“I was at the end of every tether, waiting for what once was.” - Her’s
To a human being, living is truly the longest thing you’ll ever do. Everyday ticks on, every moment bleeds into the next; the fabric of your life is sewn by the seamstress of fate until the day you meet her in person, and you feel every last thread she wove.
To salty, human life is the shortest thing he’ll never grasp. Every waking moment, he is aware of your mortality. Even every sleeping moment. He’s ever so painfully aware of just how easy it truly is- one single prick of the needle and your sent to see your seamstress.
It delighted him in the beginning. Only a few decades and he was free again, free of humans and their rules. Of their disappointments- and of their disapproval.
That was before he knew you, before he grew to understand you. Once he had, it terrified him. He could recover from anything, yet you were the one going headfirst into every challenge. It grew in him a morbid curiosity, how could you do this? Were you not as aware as he was? How could you live as if a single trip in the wrong place at the wrong time could cut your life short?
“You don’t have to worry salty.”
“But I do, it frustrates me that you don’t worry. You are not indestructible!”
You laughed, his knee jerk feeling was to suspect it was a mocking laugh, but he knew better than that now.
“You didn’t fall in love with someone who lives every waking moment in fear, did you? Can you imagine how much a downer it’d be on date night?”
Again, the casual retorts irked him to no end. Your life was not trivial, it was worth more to him than anything. You could sense his displeasure in his dead stare and pursed lips.
“Listen, salty. I’m happy that you care this much about me. Really. I worry about your safety too, even if I don’t have to.”
“You don’t.” He scoffed.
“Mmmhm.” you rolled your eyes, “and yet, I worry. But not enough to limit you. I know that danger is apart of your life. I hope that one day, you can accept that danger is also apart of mine.”
“Danger from ridiculous sources.” He crossed his arms.
“And danger none the less. Human life is fickle.” You reached for his hand, he gave it- almost too quickly. “I know you worry because you love me. You also have to accept that loving me, means losing me.”
He frowned, narrowing his eyes. You continued.
“One day, no matter from what, I will not be with you anymore. You know this. But you don’t want to feel ok with it.”
“Why would I ever want to feel ok with that?” He retorted indignantly.
“Because it’s part of the deal with liking a human, salty. If one day I’m hurt, sick, old, any of the above- I don’t want to have to worry about you feeling left behind.”
He teetered his jaw side to side, seemingly chewing on the thought. You sighed, looking forward, before opening your arms out, to which he accepted. You could feel how he squeezed a bit tighter than he had to, careful to avoid hurting you.
“I will never leave you behind, salty. But one day, I am going to have to go. I won’t want to, ever. As long as I live, you’re stuck with me. But…” he squeezed tighter. “But that isn’t very long. Not compared to your life.”
The conversation ended there. From his silence, and the way his hands grasped your shirt, you knew he’d had enough of the thought.
He thought long and hard about what you’d said that day. It was true, but why did you sound so matter of fact? How were you not distraught? How could you just accept that one day, you will not exist anymore?
But one day, when he was watching as you drove and sang along to one of his old rock playlists, speeding a just a little bit over the limit while drumming the wheel, he began to understand.
Every waking moment he’s aware of the danger to you, and every waking moment, so are you. And so, why worry? Why fret over something that’s inevitable?
You drove and drummed along, barely paying him any mind. One day this would be a cherished memory to him, one that he looks back upon with equal amounts of sadness as it is happiness. One day, you will be a memory. A somebody, and yet a body that does not exist.
But you aren’t right now. Right now he can reach over and flick your head when he catches you spacing out, he can pretend to bite a finger when you give him your hand, he can feel the smile on your lips as you peck at his cheeks.
He reaches over to lace a hand with yours, tapping his index finger on your hand along to the music. You look over, giving him a beaming smile.
One day, this was gonna hurt. But it doesn’t right now, and maybe that’s what makes it worth it.
“After tormenting myself for a long time, I am stopping.” - Franz Kafka.
Raindrop was never the best at emotions.
Not in the way in which you’d create a zinc casket and bury them in concrete, but in the way he’d let them keep hitting him like a freight train. Raindrop never let himself stop feeling, not for a single second.
It tended to be the only thing he could identify with. He was the sad one. The unapproachable one. The one who needed your support at all times. The one passers would grimace at, thanking every god they were not in his shoes- at least, that’s how he tended to read their eyes.
Raindrop felt and he felt and he felt, and now he could barely separate his feelings of misery from his personhood.
You could say many things about raindrop, tell him he is not his misery, that nothing he did ever warranted his emotional mutilation. It chipped at his mind, the idea of being worthy was something kept under his tongue- something you desperately wanted him to chew on.
He wondered why you ever tried, sometimes. Vocalized it daily. To the point where instead of desperately listing reasons why you cared for him, your answer was always a curt, “I don’t need a reason.” It always left him speechless.
But right here, when you enter your shared home and are greeted by his almost smiling face, when he senses your struggle to keep calm, when he guides your head gently to his lap and thumbs the quickly developing tears from your eyes- you know the reason.
You know the reason when his voice cracks as he asks if you’d like to hear of his day, a day filled with preening roses and watering lilies. You know the reason when you feel how carefully his hands move across your shoulder, adjusting you to make sure you’d have no soreness in your rest. You know the reason when he takes a deep breath, you can feel the shake in his lungs as he does so.
Raindrop cake never stops feeling, and he never stops feeling for you. With you. To see you in such a state brings him to his knees, and as miserable as he forces himself to be, he will always try for you. He will never be able to unlink himself from you, as just as his sadness has become a part of him, so have you.
He has felt for himself for so long, how strange an emotion it is to instead feel for someone else.
Short list to read before requesting, if requests are open. Thank you!
What I don’t write for:
• beast/incest/pedo
• kinks like water sports, vomit, etc. I’m not judging, it’s just def not my kink.
• character x character. Totally cool with it, I’m just not interested in shipping honestly.
• male/amab reader nsfw. I straight up just don’t know what I’m doing lmao. I will write male reader sfw at request tho!
If you have a certain request you’re not sure I’ll take for any reason, send me a question in the inbox and I’ll be as respectful as I can in answering.
General requesting rules:
• no more than 3 characters at a time
• requests given when inbox is closed will not be answered.
