#gret van fleet

[sinners-go-to-drink-the-wine]

CHOMNP.

#CHOMNP #jake kiszka #gvf #gret van fleet

[binarysunset17]

Normally id get my fixations out by drawing or listening to music.. bur Mirador hasnt released songs yet and my art supplies are packed away cuz im moving .. so i sit here refreshing my page cuz thats all a girl can do rn

#jake kiszka #mirador #gret van fleet #fuck

[cal-a-bungaa]

The Realm

The Realm Part Six - Prince!Jake Kiszka

Synopsis: Both so close to getting what was wanted from one another, but yet again, another trial has separated the two.

Word count: 4.5k

Warnings: Violence, weapons, mentions/descriptions of death, slightly steamy

Enjoy! Sorry this took me so long!!! And huge thank you to @capturethechaos and @writingcold for your help on this!

__________

Months ago you would have ran straight into his arms, greeting him with nothing but love. Now, you stand before him with your palms sweating and nails piercing into your skin. Jake was unmoving too, keeping to the saddle of his stallion. From a distance he still looks like your Jake, the prince who stole your heart with nothing more than his eyes. To know that those eyes now stare at you with such darkness and hatred, broke you. 

_____

His heart still raced with her in sight. It still beat for her and only her. Her blue dress reminded him of the bright sky that painted the world around them and how the sun made its presence known in the heat of its beams. It had Jake submitting to the warmth, feeling his twin reside within him. 

Jake let her soak in his presence for more than he’d like to admit. He didn’t do it for her, but for himself to get one good look at her before she hates him forever. He was selfish with her and the love she gave. He wanted her to continue looking at him in such a light rather than the distaste that is to come once he climbs off the black stallion he’s seated upon. She was his, always would be but this needed to happen in Jake’s eyes; there was no other option now that Josh had met his end by the hands of those who wore the Werian crest. 

It wasn’t your fault, he knew that much. But you were an accomplice with your father being the cruel warrior that the tales told. Whilst he was a good king and father, he was nothing less than brutal to his enemies on the battlefield. He trained his men that same way; the loss of morality when holding a blade or bow. The only one the old king did not raise to be ruthless was his sweet princess. He showed her how to be a good ruler without the need for bloodshed but nonetheless he was hypocritical in his ways. He spilt the blood of another king, not once but twice and took no blame for it. 

Even though she stood before him, adoration still rested in her irises. But she looked like a total stranger; this was not the princess he left behind all those agonizing months ago. She was never one to care for modesty and now is covered head to toe in clothing, not a sliver of skin seen. Even the jewels she once donned and admired took no residence upon her skin except a crown which she’d never done before, opting to stay far away from that part of herself until necessary. There was a drastic difference in the person before him and he could not pin what it was. Possibly the heartbreak he had the both of them go through, but even then it didn’t seem right. 

Jake could see that his cherished was not herself, she is embodying a persona. Observing the changes within her had him momentarily forget why he was even at the doorstep of her home. Now was not the time to notice how his darling princess was a stranger. 

Unsheathing his sword, the king of Strainad descended his stallion. He could hear the clatter of metal from behind him as he gathered back his lost courage to approach her. Walking out from behind the dark horse, his bloodied armor is revealed and how dirtied he was from wrestling Werian soldiers from killing him or others. The guards surrounding her pointed their own swords at him, raising their shields high. Jake can no longer see her beauty, blocked by the Werian symbol. He can hear a faint whisper with each step he takes up the stone stairs and soon she reappears before him, closer but still so distant. 

          As he reaches the top step, the guards take formation behind her rather than in front. “You put trust in me that much?” He promptly asks, thumb caressing the handle of the weapon he wields. 

          “Trust?” Her voice… Jake can feel the muscles relax, soothing at the sound of her speaking to him. “It’s not trust, it’s a firm belief I have.” 

          “I’ve not come for you so your belief may step aside.”

          The princess does not stand down, taking more steps to be almost flush against him. Jake can feel his heart pounding and his face heating up at their close proximity. “The one you seek is not here.” He watches how her eyes flash him with sadness. 

          “I will not play this game,” Jake tightens his grip on his sword. Her eyes break away from his own to glance down at the steel he holds. She looks uneasy, almost afraid of such a blade. “Move.” 

          When she meets his gaze again, it is stone cold. No trace of any emotion is left behind. “No.” 

          “I do not wish to hurt you, but if I must,” the king goes to raise his sword towards her, “then I will.”

          The guards behind her all take a stance, ready to attack if he makes any threatening move. But she is quicker, lifting her own blade to Jake's throat as his comes to rest beside hers. He eyes the dagger, trying to place a finger on why it looks familiar. The sharp point digs into the skin just below his jaw, ready to be painted crimson. Jake can’t help but smirk as he observes the blade she holds against him, admiring her fierceness that had never presented itself before him. She truly was a different person now than she was when they were to be wed. No longer innocent and afraid of her own shadow, but a strong princess that was ready to take the throne as her own. 

          “Where’d you learn that quick trick, dear?” Jake grins, finding it all so amusing. Her frown deepens, pushing the dagger further into his dirtied tan skin. No response to his commentary comes from the princess, just flared nostrils and heated eyes. “Just tell me where he is and this will be over.” 

          Her stance falters for a moment, giving Jake the perfect opportunity to bring his free hand up and knock the dagger from her grip. He winces at the sting it brings as it slices him. The small blade clatters to the ground and he now holds her wrist tightly. His nostrils flare, letting the anger he’s felt take over. Jake was tired of the games, even if she was the one playing them. He needed the old king dead. Her guards all take a step towards the two of them, one goes as far to say, “on your command, your majesty.” Your majesty. 

          The crown, the title…. It all made sense now. The king had perished and he was not informed. His love was now the queen to a great kingdom. He shed the blood of his beloved's men… she had her men kill his brother. It started with the late king and continued on with her. Jake’s grip tightened around her wrist, bruising already taking form along her skin. He watches as her lips move, but cannot hear anything besides the ringing in his ears and his own cries he made less than a day ago. Without Jake taking notice, the Werian guards all stand down, taking residence behind the now closed wooden doors. He hadn’t even realized that he was pushing her backwards until her back met a wall. 

If there was no king then he would have to take the queen, but how could he? Even in his clouded mind, he still saw her. 

_____

Your head was the first to collide with the brick wall, sending jolts of pain throughout your body. Jake was so lost in thought, ready to fall off the edge. His nostrils flared and his breathing had picked up drastically. He still held your wrist, but now above your head. 

“Do you realize what you have done?” Jake doesn’t even look at you as he speaks, rather looking at his muddy boots. “Do you even care that you killed him?” Jake spits out at you.  

Jake drops his sword to the cold floor, listening intently to the clanking metal before taking your throat in his grip too. He held you in place, trying to not be rough with you unless necessary. You try to fight his strength, pushing yourself away from the wall into him. Jake pushes you back into place, harder than before, your head throbbing from being slammed into the stone. His thumb caresses the skin of your neck softly, getting scarily closer to the scabbed over wound that was given to you in the night. 

His eyes are glossed over and stone cold. “Do you feel strong? Brave even?” Jake leans in close, letting his breath trace your cheekbone. “Knowing you killed a king. You killed a king seeking to make amends.” 

He could hear your breathing shake with his words. He’d broken a piece of your wall you’d put up upon his arrival. Jake wasn’t stupid, he knew you loved Josh as he did- he knew it would pain you to relive the knowledge of his untimely death. You had blamed yourself and your father for all that had happened. You were not able to find the real perpetrator in time to prevent anymore bloodshed and your father died before he could ever send his remorseful letter to the late king of the sun. Jake was king now, even if he’d been thrown into it and you’d be damned if anyone dared harm him in the way you let a soldier pierce his brother's heart. 

The sarcasm and taunting that oozed past his lips made your knees want to melt, but you stood tall in the controlled position he’d put you in. You were aware that he could feel your racing pulse in your wrist in his grip and hear the shakiness of your breathing. 

Gathering whatever courage you forced yourself to have, you look into his darkened eyes. You hold his hard stare. A king and a queen that should’ve been ruling together staring one another down, waiting to see who will strike first. Jake knew you and you knew him, there was no secrecy between your gazes. He was letting all of his thoughts and emotions out with his stare; sharing his grief, sadness, and anger with you. You were letting him know of your love, your guilt, your fear. But your words said otherwise. 

“You killed him too- We killed a king, Jake.” Your voice is strained from the weight of his hand. 

Jake did not respond well to you speaking the truth. He knew better than anyone it was his fault more than anything, but to hear it slip past your soft lips didn’t help. He could have stopped Josh from leaving with him. He could have stayed by his side during battle. He could have let the kings hash it out rather than take matters into his own two hands. It was his fault. 

The king's body squishes your own between his and the stone wall, his forehead centimeters away from connecting yours. His lips- those soft, blush colored plush lips of his that you craved to be upon yours, brush against your own. Your breaths mingled, hot and heavy. 

“There is no we. I might have grabbed the sword, but you pierced his heart.” Jake's eyes turned red, tears pooling along his lash line.

_____

Jake loosened his grip, letting his head fall forward to hers. There is no we. That is the last thing he wanted right now. He was so enraged with himself, with her father and with Josh. Two of which he could not take his anger out on, so he piled it onto himself and her. Jake could see the bruising that was already beginning to form around her neck and wrist. He wishes in the moment that he could feel guilt- he’d take her and make sure she knew of his love, but he needs to make her understand her part in Josh’s death. 

His hands fall away from her body, instead taking residence on the wall she’d been back in to. Her lips are tight in a fine line, every so often he can see her chin quiver as if she is holding back her own tears. Jake wanted to kiss them away, but he’d also like to see more bruises on her skin. She takes this moment of weakness to bring a gentle hand to his cheek. Jake tenses, having been touch starved for so long he can no longer recall what it’s like to be in a position like this. He finds himself falling for her again, nuzzling himself into her palm right where she wants him to be. 

Jake closes his eyes, taking in the affection she is allowing him. When she starts to brush her thumb over his cheek, he decides that’s enough, pulling himself away from her. He’d been so absorbed in the feeling that is his light and love that he failed to notice she’d recovered his sword. The tip of the blade grazed the skin below his chin, titling his head upwards so it wouldn’t impale him. 

He let out a humorless laugh, looking back into her eyes that held nothing but rage now. His own blade stared him down, threatening his life. Everything that was Jake’s was a threat to his well being. 

“Perhaps you shouldn’t let your guard down, my king.”

Her lips tilt up into a smirk- one that made Jake want to erase it from her face, make her grovel for forgiveness at his feet. In this very hall, he wanted her bare and on her knees, tears streaming down her cheeks as she chokes. The way she wields his sword has his pants growing tight.  

“And perhaps you are brave, my queen,” He smirks back at her, fueling the fire within her and himself. “But what’s your plan here, love? If my eyes aren't deceiving me, you’re the one backed against a wall.”

She drags to blade down the length of his throat, teasing him with the thrill of her taking charge. Maybe this whole thing wasn’t to harm anyone- well, it was at first, but now Jake would rather teach his pretty queen quite the lesson. He now knew what it felt like to be her, put into a position where the other had all control. But Jake wasn’t yet sure if he liked her to be the one wielding the power. She may have the position to rule a kingdom but to rule over him, that’s not something he is going to allow. If there was one thing about Jake, he never loosened his hold over her.

His queen brought the blade back under his chin, forcing his head up. “And I’m not the one with a blade pointed at me,” She peels herself away from him, taking steps back to put distance between the two of them. He admires her in the way she pretends to be such a person- one that threatens and edges danger. She circles around him, dragging the tip of the steel blade along with her. “You should suffer. You should feel the pain through the pain I have felt since your absence. It would be fulfilling.”

“How it warms my heart to know you’ve missed me so.” Jakes back arches slightly as she presses the blade a little too far. Shivers rack through him. 

The quiet click of her heels flood his senses. He listens to the way she walks, her rhythm, the way she is paying such close attention to his body at that moment. “Would you prefer I hadn’t?” At his side, she stands on the tips of her toes to whisper into his ear. 

Jake didn’t feel the cold steel of his sword anymore, taking the moment to assess her thoughts. He knew she wouldn’t- couldn’t bring herself to hurt him. He was all she had left, hatred and all. He feels that there is no threat present as she circles back into his field of vision. Her cheeks are flushed, eyes darkened with something Jake had never seen in them before- something that pushes his need. 

To his surprise, he is not the one to act first. His control is slipping, the thread is tearing and straining against her fight for it. She’d dropped the sword and took his face in her hands before he could even register the clanking of metal and stone colliding. Jake's hands instinctively grab at her waist, pulling her into his chest and letting their bodies speak for them. Her hands were still as warm and soft as he remembered them to be, but her lips were rougher- she’d bitten them raw. They push and pull, both trying to fight for dominance they both desire. Jake couldn’t recall a time where they have shared a kiss like this one- hot, fast, teeth clashing in a fit of flooding need. He was always gentle with her, letting her know of the love he held for her. In the moment, he could sense she had changed. How the months had molded and shifted her. He could only hope that she could sense the same within him. 

Her hands slip into his hair, tugging at his roots as hard as she can. Jake breaks their kiss to let out a groan. She is relentless in her aim for power, taking his bottom lip between her teeth and pulling it. This isn’t what Jake came here for, he came for revenge but some part of his mind dared to hope for this. As she releases his lips from her teeth, Jake looks into her eyes and sees the lust and love they emblazoned within them. He inches his hands upwards, memorizing every divot of her body before taking the control he needed back. Jake takes a fistful of her hair, pulling her head back to expose her neck to him. 

Knocking Jake from his lustful daze, a scabbing wound rests under her chin still red around the edges- fresh and painful. She’s not brave nor has she changed, his queen is scared. She demanded the control that had been taken from her in recent events. Jake does not know the story of how she got her skin sliced, but he is sure it wasn’t from him. Not wanting to ask, Jake simply leans in and presses a feathery light kiss over the wound. She swallows hard and shivers under his touch. Bringing his eyes back to hers, he sees that they have softened, but a touch of fear looms dangerously in the back of her mind. 

_____

Jake releases his hold on you, allowing your body to slouch before him. Your mind hadn’t even caught up to what had just conspired between the two of you, it was like nothing you’d ever known before. He’d never been so rough yet so… Jake towards you. The fighter that rests inside of him has presented itself in full force, never allowing you to let your guard down regardless of how you wished for him.

His hands on you and in your hair set your body ablaze, striking a fire in you that another could never dare to replicate. All of the resentment and desolation had poured over. It boiled over too far and now here you were- panting and flushed before the king you wanted more than life itself. Jake was in a state similar to yours, but stared at you with such pity that made you want to collapse in on yourself. You knew the moment he saw that cut under your chin, he would see you  as a feeble little girl. As a queen that couldn’t defend even herself, how were you to defend your people and your home? You fully allowed someone to cause you to falter- to bring shame to the crown you inherited. The cut was a reminder that you were not, safe nor were you in power of anything. You were a mere damsel in distress and Jake could clearly see that. 

Jake steps back away from you as if he’d harmed you in some way. His pupils have long since dilated, having not retreated back to their natural deep brown color since you’d pressed your lips to his. No longer having his hands on you reminds you of the first time he’d left you alone to grieve his presence and love. He may not have been gentle with you as you were not with him, but to feel that radiating off of him again was liberating. To feel the reverberating beat of his heart beneath his chest plate. You remembered the way his heart would lull you to sleep as the moon rested high in the nights sky. It beat so steadily, but whenever you’d be in his presence it would pick up its pace, drumming from under your touch. 

Even as you looked over his face his eyes never connected with yours, only looking down at the barely visible soon-to-be scar under your chin. Jake’s stare was blank, the pity gone like he had nothing more to feel towards you. 

“Who?” he whispers, lowering his voice.

You blink, surprised by his words. His hand lifts to drag the collar of your dress down, getting a better glimpse of the wound you donned. 

“I asked you who did this.”

Jake tightens his grip on the fabric of your dress. “Last night… he came in and I-I wasn’t aware-”

“I didn’t fucking ask you when,” He balls his fist in your collar, pulling you towards him. “I asked who did this to you.”

The tone of his voice has you shaking, afraid of what will come if you tell him the truth. “In my chambers… it was dark, I couldn’t see-” You scramble to find the words. You couldn’t tell him that you didn’t recognize the voice nor see the perpetrators face. 

“Your chambers?” Jake asks dangerously low. “They were in your damn chambers? Where the fuck were your guards?”

His lips were pulled to a fine line, letting his anger be known. His eyes were darkened by the rage that swarmed within them. Jake seemed to have a new enemy and it was no longer your late father, it was whomever dared lay a single finger on you. You, in a state of less than decent, Jake couldn’t take that and walk away- he needed to find who was responsible for letting this happen under their watch. His knuckles began to turn white from how hard he was gripping the fabric of your dress. He could so easily tear it from you at this moment and that was partially what you wanted at this time. You knew Jake was livid, coming to your aid even after everything, but it showed you that he still held you in his heart. He still cared and to you that is all that matters, more than what guards failed to protect you and your modesty. 

Your dainty fingers reach up to trace the small scar on his cheek. “Jacob.”

Jake's eyes tore away from the small cut to look into your own, seeing the fear you held on to. He pulls you further into his chest, flicking his gaze between your eyes, lips and the wound. He couldn’t sort his head, you could see the millions of thoughts rushing through his brain. You swipe your thumb over the scar again, letting him know that you’re still with him. 

“I want to know who.” he’s close enough to you again where you can feel the heat of his breath against your skin.

You look down at the stained armor he wore, “I don’t know…”

Jake scoffs, “I don’t know who attacked me says the queen. How the fuck do you not know?” The look in his eyes sends a shiver down your spine. How worked up he is over your safety is making you dress become unbearably uncomfortable, you want to be bare before him, letting him in on everything secret you held. 

He goes to tear away from you, letting the rage take over and the desperate need to hunt down whoever did this. You grab his hand as it comes back down towards your hip. “Please, Jake… Don’t leave me a second time.” you beg him. 

Jake's fist slams into the wall beside your head, splitting the skin on his knuckles. You involuntarily flinch at his show of aggression. He wouldn’t dare hit you like that, but after being threatened and harmed the night previous, there was no way of knowing who would hurt you next. Jake saw the way you curled in on yourself as his fist connected with the cold stone wall, making him wish he had never done it to begin with. He was so wrapped up in his own thoughts and anger that he forgot to think about how you felt in this situation. You both were so close to getting what you wanted from one another, but yet again, another trial has separated the two of you. Jake’s body relaxes, lowering his fist from the stone to the curve of your waist and places his forehead to yours. You scanned his face, seeing the pain that racked through him physically and emotionally. You’re aware that even if he says he doesn’t, he needs you to be safe and if he can't be the one to provide that security then someone else should.

“They could have taken everything...” Jake mutters. His eyes were screwed shut and lips downturned in disgust at the mere thought. 

Your other hand comes up to cup his cheek. The young king leans in to the touch, reveling in the warmth that your skin brings him. “It feels like they have, my love.” You whisper to him. “But there’s still you.” 

Jake’s eyelids flick open in confusion, “What do you mean feels like they have?”

Your lungs constrict, making it hard to breathe. The memory of your attack speaking to you about the horrific acts that have been committed towards your loved ones haunts you. You found it almost impossible, but there’s no other explanation for what’s happened. For why your father suddenly died and why Josh had been almost killed in the room just down the hall. 

“Josh, my father… It was someone I’d never heard of. I still don’t know who, but it was purposeful. Their deaths weren’t coincidental or accidental.”

Jake’s brows furrow, trying to piece together the information he’s been told. His mouth opens and closes, the words not quite forming. 

“Someone’s trying to kill us, Jake.”

__________

taglist: @allieisacrybaby @writingcold @gardensgatedaisy @hayley1623 @gretasmokerising @josh-iamyour-mama @ageofsinners @capturethechaos @takenbythemadness @jakekiszkasbuttsweat

#the realm #greta van fleet imagine #greta van fleet x reader #jake kiszka x reader #jake kiska fic #jake kiszka series #greta van fleet fic #gret a van fleet series #the realm part six #jake kiszka #prince!jakekiszka

[dharma-divine]

DIOSKOUROI

Chapter II

Pairing: Twins x (Female) Reader, endgame TBD

Summary: Given your first taste of freedom in order to attend a prestigious arts academy, you befriend a sweet, charming boy who ultimately proves to be delinquent warlock, desperate to free his equally deceitful twin brother from hell after a necessary betrayal to their coven. You are essential to the brothers’ liberation and reunion, and in the process of learning of their mystic abilities and lineage, you reveal the truth of your own.

(For a more information regarding mythological references and character abilities, please click here)

WARNINGS: Mild suggestive content

Taglist: @gardenvanfleet @alwayzthere @sammygvfslut @gretavanhoney @maverick-rose @fosterkidwiththebrokenjaw @obetrolncocktails @capturethechaos @tlexx @charlesashton @garagebandvanfleet @myownparadise96 @jakeslovehandles @sparrowofthedawn @alt-jb @idk-maddie @theweightofstardust @danny-wagners-peacesign-necklace

(special thanks to Alana for being such a huge help with editing xx)

☽ ✩ ☾

The woods come creeping into your line of sight once more, along with the twists of flames lapping at the sky and the boy sitting before them.

“Help him. Please.”

The same scene plays out as before, with you wandering unscathed into the fire, following the dark figure until some unbeknownst force pulls you back into the trees.

The only difference this time is when you reach for his hand, not only do you feel his soft palm but also the band of something hard pressed between your fingers. You squint down to notice that it’s a ring, looped around his pointer finger in a stark black. It feels like stone — obsidian, with its shockingly cool touch even while being surrounded by pure heat.

For some reason, while his features once again melted from your memory by the time you wake the next morning, the image of the ring around his finger sticks, glinting among the flames appearing every time you close your eyes.

You’re pondering the image, and trying to recall the faces of the mysterious recurring characters in these strange dreams, the entire morning, your brows furrowed with thought as you sit in class with Josh.

It’s the third week of classes, and you can tell you’ve already fallen helplessly behind, though you can’t rid yourself of the distracting thoughts that drown out the sound of the professor’s droning voice.

You’re suddenly interrupted when Josh lightly nudges your arm with his elbow, before sliding his notebook over so you can see what’s scribbled on the top line.

What’s on your mind?

You blush at the thought that he was watching you ponder to yourself, jotting down a reply.

I’ve been having weird dreams lately. Too much to write down, will tell you about it after class.

How about over coffee?

Your heart leaps at the inquiry, and you glance over to see his cheeky smile and fan of lashes, his eyes remaining on the open notebook.

As classes have settled in you’ve found that you both have a perfect slot of time nestled between lectures for a quick lunch  break, and the café down the hall from your lecture has been calling your name since its delicious smell first wafted past you.

Okay, you write back, to which he doodles you a smiley face.

☽ ✩ ☾

You find a cozy corner with a booth and big table, sliding your bag off your shoulder and onto the plush leather, its aroma mixing with the delicious smell of coffee.

“I’m gonna go order, what would you like?” Josh asks as he heads for the counter.

“Um…” you ponder, face flushing as you panic to think of something. “I’ve never gotten coffee from a shop before, we’re a strictly tea household. What do you usually get?”

Josh smiles, clearly endeared by your strangeness to the concept. 

“I usually get a caffé ristretto or espresso, but they’re a bit strong if you’re not used to the taste,” he explains. “How about just a latte? Coffee and milk?”

You grin, nodding your head eagerly. “That sounds perfect.”

He nods, then walks over to the girl standing behind the counter to order. You can tell by his mannerisms and how a blushed smile instantly rosies her cheeks that he’s charming her, though their words are not in earshot. You hear her giggle as she hands him his receipt, and a tight, antsy feeling arises in your stomach that you recognize as jealousy.

He’s like that with everyone, you tell yourself. Why be jealous?

But the feeling ceases to fade, and it isn’t until his head turns back towards you, the girl following his gaze, that you snap out of it, giving them an anxious, awkward wave.

“She’s never had coffee from a shop before, isn’t that crazy?” you’re finally able to hear him say, followed by another bout of the barista’s swooning giggles.

You shake your head at him amusedly as he carefully carries the drinks back to your table, moving your books aside so he can set them down.

“Here you go,” he says, setting the two cups down before taking his seat.

You admire the frothy rose decorated on top of yours, the way you always see it illustrated. 

“Thank you,” you reply with a smile, the sweet, creamy smell hitting your nose. “It’s so pretty I almost don’t want to drink it. What do I owe you?”

He holds up a hand, waving it at you dismissively as he takes his first sip. “Don’t worry about it, please. I’m only interested in hearing about this dream of yours. What happened?”

Your chest leaps at the reminder of the purpose of this meeting, keeping you from the chance to argue further about the money. You take a sip of your latte, finding it as comforting and wonderful as it smells, even though it nearly burns your tongue.

“Right – it’s, um, it’s really intense,” you warn, adjusting yourself in your seat. “And so, so vivid – to the point where it feels real.”

Josh sits back as he sips his coffee, his eyes above the brim of the cup set on you.

“So I start off in a forest, and my chest feels tight, as if I've just been running. Some kind of grand force is luring me to this meadow past all the trees, and a deep voice is coming from somewhere around me, speaking in a language I don’t know — I think it might be Latin? And when I make it to the meadow, there’s a huge fire in the middle that’s completely stagnant, not growing or moving, the flames just stay in place. And in front of the fire –”

You pause, trying once again to comprehend the faces of the figures you have seen so many times at this point, but ultimately blanking.

“There’s a boy sitting, his legs folded, literally inches away from the flames. His mouth moves to the words I’m hearing above me, but the voice is way too loud to be coming from just him alone. I don’t know, it’s hard to explain, but it’s so loud and powerful I feel it shaking in my chest. He starts pleading for me to help with something, and a second later another boy comes from inside the flames.”

Your breathing has picked up, the recount of the imagery so intense it’s sending you into a near panic attack, your eyes trained to the table.

“Hey, It’s okay,” you hear Josh speak softly, lifting his hand to squeeze the top of yours comfortingly. “You don’t have to continue if it stresses you too much.”

You squeeze back, flinching when you feel something cold pressing into your hand. You let go to see a black ring looped around Josh’s middle finger, and suddenly the image from your dream flashes in your mind.

“That’s funny,” you smile, a bit of anxiety lifting away as you pull Josh’s hand to your face to inspect the ring further, to which he looks confused. “Your ring— the boy from the dream had one on, the second one that was in the fire. In fact I think it was on the same exact finger. What is it?”

“Obsidian,” he says, looking a bit melancholy. “It was my brother’s, he gave it to me right before he was taken.”

You remember registering the stone in your subconscious, and the whole exchange is feeling like a strange blast of deja vu.

“Is there any meaning behind it being on your middle finger?” you ask.

“No,” he grins, twisting the ring with his thumb. “It’s just the only finger it fits on. I only wear it when I’m especially missing him, I’m afraid it’ll twist off and I’ll lose it. It’s funny that it made it into your dream, though. Our minds have an interesting way of saving little details of our lives.”

“Yeah, it’s crazy,” you add, shaking your head. “I’ve never had such vivid dreams before, like could they mean anything?”

”Yeah, definitely,” he says, pondering to himself for a moment. “The fire and the figures could represent a multitude of things; your anxieties and any obstacles holding you back, your emotions, literally anything. It’s hard to pinpoint which is which, but regardless it sounds like you’re going through a lot. I’m sorry these dreams are causing you so much stress, I wish I could help.”

“It’s okay,” you whisper, honing in on the sensation of his thumb against the top of your hand to keep you calm. “Thank you for listening, I appreciate it.”

You know it’s odd to feel so close to someone so quickly, but it feels like you’ve known Josh for years, like you’ve been best friends since you were little and taken on this life together. Maybe it’s because you’ve never really had a friend before, but you feel like you could trust him with anything. Every other man you’ve come in contact with since your freedom has had this deep violet aura around them, even when they’ve been perfectly nice, your intuition telling you that they reek with danger, and to tread lightly around them, to not let them know too much. But you haven’t had that voice with Josh, not for a single second. His aura is bright yellow, tinged with tendrils of red and orange. Friendly, adventurous, thoughtful, considerate, well-grounded, that’s him. He’s your safe space in this new world that you’re still trying to figure out.

“Do you like it?” Josh finally asks, pulling his hand from you to point at your coffee cup, breaking you out of the near trance you fell under.

“Oh,” you blush. “Yeah, I do. It’s delicious.” 

You take a larger gulp now that it’s not as hot, its sweet bitterness coating your tongue.

Your notice Josh begin to sift through his book bag and decide to go back to your own studying, grabbing the moleskin you had taken out while you waited for the coffee. To your dismay, you open its pages to find only a few nonsense lines written, along with some mindless doodles sketched in the margins. You glance over at Josh’s notebook, seeing them filled from top to bottom. He has impressively neat handwriting, and even drew diagrams and pictures to illustrate each subject.

“Well, shit,” you curse quietly to yourself.

“Can I copy yours?”

“Go right ahead,” he replies, sliding it over with a grin.

You briefly reflect on the fact that you have not noticed Josh pick up his pencil once in the three classes you’ve had with him thus far, but you decide to ignore it, doing your best at copying what he has written.

An hour later, you’ve given up on the copying and gone to simply taking photos of his pages, your eyes tired and stomach grumbling.

“I think this is good for now, I should get home,” you tell Josh, flipping your notebook closed and slapping your pen down on its cover.

“Sweet,” he replies, shutting the book he was reading. “Any exciting plans for the night?” 

You realize it’s Friday, and that the unfortunate answer for you is no.

“I’ll probably just stay home with my aunt, maybe watch a movie,” you shrug, zipping up your bag and slumping it over your shoulder.

“Well, wanna go to a party instead?” he asks, and you freeze at the word party, an anxious knot immediately forming in your chest.

You look up to see him standing above you, grinning from ear to ear.

“Josh you know I-”

“Oh come on,” he urges as you stand up and push your chair in. “It’s a casual affair, at a friend of mine’s house right off campus. Starts at ten, you can be home by midnight…”

You roll your eyes even though the way he pitches his voice at the end of his sentence makes a smile pull at your lip, and you know his convincing is already winning you over.

“I’ll have to sneak out, and I’ve never done that before,” you say, your voice mousy and innocent.

“So?” he quips, giving you a light push on your shoulder. “You’ve had a lot of firsts lately, what’s one more?”

You sigh, worrying your lip.

“She’s a light sleeper,” you point out. “Though…”

You think of the bundle of valerian root you saw in the kitchen cupboard recently, enough to knock out an army.

“Though…” Josh repeats as he follows you closely as you both exit the cafe.

“Okay, I’ll see,” you blush, flattered that he’s so adamant about your attendance. “Just send me the address.”

“Already sent,” he smiles, just as your phone pings with his text.

“See you at eleven?” he calls as he begins to part ways to his last class upstairs, with you on your way to your lab building across campus.

“See you,” you grin, your head ringing with nervous anticipation with how this night will play out.

☽ ✩ ☾

“So her memory is catching up to us,” Jake says after his brother explained the events of the day, his face half illuminated in an orange glow. “She didn’t question you any more about the ring?”

“No,” Josh shakes his head, tapping his thumb against the hard band. “I don’t think she’s suspicious of any of that yet, it’s still just a dream to her.”

“Well, that’s good,” Jake sighs, laying back down in his cot. “Let her figure it out herself.”

It’s silent for a moment except for the crackling of the fire , the conversation coming to a lull.

“We’re going to a party tonight,” Josh mentions through a modest smirk, and he can see his brother perk up with interest. “Oh really?”

“Mm-hmm. I’ve been to a few already, just to familiarize myself with the culture of the academy. It’s not a lavish jamboree like we’re used to, but mortals like to have fun too— plenty of spirits, plenty of vices. Princess should have a ball.”

“Well, don’t get too ahead of yourself,” Jake quips, flashing a toothy grin that Josh hasn’t seen in a regrettably long time. “She’s never even drank before, has she?”

“Nothing to this extent,” Josh admits. “But don’t worry, I’ll keep her safe. I promise.”

☽ ✩ ☾

It wasn’t easy — of course, tonight was the night your aunt wasn’t in the mood for a cup of her evening tea, a steep of soothing herbs that always has her in bed by 9 o’clock sharp. 

“I think I’m going to stay up and knit,” she says to your dismay as you put the pot of water to boil. “It’s getting cold soon, and when I pulled the heavy quilts from the attic earlier today I found that the moths had eaten them to shreds — isn’t that a shame? Must have forgotten the mothballs when I stored them in the spring. Well, I can’t afford brand new ones from Mrs. Mabel this year, I have some yarn to make our own. Would you like to help?”

You purse your lips, tapping your nail anxiously at the edge of the metal stove. “No thanks, not tonight. I have a lot of homework.”

You turn to open the cupboard, slipping the bundle of valerian in your palm as you sift through the carefully labeled tea boxes. 

“I’m still going to make some tea, though. How about black, if you’re wanting to stay up late?” You ask, your heart pounding anxiously for her response.

“Hmm, I suppose with some honey and milk,” she nods before heaving her knitting basket onto the dining table.

“Great,” you grin, relieved she was convinced, lifting the lid to dip the bag into the heavy pot.

You glance back to see your aunt already working vigorously at her needles, making sure she's distracted before slipping the valerian bundle in with the rest of the brew. Caffeinated tea and a heaping of sedative herbs — not your best plan, but you’re hoping for a decent outcome. If anything the reactions will cancel out, and she’ll only softly doze off instead of knock out for days.

A few minutes later and you pour the dark steaming liquid into two cups, one for yourself that you’re preparing to leave untouched on your bedside table, along with splashes of milk and stirs of honey. Your aunt takes her mug gladly, and you revel at the sight of her taking a few hearty gulps.

“Delicious,” she hums, blowing on the steam. “Remind me to get more of this blend at the market.”

“I’ll put it on the list,” you smile as you grab your mug and head towards the stairs.

“Well, I’ll probably be up here the rest of the night,” you call over your shoulder as you make your way over to the stairs, stepping carefully stepping over Lazlo who lounges in his usual spot on the first step. “Goodnight!”

“Goodnight my love!” you hear her call back. “I hope you dream sweetly tonight  — none of that nightmare nonsense.”

You smile at her wish, though you know you won't have to worry about that for a while as you make it down the hall and swiftly your door behind you, clanking the mug on the nightstand before rushing into your closet.

“Casual affair…” you repeat Josh’s words to yourself as you sift through your closet.

You decide on a pair of black jeans and a white cable knit sweater, an outfit that allows you to have full agility among the obstacles you’re about to face. After touching up your makeup and stuffing your phone and keys in your back pockets, you pace around your room nervously until the clock is closer to ten. At 9:45 you pull on your denim jacket and heavy black boots and trek quietly to the window that sits in the middle of the far wall of your room.

“Okay,” you sigh to yourself, unlatching its lock and pushing it open, the cold air quickly wafting in.

You take one last glance behind you for good measure, before stepping your foot through the windowsill and landing on the rough surface of roof shingles. You hold the top of the windowsill to steadily pull yourself through, crouching down to slide the window shut once you’ve made it through. 

“Easy,” you praise yourself, before realizing the next part is the most treacherous; sliding down the incline to reach its edge.

You sit on your haunches with your legs outstretched in front of you, your hands bent behind you for leverage as you carefully scoot yourself to the edge. It takes maybe a minute at most to get down, even though it feels like an eternity with the gravelly shingles digging into your palms. You panic once you make it to the edge and feel hesitant to jump in such an awkward position. With no other choice, you flip your body around in one swift move, your knees sinking into the wet mass of leaves stuck in your gutter as you prepare to jump.

“Fuck me,” you curse at the icy wetness hitting your skin, pushing them past the edge one by one, your hands now gripping the edge of the gutter as your body dangles along the nearly 8 foot drop.

You don’t even let yourself think too much about letting go, you just do it, bending your knees to break the impact of your boots hitting the soft grass.

You spring up to standing, giving yourself a moment to catch your breath and dust the dirt and debris off yourself before quietly scurrying to your truck, avoiding walking in front of any of your front windows to the best of your ability.

In a blur you make it inside the truck, shutting its door with the lightest slam. It isn’t until you make it to the main road that you let out a sigh of relief, your first escape mission a success.

Before you know it, the tire of your truck skimming the edge of the curb designated the address Josh had sent. You nervously attempt to parallel park, settling on a good enough job in your book, with your right front tire perhaps sticking out a bit for others' likings.

You switch off the ignition and hop out, your breath clouding in the damp cold air that clings to your skin. Your boots scuff against the pavement as you walk up to the respective door, your heart clambering in your chest.

I’m here, you text Josh, too nervous to enter and be greeted by stranger’s faces. A second later, you hear it open, Josh appearing with his eyes heavy and glossed pink, his smile as white as ever.

“Welcome!” he greets, pulling you into a hug.

He smells like something earthy but unfamiliar, the scent sticking to his breath when he continues to speak as you pull away.

“Come in, would you like a drink?”

You feel a pleasant shiver go down your spine. You`ve never been offered a drink, save for the glass of birthday wine.

“I would love one,” you smile, following him down a dark, barren hallway.

The hall leads to a living room, lit only by a string of fairy lights and a lamp in the far corner that glows a deep, dark orange. In the center sits a well-worn leather couch where two couples lounge, a boy and girl chatting on one end, and two boys making out at the other. A few more people are splayed amongst the room, some standing in a little group while chatting and sipping from their red plastic cups, a few others sat around the round bohemian rug that lays in front of the couch, their legs tucked under the glass coffee table on top of it.

“Attention, everyone,” Josh announces, his voice seeming to carry over the others with ease and quiet them instantly.

He introduces you to the group, making sure to mention how this is your first year at Acaber, and does his best to rattle off the names of everyone else, though the nerves of having so many eyes on you prevents you from registering most of them. They all seem very nice, welcoming you with a cheers of their cups.

“Drinks are this way,” he informs, ushering you towards what you soon find in the kitchen.

An array of sodas and juices in colorful bottles are splayed out along one of the countertops, basically all of which you have never tried before as your aunt has an unofficial ban on any artificial products at home. Along the opposite counter is a similar sight, though you recognize their ornate glass bottles as being full of liquor. 

“What’s your drink of choice?” Josh asks, grabbing a red cup from a stack by the sink.

“I have no idea,” you laugh, a bit overwhelmed by all of the options. “I guess whatever you’re having.”

“Right, right,” he says, clearly recalling your lack of experience in the matter. “Well this is just whiskey, and I am positive you will not like it.”

“Oh please,” you quip, taking the cup from him. “I liked the coffee, I can like this too.”

“Alright,” he laughs, an amused smile spread on your lips. “Suit yourself.”

You don’t hesitate to tilt the cup to your lips, the shallow pool of dark liquid pouring into your mouth. Immediately, it stings your nostrils, and it tastes as if you dipped one of the caramel bon bons you get from the shop on the square, except covered in gasoline.

“Agh!” you wince, shoving the cup back to Josh. “That’s awful.“

“I told you,” he giggles. “I don’t say that to be pretentious, it’s just not normally a baby’s first booze kind of drink.”

“I’m sorry,” you blush, feeling a warmth blossom in your throat and chest. “It feels good though.”

“Hell yeah it does,” he says, walking over to the soda counter with your cup. 

“Here, something simple and sweet — rum and Coke.”

He pours a few glugs of Coca-Cola, the pale fizz nearly pouring over the rim, before carrying the cup to the other side, plucking a tall clear bottle with a white cap, the name Bacardi in big letters atop its label. He swirls the mixture in the cup as he walks it over to you, extending it to you with a proud smile.

“Cheers.”

You clink plastic cups, hesitating this time as the drink drips past your lips.

“Mmm,” you hum, your eyes lighting up as you take in the sparkly sweet gulp. “That’s good, like candy.”

Josh hums at your comment, clearly amused.

“You’ve never had a sugar high like this before, kid,” he quips, giving you a wink. 

The pet name catches you off guard, along with how easily it slips off his lips, lacquered with an inflection you’ve never heard from him before.

“Are you high?” you ask, the question blurting out once you notice how his eyes are practically gleaming with a sheen of pink.

He acts offended, placing a defensive hand to his chest.

“Now, I know you’re new to all this,” he says, stepping closer to you. “But surely you know not to ask something so patronizing. How dare you think I’m under the influence.”

He speaks in a cadence as if he’s performing a dramatic acting role, raising his hands to dramatize every other word.

You simply stare at him a moment, unsure of what to say or if you’ve truly offended him, until he bursts into a bout of laughter, his giggles filling you with warm relief.

“I’m just kidding,” he says, placing a heavy hand on your shoulder. “I’m fucking stoned.”

“Oh,” you chuckle back, trying to ignore the fact that he glanced at your lips the moment he learned into your shoulder. “Well I’ve never been stoned before either, but maybe that’ll change too.”

“It will,” he nods with blissfully shut eyes, tapping your shoulder once more before letting go. “Not tonight, but it will.”

“Why not tonight?” you ask as you follow him back into the living room, which has somehow doubled in capacity in just the short period of time you were in the kitchen.

“One vice at a time,” he calls over his shoulder, before slouching onto the couch that’s now half vacant, the two boys still perfectly comfortable lapping at each other's faces.

You try not to be rude but can’t help but look over at them for a second, glancing back at Josh with raised eyebrows.

He gestures to you to lean closer even though you’re still standing, so you simply hover over him, with him looking up at you through heavy lashes.

“Grey and Everett,” he says as he nods to them. “They’re in their own world, we’re used to it. Why condemn the act of love? It’s beautiful and natural.”

You nod back, trying to normalize it yourself. Sure, he has a point.

“So is this all we do?” you ask, stepping back to glance around the ever-filling room. “We just sit around and talk and drink, and…kiss?”

“Sure!” Josh exclaims, suddenly pushing himself back off the couch and raising his hands in the air. “Relishing life's luxuries while we’re young and still have some brain cells to lose. Speaking of — want a shot?”

You ponder the daring request for a moment, glancing down to see that your cup is already almost empty

“Alright,” you say, before finishing off the rest. “Let’s do it.”

☽ ✩ ☾

Much to your delight, you find that you love tequila shots. Dressed with salt and a lime, it’s a delicious mix of sweet, salty, and heat, the burn of the liquor hitting your throat making your cheeks flush and limbs feel loose. You’ve had three so far, and even though Josh is proud of your natural ability to shoot the liquor right down your throat, he warns you to pace yourself.

“It feels great right now,” he says into your ear, yelling over the noise of the room that’s now nearly filled to capacity. “But it hurts in the morning.”

You’re both standing in the corner of the room by a tall potted fiddle leaf, having a brief conversation earlier about how well it appears to be taken care of. It’s a quarter to one, and you have no plans to go home anytime soon. You’re relieved every time you check your phone and don’t have a thread of calls and messages from your aunt, hopefully proving your sleep tea concoction to be a success.

“I want to dance,” you blurt, your limbs tingling with the desire to move.

Josh raises his eyebrows, before promptly setting down his drink on the floor. 

“Say less,” he says, before grabbing your wrist and pushing into the crowd.

You don’t know the song that’s playing, but the beat makes your body vibrate. You’ve never danced outside of the comfort of your bedroom, and you’d be self conscious if it weren’t for the liquid courage currently surging through your veins. You rock your hips side to side, your arms raised and wrists twisting to the rhythm. Your eyes are closed, soaking in the moment when you feel a gentle hand on the small of your back. You open your eyes to Josh, a grin spread in his face as he gently grabs at your waist to pull you closer to him. Your arms fall to land atop his shoulders and his forearm slinks across the small of your back, the pads of his fingers pressed into the plush side of your waist as you both rock to the rhythm. No words are shared, not that they could be even heard over the music, but you share a different kind of nonverbal communication between your bodies that feels deeply intimate. Touching him is electric, your body buzzing with every squeeze he gives to your hips. 

You can’t help but press yourself even closer into him, practically grinding into him as your fingers slide up the nape of his neck before raking through his mess of curls. You feel Josh lean in as your eyes once again shut for a moment, but they shoot open with a gasp when you feel his wet lips against the side of your neck. You instantly melt, the sensation incredible, and you feel a pulse somewhere deep within your core. He pulls away for just a moment before finding a different spot, the next kiss coming with a suction that makes the spot sting deliciously. You tug gently at the roots of his curls signaling you like it, and you swear you feel him smile, the skin below his lips vibrating at the frequency of his muffled chuckle.

He pulls away, lifting his head to look you in the face, his lips pink and swollen. You marvel at them for a moment before glancing up to see his eyes admiring your own lips, and you know what is to come next. You both lean in, your lips barely grazing when a loud banging comes from the entryway and bright beams of light come shining in through the entrance windows.

“Shit, not again,” you hear Josh curse among other distressed voices in the room, many of the people around you retreating into deeper rooms within the house.

Though the bright light and authoritative voices coming from behind the door are threatening, you recognize that you aren’t as concerned as you maybe should be, giggling to nothing in particular as you cling onto Josh’s arm.

“C’mon,” he tells you right as the music turns off, and you stumble behind him as he leads the way past the kitchen and into another darker room, still having your arm gripped around tightly to his bicep.

After a few moments in the pitch black, simply trusting Josh keeps you from slamming into a table or other obstacle, you make it to another door, its curtained window glowing a moonlit violet. He twists the knob slowly, the wood creaking as the door leaves its frame, and you see his silhouette motion for you to walk through.

“Shhh,” he scolds as you begin to giggle once the two of you cross the yard into a small patch of woods behind the house. “They’ll be here for a bit, we have to wait it out.”

You both stop at the trunk of one of the larger trees, Josh leaning against it as he observes the direction you both just came from.

“I’m cold,” you complain with a slurred, pouty voice as you rub your hands together frantically, having ditched your jacket inside at some point.

“Here,” Josh says, before grabbing your hands and folding them together.

He then proceeds to place them to his lips, inhaling deep breath before blowing it between your palms to warm them. You can’t help but let out a loud cackle at the gesture, and Josh suddenly pulls you forward and into him.

“You can’t do that,” he says, trying to be serious even though a laugh grazes his voice. “They might come outside, or the neighbors will call in another noise complaint on top of the one they’ve already clearly made.”

“I’m sorry,” you blush, your whole body weight leaning against him and the tree.

“How are you so warm?” you ask, feeling his hands that still remain wrapped around yours. “It’s like you’re by a fire, not standing in 20 degree weather.”

He shrugs, letting his thumbs brush against the tops of your hands.

“I’m warm bodied, I guess.”

You both continue to stand there for a few minutes, ducking around the other side of the thick tree once you hear the back door open and flashlights shine across the yard. Eventually the sound of their cruiser doors slamming shut echos from the other side of the house, their headlights casting across the front line of trees as they drive away. Josh holds out a patient finger for a few more beats to make sure the coast is clear before he relaxes himself with a sigh.

“Alright,” he says, looping your arm around his. “Let’s get you home.”

☽ ✩ ☾

You don’t remember how you ended up perfectly tucked under the covers of your bed, or when you changed into your pajamas, but it’s the state you find yourself in once you awake the next morning. You groan at the first throb of a pounding headache, squinting as you reach for where you left your mug of tea the night before even though cold tea is the last thing you wanted to drink. Your eyes open when your hand wraps around a tall glass instead, realizing it’s fully filled with water. You look over to see a bottle of ibuprofen sitting beside it, two pills already sitting on its lid.

You struggle to sit up higher to grab the pills and swallow them down with several big gulps of water, looking around your room, trying your hardest to recall the majority of your night. It comes back in bits and pieces; the tequila shots, the dancing, Josh’s hands on your hips and his lips on your neck. You put your hand to the spot that’s still lingering with a soft ache, the skin raised and sensitive, and you feel your cheeks flush thinking about how good his touch felt. You never understood how a pain could feel pleasurable, but this was it, and you can’t help but push on the fragile skin to feel the sting just a bit more. 

Your memory is completely black after a blurry image of you in the woods, shivering and pressed closely into Josh as he waited for the police to leave. Your heart lurches at the fact that you couldn’t have possibly driven yourself home, and you fly out of bed to get a look outside your window that faces the driveway, pulling the curtains open even though the stark brightness blinds you for a moment.

To your deep relief you find that your truck is parked in the exact spot it’s always in, sitting right behind your aunt’s old buggy that she rarely touches.

The mystery of how you ended up home, and if Aunt Edith caught you and you’re grounded for eternity still stands, and your anxiety crawls right back into your stomach as you reach for your phone to text Josh.

Luckily his name is already in the thread of notifications once you turn it on, and you anxiously click it.

Call me when you wake up, his text says.

Everything is okay.

You dial his number, your heart still pounding as the ringer beeps.

“Good morning, princess,” you hear him smile through the phone, and you blush at the pet name, though your anxiety doesn’t give you much time to acknowledge it any further.

“Everything’s alright?” you ask, still not convinced. “Aunt Edith didn’t wake up, you-?”

“Yes, everything is totally fine,” he assures with a chuckle. ”Never heard a thing from your aunt, the house was silent except for a few stumbles and giggles coming from you. You were very adamant to do your skincare and change into comfy clothes.”

You blush deeper, too embarrassed to ask if he helped you in any way.

“But my car?” you decide to ask instead, walking back over to the window to look at it once more. “How-?”

“I had some friends help,” he explains. “They were sober and drove us and the car home. Everything is alright, okay? You made it home without a hitch.”

“Okay,” you say, letting out the breath you realize you’ve been holding.

The line goes quiet for a second before he speaks again. “So did you have a good time? Did you need the pain meds this morning?”

“I did, and yes,” you reply, cracking a smile and fiddling nervously with the hem of your sleep shirt. “It was amazing — everything I could’ve hoped for, but perhaps minus the headache. Did you enjoy it?”

“Hell yeah,” he says. “Best night I’ve had in a while.”

He pauses again, and you can hear him inhale before he speaks. 

“Is—uh, is your neck alright? I’m sorry if I got a little—“

“No, it’s fine,” you laugh, your whole body buzzing at the fact that he remembered what had happened. “I actually haven’t even looked at it…”

You walk over to your mirror and lift the phone from your ear momentarily to get a glimpse of it, your eyes widening at the deep red splotch stained onto your neck. You press your fingertip into it again, the red specks of broken blood vessels disappearing for a brief second with the pressure, before returning a deeper purple once it’s removed.

“Oh,” is all you can think to say back into the phone, a bit shocked by how dark and obvious it is.

“Does it hurt?” he asks, and you can hear the concern in his voice. 

“No it doesn’t, don’t worry. It’s a bit noticeable, but I have some arnica flower,” you assure him, having used it for a scrape you got in the garden a few months ago. “Please Josh, don’t worry about it.”

You admire the rest of yourself in the mirror, and how sexy it feels to have a reminder of the night before, even though you’re going to have to hide it before you even leave your room.

“It felt good,” you think to yourself, and you don’t realize you’ve said it out loud until you hear Josh huff a laugh into the receiver.

“Tequila makes everything feel good,” he quips, and you want to ask him to elaborate when you hear the steps of the staircase down to the hall creak with your aunt’s heavy footsteps.

“Shit, I have to go, I’ll talk to you later,” you tell him quickly before ending the call, shutting your curtains and running back to your bed.

You’re fully nestled under the covers with your head turned from the door as it begins to creak open.

“You’re sleeping in late,” you hear Aunt Edith say, and you act as though she’s awoken you, letting out a sleepy yawn and stretch.

“Stayed up really late studying,” you tell her, sitting up as she hands you a cup of tea. “Got it all done so I can enjoy the rest of my weekend.”

“Oh, you have plans?” she asks, walking over to fully open your curtains, the bright white light shining in.

“Well, not particularly,” you say before taking a sip of tea. “We’re due for a farmer’s market trip, aren’t we? The vintage booth I really like is there today, and I’d like a few more sweaters for school.”

“We can do that,” your aunt replies, smiling at you.

She looks cheerier than normal, her round face glowy.

“Did you have a nice night?” you ask her, pulling your legs out of the covers and slipping on your house shoes.

“I did, got sleepy by around ten so I abandoned my knit—“ she begins, but stops suddenly when you lean over to set your tea down on your nightstand.

“Oh no, honey,” she says, suddenly sounding deeply concerned. “What happened to your neck?”

Your blood runs cold, completely forgetting to hide your neck from her even though you were just discussing its state moments ago. You try your best to play dumb, giving her a questioning look.

“What do you mean?” you ask, your hand grabbing for the front of your throat rather than the side.

“No, over here,” she says, before going over to you to get a better look herself. “You have an awful bruise, go look in the mirror.”

You furrow your brow, walking over to the mirror and letting out a gasp.

“I have no idea,” you try your best to fib, staring at the wound wide-eyed through the mirror. “I had a dry patch there yesterday and I was itching it, I guess I scratched it raw.”

“Well, let me go get you something to soothe it, some aloe,” she says, rushing to the door. “Go to the bathroom and rinse it with some warm water.

“Okay,” you call back, getting up from your bed to meet your aunt in the kitchen. “I have arnica flowers in the cabinet, that may help too!”

You smile as you walk to your door, proud of yourself getting away with something so salacious.

Just as you’re about to walk through the doorway, you notice a tiny flicker of light coming from atop the dresser to your right. You focus on the source, and between a vase of dried bouquet of roses and a rabbit figurine you see a small tea light, its wick burning a deep auburn flame. Your face drops to a confused frown, and you walk over to it. The wax below the wick is fully melted and halfway evaporated, meaning it must have been lit hours ago. You glance around your room as if you’ll find any hints why or how it was lit, because surely your aunt did not do it — she always scolds you for leaving candles burning for more than a few hours. When you ultimately find nothing, you decide to simply extinguish the flame, dabbing the pad of your index finger on your tongue and snuffing it, the flame vanishing in an instant. You rub the smooth ash between your fingertip and thumb as you set the candle back down, staring at the tepid pool of amber liquid for a beat more before turning and continuing to descend down the hall.

☽ ✩ ☾

Her skin tasted so sweet, like cherry wine sucked between his teeth. She lingered on his lips for hours after he left her, after he switched a matchstick from his back pocket and ignited a cluster of brambles, her lapse in consciousness blinding her from asking any questions as to why he’s starting a fire in the middle of the woods. With a whisper of a spell, they were transported from the woods to the closest flame she had to her house, a barrel fire in a homeless commune a few blocks away. He was amused by the looks of bewilderment the vagrants gave him when they emerged from the flames, but he paid them no mind, hitching her over his shoulder and trekking the rest of the way on foot.

After managing to get up her roof and back through the window of her bedroom, he rested her limp body gently onto her bed, not a single creak coming from its wooden frame. He stood up and took a moment to the room, breathing in her scent, having waited so long to finally be in this house. He walked over to the opposite side of her room where a long cabinet sat against the wall, and it took him no time to find a candle among her assortment of trinkets and treasures atop it, a small tea light that gave him just enough time for his pyromancy.

Lighting it with another match from his book, Josh grabs the candle and carefully walks over to her bedside. He meditates in his intentions for a moment before taking a deep breath, shutting his eyes, and waving the flame once over the top of her body. When his eyes open, she’s in a cotton t-shirt and sweatpants, her feet bare. He shuffles back over to the cabinet and delicately sifts through its drawers, finding a pair of wool socks that he gently pulls up to her ankles. He then lifts her body from the bed to pull back the thick blankets, nestling her in the crevice of the sheets and tucking them under her chin. 

He didn’t want to leave yet, and decided to take the time to remove the darkness around her eyes and her rosied cheeks himself, grabbing a tissue and pot of lavender balm from her nightstand. Dipping the fine paper into the thick substance, he gently rubbed her face clean, the smell of the flower sweetening the air. She looked beautiful when she slept, her chest gently rising and falling with steady breaths, her eyelids dancing with dreams she’d surely forget in the morning because he wasn’t there to let her remember.

He left her room an hour later, leaving the candle lit to continue admiring her from a distance, the flame remaining a gateway between his reality and hers.

Now he watches as she scurries out of bed, and how frantic she is to call him.

“Everything is fine,” he assures as she worries her lip, glancing out her window at the truck once more.

It wasn’t an easy feat — he’d never driven a vehicle before, taking the flaming route to wherever he needed in the mortal world, but he managed to get it there all in one piece and without any suspicions from others on the road.

He knows she liked it, but he asks concerned questions about her neck anyway. He melts at her parapraxis, a smile curving his lips as he watches her study herself in the mirror. 

He had to do it — to tease her into the idea of deviance. He’s known of deities who force their power unto their quarries, who thrust their phallus and abuse their power in favor of a selfish gain, but he’s vowed to never be like them. She will be seduced, as no enchantress of vestal virginity has ever been successful in her sorcery, but it will be by her own volition. It’s already painful enough that he’s had to avoid the real reason for his presence in her life thus far, any more pain and he’ll simply have to admit himself to the gates of hell, joining his brother to burn for eternity.

To his delight, her warden falls for her endearing performance of pretending to be unaware of the mark. He chuckles at the faux look of shock and horror she puts on, catching the flash of pride in her smile when she’s at once left alone.

Though he wishes he could watch her forever, he revels in the moment she discovers the flame burning, her beautiful face engulfing his entire line of vision for a split second before everything goes black.

#dioskouroi #josh kiszka fanfic #jake kiszka fanfic #kiszka twins fanfic #josh kiszka #jake kiszka #greta fan fleet #gret van fanfic #greta van fleet fanfic #thank you for your patience besties #mine #fics

[what-i-read-home-of-reblogs-mama]

https://x.com/GretaVanFleet/status/1710369479580877029?s=09

#greta van fleet #gvf #sam gvf #gvf sam #sam kiszka #samuel kiszka #gret

[kevyeen]

shuffle your favorite playlist and post the first five songs that come up. then copy/paste this ask to your favorite mutuals! <3

I don't have specific playlists so I shuffled entire thing

Age of Machine - Gret Van Fleet

So My Darling (Acoustic) - Rachel Chinouriri

Winter - Vivaldi (electric guitar cover)

Paiz - Kourosh Yaghmaee

Brand New City - Mitski

Thanks for the ask!! <3

#anitalianfrie!! #ask game #wow imagine listening to a single genre #couldn't be me

[ch3rrydoll]

hi love!! my big three are all aquarius and my dream date would be going to an apple orchard

☆ send me ur zodiac + dream date for a greta van fleet ship ! ( also u don't have to send me ur top three if u don't know them luvs <3 )

a/n ; ALL AQUARIUS?! ACROSS THE WHOLE BOARD ?! that being said i luv aquarius' sm <33

I ship you with Sam ! Aquarius and Aries tend to be more capable of keeping up with one another so i could definitely see him being someone that enjoys just being out at an orchard picking apples with you and just keeping the energy up and excited the entire time !

#cherie.writing #cherie.gvf #greta van fleet ships #greta van fleet imagine #gret van fleet #sam kiszka imagine #sam kiszka

[dannystattoo]

Ok GVF friends, have any of you ordered merch from their site, specifically this shirt? If so, how is it sized? I wanna order one for myself as a going back to work present and I’m stuck. Like, i don’t want it to be too small, but I also like this style of shirt very fitted and I’m not trying to deal with online exchanges right now lmao. 

#sam for ts #gret van fleet #gvf #I'm going between a small and a medium #like the small might be too small? #but also #i've gotten a couple of shirts recently where the medium is too big and it annoys me

[ageofnations]

Chamomile // drw // Pt. VIII

Summary: Danny often feels overshadowed by his best friends and bandmates. You, however, can’t seem to get your mind off of him.

Paring: Danny × fem!reader

Word Count: ~3.7k

Warnings: fluff, little bit of jealous!Danny just because i felt like it...tears, talk of anxiety, slight angst but mostly fluff tho lmaoooo

A/N: i cannot begin to explain to yall how much i appreciate you all. your support on this fic has meant the world to me, and i appreciate you for sticking with me on this journey. i can't wait to show you guys what i have planned for other fics. i cried a lot while writing this. 'tis a bittersweet feeling, but an exciting beginning to new things. thank you again, and enjoy the final part of Chamomile

Series Masterpost

Part VIII

Things didn’t slow down after that night at the bar. Fans were celebrating the new album release and the tour that the boys had finally announced after weeks of hinting at through various posts. Management had been hounded by press and interviewers wanting to schedule interviews with any of the boys that they could, but especially Danny. 

He seemed to relax a bit and get used to the attention after his win was announced. What used to be anxiety and skittishness from people talking about his status turned into pride with slight bashfulness. He was staying quite humble with the new title as best drummer of the year, almost frustratingly so. You would teasingly bring it up in your conversations, referring to him as “royalty” or some equivalent, and he would brush it off with a laugh each time.

His humility was appreciated, though. He didn’t let it affect him to the point where he was cocky, but it did help his confidence while playing. He didn’t let it change how he acted toward his bandmates, and he definitely didn’t let it change how he acted with you. You were still his number one priority.

He spent the majority of his time with you. If you weren’t sleeping in his bed for the night, he was sleeping in yours. He had about a month before the first tour date, and he made sure to be around you as much as possible.

Today, you were laying on the couch in the band’s home. You had your legs stretched across Danny’s lap on the cushion beside you. He was scrolling through his phone with one hand and rubbing the soft skin on your ankle with the other. Per his request, you were helping him find more outfits to wear for each of the tour dates they had planned, so you also were scrolling through various sketches and shops that you saw online. Occasionally, you would turn your phone to him to ask what he thought, to which he would either nod his head with a smirk or shrug his shoulders noncommittally. 

Sam had disappeared into his room to play with a few riffs he had been working on. Jake was spending the day with his girlfriend, also trying to get as many dates in as he could before the tour started. You thought you’d get to do the same, hoping to spend alone time with Danny, even if it was to do something related to the band, but instead, Josh had joined you two in the living room, draping himself over the lounge closest to you. He also was looking at sketches for himself, and occasionally the other members, and showing them to you for your opinion. You wished you had known exactly when you became the stylist for the entire band and when you’d start getting paid for your help.

“What about this one, mama? For Daniel?” Josh said. The nickname took you by surprise, although it was not foreign for Josh to use for any one, especially you. 

“Uh-” You started as you turned your head to look at the image he had zoomed in on. Before you could even focus on the vibrant sketch, Danny spoke up.

“I don’t think I like the color,” he said pointedly. He seemed to have a sort of edge to his voice, much different than just seconds prior. It was the most he had contributed to the discussion about what he did and didn’t like out of the options you both had provided him with. What further perplexed you, however, is that Josh’s sketch was the exact same color as one of the few you had shown Danny that he had said he liked. 

Josh noticed the quick change in demeanor, the hints of malicious passive-aggressiveness as Danny looked away to continue aimlessly scrolling. He noticed the way he had instinctively tightened his grip on your ankles that were crossed under his hand. You, however, passed it off as the masculine urge of territorialism, something that arose from Josh’s use of the nickname and that would pass soon after it even started.

The room was filled with uncomfortable silence for the first time all day, and you wished you could find the right words to cut through the thick tension in the atmosphere. It seemed that Josh had mustered up enough courage to take on the task himself.

“You know what would be cool?” He said, almost hesitantly. You and Danny both turned your heads to him as you waited for him to continue. “You guys should wear matching outfits to the shows. Same color, same style, something. Even if the fans don’t see you, it makes for a cute picture!” 

He didn’t mean to make matters worse, but the suggestion definitely didn’t help the tension. 

Neither you nor Danny said anything, you just simply looked away from him and back to your phones, not fully taking in whatever was on the screens in front of you. You noticed the expression on Josh’s face drop into one of confusion and concern.

“What? What is it?”

You almost couldn’t bring yourself to speak, not wanting to rub salt in the wounds. You opened your mouth to answer, but he seemed to come to the conclusion by the time you could find the right words.

“You’re…not coming with us?” 

Your heart could have shattered into millions of pieces at the disappointment you heard in his words. You felt Danny resume rubbing circles on your ankle out of reassurance and desire to help ground you.

This was an incredibly touchy subject for you. Sure you wanted to travel the world with your best friends and boyfriend. You could only imagine how fun it would be to go on tour with them. They’d be sure to include you in each of their adventures and let you see as many behind-the-scenes experiences as you could. Being able to watch Danny perform his heart out every week, with the knowledge that he was leaving the venue with his arms wrapped around you…that is what you wanted, more than anything.

But the idea of not having the comfort of your own home, or homes, to go back to any time you wanted scared you. You had grown accustomed to routine for the most part. Being in a different city, a different state, every week…it was completely different than what you were used to. It was terrifying.

Not to mention the change of status you’d have to face every time you went somewhere. You were no longer just a friend of the guys’, but now you were a girlfriend. You knew the fans would want to interact with you too now, and that seemed overwhelming to you. Having strangers come up to you and ask to take a picture almost every time you go out. Seeing your face on all of the hashtags and trending topics. Being the topic of discussion in comment sections. You had already started to get a taste of all of that after their last performance, but this would be an everyday thing. You just didn’t know if you were ready for it. 

You and Danny had talked about it countless times, and he never once pressured you to come with them. But you could still hear the sadness in his answers each time. He wanted you with him. He promised he wouldn’t leave your side unless he absolutely had to, and even then, he would try to find a loophole to where you could stay near him. He knew it would be a change of pace for you, but he hoped he could be the source of comfort and familiarity for you. He made sure to listen to each of your concerns about the topic, but you couldn’t help but feel guilty for that reason alone. He was always so receptive to your worries, but it did very little to shift your decision. You wished you could change your own mind, for him. 

Josh had put the pieces together before you could answer again. He picked up on the way your shoulders tensed and the way Danny had frozen in place when he asked. He could read every bit of your body language. He tried to bite back his own sadness, not wanting to make it any harder on you both.

“Well, that sucks…but we will try to visit you as much as possible!” The forced nature of his optimism was evident, but you still appreciated it nonetheless. “Any off day we have, it goes to you. We’ll fly back in between dates if we have the time. I know Daniel couldn’t stay away from you for too long.” Josh shot a playful wink to Danny, who still seemed a little out of it from the topic being brought up. 

You doubted that it was a viable option for the group, but you could at least hope that you would still see them as much as he claimed.

– 

A week before the guys were set to fly out to start the tour, things started setting in. You were about to be mostly alone for the majority of the year. You knew Danny would call and text as much as possible, and hopefully come back for the holidays at least, but being away from him just meant you'd have more boring nights than you wished for. With the amount of time that you were about to have to yourself, you knew you needed to find something else to occupy yourself with. You figured getting a physical job to go to on a normal basis would help. You didn’t need the money whatsoever, especially since you still planned to sell your crafts in your online shop, but you knew you would need the distraction.

Danny had tried to tell you that he could get you a job at the place his sister works, but you declined, stating that you wanted to find one on your own. You wanted the accomplishment of getting a job you found yourself, but you also figured essentially working with a replica of your boyfriend would do little to distract you from the fact that he was no longer there. 

Instead of pushing the idea, he said he’d help in any way possible, opting to drive you to whatever business you wanted in order to get and complete applications. He wanted to make a day out of it, so you both decided to go to lunch and go shopping after you were finished with the job searching process. 

The car ride was fun in itself, and having Danny alongside you made it seem less nerve-wracking to go into each establishment and ask if they were hiring. Every time you’d come back to the car, he’d ask how it went and listen intently to assess if he needed to do any damage control. Afterward, he’d put on your favorite songs as he cruised to the next destination. 

After stopping at countless businesses, you decided it was time to call it quits for the day. Danny took you to a small diner for lunch where he ordered blueberry pancakes for the both of you because “Who said you can’t have pancakes at noon?” You two ate over small conversations about big plans for the tour before finally heading out to do some shopping.

He hadn’t been looking at much for himself the whole time you were walking through the strip mall. Honestly, neither of you were looking much. You just reveled in the time out in public with each other, hand-in-hand. The most he had gotten was a pair of sunglasses and a couple of sets of socks that he found. He had bought you a necklace and earring set that you had insisted was way too expensive, so you especially weren’t anticipating looking for anything else to buy. 

That is until a beautiful white sundress caught your attention in a shop’s window. Danny picked up on your infatuation with the dress before you could even say anything. He could see it in the way your eyes widened, how your breathing hitched slightly, how you automatically started to move towards the window and drag him behind you. You didn’t bring yourself to actually enter the shop, still set on not spending any more money for the day, but you stood in front of the display in the window, ogling the bright fabric of the garment.

“You’re drooling, Bip,” Danny teased. He laughed as you instinctively raised your hand to check if his words rang true, only to find that he was exaggerating. “You should try it on, though.”

You shook your head. “No way. If I actually like it, you’re not going to let me pay for it myself.”

“And what’s wrong with that?”

You shot him a scolding glare, vacant of any malice. “You’ve spent enough money on me for the day.”

“Oh come on,” he whined and motioned for the door. “Just try it on. It’s gorgeous, and I want to see it on you.”

Embarrassingly enough, it didn’t take much more sweet-talking from him to convince you to actually go into the store, and once you were both inside, it was too late to back out. He had asked the attendant if they had your size in the dress, which she happily helped you find and open a dressing room for you. 

Once you had it on, you were slightly disappointed that you had already promised yourself that you wouldn’t buy it. The dress’s flowy fabric came just past your knees. The puffy sleeves hung slightly below your shoulders and were extremely comfortable. The outfit complemented you in all of the best ways. The pure white stood out and could gain the attention of anyone while also enhancing your complexion and highlighting your natural skin tones. Hints of cleavage were visible and your figure was accentuated while still remaining mostly modest. 

As you stood in front of the mirror in the dressing room, you twisted from side to side so you could admire the way the skirt fanned out around you. You couldn’t help doing a few twirls to fully get the experience. You felt beautiful, and you knew you looked good. 

“You gonna keep doing 360s or am I going to get to see how the dress looks on you?” you heard Danny call from the other side of the door. You giggled before you stalled your spinning, wobbling a little from dizziness.

You knew he’d like it as much as you did, if not more, but you still felt a little nervous to show him. You paused and took a deep breath before opening the door to reveal yourself to him. 

Just as yours had done when you first saw the dress on display, Danny’s eyes widened as he scanned over your body.

“Oh my god…”

You bit back a giggle at his response. You did another small twist and studied his expression with bated breath. “Well? What do you think?”

He huffed in awe. “What do I think? It looks absolutely amazing on you.” He ghosted his fingertips down your arms, still drinking in every bit of your appearance. He grabbed one of your hands and brought it over your head, twirling you around as if you were dancing together. He could have sworn that he fell even harder for you as he watched your cheeks grow a shade of peach with your giggles. “You look gorgeous, Bip.”

“Thank you, Danny,” you answered and gave him a sweet peck on the cheek. “But we’re still not getting it.”

“Whatever you say, love.” 

You grinned at him, glad that he hadn’t pushed to spend more money on you, but also a little sad that you would have to take the dress off. 

“Let me change before I run out of here with this thing on,” you joked, turning back to the dressing room you had originally occupied.

Danny stopped you and clutched onto your hand that he still clasped, tugging you back to face him. “Hey-”

You turned back to him, blushing at the affectionate smile he had still on his face as he looked down at you. 

“-I’m gonna marry you someday,” he finished.

You almost felt speechless, but you were incredibly endeared by the statement and the moment with him. The way he looked at you like he wouldn’t get to ever again. The way his hand was holding yours so tenderly. You felt alone in the universe with him, and it took a lot of effort to remind yourself that you were in a public place.

“Why not now?” The hesitation in your response made the question come out as a near whisper. You were only halfway joking, trying to match his boldness. “I’m already in a white dress, we could do it now.”

He kissed your forehead and let go of your hand so you could return to the dressing room. “Someday.”

– 

It came much too quickly. The day he would be leaving to be on the road for months on end. The day you both dreaded, but the day that you looked forward to for them. You were excited for them to continue their dream, but you wished you could have just a little longer with them. It was bittersweet.

You had driven Danny to the airport yourself, trying to soak up the last few moments you would have by his side. You didn’t say much, but he had occasionally broken the road noise by saying “I love you” as a reminder to you both. He wasn’t looking forward to this any more than you were, even if he was leaving to play for thousands of his beloved fans. 

Now you stood at the airport, saying your last few goodbyes. You started with the other boys by giving all of the hugs and well wishes you possibly could. You tried to absorb each of their scents and embraces, hopeful to embody at least a portion of them all while they were away. They meandered away from you and Danny to give you some space. They talked amongst themselves as they waited for the drummer.

You stood impossibly close to him, so close that you could feel his warm and gentle breath on your face. You hadn’t let the tears fall yet, but god were they close to doing just that.

“Are you sure you don’t want to come with us?” He sounded slightly hopeful, even though he knew the answer he hoped for was unlikely. 

You chuckled at his question. “It’s a little too late now, don’t you think?”

“We can catch a different flight. Or you could come with us now and I can just buy you a whole new wardrobe or something.” He clutched your hands tighter, praying that his offers and pleads would possibly convince you to join them.

Your pout and silence were enough of an answer to him. He knew how much you wanted to come with, and he could see the apologetic look in your eyes. He didn’t want to ruin your last few moments with his disappointment. 

“Well…before I leave,” he started. He released his grip on your hands and started to dig through his carry-on bag. He pulled out a small blue gift bag, a little wrinkled and bent from being in such a compact space, and a small wrapped gift box. “I got you a few things.”

You rolled your eyes at the gesture, but you took the gifts from him with a loving smile. “You know you didn’t need to do this, right?”

“Oh just open them,” he quipped with a smile that matched yours.

You handed him the box to hold while you rummaged past the tissue paper in the bag. As soon as your hand dove into it, you knew exactly what it was. You pulled out the white sundress that you had tried on a week prior, and the tears immediately started to fall. You let out a choked sob, one that made the others briefly turn to face you to make sure you were okay. 

Danny smiled and wiped the fast-flowing tears from your cheeks as much as he could. “I had already bought it before you tried it on. I ordered it and had it shipped to the house as soon as you went into that dressing room.” 

The gesture was incredibly sweet, so incredibly Danny, and you were yet again reminded how blessed you were to have him. You repeated many thank yous past the overwhelming happiness that you were feeling, and he held the box back out to you. You couldn’t imagine what other gift could top this one, and you eagerly put the dress back in its bag to grab the box from him.

The paper encasing the box was thin, and you assumed it was just the same tissue paper used in the gift bag. There was a sticker of a white flower that held the tissue together. You wondered if Danny had wrapped it himself or if he had gotten help from someone else.

As you started tearing through the paper, you started to see the writing on the box, and you successfully pieced the letters and fragments together long before you had the wrapping off of it. The hot tears were back soon enough, and you noticed your lover had started crying, too.

You focused on the green print on the box and traced your finger across it.

Chamomile tea bags: 20 count

You looked up at Danny with a watery smile. 

“For the times I’m not there to make it myself,” he said.

The hug was one of the last things you remembered. He held you tightly for as long as he possibly could. You both were shaking with the tears that flowed onto each other’s shoulders. He was repeatedly telling you how much he loved you and how much he was going to miss you. You had never felt so safe, so loved, and you regretted that you would have to pull away and go your separate ways. 

And as you watched him walk away, you regretted not throwing out all of your inhibitions and running after him.

You didn’t know that the regretful feeling would only get worse the longer you stayed away from him.

_

Read Marigold to pick up from here ;)

taglist: @gretavanflowerpower @joshkiszkas @teenagesublimefan @streamsofstardust @fireandsaltydogs @gretavanflipflop @kdarling1 @greta-van-chaos @stardustingold @the-chaotic-cow @tripthelight-fanfic @gretavancreep @gretavanfleas @weightofdreamz @myownparadise96 @loofypoofy @doodle417 @gmolszewski @m1rkw00dpr1ncess @hearts-hunger @s0livagant @stardustdanny

#chamomile #danny x bip #gvf #greta van fleet #gretavanfleet #danny wagner #jake gvf #josh gvf #danny gvf #jake kiszka #josh kiszka #peaceful army #the peaceful army #daniel wagner #daniel gvf #danny wagner fluff #daniel wagner fanfic #danny x reader #gret van fleet fluff #greta van fanfic #greta van fleet fan fiction #greta van fleet fic #danny wagner fanfic #danny wagner gvf #sam kiszka #sammy kiszka #sam gvf #sammy gvf #danny wagner x reader

[joshkiszkasgirlfriend]

guuuuyyysss…. Is that jake wearing the hair clip??? 🥵

#jake kiszka #jake gvf #danny wagner #danny gvf #sammy kiszka #sammy gvf #gret #greta van fleet #gvf

[sinners-go-to-drink-the-wine]

College Josh

#josh kiszka #gvf #gret van fleet

[ramblinspirit]

Here’s a random ass Sammy lockscreen that no one asked for that I made for myself because???

#gvf #greta van fleet #greta van fleet lockscreen #sammy kiszka #gret

[order-of-river-phoenix]

So I want to write

I used to write imagines and stuff on wattpad, but I got rid of the app bc I just don't use it anymore, but I rlly want to write again.

I'm in a bunch of fandoms, and all the ones I'd like to write for will be listed in the tags, but if you happen to have a request of any sort (as vague or specific as you want), please feel free to let me know. My inbox should be open. I usually only write reader inserts, but if you'd like a personalized imagine, just ask and include any info you want mentioned.

I do NOT write:

-smut (I stay at pg-13, so it may be suggestive but nothing beyond that)

-self-harm (not to say I don't do angst or anything, but no cutting or burning or anything like that)

-pedophilia

-incest

-I might add to this as I find more things I realize I am u comfortable writing

#80s #90s #it 2017 #it 1990 #harry potter #harry potter next gen #marauders #marauders era #hp marauders #marvel #mcu #hp imagines #mcu imagines #80s imagines #90s imagines #greta van fleet #gvf #gret van fleet imagines #gvf imagines #marauders imagines #omb #omb imagines #on my block #on my block imagines #borhap #borhap imagines #stranger things #stranger things imagines

[dharma-divine]

DIOSKOUROI

(dee-aw-skoo-ree)

COMING 2022

Welcome to my newest writing project — a sultry, satanic slow burn, inspired by Greek mythology and witchcraft.

Pairing: Kiszka Twins x (Female) Reader

DISCLAIMER: THIS SERIES WILL FEATURE 18+, NSFW CONTENT

taglist: @garbagevanfleet @gardenvanfleet @alwayzthere @jakekiszska @sammygvfslut @gretavanhoney @prettyxvenomx @maverick-rose @fosterkidwiththebrokenjaw @aureummel @joshysgf @obetrolncocktails @capturethechaos

Here's a sneak peak of what's to come (+ thank you @godlygreta for being my beta for this ♡) —

☽ ✩ ☾

FLECTERE SI NEQUEO SUPEROS, ACHERONTA MOVEBO.

The words echo in your mind in a deep, thunderous voice as your vision manifests into a thicket of evergreens. You look up to see an orange glow beyond the treetops, specks of ember rising to melt with the stars. Tendrils of rich foliage loom above you, their sunken arms dusting you with crystalline dewdrops as you maneuver through them. You’re winded — you don’t recall running, but your lungs burn as they gulp in the frigid air, your chest heaving staggered breaths as they try to recover.

You’re getting closer.

You look down at your feet as they continue to guide you towards the entrancing voice; they’re bare, but numb to the nettles and other debris of the forest floor. You curl your stiffened fingertips into tight fists, your nails digging into your palms once you know you’ve reached the last row of trees. You hesitate to reach forward, to push through the remaining branches and step into the clearing before you, a massive beacon of fire blazing in its center.

He’s sitting at the base of the inferno, his legs crossed neatly in front of him, his fingers splayed over his knees as the flames cast dancing shadows across his face. A mess of curls sit atop his head like a crown of thorns, coils of amber lit in the fiery glow. You realize as you approach that his eyes are shut, his eyelids fluttering frantically as his lips move to match the same booming voice, though you know it’s entirely too powerful to be coming from his small frame alone.

FACTUM FIERI INFECTUM NON POTEST. VENI AD ME, TE ARCESSO.

You don’t know what the words mean exactly, but you can feel their intention — they’re a plea for help.

“I’m here,” you answer, your voice meek and distant from where it escapes from your lips.

Suddenly, his eyes open, irises blazing with the same fire that begins to magnify behind him, as if someone just doused it with gasoline.

“Please,” he begs, now in a tongue you understand, and in a voice much more fitting for the boy who speaks it. “Save him.”

As he breathes the last word, a figure appears within the flames. Though casted completely black, you can tell by his broadened silhouette that he’s also a boy — his frame a direct shadow of the one who sits before him.

You suddenly feel yourself being pulled forward by a ghostly force, as if your motile limbs have disconnected from your consciousness entirely. You walk past the boy sitting in the grass and up to the edge of the flames, swells of orange and white filling your sight once you’re stopped at the charred edge of the grass. You think that’s as far as you’ll go, but you gasp as your foot steps directly onto the glowing embers. You clamp your eyes shut, preparing yourself for blistering pain, but to your surprise, there’s no pain at all.

Your eyes blink open to watch as you become completely engulfed in the fire. The flames lap up your legs and kiss your fingertips as you venture further, but it only feels as though you’ve dipped your body into a warm bath – it’s almost comforting. You look up at the dark figure you’re now approaching to see that he has an arm extended towards you, palm facing upwards. You reach out and grab his hand with your own, and you’re shocked to feel the sensation of calloused fingertips and a plush palm, even though he only appears to be a shadowy void in front of you. You squeeze it as he leads you deeper into the fire.

You’re finally starting to see his features as you get closer – dark eyes, full lips, wisps of hair that lay gently on his shoulders. He’s a beautiful boy, just like his brother – you haven’t even fully discerned them yet, but something tells you that they share blood. He stops when you’re only centimeters from his frame, keeping his hand gripped in yours as you continue to stare back at him. His presence has the same enigma as the sheath of flames around you — he feels dangerous, threatening even, but there’s comfort in the way he gazes upon you. A shadow of indigence lies in his features, like soot stained in the crests of his brow and the corners of his mouth. You can tell he’s been suffering for longer than you can even begin to imagine, but his features have suddenly shifted as he’s caught sight of hope— of you. He looks at you like you’re his salvation, like you’re his only promise of freedom from whatever hell he’s been facing.

His lips perk into a smile, tears of sorrow and misery draining from his eyes as you reach with your other hand to caress his cheek.

Your motion, however, is interrupted just before contact by a dull, heavy pressure that starts to gather in your chest. You gasp, clutching at the area, but to your dismay, nothing is there. You start to panic as the sensation quickly grows into a sharp, piercing pain, and you begin struggling for breath, frantically grabbing at your chest in desperation for it to stop. You cry with frustration when it doesn’t, and you look up at the boy to see that he is now equally as horrified. You want to beg for his help —you honestly just want to scream— but just as you’re opening your mouth, another force suddenly yanks away from him, and from out of the fire entirely.

You’re dragged and swallowed into the night, stifling sobs once your eyes meet the expanse of the eerie woods once again.

You feel tired, and hopelessly alone, stuck inside this dreadful time loop. You want nothing more than to collapse onto the forest floor, to decay and become one with the earth, your soul seeping into the dirt so that you never have to relive this nightmare ever again.

But your skin pricks at a rush of cold wind, another menacing voice carried with its blow that causes you to scramble to your feet.

RUN.

☽ ✩ ☾

Synopsis —

Twins POV —

After committing a heinous crime in the eyes of his coven, Josh Kiszka has been banished from the Infernal Church and forced to reside within the realms of mortal reality. This wouldn’t be a terrible fate for the delinquent warlock, however Josh did not act alone in his maleficence —his twin half-brother Jake had been his proud accomplice, but Jake was tragically slain in the process of their illicit act. During his judgment, Josh successfully persuaded the church council to give him two options: either accept his brother’s death as punishment, or give up part of his immortality to Jake, under the conditions that the twins would remain separated for eternity, with Jake residing in the hellscape fields of Elysium, and Josh among the land above. Stubbornly determined to reunite with his brother, Josh chose the latter, and has since used the remnants of his warlock abilities to scour the relics of his former coven’s archives, desperately in search of how to rescue Jake from hell and continue their partial immortality together on Earth.

After centuries of research, Josh has caught wind of hope —a baby girl, gifted by her unholy creators to a mortal woman with the promise that she will remain safe from the corruption of the underworld. She has the power to bring Jake back, but her ignorance to her magical abilities becomes apparent as he watches her grow, blooming into the promising, beautiful young woman she was fated to be, all while remaining shielded from her perilous potential within the depths of the forest. It isn’t until her 7,777th day on mortal earth that Josh is able to conjure her, appearing in a series of vivid dreams, before the two ultimately meet within the lecture halls of a fine arts academy he’s followed her to— the sanguine, starry-eyed girl seemingly unaware of the course of forbidden arts that the fated warlock is about to bestow upon her.

Reader POV —

Having been orphaned as an infant and smothered by your savvy, but painfully overbearing Aunt Edith for your first 21 years of life, you aren’t too familiar with what it's like to exist beyond the thresholds of the cottage you share with her and her irksome cat, Lazlo. You’ve been rather deprived of adolescence, as well as any sense of individuality, your free time spent helping her mend to her garden, sweeping the foyer, and whatever frivolous chores she wishes to assign to you. That’s why, when you receive an acceptance letter from a prestigious fine arts academy she had reluctantly let you apply for— only after you threatened your life if she didn’t—you’re brimming with excitement for the newfound freedom. Friends, parties, romance, everything you could ever dream of was just in reach, even if it means you have to continue living at home instead of a dormitory for the sake of your worrisome aunt.

The academy is where you meet Josh; the curly-haired, smiley boy who sits next to you on the first day of your Art of Ancient Greece class. Josh is a dreamboat: charming, intelligent, and incredibly distracting when it comes to your studies. Josh feels oddly familiar to you, but it isn’t until you’re shaken by a bout of haunting dreams that you realize where you’ve seen him before. You come to find that the seemingly sinless boy is actually an occulted warlock, and that he needs your help to release his equally sinister, yet equally enchanting brother from the depths of hell, but only after you’ve mastered your mystic abilities and learned of the tragic truths of your lineage.

#apologies for my latin #but very excited to get this going #kiszka twins #josh kiszka #jake kiszka #kiszka fanfic #gret van fanfic #gret van fleet fic #gvf fanfic #witchcraft #witchyvibes #dark academia #academia #writing #fanfic

[serenityfm]

mwm?

i know that the rest of gret van fleet would be wanted, maybe sebastian stan, motionless in white members, rest of the a7x boys, let them know down below!

#m: onyx. #sfm.requests

[hatake-kakashi]

tagged by @stars-n-light for my 9 favorite albums. Thanks love ♡ my music taste has been the same for 6 years

boom boom room (side a) by palaye royale // mtv unplugged in new york by nirvana // hozier by hozier

three cheers for sweet revenge by my chemical romance // press it by taemin // from the fires by gret van fleet

collide with the sky by pierce the veil // sinners never sleep by you me at six // madness by sleeping with sirens

not pictured: sound of madness by shinedown; 21st century breakdown by green day; the bastards by palaye royale; endgame by rise against; wasteland baby by hozier; hot fuss by the killers; want by taemin ((and many more because i love music so much))

I tag @sleebyboyhours , @raineyes , @h3arteyes , @kxzekage , @oklogan , @juubiobito , and anyone else that wants to ♡♡

#tag game #sunnie.text #andy tag #this was fun!! #yes i am still emo im sorry