#something something the sun came down to earth to kiss the moon

[soaked-doors]

solar totality

#happy eclipse day here’s how I can make this about luzo #something something the sun came down to earth to kiss the moon #zolu #luzo #monkey d. luffy #roronoa zoro #one piece #one piece fanart #my art #luffy #zoro

[meidnightrain]

YOUR BEST AVGIN BOY❞ - aventurine

summary: sometimes he can’t help but wish, to be a better person worthy of your love

warnings: reader is gn, angst, hints of spoilers for 2.1 penacony quest

notes: inspired by the song your best american girl by mitski because honestly ever since aventurine came out, i keep thinking of him whenever that song plays.

taglist(open): @akutasoda , @ryuryuryuyurboat , @toorurs , @yvnaology , @tragedy-of-commons , @staarri , @rainswept

you have so much to do in this world, you live, you learn, and you grow towards the sun like a seed sprouting from the earth. but AVENTURINE had nothing ahead of him, it seemed. to be haunted endlessly by his past, to gamble everything he had on the line and wish for his luck to run out eventually, to be nothing more than a reminder of his family that were now gone.

you hold him in your embrace tightly, so tight that the thoughts that gnaw at him cannot grasp his shoulders. he can be protective at times; you’ve noticed that self-destructive and self-sacrificial side of his, and you’ve hated it for as long as you remember.

you’ve once asked why his favourite suit were spades—why not hearts or diamonds? his answer had been because they symbolised luck, and you had not bought his answer without hesitation. spades were commonly tied to death—the balance between creation and destruction.

if he could, he’d be your little spoon, held together by your arms that would wrap around his waist. and he’d kiss your fingers forevermore, slender and soft, unlike his calloused and sly ones, his fingers that were stained with blood and used for trickery. you run them through his hair, caressing his cheeks. you’ve memorised every nook and cranny of him, from the curve of his hip to the shape of his jaw.

he shivered under your touch, sending chills down his spine and willing him to pull your body closer to his so that you’d envelop all of him, even the bad parts that he hated.

your hold on him tightens ever so slightly, willing yourself not to waver when you speak, to be strong, and to protect him like he always did for you. “there have been moments where you’ve been more than not fine, but fine itself is the best way of describing how you feel without getting me to worry about you. so tell me, what can i do to make you stop hurting?”

“i think if you kissed me more than once, i’d be alright.” his voice is low, muffled from where he had burrowed his face into your chest.

he can hear the rumble of your laughter from where his head lay over your heart, feel the gentle and steady beating of your heart, a lullaby that lulls him to sleep. AVENTURINE has always been vulnerable in your arms; when his mouth meets yours, you both melt into each other almost instantly.

your mother wouldn't approve of how his mother raised him—alone in the ruthless sands and learning to survive with sharp wit and cunning. in fact, he knew that your family hated him, for he was an avgin. sweet as honey, twisted into something more sour by the ipc who spread falsehoods and lies to promote their agenda in the galaxy.

and some part of him couldn’t help but try to be the best he could be for you and dispel that idea people perceived of him, even if he himself didn’t believe they were wrong.

his desire had always been futile, for you had the options and the freedom to become whoever you wanted to be. he had always been nothing but a remnant of an extinct race, a miracle survivor amongst the thousands of his people lost.  

you are the sun, a glimmering star in the sky that is adored and praised by many. you've never seen the night; why would you when all everyone needs is you? but you hear its song from the morning birds, one of sweet symphony and of the refreshing glow that is its moonlight. he is not the moon, AVENTURINE is not even a star. he wasn’t flashy; he could not even compare to the light you brought. but awake at night, he’ll be singing to the birds, weaving tales for them to bring back to you, even if he knew that you’d never spare a glance at him, even if it mean that he’d never be able to see your smile.

he is the one; he is all you have ever wanted, even though you knew that loving him would ruin you. how does one heal a broken heart, one too far shattered beyond repair? you build him up again, like piecing a puzzle and filling up his missing pieces using fragments of you. and he could never be unloved by you, for his is too well tangled into your soul. every bit of you screams for him, for his love, for him to be yours, even if you know that it will be lost in the void.

and you’d wait for him to return from the abyss, even though you knew that some part of him didn’t wish to come back to you.

© AVENTURNE 2024. DO NOT COPY, REPOST, SHARE, TRANSLATE OR REUPLOAD MY WORKS ONTO ANY OTHER SITE WITHOUT MY PERMISSION

#🗞️ - honkai star rail fics #—stellaronhvnters. #・ nouveau livre ˎˊ˗ #honkai star rail x reader #honkai star rail x you #hsr x reader #hsr x you #aventurine x reader #aventurine x you #honkai star rail angst #hsr angst #honkai star rail #hsr aventurine

[priceyprice]

Simon is not a believer.

He doesn't believe in things like the earth is flat, aliens are green with antlers, superstitions, and other things. He doesn't believe in angels, demons, myths like greek mythology or spirits —instead of ghosts, he believes that spirits are a form of energy and not just a white silhouette of a person—, he's not of a much believer of anything. He hardly has emotions, years of shutting down everything he felt since all his trajectory and his dark past, so there's no way he believes in something.

Oh, that's until he saw her.

The moment he saw her, the thought of not believing in angels was vanished like the thin smoke of a cigarette.

She was standing in front of him, introducing herself like the new member of the team with her sweet voice that sounded like honey dripping from her soft lips. Her face was soft and delicate, something he had never seen before. When she extended her hand for a handshake, the soft texture of her almost melted him on the spot. How can she be a sergeant with that delicate face? How can she kill on the battlefield with those soft hands?

She was a true angel.

A few weeks later, when they were on a mission, Simon realized how much he underestimated her.

She could kill like a demon.

She could kill anyone in matter of seconds. There was no remorse or sympathy behind those pretty eyes the second she stepped into battleground.

Now, Simon believes in angels and demons.

Almost a year later, when Simon finally was in a relationship with her, he discovered other beliefs.

His room was filled with soft moans, whimpers, and the sound of the bed creaking. His hands were on her waist as hers were on his broad shoulders. He was sitting on the edge of the bed while she was on top of him riding him like her life depended on it.

Their kisses were messy and sloppy, teeth clashing and tongues fighting for dominance, not caring of anyone who would pass in front of the room, abusing of his power as they know no one will snitch on the lieutenant.

Her hands roamed down to his chest, taking him by surprise when she pushed him down so he was lying completely on his bed. His eyes found hers, confused about why she used all that force on him, thinking maybe she didn't wanna do it anymore.

Before he could process what was happening again, she started to ride him again faster. A low growl formed on her throat.

Simon hissed and closed his eyes for a second. "Fuck... you're too fast."

"I don't care." She answered, almost sounding like a whimper.

His hands flew to her hips, and he opened his eyes, only to found the most perfect view he could ever had.

Her hair was disheveled, his impatient hands taking the blame for all her strands in different directions. Her expression was contorted to one of pure ecstasy and a few rebel strands of hair and droplets of sweat adorning her forehead. Her skin was glowing like the morning sun rising up behind the mountains. Her hips moved like the waves on a night with a full moon. Her soft skin against his was like the clouds adorning the very blue sky.

That's when Simon came to the realization that he believed in something more.

In goddesses.

She looked like a total goddess trying to search for her release, panting and sweating, up and down, using him for reaching that state of pure bliss.

When they finished, they lay down on his bed, hugging each other without saying anything. Skin red and sweaty, covers dirty and wrinkled, room smelling like sex and their scents. They didn't care as long as they were embracing each other and forgetting about the world after his room door.

At that moment, Simon started to believe in something else.

Heaven.

As much as he wanted to avoid the bitter events, he couldn't simply do it. One day, on a mission trying to find a gang leader and a human trafficker, they kidnapped his lover. Leaving no trace behind to have a clue and save her.

The way his heart fell from his chest was worse than any other things he had experienced in life. Those gang members took away his reason to live, his reason to breathe, his reason to love.

Simon discovered another belief that day.

Hell.

And he will bring hell to every person who touched even a single strand of hair from his lover.

He will bring the devil himself just to save her.

[Part 1 here]

[Part 3 here]

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#ghost x reader #simon ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley #ghost #ghost cod #cod mw2 #task force 141 #141 x reader #cod 141

[zedif-y]

there are reasons to kiss you, hidden in the curve of your smile.

you laugh and it's beautiful, something giddy in my sun-warmed cheeks. my hands twitch at my sides, and i wonder.

there's a Filipino tradition, one i've heard of but never really seen.

harana, my relatives call it. men serenading women under the cover of night, guitar in hand and illuminated by the moon. they repeat that, over and over. only at night, my lola says. it's too hot, too bright during the day.

i mouth the words: harana, serenade. i think about standing outside your window, lips parted in song.

i wonder if i should kiss you. soft lips on mine, your back pressed against a wall. shadows cradling us like curtains. you say something, then, and i find i can't quite meet your eyes.

it's strange, isn't it, how i find more solace in the dark.

(too hot, too bright, too exposed in the day.)

we talk, but i don't remember what about. you grin like the sun, and like the tide the words well in my throat, pushing, pushing...

hey, what if...

i look down at the ground. my mouth stays shut.

the sky is growing darker, pinks turning into purples turning into blues. it's not quiet, but sitting in this corner, i can almost pretend.

my thoughts drift. i think about learning the guitar.

you don't sing much, but neither do i.

that's okay, i think, gaze on the horizon. on the setting sun. it doesn't have to be good. it just has to be you.

your hair sways in the wind, the skin of your neck exposed. a part of me wonders how you'd react, then, if i kissed that spot— a giggle, a shocked gasp?

i tear my eyes away, nails digging into the meat of my palm.

i wish, i think to myself, that this came easier to me.

our friends wave at us some distance away. the moment is broken, dusting ourselves off from the pavement.

we don't kiss. a sigh unravels from my chest.

(under a blanket of stars, would i have been braver?)

i'd sing for you, is the thing. i'd sing for you. does it have to be profound? does it have to shake the earth, make flowers bloom from the grass?

i can only give you my voice, awkward and stilted and a little too soft.

i hope the moon answers my prayer. i hope she tells me it's enough.

(maybe, one night, i'll be brave.)

#ryan's screaming #ryan's writing #uhm uhm UHMMMM #KLSJDGHKJSDGH OKAY TO REBLOG? THIS IS. VERY GAY #spilled ink #spilled poetry #writeblr #wlw #wlw poem #wlw poetry #sapphic poetry #sapphic poem #personal #KSDJGHSDG listen. its gotta reach the right audience #LOOKS AROUND. AM I GETTING TOO COMFORTABLE ON THIS BLOG

[deicidis]

Unpetal Me and Burst Me Open Wide

Warnings: pseudo-incest relationship

18+ only, your media consumption is your own responsibilities. Warnings have been given. Do not proceed if these matters upset you.

Summary:  Dream of The Endless longed to reunite with his lover, Hope of The Endless.

My gift to you, the first to dream. He had kissed her brow and made her sleep.

My gift to you, the first to hope. She had touched his chest and planted the seed.

Dream of the Endless dreamed of Hope of the Endless.

Dream of the Endless hoped for Hope of The Endless.

One cannot exist in the absence of another. One is an extension of the other. One came before the other. Dream, then Hope.

The root of their love was a recent realization, though the bond they spun has existed since their creation in the womb of time. Formed by something beyond understanding.

Now, Dream thinks he has failed her and their bond.

Will you receive me when I return? He had asked her.

Always. She answered.

In that Manor he heard the night turning into day, the moon swallowing the sun. He heard the orgy of a hundred mouths and the rotting blade of grass. But he cannot hear her, not even the other Endless.

Dream wanted to strike the glass dome with his head for being so careless.

For the past century, vacillating between his quiet rage and resentment in that cage, Hope was in the middle of it. Always.

He dreamed of her, her laughter, and her smile. The sound of her naked sole pattering on the marble hall of his castle, her gentle caresses at the dawning star. He yearns for her lovely eyes, made from starlight and remnants of a Nebula.

He hoped for the day when he’d be reunited with her would come faster. His eyes burned whenever he thought of walking through her Meadow again. Filled with Hyacinths and  Lilies and all manner of dreamlike flowers that no earth could grow or even imagine. Watching the faeries play with the hummingbirds on the gravel of the river bed and the Perytons drinking the cool stream. He'd inhale the sweet scent of honey and petrichor in the air, then wait for her there to return from sowing herself to those who needed it the most. To embrace her whole.

If she would have him still.

For as long as he could remember, Hope was always a passionate being. His darling, vulnerable Hope. Prone to tears and bitterness. Just like every time she had found that her subjects had squandered her gift.

The foundation of his anxiety was this; not once did he ever abandon her. Left her to her own devices for a long period of time. He did not know what would she receive him with when he returned. Perhaps with her heartbreak, left him in her anguish to sulk in the waking world, toiling to remove him from her thoughts, her insides. Or with her fury, tore down her Meadow and built a new one in a separate plane of existence, dividing his realm from hers in her distress, believing he had abandoned her. Just like their brother did.

He could ask for her help and let the situation explain itself. But that is the last thing he would do. All the shame he would carry should she see him in such a state, stripped of all his power. Debased. Humiliated… He got himself into this mess. He’ll be the one enacting his own revenge.

Always. Her last words echoed inside him.

All he could do was close his eyes and wait. And dream of her. Hope for himself, from the seed she had sown in him.  

-

He felt the surge of thrill running through his spine and prickled his chest when he saw the senile Alex Burgess’ wheelchair smudged the binding that had plagued him for the past century. He counts the seconds until he is free. He thinks of Hope’s fingertips that would soon come. He maintained his face in a stillness of indifference and apathy.

Always.

-

Dream felt the sand beneath his fingertips, under his body as he lay on his side, burrowed under his nails as he clawed the dark grains. He breathed in deep the familiar brackish air from the sea he had wrought.

Then a voice called to him. Desperation and shock and exhilaration addled into one intonation. When she helped him turn on his back, he smiled for the first time in more than a century. A wide, joyous one.

"Lucienne." He reached for her hand.

"You’re home, my lord." Lucienne returned his smile with tears brimming in her eyes.

"I am."

-

Something’s not right. The sky was too muddy, the dust was a lot thicker in the air near the palace gates. His intuition was right when Lucienne confirmed it as he opened the gates.

"Forgive me, sir, but… the realm, the palace, they are not as you left them."

The dread that tore his stomach when he saw the state of his kingdom made his hands tremble.

"What happened here? Who did this?" He rasped as he drank all that came into his view. His realm, dying, withering, all browns and greys and no life could be seen.  

"My lord, you are the Dreaming. The Dreaming is you. With you gone as long as you were the realm began to- decay. And crumble." Lucienne answered mournfully. Her mouth shadowed a frown.

"And the residents? The palace staff?"

"I’m afraid most have gone."

"Gone?" he parroted in disbelief.

"Some went looking for you."

"And the others?"

"They thought you’d grown weary of your duties. And…"

‘What? Abandoned them? Had they so little faith in me? Do my own subjects not know me?”

"If i may sir, it would not be the first time one of the Endless-"

"Enough," he said, his mind wandering to Hope, her absence sorely felt.

Always. Dream’s chest felt heavier.

"I will not have dreams and nightmares preying on the waking world. I will bring them all back."

Dream gazed into the distance. The ache inside him grew stronger with each second passing.

"I made this realm once Lucienne. I will make it again." he said with finality as he closed the gates behind them.

"Tell me, why hasn't my Hope not yet greeted me? Where is she? Did she leave this realm too?" He raised his concern.

"My lord… it’s best for me to show you instead." He discerned the hesitation in Lucienne before she answered.

-

Dream didn’t really prepare himself for what he would find. He didn’t truly know what to expect.

When he reached the palace’s throne room, he could see her silhouette from afar, where she remained on his throne. Hunched and unmoving. He never took into account that at one point in his eternal life, he would be afraid of climbing the steps that led to the other part of himself.

"I kept a journal for a while. A chronicle of everything that happened in your absence. Every day, I kept entries about the lady. The state she was in." Lucienne started, her voice laced with melancholy.

"But slowly the words began to fade. Sometime after you left all the books in the library became bound volumes of blank paper. The next day the whole library was gone. I never found it again." she continued.

"And yet you remained while others fled, the royal librarian of an abandoned kingdom." He answered. Though crass, it was the closest thing he could convey that he was grateful.

"I never felt abandoned. I knew you would return. As does my lady." Her voice was strong and firm. Held with conviction.

Preparing himself for the inevitable, Dream asked his loyal librarian.

"What happened, Lucienne? What happened to my dear Hope?" He whispered.

"She- I don’t know what happened. When you disappeared, she looked for you. But- she told me you never called her, she couldn’t hear you. Then she waited, and waited, and limped inward, caved into herself. One day, she... collapsed. As with her Meadow, it rots. She’s always here, my lord."

Lucienne's gaze moved to his throne, then left him to reunite with his lover.

There, at the foot, where his center of the universe resides. He finally realized what happened. Shame had replaced the insecurities that had blinded him.

What little faith he had given her.

Should he be in her place, he was absolute that the same would plague him.

Should he truly expire in that cage, he shuddered to think what would happen to her. To the universe.

The malady of a cosmic essence, a pause in the order.

He climbed the stairs to the throne and found her sitting on her knees, petrified, stone-like. Her forearm was anchored on the armrest of his throne, her head resting on it. Eyes closed. He knew that she pored over the memories of him over and over again inside her. He knew because he would have done the same, he knew because he did the very same thing.

Leaking their hearts out.

Dream sat beside her and took her, then cradled Hope in his arms. He felt the tears clamoring behind his eyes, begging to come out. He observed her precious face. The face he had longed for more than a century. He almost couldn’t bear to look at her in such a state. Her lips slightly curled in downward stiffness. A slight pinch of her eyebrows. Lips pale, cheeks gaunt.

The guilt coiled around his neck. The rage burned inside him, knotted around his chest, almost choking him. A sliver of regret for not complying with Burgess started to lurk.

If he were to free himself sooner, would he spare Hope from this pain? Or would Burgess keep him still as his glorified Genie? Should he have asked her for help? Shed his hubris and called to her?

All Dream could do is whisper to her.

"My Hope of the Endless." He nuzzled his forehead against hers.

"I am here." He could feel the gentle rise and fall of her chest.

"I have returned to you." A twitch of her finger. The flutter of her eyes.

"My Dream of the Endless." She whispered. Weak and quiet. Struggling to lift her finger to graze his cheek.

Upon her touch, his tears fell one by one like gentle rain on her forehead. He kissed her cheek, pressed his lips for a long time, then gazed into her eyes. Abyss ever-consuming. And he’d gladly give himself over to be consumed.

"It was so long. I couldn’t take it." She confessed as her tears traced the sides of her temples.

"I know, my love. Please forgive me." His voice quivered as he wound his fingers between Hope’s, one hand firm around her shoulders.

"I will not let it happen again." He closed the distance between their lips. Coaxing her mouth open. Drinking all her future cries of grief. He felt her seed blooming in his chest, unyielding and everlasting. He felt the rebirth of her dream inside her, gleaming and relentless. Eternal as their devotion to one another.

#morpheus x reader #dream of the endless x reader #sandman x reader #dream x reader #reader is an Endless! #Morpheus is an insecure wet cat! #this is my first sandman fanfic and bitch i might throw up from anxiety

[renaiswriting]

The secrets the moon sees

Pairing: Jeon Wonwoo/Reader

Summary:

Nobody knew Wonwoo aside from his bad family reputation. Nobody knows him the way you do.

Word count: +7.5k words

Warnings: mentions of death, mentions of illegal substances, mentions of prison, mentions of house burning down. (If I missed something, please let me know!)

Author's notes: Please keep in mind that this was made for entertainment purposes only and does not, in any way, represent the people in the story. Enjoy!

Tag list form

Masterlist

Tag list: @phoebe0 @sahhmochi @everyw0nu @darkdayelixer

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You held your books closer to your chest as the strong wind caused by the motorcycles passed right onto you.

 

Your hair moved in all directions. Your lips were pursed into a thin line as you tried your best to swallow a sigh.

 

You glared at the one that passed really close to you, laughing as you jumped because of the sudden noise coming from the motorcycle engine.

 

He smirked in your direction; the motorcycle had stopped, and he was staring in your direction, looking at you from head to toe. He raised his eyebrows in a teasing manner, raising his hand and sending you a flying kiss.

 

You hated him.

 

You hated all of them.

 

There was no use in doing anything. Unfortunately, there were five of them, all men. And you were alone.

 

The smartest decision was probably to just turn around and continue with your life as if nothing had happened.

But God, it was irritating.

 

Why did they have to feel the need to annoy you?

 

Why?

 

You were doing anything to annoy them or to attract his attention.

 

Nor that you wanted to.

 

So why couldn't they just leave you alone?

 

You sighed as you turned around, your knuckles turning white as your hands slowly transformed into two identical punches.

 

The sky was already orange-ish, as the sun was slowly letting the moon make its way to the earth.

 

You had been studying up until that moment; your exams were close, and you just knew that if you didn't put in extra hours, you would be failing them.

 

Your family was probably already waiting for you. Your phone had died, and you couldn't tell what time it was, but the sky and the practically empty school building were clues enough that it was time to go back.

 

You just hoped it wasn't too late because otherwise you would have to deal with your father's nag and punishments, and you were simply in no position to lose your phone at that time.

 

You had everything you needed to study—the important dates and schedule for the whole month—written in your notes.

 

You hoped your phone had at least some percentage of the battery for you to listen to some music on your way home.

 

Walking home alone was not really an issue, but it made you feel slightly... in constant alertness.

 

You took a deep breath, trying to relax your tense shoulders, and decided to simply enjoy the beautiful colors of the sky.

 

There was a soft breeze touching your cheeks with such delicateness that, if you weren't drowning in the multiple exams you had to study for, you would have actually enjoyed it.

 

You noticed, however, when he came closer to you once the breeze turned into a more aggressive wind.

 

"It's pretty late." He was the first one to speak; both of his hands were now resting on the motorcycle handlebar, his body moving so close to it that his chest was barely millimeters away from it.

 

His hair was shorter than the last time you had seen him, and even though you liked how his forehead could now breathe, you allowed yourself to mourn the loss of his long, curly hair for some minutes.

 

He chuckled when he saw your eyes looking a minute too long at his forehead.

 

"You like what you see?" Wonwoo asked.

 

"Yeah. I do." You confessed, biting down the smirk that wanted to escape your mouth so badly when your words hit his brain, his cheeks turning a pale shade of pink, and his eyes moved to the floor with a shy smile on his face.

 

"Oh." He mumbled, still not able to look directly into your eyes.

 

Wonwoo reached for his jean jacket; it was somewhat worn, and the cuffs were stained with what looked like motorcycle grease.

 

Without looking you in the eye, Wonwoo held out his hand, revealing a chocolate bar that he knew was your favorite.

 

"And this?" you asked without hiding the surprise in your voice and the sparkle in your eyes. Your heart was pounding as you saw Wonwoo's shy smile as he watched you open the package with immense happiness on your face.

 

You took a small bite, letting the sweetness of the chocolate sweeten your palate, causing the smile on your face to become even bigger.

 

"I saw it and thought you'd like it." Wonwoo murmured.

 

You pressed the chocolate against his lips, forcing him to open his mouth to take some of the chocolate as well.

 

"But it's for you." Wonwoo protested. You didn't respond; instead, you slammed the chocolate against his teeth. Wonwoo rolled his eyes, but took some of the chocolate and hummed in happiness at the delicious treat.

 

"Thank you; it was just what I was needing."

 

"It's just chocolate." Wonwoo shook his head.

 

Wonwoo shook his head, playing it down.

 

But you were grateful for every little gift or detail Wonwoo had for you.

 

He hadn't bought it because he had to; he had done it because he had wanted to.

 

"I don't have anything to give you back." You muttered, your brow furrowed.

 

"You don't have to give me anything." Wonwoo shook his head, his monolid eyes widening. "It's just chocolate." He repeated.

 

But it wasn't just chocolate.

 

Wonwoo had no money.

 

Not as much as your family.

 

And no matter how much you told him that it wasn't necessary for him to buy you something or that it would be better if you spent it on himself, Wonwoo always showed up with some gift for you.

 

"What are you doing here?" You asked; you were not sure you could let his silence continue for too long before you started feeling self-conscious of it.

 

"Doing some favors for my father, I'm going to Sheuryung's house to see if I can sell him some old junk. What are you doing? It's late."

 

"Studying."

 

Wonwoo nodded, looking over his shoulder, when a loud motorcycle sounded like it was coming in your direction.

 

Wonwoo was two years older than you. And you both had been—whatever this was—for a little too long for you to remember accurately the exact date.

 

Your brother knew him. When he was a kid, he used to go to school with him in the same class.

And as far as you knew, Wonwoo was one of the best in the class.

 

Your brother never really befriended him, and you weren't really sure it wasn't because of Wonwoo's family background.

 

Your family was not classist, or so you thought, but it was true that Wonwoo's family was known for being into heavy stuff.

 

Wonwoo's own older brother and dad were in prison before you and Wonwoo became friends.

 

Wonwoo watched you for a few moments, smiling at your lost gaze on the ground.

His soft laughter brought you back to reality.

 

He was still sitting on the bike, his long legs stretched out on either side of it.

 

His black shirt looked a little too good on him.

 

"Get on." Wonwoo spoke, pointing toward the back of his bike with his chin. "I'll take you home." Wonwoo was wearing a helmet there, but he wasn't wearing one.

 

You'd already lost count of the number of times you'd stressed to him how important it was to wear one.

 

"That you don't have to go sell your junk?" You asked in confusion, but your wrist was caught between the long, slender fingers of Wonwoo, who gently pulled you toward the bike.

 

"Your house is on my way there; I'll just be five minutes."

 

You carefully stowed the chocolate packet in your backpack before slipping behind Wonwoo, your arms wrapping around his prominent waist. "Here." Wonwoo turned around, carefully placing the motorcycle helmet on your head.

 

Beyond protection, it would serve to help you so that, if your family was nearby, they couldn't recognize you as easily.

 

Wonwoo made sure it was properly positioned and that it wouldn't hurt if it was too tight before turning around and starting on his way once more. "Hold on carefully." He warned you.

 

But you had been riding that bike so long, behind him, that the warning was almost in vain, your arms already out of habit wrapped around his waist within seconds of sitting on the bike.

 

His body heat invaded you, and your body moved closer to the heat source by instinct, staying as close to him as possible.

 

His big arms never made any move to move you a bit away from him, so you assumed he didn't care.

 

"Can we go a little slower?" You asked him. Wonwoo wasn't going extremely fast, and that was something you had noticed the first few times you had accepted a ride from him.

 

When he was riding alone, the speed went much higher than when he took you along.

 

But you were going a little faster than you would have liked; you didn't want to get home already. You wanted to be able to enjoy his company a little more.

Wonwoo nodded his head, his hand resting for a few seconds on your leg, almost as if he were asking you if everything was okay.

You sighed.

Wonwoo moved until he was in a meadow near your house, not far away. If you squinted, you were sure you could see the roof of your home.

The motorcycle's engine stopped, and Wonwoo helped you off the bike, carefully pulling the helmet off your head.

 

"What happened?" he asked, frowning. His eyes moved quickly back and forth between your face and body, trying to pick up on whether any injury had occurred on the short ride you had taken.

 

Some dirt had surely left a trace on your cheek, because Wonwoo's fingers took a few seconds to caress the dirt off your face.

 

His face was expressionless, and his eyes were intimidating to anyone who held eye contact with him for more than two seconds.

His hands were a little rough, and his hot breaths were crashing against your neck.

 

The sudden closeness made your throat go dry, and you swallowed dryly as you felt your eyes widen.

 

You didn't need to see your reflection in the small rearview mirrors of the bike to know you were completely red.

 

You dry swallowed all the saliva that had accumulated in your mouth, the glup being clear enough to be resonant even with the noises of the city.

 

Wonwoo didn't look away, his hand still on your cheek and his thumb under your chin, moving your head higher.

 

Your eyes went from his eyes to his thin lips, and you could have sworn you heard his breath shaking.

 

His tongue moved his lips, and your eyes followed the movement until they again connected with his eyes.

 

Wonwoo was staring at you so intently that you felt he was reading your mind and seeing your every little, most private secret.

 

"Are you okay?" Wonwoo asked. His voice sounded deeper than you had ever heard it before. The breeze began to move your hair again, moving until it reached your eyes.

The hand that wasn't on your cheek moved up to your face, catching the lock of hair that was dancing in the open air above your face and leaving it safely behind your left ear. "You look a little more flustered today."

 

You made a sound to reassure him that you were okay, your eyes still on his face.

 

"We're friends, right?" You asked him.

 

Wonwoo frowned, looking away and letting both of his hands fall to either side of his body.

 

His body moved as far away from your personal space as possible, and your body automatically missed the heat coming from it.

 

Even his hands, which were always colder compared to the rest of his body, left a certain warmth on your face. The ghost of his touch was still on your face.

"Of course." Wonwoo replied, his voice sounding slightly more muffled than before. His shoulders were just as tense as his jaw.

Wonwoo looked at the sky and his surroundings, and all you could think about was whether or not you had screwed up.

Wonwoo already had too many problems for you to have to add weight on his already tired shoulders.

Wonwoo was nice.

 

Too nice at times.

 

His reputation and his family's reputation preceded him.

 

You knew that had already alienated many.

 

But you still feared the world would turn its back on Wonwoo.

 

That his journey would cross paths with those of evil intent.

 

You had never met his mother, and of his father, you only knew what little Wonwoo told you.

As ironic as it was, you heard more about his brother, who was locked up in jail, than you did about his mother.

You had seen a picture of his twin sister only once. It was, as far as you knew, the only photo Wonwoo had of her.

 

It had been one of his few possessions that his father had been able to get out of the fire, where they had sadly lost her.

 

She had been an adorable kid, and every time Wonwoo smiled, you could see the tracing of her face in him.

They were identical twins, but it was, in some sort of way, kind of scary how similar they were physically.

 

Wonwoo had been around eleven years old when this happened, and shortly after, his brother went to jail for being found in possession of illegal substances.

 

Wonwoo had mentioned to you that his brother had been released from jail on a few occasions but always, for some reason, returned.

 

According to what your own brother told you, it was around that age that Wonwoo stopped going to school.

 

Or at least the same school as him, because Wonwoo had mentioned to you some memories of his high school studies.

 

Wonwoo frowned once again, staring at you. His lips moved as he called your name again.

 

"Sorry, it seems like I got in my head too much." You apologized, noticing that he had been calling your name a couple of times already.

"It's fine. Are you sure you're okay? You seem too lost in your own thoughts today."

 

"Yes, sorry." You apologized once again. "I guess with all my exams, I'm kind of...you know."

 

Wonwoo shook his head and said, "You'll do fine; you always worry too much, and you always end up passing all your exams and turning in all your papers on time."

 

"Not this time," you denied. "This exam is too hard. I feel like I'm just about to go bald from stress."

 

"Nonsense, you're the smartest person I know; I'm sure I could read any word in the dictionary and you'd know the definition without having to think about it for more than two seconds."

 

You laughed, not finding what I was saying funny: "I regret to inform you that my reputation as an intelligent person ends in a few days."

Wonwoo rolled his eyes as he laughed, not believing you. "Well, if you do poorly on the exam, I guess we can escape the city and go to a nearby town and start a life on the farm together." He joked.

 

"I don't see any other logical option," you shook your head, feigning seriousness, following his joke, "my family would never forgive me for a failed exam." You feigned distress, only to start laughing loudly. Your family was fine with any grade as long as you passed the exam.

But it was the pressure you put on yourself that made you feel bad if you did not get a perfect grade.

 

"Does it really matter, though?" Wonwoo asked after a while, "I mean, you're going to pass it anyway; why does it matter if you get an A or a C?"

 

"I take pride in my grades; I take my studies really seriously."

 

"I know." Wonwoo replied. "But if you have an A+ in everything, getting a C wouldn't change your future that much."

You cross your arms over your chest, trying to hold back the anger that came from feeling that no one understood you. But once again, you couldn't really be mad at him, could you? You were more than aware that the future that he had ahead was not the same as yours.

 

"Let's just go. It's getting late, and my parents are probably starting to get worried."

 

Wonwoo opened his eyes, holding your shoulder for a second before you moved backwards, avoiding his touch.

 

He seemed hurt by it.

 

"I'm sorry if I said something that bothered you. It was not my intention." Wonwoo apologized. You nodded but did not look at him in the eyes.

"Please, just take me home."

 

Wonwoo stared at you for a few instants until he gave up, noticing that you were not in the mood to talk anymore, and the rest of the ten minutes that took him to reach your house were spent in complete silence between the two of you.

 

He stopped his motorcycle in front of your house, hiding it behind the wall of trees that your father proudly took care of for years, getting more than ten trees standing in front of the family house.

 

"(Y/n)—" Wonwoo started once you removed the helmet.

 

"Thank you for the ride." You interrupted him, handing him the helmet and walking back to your house, ignoring the noise of the motorcycle driving away.

You closed the door behind you, and your nose quickly flooded with the aroma of meat ready to be eaten and the famous chocolate cake your mother had prepared for dessert that night.

 

The TV was on, and your brother was sitting comfortably there with his phone in one hand and a can of Coke in the other. His feet were resting on the small table in front of the TV, and his mouth was full of the soda he was drinking.

He paid you no attention as you took off your shoes and headed straight to your room so you could change into more comfortable clothes.

From halfway up the stairs, you could see your father talking to your mother in the hallway near the dining room.

Your room was in complete chaos and reflected exactly the state of mind you were in at that moment.

Your bed was undone, some of your pillows were on the floor, and your clothes were everywhere but in the closet.

You checked your reflection on the mirror near your window, and you almost tore your hair apart because of how bad you looked.

Your dark circles under your eyes were way more obvious than what you had remembered that same morning; your hair was a mess, and your face was red.

So red that it almost felt like you had a pretty bad case of sunburn going on from the neck and up.

You tried to chut down the thousands of thoughts that rushed to display in your mind, deciding to take off your shirt to change it for a new one.

 

You stopped, frozen in your spot, as your nose touched the fabric of your shirt.

 

It smelled like Wonwoo.

 

Like his perfume.

 

You took a deep breath, inhaling as much of it as you could.

You finished taking it out, looking at your reflection once again.

Your cheeks were much redder than before, and your pupils were completely dilated.

Her perfume felt like a drug.

You shook your head, trying to come back to reality, throwing the shirt in the laundry basket and deciding to put on your favorite pajamas.

The table was already completely set when you finished getting ready. Your brother was still texting on his phone while your mother poured the orange juice she liked so much into the four glasses.

"It smells delicious." You smiled at your mother as you sat down next to your father, who gave you a kiss on the temple and messed up your hair.

"How did your studies go, sweetie?" He asked as he handed you a portion of meat on your mother's plate and proceeded to place another on yours.

"Fine," you shrugged, taking a sip of the orange juice. "But I still have more to study."

"I didn't see you when I went to room 4B; I think you'd be studying all day." Your brother asked, raising an eyebrow as he took his first bite of the meat your father had cooked.

 

"I was in the library until they closed the doors and kicked me out."

 

Your brother laughed. "And you still have more to study? Your eyes are going to dry up from reading and reading."

 

"But at least enjoy dinner and dessert before you go back to your studies. Clear your head a bit." Your mother pointed it out, smiling.

 

"Were you able to go visit Uncle Kang?" your father asked your brother, who shook his head in annoyance as if remembering something that had been haunting him for some time.

 

"Can you believe those criminals were taking up the whole road?" Your brother spat out every word as if he were spewing venom out of his mouth. "They almost scratched my whole car, ugh. One went by so fast I thought it would fall on top of the hood."

 

"Again?" Your father frowned, taking a long sip of his drink thoughtfully.

 

"Yes. It was the Lees'; they were probably going to meet with Jeon. Those guys are always into every little thing. I had to rush home before dinner because I had to get robbed. God knows what those desperate people will do for some money."

 

"How do you know if you didn't see him there?" You asked, trying to keep your annoyance as inadvertent as possible.

 

"Because those four are always getting into weird stuff, illegal stuff. All the time. I run into them often. One is worse than the other. Let me start dropping you off and picking you up after your classes; I couldn't think what would happen if my poor little sister had to deal with them." Your brother wailed.

 

"Thanks, but I can take care of myself."

 

"(Y/n) Maybe you should listen to your brother; if he has come across them more times than you, he will surely know what to do in those situations better than you. It's a really dangerous world out there; I already have too much to worry about about one of my children living in another country to have to worry about another one of my children being attacked in the street for not listening to their elders."

 

"But it just doesn't make sense; why are you blaming a person who wasn't even there?"

 

"I know him; believe me, that family is dangerous. Even as a kid, you could see he was going to end up being the criminal he is; all he does is sell junk, but you're not going to tell me that's how they survive; I wouldn't be surprised if he ends up in jail like his brother for selling drugs."

 

"And when was the last time you talked to him?" You asked, already annoyed, "When you were eleven? Please stop going around spreading disinformation."

 

"Why are you taking this subject so personally?" Your brother looked at you incredulously, laughing at your sudden surge of anger. "It almost looks like I said your favorite childhood stuffed animal is horrible or something. Go get some fresh air; you'll get a nosebleed from high blood pressure."

 

Your parents were given it, and you could only emit a fake smile. The last thing you would want to do is keep trying to defend Wonwoo.

The rest of dinner went by too quickly, and before you knew it, you were alone in your room, sitting at your desk with your computer on, working on a job that you were clearly too tired to understand.

The cup of coffee you had made yourself a while ago had already cooled, and your glasses were on the desk.

The twenty different sheets of paper were scattered everywhere, and there were three different books open on different pages at random.

You were already on the verge of tears, because if you couldn't answer those simple questions, how could you solve an exam?

Your phone vibrated next to your computer, and your phone screen lit up, revealing the notification of three separate messages from Wonwoo.

 

You hadn't ignored it, but you hadn't realized that he had texted you almost forty minutes ago already.

Wonwoo: You there? 22:48

Wonwoo: ? 22:59

Wonwoo: I guess you're sleeping, good night. 23:32

It was not unusual for Wonwoo to write to you at that hour; most of his conversations occurred at night when you knew no one could appear over your shoulder and read the texts.

It had become almost customary to delete all conversations before you went to sleep, but your heart beat fast every time a new text was received.

Like the first time, he asked for your phone number and sent you a text.

Me: Sorry, i'm still studying 23:47

You didn't even get to lock the phone before his reply made your phone turn its screen on again.

Wonwoo: it's late. 23:47

Wonwoo: Go to sleep. 23:48

You: I can't sleep. 23:54

Wonwoo: Me neither. 23:56

Wonwoo: My mind keep coming back to you. 23:57

Wonwoo: I'm sorry for upsetting you earlier today.

Wonwoo: I didn't thought how my words might have come off to you.

You: it's okay.

You: i was still pretty stressed from all my exams, so I'm sorry too

You: why aren't you sleeping? 00:09

Wonwoo: I've got a lot on my mind. 00:12

Wonwoo: Are you going to be up studying all night? 00:13

You: that was the plan 00:17

You: but my brain just cannot concentrate 00:18

Wonwoo: Do you want to meet up? 00:20

You: now? 00:22

Wonwoo: If you want to. 00:23

The idea was tempting; you would rather spend a thousand times the night circling Wonwoo's tiny waist as they moved through the deserted streets under the starry night than sit alone in your room crying because your brain couldn't memorize three words in a row.

A smile came across your face, and you felt the need to put your phone down on your desk for a second so you could think clearly.

 

Your reflection was looking at you from across the room, and you ignored the goofy expression on your face.

 

Like a little girl, when your first crush ever gave you a flower or held your hand for the first time,

You opened the door to your room carefully, sticking your head out through the small peephole you had opened to take a little peek at the water.

 

Your brother's door, at the end of the hallway, was closed all the way, but some light could be seen from underneath it.

 

You sharpened your hearing as much as possible, and a melody or two could be heard.

 

He was listening to music.

 

Your parents' room was upstairs, and as far as you could see, they were in complete silence and darkness.

 

The fact that your brother was awake listening to music was good because the same melody could surely cover the noise of the front door opening and closing.

 

But on the other hand, if he were awake, he could come to check on how your studies were going.

The best option would be to turn off the lights and put your pillow and clothes on the bed to pretend you were sleeping.

 

You stepped out into the hallway cautiously, mentally insulting yourself as the door to your room closed behind you with a small tsk.

 

You stood motionless in the hallway, waiting for your brother to come out of his room to see what the noise had been, but he continued in his room undeterred.

 

Almost on tiptoe, you made your way to the third floor of the house, stopping at the door of your parents' room and leaning your right ear against it.

 

Only your father's snoring could be heard.

 

They were asleep.

You rush off to find the jeans you felt you looked taller in, and that jacket Wonwoo had once mentioned he liked the way it looked.

 

You: Can you come get me? 00:27

 

The truth is that your creation in the bed of a fake you left you quite pleased. With the lights off, it looked as if you were watching yourself sleep.

You closed the front door as quietly as you could, running quickly to where Wonwoo was waiting for you on his motorcycle.

Your hair swayed on your back with every step you took.

Wonwoo had parked his bike close to your house, but not too close for its noise to be obvious.

"Hello," Wonwoo greeted you, a small smile on his face as his eyes traveled from your eyes to the jacket you had purposely put on.

Wonwoo was wearing black pants and a jacket of the same color. He had glasses that had seen better days on his face.

Wonwoo needed glasses, but you only remembered seeing him wear them when no one else was around.

His hair looked like it was fresh from the shower, and when you got closer to him, the scent of his perfume washed over you almost instantly.

"Hello." You said back to him. Zipping up your jacket and making sure your house keys were safely in your pocket before sitting behind him in your designated spot

 

Wonwoo carefully placed the safety helmet on your face, making sure that it wouldn't bother you before turning around.

 

"Do you know where we're going?" You asked him, though you didn't really care what the answer would be.

"No," he answered you, "I just wanted to ride the bike around until I found somewhere to rest a bit."

 

And with that, Wonwoo started the engine, and slowly his journey into the empty streets began.

 

His back was pressed against your chest, while your hands held tightly to your jacket.

 

You just hoped he wasn't feeling the pounding of your heart beating against his back.

 

It would be too embarrassing if he was feeling it.

You could feel your fingers starting to freeze in the cold breeze and could only wonder how Wonwoo could drive when his fingers were always so much colder than yours.

Your eyes closed for a few moments, feeling free of all frustrations and obligations. It was as if every single thing that caused you any sort of frustration was getting away from you as the bike sped off into the night.

You sighed, looking at those people who were walking on the dark sidewalks.

Wonwoo made a couple of turns and turned one last time before stopping in a park that looked completely deserted.

Wonwoo stopped near a small kiosk, sitting there, his back leaning against the cement wall behind him.

You followed him, sitting with your knees drawn up to your chest, looking at your surroundings.

"Were you able to finish studying?" Wonwoo asked.

 

"No," you said, shaking your head. "I wanted to stay up late studying, but..." you clicked your tongue, your head cocking a little to the left. It was an obvious frustration.

 

"I hope I wasn't the reason your studies were interrupted."

"Oh, no," you assured him. "I was getting frustrated with myself; I guess my brain had reached its limit for the day, and I just didn't want to accept it. I could use your message; I needed to clear my head a bit."

 

Wonwoo smiled at you, playing with his own fingers. "I'm glad I was able to help in some way." Wonwoo took a deep breath before raising his eyes from his fingers to your face for a brief second. "I wanted to apologize again. I'm sorry for upsetting you today."

"I know I already apologized to you over text, but I wanted to do it in person as well; I wanted to make sure we were alright."

 

"We are." You replied to him, not really liking the way he was frowning or the way his voice didn't sound so sure.

 

"Alright." Wonwoo breathed, nodding. His features seemed more relaxed now that you both had talked it out.

 

"How did the junk stuff go?" You asked him, "Did you make some money?"

 

"Well, no, really. I sold some, but most of it just went back home with me again. I'll have to try luck again tomorrow. Jihoon told me about an old dude who usually buys lots of his own family stuff, so it might help."

 

"Speaking of your friend, today they attacked my brother." You mentioned cleaning your throat. Suddenly, you did not want to make eye contact with him.

"Attacked your brother?" Wonwoo asked in confusion, "When?"

 

"He told me they were on the road today; they almost scratched his whole car."

 

"But today they were at my house all day. They helped my mom to clean the garden and fix some old cars to see if they could be sold."

 

You frowned, not knowing who you should believe.

 

"But still, this is not the first time my brother mentioned them getting on his way; could you talk to them so they can just leave him alone, please? I just don't want them to keep fighting."

 

"I'll talk with them," Wonwoo agreed, "but just so you know, your brother is usually the one who's on my and my friends' asses; he's hanging out with people I don't recommend hanging out with. Dangerous people. I don't know if you're aware of it; probably not, but I'm telling you this just so you know."

 

"What do you mean? What's he's on?"

 

"Well, he started buying stuff from Jihoon, like, you know, stuff. But they started buying big amounts, so Jihoon retracted and didn't want to sell any more. So that's when the fights started; your brother started hanging out with others who were on much heavier stuff."

 

"No, I think you have mistaken him for someone else; my brother doesn't do drugs."

"It's up to you to believe what you want to believe; I'm just telling you that I saw it with my own eyes, buying it from Jihoon."

 

"And why do you let your friends sell those things?"

 

"What Jihoon does is his business; I can only take responsibility for my own decisions and actions. I do not consume, nor do I sell. If Jihoon, your brother, or anyone else wants to buy it, it's on them."

"But if you're so sure he's not the type of person to do that, maybe you're right." He told you, "Maybe he bought it for someone else instead; who knows?"

 

"Yeah," you mumbled, "that sounds more like him." You agreed. "Let's just talk about something else. Please."

 

"Like what?"

"I don't know; tell me something."

 

"What do you mean?" Wonwoo asked, his back leaning against the cold wall. His legs stretched out on the floor were almost twice as long as yours.

Wonwoo had his eyes closed, and his breathing sounded soft and slow.

 

"What's your favorite movie?" you decided to ask; it was a simple enough question to distract both of you.

 

"Titanic," Wonwoo answered after thinking about it for a few moments.

 

"Titanic?" you repeated in surprise. "I thought you were going to say Marvel." You laughed. Wonwoo laughed too, his eyes looking up at the moon that was shining beautifully that night.

 

"I never saw Marvel. I don't quite understand them." Wonwoo scoffed at himself. And hearing your voice say that you would never have taken him for a guy who would enjoy romance movies, he replied, "It was my mom and Woohee's favorite movie."

 

And somehow, it made sense.

 

"The stars are beautiful tonight." You mumbled.

 

"Yeah," Wonwoo whispered, his face lifting to see the stars, his glasses almost falling out of his face in the process.

 

"Do you know any constellations?" You asked him, taking a few seconds to glance at his face before focusing on the shining star above you.

 

"I know that's Leo the Lion," he pointed out at a backward question mark shape you could see in the sky. "And that's Cassiopeia."

 

You chuckled at the shape of it. "W as in Wonwoo."

 

He chuckled. "It can also be an M."

 

You both stayed like that for some time. "When I was a kid, I used to think that each star had its own secret. And everybody had their own star. I always tried to find out which one was my sister."

Your hand found him without needing to lock at it, and your fingers easily interlocked with his. "And did you find it?" Wonwoo shook his head, his eyes still on the sky, but his thin lips were now in a thin line. "Well, if you want my opinion, I think your sister's that star." You pointed out the shiniest star you could find in the sky.

 

"When everything happened, I wanted to become an astronaut. Because my mom always told me and Woohee that once we're done with this life, we all become stars in the sky. But," Wonwoo chuckled, "life happened, and I kind of found out that's not what actually happens."

 

"Oh, c'mon, how can you be so sure about what happens once we die? Who knows, we might end up becoming stars—what? What do you think happens when we die?"

 

"Nothing." Wonwoo replied as if it were the most obvious thing in the whole world. "Nothing happens; it's just game over. Everything turns black, and then you're gone."

 

"So you think that happened with your sister?" You asked. And the question actually made him think for some time.

 

"No," he eventually replied, "that could never be her end; she deserves to be that pretty star."

"And what do you think your star is?" You asked him to get a little distracted. Every time he remembered his sister, it seemed like a part of him shut down, and while you knew it was necessary for him to be able to make that transition so he could feel better, you didn't want to make him spend the rest of the night having a hard time asking about her.

 

"I never thought about it; I guess that one's okay." He replied, pointing to a star that was barely visible.

 

"Nonsense. Yours has to be that one," I argued, pointing to one that was in the direction of your house, which shone brightest among a whole circle of less visible stars surrounding it.

 

"Then yours has to be that one next to it, the pretty one." He beamed in seconds, smirking when you ran out of words to add. He raised his right eyebrow when your eyes met for a brief second before you quickly looked away. "Cat got your tongue?" He teased.

"No, I just wouldn't have believed that of all the stars, you would choose that one. Won't you have to know what my favorite constellation is?" You stuck your tongue out at him, trying to change the subject.

 

"You don't even know the names of the constellations; how would you have one?" He replied with a chuckle. His breath was beating directly against your ear. You hadn't noticed in what instant he had come so close; the realization made you startle. "So use that pretty mouth of yours and tell me what it was that made you so shy."

 

It was an addition to moments like these when Wonwoo would get so... bold. You loved the moments where his shyness got the better of him, and you were the one who made him blush for looking into his eyes for more than two seconds.

 

It was unbelievable.

 

The power it felt to know that your presence alone was enough to make him so flustered

 

But when he would experience the opposite, when he would take the reins and turn the game around, it was inexplicable how it made you feel.

 

It brought out a shyness that you don't usually have with other people.

 

You wanted to hide in his chest or his neck. You wanted to hide anywhere because your face would simply turn into a tomato and the ease of speech would simply disappear.

 

It was more than obvious that you were nervous.

 

It was more than obvious that you enjoyed every second of it.

 

And what you feared most—your feelings for him—were all too visible.

 

"Who would have thought that the Jeon Wonwoo would call me, of everybody, pretty? A dream come true." You tried to joke around, making the sudden tension between you both dissipate.

 

You were most likely the one who felt it anyway.

Wonwoo rolled his eyes, "as if it were necessary for me to say it."

 

You raised an eyebrow. "I don't know what you want from me, Jeon, but you're not going to get it." You joked again.

 

"Damn, and I was looking forward to that new car." Wonwoo clicked his tongue, feigning disappointment.

 

They both laughed loudly, their laughter filling the silence of the quiet night.

 

"Do you mind if I rest my head on your legs?" Wonwoo shook his head, telling you to go ahead, so carefully to not hurt him, you laid your head in his tights. From there, the sky above you felt like it was the only thing in the whole world.

 

Wonwoo's fingers started playing with your hair, softly massaging your scalp.

 

"That feels nice." You mumbled, closing your eyes for a second. Wonwoo hummed, continuing.

His hands stopped playing with your hair and started tracing the bridge of your nose and the outline of your lips.

 

Your eyes widened, only to find his eyes staring at you with an intensity that seemed to be trying to convey a message mentally.

 

"Oh, uh... Wonwoo?"

 

Wonwoo responded with a "mmm?" His eyes still roamed over every millimeter of your face, his hand holding your cheek with such delicacy that it made you feel as if you were made of glass.

 

You remained silent, not quite understanding what it was you wanted to say to him.

 

He brought his face close to yours, his breathing colliding with yours.

 

You could feel your ears throbbing and your throat suddenly dry.

 

His eyes were closed, and you felt yourself imitating him as your faces came closer and closer, leaving less and less space between you.

 

His warmth invaded you like a blanket that wanted to embrace you and never let go.

 

Your phone began to ring noisily.

 

Your heart, which already seemed to be beating at full capacity, felt like it was breaking its own record.

 

Your cheeks were flushed, realizing what had almost happened.

 

"Hello?" You asked in a shaky voice, clearing your throat. It felt so dry that you could drink a bottle of water in seconds.

 

"Where the fuck are you? I went to your room, and you weren't there!" your brother asked angrily. He spoke in whispers that slowly seemed to turn into screams.

 

"Are mom and dad awake?"

 

"No. I had the decency not to wake them. I want you to come home now. Or I'll have to wake them up, and we both know what awaits you if they ever find out you left the house at night without their permission."

 

Your brother hung up the call before you had time to answer, and you sat on the floor for a few moments staring at the screen of your phone while you processed what had happened.

"I've been wanting to tell you something—" Wonwoo started, but was quickly interrupted.

"I'm sorry, Wonwoo, but I've got to go home now."

 

Wonwoo looked at you before nodding and making his way to his motorcycle.

 

This time, you didn't bother to ask him to go slower.

 

You were scared that, by the time you made it home, your whole family would be up.

 

When you finally put your feet down, your brother was walking from the front door angrily.

 

"Where on Earth did you take her?" Your brother asked him. Wonwoo, sensing your brother's anger, decided to stand up in front of you. "Oh, what are you now? A guardian dog in your free time to gain extra money? Leave my sister alone. I don't know what you have to tell her to make her believe you're a good guy, but stop your games now. Leave. Her. Alone." He started pushing Wonwoo backwards, not really caring that you were behind him.

 

"Stop it." You told your brother, moving from behind Wonwoo's back. "I'm not a kid anymore; I can make my own decisions." You faced your brother. "And more surely, I can protect myself. He did nothing."

 

"Go inside the house. We're on for a really long night; we have to talk." Your brother told you before taking a last glance at Wonwoo and walking inside the house.

 

You looked at Wonwoo, feeling bad for what your brother had said.

 

You wanted to apologize.

 

To tell him that you were not like him.

 

To tell him that you thought highly of him.

 

And if you could, you would give him the world.

 

"I should go." You said instead.

"Yeah, you should." Wonwoo agreed, taking a last glance at you before jumping on the motorcycle.

#seventeen #seventeen fanfic #seventeen fanfics #seventeen fic #svt au #seventeen au #seventeen imagines #svt fanfic #svt reacts #seventeen x y/n #seventeen x oc #seventeen x you #seventeen x reader #svt x oc #svt x y/n #svt x you #svt x reader #jeon wonwoo x reader #jeon wonwoo x you #jeon wonwoo x y/n #wonwoo scenarios #wonwoo fanfic #wonwoo x reader #wonwoo x y/n #wonwoo x you #wonwoo x oc #wonwoo fluff #wonwoo drabble #wonwoo au #wonwoo angst

[margumis]

syzygy

gn! reader x megumi fushiguro / established relationship / sun moon dynamic / pure fluff

inspired by this request from @yeahneh

syzygy: a conjunction or opposition, especially of the moon with the sun

the sun and the moon have always been known as lovers. the people of the amazon told a story of the two celestial bodies, bound to love each other from a distance. the krachi of west africa knew them as the couple that birthed the stars. and maybe, if those people were around today, they could tell you that the sun and moon were reborn, giving a physical body to their otherworldly spirits. and they could scour the earth for those two gravity bound souls, search every canyon and ocean for the people who they found fit the bill to reunite them. but they should be assured because the sun and the moon found one another under the treetops of tokyo.

in this rendition, they weren't going to fall out of love, or be eternally separated only to meet during an eclipse. at least you hoped, there was never any certainty behind human love, especially in a world filled with curses and horrors, a world where either of you could fall out of orbit and rejoin the heavens up above.

you think that's what makes you cherish moments like these more, more than you would if your life wasn't on the line on a daily basis at least.

something about him made you believe he really was the personification of the moon. maybe it was the way words fell from his mouth with more ease at two in the morning. the way his black hair fell into his face, creating a faux impression of a waning gibbous.

“why did you fall in love with me?” the shadows of bedroom curtains cast across his face. his question isn't hard for you to answer, you've always felt drawn to him, like you were fitting pieces of a puzzle, like he was meant to orbit you.

"I guess it came to me naturally, you've sort of always felt like a completion of me" a sleepy grin spread across your face as you whispered your confession to him. and like a small sliver carved from the moon, his smile spread and made you feel like it was chasing away every shadow in the room. he pulled you in tighter that night, ear pressed against his t-shirt clad chest, lulled to sleep by the gentle and slow thrum of his heartbeat.

sometimes the two of you made time for day-trips down to the coast, strolling the beach at the sun's final hours. you were both walking that sacred edge between the sea and the shore, salty water lapping at your bare feet and sand tickling your toes. the water always seemed drawn to him, a noticeable high tide no matter what time the two of you sought out the ocean. the salty breeze filled your senses, blowing through your hair and carrying the seabirds on its back.

you waded deeper into the water, soaking through the majority of the bottoms you were wearing, motioning to megumi with your hands and a smile plastered to your face. he always found that the water was warmer when he was with you.

"your eyes look like this", in front of you your hands were forming a frame where the heavens met the flooded earth. he brought his head over your shoulder, looking through the frame.

"the way you talk about me, it makes me feel good" the red flushing his cheeks and tinting his ears contrasted the blacks and blues of his hair and eyes. "that's how it's supposed to be, isn't it?" you questioned teasingly before placing a firm but soft kiss to his lips.

you had this way about you, it made him melt into some malleable gooey thing. it made his chest warm and his thoughts of the future bright, it returned every stolen moment of joy tenfold. and your warmth seeped into him, scared away the darkness that built shelter in his bones. everything was easier with you, you acted like a guiding light. he knows he would follow you into the darkest depths, because you were light and he couldn't look away.

"you know your eyes, they kinda look like this" he created some grand motion with his arms gesturing to your surroundings. before you could express your confusion he finished his statement.

"like everything good in the world"

when he finished his statement, he turned back to you with a soft expression. and there you were, shining so brightly, outshining the setting sun behind you; and all he can think is how he would willingly orbit you forever.

he knew that a while ago, that he would chase in your gravitational path. it was hard for him to place the moment exactly because he could probably recall hundreds where he had felt this way.

was it the first time you two met back in highschool? or was it the countless times he watched you prioritize an animal or child's safety before your own. it could've been that time he was sat across from you in a cafe, he caught himself watching how sunbeams refracted in your eyes.

it didn't matter really, you were here with him now, the light still as bright as ever in your eyes. you were picking up seashells now, he liked the way the sun passed through your hair, the way even the last few rays of sun clung to you. he truly couldn't help but stare; even his eyes being pulled in by your gravity.

you waded your way through the water back to him, dropping a few small white seashells into his hand like sacred treasures, talking about a hermit crab shell you had seen but didn't want to disturb. you were smiling up at him like a child proud of their findings, and he was looking down at you like you created the stars yourself.

but if both of you had looked up, you would've seen that brief moment where both the sun and the moon hang in the sky. the sun saying its hello's and goodbyes to the moon as it took it's shift. and maybe if you had the ear for planets and stars, you would hear them fondly whispering over the two of you, both of them smiling down on you hoping that was them in another life.

#megumi fushiguro #jjk megumi #jujutsu kaisen megumi #fushiguro megumi #megumi fluff #sun and moon dynamic #megumi x reader #gon you are light scene reference. #because that is the epidemy of this dynamic

[stories4thepack]

Omg, something about Carol always being warm because of her powers and vampire R always cold because of the undead, perfect match 😍

The three times hot and cold clashed:

“We couldn’t fucking stop it.”

Carol shouts. Monica, Kamala and you stand silently aliens the room. Watching as your girlfriend paces helplessly in the field you had crash landed in

“Carol it’s alright.”

“No it’s not. “

Carol shouts, making Monica fall suddenly silent. You can see the blonde’s fists beginning to glow as she speaks to the others, and you know full well she’s in the verge of loosing control.

“Listen, we have time to revere this and prevent her from stealing earths sun.”

You say, stepping forward with your arms raised as you attempt to calm her.

“WHAT IF WE DON’T, SHE IS STRONGER THAN I ORIGINALLY THOUGHT AND IF I FAIL AGAIN”

Her body bursts with that solar light making Kamala and Monica stumble backwards, but you leap forward, pulling Carol into a tight hug. You hear her gasp, startled, but she slowly wraps her arms around you, allowing your freezing frame to calm her. Letting the light fade away once more.

“That- That was something.”

Monica mutters as Kamala’s grin grows when Carol lets her head fall onto your shoulder.

——————————————————————

”Alright then, are you sure about this Y/n?”

Carol asked. You both were stood on a moon far away from Earth, with a phone places up against a rock to record the event for Kamala back home.

“So ready Captain”

You grin, throwing a thumbs up at the camera knowing full well Kamala will be jumping out of the couch for this.

“Alright”

Carol smiles, her hands glowing in that same, glorious way that never failed to catch you in a trance.

“Start small?”

You ask, receiving a determined nod in return. You slip easily into your defensive stance, focusing on the emptiness where your heart should be beating.

You feel your instincts to take over, eyes burning red as you hand moves impossibly fast from your side to catch one of carols solar blasts. You watch the light twirling between your fingers, licking at your skin like golden flames.

“I’ll be honest, I thought I was gonna throw you across the planet”

Carol beams, making you chuckle, throwing the light into the stone ground, feeling the pebbles flick up at your ankles.

“Again.”

You growl, Carol punches the air In front if her, sending a second polars in your direction you catch it with ease, this time throwing it suddenly back the way it came. Carol barley dodges the attack by rolling into her knees sending a beam of light over at you. It hits you square in the chest, making you stumble backwards, but you dig your heal into the ground, countering the burning blast with your own undead coldness, tearing the attack apart in a flash of blue before it could actually damage you.

Carol watches shocked, before you use your inhuman speed to appear in front if her. Tackling her to the ground, laughing at her surprised expression.

”I think I’m good.”

You whisper, placing you hands firmly on her shoulders to prevent her from getting up. She smiles, grasping the back of your head and bringing you into a kiss. Letting her hands wander up your chest, as your lips before against hers. She pulls away, kissing gently up your neck to your jaw until she reaches your ear

“are you sure about that?”

She whispers, before sending a blast into your chest. Throwing you across the planet, crashing roughly into the hard ground. Sand and stones fly up around where you land, a small crater looming around you. You watch as Carol appears above you, looking both concerned and as if she’s trying not to laugh. You point at her, sounding as stern as possible:

“EDIT THAT OUT!”

——————————————————————

Carol could feel the tears sliding down her burning cheeks before she had properly adjusted to her surroundings. Sweat flowed from her forehead as she ran her fingers through her hair, heart pounding painfully against her ribs. Every night she has one of these nightmares and yet, they never cease to scare her senseless.

“Carol?”

You mutter, shuffling closer to where you had crouched by the woman. You can hear her gasps for air as she hides her face behind her hands. Her body shook as if she was cold, but you could feel the heat radiating off her and it didn’t help that she practically had the power of a burning star boiling through her veins.

“Y/n”

“Hey, I’m here. I’m right here.”

You whisper. At first, it was strange to see her like this, weak, scared, vulnerable. But now, it brought a throbbing sense of sorrow to your undead heart because you knew, behind her stoic and strong demeanour, that she was a broken, fearful mess.

“May I touch you?”

You ask softly, pulling the sobbing woman into your arms as she nods. You sink into her bed, allowing Carol to curl into your chest, her hand clutching the fabric of your shirt.

“It’s alright, I promise.”

You hum, tracing small circles along her spine.

“You’re so cold.”

She says, hiding her face in the crook of your neck

“Sorry.”

“No. M’like it.”

She says, snuggling impossibly closer. You can feel the rapidly beating of her heart calming down as her body cools, her breath fading into soft snores.

#fanfiction #requests #carol danvers x reader #carol danvers x y/n #carol danvers #monica rambeau #kamala khan #Avengers #captain marvel #The Marvels #maria rambeau #Carol Danvers x vampire reader #Vampire #vampire reader #vampire y/n

[ithaquakisser]

Salvatore

Synopsis; You and Ithaqua have come to an agreement. In turn, you are to be the cure to his everlasting solitude.

CW; Explicit themes, obsession, unhealthy relationship, degradation, vague religious imagery

MINORS DNI. (18+)

WC; ≈2.4K

Note; I've been meaning to experiment with a completely different take on Ithaqua, so I decided to mess around with my take on Morningstar. I have not written NSFW in eons, so spare me! Most of this was written at like... 3AM with no proper proofreading whatsoever. So, in another words—not my proudest work yet! This piece also doesn't quite have a plot either, I just wrote whatever came to mind. Enjoy! 🙈 (I'm so embarrassed.)

You were the sun, his sun. The sun who orbits around the Earth, breathing life into those around you. You brought about warmth with your light. If he could, he would bask in your presence from dusk till dawn. You had never seen the moon, or its stars, nor the night. Yet you heard its voice once or twice through the roaring winds.

He yearned to preserve your light. Claim it as his own. How he longed to maintain it for his own wants. Your beaming smile, your eyes that glistened like the stars, your soft h/c locks that waltzed with the wind. Without you, the moon could not shine without your light. Without you, could he ever beam again?

Faint rays of moonlight illuminated the dim candlelit room. You rested upon a king-sized bed, the cool breeze brushing against your naked body. Your hands lie above your head, cold slender hands interlaced with yours. He traced constellations onto your bare skin. His hips straddled on top of yours, his cloak discarded onto the marble floor. Ithaqua drew the stars upon your waist, soft lips brushing against your neck. He was desperate, his actions expressed his longing for your touch.

Words were unspoken between the two of you, a contract unknown. Shall you be spared under all circumstances, and in turn, you become the cure to his eternal solitude. Godlike he was, each touch was a blessing. You were a mere sinner under his presence, and here you lie before him, confessing your sins. Letting all your secrets spill from each breath you take, he is who shall listen. He is who shall cleanse you of your sins. He who is your salvatore.

His warm tongue ran along your neck, sending shivers down your spine. He grazed his teeth upon your soft skin, his hot breath was enough to make you melt under his touch. “Relax, dear.” Ithaqua cooed, trailing his hand down to your pelvis. You couldn’t help but buck your hips up in anticipation, letting out a sharp exhale. “Needy are you, love?”

He pulled away from your neck and pressed his lips against yours, emitting a low moan as a hand began to rub your thigh gently. He mercilessly bit your lip, causing you to yelp in surprise. The hunter smiled into the kiss as he forced his way through your mouth. He softly stroked your plush thighs, occasionally squeezing them. His tongue explored your wet cavern whilst you held onto his hand, his free hand outlining the stars on your inner thigh. You whined, your hips squirming beneath him in desperation.

The young male pulled away, a thin trail of saliva connecting the two of you. “Is there something wrong, love?” Ithaqua whispered. “Don’t you tease me any longer…” You protested, Ithaqua couldn’t help but let out a chuckle in response. “Patience, Y/N.” He sighed and placed a hand on your bare chest, pressing you down against the mattress. His golden necklace dangling from his chest, hovering over you as his eyes fixed on yours.

“You think I’d willingly satisfy you without earning it? Don’t make me laugh, love.” Ithaqua rebuked. “How’s this? Please me first. If you do a good job, I’ll fuck you to your heart’s content. Sounds good?” He spoke, his lips curling into a smirk. You nodded your head eagerly. With a complacent expression, the two of you proceeded to switch positions. He laid back onto the array of pillows by the bedframe, his legs spread wide open. “Well? What’re you waiting for? You know what to do.”

“Talk about patience…” You muttered under your breath. “What’s that, darling?” Instigated the hunter as he leisurely removed his mask, his ebony-colored eyes meeting yours. “Nothing, dear…” You uttered as you lowered your gaze from his. With a scowl, he grabbed hold of your face, forcing you to look at him. “Don’t you forget who is in control here. I can delightfully revoke my conditions anytime. I wouldn’t be opposed to watching you squirm in desperation in hopes I’d touch you while I pleasure myself. Now, obey my orders won’t you?”

You swallowed before speaking breathily. “Yes, sir…” With a satisfied smile, he let you go. Without another word; you loosened his garters and unbuttoned his pants. He emitted a sigh of relief once his cock was freed from the confines of his pants, twitching upon release as droplets of precum dripped down the shaft. You spat onto your palm before taking him into your hands, beginning to pump him up and down.

The hunter threw his head back with a breathy moan as you stroked his dick, occasionally rubbing your thumb against his tip and causing him to twitch in response. You picked up the pace over time, observing his facial expressions as his chest heaved. You observed how desperately he attempted to restrain his moans behind the heavy breaths taken. His eyes were half-lidded as he huffed, his lips slightly parted as his face was tinted with a scarlet hue.

Ithaqua has never felt this way before. Such pleasure, such desire, a fire ignited within him the moment you laid your hands on him. He gazed upon your naked body as you eagerly stroked his cock with such a lustful expression on your face. You observed how his Adam’s apple bobbed up and down, how his hands clasped the bedsheets and the way his thighs threatened to clamp shut on you as they trembled under your touch. You brought your lips close and ran your tongue alongside his shaft, causing him to shudder in response.

Ithaqua took hold of your h/c locks into his trembling hands as you took him into your warm mouth. You swirled your tongue upon his tip, tasting the bitterness in his precum as he twitched inside your mouth. You were relatively slow with your pace, causing the hunter to buck his hips up out of impatience. Caught off-guard, you gagged for a brief moment. “Don’t be a tease,” Ithaqua spoke, tightening his grip on your hair.

He began to thrust into your mouth slowly as he held onto you. You were taken aback by his sudden movements, groaning onto his cock as he screwed your mouth. You gripped his thighs, lightly squeezing them as tears formed at the corners of your eyes. “Hah… You’re taking me so well, dear…” Ithaqua cooed. His light eyes fixed on your every expression as he thrusts into you, his dick brutally assaulting the back of your throat.

“I’m close…” He whispered between breaths, his thrusts becoming sloppier by the second. Within moments, he reached his high and released his hot seed into your mouth. He threw his head back with a rather loud moan, his eyes practically rolling to the back of his skull as you proceeded to pull away. Cum dripping from the corners of your mouth, the young man raised his head and tenderly wiped the droplets dripping down your chin with the pad of his thumb.

“Swallow all of it,” Ithaqua demanded, pressing his thumb against your lower lip. Reluctantly, you swallowed the bitter liquid and licked away the excess from his thumb. “You did so well for me, love…” He purred as he gently wiped away the tears forming at the corners of your eyes.

Half-lidded almond eyes met yours, his lips curling into a cheeky grin as he palmed your chest. With a quick and sudden push, he pinned you down against the cushioned mattress like a predator catching its prey. You had let out a squeak upon impact whilst he hovered over you, a slender finger placed over your lips as he hushed you. You swallowed anxiously, a hand running down your bare waist as he carefully observed your expressions.

Oh, how he adored your expressions. The lovely face you’d make whenever he’d caress your bare skin. He adored your smile, and how the corners of your eyes wrinkled out of pure joy. He especially admired the look on your face when you’d beg on your knees for mercy as he readied his axe to strike. The way your e/c eyes widened in apprehension never ceased to send shivers down his spine and make him weak in the knees.

Loose strands of his silver hair tickled your ruby-tinted cheeks as he planted his lips against yours, prodding his tongue past your lips into your mouth. You elicited a moan as his tongue danced with yours, his icy hands trailing down your body. They traced miscellaneous symbols as he ravaged your mouth. His fingertips stopped at your sex, lightly brushing against it and causing you to shudder.

He pulled away from the kiss, his light-colored eyes meeting yours. “May I?” “Yes… Please.” Without another word, he inserted his fingers delicately into your heat. He was rather careful with his touch, being mindful of his sharp nails as he slowly rubbed your sensitive spot. You had let out a breathy moan, watching as he moved his fingers in and out of you with such precision.

Ithaqua was quite deft with his fingers, moving them at a steady pace whilst stroking your soft spot. You observed him, unnoticeably moving your hips as he stroked. “My, eager, aren’t you?” Ithaqua remarked. “Don’t be such a tease…” He could only chuckle in response, his eyes fixed on your sex as he pumped his fingers into your core.

Your breathing became labored as he continued to assault your sweet spot, uttering words of praise in between moans. You breathily spoke his name like an incantation, your hands clutching the bed sheets in ecstasy. “Look at you… You’re such a mess already…” He teased, witnessing your face flush a shade of crimson.

With a smirk, he curled his fingers and ruthlessly began to pump them inside of you at a brisk pace. You tensed around his fingers, becoming a moaning mess beneath him. Huffing and puffing upon his touch, you called out his name like a broken record. You gazed upon him with tears forming at the corners of your eyes. “Ithaqua… I’m…”

“Hold it,” Ithaqua demanded. “You can do that, can you not?” “Ithaqua… I… Please…” “Please what?” “Please… Let me come…” You pleaded, his eyes fixed on yours as he continued to strike at your sensitive spot. “Please, Ithaqua… just let me…” You bucked your hips forward, a complete mess you were.

You harshly bit down on your lower lip as your back arched slightly. The hunter purposely slowed his pace, occasionally coming to a halt with a sadistic grin on his face. You had let out a groan of desperation, hot tears streaming down your flushed face. With his opposite hand, he shoved his thumb into your mouth, his thumb lightly brushing against your warm tongue as you panted. You looked at him with half-lidded eyes as your chest began to heave, moaning into his hand as he ravaged your insides.

The young man had a grin on his face as you began to tremble beneath him, your walls tensing around his fingers. “Mmh…” You whimpered, as you began to feel a tight coil building up in your stomach. Your thighs trembling as you closed your eyes as you thrust your hips into his fingers, arching your back as the coil grew tighter with each passing moment. Ithaqua leaned forward, his hot breath against your ear as he whispered. “You’re doing so well… Just a bit longer, dear.”

You whined, your breathing became labored as you neared your high. You felt the coil threaten to burst with each stroke, your toes curling as droplets of tears rolled down your scarlet cheeks. You dug your nails into the mattress as you mewled. You let out a muffled gasp as you tensed once more, an overwhelming wave of pleasure washing over you as you arched your back. You could’ve sworn you had seen the stars as you moaned uncontrollably into his hand which muffled your sounds, your hot liquid spilling onto his fingers.

Hot tears spilled down your scarlet-tinted cheeks as you exhaled, your body quivering beneath him. With a sigh, he pulled his hands away from you. Examining your warm essence on his fingers as he spoke. “How disappointing… You did not last even a minute.” Running his tongue over his slender fingers, tasting the past minutes of your involvement. “Open.”

You opened your mouth agape, the young man leaning in and shoving his tongue past your lips. He explored your mouth once more, the bittersweet taste of your essence against your tongue. You closed your eyes, placing a hand on his warm cheek whilst his tongue ventured alongside yours. His hands were all over your bare skin, palming in circular motions. He invaded your mouth until he was done with you, saliva connecting both your moist lips.

“You taste terrible…” Ithaqua spoke, venom laced within his words. He knew he was speaking falsehoods, yet he could not bring himself to speak with sincerity. You could only mutter a pitiful apology under your breath as tears poured from your e/c eyes, he had a piercing gaze that made your heart skip a beat. “Spare the crocodile tears, love. We have no need for them. After all, you’ve got what you wanted. Did you not?”

The hunter rose from the bed, readjusting himself into his clothes. He retrieved his cloak from the marble floor, a miffed expression on his pale face. “Yes, but I…” “What is it?” You sighed, lowering your gaze. You couldn’t dare speak another word. The young man fetched your clothes which were scattered along the bedroom floor, tossing them by your side. “Get dressed. There’s a match at dusk. I cannot risk being reprimanded once again by the baron.”

“You’ll… stick to your word, correct?” You inquired, raising the bedsheets to your chest to sheathe your naked body. “Why would I not?” Said the hunter as he picked up his mask. Seemingly fixated on the broken mirror in front of him, he had a noticeable scowl on his face upon seeing his reflection. “A deal’s a deal, is it not? Don’t you fret, I’ll spare you and your friends the trouble. However…” Ithaqua turned on his heels to face you as he placed on his mask. “Do not expect me to be merciful this time around, understood?”

…

"Understood.”

#identity v #idv ithaqua #ithaqua #identity 5 #idv night watch #identity v night watch #identityv ithaqua #idv fanfic #identityv night watch #night watch #idv ithaqua x reader #identityv ithaqua x reader #ithaqua x reader #self insert #idv x reader #idv x you #reader insert #identityv x reader #reader is gender neutral #gender neutral insert #gender neutral reader #gender neutral fanfic #smut #idv smut #morningstar #idv morningstar #reader says please like 5 times in total #identityv #ithaqua is a bitch in this one SORRY #no beta we die like ithaqua's brother

[mysticalfairylamb]

Astrology Observations!!!

Musicians with water in their chart who make love songs , s3x vibes, or just songs for emotions specifically sadness hit different , and hit deep!!! Ex: Drake, Rhianna, Olivia Rodrigo, SZA, Doja cat ( scorpio venus ), the weeknd ( scorpio moon ), Billie Eilish ( pisces moon ), Ariana Grande , Selena Gomez ( I know more so of her old music like the heart wants what it wants, etc. ), Ari Lennox ( Cancer asc, moon at scorpio degree, mercury pisces degree), < i think it’s estimated. Summer walker ( Cancer asc) < i think one website says sag asc the other says cancer you get it though . Michael Jackson, Pisces moon Pisces ASC.

Musicians with air in their chart have such HUGE influence in the music community and in the public eye. Ex: Kendrick Lamar, Kanye West, Biggie, Tupac, Snoop Dog, The Weeknd, Doja Cat, Olivia Rodrigo ( libra moon ), Nicki Minaj ( aquarius asc ), etc. Even besides music air signs just are so known and receive SO much attention to the point where it would be kinda shocking if someone DIDN’T know who they are. like Kim K for example, Marilyn Monroe, etc. Air sign energy makes IMPACT 👏👏👏

Taurus moons tend to hold back on what they wanna say, find more comfort speaking up on their needs & wants if someone else already announced they have the same needs & wants. Some of chillest people I’ve came across. Their moon is also in my 1H. Can be pretty introverted and to themselves , the types to not show out & show off for attention , also may have trouble being direct & assertive. can come off super introverted and to themselves , sometimes may even come off secretive or mysterious cause of how closed off they are. The type you just wanna ask questions to, to find more about. What’s the truth type of question. 🤣 They hold water about themselves and it’s not easy for them to crack !!! They mask emotions well too.

MUTABLE moons and their laughs , pisces stands out the most to me. 🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣

Pisces mercurys can say the most random stuff during conversation , we can be talking about clothes then a couple seconds later “ Do you think dinosaurs even EXISTED? “ Funny ash though to see how our minds process things, can say random outbursts too, random noises, say something completely off topic. The fishy’s mind IS SWIMMING 😚😚💜

Taurus venus have really gorgeous voices and don’t like to yell a lot. I haven’t met a taurus venus who screams like a maniac. In arguments their voices probably have little to no hostility in it , or anger. Check mars sign too. Anyone I know with a taurus venus has a fire mars but they really don’t be loud. It’s very interesting 🧡🧡

Why are Gemini ASC , placements, either so nosy, messy, or they can’t hold their tongue back & gotta keep it real. Which i’m not surprised because mercury is the planet of messages & communication. Gemini/ mercury energy can get a bit messy & gossipy. Mercury is the planet of talk talk talk. It is pretty stereotypical but literally every gemini placement i’ve met INSTIGATES in arguments, or is like “ oooooou “ , it’s SOMETHING WITH THEM 🤣🤣🤣 whether it’s in public or in private but one thing about my good gemini placements is they ready to get down when it’s TIME. 🤣

Libra risings are so tall and slim. Especially with their sun being an earth sign.

Scorpio Venus and their seductive , HEAVILY sensual, “ I’m the best & everyone wants to kiss me “ music. Embracing that wild sexy feminine energy. Ex: Doja Cat, Nelly Furtado.

Aquarius moons just need a hug deep down, they probably will never admit it cause the way they just neutrally mask their emotions but trust they got a lot going on inside & can use work to distract themselves or to feel more productive.

Y’all !!! Watch out for the people who’s sun falls into your 7th, 12H!!!! Seriously, people don’t be lying when they say they the ones who be talking or plotting. Be safe & be AWARE ☺️

Scorpio placements and their tolerance to physical pain.

Scorpio energy & Psychology JUST GO ALONG.

Leo risings in whole sign have cancer in their 12H, these folks probably deal with their emotions and family issues on their own. Too complex or messy to talk about with just anyone sometimes .

Dear water venus <3 ( PISCES VENUS 111% ) please stop making false situations in your head I know you admire them and love them but sometimes always seeing the best in people only sabotages you. Yes, they have potential but where are they at NOW. In real life, in reality what’s the situation , stop convincing yourself other wise bby. ❤️

Squared Mercurys in synastry during arguments are so stubborn. Can end up going DAYS without talking after the argument from tension & the heat still being turnt up.

Practice embodying your solar return chart placements , i have an aquarius stellium and aquarius ASC and since practicing embodying the traits of aquarius since it’s super significant to me , i’ve been gaining tons of followings and views/likes on my social media platforms. Plus for me practicing the energy of the cosmos aligns me more with the universe , with my natal , solar return & persona.

Sun in the 12H can be confused about their personality , aesthetic , and being in stable in their “ presentation “ of themselves . Get told “ You don’t act like you’re a * enter sun sign * “. Sometimes these folks don’t feel like their sun sign either and resonate more with something else in their chart, or even don’t feel like ANYTHING 🤣🤣🤣 This doesn’t mean they’ll never feel stable in their identity but this is something they could struggle with in life at som point.

6H can show our animals , how our animals are with us, our bonds with our animals, and how people view our animals .

Detriment / Fall placements aren’t tragedy, domicile / Exalt placements aren’t heaven. 🤣

If you don’t feel like your natal chart, check your persona chart !!! I’m a Leo stellium in persona chart and everything in my persona resonates with me. I am a pisces stellium natal so that could be another reason why EVERYTHING resonates with me , feeling the emotions , and shapeshifting internally. Pisces isn’t just water BABY PISCES MUTABLE ALSAAKKAKA.

Wanna know someone’s Venus sign? Observe the colors that look really good on them or that they often wear. Mutable Venus may be a bit more harder to pinpoint. Also may cause confusion on the persons sun sign.

Venus/2H/7H can show the tattoo style someone likes. Or the placement/ body part. of the tattoo I’m a Scorpio 7H and I used to be attracted to crow tattoos, very dark , symbolic tattoos that have a story behind it. My moms a Sag 7H and has traveled good distances for her tattoos. My brothers a taurus venus and has a throat tattoo, taurus rules tongue, tonsils etc. My other brothers a Leo Venus and has a tattoo on his upper back of his zodiac sign, something that has to do with himself. 🤣

11H can show the genre of movies someone likes to watch. Check degree too, and whole sign. Or how they are when watching a movie, the scenes that stand out to them or make impact to them.

Gemini mars energy is very raw when they are irritated. Even when we’re quiet , our faces , tone our whole EXPRESSION shows. Get stimulated by hand activities , ( may apply to other air mars too ) cross word puzzles , video games, games that have to do with hand & eye in union. Check degree & house too.

Thank you for reading my loves !!! Feedback & constructive criticism is welcomed ! Please don’t be a d!ck. ❤️❤️❤️

#astro notes #astro observations #beginner #scorpio #pisces #cancer #astrology #libra rising #zodiac #sun signs #taurus #gemini #saggitarius #venus

[ru-xddd]

The tree of hell.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

A tree loomed over a restless street in the center of Yokohama.

It demanded with silent grace the attention of all who came across it, as its crooked fingers seemed to control even the sky. Many were intimidated by the nature of the thing, and yet submission in the presence of such a wonderfully tall tree, a tree which encouraged one to feebly crane his or her neck and admire the extent of its outstretched arms, was enough to leave the observer glowing with humility comparable to that of a praying man's. Its lush, vibrant leaves were a pleasure to observe during the day when the sun was courteous enough to kiss them bright green; the same leaves were nearly black during the night with only the faintest trace of how they appeared hours before.

To those who simply passed it by, the tree was deceivingly beautiful. Little did they know that behind its hollow cage of wooden ribs, the tree possessed nothing worth earning their gaze; in place of a beating heart, a piece humans thought necessary to understand why people do the things they do, was poison bleeding carelessly through selfish veins all the way down to stubborn roots. This was far from apparent in anything but the tree's solitude.

In their ignorance, they called the tree "The tree of Heaven".

It was the more troubled youth of Yokohama- innocent children orphaned, outcast, or terribly neglected- who understood the cruelty of which the tree was capable. They desperately sought escapism or perhaps one small moment of serenity beneath the Tree of Heaven. Whether they slumped over in exhaustion, wiped tears from their sore eyes with the crooks of their elbows, or clutched their chests to comfort their worn-out lungs, each routinely placed his or her empty hand upon the seemingly friendly bark of the tree- and each was subject to the same exact outcome. They were cursed to peel practically down to the bone the blushing skin of their hands and arms, virulent sap clinging to the hairs protruding from their pores. One wrong touch of the tree was enough to leave several scars.

They learned to stay away, and some grew to deeply despise this very tree. However (or so it was said when the terrible scratches that ruined the flesh of the young were unnoticed or perhaps ignored, if it was remotely possible to ignore moon shaped indentations with long reddish tails), the street was a lot more beautiful with the Tree of Heaven watching over. "Children are stupidly careless. It cannot be helped," declared those who knew nothing of the tree's poisonous blood. So, to the misfortune of many, the tree pridefully remained.

One day a seed fell not so far from The tree of Heaven.

The seed dropped into a gaping wound in the asphalt where the street met the dirt, an opening so snug it was as if the earth and pavement were holding hands; it was a crack far too deep and dark for anyone merely passing by to notice anything growing inside, as the sun could not pry apart the soil and the tar to tend to the starving seed, nor could it call awareness to the seed's hopeless situation. Consequently, the seed should never have sprouted. It should have decayed six feet under the ground before it saw the light of day.

Alas, it was a miserable mistake, and miserable mistakes tend to disappoint expectations of miraculous death. The seed did not particularly desire to live, as it was not human and therefore couldn't feel such things; nevertheless, it leeched on the parent tree instinctively, for the urge to survive was programmed in its DNA, and that was something impossible to resist. It clung innocently to the Tree of Heaven, intricately intertwining itself into roots that should have poisoned the seed the same way the tree mercilessly tainted everything it touched; roots that should have sucked the life out of the seed but chose to gift it life instead; roots that offered a foundation for the seed to experience light when it was surrounded by nothing but the hole in which it fell.

Thus, the seed twisted itself free from the shell that held its soul, and the young tree ascended with such rapid determination it could have left the sky (the same sky capable of enduring the almighty Tree of Heaven) afraid of the tree's needy arms that stretched as far as the eye could see. Never had a tree grown so quickly in all of Yokohama as the successor of the Tree of Heaven, which had appeared seemingly overnight on a restless street in the middle of the city, and it was appalling how something as obvious as a tree could suddenly exist .

It was more appalling to whom it concerned, though, that the tree wasn't beautiful like the Tree of Heaven; it was a nuisance and everyone wanted it to disappear.

The tree mortified all who came across it with its insufferable arrogance to so much as take up space. It possessed hideous limbs far too long to appear natural protruding from its slim trunk, as the tree was so thin that any ridges resembled bones beneath human flesh, and its leaves were so thick it rendered a certain part of the street dark and cold. Its bark was sickly grey, and sap oozed from its crevices like blood half-heartedly seeping out of open wounds. The tree smelled burnt, and it looked burnt to a certain extent with its leaves slightly darker than the Tree of Heaven's. One should have felt humble in the presence of such a wonderfully tall tree, but no one did because the tree was a terrible eyesore that somehow turned out worse than the Tree of Heaven.

With their newfound annoyance, despite it being next to identical to the tree they admired so much, people called the new tree the "Tree of Hell".

The Tree of Hell was condemned by all who passed it, purposefully avoided the same way people who are displeasing to the eye are ignored, but there were some who were so bothered by the tree that they attempted to cut it down. They were left with great rashes on their hands but even greater exasperation (at which the young misfits of Yokohama secretly sneered, coddling their own scars in the case they were victims of the Tree of Heaven). Similarly, attempts were made to cut the Tree of Heaven for producing an annoying thing such as the Tree of Hell. These attempts were rendered futile and met with retaliation as both trees regrew at full tilt from their respective stumps within days of what could only be described as bitter decapitation.

Heaven and Hell returned hand-in-hand; passersby scorned them and declared that the trees were even uglier once they grew back.

If the Tree of Hell was capable of pondering the actions of humans who wished suffering upon it so much, surely it would pose possibilities of why it was disregarded so thoughtlessly whereas the Tree of Heaven was treated as a symbol of beauty. If it could, perhaps the Tree of Hell would assume it got in the way because it didn't stand off to the side or blend in like the Tree of Heaven did, which was something truly out of its control and might have made the tree upset. Perhaps the Tree of Hell would believe humans found its mere existence, an existence far out of anyone's dictation, alive or dead, offensive solely because they couldn't get rid of it no matter how hard they tried, and this might have made the tree widen its (imaginary) eyes like a child before it cries. Perhaps it had nothing to offer to them, so they had nothing to offer it back, which may be the most absurd hypothetical of them all, but it might have made the tree want to simply take its own life.

Perhaps yet, there was no perhaps, and the Tree of Hell would never feel no matter how hard one wants it to. There is no good sense in anthropomorphizing a tree to such a laughable extent, especially not this one, for this was a tree that would forever have one unchangeable impression on others, as it was one small yet negative part of the world around it. In the end, this tree was irredeemably, befittingly, and irreversibly called the "Tree of Hell". It was never worthy of sympathy even if it never asked to exist as it did.

Sadly, there were nothing anyone could do. Nothing

Thank you for reading <3

[hoshi-y]

Ah hello!! I've noticed you write for tbhk!! Can I request Amane going stargazing with his s/o and he's pointing out constellations and such while she listens and after a while she says sometimes she feels jealous of the sky and stars because he looks at them all the time? So he starts teasing/spoiling her? We stan cute jealousy and we obviously stan happy Amane!! Sorry if it's too specific :((

"I have eyes only for you.."

She/Her

Genre : Fluff

Characters : Yugi Amane

TW : None

A/N : THAT IS SO CUTE, he'd tease because of how jealous you are BWUXUWOXOOAKS

I HOPE YOU ENJOY 💗

You are more ethereal than those shinning above us.

Amane has always loved astronomy, when he was a kid, he'd always sneak out at night and find an area with less lighting and lay down to watch the stars until they slowly dissappear

He thought that the stars we're the only thing that give him comfort and joy, but he was wrong.

When he met you, things took a huge turn. He didn't feel this much emotion whenever he went stargazing or reading about constellations. You gave him an entirely different emotion, and that made him happy

When he found out you liked him too he was over the moon, you'd share about your interests and he was afraid to share his, but you accepted them anyway, you loved how he talked about astronomy and you found it cute. For awhile

As stupid as it sounds, you were jealous, why is there a need to be jealous? Amane loves you, more than the stars

But you know, it can't be helped

Amane took you out on a date to a carnival, and now you two ended up on a quite hill not too far away from the carnival, laying down and look up in the stars. "Amanee.. What's that light right below the moon?" You asked pointing at the direction

"That's actually Venus. Did you know that Venus, is the second planet closest to the sun? The reason we see Venus so clearly is because it is closer to the Sun than Earth, so it orbits inside Earth’s path." Amane stated as he smiles a little sharing his own knowledge in astronomy

You had no knowledge when it came to astronomy, sure you know the basics but not in the deeper section. Tilting your head to the left, you watch as Amane was saying something but you couldn't hear it, as he pointed at the different constellations in the sky

"I'm.. A little jealous.." You mumbled hopinf he didn't hear, but he now had his full attention to you

"Why is that?" He asks, you blushed a little looking back up in the sky "Its a little stupid." He smirks "Come on~ I won't judge"

You hesitate as you looked into his Amber eyes that you could drown at, "Well.. You look at the stars alot, and would stay late at night watching it dissappear.. You stay up late stargazing... Rather than talking to me.." You mumbled the last part but he heard it, he let out a chuckle

"Oh my~ Are you jealous of the stars my Dear?~ Well when you go to sleep me and the stars have late night talks you know, just kidding~" He teased as you look away from him making him laugh "Shut up.."

He hugged you from behind pulling you closer, as your back hits his chest, he began to slowly pepper your face with kisses "Don't be jealous.. Alright? I have eyes only for you.." He gave you one of his signature smiles that made you melt right away

Amane rested his elbow on the grass, as he leaned in a gave you a kiss "I only admire them from far away.. I can't touch them nor hug them like this.. I sometimes wonder if you are a star that landed here on earth hm?" you blushed

He sat up and laid your head on his lap, he ran his fingers thru your hair as he leaned down and gave you another kiss. "I love you.. [F/N].. And there's nothing more than I want to be with you.. I'd much rather look at you than those damn stars.."

"You're so cheesy.." You giggled sitting up, Amane pulled you closer your noses touching

"But you love this cheesy guy no?~" He smiled giving your lips another sweet kiss

He was content, he was happy.. When he was a kid, he dreamed of being an astronaut, to reach for the stars and never having to watch from afar.

I think that dream has been fulfilled now.. He didn't become an astronaut though.

But he was now finally holding the one thing he dreamt of to hold so close.

You.

omahgawd

#toilet bound hanako kun #jibaku shoujo hanako kun #tbhk x reader #jshk #tbhk #hanako kun #tbhk hanako #yugi amane #tbhk amane #amane x reader

[baatarthefirst]

6. Wild, breathless kisses brought on by a heartfelt gift.

The Standing Battalion was finally back, bringing supplies and civilian manpower to help make the Winter a little easier for the Sunfire Elves. They’d all toiled especially hard to get the supplies delivered to their proper place and get the civilians settled in before the sun set. The humans were ready for a little relaxation, but first a bath for every single one of them.

Their hosts probably didn’t appreciate foreigners hogging up every underground bathhouse and aboveground bathtent in the city, but to be fair, it’d been a long journey and the elves probably knew they were coming by the smell. Amaya stabled her horse and went to the bathhouse closest to the center of the city for a quick wash. Her soldiers cleaned, splashed, and wrestled while they spoke of their plans. 

Some would go to their tents and embrace sleep with great enthusiasm. Others would meet up with their elf friends and have a drink of the brew they’d brought with them. Three or four of them were just ready to be held by a lover. Amaya was one of them, and there was absolutely no discretion, no end to the teasing…such was the life of a soldier.

Janai was still working when Amaya came to her tent, gift in hand. She was bent over a stack of scrolls and books, looking for vital information; overworked and stressed. Well, that was something the general intended to fix, she put a gift box on top of all the work. The elf followed the box to its deliverer. Eyes met, and a moment later Amaya was finally back in Janai’s embrace.  

The gift was left on the table, forgotten while the lovers got lost in each other’s arms.

Janai played with her hair as they cuddled in bed, fulfilled for the moment and content. Slowly, the post lovemaking haze slowly started to clear for the human, and she remembered the gift. It was secondhand, certainly not fit for a queen, but Amaya saw it amongst her possessions in Katolis and wanted to share it with Janai. Unfortunately, doing that meant she had to get back up.

“I brought you something.” 

“What? No, Amaya, stay here.” The queen didn’t whine, she just gave an order with loving desperation. Her lover kissed her forehead with a smile that promised defiance. Janai propped herself on the pillows as Amaya retrieved the box. If she must lose her human’s touch, she was going to at least get a great view.

“You didn’t have to bring me anything.” Janai insisted, though she was flattered by the thought. Amaya sat next to Janai and placed the box on her stomach.

“Lower your expectations.” She warned, “It’s practically worthless.” 

The queen lifted the lid and found…she almost jokingly asked if this was actually a gift for Kazi, but thought better of it by the unsure gaze her lover was trying to hide. It was clearly important to Amaya, and that alone made it priceless to Janai.

It was a storybook. Old and worn from use, but its binding strong; someone had it painstakingly put back together. Its title read, ‘Tales of Sky and Earth, a book of fables and legends’. 

“A childhood favorite?” She guessed. Her lover nodded, and started flipping through the pages. Janai caught flashes of little drawings on the tops and bottom of the pages, some much newer than others, done by multiple children if she had to guess, “I see you liked to draw.”

“Sarai did it, too.” Amaya would not accept the blame for all of it, even as old as she was, as old as the defacement was, she would take her big sister down with her. She pointed to what was presumably a tree and a…monkey?...she couldn’t read what the monkey was supposed to be saying. “And these two are Callum and Ezran’s.” 

“Very cute.” The flipping resumed until they reached a story called ‘When the Sun loves the moon’. Janai was meant to read it. The story told the human’s explanation for the Sun’s Eclipse. 

The golden sun thought the silver moon was stealing her light and claiming it as her own, so she started chasing the presumed thief to recover it. Every so often, the powerful sun would catch up to the playful moon and would fight to reclaim its light. The moon was too sly, and would always manage to slip away without losing a single ray. 

Over the years, the sun came to realize that the light hadn’t been stolen, the moon had merely collected the light that missed the ground and fell amongst the stars. She’d done so that she may show her love for the great orb, and had simply enjoyed the chase too much to explain. The sun fell in love with the moon, and vowed to share her light without hesitation. Now, whenever the sun catches up with the moon, the lovers embrace for a few short minutes. The moon absorbs the sun’s rays, then their chase begins again.

“Ah, that sounds vaguely familiar.” Janai smiled upon completion, making the same connections as Amaya had. The pages were flipped again, this time in one fell swoop to the inside of the front cover. Which had an inscription,

To my Sun, may our chase never stop - Amaya

“As long as your light still shines, my Moon, I’ll never stop chasing you.” Janai promised, putting the book in its box and setting it safely aside before pulling her in for a strong kiss, and one after that. Amaya matched her, giving kiss after kiss until they were both breathless and sharing their light once more. 

(@wolfheartsstuff . Sorry, the ask was lost)

#tdp #the dragon prince #amaya #janai #janaya

[6lostgirl6]

Hear me out. Marko would be so cute with a s/o with a Stevie Nicks vibe.

I thought of Misty Day throughout writing this! Hopefully you like it!

TW: None

Marko’s S/O With Stevie Nicks Vibes 

How You Met Him

You met Marko when you both were in the record store on the boardwalk. You were looking for some Stevie Nicks records while Marko accompanied Paul because he wanted another tape since he broke his in the cave. 

Firstly, he noticed you because of your sense of style. Being someone who admired great fashion given that he made his jacket himself, he always liked various forms of self-expression. 

You wore shawls with various patterns and colors along with your wrists covered in a multitude of charm bracelets that were in correspondence to your charm necklace and a small top hat. 

Marko was instantly intrigued and wanted to talk to you and see what inspired your look and what you liked listening to given you were at the record store. 

After he walked up to you, he showed great interest in learning about your fashion inspiration and you were excited in telling him about Stevie Nicks. 

You were very down to earth, charming, and extremely kind when answering his never-ending questions. He just wanted to learn so much about you.

After that night, he was head over heels. 

When You're Dating Him

You love nature and whenever Marko and you aren’t at the boardwalk, the two of you would be walking around and helping you find flowers and shiny rocks to collect.

Other than nature, you adore animals and luckily for you Marko has pigeons!

He always has a smile on his face when you go out of the way to feed his pigeons which makes them trust you and think of you as their second parent since Marko is obviously a pigeon dad. 

Whenever Marko is pissed off because of a fight he had on the boardwalk or something happened that clearly bothered him, you are his rock. You uplift him and help him see the bright side of things and it makes him feel a lot better. 

He still has anger issues and likes to start trouble, however he doesn’t go seeking it out because he has you now. 

After dating Marko for a while and discovering what he was, you unexpectedly didn't mind. Therefore, you spent a lot more time with him in the cave with your own nest.

The both of you would sit in your nest and listen to Stevie Nicks and her collection for hours while he would draw with you. 

Even when doing nothing, he’s happy to cuddle with you and kiss when a romantic song by Stevie starts playing. 

He likes watching you dance to Stevie Nicks’ songs because he finds you super cute when you sway to the music lost in your own head. 

He’ll even dance with you if you want him to. Just grab his arm and tug on him and he’s following you. 

Sometimes you get lost in thought because you constantly have things going through your mind that you just have to sit and think to yourself for a moment. Marko knows about this and is patient, he doesn't mind sitting in silence with you since your presence is more than enough. 

You both have matching charm necklaces that came in a pair that you both ‘bought’ at the jewelry stand. 

Your necklace had a sun pendant while he had the moon pendant. To him, you were his sun and to you, he was your moon. Despite being complete opposites, you both worked so well together in a perfect balance. While he thrived in the night, you thrived in the daytime. 

Adding scarves to your outfits, he definitely would add a scarf to his wardrobe to remind himself of you when you’re not together. 

Even together, he’ll wear one of your scarves that matches his jacket and ride into town with you because being a matching couple is his jam.

#marko x reader #Marko headcanons #marko the lost boys #marko tlb #the lost boys 1987 #stevie nicks reader #headcanons #the lost boys headcanon #stevie nicks

[trippedandfell]

#100 "it's always been you" kisses because damn if that aint buddiecore.... (please!)

today, yesterday, everyday, and tomorrow night

buddie | 3.6k | ao3 | enjoy some odd, vaguely explained magical realism/parallel universe... stuff.

Eddie wakes up in a cold sweat.

There’s a journal on his bedside table, a glass of water carefully perched on top. He picks up both, downs half the glass in one go.

Then, as the sun begins to creep up above the horizon, he begins to write.

-

This is what Eddie knows -

There are over 420,000 parallel universes that exist alongside Earth, bumping together like beads on a hand-strung necklace. For most people, they exist only in passing - a sentence at the end of a museum plaque, a throwaway line by a reporter on a slow news day. It’s the kind of information that gets taught near the sticky-hot end of the school year, kids fidgeting out of their chairs, the teacher plodding through a chapter that’s been forced to be included in the curriculum. 

This is what Eddie knows -

He’s not like most people.

Hasn’t been, really, since he sat down at the kitchen table opposite his Abuela in the middle of June, twelve years old and still shaking from adrenaline as he recounted a dream that had been real, too real, right down to the hot warmth of the sun on his neck and the salty tang of the ocean. It had been almost a relief when she had taken his hand and explained it slowly, those who walked between worlds as they slept in hopes of discovering hidden truths. A gift, she called it, smile soft and understanding. A way to teach us what’s important.

Eddie learns about the night his Abeula awoke under a sky of different stars and met an old man who told her the exact nature of the injury that had been plaguing her hip, the time his Dad met a man in the middle of a brilliant purple ocean who showed him the path to his chosen career. When he gets older, he has his own stories to share - the young girl he met that showed him how to throw a fastball, the winding village road he followed back to his Abuelo’s childhood home. He and his sisters swap stories at the dinner table, tales of the not-quite right worlds they visit when they close their eyes, comparing notes on the different ways the ground felt beneath their feet, the unique tint of the sky.

The dreams don’t come every night, or even every week - they’re random, striking like a summer thunderstorm, a collection of short bursts that leave just as quickly as they came. Only when it’s truly important, his Abuela tells him, and Eddie realizes just how true that is when he spends three weeks trying to decipher why he keeps hearing a child laugh ecstatically while he sleeps, only to wake up one day to Shannon shaking his shoulder, a pregnancy test clutched tight in one hand. 

He doesn’t dream when he’s overseas, although whether that’s from sheer exhaustion or something else, he can’t quite tell. It’s not until the helicopter goes down in a sea of flames that they start anew, more intense than ever - a woman on the street shouting at him to make a change, the faint sound of a siren following him as he treks around a world with two moons.

Eddie follows the dreams to LA, where they shudder again to a stop.

That is, he supposes, until now. 

-

Buck’s already got coffee waiting when Eddie staggers into the kitchen, taking a grateful gulp before collapsing into the nearest chair.

“Somewhere tropical this time,” he says, in lieu of a greeting, fingers drumming idly on the tabletop. “South America, I think. Lots of beaches.” 

He slides the leather-bound notebook across the table, already bookmarked to the latest entry, the messy memories he managed to scrawl down the night before. Buck’s silent as he reads, throat bobbing as he finishes his own coffee, topped with so much milk that it’s nearly the colour of snow.

“This is the third one that’s had blue sand,” he says finally, flipping to the back of the book, the series of hastily-drawn charts and diagrams littered across the pages. “Do you think that has something to do with it?”

“I don’t know,” Eddie moans, slumping down to press his forehead against the cool wood. “It’s never been this hard before.”

He can’t see Buck’s face from this angle, but he can picture it - eyebrows drawn together, bottom lip caught between his teeth. It’s the face he’s been wearing ever since Eddie sat him down last month and poured his secrets out in a rush - the dreams, the travelling, the way that he hasn’t been able to sleep through the night since Hen and Karen’s vow renewal, his consciousness on a hunt for something that he can’t quite find. They’d called his Abuela together later that day, who had been concerned but not ultimately helpful, reminding him that sometimes these things take time, that he just needs to find the underlying message and they’ll stop.

“Mijo,” she had said finally, after Buck left to go pick up Chris, squeezing Eddie’s shoulder as he went, “are you sure it’s not-”

“No,” Eddie said flatly, and that had been the end of that. 

Because it’s not Buck causing the dreams, he’s sure of it. Buck appears in the dreams, more often than not, but he’s never - he’s not there to send a message, or to reveal some hidden truth. The vast majority of the worlds Eddie travels to are remarkably similar to his own, so it’s no surprise that nine times out of ten Buck is there, normally with some other members of the 118, or even Eddie’s family. He’s just there as part of the fabric of Eddie’s life - a familiarity. A welcome committee, wherever he goes.

Whatever his mind is trying to tell him, it isn’t about Buck. Which leaves him here, sitting at the kitchen table long before Chris makes it out of bed, dissecting every moment of last night in hopes that he’ll finally stumble across the right answer and finally be able to get some goddamn rest.

“Okay,” Buck says now, tapping a pencil against the lined page, one, two, three. “Maybe it has to do with the water. You didn’t speak to anyone?”

Eddie wrinkles his nose, trying his best to remember. “I lived with you and Chimney,” he says, thinking of the strange room he woke up in, mattress hard against the floor. “We were - surfers, I think. Hen ran the coffee shop downstairs?”

“But no strangers?” Buck presses. “No one on the beach? Did you have a phone?”

“I did,” Eddie allows. It’s always easier in the worlds with phones - he can see who he’s in contact with, search the internet to discover where, exactly, he is. On the days when he wakes up without Chris, he’s always tempted to search his name, see what he finds, but can never quite find the strength to. If he’s honest, he’s scared he might stumble across something he never wants to see - that Chris is gone, or, even worse, that he never existed at all. “I texted - um. I wrote it down. My mom, and -”

“Adriana,” Buck says, squinting at the page. “I think. Your handwriting is awful, dude.”

Eddie kicks him under the table, laughing as Buck squirms away. “You try writing in the dark and see how well it turns out.”

That sets Buck off on some rant about different handwriting styles, and the cultural variations of each - Eddie’s too tired to fully comprehend it, if he’s honest, but he’s more than content to listen, let Buck’s words wash over him as he rambles. It’s far better than dissecting every single moment of Eddie’s night, as much as he knows Buck wants to.

Because Buck - Buck is worried. Eddie knows it, even if Buck won’t tell him outright - can see it in the clench of his jaw, the way the coffee mugs he slides to Eddie across the table keep growing in size. Eddie wants to hold him and tell him to stop, tell him that he’s alright, but at this point, he’s not quite sure if he believes it himself.

He’s at the edge of the precipice. And to be quite honest, he doesn’t think he has much longer until he falls. 

-

It’s not until he starts travelling when he naps that it truly becomes a problem.

He’s been using naps as a bridge to survival the past six (or is it seven? He’s lost track) weeks, curling up against Buck’s side at the station and dozing off whenever he can. It’s been working pretty well for him, up until the day that he falls asleep in the bunkroom and wakes up in an unfamiliar house, stretched out in a king-sized bed. 

“Motherfucker,” he curses, pulling himself upright before going through his checklist - phone, window, photos. Thankfully, the device on the bedside table looks remarkably similar to his iPhone at home, so he opens it up, swipes through it - Buck’s at the top of his contact list, same with Ravi and Hen. There’s no Chimney or Bobby this time, but there is a picture of Chris as his wallpaper, so - that’ll do. He can work with that.

The window is next, peeking out into a residential street, houses boring and beige and otherwise unremarkable. There’s a full moon high in the sky above, and Eddie’s about to check the formation of the stars when something darts across the street, disappearing into the shadows as quickly as it emerged.

It takes Eddie a minute to place it, but when he does, he has to bite back another curse. He turns to the pictures on the nightside table, and - yep. There’s a group of them sitting in a field, arms slung around each other’s shoulders and faces decidedly wolfy.

Buck’s probably going to get a kick out of this one. He loves the supernatural dreams.

Now that Eddie’s fully awake, he can feel his senses kick into full gear - the sound of Chris’s heartbeat down the hall, the faint honk of a horn from five streets over. There’s a scuffling downstairs, and he almost jumps before his brain catches up - Buck.

The house is old, floorboards warped with age, so Eddie doesn’t even bother to be quiet as he makes it down the steps, following the sound of Buck singing in the kitchen. He smiles when he sees Eddie, canines long and poking over his bottom teeth.

“Morning,” he says, sliding a plate of waffles across the table. “You’re up early.”

“Mm.” Eddie busies himself with eating so he doesn’t have to respond. This is always the hardest part of these dreams - figuring out what this world’s Eddie is like, slipping into another person’s shoes for a day. His Abuela has told him time and time again that he won’t actually affect this Eddie, that the day will reset once he’s gone and no one will have any memory of it except himself, but it still feels - weird. “You sleep okay?”

Buck snorts. “I never sleep on a full moon.” His eyebrows narrow, just the slightest. “Are you feeling okay?” 

“I’m -” Eddie’s about to say fine when there’s a tug low in his gut, something he hasn’t felt before. “Uh,” he tries again, before he doubles over in pain, Buck racing over to his side before he can react, hands braced against Eddie’s chest.

“What’s going on?” He demands, voice tense - scared. “Talk to me.”

Eddie tries to, he really does, but then the world around him blurs and he comes to on the floor of the bunkroom, back drenched with sweat and Buck - his Buck - standing over him worriedly. 

“You weren’t answering,” he says, and his voice is rough, as if he’s been yelling. “Was that-”

There’s still a sharp ache in Eddie’s gut, but it’s fading rapidly. “Yeah,” he says, because there’s no point in lying, not when it’s Buck. He takes a deep breath, digs his fingernails into the palms of his hands. “I, uh. Think it might be time to talk to someone.”

-

Dr. Richardson is kind, competent, and very, very experienced, according to her impressive website. None of that explains why her eyebrows furrow when Eddie describes his situation, Buck a stony soldier to his right, clutching the notebook they’ve brought along. 

“The dreams aren’t supposed to hurt,” she says finally, leaning back in her seat. Outside the window, Eddie can hear the loud sound of a car alarm - he supposes, with people like him being so rare, that being in this industry isn’t exactly lucrative. Not unless you’re shilling fake dreams for people, like some of the weirdos Buck found online in his research. “They’re supposed to just - nudge. Help. Definitely not last this long.”

“So is there a way to stop it?” Buck asks, and his face is a little tense, gaunt. Neither of them have been sleeping well ever since the incident at the station, scared of what will happen if they do. “Like, do you have medicine or something that can help?”

“We can try a few things,” Dr. Richardson allows, although she doesn’t sound particularly hopeful. Eddie’s heart sinks somewhere deep in his stomach. “But dreams - especially travelling through dreams - are fickle. Unpredictable. It’s like the universe, wherever it is, has something it desperately wants you to know. Something you’re avoiding, or refusing to admit.”

“But I don’t have anything like that,” Eddie says frustratedly, refusing the urge to tug on his hair. “I mean - my biggest thing to work through was coming out, and I took care of that before this all started. Everyone in my life knows.”

“Coming out is a good example, but - not quite.” Dr. Richardson taps her pen on the corner of her page. “Some studies - fringe theories, really - say that what we learn in our dreams is the opposite of what happens when you’re awake. Not the lesson we learn, but - the feeling. If you discover something in a terrifying dream, it might end up being a really funny moment in real life. Same with sad dreams - happy moments, when you’re awake.”

“So what does that mean for Eddie?” Buck is too big for the chair, limbs squished and contorted. Any other time, Eddie would laugh, but right now he’s just - tired. 

Dr. Richardson smiles at that, the faintest thing. “That maybe whatever the universe is trying to tell you, it’s really, really good.”

-

Eddie goes home.

Eddie dreams.

Eddie dreams about skydiving, about floating in a bubble above the Earth. Dreams about being a firefighter in Boston, or teaching overseas. Dreams about living in a mansion on a lake, camping in a tent during a pink-hued fall.

In all his dreams, Buck is there. In all his dreams, he’s awoken too early by a stabbing pain - sometimes in his stomach, sometimes elsewhere. 

“This is just - bullshit,” Buck finally says one morning, when Eddie comes limping out of his bedroom with a fading ache in his leg. “This shouldn’t - this is supposed to be a good thing.”

He looks so indignant, so furious, that Eddie just wants to give him a hug. He settles for linking their ankles under the table instead. 

“It normally is,” he says, soothing. “We just need to figure this out. We’re close.”

And they are close, he thinks. They’re circling in on a few themes, scrawled in the back of Eddie’s notebook: Family. Togetherness. Relaxing. Vague ideas that might lead to something, anything.

He’s taken to speaking ideas out loud, when he wakes up in unfamiliar places. I want more children. There is a promotion in my future. I’m taking a vacation soon. They all feel vaguely wrong, like ash on his lips the second he says them. But he just - can’t. Can’t figure out what else it might be.

The dream journal’s getting beat up by how much use he’s getting out of it, edges warped and pages bent. It’s instinct, at this point, for Eddie to reach for it when he wakes up yet again in a cold sweat, the clock on the wall informing him cheerily that it’s just past three in the morning.

Normally, after the dreams, he’s able to go back to sleep, catch a few hours of normal rest, but tonight he just feels - wired. Jittery. After nearly an hour of tossing and turning, he gives up altogether and flips through the notebook, turning on the nightside lamp as he goes. There’s just - there’s got to be something.

Reading the book front-to-back doesn’t unlock any new secrets, so he settles instead for tallying words on the back of an old receipt, counting the total number of times they appear. Blue appears forty-eight. Father appears fifty. Family appears sixty-five. And Buck - Eddie scrubs at his eyes, just to make sure he’s not reading it wrong - Buck appears seventy-two times.

The last time Eddie got a dreamless sleep was seventy-three nights ago.

He forces himself to check his math, to try again, but the result is the same, Buck’s name leaping off of every page. More words appear, too - Cooking. Kitchen. Firefighting. Chris. Peace. He tallies them all, then stares down at the back of the page, hands shaking.

Because he’s just - on the back of a CVS receipt, of all places - he’s just holding a list of precious phrases that make up Buck. They’ve been searching all this time for one word, or one thing, but it’s been everything - every aspect of his dreams, from the beach in South America to Buck making him breakfast - is about him. He had been so sure, so certain that Buck wasn’t there in every dream, that it couldn’t possibly be the lesson he was trying to be taught, but now, looking at the pages - even if Buck wasn’t physically there, Eddie always texted him, or called. There was always at least one picture on the nightside table, a number in his phone.

God. Eddie’s mind has been a shrine to Buck for nearly three months now, and he hadn’t even noticed.

“I’m in love with Buck,” he says, aloud to his empty room. Nothing shakes, nothing moves, but he somehow feels more - at peace, regardless. “I’m in love with Buck,” he repeats, and then, before he can help himself, he’s on his feet, making his way over to the couch where Buck’s dozing restlessly.

“Eddie?” He murmurs, and then he’s jolting awake, reaching out to grab his sides. “Are you okay? Did something happen?”

“I’m fine,” Eddie promises, and he knows he’s smiling like a fool, but he can’t quite bring himself to care. “I just - I figured it out. I know what the dreams are trying to tell me.”

Buck’s alert now, his body a tense line next to Eddie’s own. “Really?” He murmurs, and then, without warning, pulls Eddie into his chest. “God, I was so fucking worried,” he gasps, hands fisting the back of Eddie’s shirt. “I just - what is it? Are you allowed to tell me?”

Eddie takes a deep breath. He should be nervous, should be terrified - this is, if the intensity of his dreams were any indication, probably the biggest realization he’s ever uncovered. But it’s also - it’s just Buck. Who showed up with a pile of research before Eddie even had a chance to think, who lets him steal sips of his too-sweet coffee at work. Buck, who takes Chris to the zoo nearly every weekend and has his own collection of mugs in the cupboard under the sink.

“I’m in love with you.”

Buck reels back as if he’s been hit. “You - what?”

“I’m in love with you,” Eddie repeats, tugging Buck’s hand into his lap, twisting their fingers together. “And,” he adds, when he can see a protest forming on the tip of Buck’s tongue, “this isn’t another guess, or something I’m unsure about. I know it. This is what the dreams have been trying to tell me.”

“Your dream curse almost killed you to get you to confess your feelings,” Buck says, somewhat in disbelief. He stares at their entwined hands as if he can’t quite believe it himself. “I just - wow. Holy shit.”

“I know it’s a lot,” Eddie says apologetically, looking out the window, where the sun is barely peeking above the horizon. “And you don’t have to say it back today, or ever, really. I just - needed to tell you.”

Buck scoots closer, just enough so that their knees brush. It sends a tingle of something up Eddie’s spine, an undeniable sense of rightness flowing through his entire body. 

“It is a lot,” he confesses, voice low. “But it’s not - God. I love you. I’ve wanted you for ages. You had to have noticed.”

Eddie gestures to his general everything, biting his lip to hide his smile. “I’m pretty oblivious, apparently.”

It feels silly now, in hindsight, that it could have been anything but Buck. He probably owes his Abuela an apology.

“I want to kiss you,” he blurts out, inelegant and simple. If pressed, he’ll blame it on the lack of sleep. “I mean,” he pauses, clears his throat. “Can I kiss you?”

Buck doesn’t answer with words.

Instead, he cradles Eddie’s face in both hands, like he’s something precious, something breakable, and leans in. It’s hardly a kiss, hardly anything at all, but Eddie swears his chest cracks right open in that moment, his heart barren for all to see as he kisses Buck again, and again, and again.

(And again.)

-

Eddie goes to bed with Buck in his arms that night.

It’s the best sleep he’s ever had. 

leave a comment on ao3!

#911 #911fic #911 fox #buddie fic #myfic #asked and answered #thank you for the prompt sorry i took it in a weird direction mwah!!! #this is what happens when the teen wolf trailer drops while i'm writing #just roll with it we're just vibing here <3

[coldandfoggy]

Midnight Eucharist

——†——

The warm wood glistened with dim autumn light filtered through the small windows of the cabin. The dark lacquer gave the wood paneling a lively air as the honey-toned splashes of light stretched across the floor like golden shadows. Father Theodore, standing in his quarters, unclasped the silver crucifix necklace from around his neck. He placed the jewelry gently in his cupboard, somewhere he’ll recognize. The sacred cross gave one last glint before the drawer was sensibly shut.

            He laid his rosary delicately before the painting of The Last Supper that hung above his study. His eyes glanced to Judas, bending down to adorn Jesus with that damning kiss. He looked away. No point.

            It was bound to be dusk soon. He should be there. Making his way to the door, he paused as his hand reached the doorknob, reminded by the glint of silver. He hesitated, then carefully slid his wedding ring off his finger, placing it on a shelf by the door. He looked back for a moment, just a moment, before he shut the door behind him.

            Dusk was approaching quickly, yet some few tendrils of light peeked out from the horizon, not yet drowned by the night sky. He made his way to the church, like he had one million times before.

            Wet grass and gravel crackled beneath his feet. His black leather boots went well with his cassock, but were not well suited for any manner of hiking. They were past the church now, wading through the courtyard to the patch behind the cemetery. He weaved through epitaphs etched in stone, bathed in the golden-red light of the ever-dwindling sun.

            Beyond the town, beyond the Church’s consecrated grounds, lay a dark stretch of land. An informal continuation of the cemetery, only bereft of its holy blessing. Bodies lay there all the same; some before the church’s time, but simply not graced by consecrated earth; others buried when the church denied the dead a holy funeral on godly grounds, be they undesirable to them in some way. A cruel damning, indeed.

At the far end of the graveyard, broken up by brush and stones and unkempt paths forgotten for years, the great shining bones of what once was a grand manor lay, stripped bare and sun-bleached and picked clean by the toll of neglect among nature. But however decrepit and rotted it may be, it was not dead, for something in it was very much alive.

Before him, now, that great skeleton lay. The fossilized remains of a home once raucous with laughter and life. He finds the spot in the front yard with the sapling cypress tree. It’s grown since he last saw it, twisting itself in contortions to look for light that wasn’t there. It had grown thinner, but it was alive. He remembered planting it, still. After all this time.

He sat himself alongside the twisted cypress. The night was full and alive, the new moon only a dark spot in the endless black sky. The mist had rolled in, and the dark was growing colder. His lamplight flickered, threatening to leave him in the pitch black. He wouldn’t mind. He kept waiting.

“Teddy.”

A voice, soft and sweet, but desperate in recognition. Theodore whipped around to what he thought was the source of the noise, the name only so sweet on that tongue, the name only music in that voice.

“Sergei?” Theodore asked with trembling voice. In the distance, if his eyes do not deceive him, a figure stood tall and dark against the fog. A figure in a shape he knew so well.

The mist was thick now, the grass becoming heavy with dewdrops, bowing their heads in the frigid night air. The anticipation, the longing. It had been too long – it always was too long.

The figure, now taking form more tangible, approached Theodore. Despite the cold air, a warmth came over the both of them.

“Sergei,” Theodore said as he took Sergei in his arms, pressing him to his chest, cold skin against skin. “I missed you. I missed you so much.”

“I missed you, too.” Sergei spoke through bitter tears. “How did you…?”

Theodore pulled back, enough to face him. “A new moon.” Theodore said. They looked overhead to see the vast, empty sky. “It moves the fabric of this realm as if it were a tide.”

“You knew it would be a new moon tonight?” Sergei asked. Theo nodded.

“Of course. The veil is thin, as thin as it will get in the next few decades, and the mists grow thicker this time of year. I thought, it may be easier for you to step through on a colder, foggy night, when the veil is thinnest.”

“Someone’s been a studious fellow!” Sergei joked, tussling Theodore’s hair, sending him to fits of childish giggles. “Leave it to you to memorize lunar charts for a date. Ever the considerate one. How long have you been planning this?”

“I…” Theo hesitated, almost a little embarrassed. “I started planning for our next meeting the second I arrived home from our last. That was… three months ago.”

Sergei looked down at the grass dappled with crystal dewdrops. “It’s been that long already…?”

Theodore deflated a bit. “They seem to only be getting longer. I don’t know what it is, but…”

“Funny, time feels so different here.” Sergei looked up at the stars with a weak smile. “I can’t tell if the last time I saw you was yesterday or last year. It’s all foggy nights and in-betweens. I don’t even know how long I’ve been here for.”

“Two years, now.”

Sergei looked at Theodore with a surprised expression. “Two years?”

Theodore paused, momentarily too ashamed to look him in the eye. “…As of today. It’s… been two years since…” He swallowed, not able to finish the rest of his sentence.

A moment of silence filled the frigid air.

“It’s okay.” Sergei squeezed Theodore’s hand slightly. “You know that, right? You did all you could for me. And that’s all I could ever ask.”

“I could’ve… could’ve talked to them more… s-said the right things, they’d have given you a proper Christian burial…”

“Then I wouldn’t have you.” Sergei cut through Theodore’s inklings of a spiral. “And that’s all I really want. They didn’t want me in their holy earth, and frankly, I didn’t want to be there either. If their ideal world is one without us, then let us find our own world, free of them.”

Theodore looked away. They both knew where this conversation was inevitably headed. The unspoken message in the words.

Finally, Sergei said it. “I just don’t know why you’re still with them – “

“I can’t, Sergei. You know, you know I can’t.” Theodore squeezed his eyes closed.

“But why? They’re hurting you. They always have been, from the moment your father put you up on that pulpit and made you read words you didn’t understand from that lectern – “

“It’s my life, Sergei!” Theodore cried. “Without the Church, without God, what would I be? Who would I have?”

“You would have me.”

The words stunned Theodore into silence. Slowly, his shoulders fell.

“We could go anywhere, Teddy. Anywhere away from here. Together. I could bring you with me. Don’t you want that?”

… I do, Theodore thought. I do so, so badly.

“I don’t need a Christian burial. I don’t need to be laid to rest as just another one of God’s creatures, whittling myself down until I fit into the parameters of His conditional love. I never needed that.” Sergei looked Theodore straight in the eyes. “I don’t exist to placate those who want something from me. And I don’t think you do, either.”

“I do not whittle myself.” Theodore flicked a bitter glance at Sergei. “I cannot simply abandon my duties for a personal affair. I serve a purpose higher than myself--”

“All you do is whittle! All you do is serve!” Sergei burst. “I saw you grow thinner every day! You’d whittled yourself down until you could snap like a twig, and yet you worship the knife that carves you still! Hell, sometimes it feels as if your church can do no wrong in your eyes, even when they’re denying a holy burial to a man because he doesn’t love the same – “

Silence came over the woods once more. Fireflies blinked like yellow embers in the blue dust of moonlight, and crickets sang distantly their discordant tune.

“… Teddy…” Sergei said, his voice soft and warm. Delicate. Apologetic.

Theodore broke away from him, wandering a few steps forward. He needed to collect himself.

“Teddy, I didn’t mean – I… I’m sorry.”

Theodore put his hand on the twisted cypress to steady himself. He slowly sat down beside it, tracing his fingers along the warped bark.

“I remember planting this.” He said. “The thought of forgetting where you were made me sick. I couldn’t bear to… to lose you again.” Theodore took a bough in his fingers, pouring over the needle-like leaves. “I planted it over your heart. Two years ago.” Theodore sighed, lost in reverie. “I came every day to this spot after mass. In the night, while the town slept, I would lie here, half hoping the cold would take me – take me to you – but knowing my immortal soul would be damned to wander restless on unblessed ground. Laying there, in the dirt, knowing you were below me, an eternity wandering with you seemed more merciful than another day in my empty home.”

Sergei knelt beside Theodore. Theodore continued, not acknowledging or simply not noticing the gesture.

“But then… then, on that night the moon was black as pitch and the veil was so thin you could feel it when you breathed, you rose from that grave, like the son of God himself. And I was terrified, but you were beautiful. So pale and beautiful, like the moon, but so cold and so still and…”

Theodore trailed off. Sergei put a hand on his shoulder.

“Why are you telling me this, love?”

Theodore looked down. “I’m afraid, Sergei. I can’t be a new man, like you. I have… so many people in town need me to – “

“Theodore,” Sergei said in his downy soft, ever-comforting voice. “Look at me. Every single person in that church, in that town, who told you they would keep you safe as long as you behaved were already hurting you. Strip away their words – all the obligations, the expectations, the rituals, the routines, the normalcy. With all of those gone from your mind, what do you want?”

Theodore paused. Truly banishing such things from his mind felt like banishing his skin from his body: an agonizing, impossible task. What was he but obligation? If no one was around towant, toneed him, to ask of him a favor, or forgiveness, or penance, would he exist at all? Or was he only what others make of him, an apparition that would fall into shadow and dust once he becomes obsolete?

“I want to go with you.” Theodore said, his voice little more than a whisper. “More than anything. I want to be with you and only you, I want to be together without fear, I want to…” He was choking back tears now, determined not to cry in front of Sergei tonight. Sergei squeezed Theodore’s hands.

“And I do, as well! Is that not enough?” Sergei seemed to light up at his words, a light in his eye not unlike the glow of the fireflies around them. “Is it not enough that we love each other and wish to be away? What more could love be, other than the letting go of old hurt and embracing of new light? You have let yourself be bled by these leeches, and now you are sullen and pale. We can heal, together.”

“But…” Theodore hesitated. “Just… disappear? What would they make of it? What about poor Mina, my wife?”

Sergei looked Theodore in the eyes earnestly. “If she loves you truly, she will want what is best for you. And this place…” He gestured to the direction of the church. “This place is not good for anyone.”

Theodore looked down at their intertwined hands, feeling the difference in temperature. He ran his thumb along the ridges of Sergei’s knuckles. Slowly, he nodded, his eyes squeezed shut as a tear fell to the ground. “I want to come with you. Take me with you.”

With that, Sergei pulled Theodore in for a kiss, which warmed them both more than any sun ever could. Sergei looked him in the eye, dusting his cheeks with butterfly kisses. “Let us go, then. Beyond the veil.”

#flash fiction #drama #short story #creative writing #religious trauma #religious imagery