#Just as vibrant and beautiful as Ghost remembers

[lemonwrap]

Imagine that Ghost lives long after Soap dies. When Ghost finally dies and reunites with Soap, he finds that they’re both the same age they were right before Soap died—because that was the happiest time of both of them had ever been in their entire lives.

[seriiousgiirl]

𝐼𝓉 𝓌𝒶𝓈 𝓁𝑜𝓋𝑒

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ ݁𝒿𝒶𝓂𝑒𝓈 𝓈𝓊𝓃𝒹𝑒𝓇𝓁𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝓍 𝓉𝑒𝒶𝒸𝒽𝑒𝓇!𝓇���𝒶𝒹𝑒𝓇.⊹ ₊ ݁.

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ 𝒸𝑜𝓃𝓉𝑒𝓃𝓉 . ⊹ ₊ ݁. alternate universe - canon divergence, post-silent Hill 2, angst and fluff and smut, touch-starved, redemption, grief, mourning, psychological trauma and horror, mutual pining, James adopted Laura, age difference, smut, vaginal sex, rough sex, rough kissing, aftercare, daddy kink, James deserves his happy ending, James is desperate and pathetic, based on the Silent Hill Games and mostly the remake

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ 𝓈𝓊𝓂𝓂𝒶𝓇𝓎 . ⊹ ₊ ݁. Three years after the harrowing events in Silent Hill, James Sunderland has survived the haunting memories of his past but carries the heavy burden of grief and guilt. Adopting Laura, James strives to create a normal life for them both, but the echoes of his former life linger, haunting him in moments of solitude.

As he navigates the challenges of fatherhood and a corporate job, James grapples with PTSD and the lingering shadows of his late wife, Mary. His daily interactions are fraught with anxiety, especially when it comes to Laura's teacher, Y/n. Young, vibrant, and filled with warmth. But as Y/n becomes an unexpected source of comfort and tension in James's life. He is drawn to her kindness and beauty, yet he feels undeserving of her attention, burdened by the ghosts of his past.

When Y/n reaches out with genuine concern for James's well-being, he wrestles with feelings of guilt, lust and longing, torn between the desire for connection and the fear of betraying Mary's memory. As James's pent-up frustrations bubble to the surface, he finds himself navigating a complicated emotional landscape where love, loss, and redemption intertwine.

❛ Part 2 ⋅ masterlist ⋅ ao3 ⋅ requests ❜

➜ ┊ a/n: Hello everyone! After years of being more or less in the Silent Hill fandom, the remake rather inspired me... :') After seeing how cute James is in it, I felt like I was rediscovering his character. The story is a bit different from what we usually see, but I hope it will appeal to the (few, I don't think many would be interested in a silent hill fanfic) people who read it.

➜ ┊: chapter 1/?.

James woke up again, his body snapping upright in bed, his breath ragged and uneven as if he had just surfaced from drowning. His chest rose and fell with frantic breaths that refused to calm, his heart hammering against his ribcage like a prisoner desperate to escape. The room around him was silent, still, and blanketed in shadows, the faintest silver glow of the moon seeping through the thin, worn curtains. It painted his surroundings in an eerie light, enough to make out the vague shapes of his furniture but not enough to chase away the weight of the darkness.

He knew it was early—much too early. The alarm on his nightstand wouldn’t go off for hours, not until the unforgiving numbers clicked over to 7 a.m. He set it religiously, every night, clinging to the hope that one day he’d wake naturally to the sound, as if that simple act could restore some semblance of normalcy to his broken life. 

But that never happened.

James never woke peacefully anymore. His body, his mind, refused to grant him that mercy. Instead, he jolted awake in a cold sweat, his body rigid, his pulse racing. Each time, it felt as though he was being pulled from some unseen nightmare—ripped out of a hellish dreamscape that he couldn’t remember clearly but always left its mark. The fear, the panic, the suffocating sense of dread stayed with him, lingering like smoke in the air long after his eyes had adjusted to the dim glow of his bedroom.

He pressed his palm against his face, wiping away the sheen of sweat that clung to his skin. His body felt tense, coiled like a spring that had been wound too tightly. His muscles ached from the constant strain, from the battles he fought every night within the confines of his mind. The nightmares weren’t just dreams. They were fragments of a past that refused to stay buried, haunting him in the dead of night when the world outside was quiet and his mind had no distractions to keep the demons at bay.

The medication bottles on his bedside table gleamed faintly in the moonlight, their labels worn from use. He reached for them out of habit, his fingers brushing the cool surface, but he didn’t open them. No matter how many pills he swallowed, how many prescriptions doctors wrote, nothing ever worked. Sleep was supposed to be a sanctuary, a refuge from the waking world, but for James, it had become another battleground.

He let his hand drop back to his lap, staring down at his shaking fingers. He could feel the tension still coursing through him, the residue of whatever nightmare had dragged him awake. His body hadn’t yet realised he was safe, that it was just a dream, and the adrenaline still pumped through his veins. Every night, it was the same—this restless terror that clung to him, trapping him in a cycle he couldn’t escape. He longed for sleep, yet feared it in equal measure, knowing that the darkness of his subconscious held more horrors than the light of day ever could.

For a moment, he considered lying back down, closing his eyes, and trying again. 

But the thought alone made his stomach twist.

With a sigh, James decided to give up on sleep altogether. There was no use lying there, waiting for his heart to calm down or for the remnants of his nightmare to fade. His legs still trembled as he swung them over the side of the bed, the cool floor beneath him grounding him just enough to pull himself up. The shadows in the room seemed to shift as he stood, though he knew it was his mind playing tricks again. He had long stopped trusting the darkness.

He moved carefully, trying to stay silent as he made his way to the door, not wanting to wake Laura. She was the only constant in his life now, the only reason he hadn’t completely unravelled. But even the thought of her, sleeping peacefully down the hall, wasn’t enough to ease the tremor in his hands. As he stepped out of the bedroom, the familiar creak of the floorboards echoed too loud in the silence of the house, and for a fleeting moment, his breath hitched.

Sometimes, in these quiet hours, he could swear he heard them—the monsters. That same sickening creaking sound they made, their grotesque forms dragging across the cold. Or worse, the heavy, slow scrap of metal—a blade being dragged along the ground. His body tensed, instinctively waiting for the ominous presence of that thing— he came to call Pyramid Head. He hadn’t seen it in three years, but its presence still lingered, like a ghost lurking in the corners of his mind. His chest tightened as he imagined that scraping sound growing closer, louder, but he knew… or at least, he tried to convince himself it wasn’t real. Not anymore.

On the worst days, though, it wasn’t just the monsters. 

Sometimes, he would hear her—Mary. Her voice, soft and sweet, like the Mary he remembered before everything went wrong, calling out to him. It always started the same way, a gentle whisper at first, like she was in the next room, waiting for him. And each time, it grew louder, more urgent, until it was a siren’s call, relentless and cruel. It was enough to make his heart stop, to make him question everything, and then he’d remember—he knew where that call would lead. Straight into oblivion. Straight into the abyss of his own guilt.

On other nights, he could swear he felt Maria—her warmth next to him in bed, the way her body would press against his. It was so vivid, so painfully real, as though she hadn’t died in his arms multiple times, as though Silent Hill hadn’t swallowed her whole. She had been a ghost, a reflection of everything he had lost, and yet… sometimes she felt alive in those moments. His doctors told him it was all hallucinations, the remnants of trauma deeply embedded in his mind. Certified and explained away in clinical terms, but knowing that didn’t change how real it felt in those fleeting, terrifying seconds.

Even now, as he stood in the hallway, his breath uneven, James couldn’t shake the feeling that somewhere—beneath the layers of his fragile reality—the horrors were still there, watching, waiting.

James padded quietly into the kitchen, his bare feet brushing against the cool tiles as he reached for a glass. The water flowed smoothly from the tap, cool and refreshing, and he drank it straight, the crispness washing over him. It helped clear his mind, if only for a moment, pushing back the lingering echoes of the night’s terrors. 

After finishing the glass, he flicked on the small lamp in the living room, its soft glow spilling light across the space, chasing away the oppressive darkness. He made his way to the couch, settling himself in front of the window, where the city still lay shrouded in early morning silence. Outside, the world was just beginning to stir, but here in this moment, everything felt suspended in time.

They had moved far away from Silent Hill, away from Maine altogether, as if he was still trying to escape the town’s haunting pull. When Laura had expressed her desire for a place near the coast, saying she wanted to feel the warmth of the sun and breathe in the salty scent of the ocean, he had obliged her wishes. It was the least he could do for the little girl who had become his lifeline, the one bright spot in his otherwise dark world. It had taken time, but he had learned to appreciate the small things—like the sound of waves crashing against the shore and the way the sunlight danced on the water’s surface.

He pulled his journal from the side table, the worn leather cover familiar against his fingers. The pages were filled with thoughts, memories, and an ongoing dialogue with himself—one that his doctor had encouraged. Writing was meant to help him sort through his feelings, to separate reality from the nightmares that still clung to him like shadows. It was a way to document the moments that felt tangible, grounding him in the present.

With the pen poised above the page, he took a deep breath, letting the silence of the morning wrap around him. 

Date: [XX/10/1993]

Another night of waking up in a cold sweat. The dreams feel heavier lately, more vivid. I can still hear Mary’s voice sometimes, like she’s calling out to me. I know it’s not real, but the longing… It’s hard to escape. I need to remember that I’m here now. That I have Laura. She needs me to be present. I need to plan my day—take her to the beach, show her the tide pools, maybe? She deserves to explore, to laugh, to feel alive. Maybe it will help me too.

James paused, staring at the words he’d just written. The ink was still wet, and he felt the weight of each line pressing against his chest, a mixture of hope and dread swirling within him. 

He continued, allowing his thoughts to flow onto the page.

I’ve been thinking about the way the ocean looks at dawn. It’s a beautiful sight, the horizon slowly illuminated by the first light of day. I want to share that with Laura. She deserves to see the world as it is. Maybe if I can show her that, it’ll help me remember what it feels like to be alive, too.

He turned the page, feeling the familiar texture beneath his fingertips, grounding him in a moment that felt too fragile. The nightmares are starting to blur again. It’s like I’m drifting between memories and dreams. I know I should talk to Dr. Fischer about it, but I hate feeling so exposed. Every time I sit across from him, it’s like peeling back layers of skin. I don’t want to keep reliving the past, but I also know I can’t pretend it doesn’t exist. It’s a part of me now—part of what makes me who I am.

But sometimes, I wonder if I’m doing enough. If I’m enough. Laura is so full of life—she deserves happiness, yet I feel like a ghost in my own home. The laughter that fills this place is often followed by a silence that weighs heavily on me, as if I’m a spectator in my own life, watching a play where I don’t belong. 

He paused, squeezing his eyes shut for a moment, fighting against the swell of loneliness that threatened to overwhelm him. 

Some days, I can still hear Mary’s laughter, the way it used to light up the room, but now it’s a whisper in the wind. I wish I could reach out to her, ask her for forgiveness, tell her how much I miss her. But she’s gone, and I’m left with nothing but my guilt and the memories that won’t let me go. It’s a bitter irony—I have another chance at life with Laura, yet I feel more alone than ever.

I thought time would heal me, that the scars would fade, but each day feels like a new reminder of what I’ve lost. I watch Laura play, her laughter cutting through the silence, and it fills me with joy and pain all at once. I want to protect her, to shield her from the darkness I carry. But how can I do that when I’m still fighting my own battles?

Anyway, plan for today: Take Laura to the beach, explore the tide pools, and have a picnic.

As he continued to write, the rhythm of his thoughts began to settle, the initial chaos giving way to clarity. He documented everything he hoped to achieve that day, the things that could distract him. 

After some time, the soft patter of small feet echoed in the hallway, and Laura emerged from her room, her hair tousled and her eyes still heavy with sleep. She settled next to James on the couch, curling her legs beneath her as she leaned against his shoulder, still waking up. 

“Did you even sleep at all?” she mumbled, her voice thick with the remnants of slumber. 

James chuckled softly, the sound warm and gentle. “Just a little. You know how it is,” he replied, glancing down at her. The early morning light filtered through the window, illuminating her features and casting a soft glow around them. 

“Not again,” Laura sighed, shaking her head in mock exasperation. “You should really take better care of yourself, you know.”

James smiled, closing his journal and setting it aside, feeling the comforting weight of their shared silence. His relationship with Laura had evolved significantly since that first day they met. In the beginning, there was an undeniable tension, a wall between them built from grief and uncertainty. Laura had been sharp-tongued and defiant, often testing his patience with her stubbornness. But over time, that wall had crumbled, brick by brick, revealing a bond that had become more profound and genuine. 

“Maybe I just like the quiet,” he teased, nudging her lightly with his shoulder. “It gives me time to think.”

Laura rolled her eyes, though a smile tugged at her lips. “Yeah, right. More like you spend it worrying about everything,” she shot back, her familiar sass coming through. But he could sense the softness in her demeanour, the way she had begun to let him in, and it filled him with gratitude.

There were still moments when she wouldn’t call him “Dad”—it felt too heavy, too final—but there had been instances where the word slipped out, once or twice. The first time he had felt a rush of warmth and something almost like fear at her words. It had caught him off guard, pulling at his heartstrings in a way he hadn’t expected. It was one night after a particularly rough day at school. 

The kids had been relentless, and when she had come home, her eyes glistened with unshed tears. She had cried so much that night, seeking solace in his arms, and in that moment of vulnerability, she had whispered it—Dad—like it was a fragile promise, something she wanted to believe in.

He had held her tightly, whispering reassurances as she poured out her heart. It was one of the hardest days for both of them, but that single word had changed everything, reinforcing their bond in ways he never thought possible. 

The shrill sound of James’s alarm cut through the quiet morning, signalling that it was finally 7 a.m. He groaned softly, the sudden noise pulling him from the lingering remnants of his thoughts. “Time to get moving,” he muttered to himself before swinging his legs off the couch and standing up.

“Laura,” he called out gently, “you need to get ready for school.” 

Laura groaned but slowly pushed herself upright, her hair sticking up in tousled spikes. “Do I have to?” she whined, rubbing her eyes.

“Yes, you do,” James replied with a chuckle, heading into the kitchen to start breakfast. He could already hear her muttering under her breath as she dragged herself away from the comfort of the couch, but he couldn’t help but smile at her antics. As he prepared breakfast, the scent of eggs and toast filled the air, mixing with the cool October breeze that slipped in through the slightly ajar window. 

He could hear the soft shuffle of Laura getting ready in the background, her footsteps echoing through the hallway.

When breakfast was ready, he set the table, placing a plate in front of her just as she joined him. They ate together in comfortable silence, the clinking of forks the only sound between them for a few moments. 

“So, there’s this kid in class…” Laura began, her voice a mix of enthusiasm and worry. As she recounted her stories, James listened attentively, nodding along as she shared her concerns about a class project and the kids who were teasing her again. She spoke with an earnestness that made him proud, she was a smart little girl.

“...and I do think the teacher likes me a lot,” she finished, her voice dropping slightly, smiling shyly.

James reached across the table, placing a comforting hand on hers. “You’re doing great, Laura. I’m so proud of you,” he encouraged, hoping to convey his support. 

Once they finished breakfast, he cleared the table while she dashed back to her room to grab her backpack. The familiar morning routine helped ground him, a stark contrast to the chaos that often filled his mind.

Then, James returned to his room, feeling the familiar weight of his thoughts returning. He turned on the water for a shower, the warm spray washing over him, almost as if he were trying to cleanse himself of his sins and guilt. Each droplet felt like it could wash away a little more of his guilt, his pain, and his memories.

After his shower, he stood in front of the mirror, towel drying his ash-blond hair and tidying it up, shaving his stubble. The cold air from outside seeped through the window, sending a shiver down his spine as he dressed for the day. He pulled on a simple shirt and jeans. 

But as James stood in front of his closet, the morning light filtering through the curtains, his gaze fell upon his signature khaki jacket hanging quietly amidst his other clothes. For a moment, he hesitated, his heart tightening.

The jacket felt heavy with the weight of the past. He recalled the feel of it against his skin as he navigated the fog-laden streets, the chill of the air contrasting sharply with the warmth it provided. It had shielded him from the elements, yes, but it had also cloaked him in the pain of his choices, the guilt that clung to him like a second skin. 

James swallowed hard, staring at the jacket, the muted fabric whispering secrets of the past. He could almost hear the echoes of Mary’s voice, feel the pang of loss that accompanied every memory. It was as if the jacket was tainted, infused with the blood and tears of that time—but also her scent, her warmth and gentle touch.

Perhaps… Today, he could indulge himself.

He took a deep breath, fighting against the swell of anxiety that rose within him. This jacket is just a piece of clothing, James, he reminded himself, yet it felt like so much more. With a decisive moment, he pulled it from the hanger and slipped it on, the familiar weight settling comfortably on his shoulders. 

James looked at himself in the mirror, the reflection staring back at him was a man still fighting battles. With a shameful sigh, he adjusted the collar, feeling the jacket’s fabric against his skin. When he stepped outside, the brisk October wind greeted him, a sharp contrast to the warmth inside. 

Laura stood at the door, a look of surprise mixed with concern crossing her face.

“Why are you still wearing that jacket?” she asked, her eyes narrowing slightly as she gestured to the fabric. “You know… after everything that happened in...” She couldn’t bring herself to say the name of the haunting town.

James shrugged, a faint smile creeping onto his face. “I still like it. It’s comfortable.” 

She rolled her eyes but couldn’t suppress a grin. “You’re so weird, James,” she teased, nudging him with her shoulder as they made their way down the path toward the car.

“Weird or not, let’s get you to school on time little girl,” he said, his tone quite firm. Together, they stepped into the brisk morning air, ready to face whatever the day had in store.

‧───────────────

Dropping Laura off at school had become a routine, but for James, it was anything but simple. As they approached the bustling entrance, he felt a familiar tightening in his chest, a sense of dread creeping over him like a heavy fog. It wasn’t the school itself or the noise of children chattering and laughing; it was the attention he attracted.

In a small town where traditional family structures were the norm, a single father with a daughter who didn’t even remotely resemble him stood out like a sore thumb. James had chosen to keep his past private, and he was grateful that Laura’s adoption remained a secret. He avoided any conversations that might lead to questions about their relationship or as to why he was alone, fearing the scrutiny that came with revealing the truth. After all, in the eyes of the world, he was just a man dropping off his daughter, and that was how he wanted it to stay.

As they parked and stepped out of the car, the sun shone brightly, but it felt cold against his skin. He could already sense the gazes of the mothers lingering on him as he helped Laura with her backpack. Their eyes were sharp, curious, sizing him up like sharks circling prey, ready to pounce at the slightest sign of vulnerability. James kept his head down, focusing on Laura as she adjusted her straps and prepared to head inside.

“Have a good day, okay?” he said, forcing a smile as she turned to him, her enthusiasm bubbling over as she waved goodbye.

“Bye, James!” she called, her voice full of cheer as she dashed toward the school gates, her ponytail swinging behind her. 

With her back turned, James felt the full weight of the mothers’ stares. He could almost hear the whispers beneath their breath, speculating about him—why he was alone, where Laura’s mother was, and why they didn’t look alike. It was all too easy to imagine the conclusions they would jump to, and he wanted no part of it. 

Every step he took toward his car felt like walking through a minefield. He avoided eye contact at all costs, keeping his gaze fixed on the ground as he navigated through the throngs of parents and children. Conversations buzzed around him, but he focused solely on his breathing, trying to ignore the anxiety tightening around his chest.

As he passed a small group of mothers standing near the entrance, he couldn’t help but catch snippets of their conversations, even as he tried to block them out.

“Did you see him? He looks so sad,” one of them whispered, her voice dripping with faux concern. “Who could leave such a handsome man alone?”

James felt a familiar flush creep up his neck, a mix of embarrassment and irritation. He quickened his pace, but their comments followed him like shadows.

“I know, right? A single father is so sexy,” another chimed in. “I wish my husband was as committed to our son’s school life.”

He clenched his jaw, biting back a retort. The last thing he wanted was to be part of their gossip, yet he was helpless against the words that floated through the air like smoke. Each compliment felt like a reminder of everything he wanted to avoid—attention, scrutiny, and the inevitable questions.

As he reached the edge of the parking lot, he heard another mother say, “I heard there’s a parents-teacher meeting tonight. Can you imagine? He’ll probably be all alone again. It’s such a shame.”

The words hit him like a cold slap, and he paused, taking a moment to gather himself. The thought of attending the meeting, sent a fresh wave of anxiety crashing over him. Why did they have to bring that up now?

He finally reached his car, fumbling for his keys in his pocket as he tried to push the whispers from his mind. The weight of judgement lingered in the air, but he didn’t look back. He slipped into the driver’s seat, exhaling slowly as he gripped the steering wheel. “Just another day,” he murmured to himself, willing his heart to calm. 

James had avoided women religiously since he came back, erecting barriers around himself that felt both protective and suffocating. The loss of Mary had left a gaping hole in his heart, one that he couldn’t bear to fill with anyone else. Allowing himself to indulge in the warmth of another felt like an insult to her memory.

In the years following her death, he had retreated into himself, building walls high enough to keep the world—and the painful reminders of his past—at bay. He threw himself into fatherhood, pouring all his energy into raising Laura and ensuring she felt loved and secure. She was his anchor, the one bright spot in the dark fog of his grief. Yet, in avoiding connections with women, he had inadvertently created a deep well of pent-up frustrations within himself—frustrations that simmered just beneath the surface, threatening to boil over at any moment.

Every time he caught himself looking at a woman, whether it was a fleeting glance at a passerby or—especially a longer gaze at Laura’s teacher during a school event, he felt a wave of guilt wash over him. What am I doing? He would ask himself, immediately diverting his eyes, as if the very act of looking was a betrayal of the love he once held dear. He had convinced himself that he wasn’t ready to move forward, but in truth, he was terrified of what that would mean. 

In the quiet moments, when he was alone with his thoughts, he couldn’t help but acknowledge the weight of his solitude. The nights grew long and lonely, and sometimes he found himself longing for the comfort of another person—a hand to hold, a voice to soothe him. 

But the thought of crossing that line felt insurmountable, like stepping onto a precipice with no way back. He often wondered if this self-imposed exile was healthy or just a way of avoiding the inevitable. Deep down, he knew that if he ever did let someone in, it would come with a torrent of emotions he wasn’t prepared to face—the guilt, the grief, and the fear of moving on without forgetting.

Sometimes, when the darkness of the night enveloped him and the oppressive solitude weighed heavily upon his chest, James found himself struggling to resist his deepest, most shameful urges. Alone in the dim light of his bedroom, the air thick with silence, he would reach for the only source of warmth he had left—his own body.

But every time he started to jerk himself, trying to think about anyone other than Mary, he would falter. His thoughts would slip, no matter how hard he tried to redirect them. The moment he ventured into the realm of fantasy, attempting to conjure images of the warmth he longed for, his mind would betray him. Instead of the embrace of another, he would see Mary’s face—her soft smile, the way her eyes sparkled with mischief, the lightness in her laughter that had once filled their home. The memory of her enveloped him, suffocating and punishing him in its intensity, and he would feel a deep-seated shame clawing at his insides.

But jerking off while thinking about his dead wife, the one he had killed, felt utterly wrong. 

With a trembling hand, he'd stroke his hardening cock, trying to drown out the memories that haunted him. But no matter how hard he tried to push them away, they always crept back in, taking over his mind and filling him with an overwhelming sense of guilt. Images of Mary would flood his vision, her soft smile and sparkling eyes etched into his mind, along with the lightness of her laughter that once filled their home.

As he stroked faster, his breaths coming in ragged gasps, he could feel the pressure building inside him. But just as he was about to reach the edge of ecstasy, he would see her face again, and the guilt would consume him. How could he possibly find pleasure in this, knowing what he had done to her? 

The guilt was overwhelming, flooding his senses as he would try to push it all away, but it clung to him like a shadow. Tears would fill his eyes, hot and stinging, blurring his vision as the shame washed over him. He would cry, feeling pathetic and broken, as if indulging in his own body was another betrayal on a long list he had made in his mind. How could I even think of anyone else? He would chastise himself, the guilt wrapping around his heart like a vice, squeezing tighter until it became unbearable.

Knowing that he could never truly find solace in this act, James would eventually release his warm cum spilling onto his hand and stomach. But even in the aftermath of his orgasm, the guilt remained, and he would lie there, spent and broken, wondering how he could ever redeem himself.

It was a cycle of longing and despair that left him feeling more isolated than before. He would swipe at his tears, but they would keep coming, relentless and unyielding. The echoes of his cries seemed to linger in the air, a haunting reminder that he was still trapped in a cycle of grief that he could never escape…

‧───────────────

The day had finally drawn to a close, and the muted hum of office chatter began to fade as the fluorescent lights overhead flickered in their final moments. James gathered his belongings, the familiar weight of his briefcase resting heavily in his hand. The corporate world had wrapped around him like a well-worn coat, the same job he had held before, one that felt both calming and predictable. 

It paid well enough to keep the bills at bay and provided a stable life for him and Laura, allowing him to indulge her little whims—the occasional treat, a new book or doll, or even a day out at the beach. 

As he waved goodbye to his coworkers, offering polite smiles and half-hearted chuckles, he couldn’t help but feel a twinge of isolation. Their lives seemed so vibrant, filled with laughter and casual conversations about weekend plans, while he felt like an outsider peering in. Part of him wished he could simply slip away unnoticed, disappearing into the anonymity of the evening. But the thought of the upcoming parent-teacher meeting loomed over him like a dark cloud, the spectre of his insecurities rising to the surface. 

What if Laura’s teacher had concerns about her progress? What if she brought up issues he was completely unaware of? The prospect of engaging in a discussion that could highlight his shortcomings as a parent filled him with an unfamiliar anxiety. He recalled how he had struggled to help her with her homework due to his absent mind, the frustration evident in both their faces as they would argue over James’ implications. Laura would always end up saying that she wished she had a better family…

As he walked through the now empty parking lot, James’s mind drifted to the scenario of the meeting. Maybe it was a bit late, and he secretly hoped Laura’s teacher wouldn’t want to linger past the working usual hour to talk with him. He envisioned himself slipping away, feigning an urgent call or an unforeseen obligation, but guilt gnawed at him, tugging at his conscience. 

He couldn’t let Laura down; she had come to rely on him, and he owed it to her to at least try.

“Just get through it,” he muttered to himself, shaking his head as if to clear the impending doubts swirling in his mind. The crisp October air washed over him like a cleansing wave, invigorating him for just a moment. Inhaling deeply, he felt the coolness slice through the tension that had built up in his chest throughout the day, if only temporarily.

Sliding into the driver’s seat of his ageing car, he turned the key in the ignition, the familiar rumble reassuring him, if only slightly. He glanced at the clock on the dashboard; he still had a little time before he needed to pick Laura up from school. As he drove toward the school, the streets blurred by in a rush of colors, and he allowed himself to mentally prepare for the meeting. 

Maybe he could muster enough courage by the time he arrived, but deep down, he couldn’t shake the nagging feeling that this meeting would push him closer to confronting the ghosts of his past—something he had been desperately trying to avoid.

Thoughts of Mary flitted through his mind, uninvited yet persistent. What would she think of him now? Would she be proud of how he was trying to raise Laura, or would she shake her head in disappointment? These questions haunted him as he navigated the familiar streets. He tightened his grip on the steering wheel, trying to steady the whirlwind of emotions roiling within him. 

The school building came into view, and he parked in a spot near the entrance. As he sat there for a moment, staring at the looming structure that housed his daughter’s daily adventures. With a deep breath, he pushed open the car door, stepping out into the cool evening air. 

As he approached the entrance, he reminded himself that this was part of the job of being a parent—a role he was still desperately trying to fully embrace. After all, it was true she deserved more than a father lost in his own grief.

As he approached the school gate, he spotted her standing there, the last child waiting to be picked up. His heart sank at the sight; he had hoped to arrive earlier, to be there for her when the final bell rang. A wave of guilt washed over him, but when Laura turned and her face lit up with a smile, that guilt was momentarily pushed aside.

At least she wasn’t angry. 

“James!” she called out, her voice bright and cheerful, as she stretched out her hand toward him. He could see a small backpack slung over her shoulder, and his heart swelled at how she looked—so much like a little girl embracing the world, unbothered by the worries that often plagued him.

“Hey,” he replied, kneeling slightly to take her small hand in his. 

As he thanked the school attendant, a friendly woman with kind eyes who had watched over Laura, he glanced around, hoping to catch a glimpse of her teacher. He didn’t see anyone lingering by the entrance, and a relieved sigh escaped him. Perhaps she had decided to leave, not waiting for him to discuss whatever concerns she may have had about Laura. That was one less thing for him to handle, and he felt a slight weight lift off his shoulders.

“Let’s go home, shall we?” he suggested, his tone light as he turned to lead Laura away. The sight of her eager nod and bright smile made his heart feel lighter, even if just for a moment. He began to walk toward the car, feeling a sense of normalcy return to him—until a soft voice called out behind him.

“Mr. Sunderland!” 

Here’s an expansion on James' perception of you:

James turned, the sound of your voice pulling him back from his thoughts. You were striding toward him, your expression a mix of determination and urgency, the late afternoon light catching in your soft hair. 

There was something striking about your presence that always made his heart race, even amidst the rising anxiety he felt at these interactions. It was as if you carried a warmth with you, an energy that seemed to radiate in the space around you, igniting a flicker of something long dormant within him.

“I was just about to leave,” you said, a hint of breathlessness in your tone as you approached. “I wanted to talk to you before you went. Is this a good time?” You looked unsure.

James glanced at Laura, who was watching the exchange with curious eyes. He felt the familiar knot of anxiety twist in his stomach but nodded, trying to mask his apprehension with a calm demeanour. “Sure, I have a moment.”

“Laura’s been doing really well, by the way,” you continued, your voice lightening as you spoke about his daughter. “She’s incredibly bright and has made some good friends this semester. I’m really proud of her progress.”

James felt a flicker of warmth at your praise. He was grateful to see Laura thriving, especially after the rough patches they had navigated together. “Thank you. I know she’s been working hard,” he replied, glancing down at her, who was beaming at your words.

“But…” you paused, your tone shifting slightly. “There are some areas where she might need a bit more support. I think if we work together, we can help her really shine.”

James felt a wave of gratitude and unease wash over him. While he wanted to support Laura, the idea of deeper involvement with her teaching felt daunting. “What do you suggest?”

Your eyes met his, and he felt a strange mix of comfort and vulnerability in that gaze. You began outlining a few ideas, your passion for teaching evident in your animated gestures. He found himself hanging on your words, drawn in by the way you spoke.

As you began to speak about Laura’s progress, he couldn't help but take in the little details—the way your eyes sparkled when you talked about the kids, the way your hands moved animatedly as you explained your thoughts, and the curve of your soft pink lips. It struck him how youthful and beautiful you looked, filled with a vibrancy that he found both comforting and terrifying. 

He had known you for years since Laura started school, but he had always kept his distance, avoiding lingering too long in your presence. Every encounter felt like a double-edged sword; he wanted to connect, to know you better, but the fear of what that meant held him back. Your passion for teaching shone through, and it was evident that you genuinely cared for each child, especially his daughter. 

Yet, for James, that made you all the more dangerous.  It was a kind of warmth that he couldn’t dare to approach or touch, as if it would burn his skin. Your laughter and bright smiles were like sunlight piercing through the clouds, illuminating the shadows that loomed over his heart. 

But it also reminded him of how far removed he was from that happiness. 

The innocence and light you carried felt worlds away from the darkness he had endured. It made him question if he was even deserving of your kindness, let alone your attention—even if it was strictly professional. You had a purity about you that felt both inviting and forbidding. It was the kind of innocence that reminded him of everything he had hoped for once—everything he felt unworthy of now. How could someone like you, who radiated joy and hope, ever understand the darkness that clung to him? The guilt and despair that wrapped around his heart like a vice? 

Yet, as you continued, he realised that part of him didn’t want this moment to end. Just a short while ago, he had dreaded this conversation, but now he found himself wishing to listen to your soft voice all night long.

As you concluded your thoughts about Laura, your smile remained bright, and for a moment, James caught himself wishing he could linger just a bit longer in your presence, absorbing the warmth you exuded. But the instinct to retreat kicked in, a familiar defence mechanism rising to shield him from the vulnerability he felt around you. 

“Thanks for the feedback,” he said, forcing a smile as he tried to mask the storm of emotions brewing inside him. “I appreciate you taking the time.”

You smiled back, but there was a flicker of something in your eyes—curiosity, concern? 

He couldn’t quite decipher it. 

As you stood there, a moment of silence stretched between you, and James noticed a flicker of hesitation in your eyes. You looked shy, as if you were unsure whether you were crossing a line by speaking up. 

“Mr. Sunderland,” you began, your voice soft, “are you okay? I’ve noticed you’ve looked... a bit tired lately.” 

The question caught him off guard, and for a fleeting moment, he found himself wondering if it was painfully oblivious or truly observant of the details that everyone else seemed to overlook. But quickly, he concluded that he must have been projecting his exhaustion more than he realised, and he must definitely look tired. 

The question wasn’t intimate.

He forced a smile, trying to shake off the weight of your concern. “Yeah, I’m fine,” he replied too quickly, dismissing your worry as he nodded almost vigorously. “Just, you know, work and everything.” 

For a heartbeat, you searched his face, perhaps hoping to see something more, a glimpse of the truth that lay beneath his carefully crafted exterior. But after a moment of hesitation, you seemed to accept his response. You nodded, though there was still a hint of worry shadowing your features. 

“If you or Laura need anything, please let me know,” you insisted gently. “I’d be more than happy to help.” 

The kindness in your offer made his chest tighten, his heart pounding with a mix of gratitude and desire. He appreciated it, truly, but it also fueled the raging fire of lust that had consumed him. Here you were, simply trying to be helpful, and yet he couldn't help but imagine what it would be like to have you all to himself, to explore every inch of your body and lose himself in your embrace.

His mind raced with vivid, graphic images of you—unbuttoning your shirt, revealing your tantalising curves; running his hands over your smooth skin; kissing and licking your neck, tasting the salt of your sweat. He could almost taste the sweet moan that would escape your parted lips, the moan of a woman ready to surrender to his sinful, wanton needs. The very idea of it made his breath catch in his throat and his cock twitch in his pants.

He felt like a beast, a predator stalking its prey, as he watched you. Every move you made was a tease, every word you spoke a seductive whisper that echoed in his mind and stoked the flames of his desire. You were a forbidden, irresistible delight that he craved with every fibre of his being.

“Thank you,” he replied, his voice barely above a whisper and his voice painfully strained. “That means a lot.” He managed to nod, hoping to convey his gratitude without revealing the turmoil churning inside him.

James' lips curled into a polite smile, but his dark thoughts raged like wildfire beneath the surface. He tried to ignore the forced gentleness of his own tone, reminding himself that he was only being polite. Yet, every word he uttered was weighed down by heavy lust for you, and the knowledge that he should never let these desires surface again.

As you stood there, a mixture of warmth and uncertainty radiating from your presence, he felt a pang of regret. You were offering him a lifeline, yet he felt as though he was dragging you into a murky depth he didn’t know how to escape. The moment hung between you, a fragile thread of connection that he wanted to reach for, yet feared would only end in disappointment. In your eyes, he saw kindness, concern, and a spark of something he dared not acknowledge. But with every passing second, he also felt the walls he had built around himself begin to tremble, as if you might be the catalyst for change he had been both longing for and dreading.

“I should go,” you said, breaking the silence, and James felt an odd mix of relief and disappointment wash over him.

“Right,” he replied, forcing his mind to focus on the present. “Thank you Miss, and have a good night.”

You offered him one last warm smile before turning to leave, and he watched you go, feeling the weight of what had happened. The kindness you had shown him stirred something deep within—a longing he couldn’t quite satisfy.

[vroom--vrooming]

Homelander x Reader

Homelander was told that you were gone, dead, never to return to him again. He just didn't know how big of a lie it was

Homelander stepped through the ruined doors of the lab, his presence an overwhelming force in the desolate space. The facility was a tomb of memories, the walls steeped in the screams of his childhood. This was where they had forged him in fire and agony, a place of sterile white rooms, needles, and cold, unforgiving hands. And it was here, too, where he had lost the only person who had ever mattered to him.

The floors were slick with blood, the bodies of scientists and doctors strewn about like broken dolls. He had hunted them down with methodical cruelty, each one meeting a brutal end under his unrelenting fury. They deserved worse, far worse, for what they had done—not just to him, but to her.

She had been everything to him back then. The girl with eyes that reflected the same pain, the same fear. Her ability to mimic the powers of others had fascinated the scientists, turning her into a living experiment, just like him. Together, they had endured the tortures, finding strength in each other’s presence. She had been his anchor, his one source of light in that pit of darkness.

But then, one day, she was gone. They told him she was dead, and something inside him snapped. That was the day he stopped being the boy with a name and became Homelander, the unfeeling weapon Vought wanted.

Now, all these years later, he was back. The lab was eerily quiet, the only sounds the faint hum of machines still running despite the carnage. He was ready to leave this place behind, to burn it to the ground and let it be consumed by the flames of his vengeance. But then, he heard it—a heartbeat.

Homelander froze, his super hearing honing in on the faint, rhythmic sound. It was coming from deep within the facility, far below the main level, where the most secret and secure rooms lay hidden. His heart pounded in his chest as he followed the sound, a flicker of something strange and unwanted stirring in the pit of his stomach—hope.

He reached a metal door, thick and fortified, sealed with a lock designed to keep out even the most determined intruder. With a single thought, he tore the door from its hinges, the steel groaning in protest before crashing to the ground. He stepped inside, his breath catching in his throat at what he saw.

There, on a medical bed in the center of the small, sterile room, lay the girl he had thought lost forever.

She was still, her body connected to an array of medical equipment. Tubes ran from her veins to machines that hummed with a sickening familiarity, and her skin was pale, almost translucent under the harsh lights. But she was alive—he could hear her heartbeat, weak but steady, echoing in the small space.

Homelander’s chest tightened, a mixture of rage and grief crashing over him like a tidal wave. They had lied to him. They had kept her alive, hidden away, draining her of whatever they thought she could give them. And he had been too blind, too consumed by his own darkness, to see the truth.

He moved to her side, his hands trembling as he reached out to touch her face. Her skin was cool beneath his fingertips, soft and fragile, and for a moment, he feared she might shatter under his touch. He gently brushed a strand of hair from her face, his fingers lingering on her cheek, tracing the delicate line of her jaw.

She was still as beautiful as he remembered, but there was something different now—an emptiness in her that hadn’t been there before. She looked like a ghost, a shell of the vibrant, resilient girl he had known. And it was all because of them, the people he had just slaughtered, the people who had kept her in this hell.

A tear slipped down his cheek, an unwelcome sign of the emotions he had buried for so long. He wiped it away quickly, his expression hardening. There was no time for weakness now. He had to get her out of here, had to save her, even if he didn’t know if she could be saved.

Homelander began disconnecting the tubes and wires from her body, his movements slow and careful. Each piece of equipment that fell away felt like a chain being broken, a step closer to freeing her from this nightmare. He lifted her into his arms, holding her close to his chest, her head resting against his shoulder.

“You’re safe now,” he whispered, his voice cracking slightly. “I’ve got you.”

He walked out of the lab, carrying her as if she were the most precious thing in the world, his grip firm but gentle. The night air was cold against his skin as he emerged into the open, but he barely noticed it. All he could focus on was her—the girl who had once been his only source of light in the darkness.

He flew to Vought Tower, faster than he had ever flown before, the world a blur around him. He couldn’t lose her again. He wouldn’t.

When he arrived, he stormed into the medical wing, barking orders at the staff to get the best doctors, the best equipment. The scientists scurried like frightened mice, too afraid of the wrath that radiated off him to question anything. They worked quickly, setting her up in a private room, hooking her up to machines that would monitor her vitals, but Homelander never left her side.

He watched as they worked, his eyes never leaving her face. He didn’t trust them, didn’t trust anyone with her life except himself. But he knew he couldn’t save her alone. Not this time.

As the night wore on, he sat by her bedside, his hand gently holding hers. He could feel the warmth returning to her skin, hear her heartbeat growing stronger, but she still hadn’t woken up. He prayed, silently and desperately, to whatever gods might listen, that she would open her eyes, that she would come back to him.

For hours, he stayed there, refusing to leave even when the doctors assured him she was stable. He couldn’t leave her, not again. The sight of her lying there, so still and fragile, filled him with a fear he hadn’t felt in years. The fear of losing her all over again.

As dawn broke, casting a soft light through the window, he finally allowed himself to hope. Her breathing was steady, her heartbeat strong, and though she was still unconscious, he could see the signs of life returning to her.

“You’re going to be okay,” he whispered, his voice filled with a determination that had carried him through countless battles. “I’ll make sure of it.”

He leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to her forehead, the first real sign of tenderness he had shown anyone in years. As he pulled back, he saw a flicker of movement in her eyes, a twitch of her fingers, and his heart leaped in his chest.

“Come back to me,” he whispered, his voice trembling with emotion. “Please.”

And for the first time since he had found her, he allowed himself to believe that maybe, just maybe, she would.

[pretzel-box]

Hi Chea!! hope your doing well hun <3

Could I possibly req a human Sebastian x human reader scenario where they're on a first date of stargazing or going to an aquarium?? I think it would be a really cute idea <333 (Im a sucker for human seb stuff lmfao)

Remember to take breaks and stay hydrated <3

-💫

Tags: Human AU, Established Relationship, Fluffy and Wholesome Aquarium Date

Words: 1k

You had never imagined that your first date with Sebastian would be anything grand or extravagant. For all his charm and playful teasing, he had a softer side, one that revealed itself in quieter, more intimate moments. So when he suggested an aquarium date, it felt like the perfect reflection of that softer part of him, the part he only let you see.

The aquarium was bathed in soft, bluish light that mimicked the depths of the ocean. The moment you both stepped inside, the world outside seemed to fade away. The sound of water lapping gently against glass and the occasional bubbling noises from the tanks filled the space, creating a serene ambiance. Sebastian, dressed in his usual dark attire but looking unusually more relaxed than usual, gently took your hand, lacing his fingers through yours with a quiet smile.

"Ready?" he asked, his voice barely more than a whisper, as if he didn’t want to disturb the peaceful atmosphere.

You nodded, feeling a giddy excitement at the thought of spending the day with him here. The two of you began walking through the dimly lit corridors of the aquarium, illuminated by the glow of the tanks. Everywhere you looked, you could see exotic marine life swimming gracefully through the water — schools of vibrant fish, jellyfish drifting like ethereal dancers, and the occasional sharp-toothed predator lurking in the background.

"Look at this one," Sebastian murmured, gently steering you toward a large tank filled with stingrays that glided like silent ghosts over the sandy bottom. His hand tightened around yours as he leaned in slightly, his face close to yours. "They’re incredible, aren’t they?"

You smiled, watching his profile as he stared into the tank, his eyes reflecting the blue of the water. "They really are."

It wasn’t just the beauty of the aquarium that captured your attention — it was the way Sebastian seemed to come alive in this environment. His usual teasing demeanor had softened, replaced by a quiet reverence for the creatures around him. He looked so at peace, standing beside you, and it was hard not to feel a little in awe of him.

As the two of you wandered further into the aquarium, you found yourself drawn to a large tunnel, the kind where the water surrounded you completely, creating the illusion that you were walking underwater. Sebastian led you inside, the walls of the tunnel curving overhead as sharks and manta rays swam lazily above you. The lighting was low, the only illumination coming from the tanks, casting a dim, dreamlike glow.

Without thinking, you leaned your head on Sebastian's shoulder. He didn’t move, didn’t tease or pull away like you half-expected. Instead, he let out a contented sigh and wrapped an arm around your waist, pulling you a little closer.

"You know," he began, his voice soft in the quiet space, "I’ve always liked aquariums. There’s something peaceful about watching the way everything moves… like they’re in their own world, separate from ours."

You looked up at him, surprised by his words. It was rare for Sebastian to open up about something personal. "I can see that," you said gently. "It’s calming."

He glanced down at you, his expression unreadable for a moment before a small smile tugged at the corner of his lips. "I’m glad I’m sharing it with you."

Warmth bloomed in your chest at his words, your heart skipping a beat. It was one thing to know that Sebastian cared for you, but hearing him express it so quietly, so intimately, made the moment feel even more special.

You continued through the tunnel, your pace slow and unhurried, neither of you in any rush to leave the peaceful serenity of the aquarium. At one point, you came to a stop in front of a particularly beautiful tank filled with colorful coral and bright, darting fish. Sebastian let out a small chuckle as one of the fish swam directly toward the glass, as if to inspect you both.

"Do you think they know we’re here?" he mused, his arm still resting around your waist.

You laughed softly. "Maybe. Or maybe they’re just curious."

His gaze flicked toward you, his expression warm and playful. "Just like me, then."

You rolled your eyes at his teasing tone but couldn’t help the smile that spread across your face. Sebastian had a way of making everything feel lighter, even in moments like these, where the quiet between you was thick with unspoken feelings.

Eventually, the two of you found yourselves at the final exhibit — a massive tank filled with various sea creatures, from sleek sharks to elegant turtles. The water shimmered in the dim light, casting rippling reflections on the floor and walls. It felt like stepping into another world entirely.

Sebastian paused, turning to face you fully. There was something different in his expression now, something more serious, more vulnerable. He reached up, gently brushing a strand of hair behind your ear before his hand lingered against your cheek.

"I wanted today to be special," he said softly, his thumb brushing lightly against your skin. "You deserve that."

Your breath hitched at the tenderness in his voice, the sincerity in his gaze. He had always been a bit of an enigma — playful one moment, distant the next — but in this moment, there was no pretense, no walls. It was just the two of you, standing together in the soft glow of the aquarium.

"It is special," you whispered, leaning into his touch. "Because I’m here with you."

For a moment, neither of you spoke, the only sound the gentle hum of the water around you. Then, slowly, Sebastian leaned in, his lips brushing against yours in the softest, sweetest kiss. It wasn’t rushed or demanding — it was gentle, full of warmth and emotion, like he was pouring all his unspoken feelings into that single, quiet moment.

When he pulled back, his forehead rested against yours, and his eyes stayed closed for a moment longer, as if he was savoring the closeness between you.

"I don’t think I’ve ever been this happy," he murmured, his voice barely audible, but the sincerity in his words was unmistakable.

You smiled, your heart swelling with affection for him. "Me neither."

The rest of the world seemed to fall away, leaving just the two of you, standing together beneath the shimmering water. As the fish swam lazily by and the soft light bathed you both, you knew that this was a moment you’d treasure forever — a perfect, quiet memory of your first date with Sebastian.

[ms-snape]

Hi, i see that request are open.

What if Severus survived the war but didn't tell anyone. He moved far away, to another country (maybe Italy). But at home, his wife was waiting for him and she was his biggest support during the war. She refused to believe he is dead. And a few years later she would find out by accident when she bumped into him on the street hand in hand with someone else. Lots of angst. I mean….. lots of angst. 🙂

Title: Moving On

Request: Finally a request I've been waiting for one for like days.... REQUESTS ARE OPENED

Summary: I don't think I can give a better summary than the request so...

Warning: angst.... sad ending...

Word Count: 2305

Masterlist

---

In the heart of Italy, where the sun-drenched landscapes mingled with the whisper of ancient cobblestone streets, YN felt a certain heaviness. It was a weight she carried not just in her suitcase, filled with clothes and hopes for a brighter future, but in her heart, where the memory of Severus Snape lingered like a ghost. The world believed him dead, a casualty of a war that had torn apart the very fabric of their lives, but YN had never accepted that finality. She could not bring herself to mourn him as everyone else had; instead, she clung to the thread of hope that wove through her despair.

YN had been broken when the news of his death reached her—a jagged dagger that pierced her soul and left her hollow. The days that followed were a blur of grief and longing. She had wandered through her life like a specter, lost in the memories of their time together, each moment spent with Severus replaying in her mind like a shattered record. She remembered his quiet intensity, the way his dark eyes would soften when he looked at her, the sound of his voice as he spoke of potions and spells, of love and loss. It was as if he had taken a part of her with him when he vanished from the world.

Ella, her best friend, had insisted on this trip—an attempt to pull YN from the depths of her sorrow. They ventured to the quaint coastal town of Positano, with its colorful cliffside houses and azure waters, where laughter echoed around them like a distant memory. But even in the midst of beauty, YN felt numb. The sun could not warm the chill that resided in her heart. Every breathtaking view of the Italian coast felt tainted by the absence of the one person she could not forget.

As Ella tried to engage YN in conversation, pointing out the charm of the local markets and the deliciousness of the gelato, YN’s mind drifted elsewhere. She found herself staring out at the sea, imagining it was Severus standing there, his silhouette framed against the horizon, waiting for her to join him. The thought was both comforting and torturous, a bittersweet reminder of love that once was.

“YN, you can’t keep doing this to yourself,” Ella said one evening as they sat on a balcony overlooking the sunset. “You need to let him go. It’s been years.He's gone and you need to accept it”

But how could she? How could she dismiss the love they had shared, the promises whispered in the dark? Each time YN closed her eyes, she could see Severus—his furrowed brow, the way his lips curled into a half-smile when she teased him. The memories were too vivid, too real. They were the only thing that anchored her to the world, the only thing that kept the shadows at bay.

The days passed, and YN felt the ache in her heart deepen. She wandered through the streets of Positano, searching for something she could not name. Perhaps it was closure, or maybe just a sign that Severus was still alive. She explored the narrow alleys, the vibrant shops, and the azure beaches, all while carrying the weight of her unyielding hope.

Then, on a seemingly ordinary afternoon, everything changed. YN had taken to wandering alone, her heart heavy with the memories that haunted her. She meandered through the bustling market square, the colors and sounds swirling around her like a kaleidoscope of life. She paused by a stall selling handmade jewelry, absentmindedly running her fingers over the delicate pieces. The sun dipped lower in the sky, casting a golden hue over everything, and for a moment, she allowed herself to breathe.

But then, as she turned to leave the stall, she collided with someone. The force of the impact sent her stumbling back, and she looked up, ready to apologize to the stranger. But then time seemed to freeze. There, standing before her, was Severus Snape—alive, breathing, and somehow more real than the memories she had clung to for so long.

Her heart raced, a wild tempest of disbelief and hope. But as her eyes traveled down to his hand, the world shattered around her. He was holding the hand of another woman—a stunning brunette with an easy smile and laughter that danced in the air between them. YN felt her heart plummet, the fragile thread of hope she had carried for years snapping in an instant.

Severus looked at her, confusion etched across his features. The moment stretched, the bustling market fading into silence. YN’s breath hitched in her throat, a mix of joy and agony tearing her apart. She wanted to rush into his arms, to feel his warmth envelop her again, but the sight of the other woman kept her rooted to the spot, paralyzed by the pain of betrayal.

“Severus?” The word slipped from her lips like a prayer, a desperate plea for him to explain, to make sense of the scene before her.

The smile faded from his face, replaced by a flicker of guilt. “YN… I—”

But she couldn’t hear him. The world felt as if it were collapsing around her. She had spent years believing he was dead, clinging to the hope that he would one day return to her, and now here he was, a living ghost of her past, with another woman at his side. The anger bubbled within her, mingling with the heartbreak that consumed her.

“Is this why you never came back?” YN’s voice trembled, laced with a hurt that cut deeper than any spell. “You were alive all this time and didn't even come back to me, you wife? Did you choose to leave me behind?”

Severus’s eyes darkened with regret, but YN couldn’t bear to see it. The anguish she felt was all-consuming, a tidal wave of emotions crashing against the fragile dam she had built around her heart. “I waited for you, Severus. I never stopped believing you were out there, that you would come back to me. And now… this?”

“YN, please, it’s not what you think,” he said, stepping toward her, but she recoiled, the distance between them stretching like an unbridgeable chasm.

“Not what I think?” The bitterness in her voice cut through the air, sharp and biting. “You were supposed to be dead! I mourned you! I grieved for the life we could have had, for the love we shared. And now you’re here, holding her hand like I never existed?”

The woman beside him looked between them, confusion evident in her eyes, but YN couldn’t spare her a glance. Her world had narrowed to just Severus, the man she had loved with every fiber of her being, the man who had shattered her heart without a word.

“YN, I had my reasons—”

“Reasons?” She interrupted, her anger boiling over. “Was it worth it? Was it worth leaving me in the dark while you built a new life without me? I thought you loved me.”

“I did love you!” Severus’s voice rose, desperation lacing his words. “And I never stopped loving you or thinking about you, but I had to survive. The war… it changed everything. I thought you were safe, that you could move on without me.”

“Move on?” YN’s laugh was hollow, devoid of humor. “You think I could just forget? You think I could just pretend that you didn’t mean the world to me? You left me with nothing but the ghosts of what we could have been, and now you stand here, alive, with someone else?”

The bitterness spilled from her lips, a torrent of pain that had been building for years. She felt raw and exposed, like a wound that had never healed, and now it was laid bare for him to see. The anguish in her heart felt like a physical weight, pressing down on her chest, suffocating her.

Severus’s expression twisted with regret, his dark eyes brimming with unshed tears. “I never wanted to hurt you. I thought you’d be better off without me. I thought I was protecting you.”

“Protecting me?” YN’s voice cracked, the pain evident in every syllable. “You didn’t protect me; you abandoned me. I was left to pick up the pieces of my shattered heart while you… you moved on.You found someone else...”

The silence that followed was deafening. Around them, the world continued to buzz with life—laughter, music, the distant sound of waves crashing against the shore—but for YN, everything had come to a standstill. She felt as if she were standing on the edge of a precipice, staring down into an abyss of despair.

“I thought you were dead,” she whispered, her voice barely audible above the noise. “I thought I had lost you forever.”

“And I thought you moved on,” Severus replied, his voice heavy with regret. “I never meant for this to happen.”

“But it did happen, Severus.” The tears she had held back for so long began to spill over, a torrent of grief and rage. “You’re here, with.... her, while I was left to drown in my sorrow. You can’t just waltz back into my life and expect me to forget the pain you caused.”

Severus’s expression faltered, a mixture of guilt and longing etched across his features. The woman beside him shifted uncomfortably, the weight of the moment pressing down on them. YN felt the heat of anger mixing with the chill of betrayal, a volatile concoction that threatened to consume her.

“I can’t change the past,” he said, his voice low, almost pleading. “But please, YN, don’t push me away. I still care for you. I always have.”

The words hung in the air, heavy with unspoken promises and memories that felt like a lifetime ago. YN looked at him, at the man she had loved fiercely, and felt the ache in her heart deepen. She wanted to believe him, to reach out and bridge the gap that had grown between them. But the reality was too painful, too raw.

“And what about her?” YN’s voice trembled, the bitterness creeping back in. “What am I supposed to do with that? You’ve built a life without me, Severus. It feels impossible to reconcile that with the love we once shared.”

“I never meant for any of this to happen,” he said, anguish etched in every line of his face. “I was lost, and I thought I was doing what was best for you and me.”

YN shook her head, tears streaming down her cheeks. “You think abandoning me was what was best? You think I wanted to live in a world where you weren’t there? I was lost too, Severus. I was lost without you.We made a vow, we promised to laways be there for each other, but apparently it meant nothing to you”

The hurt between them was palpable, a chasm that felt insurmountable. YN’s heart ached with the weight of memories that threatened to drown her. She wanted to scream, to rage against the universe that had torn them apart, but all she could do was stand there, feeling the walls close in around her.

As the sun began to set, casting a warm glow over the cobblestones, YN felt the flicker of hope extinguish. The world around her was beautiful, but in that moment, it felt like a cruel joke. She had come to Italy seeking solace, but instead, she found herself face-to-face with the man who had become both her salvation and her tormentor.

“I can’t do this,” YN whispered, her voice breaking. “I can’t pretend that everything’s okay when it’s not. I loved you more than anything, but I have to let you go. I have to move on, even if it breaks me... I wish you a really happy life... perhaps better than the one you once had with me....”

With that, she turned away, an instinctive reaction to shield herself from the pain. She couldn’t bear to see him with her, the woman who had become the embodiment of all her fears. It felt like a betrayal—a cruel twist of fate that had stolen her love and replaced it with a bitter reminder of what she had lost.

As she walked away, the tears streamed down her face, each step feeling heavier than the last. The streets of Positano, once vibrant and full of life, felt suffocating, closing in around her as she retreated from the scene that had shattered her world anew.

Behind her, Severus called her name, desperation lacing his voice, but YN didn’t look back. She couldn’t. She had given him everything, only to be left with nothing but the echoes of what once was. The colors of Italy faded into a blur, and as she walked away from the man she had loved, she felt the weight of her heart breaking all over again.

As she reached the edge of the market, the sounds of laughter and joy faded away, replaced by the haunting silence that had become her constant companion. YN had come to Italy to escape her pain, to find a semblance of peace, but instead, she was reminded of the love she had lost and the life that would never be.

In that moment, as she stood alone in a foreign land, she realized that some shadows lingered long after the light had faded. And as the sun dipped below the horizon, casting the world into darkness, YN felt the weight of her despair settle heavily upon her shoulders, an unshakeable burden that would follow her wherever she went. She was lost, and the echoes of Severus Snape would forever haunt her heart, a bittersweet reminder of a love that had been both her greatest joy and her deepest sorrow.

[priceyprice]

"I love you." Simon said as he stared at the little flower blooming in the back of his yard, captivating anyone with its beauty and fragility.

His fingers caressed the petals, ever so lightly, almost not touching it, afraid of breaking one. His eyes were only focused on the vibrant plant, looking as if it's going to give him the slightest bit of sign.

A sign that she's alive.

His chest tightens, that awful and familiar feeling appearing again as it does since a long time. His mind wanders away, remembering the times he has seen her taking care of this beautiful flower, spraying it, talking with it and even just sit there and stare at it, letting all her stress go away. He asked her why that flower was so important for her since that flower is very common everywhere they go to do their missions. She just looked up at him, her lips forming a smile, making him skip a beat.

"Because everywhere we go and I see one of them, I can remember my home is here, with you."

That was the last time he was Simon.

That was the last time he saw her beautiful smile before she disappeared.

It has been nearly one year since his lover went MIA. The team was on a mission going after a drug dealer and human trafficker who was getting tracked by the government for years. They went to ambush one of his buildings when some information got leaked, indicating he was staying there. The team managed to get a lot of his underlings, and Ghost managed to kill a few, decreasing some of the huge empire the man had, but he managed to run away. The captain told his team to come back to their initial point to reunite, and they did.

Except for her.

The team tried to search for her in the area, but it was in vain. Her radio was off, and her signal was lost.

She completely disappeared.

They know that powerful man took her, but they don't have any signs of where she could've been. Some information they got from an intel said she could be in South America since that's where the organization sometimes goes to do some trafficking.

Other people say that she's dead. They say there's no hope for him to keep searching if she really got caught by that organization.

But Simon doesn't believe it.

They had so many plans together. They wanted to get married in a few years and buy a bigger house to the possibility of a family, and when their retirement knocked on their door, they would've been traveling the world together. That's why she can't leave him without even sharing a last kiss with him.

If she's actually dead, he will bring her back to life...

...Even if it means selling his soul to the devil himself.

: : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : :

Just a little idea. :)

Next drabble here

[dee-writes-smut]

SUMMER (Chapter Four)

FEATURING Azriel x Illyrian!reader

SUMMARY healing is a long journey that can't be summed up in just four simple seasons, but it seems with the help of a certain shadowsinger at your side, you've seemed to do it.

CONTENT WARNINGS mentions of nightmares, apologies, scared reader, comforting Azriel, Cassian POV, and mentions of wingspans ;)

AUTHORS NOTE the finale you've all been waiting for is finally here as promised! Thank you all so much for your support during this series, I am excited to be back and writing for you all again! Love you all and I hope you enjoy! <3

Summer arrives like a promise fulfilled, a canvas awash with vibrant hues of green and gold, as if nature herself has donned her finest attire. The air hums with the gentle whisper of transformation, carrying the scent of freshly cut grass and the promise of new beginnings on its warm breeze.

As the sun stretches its golden fingers across the land, casting long shadows that dance in its radiant glow, there's a palpable sense of rejuvenation in the air. It's as if each dawn heralds a new chapter, a chance to shed the burdens of the past and embrace the endless possibilities of the present.

In this season of abundance, life bursts forth with an exuberance that is both intoxicating and invigorating. The world awakens from its slumber, blossoming with a riot of colors as flowers unfurl their petals in joyful defiance of the lingering chill of winter. Leaves rustle in the gentle caress of the wind, their verdant whispers carrying tales of resilience and growth.

Amidst this symphony of nature's symphony, there is a sense of newfound strength coursing through every living thing. Like a phoenix rising from the ashes, the warmth of the sun infuses each day with a sense of possibility, igniting a fire within the soul that refuses to be extinguished.

In the heart of summer, time seems to slow, allowing moments to linger like the last rays of sunlight on a balmy evening. It's a season of exploration and adventure, where every day holds the promise of discovery and every sunset marks the end of one chapter and the beginning of another.

And as the days stretch languidly into twilight, there is a quiet resilience that takes root, a deep-seated belief in the power of new beginnings and the strength that comes from embracing change. For in the heart of summer, beneath the sweltering heat and the endless blue skies, lies the untold promise of tomorrow, waiting to be seized with both hands and forged into something beautiful.

(Mid Summer, Velaris)

The afternoon sun poured into the training ring, casting long shadows of the figures sparring lightly within it. Cassian was across from me, a patient yet mischievous grin on his face, as he handed me a training sword. “Ready to get your ass kicked, or are you going to make me work for it today?”

I smirked, feeling the flutter of my old spirit stirring within. “Dream on, Cassian.”

The clash of our swords sang through the air, a melody of metal that resonated with the pounding of my heart. Each strike, each parry, felt like shedding layers of fear that had cocooned me since losing my wings.

“Focus,” Cassian said, his voice a mix of sternness and encouragement. “Remember, it’s not just about strength. It’s about knowing your opponent.”

I nodded, gripping my own wooden sword a little tighter. As I lunged forward, Cassian parried easily, countering with a swift movement that I barely blocked in time. We moved in a rhythm, the clack of our swords punctuating each maneuver. My muscles remembered the dance, even if they ached from disuse. Cassian’s style was a flurry of motion, designed to overwhelm, but today he tempered his usual ferocity, giving me room to find my footing again. The physical exertion was grounding, pulling me further away from my mental ghosts.

Laughter and shouts from Mor, watching from the sidelines, filled the arena, her cheers a buoyant soundtrack to our dance of blades and as we paused for a break, Mor jogged over with a waterskin and a smirk. She threw an arm around my shoulders, squeezing tightly. “Look at you! You’re almost back to your old self,” she beamed, her pride evident.

The warmth from her compliment soaked through me, loosening some of the tightness still lingering in my chest. “Feels good to move like that again,” I admitted, allowing the truth of my words to wash over me. It did feel good—like claiming back pieces of my soul, piece by piece.

“You two look like you’re having fun,” she smiled, squeezing me close again as she handed me the waterskin. After I took a long drink, she shot me a sly glance. “Speaking of fun, have you noticed how Azriel can't seem to stay away from your side?”

Mor’s eyebrows wiggled as I coughed on the water, wiping my mouth as I tried to compose myself. “He’s just being supportive,” I muttered, feeling my cheeks heat up.

Cassian chuckled, leaning on his sword. “Oh, he’s being supportive, all right. Haven’t seen him this glued to someone since… well, ever.”

I rolled my eyes, but the seed of awareness began to sprout in my mind. Azriel had indeed been a constant presence, his quiet strength a comfort I hadn’t realized I’d leaned on so much.

“Do you think it might be a mating bond?” Mor asked casually, too casually, as she inspected her nails.

The question halted me, the weight of the implication settling in my stomach like a stone. The mating bond was sacred, profound—was I ready for something like that? The very thought made my heart race, not just with fear but with a blossoming hope I hadn’t acknowledged until now.

“Maybe he’s just being a good friend,” I countered, but my voice lacked conviction.

Cassian raised an eyebrow, giving me a knowing look. “When you know, you know,” he said simply. “And it looks like you’re starting to realize something there.”

We resumed training, but his words echoed in my mind with each strike and block. Azriel’s face appeared in my thoughts, his smiles, the gentle touch of his hands, the way his eyes lit up when he looked at me lately. My feelings for him, which I had shelved as mere gratitude or the simple need for companionship during recovery, seemed to be deepening into something richer, more profound.

As we finished and walked back towards the House of Wind, Mor looped her arm through mine. “You don’t have to figure it all out at once,” she whispered. “But don’t close your heart to the possibility of something beautiful. Azriel cares for you deeply, more than just as a friend or protector.”

The sun dipped below the horizon, casting a golden glow that bathed the world in a soft, forgiving light. It felt symbolic, reflective of my own internal dawn. Maybe, just maybe, I was ready to consider that what lay between Azriel and me could be the kind of love that songs and tales were spun from. As fear and doubt receded, leaving room for this new, tender hope, I realized that my journey of healing was also leading me down a path of rediscovering my capacity to love—not just Azriel, but myself and this new life I was slowly, bravely building.

(Mid Summer, The River House)

That evening, the dinner with the Inner Circle was held at the sprawling, candlelit table in the River House. The atmosphere was thick with laughter and the clinking of glasses, a symphony of friendship and familial bonds. The windows were thrown open, allowing the crisp, cool air of Velaris to sweep through the room, mixing with the scent of jasmine and roasted meats.

As I entered the dining room, a subtle change in my demeanor didn’t go unnoticed by the group. Rhysand was the first to catch my eye, giving me a nod of approval and a warm, welcoming smile. Amren, ever observant, watched me with her piercing gaze, a hint of a smile playing at the corners of her lips, acknowledging the shift in my spirits.

Azriel, standing slightly apart, offered me a soft, encouraging smile as I took my place next to him. His quiet strength bolstered my newfound resolve to engage more fully with those around me.

Dinner began with a lively discussion led by Feyre about a recent exhibition at the art gallery in the city. Her eyes sparkled with excitement as she described the vibrant colors and revolutionary techniques of the new artists showcased. I listened, chiming in with my thoughts on the integration of night and day themes, which earned an approving laugh from Rhys.

As the meal continued, Cassian, true to form, began recounting one of his training escapades, embellishing the details to make his tale more dramatic. “And then, just as I was about to execute my perfectly planned maneuver, an Illyrian baby sneezed on me. Totally threw off my game!”

Laughter erupted around the table, and I found myself genuinely chuckling, the sound surprising even to me. “Only you, Cassian, could be outmaneuvered by a baby’s sneeze,” I teased, earning a round of applause and a mock bow from Cassian.

“See, she’s got jokes now! Our girl’s coming back to us,” Mor exclaimed, her face alight with joy. She reached over to squeeze my hand, her gesture warm and reassuring.

As plates were cleared and desserts were served, the conversation shifted to lighter, more personal stories. Feyre shared anecdotes about her latest painting misadventures, while Mor detailed her plans for the upcoming festival in the city. Each story, each shared laugh, felt like a stitch mending the frayed edges of my soul.

As the dinner party began to wind down in the warm, laughter-filled hall, a soft coo from the corner caught my attention. Nyx, cradled gently in Feyre’s arms, was awake and curiously peeking over her shoulder with wide, starry eyes. I felt my heart tug softly. It had been too long since I had held him, too long since I’d allowed myself to be part of these simpler, beautiful family moments.

Feyre caught my gaze and smiled, understanding immediately. “Someone wants to say hello,” she said softly, walking over with Nyx. His small hand reached out, and I couldn’t help but smile as his fingers grasped at the air between us.

“May I?” I asked, my voice a whisper of excitement mixed with a hint of uncertainty.

“Of course,” Feyre replied, carefully transferring Nyx into my arms. The baby settled against me with ease, a soft sigh escaping him as if he found comfort in my embrace. His tiny hand reached up, touching my cheek gently, an innocent gesture that felt like a reassurance of missed affection. It was as if he was saying he remembered me, that he too had felt the absence of our connection.

The moment wasn’t lost on Azriel, who watched from a short distance. His shadows flickered subtly around him, a telltale sign of his emotions stirring beneath that calm exterior. Since the conversation with Cassian and Mor earlier today, every glance, every small interaction with him seemed charged with a new, silent tension. My newly admitted feelings for him amplified each shared look, adding weight to the air between us.

As I rocked Nyx gently, my thoughts drifted to Azriel again. His presence at my side had become a constant, his support unwavering. The depth of my affection for him had crept up silently, weaving itself into the fabric of my daily life until it was indistinguishable from my other truths. I found myself stealing glances at him, each look a quiet confession of the feelings I was only beginning to allow myself to acknowledge.

Azriel eventually made his way over, his gaze softening as he looked at Nyx in my arms. “He’s missed you,” Azriel murmured, his voice barely audible over the low hum of conversation around us.

I met his eyes, feeling a flush of warmth at the intimacy of the moment. “I’ve missed him, too. Missed all of this,” I admitted, my voice thick with emotion. The way Azriel looked at me then, with such warmth and depth, made my heart skip a beat.

“Looks good on you,” he said after a pause, nodding towards Nyx.

The comment, simple and offhand, thrummed with unspoken meanings. It was a nudge against the boundaries we had maintained, a gentle probing into the new spaces of my heart that had begun to open to him.

As I handed Nyx back to Feyre, I caught Azriel’s arm gently. “Stay for a moment?” I asked, my voice hopeful, laden with the weight of all the things I hadn’t yet said.

He nodded, his usual reserve melting away for a moment as he stayed by my side, his presence a silent promise of things perhaps soon to be explored. We both knew something unspoken was shifting between us, and while neither of us was ready to dive into those waters just yet, acknowledging it—even in silence—felt like the first step toward a new horizon.

(Mid Summer, The House of Wind)

The following week, Feyre, Mor, Nesta, and I revived our "book club"—a ruse for nights filled with wine, wild discussions about our latest reads, and shared secrets under the cloak of night. As I sat curled up on a plush couch, a glass of wine in hand, surrounded by these incredible women, a profound sense of belonging enveloped me. Here, in these moments, I was safe to just be; to heal, to laugh, to grow.

The cozy nook tucked away in the House of Wind had become our sanctuary, a place where the Inner Circle’s book club convened to discuss literature, life, and everything in between. Tonight, as the flickering candlelight cast soft shadows across the room, I settled into my usual spot among the plush cushions, surrounded by my closest friends.

Feyre, Nesta, and Mor lounged around me, each with a book in hand, their faces alight with anticipation for our weekly gathering. The atmosphere was charged with excitement, the air buzzing with the promise of lively conversation and shared insights.

“So, what’s everyone reading this week?” Mor asked, her eyes sparkling with mischief as she glanced around the circle.

Feyre held up a worn copy of her latest find, a tale of forbidden love and political intrigue. “I’m revisiting an old favorite,” she said with a smile. “It’s like catching up with an old friend.”

Nesta, with a smirk playing on her lips, produced a rather scandalous-looking novel with a provocative cover. “I’m exploring the more… sensual side of literature,” she declared, her voice dripping with amusement.

As the conversation flowed around me, I couldn’t help but chuckle at Nesta’s choice. Leave it to her to bring a little spice to our book club discussions. I was hesitant to share tonight, scared to share my feelings so blatantly, to say them out loud in a space with women who would not so soon let me forget. Tonight felt different, though, I felt stronger, able to seize this chance to share with my friends the tumultuous emotions swirling inside me.

“I’ve been reading this collection of poetry,” I began, my voice tentative at first. “It’s funny how words can capture the complexity of human emotions so beautifully.”

Mor’s eyes gleamed with interest, her grin widening. “Ah, poetry—the language of the heart,” she said, her tone teasing yet tender. “Any particular poem speaking to you?”

I hesitated, my gaze flickering to the empty spot where Azriel usually sat. His absence was keenly felt, a reminder of the unresolved tension between us. “There’s one poem that resonates with me,” I admitted, my voice growing stronger with each word. “It’s about…” I faltered, the weight of my confession heavy on my tongue.

Feyre leaned forward, her eyes warm with understanding. “About love?” she prompted gently, her hand reaching out to squeeze mine in silent support.

I nodded, the words spilling forth in a rush. “About love, and fear, and the courage to open your heart to someone—even when it scares you.”

Nesta regarded me with a thoughtful expression, her gaze piercing yet compassionate. “Love is a battlefield,” she said, her voice soft yet firm. “But sometimes, the greatest victories come from facing our fears head-on.”

Mor chimed in with her trademark humor, lightening the mood with a well-timed joke. “Who knew our stoic Shadowsinger had a soft spot for you?”

Feyre smiled knowingly, her eyes dancing with mischief. “Maybe it’s time to confront the shadows and see what lies beneath.”

Nesta couldn’t resist adding her own brand of wit to the conversation. “Speaking of shadows,” she said with a sly grin, “has anyone else noticed Azriel’s wingspan lately?”

We all laughed at Nesta’s comment, the tension in the room dissipating as we embraced the camaraderie of our little gathering. Despite the challenges we faced, tonight was a reminder that with the support of friends, even the darkest shadows could be chased away.

As the evening wore on, our conversation drifted from books to more personal topics, each of us sharing snippets of our lives and experiences. It was a rare moment of vulnerability, a chance to peel back the layers and reveal the raw truths hidden beneath.

Nesta, ever the enigma, shared tales of her latest adventures in the human lands, her sharp wit and cunning intellect shining through with every word.

Mor, always the life of the party, regaled us with stories of her escapades in the Court of Nightmares, her laughter contagious as she recounted her misadventures.

And Feyre, with her quiet strength and unwavering compassion, offered words of wisdom and encouragement, her presence a soothing balm to our troubled souls.

As for me, I found solace in their company, the weight of my burdens eased by the warmth of their friendship. In their laughter and shared moments, I found the courage to confront my fears and embrace the possibility of a brighter future.

And as the candles burned low and the night grew late, I knew that no matter what challenges lay ahead, I would face them with the unwavering support of my sisters by my side.

The support of the entire Inner Circle was a force as tangible as the magic that coursed through our veins—a constant, steadfast presence that fortified me against the darker moments. Their belief in me, their unyielding backing, gave me strength, and little by little, I began to feel not just the shadow of the person I once was, but someone stronger, resilient, reborn from adversity.

In these gatherings, these moments of shared vulnerability and joy, I was not just healing. I was transforming—emerging not how I was before the kidnapping, but perhaps even brighter, tempered by trials and warmed by the unwavering light of the family I chose and who had chosen me in return.

(Late Summer, The House of Wind)

The night pressed heavily around the room, its silence a thick, oppressive blanket punctuated only by the soft, rhythmic breathing of Azriel beside me. In the comfort of his proximity, sleep had finally granted me a temporary reprieve from the relentless torment of my nightmares. Yet, the peace was fragile, vulnerable to the slightest disturbance—a reality proven as a sharp, inexplicable chill sliced through the room's stagnant warmth.

The temperature plummeted, wrapping its icy fingers around my spine, jolting me awake. My eyes flicked open, instantly scanning the familiar contours of the room bathed in the ethereal glow of moonlight. Shadows clung to the walls like dark, silent sentinels until one stirred coalescing into a form far too human, far too familiar.

Lyris emerged from the darkness as though materializing from my deepest fears, his presence a tangible echo of past horrors. His eyes, sharp and merciless, locked onto mine with the precision of a hunter sighting its prey. The sheer malevolence in his gaze sent a visceral shudder through me, yet it was no longer solely fear that stirred within my veins. Anger, raw and blazing, kindled within, fueling a burgeoning defiance I hadn't known I possessed.

"Thinking you could escape me?" Lyris's voice was a venomous hiss, his form inching closer with predatory grace. His smirk was twisted, a grotesque mask of sadistic anticipation.

But then, with the seamless reflexes honed by centuries of battle, Azriel was between us. His body moved with lethal precision, his hand snapping out to seize Lyris by the wrist, halting his advance with unyielding strength. "She's under my protection," Azriel snarled, his voice a dangerous, low rumble. His other hand flicked to his side, the sound of steel sliding from leather slicing through the tension as he brandished a dagger, its blade catching the moon's silver light.

Lyris recoiled slightly, his eyes darting to the blade then back to Azriel’s unwavering stare. "You think you can keep her from her fate?" he spat, struggling against Azriel's iron grip.

“Her fate is her own, and you have no part in it,” Azriel retorted, his wings unfurling menacingly. The air around us thickened with dark, swirling shadows, responding to the raw power emanating from him. In that moment, he was not just my protector but an avenging angel cloaked in night's embrace.

The room filled with a heavy, expectant silence, thick with the weight of unspoken threats. Breaking the tension, I found my voice, though it trembled with the force of my emotions. "Where are my wings, Lyris?" The question tore from me, a desperate plea tangled with a demand.

"Your wings?" he mused mockingly, his eyes glinting with cruelty. "Such a precious prize… Let's just say they're kept in a place where they await their true destiny—far from your reach.”

"Give them back," Azriel demanded, his tone lethal, a stark contrast to the deceptive calm of his posture.

Lyris's laugh was cold and chilling, like the howl of the wind outside. "You overestimate your power here, shadow singer. I could take her now, and you wouldn't be able to stop me."

Azriel's response was swift and deadly serious. "Try it, and it will be the last thing you do." His wings unfurled dramatically as he snatched Lyris’ wrist in a powerful grip, the span of dark membrane filling the room with a sense of otherworldly power. The shadows around him deepened, swirling in response to his anger and the protective fury that laced every syllable.

The standoff stretched, a moment suspended in time where every breath, every heartbeat was laden with potential violence. Then, with a jerk, Lyris wrenched free, stepping back into the protective shroud of darkness. “She will never be free from me," he hissed, his presence oppressive, suffocating. "And neither will you."

Then, as suddenly as he had appeared, he dissolved into shadows, leaving a cold void in his wake. His final words echoed ominously, a malevolent promise hanging in the air. As the immediate threat vanished, Azriel’s demeanor shifted, the lethal warrior receding to reveal his concern. He turned to me, his intense gaze softening. “Are you alright?” His voice was now a gentle whisper, a stark contrast to the deadly thunder from moments before.

I collapsed back against the pillows, my body trembling uncontrollably. The fear wasn't just about the physical presence of Lyris—it was the emotional and psychological terror, the deep scars he had left on my soul, that overwhelmed me.

Azriel sat beside me, enveloping me in his arms, his presence a solid, reassuring force against the lingering echoes of dread. "I'm here. You're safe," he murmured against my hair, his voice a soothing balm.

Tears streamed down my cheeks, sobs wracking my body as the terror slowly ebbed away, replaced by immense fatigue. "We have to get them back, Azriel. I need to feel whole again."

His embrace tightened, a silent promise of unyielding support. "We will," he assured me quietly. "No matter what it takes, we will bring them back.” He took a deep breath, his arms tightening around me as if he were scared that I might run from him. “Always, I will protect you. From him, from anyone who dares to threaten you,” he murmured into my hair, his breath warm against my scalp. His wings, now gently wrapped around us, formed a cocoon that felt impenetrable.

Settling back against him, I allowed the warmth of his embrace to seep deeper into my bones, expelling the lingering chill of Lyris's visit. His presence was a bastion, within which I found not only protection but a profound sense of belonging.

As we lay back down, the room once again shrouded in the soothing silence of night, a new resolve fortified my spirit. Lyris had found me, yes, but he had not found me alone, nor would he ever. Azriel’s vow to protect me was more than a promise—it was a declaration, a sentinel set against the darkness, both within and without. As sleep beckoned once more, the shadows no longer seemed an ominous threat lurking in the corners but allies, guardians cloaked in the same darkness that wrapped around us, a shield against all that would do harm.

(Late Summer, Cassian)

The morning after Lyris's intrusion, the House of Wind seemed to hold its breath, an unspoken tension palpable in the air. Everyone had shared their worries for her, our friend who had clawed her way back from that bastard's torment. We all worried, we all loved her so greatly, enjoyed the way her presence warmed Azriel’s cold exterior and to see her fall back into that dark place she had fought her way out of, to take Azriel unknowingly with her again, it poured a dark sense of grief over the house.

But amidst the uncertainty, the deep seeded fear of losing our friend once more, there was a glimmer of light, a beacon of hope cutting through the darkness. Entering the kitchen, I was met with a scene that caught me off guard—our friend, her laughter ringing out like a bell as she shared a moment of levity with Azriel. It was a rare sight, one that stirred a mixture of surprise and quiet satisfaction within me.

Azriel, usually cloaked in shadows both literal and metaphorical, had a small, genuine smile playing at the corners of his lips. His usually guarded demeanor seemed to soften in her presence, and I couldn't help but notice the subtle shift in the air between them.

Their interaction spoke volumes, a silent language of understanding and companionship that transcended words. Despite the trials they had faced, there was a sense of comfort and familiarity in their shared laughter, a reminder that even in the darkest of times, there was still light to be found in the company of those we held dear.

As I joined them in the kitchen, a silent witness to their shared moment of joy, I couldn't help but feel a surge of gratitude for the bond that had formed between them. Their friendship had weathered storms that would have broken lesser souls, and yet here they were, laughing together as if the weight of the world had been lifted from their shoulders.

And as I observed them, surrounded by the warmth of their laughter and the comfort of their companionship, I couldn't help but feel a surge of hope for the future. For in the bond between her and Azriel, I saw strength, resilience, and the promise of brighter days ahead.

(Late Summer, The House of Wind)

The day had been long and daunting, with every passing moment feeling like a test of endurance. The worry from my friends was palpable, their concern etched into every glance and every word. It wasn’t that I didn’t appreciate their care—it was their hovering, their treating me like a fragile thing, that grated against my newfound sense of strength. But amidst it all, there was Azriel.

He stood as a steadfast anchor amidst the storm, a silent guardian who watched over me with unwavering determination. While others fretted and fussed, he remained at my side, a silent sentinel who seemed to understand without the need for words. His presence alone was enough to bolster my spirits, to remind me that I was not alone in this struggle.

Throughout the day, I found myself stealing glances at him, marveling at the depth of his care. How had I not noticed it before? His gaze lingered on me with a mixture of concern and understanding, his eyes a window to the depths of his soul. It was as if he saw straight through the facade I presented to the world, recognizing the strength within me even when I doubted it myself.

As evening descended and the weight of the day settled upon us, we retreated to the familiar sanctuary of my room. Azriel had made it his own, his presence a comforting presence in the darkness. The routine of preparing for bed had become second nature to us—changing into pajamas, brushing our teeth side by side, and slipping under the covers as Azriel performed his meticulous check of the room.

In the quiet moments before sleep claimed us, we lay in silence, each lost in our own thoughts. I couldn’t help but feel a sense of gratitude for Azriel's unwavering support, for his steadfast presence that had seen me through the darkest of days. It was a bond forged in the crucible of adversity, a connection that defied explanation yet felt more real than anything I had ever known.

“Azriel?” I called softly into the night, my voice barely a whisper.

He turned to me, his eyes reflecting the soft glow of the moonlight filtering through the window. For a moment, we simply gazed at each other, the weight of unspoken words hanging heavy in the air. And then, with a small smile, he reached out, pulling me closer until I was nestled against his chest.

At that moment, as I lay nestled against Azriel's chest, something shifted between us—a subtle yet profound change that altered the very fabric of our connection. It was as if the air crackled with an invisible energy, a tangible tension that seemed to draw us closer together.

I felt it first, the unmistakable sensation of the mating bond snapping into place with a sudden clarity that took my breath away. It was as if a veil had been lifted, revealing a truth that had always been there, hidden beneath the surface. The primal need to be close to him, to feel his presence as an extension of my own, suddenly made perfect sense.

And then, as if in response to my realization, Azriel let out a small gasp, his arms tightening around me with a fierce urgency that mirrored my own. It was a primal, instinctual reaction, as if some ancient part of him recognized the significance of this moment and refused to let me go.

In that instant, all doubts and uncertainties melted away, replaced by a profound sense of clarity and understanding. We were bound together, our souls intertwined in a way that transcended the physical realm. And as I gazed into Azriel's eyes, I knew that no matter what trials lay ahead, we would face them together, united by the unbreakable bond that now bound us.

"I'll protect you, ensure you are safe and happy and loved," Azriel vowed, his voice a soothing melody that wrapped around me like a warm embrace, promising sanctuary in the depths of his love.

Tears welled in my eyes as his words washed over me, a flood of emotions threatening to overwhelm my fragile resolve. "As will I," I replied, my voice trembling with the weight of my own commitment, my heart laid bare before him in a moment of raw vulnerability.

His eyes, pools of darkness tinged with golden fire, bore into mine with a fierce intensity, piercing through the walls I had built around my heart. "Throughout all the seasons you will be mine, if that is what you want?" His voice was a whisper, yet it echoed through the chambers of my soul, stirring something deep within me that I could no longer deny.

With a trembling breath, I reached out to him, my fingers trembling as they traced the contours of his face, memorizing every line, every scar, every shadow that danced across his skin. "There is no one else I would rather share them with," I confessed, my voice barely above a whisper, the truth of my words ringing out in the quiet room like a sacred vow.

And in that moment, as our souls intertwined in the golden threads of the mating bond, I felt a surge of emotion wash over me, overwhelming in its intensity. It was as if the weight of a thousand lifetimes had been lifted from my shoulders, replaced by a sense of peace and belonging that I had longed for all my life.

With tears streaming down my cheeks, I pressed my forehead against his, our breaths mingling in the space between us as we stood on the precipice of eternity. In that sacred embrace, we found refuge from the storms that had battered our souls, forging a connection that would endure the trials of time. And as we surrendered to the pull of the mating bond, our hearts beat as one, a symphony of love and devotion that echoed through the halls of the House of Wind.

Together, we would face the challenges that lay ahead, our bond a beacon of hope in the darkness, guiding us through the labyrinth of life with unwavering strength and unwavering love.

For in each other's arms, we had found our home, our sanctuary, our forever. And as the night enveloped us in its embrace, we knew that no matter what trials awaited us, we would face them together, united in a love that was destined to last for all eternity.

[PREVIOUS]

[whimsicalwritingsandmore]

Want You Back | ateez x reader

Pairing: werewolf!ot8!ateez x werewolf!reader

Genre: fluff mostly, romance, poly, a little angst?

Warnings: none

Word Count: 1317 words

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Epilogue

As if the world had been drained of all its colour, layers of grey, ominous and threatening storm clouds covered the skyline of Seoul with bitter winds shrieking through the city. Flashes of brilliant but powerful and menacing flares of lightning exploded through the sky followed by the force and fury of thunder filling everywhere with its roar. 

You’re standing in the centre of the abandoned street and in front of you, is yourself, looking like a ghost of the past, dressed in a beautiful glowy white off-the-shoulder dress of a flowery pattern and smiling at you somberly. You blink thrice, trying to make sense of what you’re seeing.

“It’s time.”

Jolting awake in your seat, you place your hand on your chest to regulate your irregular breathing. It happened again, another nightmare just like every night.

The lights in the plane are dimmed and it’s eerily silent as the rest of the passengers are either asleep or lost in whatever they’re doing. The atmosphere does not help your currently unsettled and uneased state. It’s raining softly outside and though the sound would usually be like a soft lullaby, this time, it instils an unnerving feeling.

Squinting at your phone in your half-conscious state, you note the date and time with a soft sigh escaping your lips; it’s 1AM on the 1st of March 2024. It had become a routine to wake up at this exact time every night. Usually you would be drenched in cold sweat with a flustering feeling of fear slowly creeping in. 

Your dreams felt very real, almost like a deja vu. They were ongoing for as long as you could remember. Initially, they started as ambiguous visions which were very vibrant and light. It felt like you were watching a version of yourself grow up in tandem with you. You were in places that sparked a sense of familiarity but you were unable to decipher the locations. In addition, you were meeting people that stirred an ardent feeling, and you felt like you had known them your whole life. You were unaware of who these other persons were. Whenever these particular persons entered, everything became hazy and obscure. 

After turning 20, the night terrors began and you experienced an opposite side of these dreams filled with heartbreak, pain and fear. Another group entered and provided some solace but then your most recent dreams consisted of a heart-wrenching and distressing situation where you found yourself laying on the ground covered in blood and ash, gazing at another figure right across from you who is also unconscious. You're calling for them but while your lips move, you can't hear the name. And then you fall into darkness and awake again.

Although you tried to boil down these hallucinations to a simple coincidence, you couldn’t. You were aware of your interesting birth. Firstly, on the night of your birth there was a torrential thunderstorm that appeared unexpectedly and grew into something of such force and fury, it drained the world of all its light. Secondly, in the city of Seoul, there had been a report of an attempted rebellion by an enigmatic group. Not much came out of it as many claimed it was heresy and the media reported it being a disagreement of a rowdy and drunk group of people that got out of control and ended up in property damages.

If that’s the case you shouldn’t be that bothered by it right? Wrong. Turns out, it was one of eight incidents that occurred within a three year span. And every night on your birthday, a dream of yours reaches its peak wherein you find yourself by a lake and a temple, and an apparition of you stands there with a pretty braid and decorated flower crown, and gold eyes staring right back at you with a smile. 

You read that gold eyes tended to belong to werewolves.

That’s when your mind would swirl right back to that night in Seoul. Rumours by some fanatics claimed it was an act to start a werewolf war and theorised that’s why there was hardly any evidence or traces. Though you weren’t one to suddenly believe in werewolves, something about that situation felt off to you.

When your parents articulated that your inclusion in the family business after university would primarily entail you overseeing the operations in Seoul, you were more than happy to hop on a plane. 

You wanted to know more about that night.

And you weren’t alone in it. Your close friend Bangchan whom you had grown up with, lived in Seoul. He was in a kpop group that currently had some time off before they prepared for their next big venture, a collaboration with two other kpop groups for a variety broadcast feature.

Returning to your seat, you attempted to relax yourself before your touchdown in Seoul. 

“Another bad dream?” a voice asked.

Turning to your right, you looked at your father’s trusted secretary who was accompanying you on the trip.

“Just the same old thing Mr Kim.” you answered softly.

Mr Kim had been working with your father for as long as you could remember. He appeared on the doorstep of your home one day with a bright smile, seeking employment as either a gardener or caretaker. Somehow he was able to help your father out of a bind with another company and become his right-hand man in all future business ventures. To you, he seemed like a real leader and was good at taking charge.

“Hm,” he hummed, “What’s the name of Chan’s group again? I can never remember.”

“They’re called Stray Kids,” you respond, pulling out a magazine from your bag, “That’s them.”

Mr Kim surveys the page you’re showing him before continuing.

“And they’re collaborating with two other groups for some showcase?”

“Mhm, one of the groups is called TXT.” you turn the page and point to another group.

“And the other?”

You flip through the pages to locate the other group. Truth be told, this group entices you in a way you can’t explain. But that’s the purpose of kpop groups anyway, as you always tell yourself.

“Ah there they are!” you muse, “That’s them.”

Mr Kim looks at the page and doesn’t say anything. He stares at it wistfully and pensively, tracing a finger over the one in the centre.

“What’s their group name?”

“Ateez,” you answer, “They’re called Ateez.”

-

Meanwhile, an angel stands near the Moon Goddess looking on at the situation.

“Are you sure about this?”

“I am.” the Moon Goddess answers.

“You’ve reset the timeline, changed the past and altered fate itself. How are you so sure about this?”

“I have not changed fate. They are the makers of their own fate. As for the timeline and the past, well, I’ve simply just tweaked it a bit.”

“Simply t-tweaked-” the angel stammers, “Do you even know what you’re saying?? You drastically changed the whole timeline. I don’t even know how this is going to turn out and neither does the author!”

The Moon Goddess turns to the angel confused, “What are you even saying Dongwook?”

“Nothing, sorry, I blabber nonsense when I’m stressed.”

“Look,” the Moon Goddess begins, “I know you have a lot of questions but be patient. All you need to know for now is that I’ve simply created an alternate timeline of the former and mirrored them, so that the events of the previous have now become their past lives.”

“So what happened in the previous timeline is now mirrored to have occurred on the night of their births?”

“Mhm, they’re right back where they should have been in the former timeline, where they were supposed to stay and settle. Now, they need to find each other again and make amends.”

“And teach those criminals a lesson!” the angel sneers.

“Yes,” the Moon Goddess smiles, “And a lesson they shall receive.”

End of Book 1.

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Book 2 Summary Preview:

A new timeline is created, and a new life awaits you. But your past ghosts haunt you deeply. Given the chance to visit Seoul, you seek answers for your weird dreams, but answers aren't the only thing that awaits you.

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a/n: ahhhhhhh I did it!! I actually completed my first story! didn't expect it to turn out like this but I'm excited to see where it goes :D thank you for joining me so far on this journey. <3 there's a lot I didn't include in book 1 that I know some of you was looking forward to and I'm truly sorry about that. I hope you will stick around for book 2 as I will be incorporating all what was left out. thank you for supporting me and thank you to those who recommended Want You Back in their recs list! :') <3 Stay tuned though! Chapter 1 of my new series The Hybrid House will be published soon! I'll leave a link here and come back to it as soon as it's out. See you soon! <3

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Taglist:

@eastleighsblog @sehun096rainbow @greensnakeglobep @satsuri3su @zonked-times @sugarrush-blush @lomons @explorewithd @chatsgotmytongue @scarfac3 @popcatx0 @angrynightnight @sannieluvrr @idfkeddieishot @alicia-dpa @park-simphwa @puppyminnnie @mysticfire0435 @sundayysunshine @chngbnwf @dementedaly @thunderous-wolf @itsmeregan @cookiechristie @hyukssunflower @lelaleleb

[itzrafee]

A thing on Uran and Helena in Pluto

Okay a short little thing on Pluto. Uran and Helena are my absolute favourite characters in Pluto. Urasawa has always had amazing side characters, from Mr. Rosso in Monster to Lee Harvey Oswald and Jackie in Billy Bat to God in 20th Century Boys, but very few have tied off the emotional ends of the story like Uran and Helena.

Maybe I'm projecting here but much like myself I feel like Urasawa is absolutely obsessed with Frankenstein. And he recognizes the influence Frankenstein has on Dr. Umataro Tenma. Or at the very least, the similarities between the two. And so when he made the protagonist of one of his most popular works Monster, Dr Kenzo Tenma, he solidified that connection. Kenzo Tenma calls back to Victor Frankenstein needing to end his creation while also calling back to Japan's other famous Tenma, thus making the connection explicit. Another throughline between the three of them is that all three are father figures to their creations and have obligations to their children, though all three have varying levels of success with them.

I've only read what I like to call Urasawa's "Core Four", conspiracy minded thrillers that are essentially road trips featuring usually two main protagonists that we see the world through, Monster, 20th Century Boys, Pluto and Billy Bat. Though I still haven't caught up to Asadora and that could still possibly fit this mold, Urasawa's Core Four share a lot of themes and ideas. One of the most important being the responsibility for one's creations, whether it was Kenji Endo and the Book of Prophecy or Kevin Yamagata and Billy Bat or Dr. Kenzo Tenma and Johan, all of his protagonists could arguably be seen as someone with the need to take up the responsibility of their creations. So where do the protagonists of Pluto fit in there? That's where Uran and Helena come in.

But first, we should take a look at Pluto's themes. While I could be wrong, at a cursory glance, I feel like the general consensus towards it's themes is that it's about hatred. I don't really think that's what it is as I feel like Urasawa is more trying to show us what it is to be human and what it is to be alive. And in that, he has a hidden protagonist in Pluto. Someone who's influence snakes through the plot and isn't seen much, but without who the story's themes would remain incomplete. Pluto tackles what it is to be alive through many things, such as memory, sadness, grief, hatred, love and parenthood. But none of that works without the realization by Tenma of his own mistakes. And Uran and Helena bookend these revelations and are absolutley key to understanding that.

In my favourite chapter of the series, Chapter 37, Uran goes from person to person as she finds a way to deal with her grief and eventually comes across Tobio's grave, Tenma having left recently. It's an absolutely beautiful chapter that shows Uran's humanity and Urasawa's love for sharing these kind and soft moments. But it also sheds a light on Tenma as Uran realizes someone who was grieving has just left. Without saying much at all we realize that Tenma has finally realized his mistakes. In the process of grieving one son, he lost the other. While remembering Tobio, he let Atom go. His grief towards Tobio is clear in the following chapter, Chapter 38. All of the things he wanted Atom to be; Tobio come back to life, Tobio's ghost punishing him, Atom rejected. And Tenma could only see that rejection, and not what he had, another son.

Uran shows us very clearly what Pluto, the story, is. It's a chapter in their lives. And we've come into a story nearing the end for Tenma. And it's through the humanity of two absolutely amazing characters in their own right, Uran and Helena, that we are able to so fully understand Tenma. Despite being robots, these two characters are the most alive of everyone. They love fully and freely and are catalysts of change. Uran's vibrant and full of life in a way that really sticks out. And Helena has such depth that it's evident in every scene she's in. She's not pointed out to be made by any famous scientist so all the life she has is her own. These two represent the life of robot's more than any other characters in the series.

So it's that much more poignant when Helena finally breaks down after putting on such a strong front of everybody. Grief intersects and she brings out Tenma's sadness as well. They've both been putting up such strong fronts that it's heartbreaking to see them collapse. It completes Tenma's growth and strikes a heartbreaking contrast between the two. Tenma became the way he is through the loss of his son whereas Helena doesn't even get to remember her own loss. It makes you wonder if the grief for her and Geischt's child compounds her sorrow too.

Without these two and their grief, a large part of Pluto becomes inaccessible. Pluto is largely about death so when two characters come in who've never had a hand in the grim work of taking life, you see the world through a lens that's absolutely crucial in order to fully connect with all of the character's and their situations. Death and Grief has scarred the characters in Pluto. Time and time again they've chosen the worst path. They've chosen revenge and hatred. But Uran and Helena are different. Without them, the story is incomplete. They provide an alternative. They provide the path towards healing.

im sorry for this one:

[bullet-prooflove]

Yours: Terry Silver x Reader (NSFW)

Tagging: @volumesofforgottenlore @kmc1989 @somethingdarkside17 @noonee333

The first time Terry takes you to bed it’s a seduction. It’s slow, roving  palms that chase over your body through the pretty floral dress you’re wearing, wandering lips that ghost along the curve of your jaw and down the hollow of your throat. Your skin feels like it’s on fire, the desire searing through your nerve endings. Your thighs straddle his hips on the couch that costs more than your entire apartment building back home in LA. He’s firm underneath you, hard relentless muscle that rubs just right against you as his fingertips begin to unfasten your dress.

It’s when the fabric begins to slide from your shoulders that you remember the underwear you’re wearing. Simple black cotton. You hadn’t expected to go to end up in his hotel suite tonight, on his lap, your whole body ablaze with pleasure.

“I’m sorry it’s not pretty.” You whisper as your dress flutters to the carpeted floor.

He looks up at you then, his vibrant blue eyes boring into yours as he cradles your face between his hands.

“Baby, you are the sexiest damn thing I’ve ever seen.”

You kiss him then because in that moment you believe him. You smile as he carries you to bed, his strong hands keeping you taut against him before he lays you down on the mattress. He doesn’t take his eyes off you, not as he unbuttons his shirt or when he removes his trousers. His black boxershorts cling to his form, his hard cock accentuated by the cut of the design.

“Christ you’re beautiful.” You find yourself saying as you kneel up on the bed, your fingertips ghosting along the pink scar that mars his flesh.

His cheeks colour as he leans in close, his lips brushing over yours.

“You know, you’re the first woman to ever tell me that.” He whispers as he drapes his body over yours.

“That can’t be right.” You tell him, your fingertips brushing a stray lock of hair back behind his ear. “You truly are the most handsome man.”

His lips curve up into smile as you arch against him, the press of molten flesh making your head tip back into the pillow as your breathing hitches.

“Oh baby.” He murmurs as his mouth chases over your bare skin. “You say the sweetest damn things.”

He ruins you that night, his lips exploring all of those sensitive places, his tongue plunging deep. You climax with your hands in his hair, his name on your lips and it just the most beautiful sound Terry’s ever heard.

You’re breathless as he kisses his way up your body, your skin flushing that pretty shade of pink as he prolongs out the ecstasy for as long as he can. His leaking cock brushes over your molten heat but he holds himself back because he’s ready to lose himself in you, to give you everything he has.

“This can’t be a one time thing.” He tells you, his thumb tracing over the apple of you cheek as he looks into your eyes. “If we do this then I belong to you and you belong to me. There is no going back.”

“Terry.” You smile as your thighs tighten around his waist. He moans out loud, burying his face into the curve of your throat as you draw him into your tight, wet cunt. “I was yours from the moment you sat down next to me.”

Love Terry S? Don’t miss any of his stories by joining the taglist here.

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Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee

[marasvenus]

A Message For Anyone About To Make A Big Change ┊ ༑ ࿐ྂ。

Disclaimer: This reading is for entertainment purposes only. Tarot readings are about possibilities based on your current energy. Energy is forever changing and nothing is set in stone. Always remember, you have your own free will to make whatever decision you feel is best.

Close your eyes, take a deep breath, envision the person you are thinking of and then choose the pile(s) you feel most drawn to.

If you would like a personal reading from me, you can get one here!

Cards: Knight of Wands, Eight of Cups, Six of Swords, Two of Wands, Page of Swords, King of Cups, Eight of Wands, The Chariot, Queen of Swords, Page of Cups, Six of Cups

Pile 1, it seems like you’re about to make a big change that involves stepping out of your comfort zone and leaving behind a lot of what you’ve always known. There doesn’t seem to me a lot of fear on your part though. Obviously fear is natural and I’m sure you do feel it to some degree but your energy seems to be more filled with excitement and passion. You have a drive and determination to pave your own way to a better future. There seems to be few doubts in your mind. The advice I’m getting for you is to not be afraid of seeking advice and connection from those around you. You may have pushed people away due to their fears or doubts towards your situation or because you felt you needed to go through whatever this change is completely alone and although some of that forward movement and cut off of communication was necessary, there may be people you’re shutting out unnecessarily. Specifically childhood friends or people you were close to growing up. Maybe you’ve been thinking of reaching out to an old friend from high school or someone you could always rely on as a child and I think that’s a good idea. Know that although this change may be good and for the better, that doesn’t mean you have to go through it alone or block out all negative emotions towards it. Allow yourself to feel whatever comes through and be kind and easy with yourself during this process. Plan carefully and know what you’re getting into before you dive head first into it and take necessary steps to make this change easier for you and your future self. Know everything will work out as it should.

Song: Waiting Room - Phoebe Bridgers

Cards: Six of Cups, The Hermit, Nine of Pentacles, The Chariot, Two of Pentacles, Five of Swords, Three of Wands, Four of Cups, Page of Pentacles, The Star, Wheel or Fortune, Ten of Wands, Two of Wands, Knight of Swords, Temperance

Pile Two, don’t give someone more of you than they are deserving of. You may be thinking of walking away or letting go of a connection that you’ve not be happy with for a long time. This could be a sort of situationship kind of relationship or something that’s just not come into fruition the way you have been wanting it to. Maybe this person led you on in the beginning and then just sort of ghosted or stopped putting energy into you and the connection and you’ve struggled with letting go but it’s important for you to know that it’s time and it’s okay to let go. You are so beautiful, vibrant, radiant, and abundant and deserving of show much more than anything this persons can give you. You deserve nothing less then the absolute best and you will find that but not with this person. Letting go is difficult but will be so incredibly worth it for you in the long term. Please know that just because this connection hasn’t worked out, doesn’t mean no connection will. I heard “there is abundance coming” and “you just have to go out and find it” don’t let this person and this connection hold you back any longer, you are deserving of so much more. Go out and find that so much more. The right person when come when the time is right, just spend time with and get to know yourself for now, pile 2. You’re definitely worth getting to know and spending time with, appreciate this time you have with yourself and don’t take it for granted.

Songs (you all are getting a playlist because I feel it might be needed):

There It Goes - Maisie Peters

Wendy - Maisie Peters

Waiting Room - Phoebe Bridgers

Vertigo - Griff

Bejeweled - Taylor Swift

History Of Man - Maisie Peters

Ceilings - Lizzie McAlpine

Cards: Three of Swords, The Hanged Man, Five of Wands, Nine of Pentacles, Knight of Wands, Two of Cups, Eight of Pentacles, Ten of Cups, Seven of Cups, Nine of Wands, Seven of Pentacles, Nine of Cups, The Lovers, Four of Cups, Four of Wands, Ace of Swords

Pile Three, I hope you’re doing alright. It seems like maybe you’ve recently gone through a big breakup or lost someone very close to you. For some of you this is coming out of a long term relationship, possibly one you got into early on in life and that’s become a huge part of your life and who you are as a person. For a select few of you this could be the loss of a mother figure (if this is the case then it has already happened so please do not stress or worry if this isn’t your situation. As I mentioned previously, it’s for a select few). No matter the situation, I want you to know I’m incredibly sorry you’re going through this and I’m sending you so much love and positive energy. I hope you’re doing as well as you can be during this time. Please be kind and gentle with yourself.

For the big change, it seems you’ve already gone through it but I want you to know that the worst is over and abundance is right around the corner. It seems you have a close friend or even sibling that you may be traveling with soon. Maybe you’ve been planning this trip or some sort of move abroad? Please take it. If this change was a loss of someone close to you, they want you to know that they don’t want you to stop living because they’re no longer here. Live your life to the fullest extent for them. There’s blessing and big things coming into your life from this person. This could be this trip. Some new opportunity that gives you the chance to branch out and truly live in a way that you’ve never lived before. To live in a way that feels like so much more than surviving.

If this was a breakup, you may not have felt seen or appreciated. I’m hearing “tolerate it” by Taylor Swift. This is your chance to give yourself the love you’ve been begging for from someone who would never provide it. Provide it for yourself, be there for yourself in a way that person never was. Give yourself the love you’ve been so deserving of this whole time. Take this time to not only strengthen your bond with yourself but with your friends and those close to you.

If you don’t have many close friends, this might be a good time to join a friend dating app or going out and doing things to meet other people would be nice. Give yourself connection with others. Put yourself out there and connect with people on a deeper level. Travel to another country and visit new places and see new things. Give yourself this experience because you are so deserving of it. This is the end of a difficult period and the start of a new, beautiful chapter, Pile Three, take this opportunity and live your life in the way that makes you feel happy and most fulfilled.

Song: You’re On Your Own, Kid - Taylor Swift

[thisisxli]

Crimson Kalon

.・✫・゜・。.

.・。.・゜✭・

Vocab:

Kalon - (n.) Beauty that is more skin-deep.

Rs: Ejiro Kirishima x Vamp!fem reader

Warnings:

slight stalking, biting,

blood, suggestive themes,

obsessive reader,

reader is kinda pervy,

slight ghosting, reader is

kind of a yandere

Summary: the reader who's a vampire in the quirk world, strangely has an obsession with a red spiky-haired man. Maybe it was in her blood to desire him for claiming the colour red or the way his antics had her heart blooming. What do you do when you take a few sips of his blood? Will it ruin your image and friendship?

Wc: 3.4k

ʚ ɞ

One-shot/drabble.

ʚ ɞ

You didn't know when it started. You didn't know how you ended up following him when school ended. Even when dorms were created, you found yourself drawn to his room. The time everyone was competing what room was best, you savored your sweet time wandering the small space. His room was rather eccentric.

Hagakure had caught you sniffing one of his belongings but that became a sworn secret between you two.

You remember seeing him for the very first time. Red was all you saw and maybe that's just what made you tingle inside, to form some kind of spark. No mortal made you feel this way, not unless you were drinking their blood of course. You swear you're not a bad guy but then again, it doesn't hurt to drink from somebody time to time. That's also what has you drawn, because he was so so nice.

"Heyy- (Y/N), right?"

Usually, nobody goes up to you first which was odd to you when he first spoke. It was like your name rolled off his tongue like a song was being sung and you loved every single part of it. Maybe it was your vampirism that was causing all this.

or maybe just the way his skin glistens when he's sweaty, rock hard abs flexing when he stretches.

You fawned over the boy every chance you got to your friends and honestly, they were kind of sick of it but you didn't care. Sometimes you've wondered

what did his blood taste like? Dark and metallic? Or thick as his ego? Oddly, your thoughts were drifting into... other thoughts. But that can hold another time when you both have the time and equally ready. At least you hoped.

When Aizawa is just lecturing his ass away in class, you can't help but stare at Kirishima across from class, biting your lip. Gosh, was he fine. You would stare at his neck the whole class time all while sinking a fang into your own lip, drawing blood. You were aware that some of your other classmates could see your little expressions but honestly, did you care what they think? That'll just show them how you want Kirishima, and maybe for him to be yours alone. The thought about sinking your fangs into his neck had you rolling your eyes back. To feel the sweet hot relief of his blood on your tongue.

Your stomach nearly jumps every time his vibrant eyes stare into yours, making you fiddle with your hands, wiggling your toes, or just biting your lip.

When you're training, he's just SOO...

You didn't even have the words.

Your fangs were unbreakable as were his body. It was almost like you were made for each other, you think.

One time when you felt bold, you scooped some blood from his finger when he got a paper cut, putting it in your mouth all while purposely trying to seem innocent.

"Sorry, Kiri! Couldn't help myself."

He blushed in return when he averted his gaze, rubbing the back of his head. "Yeah, it's- it's fine.."

His voice had you in shambles.

Right now, you were both training with each other. You were helping with his durability and endurance. And it just so happened that no one was around. Good for you.

You grunt when you swing a pillar at him, his arms making an 'X' to block from the attack. He was incredibly strong. That was also what you had admired about him and adore. You swing the pillar at him again, accidentally hitting the side of his neck. You gasp and quickly drop the pillar to the side, rushing to his side when he groans in pain and clutch in between his neck and shoulder.

"Kirishima! I'm- shit..! I'm so sorry-"

You hover over him, flailing your arms around. You did NOT mean to do that. Fucking shit, you were an idiot.

You watch him retreat from his hardened form before cracking his neck side to side. "Eh.. I'm fine I guess.. I didn't expect you to go that hard. And it wasn't really expected. I should've seen it coming, am I right?"

You swallow thickly when you see a cut on his cheek and on his neck. You honestly didn't mean to actually hurt him but damn.. Maybe it was worthwhile? "Can.. Can I see your wound?"

Kirishima looked up at you confused for a second before gently padding his neck. "O-oh! Yeah, sure, go right on ahead."

He chuckles awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck. You kneel down close in front of him. Your gaze fixates on his lips before his neck. "Kirishima.." He looks up at you again, a small lop-sided smile on his face. You gently wrap your hands around his head an shoulder, leaning your head down to his neck before you started drinking his blood. Kirishima, who was caught by surprise didn't know how to react. Should he pull you away? Probably. Yes. But it kind of felt nice. He doesn't know why it does but it just does.

He nearly couldn't suppress a whimper when he felt your tongue swirling around the small cut. Gently, he pushed you away from him. You let him do so, staring at him. Reality hit you like a brick. You feel embarrassment and shame grow inside every single one of your insides. Yet, Kirishima was in his own world, staring back at you. Your lips were covered in his blood. Butterflies danced around his lungs.

But before he could even stop you, you run away, wiping the remaining blood on your lips. Watching you run away kind of had him feeling bad. His hand reached out for you but he didn't get up to go chase after you. He'll talk to you tomorrow. Definitely. When everything in his head is sort out.

You lay in bed encased in your thoughts, reminiscing of the past events that just occurred. Gosh, that was fucking embarrassing. Who randomly latches themselves onto a classmate to drink their blood? Where was your filter? Self-control went out of the room.

Embarrassment ate away at your gut and you honestly wanted to bang your head against a metal wall.

The other side of you though, liked it. It was all your vampirism to blame. His blood was thick and savory on your tongue, skin so smooth and hard under your teeth, and the way his blood's metallic scent came seeping into your nose. The taste of his sweat. All of that got you excited. You rub your thighs together, one of your hands trailing up from your pelvis to your neck. You bite your bottom lip. Kirishima had this much of a effect on you which was beyond crazy. The thought of him excited you and you were here for it.

But honestly, your dignity was nearly gone after the embarrassment that occurred today so you had no idea how you were gonna face him the next few days.

The next two school days, you were avoiding him and you made sure you did it at all costs. He was confused and he felt like he personally hit home for you, he wanted to apologize but every time he approached you, you would immediately walk away. He was kind of butt-hurt, his ego busted when he had Tsu ask you what was going on and you said you just didn't want to talk to him.

He obviously wasn't going to give up that easily but jeez. He sighed, crossing his arms and rests his chin on top.

"Everything good?"

He shifts his head to the left, spotting his pink-haired friend. He sighed again, slightly pouting. "Yeah.. But (Y/N) won't talk to me after we trained alone together..

I feel like it's kind of my fault- but I mean, I know it isn't. But I kind of just feel bad, y'know?"

Mina nods in understanding, her hazel irises lingering on Kirishima for a moment. She sighs along with him, pondering for a moment. She wasn't best friends with you but you were both definitely close. She pinches her chins in between her fingers, looking up in the ceiling before looking back at Kirishima again, smirking. "Kirishima! I thought you were smart!"

He flinches in surprise, confusion written on all over his face. "Wha?- what are you talking about?"

"Context clues, idiot! It's so obvious!" She clenches both of her hands into a fist, waiting for Kirishima to get the hint. When two minutes pass, he still didn't get it. He was thinking long and hard. What could it have been?

Mina groans before leaning in and whispering in his ear, "she likes you, dumbass!" Kirishima's cheeks blaze up, matching his hair. "No way! You- you're joking!" Mina shakes her head at him, taking in his reaction.

"I'm not manly enough for her!" He looks away dramatically with closed eyes, one hand in a fist to his heart and the other stretched away towards Mina. "Oh get over it, Dorito Hair."

You, from the distance, hanging out with Tsu, Uraraka, and Hagakure, watched their whole interaction. You were across the room so you didn't really get to hear them, but seeing her so close to Kirishima had you fuming. "(Y/N).. hey.. Are you okay?" Uraraka looks at you with concern, nervously fiddling with her fingers when a sweat bead dribbles down her temple. "Yeah, you have this deadly scary look on your face, it's not cute!" You hear Hagakure chime in.

You hear the girls bicker about Hagakure's blunt comment but you could honestly care less. You grit your teeth when you see them lean in again, faces closer than ever. You scowl, moving your way past the girls. "(Y/N)! Hey wait!- are you oka-"

"I'm going to the bathroom!" You cut off Uraraka. You didn't mean to boast at her but honestly, seeing Kirishima and Mina's interaction had you beyond ticked off.

"So basically... When me and her were training, I got caught off guard for a little bit when I relaxed. My body wasn't completely hardened so when she striked at me, she gave me a crazy bruise and a few cuts. When she went ahead to check for the minor injuries.... She kinda just.. latched onto me and started drinking my blood."

"WHAAT??!"

Kirishima winces, piping his hand down, suggesting her to lower her volume. "Quiet down, will ya? I don't want anyone else to know this.. I know she's probably embarrassed by this, man.."

Mina shuts her mouth completely but is absolutely bewildered. She knew you had a fat crush on Kirishima but for you to be this crazy about him?!

"She must likes you tons!" Mina triumphantly stuck her thumb up, imaginative steam flaring out of her nostrils. Kirishima's cheeks heat up, scratching the back of his head. "I guess so.. I think I like her too. It was subtle before but that was just because we're doing hero stuff, y'know? But now I'm coming face-to-face with it. I don't know what to do, Mina- help me-" Kirishima whines, bowing his head down at her, clasping his hands in a prayer.

You came back in the room, ears hot as ever. What enraged you even more was when he was still close to her, but close at her boobs! That should be you! You felt embarrassment creeping up inside of you as your heart shrivels. Honestly, you didn't blame either of the two if they liked each other or if they were together. They went to the same middle school together and all. But you can't help but feel jealous; do you even have the right? You watch them talk more and more before seeing them glance back at you which they immediately look away, quickly to resort to whispering in each other's ears. Are you talking about you? Talking shit maybe? Shit, maybe he was talking shit about you, talking about the nasty encounter you guys had at training.

"Hey."

You turn, unknowingly teary-eyed, meeting Bakugou's red eyes. His brows weren't crinkled together and he held an unusual calm expression. "You like shitty-hair, don't you?" Your sullen expression quickly turning into a surprised one, your cheeks turning pink. "Wh-what?"

"I see the way you look at Shitty-hair. It's obvious you like him." When the fuck did Bakugou notice anything about you? When did he start to give a fuck?

"Don't get them wrong," he nods off past you, towards Mina and Kirishima who were still whispering to each other. "Kirishima likes you too. He probably doesn't know it yet, but he does. Whatever one of you idiots did that made you guys stop talking needs to step up. It's annoying having to watch this." Bakugou looks away when he shoves his hands in his pockets, a small scowl on his face. You were surprised. Was he giving you advice or a heads-up? Either way, this was.. a shocker, especially coming from him. A vein irked in his temple, gritting his teeth together. Andd.. There was his wrinkle. "At least say something you damn idiot!"

A week had gone by and before you knew it, it was New Years Eve.

There was a festival that was held out in the middle of Mutsufasu, about everyone in your class attended, including others from the other classes. The night had set in, leaving the stars to shine down above the light of the festival. Lanterns were being lit, booths and concessions were being held, and a lot of people were wearing yukatas and kimonos.

You were wearing a kimono with the color base being black, your haneri, obiage, and obijime being a scarlet red. Your obi was black with light ash brown coloured lines etched across with red detailed flowers adorning at the bottom of your kimono and sleeves. Your hair was up and done nicely with fake red and black flowers above your ear, some small pieces displayed on the other parts of your hair. You walked the streets with Uraraka, Midoriya, Lida, and Tsu, buying food and all sorts of things off the booths. You held a lantern in your left hand, light illuminating faces that passed by you.

Something red in the corner of your eye had you turn your head, meeting a pair of familiar crimson eyes. Your cheeks turned red deeply before quickly turning back to your friends.

Kirishima gazed at you softly, a small lop-sided smile on his face. He wore a deep red haori with a black himo, his hakama also being a pair of black. Honestly if you noticed his traditional clothes when you saw him, you would've thought you two were matching. He feels the back of his head being smacked, looking back at the perpetrator. "Stop ogling and keep moving, shitty hair."

Bakugou scoffs, crossing his arms across his yukata. "Sorry, man," Kirishima awkwardly laughs heartedly, rubbing his nape. They both continue walking before having more of their other friends join in with them; Mina, Denki, and Sero.

In the corner of your eye again, you see the pink and red figure oddly close. Your heart tugs at itself. It almost felt like hands were grabbing at it and stretching its' meaty flesh. You looked at them for a second, seeing him win a stuffed animal, giving it to her. He awkwardly rubs his neck before she jumps on him, hugging him tightly around the neck. It seems that you were wrong for thinking he even felt something for you. The subtle glances and the smiles directed towards you seemed to just be friendly. What part of you could've thought that anyway?

"I'm.. gonna go look around, okay? I'll meet with you guys later," you let your friends know, some of them shooting you a worried look before letting you go off in the crowd. Tears threaten to leave your eyes as you make your way past the crowd, fists clenching in hurt and anger. You shut your eyes, letting tears fall. Hopefully, no one saw. You didn't want to receive any weird or awkward looks from bystanders. You feel someone grab your wrist which you instinctively snatch back, looking back at who grabbed you. It was Bakugou, who had a sour expression on his face. You looked away in shame, rubbing your arms. "What did I tell you, dumbass? You should tell him. Stop bein' so insecure and stand up."

You frown warily, nodding, still avoiding his gaze. When he leaves your vision, you look back up. You notice that people were going into a more open space of the city, signaturing that the fireworks were gonna start. You huff before making your way to find your friends.

You see a kimono's sleeve waving up in the air before realizing it was Hagakure. You walk up to your friends, smiling and laughing on the way to an open field to see the fireworks. It started in fifteen minutes.

You were laughing with your friends, throwing your head back before feeling a warm hand on your shoulder. You wipe the joyful tears in your eyes as you turn your head, surprised when you see the same particular crimson eyes. "Kirishi-"

"Can I talk to you? Alone?"

You pause, remorse flickering across your features before turning to your friends which they nod in return. You sigh, standing up to your feet, following him as he leads you. You guys enter a building, which honestly had you nervous because were you even allowed to be in there?

You both stood in the elevator in silence before you guys exit, reaching a stair case. You guys step up before exiting through a door, a chilly breeze hitting your face. You guys were on top of a building.

"I wanted to talk to you.. about..." His breath hitches. You notice.

"About what happened back at training-"

"I'm sorry that I did that! I didn't- it was on impulse, I didn't mean to-"

He grabs your shoulders, forcing you to face him. "(Y/N)," he breathed, looking at you so tenderly. "I don't care.. that you did it. I just.. want things to be normal again." He inches his body closer to yours, his thumbs caressing your shoulders reassuringly. "I want to be close to you again."

His words were like hot fire melting the ice in your heart. Your lips quiver, eyes watering. How could something so small cause something so big and heartfelt for you? Was Kirishima important to you? What did he mean by 'close?' When you don't respond, still staring up into his eyes with teary ones, he continues, "I miss you. I..."

He pauses, his cheeks and ears turning red as time passes. "I want to be with you. You can drink my blood for as much as you want, I just- I don't know.."

"But-" your voice is shaky, you don't even care anymore because tears are pouring from your eyes. "What about Mina? Aren't you with her?" He looks at you confused for a moment before realization dawns on him, a sad expression fading into his face. "No. I'm not with her. She's one of my closest friends, she was just there when I needed somebody to go to... about you."

Blood rushes to your cheeks, Kirishima's hand going up to cup your cheeks, wiping your tear with his calloused thumb. "It's always been you."

"It's.. always been you too, Ki-"

"Eijiro."

You stare at him for a few seconds before nodding, "Eijiro." His name rolls off your tongue so foreignly but it felt so nice. His other hand gently makes his way around your waist, the hand on your cheek moving towards the back of your head. Your breath becomes heavy when you notice how close he was to you. "Eijiro..."

"Can I kiss you?" Kirishima blushes deeply, looking in your eyes with half-lidded ones.

You nod, feeling the radiation from his body. You feel his lips press against yours so gently, it makes you wraps your arms around his neck tightly. Fireworks went off when you both move your lips against each other's, your heart pounding against your chest as loud as the fireworks. This was so intimate for you, to share a kiss with someone you hold dear under the star sky, showered with fireworks.

You both seperate, letting out silent breaths you were holding in. He stared into your eyes so fondly, leaning in again, but not to kiss you. He just holds you there, face against his, lips just barely touching.

You swear you heard a 'I love you' push past his lips.

＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚　˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

A/N: I'm kinda glad how this turned out. Kirishima is one of my favs and deserves all the attention he gets. He can be dense a little bit sometimes but he gives off golden retriever boyfriend energy.

Bakugou was playing a little love matchmaker even though he dislikes love stuff. But he cares about his friends a lot

Writing this was fun and nice, it was kinda cute. I'm glad that its done tho, hope you enjoyed it. <3

[wandasreallover]

Restless love

Warnings:noneeee

Summary: you want attention, gerri wants to study you both know who is winning this argument. Infact its not an argument. Distractimg gerri from her studies is your forte and she wouldn't have it any other way

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The evening sun cast a golden glow through the curtained window of Gerri's study, illuminating the dust motes that danced lazily in the air. It was a quiet sanctuary filled with the scent of aged paper and ink, a sanctuary where Gerri Fields often lost herself in the realms of knowledge. The room was a testament to her dedication; shelves lined with textbooks, stacks of notebooks filled with her meticulous notes, and the remnants of late-night study sessions scattered about. Each item in the room spoke of her commitment to her studies, but it also whispered of the pressures that weighed heavily on her shoulders.

Gerri had taken on a demanding course load this semester, one that felt unrelenting and overwhelming at times. Each class was a challenge, and she often found herself buried under piles of assignments and exam preparations. She felt like a ghost haunting the library, drifting between the aisles of academia, rather than the vibrant person she knew existed beneath the weight of her responsibilities. Yet, every time she settled down to study, her thoughts drifted elsewhere-usually to the warmth of your presence, the laughter you shared, and the moments of joy that punctuated her otherwise studious life.

You lingered outside the doorway, biting your lip as you watched her scribble notes, the light streaming around her like a halo. Her dark hair was haphazardly tied up, wisps escaping to frame her face, giving her a charmingly disheveled look that made your heart race. You often found her beautiful, even in the depths of her grind-perhaps even more so, because she poured her heart into everything she did. There was something captivating about the way she focused entirely on her work, the intensity in her expression, the way her brow furrowed slightly as she concentrated.

As you leaned against the doorframe, you felt a familiar tug of longing to be closer to her, to pull her away from the confines of her studies, if only for a moment. You knew how hard she worked, how dedicated she was, and you admired her for it. But you also sensed that she needed a break, a moment of reprieve from the relentless tide of information that threatened to consume her.

"Gerri," you called softly, your voice breaking the quietness like fine china shattering on a hard surface. She glanced up, momentarily startled, her eyes wide with surprise before her lips broke into a small smile that made your heart flutter. That smile was everything to you; it was a reminder of the light she brought into your life.

"Hey," she said, pushing her glasses up the bridge of her nose, a gesture that always made you smile. "What's up? I'm kind of in the middle of this-"

"I know," you interrupted, stepping into the room, your heart pounding with anticipation as you entered her sacred space. "But I have a proposition for you. How about you abandon your precious studies for a bit and lay with me?" The hopeful glimmer in your eyes was unmistakable, a playful twinkle of mischief dancing there.

Gerri arched an eyebrow, half-amused and half-exasperated, her lips curving in a way that suggested she was both annoyed and charmed. "You know I can't just abandon them. I have a quiz tomorrow, remember? I'm never going to make it through if I keep getting distracted."

"Just for a little while," you pressed, walking over to her desk and leaning down so that your face was just inches from hers, your breath mingling in the space between you. "I promise I won't fall asleep. You can even quiz me."

She chuckled softly, the sound like a gentle breeze rustling through trees, and you couldn't help but grin at her. "And what if you do fall asleep? You know you always do when you get comfortable."

"Then you'll just have to make sure I stay awake," you shot back with a playful grin, nudging her shoulder gently. "Besides, I just want to be close to you."

Gerri hesitated for a moment, her focus wavering as she scanned the piles of books that surrounded her. The words blurred together, but your warm gaze held her captive, the longing in your eyes making her heart race in a way no number of textbooks ever could. She found herself wanting to give in, to escape the pressure of expectations and responsibilities, if only for a moment. Finally, she sighed, a reluctant yet affectionate smile gracing her features. "You're impossible, you know that?"

"Perhaps," you admitted, practically bouncing on the balls of your feet in excitement. "But I'm your impossible."

"Fine," she relented with a theatrical roll of her eyes, a gesture that only made you laugh. "Ten minutes. Then I'm back to studying."

You grinned and leaped onto the bed, throwing the blankets to the side as you patted the space beside you with a dramatic flourish. "Deal!"

It took Gerri no time to abandon her case of books. The moment she settled next to you, it was as if the world stood still. The warm glow of the evening sun enveloped you both, creating a cocoon of comfort in the room. She glanced over at you, finding solace and comfort in your presence. You nestled against her, resting your head on her shoulder, inhaling the sweet scent of shampoo that lingered in her hair, a familiar aroma that always made you feel at home. The tension of the evening seeped away as you both shared quiet laughter and soft whispers, the worries of the world fading into the background.

"See? Isn't this better than studying?" you murmured, your voice muffled against her.

Gerri chuckled, running her fingers through your hair absentmindedly. "I suppose it is... but I still have an exam to study for." Nevertheless, a small part of her cared less and less about her studies as she felt the beat of your heart against her chest, a rhythm that calmed her racing thoughts.

"Just close your eyes for five minutes," you whispered, lifting your head just enough to gaze deeply into her eyes, your fingers tracing the outline of her jaw. "Please."

She sighed but couldn't resist the pull of your presence. As Gerri closed her eyes, you shifted in closer, resting your head more comfortably against her chest. Time seemed to stretch around the two of you in the cocoon of togetherness, the outside world dimming in importance as she slowly relaxed, your gentle heartbeat lulling her into a light daze.

But ten minutes turned into twenty, and then into an hour, as her thoughts of quizzes and chapters faded away, replaced instead by the sound of your soft breaths. The warmth radiating from Gerri and the soothing tranquility of the moment tugged at you, beckoning you to give in to exhaustion. You fought against it valiantly for as long as you could, but the soothing rhythm of her heart beneath your ear began to slow your thoughts and quiet your mind.

"Don't fall asleep," Gerri murmured half-heartedly, her voice laced with sleepiness, "or else... I'll be forced to study without you."

But your eyes fluttered shut against your will, cheek pressed against the fabric of her shirt. Before you could finish forming a coherent thought, the darkness enveloped you, and you slipped into a world of dreams.

Sometime later, you felt a gentle nudge against your side, coaxing you back to consciousness. Your eyes blinked open slowly to the sight of Gerri smiling down at you, her hair spilling over her shoulder like a waterfall of night.

"Gerri?" you mumbled, still groggy. "Did I fall asleep?"

She laughed, a bright sound that chased away the remnants of slumber, and you couldn't help but smile back. "Just a little. I've been studying for ages now."

"Sorry," you said sheepishly, stretching your arms above your head. "I promised I wouldn't... but you're so comfortable."

"Oh, don't apologize," she replied softly, brushing a stray strand of hair behind your ear with a tender smile. "I'd rather have you here than any of those books anyway."

You smiled at her words, feeling warmth bloom in your chest, a sense of belonging washing over you. "Then let's make a deal. I'll keep you company while you study, and we'll take breaks to cuddle. It's the best of both worlds!"

Gerri looked thoughtful for a moment, her eyes sparkling with a mix of affection and mischief. "Alright, you have a deal, my impossible love."

As she leaned in closer, you wrapped your arms around her, and the sunlight poured in once again, warming the room with the promise of shared laughter and whispered dreams.

The evening wore on, and the study became a sanctuary, a place where the world outside faded away, leaving only the two of you and the gentle hum of your connection. Gerri reached for her textbooks, but instead of diving back into her studies, she found herself stealing glances at you, her mind drifting from equations and theories to the way your eyes sparkled when you laughed, the way your smile lit up the room.

"What are you thinking?" you asked, noticing her gaze lingering on you.

"I was just thinking about how nice it is to have a break," she admitted, a shy smile crossing her lips. "And how much I appreciate you being here."

You chuckled, your heart swelling. "I could say the same. You work too hard, you know that? You deserve to take a break every now and then."

Gerri sighed, her expression shifting slightly as she fiddled with the corner of her notebook. "I know, but I just want to do well. I feel so much pressure to keep my grades up, to prove that I can handle everything."

"Hey," you said softly, tilting her chin up so that she was looking directly at you. "You don't have to prove anything to anyone. You're already amazing just as you are. Your hard work shows in everything you do."

She blinked, taken aback by the sincerity in your voice. "You really think so?"

"Absolutely," you replied, your gaze steady and warm. "You're brilliant, Gerri. But even the brightest stars need a little time to shine without the pressure."

Gerri smiled, her cheeks flushing slightly at your words. "You always know how to make me feel better."

"That's my job," you said, grinning. "To support you, to remind you to take a break and breathe."

With a soft laugh, she leaned into you, resting her head on your shoulder again. "Okay, okay, you win. I'll take a break. But only because you're here."

You both settled into a comfortable silence, the only sounds being the gentle rustle of pages turning and the occasional soft laugh that escaped your lips as you exchanged stories about your day. Gerri shared anecdotes about her classes, her professors, and the colorful characters she encountered at the library, each story painting a vivid picture of her life outside the confines of study.

"And then there was this one time when I accidentally spilled coffee all over my notes right before a presentation," she said, giggling at the memory. "I thought I was going to die of embarrassment!"

You laughed along with her, picturing the scene in your mind. "What did you do?"

"I had to improvise! I ended up making up a whole story about how the coffee spill was a metaphor for the chaotic nature of research," she said, beaming with pride. "Somehow, I think I even got a good grade on it."

"See? You're resourceful. You've got this!" you encouraged, nudging her playfully. "Next time, just keep a spare cup of coffee nearby for dramatic effect."

"Right? The ultimate study hack!" Gerri chuckled, shaking her head. "But really, I appreciate you being here to listen. Sometimes, it feels like I'm doing all of this in a vacuum."

You nodded, understanding the weight of her words. "It can be isolating, especially when you're so focused on your studies. But remember, you're not alone. You have me, and I'm always here for you."

A comfortable silence settled between you again, but this time, it felt different-deeper, more intimate. The golden light of the setting sun bathed the room in warmth, and you couldn't help but feel grateful for this moment. You had always cherished the time you spent with Gerri, the way she made even the most mundane moments feel special.

As the sun dipped lower in the sky, casting long shadows across the room, Gerri shifted slightly, a thoughtful look crossing her face. "You know, I sometimes wonder what it would be like if I didn't have all these responsibilities. What if I could just... be?"

"What do you mean?" you asked, intrigued.

"I mean, what if I could just explore and travel, experience life without the constant pressure of exams and grades?" she mused, her eyes sparkling with a hint of longing. "What if I could just focus on the things that make me happy?"

"Then let's do it," you said, your voice steady and confident. "Let's make a plan. We could take a weekend trip somewhere, just to unwind and explore. It could be a mini-adventure!"

Gerri's eyes widened with surprise, and then a slow smile spread across her face. "You'd really want to do that?"

"Of course! I want to see you happy, Gerri. And if that means escaping for a bit and experiencing life outside of studying, I'm all in," you replied, your enthusiasm infectious.

She considered this for a moment, her expression shifting from surprise to excitement. "That sounds amazing! I've always wanted to explore the coast. Maybe we could go hiking or visit some cute little towns?"

"Absolutely! We could pack a picnic, find a nice spot by the water, and just relax," you suggested, your mind racing with possibilities.

"Yes! And we could take photos, make memories, and just enjoy each other's company," she said, her voice filled with enthusiasm. "It sounds perfect!"

The thought of a spontaneous adventure filled you both with a sense of anticipation and excitement, a welcome change from the routine that had become all too familiar. In that moment, the weight of her studies seemed to lift, if only for a little while, and the prospect of exploring the world together became a beacon of hope.

As the sun began to set, painting the sky in hues of orange and pink, Gerri turned to you, her eyes sparkling. "Thank you for always being there for me. I don't think I say it enough, but it means the world to me."

You smiled, feeling warmth bloom in your chest at her words. "You don't have to thank me. I care about you, Gerri. That's what love is all about."

With a soft blush, she reached for your hand, intertwining her fingers with yours. The simple gesture felt electric, a connection that transcended words. You both sat there, hand in hand, as the evening deepened around you, the room slowly filling with twilight.

"Do you remember the first time we met?" Gerri asked, her voice soft and nostalgic. "I was so nervous about starting my classes, and you just came up and introduced yourself like it was the easiest thing in the world."

"Of course! You looked so overwhelmed, and I thought, 'I have to help her,'" you replied, chuckling at the memory. "I was so drawn to your passion for learning, even then. It was like you had this light about you."

She smiled, her cheeks flushing slightly at the compliment. "And I remember thinking how kind and approachable you were. It made such a difference in those first few weeks."

The conversation flowed easily, memories weaving a tapestry of shared experiences that brought you closer together. You talked about your hopes and dreams, your fears and insecurities, and the things that inspired you both. Every laugh, every shared secret felt like another thread binding your hearts together, creating a bond that felt unbreakable.

As the night deepened, the stars began to twinkle outside the window, casting a soft glow across the room. You turned your gaze to Gerri, watching as she leaned back against the headboard, her eyes shining with warmth and affection.

"Can I tell you a secret?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

"Of course," you replied, leaning in closer, eager to hear what she had to say.

"I sometimes worry that I'm not enough, that I'm not living up to everyone's expectations," she confessed, her voice tinged with vulnerability. "I feel like I should be achieving more, doing better, and it can be overwhelming."

Your heart ached for her, understanding the weight of those words all too well. "Gerri, you are more than enough. You don't have to prove anything to anyone. Your worth isn't tied to your grades or accomplishments. You are brilliant, kind, and so incredibly capable."

Tears glistened in her eyes as she absorbed your words, and you reached out to gently cup her face in your hands. "Just remember, I'm here for you. You don't have to carry that burden alone."

Gerri leaned into your touch, her breath catching slightly as she fought back tears. "Thank you for always seeing me, for always believing in me."

"I'll always believe in you," you promised, your voice steady and sincere. "And I'll always be right here by your side, cheering you on."

The moment hung between you, charged with emotion and understanding. You both knew that life could be challenging, but in that moment, it felt like nothing could come between you. You wrapped your arms around her, pulling her close, wanting to shield her from the worries that plagued her mind.

As you held her, your heart swelled with love and admiration. You wanted to be her safe haven, a place where she could find comfort and solace amidst the chaos of life. You wanted to remind her that it was okay to take a step back, to breathe, and to simply be.

The two of you settled into a comfortable silence, the soft sound of your breaths mingling in the air. The world outside continued to fade away, leaving only the warmth of your connection and the promise of a brighter tomorrow.

But as the minutes turned into hours, the weight of Gerri's studies began to creep back into the room, a reminder of the responsibilities that awaited her. You sensed the shift in her mood, the flicker of anxiety that crossed her face as she glanced at the pile of textbooks still waiting for her attention.

"Hey," you said gently, brushing your fingers against her arm. "We can take a break from studying for a little while longer, right? We have time."

She nodded, a small smile breaking through the tension. "You're right. I just get so wrapped up in everything, and it's hard to pull myself away."

"Let's make a pact," you suggested, your eyes gleaming with determination. "No more studying tonight. We'll focus on enjoying each other's company and making memories. Tomorrow, we can tackle the textbooks together."

Her smile widened, and you could see the weight begin to lift from her shoulders. "That sounds perfect. I'd rather spend time with you than be buried in those books any day."

"Then it's settled," you declared, feeling a sense of satisfaction wash over you. "Tonight is all about us."

With that, the two of you settled into a comfortable rhythm, sharing stories, laughter, and dreams. The night unfolded like a beautiful tapestry, each moment weaving together to create a vivid picture of love and companionship.

As the stars twinkled outside the window, you both talked about your aspirations, the places you wanted to visit, and the adventures you dreamed of embarking on together. Each shared dream felt like a promise, a glimpse into a future filled with possibilities.

Gerri's laughter rang out like music, and you felt a warmth spreading through you as you watched her come alive in the moment. She was radiant, and you couldn't help but feel grateful for the connection you shared.

As the hours passed, the world outside faded into a distant memory, and the only thing that mattered was the warmth of her presence beside you. You cherished the way she looked at you, the way her laughter filled the room, and the comfort of simply being together.

Eventually, the conversation began to slow, and you both found yourselves lost in the comfortable silence that enveloped you. Gerri leaned her head against your shoulder once more, her eyes growing heavy with sleep.

"Stay with me?" she whispered, her voice barely audible, a hint of vulnerability lacing her words.

"Always," you replied, wrapping your arms around her protectively. "I'm right here."

As Gerri closed her eyes, you felt a sense of peace wash over you. The world outside may have been filled with challenges and responsibilities, but in this moment, everything felt perfect. You were exactly where you were meant to be, and you wouldn't trade it for anything.

But ten minutes turned into twenty, and then into an hour, as her thoughts of quizzes and chapters faded away, replaced instead by the sound of your soft breaths.

The warmth radiating from Gerri and the soothing tranquility of the moment tugged at you, beckoning you to give in to exhaustion. As you promised, you fought it valiantly for as long as you could, but the soothing rhythm of her heart beneath your ear began to slow your thoughts and quiet your mind.

"Don't fall asleep," Gerri murmured half-heartedly, her voice laced with sleepiness, "or else... I'll be forced to study without you."

But your eyes fluttered shut against your will, cheek pressed against the fabric of her shirt. Before you could finish forming a coherent thought, the darkness enveloped you, and you slipped into a world of dreams.

Sometime later, you felt a gentle nudge against your side, coaxing you back to consciousness. Your eyes blinked open slowly to the sight of Gerri smiling down at you, her hair spilling over her shoulder like a waterfall of night.

"Gerri?" you mumbled, still groggy. "Did I fall asleep?"

She laughed, a bright sound that chased away the remnants of slumber, and you couldn't help but smile back. "Just a little. I've been studying for ages now."

"Sorry," you said sheepishly, stretching your arms above your head. "I promised I wouldn't... but you're so comfortable."

"Oh, don't apologize," she replied softly, brushing a stray strand of hair behind your ear with a tender smile. "I'd rather have you here than any of those books anyway."

You smiled at her words, feeling warmth bloom in your chest, a sense of belonging washing over you. "Then let's make a deal. I'll keep you company while you study, and we'll take breaks to cuddle. It's the best of both worlds!"

Gerri looked thoughtful for a moment before nodding. "Alright, you have a deal, my impossible love."

As she leaned in closer, you wrapped your arms around her, and the sunlight poured in once again, warming the room with the promise of shared laughter and whispered dreams. You both knew that life could be challenging, but in that moment, it felt like nothing could come between you. You were ready to face whatever came next, as long as you had each other.

In the days that followed, you and Gerri began to find a balance between her studies and your time together. You made it a point to carve out moments for each other amidst the chaos of life. Whether it was a spontaneous study session with snacks, a walk through the park, or simply curling up on the couch with a movie, each moment felt like a small victory.

One evening, as the two of you worked side by side at her desk, Gerri suddenly looked up from her notes, a spark of inspiration lighting up her eyes. "What if we turned our study breaks into mini-adventures? Like, we could go explore a new café or a bookstore every week!"

You grinned at her enthusiasm. "That sounds amazing! I'm all for it. It'll give you something to look forward to while you study."

Gerri beamed, her excitement infectious. "Yes! And we can try new things, discover hidden gems in the city. It'll be a fun way to reward ourselves for all the hard work!"

"Definitely! We'll make a list of places to check out, and we'll become the ultimate study-adventure duo," you said, feeling a rush of excitement at the thought of exploring together.

As the weeks went by, your little adventures became a cherished routine. You discovered cozy cafés with the best pastries, tucked-away bookstores filled with stories waiting to be uncovered, and parks that offered a peaceful escape from the hustle and bustle of daily life. With each outing, Gerri's stress seemed to melt away a little more, her laughter ringing through the air like a melody.

One afternoon, you found yourselves at a quaint little café, sipping on steaming cups of coffee while indulging in decadent desserts. The ambiance was perfect, with soft music playing in the background and the scent of freshly brewed coffee wafting through the air.

"This place is amazing," Gerri said, her eyes sparkling as she took in the surroundings. "I can't believe we've never been here before!"

"I know, right? It's like a hidden treasure," you replied, grinning at her enthusiasm. "I'm glad we decided to explore."

As you both savored your treats, Gerri leaned back in her chair, a thoughtful expression on her face. "You know, I think these little adventures have really helped me. I feel so much more focused and motivated when I come back to study."

"See? You're not just a study machine; you're allowed to enjoy life too!" you teased gently, and she laughed, the sound brightening the atmosphere around you.

"True! You've opened my eyes to the importance of balance," she admitted, her gaze softening as she looked at you. "Thank you for encouraging me to take breaks and explore. It's made such a difference."

"It's my pleasure," you replied, your heart swelling with warmth. "I just want to see you happy. And besides, I get to enjoy these adventures with you!"

A comfortable silence settled between you, filled with the sounds of clinking cups and laughter from other patrons. You watched as Gerri took a sip of her coffee, a small smile lingering on her lips. In that moment, you couldn't help but feel grateful for the connection you shared, the way it had blossomed into something truly beautiful.

As the weeks turned into months, Gerri's confidence began to flourish alongside her studies. She tackled her coursework with renewed energy, and her determination only seemed to grow stronger. You watched in awe as she excelled in her classes, her hard work paying off in ways that made her shine.

And yet, amidst all the achievements, you felt a sense of pride in knowing that you had played a part in her journey. You had supported her, cheered her on, and reminded her of the importance of balance. It felt incredible to witness her growth, her transformation into the brilliant, confident woman you always knew she could be.

One evening, as you both sat together on her bed surrounded by textbooks and notes, Gerri looked up from her work, her expression serious. "I've been thinking a lot lately about what I want to do after graduation."

You felt a flicker of curiosity. "Oh? What's on your mind?"

"I want to pursue a career that allows me to make a difference, to help others," she said, her voice steady. "I've been considering going into research or maybe even teaching. I want to share my passion for learning with others and inspire them, just like you've inspired me."

Your heart swelled with pride as you listened to her words. "That sounds incredible, Gerri. You'd be an amazing teacher, and your passion would light up any classroom."

She smiled, her eyes shining with conviction. "I hope so. I just want to make an impact, even if it's in a small way. I want to help students find their love for learning, just like I did."

"You're going to do great things, I have no doubt about that," you said, reaching out to take her hand. "And I'll be right there cheering you on every step of the way."

Gerri squeezed your hand, her warmth radiating through the space between you. "Thank you. Your support means everything to me."

As the evening wore on, you both settled into a comfortable routine, exchanging ideas and discussing the possibilities that lay ahead. The dreams you shared felt like promises, a glimpse into a future filled with hope and endless potential.

But as the weeks turned into months, the weight of Gerri's studies began to creep back into the room, a reminder of the responsibilities that awaited her. You sensed the shift in her mood, the flicker of anxiety that crossed her face as she glanced at the pile of textbooks still waiting for her attention.

"Hey," you said gently, brushing your fingers against her arm. "We can take a break from studying for a little while longer, right? We have time."

She nodded, a small smile breaking through the tension. "You're right. I just get so wrapped up in everything, and it's hard to pull myself away."

"Let's make a pact," you suggested, your eyes gleaming with determination. "No more studying tonight. We'll focus on enjoying each other's company and making memories. Tomorrow, we can tackle the textbooks together."

Her smile widened, and you could see the weight begin to lift from her shoulders. "That sounds perfect. I'd rather spend time with you than be buried in those books any day."

With that, the two of you settled into a comfortable rhythm, sharing stories, laughter, and dreams. The night unfolded like a beautiful tapestry, each moment weaving together to create a vivid picture of love and companionship.

As the stars twinkled outside the window, you both talked about your aspirations, the places you wanted to visit, and the adventures you dreamed of embarking on together. Each shared dream felt like a promise, a glimpse into a future filled with possibilities.

Gerri's laughter rang out like music, and you felt a warmth spreading through you as you watched her come alive in the moment. She was radiant, and you couldn't help but feel grateful for the connection you shared.

Eventually, the conversation began to slow, and you both found yourselves lost in the comfortable silence that enveloped you. Gerri leaned her head against your shoulder once more, her eyes growing heavy with sleep.

"Stay with me?" she whispered, her voice barely audible, a hint of vulnerability lacing her words.

"Always," you replied, wrapping your arms around her protectively. "I'm right here."

As Gerri closed her eyes, you felt a sense of peace wash over you. The world outside may have been filled with challenges and responsibilities, but in this moment, everything felt perfect. You were exactly where you were meant to be, and you wouldn't trade it for anything.

In the days that followed, you and Gerri continued to navigate the delicate balance between her studies and your time together. The little adventures you embarked on became cherished memories, each outing strengthening the bond between you.

But as Gerri's exams approached, the stress began to mount once again. You could see the familiar signs-the way her brow would furrow in concentration, the way she would bite her lip when she was deep in thought. It broke your heart to see her so overwhelmed, and you knew you had to step in.

One afternoon, as Gerri sat surrounded by textbooks, her eyes glazed over from hours of studying, you approached her with a determined look on your face.

"Gerri," you said firmly, catching her attention. "It's time for a break."

She looked up, surprise etched on her features. "But I can't! I have so much to cover before the exam tomorrow."

"Exactly! That's why you need a break," you insisted, reaching for her hand. "You can't cram everything in at once. Your brain needs time to process."

She hesitated, her eyes filled with uncertainty. "I don't know..."

"Trust me," you said softly, squeezing her hand reassuringly. "Let's go for a walk. Fresh air will do you good."

After a moment of contemplation, she sighed and nodded, reluctantly setting her notes aside. "Okay, but just a short one."

You beamed, knowing you had won this small victory. "Perfect! Just what the doctor ordered."

As you both stepped outside, the sun bathed the world in a warm glow, and you took a deep breath, inhaling the crisp air. Gerri walked beside you, her shoulders relaxing slightly as you ventured into the nearby park, a favorite spot of yours both.

The vibrant colors of the flowers and the sound of birds chirping filled the air, a reminder of the beauty that existed outside of the textbooks and notes. You led Gerri to a quiet bench, and you both sat down, letting the serenity of the moment wash over you.

"See? Isn't this nice?" you asked, glancing at her.

Gerri smiled, her expression softening as she took in the scene. "It is. I didn't realize how much I needed this."

"Sometimes, you just need to step away from it all," you replied, your voice gentle. "You're doing amazing, but you can't forget to take care of yourself too."

She nodded, her gaze thoughtful. "You're right. I get so caught up in my studies that I forget to take a step back."

You watched as she took a deep breath, the tension in her shoulders easing. "This is what life is about, Gerri. Finding that balance between work and play, between studying and living."

"I appreciate you reminding me of that," she said, her eyes warm with gratitude. "I don't know what I'd do without you."

You smiled, feeling a rush of affection for her. "You don't have to worry about that. I'm here for the long haul."

As the sun began to set, casting a golden hue across the park, you found yourselves lost in conversation once again. You talked about your dreams, your fears, and everything in between. The connection you shared felt stronger than ever, a bond forged through laughter and understanding.

Eventually, the shadows began to lengthen, and you both knew it was time to head back. As you walked hand in hand, you felt a sense of contentment wash over you. You had managed to pull Gerri away from her studies, even if just for a little while, and it had made all the difference.

When you returned to her study, Gerri picked up her notes with renewed energy, her eyes sparkling with determination. "Thank you for that. I really needed it."

You grinned at her, feeling a sense of pride. "Anytime. Now, let's tackle those textbooks together!"

As the two of you settled in for another study session, you couldn't help but feel grateful for the connection you shared. No matter how challenging life became, you knew that as long as you had each other, you could face anything.

The days turned into weeks, and soon enough, the day of Gerri's exam arrived. The anticipation hung thick in the air as she prepared for the final stretch of her studies. You could see the nervous energy radiating from her, and you wanted to do everything in your power to help her relax.

"Hey," you said gently, catching her attention as she paced back and forth in her room. "Take a deep breath."

She paused, her shoulders tense, and looked at you. "I'm just so worried."

"I know. But remember all the work you've put in? You're going to do great," you assured her, stepping closer. "You've got this."

Gerri took a deep breath, her expression softening slightly. "You really think so?"

"Absolutely," you replied with conviction. "And no matter what happens, I'm proud of you. You've worked so hard."

As the hours ticked by, you both spent the time before the exam reviewing her notes and quizzing each other. You could see her confidence growing, her nerves settling as she focused on the material.

Finally, the moment arrived for Gerri to head to her exam. As she gathered her things, you felt a mix of excitement and anxiety for her. "You're going to crush it," you said, your voice steady.

Gerri smiled, her eyes shining with determination. "Thank you for everything. I couldn't have done this without your support."

"Just remember to breathe and take your time," you reminded her, placing a reassuring hand on her shoulder. "You've got this."

With one last hug, Gerri headed out the door, and you watched her go, feeling a swell of pride in your chest. You knew she was ready to conquer whatever challenges lay ahead.

The hours that followed felt like a blur as you waited for her to return. You paced around your room, thoughts racing through your mind. You couldn't help but wonder how she was doing, if she was feeling confident, and if all her hard work was paying off.

Finally, the door opened, and Gerri stepped inside, her expression a mix of relief and exhilaration. "I did it!" she exclaimed, her voice filled with energy.

You rushed over, wrapping her in a tight embrace. "I knew you could! How did it go?"

She pulled back, her eyes sparkling with excitement. "I felt so prepared! I think I did really well."

"See? I told you!" you said, beaming at her. "I'm so proud of you."

Gerri laughed, the sound bright and full of joy. "I couldn't have done it without you cheering me on. You were my secret weapon!"

You both settled onto the couch, she leaned in closer, you wrapped your arms around her, and the sunlight poured in once again, warming the room with the promise of shared laughter and whispered dreams. And in that perfect moment, everything felt effortlessly right—the studies could wait, but this… this was what mattered most

[ladychota]

Come Home

Pairing - Loki x Reader

Warnings - Angst, shouting, Loki being upset, Y/n going missing/running away, crying (let me know if there's anything you want added)

Summary - Y/n left Loki to keep him safe and prevent him from getting hurt, but her actions had the opposite effect.

Word Count - 1.1k

A/N - If you want to be added to the tag list then let me know!

Masterlist

Carefully prying the window open, you slip inside the room that's given you nightmares for the past few months. Okay, perhaps they're the exact opposite of nightmares - they're beautiful dreams of you and him dancing, smiling, laughing in this very room. But they remind you of what you've lost, each and every moment haunting you like a ghost.

You look around - almost everything is exactly as you remember, though slightly more unkempt and rather... lifeless. This room alone used to be warm and bright and lived in, the walls full of colour and the air full of sweet smells of food or perfume. 

But now the air holds a biting cold; long, dark shadows spread across the floor and walls, sucking out all of the colour that once lit up your life. You can only smell him - that heavenly yet poignant aroma that sits quietly on blankets void of warmth and surfaces void of use. The bed looks slept in, but only on one side: your side. You sigh as those familiar daggers begin to prod once more at your scarred heart.

You daren't venture further into the house, lest your resolve finally crumbles at the sight of it all; or, perhaps worse, if he is here. As much as you'd love to see him, you don't know what you'll say. It's inevitable for him to have many questions, but the answer lies in the letter you hold tightly in your clammy hands, your grip slightly creasing the edges of the envelope.

This damned letter... it had taken weeks to create. Weeks of procrastination and nights with paper on your lap and a pen in your hand attempting to find the right words. There was many a time you planned on ditching it and moving on with your life, but giving him an explanation as to why you suddenly disappeared is the very least you can do.

You inhale deeply, eyes flitting over every inch of dusty surface to find a spot to place this envelope where he'll see it. You had thought about posting it - it would be easier and he'd definitely find it. But you didn't want it to get lost in transit and you're not sure if you could've scraped together enough to buy a stamp; you would've had to have skipped a meal for the sixth time that week. Delivering it yourself is also an excuse for you to say goodbye one final time.

There's a creak as the door opens; you automatically fall into a fighting stance, turning to face the intruder. 

But it's not an intruder at all.

He's frozen in the doorway, his once vibrant green eyes now muted in colour as his gaze flits over you.

"Y/n?" He asks quietly.

"Loki..." You breathe. His face is sunken, his cheekbones more defined and the twinkle in his eyes has been snuffed out. Deep, grey eyebags sit uncomfortably under his eyes and his once luscious, ebony hair hangs limp and greasy around his face.

And yet, as much as his dishevelled appearance disturbs you, he's also just as beautiful as when you first met him.

He takes a step forwards; cautiously, as if you may just disappear in a puff of smoke.

"Where have you been?" His voice is strained, tears welling in his eyes.

You take a short breath, unsure if you're still able to breathe. You don't know what to say; don't know how to answer. He's hurt. So hurt. And it's all because of you. He's left call after call and voicemails galore, all of which you've ignored. He can't be involved in this. You can't let him get injured - or worse - because of you. Though, you realise now, that perhaps it would've been less painful for him to have followed you to the grave.

You shake the thought away. This is better for him. He'll get over it, move on and find someone who actually deserves him.

You can't find the words to respond, your mouth opening and closing stupidly as streaks of despair slowly etch into your face.

"Please answer me," He cries. "I've been looking for you everywhere, I've called hundreds of times, I've done everything I can think of! You just disappeared as if you were never here. I didn't even know if you were alive, Y/n,"

A single tear slips silently down your face, resting on the pillow of your cheek. Words still evade you, thoughts coming and going in a jumbled up mess.

"It's been months! Months since you disappeared without a trace, leaving me here all alone! Do you not understand how hard that's been for me?" His anger has started to bleed into his words and actions now; you don't blame him. You too would be angry and upset if he'd left without a goodbye, let alone an explanation.

You still stay silent, which just seems to rile him up further.

"Why aren't you speaking!? Is this all some way of torturing me? Did I do something to mess this all up?"

He lets out a choked sob, each word sending you further and further into a black hole of despondency.

"You know what? I really needed you," A single note of bitter laughter escapes his cracked, dry lips. "I needed you, and you weren't there!"

You swallow a lump in your throat, the room falling silent save for Loki's deep breathing. There's a pang of pain in your heart as you decide what you're going to do. Reaching over to a nearby bookshelf, you drop the letter on the nearest shelf and look back to the God, tears freefalling down both faces.

"I'm so sorry, Loki," Your voice won't come out louder than a whisper. 

He opens his mouth to speak, but you turn on your heel and jump through the window and onto the streets before you have a chance to hear his voice anymore. You can hear him calling after you, but don't dare to look back as you run down the street, dipping into a narrow, abandoned alley.

Your hand covers your mouth as you slide down the dirty wall of the building, stifling your sobs as everything begins to unravel. You don't know what to do. Your head keeps telling you to move; to leave Loki to live his life. He'll get better. He'll find happiness.

But your heart wants you to run back to him and make it all better again.

You pull out your phone and dial your voicemail, giving in to the temptation of the many messages Loki had left you.

"Hi love, it's Loki. Where are you? I just arrived home-"

You listen to each and every one, allowing the tears to fall harder and faster as you hear him become more frantic; more desperate. Until finally, the last one plays.

"Please Y/n. Please answer my calls. I-" There's a deep, shuddering breath on the other end of the line. "I love you so, so much. I can't lose you. Please, just... just come home,"

A long beep signals the end of the voicemail, leaving you feeling more alone than ever.

Part 2

Tag list: @mischief2sarawr

[majeoeje]

Where the lights shine

Childe x reader (part 2)

Not even the snowstorm could keep me from you

Part 1

"Childe? Really? That's a name that you went for?" Your eyebrow raised involuntarily holding in a laugh that threaten to escape your lips

"Hey! You told me you won't laugh" he crossed his arms barely containing the pout that ghost his face

You decided to invite your dear friend to your humble living space whilst you wait for the lantern rite to start

Though the comforts of your house has never felt as cozy as now. Your living room seemed to be rendered in a hazy gold rays of sunset and the plants that decorate it glow to be more vibrant

The orange hues of sunlight passed through your window highlighting the furniture of your apartment

Has this place always been this beautiful?

Ajax or "childe" sat beside you, still dressed in the same fatui uniform that he wore when you met him a few days ago, very much different from how he used to dress back then. You also doesn't miss how his demeanor grew to be more calmer...and perhaps colder

Though those unmistakeably deep blue eyes never seemed to lost it's depth, his orange hair still glow in the ray of sun

You continue to observe him, noticing every small detail that you missed from him

"You're staring again" he said, despite that, he never broke eye contact

You let out a little laugh

"Do you have more have more freckles?" You asked, taking a closer look

"I do?" He perked up curiously, how you missed this expression of his

"Yeah, right here" you pointed with your thumb on the spot below his eye "and here.." you brushed a few strands on the side of his face before ultimately resting on it once again

"Oh yeah? Where else?" He asks

You tilted his face side to side, examining it thoroughly

"Here" you say, finding one on the side of his other eye while not shying away to rest your hands on the side of his face

He smiled, a smile so cheeky you couldn't help to return it

"Pfft. How could you even notice that? You're making it up come on." he sighs weakly, you didn't fail to notice the blush that spreads accross his complexion. Maybe he wished you did made it up. The thought of you making excuses just to touch him has him weak

"How could i? I know for a FACT that these are new" You cupped his hand, your touch still not faltering from it's place

Ajax didn't know what was it with you and how much you like touching his face. The truth is he likes it even more than you do

"Maybe you just like my face so much you remember it so vividly"

Not wrong

"No, it haunts me in my nightmares"

The sun went down and darkness ensues on your apartment

"Mhm, whatever you say" he rolled his eyes playfully cheeky little bastard

You hadn't realize how close your face was to ajax's. You hoped that he didn't see how you stared longingly on his lips

You coughed profusely, inching your face away. The intimate moment made your breath hitch

"You good?" Ajax patted your back

"I'm awesome!" You stood up from the sofa making ajax confused on your sudden movement

"I almost forgot.. i think they're already setting up the laterns, shall we go?" You hesitated before you reached out your hand to help him stand

He took your hand in his and stood up, the both of you simultaniously agreeing to watch the lantern rite from the roof

Just like the old days, it does feel nostalgic how you held his hand giding him to the roof, how you two sat chattering about things that passed, how he never let go of your hand

But the butterfly that flutter in your chest was anything but nostalgic. It was explosive. Like fireworks that shoot up and went off into the sky as you two chat your night away

"Is that why you became a florist?" Ajax asked, looking into the distance, as you talked about your aspiration

"Yeah, when you gave me that frozen flower...it just kinda stuck you know?" you laughed awkwardly "when it melt and wilt, i hoped to grow more of it"

In the harsh snows of snezhnaya, hardly any plants can grow, so when ajax came and give you a flower frozen within ice, you were awestruck. Something so beautiful. So fragile. You were infatuated with it

Ajax was more than happy that he could inspire you, even when his heart swelled in ache letting you go away to start your journey

"Im proud of you" he suddenly says, as he finally looked into your eyes, a look that was filled with genuine feelings and acceptance

"You have a business now, it seems to take off with the funeral parlors and even to other nations" he rambled, feeling like he hadn't praised you enough

"I'm super proud of you too, you're a harbinger!" You pat his back "you've come so far. I'm sure your family is also proud of you"

Gentle yellow light from the lantern, paired with colorful flash of light from the fireworks illuminated ajax in a way that you've never seen before. It took your breath away

"Glad it all worked out yeah?"

"Yeah... still. I hope you'd visit me more now" you didn't pry your gaze off him

Has he always been this beautiful?

"Now that you've said that i'll be up your hair 24/7" he says, smiling again, feels like he couldn't stop smiling when he's with you

"Pfft. Okay"

"I hope you enjoy nagging at 4 in the morning"

"Alright"

"I might even stay here for months to come"

"Doesn't sound too bad"

"And what if i don't want to leave?"

"You know i won't mind. Ever."

Your faces were dangerously so close to one another as you bask in the beautiful light that illuminates from the lanterns.

"I want to kiss you"

He whispered shamefully a confession that he had held back for years. He doesn't wish to hold it for more years to come, this time he was the one holding your face, you find it tremendously cute. Though you'd never admit it

You didn't respond, what would you possibly say in that situation anyway? Other than giving him a long awaited kiss that shouldn't had been delayed for how long it did

You held each other. A warm embrace that didn't felt nostalgic, a new booming unfamilliar feeling, yet you yearn for it

[twstbookclub]

My Dearest, Trickster

Summary: One day, Rook started treating you differently. Maybe you didn’t see it before, but now? You have to face the consequences of your curiosity. POV: 2nd Person Pronouns: Gender Neutral Admin/Writer: Cressa 🦋 Tags: Romance, Oblivious MC, Rook Hunt is a Warning Himself, Poetry (because it's Rook), Minor ADeuce and Grim Shenanigans

Word count: 2,354

You're not sure when Rook began to treat you differently. It just happened one day, or at least you noticed that day.

"Oh, Rook!" You yelped at the sight of Rook hanging upside down from a tree branch. You saw the corners of his eyes crinkle at your surprise, though the smile never left his face.

"Please stop doing that. I swear, I'll get a heart attack if you keep this up."

"Ah, but mon cher, every expression you make always leaves me in awe of your beauty," he sighed dreamily, placing his hat over his heart. "Tout simplement merveilleux! I'm afraid I cannot stop myself even if I tried."

You felt the heat on your cheeks before you could process what he said. "Get down from there, or else I'll smack you."

"Your inability to accept compliments wounds me so." Rook shakes his head, nonetheless, complies to your request. "Yet, it is what makes you all the more charming."

Oh my god, I don't know if I can take any more of this.

You're no stranger to Rook's eccentricities, particularly his compliments. You knew he always told the truth. He's scarily observant. You knew this, because he pinpointed Leona's location every time you needed to find him for either Professor Trein or Crewel. Though this creeped you out, you decided to brush it off since Rook was harmless.

So far, at least. After all those overblots, you can't be too careful.

You exchanged a few more pleasantries with Rook before he bid you adieu. He strode towards the Mirror Chamber, while you made your way back to Ramshackle Dorm. Grim stayed with Ace and Deuce in the Mystery Shop to buy some tuna cans. You just hope he doesn't blow off your allowance just to satisfy his cravings. Your mind was so preoccupied with your meager budget, that it took you a while to remember what was missing from your conversation with Rook.

He didn't call you Trickster. He called you mon cher. Since when did it stop being my dearest Trickster?

Ever since that day, you kept a close eye on Rook. You still don't know what to think about all of the things you've noticed in the past few weeks.

"Mon cher, you're as beautiful as ever!" Rook called you when he spotted you in the cafeteria one day. The corners of his eyes always crinkled a bit more when he smiled at you. He approached you and jumped into conversation as if it was routine. Epel and Vil followed suit, but you couldn't acknowledge them with Rook taking all of your attention.

You missed the way Ace and Deuce exchanged glances. Ace rolled his eyes at Grim who paid no mind and devoured his grilled cheese sandwich. Epel stared at both of you with a horrified look while Vil shook his head with a faint, helpless sigh.

Rook's gestures seemed more animated when he talked to you. You caught him flailing his arms around more, and his fingers always seemed to ghost the sleeves of your uniform. He'd add in some more compliments, before he told stories of his time in the science club with Trey and the others.

"I implore you to witness the beauty of chemical reactions during club hours. Why, I could say the sparks and colorful smoke that fill the air can't compare to the vibrant glimmer of your eyes!"

He always found a reason to recite poems to you and kiss your knuckles, then he retreated like a sly fox awaiting his next prey. It didn't bother you before, but now that you've started to observe Rook more closely, it seems he always did that around you.

Specifically, he only did it to you.

"In the midst of winter's unforgiving isolation,

Longing for the warmth of the sun, your presence is my sole consolation.

Oh, to hold you in my arms is the sweetest bliss!

Very few men cannot wish for a greater reward than this.

Enamored in your embrace, melting into your touch is the greatest grace—akin to frost in the beginning of spring, yet it will sting.

You are my salvation in this frigid winter, for I am the unfortunate and irredeemable hunter.

One cannot compare to you, and none shall ever be.

Unattainable as you may be, I continue to long for your affection and beauty."

You honestly have no idea what Rook just said. His poem was so long that you didn't hear the rest of it while trying to wrestle Grim back beside you.

"Grim, stay put! You still have classes with me—Sorry, that's such a great poem, Rook! You're so good at poetry—GRIM, I SWEAR TO THE SEVEN, I'LL—!"

"Myah! I will, I will! So stop choking me with my bow!"

Rook simply thanked you with that same smile of his and the crinkles in the corners of his eyes.

Days after that, you sat at your usual table with your usual company: Ace, Deuce, and Grim. You've seen and noticed every little thing Rook did around you, but you just couldn't understand it all. You thought it was just, well, Rook being Rook.

Rook, the eccentric. Rook, who stalks NRC students in his free time. Rook, who somehow has an eye for exact measurements, habits, and tics. Rook, who shamelessly compliments everything and everyone in his pursuit of beauty, even in the middle of a dire situation. Rook, who is blunt and tactless to the extent of being offensive. Rook, who sought your company whenever he could. You thought he was just being nice in his own way. Now, you're not so sure anymore.

So, despite all of your doubts on Rook and the brain cells your friends share, you finally told them about what's been going on for the past few weeks.

Ace raised an eyebrow, "I know you're smarter than this, Prefect, but wow. I'm surprised you didn't see it."

"See what?" You asked, frustrated and a bit hysterical. You literally poured out your heart and soul to your lovably dumb friends just this once, and you get sass in return?

"Rook likes you," Deuce stated matter-of-factly. "It's pretty obvious. He's been flirting with you for a long time now. You didn't know?"

"If I did, I wouldn't have been asking," you groaned. “Romantically?”

“Romantically,” Ace and Deuce synchronized, which made them look at each other in disgust. The two Heartslabyul students began to bicker while Grim, still enjoying his lunch, egged them on for entertainment.

On the other hand, you’re not doing so hot. You buried your face in your hands, cold from the revelation. The cold was a stark contrast to the heat spreading from your cheeks to your ears. Rook liked you? He likes you?

No one liked you romantically before. You have no idea how anyone would act around the people they like. Then again, you focused so much on your interests that you developed tunnel vision. There’s also the fact that you were dropped into a different universe with no identification, money, or anything else other than the clothes on your back and the NRC ceremonial robe. Also, you had to deal with boys whose internalized trauma caused them to overblot. Dealing with all of that almost cost you your life. Of course, you wouldn’t even think of Rook looking at you with rose-tinted glasses when you had other things to worry about.

This conversation made you scramble for any memories of someone showing interest in you, and you blatantly ignored them because you were just that clueless. You don’t even know what to do with Rook’s feelings when you, yourself, don’t know how you feel about him.

Do you like him, or is it because you found out that he likes you that you’re wondering if you like him back? Have you always had feelings for him, or are you just considering him as a romantic partner now? How come you didn’t see it until someone had to spell it out for you?

"Hey! Paws off the tail, Ace!"

The moment Ace grabbed Grim’s tail with a sneer, you forgot about your confusing feelings for Rook to defuse the homicide that was about to happen in front of you.

The next day, you should’ve known better than to walk on the same path towards the main building. You didn’t want to face Rook’s feelings for you, yet. You didn’t want to know how you felt for the huntsman. You weren’t ready for any of this. You’re still trying to figure out how to deal with the possible overblot coming your way, and romance isn’t something you should think about.

So, why are you walking right into Rook’s trap?

“You’re as radiant as ever, mon cher.” You couldn’t tear your eyes away from Rook’s green irises. His smile, no different from the one he always gave you, didn’t reach his ears. You could see the freckles scattered across his nose and cheeks, which meant that he rushed here without putting his usual makeup on. His hand rested over his heart, but his hat never left its perch on his head. There was a certain quiet in his demeanor that bothered you. You don’t think you ever saw Rook like this before.

Knowing him, you guessed that Rook witnessed the moment Ace and Deuce told you about his feelings. The third year Pomefiore student always stalked the people he found interesting. You’re one of them, considering that he likes you to an extent. The world won’t even let you breathe and sit on your thoughts for just one day. What star were you born under to be this unlucky?

You gnawed on your bottom lip as you fidgeted in place. Rook’s eyes darted to the gesture, but with how narrowed his eyes were from his smile, you couldn’t tell if it actually happened. You might be hallucinating from the stress of it all. Who knows? Not even eight in the morning, and you’re already a mess.

“Good morning, Rook.” Your pathetic attempt at a greeting was met with another silent smile from the blond. The wind seemed colder to the touch, and the rustle of the trees echoed in your ears. The dirt under your feet looked more interesting right now, due to how awkward the situation was. Rook stayed still as if he wasn’t trying to scare any prey away, which meant you. He knew. You knew. So… what’s going to happen now?

“I won't deny that I harbor romantic feelings for you, Prefect.”

Your head shot up so fast, that anyone would think that you might have whiplash. Rook stood taller with a hand tipping his wide-brimmed hat to hide his eyes. If you’re not mistaken, his smile softened a little. You couldn’t even process anything more because the eccentric hunter continued talking to you.

“I have always been intrigued by the magicless individual who caught the attention of the entire student body. I watched you as closely as I could. I studied every habit and tic you possess. I know your routine by heart, which is no different from everyone else I've observed thus far. I didn't intend to fall in love with you as the days came to pass, but alas, I did.”

Rook paused, tilting his head to look at you. Under the brim of his hat, his lovelorn gaze pierced your heart. He knew. One look at you, and Rook knew you were conflicted. He could tell how you feel, but it’s so frustrating when you don’t know it yourself. Somehow, Rook’s dejection felt like a knife digging further into your heart.

“Your determination—the passionate fire in your eyes under dire circumstances—enchanted me. Your recklessness left me breathless, and my heart yearned for you more and more. You are as brave as you are beautiful, like a rose blooming in spring.

As I spent many days and nights admiring you from afar, I realized that you would never be able to return my affections. Mon cher, I cannot burden you further with this unrequited love of mine. I'm aware of your recent endeavors, and I offer you my assistance should you wish for it. If I can't stay beside you as a lover, then I desire to remain with you as a friend.”

A heavy weight settled in your stomach. The confession silenced your thoughts and seized your heart in a grip that threatened to puncture the poor thing. It was intense, passionate, and shamelessly honest. Yet, quiet and abrupt. Rook didn't want to scare you.

Mouth dry and throat sore, you didn’t know what possessed you to clutch Rook’s arm. You barely registered the shock on his face when you finally found the words to respond to his admission.

"You can't just tell me all of that, and expect me to keep quiet," your voice cracked at the end. The ache in your throat and the sting behind your eyes intensified as you continued, "When? When did you stop seeing me as the Trickster? When did you start calling me your dear? Rook, please."

Rook stared at you for what seemed like an eternity. He placed a hand over yours and said, "I don't know myself. What I can tell you is that my heart has never stopped beating for you since."

Your knees wobbled, and you felt like collapsing right where you stood. It's too much. Everything was too much. Rook was too much. Somehow, you wanted more of him, even if it left you gasping and begging for air.

"Maybe…" You sharply inhaled, trying not to choke on the weight of your feelings. "Maybe I could learn to love you."

The hands that brought you to Rook's chest, the warmth of his body against yours, and the tender touch of his forehead on your own were foreign, but you have never felt this safe since your arrival to Twisted Wonderland.

As his laugh and tears mingled with your warbled giggle, you decided that you can find sanctuary with Rook. Maybe, just maybe, you could love him after all.