#✧ ˚ · ━ ━ she has the moon in her mind / stars spill off her lips ( visage ) .

[dreamysnowangel444]

"She has the moon in her mind, that's why stars spill off of her lips" ⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚✧･

[echantedtoon]

Valtor x Reader Oneshot

A nightly visitor visits his lover once more.

The darkness of night was always dangerous to those whom did not heed the warnings of the monsters whom lurked within the abyss and shadows.

The woman knew that more than anyone else very well. Often finding herself confined within it's hold. Innocence ensnared like a bird within it's cage. Singing it's innocent melodies despite being condemned to be surrounded by cold iron bars. Forever ongoing. Swirling, swirling around 

The sun sank beneath the horizon to make way for his sister the moon to take her rightful place upon her throne of darkness surrounded by her army men of stars and comets. 'Cone out!' She cried out to her dark children that hid from the light. 'My brother and his infernal light is gone. Once more come out to greet your mother and wreck discord upon thine earth. Have your fun dancing in my gentle glow and bask in the darkness that I reign upon as I watch over you.' The monsters woul answer their mother's cries. Dancing. Reigning havoc over the darkness. Bringing entropy to every household they manage to invade. 

A fire warmed up the skin as your lazy eyes watched the dancing flames in the pit. The flickering lights casted dancing shadows the lonely still walls. They frolicked in tune with their own rythme in their own universe. However the warmth of the fire kept your body warm and toasted from the cold outside. No doubt crawling with monsters and demons of the abyss walking forth towards you with every step they took. In tune with every breath you took. But you didn't mind. Infact within the darkness the maiden embraced their outstretched embrace. 

Step. Step. Step.

Closer and closer.

Breaths of sins clawed their way from a maw that swallowed more innocent lives than the mind cared to remember. Smiling at a wicked whom remembered or a sinful taste that it could still taste on the malicious tongue. Running the muscle along fangs sharp and destined to rip magic from mere soul. However the sins of that life would be forgotten in exchange for the comfort of innocence that the night allowed him to have once every moon. Footsteps soft yet loud enough to echo through the darkness and approaching fast the house with remaining light. Light that offered warmth and comfort but not protection.

F/c eyes opened slightly and turned. A door normally provided comfort and protection was no match for the class that ensnared it and pushed it open allowing the night and shadows to spill inside. The sinful, wicked smile was delighted to see the one of innocent happiness smiling back to her.

"Well now. Hello, Beautiful.~ Do you mind if I come in and warm myself by your fire?"

A giggle all too sincere made the monster's undead heart beat against his own ribcage in anticipation of her answer.

"Come right in, Sir. Heaven knows how cold the night must be for you."

The monster did not hesitate given the permission. Coming inside to receive his reward for the sinful deeds he had done in the form of an embrace of the warmth she gave. The embodiment of darkness was enticing to say the least. Especially with herself entangled within his grip. It felt...

c o l d.

So cold, so frightening. Yet so familiar. The blood ran cold yet so warm upon the strong arms around her. Eyes deeply staring through the soul wriggling, squirming in its hold. Gleaming  teeth beside the eyes in a smile that was promising sin yet a love no one else gave. There for her, the one caught up into the grip of the night. the only thing they could do for them was finish them off — even if it was they who would have to suffer then.

"It's been far too long. You have no idea what you do to me. Making me feel things a sinner like me has no right being happy to have."

Neither spoke for a long moment just staring into each other's eyes before a cold hand reached out to run his knuckles along her chin causing her to shiver before leaning into that hand that switched to caressing the soft warm flesh. A strong arm pulled her forward until they were chest to chest. His sinful freeze and her innocent warm glow. A sturdy arm held her close, the other cracked the back of her head gently as worlds apart connected in the ultimate declaration of affection between two partners.

Lines were blurring. Obsession with love. Madness within clarity. Starvation of touch with longing of burning loneliness. Passion and poison. Breaths were warm despite his cold body. Eyes soft despite their own desire filled look. Grip firm but restrained so much it hurts him how cautious he was being to not harm. Her soft skin burnt him! It burnt, it burnt-

It lit up his soul with unresolved longing he was never able to fulfill like this with anything else in his life.

He pulled her closer deepening the connection for a blissful moment before slowly pulling away just a smidge. Their lips still touching as warm breath gently caressed his face as his dark eyes looked back in narrowing into possessive slits. Words whispered against lips as he spoke.

"You really shouldn't really be letting me come back over and over. It's addicting... Intoxicating to me to not have you right where I need you. My mind clears when you are the only thing it can think about."

A shiver ran over her body so close and it sent a smile against her lips from him. It pleased him so.

"Maybe I like it when you only think about me though. Would you really leave me even if I were to dismiss you?"

Whispered murmurs against lips. Close as lovers could ever be. Arms around each other's bodies like a whirlwind would pull them away. Eyes closing with one last murmur against her lips.

"No. But I don't mind if you took my body and soul because you already have my sanity. Now love me. Love me like I'm going to die."

[cricketnationrise]

Congratulations 🎉 500 followers is amazing!! Lots of people out there with good taste 😉

My prompt:

2205

Catherine

Backyard of the Austin farmhouse

Into the Mystic

okay gonna be honest here. i have no idea what happened here. like, i really adore what i wrote, but i have NO EARTHLY IDEA where it came from or if it's even at all close to what you were aiming for. lots of catherine/arthur feels ahead and like, a little magical realism? i guess? anyway here's wonderwall...

read the rest of the ficlets here

❤️🤍💙❤️🤍💙

10:05pm, texas farmhouse

It’s odd, really, that an ocean and half a continent away from their shared home, that Arthur’s spirit feels so strong here. Here, in Henry and Alex’s backyard, deep in the heart of Texas.

The boys—they’re still boys, no matter that they’re closer to forty than thirty—are inside, cleaning dishes, rinsing out bottles. Catherine can see them through the window above the sink, laughing and chatting easily before Alex flicks water in her son’s face. The affronted look on Henry’s face sends her right down memory lane, a slideshow of the dozens of times she and Arthur did the same thing playing in her mind.

It took a while, a shove from Bea, and a lot of therapy, but the memories no longer hurt her, no longer make her feel like her soul is being ripped away every time she thinks about her husband. Now, after everything, she can let the memories pass through like a draft through windchimes; she might get knocked around, but what sweet melodies they make.

A cool breeze makes Catherine pull the quilt Alex draped over her earlier closer around her shoulders and she looks out over the dark backyard. The only light is from the stars, the crescent moon, the dying embers, and the occasional lightning bug. Catherine inhales deeply, breathing in the smell of the earth, of burning wood, of the lingering scent of the beer that Alex knocked off the picnic table earlier. The sound of crickets chirping is accompanied by grass rustling in the breeze and the quiet pops of the fire. It’s peaceful here, in this place where there’s more sky than anything else—a sky big enough for dreams and memories alike.

Arthur would have loved it here. He would have been first in line to learn how to work the grill from Alex. He would have laughed easily at their son’s carefree antics. He would have been their biggest supporter in buying this place. Catherine knows that their siblings were confused, Alex’s parents were a little more understanding, but Arthur— Arthur would have seen the house for what it is: a sanctuary, a place to recharge, a place where they can truly be themselves, stripped of the pressures of both royalty and politics.

She knows that they chose Texas for Alex, but the feel of the place has more than a little to do with Henry; Catherine finds echoes of the cottage in Wales around every corner. The farmhouse is a monument to the love they have for each other and to their families. The house is so full of affection and care that one could almost taste them, almost trip over them on the way to the kettle. 

Another breeze sweeps through the yard and Catherine shivers, but not from the chill this time. She can feel something—someone—here with her now. She gets a whiff of Arthur’s cologne, a faint trace of pine and leather that always made her feel safe. She holds her breath, and she can faintly hear Arthur’s laugh, bright and full, over the sound of her heartbeat. Impossibly, she feels the weight of an arm across her shoulders, tucking her close into the faded imprint of a warm chest.

The back door opens and the boys’ chatter spills out along with the kitchen light. Their presence breaks the spell the night was weaving around her, but between more jokes and reminiscing, between dessert and a cup of decaf, Catherine feels ghostly fingers slip between her own, and hold tight.

[allfortzu]

i'll carry the moon and stars, i'll carry you and me

-- jihyo / tzuyu. 1.4k - light angst, fluff - hurt/comfort, light mentions of blood // MEN DNI.

tzuyu goes home to jihyo.

it’s late at night and pouring outside, a constant static of crashing cascades instead of rhythmic patters. 

jihyo still finds it calming, though. there’s always been something about the simultaneous state of disarray and comforting orderliness that came with storms and thunder. 

it also meant she had an excuse to curl up under a blanket and watch every movie she’d been neglecting. not that she needed one, but it was always nice to have. 

a little mundane for a detective, maybe, but some mundanity has always been needed to balance out a life like hers. 

peace in chaos, if you will. 

comforting orderliness in states of disarray. 

so, jihyo picks out her most comfortable pyjamas, and makes the best cup of tea she knows how to make – which only consists of choosing the most expensive brand of tea she has and actually boiling water instead of microwaving, but such is life. 

she’s still humming and waiting for the kettle to sound when her doorbell rings, a barely discernible ding in the storm. 

she pads her way from her kitchen to the living room, right up the entrance of her house. it’s too dark outside to see anything through the peephole, so she opens the slightest crack in her blinds.

the light from inside spills out, and the outline of a familiar figure is illuminated. 

jihyo opens the door instantly. instinctual, immediate. 

“tzuyu?” 

tzuyu looks up at the sound, and jihyo’s chest tightens. 

her cheeks are smeared with blood, gaze weak and lidded. her suit is ripped and there’s splashes of dirt and more blood over her usually stark white button up. everything is drenched in the downpour. her clothes drip with rain. 

tzuyu’s voice is painfully soft. 

she opens her mouth but nothing comes out, the rain drowning out every syllable. 

but jihyo hears her clearly. 

she knows when tzuyu says –

“jihyo unnie.”

jihyo’s heart shatters. 

she wants to tug tzuyu in by the wrist and ask her every question in her mind – what happened, are you okay, who did this – but tzuyu takes a single step in, and she loses all strength. 

“tzuyu!” 

jihyo surges forward; without thinking, without hesitance. 

tzuyu falls right into her arms. 

boneless, completely weak.

the rain from her clothes soak through jihyo’s pyjamas, she’s piercingly cold to the touch. jihyo feels her tremble, meek and shivering. every breath she takes comes out shakily, every exhale barely there.

jihyo’s never realised just how small tzuyu is, finding solace in her arms. 

it hurts terribly to see.

maybe it’s the adrenaline, or pure determination – but jihyo hoists tzuyu up with everything she has, carries her unfalteringly until they reach her shower. 

she sets tzuyu down and hurriedly pushes her damp blazer off; clenches her teeth at the sight of more blood revealed on the sleeves of tzuyu's white shirt. 

"who the hell did this, tzu?" jihyo seethes, pulling a towel off the rack and wrapping tzuyu up. "what happened?" 

"i don't know…" tzuyu says weakly, clutching at the towel and curling into herself for warmth. "some other gang– " 

then, softer; shakier, "sorry… you– you were the only person i could think of."

jihyo pulls tzuyu into her arms as tight as she's able to, presses tzuyu into her shoulder, cheek to temple. 

she's still worried sick, but at least tzuyu's conscious and speaking. 

at least tzuyu's here with her. 

"are you hurt anywhere?" jihyo's voice cracks, pained. she lifts tzuyu's head gently to cup her face, caressing a thumb over her cheekbones and looking over the wounds.  "... is this your blood?" 

tzuyu doesn't say anything, just looks at jihyo, eyes watery and lips pursed. 

"oh, baby," jihyo mutters. 

she realises, tzuyu's not so much shaking from the cold than shaking from whatever happened to her before all this.

she's scared. 

jihyo decides her questions can wait. 

"take a shower, i'll get you a set of clothes," she says, stroking tzuyu's cheek one last time and laying her palms on tzuyu's knees. "okay?"  

tzuyu catches jihyo's wrist before she stands up; whispers, "stay with me?" 

her fingertips are still freezing, so jihyo adjusts her hold until her hands are covering tzuyu’s. just a little warmth. 

“okay,” she raises their hands up to her lips, presses a kiss to tzuyu’s knuckles. “i’ll get us clothes.” 

--

jihyo has seen her fair share of blood and slashes, but peeling tzuyu’s soaked red clothes off still makes her wince. tzuyu sucks in a sharp breath at times, some wounds a little more tender than others. 

the most obvious ones are gashes below her ribs and another on her thigh, then bruises here and there. there’s more blood on her jaw, but jihyo can’t tell if they’re tzuyu’s or someone else's. 

tzuyu stays close the entire shower, and jihyo focuses on washing her hair first. she kneads the shampoo into tzuyu’s head gently, massages her fingers into her scalp and detangles whatever she can. 

the shower adds on to the rain outside; it’s loud in tzuyu’s ears, a mess of sounds. 

tzuyu clenches her fists, lets jihyo work her fingers through her hair despite the sensitivity of water passing over her wounds. 

she tries to focus on jihyo’s eyes – dark brown, then golden when the light catches them just right. they’re distracted and darting, cautious and wary, but soft around the edges, fading into black at the rim of her irises.

it becomes apparent that the blood on tzuyu's face isn't tzuyu's own. jihyo doesn't know if she should be worried or relieved. 

she cleans tzuyu's wounds in the shower, too, gently rinsing the cuts with warm water. tzuyu flinches whenever jihyo dabs at it, whimpering and shaking softly.

jihyo intertwines her free hand with tzuyu’s, squeezing reassuringly. “just a little more, tzu.” 

tzuyu squeezes back, eyes closed. 

for the most part, jihyo's voice is soothing enough to help her endure the pain. 

"this part won't hurt, don't worry." 

she rests her head on jihyo's shoulder still, and jihyo tries not to ache too much at the feeling of tzuyu tearing up, holding her breath throughout. 

the gashes don't look deep, so jihyo places a gauze dressing over them and settles with wrapping tzuyu up in bandages. 

"can you walk?" jihyo asks, scratching lightly at tzuyu's scalp and running a thumb over the shell of her ear.  

tzuyu nods, releasing the breath she was holding. she uses jihyo as leverage to stand up, but shifts most of her weight on her uninjured leg. 

jihyo stands with her, letting tzuyu hold on to her shoulders as they dress. 

"thank you," tzuyu says, slipping jihyo's oversized t-shirt on. 

it fits just right when she wears it, and it smells perfectly of jihyo. 

"sorry," she adds. "i won't– "

"don't be," jihyo cuts in. "i know it's a given for… what you do." 

she curves her palm around tzuyu's jaw gently, almost as if she's afraid of hurting tzuyu. tzuyu can't help but turn her head to nuzzle into the touch. 

"just come to me, okay? any time," jihyo continues, stroking tzuyu's face. "i'm always here. i'll always, always open the door for you. i'll do all of this again if you ever need it. remember that." 

tzuyu nods. "i know." 

she places a hand over jihyo's, kisses her palm. 

remembers the storm outside, how she staggered through the downpour with barely any conscience, light-headed from the fight. she'd shown up at jihyo's house naturally; an innate desire to just want to be with jihyo.

there was nowhere else she’d rather have gone.

--

tzuyu wakes up in jihyo’s arms at dawn, turns her head to check if jihyo’s awake. 

jihyo has tossed all the blankets over tzuyu, she knows tzuyu runs cold. she has one hand over the part of tzuyu’s abdomen that had been injured, and the other plays with tzuyu’s hair idly. 

“i have to go to work,” she says, seeing that tzuyu had awoken. her voice is low and raspy in the morning. “will you stay?”

tzuyu hums, stretches until she can curl an arm around jihyo’s waist. “can i?” 

she's still sore, and every move sends a sharp pain to the gashes. but it's better. better than if she were alone.

“always." jihyo kisses her temple. 

she leans down again to brush tzuyu’s hair aside, presses another kiss to her forehead. “i have to get a few urgent things sorted at the office, but i’ll be home quickly, okay?” 

tzuyu smiles. “i’ll be here.” 

where else would she go?

the rain had stopped sometime in the night.

she’s warm, she’s safe. 

and she’s with jihyo. 

even if tzuyu is chaos in all her ways, jihyo is peace.

i'm sure this would've been a much nicer read if i'd wrote some backstory for them, but i couldn't get this particular scene out of my mind 🤧 it's meant to be detective!hyo / vigilante!tzu! is the suit part of tzuyu's vigilante get-up or is it just bc i find it hot? who knows <3 you can tell ttt crime scene 2 did a number on me

anyways, thank you for reading!!! i really loved writing this one, and i really hope you enjoyed it! interactions truly truly appreciated <3

[kyusunyu]

SUNWOO ↳ “𝕺𝖓𝖈𝖊 𝖚𝖕𝖔𝖓 𝖆 𝖙𝖎𝖒𝖊”

a TBZ frat boyz series.

kim sunwoo x f!reader :: ex lovers/soulmate tropes

warnings: some explicit content 👀, hardly smutty. lots of feels though. (rough edit)

𝔬𝔫𝔠𝔢 𝔲𝔭𝔬𝔫 𝔞 𝔱𝔦𝔪𝔢 𝔱𝔥𝔢𝔯𝔢 𝔩𝔦𝔳𝔢𝔡 𝔞 𝔥𝔬𝔱 𝔰𝔬𝔠𝔠𝔢𝔯 𝔱𝔢𝔞𝔪 𝔭𝔯𝔬𝔡𝔦𝔤𝔶 𝔞𝔫𝔡 𝔞 𝔨𝔫𝔬𝔴-𝔦𝔱-𝔞𝔩𝔩 𝔟𝔬𝔬𝔨 𝔴𝔬𝔯𝔪 𝔱𝔥𝔞𝔱 𝔪𝔢𝔢𝔱 𝔬𝔫𝔠𝔢 𝔞𝔤𝔞𝔦𝔫 𝔴𝔥𝔢𝔫 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔪𝔬𝔬𝔫’𝔰 𝔣𝔲𝔩𝔩 𝔞𝔫𝔡 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔰𝔱𝔞𝔯𝔰 𝔞𝔩𝔦𝔤𝔫…

“Bite me.”

you were a realist.

far from delusional,

even if the stars aligned on a full moon night.

nothing could convince you to believe that a frat party would be a hell of a good time.

“I have too much shit.” you annunciate, yeeting a pencil in your best friend’s general direction. “Ask Mina. I’m sure she’d find sweaty people and an uncanny amount of booze fun.”

your model of a roommate sulks.

bummed you weren’t like the rest of the girls around here.

like who in their right mind would decline an invite to the biggest frat house in SK?

“Leave it to you to pass on a good time. Boo, tomatoes.”

you send her a merciless smile. “I feel less of a detriment to society this way. Have you seen me in anything other than sweats and a hoodie? It takes effort to look as good as you. Effort I cannot spare for myself.”

“Talk about dramatic.”

dramatics aside,

there was nothing that could possibly be done to drag you out of this dorm room and into the pits of hell called TBZ.

that godforsaken frathood might drive you off a cliff.

you’ll give them the benefit of the doubt.

they were far from hideous— a sight for sore eyes really.

intelligent, sociable, and athletic.

all 11 of them.

even if 2 happened to be both your exes.

once upon a time..

“Well, i’m leaving.” the gorgeous red head flips her hair, model figure hugged in the little black dress she sported. “If i’m not back by morning, send a search party. I love you! Don’t study too hard my little book worm.”

yes.

there were some perks to being roommates and best friend’s with your polar opposite.

a stable social life.

free clothes.

and invites to the biggest parties?

too bad you hardly found any of those to be useful to you.

“Hello?”

“Y/n?” her voice sounds irritated, slightly slurred and strained against the echoing music of the party. “Y/n, can you come get me? Fuck— these people are losers. I’m drunk.”

you grimace.

she’s upset.

it’s only midnight and of all people—

Taeri was upset.

“Did something happen?” you mumble sleepily, sitting up to turn on a light. “Are you okay? DId someone hurt you?”

too drunk to process the question, she groans. “Will you just please come and get me? I feel like I’m gonna explode.”

“O-okay, just give me a couple—“

the call flat lines.

great.

the day has finally come that the stars aligned on a full moon night.

albeit, you still didn’t think the frat party was gonna be a good time,

but i guess you’ll bite.

it didn’t take long to wash up a little, whipping out one of Taeri’s hand me down’s.

10 minutes longer and you had your liner drawn and a simple red tint to your velvet lips.

you absolutely dreaded having to face the day you’d ever come to this—

a strapless top, tight jeans and mid height high heels.

but you had some class.

you weren’t gonna be a detriment to society by showing up in half ass pj’s.

“Hey.”

the hottie by the door makes a double take.

“H-hello.”

your forehead creases, eyes looking into the still much alive party. “Aren’t you gonna ask for my name, pretty boy?”

pretty boy doesn’t respond.

honestly, too stunned to answer.

because god damn.

god damn—

“Damnit.” Eric blinks furiously, wiping at his shirt upon spilling some of his drink. “Sorry, name?”

“Y/n.”

“Y/n, you’re on the list— Y/n?”

at this point, he’s completely disregarded his drink.

the rest spilling all over his thousand dollar shoes.

“Y/n.” you affirm with a slight chuckle. “Taeri called. Is she alright?”

no, of course she’s not.

the sole reason for her coming, being her ex boyfriend who happens to live here—

who undoubtedly was the cause of the phone call in the first place

“Well all hell hasn’t broke loose yet.” Eric manages to make it through a sentence. “You don’t normally come to these things, don’t you? Taeri said you’re not much of a party goer.”

“Great observation, pretty boy. I was summoned. If Taeri wasn’t in trouble, why’d she call me then?”

he aimlessly shrugs. “Hyunjae hasn’t touched your hot model bestie all night. I mean Sunwoo’s back in town so maybe—“

oh god.

OH MY GOD.

fucking hell on earth.

“Hey, didn’t you and Sunwoo—“

“No I don’t know a Sunwoo.” he elicits a pressed panicked grin by you. “And Sunwoo doesn’t know me. Are we understanding each other? Do I make myself clear, pretty boy.”

the pretty boy grins back. “Fucking crystal.”

you pray to the stars in the sky to disarrange.

you pray for anything but the storm that brews ahead.

you pray for the sake of your roommate,

that this was nothing but a coincidence.

“— that Sunwoo’s back in town, can you believe it?”

you refrain from putting that stranger into a chokehold.

wanting nothing but to be home in your covers.

you’re no cinderella but,

it’s past your damn bedtime.

“Where the fuck is she?” you mumble to yourself incoherently, searching the heavily intoxicated crowd for your best friend.

leave it to her to make you the damn search party.

these heels were killing you.

but those heels on you weren’t just killing you,

it was killing everyone else too.

“You won’t believe who just walked in.” Eric came back to his group of troublemakers, kissing his lips through a devious smirk. “God damn, you won’t believe me when I tell you. Who just walked through our fucking doors.”

Sunwoo’s a little less interested.

tired is a simple word to describe his current attitude.

he just got back into town, man.

it’s been a stressful week for him.

the last thing he wants to deal with was Eric’s crazed nonsense.

Hyunjae’s shoulder’s perk from on top of the counter. “If you’re talking about my god forsaken ex again, we’ve already crossed paths. Like fourth party in a row.”

“Not your ex.”

Eric’s feverish.

he’s only heard about the legend of y/n.

the closed-off maths geek Sunwoo had a boner for freshman year.

the hardly qualified best friend of the hottest model on campus.

“But she’s so fucking hot though.” Eric dreamily drools, nodding from the corner in which they gather. “She’s drop dead gorgeous, Sunwoo. How could a star soccer player like you, drop a once in a lifetime shot like that?”

“What the fuck are you on about, you— you’re kidding.”

the star soccer player can’t remember the last time he saw you.

well, to be fair, the last time he saw you,

you were in an oversized hoodie, worn-in sneakers, and sweats doubled your size.

now people are expecting him to believe his ex girlfriend stalked the halls of his house—

in stunning Louboutins nonetheless.

leather tight top hiked too far up the stomach, cleavage half out and bed hair making you look like a 5-star Michelin.

those heels.

the heels are killing him on you, he doesn’t know what to do.

“You’re fucking kidding.” Juyeon jumps from his seat, the rest of the males following suit like a pack of hungry wolves. “That’s her?”

Sangyeon whistles at all that. “I’ll be damned.”

Sunwoo can’t say a thing.

nope.

he’s not allowed to.

leave it to you to sweep the entire party of their feet right after he did.

“Taeri!” you call, unbeknownst to the lingering eyes around you. “Taeri, where are you!”

your heels click at the tiles,

excusing yourself in the crowd like the prim you are.

noting to run as soon as you find,

“Kim Sunwoo.”

your breath’s taken away.

haphazard and eyes blown out of their sockets.

you can’t run if he’s the one that finds you.

“Sunwoo, I—“

he doesn’t let you manage even a word.

clearly won’t let you say a thing.

not that you weren’t allowed to.

after all,

he’s the one that got away.

“Not you.” you tear his hands from tugging on your wrists. “Of anyone in this damn frat house, not you, Kim Sunwoo. I want absolutely nothing to do with you.”

leave it to Sunwoo to look at you like the mad man he is.

the hot shot playboy of IST,

this was your sumptuous ex boyfriend.

your only ex boyfriend.

“— the last thing I want to see. Get away from me.”

his eyes roll and he pins you to the wall of his bedroom,

making sure to lock the door behind you.

“The last thing I want to see is my beloved ex girlfriend showing up half naked at one of my frat parties. But life’s unfair isn’t it?”

he elicits a pitiful snort and you dare yourself to retort back. “The thought never bothered you before when you begged me to be your damn side piece, once upon a time.”

“Once upon a time, you were mine. Let me make myself very clear, you were my girl. And right now, I don’t get that luxury— i’m not allowed to call you that.”

“If you’re looking for permission, you’re far from it. I’m not here for you, i’m here for Taeri.”

Sunwoo’s never liked that girl.

always trying to get you to wear the skankiest clothes.

present you like a centerpiece.

taking you whenever she wanted.

(she had her work cut for her)

when all he wanted was you all to himself.

“Trying to prove yourself by being hotter than her?”

you pry his body off of you,

heated.

absolutely heated you could explode.

“Trying to prove myself by not being a damn joke. Isn’t that what I was to you, once upon a time Kim Sunwoo? The reason you dropped me because I could never prove myself to be the girlfriend in Kim Sunwoo’s hot fucking life.”

his chest rises and falls as fast as his blood boils.

he always loved firing you up.

you were so hot, he couldn’t tell you why.

but he always wanted to strip you out of your oversized clothes and get you completely naked anyway.

the thrill of seeing you naked being a blessing in disguise.

right now,

you were already half way there.

“I loved you.”

“Loved me?” you laugh incredulously. “The sex was good but other than that, what can you say you loved about me? Other than lying to my face, nearly ripping out my hair, telling me your cock only belonged to me? But digging it inside other women like that didn’t matter at all.”

he’s taken by surprise.

that dirty mouth of yours.

he’s been needing a stress relief.

and suddenly, he’s not that stressed about any of his circumstances.

especially the ones he faces right now.

in fact, he’s more laxed than he’s ever been in his entire life.

“Still thinking about my cock, are you?”

“Yours and 5 others, baby. It stopped being all about—“

his lips crash against yours and the wall is suddenly your best friend.

so much for Taeri—

god, Kim Sunwoo was just so irresistible.

“You.” he growls into your lips while ripping off his shirt. “It’s always been all about you, hasn’t it?”

an arduous moan escapes your tethered lips,

melting in the hands of your inconceivable ex boyfriend.

“Im gonna make those 5 others look like training wheels, baby. I’m going to make sure you know who you belong to.”

it’s been 2 years.

you weren’t gonna wallow over your breakup with Sunwoo forever.

yes, you’ve slept with other people but damn.

other people will never be Kim Sunwoo.

“I won’t even have to beg for you to be my side piece when i’m finished with you.”

Taeri and Hyunjae were fine.

Taeri was upset but hey,

Hyunjae beat you to it anyway.

while Sunwoo’s beating into you,

Taeri stops to look at her ex, “Have you seen y/n? She said she was gonna come get me.”

Taeri’s never really liked Sunwoo for you either.

he was always possessive.

always center of fucking attention.

too big and mighty for her little know it all.

but god damn.

if there was anyone who made you happier than she’s ever seen you,

it was that poor unfortunate soul.

“She’s gonna eat him alive.” Taeri chuckles with her hand on her ex’s lap. “Poor thing, y/n’s balled up her anger for him for years. You think he’s gonna be okay?”

that was the thrill of you, you know.

always one step ahead of everyone else,

Sunwoo had to put a leash on you.

he was so tired of chasing,

“You’ve let go, Sunwoo.” you’re hyperventilating over his broad chest. “Where’s all that control you had now?”

you were gonna be the death of him.

he had to juggle loving you, paying the frat, his soccer career—

“I’m sorry.”

3 rounds later and Sunwoo’s spent.

ravishing in your beauty,

the yearning of something he didn’t think he needed in a long time.

you made him the happiest man alive once upon a time.

“I don’t deserve you.”

3 rounds later and you were convinced.

ravishing in his warmth and comfort—

you haven’t felt this content in a long time.

“You deserved all of me.”

you loved him.

god you loved him and you don’t know how to stop.

2 years later and he’s still the man you love.

“I loved your wide smile. I craved your touch. I wanted your attention every damn day and you deserved every minute of having me. I loved everything about you, Kim Sunwoo. But you made that decision to let me go a long time ago.”

he kisses the places your tears stain,

fingers shakily threading through your now long hair.

“I was tired of convincing myself all of that were true. Tell me, baby. What else did you love about me?”

you catch your breath, nose brushed against his.

“Your eyes. Your nose. Your dick.”

his throaty laugh fills your ears like music on christmas morning. “What else, baby?”

you lean in, humming against his cheek.

eyes shut in absolute bliss.

remembering the subtle scent of bergamot and sage that stained his skin.

“Your lips? The way they move when you kiss me. How they feel when you tell me you love me.”

his arms clasp around your hips.

high on your euphoria with you pressed against him like this.

the stars were in his favor tonight.

perfectly aligned in the sky when he finally tells you,

“I love you.”

you’re convinced he’s joking.

you have to convince yourself he was making you a joke.

but Sunwoo holds you like he’s gonna lose you.

afraid you were gonna let go.

“I’ll never deserve you but i’ll love you for the rest of my life if I have to in order to convince myself I do.”

“What do you love about me, Kim Sunwoo?”

the full moon is in your favor.

illuminating the room just enough to meet his colorful eyes.

just enough color to remember how he looked at you once upon a time.

“That you’ll be the only girl that I get to love in my entire life. I don’t want to be with anyone else but you, baby. Not even if the stars start crossing in the sky.”

you a side piece?

hardly.

no, Kim Sunwoo never left your side.

he was like an overbearing parasite,

only having to move elsewhere when he wanted to be on top.

or when he kneels in front of you to ask you to be his wife.

and to think he would’ve had to beg once upon a time.

@kyusunyu / @kpopinesss / @atinybitofau

[be-on-your-way]

"She has moon in her mind, that's why stars spill off her lips "⚡🙂‍↔️moon.

[fearnesbells]

wreck my mind while the planet turns | imodna | 3k+

hello hello hi

i got bitten by the imodna fic writing bug guys.

playlist here

ao3 link here

Imogen blinks to get the red out of her eyes.

It’s snowing.

She pauses on the path to crane her neck and watch the flakes fall from the night sky. The red fades to the back of her mind, a low, distant ebb. 

(Almost like a moon is there, maybe, pulling at tides.)

There is a small, sacred pleasure in watching the snow—from this angle, illuminated in midair by lantern light, the flakes falling almost look like stars. Momentary constellations, generated and broken apart moment-by-moment through the whims of the clouds overhead.

She is fascinated as she holds her hand just in front of her face. She watches the geometric ice crystals alight on her gloves, no longer for concealment and now purely for warmth.

For a while, she stays right where she is, content to quietly, happily watch the flakes accumulate and clump together on the knit purple texture over her hands. Snow is still endlessly entrancing to her desert-born soul. As the pink in her cheeks begins to shift to a chapped, bitten red and her shiver intensifies, though, she decides that it’s probably best to tear herself away and resume the journey back.

With the lantern brandished, she continues on, settling into a familiar, quickened pace as she rounds the next curve of the path. Her body knows this, by now, the pain of her sore muscles and aching bones all but lifted from her by the knowledge that she’s almost home.

Home—the stout, perfect cottage of stone and wood, built strong and small and warm against the wild of the woods. Honey-colored light spills out of the windows and glitters on the snow. A thin curl of smoke rises from the chimney, and a soft, unbidden smile rises to Imogen’s face as she senses Laudna’s familiar music nudging at her mind. 

She lets her in. She always lets her in.

Laudna’s presence is unobtrusive and distinctly pleased in her head as Imogen takes an assessing look at the horses, safe and warm in the side barn. The familiar, sweet feeling makes her smile loosely as she knocks her boots free of snow on the porch. 

A horseshoe hangs on the door, situated just above a bundle of dried thistleweed to keep the wraiths away. A sigil is carved on either side of the display—one in a spidery, thin-fingered script, the other burned into the wood at a skewed, lavender-tinted angle. Protection spells, from both of them.

Imogen’s key is stubborn in the lock, but turns eventually, and she stumbles inside.

The sigils flicker.

She experiences instant warmth from the roaring fire in the fireplace, a pot of stew boiling over top of it. The seizing, wholehearted fondness for the creature kneeling bent and delighted in front of it, though, dulls all other sensations down to nothing in comparison to its vibrancy. She practically can’t even notice the change in temperature.

Hey, sweet thing, she thinks, overflowing with affection, then says it aloud for good measure.

Laudna turns and tilts her face up to beam at her. “Hello,” she says again. “How was your day?”

Imogen opens her mouth and, curiously, has nothing to say. How was her day? Where has she been?

“It’s snowin’,” she tells her, stalling with a slowed cadence so she can sift through her memory anything about what transpired today. 

All she has is the path, the snow.

“Well, yes, darling,” Laudna replies. She giggles a little bit, points to the thick, lead-paned windows that show the forest (and the snow) outside. “I saw.” She stands up and rests one hand on Imogen’s hip, the other on her cheek, still flushed from the wind and cold. Her thumb traces over the skin there. “You look extremely adorable like this. I feel as though I was robbed with all those years we didn’t spend in the snow.”

Imogen laughs, then, forgetting her forgotten day, and cups Laudna’s face in her purple-gloved hands to kiss her sweetly. 

“Thanks, honey,” she murmurs, stepping back to begin peeling off her winter layers. A coatrack, roughly hewn, stands crooked by the door from the weight of coats and hats and scarves. “How was your day?”

“Went collecting, found some treasures,” Laudna says pleasantly, shrugs. It’s a short response from the normally verbose Laudna, and Imogen’s brows knit together in worry until Laudna leans in to kiss her again, nipping lightly at her lower lip. 

“Glad to hear it,” Imogen says softly, and lets the world fall away for a moment save for her lover, who is so beautiful, and so all-encompassing. It’s easy to let her eclipse all the rest.

When the world comes back, she makes an effort to take it in.

She tucks her face in the thin crook of Laudna’s neck. The smell of dew-soaked earth surrounds her. Chilled. Familiar. Safe. She feels utter contentment, the likes of which she first encountered in those early days on the run—the two of them curled into each other nose-to-nose, awash in newly minted trust.

She had a small and sacred wish for this future, back then, held closer to her heart than its own beats.She didn’t dare to risk her closest hope by speaking it aloud.

She just wished for a home for them. Both of them want (then and now) nothing more than to never have to run again in their lives. They need somewhere to settle.

Imogen presses a brush of a kiss to the cool skin at the edge of Laudna’s jaw. “Dinner?” she asks softly, and when Laudna smiles Imogen feels the movement of it under her lips.

When she steps back, it’s all sharp teeth and sharp joy. “Dinner, yes.”

She moves to the hearth again, and Imogen follows her with a hand on the small of her back. Her eyes go to the tchotchkes scattered over the top of the fireplace.

Bones. Pieces of statues. Bundles of dried flowers.

A inexplicable snowflake interrupts her cataloguing and swirls across her vision, followed by a second, then a third. Imogen’s focus is magnetically pulled to their paths.

A voice says her name, somewhere. The sound does not come from inside the house.

Imogen dimly recognizes it as her name after the fact, like when you can label a birdsong only after the echo has long faded. She cannot tear her eyes away from the snowflakes, now accumulating over top of the fireplace like they did over the surface of her gloves earlier. 

An awful feeling gathers in her chest.

“Imogen?”

This time, her name comes from just off to her side—oh, yes, Laudna. It’s all right. Laudna is here. The weight of the feeling eases at the sight of her girl, holding a bowl of stew and looking at her with her deep eyes.

“Are you all right?”

“Peachy,” Imogen tells her through a dry throat. “I’m okay, honey, sorry. Heard something—or, well, saw something, I guess. Both.”

Something alights in those dark, dark eyes. “What did you see?”

“Probably nothing,” Imogen reassures. “I don’t want to worry you about it, okay? Probably just the aftereffects of the chill from outside. Maybe I’m gettin’ sick.”

Laudna rests the back of her free hand against Imogen’s forehead, cold and smooth.

“Eat this, darling, and we’ll talk.”

Imogen takes the bowl of stew with both hands and sits down, keeps her eyes on Laudna at the fire. The tension in her chest unwinds as the other woman ladles a serving into her own bowl, humming to herself.

The stew is delicious. It tastes like her father’s cooking, when he still cooked. Imogen has practically devoured half the bowl before she comes up for air.

Laudna sits at her side after a minute, and takes one of Imogen’s leyline-scarred hands in her own instead of beginning to eat. Laudna never needs to eat much.

“Tell me what you saw,” she says softly. “Like we do with your dreams.”

Imogen keeps her eyes on her face, finding comfort there like she always does as she starts speaking.

“Snow,” she murmurs. “I saw snow. Falling indoors, though—right over there, over our fireplace.”

“No moon?”

“No, there was no—no. Just snow.”

“Think, darling. Really think. Was there a moon?”

Imogen is confused by her insistence, but closes her eyes tightly, remembering the single flake, then the flurry. Remembers the way the snow had drifted together over their things.

Remembers red light from the moon falling through the windowpanes, glittering on the snow like fresh blood.

“There… there was, but…”

“But what?”

She opens her eyes, then, feels Laudna’s music in her mind, anxious now. It’s like a too-quick bow dashing across the strings of a fiddle. 

Ruidus is visible now through the kitchen window, silhouetting Laudna’s form—how did she not see it before?

Imogen’s hand, flickering with violet light, clenches and unclenches over the surface of the dining room table.

More sigils are carved over its wood. These are in the thin, webby etching that must have been done by Laudna’s hand. They’re not traditional, instead made up of strung-together foundational symbols that have been cobbled into novel translations.

Refuge. Home. Stronghold.

Fight it, Imogen.

“But what, darling?”

She stares hard at the last sigil, remembering what it’s supposed to say, what they carved there in the first place, and finds that she can’t. Finds, in fact, that now all of the sigils are burning red, bright in her eyes, and that all of them now spell FIGHT, IMOGEN.

“We have to go,” she says desperately. “Laudna, I—.”

Laudna takes both of Imogen’s hands in hers, now, and turns fully to face her. The stew sitting in front of them both has gone quite cold.

“Breathe,” she says fiercely. “Breathe. Shut it out. It’s just that old moon again. He cannot find you here.” She holds Imogen’s gaze with her dark, caring eyes. “Breathe, Imogen.”

The red light recedes. Imogen’s breath still shakes on the way out.

Laudna takes her right index finger and touches it to her own lips before she rests it against her forehead, eyes still locked on Imogen.

Remember? she hears.

Imogen breathes out a weak laugh, and does the same—kisses her index finger, touches her own forehead.

I’m keepin’ you up there, she thinks. Don’t you worry.

“Good,” Laudna whispers, and moves her hand from her own forehead to cup Imogen’s cheek. “I’ll fight it off for you, okay? If it comes, I will fight it.”

Imogen leans into Laudna’s touch, twists just slightly so she can brush her lips against the palm of Laudna’s hand. 

I don’t know if it can be fought, honey.

She keeps the thought just between their minds—some things are too terrifying to be said aloud.

“It can be fought, because I will make it so.” Laudna is determined, her eyes getting deeper and darker like they do when her form of dread begins to take its shape. “You are bound for more than that moon. I will not let it take you.”

Imogen smiles wanly at Laudna’s ferocity, but feels tears gather in her eyes, too.

“Everything we learn about Ruidus seems like it’s pointin’ right to me,” Imogen whispers. “My scars… my magic… hell, my mama, Laudna. This is my fate.”

“Why?” Laudna asks, broken. “Why is that your fate, and not this?”

Imogen looks around their home, its life and warmth and light, and a truth settles in her.

“This isn’t real,” she admits, finally. “I don’t know what it is, but it’s not real.”  

There is a lump in her throat that makes continuing feel impossible, but she tries to speak around it. She will always try for Laudna.

“I made my choice,” she says, the softest her voice can go. “I could’ve abandoned the mission—the group—I could’ve left, and gone to pursue this, with you. But I… at every point, when I could have changed my fate, I chose not to. And now I’ve bound myself to a path with one end.”

“Only one?”

Imogen smiles listlessly, on reflex, a shield more than anything else. Something to deflect the aching weight of Laudna’s gaze.

“Ruidus’ll be the end of me,” she says. “I don’t know how I know that, but I do. One way or another, my road ends there. I’m dying up there, Laud.”

Laudna watches her, quiet, and doesn’t say anything for a long while. It feels like she sees right through to the core of Imogen. It always does.

“So you’re giving up, then,” Laudna says, as a statement of fact.

“What? No, I’m—I’m seeing this through till the end, honey, that’s what I—”

“I woke up at the base of the tree,” Laudna interrupts her. 

Laudna never interrupts her.

“I know.” Imogen hears her own voice shake.

“When I opened my eyes, I was so cold. I had never been that cold before, ever. And it was raining, and there was rope—” Laudna’s pale hand goes to her neck, to the friction scars that are textured over the skin there. “I was dead. And then I was alive again—but only partly. Half a life, tossed to me like scraps.”

“I know,” Imogen insists. “I know all of this, Laud, and I also know that you don’t like to talk about it, so we don’t have to…”

“Imogen. Please listen to me.”

It is a simple request, but it’s delivered with such sincerity that Imogen bites down on her tongue.

“Do you know what I did first?”

“Tried to find someone… to talk to?”

“I tried to climb back up the tree and retie the rope. To right the unnatural wrong that had been done.”

Imogen could not speak now if she wanted to. Bile crowds the back of her throat, tears burn at the corners of her eyes. Her vision is edged with red, and she doesn’t know if it’s Ruidus or the storm or the hot, awful press of grief and fear.

“I did not succeed, which you know, and it is something I am now grateful for. I am grateful in a manner so uncomplicated that it is beautiful. There is no regret in the fact that I am alive—or as alive as a Hollow One can be.”

Imogen grabs Laudna’s hands again, and holds them so tightly she fears a knuckle will pop out of place.

“You never told me that before,” Imogen breathes, through her burning, tight throat. “I—Laudna—”

“I continued on, after that, because I understood something that I am trying to get you to understand by telling you all of this, darling.” She squeezes Imogen’s hands right back, bony and strong. “I know what it is like to feel predestined for nothing but doom. I know that you do, too. But my love, my heart, you must understand that you cannot let yourself believe that. You are a creature of such capability and wonder—” she touches her forehead to Imogen’s, and Imogen feels their connection tug open—what a waste it would be if you arrived at the gates of hell and walked yourself in.

There are so many tears on Imogen’s cheeks. She tries to swipe at them, and mostly fails. “Are you real?”

Laudna smiles in the same way Imogen did earlier—humorlessly, like it’s armor. “Yes. No.”

Imogen stands from their table, where the sigils are glowing red, and walks to the window. 

Ruidus is closer now—larger. It has begun to storm outside instead of snow.

Someone is calling her name.

She turns back, looks at Laudna sitting at the table, there in all her open, perfect glory.

“I’m here to protect you,” Laudna continues to explain, softly. “From the storm.”

Imogen looks around the house again. Looks at it, really sees it. 

It is so beautiful. Messy, like she’d always thought it would be. Flowers in vases, flowers framed on the wall, dried flowers hung in bunches to ward off wayward curses. Bones peppered in among the blooms.

She commits it to memory, just in case.

“I can have this,” she says aloud. “I can hope for this.”

“Yes, you can,” Laudna responds softly. “Always.”

Imogen goes to her, then, because how could she not? She wraps her in her arms, holds her close and flush and as tightly as she dares. Laudna holds her back.

“I want this,” she murmurs. “I’m going to fight for this.”

Fight, Imogen.

With Laudna gripping her hand, she takes one last look around a home that could be hers and strides out into the storm.

The snowy path, the barn, the shed, all of it is gone—there is only red. Lightning screams overhead like it has a voice.

COME.

It’s the call she’s familiar with, the one that she hears every night when she falls asleep. Ruidus—Predathos—calling her forth, beckoning her within.

She takes a step towards its eye. On what ground, she isn’t sure. She can’t see where her foot finds purchase.

COME.

Darling. Follow me.

Laudna, in her form of dread, stands spindly and tall at Imogen’s side, and beckons her away from the storm. 

Imogen blinks. The red dims, slightly.

Come on, darling. I’m right here. We can get out of this.

With the effort of a god, Imogen reorients herself, takes a step in Laudna’s direction.

There you are. I’m your tether, right? I’m pulling you right along. Just follow me. It’ll be easy.

One step turns to two, to three. The howling intensifies, the storm’s voice crowding her mind and splitting her head in two with pain, pain, pain—

Sweet, melodic music undercuts the sound of screams, and then mutes them down to nothing.

Follow me, sweet. I’m right here.

I love you.

She’s running, now, the steps coming easier, and Laudna is loping right alongside her, a many-limbed thing with eyes like the night.

“I love you!” she shouts back, out loud. Her voice is stolen by the wind, but she knows Laudna hears.

Keep running! Don’t stop! I love you more than any—

“—thing.”

Laudna’s voice.

There is sun.

There is sun, falling over her skin, and the smell of dew-soaked earth.

“Oh—oh, gods—Imogen?”

Laudna is holding her. Laudna is cradling her, really, draped over the thin frame of her body, and her face is wide-eyed with a naked sort of hope.

“Hi, darlin’,” she croaks. Her throat is painfully dry. “I didn’t… am I okay?”

Black tears gather in Laudna’s eyes and she starts to laugh, then, holds her impossibly closer and shoves her face in the crook of Imogen’s neck.

Imogen nudges at Laudna’s mind, out of habit, and an explosion bursts forth of Imogen-Imogen-Imogen-my Imogen-my girl-Imogen-oh, Imogen-Imogen, Imogen, Imogen—

“You were gone,” she says, mostly against Imogen’s skin. “We were on the road towards Ludinus, and then you went out like a light—like a candle, or something—oh, Imogen, I’m so glad you’re awake,” she says, pulls back just enough to look her in the eyes. “Do you feel all right? Are you all right?”

Imogen leans in and kisses her, touches their foreheads together.

“I love you,” she says softly. “I’m all right.”

I can have this. I can hope for this.

She looks in Laudna’s eyes, sees the fierce, stubborn light behind them, refusing to wink out.

I’m going to fight to keep it.

[rilannon]

Prompt: Skye keeps finding tarot cards from a very unusual deck. Julia looks shaken when she finally shows them to her.

The first card shows up in Skye's gear bag, tucked underneath her ring boots. She almost misses it, but the glint of gold catches her eye. She picks up the card, turning it to see the way the golden accents catch the light. The rest of the card is black and white, a stylised figure of a man carrying a bundle of possessions on a stick, walking towards the edge of a cliff. Skye recognises it as a tarot card, although she has no idea which one it is or what it means. There’s no words written on the card to help her, and the back is plain black with golden edging. For now she tucks it away in her bag and continues to get ready for her match, making a mental note to ask around about it after the show.

That night she encounters Julia Hart and the Black Mist, and the tarot card is the last thing on her mind. 

The second card shows up in her locker a few shows later. Skye is tired and aching after her match, despite the relatively hot shower to try and soothe the aching muscles in her upper back. She doesn’t see the card at first, propped up against the locker itself, but when she grabs her clothes it flutters to the floor. She bends over to pick it up, noting that the back is the same as the previous card. When she turns it over, this time it shows a man, one arm pointing up and the other pointing down, a golden infinity sign above his head. There’s a table with some items laid out on it, a sword and a goblet, but Skye still doesn’t recognise which card it is. She puts it with the other one, leaving the mystery of who was leaving the cards for her to find until later. 

Skye finds the third card in her jacket pocket, on her way out of the arena a week or so after the second. She reaches in for her phone, and instead pulls out the card, the black and white and gold quickly becoming familiar. This time the card shows a woman sitting between two pillars, her golden hair spilling down from her moon shaped headdress. Skye could almost be convinced that the woman looks like Julia, but maybe she’s just got Julia on her mind at the moment. She can feel something dark twisting inside her, ever since she was misted. She knows Willow was misted too, but the other woman seems to be shrugging it off. That or she’s hiding it really, really well, Skye isn’t sure. She’s not sure of a lot of things these days. Her phone chiming with a notification that her Uber was here breaks her out of her thoughts, and she tucks the card away safely and decides to deal with it another time. 

The next week, Skye opens her suitcase in her hotel to find two cards, neatly lying on top of her clothes. One shows a woman, sitting on a throne surrounded by golden flowers, golden stars sparkling in her hair. The other shows a man also on a throne, holding an orb and rod, a golden edged mountain behind him. Skye knows she should be more worried about their appearance in her suitcase than she is, but as she holds them she gets the weirdest feeling that they belong exactly where they are. As she turns one over, this time the light seems to catch on an image, faintly embossed on the card. It takes some time to find the right angle in the light, but Skye can make out the symbol of the House of Black on the back of the card. She checks first the other card from her suitcase, and then the previous cards that she had found, and they all have the symbol embossed. She’s not sure why she didn’t spot it before. Eventually she decides that the lighting wasn’t good enough to see the symbol the previous times, and she tucks them away in her bag to take to the arena with her, hoping to find Julia and ask about them. 

Julia isn’t there that night, but Skye keeps the cards close. She knows they’re important, somehow, even if the details escape her. 

The cards stop coming, for a little while, and Skye almost forgets all about them. She’s got plenty of other things on her mind, the darkness that has twisted inside her ever since she was misted finally consuming her, and through the rush of dark power she can see Julia smiling, approving, an almost golden glow around her. It’s not until they’re preparing for their match the following week that Skye finds another card. This time it’s tucked into her makeup bag, falling out as she gets everything out to get ready for the show. Both her and Julia reach for it at the same time, but Julia freezes as she touches the card. Skye picks it up carefully, wary of the way Julia is staring at the card. This one shows a man holding a golden scepter, a man that definitely looks like Malakai Black. Skye looks to Julia in confusion, but there is none of the calm, confident poise that she’s come to expect. Instead Julia looks shaken, eyes wide as she looks from the card to Skye. Skye pulls out the other cards and explains how they started just showing up, but it doesn’t seem to help Julia’s mood. She takes the cards when Skye offers them, fingers tracing the designs. Skye notices that the House of Black symbol is far more clear on the backs of all the cards now, but she doesn’t think too hard on why that might be. Eventually they have to return to getting ready for the show, and Julia packs the cards carefully away in her bag. She doesn’t explain, but Skye gets the strangest feeling that she isn’t going to be finding any more cards. At least, not for a while. 

[weakestwarrior]

because I always have been and always will be a squirrelcrow truther. (explanation under the cut. warning, it’s kinda long).

first of all, a lot of this is inspired by bonefall’s better bones au. please go check that out first. it contains things I’ll talking about like honor-siring and Queen’s Rights that you may not understand if you don’t.

so. this is a lot, but I’ll generation by generation to explain what’s going on, changes, and things that are the same.

Firestar: Dies at an undecided time. I like pre-Omen of the Stars/The Last Hope but I’m not fully sure WHEN I should kill him off. There’s also the choice of keeping his dead in The Last Hope but that’s boring. He’s mostly the same as canon. He’s also one of Squilf’s biggest supporters (along with Sandstorm and Leafpool),

Sandstar: Firestar’s deputy after Graystripe’s kitty kidnapping. She received Tawnypaw way back when, making her eligible for deputy. As a leader I imagine her similar to Bluestar; always involved in Clan life, going on patrol, watching kittens for queens, and generally not sitting on her ass all day like the Erins love to make leaders do. She’s not shy about speaking her mind, either, but know there’s times it’s best to stay quiet. (Also, Brambleclaw does not get Berrypaw in Po3, he goes to Sandstorm instead. Honeypaw goes to Whitewing.).

Leafpool: No long the mother of the three, she’s still important in supporting her sister when she comes back pregnant from her romp in the beyond. She stand by her sister’s choice to claim Queen’s Rights and not tell anyone the father of her kittens. Squilf does tell her once the three are born, but she’s just as clueless as the rest of the Clan until then.

Squirrelflight: My favorite girl, mother of giants, squilf. She and Crowpaw build a strong bond on the sun-down-place journey, and the two of them remain friends long after it’s over. Brambleclaw abhors their friendship, saying it’s dangerous, and why a stinky WindClan cat, but she’s not listening.

Quick rundown:

Squilf is not interested in either Ashfur or Brambleclaw.

She was close with Ashfur, but only as friends. He refused to see it that way, and was very in love with her. His possessive, controlling nature made her run.

Squilf leaves for her romp with Crowfeather around the same time Leafpool did in-canon.

She tells Crowfeather she thinks she’s pregnant at a Gathering shortly before she finds out for real. After she’s absent from them for moons he guesses (correctly) she’s nursing his kittens.

Squilf clams Queen Right’s, preventing her from having to reveal the Three’s father

Crowfeather: Fell first and extremely hard. Local man was in LOVE. He’s the one who came up with the idea to leave, seeing as they’d never be truly accepted by their Clans. He was terrified of returning home, but WindClan was just happy to have him back. He really wishes he went to ThunderClan to raise his kits, and feel like there’s so much lost time he can never possibly make up. Breezepelt was an honor-sire with Nightcloud.

Before we get into the Three: They all do have powers. Lion has his strenght, Jay has his dreamwalking, and Holly can make cats tell the truth. They all “unlock” these powers at different times. Jay dreamwalked into Firestar’s dream to hear the “kin of your kin”, unlocking his power first. Lionblaze unlocked his power after being made a warrior because of Brightheart’s teaching and guidance. Hollyleaf’s power manafested after Ashfur spilled Squilf’s secret at the Gathering. She demanded, “Why did you do it?” and out came the truth.

The Fire Scene: Doesn’t happen the way it does in canon. Ashfur is between Squilf and her kits, his claws to Jaywing’s throat, saying that if anyone moves he’ll kill him. Ashfur was always of the belief that the kits were Brambleclaw’s, and says he’s clearing the forest of traitorous Tigerkin. Squilf, in a last-ditch effort to save her children, screams out that they are Crowfeather’s. They ran away together, but she knew it was wrong and returned, only to find herself pregnant (which is partly a lie!). This sates Ashfur, and he lets everyone go with the promise that all the Clans will know. The Three are mostly unaffected by the news of their father—Lionblaze always said they were likely to be half-Clan anyways because of Holly and Jay’s wiry builds. They’re more affected by the attempt on Jaywing’s life.

Lionblaze: His mentor is NOT Ashfur, it’s Brightheart. After Ashfur’s horrible treatment of Squilf while she was pregnant, Firestar wasn’t keen on giving his grandson to him. Brightheart tempers him, bring out the courage and strength within while keeping him humble, allowing him to unlock his powers.

Hollyleaf: Her mentor remains Brackenfur, and she never trained as a healer. He instills the ways of the Code in her, even the parts she doesn’t always understand. She unlocks her powers last. She cornered Ashfur on the Gathering island after everyone has left and demanded he tell her why, and he does, the words tumbling out of his mouth like water down a fall. She lives with this for a few days, but cannot shake the rage she feels every time she sees him. He’s found dead on the Thunderpath, but it was clearly not a monster that killed him. After Ashfur’s death and vigil, Holly flees to the tunnels, unable to live in ThunderClan any longer.

Jaywing: Still blind, and never trained as warrior. He was not forced into the Healers’ den, but chose it on his own after talking with Leafpool about the starry cats he often saw in his dreams. Leanded a little too hard on Poppyfrost after Holly ran to the tunnels post-breakdown and got her pregnant.

Alderheart & Sparkpelt: The second squirrelcrow litter! These guys are born at the same time they are in-canon. How did they come about, you ask? Well, before the Great Storm, Crowfeather was actually relaying news to Sandstar about some Twolegs’ dogs that were wondering along the Wind-Thunder border. It was only a light rain when Crowfeather left camp, but was pouring when he made it to ThunderClan. Sandstar offered him to stay, and the rest of Bramblestar’s Storm (now Squirrelflight’s Storm) plays out as normal (not the same due this being an au, but you get the jist).

Poppyfrost: She and Jay had been close since he brought her back from the edge when they were apprentices. Although they remained close their whole lives, Hollyleaf’s fleeing caused them to grow even closer. Poppyfrost was delighted to find out she was pregnant, but terrified considering the situation. Due to the circumstances, she temporarily claims Queen’s Rights...and then never un-claims it.

Dovewing & Ivypool: The poppy/jay kits! Taken in by Lion and Cinder, but “nursed” by Poppyfrost. Poppy's litter “died” right before Lion and Cinder “had” Dove and Ivy. They are completely unaware of their heritage until much later. (I should note that this is bonefall’s idea, and I’m in love with it)

[fl3shm4id3n]

𝓗𝓸𝔀 𝓘𝓽'𝓼 𝓐𝓵𝔀𝓪𝔂𝓼 𝓑𝓮𝓮𝓷

𝐑𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭: 𝐇𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐨 !

𝐂𝐚𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐝𝐨 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐩𝐡𝐫𝐚𝐬𝐞 :" 𝐲/𝐧 𝐧𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐤𝐞𝐝 𝐚𝐭 𝐦𝐞 , 𝐢𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐚𝐥𝐰𝐚𝐲𝐬 𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐜𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐤𝐞𝐝 𝐚𝐭 , 𝐢 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐝 𝐨𝐟 ...𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞".

𝐌𝐚𝐲𝐛𝐞 𝐚 𝐫𝐡𝐚𝐞𝐧𝐲𝐫𝐚 𝐱 𝐲/𝐧 𝐱 𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐜𝐞𝐧𝐭

𝐖𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐚𝐥𝐢 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐲/𝐧 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐢𝐧 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐡𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 ?

𝐀𝐝𝐮𝐥𝐭 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞 𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞 !

𝐓𝐡𝐱! ❤

ᴀʟɪᴄᴇɴᴛ ʜɪɢʜᴛᴏᴡᴇʀ x ɢɴ! (ᴀꜰᴀʙ) ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

Tw: Love triangle trope, angst but fluff, smut for sure. Reader’s appearance isn’t specified along with their house. Lustful Affairs (Cheating?)

Author’s note: I hope you mind me making the reader Gn (AFAB), this is my first girl on girl action. I’d like some feedback, I hope you like it.

Its always been that way between the three, both Rhaenyra and Alicent loved Y/n. They were a member of a house that was close the crown, Y/n’s father was part of the King’s court, and he’d bring them over and they’d be with both the Targaryen princess and the Hightower lady.

Both girls wanted their attention but it was obvious that Y/n had eyes for Lady Alicent Hightower. What did she have that Rhaenyra didn’t? Was it because she had red hair? Was she more beautiful than the Realm’s Delight? But it was obvious that they had their eyes on Alicent.

That night Rhaenyra was conflicted, why didn’t Y/n also notice her? Even after Alicent had married her Father, Y/n still had their eyes on the now Queen. Rhaenyra thought that Y/n would be focused on her now but no. 

During the hunting trip, Y/n was glued to the Queen the whole time, they seemed like happy couple that she had read about, it pained her. When the princess took off with Sir Criston Cole, she could no longer hold it in but to confess to someone. 

The sky had been replaced with the moon and stars, her and her sworn sword had been talking until she finally spilled her conflict. “Have you even been in love with someone, but you know that you will never be seeing by them no matter how hard you try?” she asked her companion as he responded “What ever do you mean your grace?” he asked the princess who had a frown displaced on her face.

“Its Y/n, they just-” she cuts herself off, feeling a flood of tears flooding her eyes “ y/n never looked at me , it was always alicent that they looked at , i was just kind of ...there" she admitted as she cried into her hands. It was true, the three were close friends but it now it was Y/n and Alicent who were closer than ever.

Criston rubbed the princess back in a way of comfort, it pained him seen the princess in such distress, she deserved better than to be hurt.

𝒴𝑒𝒶𝓇𝓈 𝐿𝒶𝓉𝑒𝓇

Its been a while now, after Aemond had lost his eye by his ambition of wanting a dragon like the rest of his family, that was Alicent and Rhaenyra’s breaking point. The family has been split, now the greens and blacks. It was obvious that Y/n would be on Alicent’s side, after all they did love her more than Rhaenyra, all thought Y/n still had a love for the Targaryen princess, she loved Alicent the most. 

Y/n had to be the one to stop Alicent from cutting out the eye on a child, even though they now have a scar on their arm due to the blade slicing through their now scared arm. They didn’t care, they just wanted them to prevent the Queen from doing something she’ll later regret.

Back the Red Keep the sky had turned black, followed by the stars and moon. Y/n was in their bed chamber, getting ready for bed until they heard a knock on the door. “Come” they said as they finished putting on their night attire. It was Alicent, she had a look of distress and dried tears on her eyes. “Alicent? What’s the matter love?” they asked concern in their voice. Then they took the Queen’s hands guiding for her to sit on the bed. “Love?” they asked again, the Queen then hugged them tightly. They held her as they also felt a wet spot forming on their shoulder. “It is okay love” They murmured in her ear, trying to ease her a bit. This reminded them of that time when Alicent’s father had left. 

“They hurt him, my son” Alicent said as she continued to cry on their shoulder. Y/n knew full well what she ment. “I’m sorry” they admitted as they continue to hold the Queen. Poor Alicent, all her life she had been a misunderstood person, she only did what she was told and now she was suffering.

Y/n pulled away and got a look at the Queen’s face, seeing her puffy red eyes and tears. They wiped away their tears with their thumb “everything will be alright, I promise” they said as the Queen nodded and looked down at her hands.

“I just want to forget about everything. Forget that I am a Queen, forget that I have duties, just forget” she admitted as Y/n smiled, leaning closer and pressed a kiss on Alicent’s cheek bone. “We can forget about everything right now, just give me the order and I’ll do it Alicent” Y/n said as Alicent nodded “please Y/n” she said.

Both their night attire had been discarded to the floor, Alicent had been laying on the bed while Y/n had been pleasing her between her legs. The Queen moaned softly and carefully, not wanting to be loud. Y/n had worked their way onto the Queen, giving her all the pleasure she deserved. 

They lapped at their cunt, suckling on Alicent’s juices as the maiden on the bed had been squirming in pleasure. Finally they managed to get her to release herself.

Y/n pulled away seeing the mess they had caused, they crawled towards the Queen to get a good look at her highness. Then they grabbed Alicent’s left leg rising it up a bit.

They loved up to were her now wet cunt touched the Queen’s bare knee, slightly rubbing themselves on the Queen causing them to moan. Then they ran their hand up to feel the Queen’s right breast squeezing it, making her moan.

Then they moved their hand towards her womanhood. Using both her middle and ring finger to run circles around the woman’s delicate pearl. Alicent moaned at the feel of her abused pearl being touched once again.

Y/n continued to rub themselves on the her knee, making their cunt much wetter than before. “Your Grace” they moaned as they moved their fingers inside the Queen, making her gasp out loud, feeling their fingers stretch her out.

Y/n moved their fingers slowly but as they moved faster on the Queen’s knee, so did her fingers. “Oh! Gods be good!” Alicent moaned a bit more loud as she felt Y/n’s fingers move faster on her. Y/n let out a moan as her clit continued to ride on the maiden’s knee, they were close to an orgasm but they wanted it to release along with her majesty. 

Alicent reached up, abusing Y/n’s breasts, causing them to moan loudly feeling her hands touch her sensitive nipples. They moved her fingers faster, feeling the her Queen’s close release. “Y/n... I-I’m... I’m close!” she moaned a bit louder but before anyone could hear she was silenced by a kiss given to her by the one on top of her. 

She could taste herself in the kiss, then at the same time they both released themselves. Both their thighs shaking by the orgasm. Y/n removed herself from on top of her, they laid next to the Queen, both catching their breath.

“Thank you, Y/n” the Queen smiled as she was pulled by Y/n into a little spoon position. Stroking her hair while her head laid on her chest. “I love you  Alicent” Y/n said as Alicent looked up at them, looking into their eyes “I love you as well Y/n” she said leaning in for a final kiss.

[evanspresso]

she has the moon in her mind, that’s why stars spill off her lips.

note: a glimpse into the way they love.

Listen to that heated love

She wore moonlight like lingerie he thought. He scanned her soft features when looked up at the stars from where she was sitting, dangling her legs into the pool.

From where he swam he could see the way her legs swished through the water, her legs wet and her cheeks flushed as she took another sip of her wine. Evan’s muscles flexed while he moved his body against the water to get closer to her.

She bit her lip watching him swim towards her, his eyes boring into hers after scanning them over her body. “How’s the water?” She asks.

“Lonely.”

Y/n shivers at the way his voice rasps, the way it travels making butterflies erupt in her stomach as he heads her way.

Y/n’s heart flutters- feeling his fingertips caress her skin that’s under the water before he trails his hands up onto her thighs, spreading her legs so he can fit in between her just as perfect as he always does. This time she nearly gasps as she feels his hot breath fan against her sensitive skin.

“Come out then.” She trembled, running her fingers through his damp hair while she watches him smirk. “It’s lonely out here without you.”

Y/n holds her breath as he places his lips against her left knee, traveling them towards her inner thigh while his eyes challenge hers.

Y/n presses her lips together as she watched her boyfriend while her with his muscular arms and his toned chest. She can’t help but gasp as she feels his lips grace the inside of her thigh causing her to jump slightly as he brings his hands to grip into her hips.

“That’s no fun.” He playfully pouts. “Come join me.” He nips at her thigh again, making her squirm in his hold.

“It getting cold Evan, let’s just go inside and light the fireplace.”

Evan shakes his head no, dipping his fingertips into her squishy hips causing her to inhale sharply while he stands up tall. “I’ll keep you warm princess.”

Before she knows it he’s got his wet arms around her waist, pulling her into his chest and down into the water with him. They both gasp at the cool water covering them with ice cold kisses as she wraps her arms around his neck to cling into him for warmth and wrapping her legs around his torso.

“I’m still not warm.” She teased, placing her hand on his jaw to make him look at her.

He playfully rolls his eyes before dipping down to kiss her lips softly. Evan smiles against her lips, feeling her tighten her legs around him causing him to back up into the wall of the pool, the water swishing all around them as he moved.

The only thing that can be heard in the sounds if night around them are their lips dancing with one another and the water that covers them in their own personal and private cocoon.

She smiles before doing her favorite trick that always made him stirs Evan nearly saw stars as she unexpectedly pulled away from his lips causing his jaw to fall open fell open for more, watching y/n as she sucksonto his bottom lip before fully pulling away.

“You’re dangerous tonight.” He observed. “You underestimate the things I’d to to you right here. Right now.” He said making her shift herself against his hold.

He grunts into her neck making her nearly purr in his ear- his eyes growing dark while he turned them around to her back was against the wall.

He watches her shiver under his hold and he couldn’t help but kiss her cheek before nipping at her ear causing her to squeal out into a giggle.

“Can you warm me up now?” She nearly pleads.

[museinkco]

She has the moon in her mind, that's why stars spill off her lips.

[space-phonetic0]

The first thing that he becomes aware of is the chill. The second, is the soft cushiony fabric of which he is lying on.

He opens his eyes to pitch blackness, seeming to stretch on forever. He raises his right hand intending to touch his face, instead he crashes into something soft and silky, yet hard at the same time.

He opens his eyes only to see darkness. He reached out his hands and felt soft fabric. Upon further inspection. He realized he was trapped in a box, a coffin. Vomit rose in his throat, his head ached. As he began to claw at the ceiling of the coffin. Several fingernails were pulled off. Words slipped past his lips. quiet at first. Then a bit louder. “Bruce….. Bruce…..”.

What is this? where am I?

(Struggling to remember what happened.)

flashes of memories burned through his mind. blurry images of a purple suited man. with a horrific white face and blood red lips.

numbers counting down

pleading for the man who he considered his father to come and save him. wishing he could say goodby. wishing he could say thank you.

Where has Joker put me? Where is Bruce?

His mind was a blank. Everything was fuzzy and he was so dizzy. His whole body ached. All he could think was “OUT, I must get out”.

muscles and nerves remembering his robin training. he searched around for anything that would aid his escape. discovering his belt buckle. Jason, griped it between his index and middle fingers.

angling the buckle with the prong pointed up. Jason began stabbing and scratching the lid of the coffin. Ripping the soft silk and creating indentions in the polished oak.

Breaking through the top of the coffin. Dirt spilled on top of him. The dark earth was heavy. He took a gulping breath and swallowed only dirt. Desperately clawing his way to the top. blood leaking out of him colouring the earth. his throat burning

After what felt like eternity. He finally made it out into fresh air. Coughing up dirt. He gasped for air. Breaths coming in painful burning his lungs

He heaved himself up. Out of the ground. Rain was pelting down soaking him and making the dirt slippery and hard to grasp.

He fell over onto the muddy ground. Overwhelmed by the fuzzy thoughts coursing through his impaired brain. The sensation of the sludgy dirt beneath his skin was almost sickening. Making his skin crawl.

His suit was itchy to his oxygen deprived skin. His tie almost choking him.

Lurching and shivering, he slowly got to his knees. Shaky feet sinking into the ground as he stepped forward.

Jason moved his left foot forward. Nearly stumbled when his foot sank up to the ankle in mud.

His body felt numb and awkward. Like it was not his own. Close to vomiting he continued on. Walking slowly, stumbling around. The rain was still coming down mercilessly. Heavy drops slamming down onto his body.

Rain water was in his eyes. nearly blinding him. Thinking nothing, He continued through the graveyard observing the dirty stones sticking out of the earth.

His confused mind thought only one thing. "Get to Bruce"

Reaching the gate. He stumbled over the threshold.

Blindly reaching out he gripped the side of a brick wall. Following the wall until it ended. Next to an old church.

With difficulty, Jason raised his head toward the sky. spotting the moon over Gotham skyline.

suddenly, a ninja star flew past Jasons view of the moon. startled, Jason refocused his gaze onto the church. A young dark haired Arabian looking woman. was fighting several men dressed in assassins garb.

muscle memory took over. Jason sprang onto the nearest ninja. quickly disarming and knocking him out.

in a matter of minutes. Jason and the woman had subdued the assassins. Exhausted, the boy fell to his hands and knees, breathing heavily.

Talia, curious as to who had aided her in battle. Walked over to the disheveled boy. Kneeling down, she grasped the boys shoulders and lifted his head. Shock coursed through her. "Jason!!!!!!!"

The boy was resting fully against her now. How could this be? Questions swirled through her head. One thing was certain she had to take him back home with her.

the end.

id like to write more to this. when Talia puts Jason in the pit. his training and his time in Gotham. an idea I have is Jason doesn't go back to Gotham to seek revenge. but stays with the all caste. something happens and he has to come back to Gotham. he doesn't want bruce to find out he's alive so does his best to lay low.

im making no promises. so we'll see.

[floralpoeticss]

She has the moon in her mind, that's why stars spill off her lips.

[m00nbap]

She has the moon in her mind, that’s why stars spill off her lips. 🪐 満月があなたを愛しているなら、どうして星のことを心配するの? 𓈒 ☆ ࣪ ࣭ ✦ 🍵 ｡ ﾟ ･ ⋆ ♡ or ↺ if save !

[viacursecasting]

Lend Me Your Voice.

An Arte X Ivy Drabble

"I had a feeling I'd find you here."

Sitting before his ivory grand piano adorned with gold embellishments, Arte glanced over his shoulder, watching as a royal blue arachnid emerged from the shadows of the empty theatre.

The feline sighed with relief. His bodyguard was always a welcome sight. "That predictable, am I?"

"I'm just relieved you're alright, seeing as you're always running off on your own."

He gave a sheepish smile. "Sorry."

Ivy didn't seem to mind. Instead she scanned their surroundings. Every surface—the music stand, the floor, even across some of the piano keys—seemed to be littered with sheets that were either crumpled or scribbled on. "Did a tornado run through here?"

Arte chuckled. "You could say that." Then his face became solemn. "I'm just having trouble writing this song."

Ivy marveled at the countless papers that engulfed them, brushing her fingers over bits of his elegant handwriting. "I didn't know you were a songwriter."

Arte tinted. "I wouldn't say that. I just... write words that are meant to be sung."

Ivy rolled her eyes. She then proceeded to comb through a few pages, finding one full of neat music notes and lyrics. "Is this your latest draft?"

Arte nodded. Then his ears perked as she hummed under her breath, seemingly getting a feel of the rhythm.

At some point he nervously cleared his throat. "I don't suppose... you'd sing it for me?"

Ivy's heart seized up. "Me?"

Arte let out an amused huff. "Do you know any other spiders with the voice of an angel?"

Ivy felt her cheeks grow warm beneath her mask. "Kingsley..."

"Please?" He gazed at her with wide cyan saucers. "I would be forever grateful."

Ivy's body was wrought with anxiety. But when she peered into his crystal pools, a wave of peace washed over her.

She sighed in acquiescence. "Just this once."

Arte gasped excitedly, hurriedly brushing away the stray balls of paper covering his keys, stretching his hands in preparation. He then delicately placed his fingers on the glistening ivories, looking up at the spider standing beside him. "Whenever you're ready."

Ivy took a deep breath to calm her nerves. Then she slowly, almost ceremoniously pulled down her mask, revealing pearly skin and full azure lips.

Arte swallowed, awestruck by her beauty. No matter how many times he saw her, it always felt like the first.

Ivy nodded, which prompted Arte's fingers to gently kiss the first few notes, setting the tone for a melody full of longing, of yearning, akin to a restless lover.

Then, her lips parted:

It's easy to push me away from you

Easy to say you want be left on your own

Yet somehow I can't help but see how your eyes shy away

Your hands seal the entrance and path to your heart

Arte's heart swelled at the sound of her voice as he found it more and more difficult to concentrate, mesmerized. "Ethereal" was not a word that did her justice. Her voice seemed to transcend the heavens, finding its place among the sparkling stars, lit by the beaming moon. He felt like he was dreaming, waltzing in the sky of her song.

But you know, I just want you as you are

Just the you that I see right before me

It's all that has been on my mind

He felt a pang in his core, for that verse was painfully true for him. But the way her voice gave life to his lyrics was worth it. Words that started as buds now blossomed under the sun of her melody.

Lend me your voice

Let me see your face, let me start to show you what I see

Bring me close

Let me feel the beat of your heart, the secret you bury

Arte couldn't help but close his eyes in an effort to keep his tears from spilling, to recall her rosy scent, to picture her in his arms...

Just let me come close to your heart~!

Her last note, high as his euphoria, left him breathless. Nearly faltering from his awe, his fingers managed to dance across the last keys before slowly coming to rest.

Then the couple embraced the bittersweet silence that delicately trailed the final tone.

Eventually Ivy looked up from the music sheet, slightly out of breath. "Was that good enough?"

Arte was dumbfounded. "Good enough?" he echoed as he stood before her. "Ivy..." He put a hand over his chest in an attempt to calm his racing heart. "I can't explain... Your voice—! I'm just... Wow," he breathed.

Ivy was flattered, though she quickly put her mask back on as she eyed him suspiciously. "Why does part of me think this was all a ruse to hear me sing?"

Arte chuckled. "Come now, Ivy," he said as he subtly kicked away some of the crumpled pages that he knew were blank:

"I'm not that clever."