle of my jest, the topic has suddenly shifted to me. It's unpleasant, seeing how little control I have over my words. Please accept my apology, (Y/N), as I don't expect you to become suddenly infatuated with my life, nor does the meeting represent a discussion about the current events happening in my little "circle."

I just truly want to catch up with you. One of my greatest wishes is to see you again after all these years. I've missed our kinship.

So please, I implore you to come. There will be a guide outside of your house an hour after this crow is delivered. Please do not be frightened by the methods taken to bring you to my estate -- I'm sure you understand based on our previous history together.

I'm looking forwards to our potential reunion.

- Kagaya Ubuyashiki

My teeth tugged at my bottom lip as I closed the scroll, feeling tears well up in my eyes. With a tidal wave of memories flooding back into my mind, I couldn't help but want to cry. Kagaya was one of the people that made my childhood worthwhile. I'd met him when I was eight, while he was nine. We spent our free time together, however small the amount was.

Despite being so young, we were always busy. I took advanced courses at home, tutored by poets and writers from across the community. My parents did all they could to help me on my way to success, which I was grateful for. I never knew what Kagaya did, as he always kept it a secret, but I appreciated him nonetheless. He seemed so mature, even at age nine.

The way he thought was like a philosopher. Whenever I showed him my work, he'd bring about inquiries that would dumbfound even the greatest of my masters. I wondered how he did it and always wanted to be like him -- diligent, thoughtful, understanding.

Even now as an adult, he never fails to blow me away with his humility.

Sighing once more as I swept the stray tears off of my face, I pocketed the scroll and continued to do my garden work until the guide came. I was just about done when a masked figure strolled up to my home and asked me if I was (Y/N) (L/N). In response, I nodded and exchanged greetings before hopping onto their back and being blindfolded by the figure.

"I hope Master already told you about the procedure," they muttered awkwardly, "It's to prevent information from leaking." I laughed lightly and waved the thought away. Too excited to see my old friend again, the commentary bounced off me like rain to an umbrella.

"It's a smart idea." With that, the guide hauled me onto their back and took off running along their designated path.

__

Once I could finally see again, I blinked for a couple moments to let my eyes adjust to the blinding light. Though my vision was blurry and I couldn't quite make out the scene in front of me, I sensed multiple presences waiting for me at the entrance to the estate. When I'd finally cleared all the fog out of my head, I felt myself instinctively draw in a small gasp.

There Kagaya was, standing in the middle of a group of colorful figures. He wore a small and docile smile, gently waving at me from a distance. I quickly thanked the guide as I slid off of their back and made my way over to him. The ravenette regarded me with a kind look, and spread his arms as a welcoming gesture.

All the world's noise seemed to come upon deaf ears the closer I got to him.

Though his lips moved and the trees rustled, all I could hear was the sound of my own heart beating, thrumming through my eardrums. The sound of the flowing of blood in my veins became more prominent as I got increasingly star-struck.

Was this reality? Or just another twisted dream that came back to haunt me?

I wanted to believe that it was real. I desperately prayed, in that moment, that this was real. Maybe in a few seconds I would wake up, breathing heavily, covered in sweat in my futon on the ground. Then I'd squeeze my eyes shut again, crying for the sweet dream to come back to me. But as my staggers became steadier, and those steady strides quickened, I had a newfound energy to hope.

To believe that my life wasn't so hopelessly lost.

When the tips of my fingers reached my friend's kimono, my heart blossomed. The silk seemed to greet my touch like they already knew each other, despite the sensation being so foreign. I wanted to laugh and cry at the same time. I wanted to collapse onto the ground and sob until my eyes fell out of their sockets.

To think that the connections hadn't been severed, but rather weakened, was the greatest relief I'd ever experienced. It spurred me to think that maybe I could reconnect with the outside world rather than keep to myself all the time.

The possibility of not being alone and feeling a socially ambiguous made my insides tingle with excitement -- with childish wonder. There was someone who still cared for me, who still waited for me all these years, who was kind enough to reach out and contact me, the recluse, the hermit.

When I fell into his arms, breathless, I closed my eyes and finally smiled.

I could smile again.

And be thankful.

And finally feel like I was somebody.

I couldn't have asked for anything more.

[aassumida]

GIARDINO BLU

A / N: before I started everything I wanted to warn you that I don't speak English very well, forgive me if the story sucks

Things bloom

In unexpected moments

"But I know

This can't go on forever

I have to let you go

But I want you so much "

15th century: March 21st Italy

POV Author

It was a scorching summer day in a quiet northern Italian city in which it was not well known except for the fact that it was surrounded by fine grains of areas that covered the streets, mountains and houses, its residents were mostly humble people who lived their lives calmly, and without a lot of worries just having to stay in the same village day by day, there lived a man he was not a high class nobleman who lavished wealth and money wherever he went he was a simple homeless person nor a he was certainly not the most humble person in terms of money but he had an inherent and pure beauty that was easily hidden by his "rags" and dirt

An orphan since his birth with the disappearance or death of his parents he doesn't even know without knowing the world trapped walking in circles he steals to survive not that he really had much choice

ー hey little thief come back here with this

But an escape really was getting difficult to escape almost the whole city knew his face and knew him very well that was what they called him "little thief" even though he knew his name Naruto Uzumaki this time was a simple bakery that had the displeasure of being in touch with the blond but it wasn't his fault after all in this village street people only have one end to starve or steal to survive what would you choose?

He ran for a while until the lord of the bakery got tired of running after him giving up on leaving him with bubbling anger in his eyes Naruto took advantage of it and started eating the piece of bread with such speed that he realized where he was only after savoring "his "food in a lost forest was all he needed. The forest was full of trees it was even surprising compared to the hot climate of the village that no water was so dry wasting nature would appreciate everything since it was his first time there in his 21 years but the desperation to leave and go to the place who called it home was bigger

He walked on confusing trails up and down up there and without even knowing if he was close to leaving that place, it didn't make sense to sigh loudly with tiredness "My back is killing me and my legs are stuck in a stream" I thought with every step I took I didn't know little where he was going had left by the city gates they said that the forest was haunted they had already seen monsters there that they had tails and fierce looks stories to prevent their children from leaving home or disobeying their parents "If you don't behave I will leave you in the forest "but the most" scary "" The Monster of the Castle "the monster of the castle say he was the son of a lord who was the fruit of a love that could not even exist he was born with a few lines on his face that was thing for an ox to sleep Naruto always thought of the orphanage where he lived always told him these stories he didn’t understand yes he knew that there was indeed a man who lived in a huge old castle like the grains of sand in the city is that he was in fact the son, not of a lord, but of nothing but nothing less, the Duke of Florence, the youngest son in which he was sent is expelled for his appearance to this castle, the residents who saw him said that they said he it was ugly disgusting it’s even horrendous the blond with beautiful eyes blue sky didn’t understand didn’t understand why they didn’t even really know the man

Surprised sighs mixed with euphoria came out of his mouth as he witnessed a huge castle in front of him, it looked like it was made up of unanswered questions, he was in fact lost, but now what he was going to do to face the monster or remain lost without even being good at it. forest

He did the obvious right back to the forest not five minutes after turning around he started trying to climb the huge walls several and several attempts most fail well all until he finally managed to get over the huge walls "My God what a hell wall "

His surprise was such a huge garden composed of the most diverse and beautiful flowers ever seen, each one more beautiful than the other yellow red white pink and many more flowers never seen was right in front of him his eyes shone but he never observed everything with the greatest fascination the most beautiful thing he has witnessed in all these years but at the back of him he saw a man with short medium-length reddish hair is a thin physique watering is cultivating these flowers he seemed so serene cultivating his flowers he was so beautiful indeed there were thousands of lines and some black dots marking his face it only made him more beautiful Naruto barely noticed the hours seconds transformed into minutes gardem gave way to hours when he realized the man had already entered his castle is left his jrdim there lit only by the dim light of the moon

Naruto looked at those beautiful flowers

"Only a few will not hurt anyone"

He thought with a careful leap he looked like a cat just on the tip of his feet he was admiring for a while or a lot he lost his hours touching the flowers with delicacy they were so soft then after a few minutes he tore some flowers with care, right, carefully wrapped them in his little cloth when coming back to the forest it seemed that going back to his village was much easier maybe because of his wandering mind that only thought about the day he saw "The monster of the castle" that of a monster only had names he didn't look like a monster people really invent each thing he went to his little hiding place it was nothing too much to tell the truth just a bed is a table it could be worse was sleeping on his straw bed because we don't have any improvised money not soon after putting the flowers in a glass of water I could hardly sleep that's a thousand because just to throw himself in bed if he sleeps there like a cannonball the truth was that he only thought about the garden and the castle he wanted so much to talk to the man when you saw earlier your hunger took away everything when you fell asleep due to tiredness your thoughts were gone for an instant

Naruto POV

Italy June 22

Waking up with the hot sun hitting me in the face again was an ass every day the mana thing didn’t make a day that this village doesn’t get a miserable heat and honestly I didn’t want to wake up I looked to the side lazily but the sleep soon passed me I got up hurriedly and went to the flowers I took them in my hand shock

ー It wasn't a dream, I walk so exhausted I'm even daydreaming it can only be that

My belly is asking for urgent food I give a loud sigh but one day

ー Sometimes I just wanted to be rich

With the flowers I went walking through the streets, vast streets of the city simple houses mostly humble surrounded me small markets but a common day for everyone as always people looked at me unwanted this is what I am but I couldn't blame them in the end one a thief who steals them almost daily would be funny if it weren't tragic an old woman approached me with a smile on her face different from most people around me, how strange people usually ignore me or pretend I'm not even here or even stop to curse me I looked at him suspiciously "not a good thing"

ー What beautiful flowers my young man how much they cost

She spoke with a gentle smile I raised an eyebrow what the hell is she talking about I dared to ask

ー What?

She looked at me confused we both looked at each other in confusion it was even funny the scene two idiots not understanding anything they were talking about we were on different pages it would never work

ー You are not selling your flowers

I looked at the makeshift bouquet in my hands. Sell ​​? Flowers ? Money….

ー Ehhh yes ... I am selling it I mean they are mine… .. lady

Trying to sound as good as possible as someone who really knows what he is doing as well as I thought it sucked the old woman laughed outrageously she took some coins and handed it to me I took it firmly let her decide not to give it to me anymore

ー Well I want these roses here

She pointed it out and gave it to me quickly and right after its withdrawal I still didn't understand anything in one hand flowers in the other money

ー Money….

A whirlwind of thoughts prowled my head. I could sell flowers to get what to eat and live, maybe get out of this crappy village and thus be able to live, but these flowers are not even mine, how can I sell them?

I approached a guy who sold Shikamaru muffins I think he looked at me ugly with a mixture of tiredness he looked like he hadn't slept in ages with his black hair the Nara family one of the families but humble is respected at the same time I remembered I had assaulted him last week he just doesn't get me because of the laziness that has to be moved a putz muscle it had to be him my stomach rumbled loudly I apparently gave a boring smile and my discomfort didn't show

ー Will try to rob me again Naruto

He said suspiciously but soon after yawned his eyes slowly closed I scratched my head

ー Not this time… .I mean I'll pay myself Naruto Uzumaki I'll pay

I said hurriedly I handed him the money anyway he still looked at me suspiciously not believing in a word my look at him was judging me looking into my soul

ー HMM ... you didn't steal it from anyone is it

I looked at you offended

ー OF COURSE NO! I managed with my own money I… .. am selling flowers

I showed him the flowers with a proud look they were fascinated with them I was feeling so good that everything in me screamed "you are too convinced for someone who won 10 silvers"

ー Didn't know you grew flowers

I don't cultivate!

ー I will change of life

Said firmly

ー As long as you stop stealing my cookies I don't care little thief

ー I have a name Shikamaru

He just looked at me and gave a lazy smile I gave a smile too I left that tent and left as quickly as possible pretending dementia listening to Shikamaru's laugh behind this Shikamaru invents everything

Somewhere else

Gaara POV

Another day in this huge castle alone with my beautiful garden one of the only things that doesn't keep me lonely in this scum of life I let out loud sighs staring at the wall in disbelief how long it will last how long

I hear the door slam that made my thoughts change a little bit. Who is it that I hurry up sitting on the bed looking for my mask?

ー Master you should have been getting up ...

I sighed loud relief stamped across my entire being my right arm and the only person besides me who lives in that stupid castle came through the door with a coffee tray in addition to my cook's right arm and basically mine does everything I feel that without him I would go to freak out

Lee Rock Lee you don't need so much formality is your day off you shouldn't be doing anything but fun like I don't know dating you are young

ー The 70 year old man talks more fun than cooking is helping you in your impossible Giardino

ー Lee formality the formality reminds

He gives a small laugh Lee always manages to get laughs and smiles from me

ー yes yes you don't think you should go out a bit but Gaara meeting new people a boy or girl who knows

ー Who would want to know me or my father wants to see me my brothers for them I hardly exist because I have to be so horrendous

I said throwing myself on the bed again running my hands over the marks on my face

ー You have to stop calling yourself that not everyone cares about how you look, besides that you are very beautiful I'm sure you just didn't find the right person and your brothers love you I know NOW go take a shower to eat for the love o sunny day perfect for farming don't you think

He put the tray on top of the table, which was always full of books about flowers. I loved creating flowers and taking care of them. My mother liked it. I felt sorry for not having met him. Lee left quickly. I was already preparing for monotonous days. to the bathroom

Somewhere else

POV Author

The young Uzumaki sold "his" flowers surprisingly they made successes who saw fell in love with his old "friend" Sakura Haruno appeared all euphoric as always a woman from high society nor was it known why loads of water she was in that peaceful village

ㅡ NARUTO UZUMAKI WHO YOU STOLE THIS TIME

she said already giving him slaps and sermons as always

ㅡ AINN Sakura-Chan how long I thought until you had already fled this city

I teased her, she rolled her eyes and gave me another shit making me bewildered it hurt so much it looks like I'm going to pass out sure there will be a cock

ㅡ SHUT UP THE MOUTH BAKA You know why I'm here I need to see my lady

She smiled smugly but with a look of malice I wanted to laugh but I am respectful

ㅡ first stop screaming the scandalous it's me second came to see Hinata again

her look fell I gave a look of I KNOW YOU

ㅡ Know that the Hyuuga are enemies of the Haruno

ㅡ nonsense nobody will stop our love now give me one of these wonderful flowers

I gave her the rest of the flowers with rest I say a flower she gave me the money and I quickly denied it

ㅡ Go right before I change my mind I don't deny money

She ran quickly with the flower she knows me well the flower in her hand she swayed with the speed of her steps more obvious without first giving me another punch mommy I just don't fight with her because I don't want to be beaten to death

Watching the sunset I didn't know where I was going the streets are still busy as if the joy of the city really started I could just go away and wait one day I had money for at least tomorrow but I followed the forest when I entered it all it looked so scary but also so comforting in a short time unlike yesterday the moon was bright i didn't know where i was going i was going back to that place to that garden for that man AI Naruto your idiot is going crazy

Upon seeing the castle even with the huge trees I could clearly see flashing flames and attractive drugs

I tried school again the walls were easier than the last time when I jumped I could see those beauties this beautiful Giardino I approached without wanting to steal know how much closer I saw a body A BODY was the red-haired man I got closer her every time but my heart was beating the more I got close until I saw him sleeping he was so serene in the middle of several sunflowers

ㅡ Who are you… ..

I ran my hand over his face my fingers were delighted by his lines his shadow on his face his little dots the man opened his eyes eyes sea green beautiful as the owner grandma tell you he looked bewildered but when he noticed our approach he quickly got up and walked away

ㅡ Who are you…. why are you here

[alwaysaglader]

Be Your Own Hero

Warning : Self destruction, self harm and suicidal mentions.  

Newt's P.O.V

My eyes shot wide open as I woke up drenched in sweat with tears on the brim of my eyes and my heart pounding rapidly in chest. I felt like a burning house being buried beneath floodwaters rushing all around me.

It was another haunting nightmare.

I choked back a sniffle, wiping the tears streaming down my face with my shivering fingers. It's been hell. It's always been hell. For years, I've been coping with depression, which I started suffering from since some traumatic things that happened in my life but these last few months have been a worsening disaster each and every day.

I am barely breathing with a broken heart that is still beating.

Ever since the Dark days, I feel like it's gone to a point of no return. I've been waking up everyday, feeling lost and confused, and scared. This feeling occurred often inside me, exhausting me emotionally and physically. I've been tired forever.

That feeling you get in your stomach, when your heart is broken, it's like all the butterflies just died and all I wanted to do right now was cry and scream it all out because it was killing me inside.

The Dark days left a broken piece in each of us, something to haunt us for the rest of our lives. The word nightmare is too less a simplicity to define it all.

I let out a few sobs and stuffed my shivering cold fingers to my hoodie pocket only to feel something inside. Confusedly, I moved my fingers only to grab hold of a flower - I picked for Y/N. I twirled my fingers around the  stem, the soft petals brushing against my skin as my mind immediately drifted off to her.

Y/N - the angel of our Glade.

There wasn't anyone else in the world who would always be there when someone was in need, whether it was for a helping hand or a shoulder to cry on or even simply for a hug to feel better.

When she caught someone having crying fits and beginning to keep everything to themselves, including words and mood swings, she would sit for hours on end, just simply listening to us and making us feel safe and not alone in this cruel world, regardless of how much she has to deal with on her own.

Most of us are gifted with the ability to see the monsters hidden within another, but are unable to see past them. It takes a special kind of person to see the light inside of every living being.

Specially with me, even though I am not the same person I was to her as in the beginning, and I sometimes feel like I'm still not the same but Y/N didn't once ever leave my side, even though I tasted of heartache and war.

Y/N is an unbelievably strong girl. She walks around every day on the verge of tears, and no one even has the slightest clue that she's not okay.

She puts on a brave face everyday to give us hope and strength but I know that she is carrying the burden of the world on her shoulders alone but will do anything to see someone else smile.

She's got the eyes of innocence; the face of an angel. The personality of a dreamer and a smile that hides more pain that you can ever imagine.

She's the type of girl that is going to say "I got this" even with tears in her eyes.

I left my room and stumbled through the dimly lit halls, making my way out of the Homestead to grab a glass of water to quench my thirst.

I opened the door of the kitchen and fumbled for the light switch. Only as I flicked it on, did I see the bloody mess, cupboards opened wide, food scattered all about, which isn't like Fry at all, so I assumed that Minho and Thomas were definitely here sneaking out food. Those shanks with their never ending hunger.

Letting out a deep sigh, I started to clean up the kitchen to a certain extent before leaving, a commotion was not needed tomorrow morning. Specially with those two shanks who run away when they see Alby fuming towards them.

After I was done, I decided to take a check on the boys soundly asleep on their hammocks, before heading anywhere else but my room. I couldn't stand to be in there tonight.

As I was making my way across the Glade, I stared up at the sky above, admiring the canopy of stars that lit the clear night sky. Star gazing has always been a favourite, as the simple beauty of the stars is enough to calm me at times and take my mind away from my problems. 

Sleep could not be caught tonight, so I walked over to the Watch tower and climbed to the top, only to see a bundle of blankets and pillows, and Y/N cocooned in the middle of it.

She looked so pure and angelic that it took me aback a little.

Now grinning myself, I moved myself closer and knelt next to her, only to see her chubby cheeks puffed and red as if she's been... crying all night. The sight broke my heart, as I leaned into her and cupped one side of her jaw, trailing my fingertips over her soft, silky skin.

A hum left her lips as she started stirring under my touch. "Shh.. it's alright.. it's just me... Newtie" I whispered, brushing a few strands of hair away from her face, as her eyes which had one of the most beautiful mixture of colours I had ever seen in my life, slowly opened.

"Love... do you want to go to bed?" I asked, as she blinked her eyes a few times, looking lost, before fixating them on mine. Her lips curled tiredly as she settled herself from her rolled-up position. "I'll think I'll stay out here tonight Newt".  

She's battling things her smile will never tell you about.

"Y/N, do you mind if I join you?" I asked, not wanting her to be alone again, and she nodded in acknowledgement, looking up at me with her beautiful pair of eyes as I scooched myself beside her.

Being cuddly, I slowly wrapped my arms around her, listening to the change of her breathing pattern. Y/N stirred in my arms, and pressed herself tighter against me, nuzzling her face just underneath my chin. Smiling to the cuteness, I caressed her back.

"You make me so cosy" she let out a giggle of glee. "Well of course love", I grinned and pressed a kiss on her little nose, "you are my cuddly teddy bear".  

A soft wave of warmth washed over my heart as her lips spilled with many giggles. I felt my heart melt at the beauty of her voice filling the silent sky. I was so mesmerised at the way her lips curved at the edges, dragging her beautiful smile across her face, all the way up to her glimmering eyes. It was the most breath-taking sight to behold.

Only when her puzzled voice echoed through my ears, did she pull me out of my daydream. "Newt?" she carefully cupped my face into her hand palms, as if I'd break any second, "you blanked out there for a minute".  

I felt my cheeks go red in embarrassment as a sudden wave of shyness washed over me.  "You haven't laughed in a long time" I murmured softly, feeling my cheeks burning, "I guess I was staring cause I forgot how that looked like".

Her cheeks dusted pink as a gentle smile appeared on her face. It was one of the most adorable things I've ever seen in my life.

A silence fell across the night sky, as we simply rested intertwined in our embrace. I hummed and smiled, loving this moment. For the first time, after too long, did I feel a flicker of joy in my heart... but it was taken away from me too quickly.

Having a heavy heart and an anxious mind is the worst. I never let myself be happy, I feel alone even when I'm not and sometimes I don't even know what's wrong.

"Newt are you alright?" Y/N's small voice sounded with concern, pulling my mind away from my drowning thoughts. "Not really love... but I'll be fine" I answered, my heart saddening as I gazed upon the worried expression on her face. "Newt, please talk to me".

"It's nothing important"I muttered, shaking my head like a little kid and looked down with a pout, "I don't want to talk about it". Soon after did I feel a longing kiss being pressed on my forehead. "Why not Newtie?".

"I'll cry" I mumbled, to which she cuddled me closer, and I grew boneless in her arms, to the warmth of her body and the steady beating of her heart.

"Crying doesn't make you weak Newt. It means you have been strong for too long" she whispered and peppered kisses here and there. Her hands closed in on mine, fingers sliding between the gasps of my digits. "Talk to me".

With our hands intertwined, I finally dared to look up at her.

"Have you ever felt so lost in your life to a point where you don't seem to know even who you are? Ever feel like you're trying to find a simple sprinkle of happiness but your mind is too intoxicated with poisonous thoughts, tearing you apart bit by bit inside each day? That's how I am feeling" I started to cry, as my emotions poured out of me, as if I finally opened myself up, this time all the way.

"I've fought so hard but I feel like my entire world is breaking apart no matter how much I've struggled through my life. I feel like I've lost all hope at this point. I can't even remember what it feels like to be myself anymore" my sobs and my mouth pressed against her shoulder almost made my speech unclear, but Y/N didn't mind as she continued to listen to me while she wiped the tears that had started falling.

"I feel so alone, struggling to get to a point in life which I don't even believe can exist anymore" I panted, completely out of breath, voice trembling a little from all the emotions, "I'm not even asking for happiness anymore Y/N, just a little less pain to say the least".

"I am going closer to the edge Y/N" my sobs transformed into soft sniffles, as a feeling of absolute cold shot through me, making me shiver against her. Y/N stiffened.

"Ending your life doesn't stop the pain Newt" she murmured softly, her fingers gently combed through my hair, "it just passes it on to someone else".

Her voice was almost inaudible, but I still sensed her words.

I could feel my head spinning, my emotions encircling me like a tornado. I buried myself deeper into her arms and hid my face, squeezing her a little.

"Shh, don't cry". Her calming voice caused my heartbeat to slow down, and my crying to die down, like a mother hushing her child.

After a few moments of cuddling quietly, I gently pulled away and sat down beside her again. ''Y/N, darling?'' I murmured, moving closer as she continued to look at me in complete silence, "do you struggle?".

Her expression soon turned dull as she rubbed her eyes in a hurry, desperately trying to fight her tears back, but I slowly grabbed her wrists gently into my hands and bought them close to my lips, placing a kiss on each.

I think people often forget, that sometimes the person who tries to fix everyone, needs fixing too.

"Love, please talk to me" I told her just above a whisper. She looked small and hurt, completely curled into a small ball against the wooden fence, knees against her chest. My heart shattered at the sight.

"Please talk to me Y/N" I pleaded again, and she looked into my eyes this time, with an intense look that squeezed the air out of my lungs, her bottom lip trembling as she tried to keep himself from crying. "I can't loose you".

Y/N's P.O.V

"I just handle it alone Newt", I murmured softly, my voice barely a whisper, "I've always dealt with everything alone". Without saying something, but just with some tears, did he crawl towards me and nuzzle himself deep into my chest for a cuddle. "Why Y/N?".

His heartfelt plea made my heart ache.

"I've cried so much in my life Newt" I started with a broken voice, remembering my past memories which used to haunt me, "but nobody has ever been there to wipe the tears that rolled down my cheeks".

"One day I looked down and realized - I have two hands myself". I pulled away from the snuggle so I could look at him. His watery, chocolate brown eyes fell on mine.

"Everything that's hit me in my life I have dealt with on my own" I continued in a quiet tone, "cried myself to sleep on my own, picked myself back up and wiped my tears on my own and have grown from things that were meant to break me".

"I saved myself" I whispered, and rested my head on top of his as he gazed at me with a softened expression,"instead of waiting for other people to save me".  

"I stopped thinking of myself as damaged, and started to think about myself as growing to be stronger from the person I used to be".  

Running a hand over his head, I brushed a few strands of hair behind his ear before he placed his head back against my chest. "Does your past still haunt you?".

"Not anymore" I said, my hands occupying themselves by twirling and playing with his blond locks, "the only time I look back to the past now is to see how far I've come. It can't hurt me, unless I let it".

"My past beats inside me like a second heart Y/N" he choked out, clutching onto me like it's his lifeline, "there seems to be no end to it ending to getting over it".

I quickly grabbed his face in my hands and pulled it closer to my own and pressed a kiss on his forehead, what made him smile a little.

"I know letting go is a slow process Newt, but quitting won't speed it up, it does not matter how slowly you go as long as you do not stop" I said, while wiping the tears that had started trickling down his cheeks, "it's okay to have setbacks and the need for do-overs. It's okay to draw a line in the sand and start over again and again".

"Just make sure you're moving the line forward. Take baby steps and simply make progress". My heart ached again, to have him so broken in my arms. I could still feel his tears dripping on me.

"Sometimes you will have to fight a battle more than once to win it" I mumbled just above a whisper and cupped his face, drying his wet cheeks, "and the hardest battle you are ever going to have to fight is the battle to be just you".  

We all have a war inside us. Sometimes it keeps us alive. Sometimes it threatens to destroy us. But it always leaves us a scar. Sometimes you don't see them until later. Sometimes you don't know where they've come from. Sometimes they fade before your eyes. But the world leaves its mark on us. But that scar is proof that you was stronger than what had tried to hurt you.

Strength is not about how much you can handle before you break. It is about how much you can endure after you've been broken.

Slowly and very softly did he part from me with watery eyes. "It is so hard Y/N".

"I know Newt". Nodding, my lips left kisses all over his head and face again, smothering him, "but you are strong enough to face it all, even if it doesn't feel like it right now and sometimes you just got to cry before you can move forward and all of that is ok".

"If you have the courage to make it through a lonely night with nothing but your self destructive thoughts to keep you company, you have the courage to make it through anything". My lips left a gentle kiss on his forehead to reassure him. 

"Remember your proudest and happiest moments, rather than fixating on your flaws", I stroked his cheek and nuzzled our noses together, causing him to giggle, "think of all the lovely moments that happened to you, and put the bad ones behind you".

"Start making peace with yourself, rather than listening to destructive emotions" I grabbed his wrists with the gentlest movements, which had some scars on them. I left kisses here and there. "Seek out new beginnings rather than settling down for unworthy situations".

"Focus on how to improve, rather than on how you messed up" I whispered, and rested my head on top of his as he gently nodded at me, a hint of hope twinkling in his eyes.

For once there was no wall between us, keeping me from getting close to him. It finally broke down just for me, and I could finally get close to his broken soul. 

When I drew away from him, my own smile couldn’t be held down at the sight of seeing a momentary lapse of hope in his eyes, as I gently pressed a few kisses on his knuckles.

"If you are having a rough day place your hand over your heart" my hand closed on his big, tender one as I clenched it and placed it gently on his chest, "feel that?".

"That's called purpose. You're alive for a reason". When I said this to him, I made sure to look deep into his eyes to make sure he understood every word I spoke. "Never give up".

"One day you will tell the story of how you overcame what you went through and it will be someone else's survival guide".

With our hands intertwined, I grinned and pressed a kiss on the tip of his nose. A fully blown, toothy grin appeared on his face, letting his big brown orbs shine.

"Owning your story is the bravest thing you will ever do".

Newt's P.O.V

There are wounds on her that are never shown on her body but are deeper and more hurtful than anything that bleeds.

The fire blazing in her dark and injured heart seemed to glow around her like a flame.

She was not fragile, like a flower. She was fragile, like a bomb.

"You are so incredible". My cheeks warmed faintly at the unexpected burst of wording the thoughts in my head. Her cheeks turned red while she smiled shyly to herself with eyes sparkling brightly, as she cuddled into me. I let out a happy sigh in return as I wrapped my arms gently around her. My heart fluttered in adoration.

Y/N may have grown a callous and hard shell but inside that shell she was a warm and tender heart, and a kind soul.

Being both soft and strong is the most beautiful combination a person can master.

"You've gone through so much Y/N" I whispered, and rested my head on top of hers as we lied there in silence, enjoying our own little bubble, "I don't know how you do it".

My fingers tucked a piece of hair behind her ear, making her even more beautiful than she already is. "I wasn't given a choice".

Biting her lower lip between her teeth she suddenly lowered her head and averted her gaze away from mine. "Y/N?".

"Hmm?" She hummed, before falling silent again.

"You are awfully quiet love" I whispered, and pulled her in for a hug, to which she nuzzled her face into the crook of my neck for a moment. "What's going on in that beautiful mind?".

My lips left a kiss on her shoulder to soothe her.

"I've thought about killing myself about a hundred times Newt" I felt her lips curve against my skin, "but I somehow found myself to be still in love with life".

My heart missed a few pulses from her words.

Moving back away from my embrace, she looked at me with a faint smile before using her little fingers to rub on her watery eyes, wiping the tears before I could even lay my fingers on her skin to do it for her.

My thoughts went blank as I continued to gaze in absolute awe at this beautiful warrior in front of my eyes.

This version of Y/N wasn't built overnight. She had been to the utter depths of hell, through abuse, mistakes, insecurities and heartache, to get to the level she is now.

Behind this strong independent woman today, lied a broken little girl who had to learn how to get back up and to never depend on anyone.  

She was a knight polishing her armour. Carrying her own sword. Fighting her own battles. Making her own glory.

And that was the thing about her, she kept on surviving. With bullet holes in her lungs and knife marks itched in her heart. She never let anything get in her way, resilient.

A fighter, not by choice. But a warrior at heart.

Y/N's P.O.V

Newt leaned towards me and cupped one side of my jaw with his tender hand, his expression softening as his brown, piercing eyes began to sparkle. "Tell me more about it".

"I used to dream about escaping my ordinary life" I started in a quiet tone, and could feel my bottom lip quivering a little, as I kept talking, "but my life was never ordinary to begin with".

"I started to learn to appreciate the little things in life and I noticed that life is a series of thousands of tiny miracles... you just have to see it".

In silence, he pressed his lips gently on my cheek, a smile spread all over his face. "Go on, love". The smile resting over my own lips twitched, spreading into a blown-out grin as our eyes found each other for a long, craving stare.  

"I love to watch the 5am sunrises and 5pm sunsets" I began softly, as he caressed my head with the palm of his hand while he continued to hold me close, "where you'll see colours in the sky that don't usually belong there.

"I love the way the first sip of coffee warms me up in the morning, or the way I feel so cozy and fuzzy when wearing oversized clothes" I told him, causing him to laugh, taking me by surprise, but then let it die down to a chuckle, "I love the smell from baked bread to the earthy scent of the air after a rain shower".

"I love eating breakfast in bed or having an extra half an hour to snooze in bed" I continued but with lots of smiles and giggles, which cheered me up, "or having some time to myself to read a book I love".

"I believe in small gestures" I cooed, and threaded my fingertips along his jawline, where I left a few kisses, "someone making me smile, or holding the door for me or even something simple as a wave of hello".

With dreamy eyes, he continued to gaze.

"I don't pay attention to the world ending anymore" I just shook my head, chuckling to myself, "it ended for me many times and began again in the morning".

Smiling, he pressed a kiss on my head as a comforting smile appeared on my face.  

"We are all a little broken Newt" I murmured gently, cupping his soft cheeks in my hands to which he hummed and nuzzled his face in,"that's how the light gets in".

With bright red cheeks this time, he nodded.

Now grinning myself, I placed my head back on his chest to listen to the familiar beating as I gently grabbed his hands in mine just to press my lips on top of his scars again. "Just promise me to never do this to yourself again".  

"I won't" he promised truthfully as I lifted myself up, only to rest my forehead on his. I felt him radiate heat again, cheeks glowing brightly.

"We have enough in life against us already don't be against yourself" I pressed a kiss on his nose and then nuzzled it with my own, making him grin,"be brave; dare to love the pieces of yourself no one else will ever see".

"Be patient and loving towards yourself" my lips pressed a kiss right on the place where his heart is located, "be the reason for your own smile".

"Embrace who you are" I whispered, and kissed each of his knuckles lovingly, to which he giggled sweetly, as he grabbed a hold of my hand and slid his fingers between mine, "be proud of yourself".

"Be your own hero".

A smile from ear to ear appeared on my own face to the sight of his beautiful face smiling at me, his warm chocolate brown eyes shining brighter than the constellation of stars above us.

Newt didn’t say anything, but his eyes told me more than enough. And along with his smile, bigger than ever before, I knew enough.

In complete silence, we sat there - rocking from side to side. Newt breathed calmly and slow, as if his mind had finally found peace, resting. Our eyes kept staring at each other, drowning in the colours of our irises, heartbeats changing until they were beating on the same rhythm.

Our hands intertwined even more, and something told me they'd be locked for the rest of the night.

[midastouches]

ok just because i know you dont know and i like messing with you: THE END

okay so first off fuck you. two, i wrote this just to mess with you right back. enjoy, bitch.

ask me about my novel in progress!

Her hair was perfectly curled, and for what felt like the eighteenth time in the past 10 years, Andromeda reached towards her bed for a black dress that had never outgrown her. 

She’d been to too many funerals for the dress to fit over her like a second skin, yet here she was shrugging it on, and not a wrinkle to be found. 

The war was over though. And this final funeral had to be the most dazzling yet. It couldn’t even be described as a funeral, Andromeda thought. It seemed more like a celebration. Photos of Estella hung everywhere, from her wedding to her christening as queen. Elani had decorated the place in soft blues and pinks. The harsh red tones of the castle seemed almost dulled into a sunset. 

It would’ve been Jairo’s favorite.

The death of Jairo was no longer such a biting pain, like it was in the second war of the St. Claire Kingdom. It had dulled into a familiar ache, one that occasionally scorched her skin, but she had come to terms with the scar, and the pulls of anger it would bring. 

It also made her happy that Estella was with them now, and they could tell stories of their adventures of maybe, just maybe that ghost of Jairo could finally forgive Aster. 

Aster. 

They’d been dancing around eachother for so long now. She wanted to give in so badly, just let her lips scrape his like they did so long ago when she was constantly overflowing with righteous fury and fear of his father. She just wanted to lay in bed next to him as he whispered to her about the time he met the God Femke, finger twirling in her dark hair against his alabaster skin. The moon kissing the earth. 

The sun and the moon, finally intertwined. Finally everything the Gods wanted in the first place, according to what Aster had told her. 

Andromeda drifts from her room, daydreaming about the man who put countless daggers against her throat, and she is the same. 

The amount of blood they spilled would fill a canvas in the most curious ways, from enemies to friends to lovers for a moment. Regressing back to enemies to not even that, just someone she didn’t recognize.

She still doesn’t let him talk about those five years, when he was at his most cowardly and she was still only driven by the martyrdom of Jairo. Andromeda isn’t sure if she’ll ever be able to find it in herself to forgive him, or herself for all of the words exchanged in that dingy shack, his hair mottled grey and her skin constantly flecked in her own blood from nicks and paper cuts. 

She entered the viewing room still examining the scars on her hands when she almost ran into Aster St. Claire himself. His piercing grey eyes crinkled with familiar lines echoing them as he laughed at her. 

“Oh, Andromeda. Can’t seem to find this universe now, can we?” It was her favorite laugh, one that must’ve made Femke rejoice when they’d heard it the first time, after everything. She hugged him, arms so tight her grunted. She held onto his sleeves as they parted. 

“I’m not sure I’m ready for this,” she said, tone solemn as she looked at the coffin, at someone who had become one of her closest friends. 

Aster shrugged. “It’s the last one.”

“One, too many,” Her eyes narrowed at him.

“I am aware, Andromeda, how many people have died for this.” 

She stiffened. Aster had never been able to fully comprehend either his mother or his fathers death. Almost twleve years later and he still can’t bring up Zain’s. 

And she had killed two of those people with nothing but anger and a silver sword. Both in color and the stained blood. 

“I’m sorry,” she whispered. Aster relaxed his tense shoulders, unclenched his jaw. 

She dragged her arm down from his sleeve to his ring-laden hand. Their fingers immediately intertwined in comfort and he all but dragged her to the redwood coffin, to match the castle color. 

“She’s probably mocking us right now,” Aster smirked. “Wouldn’t have wanted this done at all. She’d been telling me for ages that if she ever died in battle, all she wanted was to be cremated and let her ashes flow with the southern wind.”

“Elani would never do that.”

“Percislehy why she’s right there,” he gestured, almost crudely, to the coffin. Estella, as the cliche goes, looked asleep. Her light blonde hair was plaited into two braids forming a crown around her head. SHe was wearing her reception gown, a light pink silk thing that had sparked gossip for days. 

Well, Andromeda thought, the wedding itself sparked never ending gossip as well, but the fashion was really top tier. 

Her and Aster continued to look at her. 

“Should we say something?” Andromeda whispered. 

Aster cocked his head, dwelling on it. Without answering her, he just started talking. 

“Hey, Stella. Gods, I always thought I would die before you.” Andromeda winced at his opening statement. “Anyway, I know we haven’t been able to talk a lot since everything went down, war in my kingdom, war on yours, but even still, we were family, every single step on the way. Even for the moment we were bethrothed, you were more my sister than everything else. You’ve done everything for me. I can’t believe that this is the way you were rewarded. You deserved a long life, happily married to Elani. I just want you to know, that I know what we talked about, and I know what you said, and in the wake of your death, that I should follow what you say, but this is my last act of rebellion to piss you off I guess. Give my brother a punch in the face up there, would ya? If he’s up there.” Aster broke off on the last line, eyes completely vacant. 

Andromeda knew immediately where he had gone too. Femke’s visit haunted him as well as amazed him, and what had haunted him was the fate of his mother and father. Femke had never disclosed where his brother had ended up though, so Aster had no idea whether he was in paradise or purgatory. 

Andromeda prayed more than once that Zain had ended up in paradise. She’d never told Aster. As far as he was concerned, she still never prayed. 

Her faith was not in a God, but for a man who once had the whole world on his shoulders, and still chose to follow her in the end, and not cave in on all his fears. 

She may pray to Femke, but she still mouths Aster right after. Still alive. Maybe hers. Could be hers, if she just says something. He made his piece to hers, and now it was her turn. 

Aster nudged her. “You wanna say something?”

She shook her head. “I already did.” Her smile was more forced, and her eyes were brimming with tears, but she couldn’t find it in herself to disclose her soul to Estella. Not when Estella already knew what she would say anyway. 

“You were the one who suggested it.”

“It was more for you than me,” she said. 

Aster sighed, and dragged her along. “We need to talk.” 

“I agree.”