— Grief never got easier, and Simon found every thought of you consuming him.
🐻 Something short again! It’s raining hard and it got me in a really angst mood, stay safe everyone who’s experiencing the typhoon too!
— This work is deeply inspired by Lizzy's "Doomsday."
“ God loves you,
But not enough to save you. ”
What does it take to love, and what do you lose from it? Is it worth the hollow feeling it leaves you? Was it always this way?
The question never eased, and Simon found every little thing about romance repulsive. He'd already hated the notion of it before,
But now he thinks he loathes it.
What's the point in all of that if it just comes down to this?
This, whatever he would call it, that consuming feeling, like he's forgotten how to live before you.
Like you had always been a part of his life, a part of him, and now that things suddenly turn for the worst, he feels lost.
Lost is an understatement. He doesn't even feel alive. Did you take crucial parts of him with you? If so, why? Was that necessary?
He wonders if he'd just gotten so accustomed to you that he doesn't feel complete with your absence hanging in the air, or if you'd simply taken so much of him, leaving him with not much but his body.
“Might be a lil bit busy right now! Call me again in a bit, you can leave a message, though!”
He dials your number for the fifth time, or fiftieth? Whichever it was, he dialled it enough in hopes of engraving your voice at the top of his head. He did it so much he's convinced, he’s only capable of responding to your voice now,
Not that it wasn't the case already, it totally was. Has always been.
The laughter before the voicemail cuts off was the part he liked the most. His lips tug upwards a little. You've always had a contagious laugh.
Even at your death, you manage to steal a smile from him.
Pathetic.
He thinks to himself, wallowing in self hatred. Not understanding why it's taking this long to man up and get over it.
“Grief is a complicated thing, but one day, you'll look back to everything and be glad you allowed yourself to heal.”
Heal?
He doesn't want to heal.
If healing means no longer recognising the sound of your voice, the certain way you smiled, the feel of your touch, your scent, or the specific hues of your eyes.
He feared he wouldn't ever accept healing.
If healing means living without you, he would rather keep hurting himself by reliving the memories from when your absence didn't exist.
Every thought that ran around his head would somehow involve you and your doomed faith. You always taught him how to find positivity in things, but how could he dig something positivity in your absence?
The thoughts of your voice, the stories you would tell him, the house, the plans. Suddenly they're reduced to memories, and he doesn't quite know how to feel about that.
“My mom would say the stars were our loved ones that had already passed.” You laugh, “Do you think I'd be a bright star one day?”
The brightest one, certainly,
He'd have preferred it if you never needed to become a star at all. He'd have preferred it if you just remained admiring those stars with him, in his arms, not all the way up there, too far from his reach.
Is there a possibility you heard his cries? If he cried loud enough would you hear him and consider coming back?
Maybe you will.
You always said your love for him knows no bounds,
But does that still stand now? When he’s the only one breathing between the two of you?
He had already felt he was going insane when he saw your figure on his way back home, calling out your name and chasing you, only to see it was a stranger.
Of course it is, he knew it wasn't you, but there's a part of him that hoped to meet your eyes when that person turned around.
“Might be a lil bit busy right now! Call me again in a bit, you can leave a message, though!”
He calls you again, as if expecting the other line to click and for him to hear you greet him. To make fun of him for calling so much,
God, he hoped, he hoped desperately you would.
Thoughtlessly, his hand reached for his shirt that you would often wear. Bringing it close to him, taking in the remnant of your scent. It's barely there, but it's there, and it can suffice.
His finger hovering over the call button once more, to hear you speak, to hear you laugh.
— Loving him comes with a life-threatening consequence, perhaps you’ll choose yourself after all.
🐻 This is a short Au I wrote and posted on tiktok a while back. For those unfamiliar with the Hanahaki disease, it's a fictional disease in which the victim coughs up flower petals when they suffer from one-sided love. Enjoy!
— This work is inspired by the song "Waltz of four left feet", specifically the lyrics that translates to "Maybe I won't die if I'm unable to hold your hand."
You knew the disease was slowly eating your life away,
Each petal that grows inside of you, and all of them that comes out of your mouth are just another reminder of your unrequited feelings.
You had to take the treatment.
That also means letting go of the memories, the euphoria he made you feel, the love you had for him like no other, you'd have to set him free from the grasp of your nonexistent entanglement.
You had to let him go,
But how can you let go of someone you never had in the first place?
With one heavy sigh, you made your decision. Choosing yourself, choosing to let go of whatever you had for him,
The flowers on your lungs feel as if they're thorns, piercing through your heart as you thought of choosing yourself over him.
You'd enter that building overflowing with admiration and love for him; risking your life as you do so, though you'll exit that building with no recollection of what you'd once had for him.
Forgetting the way you'd recognize his scent everywhere, letting go of the orphic intensity of looking into his eyes,
Forgetting how his voice made your heart leap.
You wished there was a way for you to love him silently, without having to risk your life. And without having to set him free in order to live,
You wondered why you couldn't love him silently.
Why did you have to suffer such cruelty just by loving him? Either way, you chose yourself.
That once electric feeling you had for when your eyes meet has vanished, leaving you nothing but indifference.
You looked at him and felt nothing.
⎯⎯ㅤㅤִㅤㅤ୨⠀♡⠀୧ㅤㅤִ⠀⠀⎯⎯
he pants,
Gasping for air as he gripped his throat, hoping to stop the petals which fell from his mouth.
Where did this start?
Ah, when he looked into your eyes,
They weren't the same, they held nothing.
He closed his tear painted eyes shut as he continued to cough, feeling petals escape his mouth inevitably.
— A series of distasteful yet beautiful memories come rushing back to your mind when you move to your brand new apartment. A lot of them laced to your past lover.
🐻 been a while since I've written here! Here's a short angst I scribbled down earlier :) Follow my tt for other works! ( @sickuma )
— This work is heavily inspired by Niki's song, "The Apartment We Won't share." And Taylor's "loml" ౨ৎ. ݁ ˖
“The door would have a fuckass curtain that would tangle to me everytime I enter the place, then there’ll be you waiting to greet me.”
Certainly.
You stare at it. The said curtain, as if it's staring back at you with glaring motives. It's there now, that stupid curtain, but for what?
It hasn't been a week since you moved to a new place. The place. Getting this specific apartment at this specific area wasn't as easy as you anticipated it to be, but here you are now after three years.
A sense of fulfillment was surely felt on your part but of course the lingering thoughts simmered in your mind, like a plague, refusing to let you enjoy this moment,
Whoever made it this hard to move on?
“The entire place would have dimmed lights—”
"Because white lights reminded you of hospitals.” You finish his sentence, whispering it quietly under your breath.
It didn't occur to you that every crevice of the place was exactly as you planned it, the two of you.
The small potted plants by the window, the mugs in different colours, even the daybed placed exactly at the living room, because the two of you would often fall asleep watching the television.
Every corner of this place reeks of him.
The coffee cups you wouldn't share, the singular blanket he wouldn't hog, the two towels that hang at the bathroom wall, the books you won't force him to read, and the space he wouldn't occupy.
Everything about the place was consuming, too consuming.
You're unsure if the right emotion to feel at this moment was shame or pride, whichever it was, it isn't enough to fill the grasping hole in your chest.
Everything seems to be here,
The cat you both talked about, the trinkets that sat at the shelves, the stories you anticipated to tell,
At the same time, it felt as of nothing was here at all.
Somehow, despite his absence, all the things that stayed in your life remained with a piece of him.
Everything waits for his nonexistent arrival,
The daughter you won't raise still waits for him, the stories to tell your daughter remain untold, and that daughter wouldn't ever know this world, nor the name of her father, which remains cold.
Everything resides in your heart, as if urging it to wilt with him.
“I'll wake up to you every morning, get up before you, and prepare you breakfast before we start our boring days.”
You pass by the kitchen, turning off the lights. Sitting beside your cat by the edge of the bed. Taking in the apartment, and every piece of him that plagued the place.
‹𝟹 Simon Riley x f!Reader angst
‹𝟹 masterlist
‹𝟹 silly wip I randomly thought of | You passed right after giving birth to your child with him, weirdly enough you find yourself stuck. witnessing him fall back in love with another as your daughter recognizes his new muse as her mother, leaving you in the shadows of acceptance.
—She was all but a tiny baby when you last held her, so small and vulnerable. That moment was fleeting, you felt them place her on top of you, allowing you to feel her against your body for the first time. It truly was beautiful, short-lived yet you treasure it the most.
You crouch in front of her, watching her with a satisfied grin as she continued to play by herself. Without her knowledge you watch over her, not just occasionally, but every time. If you weren't laying beside your husband, admiring him and reminiscing of what's lost, you would be near your daughter, watching over her and making sure she's happy and smiling,
not that you can change much, your ability as a spirit is limited. Everything was taken away from you the moment you took your last breath, leaving her and your husband all alone to fend for themselves. And as if passing away wasn't cruel enough, you found yourself still in the living realm,
you witnessed everything, the way he mourned for you, the nights he grieved and cried for you, the moments he held her helplessly, crying and hysterically begging for you to come back, you were there to witness it all unfold. You watched as your husband struggled to look at your daughter without being reminded of you, you watch him slowly lose himself with you, you watched him carry all the burden,
of course, you were also there to watch her build him back up.
you stood from one spot, watching her fill the gap you left. watching her mend the family you started, watching her live all the life you could've had. It's safe to say that hurts more than dying itself,
watching her be able to hold your daughter in her arms, whisper soothing words into her ear as a mother would, as you would if you were still alive and breathing. You watched her capture both the hearts of your once broken husband and your sweet daughter.
you can't help but envy her, the life she has. you couldn't erase the pain and jealousy you felt each time you'd see him look at her how he used to look at you. most importantly, watch your daughter look at her how she would have looked at you,
it destroyed you, and yet you can't hate her nor hold any grudge against her. but why? she's living the life you wished you have?
She's such an angel, she's such a wonderful partner and an even better mother. How could you bring yourself to hate her? when she catered to your husband's needs and cradled your daughter when she'd cry in discomfort at night.
she completed the family you started,
as you watch in the corner with a bittersweet smile.
"she takes care of them just fine." you smile, looking at how perfect they are beside one another. It's truly a sight that holds happiness,
Hello, this maybe kinda out of the fiction you always write. But can i ask for some doctor x reader fanfiction? Make it angst please, i will pay for my therapy bills!! 😁😁😁
PATIENT AT ROOM 224
— a Miguel O'hara fiction.
❱ The first actual request ill cover! I have a few lined up but I wanted to do this one first since I got the idea^^ tysm for the request <3 I hope this is to your liking (●'◡'●)
Also if some things don't make sense, I barely know things about hospitals pardon me, I'm 15 and have yet to learn more about such gaahhh this one is pretty long!
ꜝ？ Warning. . angst! mentions of chronic illness, death, and such.
﹟paring | doctor Miguel x patient reader
➴ SYNOPSIS — You suffer from an illness without a cure, and your doctor Miguel tries hard to fasten the pace of formulating that cure. Time is not in your favor, you have one wish and it's to see the ocean for the last time. Along with your goodbyes, he revealed a confession.
NEPENTHE — (n.) An ancient Greek word, nepenthe is defined as a medicine for sorrow. It is a place, person, or thing, which can aid in forgetting your pain and suffering.
It’s been four years,
Four years since the hospital became your home, four years since this became your reality. Exactly four years since you’ve been a prisoner of your own health, in constant risk of losing your life. It took a while to accept, but four years have passed, and you knew there was nothing else you can do but sit and wait for the inevitable.
A part of you never let go of that speck of hope,
Maybe you still have a chance, maybe you can still live. You want to live. Despite being quiet and accepting of your situation, the fear was undeniably there, and it grows every day. You don't want to die, you’re scared, it’s frightening.
It seems you’re not the only one feeling that way,
In front of you stood your doctor, Miguel. He’s been in charge of you for years now, he’s been there since the very beginning. It’s starting to feel like he’s the only person you have ever since your family seldom visited. He had a nonchalant disposition, a permanent scowl on his face, and yet he feels homely.
“vitals are stable,” he spoke flatly, scribbling something on his paper. He had the glasses he wears on certain occasions, looking serious as always.
On most days he’s kept to himself, and on some rare occasions, he would speak to you. Things that aren't needed for your health, basic conversations that brought your head out of your wilting life. You appreciated that, knowing he isn't the type to converse or talk about personal topics. You always notice how his eyes look when he’d lay them on you,
Sorrowful? You’re unsure. But there’s definitely a hint of sadness in them, the type of look someone gives when they need to get something off their chest as if he needed to say something urgent. He never does.
“How are you feeling?” he asks, placing his clipboard down the table. Looking at you expectantly, his tone was gentler, softer, something his colleagues would find unusual.
You smile at him like you always do, which he always found pleasant. “Just like the usual.”
“No aches? How about your difficulty with breathing?”
“None.” you lie,
You know it’s stupid to be lying to your own doctor but the last time you told him about it, he looked destroyed. You find out he didn't sleep a wink that week, checking the lab and giving them consistent assistance in finding the cure. Breathing isn't that hard—you've grown used to it. You didn't want to cause him that state ever again. You're aware of your condition, and you can almost predict what the future will be, there was no need to stress him out more than he already is.
He looked at you, searching for any signs of lies only for you to chuckle at him. Stifling a laugh which actually made it difficult to breathe, but that didn't matter. “I’m feeling great.”
He sighed, taking his glasses off to massage his temple. “Are you okay?” you ask, tilting your head slightly.
“Just worried.” you smile at his response, it’s nice to know someone cares enough to worry for you. But surely he’s only doing it for the sake of his job, it’s his duty to worry for you, still it felt nice.
“Do you think I’ll ever see the ocean again? I want to visit the beach, is there a chance?” you drift the subject subtly. It was your turn to look at him expectantly, for a brief moment he had a look of guilt, you know well why. “If I can, I want to see the ocean again.”
“Soon,” he mumbles, turning away from you to open a drawer. “You just—I’ll take you there. When things get a little loose, I’ll take you to see the ocean.”
“You will?”
He was shaken, stumped but he can't let you see that. Gathering what’s left of his solace, solace which you've been providing for the last few years. "We'll see the ocean."
"That's a promise."
The reason why he’s so gentle with you, why he sugarcoats the rough truth as much as he can, why he promises you such things, he doesn’t know why. With you he feels a sense of solace, was it when you speak? The sound of your voice? that mellow look in your eyes? What is it? Countless sleepless nights were earned simply because he tries to find the answer, no matter how much he distances himself to do his job properly and realistically,
You would always be sitting up on that bed, glancing up at him with your tired expectant eyes accompanied by the gentlest smile he has ever come across with. Before he knows it, he’s promising you a cure that probably won't be formulated until a few years. Until you’re not able to wake anymore.
“Rest up, I’ll do another test tomorrow.”
“Do you really promise?” you pry, looking up at him with a smile. A genuine one.
“Yeah, I promise.”
﹐
“The patient at room 224, [name] right?” another doctor spoke from behind him, stopping him dead in his tracks, hearing your name. “Their vitals. It wasn't stable.”
“You’re lying to them, Miguel.”
Miguel breathes in, turning to look at the owner of the voice. His gentle complexion faded away, replaced by his common scowl. “How long will you foolishly wait for this cure?”
"It takes years, Miguel. Centuries even, to formulate a cure, you of all people know that." the man spoke with worry, Miguel knew he was only concerned and yet he felt almost enraged.
"I don't remember asking for your opinion."
"This isn't about opinions. That person, they're suffering. God, we need to let them rest, we have the family's wish." argued the man, he now had a frown on his face clearly unsure of Miguel’s intentions. “You’re letting their weak heart grasp on a false hope.”
"What about their wish?" he was angry, and he expressed it freely. “The family’s wish? The same family who barely visited them?”
He breathes in his frustration, he can't afford to lose his cool. Especially now that you're in a terrible state.
His colleague was silenced. Looking at him with hesitance.
"Why are you insisting so much? You're a doctor, they're your patient. You have a duty."
"That duty is to protect and keep them alive," Miguel interjects, he’s had enough of this argument, he hated it. He hated how right his colleague was, and yet he choose to be stubborn. "They want to live."
"And I'll make sure of that."
"You have never been this determined for a patient, especially when you know full well what the outcome will be." he waved his hand upwards, stressed at Miguel’s foolish antics "It's inevitable. It's a chronic illness for God's sake."
For the first time, he's stumped, he doesn't have the answer. All he knows is that he wants to keep you alive, he needs to keep you alive,
For your sake or his?
He stares at you, lying on the bed just as you've been for half of the year. Exhaustion is evident even with your sleeping form, Your life was faltering, you know it, He knows it. And yet for some reason, it's a fact he can't accept. For years of his profession, not once has he cared this much for a person.
It was more than that.
For years of working in this hospital, not once has he been fazed over a patient's condition. No matter how heartless that sounded, he never cared to this extent.
Yet the idea of putting you down hunts him. The idea of putting you down as if you're some sort of animal without control over your own life, without a say in your own life. It taunts him,
To the point he struggles to sleep, often staying up to check up on the cure's status. Staying up worrying about the passing time,
"If I can, I want to see the ocean again."
His eyes squint in conflict, memories of your sorrowful wish passing through his mind. If he could show you the ocean, he would. If he could show you the world you missed out on, he would. You deserved it, more than anyone, you deserved everything he can give.
He felt enraged, not because of the workload he has to push through. But for not knowing why it hurts him so much to witness you wilt, he feels confused and conflicted. The growing ache in his heart adding up to his stress,
“I'll talk to them tomorrow Miguel.” his colleague decided sternly, “ill tell them the truth and they will decide. You can watch but you can’t oppose.”
He walks away, leaving Miguel before he could even respond or disagree. Frustration surges through him though it can't compare to how helpless he felt. This was his only way of helping you, even that can get taken away, it feels like a stab in the throat. Slamming his office door shut, he sat on the chair, palming his face. “fuck.”
﹐
“What's happening here?”
Miguel spoke with a perplexed look, there were about 4 people inside your room. Papers in their hands. While you laid on the bed, signing the papers obediently, looking even weaker than the day before. “Miguel!”
You greet him with that stupid smile you always have, why were you smiling? Miguel could feel his nerves rise, seeing all the people and how they looked at him with fright.
“[name] what’s this?” he looks at you, pushing through the people to draw near you.
“They're fixing the documents for the euthanasia.”
He didn't open his mouth to speak for a few minutes, gathering enough strength and making sure he heard you correctly. “Get the hell out.”
He didn't need to repeat it, a man took the signed papers from you and everyone left the room shortly. Leaving you with an angry man who used to be the gentle Miguel who visited you daily to promise you a better life.
“Why?”
He asks. He knew he was acting out of line as your doctor. But at this moment he wasn't your doctor, he was Miguel. The man who soothes your sleepless nights, the man who sticks with you even off duty, the only man who cared enough. He didn't say anything else, he simply looked at you with disappointment and sadness,
“They told me the pain only gets worse from here,” you humor a laugh. “If there's a worse pain than what i have right now, I don't think—I can only imagine what that would be like.”
“You didn't wanna die.” he interrupts, a frown evidently shown on his face. “You told me, you're scared.”
He looked almost devastated, well he is. It was obvious just from the look of his eyes, he wanted you to answer, and he wanted you to answer truthfully.
You breathe in, the smile falling soon enough. “I know, I am, I really am scared.”
“But I've been—it’s been like this for four years, how long will I trap myself in this situation? How long will I keep making myself suffer? Im just… tired. I want to live, I really do but if living means staying inside the hospital walls and consisting of lab tests, excruciating pains, and breathing difficulty, then I don't think that’s living at all.”
He looks away, dawning on him just how selfish he sounded. Asking you why, barging in hoping to convince you otherwise. It was selfish of him. All this time he was focused on what he wanted and needed, constantly going to extents just to save you for his sake,
He nods, “I'm sorry I just—” he paused looking back at your eyes. I really wanted you to stay he wanted to say it out loud, but he felt it was not necessary. “When is it?”
“Tomorrow.”
His eyes widened briefly, looking at her with disbelief once again. “So soon?” his voice was weak, a fleeting look of desperation in his eyes.
“I asked for that.” you looked away fiddling with the blankets. That’s when he noticed you weren't sitting up like you usually were, if his predictions were correct it was because your body was too weak to manage sitting up. It was once again this illness, slowly eating away your life against your will,
He felt his heart sink deeper, feeling more affected than he ever was. He wanted to shout, he wanted to convince you to retract your signage, anything to make you stay, but that wasn't his decision to make.
It was yours, it was your right.
He won't defy you as everyone else did. If it’s truly what you wish then he would support you, no matter how heavy it feels to the heart, he’ll wholeheartedly support you like he always has.
“Then…”
He pauses, causing you to look back at him weakly waiting for him to continue.
“I promised to take you to see the ocean right.”
It was his turn to look away, suppressing the tears that threatened to fall. Its been decades since he last cried, yet he finds himself weak for you, refusing to let the tears fall. Not wanting you to see just how affected he was, he didn't want you to worry knowing you will.
“Let's go see the ocean, okay? Before you go,” he had to pause every few seconds, afraid another word will cause him to break down. "Like I promised."
“Let’s go see the ocean together.”
﹐
It was almost dawn, he never left your room ever since that conversation. He stayed all day and during the night, watched you fall to sleep, rubbing the back of your hand as you doze off. He felt his heart break with every passing hour,
Knowing that it’ll come eventually. The time he’ll have to let you go.
He watched as your calm expression fall to slumber, it was the first time he’s ever seen you so serene. You would always have this tired expression as if everything in the world pained you, for some reason he knew some parts of that was true. This life truly failed you, you deserved better.
Yet you smiled and accepted your fate. He could remember just how happy you looked when he broke the news about the ocean,
At that moment, he witnessed genuine happiness from you. It was the first time he saw your full smile, it wasn't a half smile, not a small one, it was real. And he loved it, he wanted to look at it forever, to admire it as much as he can. Perhaps that's what made this so bittersweet,
Despite his desire for you to stay, he prioritized what you wanted, what you needed.
As long as you’re happy, he's at peace.
“[name], it’s time to go,” he whispers, gently waking you up. Stuffing his keys deep into his pocket, “Let’s go see the ocean, amor.”
He didn't care about what he was saying nor what he just called you, he was just focused on fulfilling your wish. He needed to hurry before the sunrise, he wanted to watch it with you. If this would be the last sight you see before you go, he wanted it to be the most beautiful youve ever seen.
Your eyes fluttered open, greeted by Miguel picking your limp body up in his arms to carry you toward his car. He was gentle, careful not to hurt or cause you discomfort, it made your heart leap with joy and ache at the same time,
“We’re going to see the ocean now?” you ask excitedly, a bit of rasp to your voice from the sleep. His face scrunched up, biting his lip to suppress his emotion.
“Yes,” he responds, attempting to sound just as thrilled as you are. “Yes, we are.”
The drive wasn't long, nor was it eventful. It was mostly silent, with a few remarks from you ranting about how much you loved the beach as a child and how excited you are to see it along with the sunrise. He was fulfilling two wishes of yours, you couldn't be more grateful.
On the other hand, he drove silently. Responding to your stories ever so often, occupied with his sinking heart. He was happy, truly, seeing you look so lively,
It was the most life he’s ever seen from you in your four years of seeing each other in the hospital walls. It hurts him a tad bit, how easily pleased you are, how failed you are by everything in your life.
He had to gather himself, he needs to be happy for your sake. Seeing you peer through the window with a smile, it was like your eyes were shining with excitement, it caused a bittersweet smile to his lips. “We’re here.”
The two of you were just in time, a few minutes before dawn passes with the sunrise on its way. He carefully picked you up from the car, seeing your smile from the corner of his eyes, it was the brightest, at least the brightest smile he's ever seen from you. And you smiled a lot all throughout that four years.
He felt the sand sinking his shoes as he walked with you in his arms, walking until he reached a spot he deemed perfect. “I can stand,” you eagerly spoke, looking at him expectantly.
He would've refused if this was just a normal day, but this was your last day. He wouldn't reprimand you any joy you want. With support, he drops you carefully, holding your waist and your hand on the other. Your legs trembled, they hurt but you ignored it, too busy looking ahead to even feel the excruciating pain all throughout your body. He made sure to hold and support you properly,
“It’s pretty,” you mumble, mesmerized by how the sun slowly made its way to exposure.
You looked ahead, while he looked at you. “It is.”
He knew it wouldn't be long until the tears form, so he savored the moment to admire your face before his eyes blur out with tears. “Should we sit?”
You nod, looking at him briefly before you return your gaze to the front. Taking in the breeze and the scenery, it was painful yet beautiful. You wouldn't ask for more,
“Thank you, Miguel.”
He was silent, letting you speak. “I never thought I could be this happy, but I’m really really happy. My heart could jump!” chuckling at your own words, you turned to him. Tears were evident from your eyes, he disliked it, it made his tears threaten to fall as well. “I really really am happy. Truly.”
“No,” he spoke, looking ahead this time. “Thank you.”
“Thank you for everything.”
You looked at him in confusion, letting out a short laugh. “But for four years i was just at that very bed. What did I do for you worth gratifying for?”
“Existing.” he says calmly, “thank you for existing.”
It was your turn to be quiet, looking at him and observing his expression carefully. It was the first time he outwardly showed emotions, tears brimming in his eyes. They made yours fall even more.
“Thank you for existing and waking my heart.”
“Waking… your heart?”
“Yes,” he responds, with a smile. The very first time you saw his smile, it was a sight truly. A beautiful one, almost on par with the ocean and the sunrise. “Thank you for making me love again.”
His words were unexpected but you kept quiet, taking in his confession. He was pouring his heart out, calmly and painfully. It was almost confusing, yet it was beautiful.
“I loved you the moment you smiled at me. The moment you looked at me in a way only you will—I know it’s odd, I know it’s unusual but I haven't stopped loving you since.” he looked back at you, holding you in his arms as you both sat on the sand.
He had a look of hurt, but a look of acceptance mixed in with a thousand emotions he had on display “When I look at you, I don't want to look at anything else but you.”
“I want to care for you, I wanted to protect you—I wanted to save you.” he was letting himself cry. For the first time in years, he allowed himself to be vulnerable “I won't ask you to return that love. Because it's yours and yours only.”
“Miguel.” you barely whispered, ignoring the pain that gnawed on your body.
“I'll keep loving you,”
“I'll love you today, ill love you tomorrow,
I'll love you forever.”
You both were a crying mess and for some reason, it felt right. The serene breeze of the ocean, the light of the sunrise. It was a perfect moment, the pain was indescribable but none of you would have wanted anything else at this moment. You didn't speak, only looked at him as he does to you. Even without words he knew, the way you stared at him with tears-stained eyes, he knew you understood, he knew you heard him.
He stifles a short laugh, “It's a bit unfortunate for me but if I were to fall in love once more, I’ll choose you over and over again.”
You laid your head on his chest, letting him hold you in your last moments. Closing your eyes, pushing out the tears which didn't seem to stop,
“Until I'm nothing but a fading memory to this world, ill keep loving you even then.”
“If I was given a chance to live, I would have wanted to spend it with you like this as well.” you smile at his chest, intertwining your fingers with his. Feeling yourself falter and falter every passing moment, “There wasn't a moment where your love wasn't reciprocated, Miguel.”
He held you, tightly but gently. Tight enough to not let you go, gently enough to allow you to feel his love. Your words strike his heart in every right way, in every painful way.
“Thank you for unknowingly saving me.”
As the sun rise, the silence of the place allowed him to grieve, giving him space to accept what has passed. He stared ahead, caressing your hair gently, as you depart in his arms. Where you belonged, where you wanted to be.
It was a wonder why the skilled doctor always had a scowl on his face, who knew the patient at room 224 was all it takes to wake his sleeping heart.
this was a fun to write (●'◡'●) bandaids for everyone?
❱ again this was an au first written on tiktok! this will be the last part of it, please keep in mind that it is all fiction and that if you're going through the same thing and are having the same thoughts, please seek someone you trust. Please fight for yourselves, you're worth it
ꜝ？ Warning. . this is a heavy angst fic, mentions of suicide and acts of committing, if that is something that triggers bad emotions, please exit the fic.
paring is Ghost x Reader this is unedited! mistakes such as spelling and grammatical errors are to be expected !
Part 1 (^_^;)
SILLAGE — (n.) The scent that lingers in air, the trail left in water, the impression made in space after something or someone has been and gone; the trace of someone's perfume.
—hey [name]? I know I'm the last person you want to hear from right now, but I just really—
There was a short pause, as the voicemail erupts a slight static sound.
—I love you. That should have been enough reason. No, you were enough. I'm so sorry. I'm sorry I was cowardly, I figured that you'll be happier and safer, being with someone who isn't me. Someone who isn't a soldier.
It was the same night he left your apartment. He swore to himself he would not come crawling back. To protect both of you, at the time, it had been the best solution for him. Until the midnight strikes, he remembered just how serious you looked, just how accepting you looked.
Too accepting.
—because who knows when one of these missions would finally take me out. I can't let you suffer through that, I can't be the one to give you that kind of grief. So I thought leaving you was the best option.
There was a dire pause as he thought of the best words possible to express himself. He’s never been one to do such, but for you, he’s willing to be better.
—it wasn't.
He spoke desperately, almost shaking from just how much adrenaline rushed through him. He had just argued with the team, and after a long hour of explaining to them what he needed to do, he was finally permitted to bail out on this mission, it’s not like he wouldn't leave without permission, that's how urgent this is for him, he needed to get to you as soon as possible,
Even he doesn't know why he’s in a rush,
Maybe it's because of your silence, the unanswered calls, and unread messages that brought him on edge.
—I love you, far too much, my love, to even think straight without you. I love you so much it's hard to breathe. I so desperately love you to the point it hurts.
The desperation and sincerity. It was all there. He knew if he couldn't let it out now, he won't let it out ever. This was his only chance of being happy.
You were his only chance for happiness. He almost couldn't believe he thought letting you go because of his fear was the best decision.
He stupidly let you go, succumbing to the fear of dying while you wait for him. He knows better, he will do better,
For you. Because you're worth changing for, you're worth the risk.
—please don't hate me. I know I was an ass for leaving in the first place, baby, I am sorry. You loved me so much that it felt so good, I didn't know I'm capable of feeling that way, so I was scared that worse would come after. I'm not scared anymore. You looked at me like there's something in me worth looking at,
He felt like he was saying so much yet so little at the same time,
He had so much to tell you but very few words to express it. He needs to be with you. He needs to see you and physically explain to you just how much you mean to him.
—I won't waste it, love, not again. Please open the door for me when I get back.
He frowned, realizing once again just how idiotic he was. He knew he should not have done what he did, but it was over with. The only thing left to do is to make things right somehow.
—I've never been taught how to love, I have.. I don't— I'm not the best at it. I'm sorry baby, if I'm not loving you the right way, and for leaving just like that, but I promise I'll be better. you're worth the better of me, you're worth learning love for.
He needed you, and you needed him. That should have been enough reason to risk it.
—when I come back, please let me hold you. Please forgive me for making you feel like an option between my job. It's you. It's always been you. I love you, baby, wait for me. I'll make this right.
As the line cuts, the static sound fills the eerie room of yours. The very same room he had walked out from, the same room where you sat breathing hours ago. There were no other living sounds except for the occasional ticking of the clock.
There were no signs nor sounds of life perceived in the room. The silence was thick. With your lifeless body beside the bed in a fetal position, a bottle of used pills tightly wrapped around your hands. It was light, about three to four pills left inside a newly bought bottle.
It was dead silent as if the universe sympathized with you.
Allowing silence in regards to respect for what has passed, for what has ended.
﹑
“My family’s never been the typical joyous family, I guess that affected me, as a person in general.”
You explain, running your hand through his hair while his head laid on your lap. It’s one of those days where he’d be much affectionate compared to the majority of the time. He requested to hear about your childhood while he rests on you,
For a moment you felt your heart and breath hitch.
“I guess growing up in that kind of household really—really influenced my well-being. It's given me problems and worries I shouldn't have.” You were hesitant to continue, “Fear, I started having fears for a lot of things.”It's as if you caught a glimpse of his mind, taking in the details you've just given him.“Fears like?”
The moment the question reached your ears, he could see your body tense. He understood, and he doesn't plan on pushing it.“You don't have to answer that, my love.” he smiles, “No matter what it is you're scared of, let’s face it together, yeah? You have me. That's enough, I hope.”
Little did he know that fear was yet to come. The fear of leaving soon, the fear of being unable to keep going. How could you ever explain to him that you don't plan to stay long?
﹑
With a ragged breath from exhaustion, he dropped his things once again, the same way he did before he left. Facing your door yet again, panting as a feeling of discomfort plagued him, why exactly? He’s finally here. Why is he so distraught, he wondered.
“[name]?” he knocks,
Swallowing the lump in his throat, his voice strained, and his state dishevelled. “[name] please—it’s me, please answer.”
The lack of response made him think about just how angry he made you,
“I'm sorry,” he whispers,
“I know I was stupid and irrational. I won't do it again, petal, please open the door.”
To say he’s nervous would be an understatement. What would he do if you never find it in you to let him back into the comfort of your arms? Will he return to the familiar cold he had forgotten when he met you?
“[name] I love you.”
He desperately spoke, yearning for an answer; the smallest sign of acceptance.
It was odd. How quiet it was. Are you that mad? He wonders, but then again, he knew you’re not one to ignore, not even when you’re the angriest you've been. You would never shut him out, not ever. “[name], please, answer, or I'll have to go inside.”
“Baby are you okay?” no response.
Each passing second was like a countdown. He was uneasy and distraught. Afraid even.
The silence felt deafening. He was afraid of what? He had no clue what he was so afraid of, surely you're okay...
Right?
“[name], I'm coming in,” he says sternly, fishing the spare key he oh so gratefully forgot to give back. His heart thumps louder with each action.
The moment he entered, the creak of the door interrupted the silence. He felt like he was intruding on an abandoned space. It felt wrong. He knew something was wrong.
“[name]? I'm back, like—like I always am.” his voice broke, stepping inside, head looking around, hoping to find you and engulf you in his longing arms. “As I told you, I’ll always find my way back… right?”
He kept speaking while he walked, checking and opening every door. Starting from the small kitchen to the bathroom, checking everywhere until there was one room left. He dreaded it, for no reason he was scared and yet he rushed,
He spoke, no—he goes on a tangent,
“I'll take the month off. We’ll do anything you want, anything to make up for this. I promise we can even get a pet, I always say no, right? This time, I'll agree, anything for you, my love just—”
The silence rung,
Apart from the sound of the door opening by his force, there were no sounds made, not from him, not from anything. He simply stood, dumbfounded at what the room unveiled; at that moment, nothing mattered, not even the breath he had held unknowingly.
A ragged chuckle escaped his lips, though it was hollow. As if he was desperate to know that maybe this is all some sick prank. Maybe this was one of your silly games he always put up with, “Baby? What’s this? Why are you on the floor?”
“Jokes over [name] get up—”
When it all came to view, he was silenced. The second he stepped closer, he saw how your body lay lifeless, how you held that bottle, and how his eyes drifted onto the lone tear, which evidently dried along the hours.
How long have you been here?
In this state? How long has it been since you left him?
He couldn't feel. He couldn't grasp his head around the sight before him. He’s well familiar with death. He’s seen it before, and he’s lost comrades before, but nothing comes close to what lay in front of him.
How does one react when their lifeline lies lifeless before their very eyes?
He couldn't approach nor speak. He simply stood with weak knees, tempting to give out. It didn't take him long to crouch, eyes wide open with lips parted slightly. There were no tears, no emotions, the moment numbed him. It didn't feel like reality,
There he crouched, just a few steps away from you. It didn't feel like his heart dropped. It felt almost worse, as if you'd taken it with you. How could this have happened? Did he cause this?
If you had told him a day ago that he would witness the person he loved the most laying on the floor devoid of life, he would have laughed at your face, punching you even. This isn't reality. This isn't a reality he wants to face.
It took every courage in his body to bring himself closer to you, afraid of what more he’d discover. With slow steps, he drew closer, grabbing your hand was the first thing he thought of doing. “Oh god…” his voice broke,
Your body isn't as warm as it used to be,
Not as he remembered. The warmth he loved when he would hold you against him, it’s gone. You're gone.
He had felt countless of stiff lifeless bodies and yet yours hurt the most,
The mere thought of it destroyed him. It hasnt sinked in yet, but he could tell. He could tell his demise is near. The realization will hit him in a short while.
“Baby, im home…” this wasn't him. This was not his voice. Stuttering over the easiest words, strained with pent-up sobs. His chest felt heavy, almost making it difficult to breathe.
Yet with hitched breath, he picked up your limp body and placed you in his arms, crushing your icy body against him. He held you tightly, but his hands cradled your body tenderly. It was as if he’s afraid of hurting you more.
Ghost was forever fearless, always facing whatever challenge was given to him, even his mortal enemy would know that he isnt necessarily the easiest solder to crack, let alone destroy and yet he finds himself sat on the floor holding the lifeless frame of his lover,
Cradling whatever is left of you,
Desperately holding onto what he can possibly hold on to.
The lieutenant everyone looked up on, admired and viewed as an admirable man, sat on the floor with a weighing heart. Holding back the tears that had formed without his knowledge as he held your body,
but right now, he wasn't lieutenant simon ‘ghost’ riley.
At this moment, he was just simon, the simon you loved desperately, the simon who loved you just as insanely.
This person right this moment was your simon,
He wasnt anyone else, he was yours.
As he sat on the hard cold floor, thoughts roaming with his heart screaming, he felt like a mess, but that didn't matter. Words can not describe the regret, remorse, and stupidity he felt,
If i didnt leave,
If i didn't walk out that door,would you still have been alive in my arms?Would i still have to hold you soulless?
He held you closer, bringing you closer to him, as close as possible. He felt nothing but regret, nothing but anger for himself. Why is it that the very grief he tried to protect you from, the same reason he left, the same grief he avoided you to feel, why is it that he’s feeling it now?
His ragged sobs filled the room, and the rest remained still as if everything sympathized for him. As if the world understood the hurt he carried. He sobs, holding onto you as if doing so would bring you back. He knew nothing well, and yet he foolishly cried, hoping you’ll hear him and come back to ease the pain.
Like you always did.
At the corner of his eyes, he saw the letters piled not far from them. Without standing, nor letting go of you, he reached for it. Reading the names addressed on each, until he sees the one for him.
Of all the few letters he saw, his was the only one with tear drops which ruined the ink in front, almost unable to read, he brought it closer, dropping the rest.
Simon,
I felt everything.
Thank you, and im sorry,
I love you :)
Swallowing the impossibly heavy lump on his throat, he opened the carefully folded letter. He was met with even more tear drops. The thought of you crying, alone, while you write him a letter to bid him goodbye, crushed his soul.
He cant imagine a greater pain,
It felt surreal.
How could I..
How could I have lost you this easily.
With his blurry vision, he starts to read—well—attempt to. With every sentence, every punctuation, every meaning of your words, all of it felt like a slap to reality.
How could he have not seen?
How did he not notice? Not paying attention to what you were going through? How could he have been so careless as to leave you all alone.
The very fear you spoke of,
He did just exactly what your family had done.
If anybody could have saved me,
it would have been you.
He read the part over and over again, allowing your words to cut through his heart repeatedly. He left you, and yet, at the end of the day, you still see him as someone—the only one who could save you.
Despite the war inside your mind,
Inside your mind and unwavering emotions, which he hadn't bothered to unveil, he remained the most important person.
May it be in your chaotic mind or the furthest crevices of your heart, he remained on both.
He read it all,
Understanding every single thing you failed to say in person,
Everything you failed to say while you still lived.
It hurts even more. He thought nothing could be more painful when he saw you laying lifeless. But having to read what you wanted to say,
How sorry you were, how thankful you are to him, and how he made you feel.
It was surely another cut to an already existing wound. His mind flashed memories while he went over the tear stained letter you left.
He remembered everything as if they were as fresh as yesterday. When you first smiled at him, when you first held hands, when your lips first touched.
Your words were true. The story of you really is short-lived. But he couldn't help but think about the what If's
If he stayed,
If he hadn't walked out,
If he ignored his fear of abandoning you,
If he hadn't been so stupid and cowardly.
He gave up, and the heavy lump on the throat overcame him, letting the sting linger for as long as eternity. He read the last words on the letter, with a loud sob, with repeated pleads.
Repeatedly apologising, repeatedly begging for you to come back so he could fix things so everything could return to normal,
So you could return.
A childish wish. A high-ranking soldier held the lifeless body of his lover all while he begs for them to come back.
"I'm so sorry." He whispers, voice too broken to speak normally. "I'm sorry for not noticing."
"I'm sorry you had to be alone."
"I'm so sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry." He repeats over and over again, holding you against him.
At the back of the letter, he could barely see the words written with how blurry the tears clouded his eyes.
Thank you for making me feel.
The words only crushed him even more, sobbing and crying harder to no avail.
"[name]..." He whispers, holding you close. "Did it hurt? I'm sorry, it must have been so hard."
"I'm sorry."
"I'm so sorry for not being here you."
He apologized, wishing he could have been with you. To convince you otherwise, wishing he could have been here to avoid this,
To avoid losing you.
Wishing he could have stayed to keep making you feel.
The thoughts of your words before he left suddenly entered his mind,
"Can I hug you?"
"One last time?"
Now it all makes sense why you looked so serene, why you looked so accepting. Why did you have that small smile on your lips,
You were bidding him goodbye.
That really was the final hug.
The final touch he'd ever get, the final living affection he would get from you.
He holds you now, but it wasn't the same, not even close. Back then, you were smiling and breathing, but now you're no different to an inanimate object. Stiff and cold, this is the person he loved so dearly?
It ached.
And it ached painfully.
The type of ache to never go away, the type of ache he'd keep forever.
The type of ache he'll willingly embrace,
As he held you that night, mourning for what could've been, mourning for someone beyond saving.
This was the ache he'd willingly feel forever,
If it means having you in his mind and heart. He would willingly hurt himself by keeping that ache if it means keeping you in his deceased heart forever.
As the remnant of your memories roamed the room, your presence which now passed, the scent of yours he dearly craved. It left a sillage pain to remember,
❱ This is the au i wrote on tiktok captioned "he realized he wanted to stay too late" this will have two parts! I've been making a lot of ghost fics lately LMAO and I'm sorry if the plots are consistently angst, it's what I like doing the most. This one though is a little heavier than most of what I've written, definitely has some personal linking to it with my experience :)
ꜝ？ Warning. . this is a heavy angst fic, mentions of suicide and acts of committing, if that is something that triggers bad emotions, please exit the fic.
paring is Ghost x Reader
this is unedited! mistakes such as spelling and grammatical errors are to be expected !
! if you are going through something heavy right now, please seek someone you trust and you are able to talk to about your emotions, nobody should have to go through their troubles alone, you're loved<3
My messages are open if you need a stranger to listen :)
Part 2 (^_^;)
SILLAGE — (n.) The scent that lingers in air, the trail left in water, the impression made in space after something or someone has been and gone; the trace of someones perfume.
"The deployment takes place soon."
He mumbles, without turning to face you. Occupied by packing up the things he'll need for this mission and more,
He was packing everything.
"Do not wait for me [name]."
"What does that mean?" You ask, a look of indifference plastered on your face. It wasn't necessarily the first time this conversation has been held.
Though it is the first time you're not opposing. For the entirety of that 7 months you're together, fights happened, arguments would sprung. Yet you find yourselves back into each other's arms within a week,
It was a tiring cycle. Something you knew was unhealthy for the both of you, especially with your deteriorating well-being which he has no waking idea about. You've never brought light to it.
It was an ugly part of you, something you despised.
Something you won't ever show him yourself.
With a short sigh, he stood straight, hands propped on his forehead indicating his rising stress. "I can't, we can't."
"I can't let this go on longer.
You kept quiet, awaiting for him to speak more, to tell more of his worries you're evidently familiar with. It was something you've grown aware of,
His fear of abandoning you,
His fear of dying on the field while you wait aimlessly for him.
"This is for the better [name]." Cowardly, is what you would have described this. But you are in no place to be speaking of such as you're also deep into your own hell of mental instability.
For a lot of times this argument has happened, it was the first time you are not tearing up. Asking him to stop spewing nonsense and convincing him to stay.
Why did you keep doing that? You wondered. Now you finally have the answer.
It's the fear,
Fear of your darkness once he's far from you, far from your heart. He was completely unaware of how he'd changed you temporarily, how your sleeping heart awoke with just the sound of his voice.
For the longest time you have not felt anything close to what he made you feel; for the first time you are able to feel. And the thought of that suddenly being taken away from you made your body tremble.
But this time you stood firmly,
He was right. This can't go on forever,
You two may have different reasons for saying such but what mutual fact was that it was true. Staying with each other will only drive you to madness.
With his fear of attachment, and your fear of abandonment. It was bound to fail.
You were already planning on cutting ties even before he brought this up once again; you knew you can't stay. Not any longer,
Not when this void plagued you like a curse.
The air was thick and dire, your lack of response threw him over the edge. It was unpleasant. He had expected you to do the same, to react the same, to stop him.
To fight for him like you always have,
But you're no longer capable of doing that. If you can't fight for your own will to live, how does he expect you to fight for this wilting relationship?
You hated it. Feeling helpless.
But you're certain it's the right thing, tonight, you'll finally do it. Like you always planned.
"I see."
Simon felt conflicted, your short answers and your lack of expression, it gave him a strange gut feeling. This sudden gut decision to stay and make sure everything's okay,
He can't.
He needs to go, one way or another. He's doing this in regards to you, and the safety of your feelings.
If only he'd know you're incapable of feeling, without him you can't. Your gaze followed his walking figure as he brought his things at the door,
Turning to you with a pinched expression, though he was shocked to see you looking at him with a smile.
"Be safe."
You spoke ever so gently, with that slight smile he adored but for some reason it felt odd to see it. It troubled him, he shrugged it off, not wanting to drag this moment longer,
Afraid he'll give in and pull you into his arms.
He kept staring, as if he didn't wish to walk out the door. If he does, it means permanently, his heart was against that. "Can I hug you?"
"One last time?"
He was taken aback, stunned at your sudden request. And for a lot of reasons it hurt him, to hurt you in such a way you end up smiling in acceptance, asking him for one final hug.
With an anxious swallow, he dropped the bags and slowly drew closer to you. Pulling you close, perhaps too eagerly? Too desperately. But he didn't care.
If its the final time he gets to have you in his embrace, he'll make the most of it.
He lets the moment linger, with your hands clutching his shirt, he took you in. Taking your scent, the calm thumps of your heart, he needs all he can get.
With his eyes closed, he carefully rubs the back of your head when he suddenly felt warm on his chest,
It was tears,
Your tears. You were crying silently.
"[name]—"
You interrupt him with a chuckle, pulling away from the hug to wipe your tears.
"Sorry, it escaped." You humoured, wiping them away.
Right at that moment he felt his heart shatter, he felt cruel. On the other hand you felt fulfilled, with the final hug you wanted,
You can finally do it.
"I love you Si." You smiled once again, looking up at his towering figure. Though his expression remained stoic, almost softening as his thoughts dwelled with what his heart wants.
He shook his head, closing his eyes shut as he turned around to take his things. Twisting the knob in the process, stopping to spare you one last glance.
"I—" he almost said it but he stopped himself, he didn't want to make it any harder for himself, no matter how badly he wanted to say it.
"Goodbye [name]."
Those were the last words he spoke to you, as the sound of the door closing erupts in your ears. Leaving you in the eerie room you dreaded,
It's as if you could still feel his embrace.
Once you're sure he's far enough, it's when you started the preparation. Sitting down indifferently to write a few notes; letters to those few you held close.
One final regard of what you were too cowardly to say in person, a goodbye.
And so, you wrote.
﹑
To Simon,
My Simon.
If you're reading this, I am gone.
Whether or not you find this letter, I can only hope you know how much I've loved you. That even without reading this, you're still aware of how much you made me feel.
Thank you, truly.
For the longest time I have struggled to feel, most times it would just be devoid of yearning; my yearn to view life as something worth living for. To no avail I never got that, the idea to keep living never shone bright to me, of course, until you showed up and brighten up my space with your own special way,
It took us quite a few to get along, we really did.
But when it happened, it was ethereal. Things felt right, for the first time I was able to feel,
For the first time I had this sudden urge to keep living, to keep living for you. To see you, to hear your voice, to be beside you. I'm afraid I've grown dependent on that,
As someone who has never felt love nor care, I had no sense of value for myself. Yet you looked at me, you told me you love me and believe me I was ecstatic.
I depended on you, you were my source of happiness and I owe you for every bit of happiness I've gotten from this unfortunate life so when we're apart i find myself remembering just how miserable i am, how my family is, how i am as a person and how hard it is for me to feel.
Without you I can't feel anything.
But that was unhealthy,
I was merely distracted. The void never left, it was there temporarily filled with what I convinced myself was a will to live. I'm sorry. I really am, I wish I could have been better. I wish I could have been stronger,
Braver, to see your achievements even if we're not together anymore. My heart remains yours. It's not your fault, it never will be. I'm sure that you know If anybody could have saved me it would have been you.
I know I lack the ability to feel, but with you, I never lied. I never faked anything. My love for you is here and it's the only feeling I am able to recognize, I know that night you walked out of the door saying we are better off apart, for the safety of my feelings and for the sake of your growing attachment. I cried but I cried because I agreed.
I'm sorry for surrendering to my weakness,
But I can't keep it together; not any longer. I can only hope that you'll be glad to know that maybe I'm somewhere free from the void of my emotions. I'm somewhere better, freely able to feel. Please be proud, with you I felt so much and that will never change. It's me your [name] :) always will be.
Goodluck to the strongest lieutenant! Remember to keep him happy and healthy, take care of the person I cherish the most, okay? Wherever I am, I am somewhere carrying the short-lived love we had. Treasuring it forever,
❱ this 'might' be the last part but we'll see. Since I am working on a König fic on Wattpad :D also I cannot create c.ai bots at the moment since I have like, 4 hours of waiting time smh.
this is unedited! errors might be seen please bear with me !
➴ SYNOPSIS — After taking the hit for him, you wake up without memories of him, nor the incident. He tries desperately to retrieve your memories.
LATIBULE — (n.) a hiding place; a place of safety and comfort.
How did this happen,
How did our memories vanish before your very eyes?
Have I lost them forever?
Have I lost them with you?
Will you find it in you to fall in love with me the second time around?
“Do you remember these, hm? [name]?” He shows you the pictures, holding them out one by one. Each and every photograph you took together, he remembered dreading those but he would always be happy to see your smile each time he agreed,
“You would force me to take one specific picture, to show our future family! We have a lot by now we—we…” he paused, staring at you.
“We had a lot of memories.”
You looked back at him, feeling your headache ever so slightly crack you head while you looked and observed the pictures. Closely looking, trying to find a speck of remembrance, a sign that you remember. Instead you got nothing but the skull crushing headache.
The doctor had released you for a week now, after the dischargement you both had gone back to the base. You took time to get used to everything, since you have your complete memories except for when you’ve joined the KorTac factions,
In your mind, you still think you’re a trainee who volunteered for the military.
Memories after that are as visible as a blur. Not even a blur, they were just gone. It was a trauma response, the doctor says. You could still remember the look on König’s face as the doctor explains. He looked defeated, almost lost.
But ever since then, he hasn't given up.
He would visit your quarters, picking you up for meals at the mess hall, wishing you goodnight for whenever you’d sleep. He didn't miss a single night,
The soldiers had asked him why you were not sleeping in one room, they claimed you both fought really hard to be permitted to do that. König simply responded that you needed space as you are still trying to retrieve the memories he spoke of, you were grateful for that, he’s willing to distance himself,
Of course it pained him, without you beside him he cannot sleep properly.
But for your sake he pulled through, hugging the shirt you left in his quarters. Holding it close to his face every night, taking in your scent, missing the times when you’d be beside him at night, running your hand through his hair as he dozed off.
Right now you’re with him, outside of the base, away from the guns and military equipment. The captain had convinced you to try, to try to remember him. The captain made sure to let you know just how agonizing this is for König, telling you how much he cried and telling you that he’d never seen König act as such.
You felt terrible,
Because of your incapability to remember, he suffered. Yet when he faces you, he's always got this slight smile, always has a glint of adoration in those pretty green eyes of his.
You found yourself fond of it once again,
Again?
“This… I always force you to take these?”
He grinned, nodding eagerly.
“Mhm, every month, without fail.” he spoke so proudly of it, you almost felt a sense of pride spring upon your forgetful heart. You nod in response, looking at the pictures once again,
“König?”
He looked back up at you, “hm?”
“I’m sorry.”
His smile fell and he dropped the pictures carefully on the table, sitting closer to you but far enough to not cause any discomfort. “For what, liebling?”
“For this,” you mumbled, avoiding his eyes. “For forgetting.”
“Dont—dont ever feel sorry alright?” he spoke, not being able to control the urge to hold your hands. And so he did, placing his hand on yours soothingly.
“It's not your fault, never has and never will. You did that for me, and I’m just—just so happy you're here, and proud of you. So so proud, schatz, that you managed to survive that. You did so well, my love.” he rubbed the back of your hand using his thumb, looking up at you with nothing but genuine eyes.
“I love those memories,” he paused, “but not as much as I love you.”
“So there is no need for sorrys, liebling, we can retrieve your memories but if I lost you that day, there would be any possible way to get you back.”
He spoke quietly yet you could hear him very clearly, it is then you realise just how much he loves you.
This man is willing to set aside the way you've just forgotten every memory with him, and is glad to still have you here. His only fear was losing you,
Suddenly the headache is gone, replaced by the dawning realisation.
“We’ll make new ones okay? New memories, just as we did before.”
Just how could you forget his eyes?
“If you’ll just let me, I know I'm not more than a stranger to you right now but if you'd just let me in your heart again, I'll surely—”
Just how could you ever forget the blossoming emotion of being in his arms?
How could you ever forget that voice of his which lovingly calls for you,
How could you have forgotten the plans to grow—
“Tulips.”
He looked at you with wide eyes. “What did you just—”
“The tulips, König.”
Tears stained his eyes as he sat unable to form a word. He looked at you and only you, letting the emotion surge through his body, letting himself cry for you once again.
“We promised to plant the tulips.”
Together,
Right König?
Our tulips,
Just like we promised. In our small house with leaf,
❱ This will have two parts (or more) depending on how the comments on tiktok are /j
but it'll probably be more than two!
please keep in mind that the **" "** in italics are their memories, or something they said before the incident.
ꜝ？angst warning, as well as mentions of injuries.
pairing is König x reader !
this is unedited, grammatical and spelling errors are to be expected.
➴ SYNOPSIS — You and König were in a mission when you see a lens-flare aimed right at his chest, without hesitation, you lunge and take the hit for him.
VORFRUEDE — the joyful intense anticipation that comes from imagining future pleasures.
"[name], call for backup."
You nod, doing your best to comply as much as you can despite the exhaustion which enveloped your body,
It's your duty. It's your job to protect,
"Backup's on the way, König. Evac is almost there too, we just have to—"
You will never die for these people,
You wouldn't allow yourself to die for the military. No matter how brutal your battles are, you've sworn to always put yourself first.
"König."
A ragged breath escaped your lips.
You would never choose someone else over your own life.
No one would come first before yours,
No one else but him.
"König!"
It was as if you caught a brief glimpse of your world crumbling down, seeing that red dot aimed right at his heart, you couldn't hear anything else but this blinding ringing.
Without another thought, you lunged towards his direction. Pushing him aside roughly as you take the hit for him,
As if this moment was purposely slowed down, you saw his eyes widened through your blur of a vision, you saw the glint of panic in his eyes.
"König, when we retire,
let's have a small house and garden."
"[name]!"
König found himself falling on the hard floor, not feeling the impact of your push as his attention focused on your trembling figure,
He saw it,
He saw how you froze, how your head slowly turned down to look at the horrifying wound. Raising both your hands weakly to look at the stains of blood.
"In that garden, we'll grow tulips."
His frightened gaze laid on your collapsing figure. Without wasting a moment more, he rushed towards your limp body, lifting you up to sit you somewhere safer.
With tears stained eyes, he dropped to the floor, holding your trembling body close to him as his clouded vision attempts to stop the threatening tears,
"Keep your eyes open, [name]."
His body shook, he could feel his hands shake terribly. Looking down at you with a horrified expression.
The love of his life laid limp on his lap,
And it's because of him.
Of all the reasons, did it have to be him?
"Evac is— evac is coming. Please please please."
He knew the bullet hit somewhere fatal, otherwise you wouldn't have gone into shock. He saw the life fade from your eyes,
But you raised your weak hands to caress his clothed face, a smile making its way to your blood stained lips.
"The tulips, könig, they're gonna be so pretty."
"no, no, no." He shook his head as he saw the acceptance in your eyes.
"I've never loved anyone as much as I did with you, Keep that—keep that in your mind könig."
He shakes his head vigorously, screaming for you to wake up. Shaking your trembling body,
The tulips, we still haven't planted them.
Wake up.
"[name] you can't, please, the tulips."
Who knew loving you would be a beautiful tragedy?
Have you known,
[name]?
Have you known that you'll be taking my heart wherever you go?
Have you known I'll grow those tulips, just for you?
"Grow the tulips for me, my love."
"I won't." He shook his head repeatedly.
"Without you, I won't."
With your weak, strained voice you spoke. For him you kept trying,
"We'll plant them together—right Liebling?" He desperately spoke, keeping his hand tightly placed on your wound to apply pressure.
"Just as we planned. Together. In our small house. After we—" he paused to sob, letting out the clashing emotions that pierced through him.
"You even said that we'll have a cat, he's gonna be named Leaf because of our garden. You said I'll wake up next to you, I'll wake up to you playing with my hair—because I like it so much—right? [name]?"
"We still have to do those."
His lungs felt trapped in every word he spoke, it felt as if he’d pass out. Never had he felt so weak and hopeless, not for a mission, not for something,
Especially not ever for a person.
And yet here he sat, crying uncontrollably for you to stay and fulfil the plans you’ve made together.
"You still have to—"
"You still have to marry me," he whispered.
"Schatz bitte."
He cried, as he couldn't do anything else but wait for evac. He needed you,
He can't lose you.
Not now. Not ever.
"I know I sound selfish, I know you're hurting and you want to rest but—I just—what would I be without you?"
Tulips,
Without their roots, they are lifeless.
Tulips without their sunlight are bound to wilt.
You felt your own tears trickle down your face,
"Liebling, I won't just let you go. I won't. Even after we planted those tulips," He paused, unable to control his emotions as he looked into your weak eyes. Your eyes that are on the verge of giving up,
"I'll keep needing you, I'll keep holding on."
And as if on cue, he hears the door thump. For a moment, he felt relieved, his tears abruptly stopping as his head turned towards the door.
“[name], see? Evac is—”
His heart dropped when the realisation hit, it wasn’t evac. They would have asked first, they would have given callouts. It’s the syndicates,
With an exhausted breath, his eyes grew darker, placing [name] on the corner hurriedly and gently. “Stay here, call for evac again alright? Don’t—don’t close your eyes [name], please.”
He placed a kiss on top of your head before he picked his weapon up once again, sparing you one last glance before he quietly made his way towards the entrance. The sadness fading for a moment as rage replaced the burning emotion in his heart,
They did this.
They're taking you away from him.
With gritted teeth he strides, coming in contact with the geared enemies. As if he’d forgotten how exhausted he was, he fought efficiently. Taking hits and giving just the same, he was enraged, and they felt it. How he grunts and how he raised his hand. His strength and size overpowered them easily,
It was as if he lost himself, he looked almost unreal. Taking lives with a clenched jaw, he felt anger. As he remembered what could possibly happen because of what they did,
What he can possibly go through.
He pants, staring down at the bloody sight. Taking in the smell and the horrendous end he made them face,
It didn't feel accomplished. Inside that room, you sat with a bullet deep inside your body. Defeating these people didn't feel as accomplished as it did before.
He weakly walked back—praying to whoever that you’re still breathing, that you’re still alive to continue on with your lives, still alive to plant the tulips with him. With droopy eyes he saw your bloody figure, sat with closed eyes and the talkie wrapped around your hands,
His tears fell once again, “schatz, I'm back.” he whispered, collapsing beside your body. Throwing the talkie and replacing it with his hands, clasping yours together with his tightly.
The tulips,
“We couldn't separate them so we had to fit both of them in one evac vehicle.”
The captain looked at horangi in question, “Couldn't separate them?”
“König held them too tightly, we were only able to separate them when we arrived here. Roze suggested letting them share a room together but due to some policies, the hospital didn't allow it.” he explained further, as they looked at König’s sleeping figure,
He had a frown despite being in a deep sleep.
“I see.” the captain mumbles, “make sure to let him know that [name] is safe, I'm certain hell would be loose if he didn't see them near him.”
Horangi nodded, he spoke just before the captain reached the door.
“[name]’s in a coma, doctors have informed us that they’re unstable.”
“They’ll pull through, for König they will.” the captain replies without turning his head back. “They spoke of their retirement recently, [name] wouldn't disappoint König.”
“What color of tulips will we have?”
“Mm, white.”
“Why's that?” he asks you,
“To symbolize how sorry I am.”
He gasped, sitting up on the bed with his hands tightly wrapped around his neck, attempting to catch his breaths. The dream had hunted him, the look on your face,
The apologetic tone you spoke with,
What did you mean by that? What are you sorry for?
Before he could take in his surroundings, he exited the room. Uncaring about the chords that connect to him, he walked and walked till he reached the front desk.
“[name]. Where is their room?”
He spoke sternly, catching the nurse off guard, he knew he looked terrifying but that’s not of his concern right now. He needs to know you're here, he needs to know you have a room, because if you dont it can only mean one thing.
And he’ll refuse to believe that.
“Ah— [name] under the KorTac factions is it?” the nurse stuttered, flipping through the pages of their record book frantically, not wanting to cause the soldier any more agitation.
“Room 405 sir. The patient who’s in—”
Without hearing any more words from the nurse, he ran, hurriedly ran to wherever that room could be. Worriedly reading the numbers in each room as adrenaline enveloped his body. Relief, happiness, everything all at one, he could cry.
But not yet, not until he sees you, not until he holds you.
“[name]!”
He chimes, barging inside the room recklessly. There was no one else inside, only you on the bed, sleeping soundly. He pants, walking closer, feeling his hands tremble by the sight of you.
“Liebling.” he mumbled, reaching for the chair and sitting by you. “Love, you're here.”
He could feel the tears fall at last, feeling his heart at ease. The sight of you removed the thousands of worries on his shoulder, that dream meant nothing, you had nothing to be sorry for. You didn't leave him,
“You didn't—you didn't go.” he broke down, laying his head down on your hands which he held. Sobbing to you.
“When we go back, let’s retire as soon as possible, okay?” he mumbled, lips trembling as he spoke.
His voice broke with happiness. Croaking out whispers of ‘I love you’s’ while he laid on your hand. “No more of these. No more.”
“Let’s buy a house, a small one. Then we’ll go get leaf and—and, the tulips, my love.”
The tulips,
In our home.
Let’s grow the—
“Tulips?”
His breath stopped, he froze as you spoke. He raised his head to look at you, weakly staring back at him.
“What tulips?”
“Where am i?”
The rasp on your voice was heard, the confusion evident and visible from the way you spoke and looked at him. He felt his heart drop,
❱ This is the last part of HIRAETH ! I don't want to drag it any longer than this. It's so much fun writing this and exploring more words to add to my vocab! Everyone's been nice (except when they give me their therapy bills) I love you guys srsly, You make writing so much more fun <3
I should have gotten this done HOURS ago, but I had to do stuff and just finished working out T-T but hey, writing block isn't killing me rn.
ꜝ？This fic may contain heavy topics such as death, depression and melt-downs, if any of those are not to your liking. Please do so exit the fic. Angst warning!
➴ SYNOPSIS — Ghost mourns of what's lost; reminiscing of the memories, apologizing, begging for you to hear his desperation for your presence as he sat Infront of your tombstone.
QUERENCIA — (n.) A place from which a one's strength is drawn, where one feels at home; the place where you are your most authentic self.
“Relationships in the military,”
He spoke, pausing to stare at your eyes. Searching for hesitance,
“They tend to be tragic.”
“But we’ll be together, no?”
“look , kid, it's not as easy as it sounds—”
“Do you feel the same way?”
You cut him off, not giving him the chance to speak. Catching ‘the’ simon ghost riley off guard, “Yes.” he breathes out.
“Then I don't see the problem, lieutenant, I love you, you love me. That's what barney said.”
He stares at the void, remembering yet again another memory he kept special in his heart. He wondered if you had not pursued him at that exact moment. Would he still feel the raw pain that plagued his heart now? Would it still hurt all the same?
If you hadn't stubbornly shown him how determined and real your love for him was, would he still be in this position, dreading every day that comes knowing the person he needs the most was taken from him.
throwing his gear onto the side. Making his way back to his quarters without giving anyone a second glance,
Ever since you've been gone, the base has been awfully tense. The rest understood his situation, trying their best to be there for him, all while attending to their own duties. The past few weeks had been the hardest, They could tell Ghost had been on edge.
He’d only speak to them if it's necessary, otherwise he’d be kept to himself. As if the past had repeated itself, there appeared a gap between his friends and him. He was mourning, and he plans to keep mourning,
If that means having you on his mind,
Then he’ll mourn forever.
“Ghost?”
Price’s eyes widened at the sight of Ghost,
It’s the first month since you've passed away and the rest of the team planned to pay you a visit to show respect and also let you know how missed you are, not just by them, but also by Ghost who seemed to have shut his whole world out.
He saw how Ghost shown a tough facade when he would hear him call for her,
At night, when everyone slept, Ghost cried and wept for you to come back. Begging aimlessly for your return,
Begging endlessly to feel your arms around him again.
Price didn't expect him to be joining them. He hadn't been. The team visited your resting place a couple of times before, he’d invite him but he’ll make up reasons not to go. Price figured he still hasn't accepted that's where your body lays,
The ride to their destination felt almost eerie, the tension leading the hour long drive. Nobody dared to speak, not a single word.
Ghost’s mind resides elsewhere, watching the scenery they drove past. Chest heaving up and down as he struggles to fathom that he’d finally visit you,
No—he was more occupied with thinking about how it’s only been a month.
It felt longer than that. It felt longer than his training days. He felt more exhausted, more agitated, and more angry. He resents every breathing thing he comes across to,
He knew it sounded cruel, but why do they deserve to live and you don't? You have been the kindest, and yet you were taken first. He couldn't understand,
As a soldier he’d lost multiple comrades, having to face funerals—visit the cemetery, and deal with death itself. Though yours felt unreal,
It felt as if his bones were crushed. He knew how pathetic it seemed, clinging onto someone who's never coming back, but he'd rather cling onto the past if it means having to hold you close to his heart forever, where you belonged.
、
Everyone got out of the car,
Everyone but him.
Price sighed, not planning to pry. If his breath felt shallow just by being here, he could only imagine what Ghost felt at this moment, considering it was his first time to ever be here.
A few minutes passed, and the three sat quietly at first until soap had cracked a dad joke, lifting the atmosphere just a little bit. They spoke as if you were there, sitting with them, price would constantly glace at Ghost, who sat quietly in the car. He wondered what ran through his mind.
“We should give him his own time to talk to [name].” Price groaned as he stretched when he stood up, the two following closely behind him. “He needs this.”
Ghosts' eyes caught them approaching. He felt his stomach sink. He knew he planned to wait until they finished before he took his turn as he expected himself to break down and shed tears. He didn't want them to see that. And yet he still felt his heart beat faster when they came back,
Price threw him a small smile, a smile of empathy.
As if that's his cue, he jumped out of the car. Taking slow strides towards ‘your’ direction. He never thought he could ever despise a cemetery so much in his life,
The only thing he could think of was the way you laid down there, away from his grasp.
No matter how slow he walks, he soon finds himself in front of ‘you’, oh well—a stone that only proved to him that you're gone. “Have you been waiting?”
He couldn't believe it,
He was talking to a mere stone.
But he’ll take what he can get.
“Wake up.” he stared down with an expressionless face, “enough laziness, [name]. Get up from there.”
“You can have all of the shirts you want from me, you can pluck my eyebrows, do it, you can get a puppy. Anything you want just— just wake up.”
His voice betrayed him the more he spoke,
The longer he looked at the stone, the way he kept reading the credentials written on it, the more it felt real. Every passing second is just another evidence of your disappearance,
“You always call me mean,”
He swallowed,
“Yet you're the one who left first.” his cold gaze softened, the more he looked at the ground. Under the ground where your body laid.
Where the body of his lover slept eternally.
“How do I find you now? Now that I'm stuck here?”
He recollects his promise, the promise to reunite in your next life. It all pierced through him. He’s a soldier, yet he finds himself worrying about the most ridiculous thing. What if you'd reincarnate before he passed?
What if you leave him behind again,
What if this time you find someone else to love?
What will he be then?
“Remember when you'd go on tangents about how fascinating reincarnation and universes are? I believe you now, okay? So— so wait for me.”
He sat down, quietly enjoying the breeze. He couldn't deny the pain of the piercing ache that developed in his chest. It never really went away. He would simply distract himself.
“I find it hard to sleep again, love.”
“The bed feels colder without you in it. Do i sound cheesy? Do not make fun of me. I want to be honest. Maybe doing that would lessen the overbearing hurt in my chest. It’s just—it’s only been a month since youre gone and im already a fucking mess. I mean, look at me,”
He chuckled,
“I look rough, dont i?” he sighed, “would you still find my eyes pretty even when i tire them out by crying?”
He looked away, observing the serenity of the cemetery. He wondered how many souls wandered around, and if yours were one, and if you stood close to him.
“I feel—just terrible. When I woke up, I thought I'd finally lose it, well I did. I caused price trouble, you'd have scolded me. I really did it this time, pushing everyone away as if you'd come back to tell me off. That's not ever happening, and that's what hurts the most.”
He spoke slowly, yet he felt out of breath.
“It feels suffocating—you know? To live without you.”
“I don't know why I woke up, I wished I didn't. Maybe then I'd be with you.”
“It’s scary, [name], so scary.” he whispered, the rasp of his voice sounding more evident. “I have no certainty if we’ll see each other again; and I need nothing more than to hold—to feel you again. To hear your voice, to take in your scent. If I have to give everything up for that, I will.”
“Anything just to have you back to me.”
He stared at the words engraved on the tomb,
“but if i have to wait decades or centuries—i will—without hesitance, without a blink, i will. For you, I'll keep being patient.”
“That's how worthy you are [name]. So wait for me please, no matter how long it takes for me to find you again, please wait.”
He spoke lowly, but certainly, no matter where you are, he hoped you'd recognize him, hoping you’d recognize his eyes you loved so much,
“Even if it means i'll have to die again and again, i’ll keep searching for you until we’re back home until i can hear your voice call my name again.”
“Wait for me, [name].”
Hoping you’d recognize your Simon.
、
Somewhere along the memories,
、
Somewhere along the universe,
、
Somewhere along life and death,
、
Somewhere along—
、
“Simon.”
“Pardon?” he looked at you, puzzled expression written all over his face. “Whatd you just say?”
❱ This is a longer version of the au I posted on tiktok ^^ I do apologize for the repetitive use of some words. I'm working on expanding my vocabulary! Your kind word means a lot to me, especially the readers on tiktok, you guys mean a lot to me !
ꜝ？This fic may contain heavy topics such as death, depression and melt-downs, if any of those are not to your liking. Please do so exit the fic. Angst warning!
the fic is unedited, grammatical/spelling errors may be found!
➴ SYNOPSIS — On a particular mission, you and your lover finds each other fatally injured. With a promise to meet each other again on your next life, you held each other as the explosion erupted. Only for him to wake up the next day, without you.
part 2 (●'◡'●) | masterlist
ORPHIC — (n.) mysterious and entrancing; beyond ordinary understanding.
"[name]?!"
He frantically called, dropping the weapons he held to take a good look at your figure who collapsed on the floor.
The mission had been awfully longer than they anticipated, by the time the third hour arrived, you and Ghost already had fatal wounds.
He hardly swallowed, feeling his throat dry.
He would rarely call you by your actual name. Ghost always abide by the rules, lover or not, he called you by your callsign through the battles you fought with together,
This one, however, happens to be an exception.
Your panting chest, bloody body, and exhausted expressions stated so.
He knew, you knew.
He was only grateful you were with him.
The physical pain had caught up to him, he sat beside you. Taking your dainty form close to his, holding you close to him. You could hear his heartbeat,
They were oddly calm.
"Lieutenant—"
"Simon. It's your Simon."
He mumbled, taking your hands in his. Clasping them together gently,
You gasped for air, though in his arms it felt as if you could still conquer ten groups of syndicate. He held you so gently, so protectively. You swallowed,
"Simon?"
"mm?"
"I hope I loved you enough in this lifetime."
You could hear his breathy chuckle, the rasp in his voice another proof of his exhaustion.
"You're rushing, doll, we are still at the part where we reminisce about the memories yea?"
You smiled at his words, disregarding the growing pain on your abdomen. You noticed his own body, the scars and blood covered your lovers figure, You knew it was inevitable.
Without mentioning anything about your wilting bodies, you smiled up at him.
"We haven't lived enough yet." You spoke.
"Indeed,"
"We'll just have to meet in our next one and make the most of what we missed in this one."
Your smile grew, "I didn't know you believed in reincarnation, Si."
"For you, I will. This life failed us," He spoke with weak determination, "This isn't our end, [name].
I'll find you just as I did before."
With one final kiss, he held your body tighter to his. Covering your ears as protection for the upcoming explosion, as he whispered sweet nothings,
"If I'm as grumpy in our next life, Please find it in you to be as patient as you are to me in this one. I love you, [name], see you there alright?"
It wasn't long until a blinding explosion defeaned both of your ears, the noise was much bearable for you as he covered your ears tightly. Pressing your body close to his, Well it is the last thing he did, love you and hold you til you both accepted the inevitable fate you've been bestowed.
At his very last moments, he held you tight.
﹑
﹑
﹑
"I'll find you in our next life."
﹑
﹑
﹑
"See you there, alright?"
﹑
﹑
﹑
"Love me just as much as you did on this one."
﹑
﹑
﹑
Soon after the final explosion, Price made sure to clear the place. The eerie silence of Ghost's nonexistent callouts haunted him, along with the walkie he found which belonged to you.
He knew there was one answer, but he had a tiny speck of hope. You and Ghost never failed them, it was this life that had failed you countless times.
"Captain, it's been hours, it's just—let's try to be realistic. There's no way Lieutenant would be so quiet unless he—"
"Have trust in them. They're both strong."
As the two discussed whatever conclusions were the most possible, Gaz had found himself in a particularly secluded room. It was wrecked, obvious that the explosion did not spare it,
"Cap.. captain, you might want to see this."
With hitched breaths, the three of them stared at what the room unfolds.
His arms wrapped around you protectively, dried blood covered the two of you as you held each other. The sight pinched the soldiers heart, how could such a tragic sight depict so much love?
The two of you laid, almost showing no signs of life. Price had to drop his equipment, staring at the sight and taking in the vulnerability and acceptance you both showed,
"They held each other." Soap mumbled,
"Tightly." Gaz whispered, staring at the grip your cold hands had on ghosts arms that wrapped around you lovingly.
Price found himself approaching the two, with a heavy heart. He checked for a sign of life—anything—holding your pulse first,
Nothing.
"They're gone."
He whispered, the silence of the room almost suffocating the room. None of them had yet broken down, though they felt as if their knees would give out. Price reached for Ghost's after checking yours,
Eyes widening as he frantically double checked Ghost,
"There's—He's still breathing."
﹑
By the time evac had arrived, Price had known it was far too late to save both. He knew this was now their reality. As he sat outside the room where Ghost lay unconscious, completely unaware of the world he’ll wake up to, unaware that he’d live to see that his lover is now gone.
Price felt his stiff heart ache as the thought of them accepting the inevitable death whilst in the arms of each other. How could the two of you receive such a cruel end? Not only were you separated, you had passed thinking you remained in the arms of your love,
He also knew you would hold no grudge if you find out that Ghost had survived the tragic explosion, Price could imagine the gentle smile on your lips while saying ‘I know he will, he’s always been tough.’
He closed his eyes shut, holding his head as he rested his arms on his weak knees, “how the hell am i supposed to tell him.” standing up to return to his station, looking at the window to see Ghost’s resting figure.
As days went by, Price had to argue with people to push further the funeral. It can’t happen yet, not without ghost. He knew he could only delay it for a few more days. He had faith in his comrade, but at the same time that hope easily withers as days pass them by like a blur.
“Captain if we don’t proceed with the funeral, [name]’s body, it’ll—”
“We have to wait for him.” he interjected sternly, glaring at the soldier, “we have to.”
He knew his logic had given out in favour of his emotions, he can't bring himself to betray simon. Not when he's already been through so much, he'd already lost the person he cared for the most, He just can't do this to him.
“Captain the body, they're doing everything they can to help preserve [name]. But if this keeps on, the body will decay completely! Do you think the lieutenant would be delighted to see the person he loves rotting? He wouldn't—I'm sorry captain. This needs to be done, with or without him.”
Price grimaced, the corner of his eyes wrinkling as he closed his eyes shut. He pinched the bridge of his nose, before nodding with a heavy heart.
“Very well.”
“Proceed with the funeral.”
﹑
“Si, have I told you how much I love your eyes?”
“‘Mm? Yeah, all the time, doll.”
You chuckled, ruffling his hair. You loved the way his eyes squint whenever he’d smile, even the slightest smile he shows, you loved it every single time.
“I love looking at them, they look really pretty.”
“You think so?” He asks, caressing your face.
“I know so. I want them to be the last things I admire before I pass away.”
His eyes weakly fluttered open, his breaths shallow but much more stable than before. He’d woken up certain that he’ll turn to see your peaceful face, away from the wars, away from the scars of the battles you both conquered, he knew and was certain he’ll turn to his side to see you peacefully resting with him after the turmoil you've both overcome, as proven of the light that blinded him when his eyes fluttered open,
As soon as his eyes adjusted to the brightness, he sat up with a relieved sigh. Turning to his side, prepared to caress your soft skin.
His breath hitched.
You weren't there.
You weren't anywhere near his proximity. Where are you? He finds himself sitting on an empty hospital bed with nothing but his dumbfounded state. He looked around, observing the place with a tired frown. He felt rage. Why is a dextrose connected to him? That was where your hand rested before the explosion killed the both of you,
..right?
“[name]?”
He whispered, standing up, ignoring the piercing pain he felt all over his body. Pulling the dextrose and removing it from his arm roughly,
Why is he breathing? Why is he alive?
“Hell, what is this?”
No. no no no no no no no.
He stormed out of the room, uncaring about the strange looks thrown towards him as he opened each and every room of the hospital. Panic surging through his body, he won't accept it, he won't. You've gotta be inside one of these god forsaken rooms,
Shocked screams and gasps were heard by every door he opened, abruptly interrupting the patients as he searched for those particular eyes. That particular person he needs. He was determined. In one of these rooms, you would be laying down on the bed, resting, waiting for him.
If he’d survived, you surely did, too.
He won't live otherwise, not without you. And so he continued barging inside rooms, panting and grumbling to himself everytime a different pair of eyes looks at him in terror, they weren't your eyes, you wouldn't have looked at him with a petrified expression, you would look at him with a smile,
Like you always do.
You open your arms and wait for him to close the distance and embrace you, pressing your bodies tightly against each other like he did the night of the explosion.
“Lieutenant!”
Price’s voice rang through the silent hallways, with workers of the hospital frantically following the two of them, “what are you doing simon—”
“Where are they?”
“Where is [name]?!”
He angrily snapped, voice strained with venom as he started to feel himself fall into a hysteria.
“Where’s my [name], john?” he repeats, this time weaker. Desperate for answers, desperate for your whereabouts, desperate for you.
“Simon, let's calm down. Let's go back to the room and talk.” Price tried to calm him, slowly making his way towards his friend, aiming to take him back and avoid him from causing another scene.
“No.” he shakes his head in disbelief, tears brimming on the verge of falling, “tell me where they are.”
Price felt his heart sunk, he'd never seen the hard-headed ghost look so vulnerable and desperate. “Simon, come on let's go.”
“Price. Where's my [name]?”
﹑
“They're gone.”
Price had managed to pull the hysteric Simon back into his room and sat him down on the bed despite his protest and cries. The sight crushed price’s heart,
“No.” ghost protests, “they're most certainly not.”
Price looked down, sitting himself down as well. Unable to take the lump suffocating on his throat. Ghost’s voice destroyed him, and he bet it would crush your soul to see your lover ask so desperately for you.
“When evac came, [name]’s already dead. It was too late, Simon, I'm sorry.”
“Then why!?”
Price looked up at Simon's sudden question, “why the hell did you think i wished to live if it was too late for [name]?!”
“Why did you have to save me, price?” he weakly stood up, looking down at price as tears fell down his eyes. They were tears of rage and grief—tears that he had rarely shown anyone but you.
“Saving me knowing I'll wake up without my [name], what did you— what did the lot of you think? Now tell me,
Tell me what ill do, tell me price, what the fuck should i do?”
He cried, weeping his unfeeling heart out. He can't feel anything, none worth mentioning—the hurt of losing you plagued his heart,
“I can't, price, I can't do this.”
“Send me out there, make me fight those syndicates, have me tortured for months but not this—not this, i beg you. Don't make me live without [name]. Don't do this to me.”
Price felt his own tears pool his eyes, he couldn't take it. Not when Ghost stared at him with contempt and helplessness.
“Take me back to [name].”
“Please.”
Without you, there was nothing else left for him. Without you, he wouldn't wake up looking forward to meeting those eyes that once looked at him with adoration. Without you, he wouldn't feel that extraordinary love you had saved only for him. Without you, he won't feel. Without you, he is nothing at all.
Nothing but a breathing piece of sorrow revived to a body which was once happy with you.
❱ It's my first time using tumblr again in a really long time so I have no clue what is happening!!! I'm trying my best to make this look presentable (T-T) there are no other fonts, and the color text options are limited *riots* but it's fine, I can work with this.
As some of you may know this fic is originally from an au i made on tiktok yesterday! I'm gonna continue this one to test tumblr and see how it goes :D
this is unedited! there may be errors | spelling or grammatical errors.
➴ SYNOPSIS — Leon desperately clings to the remnants of you. Avoiding any sign of acceptance that you're gone.
SAUDADE — (n.) A nostalgic longing to be near again to something or someone that is distant, or that has been loved and then lost; "the love that remains."
—To say he's lost would be an understatement, he feels so much more than just lost. He sat on the floor, leaning on the bed for support as he stared at the void,
He wondered, what's the point? What's left for him to keep going? Maybe if he'd wreck his life, maybe if he did unspeakable things,
Maybe then you'd come back just to scold him. Give him an earful about how stupid he is. He chuckled shortly, though it sounded desolate. Almost hollow.
He stared down at a shirt he held tightly, your shirt. He clung to it, nuzzling his face deep into the piece of cloth, desperate to inhale what's left of your scent stuck on the fabric. He wished it wouldn't go away, but as days went by, your scent vanished.
It was as if he'd lost you the second time. He hated how pathetic he felt, he hated how much he cried but all this self hatred was never enough to mask the guilt, the grief, the longing. He needs you,
He needs you back.
The air was suffocating, it's as if you took his heart and lungs with you the day you passed. But that's not possible, he can feel everything. His heart is here, away from where you are. He couldn't accept it, will he ever?
He reached for his phone from where he'd abandoned it, sitting back down on the hard floor. He stared at the screen, dried tears visible from his face.
If you were here, you'd have wiped them before they got the chance to dry up.
His eyes flickered with bitterness. He despised his state, he was a mess. The corner of his eyes wrinkled as he frowned, turning the phone on and clicking your number to dial.
It's his nightly routine ever since you've been gone. With hitched breath, he would call you, knowing you wouldn't answer. It's unhealthy—the lump on his throat felt deadly.
He would call you over a dozen times, staring at the ringing phone, until your voicemail plays,
"Not in the proximity of answering, call you back when I can!"
He listened intently, eyes glistening with tears that threatened to fall. He finds himself crying yet again,
Your voice, It was the only remaining remnant of you he could hold onto. It's also the reason for his tears every 4 am, when he'd long to hear you. Wishing he could feel your gentle touch wipe his tears,
He hated how the smallest details of you slowly wither away from his mind. The look in your eyes, their color, how soft your hair felt, the beauty marks he adored.
He despised how easily they wilt away, as if his own mind protects him from his despair. Despite that, he'd frantically search for his phone to stare at a photo of you,
Taking in every detail.
Desperately memorizing all parts of you, everything he loved the most. He needed it to stay, he can't forget you,
It would feel as if he's betraying you.
"[name] just why—" he paused, "Why did you have to be the one to go? Why can't it be someone else?"
His voice broke. He sounded weak, vulnerable. Voice rough from a week long of crying, and not speaking to anyone. He is indeed a mess, crying for you as if doing so would bring you back.
He threw his head back, rubbing his face with a heavy sigh. It felt heavy, almost heavy enough to bring him down. He couldn't take it, he needed you back, it felt as if he's on the verge of breaking apart.
"How could you leave me?"
His hands stayed covering his face, as he wept, as he sobbed. Uncontrollably crying, the pain on his heart clouding his rational thoughts,
He'd felt bad for not visiting your grave but he couldn't. Not another step close to where you rest, his body had already trembled uncontrollably. He couldn't do it,
He can't last longer than a few seconds, especially not around anybody else. He had felt terrible for not attending the funeral, and for spending the whole day desperately searching for something—anything—that can possibly be a remedy for his ache,
He'd grip your clothes, hold the sheet of the bed you once laid on tightly close to him, desperate to inhale your presence. Desperate for any sign that would convince him you're still here,
"I can't… I really can't."
He broke down, not caring if he'd look crazy. He spoke as if you were there with him, like he wished, "
How could emptiness feel so heavy? You'd left, leaving a void for him to fill, but what could ever fill the void of losing one's love, of one's wonderwall, of one's reason to live. What could possibly heal him?
He swallowed hard, wiping his face as he looked up. Attempting to stand up, he's pretty sure he'd knock some things over by doing so,
He lays on the bed, grabbing the blanket the both of you used. Holding it near his face, covering half of him as he laid sideways, hugging the blanket which once kept him warm next to you, hoping he'd retrieve the same warmth.
"Come back please."
He closed his eyes shut, inhaling what's left of your scent. Tears brimming on his eyes,
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