Michael Kaiser & Alexis Ness; A little bit different, but I saw a tweet talking about Ness's hair looking like a wilted rose and got inspired (plus I LOVE Blue Lock)
Warnings?: Michael Kaiser, Slight BLLK chapter 288 spoilers :D
Flowers were such fickle things; they required water, but never too much, and sunlight, but it couldn’t be too direct. One misstep in their care—a moment too much or too little—and they would succumb to wilting, their vibrant colors fading into a dull, lifeless whisper. This delicate choreography of demands was precisely why he loathed tending to them.
But watching them bloom was nothing short of enchanting. It was perhaps the singular thing he truly cherished about flowers. He adored witnessing the delicate petals unfurl, revealing a symphony of vibrant colors that danced in the sunlight.
Each blossom exuded a sweet, intoxicating fragrance that seemed to wrap around him like a warm embrace. In his eyes, there was no other reason to love flowers; they embodied a captivating magic that transformed the ordinary into the extraordinary.
Roses were his absolute favorite, enchanting him with their dazzling array of colors, each hue whispering myriad meanings. To Alexis Ness, roses were far more than mere flowers; they were a profound symbol of beauty and resilience wrapped in delicate petals yet veiled by their menacing thorns.
Ness adored them above any other flower he’d seen, willing to endure any sting if it meant he could witness the spectacular transformation of those buds as they unfurled into vibrant shades that burst forth like fireworks against the bleak, magicless tapestry of the world he inhabited.
Each bloom was a celebration, a vivid contrast to the monochrome existence surrounding him. It filled his heart with hope that flickered even in the darkest corners of his life. He yearned to see more of the magic in life, the same magic that roses granted him.
Each time Ness mustered the courage to share his dreams, he was met with a torrent of ridicule as insults rained down upon him like stones. His mind was a vibrant tapestry woven with threads of magic, filled with enchanting tales of wizards casting spells and fairies dancing in moonlit glades—visions that existed solely within the depths of his imagination.
His brother and sister, oblivious to the wonders that captivated him, would mock him relentlessly, their laughter echoing in his ears as they dismissed his beliefs as mere childish fantasies, leaving him feeling more isolated in his whimsical world.
Was it so strange to harbor dreams that felt like vibrant constellations in the night sky? Perhaps he was misplaced, a solitary star adrift in a family of pragmatic scientists whose minds were anchored in reason and empirical evidence. They rarely acknowledged the allure of magic, the enchanting possibilities that danced just beyond the veil of the ordinary.
In quiet moments, he wrestled with doubt, questioning whether the fault lay within him. Would it truly be so painful to reshape himself, to don the cloak of conformity and mold his essence to meet their expectations? Heavy like unspoken words, the thought lingered as he contemplated the cost of surrendering his dreams.
Ness yearned to uncover the magic that dwelled within the world around him, the same enchantment he perceived in the vibrant blooms of flowers swaying gently in the breeze. The memory of his first encounter with true magic had grown faint over time, but it resurged vividly when he turned eight years old and stumbled upon the exhilarating game of soccer.
The moment Ness felt the cool, textured surface of the ball beneath his foot and propelled it forward with a well-aimed kick, a rush of freedom surged through him. It was as if he had unlocked a secret sanctuary, a hidden realm where he could momentarily escape the weight of his family's ridicule and sharp-tongued insults.
The soccer field transformed into a magical oasis, where each goal represented a point scored and a triumph over the suffocating shadows of disapproval. In that space, surrounded by the joyous laughter of friends and the thrill of the game, Ness discovered a boundless joy that enveloped him like a warm embrace, filling him with hope and a sense of belonging. Soccer, to him, was pure magic.
His deep-rooted desire to defy his parents' expectations became the fiery fuel driving his every move. Ness longed more than anything to silence their doubts and show that he wasn’t foolish for believing in the existence of magic.
To him, soccer represented the first crucial step on his journey to self-validation. With every kick of the ball and every sprint across the field, he poured his heart and soul into the game, channeling his passion and determination into each moment.
Bastard München marked his second pivotal step on a journey filled with longing and anticipation. Within the chaotic disarray of the soccer pitch, Ness first laid eyes on the mesmerizing blue rose, a symbol of the magic he had yearned to witness for what felt like an eternity.
This enchanting bloom represented more than just beauty; it embodied his desire to nurture, safeguard, and witness the flourishing of something extraordinary. As he gazed upon it, the rose took on a new form—one that captured his heart and imagination—manifesting itself in the captivating figure of Michael Kaiser.
In Michael Kaiser, Ness saw every ounce of magic he’d been searching for. He craved it; he wanted to see everything, to make Kaiser the greatest the world had ever seen, and to share the magic Kaiser had with the rest of the world. Maybe then…then his family would believe in such things as magic.
Ness immersed himself entirely in the pursuit of elevating Kaiser to unprecedented heights. He meticulously fine-tuned every aspect of Kaiser’s training and performance with unwavering dedication, orchestrating a relentless regimen that left little room for anything else.
Day after day, Ness relinquished his own dreams and passions, pouring every ounce of his energy into nurturing Kaiser’s burgeoning talent on the field. The vibrant hues of Ness's own aspirations dulled as he dedicated himself entirely to the pursuit of Kaiser’s greatness, becoming a silent guardian in the background, sacrificing his identity to uplift another.
Each decision he made echoed with a singular focus: achieving glory for Kaiser. In that pursuit, Ness found the flames of his identity flickering dangerously low, fading into the background of his unwavering devotion. It no longer mattered to him whether he existed in the spotlight; his sense of self was wholly eclipsed by the brilliance he yearned to ignite in Kaiser.
It felt like pure bliss, enveloping Ness in a warmth that transcended the boundaries of the pitch. Being with Kaiser, both in the heat of competition and in moments of quiet companionship, was nothing short of a dream come true. It was as if he could call Kaiser his own—a cherished treasure.
In his mind, Kaiser transformed into a radiant rose, tenderly nurtured by Ness's unwavering care. Each day, he watched in awe as this rose unfurled its delicate petals, a symbol of growth and beauty that filled Ness with an unparalleled sense of pride. He sat there steadfast, watering the rose of Kaiser with love and dedication, basking in the sunlight of their shared moments, knowing that his efforts were finally bearing fruit.
Or he thought they were. Ness didn’t know where his mistakes came from; he was usually so perfect getting the ball to Kaiser. Yet, as his plays began to grow increasingly predictable, the precision of his passes faltered. Ness could feel the weight of the moment bearing down on him, his chest rising and falling with each anxious breath as he listened intently to the unmistakable scuff of the turf beneath Kaiser’s cleats, the sound echoing like a drumbeat as the striker approached Ness.
Ness felt a twinge of anticipation as he glanced at Kaiser, half-expecting him to wave away his concerns with a reassuring smile, to confidently declare that it was just a minor setback and that the next chance at glory would undoubtedly come their way.
At that moment, Ness craved that certainty from Kaiser more than anyone else—above teammates, coaches, and even his own inner doubts. As long as Kaiser offered him that solid promise of assurance, a conviction that they would rise together from this fleeting disappointment, then Ness would find a way to steady his own faltering spirit.
“Hey, Ness?” Kaiser’s voice flowed into Ness’s ears like a melodious symphony, each note infused with the promise of reassurance he so desperately craved. At that moment, hope flickered to life within him—everything felt as though it were on the brink of perfect resolution. Kaiser was about to unveil a meticulously crafted plan, one that only the two of them could execute with precision and flair. But then, the unexpected fell upon Ness like a sudden storm, “Give up on soccer.”
The words enveloped Ness's mind like a thick fog, suffocating him. Kaiser couldn’t possibly be serious, could he? Ness desperately clung to that hope, yet the pure disgust etched on Kaiser’s face as he glared down at him spoke volumes. In that piercing gaze, Ness felt the weight of his worthlessness—reduced to nothing more than a mere pawn meant for Kaiser’s game.
If he couldn’t even fulfill that singular purpose, what was the point of his existence on the field? The thought gnawed at him, a gnawing void where his sense of value used to be. Maybe Kaiser was right, maybe it was time for Ness to hang up his jersey and just, forget magic existed.
Ness had held the delicate bud for what felt like an eternity, nurturing it with care until it transformed into the striking bloom that was Kaiser. In that moment, he almost forgot how unpredictable flowers could be—how they could thrive one day and wilt the next.
It was then that he noticed the vivid blue rose once more, beneath Kaiser’s feet as he walked away from Ness, its petals unfurling gracefully in the soft light. The rose had been a constant companion, steadfast and unwavering, much like a loyal dog devoted to its master, lingering faithfully at Kaiser’s side.
Ness had nearly lost sight of an important lesson: when flowers are planted too closely together, only a single bloom can truly thrive. In their desperate struggle for survival, one flower would seize the nutrients, overshadowing its neighbors and leaving them to wither away.
In this garden of life, the strongest emerged victorious, basking in the sunlight while the weaker, choked by the competition, succumbed to the shadows. This was a stark reminder of nature’s harsh decree—a poignant dance of resilience and fragility in which only the most robust flourished and the delicate faded into obscurity.
Ness was a wilting rose, fragile and weary, standing in the shadow of someone far more formidable. He had chosen to place himself next to this towering figure, drawn in by their strength and confidence. Now, however, he found himself grappling with the consequences of his own naivety, feeling the weight of his misguided choices pressing heavily upon him.
While Kaiser got to bloom, Ness was left behind, a stepping stone, a pawn…Someone used to do nothing but provide Kaiser with ‘nutrients’ to grow, all because Ness craved to see magic.
His parents were right, his brother and sister were both right, everyone was right. Ness was an utter moron for believing in something as stupid as magic.
Now, he had to live forgotten, curshed under Kaiser's feet, as a wilted rose...
Shout out Mitski for getting me through this one, I hate Michael Kaiser and spent a good 30 minutes staring at a picture of him to insult him before I kept writing.
dededos
gummygunk
stormborns
annaxmalina
jbbartram-illu
vaporwave
ellievsbear
dailybridgerton
titsay
origamiaround
kaledo-art
