#<- the truest form above all soulmates

[milesfan472]

[tinartss]

some of tin's fav haikavetham fics (fic rec list!)🍓🍓

hello all i've always wanted to make a fic rec list and i feel like i've collected enough hkvh fics to make one now LOL most definitely i am forgetting to include a lot but here are a few of my faves!

notes:

check tags before reading👍

most if not all are sfw bc that is my vibe

sorted from least recent -> most recent

was gonna add little comments to each but i'm now realizing that would take up a huge amt of space so. just know that all of these changed the trajectory of my life. thank u fic authors for all u do🫶

then who? by heartslogos (T, 27k)

“Let me,” Kaveh would say with his eyes, his head, his hands. Let him what? Let him in, let him speak, let him stay, let him touch and see and listen — All of the above. Has it not always been so, the two of them like this, Kaveh and Al-Haitham? Kaveh: not quite asking, not quite taking. Al-Haitham: not quite answering, not quite offering. - Al-Haitham has been confined to bed-rest for a month. Kaveh assists. Al-Haitham recovers, they both do.

Asked and Answered by heartslogos (T, 55k)

It begins in the House of Daena, or at least, Kaveh thinks that that’s where it should begin. If one were to trace the flow of events backwards, it would lead to this moment. If Kaveh were Al-Haitham, he would insist on going further back. Further. Further. Further. All the way back, to the literal beginning of all of time and creation, possibly. But Kaveh’s brain only has enough room for so many creations at any given moment, and the works of others — while inspiring — historically don’t get students passing grades. Or even grades at all. When thinking about one’s relationship with their soulmate, it seems natural to think to a first meeting. A first introduction. Well. This can be said for any relationship. It all begins with that first brush — a name, given; a silhouette, glanced; a voice, heard.

the truest forms of love by heartslogos (T, 29k)

“Nahida said that the moment you touch the seeds is the moment you must stop speaking,” the Traveler says to him, standing between Al-Haitham and the door of the simple, small hut that is to become his and Kaveh’s for the foreseeable future. “Is there anything else you want to say?” The beak of the swan is foreign, cool and strange. Al-Haitham struggles not to flinch away from it as it slides along the side of his jaw, his cheek — imploring and fretful. One last and ineffective plea. Al-Haitham feels the warm weight of solid muscle around his neck, his shoulders — the fidget of wings, the beat of a heart. Al-Haitham’s fingers sink into soft feathers and the bones and muscles of a bird shift against his hands as he holds Kaveh close. What is there to say? Why bother to say something to someone who cannot say anything back? “Stand aside,” Al-Haitham says, slowly lowering Kaveh to the ground. “The sooner I begin, the sooner it ends.” - A story loosely based on the fairy tale of "The Six Swans".

house of cards by luminvies (T, 21k)

There is a scrap of parchment he'd created and abandoned all the way back when the two had been attending the Akademiya together. Sometime between then and the first month he has to move in with Al-Haitham, the list gets crossed out, scribbled over, crumpled up, carefully unfolded again, and revised. The working title for his tireless troubles: Ten Reasons You Cannot, Under Any Circumstances, Fall In Love With Al-Haitham.

…And how Kaveh falls anyway.

through the grapevine by katarasvevo (G, 3.8k)

Theories are passed around in the form of whispers: Professor Alhaitham probably said something that angered Professor Kaveh. Professor Kaveh, unable to let the insult slide, decided to take revenge by interrupting his precious class time. A prediction goes around that in less than ten seconds, Professor Alhaitham will proceed to offend Professor Kaveh even more with a tactless comment, which will lead to Professor Kaveh and Professor Alhaitham murdering each other. The whole class will walk out today without needing to write the test, having been traumatized by the tragic demise of the two professors. It is not a very pleasant line of thought, but it is sadly the only logical outcome.

In which everyone is convinced Professor Alhaitham and Professor Kaveh are sworn enemies, unaware that their relationship isn’t at all what it seems.

the kübler-ross model on romance by luminvies (T, 10.8k)

Kaveh smiles up at the stranger. "Sorry, he's right! I am taken. By him. But he doesn't know it yet." What. "Wait, what did you mean by that?" Al-Haitham asks faintly. "Oh, that?" Kaveh scoffs. "You're a little dense. Obviously, I meant exactly what I said. I wouldn't want to be kept by anybody but you." "But we are—" Al-Haitham trips over his words, trailing behind Kaveh as he walks purposefully through the city. "We aren't. Together. Neither of us has confirmed anything of the sort." Kaveh gives him a derisory look. "And what, we don't act like it? Some things don't have to be put into words to be understood. Ah, I forgot. Haravatat. You probably wouldn't accept anything else any other way." "It is not logical to make assumptions without empirical evidence." "You scholarly types," Kaveh mutters. "Always so particular."

So. Al-Haitham is in love with Kaveh. This has got to be somebody's fault.

Cue the five stages of grief.

The Fall by heartslogos (M, 131k)

In the third generation of Lord Sangemah Bays when all is but a dream, Lord Kusanali, from their divine seat in the Sanctuary of Surasthana stirs and reaches their hands to the sky. They arrange their fingers to capture a square of sky, humming and singing to themselves as they put the patch of star and moon and cloud through the divine calculus before they translate it into the tongues of men to be made knowable, and perhaps even understandable — and with great fortune, actionable. “Summon the court,” Lord Kusanali says, “The Third Face of God has spoken. Hear the Word through me and make your peace. For the God Kings only ever speak thrice on any given subject.” The court of Sumeru crowds the Sanctuary of Surasthana. “That which waits in the Palace of Alcazarzaray can only be absolved through a union of souls and an exchange of hearts, a lifelong journey that ends only in death.” Lord Kusanali translates. And then, beatific, “What you need is a wedding.”

set alight by celestialfics (T, 2.3k)

Since he was young, Alhaitham has followed a self-imposed, unspoken rule not to touch other people unless strictly necessary. Over the years, there have been two exceptions. One was his grandmother, whose side he would cling to as she read him books on the living room couch. She would pet his hair, and he’d lean into the touch, not unlike a kitten blissfully being groomed by its mother. The other exception was an Akademiya upperclassman named Kaveh.

transparent night by kurigohan_to_kamehameha (G, 9.4k)

“Sir, kindly do not obstruct us,” says the matra sharply. “We are in the midst of carrying out an arrest.” “An arrest?” repeats Kaveh, incredulously. “You’re arresting him? You’re arresting him? Why, what in Teyvat has he done?” The Archon Rescue Operation is going as smoothly as it possibly can — that is, until Kaveh returns prematurely from his desert trip, and runs into Alhaitham at the absolute worst possible moment. Of course he would.

this is what happens in the absence of small-talk by pencanze (T, 17k)

Haitham and Kaveh, whose travels are leading them in opposite directions, meet as strangers in a caravanserai—a travelers’ guest house. Because even opposite directions have a point of intersection or overlap, don’t they? Some might even call that point a headfirst collision. And another thing about opposite directions: they still run in parallel, even long after they’ve crossed.

trishna by kurigohan_to_kamehameha (T, 8.2k)

Down the seventh-floor passage in Vahumana, past the statue of the sage Zolfikar, and behind the third door from the left; inside a small, abandoned seminar room in the Sumeru Akademiya is a mirror cursed to show the viewer their heart’s deepest desire. Kaveh’s father smiles at him, slowly, so Kaveh can see it happen; the corners of his mouth quirk upwards and his eyes twinkle. He’s moving, alive. Kaveh hasn’t seen his father smile – not the expression itself, preserved in an old Kamera shot he kept in his sketchbook, but the very action of smiling – in almost ten years. An Alhaitham/Kaveh X Mirror of Erised AU

if they ask my gain from this world’s harvest by patchy (T, 16k)

In the silence that follows, Alhaitham seems to interpret the end of the conversation. He takes a step back into his bedroom and starts to shut the door. “I’ll pay you tomorrow,” Kaveh forces out, his voice cracking embarrassingly. The door pauses in its trajectory. Kaveh takes a deep breath. “But this is the last time,” he continues in a lower voice. “I’ll be out of your space by the end of the month.” Alhaitham pushes open the door.

The House, The Home, You and Me by sonotfine (G, 11.9k)

Alhaitham's books-hoarding situation continued to grow out of control. Kaveh magnanimously decided to offer to build a new house for him, with enough space for his ego and the books too. This was fine by Alhaitham. And, of course, he wanted it to be a house for two. -- On moving out of the old, moving on to the new, and moving forward together.

what it means to point true by luminvies (T, 9.8k)

It is biologically impossible for a man to replicate technological functions. As much as Kaveh (and colleagues) like calling Al-Haitham an index of niche and generally insignificant information on legs, he will never quite live up to the title. Here's a novel one: people must have taken to thinking of him as a human compass because they always seem to come to him when they're looking for Kaveh.

is that what I look like? by kurigohan_to_kamehameha (T, 3,8k)

Alhaitham grows a beard. Why? Who knows.

Three or Four (Or Possibly Five) Easy Steps to Living Harmoniously With Your Roommate by Bgtea (T, 28.7k)

The truth of the matter is, Kaveh has no idea how to read Alhaitham. He prides himself on being an expert at understanding people, his empathetic heart lending him the capacity to relate deeply with those around him (oftentimes to his detriment). But with Alhaitham, there is nothing for him to read; no clues from his cool expression for him to grasp. The man appears stoic all the time even during their petty bickering. Honestly, when was the last time Kaveh has seen the man do anything except smirk or frown? Does Alhaitham feel happiness? Has he ever seen the man laugh? Kaveh's mind is drawing a blank on the latter and it...bothers him deeply. -- Kaveh devises a plan to get Alhaitham to smile by being aggressively nice to the man (and also maybe if he makes Alhaitham happy, he can score a discount on his rent or something). Alhaitham thinks Kaveh ate some mind-altering mushrooms and is, understandably, confused and mildly afraid.

in weal and in woe by kurigohan_to_kamehameha (G, 26.7k)

“Oh, right – Alhaitham.” Kaveh claps a hand to his forehead. “Cyno, if you see him at the Akademiya tomorrow, don’t mention this to him, would you? I haven’t told him yet.”

“Told him?” Cyno asks slowly, a wary glint in his eye. “What exactly haven’t you told him?” “That I’m getting married,” Kaveh grimaces. “I wanted to tell him myself – I suppose I do want him at the wedding after all, you know – but I didn’t get a chance yet. You know what it’s like, trying to have a conversation with him.” It is a truth universally acknowledged that a single man in possession of a good fortune must be in want of a wife. Kaveh is a single man. That's about it, really. or: the one in which Kaveh gets married, but not to whom you think.

the hypothetical shore by heartslogos (T, 10k)

When Al-Haitham was still a student in the Akademiya he wore his hair long. As long as Kaveh’s is now, perhaps a little longer than that, even. But unlike Kaveh's, Al-Haitham’s hair was just as quiet as he was, just as cool — like a stream of silver water, fresh from the mountain pass. To this day Kaveh remembers the exact moment he thought he might be falling in love with Al-Haitham and that, perhaps, it might not be such a terrible thing.

de insomniis by liyuen (M, 32k)

Kaveh and Alhaitham live together. Nothing ever happens. Nothing ever hurts. But sometimes, when Kaveh watches Nahida idly finish her homework, he gets the feeling that he’s forgetting something important.

Kaveh must have fallen asleep at his desk again, the morning light hitting his eyes like a slap. He blinked at the soft green blanket over his shoulders. When he stumbled into the hall, Alhaitham was sitting in the living quarters with his back to him, soundproof earpieces alit. He had a stupid moment where he wanted to call out to Alhaitham. What would he even say? ‘I’m having some trouble.’ ‘Is the blanket yours?’ ‘You were right, I’m in over my head.’ ‘Can you hear me out?’ ‘Help me. Please, help me.’ Stupid. He yawned and went to stumble his way to the kitchen. From his periphery, he thought he saw Alhaitham turn towards him with a look like he wanted to say something. But that, too, surely was just a very nice dream.

The Importance of Interruption by theSealby (T, 8.6k)

Years. It has been years, yet it could’ve been yesterday they were sitting side by side, thigh to thigh, eye to eye, filled with a contentment that their future selves have lost. Maybe it would be enough to have that again. Maybe correctness has no place here—has never been the ultimate goal between them—and Alhaitham finds himself asking a very different question than intended. “How would you like to come home?” ✥ Alhaitham loathes interruptions. (All except one).

To Dream in Shades of Green by Intensely_Reading (T, 55k)

“There are three suitors who you can romance in this game. You must complete all your requirements with one of them." “Who are the three potential suitors?” Kaveh asks warily. “Your three suitors are Tighnari, the blunt Palace Chamberlain; Cyno, the standoffish Captain of the Royal Guard; and Al-Haitham, the acerbic Duke of Vultur Volans.” There's a new invention from the Yae Publishing House that turns a user's dreams into light novel stories. Kaveh has the (un)fortunate pleasure of being one of its first users. Too bad it dumped him in a romance game.

The Theorem of Narrow Interests by lumielle (M, 36k)

Kaveh clicks his tongue. “Well, I hope you are also aware that with all these requirements, you don’t get a set (A+B), or even (A+B+C). Yours is a set comprised of the entire Sumerian alphabet!” Kaveh has had enough of Alhaitham always loitering around the house. In an attempt to get Alhaitham to go out more often, he jokingly tells him to start dating someone. Much to Kaveh’s shock, Alhaitham agrees—and promptly assigns him as his personal matchmaker. And even though Alhaitham’s requirements for his ideal partner are annoyingly specific, Kaveh refuses to back down from a good challenge. He’s confident in his abilities—that is, until his own feelings start getting in the way…

Precipice by viiparyas (M, 37k)

Lately, his heart staggers at a precipice, just one breath from toppling over. Into what, he doesn’t know. After everything, after everything… He can’t help but melt easily into the intimacy between them, whether it’s by his design or not.

Kaveh has won fame and renown through Sumeru, witnessed the dissolution of a corrupt government, traveled from the trenches of homelessness to the pinnacles of a fairytale paradise. And yet something deep between his ribs screams, more, more, more.

or, Kaveh discovering what he truly wants and finally reaching for it. (Spoiler alert: it's Alhaitham)

nazar by pencanze (T, 13k)

It’s like they’re in a globed world of their own, trapped within a glazed bead. Shatterproof, soundproof, impregnable and unbreakable to anyone else—anyone besides themselves. (On superstitions, friendships, and other things that shatter.)

case study of the scribe by Jazer (T, 25.5k)

"The consequences of obtaining knowledge is the overwhelming feeling of loneliness. "

In which Alhaitham realizes that a peaceful existence does not have to mean a lonely one.

People keep coming to Al-Haitham when they want to know where Kaveh is. Al-Haitham would be lying if he said he didn't know why.

silviculture by sunsmasher (T, 13k)

Kaveh’s face is bright, young, flushed, freckled, happy. He’s wearing an Akademiya uniform and is as tall as the last time Alhaitham saw him (fifteen minutes ago) which means he’s an inch or two shorter than the last time Alhaitham saw him, because the uniform boots are heeled. He’s staring at Alhaitham with the aforementioned flush spreading like dye over the silk of his cheeks. “Kaveh,” Alhaitham says. “Don’t freak out. I believe I’ve been displaced in time.”

spitefully yours by luminvies (T, 6k)

Dear Al-Haitham, I propose that we meet this Friday at sundown on the southeast edge of the city bordering Avidya Forest. This is a marital engagement. Please come prepared with your sword at the ready. With spite, Kaveh Al-Haitham sets down the letter, letting out a long sigh. After all, isn’t the answer to dealing with domestic disputes not marriage? Isn’t that entirely contradictory to the issue?

Kaveh sends Al-Haitham martial summons to sort out their issues. Unfortunately, he makes a small error in the letter.

The Art of Misunderstanding by Anonymous (M, 7k)

"Kaveh didn't consider himself to be vain. Yet he was becoming increasingly, upsettingly aware that most associates would disagree. Vanity, by definition, refers to an inflated sense of self-importance and pride in oneself. A vain person may believe themselves to be the best in the room. They may find it absurd that all eyes do not fall on them the instant they make themselves known. A vain person may put themselves on a pedestal, believing themselves objectively skilled in their field. And though Kaveh had trust and confidence in himself as an artist, he was caught entirely off-guard to hear that others thought of him as vain." ------ AKA, Kaveh misunderstands when he overhears an upsetting conversation between old classmates. His assumption is that they are attacking his character and commenting on his personality. In reality, they're talking about his looks. Everyone picks up on it, save for Kaveh himself.

Illness, Drowning, and Other Minor Inconveniences by EulerIHKH (G, 11k)

Faced with a uniquely difficult client, Kaveh is reluctantly forced to look for help in the one architect he considers more capable than himself: his mother. But soon enough, the turmoil of Kaveh's personal life begins to seep into their professional correspondence, forcing him to reevaluate his career, relationships, and identity.

love haitham and kaveh....love these fics....so many talented writers...thank you authors <33 def missing a bunch bc my organization on ao3 is horrendous but i can update this or make another list at some point....also i would highly appreciate any recs tyy🙏

( + bonus not rec but self promo of a hkvh fic i tried my hand at writing last summer but never shared oops. here she is if you're intrigued

a comedy of errors (T, 6.7k) )

[shark-myths]

truly i was born for this! @citrusandsalt gets me *cracks knuckles, dives in*

sunshine riptide of my lifetime

darling this question is SO CLEVER, because i am so tonedeaf, i didn't even notice! and it's so interesting because sunshine riptide as a song feels to me like what pete's said in recent interviews, somehow by chance surviving to adulthood on a rollercoaster of celebrity and then arriving fully-formed and realizing you don't know how to live or make yourself happy as an adult. we see this theme in the opening of heartbreak from the other side, too. it speaks to being numbed out, medicated for bipolar disorder and cresting on manic highs, and then it posits the glorious poly solution to all their soulmate problems: Take all your possibilities then take away the limits.

as a contrast, the phrase sunshine riptide itself seems to simultaneously refer to the feeling of being manic and the feeling of being in love with patrick.

so do we think that sunshine of my lifetime is meant to be an explicit callback to the feeling and sentiment expressed in that song???? you are my truest feeling yet, you're just like oxygen? there are no atheists in fox holes (you can say you don't believe in true love until you're IN IT)???? tell me yes. i want this so badly. sunshine is the key that busts this whole thing wide open

what would you swallow the pain for

let us not skip what bob dylan has to say about billboards! nor what the kintsugi kid has to say about swallowing. (i'm not cackling you're cackling)

bob dylan is about fame, fanaticism, fandom, the over-visibility and simultaneous invisibility of celebrity, people who don't know you thinking they know everything about you, and pete feeling that way about patrick all at once:

Come down from your holy mountain / I'm down, I'm down / So put your shame on a billboard for a second / Sometimes the only way out is through

whereas kintsugi gives us pete's history of apologizing himself out of patrick's orbit and a fantastic flip of the drug use metaphor into pharmacological pete, the medicine man:

I'm pretty sure, as far as humans go / I am a hard, hard pill to swallow / And I know I'm not your intended dose / We're going low, low, low, low

and hey, while we're hurting ourselves, why not hum hallelujah too? let's just have allllll the swallowing (this time of blue ativan. really. it's not about sex)

A teenage vow in a parking lot / 'Til tonight do us part / I sing the blues and you swallow them too

okay that was mostly an excuse for me to talk about swallowing. I'M NOT SORRY. (icyww its other appearance is during The Mighty Fall and it's immensely loving, so it doesn't fit as well here, but i do think relates to how it's being used in Church: It's getting clear / You're never coming clean / So I'll lock you up inside / And swallow, swallow the key)

so to consider the ACTUAL question. "what would you trade the pain for/I'm not sure vs make the pain billboard big and swallow it for me" - to me, i'm thinking about how here 'the pain' is not being able to be together publicly in the time/place they would have wanted to. it's the tryst, and its end; it's the time wasted on unrequited and internalized angst instead of action; it's time is luck, and i wish ours had overlapped more, or for longer. the pain, in a way, is what they did have together, in lieu of happily ever after. so it becomes precious beyond reckoning. something you'd never trade away. something you'd blow up to the size of a billboard (public perception, celebrity, pete wentz as a product, 1-833-OUTBOYS, ugh) but then swallow, to keep it secret and for yourselves. and also: i'm asking you to just swallow it. just swallow the pain, the uncertainty, the ethics, the internalized homophobia, what other people think--swallow it all, and we can be together. we can have this. we can savor it. we can love the way it hurts us--it's irresistible.

every lover's got a little dagger in their hand

observe as i rise nobly above all the dick jokes i want to make! my main thought here is that we can make a jaded line about betrayal and how the people you love most are the best equipped to hurt you (and/or a pandemic-era read on how everyone is carrying an invisible potential threat inside them and could literally end you!), by zooming in on pete's use of the word 'lover' as really quite telling

the first time FOB ever uses the word lover, as far as i can tell, is in Golden (IOH, 2007). it's not directed at the ubiquitous, unspecified you ((read: patrick)) that most FOB songs are; instead this song is sung to / about the self. it's an extremely peterick, being-queer-is-monstrous song. tongue on the sockets of electric dreams indeed!

And I saw God cry in the reflection of my enemies / And all the lovers with no time for me / And all of the mothers raise their babies / To step away from me.

we see it show up again in Thanks for the Memories on the same record. here it's pete talking about people talking about pete--so not the word lover in his own mouth, but in the mouth of people who are generally positioned to find him to be a slut / a sellout / a spectacle / a sham.

They say I only think in the form of crunching numbers / In hotel rooms collecting page six lovers / Get me out of my mind and get you out of those clothes, I'm a liner away from getting you in the mood

the next appearances of lover are in Bang the Doldrums (FAD, 2008), referring to Mikey Way (best friends, ex-frinds til the end, better off as lovers and not the other way around) and all the way on Save Rock and Roll (2013) as a throwaway self-description once again (I'm a young lover's rage, gonna need a spark to ignite)

this is a long way of saying, using the word lover to me reads as very non-patrick usage. other people are lovers; patrick is a category unto himself. in 20 years of songwriting primarily about romantic relationships, pete never goes for the word lover unless he's describing other people's perceptions of him, a feeling state, or one of his exes who were ultimately found to be unworthy--not a part-time soulmate, not semi-sweet, not the person's he's sneaking into heaven for. not the you he's been [literally] writing to all this time.

tl;dr: you can't trust lovers, they can undo you easier than anyone else, either with a virus or casual human cruelty. but patrick, he's your wilson, he's your desert island guy, he's the one you want to shelter with. he's sunshine. he's made of gold.

thank you, this was so delightful. i love you immensely. let's keep talking about this beautiful record please!!!!! your thoughts are the best thoughts

ok WHERE is my girl @shark-myths I need to know what we're thinking about "you were the sun-shine of my life-time" vs "sun-shine rip-tide" in the same singsongy rhythm

Also while we're here, what are we doing about what would you trade the pain for/I'm not sure vs make the pain billboard big and swallow it for me

BONUS ROUND: there's two obvious rhymes for apocalypse that fit with where every lover could have a dagger and they went with neither what are they doing someone tell me

[clare-with-no-i]

What’s one thing, according to you, that makes canon James and Lily perfect for each other?

THIS! QUESTION! I am not kidding, I went and grabbed a glass of water before I sat down to answer this because we are getting down to business now, people... *cracks knuckles*

so, I headcanon that Lily’s and James’s patronuses do not match each other because they were thinking of one another when casting them, or because they fell in love. now, before we grab the pitchforks, let me explain.

the Harry Potter wiki page for Patronuses states: “The specific animal forms that a corporeal Patronus takes will vary from person to person and reflect each individual's innermost personality.” I much prefer to think that James’s Patronus is a reflection of his personality (strong, defiant, a leader) and his animagus form, and Lily’s a reflection of her spirit (gentle, understanding, but still strong and formidable).  I tend to think that they learned their Patronuses in sixth year - it’s regarded as “more advanced than NEWT” magic (according to the HP wiki), so there’s no reason to think it was actually a part of the curriculum (in fact, upon further research, it is not in the Hogwarts curriculum); I just think that both James and Lily (and company) would have been the type of people to take on the challenge of casting one because they were both overachievers like that. 

so, with this, there’s no reason to think that James’s Patronus memory is of Lily yet; for all intents and purposes, by sixth year, they’re barely friends; all memories of her would probably be tinged with the knowledge that he’s in love with her and she doesn’t (yet) love him back. as for her, it is quite safe to say that she would not have had her happiest memory be of him at that point. I think that he is thinking of a full moon night or a night spent with his friends (the deer being symbolic of his place within the group of four), and she’s thinking of something from her youth - maybe her backyard in Cokeworth had deer, or something to that effect.

why? because I don’t think that either of them fundamentally changed when they fell in love - James changed and grew because of many factors, some of which might have been Lily. Lily became more discerning, more headstrong, as the war took shape around her. They complemented each others’ personalities, yes, but they did not intrinsically shift as people.  I think the idea that their Patronuses match before they start dating, and continue to do so, is a reflection of the fact that their truest personalities are matched for each other, which (imo) is so much more powerful than just having your Patronus memory be of the other.  Of course, I think that after a while of dating, their Patronus memories would have been of each other, but that doesn’t mean that the forms would have changed. they were, at their cores, deeply compatible people - they just needed to grow into the versions of themselves that could act upon, and appreciate, that fact.

essentially, I believe this because I like to think that James’s and Lily’s love was based on the compatibility of their innermost souls, not the other way around.

I think this also holds up even when confronted with this: “Based on the fact that Patronuses are conjured by recalling happy memories, it stands to reason that a Patronus might change its form after one falls in love and the memories used to conjure the Patronus largely revolve around the person the caster is in love with.” (from the HP wiki)

I think that the above^ passage is more apt to reflect Sn*pe than Jily - that Patronus form does not reflect their compatibility as people, or the idea that they matched each other; rather a sense of ownership, a crystallized form of Lily in his mind that he wasn’t able to let go of.

so, yeah! there we go. this is a hot take, I know - I’m not trying to make this into some sort of “soulmate” statement, but rather that the groundwork was there from the beginning, and they just needed to have the right circumstances come about so that they could see it.

[peaches-of-1]

The Heart of the Lamia | Chapter 2

Naga!BTS x Black!Reader

The continuation of my Peachtober Hybrid!AU. This was supposed to come out in November, but that didn’t happen. Here it is now. One more part after this.

This chapter includes: mention of snakes, slight angst, an image of food, implied death, mention of death/blood. Ask for more tags as needed

A large red snake watched as she was taken to a bedroom usually reserved for lost humans. Slitted eyes watched carefully as the exhausted form was carried by the oldest. Did she not want to be with them so badly? She could rebirth a nation. It was her fate to find them and do so. Why was she hesitating?

Jimin had gone off to go sulk somewhere other than his room and Taehyung was close behind, knowing the sorrow in his soulmate’s heart. Yoongi glanced at Namjoon and the two shared a nod before the white scaled creature went off on his own to attend to some business, giving a glance to Jin and the beautiful girl passed out on his broad shoulders.

The youngest made eye contact with Namjoon, a question on his face answered by a head shake and a compassionate frown. Jungkook sighed knowing she had refused them. He slumped against the cracking yet sturdy wall.

“What next?” The black haired man questioned no one in particular.

“Is her mother alive?” Hoseok asked as he stood next to their leader.

Namjoon shook his head, “Don't know. Do you think you could--”

“If Jin can get a piece of her hair without being blasted, I can try. He knows what I need to do my work.”

The purple eyed Naga nodded, “Right. I'd like to speak to her first if I could.”

The red head acknowledged the request as Taehyung comforted the angry Jimin above the waterfall. The older Naga could understand why the young adventurer, their princess, would not want to birth a nation when she thought her life led to more.

“She's our last chance, Tae.” A strained voice cried out while the sun began to set, making their world even more orange hued. “If she refuses or leaves, there's no way we can survive the King's next attack on us.” The younger boy sniffled. 

Taehyung rubbed his back, “Just give her time. I'm sure she'll accept her destiny if we just give her time.”

With a tearstained face, Jimin asked, “And if she doesn’t?”

“We wait. Either way, we wait.” He wrapped his tail around his closest friend’s as a sign of camaraderie and unspoken support.

I knew I was moving and I remembered who it was, but I couldn’t bring my body back to consciousness. My ashe was strong. My body was weak and could not move. I could hear very little as light went away and turned into darkness. Jin was humming to himself, though. It comforted me.

When I felt my body fall upon a bed, I smelled its age. This was a bed, I’m pretty sure. I couldn’t open my eyes to confirm this fact for myself. A soft fabric was tossed over me as the humming continued. Soon, I felt a hand on my shoulder and on my face. Warm breath caressed the tip of my nose as I heard his words clearly.

“You’re more beautiful when you’re awake. Rest well, and I’m glad you have come to us princess. I know you will make the right choice.” Then a sigh. “I wish I could kiss you, but I shall wait until I have your permission.”

Somehow it got even darker as I felt the room get colder. He was gone. I was asleep. What was the right choice anyways?

Jin soon returned with a strand of Y/N's curly hair stuck in one of his glittering scales which resided upon his shoulders and upper back. The hair was plucked by Hoseok who went into one of the main chambers to begin the ritual of correspondence with Namjoon. The sunset was always a bit too long here, it felt, as it had begun when the two went into the living chambers and the sun was still glowing with no moon in sight.

“Is she set up in a clean room?” Yoongi asked, appearing out of seemingly nowhere.

“Of course she is!” Hissed the oldest but knew the mint haired Naga was only speaking out of the truest concern. “The others kept Her room cleaned up nicely though I thought they always ignored me when I asked. It almost shines like it does in the legend.”

The small one made a noise that sounded as though he was pleased, “Plase, let me know when she wakes up, hyung. I wanna show her something. Might take Hobi a while to contact the mother as well.”

“Understood. I’ll go back to my guitar and will check on her soon. I know she said no, but I hope we can change her mind.” Jin rubbed the back of his neck.

Yoongi nodded, “I wonder if she knows even we’re missing part of the story. She was supposed to have the other half, but it doesn’t seem like that’s the case.”

With the clink of soft hands against a hard surface, Hoseok prepared the glass mirror that had long been shattered and then fixed with gold. Mixing Her hair with several elixirs filled with magic and finding the unknown. He just had to find her elder kin. A part of him was nervous that it wouldn’t work out and they’d all be wiped out for kidnapping their savior.

“This isn't hard, Hobi.” Namjoon’s calming and assuring voice broke through the self-doubt. “You know the face is like Her’s. You have the DNA which binds them. You can find her mother.”

The man coiled in the center of the room and used his gift to search for the woman who chose who would find them. Who sent Y/N to the boys because she herself refused to find them, or failed in her efforts to do so.

Hoseok spoke ancient words that spilled from his lips, causing his hair to slowly lift into the air and a golden aura of light to wrap around his being. The others wouldn't interrupt unless it was life or death. His eyes filled with sunlight and Namjoon made his way towards the mirror.

In his mind's eye which was reflected upon the broken mirror, Hobi saw graves. Generations of women who failed to find them. Some who weren't accepted as the women they were. Others that had been accepted completely, but would have more trouble in the process. Then he found himself looking at a brightly patterned skirt and a white tank top being cleaned by a river.

“Mother of our Savior, with a heart like fire, is this who I'm speaking to?”

The older woman yelped and then peered into the water with a face like Y/N, just a few more wrinkles around the eyes and mouth.

“It's you. It's real.” She gasped noting the midnight slits in the purple pits of his eyes.

“Did you ever doubt?” The question came honestly.

“Absolutely,” The answer just as truthful, “But I'm guessing Y/N found you. How many are left?”

A heavy swallow, but he kept her eyes, “7”

Furrowed compassionate brows and a solemn nod, “Where is she? Preparing for the first ritual?”

Namjoon shook his head and replied, “She's worn herself out refusing us and is now resting in the room of your ancestor.”

“That's my girl.” A hearty chuckle left plump lips as eyes closed shut. Soon eyes returned with a glint of curiosity, “Any bruises?”

“Not on us, no. We didn’t try anything.” He said with his hand over his heart. “Even if we did, the necklace she wears upon her person--”

The older face nodded, “Right, it protects the true heir. I knew it was her from the moment she opened her eyes. They used to have the mark of magic, but there were several years including several wars. Magical children were hunted. She only found out about her powers before she went on her search. I told her what I could, but she didn’t listen. It isn’t much, but it’s there.”

The dredloced woman made a face that tinged with sorrow, “I’m glad she’s alive. We hadn’t heard from her in months. I am glad you found her and that you contacted me. Her magic may have gotten stronger since I last saw her. Well, not like I have to tell you that.”

“Magic resides in all of Medusa’s children.” Hoseok replied, not breaking his focus with an easy smile.

Namjoon turned his attention to his friend before his eyes set back onto the gilded mirror, “Do you think you can talk to her once she wakes up? We've told her all we can, which is everything. She needs more convincing...and we were--”

“Y'all were hoping I could get her to spread her legs for you.”

Namjoon blushed at the straightforward wording, “Y-yes. To put it frankly.”

“My answer is the same as her’s. No.”

“I have told you there are only seven of us left. If the ritual is not completed before--”

“You want her, you need her to give birth to your children so that you reclaim your rightful lands. I know the story. I know that you will all end sooner or later if she does not.” A breath was taken alongside a stern glance to read the young man. “Since that is the case, then win her over and convince my daughter of how badly you need her yourself.”

Dark hands spun pink magic which went through the communication and dispersed on a broad and glistening chest. “It is her choice, not mine. She is more than a vessel. Until then, you will be unable to contact me. Goodbye, my never ever after.”

The connection ended and Hoseok couldn't bring it back. His eyes returning to their yellow and green tone. Y/N’s mother may not have believed in them, but her faith in magic was stronger. Well practiced. Both men sighed and Namjoon’s posture slumped in defeat. They didn’t have time for this, but he couldn’t be mad at a mom supporting her daughter’s choice.

The older of the two men spoke in the thick silence, “She gave me a recipe.”

“A what?” Namjoon was puzzled, and moved his head from his hands to gaze up at him.

“For a dessert.” Hobi responded. “I'll head into town and get the ingredients for Jin.”

The leader scratched his head, “Alright, be safe. Be back before it's too late.”

“Of course.”

“It'll be good to give her something familiar. Make her more familiar around us.”

I awoke to the smell of sugar and...home. It was home? No. Not at all. My home was more beautiful than this. I followed my nose into what I guessed was supposed to be the dining room and in the smell sat several snakes with the torsos and heads of men. The ones I met earlier.

“It was not a dream then.” I said in my mother tongue.

“No, it was not.” Namjoon replied the same.

I looked at him in shock, “How do you know my…”

“He’s been studying your language for years, Princess Y/N.” Jungkook was the one to answer me. “He wanted to make sure he could talk to you if you ever came. I was inspired by him to do the same.”

His eyes glittered. A snake with the eyes of a doe, what a world we lived in.

“Sit next to me, Y/N. Please?” Taehyung asked and I decided to oblige.

My bare feet sat next to the emerald scaled creature as I glanced around at the others. They were all so intent on my every movement, but although the attention was uncomfortable it was not unwanted. I know it sounds odd. Yet, I knew there was a connection here. Something I was unaware of. Something...missing. Jimin was the only one not looking. Did he still hate me so?

Jin came out and placed a plate out in front of each of us. Dinner was a type of soup. Stew, I should say. It was strong and hearty. Very different from the delicate tastes I had during my stay at the King’s palace. The stone floor was hard on my back, so I did my best to adjust. Had my one month in the house of royals already made me unable to bear the grit of a real human’s life?

A broad and firm mass was behind me, and I looked behind me to see a collection of red scales from the young man who was sitting to my right. Hoseok smiled at me with a heart shaped grin that I had never seen before.

“Use my tail if you need padding, Princess Y/N.”

“Simply, Y/N is fine. I assure you.” The words came out more stern as I had intended. “Although you have told me what I am, I do not think I can carry the responsibility.”

The meal was quiet and yet warm. These men knew each other so well and Taehyung was so kind to me, making sure I had enough to eat and drink. His smile was so endearing that I didn’t want to say no. His aura was so charismatic. I felt as though I were still just a village girl in love with a village boy who would later have his blood on my hands.

“Don’t make her eat too much.” Jin scolded him. “She’ll throw up and not have enough space for the special dessert I made. I worked so hard on it too. It’s a recipe from her mother.”

I shot up, “My mother?”

The oldest sniffed and then mumbled something in Korean before basically running to the kitchen. Is that why it smelled so familiar? I looked around for an answer.

“Yes, we contacted your mother.” Namjoon was the one to speak. “Hoseok here is very apt in the...magic of linkage. We contacted her in hopes she could talk some sense into you, though it seems you didn’t end on very good terms.”

“What did she say?” I asked, my throat getting tight.

Hoseok spoke up, “She said--”

“No.” The word came out in their language. “I want to hear him say it.”

He told me that she was glad that I was ok and that she was proud of me. My mom didn’t say that she missed me, though. Why would she after lying to me all of my life? Still, she supported me and gave Hobi a telepathic message of some sort. A recipe she knew I loved.

As if on cue, Jin came out with bakalawa bil jibna. Lybian baklava to simplify it. I grabbed one and ate it, not minding the heat. The cream cheese filling caused my eyes to blur. It wasn’t like Mama’s, but I missed this treat so much. She did miss me then. A white tail offered a piece of cloth for me to dry my eyes.

“She told us you travelled many months to find us.” Hoseok said. “Can you tell us about them?”

I did as the boys seemed interested. My many travels across many lands in search of what I believed to be my fate. The hot sands and rough forests, the deep lakes and long sea voyages. All to get to here. However, when I talked about palace life, they scoffed and became tense. The meal was done, so I finished quickly saying my adventure had ended here for now.

“Trust me, Y/N. Every day with these boys is an adventure.” Jimin said with a laugh before cutting himself off. “Ah, I’m going to bed. G-goodbye, princess. Um, Y/N.”

Yoongi approached shyly to speak to me, “I wanna show you something. Hobi got some clothes for you to wear to bed, so grab that and meet me by the river door.

On my bed was a light orange gown with sparse silver beading. Not too expensive, but more than I thought they'd get. I held it in my arms and grabbed the water pitcher that was nearby before meeting up with the shiest snake man.

“You are so much cuter than I thought you'd be.” He admitted. “Sorry if that's odd to say. Also sorry for earlier. We're just really scared about our future.”

He said this as he lifted a fallen branch out of the way. Thicker than my waist. With so much ease. My heart and eyes fluttered at how gracefully he did so while still keeping the conversation going.

“We understand if you wanna go back to the king tomorrow, come sunlight.” He motioned for me to go first.

“Probably.” I replied, biting my lip and holding the fabric close to my chest. “What did you wanna show me for now?”

“Hot springs.” He pulled away the curtain like leaves to reveal the source of humidity in the area that seemed to glow. “I come here after a really stressful day. It's not enchanted or anything, but it makes me feel so comfortable.” 

“Is it really ok for me to--” I began to ask.

“Yes...it is, cuz I like you. Not just because of, but also cuz you're very...I'm sorry. I'll send one of the others to come get you, help you find your way back.”

And off he slithered with reddening ears and a soft smile. His white tail glittering beautifully in the moonlight. Alright then. It had been a while since a boy had been so shy towards me, and I quite enjoyed such a strong and powerful creature being so innocent and reserved. The king was wrong. They weren’t human, not by a long shot, but they weren’t beasts.

He didn't give a proper explanation either when I asked if it was ok, I thought as I disrobed and placed my clothing on a nearby tree branch away from the water. It was just past sunset as I soaked in the heated water.

Nearby flames kept me comfort as I used the pitcher to pour over my head. In the silence, I gave myself the chance to think. These were seven beautiful creatures that believed I was the one to give birth to their next generation in order to keep the lineage alive as they were the only ones left. I didn't want them to die out. I wanted them to reclaim their lands and be as happy as they once were.

They were no match with such small numbers and regular human women weren't very successful in birthing their young. They still existed somewhere, though. Right? They had to.

I sung my head under the water and held my breath, seeing very clearly the details of the natural rock and admiring the glow even though the water was far from clear. My eyesight had been good ever since I was young.

I had adventured far and wide to find my fate. This was it, no doubt about it, but. I wanted to do more than simply be a mother. Legs open for them to lay their young inside, though I couldn't help but image how big they were. And according to the cave drawings, they had two p--

I dove down deeper in the water as my necklace lay dormant. Why was I thinking about that?!?!? I had to keep my head on straight.

A mother. My mother.

I remember the day she told me about my magic that had been dormant. It’s because I got lost and that snake. Afeaa with her black and white stripes. I saved her from a hidden trap and she saved my life in return. It explained why the snakes never bit me, why I often found them coiled up outside my bedroom. Why they always wanted to bite him. He...

My lungs brought in a huge gulp of air as I resurfaced. The boys spoke about wanting to claim this area back once their numbers were high again, but there was no way the king would let them live so long. There had to be something more. There had to be. I was sure as I went towards my clothing.

“Princess Y/N, hyung told me to come and get you and--” Two eyes that seemed to hold the galaxies inside of them peaked through the leaves and then hid. “OMG, I'm so sorry, Princess. I didn't think you'd be so exposed when I arrived. Please forgive me.”

I got dressed, trusting he wouldn’t peek. A torch was gripped tightly in his glossy black tail.

“Jungkook, right?”

He nodded, “Y-yes, Princess Y/N. I really didn't mean it. Really.”

“I know. My necklace would've glowed if you were trying to perv on me. I think.” Though I wasn't 100% sure.

He smiled quite cutely for a beast, “Would you rather walk or ride me?”

“Ride you?” The words came out before I realized his back was towards me. “Ride your tail, right. I shall do that since I'm unsure of my footing here.”

However, neither the misunderstanding of words or the strong muscles that rippled with every movement helped to shoo away previous thoughts.

“Namjoon hyung wants to know if you'll be staying or leaving at sunrise.” The young one did his best to make conversation.

“I should return. If not, the king will surely come and attack here sooner rather than later. Will Namjoon be taking me back?”

A nod, “Yes. He says he wants to talk to you, but he is working through some stuff. He over thinks a lot over small things. Watch your head.”

I ducked my head down and we went through a thick area of trees, my hands gripping tightly at his arms before we went upwards.

“Your room is here. Hobi did a good job at getting clothes for you.”

I stepped off of his tail and onto the smooth rock floor and thanked him. He was shy and hesitant.

“Forgive me for being so forward, but I hope you don't hate us. We've been waiting for a long time for you, Princess Y/N, but I know you don't feel the same.”

I reached out my arm, “I don't hate you guys. You've shown me mostly kindness and patience, understanding. I'm just, I wanna do more than be an incubator.”

He smiled, “Understood. I'll let Namjoon know you'll be leaving and try to get the others to understand. Thank you for not hating us. Goodnight, Y/N.”

The light left with him, leaving me to simply rest before tomorrow's lengthy walk back into the kingdom. They were really...nice. I didn’t want my heart to beat for them, though.

[smuttymess]

bts astro soulmate reading | for jenn

sign: virgo sun | virgo moon | taurus rising

lover: kim namjoon | soulmate: kim taehyung

This reading is for Jenn, a cutie who triple biases Yoongi, Jimin and Namjoon but is regularly wrecked by Jungkook. And to complicate things further you are astrologically compatible with 2/3 of the Big Dick Kim line! It certainly can’t be easy living this way. Anyway, hope you enjoy this reading, love.

Where to begin, Virgo? Determined, intellectual, gracious and refined are some of the ways you are perceived by the world around you. With both your Sun and Moon in Virgo, these traits are fully amplified and realized on a daily basis and make up your sense of identity - your dedication to hard work, patience, fairness and learning acting as the pillars of your life. You are one of the strongest and most secure forces in the zodiac, and you value this piece of yourself highly as it is tied into your ego but also your truest self. A natural leader, the confidence exuded from your innately stable, curious and rational mind is very attractive to those around you who lack your focus and fortitude in their own lives. The desire and ability to help people is more or less in your DNA, and your friends, family, and colleagues are always happy to take your advice, which you are able to deliver plainly and matter-of-factly- a true gift heightened by your Taurus rising. The analyzer of the star signs, beneath your outwardly stoic exterior is a mind that is constantly hard at work, looking to improve or correct either yourself or society at large. To you, beauty lies in the ability to identify problems - of which there are endless amounts - and fix them methodologically. Full of ideas, solutions, and well-informed insights, alongside a meticulously detailed mind - you see things that other’s regularly miss. With such strong principles and a dedication to righteousness in all areas of your life, you no stranger to openly voicing your thoughts to others about how the world can and should be. If only the world would listen!

You are the pure embodiment of quantity over quality, with everything and everyone in your orbit serving as an irreplaceable, valuable part of your life. It is exceptionally rare for you to engage with any frivolity and and careless behavior, and you want those around you to exist on a similarly high wavelength. While you are sociable and curious, it is likely that you have a small circle of extremely close friends, family, and romantic relationships who you hold dear. Loyalty comes naturally to you when people provide themselves to be trustworthy and kind, and you enjoy deep, lifelong connections with those select few. Quality also exists in the way you present yourself, the food you eat, and the beverages you consume. You are certainly not someone that over-indulges in lavish meals or time-consuming practices, opting instead to buy high quality ingredients and cook at home. It is in the organic produce section of the grocery store where you see a man looking extremely lost as he navigates around all of the fruits and vegetables. You're pretty sure by just looking at him that he has not ever made a meal in his life, his large hands clumsily handling each piece of produce in search of the right one, and you hate seeing a poor attractive stranger in need. Are you lost? After successfully guiding him to the right section, your helper Virgo at work, you turn to walk away before he shyly asks if you could also help him locate another item in the store. I have to make dinner for my hyungs tonight and as you can see have no idea what I'm doing. Though typically not easily distracted, there is no way you're saying no to this man - who introduces himself as Kim Namjoon - or those strong arms that you can imagine wrapping around your frame, holding you close and moving over your curves.

The relationship that ensues between you and Namjoon is initially relatively platonic, with you two Earth signs moving at a notoriously glacial pace physically - choosing instead to build and truly get to know each other's minds first and foremost. Between two Virgos is an immediate mental connection as you are both incredibly intellectual, able to jump easily across a vast range of topics. With Namjoon, you don't even have to go far to feel a world away - enthralled in the depth of his intelligence, virtues and drive provided by his Mercury in Libra and Jupiter in Scorpio. Your chart equips you with a strength, wisdom, and shyness that mimics his own character, and that is highly attractive to him. Only when you feel that you've established full trust with each other's hearts can you move into the physical, which ranges from sweet and passionate to energetic and frenzied. You're not ones for exhibition or excessive experimentation, preferring your tried-and-true methods of getting each other off in the privacy of your own home. Foreplay for you normally consists of an intellectual sparring match over dinner, the ideas flowing back and forth before you find yourselves back at his apartment, lips locked as you your hands float down down his strong, firm back as he carries you to the bedroom. Two Virgos are typically not as passionate as they are skilled, and you both derive satisfaction from seeing the other go crazy under your expert touch. As his hands move gently down your frame before slipping two fingers in between your thighs, you are taken out of the harsh, thinking world and into a more sensual one where you are both able to lose yourselves. Nothing turns Namjoon more than seeing you squirm beneath him, panting as he fucks you with his perfectly thick cock. It is hard to not completely fall apart at his voice or his smirk above you, his eyes increasingly dark at the sight of your pure lust. You look so fucking good baby. Say my name and tell me how much you love this, I want to hear you. Louder, baby.

Two Virgos have the capacity for romance, but in the long term gets eclipsed by the high levels of criticism that exists in this pairing. You are both prone individually to being nit-picking and finding flaws in yourself and others out of a shared desire to seek perfection in everything. For you, nothing is ever enough, and the journey to perfection is unending. Unfortunately, when you apply this much criticism to a relationship without enough emotional investment or words of affection, it will inevitably buckle beneath such pressure. Ultimately, after the dust of the breakup settles, you and Namjoon are able to acknowledge your differences and accepting that you are better as friends. And this is a lifelong friendship, with both of you serving as a resource to bounce ideas off of and get valuable feedback from. Namjoon regularly confides in you about his concerns about the future of his career, knowing you will provide an objective and logical take. Meanwhile, you find comfort in knowing that regardless of all of your pursuits, Namjoon will always hold you to the highest possible standard and that he is always a simple phone call away. Confidants in your professional realms, you are not afraid to share in each others growth, taking pride in your individual growth.

Not one to jump from one romantic relationship to the next, you use your time post-Namjoon to fully immerse yourself in your work and your interpersonal relationships. It surprises you as much as anyone when you find yourself giving your phone number to Kim Taehyung at a small gathering of friends. A Capricorn Sun with his Moon in Aries, he is the embodiment of intense and deliberate charm, which he decides to use to break down your more reserved, shy Virgo. He finds your initial standoffishness very cute and refreshing in a sea of men and women that constantly try to get his attention, and immediately senses that there is much more to you than meets the eye than a serious, stubborn brat. While you are relatively disinterested at first - he seems silly and a potential charmer on this particular night - he does not stop until he leaves with your number, promising to see you soon. Admittedly, your poor reasonable Virgo heart never stood a chance against the Capricorn deliberate intention paired with his godly visuals. That night you definitely go home and fantasize about how it would feel like to have those fingers playing with your nipples and grasping at every inch of you.

You are impressed to learn that Tae offers more than a gorgeous face and lethal charm. More than anything, you want to be secure, and in dating Taehyung you see the opportunity to create a life of comfort, stability and peace. While highly motivated and a perfectionist in his own right (Sun and Mercury in Capricorn) Tae possesses a cool, relaxed approach to life and his place within it. This quality, aided by his Venus in Aquarius. that provides you with the ideal level of autonomy, nurturing, and support you need in a partner. He doesn't need you to leave him alone because he knows when to pull back and let you focus, returning to share and engage in stories of your separate interests. The mutual appreciation and respect allows you two to form a very strong mind-soul connection over time. While you are both slow to engage in physical relationship, when you do it is here that your relationship is taken to new heights. Sex with Tae is not always spontaneous, but you are both extremely focused on each others pleasure and he is known to surprise you by shaking up the routine. You could be prepping dinner before you feel his hands on you kisses all over your body  before moving down to move your legs apart, his breath moving against your slit as he teases you. Wanting to ensure you are always in the present and not thinking about the next item on your to-do list, it is normal for his eyes to stay fixed on yours as he thrusts hard and deeply into you. He possess a magical ability to transport you to a much more uninhibited mindset - the growls leaving his mouth as your wetness drips down your thighs enough to make you forget you have the stove on. Phone sex when he is on the road is also a given, and he can make you come in record time simply by describing the way he wants you to touch your neck, the sensitive skin on your inner thighs. You body shakes as you hear him losing himself on the other end of the line. God, I can’t wait to fuck you my gorgeous girl. When I get home need you to be ready for me, just like you are right now. Send me a picture, I need to see how needy you are.

Your life with Taehyung is one built on mutual trust, respect and dedication. It is likely that you cultivate a minimalistic, stylish home that has all of the small comforts you desire and also showcases your individual personalities: Tae's photography on the walls and your many books and accolades lining the shelves. It is here that you enjoy a much-deserved refuge of the grind of everyday life before heading back out into the world to take it on full force the next morning. Though you approach life's challenges similarly (with full force and concentration) you are also able to show each other different ways of seeing the world: you with pure, pointed reason from your list experiences and he with more out-of-the-box, future-focused thinking. Tae's eccentric self allows you to access a more vulnerable and childlike side of yourself that was likely buried beneath the hardships of adulthood and daily life, served by his Jupiter in Sagittarius, which is spontaneous, inspirational and enthusiastic. He encourages you to occasionally stop and appreciate who you are, where you've been, and all that you've become - something you often miss in your quest for being the absolute best version of yourself. Together you establish yourselves as a team, working in tandem with each other to reach higher in your respective fields and deepen your understanding of life and love through each other's shared perspectives. With Tae, you learn that the journey in itself can be just as beautiful as the destination and there is perfection in the present. Ultimately, this is a duo that can and will navigate life's ups and down efficiently with confidence in each other and a tenacity, strength and care that is almost unmatched by any other astrological pairing. 

[angstalottle]

Soulmate

I got @cantijustwish for the langst exchange, hope you like it

Everyone knew that finding your soulmate was both a blessing and a curse. After all it was only after the two first touch was it possible to feel. It was said that it was such a way so that a person could only truest experience life after they found their one true love. This is course was both a blessing and a curse, after all the same touch that will allow a person to feel a gentle hand caress their hair, is also the touch that will let them know the meaning of pain. Lance had grown up with stories from his mother how the pain was worth it, that nothing could cancel out the feelings of love that holding her husband and children brought her. Deep down Lance believed in love and longed for it, but as an accident prone child he also learnt to fear the possibility of falling in love with his soulmate and having to suffer because of it. But at 17 and now in space the possibility of actually finding his soulmate was slim to none. After all he had touched hands with all the members of the team and to his relief found that none of them were meant for him. Or so he thought. To say the mission had gone wrong was the understatement of the century. The paladins were playing diplomats in teams of two on separate planets. Keith and Lance had been placed together, Allura believing the two would work well to cancel out the others negative traits. The planet had welcomed the two with a ball and offered them both royal clothes of black silk pants and shirts with high collared capes in the colour of their respective armour colour. This meant that when the Galra attacked they were unarmed and lacked any way to call for backup. The first shot came so suddenly that Keith didn’t even realise it was coming until he was pushed out of the way and watching in horror as Lance crumbled to the ground blood seeping out from a wound in his shoulder. A wound that would have pierced Keith’s heart. Everyone began to scream and run as Galra soldiers stormed the room. With no other choice Keith pulled Lance to his feet throwing his good arm around his shoulders and ran towards the surrounding forest. As their hands made contact for the first time without Keith’s gloves a warmth spread through the red paladin. The smooth material of the clothes he wore. The softness of Lance’s hair tickling against his neck. The wetness of Lances blood dripping down his side. Lance however felt none of the warmth. Or the material, or Keith’s hair, or even the blood that made his arm slick. All he felt was pain. The white hot agony that engulfed his shoulder and seemed to jolt through him with every step. As the scream tore from his throat and darkness surrounded his vision a thought came to Lance’s mind and that was Keith. They ran into the dark cover of the trees not stopping until Lance’s legs finally gave out. Keith tried to pull him back to his feet but to no avail. Looking around frantically for some kind of cover Keith’s eyes fell upon a large tree with a rotted out indent in the base of its mighty trunk offering just enough room for him and Lance to squeeze inside out of view of their attackers.

Lance as since fallen silent, his breathing coming out in laboured puffs as his eyes were scrunched up in pain. His hand was covered in the sticky blood as he held his shoulder desperate for some kind of comfort.

The stench of blood hung heavily in the air as a puddle formed beneath Lance, Keith knew he had already lost too much… if he didnt do something soon Lance could die.

A lump formed in his throat as a fear he had not felt before settled in the back of his mind, he could lose his soul mate…

Shaking his head he got to work removing his shirt and ripping it into bandages before tieing them tightly, be it a little clumsily, over Lance’s wound.

Hearing the blue paladin cry out in pain as Keith secured the makeshift bandage was nothing more then awful.

“Im sorry…” Keith mumbled brushing Lance’s sweaty bangs out of his face.

A single blue eye opened up to look at him, it was watery and filled with pain “n...not your fault” Lance breathed out.

“How can you say that?!” Keith yelled “it's my fault you got hurt and it's my fault that you can feel the damage done to you!”

Keith didn't even realise he was crying until one of Lance’s hands shakily whipped away the tears.

Keith couldn't help but laugh as he placed his own hand over Lance’s. “Shouldn't i be the one comforting you?” Lance responded with a snort “Yeah well… looked like you needed it… mullet.” he teased quietly. Much too quietly.

Placing his free hand on Lance’s cheek Keith found it cold and clammy to the touch, even in the warm air he shivered and his skin had taken on a ashen grey quality to it.

Keith sighed “You've lost too much blood.”

Lance let out a low groan “yeah that sounds about right… how bad is it?”

Keith tried to swallow that lump in his throat but it stubbornly remained “i'd say we’re about a mile away from the palace and our armour, the others aren't due to pick us up for another two days and... “

“And i may not make it that long?” Lance asked doing his very best to hide his terror at the thought behind a confident smile “good thing i'm here with you then, Hunk would be a sobbing mess right about now.”

Keith smiled and before he could stop himself he leaned over and kissed Lance on the forehead “you don't have to worry about cheering me up, let someone worry about you for a change.”

The smile on Lance’s face faded away. He didn't say anything but when Keith tried to pull away he grabbed hold of his wrist and pulled him close.

That was how they spent the night.

Lance curled up against Keith’s chest shivering despite the heat that slowly began to come off him.

By the next morning Lance was burning with fever and no matter how hard Keith tried he just wouldn't wake up.

With no way to measure the growing temperature Keith could only watch and pray that it wasn't too high as he left Lance to go and try to find some water.

He only planned to be away a hour tops, but thanks to spotting a Galra patrol near the river, Keith had no choice but to take the long way back, meaning when he finally returned the sky was growing dark and Lance was convulsing on the floor.

The water was dropped and forgotten as Keith ran inside in a panic only to end up standing there helplessly.

There was so much blood sprayed across the floor and Keith knew he just knew Lance wasn't just going to bounce back from this.

Without having any other ideas he fell to his knees and began to sob.

Long and hard wails came from his throat in a way that he hasn't cried since he thought he lost Shiro all those months ago.

He was going to lose Lance

He was going to lose his soul mate.

Just as his cries reached their peak a loud raw came from above them.

Keith starred up as the Red lion descended through the trees above them.

Everything happened so quickly after that, Keith carried Lance into his lion and they raced back to the castle.

Keith didn't even slow down to explain to the others what he was doing back so early, he had to get Lance to a pods.

That was his mission, that was all he cared about.

Lance was in the pods for a week.

His fever was up to 106 and his wound was infected.

Keith didn't leave his side even for a moment.

Not even Shiro could get him to get some rest, nothing could pull him away from Lance, not now not ever.

Fairly early in the morning the pod hissed open and Lance fell out into Keith's waiting arms.

“Hey” Lance whispered.

“Hey” Keith replied “lance i-”

“Shut up” Lance cut him off as he pulled Keith into a kiss.

It was long and passionate leaving the two breathless when they finally pulled away.

“Wow… i… i never knew how amazing a kiss would feel” Lance laughed as Keith picked him up and spun him round.

“I always knew it would be amazing as long as it was with you...i...i love you Lance.”

Lance smiled at his soulmate “I love you too.”

[trainwreckweather]

8&24 (hospital+ soulmate AU) stella/scully

Prompt given by the lovely @viceversawrites (thank you! 💙)

******************

It's rare. They say it's like divine revelation. You feel everything, see everything. Taste, hear, know.

So many have chased the feeling to death. Scientists have tried to engineer the euphoria and intelligence in a pill for the richest of the rich.

But it's dangerous. And really, it doesn't compare.

In this day and age, it's a common folk tale. A myth. Taught in history classrooms, in literature too- oh, the sheer romance of it. Professors swoon at uninterested students snapping gum and looking bored.

They don't care about what doesn't concern them.The subject of soulmates is laughable to them.

Oh- oh it's real they say.

It's real, sure. No one will dispute that. It's happened before. Ordinary humans changed within an instant. No one knows why, or how. They don't know how a highschool dropout can communicate in every language known to man- dead and lost included, mere minutes after handing over a fast food receipt.

They're stronger, smarter, and more perceptive once they've met their soulmate. More compassionate too, it seems.

But the catch is, you have to touch the hand of your soulmate to see it all. To know.

Statistics are not in anyone's favor. You can say 'small world!’ all you want, but the population is up there, nearly 8 billion now. Take the seas into consideration, the miles separating city from rural lands, and the restless spirit of humans- it's harder than hitting the jackpot.

No one has time to go and touch the hand of every person they come across, though it's not uncommon to see small children, whimsical and hopeful glide along, giggling as they brush the hands of everyone they pass.

A children's schoolground game. There are nursery rhymes about it too, but Dana doesn't have her head in the clouds, doesn't pay any mind.

She isn't like the children and preteen girls singing and daydreaming of enlightenment and the truest, purest form of love.

She's a realist. She gets up, grooms, shoves half a bagel in her mouth, maybe burns herself with coffee on her commute to work.

People love, people marry, and she thinks she gets along just fine with the knowledge her brain holds now. She isn't interested in soulmates. It never even crosses her mind.

She thinks in numbers, hard facts, statistics. Diseases and treatments and dosages. Possible cures. The closest she's gotten to letting loose is whooping with the kids in her ward who've just gotten the best news of their lives yet. They can go home.

That's where she usually is, that's where she does her best work- The pediatric ward. She shakes all of her patients hands and (thankfully) not once did she feel any different than before.

Today is a changeup.  The ER is short staffed and her ward is quiet.

Dana reviews vitals, orders tests, transfers and medications to be administered. It's busier than she's used to but she adjusts to the fast paced rhythm like she does most things. She finds her groove and excels. Like a machine.

People feel bad for her. She doesn't date, she's buried in her work, too invested. She takes it home with her and reviews files, over and over. Tests theories, work things out in her head, this way and that. What is the best course of action for little Brian? If I proceed with this- he could have permanent nerve damage, if I risk it he may die.

Her nights are much like her days, blended and ordered and perfect. She's happy. She thinks she's happy at least. Who cares about what others see? Who cares about the ultimate human form? Who cares about love? She has everything she could ever want or need.

“Dr. Scully, ambulance is here in two. Car crash, 33 yr. old caucasian female, possible head injury.”

A nurse; his tag says Tommi. She thanks him.

Stella Gibson isn't happy about being here. Before she even pulls back the curtain, she can hear the complaints, a strained british lilt reaching her ears.

“It's barely a scratch! I'm fine. The ambulance was unnecessar-”

She enters and interrupts before things can escalate.

“Ms. Gibson! External injuries can oftentimes present in a manner that doesn't show us what's going on inside. I agree that you're probably alright. But I want to order an MRI and have you stay overnight for observation. Just to be on the safe side.”

“Stella,” she corrects with a steely gaze that leaves no room for argument. Dana nods once.

“Stella. Is that alright with you?”

Stella answers in the affirmative, but doesn't look to happy over her predicament.

She is fair haired, fair skinned and freckled, and has piercing baby blues. She's in need of stitches just above her left brow. Regardless, she's a strikingly beautiful woman, and something instinctual tells her to stay on Stella Gibson's good side.

And something primal, something she isn't used to, tells her to protect this woman at all costs.

She holds out her hand to this woman sitting upright and stiff on the hospital gurney. It's her standard practice. Doesn't think once about it, let alone twice.

Stella begins to say something in an almost sheepish tone, something about how she isn't used to driving in the U.S. - but it's cut off abruptly as soon as they make contact.

The textbooks- they don't prepare you for this. Dana is hit with a force so hard she nearly collapses- stumbles and gasps at the sensation. It's as if all of the earth's energy has funneled itself into this triage.

She feels it. Each and every atom. She can feel them feed off of each other, but it doesn't hurt. Why doesn't it hurt?

It's intense, so much so that she fears her bones will splinter, and that she'll fly apart, simply cease to exist as she was.

Dana doesn't realize what's happening, she can't make the connection. She can only feel. And see.

She sees a young towheaded toddler with unruly curls and crimson rain boots. Someone, her father, lifts her so she can pat the wet nose of a gelding. She feels the anticipation of the girl- part fear, part excitement. The same feeling is there when she views the girl on her back, no longer a girl and so sure that this is her ticket to womanhood. Only 17, but later she feels the sadness and regret. And the sting.

And the sting. Of the freezing rain pelting as her father's casket is lowered into the bitter dirt. Frozen. Frozen like her heart. Which she tries to melt with the burning of cigarette smoke and liquor and the flowing of warm blood and the heat of a quick fuck. It never quite works. Always something missing. Something to be filled.

Filled with University courses, with self confidence, with a uniform. There. Now there is purpose. Now there is wrong and right and she she stands firm on the right side of the line.

She leaves the country to get away from a Stalker, someone who she met once, fucked once, and that not even the law could get rid of. Like herpes.

She's trying to start over here in San Diego. It's different. It was her hope to permanently thaw the ice with this weather. She's working as a barista. She can barely afford her studio. Her car is wrecked. Still she's happier than she's been in a long while.

Happier now still.

As sudden as it starts, that's how it stops. The rushing in her ears is replaced with faint ringing. Dana is back now. To this room, to this body. She's shaking like a leave.

Adrenaline, her mind supplies.

Stella is wide eyed and opened mouth; their hands are clasped between them. This is when it hits her, what just happened.

“Dr. Scully?! Ms. Gibson?! Are you alright? Here, I have a chair.”  Someone is panicked and confused, but that someone is not her. It will never be her again.

She doesn't sit. She waves the nurse off as best she can. She still won't let go of Stella, can't take her eyes off of her.

That primal urge to protect is now reinforced and emphasized. She wouldn't have believed it before, if someone told her it was possible to fall in love in an instant. But really, how can can you call a lifetime an instant? She was there, she was there to see Stella's victories and her downfalls. She was right there with her, feeling what she felt, seeing all she's been through. It's incredible, the strength one person can possess. It's incredible what one can survive. She's never been so proud. She's never been so in love.

Too overwhelmed, they both start leaking tears, but they're smiling at each other, face splitting, opened mouth smiles. Dana can taste the salt on her tongue.

She laughs at the absurdity of today. If Stella had been more careful, if she was out sick, if the ward had needed her- all these ifs. Eight billion little ifs. She shakes it out of her head.

She knows things now. Not just Stella things. She could (and most likely will), cure cancer if given a quiet room and a day to herself.

But right here, right now, there are pressing matters to deal with. Such as making sure her soulmate (god, her soulmate) has nothing more than a gash and a mild concussion. After that- wow. What does one do after this?

Stella sniffs and squeezes her hand.

“I don't suppose you would mind if I asked you out to dinner...”

[smollchaotic]

Miraculous Ladybug au

Marinette and Adrien are soulmates

The average person normally has three different soulmates who can all be different stages. If one soulmate does work and you get your heartbroken by them the effects of the soulmate goes away and a new one appears. So you get three tries at true love. Although there is two powerfull type in which only have one soulmate only one chance at love some find it and some don't.

The different stages can be more powerful than others or more likely to happen or more rare to happen. Average is the norm like most people have that type of soulmate and they also easiers to find. Above average is less likely to happen than Average but more likely to happen than Powerfull. Having a soulmate with the strength Powerfull is very rare but can happen they say that it is the truest form of love.

Theres different stages to know soulmates (like the same birth mark or red string)

Stage 1(strength average): Would be the red string connecting to their pinkies which would never tangle but could break and it isonly seen by the soulmates(Like only mari and adrien would be able to see the string)

Stage 2(Strength above average): Would be sharing a birth mark in a unique shapes and they would never wash off or change they would be sorta like a tatoo and again only the two soulmates it effected would be able to see it

Stage 3(Strength Powerfull): The twin souls when they first became a soul zeus had feared their power so he split the soul in half creating twin souls which would have them sreaching for their other half until they found them. This type of soulmate their is only one of only one chance at true love some find it at an old age some find it in their teenage years some don't find it at all

Stage 4(strength powerful): Would be knowing at first sight and after they lay their eyes on each other they would know and if they were taken from one another one (like moved away or something) their eye would change color to the color of their soulmates. There is only one soulmate for this type.

Adrien and Marinette have Stage four soulmates.

Before Adriens mom passed away Marinette and him would often play together because their mothers were great friends from their high school. Although when they saw each other for the first time they were 5 therefor they did not know what love was so they did not know they first met. When Adriens mother died when he was age 6 from a horrid sickness his father kept him away from people who were less fortune and the dupain-chengs weren't poor but weren't rich either he saw it unfit for adrien to spend his free time with as he put it "We do not associate with the poor we are sophisticated". After they were taken from each other Marinettes left eye turned green and Adriens left eye turned blue. Doctors never knew what or how it happened since A stage four is so rare and most of the people have no idea of a stage four soulmate it was brushed off as a unknow case and they didn't do research into it since it never effected the children. Adrien join the oublic school in junoir year/11th grade. Althought they did meet as ladybug and chatnoir a year prier to that but not many people know about marinettes unique eye except her family alya,chloe,nino, and a few others(chloe and marinette are some what friends in this story), So when adrien meets Marinette he doesn't know it's his lady but marinette knows because he doesn't wear contact lens to cover his blue eye.

Tell me what you think about thisalso i wrote this at 2am so sry if some of it doesn't make sense -Pip

[goddamnitdazai]

Tally marks soulmate au for Dazai if that's okay?

soulmate au {closed} // 5. Tally Marks: (Not exactly a soulmate au, but close enough). When person A falls in love, a red tally shows up on their arm. If the person loves them back, it turns black, and if the person dies, it turns into a scar.{ Soulmate AU/Escort AU } { Escort!Dazai x Mafia!Reader } { NSFWish }   

               Blue, but not sky blue, dark blue—bottom of the ocean blue, witheringautumn succumbing to frost bitten wind and starless twilights blue. Red sheetswould just piss you off. The red of cliché passion, love, and adoration—besides dark bluelooked better underneath his chocolate locks sprawled out and messy (accordingto you). At first he presumed you were putting on a show for his sake. Neverlove the escort—never love the client. An unspoken agreement that didn’t needproper citation in any of the contracts piled high in his personal folder.Dazai never broke that rule (and he didn’t need to try either), but his patronswere another story. Blondes, brunettes, jet black hair and all toting bright, brighteyes. It didn’t matter how beautiful they looked, in his eyes they mirroreddollar signs.                Lavish cars, high-pricedsake tasting far too rich but delicious nonetheless; perfect dolls stacked in arow waiting for his touch to send them spiraling down.  His price went up as often as his age did;from a young boy of sixteen to a polished man with a silver tongue and skilledfingers to match he had become the highest priced escort in all of Yokohama.Socialites, politician’s wives and daughters bored out of their mind, groups ofgirls all pooling their money together for one single night with Dazai Osamu.                   He was never surprisednor taken back by the freshly manicured nails tugging at the skin of hisshoulders. Wine-stained lips begging for his attention, moaning sweetly likethe morning song of humming birds—“Oh,Dazai!”. As plain as red coated apples plucked from the very same tree—absolutely vapid .They recited his nameentirely too sweet for his truest of tastes, but this was a game of masks andcharisma. Often he would catch a glimpse of a slanted line of crimson hidden underheavily jeweled bracelets. The unmistakable curse of this twisted world, wherethere no secrets anymore? As if he couldn’t tell with their star crossed eyesand puckered lips each time he bid them good-bye.                   Falling in love wastoo damn boring; they were boring, vapid dollar signs.                   Tuesday, it wasraining in early October. Raindrops pounded the sidewalk and soaked thebrowning leaves clinging to life on reddened tree branches.  It was late, half an hour past the appointedtime. Dazai fiddled with his watch before pouring himself a glass of whisky.Amber liquid swirled against his tongue as he leaned against the window. Highabove the streets with the after-glow of sunset washing faded gold and pinkswirls over the water. Thirty-second floor, presidential suite—not bad. He’dbeen here once on the lower levels, some Port Mafia leader’s daughter borrowedhis time for an hour.                     The car was blackedout, windows tinted far too dark to be legal and headlights glowing off-white.Expensive, he thought, watching the figure escape from the car to the frontdoor quickly to avoid the rain. It took seven minutes from the front door tothe room. His glass was nearly empty, but Dazai fell abruptly into his role asa gentleman and a lover.                      “Care for a drinkmy sweet?” Dazai noted the way your eyes flickered over his thin form andpressed suit, but there was no spark behind those vivid, sharpened eyes. “Orwould you prefer a nice warm bath. You look exhausted.”                       “Anyone ever tellyou that you talk too much?”                        Buttons scattered over the floorbouncing on the tile and disappearing beneath the dresser. His hands couldn’tmove fast enough for your liking and his lip stung from your teeth. Somethingignited, but he presumed the ferocity of your kisses and unfiltered need toprevail over his dominate tendencies merely shot his adrenaline through theroof.  For a night he could playsubmissive, he thought, but that dream wound like sand through his fingers asthe night wore on.                          You baited him,pressed buttons he didn’t realize he had, pushed him to the edge and made himwant to jump head first. Sweat trickled between his shoulder blades, the markon his neck faded his vision and he saw galaxies burst to life as your nailsdug through his neck. Riding this high was nothing he’d ever experienced. Hecouldn’t help but comment how beautiful you looked underneath him; it was thetruth—but he loved how it made the grip on his neck tighten.                           It was weeks before you came back,off on business as you said, and it didn’t take long to figure out what that businesswas. Port Mafia—executive—murderer. He didn’t care, but he often wondered whysomeone with your looks and money would even think about paying for attention.Once every few weeks became weekly, then twice a week, and then every night youcould muster. A revolving door of cash to him from you, from him to dinnerdates and yachts and high-priced love hotels catering to even the darkest ofdesires.  Why bother with talking whengetting rough between the sheets was the all the connection needed?                          Until it wasn’tenough.                          Dazai glared atthe red mark on his wrist as if it was trying to kill him head on. He hadn’tnotice at first between the scratches and bites left so consistently on hisbody. He ignored the feeling of dread each time a patron that wasn’t youtouched his skin, called him their lover, begged for his hands on their body.Hot showers weren’t enough to scratch away the dirt and grime and thatdisgusting smell of perfume clinging to his hair. His phone felt heavy in hishand; his throat constricts as he dials.                        “Are you lonely?”                         Dark blue sheetssweat slicked, messy. His hands roam your stomach and the scar over your hipfrom a childhood of darkness written in blood. Winter surrounds the city andfalling snow encases sidewalks and streets and windows iced with frost. You’venever worn a bracelet before, it’s new and sparkles much brighter than themoon. Curiosity arches a single brunette brow as he traces the pattern of whitegold over your wrist. Hips grind; his back arches.  He doesn’t have to open his eyes to know thatcocky smirk is gracing your bruised lips. The pad of his finger traces a singleblack line beneath gleaming gems; an identical match to the one beneath hisbandages.                         “____,” Dazai teases as hiships grind upwards, “you’re looking at me like you’re in love~”. Hiddendesperation laced in conscious avoidance. Stardust twinkles beneath yourfluttering lashes before your eyes roll.                        “You talk toomuch.”

[adiamondsrae]

🤍This is literally me since I found out you can actually be with someone you love forever and after . Marriage was/is possible . I don’t frankly give a damn how long it takes...I will get the love I deserve&destined for me...that forever ♾ love...not love that is destructive, unlasting, unfulfilling&so painful. The truest form of a connection...that “when you know...you just know type love.” I won’t settle until I get it. I won’t settle for men who are too scared of love...men who need to be saved&when you try to save them they turn on you for the worse...men who are scared of commitment/game play with true emotions...straight up users. No more forced lukewarm mediocre connections . I know my soul mate is out there... until we meet I’ll place my good energy elsewhere . I will still dream of them, whoever they are, whoever they could be, what it could feel like to kiss them&hold their hands, manifest it on a deep level, until that beautiful miracle finally happens . Enough struggle...enough heartbreak...enough “almost nearly had it” love...dead end...love relationships/connections . Until we meet soul mate...I patiently wait&wish upon a star for you...My heart has waited for them probably since out my Mom’s womb...I can feel that like nothing else. John and Mary Winchester Love goals and above all...a true beautiful love like my Grandparents 🤍—->❤️💯🙏🏽✨💎✨ That would be the biggest dream...wish...come true...it’s my heart’s permanent desire until it’s been filled . Those who aren’t him...my soulmate, will only be a friend or less . I rather not waste time&patiently wait for the person I’m destined for...not looking for “time fillers”...just friendship...til my soul mate...as they say you know when you know&vice versa ! IF you are him I’ll know in my whole being that’s it’s true . If not thank ya for the friendship . #BlackGirlsLoveHorrorToo #BGLHT #Melanin #BlackGirlMagic #Cosplay #Horror #Halloween #HalloweenIsYearRound #HorrorMovies #Scary #Creepy #Dark #HorrorFan #Movie #Gore #Goth #HorrorMovie #Blood #Film #HorrorArt #RelationshipGoals #MaryAndJohnWinchester #TrueLove #HorrorGirls #HalloweenMemes #Movies #Makeup #Terror #HorrorFilm #Spooky https://www.instagram.com/p/B6zy7g4FbG1/?igshid=1e5bufeevzwa6

[gloieee]

Loss/ Lost/ Losing

I’ve been thinking about losing lately. I feel as though I’ve experienced a bit of all these things lately—a mix of loss, being lost, losing.  

My visit to Korea this summer was brief—a mere 17 day stay after 7 months in Boston. Coming out of a pretty low-key turbulent summer, it was a much needed escape. Although my thoughts followed me to Korea and plagued me in their own way, it was truly lovely to be home, physically away from the place that is so associated to my reality. It is odd though—I call Korea home, but it is a different kind of home now. It’s where my parents, my family lives, where I can feel the peace and comfort of my roots, yet the reason I can find peace and comfort there is particularly because it is no longer truly my reality (and in turn, perhaps not my true home anymore). It is a place of the past, and hence an always stagnant place—I don’t have the burden of moving forward, of growing, of learning in Korea. It is where I pause, where I can reflect, where I can take a break before returning to my present, to my reality. Where things carry weight. In that way, Boston has become my home, where I have to fight my demons, where I have to grapple and live with my decisions, with myself.

It is perhaps for this reason that this time in Korea, for the first time, I was not averse to the idea of perhaps returning there for the long term. It is ironic, because I feel okay with the idea now that I’ve decided that I will try to not be there after I graduate (or maybe, it is particularly for that reason that I feel okay with it). In my mind, Korea is no longer a reality, and fantasy is always easier and so much rosier. 

Anyway, of loss. My mac air broke for no reason at all a few days before I returned to school. It was a completely unexpected happening. I lost all of my data from my most formative years of college—starting from fall of my sophomore year to now. Losing schoolwork, even resumes and applications was (annoying but) fine, but losing photos and journal entries and writings sent pangs to my chest. The past few years—except maybe with the exception of this spring—I’ve written in times of pain, of confusion. I felt as though I had lost all of these experiences. It was as if they had never happened, because the specific emotions—what triggered them, how I felt, how I (tried to) worked through them—were gone. You are usually only left with impressions of past events, and they tend to be quite simple—you remember the blissful good moments and the painful--and often biased in ways you would hope they wouldn’t be.

When I look back on these lost memories, this lost time, except for this spring, I don’t think I really remember a time when I wasn’t somewhat “plagued” by certain emotions. The imagery I am struck with is a somewhat worn, wet washcloth—perhaps used to wipe down wooden tables—being twisted and firmly squeezed, dark (but not too dark) trickles of water seeping through the cloth. I’m not sure how I feel about this image, but I think it is how I feel at the moment.

As usual, Summer Salt captures it well for me.

It’s been a long year As far as I can see. I could use a vacation, But I gotta take care of my family.

And still I don’t know why I’m always putting up a fight When I’m so damn tired From working all the time.

It is strange—if most of my writings were written in periods when I felt squeezed and twisted to no end, why is it so hard for me to deal with the loss of these memories?

I’ve always been terribly scared of repeating the same mistakes. I usually never regret any of my actions, usually because I think through my tentative action to paralysis, until I feel as though I’m making the truest decision in the moment. Hence, I’m able to live with my mistakes—I know that they were inevitable in the moment. I always want to learn from what I’ve done, learn from the pain, try to make sense (as best as I can) as to what has happened. There seems to be nothing more foolish to me than repeating the same mistake, because then, it becomes habit, it becomes me. I think I am scared that by forgetting, I will revert to myself, whatever drove me to make these mistakes. It is hard, because in the moment I must have been pursuing happiness. It is not as if I ever want to purposefully be unhappy. My desire to fall, my vertigo isn’t quite as fucked up.

Anyone whose goal is ‘something higher’ must expect someday to suffer vertigo. What is vertigo? Fear of falling? No, Vertigo is something other than fear of falling. It is the voice of the emptiness below us which tempts and lures us, it is the desire to fall, against which, terrified, we defend ourselves.

That’s why it feels all the more dangerous to me. I feel as though I can’t trust my happiness. Yet at the same time, I really don’t know why I’m always putting up a fight. This goes multiple ways—I don’t know why I’m always fighting what I want when it makes me so damn tired to do so; I don’t know why I’m fighting for things that make so damn tired, feel like I’m working all the time for them, that squeezes everything out of me.

Self Control. I’ve rediscovered this song recently. I direly feel as though I need self control lately. But it takes so much out of me. I listen to this song on repeat, perhaps in the hopes that I can convince myself to practice it, perhaps to bemoan my lack of it, but of course, it seems as though Frank is equally as confused.

You cut your hair but you used to live a blonded life Wish I was there, wish we’d grown up on the same advice And our time was right I came to visit 'cause you see me like a UFO That’s like never, 'cause I made you use your self control And you made me lose my self control, my self control

I, I, I Know you gotta leave, leave, leave Take down some summer time Give up, just tonight, night, night I, I, I Know you got someone comin’ You’re spitting game, oh you got it

Pretty Girls speaks to the wallowing feeling of becoming a cliché. (Although I suppose, it does make me ~pretty~ at least)

Pretty girls They never deal with sadness well And never think about their joys That’s why they need ugly boys

Occasionally, I come across a song by a totally unknown, third rate artist with questionable lyrics that I randomly become obsessed with. 2 years ago, it was Soulja King- Girls Like Beyonce and Drake (who still returns zero results on any google search I’ve attempted) and this summer it was Rendezvous at Two- F*ck me & Feed me. There is something so soothing about the utter simplicity of the lyrics, the casualness of the &, the cute censoring of f*ck, that makes it such an innocent endeavor. There are no consequences to these base desires, and I can only dream that its the same for me, with a chuckle, knowing damn well that it isn’t.

I’ve been listening to Drake- Jungle again, which I don’t think is a good sign. I haven’t really listened to it since my leave sophomore year, and I hate why I’m probably back in this state.

These days, I’m lettin’ God handle all things above me The things I can’t change are the reasons you love me Still findin’ myself, let alone a soulmate, I’m just sayin’

She said you’re my everything I love you through everything, I done did everything to her She forgave me for everything, this a forever thing Hate that I treat it like it’s a whatever thing

Are we still good? Are we still good? If I need to talk, are you around? Are you down for the cause? Are you down? Are you down? Are you down?

Things feel heavy. I feel lost. But I console myself that maybe it doesn’t really have to be. A part of me feels like I just need to accept myself to a certain degree. As my mother says, I need to stop trying to maintain some kind of dignity (although I doubt this is the way she would hope for me to take her advice). I feel as though I do try to be so polite most of the time, and it sickens me sometimes. I really do need to let God handle all things above me perhaps, and I just need to go with it. As Summer Salt says in the same song: 

If I can’t stay out of trouble, it may be the death of me, But I was branded as a whole 'nother rebel With a tattoo at fifteen.

If I can’t get into heaven, I best be revvin’ my CJ7. Now ain’t that the life. Now ain’t that the life That keeps rolling me by

Despite the heaviness, there are moments when I feel like I do see a gap in the clouds. It’s brief, but staying up all night with myself, sitting alone by the Charles amongst young college trysts, staggering through the darkness like the fooliest of fools that I am, I become a little more lenient. Life’s what you make it, and maybe its just a cycle of losing memories, being lost, and taking Ls. I want to make it as myself, with myself, and I’ll keep trying.  

Oooh, all this time I was just running around A beautiful mind between those eyes I wasn’t looking, but oh I found A gap in the clouds, the sun comes out We’ll stay up all night make you feel alright Oh life, oh life

Oh my dear, don’t be afraid Oh my heart, speak up And it could come back to life someday Who really knows the truth Life’s what you make it And I wanna make it with you Oh you, oh you, ohh

9.03.2017

[marcusssanderson]

50 Sibling Quotes Celebrating Brothers and Sisters

Our latest collection of sibling quotes on Everyday Power blog.

The sibling relationship is one of the most enduring in life. A sibling bond is powerful and important not only in childhood but over the course of a lifetime.

The relationship with your brothers and sisters may not always be easy. Sometimes your siblings will stir up emotions you don’t like. But despite the highs and lows, siblings are a joy and a blessing.

Your siblings will usually be the most likely people to feel your pain when you are at your lowest and rejoice when you rejoice. So creating a fulfilling relationship with them is so important.

Though it can be complex, the bond with our brothers and sisters is often the longest-lasting. To celebrate it, below is our collection of inspirational, sweet, and loving sibling quotes, sibling sayings, and sibling proverbs, collected from a variety of sources over the years.

Sibling quotes celebrating brothers and sisters

1.) ”The mildest, drowsiest sister has been known to turn tiger if her sibling is in trouble.” – Clara Ortega

2.) ”Our siblings push buttons that cast us in roles we felt sure we had let go of long ago – the baby, the peacekeeper, the caretaker, the avoider…It doesn’t seem to matter how much time has elapsed or how far we’ve traveled.” – Jane Mersky Leder

3.) ”Brother and sister, together as friends, ready to face whatever life sends. Joy and laughter or tears and strife, holding hands tightly as we dance through life.” – Suzie Huitt

4.) ”Children of the same family, the same blood, with the same first associations and habits, have some means of enjoyment in their power, which no subsequent connections can supply.” – Jane Austen

5.) ”Brothers and sisters can say things to one another that no one else can.” – Gregory E. Lang

6.) ”They say that no matter how old you become, when you are with your siblings, you revert back to childhood.” – Karen White

7.) ”A bond as important as that of a husband and wife, is the bond between siblings.” – Lee Dong-Wook

8.) ”Sibling relationships…outlast marriages, survive the death of parents, resurface after quarrels that would sink any friendship. They flourish in a thousand incarnations of closeness and distance, warmth, loyalty and distrust.” – Erica E. Goode

9.) ”Be nice to your siblings, they’re your best link to your past and the most likely to stay with you in the future.” – Baz Lurhmann

10.) ”Our brothers and sisters are there with us from the dawn of our personal stories to the inevitable dusk.” – Susan Scarf Merrell

Sibling quotes to celebrate an enduring bond

11.) ”A sibling may be the keeper of one’s identity, the only person with the keys to one’s unfettered, more fundamental self.” – Marian Sandmaier

12.) ”Having lots of siblings is like having built-in best friends.” – Kim Kardashian

13.) ”Siblings are the people we practice on, the people who teach us about fairness and cooperation and kindness and caring – quite often the hard way.” – Pamela Dugdale

14.) ”Brothers and sisters are as close as hands and feet.” – Vietnamese Proverb

15.) ”There’s no other love like the love for a brother. There’s no other love like the love from a brother.” – Terri Guillemets

16.) ”If you have a brother or sister, tell them you love them every day-that’s the most beautiful thing. I told my sister how much I loved her every day. That’s the only reason I’m OK right now.” – Amaury Nolasco

17.) ”Sweet is the voice of a sister in the season of sorrow, and wise is the counsel of those who love us.” – Benjamin Disraeli

18.) ”Whatever you do they will love you; even if they don’t love you they are connected to you till you die. You can be boring and tedious with sisters, whereas you have to put on a good face with friends.” – Deborah Moggach

19.)” Power, that’s one thing, but love of family and of siblings is more important, is more powerful than any other power – at least earthly power, at least earthly power.” – Sander Levin

20.)” To have a loving relationship with a sister is not simply to have a buddy or a confident… it is to have a soulmate for life.” – Victoria Secunda

Sibling quotes celebrating a long-lasting relationship

21.) ”Sisters and brothers are the truest, purest forms of love, family and friendship, knowing when to hold you and when to challenge you, but always being a part of you.” – Carol Ann Albright Eastman

22.) ”A sister is someone, who loves you from the heart. No matter how much you argue, you cannot be drawn apart.” – Shiv Sharma

23.) ”My sister accommodates me, never reproaches me with her doctrine, never tries to change me. She accepts and loves me, despite our differences.” – Joy Harjo

24.) ”The greatest gift our parents ever gave us was each other.” – Unknown

25.) ”I can’t promise to solve all your problems, but I can promise you won’t have to face them alone.” – Unknown

26.) ”When sisters stand shoulder to shoulder, who stands a chance against us?” – Pam Brown

27.) “As we grew up, my brothers acted like they didn’t care, but I always knew they looked out for me and were there.” – Catherine Pulsifer

28.) ”Brothers are like streetlights along the road, they don’t make distance any shorter but they light up the path and make the walk worthwhile.” – Unknown

29.) ”Our paths may change as life goes along, but the bond between us remains ever strong, my dear brother.” – Unknown

30.) ”The highlight of my childhood was making my brother laugh so hard that food came out his nose.” – Garrison

Sibling quotes in honor of a special bond

31.) ”Because brothers don’t let each other wander in the dark alone.” – Jolene Perry

32.) ”I, who have no sisters or brothers, look with some degree of innocent envy on those who may be said to be born to friends.” – Kames Boswell

33.) ”My sister and I are so close that we finish each other’s sentences and often wonder whose memories belong to whom.” – Shannon Celebi

34.) ”Being his real brother I could feel I live in his shadows, but I never have and I do not now. I live in his glow.” – Michael Morpurgo

35.) ”The best thing about having a sister was that I always had a friend.” – Cali Rae Turner

36.) “Is solace anywhere more comforting than in the arms of a sister.” – Alice Walker

37.) ”There is a little boy inside the man who is my brother… Oh, how I hated that little boy. And how I love him too.”  – Anna Quindlen

38.) ”Half the time when brothers wrestle, it’s just an excuse to hug each other.” – James Patterson

39.) ”Blessed is the servant who loves his brother as much when he is sick and useless as when he is well and can be of service to him. And blessed is he who loves his brother as well when he is a far off as when he is by his side, and who would say nothing behind his back he might not, in love, say before his face.” – St Francis of Assisi

40.) ”A sibling may be the keeper of one’s identity, the only person with the keys to one’s unfettered, more fundamental self.” – Marian Sandmaier

More sibling quotes to inspire and teach

41.) ”Sometimes Being a Brother Is Even Better Than Being a Superhero.” – Marc Brown

42.) ”It takes two men to make one brother.” – Israel Zangwill

43.) ”Brothers don’t necessarily have to say anything to each other – they can sit in a room and be together and just be completely comfortable with each other.” – Leonardo DiCaprio

44.)” My siblings are my best friends.”  – America Ferrera

45.) ”If you want to know how your girl will treat you after marriage, just listen to her talking to her little brother.” – Sam Levenson

46.) ”Help your brother’s boat across, and your own will reach the shore.” – Hindu Proverb

47.) ”Sisters function as safety nets in a chaotic world simply by being there for each other.”  – Carol Saline

48.) ”Not only had my brother disappeared, but―and bear with me here―a part of my very being had gone with him. Stories about us could, from them on, be told from only one perspective. Memories could be told but not shared.”  – John Corey Whaley

49.) ”Having a sister is like having a best friend you can’t get rid of. You know whatever you do, they’ll still be there.” – Amy Li

50.) ”There is a destiny which makes us brothers; none goes his way alone. All that we send into the lives of others comes back into our own.” – Edwin Markham

Did you enjoy these sibling quotes?

The relationship with our brothers and sisters is one of the most important in our lives. Although it can sometimes be complex, the sibling bond is one of the most enduring.

The bond between brothers and sisters is unlike any other. Hopefully, the above quotes will help you celebrate this special relationship.

Which of these sibling quotes resonated with you best? Do you have any other favorite quotes to add to the list? Tell us in the comment section below. We would love to hear all about it.

The post 50 Sibling Quotes Celebrating Brothers and Sisters appeared first on Everyday Power Blog.

[reversecentaur]

OH FUCKIN SPEAKING OF WHICH

so the queer british art exhibition at the the tate britain! it was great. it had all the classics. radclyffe hall, dora carrington, oscar wilde, francis bacon (my first and truest art love)

ramblepost under the cut

it was deeply moving, and gave me a massive amount of perspective on oppression in our own, modern lives. i learnt that radclyffe hall went by ‘john’ and thought about the idea that she might have been a trans man. i then considered the history of being a woman in love with a woman, of being a lesbian, of being a Butch, and the fact that we simply did not have names for these ideas yet. there was no community to speak of, any time we brought up these feelings and ideas we would be prosecuted,persecuted, silenced. i learnt about little communities of creatives, of writers and painters and actors and stage designers who just… loved one another. sometimes trans women were only discovered to be trans after their death. they were often married, but they loved each other freely. they were each others’ beards and first loves and last loves and muses and fuckbuddies and soulmates. they sometimes were two women living as a man called michael field, and they were accepted by their fellows in a way that still boggles my brain a little now.

as nebulous and problematic as the word ‘queer’ is, it’s the only word that truly binds the experiences of these people when we look back at them. whoever they were and however they identified, they were odd, separate from society - either ostracised or self-exiled. i understand why people don’t like the word queer, i understand the difficulties placing people under this “queer umbrella” when they don’t obviously consent. but that’s why history is weird. can we really say sappho was a lesbian? she loved women, that much is obvious. but the word lesbian has modern connotations, a whole culture around it now that just wouldn’t have been. in this same way, can we call these people “queer”? how do we show their experience was different from their contemporaries’ without forcing a modern identity on them?

at the end there was a section where you could write your thoughts on pieces of card, and so many of these cards were thoughtful and funny and moving. little doodles and quotes and observations. talking about how this space made them feel less alone, how it made them feel proud, how there needed to be more butts, how it gave them an insight to their own identity and sexuality and gender. i wrote one that was a condensed version of my above paragraph.

then there was one stating that they don’t get why we make a big deal out of sexuality. this was a paid exhibition. you can get in if you’re a member, or if you buy a ticket. this person went through this queer art history show in which people were shown deliberately eschewing labels, daring only to love and live outside what their society deemed acceptable and decent. and all they took from it is how labels divide us and we’re all the human race and where’s the straight art history exhibition.

also someone bemoaning the lack of ace representation, again. like i don’t even wanna get into it beyond “words for ideas lived and breathed, but not fully formed as of yet”  i’m just pissed at that.

[nightships]

Like Rum on the Fire

Look familiar? This is an update to a fic I wrote in 2015. I re-read it the other night, loved it, and found things I wanted to tidy up. Read on AO3 here.

There’s a moment when the ship leaves Neverland in the distance behind them — a second when he crosses into safe seas and out of reach of Pan and his ever-growing handful of lost little children — where Killian Jones feels hope creeping up his spine. It’s not a bright thing, as the promise of finally finding the Crocodile is still steeped in months of searching once he leaves this place, but it’s more than he’s had in the last century. That, and he’s looking forward to leaving the bloody sweltering jungle for more than a couple nights on end.

(Finding himself so close to the lost boys’ camp on the island had been a dangerous accident, especially when he heard them whispering about the boy ruler of the island as they patrolled the beaches. Relief had flooded through him when he’d realized they were unaware of their shadow; the more he overheard from them without making himself known, the better.

Most of it was obvious. They were looking for him, of course. Terrorizing Captain Hook and his men was their favorite pastime. Less obvious were their plans to leave this realm and retrieve a child, a true believer. Pan never sounded more eager than he did when he spoke about the boy, about welcoming him home to this island and luring him into the comfort of their little tribe.

It was at the hushed mention of enchanted hearts that he forced himself to stop listening. The tattoo on his arm still stung, and memories of the woman he wore it for stung even deeper. Milah was his anchor, a reminder of what he was doing on this island in the first place — as if he ever forgot.

But then Pan’s voice turned sour. Mention of someone else, of a Savior, tore his attention away from the shadows of the boys in the firelight. Pan’s voice turned sour as he warned of someone who was rumored to be able to break the Curse, who could bring magic back, who could make it possible for them to find their Truest Believer — and by extension, Rumplestiltskin.

The Savior was his key to getting revenge, and it only took minutes to convince Pan he was the man for the job. It didn’t matter what he promised, so long as he could leave.)

Emma was supposed to be home by now, changed out of this dress she’s been tugging down her thighs all night and into her favorite pair of pajamas. The particularly charming bail skip she’s spent the night chasing down has made her late to her annual date with her Princess Bride DVD. Emma doesn’t linger on the wish that her world was more like the one Westley and Buttercup adventured through, especially given the night she’s just endured, but she does think a birthday girl deserves a little leeway. The cupcake her supervisor sent her home with seems like it’ll do the job just fine.

Emma toes the door shut with her heel before resolutely kicking the it into the back of her couch along with its partner. Sitting on the cushioned barstool at her kitchen counter has never felt so comfortable.

The quiet that surrounds her as she hums happy birthday to herself isn’t uncomfortable in the least. It’s familiar, she tells herself. Practically tradition.

(Never mind that she’d spent most of her early life reaching out and hoping she would feel something in the hands of the families who took her home. It wasn’t exactly the definition of true love she’d grown up hearing about, but it was the one her younger self had craved. True love didn’t mean a soulmate or romance to ten-year-old Emma. It meant a sure meal every night, an actual mattress to sleep on, someone who made her feel like she was welcome when she walked in the room.

And when she met Neal and grabbed at his wrist that first time, nothing  happened at all, but it didn’t matter then. She’d stopped waiting for true love a while ago.)

Emma closes her eyes to make the only wish she’s ever allowed herself since she got out of jail, but before she can take a breath, something topples to the floor in a far corner of her apartment. She can’t place the kind of noise it is, but she doesn’t question the hair raising on the back of her neck. Silently, she slides off the stool and reaches for the first blunt object her hands can find: the cast iron skillet in her drying rack.

It could just be a noise. It could be her neighbor. It could be any number of things, Emma supposes, but the warning feeling in her gut doesn’t just go off for nothing. She shifts her grip, grabbing the pan handle with both hands as she slides into the room and finds what she’s looking for in a heap on the floor near her bed, surrounded by broken glass from her window.

There’s a man in her room, too busy cursing under his own breath and swiping at a small cut on his cheek to notice her. He’s bent over at the waist, chest heaving like he’s just run a marathon, and his breaths sound so ragged that for a moment she simply stares.

Then, as if he can actually hear her thinking, blue eyes shoot up and strike lightning into hers. Before his expression can even change, Emma’s arm is swinging, and then he’s out cold on the floor. She spends another long moment catching her own breath and staring between him and the hole that used to be her window, eyes finally landing on the shiny metal hook at his wrist.

Why did she always attract the crazy ones?

The man starts to wake fully a minute or two after she’s handcuffed his leather-coated arm to the leg of her bed frame. He doesn’t realize it at first, pulling his hand away from its restraint as if to rub at the lump on his head, but eventually the cold metal slides and hits his skin. His head lolls down when he blinks at the metal attracted to his wrist. To her surprise, he only chuckles, as if this is a regular Tuesday night for him.

“I’ll admit, Swan, I’m impressed. I can count the number of people who have bested me on one hand.”

She bristles at that, changing him from burglar to stalker in her head when she hears her own name roll off of his tongue. He isn’t an old skip; she’s sure she would have remembered the way his eyes are piercing her now. Emma schools her face into one that shows no vulnerability, only impatience and authority, and meets his stare head-on.

“You’ve got sixty seconds to explain how the hell you know my name and how you found me.”

He falters a little, but only for a second. In a second he’s grinning at her in a way she might have found charming if she saw it out on the street instead of handcuffed to the foot of her bed.

”I’m not sure I can dutifully tell the tale in such a short span, lass.”

Emma considers this, abandoning her mental countdown. He’s hiding something under that rough, accented voice, but she’s too busy ignoring the way his eyes are trailing over her to linger on it. If there’s one thing she won’t do, it’s letting him see he has an advantage over her.

“I don’t really know how this kind of thing usually goes for you,“ she says, taking a half-step to the side in an attempt to prove just how ineffective his tactics are, "but you picked a really bad window to climb through. You can sit here and tell me who you are and how you got here,” she offers, “or you can sit here and wait while I call the cops.”

The unnamed man sighs wearily and considers her for a moment, resting his hook and his hand in his lap as he weighs the cost of replying.

“I doubt you’d believe me if I told you,” he says.

Emma searches for the lie tucked under his words. If it exists, she can’t see it, although it’s not for lack of looking. The curve of his hook glints as he shrugs, and then those blue eyes are on her again, begging her to ask him what he’s talking about. Despite her better judgment, it’s almost working.

"Why?” she finally asks him. “Because I don’t put much stock in liars?”

“Because you don’t know who you really are.”

If there’s a time to stop talking to him and go to the police, this is it. Bail bondsperson or no, she’s probably crazy not to have called the police yet, to have allowed him to distract her with stories as ridiculous as the outfit he’s wearing. It’s hard enough even looking at him when he sounds as serious as he does now. It occurs to her that he may not be the only one trying to get to her tonight, that he may not be working alone, and all of a sudden she’s feeling a little desperate herself.

“You’ll have plenty of time to tell me on the ride to the station,” Emma tells him, reaching down with the intention of cuffing his other, hooked wrist. Only now does she realize he’s been picking the damn cuffs with his hook.

Emma dives for his arms immediately, taking advantage of her position above him. His hooked arm swings up into her vision, sending her backwards down onto her knees. Adrenaline takes up residence in her veins for the third time tonight as she ducks to avoid his elbow, trying to stand herself up again without giving him room to knock her over.

It’s uncoordinated, not even a full-on fight. Had this been just another bail skip she was bringing in she might have even called it fun, given how he keeps rattling off little one-liners about good form and how he’d much prefer a woman on her back. In the end, it only takes a second for Emma to forget herself.

She means to swat him away, to create the distance she needs to think for a second and restrain him properly. What she does, though, is grab for his wrist where it waits protectively near his face. It’s that kind of recklessness that leads to her fingers brushing against the skin of his neck when she swipes at his collar. It’s why the backs of her knuckles skim the line of his throat. It’s why her nails brush along the stubble underneath his cheek as she grips onto the leather. It’s why she sees an actual static spark light up the room for a second as her skin meets his for the first time.

It’s completely silent in her bedroom now. He’s looking at her with wide, disbelieving eyes, and she can’t stop blinking over at him. Both of them are crouched together, frozen in the darkness of her bedroom, minds trying to accept what their bodies already know to be true.

“That was —”

“Shut up,” Emma hisses. Killian watches her scramble away from him, but he knows there’s nowhere to go. He can tell from the terrified look on her face that she knows exactly what’s just happened to them, that she knows what it means. True love.

For a second or two, it’s like he has a complete out-of-body experience. Something else must have happened, some kind of bizarre mistake, because there’s no way in all the realms that he could ever find this again. Not after Milah.

Killian knows two things about the woman he’s staring at right now: her name and what she’ll be capable of if she believes the story he came here to tell. Emma Swan meant blind hope before, but this is different. The certainty of knowing his happy ending lies with her changes everything.

Emma stares back at him, stiff with the sheer force of her own retreat. She can feel the future washing over her bones; even though she can’t see it yet, it’s the knowing that has her pushed against the wall.

Twenty-eight years of loneliness falls thin onto the carpet around her ankles as she stares at the dark-haired man in front of her, taking him in, at his full height. Certainty comes from nowhere within her chest, blooming as she meets his eyes in search again. Just like before, the lie isn’t there.

She doesn’t know how he manages to convince her, but by the end of the night Boston sits in her rearview and Killian sits in the passenger seat. Emma drives, hoping with everything she’s got that trusting someone won’t leave her empty this time.

(It doesn’t.)