i like requests

“ seth r o l l i n s aesthetic

                                 – create something beautiful and then destroy it

Request: Dark Smoke

Jack felt Mark’s forehead and frowned, concern coming to replace the once humoured expression on his face. “Oh wow, ya weren’t kiddin’ when ya said ya felt ill. Yer burnin’ up”

The older man sighed and lay back in bed, feeling his whole body ache and sweat under the sheets. “I feel like utter shit” He groaned, rubbing his temples when he felt a headache coming on. Jack smiled at him, kissing the top of his head.

“Should I stay home t’day and look after yeh?”

Immediately shaking his head, Mark sat up again though a little too quickly as his head began to throb. “No, I want you to go into work. You have people depending on you today, I don’t want my silly sickness getting in the way” Jack rolled his eyes, letting out a defeated sigh.

“Okay, okay. Ya win, I’ll go t’ work. But if ya start feelin’ worse, don’t hesitate t’ ring me okay?” Mark nodded and smiled sweetly at his boyfriend, the Irishman returning the smile and running his hands through Mark’s sweat soaked locks.

“I’ll be back by lunchtime, I hope ya feel better by then”

And with that, Jack was gone, leaving Mark to suffer his sickness by himself.

Mark regretted his decision to let his boyfriend go to work minutes after he left, it was becoming apparent that without someone to take care of him, he’d be struggling to get through the day.

His head throbbed painfully and his whole body was burning up and aching, sickness came in waves and sometimes, the American was only too sure he was going to vomit. He missed Jack’s calming presence and wished that he was back to look after him like the big baby he was.

Hours passed and within that time, Mark felt no improvement to his health whatsoever. Every time he closed his eyes, pain travelled swift through his body and the nausea served to worsen too.

“Jesus christ..” The older man groaned, sitting up in bed after lying there for what felt like days. Mark stood up on shaky legs and made his way toward the bathroom, nearly losing his balance on the way there and having to lean against the walls in the hallway to evade the dizziness.

He was only too sure he was dying.

He entered the bathroom and leaned against the sink, looking in the mirror to be met with his pasty and sweaty reflection. “Maybe a cold shower will do me good” Mark said, glancing at the shower in question before he looked at the mirror again.

As he stared at his reflection however, a sharp red hint appeared in his eyes before it quickly disappeared again. Mark gasped, surprised and confused to what had just happened.

“I’m probably just hallucinating..” The American mumbled, going over to the shower and starting the taps, allowing the water to run cold before he began to remove his clothes. Disgusted as he realised they’d been stuck to him with sweat.

Mark climbed into the shower and sighed in content when the icy water began to hit at his sweltering body, immediately cooling him much to his satisfaction and easing away the awful headache he’d been having.

After his shower, the older man made his way back to his room and pulled on a fresh pair of pajama pants and an old shirt, feeling better now that he’d cleaned away all the filth that had been stuck to his skin.

Sheer exhaustion got the better of him and he fell asleep, but not before his body began to violently twitch and convulse, Mark having no knowledge as he slept soundly.

His mouth fell open and he began to gag and groan, fitting rapidly on the bed and twisting into unimaginable positions. Dark smoke began to escape his throat and manifest beside him. The manifestation becoming the form of a man who looked exactly like him, only his eyes were coloured black with red pupils shining noticeably.

“Finally, years of being trapped in that idiot and finally I’m free again” The man spoke, looking down at Mark and scoffing when he realised that he probably wouldn’t wake for a long time. Lost to the world in a near comatose state.

Jack arrived home only an hour after, he’d hadn’t had a phone call or text from Mark so he had assumed that he must have been doing better. He placed his keys in the bowl beside their door and took off his jacket, placing it onto the side of the sofa before collapsing on the sofa itself.

“Welcome home baby”

Looking behind him, the Irishman grinned when he saw Mark standing in the hallway, looking almost immediately better than he had been earlier. “Yer lookin’ good, I told ya you’d be better soon!”

The older man chuckled softly and walked over to Jack, sitting down beside him on the couch and leaning in to kiss him on the lips much to the other man’s reluctance. “Jus’ cause ya feelin’ better, doesn’t mean yer not still contagious doofus” He laughed, running his hands through Jack’s hair.

“I just thought I’d give you a little welcome home present..” The sheer tone of his voice had shivers travelling through Jack, biting down on his lip and swallowing thickly. “Wh-what kind of present?”

The American chuckled and began to lay the younger man down on the sofa, pulling up his shirt to reveal his stomach. He leaned down and pressed kisses along it, earning a soft exhale from the man below him.

“Wait here..”

Feeling excited, Jack stayed exactly where he was and closed his eyes, expecting that Mark was going to surprise him with something new.

A soft chuckle escaped the man as he walked into the kitchen, knowing that Jack was completely and utterly oblivious to his actions as he searched around in the cutlery drawers and pulled out a large steak knife. A dark grin appearing on his face as he made his way back to the other man.

“Keep your eyes closed, it’ll make it more of a surprise..” The Irishman grinned and nodded his head, feeling as Mark pulled up his shirt even more to expose the full length of his belly before he pressed the tip of the knife into his flesh, not stabbing but instead inspecting his skin.

Feeling something sharp pressed against his stomach, Jack tried not to make any fuss about it and guessed that this must have been the surprise. “Ya gonna show me then?”

He lifted the knife away and hovered it over his upper abdomen. “Yeah.. I’m gonna show you” Lifting his arm high, he readied himself to stab and launched forward, only to be stopped in his actions by someone grabbing his arm.

“Get the fuck away from him.”

Mark was currently stood behind him, he twisted his arm and the knife fell from his hand as he yelled out in pain. Falling to the ground with a thud as Jack opened his eyes, gasping when he saw two Marks in front of him.

“What in the ever-lovin’ fuck is goin’ on?!” Standing up from the floor, the other man threw himself at Mark and they fell against the sofa, the knife just out of their reach as Jack backed away from them both, confusion getting the better of him.

The older man punched the dark figure in the face and pushed him off of him, running over to Jack and standing in front of him in a protective stance. “Stay away from Jack. You have no reason to hurt him.”

A scoff left the other man and he picked up the knife from the floor, placing his finger at the tip and playing with it. “That’s when you’re wrong. You love him and since my purpose is to destroy your life, why not start by killing Jack?” The man himself hid further behind his lover, feeling terrified.

“Who is that?..” He asked, fear filling him at the aspect of being killed for the sake of getting to Mark. “Oh sorry, did I not introduce myself? I’m Dark, here to make your boyfriend’s life a fucking misery”

Mark glared at him and stepped forward, still remaining protective of the younger man behind him. “I swear to god, if you hurt him. I’ll fucking kill you, Dark.” Snorting, Dark gave him a derivative look.  

“Remember the last time you tried to do that Mark? Didn’t end so well did it?” Hints to the large scar going down his torso, the American gritting his teeth as he didn’t want to be reminded of that. He knew for a fact that to defeat Dark, he needed to get him when he was least expecting it.

Taking another step toward him, Mark kept his eyes fully on Dark, not letting him out of his sight. “What must I do, to make you go away?”

Chuckling, the dark man ran his hands through his hair and stared down at the knife in his hand, grinning smugly at him. “Look, Mark. If you even make one wrong move, I’ll gut your boyfriend where he stands” The Irishman gasped, his face paling.

“For fuck’s sake Dark. This has gone on long enough, I got rid of you before. I can do it again”

“Good luck trying then!” And with that, the man charged forward right toward Jack, the younger man attempting to run away but it was apparent that this guy was much faster. Mark chased him, rugby-tackling him to the ground.

Mark successfully pinned his hands to the floor and snatched away the knife, throwing it away from his reach and panting hard as he glared down at the man he’d come to hate throughout his life. “Face it, Dark. You’re done for.”

“Your confidence is cute, I’ll miss it though”

Out of nowhere, a knife manifested itself into Dark’s hand and he gripped it tight, Mark not seeing it. “Mark! Watch out!” Jack cried out, but it was too late. Dark plunged the weapon hard and fast into Mark’s stomach, pulling down the flesh to open him up before he pulled it out. Blood gushing as Mark collapsed to the floor in shock.

Dark stood up and began to laugh, watching as the older man began to twitch and convulse at the unbearable pain caused by the knife wound, blood pooling around him and saturating his clothes.

“Just face it Mark! You’re done for!” He carried on laughing, a dark expression on his face as he watched the man he’d fought so hard to destroy, begin to die.

“Might wanna rephrase yer choice of words..”

Turning around, Dark was met with the sight of Jack as he launched the steak knife from before into his throat, stabbing multiple times before a dark mist escaped the holes now forming in his neck. “NO. NO THIS CAN’T BE!” He tried to yell, his words choked out as he fell to the floor and exploded into a dust cloud, finally erased from existence.

Chucking the knife onto the ground with a loud clatter, Jack ran over to his lover and immediately ripped off his shirt, noticing just how big the stab wound was. “O-oh god.. Mark.. Oh god..”

Mark’s whole body was trembling as he tried to fight through the god awful pain that was threatening to take over him. “J-Jack.. I.. Thank you..” Tears began to fill the Irishman’s eyes, holding his boyfriend’s head on his lap as he started to speak.

“I’m so sorry Mark.. I’m so sorry..” Jack started sobbing, tears falling down and landing on Mark’s blood splattered face. “Don’t a-apologise.. You did n-nothing wrong..” A shaky hand rose up, holding the side of Jack’s face as he stroked at his cheek.

“Please don’t die..”

Tears fell down the American’s cheeks, knowing that was something he couldn’t reassure him about. His whole body began to weaken, knowing that it was beginning to give up on him. “I’m sorry b-baby.. I can’t m-make any promises..”

Hiding his head for a short moment in his shoulder as he cried harder, the younger man leaned down and pressed a soft kiss against Mark’s lips, feeling the other man return it before he reserved his energy for breathing.

“I l-love you so much..” Mark whispered, his hand slipping away from Jack’s face only for the Irishman to grab it and squeeze it tight. “I love yeh too..”

With the last of his energy, Mark smiled at him and allowed his eyes to fall shut, no longer looking up at the gorgeous sight that was his boyfriend. His breathing grew shallow and sharp until his chest stilled, Jack feeling cold rise up in him.

Mark was dead.

anonymous asked:

"By saying this, I may ruin out friendship. But, um, I love you." Candy and Castiel? I love your writings btw :)

Hi, thank you~ that’s so nice to hear ^^ hope you like this one as well


I can’t stop myself from staring at Castiel as he playes the guitar, Lysander singing at the same. He looks even more stunning while playing, the proud and teasing look at his face when he catches my eyes almost irresistable. I turn my gaze to Lysander, who has one of the most beautiful voices I’ve ever heard, but still it isn’t quite the same. For some reason I like Castiel’s raspier, a little bit out of tune voice better.

As the song ends, they both let out a deep sigh, but look happy anyways. “That went pretty well. But I’d still want you to sing as well” Lysander says, making the redhead snort. “No way. I’m not as good as you” he replies, shaking his head and taking a water bottle from the floor. “Candy, say something. We have to change his mind” Lysander turns to me, smiling. “Yeah, I agree with Lys. You should totally sing. Your voices fit together very well. It would sound great” I say, really wanting to hear him sing once more.

“Well.. Okay, let’s try it. But if it doesn’t sound good, we’ll forget it” he gives up easily for once, leaving Lysander and I looking at each other confusedly. “Okay. Let’s try it” Lysander chuckles as he hands out the lyrics for Castiel and they begin the song once again.

“When you’re dreaming with a broken heart
The waking up is the hardest part
You roll out of bed and down on your knees
And for a moment you can hardly breathe
Wondering was she really here
Was she standing in my room?
No she’s not
Cause she’s gone gone gone gone gone..” They had made a little bit faster and rock-ish version of John Mayer’s Dreaming with a broken heart and I would be lying if I said it didn’t send shivers down my spine.

“Wow…” Is my only reaction as they finish, making Castiel smirk. “Oh, I was that good?” he asks, probably expecting for me to blush and deny it, but I nod at him, smiling. “Yes. It was great! You should totally sing more often” I smile at the boy, who shrugs. “Maybe I will” he replies shortly, going back to playing.

As they finish with practise, Castiel offers to take me home. “It’s already late and little girls shouldn’t walk alone when it gets dark” he had explained in a very Castiel like fashion and I couldn’t help but to roll my eyes at him. So here we are, walking in complete silence. We don’t say a word before getting back to my house.

“So.. I’ll see you tomorrow” I smile at the boy, ready to go inside, but he stops me. “Wait! I… I have to tell you something” he says and I turn to look at him, surprised to see him blushing. “Yeah?” I ask, waiting for him to continue.

“By saying this, I may ruin our friendship.. But, umm, Iloveyou” his voice is so quiet and he talks so quickly I can’t quite catch what he said. “What?” I ask, and he shakes his head. “Nothing. Never mind. It was nothing..” he mumbles, ready to go, but this time it’s me who stops him from going. “What did you say?” I ask again and he doesn’t even look at me as he repeats his words. “I love you..” I freeze at the words, just staring at the redhead.

“No way… You’re lying..” I mumble, trying my best to stay calm. “This is one of your jokes, right? If I say that I love you back you’ll laugh and tell me what a little kid I am for believing?” I try not to sound too hurt, but I can’t help it. I don’t want to hear him joke about this.

“No! I really mean it! I love you. I only realized it some time ago but I want to date you, okay? This is not a joke” he sounds desperate with his words and a loving smile forms onto my lips. “You mean it?” I ask again and he nods. “That’s good.. Cause I really do love you back” I giggle at the dumbfound boy, before a wide smile spreads all over his face.

I let out a squeel as he lifts me up, laughing lightly. “You’re not joking right?” He asks as he lowers me down so that there’s only mere inches between our faces. I shake my head, grinning back at the other, who suddenly presses his lips on mine. It’s just lips pressed together, but I could feel the happy smile on his face, which makes it even more better. “I guess I don’t have to dream with a broken heart tonight” he jokes after pulling away.

Without you I’m nothing- Yoongi angst

I would like to request a really angsty Yoongi and it either somehow ends really fluffy or its a sad and painful angst end. Thank you. Xxx

A/N: To the anon who requested this. I hope you are happy. I cried writing this. XDDD

Yoongi stood there, in your hospital room, staring at your sleeping figure, and he couldn’t stop the tears from forming in his eyes. You were pale, your skin seemed stretched over your body, your frame looked frail and weak, there were purple circles under your eyes, and your lips were pale and chapped. He watched your body, hooked onto so many different machines and wires and liquids, he didn’t even know what three quarters of them were all for.

He was no doctor, but he knew having so many things connected to you at once meant nothing good, and his heart ached at the thought of it. He felt weak, he felt worthless. It was just now that he realized how small he was, how he was one small man, all alone, against the vast immensity and power of the universe. He was nothing. He had no power.

At moments like these, he scoffed when he heard someone tell him how lucky he was, how happy he must be, being an idol, seeing the world, and earning so much money, because not even all the money in the world, would be able to stop the inevitable avalanche of disasters that were about to come his way.

The only comfort he had now, was listening to your heart beat, and knowing that, at least for now, you were still there, still with him, but he knew that wouldn’t last long, and he feared the moment it would all end. He knew he wasn’t strong enough to carry on with life without you. You were his life.

Yoongi had always known you were sick, he knew your body was weak, and your health was poor, but he was drawn in by your smile, that held such love and happiness behind it, so much life radiated from you, almost as if you didn’t care that you were dying.

He never really gave much thought about what would happen to him when you died, because he had already fallen, the moment his eyes laid on you, and he didn’t want to think about the pain before it arrived. He now regretted his mistake, knowing he should have prepared himself for the agony his heart was feeling.

You had always told him you didn’t want him to treat you as if you were dying, you wanted him to love you just the way you were, you wanted to live your life to the fullest, without worrying about tomorrow.

“Death is but the next great adventure!” You quoted Dumbledore to him, smiling brightly, and he agreed, even though a knot tied in his stomach the moment you said those words.

He knew you couldn’t study, or work, your body was too weak for that, so he often had you at the studio, writing songs with you and for you, and hearing the music he made. You became his muse, all of his words flowed perfectly when he had you near, when he thought about you, because finally all of the words of love were sincere.

The boys disagreed with his decision of dating you, even though they too had grown to love you, because they knew he would be destroyed once you were gone, and they knew you would leave, even though Yoongi refused to see it.

He tried, really hard, to imagine a world without you, but that would be like asking someone to imagine a world without the sun, a world without air, a world without music. It just wasn’t right. It didn’t make sense.

He watched you stir slightly in your bed, sitting up slightly, opening your eyes, and smiling at him weakly. Yoongi wiped his tears quickly, and returned your smile with a gummy one of his own. You pressed the button to call the nurse, feeling slightly dizzy and faint.

“I think it’s time…” You whispered, feeling inside you Heaven was calling for you. Yoongi choked on air, and nodded, grabbing your hand tightly in his, and kissing the knuckles on it repeatedly. Tears began to roll wildly down his face. He didn’t usually cry, but right now he wasn’t the man he used to be, you had changed him.

“Will you stay with me?” You asked him, your eyesight becoming blurry. So you focused on his face, trying to remember every single one of his features to take it with you to the afterlife.

“I promise” he choked out, his tears running down his cheeks and nose, his eyes red and puffy, and his voice hoarse.

You gently wiped his tears with your thumbs, still smiling, although your eyes started tearing up.

“Don’t cry… I’ll be fine. I’m not scared Yoongi.” You assured him, although something inside you shifted when you said that. He nodded, and kissed your lips, once, twice, three times, trying to remember the way they felt, the way they tasted.

“I love you Y/N… Never forget that. I love you. I’ll stay here until the end.” He promised, kissing you once again, before resting his forehead against yours.

The nurse came in, and injected something into you, to sedate you, so you wouldn’t feel it when you passed. She looked at you with sadness in her eyes, and she wondered once again, why she had ever chosen this job.

“I love you too Yoongi, more than life itself. Thank you.” You told him, smiling, a tear rolling down your face, over your lips.

“For what?” he asked, his voice gruff.

“For teaching me what true love is. For making me happy in my last moments. I love you Yoongi…. I love you.” You replied, your eyes fluttering shut, as things started to become dark.

“I love you Y/N…” He replied, trying to stay strong for you, but the moment your hand’s grip lessened, and the monitor flatlined, he lost all his cool. He knew you couldn’t hear him anymore but he screamed out for you, holding onto your hand.

“Y/N? Y/N! Y/N PLEASE DON’T GO! Y/N PLEASE DON’T LEAVE ME! I NEED YOU! PLEASE Y/N I NEED YOU! PLEASE DON’T GO!” He yelled, tears now rolling out of his eyes so quickly his vision had become blurry. A couple of doctors had to come in to drag him out of the room, while he screamed and fought against them, trying to push his way back into the room. His heart broke. His soul left his body, and he no longer recognized himself.

Without you, he was nothing. He was less than half the man he used to be. Without you there was no life, no hope, no music. He dropped to the floor, on his knees, a loud how of pain leaving his throat, as the tears hit the cold marble floor. He clutched at his chest, where his heart had been ripped from, and silently he made you a promise.

“I will be there with you soon.” He thought to himself. Because without you, living wasn’t worth it at all. Without you, nothing had a meaning. Without you, he was already dead.

4

I appreciate you!!!

I’ve been getting a lot of followers recently (20 in the past few days, followers weisshaupt) and I wanna like thank you guys or something. My drawings aren’t that great (art school critiques tell me that every day) and my writing is pretty dull, but I can make pretty swell pixel art and I really like doing that. 

So as a way to thank you guys for following me (almost to fifty wow) I wanna draw your OCs/Inquisitors~!

You don’t have to be my follower to send me an OC but it’d be nice if you followed anyway. Just send me a link or a picture for reference and what size and details you want for the picture. I will say that the 100x100 portraits do take a while because they are detailed but they are worth it.

Again thanks~

Ashton | You Are My Sunshine

Requested: Yes | Word Count: 3400+

By anon: I’d like to request a ZombieApocalypse!AU, pick any boy you want :)

Trigger Warning: blood, violence, my attempts at graphic descriptions, the living dead, and implied suicide. Please be mindful of reading when you get queasy about such things! ;////;)’



       You are my sunshine, my only sunshine.


You stared up at the ceiling before you turned to the side, eyes widening against the soft yellow glow of your starry nightlight when you saw Ashton staring back at you with his hazel eyes filled with a warmth that made your heart flutter in your chest, the sleepy smile on his face making you smile back sheepishly before you took his hand in yours and gave him a small squeeze.

You just turned seven by then, your birthday party early in the afternoon paving way for an evening get-together for the adults while you and Ashton were ushered into your bedroom for your usual sleepovers. Except its way past one in the morning and the party downstairs has subsided but an hour ago yet you were still wide awake.

Okay, honestly you had slept but only for an hour or two before you woke up from a nightmare and just couldn’t bear to close your eyes again in fear that the monsters lurking behind your closed eyelids would come and get you.

It always happened to you when your mother didn’t sing you that lullaby to help you sleep.

You hated how your getting of good dreams and bad dreams depended on whether or not you heard the soothing hum of a tune from your mother, but you were aware that you were growing up and you needed to try and depend on her less and less.

You could do it, you told yourself over and over again, but the nightmares in your dreams always won over your determination and you’d find yourself staying up the whole night and debating whether it would be better to crawl up to your parents’ room and demand that ‘good dream lullaby’ but then you would be too scared to even walk the short span of hall leading to your parents’ bedroom because you feared that once you left the comfort of your nightlight, the nightmares would attack you.

Your mother always knew when you haven’t been able to sleep well though, hence why in the mornings she would scoop you up and hum you that tune so you could get that rest you couldn’t acquire the night before.

Once you started going to school, it was a little hard to make up for lost sleep in the morning though but you managed somehow, especially since you met Ashton who was in the same class as you and always entertained you with his doodles or his beats with the plastic table and a pair of unsharpened pencils.

And when he came to know about your little sleeping issue one day he slept over in your room and you didn’t get your lullaby, he braved the dark halls to call your mother who was immediately by your side and hushing you to sleep with a tune Ashton came to be acquainted with as well.

Then on some days when your mother couldn’t sing for you, Ashton took it upon himself to try and be the one to help you instead of going to your mother for help. The first time he tried it was on your sixth birthday, his raspy and sometimes out of tune voice making you chuckle at first before you’d hold his hand and sing along with him, this becoming a ritual for you that made you sleep just a little better, rather than when your mother alone sang the song or hummed the tune.

“Did you have a nightmare again?” Ashton murmured that early morning and you shyly nodded.

And you expected him to laugh at you and tease you about how you were seven and old enough to not depend on lullabies but Ashton only withdrew his hands from your hold and hugged you tight, encasing you in his eight-year-old stature before he hummed the lullaby against your hair.

Then when he was done he would slightly part himself from you and smile as he admired your sleeping face with the faint glow of yellow from the nightlight and the natural blue hue as light bounced off of your walls painted a baby blue with patterns of pink roses.

Ashton would then brush your hair out of your forehead before he’d lean down to kiss the space he’s uncovered.

It was another nightly ritual of his, one that you didn’t know of, and one Ashton probably wouldn’t want to tell you any sooner either because his siblings were teasing him enough of this little crush he’s been harboring on you ever since you two got partnered for an art class where you had to draw the other and you literally just drew a yellow circle with a smiley face before showing it to class and saying:

“Mr. Sun always keeps my nightmares away just like Ashton does but Ashton is warmer, so he’s the best sun in the world!”


       You make me happy when skies are gray.

 

Your best friend had just started ignoring you after her crush admitted to the whole class that he liked you, and to top it off she had to go off and tell everyone about your little nightmare episodes and the class began singing you your ‘good dream lullaby’ in such condescending tones that hearing the song from them made your stomach churn in disgust and anxiety.

You didn’t even like the guy; honestly you didn’t even do anything to make him like you. You were only twelve and yes, you were finally able to sleep some nights without the lullaby being sung to you but there were definitely the days you still needed it and it just hurt to have everyone rubbing your weakness to your face like that.

The teacher tried to calm every one down, but they just wouldn’t stop, and in fit of frustration and fear from being ridiculed much longer, you had ran out of the classroom and ended up on the playground off to the side of your little elementary school, your hands frustratingly rubbing against your eyes but the tears just wouldn’t stop.

Your mind began to race with thoughts of why you were so different, anger against yourself bubbling in your throat until it was released with wrecked sobs and your broken hums of the song that made you feel like you were always safe.

Except after all the mocking that your classmates did to you, the lullaby once soothed you just made you feel a bit worse about everything.

You admitted that it was extremely childish of you to still not be able to sleep peacefully without the aid of a song but they just didn’t know.

Right now the song wasn’t just to keep you sleeping soundly, it was a memory you could hold, one of the most vivid and precious reminder that your mother had once existed in this world the song was the only way you could hold her as close to your heart as possible ever since that freak accident one year ago when she was on her way home from work.

And now that you were getting older, your father had decided that sleepovers with Ashton just weren’t going to be alright anymore. Your father loved you and made sure to sing you the lullaby when you couldn’t sleep though, but he just was different from your mother’s natural comforting tone, and much more different than Ashton’s late-night raspy tunes.

You’ve been crying so much you didn’t notice someone standing in front of you, and when you flinched by a ruffling motion by your head, you looked up to see Ashton with a worried smile.

He was on a different class this year, and you were slightly curious as to why he was here.

“Your teacher told me what happened.” He started, and you only looked down in embarrassment before confusion filled your features the moment Ashton slightly squatted in front of you, his back facing you and he turns his head to the side before smiling at you. “She said it was okay, I’m bringing you home.”

Not really wanting to get back to a class of mockery, you nodded, causing Ashton to look back up front before you slowly left the swings you were seated on and latched onto your best friend.

Ashton hooked his arms onto your legs and you secured your arms lightly around his neck. After a wobbly start of getting up and nearly having the both of your topple back down, Ashton was giving you a piggyback ride, walking you back onto the familiar streets leading to your house and he absentmindedly began humming the lullaby your mother sang to you.

And while you hated it just moments ago, just hearing the tune from Ashton’s lips made you start to like the tune again, just as long as it was coming from him and not from anyone else.

It’s about one street more away from your home when you started to doze off and soon slept on him, and Ashton couldn’t help but stiffen up and stop walking for a while, his cheeks flaring a tint of red as he collected himself and slowly started to hum the tune again before continuing to carry you home, soon bringing you up the steps to your bedroom with help from your father who was taking the day-off that day.

He couldn’t stay long because he had to help his mother in cooking dinner, but Ashton made sure that once your father had left your room, the boy brushed your hair out of your face before pressing another kiss to your forehead, a smile forming on your lips in your unconsciousness as Ashton whispered a quick ‘sweet dreams’ to you.


       You’ll never know dear, how much I love you.

 

You’d just turned nineteen and were coming home from university for the holidays. It’s been almost two years since you’d gone back home to the comfort of your humble abode, too long since you’ve felt the hug of your father, and quite a while since you’ve actually seen Ashton face to face.

You see, when you left for university two years ago, Ashton had pretty much gone to pursue his dream of being a musician, dropping off of the last few weeks of high school because of an opportunity to tour the world as an opening act, and you were extremely happy for your best friend of course, though you were a little saddened because you always thought you two would be together forever.

Childish, yes, but you just really wished that would be the case because over the course of the past few years, you’d grown to love your best friend, and when you say love, you don’t mean a familial way though that still exists of course.

Ashton still took care to not lose contact with you though, and you exerted just as much effort to make sure that at least one a week, you two could talk even if it was just a conversation about how the weather was on your sides of the world.

Then on some nights when you couldn’t sleep, you’d be staring at the ceiling, the dark room feeling cramped that you quickly rummaged through a drawer in your dorm room and plugged in that little star nightlight with the soft glow that has comparatively dimmed since the time of your seventh birthday.

You weren’t scared of the dark anymore, and nightmares, you found, were just figments of your imagination and could never be real. You stopped getting them some time ago after you moved to the dorms too, though there are still nights where you needed a little something to help you sleep.

It was more because your mind was restless thinking of paper deadlines and exams rather than nightmares though, and it’s purely coincidence at these kinds of nights when your phone would ring and you would pick up only to hear Ashton singing you the lullaby that would make you smile because even though your best friend was obviously fighting off sleep or about to go on stage, he knew the right times to call you just to make sure you’d get to sleep right.

Pushing away your thoughts of Ashton aside, you fished your house’s spare key out of your pocket and jammed it in the lock before giving it a twist and opening the door.

Then when you were greeted by the sight of the curly haired boy with hazel eyes, you were quick to drop the boxes in your hands, books and other paraphernalia you decided to bring home, now spilled across the wooden floors of the entrance before you’re scooped into a hug that you returned with the tightest squeeze you could muster.

It’s minutes later when you and Ashton were both settled in the sofa in the living room, the TV blaring with a scene from some romance movie neither you nor your best friend were paying attention to.

Your father would be back hours later because of work so you and Ashton had lots of time to yourselves, the two of your just talking about his band which he mentioned was given a break hence why he was able to visit you so out of the blue.

And it’s not too long before Ashton sings your favorite lullaby, and you hummed to his words before you closed your eyes and shifted onto your seat on his lap so you were resting with your back pressed against his chest, your head on his shoulder as Ashton’s arms encase you tightly in a warm embrace.

Then when the song has ended, Ashton takes a small moment to observe you like he’s done countless of times before, except this time around when he tries to kiss your forehead, you tilt your head up so your lips touch with his slightly, and you gave Ashton a cheeky grin before you stand up and cross your arms.

“Since when did you know…?” Ashton chuckled amusedly, and you pondered for a moment before just smiling.

“I wasn’t asleep all those times you did that you know.” You admitted with a slight flush on your cheeks, and Ashton just stands up before smiling at you and pressing a small peck to you lips again, and when you parted you had pressed your foreheads together.

You figured now would be the best time to tell him how much you loved him, and you were never more determined to voice your feelings.

“Listen… Ashton I—”

Your words are cut with a bloodcurdling scream from the street outside and the sound of a crash that sounded so much like glass breaking from a couple houses down.


       Please don’t take my sunshine away.

 

You never believed it could be possible but it happened.

That day when you were interrupted from your confession, you and Ashton had made your way to the nearby window facing the street and you almost swore you could have died from a heart attack had Ashton not pulled you away from the window and draped the curtains shut, his hazel eyes holding the same fear your (e/c) tones held, but he had a lilt of determination in his eyes too, determination to protect you.

Now it’s been a year nearly since the apocalypse started.

Zombies, walkers, whatever you wanted to call those creatures, they were out there in millions, and each day you’d hear a scream in the dead of the night or even bright in the morning, the mangled corpse’s feeding on everything that had a pulse though surprisingly you’ve learned that they steered clear of animals.

You and Ashton had become quite the strong team, not really something you’d like to put on your professional resume but honestly, as long as you and Ashton were together, then things would be fine.

Right now though, Ashton was moving about quickly as he held a gun to his chest, his bloodstained clothes doing well to camouflage him into the backdrop of a sketchy neighborhood, the sprain in his leg after escaping a horde of the living dead sending a shooting pain up his leg but he needed to find you.

Ashton managed to drag majority of the crowd far into the outskirts of the city before returning.

He needed to know you were okay since you both separated to avoid getting caught by the mob.

Ashton got his answer soon though, when he saw you propped up in an alleyway and sitting next to a dumpster, a corpse lying beside your leg with his neck bent at an odd way.

“Are you…” Ashton manages to choke, and you send him your best smile before letting the tears rush down your face, lifting up your arm to reveal a portion of it was oozing blood, the skin torn off and a bit of bone jutting out.

Ashton can’t do anything but kneel down in front of you defeatedly, and you hold out your good arm as you tried to steady your breathing, your hand coming to cup a side of his cheek, your thumb running circles to rub the tears pouring out of his left eye.

“Ashton… don’t cry, please.” You murmured, though the crack at the end of your sentence made your words anything but convincing.

Ashton was silent before he pushed your hand from his cheek away, then he set his knapsack on the ground and began taking out the first aid kit you two gathered way back when, and he attempted to dress your wounds even though you knew nothing would work now.

“Ashton this—”

“Shut the fuck up (F/n).” Ashton said through gritted teeth, his shaking hands holding the bottle of disinfectant slipping past his fingers and spilling onto the bloodstained concrete, his heart breaking into a million pieces right that instant that you swore you could almost hear the crumbling motions. “Why…?” He sobbed, his shaking hands going to wrap a bandage around your arm but you used all your strength to stop him.

“Ashton… I love you, more than you’ll ever know.” You said, tears spilling from your eyes this time around as well. “Please… please just stop it. You’re hurting me when you do this… I don’t want you to—”

“What am I supposed to do (F/n)?!” He shouts, and you were frantically looking around for zombies before you relaxed when you saw none, and you looked at Ashton before using both hands to grab his hands.

“Can you sing to me?”

“(F/n)—”

“Please… It’s my last wish and I… I just want to…” You murmured weakly, and Ashton looked to the ground before he sobbed, his mouth opening as he pushed out that simple line he’s sung to you so many times before, now just a nostalgic piece of comfort for you that reminded you of days when things were alright.

“You… you are my sunshine…”

Ashton sobbed, every word he said felt like a block of ice was lodged down his throat as his hands clasping yours too tight for comfort. And he begins blaming himself that he never should have left you alone, though you know that if he didn’t, then you both wouldn’t have survived.

“My only sunshine…”

You take a hand away from him and Ashton retaliates by hugging you close, and he sobs into your shoulder but you only smile apologetically before clearing your throat.

“You make me… happy…” You finally joined in a broken tune, and Ashton pulls away from you to press his forehead against yours, his hazel eyes looking onto your own glazed (e/c)s, the onset of a dullness starting to spread through the once evident sparkle in your eyes.

“When skies are gray…” You and Ashton sung together.

“You’ll never know, dear…” Ashton mutters with a shaky breath, and he cups your cheeks before pressing a small kiss to your lips, and when he parts he nearly breaks down.

“How much I love you…” The both of you sung together again.

“Please…” Ashton begins, and you smile at your best friend before he finishes the chorus of the lullaby.

With all your strength, you pushed him away, Ashton then falling to the ground and it’s too late for him to stop you when you put the pistol once in his possession to your head because you know it will hurt him more if he saw you become like one of those monsters.

 

Bang.


Please… don’t take my sunshine away.


✖ A/N: ANON, THANK YOU. I HAVE JUST DIED WRITING THIS AND MY HEART HURTS SO BAD RIGHT NOW.

No but honestly though, you would not believe how much I cried. I hope you like it though! I suddenly got hit by feels listening to a music box version of You Are My Sunshine and felt inspired to do the Zombie Apocalypse!AU Request. Feedback is greatly appreciated!

And to the anon that requested this, I know you said I could choose any boy I like but now I want to do one for each. If you guys want me to continue this one-shot series with the rest of the guys, please do tell me too!

Now excuse me, I need to rest my heart.

New Rule to Requesting.

There is a new rule that I am adding for Requesting.

It has been bumped to number 4. The rule is…

4. Please try to be kind when requesting! If I feel like a request is rude or slamming the way I write or something I have wrote, I have the choice to not take the request. In this case I will tell you that I find your request slightly rude and will ask you to request again with a kinder tone to your request. 


I love writing for you! I will treat you with respect if you treat me with respect. Please try to be kind when you request. 

anonymous asked:

Do you know what the pocky game is? If so I would like to request Germany + England + China + Romano + Italy, when their s\o plays the pocky game with some country that is not them? Thank you!

Germany/Ludwig Ludwig would ask you why you would want to play such a silly game. Once the game started he would try to hide his jealousy but failing. He had his death glare on, the one that would make anyone pee their pants. He made the person you were playing with so scared that they broke the pocky off on purpose.

England/Arthur He would be sooo jealous and it would be so noticeable. His face slightly red and stuck in a pout. While playing the game you would hear him huffing and whispering so thing about a bloody wanker. He’d be grumpy for the rest of the day.

China/Yao China wouldn’t be too upset, he understood that it was just again but once your lips touched he changed his mind, after the game he gave who ever you played with a dirty look.

Romano/Lovino His face would turn bright red because of the anger he felt, someone else but him kissing you, he wasn’t standing for that, you could expect him to stop you before you even put the pocky in your mouth.

Italy/Feliciano Feli would be hurt that you would be touching lips with someone other than him. He would want to leave the room or at lest turn around but he couldn’t take his eyes of of you. After you were done the game he made you give him a big kiss

-admin Gabi

anonymous asked:

Himuro, Hanamiya, Murasakibara, Hara, Kise, Aomine, Midorima: Fem s/o playing otome games and the guys are intrigued by this new concept? Have them support her new fandom hobby + discuss w her about her #1 fave character. Then they either approve of her #1 chosen guy, or be disapproval of her tastes but recommend someone else they think would suit her better. No jealousy involved if possible!

This was one of the first requests to come in and I’m really sorry to have to do this already but I don’t feel that comfortable writing something so constricted :/ I feel like this request already spells itself out and personally I feel that it defeats the purpose of requesting something from a scenario blog in which the product is made from an idea or concept rather from a script.

Again, I’m really sorry and I apologize that this isn’t what you wanted or expected.