#the moon the clear sky the stars.... the chill of the night. how lonely it is knowing that the warmth you knew once doesn't belong to you.

[gothdaddyissues]

The Devil Came to a Small Town

Catch up here: | Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6

A Ghost AU Fanfic - Cardinal Copia/Female OC

The Satanic Church of Emeritus moves into an old Abbey on the outskirts of a bougie small town. Sister Imperator and the shy Cardinal Copia strike up a business relationship with Isabelle, the local witchy shop owner. This sets in motion a series of events that uncovers long-hidden secrets, solves mysteries, and unites the town and Church against a common enemy. And also: two lonely people fall in love...

TAGS: Glacially-slow slow burn. Lots of OCs. Romantic fluff. Mutual pining. Sex. Violence. Humor and melancholy in equal measure. Ghoul hijinx. All the Papas are alive and well, and very silly. Small-town weirdness. Drug and alcohol use. Bad language. Marginally accurate witchcraft. Very-likely-inaccurate religious imagery and practices. Magic, psychic abilities, and prophetic visions. Intolerance and discrimination. A happy ending will happen...

Chapter 7 is now up!

Read on Ao3 or below the cut... (~5100 words)

October 7

She ran, her feet pounding the frozen ground. The light dusting of snow on the forest floor was illuminated by the moon above, bathing everything in an iridescent blue glow. The trees soared high into the clear night sky, cradling the stars in their bare, spindly branches. It had been a night of celebration and reverence - a night of worship under the full moon - quickly transformed into a night of terror when they came looking for her.

So she ran, deep as she could into the woods, hoping they would not follow, hoping they would never find her. She could barely catch her breath, her heart slamming in her chest, but she dared not stop. She was running for her life.

The chill air bit at her cheeks, her ears, her fingers. She was so, so cold. She was further into the forest than she had ever been. Nothing familiar here, no bearings. And still, she ran. It was her only option.

"Bella...."

It was his voice. Whispered, drifting through the trees on the wind, meant only for her to hear.

"Bella!" More urgent this time.

He was close. She slowed herself as she came to a small clearing. Gasping, frigid air searing her lungs, she leaned against a tree trunk to hold herself up. She couldn't see him, but she sensed his presence, surrounding her like an embrace. Calm. Safe.

"How did you find me?" she asked, breathless.

"We are connected, you and I," he replied from the emptiness, "I'm with you always."

"Copia, help me."

He stepped out of the darkness — majestic in his long, black and gold military jacket, his skull paint crisp and pristine. Gloved hands reached for her, pulling her close. She melted into his strength, his warmth... his love. He wrapped her in his arms, resting his chin upon the top of her head, stroking his fingers through her tousled, wind-blown hair. The steady thrum of his heartbeat soothed her as she lay her cheek against his chest.

"Mia ragazza coraggiosa," he whispered, "Mia bella principessa. We cannot stay long. They are coming."

She could see the congregation far off through the trees. Their white robes shone in the moonlight, the orange flames from their torches shimmering pinpricks of light in the distance. They were chanting, their combined voices a dull, incomprehensible drone that grew louder and louder the closer they came. Like a poorly edited film, they were suddenly closer. Glitching again, closer still.

"Slut. Witch. Whore. Slut. Witch. Whore."

Copia took her hand tightly. "Come, my love. We must go. Rapidamente."

Together, they sprinted through the trees, but no matter how fast they ran, their pursuers were always right behind. Their voices were amplified by the wind, filling her with panic: "SLUT. WITCH. WHORE. BURN!"

She sensed another presence in the woods. Something animalistic. Demonic. A dozen shadowy figures paced in the darkness just beyond her vision, claws scraping against trees and frozen earth. Gurgling and growling. Angry. But they were not her enemies - they were guardians. They were at Copia's command, and he was leading their pursuers right to them.

Copia let go of her hand and pushed her ahead. "Go!" he ordered as he came to a stop. "Keep running. I will find you."

She turned back, reaching for him. The men in the white robes were almost on him, their faces covered with Venetian Bauta masks, their torches held high. "Copia, please!" she cried.

The demons emerged from the shadows around her, ready to protect their master and his lover. A pack of horned beasts with fangs and talons and long pointed tails. Their eyes and skin glowed incandescent in the pale light, various shades of purple, blue, orange, and green. They flew past her, tearing into the flesh of the white-robed men, snarling and vicious. There was blood. There were screams. She heard Copia again telling her to run, and this time, she obeyed.

She ran for what seemed like forever, but the screams still rang in her ears, the demon guardians chasing down every last villain who took after her. The forest grew dense as she sped blindly through the underbrush, branches scratching at her skin. Even without leaves, the trees blocked out most of the sky, with only thin slivers of moonlight cutting through here and there. She could barely see her hand in front of her face, lost in the darkness. She had to trust in Copia's promise that he would find her and return her to safety.

Finally, the screaming stopped. She slowed her pace somewhat, taking the opportunity to look back behind her. Nothing but pitch black night. 

A sudden thump sent her flying backward, hard onto the ground with the wind knocked out of her. She had run headlong into something solid concealed in the dark. Dazed, she pulled herself onto her hands and knees, and reached out her hand; it brushed against hard stone. She slid her hand up to feel more stones, bricked together and covered with fuzzy moss. A solid mass in front of her. A wall? She had no idea how high it rose or how wide it spanned. She’d reached a dead end. 

Her entire body ached and she was shivering in the cold. All around her was silence, save for her shuddering breaths. Terrified, disoriented, she wanted to cry out for Copia but thought better than to draw attention to herself. Instead, she wrapped her shaky arms around her torso in a feeble attempt to keep warm.

Then she heard the footsteps. The soft crunch of boots on the snow behind her. Copia? She scrambled to her feet and spun around. Her stomach dropped. A lone man, clad in a hooded white cassock, his face hidden behind a masquerade mask, had found her. "Slut. Witch. Whore." She tried to scream, but the man was on her, his hands around her throat. "Slut. Witch. Whore."

She clawed futilely at his wrists as she gasped for breath, and when that didn't work, went for his face with fists. She punched at him hard, dislodging the mask and sending it to the ground. The hood of his cassock obscured his eyes, but she could just make out his dark skin and white beard. "Slut! Witch! Whore!" he roared.

She was dizzy, losing consciousness, going limp under the man's grip. But his chokehold suddenly loosened, distracted by the sound of branches breaking, pounding footfalls, and beastly growling getting closer fast. The burliest demon yet, its skin pearly grey, burst through the brush and tackled the robed man, dragging him to the ground and tearing into him with its razor-sharp claws. Screams filled her ears again, and she was falling, faint, spatters of blood wetting her face from the carnage beside her.

Before she hit the ground, Copia caught her, lifting her into his arms. He cradled her against him, his hand on her cheek. "Bella? Wake up. Wake up!"

Isabelle's eyes shot open to see Poe sitting on her chest, licking and pawing at her face. The cell phone on her bedside table was ringing and vibrating, the 'old phone' ringtone blaring at full volume. The cat meowed angrily, annoyed by the shrill sound.

"Okay, okay," she grumbled, fumbling for the device in her half-awake state, the dream still clinging to her. She was bleary-eyed, couldn't make out the number on the call display, wasn't quite sure what time or even what day it was. But she managed to answer, her voice hoarse and barely working. "Hello?"

"Uh, Izzy?" There was a man's voice on the other end, "Hi, it's Alex, across the street. I woke you up, didn't I? I'm so sorry. I tried calling you a little while ago but there was no answer."

As he spoke, she nudged Poe off of her, struggling to sit up and look at the clock. The sun was up - it was morning. Her first thought was that maybe she overslept. But Ari would have called her if that was the case, not the man who owned the antique shop opposite her. She blinked a few times to clear her vision and saw it was just after 8 a.m. "Oh... uh, hi Alex. Yeah, it's okay, no worries. I'd be getting up soon anyways." She rubbed at her face, willing herself to wake up faster. "What's up?"

"I guess that means you haven't been outside yet?"

His words broke sleep's spell hard and fast, hitting her like a bucket of cold water. Something was wrong. 'Good news sleeps 'til noon,' her mom always said. "No. Oh no... what happened?" She shuffled out of bed and to the window. It faced Main Street and Alex's shop. All seemed normal outside from her vantage point; she could see Alex standing outside his door, his cell phone pressed to his ear as he looked across the street.

"You got hit with some vandalism overnight," he said, his voice soft and apologetic.

"Shit," Izzy muttered, "Again? Is it bad?" She raked her fingers through her hair to tame the bedhead and grabbed a zip-up hoodie off of the chair nearby. She needed to see the damage. At least her pajama pants were somewhat respectable.

"Well," Alex began, "You've had worse, but it's definitely not good."

In the living room now, she stuffed her feet into the closest pair of shoes and took her keys off the hook by the door. "I'm on my way down. I'll see you in a sec," she told him, ending the call.

It was a chilly morning, and thankfully the streets were mostly quiet. She hoped that not too many people had gone by and seen the aftermath; she'd already suffered enough public embarrassment at the coffee shop the week prior. By the time she got down the stairs and around the front of the building, Alex was on her side of the street, giving her a sympathetic look as she took it all in.

An entire carton of eggs had been thrown at the storefront. The metal gate did its job of protecting the windows - nothing broken that she could see. Eggshells and gooey debris splayed across the glass, in the crevices of the gate, and all over the sidewalk. But more distressing were the slurs spraypainted over the gate itself, in giant letters: slut, witch, whore.

Slut. Witch. Whore.

"Oh..." Izzy whispered, her voice trembling, "Oh my god..." Panic, confusion, and anger all welled up inside her, and she put a shaky hand over her mouth. A nasty mess. Plus the words from her dream plastered on her storefront, distressing her more than anything else. What the fuck…? But it wasn't like she could tell this to the nice man across the street without making herself sound completely unhinged.

She felt Alex’s hand on her shoulder. "This is awful Izzy, I know. I'm so sorry. I just got to the shop and saw it. Not a great way to start your day. But I thought it better to let you know as soon as possible. I hate having to be the one to tell you about it."

"No, hey, don't apologize. Thank you for letting me know, I do appreciate it. Really."

"I can help you clean up if you need a hand," he offered, "I know you don't open for a couple of hours yet."

She was grateful for his invitation but was reluctant to accept it. Alex was a kind soul, a bow-tie-wearing, nerdy, goody-two-shoes type, always ready with a dad joke or some historical trivia. The string of expletives she wanted to unleash over this situation would likely shock him to his very core. Probably best for their acquaintance if she saved him from witnessing it.

"Alex, you're so sweet," she began, "But I know you open soon and I don't want to keep you. Let me call Ari and get him over here... if we need any extra help, I'll let you know."

"You sure? I don't mind, really!"

"Yes, I'm sure. I really do appreciate the offer though. If I get stuck, I'll call you." She didn't want to sound rude... but fuck, she needed some time to scream into the void before she could even begin thinking about cleaning up. "And I should probably call and make a police report first too, in case there’s anything they can do." It would be a futile, useless endeavor - chances are they wouldn't even show up when they found out it was her shop - but it did buy her a little more time to calm down.

"Oh yeah, good idea," he agreed, before giving her a nudge with his elbow, "Good luck with that, eh?" He knew as well as she did how the entire police force was bought and paid for by a certain group of people in this town. "I'm right across the street if you need anything - anything at all - okay?"

"Okay. Thank you again." She managed a wave and a feeble smile as he returned to his shop. With a sigh, she turned back to the disaster on her doorstep. "Fuck," she muttered under her breath, "Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck." I bet it was those fucking punks that harassed the Sisters yesterday, thinking they were getting me back for giving them shit.

She scanned the area, looking for signs of anything she could use to prove who did this - footprints or something left behind. Nothing. She took out her phone and snapped a few pictures up close, then backed onto the street to capture the whole storefront at once. From there, she could see Poe sitting in the bedroom window upstairs, looking down at her with the disdain of a cat whose breakfast was late. It unsettled her to realize this happened right underneath her while she slept - with the windows open, even - and she didn't hear a damn thing...

Before she stepped back onto the sidewalk, she noticed the security camera on the nearby light post. The previous year, the town council had convinced residents that installing cameras all along Main Street was needed to discourage petty crimes and keep businesses safe. She’d been skeptical, considering the ineffectual Police were the ones doing the monitoring, and also because the company hired to do the installation was a subcontractor of Andrew Francis' land development company. And Andrew Francis was best buddies with the town's mayor - it was all blatant cronyism.

Regardless of her feelings on the matter, there was a camera every 15 feet or so on both sides of the street, and the one closest to her was aimed right at the corner of Main and Richmond, directly in front of her shop. That was the best chance to prove who had vandalized her property. But it was going to mean getting the police involved.

She made her way back upstairs and dialed the non-emergency number. An extremely disinterested woman answered the phone: "Police."

"Yes, hi," Izzy began, "I'm calling to report some vandalism that occurred at my shop overnight. There were slurs spray painted onto my storefront."

"Okay." Izzy heard her begin typing. "Address?"

"The corner of Main and Richmond. Shadow and Light Metaphysical Boutique."

The typing stopped. "I see," the woman replied. "Were any other businesses affected?"

"No, just mine."

"Hmm.... so you were targeted. Sounds like something personal," the dispatcher said, the hint of a sneer in her voice.

Izzy figured the call would go this way, but she persisted as calmly as possible. "Be that as it may, it was still an act of vandalism. Will you be sending someone out to investigate?"

"All of our officers are currently dealing with other matters. I can pass your information along when someone becomes available."

"Any idea when that might be?" Izzy asked through gritted teeth.

"It will be when someone becomes available," the dispatcher repeated.

Izzy squeezed her eyes shut and pinched the bridge of her nose, hoping to quell a rapidly blossoming headache. "What about the cameras?" she asked, "One of the town's security cameras is aimed right at the front of my shop. Would you be able to pull the footage off that and see if we can identify who did this?"

"That would be up to the officer who investigates the incident. Who is yet to be determined. I will pass the information along..."

"...when someone becomes available, yeah, I got that part." Izzy interrupted. "I've taken pictures of the damage. Can I start cleaning it up, or do I have to wait for Officer Yet-To-Be-Determined to come?" Oh, she was so close to losing it.

"Suit yourself," the woman replied, "And mind your tone, ma'am."

Mind MY tone?? "Oh, I do apologize," Izzy said sarcastically. "Thank you ever so much for your help. Your assistance has been invaluable, ma'am." She stabbed the phone with her finger to hang up the call and flung it down on the couch beside her with an exasperated growl. She instantly regretted being so snarky. But being nice wouldn't have mattered  - the dispatcher’s attitude was set the moment she heard the shop name. FUCK. 

The stress had her head throbbing. She reached for the joint she’d left in the coffee table ashtray the night before, a calming blend she enjoyed when she needed to settle her mind after a long day. She lit it, closed her eyes, and took a few small hits; not enough to get high, but just enough to take the edge off. Would it help? Maybe. Definitely wouldn’t hurt.

She heard the pitter-pat of paws, Poe jumping up on the coffee table and plopping himself down, blinking his big green eyes at her. Then a soft 'tap-tap' on her knee, the cat trying to get her attention. When she opened her eyes, she was met with an inquisitive "Mmrrrow?"

"Yes, yes baby, I know. Let's get your breakfast," she sighed, scratching his head. For now, she could focus on something else: getting the cat fed, brushing her teeth, putting her hair in a ponytail, and finding some clothes. An old pair of paint-stained jeans and a worse-for-wear Metallica t-shirt was her standard uniform for grunt work like this. And she needed to call Ari and start the cleanup before the whole town saw the debacle.

Izzy dialed his number and it rang at least five times before he finally answered. "Hrgrarlo?" he croaked sleepily.

She was pacing her living room, back and forth in front of her altar space. His awakening was about to be as rude as hers. "Ari?"

He groaned. "Iz? What time is it?"

"8:30-ish. I need..."

"Too early," he slurred, "Call later."

"Aristotle! Wake up!" she snapped. "The store got vandalized last night. I need your help to clean up."

"Wha...?" He cleared his throat, finally rousing now, "What happened? You ok?"

"Yeah, I'm okay. But it's a fucking mess. We got egged, and the gate got spray painted."

Slut. Witch. Whore. It echoed in her brain, filling her with dread.

"Shit, okay. I'll be there as soon as I can. Give me 20 minutes.”

"Okay, I'll meet you out front. Thanks."

She hung up the phone and continued to pace, images from the dream consuming her. The white-robed men chasing her down with torches, wanting to burn her. Demons protecting her, killing for her. And Copia in his skull paint, right in the middle of it all, infiltrating her dreams again.

Slut. Witch. Whore.

"Why is this happening?" she asked out loud. "I still don't understand." She looked at the statue of Lilith on her altar as she paced, rolling the anxious thoughts around and around in her head. Things were going so well. Things were calm, people were finally leaving us be. Then I met Sister Imperator and everything's been fucked up since then! The weird dreams. The coffee shop last week, the Sisters yesterday, now this… I'm trying to be kind. Friendly. The people from the Church seem like good people. I want to help them. And Copia. I want… Ugh! How much shit will I have to eat? Is it worth it? Why am I putting myself through this?

As she passed the altar again, Izzy saw movement out of the corner of her eye, something falling from the top of it to the floor. A piece of paper. She stopped, bending down to pick it up. 

It was the Cardinal's business card. 

She’d placed it under Lilith's statue the week before - completely underneath the statue, she was sure of it. His familiar energy danced around her as she held the card, the same frisson of pleasure she felt when in his presence. That feeling of calm and safety she’d felt in her dream when he embraced her…

Or maybe it was the weed kicking in.

"I'm with you always.”

 She wanted a reason why this was happening, and Lilith answered: Copia.

“Okay then,” she mumbled, sliding the card back underneath the statue’s base. If her goddess was conspiring to bring her and Copia together, she wasn’t about to argue. But she hoped it was worth it… “Message received,” she kissed the tips of her fingers and touched them to Lilith’s feet, “Thank you.”

With a resigned sigh, Isabelle put on her work boots and made her way downstairs to begin dealing with the mess. She unlocked the shop’s back door, turned off the alarm system, and went to the storage closet for cleaning supplies: gloves, rags, scrub brushes, garbage bags, and spray paint remover. She also needed a bucket full of hot, soapy water to wash away all the dried-up egg gunk. The buckets were under the sink in the tiny kitchenette, and as she crossed the length of the back of the shop, she glanced through the doorway that led to the shop floor. People were outside the front windows, on the other side of the gate. She did a double take, thinking it was a crowd of gawkers. 

But no. Six Ghouls in their shiny silver masks were there, scrubbing and scraping, hard at work cleaning on her behalf. The Church of Emeritus had come to her rescue.

Incredulous, Isabelle went out the back door and made her way around to the front of the shop. They turned to her when she came around the corner. “Uh, hi,” she said tentatively.

She recognized Aether right away. He put down the rag he was using and greeted her with a happy wave. The five others joined in. They’d brought their own cleaning supplies, including a heavy-duty paint remover far superior to the kind she used. 

“What the heck are you guys doing here? I mean… I appreciate you coming to help, but how did you even know this happened?” she asked.

Aether pulled his phone out of his pocket, typing quickly before turning the screen to her.

“One of us saw the mess this morning,” it said, “And so we came to help clean up. We’ve had to deal with this sort of thing before too, unfortunately.”

“Unfortunately,” Izzy sighed. They had already made great progress, doing a faster and more thorough job than she and Ari could have done on their own. After all the stress and anxiety of the morning, this simple act of kindness brought all her emotions to the surface. “You guys,” she said, her voice breaking, “You didn’t have to… this is so wonderful of you. I don’t know what to say.”

Aether typed again: “You don’t have to say anything, Miss Izzy. It’s our pleasure to help! You’ve already done SO MUCH for us, we’re just paying it back. Like you told the Cardinal, we take care of each other.”

She blinked back tears. “Yes, I did say that, didn’t I? And I meant it.” Aether gave her a gentle touch on the shoulder and she felt relief for the first time today. “Thank you so much, Aether, and all of you, for the help.”

“Let me introduce you to everyone,” Aether typed. He went down the line of Ghouls, giving her the names of each: “Rain, Mountain, Sunshine, Cirrus, and Dewdrop. But you can call him Dew.”

“Hello,” Izzy greeted. “I think I recognize you, Dew. And Cirrus too. I met you both in the coffee shop last week, didn’t I?”

The mention of the word “coffee” made Dew hang his head and cover his face with his hands. Aether gave him a playful nudge on the shoulder. “We don’t talk about coffee around Dew anymore,” he typed, “It doesn’t agree with him.” 

Izzy nodded, sympathetic. “Honestly, I understand… Since that day, coffee hasn’t agreed with me either. But I still want to thank you for your kindness.”

Dew placed his hands over his heart and bowed, the same gesture that Aether often used, acknowledging her thanks.

“I had no idea there were so many of you,” Izzy remarked. 

“There are 15 of us all together, for now at least,” Aether told her, “More wanted to come and help but Sister Imperator needed some of us to stay behind this morning.”

“I hope the Cardinal is managing alright without you,” she teased. She couldn’t help but smile at the thought of him, wondering if maybe he had encouraged Aether to go as a way of checking up on her…

The sound of hurried footsteps approached from around the side of the building, and Izzy saw each of the Ghouls perk up, on alert. Aether stepped in front of her, shielding her from whomever it was, while the others surrounded her protectively. She felt the tension radiating off them as they stood guard, and the faint rumble of… growling?

Ari burst around the corner, still disheveled from sleep, and skidded to a stop, face-to-face with Aether. “Jesus fucking…” he gasped, startled, “What the fuck?”

The Ghouls closed in around her. None of them, save for Aether, knew who Ari was or that he was her friend. She saw Aether touch Ari’s arm to steady him before he waved off the other Ghouls, showing them there was no threat. Aether pointed to Ari, made motions with his hands like he was drawing in the air, and then mimed pinning something up on a wall. He then pointed back and forth between Ari and Izzy and brought his hands together to make the shape of a heart. The others nodded, backing off as their wariness eased. 

“I ask again: what the fuck?” Ari looked at Izzy, confused.

“It’s okay, Ari, it’s okay. They came here to help clean up. They’re just being extra protective because of what happened and because they don’t know you. Aether told them you’re the artist that made the poster we gave him, and that you’re my friend. Right?” Aether nodded, happy that Izzy interpreted him correctly.

Ari was in disbelief. “You understood all that?” 

“Yes, of course,” Izzy said, unsure as to why he didn’t. “You just have to pay attention.” She grabbed Ari’s wrist and pulled him closer as she turned back to the Ghouls. “So this is Ari, he’s my best friend and he works here with me. He’s cool, okay? No need to worry. Ari, this is Rain, Mountain, Sunshine, Cirrus, and Dew. And you already know Aether.” She nudged him in the side and whispered, “Say hi.”

“Uh, hello,” Ari said with an awkward wave. “Nice to meet you.”

Aether typed quickly and showed his phone to Ari: “They like your art!”

“Oh… well, thank you!” he replied, “And thank you for coming to help, we appreciate it.”

“Listen,” Izzy began, “I’m going to go inside and get some soap and water to help clean all this off. We’ll be right back, alright?” 

Aether and the Ghouls all gave her an enthusiastic thumbs-up and returned to their work as she ushered Ari to the back of the building. Before she could say anything to him, he pulled her into a tight hug.

“Fuck fuck fuck,” he swore as he embraced her, “You’re okay, right? I can’t believe this happened *again* Iz.”

“Yeah, I’ll be okay,” she replied, hugging him back just as hard, “I’m pretty sure it was those rotten teenagers that messed with the Sisters yesterday, trying to get back at me. But I’ll never be able to prove it, though.”

“Did you call the cops?”

“Yeah…”

“And?”

Izzy pulled away then and gave him a telling look before opening the back door for him. “It went about as well as you’d think. They’re doing jack shit. Even though there’s a camera right outside the shop. I may as well not’ve bothered. But, at least we’ve got some help cleaning up…” She motioned to the front window where the Ghouls were working away. “If I had known they were coming, I would’ve let you keep sleeping. Sorry…”

Ari seemed as stunned as she had been. “So they just showed up on their own?”

“Yep, and they’re doing an awesome job.” She squirted some soap into the bottom of a bucket and turned on the hot water, watching them through the doorway while waiting for it to fill. 

“Getting by with a little help from our friends, huh?” Ari observed.

Isabelle nodded. She was so grateful for their kindness. But now she had to worry about what sort of repercussions this would bring. If word got around town that the Satanic Church was at her service, would her haters be less inclined to hassle her, or would they double down on their hostility? How was she going to play this?

A fleeting recognition, familiarity, prickled down her spine as she observed the Ghouls. The protectiveness they’d had over her? She recognized it, felt it before. Images from her dream - those demon things saving her from the torch-wielding mob - flashed through her mind, her brain attempting to connect the dots while ignoring the rapidly filling bucket. Ari reaching around her to shut off the kitchen faucet jolted her back into reality.

“I’ll take this outside,” he said, not noticing she had spaced out, “You bring the sponges and stuff, okay?”

Oh, uh… yeah, okay,” she stammered, “I’ll be right there.”

Isabelle took a moment to collect herself. It was almost nine o’clock. The town was coming to life. People would see her and Ari outside with the Ghouls. People would talk. Her association with the Church of Emeritus would be indisputable. This was the tipping point; she’d have to choose her allegiance…  

She recalled the feelings of safety and calm that enveloped her in Copia’s presence. The Ghouls had gone out of their way to come to her aid. Even her Goddess had given her a definitive sign. It all felt decided on her behalf.

I guess I’m on Team Dark Side. I wonder if they like cookies?

#ghost #the band ghost #ghost fanfic #my fanfic #ghost fanfiction #my fanfiction

[ladystarksneedle]

When night comes

(An Alys rivers fic-let. Alys x Aemond if you squint)

Warnings: Mentions of blood, gore, death, child loss.

Word count: 1292

When night comes, the scorched earth breathes a sigh of relief, a temporary reprieve from the all consuming fires since dawn. The rivers hiss, with smoke billowing through every brook, shrouding the clear sky in a cloudy haze. The sky is silent for a while, before a lone raven perched on the castle weirwood caws, alerting her of his arrival before she can hear the leathery flap of wings and the giant gust of accompanying wind rattling the windows. Vhagar is a mighty beast of a time long gone. Austere and ferocious with a fire lurking underneath, much like her rider. Clad in night black armour dusted with soot, the night seems to welcome him into her embrace, save for the silver strands of his braid which gives him away. His hair shines like the stars littered through the night sky though he’s much like the moon himself. With his waxing and waning temper, his sharp edges and imperfections, his presence feels ethereal. He’s like an eclipse, threatening to consume everything in his path. As he descends from his mount, the soldiers shrink away, parting like the clouds he glides through all day, as he makes his way to her. She has never been one to cower, however caught in the piercing gaze of his lone eye she feels a chill pass through her.

She’s always been told she has a piercing gaze. Whispers have followed her around Harrenhal, about her evasive and chilling demeanor, casting her as an eerie and sentient creature. She’d never understood what it truly meant till she saw him. He carries himself with a confidence known to her. She’s seen all kinds of men in the life she’s lived. Proud and miserly, angry yet cowardly men, confident yet craven beneath, but never before has she seen the likes of him, in possession of such surety in himself inspite of having an insight into his upcoming doom. It takes a different kind of person to know how their life will end and to live each day with a renewed purpose and vigor directed at achieving their destiny. She’d considered herself special for a time, having the ability to see and hear mysterious things, which had been with her as long as she could remember. The voices were a part of her very being, shrouding her in an embrace of darkness and detachment. She’d made her peace with the life she was supposed to live and the purpose she was yet to fulfil, however she didn’t always possess the same level of determination that she now had . Long ago, when she was first confronted with her reality, she had been scared and unsure. She’d sought out a friend, a lover who she’d bared herself to, body and mind which had ultimately turned out to be a mistake. Fear ended up clouding whatever he’d felt for her, leaving her with no choice but to take measures to ensure it wouldn’t take root. Harrenhal was known for its curses and strong emotions had a way of seeping into its walls. You could get struck at any moment and fear was an emotion ever round the corner, waiting to creep in and wreak havoc on the minds of simple men. The impact of her actions was lasting. He had been a pleasant fellow, well liked by some of the kitchen maids despite knocking up a scullery maid on the side during the time she’d spent with him. How she’d managed to miss that, given her keen powers of observation, was an insult still fresh after many years. Nevertheless he’d turned up at the back of the stables a week later, rotting and being picked at by the ravens she’d come to admire. She’d stuck to herself after that, mostly. Granted she had lovers at times, even a husband, droll and harmless as he was, but her soul had been locked and thrown into an abyss since that incident. She considered herself a part of the Widows tower for much of her time afterwards, having lost child after child followed by her husband, soon forgotten by the castle, drifting and endlessly alone.

She’d realised later on that it wasn’t death that had come for her soul, as punishment for her revenge, rather she’d been asleep, resting and lying in wait for the fulfilment of her future. The first sign had arrived in the form of a red beast with the shrillest roar which almost shook the castle walls. A vision in black and red, this stranger of the night, a veteran of many a battle fought had sought refuge with her, not in the way she had preferred, but she’d had his ear for a time, to know it was time for her soul to wake.

“Blood calls to blood”. An old saying she’d read eons ago, upon which she’d pondered over time, seeking the answer out in places any normal person would be unwilling to. Summoning and enchanting, men, women and creatures of all kinds, trying to find the key to what lay ahead along with a moment of solitude, reprieve from the screams of the night she’d become used to, but to no avail.

The Rogue’s presence had been a welcome balm to her inner turmoil. He was as unpredictable as the wind, like a demon waiting to strike from the shadows, chaotic but calculated, enough to unnerve even her. She was glad in the end, when he took his leave. As much as he was a part of her future, she’d grown to miss the voices of warning in her head and his was not the blood which called to her.

Her soul singed nearly a year later. Wreckage. Carnage. The screams and horror did nothing but excite her that fateful night. The rivers of blood that flowed through the hallways, the terror that seized the castle made her more feel alive than she’d ever felt.

“When the weirwood weeps rivers of blood,

Burning flames shall lick the barren,

Till the eye which brings the flood,

A new strength to lift the famine.”

She felt as if she’d seen the light that night, illuminating the walls with swatches of white intermixed with red. She stood at the side as women wailed and cursed, silently observing the vision before her with a hidden smile. He’d noticed her shortly, regarding her with a raised brow and had asked that she brought to him. She’d fought the urge to cower, not out of fear but out of what was to come. He was a man of few words, her dragon, both then as he was now. He didn’t like delays and meaningless placation and her pleas were often left verbally unanswered. Touch had always been enough for them to fill each other’s presence, glances and grasps through the night, threatening to consume the fire which burned within both of them. The voices never hushed after him, much unlike she’d anticipated. She could feel their pull, even more so, whenever she lay with him, distorted screams chanting the same thing over and over again. In the aftermath of their own carnage she’d tell him all that she’d seen and heard and he’d hum is approval as he traced patterns onto her bare arms. In the night they could bask in the pull of the unknown, in the relishment of flesh with the hanging knowledge of their fates. Dawn as it broke again, would bring fire and unrelenting fury. The famine would not be quenched till the flames threatened to burst through her.

“When night comes, hold your dragon close.

As debt comes due,

Enemies shall arise anew.

And cursed azure shall guard the shadows.”

Harrenhal would have a new dragon soon.

#house of the dragon #alys rivers #hotd imagine #alys x aemond #alysmond #aemond x alys #zae's fics #headcanon #women of awoiaf #alys fics

[tmd-clangen]

MOON -1 | BLOOD MOON

SOLITUDE | PART THREE

part one | part two | part three

Beside Leappaw, Irispaw and Bushkit laid comfortably in a sleeping pile, with Serpentkit curled up next to them. Leappaw sat at the edge of what he decided now to call the softbody, staring out the see-through part of the monster. His gaze was frozen on the crimson sky and the glittering stars, and the blood-red moon sunk at the edge of the horizon.

He couldn’t sleep. He was exhausted, but he couldn’t sleep. Worry bit at his nerves and kept him awake, waiting for any kind of sign that Poolgleam would return soon.

Leappaw rose to his paws and jumped off the softbody, landing with a quiet thmmp and padding toward the monster’s open wound. It was snowing outside now, though only slightly. He stepped out onto the white ground and walked toward the center of the clearing.

“Poolgleam,” he murmured aloud, sitting again in the snow. “Where are you? Please… come back soon. Please.”

A sudden gust of wind blew around Leappaw, rustling all his fur and sending a cold chill through his body. Then, he heard a voice whisper,

“Worry not, young cat. Your cleric will be home soon.”

Leappaw jumped back up, staring around with wide eyes. “H- Hello?” he called out, “Who’s there? What—”

“Open your eyes to new horizons,” the strange voice called back again, echoing all around him from nowhere in particular. “But beware of what you have not yet seen.”

Fur puffed up with alarm, Leappaw cried, “Wait, what does that mean?!”

“Your path ahead is full of danger, devastation, and disaster.” His ears pinned against his head. The world felt like it was whirling around him, like he was somewhere else entirely. Like he was in a dream. He had to sit down so he wouldn’t fall over. “Keep your loved ones close and you will survive this. Keep us in your thoughts, and do not wait any longer.”

The chill dissipated. He stared off blankly, huffing with shock. Only when he regained his composure did he keep the words repeating in his mind. I have to remember this, I have to tell Poolgleam. Was that a message from the Cosmos?

Leappaw stared up at the sky again. A lone star streaked through the dark night.

It has to be.

-----

“Hey.”

Leappaw jumped from his sleep immediately with a light yelp. It took him a second to remember where he was before he realized he was on top of the softbody again, head laid on top of Irispaw’s back. Irispaw flinched from his own sleep at the exclaiming sound from Leappaw and grumbled drowsily. Leappaw looked around for the source of the voice before his eyes widened.

There was Poolgleam, standing a fox-length away from the softbody and looking up at them all. He still looked just as tired as before, just as out of it; but he smiled softly. Leappaw gasped with relief and brought himself up in an instant. “Poolgleam!” he cried.

“W- Whuh?!” Irispaw came fully conscious at the call of the cleric’s name, his eyes snapping open. He saw Poolgleam quickly and let out his own relieved cry. “Poolgleam! Oh, you’re back! I was so—”

Irispaw nearly slipped off the softbody with how quickly he jumped off of it, totally leaving Bushkit behind. It didn’t matter in a few moments, though, when Bushkit woke up fast as well. The peach-furred kitten yawned and blinked slowly, mumbling, “Mmm, nooo, few more minutes please…”

Leappaw decided to leave Bushkit alone for the moment, chuckling, before following after Irispaw. Irispaw butted his head into Poolgleam and purred, which the cleric returned and closed his eyes. “Poolgleam, I’m so so glad you’re back,” Irispaw whimpered, “I was so worried about you—”

“Worried?” Poolgleam meowed, as if that came by complete surprise. “Why, was something the matter…?”

Irispaw sniffled and nodded a little. “You’ve just— you’ve just been so distant from us I was scared you wanted to leave us and go die.”

Poolgleam’s eyes widened with ashamed realization before they fell tiredly again. “Oh, Irispaw, no… I’m so sorry, hun,” he murmured. “I’ve just… I was so focused on trying to find us someplace safe to stay, but I hardly thought about anything else. That’s completely on me.”

“So it’s not our fault…” Irispaw looked up at him, pleadingly. “Or my fault…?”

“No, not at all, Iris.” Poolgleam pulled Irispaw in even closer, and Irispaw wrapped his own forelegs around him. Leappaw could see him shaking slightly. “I’m very sorry. I promise that I care very much about you, and Leappaw, and Serpentkit and Bushkit.”

Leappaw purred and took a few steps forward to curl himself around the two of them as well. One of Poolgleam’s legs shifted to fall over Leappaw’s back. “At least, with the search I did last night,” Poolgleam remarked, “I know this place is as safe as it can be. The beasts can’t get past the shiningfence.”

“Shiningfence?” Leappaw inquired.

“The tall barrier around our new camp. Like a bramble wall, but practically unbreakable,” Poolgleam explained. “It’s made of metal and very hard to damage.”

“Ohhh,” Leappaw nodded, understanding. “Cool.”

After a few minutes, the apprentices both peeled away a little and Poolgleam kept up his smile. That was when Leappaw remembered: “Wait, Poolgleam, there’s something I have to tell you.”

“Yes, what is it?” Poolgleam invited.

“I think… I think I got a message from the Cosmos, last night,” Leappaw started, voice a little slow and uncertain. “I feel like what they told me was kind of concerning…”

Poolgleam blinked, looking more cautious now. His smile fell. “Did you see any ghost alongside the message?”

“No… the voice had no body,” Leappaw said. He took in a deep breath, then recited, “It told me, ‘Open your eyes to new horizons, but beware of what you have not yet seen. Your path ahead is full of danger, devastation, and disaster. Keep your loved ones close and you will survive this. Keep us in your thoughts, and do not wait any longer.’…”

Poolgleam’s brows furrowed, and he stared down at his paws. Irispaw stared at him with wide eyes. “The Cosmos spoke to you? Did it sound like anyone from…” Irispaw trailed off. Leappaw knew what he wanted to say.

Sadly, he shook his head. “It didn’t sound like anyone from the Gilded Colony. It was completely unfamiliar. Sounded vaguely feminine, and a bit older…” Leappaw detailed.

“I’ll keep that in mind. Perhaps she’ll return with another message at some other point,” Poolgleam said. He looked back at Leappaw. “Thank you for telling me this.”

“Of course, I figured it was probably… like really important,” Leappaw huffed a little laugh, “and you’re the cleric after all, so maybe you can figure it out better than my scramble-minded self did last night!”

“‘Do not wait any longer’?” Bushkit called from on top of the softbody, now properly awake. “On what? What the heck is that supposed to mean?”

Serpentkit now poked his head out from the top, too. “I’m kinda way more worried about the whole… death and destruction and disaster part,” he squeaked. “That sounds… really bad!”

“Well… she said we would survive this,” Irispaw interjected, “as long as we keep each other close.”

Leappaw smiled softly. “Well, that doesn’t sound hard at all.” 

The others met him with smiles and nods of their own. It was reassuring to know they all felt the same. Despite all they’d gone through, and everything that might still be coming for them…

“Hey, we’re all gonna be okay, okay? I promise it to you all,” Poolgleam spoke gently, beckoning Bushkit and Serpentkit down. The two kittens hopped down from the softbody and came over to be embraced by him. “I’m going to make sure we get through everything.”

Leappaw pressed close on one side of Poolgleam while Irispaw did on the other. He remembered the shooting star and smiled, understanding what he had to do.

And I’m going to help make sure we get through it, too.

#tmdclangen #moon -1 #clangen #gilded colony #leappaw #irispaw #[spoiler name] #serpentkit #bushkit #poolgleam

[cheerfulmelancholies]

Thanks for the tag @pluttskutt

I didn't get to do the one from last week so I'm posting that plus the current one.

The air was still as night watched over the woods. Though the sky was clear, the trees seemed to huddle together to blot out the light from the stars and crescent moon. A slight chill hung beneath the canopy and crawled into the lungs of the lone hiker. Twigs and leaves crunched beneath his boots, and each step felt heavier than the last. He was so, so tired, but he needed to find his way out. He wasn't prepared for camping and the longer he spent lost in the woods, the more it felt like the maw of a great beast closed around him.

"I can't believe you! After everything I've ever done this is how you repay me?!"

Ryan gulps and takes a step back, shoulders rising as he tries to sink into himself. "I'm really sorry, Laura, but I needed the money."

"And you didn't think to just ask me?"

"We both know you couldn't have afforded that kind of donation."

Tagging with zero pressure: @kyofsonder @dramaticnerdwithanxiety11 @winterandwords and open tag

Rules: write six sentences. That's it. It can be for anything you want, even if you just thought of it seconds ago.

#six sentence sunday #my writing #tag game #writeblr #writeblr community

[cordeliawhohung]

From My Corner of the Universe: Blue

Chapter Three: Blue

Find Chapter One Here

Warnings: nothing, really. language, no violence in this one. chill chapter.

wc: 5517

Waking up in a different world was not how you intended on starting your day. But wow, you can't deny that view.

On the nights when the orphanage felt suffocating, you would always find Avi on the roof. She would sit among the half broken playground equipment with her knees pulled to her chest, head tilted back to look at the sky. Her hair was much shorter back then; completely shaved and missing her classic, white bleached look. She didn’t have her optics back then, either, just the pure blue color of her eyes. 

“I can almost see them,” she would say, eyes blinking slowly.

You’d look up at the sky too and know she was lying. At most there was the dim glow of the red moon, suffocating on the smoke that haunted the skies long before you two were even brought into that world. Every now and then there would be the shining, sparkling lights of an airliner taking someone far more well off than you to places you could only ever dream of seeing, but even that was snuffed out too. Her lies weren’t malicious. They never were. If anything, they were just a little sad. 

“I’m going to see them one day. For real,” she would say, turning to look over her shoulder. “I mean it.” 

And you would giggle as you sat next to her, staring up at the sky with her. The dull blue neon lights would mix with the blood red moon, forming a pale purple that was almost pretty. Pretty in a sad way. Your eyes would scan the area, straining to look at the stars Avi so avidly wanted to see. 

You were met with no such wonder. 

“I don’t think the smoke will ever clear out in our lifetime,” you’d say. “I think we’re going to have this view for the rest of our lives.” 

“Well, I know that,” Avi would say, matter-of-fact. “I mean, I’m going to go to Mars. They say they want to start sending people there, you know? Soon even Olympus will be empty. There won’t be any fires there, and I can see as many stars as I want.” 

It was wishful thinking, really. They wouldn’t be sending people to space any time soon, despite how often the scientists talked about it. Too much trash orbiting the earth to safely send a ship out. Perhaps in a millenia when both you and the trash rotted away. At that point the fires might even die out and you and Avi could look at the stars from your graves.

“I’m going to take you with me,” Avi would claim triumphantly, as if she were some sort of hero. 

And you would smile, and it would hurt, and it would hurt Avi too. But you both would ignore it as your eyes were glued to the empty sky above you. There were no stars to comfort you, only the moon, just as lonely as you. 

“Or maybe Io… I think Io would be nice, too.” 

Earth-928

“You are a scientist, aren’t you? So you know what a diaphragm is, right?” an annoyed female voice asked, coaxing you from your slumber. 

“I don’t want to have this conversation,” a new, equally annoyed voice spoke up, this time male. 

“If you inject too much paralytic into someone, you know, the kind that paralyzes muscles, all of their muscles will become paralyzed. Including the diaphragm, which is sort of important for breathing.” 

“If you had heard what Stryker sounded like on the coms, you would have used a decent amount of venom, too!” the man retorted. “It sounded like an explosion had gone off!”

Their voices sounded far away and fuzzy, and you had to strain just to be able to hear them properly. Opening your eyes was even more difficult as you found yourself blinded by a terrible white light. You had never seen or felt a light as bright as that, not even in Olympus. It was as if you were being examined under a microscope; some specimen for someone to gawk at. 

“Don’t even get me started on the bruises on her neck. Between that and your venom, I’m surprised the poor thing even lived!” the woman continued chastising the stranger. 

“Don’t blame that on me,” the man warned, frustrated. 

“I never said you were the one who did it. What, guilty conscience much?” 

Eventually your eyes adjusted to the terrible light around you. The scent of alcohol stung your nose, but not the kind that you served at The Koi. It was stronger, more sterile smelling, a scent you caught off of Nova often after she got a new implant, or fitted one in someone else. Each breath you took was labored, as if you had to think about every single movement just to get any air in your lungs. 

And god, your body ached. Your throat felt even more swollen than it had earlier, and there was a terrible throbbing pain in your left shoulder. It was as if your entire body had been shoved into some terrible, cramped space for hours on end; like your muscles had been sapped of any strength you had. 

You forced your eyes to focus on your surroundings. First you were met with the lamp shining down on you. It reminded you of the lamps you’d see in movies when a doctor was operating on a patient. Large, blinding, and very much in your face. Saving your eyesight, you turned your head to the right and you saw a woman in a white lab coat. Her greying blonde hair was pulled back into a bun, and her arms were firmly crossed in front of her chest as she glared at something on your left. 

The woman, who you assumed was a doctor of sorts, stared daggers into the man on your left. He was much taller than you were anticipating, and you found your head leaning back some just to get a good look at his face. His clothes were odd, even by your standards. A dark blue, nearly black, suit covered his body completely, except for his face. Red markings lined his torso and arms, and there seemed to be a graphic of a skull-like spider on his chest. A strange glow seemed to be coming from the fabric, almost as if it wasn’t really there on his body in a way. His face was strong and angular, with a square set chin and cheeks that were rather gaunt. 

What really caught you off guard was the tone of his skin. Unless otherwise born that way, most citizens of Digi York had pale or ashen skin. It was impossible to really tan with the smoke blocking out the sun, and if you lived in the lower levels of the city, you were lucky to even see the sun at all. Unless you lived in Olympus, and were rich enough to use a tanning bed of sorts, you’d live most of your life with skin that would never be kissed by the sun, even of a synthetic kind. 

So that meant there was only one place you could be. 

“Am I in Olympus?” you asked, your voice more hoarse than you were expecting it to be. 

Any bickering in the room ceased, and the silence that ensued made you wish you had never even spoken in the first place. Both the man and woman on either side of you stared down at you, their expressions hard to read with the blinding light above your head. 

“Oh great,” the woman said, raising her head to look back up at the man, “now she thinks you’re a god or something.”

“Trust me,” a new voice spoke, “it’s not supposed to be a compliment.” 

This new voice caused you to freeze. It was familiar, but not in a good way. It wasn’t like the voice of an old friend, or something that sparked warmth. All you felt was a terrible pit in your stomach, and you found your head raising up until your eyes landed on him. He stood towards the end of your bed, arms crossed as he leaned with his back to the wall. Those eight lenses were still focused on you.

Spider-Man. 

Your head slammed back on the table as you relaxed your muscles. It took everything in you to even move that much, and you found yourself out of breath from just the effort alone. 

“Oh, fucking christ,” you breathed, closing your eyes. “No way. There’s no fucking way you caught me.” 

“I told you already, it’s nothing personal,” Spider-Man said, bored. 

“Fuck you.” 

The doctor blinked a few times as she looked back and forth between you and Spider-Man. Her arms relaxed to her sides as she moved closer to your bed and began to fiddle with something on your arm. Following the movement of her hands, you realized you had an I.V. in your arm with some clear liquid being pumped into your veins via some tubing. You tried to pull your arm away from her but you realized that you couldn’t. Both your wrists and ankles were strapped to the side of the bed you were in, holding you there. You also were no longer wearing whatever clothes you had been when you were at The Koi, and instead had on a hospital gown.

“Relax,” the doctor said, her voice much more kind and soothing to you than it had been to the man she was speaking with. “You’re out of saline solution. You need more before we can get you home.” 

You scoffed as the doctor began to unhook you from the bag. “You think I believe that? Saline my ass. I bet you’re going to give me another dose of whatever the fuck that drug was that knocked me out. It’s always easier to transport an unconscious prisoner, right?” 

Straining, you picked your head up off the bed again as you started up at Spider-Man. From what little you could see of his face, he seemed bored, as if he was being held there against his will. 

“And you,” you seethed. “I can’t believe I trusted you!”

“Oh great. You bonded with the anomaly,” the man on your left sighed, placing his hands on his hips. 

“I’m not a fucking anomaly!” you protested.

Ignoring you, Spider-Man continued, talking over you. “I saved your life! And now I’m trying to help get your ungrateful ass home. A thank you would be nice.” 

“I was already home you sick freak!” you spat. “I certainly didn’t need your help to get there!” 

Spider-Man made a motion with his head that looked as if he was rolling his eyes. “Oh sure, because a dense bitch like you could definitely figure out interdimensional travel.” 

“What the actual fuck are you on about?” you asked, your eyes narrowing, somewhat in confusion, somewhat in anger. 

“No puedo más…” the man on your left sighed. 

You turned your attention away from Spider-Man and you found your eyes landing on the strange man to your left. His fingers were pinching the bridge of his nose as he stepped away from the side of the bed. He began to meander towards the exit of the room, but not before giving a glare at Spider-Man. 

“Come on, Stryker,” he huffed, giving Spider-Man a firm shove on the shoulder, leading him towards the exit. “I’ve had enough of your complaining for the day.” 

“Yeah, sure,” Spider-Man scoffed, following the man out the door. “You would have been complaining too if you had gotten caught in her EMP. Woulda been butt ass naked, too.” 

The rest of their conversation was cut off by the door closing behind them. 

With a sigh, the doctor continued messing with the various tubes that you were hooked up to, and at that point you didn’t have the energy to argue with her anymore. In a way, she appeared to be just as tired and frustrated as you were. After a few minutes of silence, and realizing that you were in fact not being drugged like she had promised, you finally decided to ask some questions. 

“So, are we in Olympus then? This place looks too nice to be part of The Blue or in the Hitsugi,” you spoke up, glancing around the room as best as you can. You weren’t really sure if she would answer you, especially if they were attempting to do something heinous with you like Cronus had mentioned. “Why would Spider-Man take me here?”

The woman pulled up one of those round, backless rolling stools that most doctors used in offices and sat down next to you. Reaching an arm up, she pushed away the light that was somewhat blinding you, and it was at that moment you were able to get a good look at her. 

Her name tag read “Elizabeth Anderson,” and it was clipped to her coat with a clip that had some sort of cartoon character on it that you didn’t recognize. She looked to be maybe fifty at most, and she had a kinder face than most people you ran into in Digi York. Yet, there was something off about her. Her eyes were a brilliant green color, but she had no optics. In fact, she didn’t seem to have any augmentations on her body at all, which was especially strange for an Olympian doctor. 

“You’re in Nueva York, here on Earth-928,” she said simply. 

You paused for a moment, and suddenly you became slightly concerned about the woman who was apparently taking care of you. 

“Nueva York?” you repeated. “As in New York? The city name was changed to Digital York in like, 2098 or something. You know, Digi York? Because of the Alchemax advancements?” 

The doctor tilted her head at you. “You know an awful lot about Earth-1717 for an anomaly.”

There it was again, that term. They spoke to you as if you were stupid, or like you didn’t belong. Just some mistake they were trying to fix. You were tempted to correct her, like you had the last few times someone used that term with you, but you bit your tongue. 

“So, what is your home like?” she then asked. 

The simplicity of her question really threw you off. Was she asking you what it was like in The Blue? Everyone already knew what that place was like, even if you lived in Olympus. Maybe she was patronizing you, or maybe this was just her poor attempt at small talk. 

“Oh, you know,” you said with a huff, “living the dream. If you would be so kind as to drop me off by the tram, I think I can get home by myself just fine.” 

Elizabeth let out a chuckle as she turned to type at some computer system on the desk behind her. You craned your head, attempting to get a view of what she was typing, but it was too difficult to make out. 

“I think you’re going to need a little more help than that,” she laughed. 

Her tone was comforting, but you felt the opposite. Something about that place, and those people, felt off. There was this nagging feeling in the back of your mind that you were really in the wrong place, and the way everyone had been speaking to you didn’t help to ease that feeling. It made you feel small, like you were a child again. 

After about an hour of tests in awkward silence, Elizabeth seemed to be happy with where you were health wise. Your body certainly felt better, even in the short amount of time you had been awake your body didn’t feel nearly as tired and sapped of energy as when you first woke up. She pulled the tubes out of your arm and wrapped it to catch the blood that dripped from your vein.

“Your system should be flushed out, now. If you were staying here longer, I’d grab you a snack, but I think we should get you home as quickly as possible,” she said as she started to fumble with the straps holding you to the bed. 

“Sure you’re not wanting to sell me for parts?” you asked as you pulled your wrists to your chest the very moment they were free from the restraints. 

In an instant you recognized something was on your wrist, something that shouldn’t be. It was a bracelet of sorts, and an ugly one at that. It was rigid, almost like a bangle, and was mostly a dark blue with some red markings. Confused, you went to pull it off of your hand, unsure what it was doing there in the first place. 

“Don’t!” Elizabeth exclaimed as she grabbed your wrist. “Don’t take that off. It’s the only thing keeping you from glitching.” 

You had no idea what she was talking about, but the tone of her voice made it seem like you should listen to her. At least she had managed to convince herself it was important, anyway.  Really, there was no harm in keeping it on, but it was annoying. 

“Fine, I’ll keep your shitty fucking jewelry on,” you muttered, pulling your arm out of her grasp. 

Seemingly upset with your choice of words, Elizabeth stood from the stool and began to rummage through some cabinets behind you. Sitting up wasn’t as difficult as you thought it was going to be, and you managed to even swing your legs over the side of the bed. The doctor turned back to face you with a pair of maroon clothes, which she quickly held out for you to take. 

“Change into these. Alan should be here in a few minutes to pick you up,” she explained. 

Confused on who she was talking about when she mentioned Alan, and not really caring to begin with, you stood from the bed, your feet hitting the cold tile underneath you. The clothes she handed you were very plain, and rather poorly sewn together. They were all a solid color without any sort of pattern, and looked similar to a pair of sweatpants and t-shirt. It reminded you of something prisoners would wear. 

You began to change into the new clothes, not really caring that Elizabeth was in the room with you. Having grown up in an overflowing orphanage, constantly surrounded by other people, you weren’t exactly self conscious when it came to changing around people. And as a doctor, she didn’t seem to mind all tha tmuch either.

Eventually you were in those terrible, yet clean, clothes and you were only kept waiting for a little bit longer before a sharp knock sounded at the door. It opened shortly after, and Spider-Man once more entered the room, appearing as if he had calmed down some from your argument earlier. 

“Alan,” Elizabeth greeted, though her tone didn’t seem very enthused to see him. “She’s good to go now.” 

The man looked at you and crossed his arms, or what you assumed was him looking at you since it was difficult to tell through his lenses. A part of you had hoped that you wouldn’t have to deal with him much more, and though the temptation to cause trouble for him was strong, you decided to play it cool and do what they wanted you to do. You still weren’t completely convinced that they didn’t have some sort of underlying plans for you that they weren’t sharing, but for the time being they were being civil. Maybe they really were just trying to get you home. 

“Come on, Miguel’s waiting,” Spider-Man, or Alan, said. 

You followed him out of the room and into a mostly empty hallway that looked like it was part of some hospital. As you walked behind him, you couldn’t help but scan your eyes over the ground in front of you, worried you would step on broken glass, or something worse. Couldn’t have killed them to give you a pair of socks, at least. 

As you neared the end of the hallway, the unmistakable sound of chatter could be heard from beyond a set of double doors. Long, rectangular windows allowed you to peek behind the doors where you saw a crowd of people walking in various directions. The sound of them grew louder and louder until you were finally through the doors, and the scene in front of you shocked you.

Dozens of people all dressed in various shades of reds and blues weaved through the bustling hall in front of you. Each and every one of them was remarkably different, yet each of them all sported some form of spider insignia. You were starting to wonder if you had just walked into some convention. 

But that was the least eye catching thing about everything in front of you. On the other side of the hall was a wall lining the hallway consisting of nothing but floor to ceiling windows, similar to the dining room in Cronus’s apartment. The view beyond those windows was something you had never seen before in your life. You were very obviously in some sort of tower, high up in the sky, but it wasn’t like the ones you were used to back in Digi York. This high rise was separated from what appeared to be the rest of the city, and you noted just how flat everything seemed, how much open space was available and less compact everything was. 

And then there was the sky. There was no smog, or smoke to choke out the sun; in fact, the sun was a brilliant yellow color, its true colors able to shine. You could make out the individual rays that beamed down on the area around you, lining the streets and sidewalks in a warm gold. The sky was completely cloudless, save for a few wispy strings of clouds that dotted the area here and there. Without the smoke, or the smog, or anything else in the way, you were finally able to make out the real color of the sky. 

It was blue. A pale, almost white, blue. 

A part of you couldn’t help but feel a little sad at that revelation. It was the color that your home was named after, the shade that drowned your streets, the pigment that trapped you, and it made up the very color of the sky itself. You had always dreamed of escaping The Blue, but no matter where you went it was always going to be above you. 

Still, it was a big change in pace from what you were used to seeing, and you found your hand reaching out to rest on the window in front of you. The glass was warm, the exposed sun no doubt heating it up nicely throughout the day. 

“Get your hands off, you’re going to leave fingerprints,” Alan snapped. 

“It’s blue,” you said quietly. Refusing to take your hand off the window, you quickly turned around to face him. “Where the hell did you take me?” 

He took a step back away from the window, almost as if trying to get you to follow him. “Nueva York. Earth-928. I know interdimensional travel might be a bit much for you to comprehend, but we are very far away from Digi York. We’re not even in the same universe.” 

A part of you wanted to call him out on his bullshit. Hell, ten minutes ago you certainly would have. But that view just beyond your fingertips told you otherwise. There was not a single place in the world that had a sky as clear as that. And really, it all started to make sense. The swirling circle of light that had emitted from seemingly nowhere wasn’t just a trick of the light, it was a portal, just like something you’d find in an old sci-fi movie. 

You had been taken from your home and brought to a completely different place. 

“Take in the view while you can,” Alan sighed as he turned to continue leading you through the hall, “you’ll be home soon enough.”

Huffing, you followed behind the man while you kept your gaze on the window to your side. “And where exactly is my home, then? I told you all I was already there, but you seem to be convinced otherwise.” 

“Hell if I know,” he responded with a shrug. “You seem to be pretty knowledgeable about Digi York, but you obviously didn’t belong on Earth-1717. I’m guessing you’re from somewhere that’s only marginally different from 1717, but I’m no scientist. Well, I am, but not the kind whose job it is to fix your problems.” 

The more he opened his mouth, the more you wished you could get him to shut it. Always with the snarky or rude comments, and that temper was too short for his own good. You could still feel his grip digging into the freshly formed bruises on your arm back at The Koi. 

He hadn’t even thanked you for the free drink you tried to offer him. 

The two of you continued down several halls and up an elevator, and with each step you took you passed by a handful of different spider people. Some wore suits sporting the red and blue, others wore black, some wore masks, and others maybe just glasses. Each of them were similar, yet remarkable in their own way. 

“How many spider people are there?” you asked, moving so you were walking side by side with Alan rather than behind him. 

“As many as there are universes,” he responded with a shrug. “Each earth has their own Spider-Man. Or woman. None of the people you see around here really belong here, they’re just visiting, or helping to complete assignments. We donate most of our time to help catch anomalies like you so we can send them home, back where they belong.” 

At that point, it had become instinct to roll your eyes every time someone said that stupid fucking word. 

“Oh great, my heroes,” you mumbled sarcastically. 

You and Alan turned down a dark hallway that led into a wide, open room. Compared to the rest of the building, the place was basically abandoned except for one figure. It was the stranger you had seen earlier when you had first woken up. He was taller than you had realized he was, and much broader. His suit seemed to be glowing in the dim lighting of the room, exaggerating the well defined segments of muscle that covered his body. You refused to believe that someone could be built of that much muscle naturally, or without some sort of augmentation. What the hell were they feeding people on that earth? 

“Careful,” Alan whispered in a joking tone as he leaned down a little, “if you make him angry, he might just bite you again.” 

“Bite me?” you repeated, your eyebrows drawing together. 

“It’s how he paralyzed you earlier.”

You threw a cautious glance back at the man in front of you. Suddenly, his abnormal size was the least concerning thing about him. Elizabeth mentioning his venom earlier suddenly made sense.

“Can all spider people do that?” you asked. 

Alan chuckled. “No, Miguel’s just a freak.” 

“You know, I can hear you, right?” 

The man in front of you slowly turned around to face both you and Alan, and he didn’t seem entirely enthusiastic to see either of you. He placed his hands on his hips, which only aided in making his shoulders look broader, his hips tapering narrowly in comparison. 

“Miguel,” Alan greeted the man as if he hadn’t just been insulting him moments before, “we’re all set.” 

Miguel’s eyes flickered back and forth between you and Alan, and eventually they landed on your throat for longer than what felt comfortable. You had suddenly become self conscious about your appearance, between your bruising, the clothes you were wearing, and the makeup that was no doubt smudged all over your face, you were certain you looked like a mess. His gaze certainly didn’t help, either. There was something off about him. Maybe it was the way his suit was glowing from his body, but his eyes almost seemed to have this red tinge to them. 

“Put her in,” Miguel said simply as he turned his back towards you again. 

“Put me in?” you repeated. “Put me in what?”

Alan continued to walk forward, and you knew that you didn’t really have any other choice but to follow him deeper into the room. Several computers and workstations lit up with glowing orange screens as you walked by, and you realized that Miguel was hard at work typing something up on the system in front of him, not even bothering with a glance as the two of you walked by.

In front of you sat a small platform with a large machine hanging from the ceiling. It was quiet, and unmoving but even in sleep that beast was intimidating. Several, spider-like legs protruded from the device, and it seemed like it would sooner impale you than do anything else. Still, Alan led you closer and closer to the machine until he pointed at the platform under it. 

“Stand here, and don’t move,” he ordered. “You’ll be home before you know it.” 

For a moment your eyes were glued up on the machine and you couldn’t help but feel as if you were an insect about to walk into a sticky trap. There was no way in hell that machine was safe to stand under, and you certainly didn’t want to find out the hard way. 

However, you weren’t really given a choice. Alan seemed to be quickly impatient with your hesitation and gave you a firm shove to your back, sending you stumbling forward onto the platform. 

“Hey! Watch your augs, man, that shit hurts,” you snapped, catching your balance. 

“Whoops,” Alan said with an insincere shrug. 

You turned to face the two men, and you could feel your heart begin to throb in your throat. The pressure in your body was building, and you could feel the sweat beginning to line your palms as you watched as Miguel typed away at the computer in front of him. His face was lit with a soft orange glow, causing his features to look more sharp, yet it also made him appear angry. 

They had you stand there for what felt like forever as they both leaned over to look at the screen, muttering to each other. The longer it took, the more anxious you became. You had no idea what to expect from that machine, you weren’t sure if it would hurt, or make you feel sick, or what, but neither of them seemed all that willing to explain it to you. 

Suddenly, Miguel’s face was casted in a red light and he let out a deep sigh. The light flashed orange once more quickly after he started messing with a few keys and buttons in front of him, but it only turned red shortly after. 

“Stryker, go stand up there for a second,” Miguel said, nodding to the platform you were standing on. 

Alan walked out from behind the computer and lazily made his way to you. He waved his hand to the side, motioning for you to step off, which you gladly complied with. He stopped on the platform and began to slowly spin, his arms out to the side as if he were addressing a crowd of people around him. You heard a few more clacks on the keyboard from where Miguel continued to type things in, and then the screen lit up green, reflecting off of his face.

“Okay, now put her back on,” Miguel said, not even bothering to take his eyes off of the screen. 

“What’s going on?” you asked as Alan led you back up on the platform. 

Anxiety was really taking a hold in your chest at that point. Those two were too cryptic for their own good, and leaving you in the dark only made you more uneasy about the whole situation. And the fact that neither of them answered your question helped either. 

Once more, red flashed across Miguel’s face, and he let out a frustrated groan as he pushed himself back away from the system. “Lyla, what’s going on here?”

An orange tinted holographic figure suddenly manifested in the air next to Miguel’s shoulder. The figure was of a woman with short hair, a fluffy white coat, and heart shaped pink sunglasses. She seemed to be one of the most lively things in that place, despite being completely fake.

“It recognized Stryker’s home world just fine, why is it popping up with an error for her?” Miguel asked the hologram. 

Lyla made a few motions, which were blocky and sort of uneven, as if she were typing on the system herself. The screen in front of them flashed red a few more times, before finally popping up a dark blue color. 

“The system is operating fine,” she said carefully. Even from a distance you could see that her holographic eyes were trained on you. “It’s her… Her DNA it’s… unrecognizable.”

Read more on my AO3

Masterlist

#miguel fanfic #fanfiction #miguel o hara #miguel o'hara #miguel spiderman #miguel x reader #miguel spiderverse

[invisible-storyteller]

5 times Derek talked about death, and 1 time he talked about love

(Read it on AO3) Pairing: Stiles Stilinski/Derek Hale Rating: General Words: 2708 Summary: "I buried Laura today." (Based on my headcanon that Derek often talks to the Moon and pretends that his mother can still hear him.)

The floorboards creaked under the sole of his boots, bemoaning the times of brighter, higher spirits and vivid colours. The staircase was now ash-stained where his feet landed, but he diligently followed the wan light's lead until he was basking in the halo of her pale shine. His old room was nothing but ruins of a faded memory, just like the rubbles of the missing wall to his right.

Derek sat on the edge, legs dangling off the side, and listened to the choir of the forest awakening in the darkest hours of the night. The leaves were waltzing in the wind as a light breeze ran across the land, his numb fingers rubbing together against the sting of the cold. The Moon was as beautiful as ever, and Derek took comfort in her as he stayed there, uncaring that the back of his jeans was now covered in a layer of soot.

"I buried Laura today."

The start was always the hardest part. But the Moon wasn't anything if not patient, especially with an old friend.

"I honoured her," Derek swallowed past the lump in his throat, "Like you taught us."

He watched the lines in the palm of his hands, still feeling the weight of the body in his arms. Another breeze ran through the clearing, climbing up the walls and caressing Derek's cheeks that began to colour in the chill weather. Everything felt cold these days.

"I haven't cried," Derek confessed, feeling the burn in his eyes but unable to shed tears, "Does that make me a bad person?"

Derek listened to the hoot of an owl in the distance. Still no answer. He didn't know what he'd expected.

"Maybe a bad brother?"

Who would let their sister return alone to the town that brought so much suffering and danger to them? - just another question he didn't wish to know the answer to. The Moon stared down at him, expectant.

"I still feel as if I'm in New York. Just waiting for her to come back. To step through that door and make everything make sense again."

Derek finally looked up, marvelling at the sky and the comfort its presence brought. He shouldn't feel better, he shouldn't even be able to breathe right now, but there was a reason why werewolves worshipped the Moon. Because when everything disappeared, she still remained.

With a sigh, Derek stood up and shoved his cold hands into his pockets, his eyes wandering back to the Moon for just a second.

"I miss you, Mom."

"I killed him."

The sounds of traffic drifted up from the town below, people hurrying home after a long day of work, probably. The dusk was already settling over the lines of houses from where spots of light dotted the city map like moles, families sitting down for dinner to rejoice at the serenity of simple days and a loving home. Meanwhile, Derek was perched atop a lone rock in the preserve, engulfed in endless darkness. It was fitting, he thought.

"My last family member. Gone." There were no stars in the sky, no one Derek could talk to, just an empty space. "I have no one left."

He hugged the leather jacket tighter as the Sun dipped below the horizon, and he could hear the first creatures of the night arise from the shadows. How long had he been sitting there?

"You made it look so easy," Derek huffed, his smile feeling foreign on his lips, "You always seemed to know what you were doing. Laura, too."

His fingers dug into his thighs but he could never reach far enough, never find that part of himself that he desperately wanted to claw out. For now, he pulled his leather jacket tighter, the warmth of the spring nights never seeming to seep into his skin.

"I have no idea what I'm doing, mom."

The teardrop tickled his face where it ran down his cheek before Derek could wipe it off with a grunt.

"They have questions I don't know the answers to. I'm supposed to guide them." He shook his head against the memory of three pairs of shining yellow eyes, all trained on him in expectation. "But I'm the one needing guidance."

Hiding behind the clouds, the Moon finally peeked down at him.

"I need you, Mom."

When Derek went back to the railway depot, it was still empty.

The bright hue of the phone was like a beacon in the otherwise pitch-black loft. Derek's figure was outlined against the window where small drops of water raced down the glass, the rain's monotonous sound filling the quiet space where there used to be two sets of heartbeats alongside his own. Today was one of those days.

Derek scrolled down his shamefully short contact list before throwing the device onto his bed, feeling frustrated and lonely, but what was new? Every day was just a bit rougher around the edges than the previous one, and today in particular felt like a constant battering of wind against his house of glass. He just wished he could pick up the phone and call someone - If it were that easy. He did share one intimate night with Jennifer but this... this felt larger. Their connection was still new, still in the making, and Derek had no wish to scare her away so soon.

There was also someone else...

He would surely listen to Derek, as attentive as ever. Derek just wasn't sure if he would be able to find the words. Any words at all.

The cold travelled through the window and Derek thought not for the first time that he should have installed central heating in the loft. He could also put on something warmer than his white tanktop, but comfort wasn't attainable either way so why bother? The Moon was barely visible behind the veil of rain, but Derek felt the words flood out of him all the same.

"I feel like I don't have the right to grieve."

One shaky breath. Two. A ghost of a touch on his shoulder.

"I didn't talk to his parents. Didn't know what to say." The laugh that left his mouth had a bitter aftertaste. Or maybe it was just bile.

Another huff. "Sorry I killed your son?"

Derek gripped the edge of the table, right next to the claw marks that were already engraved there. He closed his eyes against the burn, reminding himself that he didn't deserve to cry - not when he was the one responsible for his death. His vision still blurred around the edges, though.

"You know how many people were at Boyd's funeral?"

The table's legs screeched as they dragged against the floor. Derek stared up at the clouds, face twitching and eyes hard.

"Three."

He shook his head but the memory was still there. Boyd's parents weeping at the grave, Derek hiding behind a tree, not even brave enough to go up to them and give the parents an explanation. He was a coward and a killer.

"He deserved better. Erica deserved better."

He knew that a box of Boyd's stuff was still collecting dust in his room. He couldn't bring himself to give it back to his family yet, he was just a selfish creature like that. In all honesty, Derek dreaded the day Boyd's scent would ultimately disappear from the loft. The same way Isaac's did.

"I should have died."

He wasn't sure whether he meant instead of Boyd or back in the fire. He didn't think it mattered. The phantom feeling of a hand on his shoulder squeezed him harder.

"Mom, I had a horrible thought today."

He couldn't see much of the town spread below his balcony. There was a thick layer of fog that covered the ground and swallowed most of the buildings like an Atlantis of white smoke, but even through the grey curtain, there was the silver sliver of the Moon shining above his head. Listening.

"Today, for a moment," Derek marched on, his jaw clenching as he forced the words out, "I wished I was the one who killed Allison."

He waited a few seconds just to see if anything would happen. Maybe he was awaiting some sort of punishment for a monstrous thought like that, or maybe he had wanted someone to hear it and call him out on his dark desires because "That's what you've always wanted, right? Revenge." Except no. There was only silence, the Moon blinking down at him as if encouraging him to continue.

"I couldn't look Scott in the eye," Derek pursed his lips, thoughts still whirling like particles in a sand storm, "His eyes were so.... dull. Like a light had been blown out."

Derek couldn't help but notice how the lights of the city shone just as tiredly.

"But the worst was being around Stiles," Derek confessed, recalling the memory with a frown, "I could barely stand his presence. His scent was... it was so full of guilt. Shame. Grief."

Derek felt his heart clench. Oh, how terrifying it was to look into a mirror of whiskey-brown eyes and see at last the reflection he'd been running from!

"They are so young, Mom. They don't deserve to feel like this."

I didn't deserve to feel like that.

"I can't wash the blood off my hands," Derek watched his claws elongate and then retreat, his nose picking up the smell of Aiden's blood under his nails. "But I'm learning to live with it."

Derek looked up then, eyes shiny and back straight.

"So I wished I had killed her. So Scott and Stiles wouldn't have to carry this weight."

And suddenly, his chest felt lighter. Like the fog had lifted.

The motel's sign lit up with neon lights in an attempt to beckon the tired travellers that happened to roll through this small town in the middle of nowhere, and Derek would have laughed at the idea of luring in guests with crappy LED signs if he hadn't been one of the motel's patrons himself. It was just temporary, of course, but he had always found shitty establishments like this fitting for his renegade lifestyle. Well, maybe not anymore.

"I don't think I can go back to Mexico. Not yet."

The coke in his hand was already room temperature but he was simply relieved that the drink hadn't gotten stuck in the vending machine because the last thing this run-down motel needed was having to replace the glass barrier. Summer nights were also getting warmer, and Derek felt something heavy in his bones as he sat on the hood of his car.

"I wanted to visit some family, but I think I might just go back to New York for a bit. I think it's time I settled a few things there."

Derek took a sip, catching the sound of someone cursing in one of the rooms, followed by the noise of a TV falling to the ground. Maybe Derek could leave a generous tip. After all, this place really needed it.

"I always wondered what it felt like. Dying."

The Moon was bright in the sky but he could still see the last rays of sunlight on the horizon. It was tranquil with only the occasional disturbance of a car passing through the town, and thankfully there were no people in the parking lot to be witness to Derek's spontaneous rambling. Not like he couldn't scare them away with so much as a look.

"I never knew it could feel so peaceful," Derek said, the words coming strangely easily to his tongue, "I wanted to join you."

It was a simple statement. Derek had wished for that many times in the past, and it was still true - probably would be forever. But now... he thought he could maybe wait a little longer. Stick around for a while.

"You always said that having a cause to die for is noble," Derek smiled at the memory, even if the warmth in his chest was still an alien sensation when it came to remembering his past life. He had been feeling closer to his mom since he had attained his full wolf shift, and still, maybe there was more to it than he had originally thought.

"But having a reason to live for is liberating. And I think you were right."

He felt the bump of the little key chain in his pocket. A tiny baseball bat. A reminder.

"I know what I want to live for," Derek stated, locking eyes with the Sun, "I'll become better, a worthy heir of your legacy. Not as an alpha, but as a Hale. A guardian, like you said."

Derek hopped off his car and opened the door to the driver's side. His hand wrapped around the steering wheel, an unprecedented excitement settling over him. He was ready to see where the road would take him.

"I love you. All of you."

A cascade of sunlight filtered through the thin foliage to lead the shadows into a playful waltz along the forest ground. The leaves swayed gracefully in the air as Derek soaked up the warmth, his hands buried in the pockets of his jacket and his lips stretched into a comfortable smile.

"I think I understand now," Derek started, his eyes opening slowly to the sight of purple wolfsbane. There was an abundance of the plant in this clearing, all buried systematically inside a triangle of trees, and even Derek had to admit that Deaton had done a pretty good job with the gravesite.

"For a long time, I thought I knew what you meant by finding a Sun to your Moon."

Memories, so many, and all wrong in their nature. None of their touches was ever as warm as the Sun, their souls never blinding in beauty, and their colours never as vibrant as to paint Derek's skies with the different shades of love. Never even close to what he had always dreamt of. Never... until now.

"I always wished to have what you and Dad had." An inhale, quiet and easy. "Ironic, isn't it? I selfishly wished for selfless love."

The rustle of leaves grew in volume as a gust of wind swept through the clearing but it still wasn't enough to dull the sound of a constant heartbeat bearing the slightest uptick of worry nearby.

"But you were right. Again." Derek smiled, a ray of sunshine dancing across his mother's grave. "Love happens when you don't search for it, and it gives the most when you don't ask for anything in return."

Derek could see his smile - like an image carved into his mind -, always hand-in-hand with that familiar mischievous glint that crept into his star-filled eyes whenever his soul shook with laughter. It was breathtaking - overflowing sometimes - and it felt nothing short of an embrace. Like unsaid promises and lingering touches and secret glances and open hearts.

"I finally found him, Mom, and I never asked him to love me."

The approaching footsteps abruptly halted at the edge of the tree-framed triangle, a smell that Derek could describe in no other way than home bringing a smile to his face.

"But he loves me, anyway."

Brightness fell upon the two purple flowers, planted beside each other as they were meant to be. Carefully, long fingers brushed against Derek's hand, intertwining with his own until the light of the Moon and the Sun blended into each other, Derek's shoulder light with the weight of his lover's head.

"Thank you," Derek told them finally, as it was long overdue - his Mom, his Dad, Laura, his uncles and aunts, him, the Sun, and the Moon. He was grateful for the love that surrounded him, even in times when he was too blind to notice the obvious light that filtered through the trees and into his life. Because deep down, he knew that something so luminous and warm could always be found, he just had to stop searching.

"You're ready?" Stiles asked, his cheeks nuzzling into Derek's shoulder and the wayward ends of his hair tickling the side of the werewolf's face.

Derek nodded.

"Yeah." He gave Stiles's hand a gentle squeeze, feeling his presence unwavering in Derek's life.

"Let's go home."

#sterek #original: sterek fanfic

[gourdkeeper]

Poison Paradise (A.K.I. x Rashid)

Word count: 3403 Warnings: spicy towards the end (solo stuff), poisoning, drug usage, stalking, incapacitated, experimentation, embarrassment, fear, inappropriate erections, rashid is scaroused

He left himself wide open.

She could have had him killed on those rooftops that day. That excruciatingly warm day. He had helped her up. Not a shred of worry or fear that she could have easily had him foam at the mouth, convulse and spasm to his death would she have not held back and let him live another day.

The Master hasn't given a signal yet. She was growing inpatient. However, anything for Master F.A.N.G., she shall never disappoint her beloved. But, there should be no harm in toying with her prey a little bit, right?

At least, that's what A.K.I. mused to herself as she observed Rashid record a video by himself yet again. Training in the wreckage of a bridge not far off from the currently deserted train station. Leaving himself wide open, again. How sweet was it, pondering and dreaming of all the possibilities. Of slithering up to him and having his soul leave his body out of shock when he realises he is not alone in this (not so) lonely night. Of lightly scratching him, infecting him with a toxin that impaired his vision and motor skills. Of approaching him head on and challenging him to a fight she is bound to win while playing dirty. Slipping him poison or by contorting and squeezing around the clueless man like a constricting boa until his strength drains as she tightens to a claustrophobic degree and pinches the brachial plexus, having him fall to the ground and scramble to save himself and perform his obnoxious wind and parkour antics before realising it's too late and that he likely won't ever be moving that arm again without proper, long and rigorous treatment.

Delicious.

She had to suppress a laugh, it was all too good but she didn't want her ghastly pale figure to be sighted in the dark of the night just yet.

With the agility and stealth that would catch even the most trained ninja off-guard, she approached. Using the pitch black shadows to her advantage, A.K.I. slithered over to the corner of the building left to ruin besides the bridge. Her target and prized plaything was just up ahead. It shouldn't prove to be too difficult to get to him unnoticed for someone of her calibre. Her Master had trained her well. Scarily well.

Rashid was silent, not a very common occurrence mind you, likely because he was recording a reel of some sorts, something to show off and display his skills instead of attracting views with his over-the-top boisterous infooencer personality. He jumped in place, twirling his body and twisting at the hips with the agility of a cat avoiding its fall and fluidity of an eagle gliding with open wings. It was a sight to behold, truly, if only the audience was someone a bit more “normal”. A.K.I. silently rolled through the back of the walls of the building, it was almost inhumane, how she could slip, slide and glide across a surface so quietly and effectively just by rolling her shoulders and swivelling her hips opposingly. Without a second to lose she makes it to the side of the bridge and lets herself slip up underneath, hiding from any prying eyes as she approaches her poor self-absorbed victim beneath his feet. “Nishi-shi-shi-shi.”

Rashid froze in his tracks, a chill creeped up his spine setting off all the alarms in his body and mind, causing him to jolt, nearly losing balance and having to stumble back to not fall off together with the debris he kicked off of the crumbling part of what remained of this poor bridge. Surely that must’ve been the wind? He had been almost conjuring up a storm with the ferocity of his kicks and jumps. No one else was heard or seen. It was just him and the moon in the clear dark blue sky. Not even a single star to keep him company tonight. Or so he thought.

“Akh-!” He felt something prick his foot and swatted it, mosquitos were always a nuisance at this time of the year, he’d end up with countless new bites and go home itching to apply ointment to them. But this time, it was no mosquito, not unless mosquitos came in the purple claw-shaped variety now. His eyes were quick to spot it. A single claw dragged away scratching the concrete as it reeled back to its owner and lodging itself onto a pale, slender and elegant hand covered in what looked like a sleek metal gauntlet. That laugh. There it is again. How could he possibly forget? He’s not sure, in fact, he’s not even sure what his train of thought is right now. His mind is unbelievably foggy, his eyes hazy, he feels himself spinning even though he has not yet taken one other step, he feels his heart beating in his skull, a knot in his stomach threatening him to hurl and throw up everything he has had this day. He had been drugged. Rashid tries to focus his fleeting thoughts, holding onto the last bit of conscience before it slips away. He makes out her features and unmistakable albino-like complexion as well as her oddly long and unique thin silhouette. It was the very same woman that tried to attack him before that he foolishly showed mercy to. “Y-you…-” Was all he could muster before he slumped down and fell to his knees. His eyes rolled back and his jaw slacked open before falling backwards, twitching, like a puny fly that had been sprayed with pesticide.

—

Not quite sure how much time had passed he pried his eyes open, eyelids heavier than cinder blocks, sight tarnished by black specs and lack of peripheral vision. It felt bleak. Numb. Hopeless. He recognized where he was. He had barely been moved. From what he can tell he had just been dragged into the abandoned house right by the bridge. As for his assailant… He can’t see her, but he surely can hear her and her haunting giggling. It was nauseating. It almost made him feel curious, a part of him wanted to get to know more of her and every other part wanted to run as fast and far as possible away from it all. Speaking of, panic is instilled in Rashid. He can think, he can see, albeit poorly but he cannot bring himself to move any other muscle that isn’t part of his face. It’s like his body stopped listening to his brain as a whole. Can he even feel? He wonders. He can certainly feel his brain, and he hates every single thing about that. Hyper aware of all that is going on, he can feel too much it seems. Nose hair itching, his pores sweating, his eyelids coating his eyes in fluid with every blink, his lungs filling with air, his blood coursing through his veins with every pump of his restless heart. He wonders if the effects of whatever he had been injected with were permanent or temporary. He glances down as best as he can and realises he has been stripped of everything but his pants. Just what is her plan exactly?

He could hear small and light footsteps drawing closer. The immobilised man decided to shut his eyes, as if playing dead would do much to help.

The air feels cold, his hairs stand on end as the silence grows. Did she go away? It feels like an entire hour has passed, he can feel his heartbeat grow erratic and his palms become clammy while he tries his best to keep his face neutral and eyes closed. Is it safe to open? 

The immobilised man waits a couple more seconds before taking his chances and opening his eyes. Much to his relief, he sees the same mildew-filled ceiling and exhales, thankful to not be face to face with who had him done in.

"So impatient... If you waited any longer you could have fooled someone into thinking you were dead!" 

He felt the colour drain from his skin and he tried to whip his head in the direction of her voice but unable to do so as if his body was strapped down horrifically tight with the toxin’s effects.

"...But not me." She snaked over his torso and stared him down with a crazed expression that could strike fear into the heart of just about anyone of sound mind. 

Rashied tried to articulate words but his tongue felt swollen and heavy. Only a poor excuse of a "Why?" came out of his mouth.

She erupted in laughter, with no reason or intention of answering any questions that came out of her target and soon to-be test subject.

She drew closer, head almost pressing against his, her outrageous hair smushing and deforming between them as her clawed hand dragged dangerously over his jaw. "What to do… what to do…" she mused to herself, thinking out loud with no regard for her victim and not a single care if he could hear her or not. Rashid’s breath caught at his throat when he felt the dreaded claw break his skin. One single droplet of blood running down his face. Wondering if that clawed finger is loaded with poison as well. Was he going to die? He worriedly thought to himself. As if she could hear his thoughts she smiled wickedly. “Worry not! Your life is not coming to an end. Yet.” Much to Rashid’s relief she slipped away and got up, no longer pressing down on his chest but now crouching beside him, shaking what looked like a small glass vial with a purple liquid swishing around inside it and a needle on the other hand. “We still have sooo much to play with..!” She kneels down and eyes the man from head to toe. “Hmm… now all you’ve got to do is hold still and be a good boy for me if you don’t want to deal with less than optimal, dire, permanent consequences-” She gripped his jaw and forced him to face her, his body limping behind with no force. “Say “Aaaaa”-!” The viper of a woman gripped his cheeks making him open his mouth as her eyes widened. Pulling a single spherical object, no bigger than that of a blueberry and rolling it down his tongue. “Swallow.” She let go of him and let him slump to the ground gracelessly.

His mind goes hazy again. The effects of whatever she slipped him almost immediate. She is speaking but nothing seems to make sense, nothing registers. It feels like a mumbled chant. Images that he can’t recognize flash before his eyes, his brain synapsing and sending him mixed signals. He can taste smells he’s never seen before. Smell textures he’s never tasted, hear things he never touched. Nothing makes sense. He’s certain that he’s burning with fever and yet he feels cold. Freezing. The moment she lays one finger on his chest his senses go haywire. It feels like his nervous system jumped out of his body and he starts involuntarily trembling. He can’t speak, nothing but pathetic mumbles and groans exit his lips. He can finally still himself enough to see her image again. Smiling that disgusting venomous smile. She’s writing something down. The sick bitch. She’s probably enjoying all of this. Recording the results in the name of science or simply because it gets her off. Sadly for Rashid. It seems like she’s not the only one getting off to this morbid situation. Likely conditioned and influenced by the poison, Rashid could still feel his body. A bit too well. The only spot in his whole body that didn’t feel like it had been frozen below zero was the least convenient one for the moment. Hidden away under his only remaining garment. Tense and pressing against the fabric, burning hot and pulsating as hard as his brain did. Her clawed hand drags up his torso and he grows more pent up as she pokes the talons in, barely not scratching past the surface of his skin. Is this cloudiness of his mind fear or lust? The two emotions feel exactly the same to him right now. It’s pathetic. Helpless. Shameful.

What would Azam say if he saw him in this predicament? Despite all the danger and his life at stake, despite being held captive by someone who’s clearly vile and demented. Someone who wishes him harm… he just can’t help but to enjoy it deep down under the thick layer of fear. He can’t help but want to be touched and experimented on by her. He can faintly hear her voice in the back of his head. She’s reciting the secondary effects of the experimental drug she just fed him by the sound of it, at least from what he can make out.

It was so stupid and foolish of him to let himself wide open like that. Training and recording himself alone when he had been the victim of an attack not even a week earlier. How careless and absurd that he didn’t stay indoors or with someone else to watch his back. It was obvious that loose ends would come to bite him in the ass sooner or later. And yet. He would let himself get caught all over again if it meant he could feel his brain be tampered with and melt this way. A.K.I. is clearly toying with him. She had noticed the growing bulge in her test subject’s garment long ago but she had no intention of touching the filthy thing herself. Instead drugging him further into his painful as well as seemingly erotic and depraved thoughts, whispering trigger words into his ear to let himself drop further into this brainwashed state. It was so hilarious to her. To see a supposed “hero” fall like this at her hands. Wanting nothing more but for her to touch him and to laugh at him, to call him pathetic and to make him squirm. It wasn’t a known effect to her, but definitely a pleasant and useful discovery for her studies. Drugging up this reckless man had proven to be greatly rewarding already. She can’t read minds, yet. But what she wouldn’t give to be able to slither into his mind and catch a glimpse of his every fleeting thought at this moment.

She takes the vial into her hands and stabs the needle into the top, draining its contents. Chuckling at her victim, she doesn’t hesitate to prod the needle into his thigh muscle. A pained expression coats his face as she beams with happiness.

Confusion strikes him, did she just inject more toxins into him? Not this time. She snakes over to the other side of Rashid and helps him sit up, slithering around him and resting her chin on his shoulder she whispers contently. “Aren’t you glad?? I’ve just given you an antidote. See? I don’t mean you any harm… You can move now… under my command, right?” Not fully a lie, while it neutralised the paralysing agents to a certain degree, it definitely did no favours to ease anything else.

Rashid’s upper body wobbled and he nodded languidly. Slurred movements, nothing like his usual. Still unable to form a proper word. Still overwhelmed with sensations and distracting urges. Still unsure if he wants to run. He tries to get up on his legs and gets swiftly kicked down with one quick blow to his groin. “Down.” She grips him by his hair and with unexplainable, almost superhuman strength tosses him to the floor completely discombobulated. “You’re going nowhere, yes?” Rashid can only groan in response, desperately scrambling to straighten himself up and off the ground, failing miserably without any balance to his feet. By the time he manages to get up on his knees he’s already greeted by the dreaded shadow growing in front of him. He looks up to face his pale nightmare in this dark night.

Her hands, almost gently carded through his messy and soaked in sweat hair, petting his head embarrassing him further, not doing any favours to his condition before she pushes him back onto the wall. “Be good, yes?” She flashes her claw in front of his eyes and threatens to poison him once more with a sly smile. “You wouldn’t want to be incapacitated again would you now?” Leaving him no time to answer, knowing he couldn’t form the words, she slashed her purple needle-like nails across his chest and took one step back. Letting him grab onto his burning breasts in anguish, and feeling himself grow wearier. Exhaustion washing over him, he licked his lips, he felt so dehydrated. Like he had just wandered over the vast unending desert for days without a single drop of water to be found.

Rashid looked up, a pitiful expression on his eyes and lips as he tried to reach out for his harasser, like he had spotted an oasis, pleading for help, anything at all to help his condition and urges that keep forming and fading away in his broken mind.

“..No.” She hummed. He mewled the most pathetic sound she had ever had the pleasure of listening to, her eyes shone in the dark when she noticed he could no longer withstand the effects of everything she had to give him for the night. His hands clasping and clawing at his scalp. Mouth gaping and breathing hard, grunts that formed into screams exited his lips carelessly. Sweating bullets. Air getting thin. Feeling trapped by his own spiral of thoughts that sounded more like a scratched record by now. Overstimulated by this numbness that feels so fervent.

His consciousness sank. His mind felt like an empty, void, bottomless dark pit. He succumbed, be it by fear, anxiety or his body simply shutting itself down in defence, unknown. 

Rashid fell to his knees before blacking out. By the time he came to, it was already day. His body had more lacerations than he could remember. His body felt heavy. Sore everywhere. He felt drained of his blood and sanity. At least, for better or for worse, he was now alone. His assailant nowhere to be found. Painstakingly he dragged himself to the corner of the room where he had spotted his clothes and put them back on. Nothing seems amiss or damaged, besides himself, that is.

—

It took much longer than he’d ever want it to but he had finally made it home. Or better yet, the place he decided to stay over at for the time being in Nayshall.

He stripped himself bare and threw himself onto the bed. Exhausted. Like he hasn’t shut eye in weeks. He tries to meditate. Like how Azam taught him to. It always helped him relax. But not this time. Plagued by the ideas that had swarmed him earlier. He felt himself grow needy. Disgusted at himself he tries to shut the intrusive thoughts away. It wasn’t appropriate. It wasn’t right. Rashid thought to himself.

Yet. As if still unable to control himself, his hands travel above his torso. Right hand trailing downwards. Incapable of holding back. The primal and carnal urge is there and his body commands.

Angrily and frustrated, he pleases himself. Languid strokes turning frantic and agitated. Grunts leaving his mouth once more. Breath hitching. Not due to pain, but pleasure this time. The image of that unpleasant, sinister woman clouding his psyche. The way she laughed at him. Toyed with him. The idea of not being able to stop her from doing anything she wished. The impotency of it all. Defenceless in the face of death or worse.

Rashid knew this night would haunt him forever, for as many years as he’d be allowed to live. The visions of that wretched woman that terrified and set off the fight or flight instincts in him, forever engraved in his mind. There won’t be a single night where he’ll shut his eyes to sleep and not think of her or the stirring and whirlwind of thoughts he had upon being at her mercy. Of the time where all he wanted was to be toyed with, with his life being dangled in front of his very own eyes. And how he craves to be stalked, preyed on and feel it all over again.

#aki #a.k.i. #rashid #street fighter #sf6 #gourdkeeper

[chrancecriber]

1.FM - Chillout Lounge Radio (February 15, 2023)

23:55 Koru - I Believe 23:49 Heso - Never Ending Time 23:43 Aural Float - Still Here 23:38 Jazz L'amour - Summer Dreams - See The Light Mix 23:32 Moon De Lounge - La Mer Se Calme ( Mounier Oriental Sunset Dub Mix) 23:25 Phil Mison - Lula 23:17 Saint Etienne - Only Love Can Break Your Heart- Andrew Weatherall Mix 23:08 Joey Fehrenbach - Grandfather 23:02 The Man Behind C. Feat.debora Vilchez - Fluye 22:56 Cesar Martinez Ensemble - Contigo Para Siempre 22:50 Puff Dragon - Lava 22:44 Cafe Americaine - Kashmir Wanderer (Nylons Cut) 22:41 Thomas Lemmer - Savannah 22:32 Toka Kakabadze - Urban 22:27 Aloha From Hawai - Sunset Cocktail Lounge (Cafe Bar Chillout Del Mar Cafe Mix) 22:26 Costes - Stéphane Pompougnac - Green Tree 22:20 Freemasons - Love On My Mind 22:15 Saigenji - No Meio Da Chuva 22:10 Coastline - Adriatic Sea (Dj Lounge Del Mar Vs. Milews Ambience Mix) 22:06 Autopilot - Seen It All 22:01 07 - Paradise Circus 21:56 Bedroom Surfer - Make It Happen - Meet Her At Costa Del Sol Mix 21:50 Merge Of Equals - Clear Blue Sky (Original Mix) 21:44 Paco Fernבndez - Al Lado Del Mar 21:39 Pathetique - Dis Moi - Instrumental Cafe Costes Del Mar Sunset Hotel Chillout Mix 21:34 Ringo Orenji - Mikan 21:29 Miraflores - Waves Of Love 21:24 Ziller - Pearl & Dean 21:19 Pines - Tell Me (Feat. Water Park) 21:12 Salt Tank - Sargasso Sea 21:06 Pep Llado Feat. Antonio Martin - Vai Vedere 21:02 The Avener & Mazzy Star - Fade Into You (The Avener Rework) 20:57 Ling Ludd - Waterfront Dub 20:53 Synkro - Memories Of Love 20:49 Flume Feat. Andrew Wyatt - Some Minds 20:42 Massive Gold - Follow Me (Feat Jaywee) (Chillout Del Mar Cafe Instrumental) 20:37 Farbor Resande Mac - Stockholmsnatt 20:29 Detson Engeneering - Wonderland 20:22 Space Manoeuvres - The Seventh Planet (Leama & Moor Mix) 20:15 Lullaby Lounge - Chill Del La Mer (Blank Cafe Relax Mix) 20:10 Maricopa - Sun Scope 20:03 Rediophonic - Desert Wind 19:59 The Angelica Project - Another Skin 19:53 Sly - Like Love (Original Mix) 19:48 Lange - Frozen Beach 19:43 Jeff Woodal - Silver Birch 19:37 Smooth Deluxe - Ibiza Sundown (Cafe Buddah Mix) 19:32 Night Loungers - A Little Lazy Morning In Paris - French Kiss Del Mar Instrumental 19:26 Alpha X - Nocturnal Trip 19:21 Peter Pearson - With All My Love (Bliss) 19:15 Naoki Kenji - Bedtime 19:11 Afterlife - How Does It Feel 19:05 Nautic - Freedom Of The Floor (Open Space Remix) 19:00 Miro - The Cure 18:55 Manoa - Walk This Way 18:48 Noel - Hold Me (Relax Lounge Cafe Chillout Mix) 18:43 Hirudo - Waiting For The Sun To Rise (Out Of Style Mix) 18:38 Cold Blue - Underwater Love 18:34 For - For Want Of Her 18:29 Green Lemon Feat Magica Fe - 11 O Clock (Pure Beach Cut) 18:22 Alex Cortiz - Ibiza Trumpet Thing 18:16 Kosta Rodriguez - Purple Sky 18:12 Lemon Sol - Beautiful Morning (Piano Cafe Chillout To Ibiza Del Mar) 18:05 Jjos & Fede Garcia - Foolish Game (Feat Deary's) 18:00 Triangle Sun - Beautiful 17:54 Future Loop Foundation - Monika's Summer 17:51 Urban Phunk Society - Spring 2 Summer 17:45 Victor G. De La Fuente Feat. S - Tu Despertar (Original Chill M 17:38 Vibrasphere - Spring Flood 17:33 Jjos - Back To Me 17:28 Peter Linski Experience - Everything Flows 17:21 Fenomenon - Pacific Memories 17:17 Alex Cortiz - Phusion 17:12 Polished Chrome - Mala (Original Mix) 17:07 Noise Boyz - Honeytrap (Keys & Trumpet Mix) 17:04 Isan - No. 1 (Lent Et Douloureux) 16:58 Lounge Worship - Above All (Instrumental) 16:53 Sinan - 99 Reasonsfeat. Omenzeter 16:48 Liquid Kings - Hang Up, Feel Free (Lounge Mix) 16:39 Va - Soar Angelic 16:34 L'art Mystique - Le Jardin Secret 16:29 Atb - Remember That Day 16:22 Philip Aniskin - Evening On The Waves 16:18 Mirrored - Stand Still 16:14 Five Seasons - In Your Town 16:06 Tactful - No Fear 16:00 Jjos - Lonely (Feat. María La Caria) Manu López-saxo (Lounge Mix) 15:56 Sofa Surfers - Sofa Rockers (Richard Dorfmeis 15:51 Beach Armada - Ocean Eyes (Oriental Chill Groove Cafe Mix) 15:48 William Orbit - Love My Way 15:42 Wonderphazz - Memories (Chill Guide Mix) 15:36 Kiss Audio - The Voice Of Freedom (Spiritual Version) 15:32 Mastermind - Empty Road 15:25 Royspop - Mid Summer Nights (Luxury Deluxe Del Mar Mix) 15:18 Magic Waves Feat. Mirjam - Tonight 15:14 Ben Leela - Dreaming A Dream 15:09 Ralph Hildenbeutel - Hommage A Noir 15:04 Jupiter Jack - Blank Space 15:00 Soleil Fisher - Beautiful Nights In Ibiza (Tribute To Cafe Del Mar Mix) 14:54 Mamani - Glowing Desert (Aloe Trumpet Mix) 14:47 Dj Disse - Walk On The Wild Side 14:44 Vibraphile - Waiting For You (Instrumental) 14:37 Muki - Track 4 14:32 Coolinar - Wednesday Night 14:27 Orange Music - Islandlover (Monotonic Trip Mix) 14:23 Moon Tribe - Moon Tribe 14:18 Dab - Pure Joy 14:12 Visit Venus - Home 14:08 Gelka Feat. Phoenix Pearle - Flying On Clouds 14:01 Oxen Butcher Feat. Lisa Eaton - Love & Happiness (Original Mix) 13:53 Deep-dive-corp. - Bassic (Flow Mix) 13:49 Erotic Lounge Deluxe - Gimme The Night 13:45 Mario & Vidis Feat. Jazzu - I'll Be Gone (Extended Original) 13:39 Sofa Sweeper - The Sad Side Of The Street (Mellow Guitar Mix) 13:34 Lemonjazz - Gypsy Woman (Erotic Bedroom Affairs Lounge Chill Mix) 13:30 Adrien Aubrun - My Last Poem 13:26 Andras & Oscar - (I Know) What You Want 13:21 Va - Majorca 13:15 Pusteblume - Cold As Ice (Beautiful Chillout Mix) 13:11 Jjos - Body & Soul 13:04 Ypey - Love In Spain 12:59 Mark Gorbulew's Manhattan Groove - Dreamsville 12:52 Chilloutlounge - Allstars 12:49 Dr. Meaker - Need Love 12:43 Nujazzy - On A Sunday Morning (Facebook Affair Mix) 12:37 Caya Levantado - Caribbean Daydreaming ( Jazzy Del Mar Cafe Lounge Mix0 12:31 Ohm-g & Bruno - One 12:27 Peter Pearson - It's In The Stars (Original Mix) 12:23 A$ap Rocky - L$d 12:18 Amethystium - Isabliss - Strangely Beautiful 12:13 Mahoroba - Faire On Tour (Jazzmatic Lounge Mix) 12:07 Rue Du Soleil - Essential Feelings 12:02 Alex Cortiz - Fingerprints 11:56 Blue Metheny - I'm Calling Out 11:51 Sleepingroom Armada - Hope (Feat Inocencia Comas) (Easy Erotic Groove Lounge Mix) 11:45 Jjos - Falling 11:39 Blue Chakra - Free From You (Half Tempo Long Chill Mix) 11:33 Michael E - Sark Of Searenity 11:27 Bright And Beautiful - Night Rains - Sound Of Ibiza Mix 11:21 Pacator - Tränen (Marcielo Ambient Mix Instrumental) 11:15 Martin Bro - To Lose Part 11:09 Moon De Lounge - Melodia Amore - Buddha Lounge Bar Chillout Mix 11:03 Henderson - Rain (Desansis Chill Out Mix) 10:57 Réve De Cabaret - Trust Me 10:52 Coronado (Pianofly Mix) - Bay Area 10:47 Roberto Sol - Miles Beyond 10:41 Lenny Mac Dowell - Zanzibar Feeling 10:34 Sweet Velvet - Recalling The Rising Sun 10:29 Pilgrims Of The Wind - Nothing Can Pull Us Apart 10:23 Steven Solveig - Boa Noite 10:18 Kaxamalka - True Vibe 10:11 Timewarp Inc - Epic Tones Feat Rxn (Sundayman 10:07 Amethystium - Calantha 10:03 Chris Coco Mts Afterlief - Home 09:57 Esteban Garcia Vs. Subworks - Runnin (Jazzy Dub Mix) 09:54 Claes Rosen & Natalie Peris - Stay 09:48 Schwarz & Funk - Remando Al Viento 09:44 Out Of Sight - Comfort (Afterlife Mix) 09:38 Melibea - Jam In Dawn 09:33 Green Lemon Feat Magica Fe - 11 O Clock (Pure Beach Cut) 09:26 Manoa - Jumaira Drive 09:21 Va - Red Muladhara 09:15 Atjazz - Storm 09:10 Koolsax - Evasion 09:04 Sunyata Project Feat. Miyabi - Inner Lights 08:59 Gary B - Set Me Free 08:55 The Fairchild - Piano Colors 08:50 Sleepingroom Armada - Hope - Easy Erotic Groove Lounge Mix 08:45 Boozoo Bajou Feat. Wayne Martin - Every Hour 08:41 Tall Paul Vs Inxs - Precious Heart 08:34 Laid Back - Sunshine Reggae (Peter Visti's & Stella Polaris Remix) 08:28 Various - The Cure (Sunshine Mix) 08:22 Bong & Eddie M - Rain From The Suite 902 (Original) 08:16 Phillip Ashmore - Luxury Living 08:10 Cafe Del Mar - Leftfield - Fanfare Of Life 08:04 Fresh Moods - Solarcell 07:58 Leaking Shell - After Hour 07:53 Jo Manji - Lazy Loungin 07:47 Bay Area - Santa Monica Blvd (No 17 Mix) 07:43 Karminsky Experience Inc - Departures 07:37 Wharmton Rise - The Augur Revisited 07:30 Coastline - Adriatic Sea - Lounge Cafe Chillout Del Mar Mix 07:24 Citrus Jam - Pacific Snow 07:20 Faith Hill - Love Ain't Like That 07:14 Chicane - Saltwater (The Thrillseekers Remix) 07:08 Blue Six - Love Yourself 07:04 Va - For Want Of Her 07:01 Bryan El - Ascension 06:55 Jjos - Foolish Game (Feat. Deary's) (Evolution Vocal Mix) 06:51 Sunlounger - Balearic Breakfast(Chill) 06:47 Marc C. Griso - Sex, The First Time 06:43 Air - Lost Message 06:38 James Bright - Be 06:33 Arrojas - Didascalias 06:29 Emapea - Laka 06:23 Frank Borell - Somber Moods 06:19 Lowland - Cafe Del Mar 06:13 Nimino - The Back Of Your Hands (Ft. Ashe) 06:07 Man In The Moon Feat.debora Vilchez - Fragil 06:01 Chilloutlounge - Breather 2000 (Arithunda Mix) 05:57 Bop - Enjoy The Moment (Unquote Remix) 05:51 Zero 7 - Space Between, The 05:45 Sven Andersson Iii - Journey To Your Soul (Cosmic Cycle Buddha Lounge Bar Mix) 05:41 Petit Biscuit - Sunset Lover 05:37 Lemon Sol - Beautiful Morning (Piano Cafe Chillout To Ibiza Del Mar) 05:32 Flamingo - My Friend (Mercer & Gissal Chilled Version) 05:27 T Mo - La Ritournelle 05:23 P.m F.m - Chinchilla 05:17 De Clive-lowe, Mark - Day By Day 05:10 Schwarz & Funk - Night Over Bangkok 05:05 Omega3 & Guitarigi - Food (Original) 04:58 Dr Drummer - Galactica Soul 04:51 Alex Cortiz - Deja Vu 04:47 Noise Boyz - With My Own Eyes (Keys Of Da Sea Mix) 04:39 Ibiza - Ibiza Blues Swing 04:35 Vanegas - Te Voy A Querer 04:30 Lux - Head Centre 04:25 Fidelity - You Don't Know 04:19 Guenter Haas - Ai Fu Lin 04:15 A$ap Rocky - L$d 04:10 Va - Serpentine 04:04 San Martino - Es Cavalett (Piano Dream Mix) 03:59 Coastline - Adriatic Sea - Dj Lounge Del Mar Vs. Milews Ambience Mix 03:55 Sunset People - Summer Madness (White Sand Cut) 03:49 Jjos - Heartbeat (Balearic Club Mix) 03:45 Juan Belda & Carlo Galimberti - Wine Sessions 03:40 Shakes Seven - Best Friends 03:36 Vanilla - Dreamcatcher 03:30 Tosca - Mango Di Bango 03:25 Lounge Aura - Something (Geronimo Chillout Mix) 03:19 Banderas - This Is Your Life (Easy Life Mix) 03:13 Exit Mars - Gliding (Comfort Version) 03:05 Bent - Swollen (Napoleon Remix) 03:00 Dreamscape - Electric Emotion 02:55 Polished Chrome - Beautiful 02:51 Riccardo Eberspacher - I Feel Love 02:45 New Beginning - Another Day 02:40 Dab - Pure Joy 02:36 Vibrasphere - Tierra Azul (Omnimotion Feat. Krister Linder Remix) 02:29 Jean Martin - In My Dreams (Extended Remix) 02:22 Joey Fehrenbach - Particles 02:17 Peter Pearson - Smooth Talking (Moonrise) 02:12 Luxury Traveller - Eagle Will Rise Again 02:06 Coastline - Adriatic Sea (Lounge Cafe Chillout Del Mar Mix) 02:00 Rae & Christian - Still Here 01:54 4tunes - In The Middle 01:48 Avalona - Empty Streets 01:42 Silent Poets - Moment Scale 01:36 The Sura Quintet - Relax In Sura 01:32 Melibea - Lamento (Al Ponerse El Sol) 01:23 Chilloutlounge - Track 3 01:18 Gary B - Love Rain Down 01:14 Vio Beach - Piano Chillout (Ambient Dream Mix) 01:10 Mystique - Essences (Rico Van Basten Chill Mix) 01:05 Mahoroba - Faire On Tour (Jazzmatic Lounge Mix) 01:00 Joey Fehrenbach - Untouchable (Feat. Vi Flaten) 00:57 K Vassiliadis Ft Marien - Den Efiges Lepto (Dub Mix) 00:50 Milews - Miami Beach View - Sunset Del Mar Cafe Lounge Mix 00:46 Ac - Meditarrean Sundance 00:42 Synthetic Substance - Eternity 00:38 Kalabi - Clear Skies 00:33 Un Homme Et Une Femme - Une Rose Pour Emily (Cafe Hotel French Del Mar Mix) 00:28 Sunsea - Light The Fire (Chillout Mix) 00:23 Ohm-g - Relax 2 The Max 00:17 Limelight - Oxygene 4 00:08 Chilling Crew - Frozen Time 00:05 Gabriel Le Mar - Seaside (Original Version)

#1.FM - Chillout Lounge Radio #Chillout #Lounge #Downtempo #Ambient #Trance #2023 #February 2023

[bellatrixobsessed1]

First Moon

I did it! I managed to get the Regina/Ruby one done too.

Summary: Red helps the Evil Queen through her first full moon.

“First time, huh?”

Her vision is fuzzy, she can only barely make out the hand that has been extended to her.

She reaches for the hand.

Tries to grab it.

She misses, swatting clumsily and limply at the air until that hand catches hers.

She is dizzy and confused. She can’t quite remember exactly what has happened. She is shivering. Late winter air, rich with pine sap and distant chimney smoke smothers her bare skin with brutal, stinging kisses. Even without the extra fragrances the winter has its own smell, sharp and pure.

Somehow the moonrays are colder.

Colder than the iciest snowflakes.

There is a generous spattering of snow on the ground, freshly fallen from the looks of it. Not enough to hide the forest floor, but enough of it has amassed for footprints to be left within it. She can see her breath as it makes its way up to the night sky. Up to cold blue stars. Her body trembles twice as violently.

She looks up the length of her arm, it is covered in cuts and scrapes, some of which are infested with pine needles and dirt. This time the shudder is born of knowing that her body is probably rippling and rife with infection.

From somewhere deep in the forest she can hear grunts and groans.

And howls.

Her body stiffens.

Howls.

Even she knows that it is a horrible idea to be out during the wolf moon. The wolves don’t care for frivolous titles. They’ll slaughter her all the same. And yet she is out and about. Out in an open clearing no less, with moonlight washing over her.

Over her bloody skin.

“Can you stand?” The woman asks.

Regina isn’t sure. “I–” She gives it an attempt. Her legs feels so weak and sore. All of her feels sore. Sore and tight. She can hold herself upright but just barely. “Did they bite me?” She looks her body up and down. It is just cuts, scrapes and bruises as far as she can tell. But perhaps they have bitten her back or on the shoulder. She grazes her fingers down her neck and over her shoulders. The skin there is smooth and had been free of blood until she dragged her fingers down it.

She exhales. She wasn’t bitten.

“They didn’t bite me.” She says aloud.

“You don’t remember, do you?” Her expression is sympathetic. “I didn’t either the first few times. I had no clue.”

Regina swallows. “What are you trying to imply.” She takes a step towards the woman. One step is all that it takes, her legs can handle no more and they buckle beneath her. The other woman catches her and lowers the both of them carefully back to the forest floor.

She pulls the cloak off of her shoulders and drapes it around Regina’s. Red, vivid, blinding red. “The first moon is always the worst.”

“First moon?” She says quietly.

And Red nods. “Usually people don’t remember the first two or three. Which is probably a good thing, the first transformation is agonizing.”

Regina furrows her brows.

Pain.

She thinks that she remembers pain. The all encompassing sort that licked and seared its way over her body until not a limb, hair, and patch of skin had been left untouched. In and out she had felt stretched and torn.

“I’m cold.” Her voice is hoarse.

“Yeah, I’d say. Now that the fur is gone…”

She swallows again, a chill icier than the frigid air around her blossoms in the pit of her stomach. “But there are no bite marks. They didn’t get me…”

“Maybe not tonight but you were definitely bitten at some point.” Red frowns. “That’s kind of how this whole werewolf thing works.”

“I think that I would know if I was bitten.”

Red hums. “Not necessarily. A werewolf in human form can also turn you with a bite if it's close enough to the wolf moon.” She helps tie secure the cloak around Regina’s body. “Do you remember anything like that?”

Her stomach lurches.

She remembers the boy.

The little boy at the side of the road.

The one for whom she’d stalled her carriage for.

He had looked so lonely and so very forlorn…

The ungrateful whelp took a chunk out of her hand.

She stares at her palm. At the faint scars–human teeth marks, crooked and small. She glances up at Red. At the friend of her enemy.

“You do, don’t you?” Red sweeps Regina’s bangs out of her face.

Regina can feel herself deflating in her resignation. Has she not been through enough already? “I’m not…I can’t be…”

“It isn’t so bad.” Red shrugs. “It just takes some getting used to.”

Regina rubs her hands over her face.

“Why don’t we get you inside?”

She furrows her brows. “Why?”

“Because you don’t have fur and you aren’t wearing clothes. And it’s freezing out here, your skin is turning bright red.”

“I mean why do you care what happens to me? You’re close with Snow White, are you not? You could just leave me here and I can’t imagine that anyone would have a problem with it.” She pauses. “They might thank you for it.”

Red helps her to her feet once more. “Here, you can lean on me.” She holds Regina steady. “I’m helping you because I’m friends with Snow White and I know that she wouldn’t leave you to freeze to death…or deal with your first full moon alone.”

She feels queasy all over again.

“An evil queen and a wolf. That’s quite a terrifying combination, wouldn’t  you say?”

“Yes, I suppose that it is.” She could do quite some damage if she can learn how to control her transformations.

“My place isn’t too far

“Is it a cave in the middle of the woods?”

“Why would you think that?”

“Because you’re a werewolf.”

“Do you live in a cave in the middle of the woods?”

“I–! Well you have been a werewolf for a long time now.”

“Are you planning on moving into the woods anytime soon?”

Regina gives an indignant sniff.

“Exactly.” Red.

She is awfully smug right now.

.oOo.

It isn’t an awful place, this little hovel. It is cozy enough with a very enticingly roaring fire. Red wraps her in a very heavy quilt. The wool is scratchy against her neck, but God does she crave the warmth of it.

“Granny made that for me when I was a kid.”

Regina nods.

“So have you thought it over? I’ll help you deal with this whole werewolf thing if you agree to let Snow be.”

“I can deal with this affliction on my own. I have plenty of people who can help me should I need it.”

“Yeah. People. You need another werewolf. Or you might just find yourself slaughtering your own men.”

The Queen shrugs. “I already do that. I just don’t use claws.” She holds her hand up and gives her fingers a flex. She frows at her chipped and broken nails. To think, she had just gotten them done.

“It's a very vulnerable position to be in. The transformation is. Do you trust any of them to take care of you when you go through it? Do you trust them to help take you through it when you are coming back to your human form again?”

“I managed just fine tonight.”

“I can’t speak for your werewolf transformation but I can tell you that you were screaming and bawling on the way back.” Red shrugs.

“I certainly wasn’t.”

“You certainly don’t remember doing it.  But you did. If you need proof you can go to the mirror and see your running makeup. There are plenty of werewolf hunters that would have used that as an opening, you could have been killed mid-transformation. Does that sound fun to you? It only takes one ‘trusted’ guard losing enough composure to decide to just kill you and be done with it.” She pauses. “I had Granny to make sure that, that didn’t happen to me.”  

“Let’s say that I did cry. Why should I trust you?”

“Because I know what it’s like to be that vulnerable and however I feel about you, I couldn’t bring myself to attack you while you’re in between, it’s a cowardly move. But fearful men do cowardly things.” She hands Regina a cup of ale. “Aren’t you tired of being alone?”

Regina’s breath hitches.

Truthfully she is exhausted.

“All you have to do is put this whole revenge thing to the side.”

All she has to do is give up everything she knows, her only purpose in life. And what will she become if she does.

“Let me help you, Regina.”

“That’s your majesty to you.”

Red cups her hand against her cheek. “Not tonight it isn’t. You aren’t even wearing your crown.”

Regina sniffs. “And you’re not wearing your red riding hood. Are you no longer Red?”

Red chuckles. “Okay, that’s fair.” She strokes Regina’s cheek.

Regina closes her free hand around the woman’s wrist. It has been so long since someone has given her such a tender touch. So long since anyone has tried to care for her, let alone successfully wrapped a draped a blanket over her shoulders. She grips the ale mug.

“Now that you’re warmed up I can wash those cuts for you. Granny gave me a whole bunch of herbs that will prevent infection.”

Regina clears her throat. “I suppose that, that sounds well enough.”

“Great.”

Regina watches her shuffle about the in the adjacent room. She comes back with several cloths, a bowl of water, and a creamy herb mixture. Regina hisses when the woman first brings the cloth to the gash on her arm. But the woman is gentle. She dabs the cloth as lightly as she can while still cleansing thoroughly.

Regina finds herself shaking her head. Her cheeks are getting damp again. Red withdraws the cloth. “I’m not hurting you am I?”

“No.” Regina responds quietly. Quite the opposite.

“Then what’s wrong?”

“I just…” She misses Daniel so much. He used to do this for her after falls from horses or misadventures in the woods. “I’m not used to…”

“Having someone help you?” Red guesses.

Regina nods.

“Well you will be if you take me up on my offer.”

Regina finds herself averting her gaze to the ceiling. She takes a deep breath. But how can she? How can she just let all of her ambitions go? How can she let that anger go? It is the only thing that holds her aloft these days.

Red squeezes her hand. “You don’t have to be afraid…”

“I’m not!” She snaps.

She’s not afraid.

She is terrified.

The prospect alone is horrifying.

“You can still be happy. You can still have love…”

She really is Snow’s friend. Regina shakes her head. “You said it yourself, I’m an evil queen and a werewolf. I can’t imagine that there will be suitors lining up for that.”

Red quirks a brow. “I’d line up for that.”

“You’d be the only one.”

“Great, I don’t like waiting in lines anyhow.” She continues with the cleansing.

“And how would Granny feel about that?”

“Probably the way she felt about me dating Peter when I was sixteen.” Red shrugs. “She couldn’t stop me then and, hypothetically speaking, if I were to fall for an evil werewolf queen while helping her deal with full moons, she couldn’t stop me now.”

“Your hypotheticals are oddly specific.”

“Maybe they’re a bit more than just hypothetical. They could be anyhow.”

Regina takes another deep breath and a sip of ale. It warms her belly as Red’s offer warms her cheeks. “I, yes, I suppose that they could be.”

“So that’s a yes then?” Red asks. “You’re going to take me up on my offer?”

Regina spares a glance at the widow. At the full moon that is slowly disappearing as dawn  works its way in. The last rays of the moon fall upon her face. “I suppose I can.” But only because she would rather not face another full moon alone.

Red grins. “Great! You won’t regret it. I promise.”

#Once Upon A Time #Regina Mills #Ruby Lucas #Red Queen #Wolf Queen #Regina/Ruby #One Shot #Fanfiction #Werewolf

[beeindaclouds]

mom. prince!george x princess!reader x prince!dream (yes, a poly relationship)

Guess who's back after 2-3 months :D

Wait, how long ahs it been, oh god-

Well this moot og mine has by now deactivated, so they'll never get to see this request, but I stil wanted to write it for them ^^

Hope you enjoy <3

"Why choose only one?" pt. 1 [DNF Poly]

Requests are closed

Reader: She/Her

It's common for a princess such as yourself to reach the age where she needs to start thinking of her future as Queen

And every Queen needs her beloved King by her side

That's why your parents, the soon the be formal King and Queen, prepared a ball in hopes of finding the next to their throne

Were you happy about this? No, but you didn't really have a choice

During the entire ball not even one prince had caught your attention. They all seemed either too confident or too boring

So you told you're parents you'd go out to clear your head in the garden, also a great way to escape from all the sickening eyes that have been glued to you all night

There you saw him, one of the prettiest men you've ever stumbled upon

Sitting lonely on the water fountain, bathing under the moon light that made him shine like the stars that covered the sky that night

Surprised by the prince you accidentally made a noise and ended up catching his attention

He introduced himself as George, prince of the Mushroom Kingdom

You two started talking, the conversation flowing just like the water from the fountain you were both seated on

It's like you two have known eachtoher for years, like you've been friends this entire time, like it was meant to be

The conversation was unfortunately cut short by one of your maids, requesting your attendance at the final ball

George had to unfortunately leave, but you couldn't get him out of your head while you were dancing with all the uninteresting princes

Until his turn. The masked prince.

Nobody knew who he was, or from which kingdom he came from, they only knew him as Prince Dream

You stared at the smiley faced mask as the man swayed you around the dance floor

It may sound cliche, but being with him made you feel like you two were the only ones there. No one glaring daggers into your back or whispering about your doings..it was only you and him. Just like a dream

As the song came to an end, the man leaned closer and pushed his mask to the side, showing off half of his face to you

He gave you a wink and left a kiss on your hand, before walking out of the castle and dissapearing without a trace

That night you couldn't sleep. How lucky of you to meet two amazing princes.

The sweet and easy going George, who had this calm nature to himself but could also be very energetic at times

And the mysterious Dream, who always brought chills onto your skin as he passed through your mind

Making the decision was hard...they both seemed like perfect choices

But...why choose only one?

I got too into writing this one...I think I might make a part two so, STAY TUNED!

#dreamsmp #dsmp #mcyt #dream smp x reader #dsmp x reader #mcyt x reader #dreamsmpblurb #dsmpblurb #mcytblurb #dream x reader #dreamblurb #georgenotfound x reader #georgenotfoundblurb #dnf x reader #beeblurbs

[favoniuscodex]

"kiss me" with diluc? 👀

pairing: diluc x gn!reader

a/n: diluc... 🥰

the moon rests in the sky overhead, tinted a peculiar shade of golden. what locals called the “mora moon” is often viewed as a sign of good luck as the full moon shines bright overhead. you and diluc, however, view it as a night of opportunity. a larger, brighter moon means more moonlight: an advantage for you both in your fight against the abyss order, who much preferred the refuge of darkness that night often offered. you, a mage who stuck their nose where it didn’t belong, and diluc, a lone wolf who barely understood what the word teamwork barely meant, were an unlikely pair.

but now, as the two of you catch your breath, sitting down in front of the exit of the domain you just cleared, you both realize that there’s nobody else you’d rather (or would) fight alongside in such evening rendezvous. you lean against the stone exit, slumping down slightly as fatigue consumes you. concern shines in diluc’s eyes, just as the faint sheen of sweat that makes loose hairs cling to his skin glistens on his forehead, and the winery owner takes a step closer to you.

“are you injured?” he asks, sounding about as tired as you feel. you laugh and shake your head.

“i should be asking you that. you’re the front line, after all.” you say, yet diluc only extends a hand out to you in order to help you up.

“you fought well.” diluc commends you, yet his lips faintly twitch as if he wishes to say more, but doesn’t know how. you understand his reluctance to leave. the both of you make no inclination to be the first to move. despite the shared adrenaline that courses through your veins every fight, diluc has kept you at arms length, viewing your relationship as nothing more than business and ignoring the way he puts his life on the line for you almost every night.

“starsnatch cliff is just overhead. we can rest there. it’s likely to be devoid of any enemies tonight,” you blurt and diluc’s eyes widen slightly at your offer. the suggestion is a foolish one. you wholeheartedly expect your fighting partner to say that he has business to attend to the following day, but much to your surprise, he nods his acceptance. you take his outstretched hand and stand up, yet as you stumble forward a bit, diluc’s grip tightens on your hand as his other arm reaches out to brace you. you let out a short, bashful laugh before recorrecting your posture and glancing away from him, missing the faint hue of pink that crosses his cheeks at your unintentional actions.

as the two of you walk, diluc doesn’t let go of your hand, yet you don’t dare comment on it. instead, you let him lead. after all, he knows mondstadt best. the two of you don’t quite make it to the top of the cliff, where many young mondstadtians frolic and whisper enamored promises to each other. instead, diluc elects to sit under a tree, spreading out his familiar black coat on the ground for the two of you to sit on. much to your surprise, a faint chuckle escapes him as you nearly collapse onto the ground next to him with a tired huff.

“i have not been here since i was a kid.” diluc says and you playfully scoff at his words.

“what, did you bring people up here to make out with?” you joke, gesturing at the two lovers at the top of the cliff whose faces are melting into one. diluc flushes at your implication and shakes his head.

“nothing of the sort. it was a good training area, that’s all.” diluc says and you let out a laugh at his sudden shyness.

“training in the one spot known for lovers? interesting.” you say and diluc turns and stares at you, confused.

“if you believe the area to be for lovers, then why did you wish to spend time here with me?” diluc says. his words are emotionless and you can feel his walls rising, but you pay them no mind as you look upward at the stars above.

“i’ve never been here before,” you confess. “i heard the stars are quite beautiful.”

you lean back against the trunk of the tree as you stare up at the stars above. a cool breeze passes over the two of you and you instinctively nestle yourself closer to diluc, seeking shelter from the chill of the night. out of the corner of your eye, you spot his cheeks glowing with a deep red hue and you bite back a laugh. as your eyes twinkle with amusement and mischief, you decide to push your luck and lean in closer to diluc, moving to rest your head on his shoulder.

“y’know, you’d probably have a more fun time staring at the stars than at me, master diluc.” you tease, only to feel him stiffen next to you. you laugh lightly, yet diluc only clears his throat.

“suppose i find you to be more beautiful than the constellations above. is that such a sin?” diluc murmurs and, this time, it’s your turn to stiffen. you lift your head off your shoulder to meet his nervous vermillion gaze and a grin breaks out across your face.

“if you believe me to be so beautiful, then why don’t you prove it to me?” you challenge and diluc’s rosy cheeks are fully presented under the vast amount of moonlight that shines down on the two of you.

“how?” he breathes. for all of the stars in the sky, diluc looks at you as if you have stolen them all and display them in your own, staring at you with an expression just short of awe.

“kiss me.” you murmur and he obeys your command, lifting a hand up to your cheek and holding you gently, as if you are crafted of the fragile cecilia petals that bloom not too far away from the two of you. his lips taste of fire and bloodshed, yet the taste is intoxicating as you finally learn what secrets flames hold within them as you capture diluc ragnvindr on your own lips.

#diluc x reader #genshin impact x reader #writing.diluc #axia.writing

[anathemafiction]

Eve of Hallows — Alessa

It's not a dark, stormy night. 

The sky is clear, not blue but not black either. Stars shine from far above, countless candles flickering gently, while a half-moon fills the east with its pale light. 

There's a faint breeze in the air, you can feel its soft fingers shuffling through your clothes, and while the air isn't warm, the breeze doesn't chill either. It simply touches, unhurriedly, not lingering, and then onwards it goes. Refusing to stay in just one place. 

You crane your neck and take a deep breath, stretching your legs until the muscles pull in a welcomed kind of pain, a brief recall that you're alive. Here, in a night preceding a day meant only for the dead. 

"'Tis quite disappointing, is it not?" A familiar voice breaks the quiet, and your lips immediately quirk at the sound. Alessa's shape emerges from the night to sit beside you, one knee tucking beneath the other and hands setting on the back. 

The stars are many, the moon is beautiful, and the breeze is as soothing as an Autumn breeze can ever be. But you take your eyes from the wonders of the world to focus them on Alessa. Moonlight bathes her profile, making her freckles stand out even further, and the long shadows above her lips only accentuate the smirk she wears on them. 

Her eyes, however, are fixed on the sky, but you can see she watches you, so your smile grows bigger and you decide to indulge her. "What is it that disappoints you so, my dear Alessa?" 

Her own smirk grows, still not looking at you, and you think then, as you watch her arch an eyebrow and shrug with one shoulder. As you listen to her voice, ringing with amusement. How are you supposed to ever ignore her? "We have all heard the tales about tonight, after all," Alessa says. "Tales made for fools by fools."

"The Eve of Hallow," you say, looking over the square. No one walks it, as no one walks the streets either. The city is as lonely and deserted as a cemetery, but there are fires burning inside the homes. People are awake but too fearful to leave the door. "The night when the departed souls come to pay a visit."

As if four walls could stop a spirit. 

Alessa scoffs in her sharp, brief way. "The very one."

Her right hand is right beside you, fingers adorned with rings made of silver and gold. You curl your fingers into a fist as you fight the urge to hold them. To hold her. "So what about it disappoints you?" you ask. "Did you expect to see ghosts roaming the streets?"

That makes her finally look at you. Her blue eyes are narrowed, but shining at the corners, and her smirk is so wide, it can only be called a smile. "Is that your perception of me?" she asks, leaning closer to you. And you didn't mean to, but you catch yourself watching the shadows shifting on her lips. "One of the fools who believe the tales?"

(…)

The entire piece is available on Patreon!

#Alessa #The Golden Rose #Patreon

[lucyintheskywithxanax]

But Tonight - We Were The Lucky Ones

Pairing: Wilhemina Venable x Fem Reader

Requested by @lntlmate : “Wilhemina x Reader with “Why are you wearing my sweater?” “Because it smells like you.” “

A/N: don’t ask me what happened to your request. I don’t know. This is set in the world in which the Apocalypse never happened. x

Word count: ≈ 3 000

Most nights she dreamt of you. She hated it at first, how you had found your way into her sleep, how her mind seemed to need you even when it was resting. But then she grew to love it. It meant she could be in your company always.

Some nights she didn’t remember what she dreamt of.

Some nights she dreamt of things that did not make sense, things that were built of little bits and pieces of her past or the last movie she saw.

Some nights she dreamt of another life in which she had been given the keys to a kingdom and she had sat on the throne and she had given up and made herself unlovable.

Some nights she dreamt she was alone again.

The light from the candles was flickering on the man’s eyes and turning his hair to gold like Midas’ touch. Wilhemina didn’t know who he was or what he was doing here, but she knew she hated him. She felt it – the hatred. The fear, also – but why was she afraid?

Ms Mead, she heard herself repeat – repeat? It seemed to her she had already said it. It seemed to her the woman was taking entirely too long. To do what? She couldn’t remember. Had she ever known? Probably.

The man’s face looked peaceful and confident. Ms Mead’s hand was trembling and her eyes were turning shiny, and when Wilhemina turned to look at her, really look at her, she saw the gun in her hand that was trembling and she saw that the gun was pointed at her.

She glanced down at the gun. Back up to lock eyes with Ms Mead. She was vaguely aware that something terribly wrong was going on. She was vaguely aware that Ms Mead was - but she didn’t have time to finish this thought, for then there was a gunshot and radiating pain in her chest.

She brought one hand to where it hurt, eyes opening wide as she let out a gasp. Ms Mead’s face – tears rolling down her cheeks in the flickering candle light. Wilhemina felt something like anger and like fear and like betrayal – betrayal? She vaguely remembered that she had offered her trust to this woman. That this woman had been meant to obey and love her unconditionally. A deal had been made, the pain in her chest, it was hard to breathe now.  

She tried to inhale, but as if she were under water liquid instead of air seeped into her lungs. Wrong, she thought. She tried to reach out – she was lying on the ground, now - for someone, for the love adults had promised would find her. The healing? Love would heal her, adults had promised. Love would make her love herself. She was still waiting for the love that would turn all the lonely mornings into memories.

She tried to inhale again. Her lungs were filling up with blood and she couldn’t breathe. And why, she thought, as her fingers curled around nothing, had Ms Mead betrayed her?

Breathing was hurting too much. She would take one last breath, and then give up.

Reaching out, one last time. Just in case.

Not yet, she begged. I haven’t been found yet.

One breath.

Wilhemina gasped for air and shot up on the bed.

The darkness jumped on her and clutched at her chest. She tried to pry it away, clawing at her skin, gasping for air, but she was choking on the darkness and on the tears that were running down her cheeks for she was so afraid – fear, faceless and nameless, gripped her stomach.  

“Mina?”

Your voice was soft, and yet it made her jump. Dear God, she couldn’t breathe. She clawed at her chest, wheezing, her mouth opening on a silent cry for help but no sound came out.

“Mina? Baby, what’s wrong, what – “

She felt the mattress move. And then all of a sudden there was light, flooding the room and crashing against the walls and blinding her.

“Mina! Mina, stop it, stop – what are you doing?”

Fingers, wrapping around hers, trying to pull her hand away. “Don’t,” she whimpered, “don’t – ”

“Mina, sweetheart. Mina, you’re safe. Look at me, baby, look at me.”

As her eyes scanned the room, looking for monsters and golden hair and trembling hands pointing a gun to her chest, as the light revealed to her the details of the chest of drawers, the white of the ceiling, the shadows the bed threw on the floor, she felt a hand rest tentatively on her drenched cheek, her burning forehead, wiping the sweat and brushing her hair back from her eyes.

“It’s fine, Mina, it’s all fine. You’re safe.”

“But I –“

She extended her hand, looked at her palm. No blood. She looked down at her chest but there was no wound, only the angry red marks she had clawed on her skin.

“But I –“ she repeated.

A kiss, on her temple. She scanned the room again, just in case. Just to make sure there was no gun and no golden head of hair.

You had fallen silent beside her, peering worriedly at her and rubbing circles on her back. You knew she had had nightmares before – except before, she had awoken silently and you had found her sitting at the kitchen table drinking coffee or reading a book, her face only slightly paler than usual.

She had never told you what those dreams were about, and you had stopped asking after the third or fourth time. She wasn’t used to opening up and to sharing what bothered her. So what you would do instead was offer comfort. Genuine, nonjudgmental, undemanding. She wasn’t used to that, either. Didn’t know how to ask for it when she needed it.

Now you watched her as she tried to regain control of her breathing, one of her hands still clutching her chest, chin trembling in an effort not to break down.

You pressed another kiss to her temple, her skin sticky and hot, then to her cheekbone, avoiding her mouth to let her breathe.

“Mina?” you called.

Her eyes were glassy, haunted. You weren’t sure she was seeing the real world right now. You kept rubbing circles on her back, kept calling her name gently and quietly, until her eyes suddenly flicked to your face.

You tried to give her a smile. She scanned your face, touched a finger to your cheek as if to make sure you were real. You tilted your head and kissed the tip of her finger.

Her brow pushed up slightly in confusion. Her mouth opened, lips moving to form silent words you didn’t understand – and then her hand fell on the bed and lay between you two, palm facing the ceiling.

She reached out, just in case.

You looked down at her hand, uncomprehendingly at first. Her fingers twitched. So with a soft hum you took her hand, laced your fingers together and gently ran your thumb over hers.

One breath.

Wilhemina’s body sagged against yours as if all the strength had left her. Worriedly you wrapped one arm around her waist to support her and to pull her closer in.

You held her, whispering sweet nothings into her ear, pressing comfort in the form of kisses wherever you could reach; trying to make the best of this unguarded moment, because you knew it wouldn’t last. And as you had expected, soon enough she pulled away and straightened up. And her eyes glazed over again, but for a different reason this time.

“Stay here,” you sighed. “I’ll go make breakfast.”

“Go back to sleep,” she retorted, voice toneless, gaze avoiding yours.

“It’s 6am, Mina. I don’t think I’ll go back to sleep now. ”

You paused, studying her face as you waited for a reproof. It didn’t come. Somehow, that made your heart sink. Tonight’s dream must have been particularly bad.

With another sigh, you got up and crossed to the window. You opened it, opened the shutters, your eyes fluttering closed briefly as the cold night air tickled your face. There was a thin strip of light blue above the horizon. Right in front of you hung Venus, twinkling and glittering a welcome to the sun, shaking with anticipation.

“Mina,” you called over your shoulder, “come look at the sunrise.”

On any other night, she would have said no. Maybe she would even have added a snarky comment to let you know she refused to stoop to doing such useless things. Wilhemina Venable didn’t look at the sunrise to soothe the fear in her guts. She snapped at other people and took it out on them. It was still rather early in your relationship, and she was still learning to be kind.

But tonight – tonight, either she was badly shaken up, or she agreed to knock down yet another wall; in any case, you heard some rustling, soft footsteps, the clink of her cane. She didn’t press herself against you, didn’t reach for you, but stood close enough for her warmth to wrap around you and fight off the chill from outside.  

You watched in silence as the lighter blue slowly marked a bigger portion of the sky, like blood seeping from a wound, like a bruise spreading under the skin. After a reasonable amount of time had passed, you leaned back, to press your shoulders against Wilhemina’s.

Wilhemina stiffened. You waited, eyes riveted on Venus which was coughing and choking on the light blue blood. You waited, until your lower back started to hurt from your posture – and you were about to straighten up to relieve it, when two arms slipped around your waist and Wilhemina pressed you close against her chest.

You hummed happily as she rested her chin on your shoulder. Took one of her hands and gave it a squeeze – a “thank you”. A “I’m proud of you”.

You often thought of your relationship with Wilhemina as she being a stormy ocean and you an unskilled sailor, alone on your tiny boat. She never opened up to you if you didn’t ask her first, but then again, you couldn’t ask her at any random time. There were days when pushing her only made her close up. But tonight it seemed to you the ocean was quiet, barely a few ripples under a clear, star-studded sky. It seemed to you you could relax and stare at the reflection of the moon in the dark waters, and dip your fingers into it and listen to the ocean’s song.

You looked down at Wilhemina’s arms around your waist and smiled.

“Did you put on my sweater?” you asked in a whisper.

She nudged your neck. “It smells like you.”

“You’re getting soft,” you teased.

She didn’t reply.

For a moment you both stayed silent, staring at the slowly reddening sky. Then you gave Wilhemina’s hand a squeeze and whispered, “It was a bad one, wasn’t it.”

It wasn’t a question. You might not get a reply, but it didn’t matter. You only wanted her to know that you knew. That you were at arm’s reach if she needed you.

“I keep having those dreams,” Wilhemina whispered, surprising you. “Of me, in a dark place, subterranean maybe? I don’t know. It’s lit up by many candles and I seem to be in charge of everything. You aren’t there with me,” she added after a short pause.

This last confession was uttered so sadly, so hopelessly, you felt your chest tighten. You gave her hand another squeeze.

“In those dreams I –“She winced, cut herself short. You hummed in encouragement. “I can’t tell you.”

“Why not?”

“Because then you won’t love me anymore.”

You shook your head. “They are just dreams, baby.”

“They feel so real,” she breathed.

“But they’re not. This,” you squeezed her hand again, “is real. This is the real world.” A pause. “And in the real world, you are getting so much better at treating people right,” you teased.

Wilhemina didn’t react. You had expected a snort, a sigh, maybe a nip. You frowned, and turned in her arms to take a look at her face.

She was looking at the sky, her eyes dark and sad and tired. She met your gaze, didn’t even bother to return your smile.

“Was you being in charge of that place what tonight’s dream was about?” you asked softly, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.

“No, it was a different one.”

“Tell me?”

Her eyes were brimming with that sadness which used to inhabit them for days on end and which you had fought so hard to chase away. It told of years spent waking up to a quiet, empty house, setting the table for one, clearing her throat just to break the silence and reassure herself she was real. You would catch a glimpse of it still, once in a while, in moments of silence as well as of joy. It would always be here, you knew that – it would always be a part of her.  

“It was nothing,” Wilhemina whispered after a moment.

“It obviously wasn’t nothing,” you tried.

Her gaze hardened a little at that.

“I murdered a whole group of people,” she said in a suddenly firm, angry voice. “And before that, I fed them human meat.” She frowned, eyes glazing over again. “I was given power and I made everything I could to make their lives like hell and I enjoyed it.”

“Those are just dreams, Mina,” you replied, trying to hide the concern in your voice.

“But they feel so real,” Wilhemina breathed.

“But they are just dreams,” you repeated, firmer. “In this life, the only thing you murdered is my begonia.”

Wilhemina’s gaze focused on you again. “I did not mean to murder your begonia,” she said defensively.

“I know,” you chuckled, with a poke on her nose.”I would have left you if you had. Just kidding,” you added quickly when you saw the flash of alarm in her eyes.

Silence settled back between you two. Wilhemina looked at the sunrise, and you looked at Wilhemina as the light slowly painted details on her face.

Her eyes flicked back to you, now darker than the sky. She looked through you and frowned. “In this dream, a man and the only other person who mattered watched me die. I’m not afraid of death,” she added fiercely. “Or of the pain. But all the wasted –“She swallowed, frown deepening in thought. “All the wasted – not meeting you. Not getting to – not knowing how to –“

She huffed in frustration, tears pooling in her eyes.

“It’s okay,” you cooed, laying one hand on her cheek. “I think I know what you mean.”

“They just stood there watching me,” Wilhemina went on. She still wasn’t seeing you – and to the sadness in her eyes was now added a kind of desperate, hateful fury that grew and grew with every second ticking by. “And I died not knowing you and after I gave up on myself to –“

She swallowed back the last few words with a shaky breath.

“It was just a dream, Mina,” you said urgently, catching with your thumb the tears that were now rolling down her cheeks. “Look at me. You didn’t give up on yourself. Look at me,” you repeated, because you could see her drifting further and further away from you and you didn’t want her to sink where you could no longer reach her. “Look at me, baby.”

She blinked in an effort to. It seemed to you you could feel the panic thrumming right under her skin, clouding her brain, and you pressed her closer against you as if that could help her somehow, as if touch could help her share some of her burden with you – let it pass from her skin to yours.

“It was just a dream,” you said, your voice strained from the thickness in your throat. “You didn’t die. You found me, and I found you, and you didn’t give up on yourself.”

She blinked again, and this time her gaze cleared a little. You gave her a smile, holding her face in your hands and running your thumbs over her cheekbones.

“Look at me,” you breathed – and your mouth curled up again when she finally, finally met your eyes. You both drew in a breath at the same time. “There you go,” you beamed, a bit tearily.

She let out a chuckle wrapped in a breath, and shivered. You leaned in, pressed a soft kiss to her mouth; she eagerly kissed you back, and traced your lower lip with her tongue.

When she pulled away, she took a sniff of your sweater she was wearing, then buried her nose in your shoulder and breathed you in, as if to make sure of your scent and existence. Then she met your eyes again, and her brow tightened sadly, and her chin trembled.

Tough day ahead, you thought with a sigh. You slipped your arms around her shoulders and wrapped her up in a tight hug.

The sky was slowly turning the colour of ripe peaches, the colour of the blush that would bloom in Wilhemina’s cheeks when you praised her or called her beautiful.

Wilhemina synchronized her breathing with yours. There were thoughts in her head she did not know how to express without betraying everything she had ever believed in, logic, order, rationality, such as: Do you believe in past lives? or Do you believe in the universe throwing dice? and Do you believe in angels peering down at the world and deciding to be kind?

She couldn’t tell you that now. Maybe later, though, in a few months, when the dream would feel less real and she would be able to laugh about it with you.

But tonight, what she said instead simply was, “Breakfast?”

You nodded.

When you turned to face the sky again, Venus had disappeared. It had choked to death on its own blood. But the sun was peeking above the horizon, painting the world in colours, and it was shining brighter than Venus ever did.

Tag list: @sapphicsarahpaulson @mssallymckenna @supremeinlilac @pluied-ete @rainbow-hedgehog @pearplate @angelxsarahp @paulawand @asktammyr @peggycarter-steverogers   @coconutlipss ​ @saucy-sapphic @thesupremewife @paulsonpills

#*stretches* #i am glad to have got this out of my system #ahs #ahs imagines #sarah paulson #sarah paulson x reader #wilhemina venable #wilhemina venable x reader #fics

[littlemisspascal]

Death and an Angel

Helmetless + Death!Din and Female + Cupid!Reader.

Just a random idea that popped into my head. A little universe that’s a mixture of Mandalorian and my own made up AU. I don’t have anything planned or outlined following this, but if anyone wants it to continue I’m willing to add more.

Rating: G

Word Count: 1,100

Warnings: none I think except some light pining on the reader’s behalf, but this is my first writing post so let me know.

Part 2

Loosely based on this lovely photo:

You find Death at the train station’s entrance wearing a gray wool overcoat. He’s dressed as a civilian, but he exudes an air of power that has the few people out this late giving him a wide berth. Any onlooker would think he appears patient, expression neutral as he waits beneath the station’s lone working lamppost. You know him better than them though, catching the way he fiddles with his leather gloves, a bad and unmistakable omen. He’s restless tonight.

Adjusting your coat tighter around your body, you begin your approach, mentally bracing yourself for the upcoming conversation. This is the part of the job you hate the most, how unpredictable he can be, you think to yourself right as brown eyes lock onto you with the same intensity as an arrow to the chest. Swallowing against the sudden dryness in your throat, you steadily meet his gaze and pause at the edge of the circle of light, ready to disappear into the shadows if a hasty retreat is necessary. You know he’s aware of your nervousness by the way his mouth curls up in the faintest bit of a smirk, betraying his internal amusement. Irritation has you huffing out a sigh, cheeks warm against the winter chill. He’s insufferable. So smug and self-assured; a complete contrast to your...well, everything. Your bosses said you’d get used to his behavior, adapt to it the same as you would every other aspect of your job, but it’s been nearly a whole year of meeting him every full moon and you’re fully convinced they had been lying to you.  The fact of the matter is this: Death is an asshole. A charming, unfairly attractive asshole who pushes every one of your buttons and makes you feel like you’re two seconds away from catching fire whenever he looks at you.

And yet, despite all that, you can’t commit yourself to requesting a transfer. 

“There’s my favorite angel,” he greets, voice a unique mixture of smoke and honey. A siren call meant to seduce and lull unsuspecting victims into a false sense of peace. You stubbornly ignore the subsequent bloom of warmth unfurling deep inside your chest. It’s not a pet name, no matter how it sounds to any eavesdropper passing by or how much that tiny voice at the back of your mind wishes it were. He thinks he’s being cleverly funny, outing your designation as a Cupid without any mortal being the wiser. His sense of humor is twisted to say the least. “What do you want,” you reply flatly, not bothering with pleasantries as you adjust the beanie on top of your head, making sure it covers your ears. Your Cupid status protects you from illnesses, but it does little against the chilly air. “To see you, of course,” he says, unaffected by your gruffness. If anything, he looks even more amused. You pointedly look up to the night sky, noting the half sliver of moon hovering over your heads, before turning back to him with narrowed eyes. “If that’s all you wanted then you could have waited another week. I’m busy, Death, you can’t just—” “Din,” he cuts you off, so soft you nearly miss it. You blink. “What?” “You told me last time we met I needed a name, something you could call me when we’re in front of the humans. I thought I’d give it a try.” You remember that conversation. Of course you do, because he’d been quick to suggest you calling him ‘darling’ which nearly had you walking face first into a wall. You, wide-eyed and heart threatening to explode from your chest, had sputtered some excuse about workplace professionalism while he’d simply smiled back at you, that damn dimple of his on full display on his scruffy face. “So you picked...Din,” you finally say, your traitorous heartbeat spiking loud enough you worry he can hear it. It’s just a name. Three letters and not all that memorable considering how many thousands of names you deal with on a monthly basis. But the fact that he invented it for you, meant to be spoken by your lips alone, fills you with a rush of giddiness. You bite down harshly on your bottom lip to contain your smile, not wanting to make an utter fool of yourself. You clear your throat. “Ok, Din, tell me why I’m here. The truth this time, please.”

“It is the truth. I summoned you because I needed to speak with you. You’re the only one I trust with this matter,” Din says, and his blunt sincerity steals the breath from your lungs.  His gaze falls to his hands as he fiddles with his gloves, looking oddly hesitant all of the sudden. It’s unnerving, to say the least, seeing Death resemble a child awaiting judgement from his peers. You’ve seen him kill people and reap their souls without hesitation, but never have you seen him appear so...lost. It’s only when his right glove comes off, revealing callused bronze skin, that you make sense of his behavior. “That’s a soulmate marking,” you blurt out dumbly. The black lines forming a heart in the center of his palm are unmistakable. The universe has declared Din ready to meet his one true match. Someone who will shake his hand and will make his whole world tilt on its axis and rain down stars. Someone who will love him unconditionally with every speck of their being.

Your fingers itch to reach out and touch the mark, but you fight the urge. Din has an aversion to physical contact. He does all he can to avoid anyone brushing their skin against him, innocently or not, by covering his body in layers. In his armor, there’s no chance of it, body covered head to toe behind impenetrable beskar steel, but when he comes to meet with you he dresses in long-sleeves and pants, desiring to blend in. Sometimes there’s a scarf around his neck, maybe a hat covering his fluffy brown curls, but one accessory that you can always count on to see is his favorite pair of leather gloves. 

You guess that will have to change now that he has a soulmate to meet. 

“In all my existence, this has never happened before,” he confesses, fingers curling into his palm self-consciously when you continue to stare. 

Your eyes slowly drift up to lock with his, startled by the spark of determination you find burning within them.

“If anyone can find my soulmate,” Din says, voice unwavering and confident, “it’s you, angel.”

Din Djarin Taglist: @a-skov @pedrosbisch @stevie75 @quica-quica-quica @iamskyereads @banga-sama @dincrypt @ohlawdthebirds​

#Din Djarin #Mandalorian #din x you #my writing #Pedro Pascal #death and an angel #soulmate au #din x reader #mandalorian x reader #pedro pascal character fanfiction #my fic #no beta we die like men #din djarin x you #din djarin x reader

[fandom-imagines]

Thank you

Fandom: Death Note

Pairing: L X Reader

Warnings: Emotional and physical abuse.

Words: 3k

A/N: I’m in a death note phase again. I wrote this instead of doing my essay oops.

Being the girlfriend of a worldwide, secret detective was hard.

Relationships were hard enough as it is but having to make sure both the partners names were kept hidden made it even harder. Then there’s the constant travelling that takes place along with many other things.

Basically, the relationship between L Lawliet and Y/N Y/S/N was a complicated one. Don’t get me wrong, they were both madly in love with the other, but that didn’t make it any less hard.

“Y/N!” A high-pitched voice sounded from behind the aforementioned couple.

That’s Misa, Y/N’s best friend and often co-worker. The two met at a photoshoot where they became fast friends, the pair being able to work together due to their celebrity status.

“Hi, Misa.” A soft smile crawled onto the Y/H/C-haired girls’ lips.

She usually loved seeing Misa, but today all she wanted was to go back to her house and chill, maybe with Lawliet, maybe not. Who knows? Not her.

“Hi, Ryuzaki.” Misa greeted her best friends’ boyfriend, albeit unknowingly, before grasping her small hand around Y/N’s arm. “Bye, Ryuzaki!” Were her final words as she dragged Y/N away, unaware that she was desperately mouthing “sorry” towards her boyfriend.

~

“Light won’t even take me on a date, Y/N/N!” Misa whined, still talking about her ‘boyfriend’, “Isn’t that so unfair?”

“Very.” Y/N mumbled, turning the page on her magazine which lay in front of her.

She was currently lying across Misa’s bed, the pink sheets creasing beneath her. The girl’s legs were crossed in the air, the entire weight of her body being placed solely on her stomach. The magazine she was reading was something she had bought on the way back to Misa’s, hoping to share opinions on outfits or gossip about latest celebrities, something that the pair had done since they met.

“Are you even listening, Y/N/N?” The blonde continued to whine upon realizing that her friend was no longer listening to her boy drama.

“Sorry, just deep in thought.” Y/N’s words weren’t necessarily a lie, she was deep in thought just not about something she wished to share.

Misa didn’t know about Lawliet and Y/N’s relationship, nobody did. That was how they liked it. No one could intervene, no drama or anything of the sort.  Just the two of them, happy, together.

Oh how she longed to be with him right now. The two of them together, even if they were just sitting in HQ together whilst working on the Kira case that they had been working on for months now. That was how they had met: the Kira case.

Y/N knew of his involvement, her father worked as a detective, similar to Lights. That was how she joined the investigation despite being a student. Both her father and close friend, Light, recommended her.

However, that friendship was slowly fading as she found out more and more evidence that made her suspect Light of being Kira. She’s smart, very smart, that’s why she got along with both geniuses. She fit in well with the two. But the more she investigated the case, the more she realized that Light could possibly be behind the mass murders that were causing terror across the world, especially Japan.

“Ooh! What about? Is it a boy?” Misa was now sat up on the ground, arms wrapped tightly around the yellow pillow that she was previously sitting on. Her loose blonde locks fell down her back as well as over the pillow. She looked absolutely beautiful.

How did Light not love her back?

“Shut up.” The other girl huffed, tossing a pillow from Misa’s bed into the face of the owner, giggling as Misa fell backwards onto the soft carpet before bursting into a fit of giggles herself.

“You have to tell me!” The words left Misa’s lips between giggles as she recomposed herself.

“No!”

“Yes~”

The two argued back and forth for around five minutes before giving up, and bursting into a giggle fit once again, something that was common between the pair.

“So, you like someone?” Misa wiggled her eyebrows in amusement at the fact that her best friend was finally interested in someone other than fictional characters. “Tell me everything.”

Without revealing who it was, Y/N began to tell her about her ‘crush’, despite said crush actually being her boyfriend of a few months now. Ensuring that no significant details were released which could identify the man, she told her everything. Blushing was something new to her, but neither Misa nor Y/N complained. It was a refreshing change for them both.

“Wow,” The model let out a breath she wasn’t aware that she was holding once Y/N had poured her heart out, slightly at least. “I never knew you were capable of such feelings, Y/N/N!”

“Stop teasing me~” Y/N’s hands covered her blushing face, words becoming muffled behind the skin. “This is embarrassing enough as it is,” a groan left her lips as she continued her sentence. “Besides, I doubt he even likes me back.” The final words were mumbled, self-doubt settling in as she realized that her boyfriend might not actually love her.

Logically, Y/N knew that L wouldn’t use her, or at least she hopes, and that he genuinely did value her and her opinion. He enjoyed her company and didn’t find her annoying. He really did love her, despite not having admitted it.

“Sure he does! You’re great, Y/N/N.” Misa grinned at her best friend, unknowingly providing her with a source of comfort.

“Thanks, Misa.” A sigh left the other girls lips, a sinking feeling of doubt looming over her. “I should probably get home, it’s getting late. Goodnight, Misa.”

“Goodnight, Y/N!”

~

Instead of heading home Y/N decided to take a late-night stroll.

The dark sky was littered with bright stars, a nice change from the usual plain nights sky in Japan. It gave an almost comforting feel to the stroller, reminding her of her childhood when she would stay up late to stare up at the midnight sky with a genuine belief that it was the world watching over her, much like the moon which was ‘following’ her everywhere she went to make sure she was safe.

It was childish, yes, but she was a child so what do you expect?

The Y/H/C-haired girl observed her breath as she exhaled. It was cold which wasn’t a huge surprise considering that it was nearing December now; winter time. Despite being extremely cold, she decided that it wasn’t time to head home just yet. Her mind wasn’t entirely clear and it wasn’t exactly in her best interest to go home with an overthinking mind, so he continued her walk.

The sound of her shoes hitting the ground was one of the only things she could hear other than the occasional passing car or truck. The streetlights lit up her view, being the only thing that did so and Y/N internally thanked whoever put them up considering she wouldn’t be able to use the torch on her phone as it had died long ago. The odd passing-by car provided her with some light also, although it wasn’t much.

It wasn’t until around 1am when she finally decided she should head home.

~

The house was deadly silent as she entered, but the lights were still alight, leaving the daughter of the local baker and detective confused.

“Mum?” The girls voice was slightly quiet in case she was asleep whilst still being loud enough for anyone seated downstairs to hear.

“Where have you been?!” Her mothers voice was incredibly loud, making Y/N cringe and wince. “I’ve been worried sick! How could you make your mom worry like this?”

Ah, there comes the guilt tripping. Y/N’s thoughts were awfully loud, and she cursed herself internally.

“Sorry, mom.” A frown had made its way onto her lips as she apologized.

Sure, she probably should have warned her that she was going for a walk, but there was no need to guilt trip her.

“You should be. Now go to your room!”

She simply ran upstairs.

~

The bags under Y/Ns’ eyes almost matched Ryuzaki’s the following day.

She hadn’t gotten any sleep that night as she replayed every bad moment with her mother sine childhood and believe me, there was a lot of them.

Her mother hadn’t been the best parent to say the least. She was never physically abusive, but the mental scars from her words and actions had taken a toll on her daughter throughout the years.

“Are you okay?” Lights words were full of concern upon noticing the girls tired composure. The way she stood further proved that she was exhausted considering how she was slumped over. Hands shaking also, Light was genuinely concerned, despite his status as Kira, something he knew that she suspected. “You look terrible, no offence.”

“I’m fine.” Her words were quiet, almost silent, too wrapped up in her own thoughts to give a completely response but she figured those words would suffice and he would hopefully leave her alone.

Whilst concerned, Light knew not to push things when someone didn’t want to talk, so he didn’t push it further, favouring to ask if she was going to the HQ later which she was.

“Ryuzaki isn’t in today,” Lights words caught her attention, finally pulling her from her trance, “he’s working on the investigation.”

“Oh,” while her response was short, the criminal still cheered internally, glad that he had stopped her worrying, even if it was for a split second.

~

For the entire day she was completely ‘out of it’, unable to concentrate or even form a coherent sentence and she mentally kicked herself at her so-called failure. However she was slightly grateful that there was no exam today, knowing she would have most definitely failed. She probably wouldn’t have been able to write more than three words.

Y/N’s walk to HQ was lonely as she desperately craved some human contact.

She really needed a hug.

As though in a trance, the girl scanned herself into HQ and headed towards the main room where she knew everyone would be.

“Hi, Y/N,” Matsuda’s cheerful greeting caught Ryuzaki’s attention. Well, more like the name of the person he was greeting.

Nobody could have known however, unaware of the short-lived glance he had spared towards her. This short glance told him a lot: she hadn’t slept, she was deep in thought and she felt… crap.

This worried the detective immensely. He really did care for the girl; a lot more than he would admit. Not that he didn’t want to, he just didn’t know how she would react and didn’t want to risk facing rejection.

It would hurt.

“Hi.” The response she gave Matsuda was blunt, emotionless which L wasn’t happy to hear.

She never used that tone. She was usually cheerful. It must be bad.

“You guys can go for a break. You’ve been here most of today and it’s not nearing 5pm.” L’s words matched his girlfriends tone as usual, uncaring about the relief his words had just provided the others on the case. “Except you.” His gaze was now fixated on his love, making her internally curse at herself for being so obvious about her low mood.

The raven-haired detective waited for everyone to leave, stare unmoving as he observed Y/N’s every move and she walked towards the chair opposite him.

“What is it?” Y/N’s gaze was cast towards the ground, not wanting L to see her like this. “I’m sorry.” Her words were quick, worried that he was going to say something that would simply upset her more. “I-I didn’t mean too.”

L’s cold hand gently grasped her chin, lifting her face so that they could look at each other and he cringed slightly as he saw the tear threatening to fall from her eyes.

Okay, he is now really worried.

“What’s wrong?” His words were quiet but still laced with genuine concern, along with his eyes. “You can tell me.”

“It’s nothing, really.” The words stumbled from her lips, only worrying him more. “C-can I just go today? Please.”

L simply nodded, watching as she dashed from the HQ and out of his sight.

~

“Why do you keep disappearing?” Y/N’s mothers voice was the first thing she heard as she walked through the door.

“Please, leave me alone.” Y/N begged, simply wishing to be alone.

She made an attempt to dash upstairs, only to be stopped by her mothers tight grip around her wrist as she spun her around to face her. A hash slap hit the younger girls face with such a force that they both knew would leave a mark the following day.

“Y-Y/N…” Upon realisation of what she had just done, her tight grip around her daughters wrist loosened, hand dropping to her side.

“Never talk to me again.” YN’s words were quiet yet laced with venom before she finally dashed up to her room, one goal in mind:

Leave.

Her movements were quick as she packed her bag, tears leaking from her eyes in both pain and sadness,

Within minutes her bag was packed, tossed over her shoulder before she ran downstairs.

“Please don’t leave.” Her mother’s plead fell on deaf ears, the only response coming from the closing of the door as she watched her daughter leave, neither of them knowing if she would ever return.

~

It was cold. Very cold and Y/N cursed herself for not bringing a jacket, being in a skirt and t-shirt which was the same outfit she had worn to school today.

Shivering, she began her long walk towards HQ, something she knew would take a long time.

~

“What happened to you?” Detective Yagami’s voice was filled with panic upon seeing the tear stains on her cheeks as well as the bright red bruising hand-mark.

Lawliet payed no attention  to his remark, simply assuming that Matsuda had had a clumsy accident yet again.

“Please, can I just sit down?” Was what captured his attention, the soft and exhausted voice being one he recognised immediately.

“O-of course.” Soichiro’s words were rushed as he signalled towards the seat he had previously occupied which Y/N gratefully took.

L spun on his chair to look at the girl, breath hitching as he took in her appearance.

He caught her gaze and she had looked up after hearing the spinning of the chair and she thanked whatever gods there were that it was simply the three of them.

“Detective Yagami would you mind if we have a moment?” L’s stare was unmoving as Yagami nodded, leaving the room.

“R-Ryu…” Her voice sounded broken, eyes filled with pain and he soon noticed the bag on the ground, quickly coming to the conclusion that something had happened at home, presumably with her mother, and she had ran away.

L quickly climbed onto his feet, opening his arms which Y/N gladly ran into, breaking down into sobs. His hand placed itself on her hair, burying itself into her hair as her face buried into his chest. L was uncaring as her tears soaked through his white tee; he only cared that she was okay. They stood like that for a long time, L providing comfort she didn’t know she needed.

“Come on,” L broke the silence as his girlfriend calmed down, her breath evening out, “lets get you to a room.” He offered her a hand as she pulled away, one she took with extreme gratitude, appreciating that it must have been hard for him to give her any affection.

Their hands never parted as they climbed the stairs of the HQ, heading towards Y/N’s new room. Ryuzaki had thrown her bag over his shoulder, the heavy weight of the bag not affecting him one bit.

The room was empty, and it was clear nobody was staying there.

The noise of the bag dropping to the ground was loud, startling Y/N whilst Lawliet remained unaffected, having been the one that had caused the noise; not that it would have scared him anyway.

Y/N was led towards the made bed by the detective, sitting herself down as he wordlessly instructed before taking a seat beside her.

“I’m sorry for being such a bother.” She apologised, making L shake his head in disagreement.

“You could never be a bother, Y/N. Not to me.” His words were less monotone than usual, less devoid of feeling. There was a genuine tone coming from him. “Matsuda’s a bother, not you.” He spoke which made the shorter girl chuckle, something she felt she hadn’t done in ages, despite it having only been a day, #

“Thanks, Ryu. For everything.”

“It’s my pleasure.” His arm wrapped around her shoulder, pulling her closely towards him until her warmth was felt by him. “I-“ He paused as he began to speak, extremely aware of what he was about to say.

“What’s wrong?” Y/N asked, confused at his sudden silence.

“I love you.” His words were quiet, almost unheard had it not been for the fact that the room was deadly silent.

The pair fell into an awkward silence for a moment before L got up to leave, apologising as he did so.

“Wait,” Y/N’s hand wrapped around his own, “I love you too.”

A small smile made its way onto both of their lips, L walking back over to the girl until he was stood directly in front of her. She watched closely as he bent down, unsure of what he was about to do. The second his lips touched her forehead a huge blush flowed across her cheeks.

“R-Ryu…?” Her embarrassed voice sounded, the only response she earned from him being a small smile before he gave her a pat on the head, turning to leave.

“Thank you.” She called, making him stop in the doorway.

“Anytime, Y/N/N.” The use of the nickname only made her blush harder.

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[suphoshi]

THE SUN, THE MOON, THE STARS | Byun Baekhyun x reader

PART I | PART II

Genre: Best friends to lovers AU, angst, some fluff, v v small amount of smut (i mean nearly non-existent, but def there)

Warnings: Horrible coping mechanisms (lots of drinking ((small mention of underage drinking)), making out/sex with strangers), possible trigger for depression, assault

Baekhyun holds the sun, the moon, and the stars in his eyes. How could he ever expect you not to love him?

-

PART I

Word Count: 8,439

Did you know the closest star to Earth is the sun?

94.376 million miles apart. That’s equivalent to traveling the circumference of the earth 3,790 times, travelling from one side of Asia to the other 78,646 times, running the Boston marathon 3,629,846 times.

The closest star to the Earth is the sun, a sad lonely world with its closest friend lightyears away, but not for you. You need only open your eyes at 12:04am on a Saturday night at age fourteen and it’s right there, hovering above you, a blazing fire of magnificence that breathes every bit of light there is into your soul. The dimples in his cheeks filled with the fiery chasms that brighten the earth, eyes sparkling with billions of galaxies.

“Let’s run away.” He would whisper after kicking his shoes off, flopping onto the other side of the bed. His voice smooth like the honey you used to mix into tea when you were sick (he healed you just the same), filling your arms with goosebumps, longing to hear more. He’d turn to face you and every time, even in the darkness of your room, you could see it.

Starlight found you in Baekhyun’s eyes.

“Corona Borealis…” you whispered nonchalantly, and his eyebrows scrunched up in that cute way they always did when he was confused. “The Northern Crown.”

A smile fixed itself onto your cheeks, but he was already launching into a story about his mom yelling at him for his grades, accustomed to the random thoughts that you spurted out with no regards to its relevance. You hardly listened. Seven beautiful stars that showed the crown in his eyes. If only you could stare at them through a telescope, dissect their structure, find your way into their stories, and make a home for yourself. Would he ever have room for you?

He stared at the ceiling while he spoke, constellations flowing from his lips in a way that lit up the whole room, your eyes transfixed on him and only him, each glimmer of light more beautiful than the next. He never noticed that you weren’t listening, never attempted to shake you back to reality. That was the magic of his existence, how rare he was. Someone who was just pleased with your company, never expecting more than your presence.

You met him when you were eight, back when stars only existed in the sky. Your days before him were filled with silence, eyes fixed on the ground, no one paying attention to the rich girl who seemed to think she was better than everyone. It wasn’t true, but who were you to change their minds? You never cared what people thought, never wanted to befriend anyone, or show them you were different. Well- not until you found yourself face first in a sandbox, a group of girls shoving you down, pulling your hair - “you think you’re better than us, huh?”. It was only then that you wished for a friend. Wished you had someone who cared enough to help. Someone who loved you enough to worry.

Tears rolled down your sand coated cheeks, bile in your throat, fear in your belly. You wanted to disappear.

“Get off her!”

Baekhyun’s voice was still shrill then, shoving the girls off one at a time until they all ran away, a beacon of hope you never saw coming. He dusted off your shoulders, patted your back while you sputtered and coughed, let you cry until your fathers’ voice rang in your mind like a shrill alarm. ‘An heiress never cries’. The words echoed through you over and over until you found the strength to pull your knees up to your chest and lower your head, forever trying to make yourself smaller, hiding from the world.

“Hey, it’s okay.” He spoke softly, stroking your hair. Chills ran down your spine. No one had ever touched you like that, with such sincerity. Not even your parents. You found the courage to look up at him and found yourself breathless once again but for a different reason.

His eyes.

He wiped your cheeks with gentle fingers, dusted more sand off your forehead, but you couldn’t look away from his eyes. “It’s okay, they’re gone now.” His gentle voice soothing the wrinkles in your forehead.

“Aquarius.” You mumbled and he tilted his head to the side.

“My mom told me I’m a Capricorn I think.” He replied, but you shook your head.

“The water bearer. It’s a constellation.” His eyebrows scrunched together, and a smile found your cheeks. When he returned it, your felt butterflies in your stomach.

You had never seen stars in anyone else, not before him and not after. You spent your entire childhood by his side, clinging to him despite all of life’s obstacles, like the time he broke his wrist while riding his bike down a hill; or, when he got into a fight in middle school and you got yourself suspended for punching the other guy in the face (you didn’t even know why they were fighting). He was your favorite lifeline, the only friend you ever wanted… The only love you ever needed.

You always wondered if he would ever see you like that. If he would see you at all. The way he smiled at you was not the way you smiled at him. Did he get chills when his hand brushed against yours while walking down the hall? Did he fall asleep with a smile on his face at just the memory of you laughing, matching the dopey one you fell asleep with when you thought of him? As the years went on, he constantly drilled the notion into your head that you were just friends. You would only ever be friends.

“You need to go out with someone other than me, people think we’re dating. You don’t have any other friends.”

It was your seventeenth birthday. He woke you up with a strawberry cupcake and his sunshine smile. You could not have asked for anything more. Minus the talk of going to your first party without him, of course. It made your stomach churn with anxiety. It was your birthday, why should you spend it with anyone other than him?

He was all you would ever want, never asking for more than a lifetime of studying his eyes and hearing him laugh, but he obviously had different ideas.

“I’m not always going to be here, you know.”

His words caused a panic to rise in your chest, head snapping to face him so quickly that it took you several minutes to adjust to his frame. He only met your gaze for a few moments before letting his eyes trail down to his twiddling fingers.

“Why wouldn’t you always be here?” You asked incredulously and he laughed.

“That’s how life works. We’ll be friends through high school, maybe some college, but then we’ll meet people we really like. You’ll get married; I’ll get married. We’ll have kids. Then we’ll just be an old memory. Pictures in scrap books. You know?”

You shook your head ‘no’ immediately, afraid to speak for fear that you would scream at him. How could he be so stupid? So blind? Of course, you knew he would find someone since you weren’t the one he wanted, but how could he think that you would ever love anyone but him? How could he ever imagine a life where you weren’t there when you couldn’t even think about it without tears filling your eyes?

He smiled as you shook your head and reached his hand out, smoothing down the side of your hair. You leaned into his touch and watched him sigh, eyes glimmering, heart racing. He let you sit like that for probably too long, the love in your chest swelling with each second. He let you look into his galaxies, chest beating so erratically that you feared he would hear it.

Sagitta. It was right there. Five stars that made up an arrow, aimed right at you. Only you. It made your lip tremble. Tear filled eyes, pin cushion heart.

When he pulled his hand back, it was replaced with cold regret, but at least you were used to it. He cleared his throat and laid back on the bed beside you, staring up at the ceiling. As if he didn’t just rip your heart in half. You wished you could be so nonchalant with someone’s feelings.

“It’s normal to go to a party on your birthday. I think you should go. Chanyeol will be there, so you’ll have someone to talk to.”

Your lip jutted out in annoyance, dread filling your senses as your gaze dropped to the floor. You’d spent every birthday for nine years with Baekhyun, but now he wanted you to do it alone. It was frustrating, having an ever-constant that suddenly didn’t want to be that constant. He sat back up and hooked a finger under your chin, tilting your head back up to face him. His sweet smile. Sun kissed skin. Messy hair.

“Please?”

He ruined you.

Hours later, you found yourself in a too crowded house with too loud music, on edge the second you walked in the door. Your chest ached with anxiousness, nerves on fire. You wanted to break down, shrink into the size of an ant and sneak out, but you couldn’t leave, not when you had just arrived. You could only imagine Baekhyun’s disappointment if you bailed so early, so you had to try.

Chanyeol was dancing with some girl across the room, no attention paid to the birthday girl who sat unattended. Lonely. You scratched the back of your neck, annoyance dripping off you in waves. You wished Baekhyun was there.

Someone shoved a red cup into your hand and told you to drink. It looked like tea, smelled like metal. You looked up at the girl in front of you and she smiled.

“It’ll make it a little better” That look, as if she knew your thoughts better than you did. It took you twenty minutes to drink the entire thing, rusty and lukewarm, bile lurching up your throat with nearly each sip. Took you twenty more to build up the courage to ask for another.

After three cups you could smile even though you were scared. After five, you were on a table, dancing to music you didn’t know the words to, forgetting the reality of your life. It felt like no one could touch you, no one could hurt you. Your father’s sternness didn’t exist up in the clouds of that night. The cold your mother put off couldn’t touch you when you danced on the mountain tops. Baekhyun held you too tight, too long, loved you too hard there. Sometimes you still chase that feeling.

The party died down a few hours later, people pouring out the front door and finding rides home or walking. You texted Baekhyun to come pick you up and laid back in the front yard alone, though it didn’t really feel that way. The grass around you was wet, fingers winding around the blades as you stared at the sky. Shooting stars, silky clouds pressed against the backdrop of a black night. You loved it. The way it looked so close, like you could hold it. Taste it. Heaven felt like it could be real, fingertips away, and you stretched your hand out to touch it. Stars dripped down your arms, the moon painted your skin. You wanted to climb up and be with them so much, find yourself a home amongst them.

It wasn’t much later that Baekhyun laid down beside you, your head instinctively turning towards him, a magnet you could never resist.

“What kind of stars do you see tonight?”

You had no answer because the stars in the sky didn’t matter anymore. As quickly as your love built for them, it completely extinguished when he was there. Instead, it was the stars in his eyes that you wanted to discover. He turned to you after your silence stretched too long and you smiled.

“Coma Berenices. Berenice’s Hair.”

He smiled back and the butterflies that fluttered in your stomach when you were little returned in full force, for the thousandth time since you had met him. It had been years since that first day. Years since you fell in love with him. But Baekhyun was Baekhyun, a clueless boy who hauled your drunk body off the ground and into his car, ignoring the way you kissed his cheek when he lifted you into his arms. Ignoring how you made him hold your hand the entire way home and fiddled with his fingers because he had the nicest hands. Ignored the tears in your eyes when he refused to stay after he helped you into bed.

“Happy birthday.” he whispered against your cheek while you held onto his shirt, begged him to stay one more time. He smiled and pulled your hands away before climbing out of your window.

It was a never-ending cycle that you decided you were okay with because at least he was there. At least you got to see his constellations. Even though you felt cold at night without his hand in yours, without his smile. You could handle anything, as long as he never left.

-

Age twenty-four came to you like the encore of your favorite play, sprawled out in the grass while you looked up at the stars and wished to live among them. You couldn’t really recall those childish days anymore, the times when Baekhyun treated you gently, held your feelings with sweetness, sincerity. You just remembered the way it made you feel.

Life had changed for him. His heart changed. He grew cold, severe. Sternness sprouted in his voice when you wanted to spend time with him, shutting down your feelings without an ounce of compassion. All too harsh and direct, making his point entirely too clear. You didn’t know what inside of him snapped, but he stopped knocking on your bedroom window. He stopped sneaking in with strawberry cupcakes on your birthday. He stopped answering your calls at 2am when you were scared and couldn’t sleep. It was like the world started rotating in reverse. One day he was hugging you tight while you cried over a failed exam, and the next he was avoiding your texts. Declining your calls.

You still clung to him, refused to leave his side regardless of his feelings because you had to see him. You had to hear his laugh. How could you live without the only sun you ever loved? You met him after class, followed him down the hall and made him speak to you. Showed up at his house. Helped him study. That was as close as he let you stay anymore. Rarely did he call you first, even more rare did he come out when you asked him to, but still. It was enough. It had to be. For years you played that game. Tiptoed on his boundaries in silence, praying he would let you stay with him forever.

You sighed at the racing thoughts and closed your eyes, tried to remember the last time he let you see the galaxies inside of him. Time had been so rough with Baekhyun and it was frustrating to know that he held milky way’s so close for you to discover, but never let you glance at them anymore.

Footsteps neared your head and you looked up, eyes meeting the annoyed face you had been thinking about. He wasn’t smiling. Wasn’t happy at all. So why did he look so pretty? Why was your heart beating so fast, like it meant anything that he was there? It’s not like he came to your rescue every time you called because he liked you. He was just a good friend.

“How am I ever gonna have a chance with Yuna if you keep calling me away from every date I have with her?”

Hearing her name had your eyes rolling without thought, the whiskey that settled in your stomach churning uncomfortably. Yuna was Baekhyun’s latest muse. She helped him produce a song once and he was head over heels. Took her on dates, called her late at night. It made you sick. Like you weren’t ever there for him. Like you weren’t even an option. You could help him work on songs, help him write lyrics. You’d done it before when you were kids, before he acted like you were nothing.

He crouched down above your head and you quickly took note that Baekhyun looked so small in a beanie. As if you hadn’t noticed that before, marked in your mile-long list of things that you loved about him. His ears poked out, like the point of a hat like that wasn’t to tuck your ears in and keep them warm. His glasses perched on his nose. You smiled a little, content to see him, even if he was angry. Even if he didn’t want to be there (didn’t want you).

He rolled his eyes and let out a deep sigh, moving to stand in front of you. He held his hands out and you grabbed them, letting him haul you off the ground. The world spun and his hands were on your hips for just a few seconds to steady you before he pulled them away.

Shivers ran down your spine, eyes darting to meet his. Your bones ached at the sweetness he still held in them, whether it was for you or not. Eyebrows raised in concern, your hands resting on his chest.

“Stop drinking all of the time if you can’t even get a taxi to take you home.” He grumbled, pulling your dress down and dusting grass off your back. His voice rang through your ears dripping with the honey that healed you, and every part of you felt so warm with him just inches away. Like you were coming home for the first time in years.

“Baek,” you vied for his attention, fingers gripping his shirt lightly. He looked at you with those anger filled eyes and you smiled. “like me instead.”

He looked a little confused, head tipping just a little to the left and you immediately felt the fall. The fall you had been falling since you were eight years old and found your first friend. The fall you fell when you woke up on your seventeenth birthday, not to your parents, but to the sweetest eyes of the sweetest boy on earth. The fall you would be falling forever because he was your star. Your galaxy.

Your chest felt heavy. Heart racing. Short breaths coming out like choppy waves while you stared into his eyes and swallowed down your fear.

Aquila. Ten stars that made up an eagle, the eagle that bore Zeus’ lightning bolts. It was the push of courage and strength you needed.

“Love me instead.” You continued and the glimmer in his eyes – the shooting stars you watched form behind them, it was enough to have you leaning forward and pressing your lips against his.

Whiskey. Whiskey was your favorite. You’d never felt it before, but whiskey ran through your veins like lava and pushed you up up up on your tippy toes, your chest melting into his like a puzzle piece. His eyes widened in surprise while your hands wrapped around the base of his neck. You felt your heartbeat in your ears, felt the butterflies in your throat crawling out with happiness, begging to be set free. For the first time in years, it felt possible. Like you could explode with all the excitement you had been building up over time.

His soft lips spread slightly, and the taste of cinnamon escaped. You breathed it in, let some of those butterflies sneak into the world before you pressed your lips into his again. Everything was perfect for those few seconds, your body against his, your dreams finally coming true as you could see the constellations inside of him and actually understand why they were there. It was what you always wanted.

When his hands slid up to your shoulders, you leaned into him a little more, naively thinking he was pulling you closer. As if he felt the same way you did.

He pushed you away instead.

You stumbled back; eyes wide open to see him. The smile faded from your cheeks, the hollow emptiness settling in your soul where your happiness had previously resided. His lips were a little red from your lipstick and his eyes were even more confused. Angry. His cheeks looked pale, fixing his glasses back and staring at you incredulously.

“What are you doing?” He barked out and you stared at him, not sure what to say. You were embarrassed, sure, but when he wiped his mouth off with the back of his hand, you were shattered.

The butterflies in your throat screamed in pain, dried and cracking wings, sliding back down to your stomach where they belonged.

Baekhyun sighed and rubbed his face with his hands before taking a deep breath.

You felt tears fill your eyes when his hardened gaze found you again, shame eating you alive as he stepped forward and grabbed your wrist. His touch wasn’t gentle. Wasn’t loving. It wasn’t what you wanted at all.

“You’re drunk, let’s go home.” He said turning, but you ripped away from him, devastation reaching its peak. He looked at you and you wanted to collapse. Wanted to turn into a black hole that sucked everything too close right up and destroyed it with you. Sobering tears ran down your cheeks and with each second that passed, your anger grew.

“Why don’t you love me?” You started, ignoring the growing nervousness in his face. “Yuna is pretty and nice, but why not me? I’ve taken care of you since we were kids- I’ve loved you since we were kids. Doesn’t that matter?”

He looked scared. A crack in the façade of his usual indifference, a heart-breaking apologetic look that he only allowed you a second to see before his usual mask of annoyance returned. You could have screamed. Why wasn’t he being honest with you? Why was he hiding his feelings, covering them up and putting on a show, as if you didn’t know him better than anyone?

“You sound silly right now ____, you drank too much.” He said sighing, a hand coming up to rub his cheek, as if this was the most unsettling thing to ever happen to him.

You stared at him and thought about how it would have felt if he had just kissed you back. If he had lifted you off the ground, let you into his little world, showed you his map of stars and explained every single one of their stories. It was a dream.

Resentment settled inside your bones. Frustration. Betrayal. You nodded your head and grabbed your jacket off the ground, turning to walk away.

“Wait-” He gripped your elbow and you seethed at his touch, snatching away from him unabashedly.

“It’s not silly,” you cried out, tears filling you up and pouring down the sides of your face. He stayed quiet; eyes unsure how to process your emotions any more than you could. “But don’t worry.” You wiped at your cheeks harshly, ridding yourself of the useless tears that you cried over a boy who would never reciprocate your feelings. “I won’t come between you and Yuna anymore. I won’t bother you at all. I’m sorry I bothered you so much.”

You walked away from him and he didn’t come after you. He didn’t call your name. Didn’t hold your hand the rest of the day like he did when you were eight and felt scared and alone after a bunch of girls ganged up on you. You felt so alone walking home. And you couldn’t see the stars anymore.

You didn’t really care to look up and see them ever again.

-

Baekhyun didn’t call at all in the following days. You’d heard from Chanyeol that he and Yuna had made it official and you cried, hot tears that stung so ugly down your cheeks. It made you feel so stupid. How could you have clung to someone who cared so little about you for so long? The thought alone was devastating, but you knew it was only a partial truth. Baekhyun was your friend. He cared about you, and you knew that, but you could only handle friendship for so long. He could not have been that blind.

You laid in bed and thought over and over where you went wrong. Sure, you kissed him. You did, but was it really such a bad thing? He had to know how you felt. You never dated other guys. Called him when you were alone or sad. Made him dinner. Watched movies with him. You only ever wanted him. Was it that big of a shock?

His mother was the one who called you later that week to let you know about his enlistment. It shook you to the core, dissolved the foundation you had built to keep yourself grounded. Keep you safe. You waited for a call and text. A fucking email.

His mother called one more time, on the day he was scheduled to leave.

‘Please come say goodbye. You know he’ll miss you.’

You laid in silence for hours, staring at the ceiling, senseless tears rolling down the sides of your face. Should you stay? Should you go? The questioning mind you hated so much would not shut off no matter how much you begged for darkness to take over, and it all led you back to one thought: What if you never got to see him again?

You sprinted from the bus stop like your life depended on it, checking the time on your phone continually, as if a bomb would go off if you were late. There were people everywhere, wishing their loved one’s farewell, ignoring the frenzy you were in as you shoved through the crowd desperately. His mother had sent you a text with a vague location, but your mind was in shambles, no coherent thoughts, just absolute panic. You had to see him. You had to say goodbye.

When you spotted him, your blood froze over. You forgot how to breathe. Everything around you went silent. Your heart no longer raced. He smiled and looked at the people around him, spoke words you couldn’t hear, but knew they were making everyone laugh. He was always making everyone laugh. You stood away and watched, unsure of how to face him. How to look into his eyes when he was mad at you, just like you were mad at him. You had never been mad at him like that.

You watched him kiss Yuna on the cheek and almost walked away but felt cemented to the ground. He hugged his mom for a long time, let her pat his back and hold him for far longer than he was used to. When he pulled back, he was nodding at her, wiping her cheeks, an ever-diligent son who loved his mom more than anything. The light in his eyes when he looked at her; it was on that same long list of things you loved him for. Butterfly wings mending, you felt them flutter again in your stomach for the first time in a week.

They all waved at him as he walked away, time catching up too quickly. He walked towards you through the crowd, leaving everyone else and it felt like a movie. The crowd closed behind him as he walked closer, life moving in double time as you contemplated how to speak, how to think. How to tell him he had to come back because your heart was his.

It was at the exact moment that your instinct to run kicked in that he stopped in front of you. Six feet away, backpack slung over his shoulder, hat fixed on his head. You couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t stand the sight of his eyes, so inquisitive, so accusing. Like you didn’t belong there. You didn’t smile. Didn’t move. When he stepped forward, you let out a shuddering sigh. He shifted uncomfortably, hands in his pockets while you twisted your fingers so tight that your skin turned red. Flashbacks flew past your eyes, your hands on his neck, the taste of cinnamon.

You shook away the thoughts and took a deep breath.

“I just came to say goodbye.” You said dimly and he nodded, turning his gaze away, as if he couldn’t stand the sight of you. It broke your heart. Made you want to melt into the ground and disappear entirely. Instead, you built up every ounce of courage you had left and swallowed down the tears that begged to escape.

You blinked once. Twice. The sight of his face growing more and more blurry with the sadness you tried and failed to dry out. You cleared your throat and raised your hand into the air, gaze dropping to his shirt as you no longer had the courage to see his resentment anymore.

“Bye… Baekhyun.” You whispered, and his head turned towards you.

You looked up to meet his eyes once more and watched him soften. Watched him crumple from head to toe in the same way you did, like a curtain falling to reveal the show behind it. It took everything you had not to break. Not to collapse on the ground and beg him to run away with you, beg him to stay. His eyes searched your face for far too long before he swallowed hard, nodding a few times.

When he walked away, brushing past you without a word, your arms moved involuntarily, wrapping around his waist without fear or contempt. Your fingers gripped into his shirt too tight, clinging to him as if he would disappear if you let go. As if it were the last time you would ever see him.

He froze. Breathing uneven. Unsure. You sobbed into his shirt and he let you. He let you hold him and cry, and you were so grateful. So happy you could hold him one more time.

“Please be safe.” You whispered, voice thick with sadness.

He didn’t move. Didn’t shove you back. Didn’t force you to let go or reject your heart. Just let you hold him like that, let you sob freely despite everything that had happened.

He was your home. Your safety. Your anchor to reality. You had always felt that way, but he didn’t reciprocate those feelings anymore. Never letting you get too close, too comfortable.

After some time passed, he turned and wrapped an arm around your shoulders. You only cried harder. The smell of his cologne, the skin of his neck, the feel of his fingers pressed into your back. You took the time to memorize it all, the sinking realization that it would be the longest amount of time you would have ever spent without him hitting you like a truck.

You felt his lips press against the top of your head and gripped his shirt even tighter, too scared to accept the finality of his goodbye. But just like that, his hands were wrapping around your arms, peeling you off like Velcro. He didn’t speak. Didn’t linger. Just walked away without so much as a glance back.

You felt the tug on your heart so severely that it took your breath away, tethered to a boy who left you alone and in pieces on the sidewalk. A boy who would never want you the way you wanted him.

You squatted down on the cool pavement; palm pressed to your chest until your heart settled enough for you to take a deep breath. Then came the crash. You disintegrated in that crowd of people, muscles alone pulling you up off the ground and walking you back towards the bus stop. Empty eyes cried the entire way home, and it was instinct alone that got you there. Common sense. If it were up to your heart, you’d probably still be sitting on that sidewalk waiting for him to come back and hug you again.

-

Baekhyun leaving hurt bad enough. What hurt worse were the weeks that passed by without a phone call. Without a letter. Your friends talked about the letters and texts they received like it was nothing, they got one every week, some of them twice a week. It never bothered you before, having the same friends as him, but it did then. It made you realize how alone you actually were without him.

Months passed by in an instant and you woke up every day thinking that it would get easier. That you would be able to get out of bed without feeling so hollow. So empty. That the ache in your chest would have to fade eventually, but it didn’t. Instead, each day that passed widened the hole in your heart.

You were sat in a restaurant, finger sliding through the condensation on your glass of beer while your friends talked about some story Baekhyun had wrote them about that week, and it set your chest on fire. Had your heart racing with betrayal. Your annoyance reached it’s threshold and you didn’t even feel the anger-filled tears coming to try to stop them.

“Why isn’t he writing me?” You asked thoughtlessly, tears trailing down your face. You half expected them not to hear you, and if they did, you expected them to ignore you. It didn’t work out either way you had imagined. They all stopped to look at you, eyes soft and concerned, full of pity, like you were some kind of fragile doll. It made you feel sick. Sehun opened his mouth to speak and you just as quickly cut him off.

“Forget it.” You said with rough hands wiping the tears from your cheeks. You couldn’t bear hearing the cover ups. The explanations. The apologies. You couldn’t even bear their sympathetic glances. You downed the rest of your beer, threw money on the table, and walked out without another word. It was the most you could manage.

Nothing felt good anymore. Nothing made you smile at things the way he did. Nothing made you laugh like he did. Nothing filled you up at all, made you feel complete. It was more than frustrating – it was crippling. How could he consume so much of your life and expect you not to fall in love with him? How could you not love him? He was Baekhyun. His eyes held the entire galaxy. How couldn’t you fall in love?

Time was not kind, not for you. You found yourself in bars kissing other men, pretending it was him that you were pressed against. His hands on your waist, his lips on yours. You acted like you could get butterflies in your stomach for anyone other than him. On good nights, you could almost hear his soft laughter in your ear, cinnamon breath, and gentle hands. On bad nights, you tangled your hands in their hair, dug your nails into their shoulder, let them wrap their hand around your throat, bite your lip, rip your stockings.

Both ways never felt right.

He came home to visit after four months, and you tried to be surprised that he didn’t call. Feigned shock when he didn’t come to find you, locked away in your apartment with both fear and wishful thinking. In all honesty though, you expected it. You felt his goodbye the last time you saw him and knew then that he wouldn’t come to find you. He wouldn’t ever seek you out again. That fact was devastating at first.

Six months passed though, and it wasn’t as complicated. Wasn’t as damaging.

Eight months passed and you could wake up in the morning without a weight on your chest. Could go to work and come home without seeing him in every street, every building, every face that you took home at night.

Life became easier. Your friends stopped mentioning him every time you got together, stopped bringing up their phone calls and letters. You could go out for drinks and laugh and didn’t feel the need to find company in a strangers’ arms just so you could feel something. Anything.

You could laugh at their stories, eat until your belly was full, talk about work and life and music.

Life became easier.

Until it wasn’t. Until you found yourself in the middle of your favorite restaurant and Yuna walked in.

She sat herself down at the head of the table and talked with everyone like she fit there. As if she was more welcome than you were. They poured her drinks, ordered her food, made sure she felt included while simultaneously pushing you over the edge.

“Baekhyun comes home in a few months you know.” She spoke to everyone, and they all shared their understanding, listening to her with purpose. “Don’t tell him I said anything, but…” You felt Sehun’s eyes combing your face and you downed another shot, eyes fixed on the table.

“I think he’s going to propose.”

You slammed your glass back down and everyone looked towards you for a moment. You didn’t return the glances. Didn’t care to excuse your outburst at all really. It was amazing, how easy that pain settled back in after nearly a year of avoidance. How it crept into the vessels of your heart and calcified your blood into shards of glass that ripped you from the inside out.

They all turned back to her, wishing her well and sharing their excitement for them. You only felt slightly betrayed, emptier than you previously thought possible as the remaining bit of hope you had unknowingly latched onto bled out while you downed one more shot.

You got up without a word, put your money on the table, and ignored their stares as you walked out. Walking home you felt the cold air seeping into your bones and wanted to feel nothing. You wanted your heart to stop beating for someone who would never love you, wanted it to stop beating entirely if you had no other choice. You stopped in another bar and it was only so long before your head felt fuzzy. Before you had your hands on someone’s shoulders, your back pressed up against a wall while their lips moved from your cheek to your neck, to your collar bone.

“Come home with me.” He said, voice rough and deep.

Normally you said no, pushing them away and going home alone, dreaming of the person your heart really wanted.

But he had eyes like Baekhyun’s. He smelled like cinnamon and you weren’t ready to leave him yet.

It was all too fast and too rough, him pressing you into his paper-thin mattress, pulling your hair, biting your lip. It wasn’t the gentle caresses or the soft kisses that Yuna probably got, and that thought alone had you asking for more. And he gave it to you. Hand gripping your cheeks, harsh words whispered into your ear. It was so different from what your heart wanted. So different from what you always dreamed about.

He finished after too long and you immediately got dressed, walking out the door without a word. He didn’t even try to stop you.

-

The following months passed by in a blur. You avoided everyone, spending more time at work and less time thinking, rejecting every phone call, every text. It was better that way. You weren’t someone who people could understand easily. Even the person who was closest to you on earth left you alone, so why would you keep anyone else around? You didn’t need any more loss. Didn’t need any more devastation.

When the empty feeling settled in your chest, you decided you preferred that over pain and loneliness. It was easier to feel nothing at all. On the weekends you drank until you forgot. Drank until Baekhyun’s face wasn’t the only thing you saw when you made out with someone. Until you didn’t smell cinnamon on their lips. Pretended that the stars at night didn’t remind you that once upon a time, you saw constellations in his eyes.

You drank until you half dragged yourself home, stumbling every 10 feet, laughing out loud like you had something to laugh at, when really the only thing listening was the wind brushing past you. It comforted you to know that even if were alone, the wind still caressed your cheeks, told you that it would be okay, even if it really wouldn’t.

You were almost to your apartment when you walked into some restaurant to eat before you slept, tired of the constant hangovers at work as much as your coworkers probably were. The bell above your head rang and you smiled at the sound, eyes half shut as you looked around for a table to sit at.

“____?”

You straightened up at the sound of your name, vision adjusting to the room. Chanyeol. Sehun. The rest of your friends that you had been avoiding for months. They all stared at you like you were some ticking time bomb and you instantly frowned.

Of course, you would pick this restaurant. All you had done for months was dodge their calls, their texts, and there they all were, staring at you with sad eyes that made you want to crack. You could’ve stopped at the one on the corner, or the one that was right beside the bar you were at, but no. You chose that restaurant, of all places.

Everyone’s eyes were fixed on you and you ran a hand through your tousled hair, smoothing out your clothes and smiling a little. No one spoke. No one smiled back. You noticed Yuna at the end of the table and chuckled a little at the thought that maybe they replaced you with her.

The empty seat to her right didn’t register until Baekhyun walked out of the bathroom. He was wearing the hat you got him for his birthday two years before.

He was smiling for a second until he saw you, and it quickly disappeared.

‘How did we get here?’

“____?”

He said your name and you ran. Gone was that empty feeling you were so happy to have. The hurt that surged through your chest was enough to take your breath away. You rubbed at your eyes with dry hands and tried to keep it together. Tried to hold back the sobs that fought their way out of your throat. Tried to claw your way back to that empty feeling you worked so hard for.

“____, wait!”

You ran, begging God to swallow you into the earth, hide you away from the misery that was awaiting. Instead, you tripped on the sidewalk and fell, feeling as pathetic as you probably looked.

He was at your side in seconds.

“Are you okay?” He asked and you slapped his hand away when he offered it for help.

You attempted to pull yourself back up but stumbled again. That time, his hands wrapped around your waist, keeping you upright and pressed against him. The warmth of his sweater, the smell of his cologne. It was all too much.

You shoved him away and stumbled back down the sidewalk towards your apartment. When he started to walk beside you, you stopped and looked at him.

“Leave me alone.” You said and he stared at you for too long. The hurt expression he wore was surely a figment of your imagination, and you laughed at the thought that he might have been hurt by you. As you walked away, you shoved him to the side again, praying he would get the hint and leave you alone.

You could feel him trailing behind you in silence. Could feel his gaze fixed on the back of your head and goosebumps broke out up and down your arms. You hated everything about it. Hated that he could make you feel that way after so long, when you had convinced yourself that you hated him; convinced yourself that you didn’t belong to anyone but you.

You walked up the two flights of stairs in your building and bit your lip, begging him in silence to leave. To go and never come see you again. It was what you wanted, what you needed, but those butterflies you thought you had buried so long before were wiggling out of their graves and swimming up your throat for air. You were miserable.

“____,” His voice saying your name, the voice you had missed so much, it had your head whipping towards him with such severity, you would have thought he would be scared. Instead he looked calm. Worried. You missed his eyes so much. His voice. “Let me inside, you’re bleeding.”

He pointed to your knee and you didn’t bother looking, the sting of an open wound apparent. Instead you stared at him. He was thinner since you last saw him, hair growing longer since he had cut it, tucked under his hat. Sunshine skin, starry eyes. Tall and handsome. Baekhyun.

“Open the door.” He said and you did. Why did you? Why did you not feel angry anymore? Resentment replaced with longing as you pressed the buttons on the keypad. You felt the loneliness seeping through your pores as you kicked off your shoes and tried to hold onto the tiny shreds of strength you had left, but it was hard. Your heart ached for him, and he was right there. And you just wanted him to touch you.

He walked straight to your kitchen and pulled out your first aid kit, somehow unsurprised that he remembered where it was. He fit so perfectly there, like the only place he should have ever been was in your kitchen cleaning you up and making you better. With his back turned to you, he called your name again, going through all the supplies inside of the box. You walked up beside him and watched him pull out gauze, alcohol, a bandage.

It was too quick, him turning and wrapping his arms around your waist, catching you off guard as he picked you up and placed you on the counter in front of him. You gasped at his touch, chest against chest, but it was gone just as quick.

He immediately started his work on cleaning the wound on your knee and the look of concentration on his face made your heart constrict. Tears filled your eyes and you wanted so badly to make him leave. Overwhelming thoughts about how this would end with you crying and him leaving filled you up and the emptiness that hollowed out your bones at just the idea of it made you shiver.

“I heard you’re going to propose.” You said mindlessly and he paused, not looking at you. “To Yuna.” You continued, lip quivering at the sound of her name falling from your own lips. “You’re going to propose to Yuna?”

The last part sounded like an accusation and he didn’t ever look up at you, eyes fixed on your knee, as if all of the words he was supposed to say were written on a script with the blood that dripped out.

It wasn’t fair. He would leave there without you, but your heart would still go with him. After all that time, you felt just as small as you did the day you kissed him. It wasn’t fair.

“I’m happy.” You said, a lie falling from your lips like the tears that fell down your cheeks. He looked up and you wiped them away, missing the deep frown that formed on his features as you sniffled like a child, crying over something that would never be yours.

“Are you?” He asked. You couldn’t reply, eyes blurry with sadness, choked with the lump in your throat. He pressed a band-aid onto your knee and stood up, eyes fixed back onto yours. It was too quiet. Too real.

You looked at him for a long time. Memorized the things you hadn’t seen in so long. His puffy cheeks. The freckle under his eye. The way his eyebrow twitched sometimes when he was upset, nose scrunching slightly before he fixed his expression to what he wanted you to see, pulling back that same curtain he’d been keeping up in front of you since high school. It left you in pieces.

Your eyebrows scrunched together as you looked at him and you wanted to wrap yourself around him and never let go. But you didn’t. You stared at him on that kitchen counter and cried out the words your heart forced you to say.

“I’m happy if you’re happy.” You said, a partial truth. The tears wouldn’t stop falling and he didn’t say anything, just watched you cry in silence. When he reached his hand up, fingers brushing across your cheek and resting on your neck while his thumb brushed the tears away, you let out another sob and restrained yourself from clinging to him. Begging him to stay. You leaned into his touch and for a second, he looked almost as devastated as you.

“I just want you to be happy.” You said softly.

He was quiet like that for a few minutes, hand lingering on your cheek before pulling it away.

The room felt twenty degrees cooler without his skin pressed to yours and that only made you cry harder.

“I’m sorry.” He said too gently. Too sincerely.

And then he was gone.

You sobbed into your hands for a long time before you calmed down enough to hop off the counter. You walked to the bathroom and turned on the shower, peeling your clothes off in your too silent apartment that felt too empty. You sat on the shower floor, hot water slapping you, and promised not to let him in again. Promised that this only happened because you were drunk - everything bad happens when you’re drunk. The alcohol made you lonely, you were truly just fine. Being alone was something you were growing accustomed to, something you had accustomed to. You promised to not let him touch you ever again. It was annoying the way that idea stung in your chest, but eventually the sting faded, and everything went dark, hot water turning to cold.

Feeling nothing was feeling safe (and you felt so safe).

click here for part II

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A/N I am giving myself PTSD with posting a 2 part fic, but guess what y’all - I ALREADY HAVE PART 2 FINISHED (someone clap for me, it’s seriously an accomplishment ok). I was going to post this as one big fic, but it just seemed a lot simpler to read it in 2 parts bc it is nearly 20,000 words. Which is def a big one lolol. I hope you guys LOVE and I will be posting part 2 in a day or 2 after seeing how this one sits with ppl (i’ll be posting part 2 regardless, I just don’t want to upload at the same time). Love you all so much, this is something I have been working on for a YEAR and i needed it out of my system. Baekhyun is my ult and writing angst for him was a challenge, bc he is literally like my actual sunshine on a rainy day. I hope you guys love this as much as I do <3<3<3 Please reblog, like, send me a message!! I love hearing from you all!! I’m going to try to go through my requests today and get some finished, we shall see! Have the best day!!

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