09-03-2020, 03:34 AM
IF MY LIFE IS GOING
TO MEAN ANYTHING,
I HAVE TO LIVE IT
MYSELF.
tiguar . young . he/him
demigod of the deep
demigod of the deep
//human AU
Tears, warm and sticky, rolled down Deniz as he sniffled into his arms, the fold out bed creaking underneath him. He kept his cries as quiet as he good, wishing to not disturb his roommate. She had her own issues to deal with, she wouldn't want his stacked atop her thinning shoulders. He knew what she thought, that he had moved in as a way of looking after. He kept with the story, hiding the reality of the situation. Was he worried for her? Sure, she was a dear friend of his. As foolish as it was, he would dub her his best, though he assumed the feeling wasn't mutual. She had the others for that, after all. He was the outlier, lingering at the edges of their friendship.
He didn't match them, he felt. They had all come from lands far away, independent. Meanwhile he had been born here, coddled by his mother and hard-pressed to leave her side. A momma's boy who still cried at the drop of the hat, despite having long left the age that was deemed acceptable. In truth, he didn't know why he was here, so far away from the hut he had grown up in. Some attempt at independence where, in reality, he had chosen someone new to latch onto.
A desperation for separation from the memories that haunted his every step, of holes that had been drilled into his chest by loss. The loving boy, who had once met every situation with a smile, had learned to face the world with a snarl, or else it rip away all that you love. Once a trio of three, with Elduin and Mariner, he had become the finale, an ending dim and unfinished. There had come another round, he prayed none of them met the same fate. A cruel thing it was, to lose sister, then brother, then mother. Like a round of bullets fired into his chest, knocking him from the tree he'd climb to be able to see the sky.
He craved for what had been lost, scraping for something to fill the loneliness that plauge his every breath, a stop to the tears that flowed ceaselessly. He was a fool, thinking he could find that here. What kind of fool was he, imposing himself upon a girl his own age with her own pain and strife. A fool to enter her home and ask for it to be his own, to think he had a place here. A fools errand for the lonely boy.
He gave a swift shake of his head, scrubbing at his already reddened face with tear-slicked palms. His eyes flickered upwards, to the wood that stretched over his head and held his roommate's bed. He wondered for a moment if she resided there, if he should check. Swiftly, he decided against it, and began to move quietly throughout the bottom half of their shared home. He hadn't many belongings, these days. Two feathers, one auburn and one green, pressed between the pages of a worn book and slipped into a leather satchel. Followed by two feathers, one in a deep orange and another stripped by a russet brown and white. Small moments, representing some of those he healed near and dear to his heart. With his few belongings packed, he snagged a paper and pen from his bag and made a simple note, folding it and propping it on the counter.
'Sorry for imposing'
Without sparring a glance to where Geo may potentially lay, he slipped from the treehouse and down to the ground, satchel thumping against his hip. The sound of twigs snapping underfoot and the distant crashing of waves surrounded him, white noise as his mind churned and screamed. It would be many minutes before he would come to a stop, the feeling of cold water slapping against his legs shocking him from his tumultuous thoughts. After a moment of glancing around, a harsh realization would slap him across the face, bringing further tears to the boys face.
There was a scattering of towels, abandoned and caught around the legs of forgotten tables. Footprints in the sand, walking beside a path dug by a boat pushed down the beach. The scene of a funeral, long over but never forgotten. The scene of his own mother's funeral, though she wasn't by blood. The boy, only 16, felt his shoulders tremble and he ripped his satchel off, securing it closed and tossing it further up the beach, away from thereach of the ocean's waves.
With that, the boy fell, sinking down to his knees as he curled in on himself, sobbing. On the beach where his late mother had been sent out to sea, he finally allowed himself to grieve.
Tears, warm and sticky, rolled down Deniz as he sniffled into his arms, the fold out bed creaking underneath him. He kept his cries as quiet as he good, wishing to not disturb his roommate. She had her own issues to deal with, she wouldn't want his stacked atop her thinning shoulders. He knew what she thought, that he had moved in as a way of looking after. He kept with the story, hiding the reality of the situation. Was he worried for her? Sure, she was a dear friend of his. As foolish as it was, he would dub her his best, though he assumed the feeling wasn't mutual. She had the others for that, after all. He was the outlier, lingering at the edges of their friendship.
He didn't match them, he felt. They had all come from lands far away, independent. Meanwhile he had been born here, coddled by his mother and hard-pressed to leave her side. A momma's boy who still cried at the drop of the hat, despite having long left the age that was deemed acceptable. In truth, he didn't know why he was here, so far away from the hut he had grown up in. Some attempt at independence where, in reality, he had chosen someone new to latch onto.
A desperation for separation from the memories that haunted his every step, of holes that had been drilled into his chest by loss. The loving boy, who had once met every situation with a smile, had learned to face the world with a snarl, or else it rip away all that you love. Once a trio of three, with Elduin and Mariner, he had become the finale, an ending dim and unfinished. There had come another round, he prayed none of them met the same fate. A cruel thing it was, to lose sister, then brother, then mother. Like a round of bullets fired into his chest, knocking him from the tree he'd climb to be able to see the sky.
He craved for what had been lost, scraping for something to fill the loneliness that plauge his every breath, a stop to the tears that flowed ceaselessly. He was a fool, thinking he could find that here. What kind of fool was he, imposing himself upon a girl his own age with her own pain and strife. A fool to enter her home and ask for it to be his own, to think he had a place here. A fools errand for the lonely boy.
He gave a swift shake of his head, scrubbing at his already reddened face with tear-slicked palms. His eyes flickered upwards, to the wood that stretched over his head and held his roommate's bed. He wondered for a moment if she resided there, if he should check. Swiftly, he decided against it, and began to move quietly throughout the bottom half of their shared home. He hadn't many belongings, these days. Two feathers, one auburn and one green, pressed between the pages of a worn book and slipped into a leather satchel. Followed by two feathers, one in a deep orange and another stripped by a russet brown and white. Small moments, representing some of those he healed near and dear to his heart. With his few belongings packed, he snagged a paper and pen from his bag and made a simple note, folding it and propping it on the counter.
'Sorry for imposing'
Without sparring a glance to where Geo may potentially lay, he slipped from the treehouse and down to the ground, satchel thumping against his hip. The sound of twigs snapping underfoot and the distant crashing of waves surrounded him, white noise as his mind churned and screamed. It would be many minutes before he would come to a stop, the feeling of cold water slapping against his legs shocking him from his tumultuous thoughts. After a moment of glancing around, a harsh realization would slap him across the face, bringing further tears to the boys face.
There was a scattering of towels, abandoned and caught around the legs of forgotten tables. Footprints in the sand, walking beside a path dug by a boat pushed down the beach. The scene of a funeral, long over but never forgotten. The scene of his own mother's funeral, though she wasn't by blood. The boy, only 16, felt his shoulders tremble and he ripped his satchel off, securing it closed and tossing it further up the beach, away from thereach of the ocean's waves.
With that, the boy fell, sinking down to his knees as he curled in on himself, sobbing. On the beach where his late mother had been sent out to sea, he finally allowed himself to grieve.
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☼ BUT I DON'T MEAN TO COMPLAIN, I PROMISE !
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