#bright skies ahead

[heysarsii]

sometimes I go down deep :)

beneath the surface

There's a lot going on in my life lately that although I said I wanted to take a break from diving I'd rather spend my day diving deep. I just want to calm my thoughts down and release any anxieties that I've been holding on to.

I know that it's no one's responsibility to do the healing for myself but I've got a lot of work to do and I am truly working on it myself. I just hope the universe can be a bit gentler towards me.x

[outwalkingthelocales]

I've been meaning to draw Poppy more, she's one of the first neighbors I ever drew!❤️ Very lovely, a piece dedicated to her, yes it is here!!!! Happy early Valentine's everyone, tell someone how much you love em!

[lanternlightss]

Do you ever think about how Bard is constantly depicted with Open eyes and Barbatos is constantly depicted with Closed Eyes

NO YEAH. YEAH

something to be said abt it all …. like ,, the way bard was pushing towards an impossible, constantly reaching out for better days, a whirling inferno. and venti, with how the winds reach nearly almost every corner and crevice of teyvat, can recall every song of past, present, future, “let’s wait, wait, for a windier day..”

something about eyes being the window to the soul.

[tilbageidanmark]

Kalvebod Fælled

[drowning-in-paragraphs]

PLAYING DANGEROUS

jude bellingham x gf!reader

warnings: tension, tension, tension... Maybe (a bit) toxic.

summary: After weeks of fighting over a campaign Jude worked on that sparked jealousy in you, your frustration grows as he dismisses your feelings. Fed up with being ignored, you decide to give him a taste of his own medicine. As expected, your boyfriend sees red—his control slipping as the night unfolds, and the tension between you two reaches its boiling point. But, of course, you are having so much fun.

Part 2: The end of the game (!)

The car ride was thick with an uncomfortable silence. Jude gripped the wheel, his jaw set, eyes fixed ahead. You could feel his frustration radiating off him, each sigh and subtle shift a quiet reminder of the tension simmering between you two. After all the back-and-forth arguments you’d had this week, you were both tired of hashing it out—but the hurt and resentment lingered.

You looked out the window, trying to lose yourself in the nightscape rushing by. The bright lights of the city blurred, but your mind was fixed on one image: that campaign photo. The one that had sparked this entire mess. Jude and a stunning model in a luxury campaign, his arm casually slung over her waist, their smiles too bright, too intimate. When you’d seen the ad, it had stung, but what has stung more was the behind the cameras videos. They had chemistry, and she was just as extroverted as him.

It hadn’t helped that when you’d brought it up to Jude, he brushed it off, rolling his eyes and calling you “dramatic” for making a big deal out of nothing. He’d practically laughed it off, leaving you feeling unheard and dismissed. That was the worst part: not just the jealousy, but the way he’d treated it as if it was meaningless.

“Can you not just sit there like I don’t exist?” Jude’s voice broke the silence, low but tight with irritation. “We’re going to this dinner. Can we just act like adults?”

You turned to him, biting your tongue to stop yourself from saying the first sharp thing that came to mind. You’d been here before, and you were too tired of the fighting to start again.

“Jude, you know why we are in this situation,” you said quietly. “I just wanted you to take me seriously and acknowledge my feelings.”

“Acknowledge?” he said, a hint of disbelief in his voice. “All I’ve done this whole week is listen to you accuse me of something I didn’t do. It’s a campaign. That’s it. Nothing more.” He resisted the urge to say, "End of discussion," and focused on the road ahead instead.

“But you didn’t make me feel like it was nothing, Jude. You made me feel like… like I’m stupid for even bringing it up. You think I don’t know that it’s part of your job?” Your voice quivered, and you hated that you sounded so emotional.

Jude’s face softened for a moment, but then he hardened his expression again, as if not wanting to give in. “I don’t know what you want me to say. I thought you knew me better than that, honestly.”

There it was—another subtle jab. The conversation felt like a seesaw, tipping between blame and defense, never quite reaching a point of understanding. You crossed your arms, pressing yourself against the passenger door, feeling miles away from him, though he was just a few feet to your left.

“I just wanted to feel like you cared that I was upset. That’s all. Not for you to laugh it off like it was something stupid.”

He clenched his jaw, as if forcing himself not to retort. His hands tightened on the wheel again. “Look, I get it now. You don’t trust me, and that’s fine. I’ll do my job, you can stay mad at me, and we’ll just keep doing this every week.” His voice dripped with sarcasm, and it hurt. “This is getting ridiculous...”

You two were tired of fighting, but something in you, something sharp and bruised, couldn’t let go of the last few days’ arguments. It wasn’t enough for him to be hurt. You wanted him to understand.

“Fine,” you said, trying to keep your voice steady but feeling anger prickle under your skin. “If it’s so ridiculous, then maybe I’ll make sure you get a taste of what that feels like. You’ll feel as ‘ridiculous’ as you’ve made me feel this week. We’ll see if it’s still a joke then.”

Jude’s head whipped toward you, a mix of shock and anger flashing across his face. “What? Are you serious right now?” His voice was tense, a low warning.

You felt a pang of guilt, but you held his gaze. “I just don’t think you’d understand it any other way.”

He scoffed, running a hand through his hair in frustration. “Unbelievable,” he muttered, shaking his head. He stared back at the road, his knuckles white on the steering wheel. The quiet between you was no longer uncomfortable but electric, charged with a bitterness that hadn’t been there before.

The car finally pulled up to the restaurant where you were supposed to meet your friends. The weight of what you’d just said hanging heavily between you. Jude cut the engine and just sat there, staring straight ahead, as if he didn’t trust himself to speak. You didn´t move either, not knowing what was he going to do. After a beat, he climbed out, moving around to your door without a word. When he opened it, he didn’t look at you, just held the door and waited for you to step out.

You could see the tension in his posture, his usual warmth and confidence replaced by a coldness that made your heart ache. But you were both too proud, too angry, to say anything.

As you neared the entrance, Jude’s hand shot out, gripping your waist with a firm possessiveness. The touch wasn’t gentle or affectionate as usual; it was more of a declaration. Despite the anger simmering between you, he wasn’t about to let you carry out your threat to make him jealous. You tensed at his touch, your own anger rising as you felt him draw you in as if he could control you with a single motion.

Without thinking, you shrugged him off, shoving him away just enough to make your point. Jude halted, cursing under his breath, as he fought to keep his temper in check. The sharp click of the car lock sounded behind you as he pocketed the key, jaw clenched, but his eyes held yours for a moment. You both understood each other’s challenge, an unspoken line drawn that neither of you wanted to cross but couldn’t seem to avoid.

With your heads held high and expressions perfectly composed, you stepped into the restaurant, slipping on your masks of calm as you approached your friends. Your forced smiles and quiet greetings betrayed none of the tension between you, and you fell into the comfortable rhythm of small talk.

Back at the table, the spark of defiance inside you had turned into a full flame. Watching Jude as he laughed and charmed his way through conversations, acting as if your argument had never occurred, only fueled that fire. He didn´t get to act as if nothing happened. His face was relaxed, his posture easy—but you knew him well enough to sense the barely hidden tension in his movements, the occasional dart of his eyes toward you, checking, warning.

Fine, you thought. If he wanted to pretend everything was fine, you'd go along with it. In fact, you’d be the most composed person at the table. But where was the fun in that?

You turned your attention to the friend sitting beside you, leaning closer with an easy smile as you laughed at his stories. Your hand brushed against his as you reached for your drink, letting it linger just a second longer than usual. The warmth of his arm pressed lightly against yours as you angled your body toward him, giving him your full attention. Jude was watching, and you knew he was watching. Out of the corner of your eye, you could see his mouth tighten, his easygoing demeanor slipping just a bit. His brows furrowed, and whatever his friend beside him was saying no longer seemed that interesting.

Good.

As the evening wore on, you let your laughter come a little too easily, smiling at your friend’s jokes, resting your hand briefly on his shoulder as you leaned in, your face just inches from his. Jude’s gaze was practically drilling into you, a dark intensity that made the hairs on the back of your neck stand up, thrilling and defiant all at once.

You were loving it.

His hand came to rest on the table, fingers drumming an agitated beat, his knuckles white. At one point, he leaned forward to reach for his drink, and the subtle brush of his shoulder against yours sent a shiver down your spine. You caught his eyes, holding his gaze in challenge.

“You okay, baby?” you asked with a smile—the prettiest smile you could offer, eyes shining with a hint of mischief.

In response, his hand drifted under the table, finding your thigh and gripping it firmly. The heat of his palm burned through the silky fabric of your black dress, his fingers possessive, unapologetic. You swallowed, trying to focus on the conversation in front of you, but the pressure of his hand sent your pulse racing, a blend of anger and something far more dangerous surging through you.

Ignoring his grip, you shifted slightly and crossed your leg, pulling away just enough to let his hand slip, but not before his fingers tightened in a quick, heated squeeze. He didn’t let go; instead, he moved his hand further up, his fingers now grazing your upper thigh, daring you to push him away. You bit your lip, refusing to give him the satisfaction of reacting. Instead, you leaned even closer to your friend, laughing softly as you let your hair fall forward, just brushing Jude’s arm in the process.

You could feel the heat of Jude’s glare on your skin, the simmering anger in every tense line of his body. You risked a quick glance his way, only to find him staring back at you with a look so intense, so darkly possessive, it was almost predatory. You'd seen this look before, but only when you had pushed him too far, ignited something in him he couldn’t control. It was a fire you both knew too well, one you had stirred with every challenge, every teasing word. And now, that fire was about to consume everything.

“Come on, keep pushing me, love.” He muttered sarcastically, each word perfectly pronounced, making sure you heard him loud and clear.

He lifted his glass, fingers curling possessively around the stem, and took a slow, deliberate sip, never once breaking his intense eye contact. As he set it down, his gaze trailed down to your lips, full and inviting, a subtle smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. Then, his eyes moved lower, lingering on the soft curve of your breasts, which you had purposefully exposed just enough to rile him up when he wasn’t looking. His stare lingered there, hungry, possessive, making your stomach tighten with a mix of anticipation and anger.

No. No. He didn't get to be in control. This time, you were the one leading. Why did he manage to make you so nervous with just a few touches and his confident smirk? It wasn't fair.

His hand drifted higher on your thigh, and you fought to keep your breath steady. The weight of his touch sent a rush of heat through you, but you refused to look his way, keeping your attention on the friend beside you. Due to all the bickering and pointless arguments, it had been far too long since you’d been close to each other. Now, his touch sent a butterflies to your stomach, its effect magnified—three times more intense than before. Jude’s fingers tensed, his grip growing firmer, sending a clear message, a silent warning. But you leaned in again, touching your friend as you laughed, your fingers trailing along his, knowing exactly how it looked.

Jude’s jaw clenched, his leg brushing firmly against yours under the table, his knee pressing against you with an undeniable possessiveness. His hand squeezed your thigh, almost painfully, and you knew he was at his limit.

So, you laughed again, but this time harder at your friend’s joke.

“Something funny?” Jude muttered in a low voice, his words quiet enough that only you could hear, laced with irritation and a hint of warning.

You turned to him, your expression innocent, even sweet. “He’s just hilarious,” you said with a slight, shy and cute smile, raising your glass and meeting his eyes in a silent challenge.

His gaze darkened further, his fingers moving in a slow, heated drag along the inside of your thigh, and for a brief second, you fought to keep your composure, refusing to let him see how much he was getting to you. His touch was a slow burn, each inch of contact sending a shiver through you that you tried to ignore.

Jude’s hand dropped back to the table, and for a moment, you thought he might finally let it go. But when you laughed again and casually complimented your friend with a teasing remark—something along the lines of, “You always look so good, I do not understand why are you still single,”— Jude’s expression darkened, his breath hitching slightly. He choked on his drink, fingers gripping the glass so tightly you half-expected it to shatter. You could practically feel the heat radiating from him, his control slipping just a little more with every word.

You pressed your lips together, trying to stifle a laugh. He set his glass down hard, his voice a rough whisper. “May I remind you that you are not the one who’s single?” he asked, his eyes flashing with a dangerous glint.

You raised a brow, unfazed, and turned back to your friend. “Am I pushing it?” you murmured, more to yourself than to him, a sly smile playing on your lips. But just as you were about to rest your hand on your friend’s arm for the fifteenth time that night, you felt Jude’s hand slip over yours—this time grasping your wrist, his fingers rough and insistent, stopping you before you could touch another man.

“Do not, Y/N,” he murmured, his voice like steel, laced with something electric that sent a thrill up your spine.

Without a word, you twisted your hand free and crossed your legs again, your knee brushing his leg as you did. His fingers found your wrist again, pulling you closer this time, his lips near your ear as he muttered, “You think this is a game?”

The heat of his breath against your skin made your heart race, and you felt your pulse quicken as he held your gaze, daring you to keep this up. His fingers lingered on your wrist, and for a second, you wondered if he might actually kiss you right there, just to make his point, in front of everyone, as if he didn’t care who was watching.

God you wanted that. Like, a lot.

At last, as the evening wound down and you both stood to say goodbye, Jude didn’t let you slip away. His hand slid possessively around your waist, holding you close as you say goodbye to the group, his grip firm, almost punishing. Once outside, he pulled you aside, finally away from the prying eyes of your friends.

Without a word, Jude pushed you gently against the side of the car, his eyes blazing with frustration, anger, and something else you couldn’t quite name. He stepped in close, his hands framing your waist, pressing you against the cool metal. His breath brushed against your neck, his voice a low, dangerous murmur.

“You think this was funny?” he asked, his fingers pressing into your hips, his gaze intense, unyielding.

You lifted your chin, holding his stare. “No,” you whispered, a smirk tugging at the corner of your lips. “I thought it was fair.”

Jude’s eyes darkened, and his grip tightened, his hands possessive, nearly desperate, as he pulled you even closer. The air between you was charged, tense, and thick with unspoken words. You could feel the rapid beat of his heart against you, the warmth of his hands sending shivers through you.

“You’re being…,” you started, trying to keep a teasing smile in check, though your amusement slipped through. His anger was palpable; he glared at you with narrowed eyes, locking onto you with an intensity that was thrilling, even a little dangerous.

“Mmm, what was it?” you asked, pretending to struggle to remember the exact word that had lit the fuse in this absurd, yet undeniably thrilling standoff. You paused for effect, watching the way his jaw tightened. “Oh, right—dramatic.”

You knew that would push him right over the edge, and sure enough, he leaned in, his expression hardening as his gaze burned right into yours. You could almost feel the warmth of his breath, the faint scent of his cologne enveloping you, as if he were drawing you into his orbit. He hadn’t even said a word yet, but somehow, he had you on edge, just as he always did, effortlessly.

“But you know,” you added with a smirk, leaning up on tiptoe to press a playful kiss on his heated cheek, “I think it suits you.”

Then, with all the nonchalance you could muster, you turned on your heel, heading for the passenger seat as though nothing had happened. For a moment, he didn’t move; you could practically feel his stare following you. But then, before you could even open the door, he grabbed your arm, pulling you back to him, right back into that same charged position, his grip firm but unmistakably possessive. And despite yourself, you couldn’t help but let a thrill run down your spine.

“You have no idea what you just started,” he murmured, his voice thick with a dangerous promise, his lips hovering just inches from yours.

And as you looked up at him, feeling the heat, the thrill, and the tension swirl between you, you realized you didn’t regret a single thing.

Jude’s smirk deepened as he held you there, his grip possessive and firm, his gaze dark with intent. You could feel every inch of space crackling with tension, every breath laced with challenge and defiance. He wasn't letting you go, not after what you'd just put him through. And part of you didn't want him to.

“You think this is a joke,” he muttered smirking, his voice low and edged with a dangerous sort of amusement. His fingers traced along your arm, each touch purposeful, as if to prove just how much control he still held. You raised your chin, meeting his gaze with equal defiance, a small smile on your lips.

“I think it is a taste of your own medicine,” you replied, your voice soft but unyielding. He leaned in, his lips so close they brushed against yours as he spoke, sending a shiver straight through you. He couldn’t resist the urge to kiss you.

“You’re going to regret this,” he murmured, his words a promise as his thumb skimmed along your jaw, tipping your face up to meet his.

[punk-in-docs]

A song of broken skin and fated lovers: part V

— Emperor Geta x Reader (Salacia)

— 7.1k words.

— Read all parts here: Part I — Part II — Part III — Part IV — Part V —

Summary: You were raised outside of this Rome. Born into peace. To know of fathomless deep seas, and skies so big, they wrapped around your whole sight. The way that at night all you can smell are lemon trees kissed by salt. The jasmine plants wound around the white walls of the villa. Salacia. And now you are sent to Rome for your father in the Senate. There you will catch the attention of Geta; in all the wrong and darkest of ways— any reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated 💙💙💙

TW!! There’s some description of wounds and if you squint some dub con. Proceed daintily loves-

It seemed your dreams were the only place you could reliably escape too. The only plain you’d find any peace.

You picture the hill before your home. Every night away from home you dreamt you’d be walking up it. Feeling the dappled shade of olive trees curling above on your skin. Passing along your back in freckles. Dotted light, spots of shade interspersed.

Your soft skirt swishing around bare calves. The creak of your sandals meeting the dusty road. The one that kinks and bends and shows you that endless glimpse of searing ocean waiting just beyond. Aegean water. Sage fields. Boundless heavens.

You remember these fields. You played in them as a child. The ones that thrash with soft grasses. Ruffled by salty sea air. You can hear your sisters laughter brushing along to you like sweet blossom petals garnished on the wind. Sweet and calming. Crushed honeycomb and milk.

A sound as familiar and as comforting to you as their calls and voices that make the shape of your name.

Every night in your dreams you walk up this hill.

Every night you come home.

You can see them - your sisters - on the winding ribbon of the road ahead. Running out the front door of the house. Tullia with her dress flying behind her. Ever decorous eldest. Calling to Diana, with her hair falling in waves and telling her younger sister that ladies don’t run. Diana isn’t listening she’s too joyous. Too forthright to pay attention.

And Ceres. Sweet little Ceres sprints for your arms. Gap toothed grin. Clutching her cloth doll. Skirts held past her knees, she runs for you.

You can see mother in her dark plum linen stola. Gold jewellery on her neck and dangling from her ears. She lingers in the shade of the the hallway. Her dark wavy hair shot through with a fierce bolt of silver - lightning struck - at her temples. Radiant. As she watched from the door with a smile at their graceless display.

Her smile wide and brilliant, you always thought so, exactly as you remember it, as crows feet sit by her eyes. Emboldened and etched deep with her mirth. Hers is a face that has seen years of sun and sea spray. Made serene as placid waters by it. She is tanned and weathered elegantly by decades of watching sunshine bouncing like rows of diamonds off the sea. Salt and sea foam as hemmed in her blood as it is in yours.

You run to them - crying and wailing - feet slapping the dirt and dust, and you’re aching, legs burning, lungs aflame and you won’t stop. Calling their names til your throat is as dry as the dust below your feet.

Then the sun is too bright. It’s too far and you can’t see them. They can’t hear you. Swallowed from your grasp.

There’s just blinding light engulfing them just out of reach of your scraping fingertips. It’s like brushing grains of sand. It tumbles away before it grows into actuality. Your fingers brush empty air as your whole being lurches and mourns.

You jolt awake, body clammy and sheened in sweat. Eyes snapping open as you jerk upwards in the cover of fine smooth sheets. You feel your hair slip over your naked shoulders. Jewels and gold still around your neck. Sunshine blares harshly at your crusted eyes.

Aches and pains come swimming back to you in sharp degrees. Bruises on your neck and your hips. Fading to ugly yellow black already. Bite marks ring your collarbones and the meat of your shoulders.

Out the window you can hear a bustling city. The clamour of crowds. Hot sun baked dirt and filth. Bells peeling from temples. Servants scurrying in the courtyards below and beyond. Horses baying in the streets.

You smear sleep from your eyes, twisting over in the huge slab of a bed to see the sheets behind you are still filled.

Geta slumbers on golden pillows under the same sheets as you. On his back with bis face turned to the sun. Arm slung over his belly. The thin sheets stick to the climes and outlines of his body. His stomach. Thighs. Hips. The heavy bulge between his legs.

His expression seems almost gentle in his rest. Pillowy lips and dark lashes kissing onto his cheeks. Kohl still smeared on his eyes from yesterday. Naked same as you, save for golden decorations, jewelled rings…

A wedding ring. Matching bands. That’s the weight that comes crashing down on you so fiercely.

Acid bile claws it way up your throat when you shift your legs. Finding the edge of the bed with a breathy sigh. The stickiness between your legs and dried around your cunt doesn’t bear thinking about. You screw your eyes shut so as not to think about it.

Stirring silk. Rustles from behind you.

“Where do you think you’re going wife?” Comes a sleepy drawl across the pillows and sheets. Slithering across to you. Husky from his slumber.

You swallow and twist your head over your shoulder. Hair matted and twined close from sleep. Bite marks wedged deep in your back and neck throb as you move.

His eyes are lidded heavy but their burning gaze rests on you. Branding like a hot knife. White hot from the fire. You’re beginning to think that gaze of his always will.

“I’m not used to having my bed filled in the mornings. The kind of company I’m used to promptly leaves after the pleasuring is done.” He explains. Inflection of lust in his tone. He smirks with it. Wide and filthy.

Now he has a little plaything to trap into his bed whenever he feels like it. An ornament he can use and decorate his already gilded arm, and bring out to inspire envy in all peoples of Rome.

You pause where you sit on the bed. Caught.

“I wanted to fetch some water.” You grovel. Voice scraping raw. Throat feeling full of sharp rocks when you speak.

His eyes harden. Laychromose, but deepening with his anger. The way he slips into intimidation if he doesn’t immediately get what he wants. The way he snaps his fingers and has this world uncurl and offer itself up to his desires. That too must apply to you. Your role now was obedience in all things.

Bend and break and mould yourself for your husband, little nymph.

“You may… when your emperor is finished with you.” He plays and toys with your emotions at his whims. Eyes intently gazing at you. His words come with a bladed meaning.

“Come here-“ He orders. Voice softer but the command cuts straight to your spine. Arrowhead sharp. Studs deep.

You curl back into the bed. Back stiff. Trying not to wince at the cuts which burn and tear at your skin. You feel the pull and tug of barely closed wounds. His teeth had drawn blood. You feel the congealing wound at your back shift. The scab lifting. A bead of blood rolls over down your shoulder blade.

He notices. Shifts on his side behind you. Curls a hand to the hill of your hip. Catches that drip of blood with his lips. Savours it. Sea foam flavour of you bedded on his tongue.

The warm stinging path of his tongue on your back takes your mind back to what happened in these sheets hours previous.

How he’d pushed your thighs, widened your legs, opened the bowl of your pelvis and drunk from you. Showed you the various ways a man can please his lover with tongue, lips and hungry teeth.

He’d done it til you shivered and begged. Tried to writhe away. He meanly tugged you back where you belonged, bullied you, recaptured in the cradle of his hands, and did it again. Smirked when you asked for clemency.

“I warned you I was without mercy, Salacia.” He’d leered. His smirking lips and sharp teeth shining with you as he smeared his warm nose against your thigh. Slaked in the taste of you from chin to cheek. Makeup running under his Umbrian eyes. Panting like a beast to your skin and because of the scent he finds synonymous with you. Lemons and salt.

He hovers behind you now. Hands sliding for your waist. Chin on your shoulder. Breath tainted copper. Pressing his lips to bruises and tender spots. You were right. He had to achieve to sting of pain in order to feel something.

He dips his mouth to your neck again. Lapping and nursing a new bruise near an already painful one. Layering pain on pain.

His hand slips lower for your thigh. Warm stones in each of his fingers foreign and hard as he slips his hand between the soft of your legs again.

He’d moaned when you’d grabbed his hair or left nail marks in his large arms and shoulders. He liked that he could draw an emotion out of you. Even if it was overstimulation or desire. He’ll match and meet you in either. As he so wishes.

He’s pleased to find you tacky with the remnants of him from the previous evening. “A fine fruitful offering for your beautiful cunt my wife.” He purrs. Fingers delving deeper to your sex. Rings nearly an unwelcome sensation. “In time mayhaps the gods will bless us.”

Hallowed Saint. Hallowed fate. Bestowed by the gods, he says.

You’d say it was more akin to downfall. Curses and ill fate. Tantalus and his fruit. Medusa and her coiled snakes. Actaeons fateful stag.

He noses onto your jawbone. Fascinated by the scent of you still. Smothered all over these sheets. It grew stronger the longer he was near you. In his sleep it smothered his mind, his every second. Lemons, salt, and you-

He loses himself, mouthing to your neck and into the wild nest of your hair. He inhaled you. Drank the essence of you like a starving peasant. Hungry greedy hands.

“What is about that scent of yours that drives me wild? What is it?” He seeks. Almost angry in his demands.

“Lemon oil. For my hair.” You explain weakly as he plucks and grabs at you.

Descending into lustful madness. He catches the ripe berry of your clit with his rings and it makes you gasp. Bucking back to his chest. He likes that. When a little of your feral reaction to his touch makes you buck and lose your usually placid control. The man is taunting the seas and welcoming in a storm.

“Use it. Always.” He ordered huskily, Huffing as your hair sticks to his lips. Melding with the salt of ocean that he now understands beats through your skin and veins.

He would order ten thousand lemon trees to be bought here just for your use.So he can kiss your shoulders and your skin and always find it brimming with the bright note of that yellow fruit.

A small surrendering of your body as you arch back to him. Having pleased him brings something forth in you: something that eases. His pleasure allows you to relax the stiffness of your spine. Lower your guard.

He tugs your hair out the path of his lips. Delights in the evidence he found of his teeth all over your neck. His claim was skin deep. And he soon hoped it would be even deeper.

You are tugged back to the bed so his hands can wander all over you again. Your back curled to his chest as he lays you on your side. His hand sliding for your thigh to widen you open for him. Behind your hips you feel the hard length of him. He guides himself to you and your breath gets punched out of you as he pushes inside.

He pushes your leg open further to move to you deeper. He delights in finding evidence of your restless wedding night squelching deep inside your cunt. Throws his head back and groans with it.

He moulds his body to yours. Tacky skin. Warm cotton sheets kicked down the bed. Ringed metal and sharp jewels on every finger gripping the fat of your leg tight until he’s sure he’d left marks. Holding you open so he can plunge inside.

Your hand finds his where he crushed one breast in a grip so tight it makes tears spring to your eyes. Melding with the pleasure you cannot deny coming forth as he moves his hips to you so fiercely, your skin smacks where you meet.

Despite the sting of pain from being so overused, to way his fingers reach down to knowingly pinch and caress your clit where you’re spread open around him, makes wordless cries come out your throat. You clutch into the sheets and grit your teeth. His breath muggy hot against your neck. His hair a mess. Golden and fiery. Like stomped down wheat stalks at sunset. A lazy Bacchusian god.

“Let your husband hear you.” He encourages. Your moans and sweet as rare wine. Inbetween sucking and biting your neck. Asking for your sounds of ecstasy like he deserves them. A holy offering that praises him and washes away all sin.

“I don’t think you are goddess of the sea my love. With a cunt this sweet and tight? I think you must be a fertility goddess instead.” He proposes into your ear through harsh chuffs for breath.

“So tight. So fucking Intoxicating” he huffs. Cupping your tits and still moving to you as harshly and deep as he’s able.

He makes sure your breath cannot come as you steal his. A warm sweaty palm on your chin twists your head back to his. He anoints your lips with a messy kiss that echoes with the ghost of last nights wine and the tang of salt from between your legs. His tongue licks over your teeth. He drags every part of you up for devouring.

A commotion over by the door takes your mortified eyes over.

You see Aeliana and some of her maids coming in. When they see you both naked in the bed with Geta thrusting into you like a madman, you watch her eyes blow wide with shame. Head bowing. Arms laden with todays gown for you to wear. She halts the girls by her side.

Geta doesn’t even spare them a look. They are below his divine notice. He manages to lever his mouth off yours for a mere few seconds, to bark his orders and send them scurrying.

“Get out.” He shrieks. Voice ringing through you with the harshness of the sudden shout.

You twist your head into the sweat slicked pillow. Ashamed that they’d even just glimpsed you being used so.

His spit drying on your chin. His hand possessively cupping your cunt again as he fucked you so deeply, something tender within your pelvis had you nearly wailing.

His mouth goes to your neck again. His pace growing faster and faster. Sloppier. Noises of your sex only increasing. His hold on you is so intense it’s an ache. His fingers trailing through your curls and your folds to find that spot that will surrender you entirely to him.

He rears up behind you. Skin glued with heat to yours. He grabs you close as if you’ll fade under his fingertips like smoke. Hips hammering as he reached his pleasure. Yours came snapping down on him not long after.

That telltale tip and then the surge of ecstasy that broke through you. Cunt snapping down right around his cock as you came in shudders. Pulsing through you as his spend burst deep into you. Exactly where he wanted it. Wave after wave of pleasure. You let it take you. Little else you could do. Your strength to fight had turned stone cold.

You laid against him in cooling sheets. Listening to his chasing breath behind you. Feeling the wet and heat between your legs twofold. His sweat drips onto your back. Smeared as he laps at your neck. Fresh bruises and teeth indents are more raw than before.

You can barely notice. You’re more taken with the way your pussy squishes as he pulls free. The hot rush of his spend.

Hot breath comes over your ear again. You shudder and you’re not entirely sure it’s of pleasure. His lips kiss to your jaw and cheek. All this sweat and sex soaked skin. and still he finds lemons in your taste when he kisses you.

“Shall I have the maid fetch you water?” He seeks.

“I shall do it.” You shrink down with sex flushed cheeks. Pushing away from the bed with a wince. Hair draping down your back as you take a smooth sheet from the bed with you. Padding to the side. Hips swaying under the cotton. Your pelvis and thighs feel tender and aching - low and bone deep like sun burn - as you move to the amphora and goblets you’d used last night.

He sits on his elbows to watch you. Uncovered, cock laying soft against his thigh. His thighs and groin sticky-wet with evidence of your joining. Unabashed as to his naked state.

His eyes are hungry and you certainly give him a feast to watch. Clad in sunshine from the great maw of the window. Skin littered with violent red and purple marks in odes to his ownership of you. The smeared blood from bites at your back that he’d licked away.

You stand at the side. Laying your hands flat to the table where the jug stood. You found you didn’t reach for it right away. You looked at the very unfamiliar sight of the wedding band in your finger. The gold surrounded by the two dog heads fighting over the sapphire. A helpless jewel caught in between rabid teeth. How fitting.

Your shaking hands pour clear water into a cup and you drink it all quickly. The taste of metal and sleep fading from your tongue.

Bare feet padding the floor come behind you. The rustle of a fine robe. The red and gold one. He’s barely bothered to tie it closed around his chest.

“I must go and ready for the day. Loathe as I am to depart your blissful company.” He says. His hand slipping round the back of your neck. Bringing you in. Tasting the new wetness on your tongue as he kisses you. You muffle a moan to his lips as he possesses you in a kiss again. Squeak a little as he pulls away.

You don’t know what else there is to say.

Enjoy your gilded cage, little nymph. It’s all you’ll know from now on.

“Wear jewels and something pretty. I’ll come find you later. Wife.” He promises with a salacious smirk. Eyes you up and down like he wants to tear that sheet off and bend you over the lectus here and now. Smack the fat of your ass and claim you again.

A dark smile aimed your way. A thumb on your chin to bring you in for one more lippy kiss. And he’s off - stalking toward the doors. A lascivious look shot your way as he turns away.

You say nothing. You feel nothing. Nothing except for empty hollow rage that shakes through you. Pounds at the bony trap your ribs. Enough for you to shiver even in the warm morning air.

You feel scraped through. Brittle like fraying rope. He’s taken you from your home. Exiled your father. Forced shame upon your family. Killed your brother. Pushed his twisted lust upon you, and now expects you to react as if it’s dressed up in love.

You floated into his life like a midsummer’s night breeze. And he found you breathtaking, enchanting. Now he had you he wanted to cup you close. Seal you to his skin with his nose buried in the crown of your head whilst crowing mine mine mine.

He was in two minds of what to do with you. Cherish you, love you, pour crimson rose petals before your steps. On the other hand, he only knew violence when it came to love and to lust. He wanted to break you apart piece-by-piece like dry clay. Tear at you like those tigers in the coliseum and see what’s left.

He’s never known what to do with his things when it comes to love. Maybe he didn’t even know it at all. Only knew how to demand and take. Never to please or to give. He’s never had too.

And now he expects mightily. For you to sit pretty and wear jewels, rings, gold, and fine stolas. Support his every shrieked command. You must learn to sew your mouth shut and keep your opinions tamed back behind that same silent closure of thread.

An Empresses role was silence. How your soul quakes with that new pain.

The huge doors rattle again. The exit of the Emperor meant the maids were safe to come tend you.

Aeliana walks towards you. You raise your eyes to hers. Wet and wide. Tears on the quivering brink of your lashes.

She is unable to hide the noticeable switch of shock in her expression, when she sees the wounds you’d been saddled with. Teeth marks and bruises. Like you’re a slab of meat and not a cherished spouse.

She cannot fathom how you have more cuts for her to soothe balm on after your wedding night.

“Let’s get you to the baths, Empress.” She soothes. Opens her arm. Encouraged you to follow. She tries a bolstering smile but you both know it’s fragile. Her husky voice is the only kind thing you fear you’ll ever hear in this rotten place.

You nod. Swallow. Stand tall and let her manoeuvre you.

You can allow some tears to slip free when you’re in the water. Then you must banish your feelings. The maids must strap finery and silks onto your body again and truss you up in this farce. You steel every last splitting nerve whilst you can. Tamp them down. Gather the ragged ends up and soothe them. Clutch tight.

Naked, you wade down the steps and sink under the surface of the huge bath.

You’re tempted to not come up for air again. The water lulling you in its cradling warmth like an old familiar companion. As if a siren that you let drag you down. Plunge headlong into waves and succumb.

Unlike Odysseus, you don’t have the strength to fight its pull.

The bite on your shoulder turns the water clouded and rusty.

One salient thought gives you solace as the world around you grows numbs to your ears.

Atleast he drank deeply from the lies you’d fed.

~

Many sun and moons had set since your wedding night. Time marches its onward parade in the beautifully rotten imperial palace.

Geta and Caracalla were summoned to a Imperial Consul with the senators. To discuss the matters of their particular wish to expand the Roman empire to Persia and India. And possibly beyond that. They held Rome and all her starving subjects in a gold fisted vice. Refused to relent like a bratty child clutching a beloved toy. One that they would rather break to splinters in their grasp than see it enjoyed by someone else.

That was not the way of the gods, after all. It was their damn birthright.

They both slouch in their sloping marble carved chairs, in front of the rows of Senators, as the magistrate drones through the Verba fecit. Then they would read the protocols to address problems within the city.

Geta is not attempting to look amused or even mildly interested.

He slurps at a golden goblet of dark wine. A scowl like rolling thunder on his face. Dark eyes smouldering at any old senator who dares contest his gaze. Garbed in gold with rings on every finger. His black and gold silken robes folded in his lap, spilling to the ground.

Caracalla appears more interested in feeding grapes to Dondus. His manic grin shining. Gold tooth glittering in the half dim as he laughs. His creatures chirps and shrieks accompany the low drone of the voices rolling around the great marble room. Bounding off the pillars and echoing back.

Geta ground his jaw tight as he flickered a look to the side and caught sight of the very thing that had begun to vex him from the second he stepped into these chambers. Set far back behind him. Amongst the senators seats.

Your cushioned lectus remained vacant.

He grips his wine goblet too tight. fingers strangling the stem. His attention was brought back to the room as Senator Thraex cleared his throat. Summoning back his attention.

“… I would also like to wish you joy on your recent union. Caesar…. You have bestowed a fine and fair Empress onto Rome and her peoples…”

Geta narrows his eyes at the man. Coaxing out the rest sharply. Or else.

“Yet I cannot help but notice It has been four moons now since the Empress graced us with her presence here at counsel…. I do wonder if all is well. As Rome does deserve the full compliments of its masters here to guide us.”

Geta ground his teeth around an answer. The room throbs in the heady silence as he glares. Punctuated only by the monkeys chitters and the shuffling of Senators gazing at each other in arch amusement as to the meaning of the levied comment.

“The Empress is occupied elsewhere at present. I should hope you are not suggesting me and my brother are lacking in our duties in any way. Senator.” He replies curtly. Eyes thunder heavy and dragging over the dry old man. Umbrian danger.

“Of course not. Sire.” Thraex replied. Seeming unimpressed with the answer. “If you’ll permit me I should like to discuss the issue within the city of what is to be done of taxes within the Porta Capena quarter…”

Geta sunk into his cup again as the Senators droned on. His mood plunged below foul. Jaw tight. He turned to look at the lectus again. Venom in his blood at your absence.

When counsel finished. He stormed from his seat without another word. Robes sweeping the ground as he raced from the room. Sandals meeting the floor like slaps. Rage evident in his stride. He summons the nearest Praetoria. Who promptly comes to his side.

“Where is the Empress?” He snarls. A snake in coil about to strike. Bad enough he had to suffer the thinly veiled barbs of Senators asking why you were absent. Even worse was that you made him look a fool without even being here. They were casting foul allusions as to your marriage.

The guard hesitates before giving an answer. “She has left the Palace, Caesar.” He answers.

Geta’s anger comes sharp and packed in poison. A hiss. He asks so curtly it echoes to the ceiling. “And precisely where has she gone?”

~

At first, the noise and bustle of Rome was repugnant to you. Rancid and dirt and heat. Too much noise and not enough air.

Made putrid by stale sweat en masse bodies, horse manure, and smoke from fires mingling with roasting meat or oily charred fish from street vendors.

There was always shouting, someone selling wine, someone selling exotic wares, and bartering filling the air. Music bleeding from some side alley. Jugglers and slight of hands weaving through the crowds of servants and nobles and peasants, ready to part people from their coin.

You watch and just listen to it all from where you’re seated. A palla folded around your head and neck to block the otherwise fierce sun, also to obscure your features, give you shade wherein to hide your golden jewellery and rich dress.

Though you doubt anyone in this riotous city knows or even cares who you are. To a glance? You are just another rich merchants wife. Or noble woman. Unseen. Unremarkable. You do admire Rome for that small mercy atleast. To make you invisible in a crowd of thousands.

You’re seated at the edge of the fountain. The marble lip cold under your dress. Your hand dangling down into the clean waters. Trailing your fingertips through the cool of it. Water shimmers off the blue stones and pearls of your rings. If you squint, they are treasures cast on the shore. You can imagine you see specs of sand. Golden shells. Milky pearls waiting to be picked - tucked cosily in cream oyster shells.

You try to pretend. You fail.

Your personal praetorian guard lingers not far away. Varro. A perpetual huge shadow to you since your wedding.

Geta told you the morning after that you were to have him watch over you at all times. The man has been hulking after your every footstep since. It’s cloying, but nowhere as much as that palace is.

Varro boasts a huge figure and not one to be easily missed in a crowd. A warriors build. A scowl that could curdle milk. He’s solid. Brawny thick chest, stocky as a barrel, thighs thick as tree trunks, large arms and immense shoulders even without his plates of armour.

He had a proud chiselled face, dark hazel eyes and a prominent nose that had been broken before. Evidence of a pinking scar bumping at the bridge of it. Also a small nick dissecting his lower lip. His life had known pain. You can tell. Typical soldiers life. A body cut from the cloth of war. From polishing armour, baying for unease, and stepping to commands.

It’s hewn in the way he carries himself in crowds. Darting eyes and not feeling at ease, or any kind of sane, unless he can see all four clear corners around himself - and you. And convinced danger lurks behind every brick corner and down every side street. Huge hand permanently slung over the pommel of his sword. A warning.

He stands a little way across from you now. Looming proud as an old oak in the shade of a building and a market stall slung with rich cloth for sale. Shirking the sun and scowling at everyone. Basalt black hair falls like long thorns over, down his brow. Down the nape of his neck and collar, beaded in sweat.

Children scarper around him. Street urchins that clamour like flies on rot at his appearance. He gives no inch and tells them to move along with a curt nod. Steel stiff spine standing to attention. A merchant tries to sell him a cup of wine - red or white - they are silenced by his frown. He won’t touch a drop whilst on duty. Truth be told, You don’t think he knows how to be off duty. He’s not capable.

He’s an austere reminder of your station. Almost literally, in his dark black plate armour and wisteria purple cape swinging from his wide shoulders. A storm cloud eternally perched on the horizon of your day. His words come few and far between. You don’t think you’ve heard him string two full sentences together once. Except possibly in daggered warning;

You draw too much attention. Empress. It is bound to invite trouble.

You wanted to scoff at that irony.

You? In your hooded palla, draw attention?

When it is he, the man who guards you - like a grizzled dog - who is a thick immovable column of uniform widely recognised as imperial praetoria, wherever you turn in these streets? Unfathomable.

I am going to temple to pray. You may either escort me. Or explain to my husband why I have gone into the capital, alone.

His answer was a gruff glare. Acceptance and frustration entwined.

You have caused him to furrow his dark brows at you several times with a “Yes, Empress.” That came dragged through a displeased drone. A hound showing you his teeth before the jaws snap. Having to escort you into the city each day was laying contrary to his regulations to not have you in harms way.

You insisted. He obeyed. With little choice in the matter.

Every day you came here. One corner of the beating, shouting heart of Rome. You went to the Temple of Vesta and you prayed. And you went to a public fountain and let real life ebb in upon you once again. To find some peace away from the rabid emperors, who blaze at the palace with all the ferocity of fiery twin suns. They encompass all. Left little room for anything else. All life revolved around them. You float off in distant orbit.

You wave your fingers through the cool water. Tethered to one small piece of home again. Cool tides that brought you comfort. Reminded you of the sun soaked shores of home. Sunlight fracturing in diamonds off clear blue waters.

Feeling the sun beat down now on your neck through layers of cloth. You cast your eyes over the monuments to Neptune sat in this ornamental fountain. Sea gods and goddesses and creatures of sea foam. The other side where you are, women are washing clothes, or chatting over baskets fetched from market. You can smell perfumed oils, dried flower petals, and the sweet plump of ripe fruits tucked safe in the shade of their baskets.

How wild it is that until four weeks ago, that too had been your life. You didn’t sleep on silken sheets, get trussed in gold, and have servants poised so you never had to even lift a finger.

You knew comforts - of course. You had fine clothes and didn’t have to toil the fields. But you weren’t beyond spinning cloth or running errands. Helping clean and tidy your home. Fetching food or helping prepare meals. Coming home from market in the small town with oiled fish, scorpion fish, or boar, fresh chestnuts or olives. Dried meats sometimes too.

You thought of the olive trees lining the road to town. Huge and ancient. Offering branches that white doves often sat in - cooing away their calls. You thought of buying chestnuts for Ceres because she adored them so. Goats cheese for your mother that she liked with honey. Bunches and bunches of aniseed to make into Canistrelli biscuits for father.

The happy creak of your basket on your arm. Feeling the sun tangle in your hair as you shaded your eyes, felt the sea kissed breeze caress along your arms and back as if an embrace of a lover.

All those things you’d lost in one fell swoop. A life that had been snatched from you without your even getting a chance to bid it goodbye. Just like your brother. Your father.

And here you were now. Hiding away in the crowds. So lonely you felt its sting like the deepest shrapnel. A wound never closing. Always being prodded some more by the dire aspects of your circumstances. Anything to not be trapped in your gilded cage. Being reminded daily that your one use in that foul place, lay solely between your legs.

Two small girls come stumbling to an ungraceful stop, laughing, breathless and slowing from a run. They come right to your side to fill some amphorae with water. Dunking the clay jug into the clear water and letting it fill.

They each have dark hair and dark eyes. One must be close to Ceres’ age of six, toddling, milk teeth smile, youthful weight clinging to her cheeks, the other slightly older. Longer hair and a fuller smile. They have flowers pinched from a stall stuffed in their rusty coloured linen apron pockets. Some bay laurels and cornflowers.

You smile warmly at them. They smile back, unabashed. Joy seeping out of them. That brand of innocent fearlessness that grasps the young.

Turning your head you hear the clank of armour, feet shifting fast on dirt. Varro steps towards you with his scowl and his hand already on his sword.

You reprimand him silently. Gaze packed in ice. Jaw set. Mouth flicking to a grim line. You calmly hold up your hand and motion for him to step back. He’d scare the poor things.

You feel a gentle tug on your dress where it splays at your shoulders. Turning back, you see the younger one has her small hand on your dress.

You gently return your hand to your side. Seeing what she wanted your attention for. They both looked at Varro with much wide eyed curiosity. Only very rich ladies could afford a soldier. Only those of very high status. You fear he’s just betrayed your standing.

“Pardon me…” She utters. Her unsure voice carefully picking over the words. As if she was still learning larger words and their uses.

“Yes?” You smile. Touched by her boldness. Treating her with gentility.

“Are you the Empress?” She seeks. Forming words slowly. A curious tilt of her head.

You see no reason to lie.

You can feel Varros eyes burning a glare into your back. Harsher. More furious than the sun. Don’t.

“I am.” You respond.

They smile as if excited. Sharing a look. Both each producing a small laurel sprig from their stuffed pockets. They each step forwards and present the small branches out to you. A gift. You lay your hand flat and accept them both. Curling your fingers around branch stems.

“Gods blessings be upon you, Empress.” They speak in clunky unison.

You take the branches with reverence. Feeling the smooth leaves. The verdant and subtle scent coming from them.

“Pray tell me. What are your names?” You enquire.

The eldest speaks first. “Amata, Empress.”

The youngest follows suit. “Junia, Empress.” She tells you proudly.

You reach for your purse. Stowed safely within your dress folds away from the hands of beggars. You pluck out two coins and place them in their small hands. Junias hand reminds you if a small pudgy starfish. Curling round a silver shell.

“Blessings be upon you both. Amata. Junia. For your kindness…” You beam to them both.

They shimmer with mirth. Taking their jugs and scampering away through the crowds like nymphs.

Varro appears at your shoulder like an omen. “Empress.” He says your name lowly. Chiding you with his tone alone for revealing yourself to them.

“Surely two little girls holding flowers in their pockets, pose no danger to me.” You reply archly. Watching across the crowds where they’d disappeared.

“I only seek to resupply you of my one duty.”

“I don’t need reminding.” You tell him. Not unkindly. But he can hear the way you might be tempted to let the words be sharpened to little blades off your back teeth.

He’ll say this for you; you don’t have sharp teeth or poisonous tongue like every other noble in that palace. You are made different to their spoilt ways. Something sleeker and softer. All foam whipped off waves. You can sting and lash if required - you simply choose not too.

You hear bells toll for midday from the temple beyond. Clanging off the golden stone of every building around you. You fancy you can see the ripple of the sound sending waves to burst across the fountains surface.

Varro is giving you that stern look that urges you to be heading back. Before you’re started to be noticed. Before you become a perfidious gap in your Emperors day, when he isn’t vying for blood, gold or war. That or applying himself ruthlessly to the detriment of this great city, crushing his own people in the same way his favourite wine is made. Squeezing every drop til dry.

You hate to return. But you fear what wrath will come if you don’t. The thought of slipping away into these crowds and dipping into another form of life mocks you. Cowardice curbs your actions.

With some of the meagre coin in your pocket, you could try and make for the coast, possibly. You could disguise yourself as a merchants wife, or a servant. Anything to slip the golden net you’ve been landed in.

You wonder how far you’d make it, running away like a common ruffian, before the stomping hooves of a Roman battalion would be on your heels. Snatching you back here to be humiliated at Geta’s own insistence. The punishment he’d dole on you doesn’t bear thinking about. You were property after all.

You watch men and women weave in and out of the crowds, wishing you had half their luck as to put your back to this palace and peel away. Your mind wanders over that idea. A faint ember that dies to a curling puff of smoke. Snuffed out.

It doesn’t bear thinking about-

You take your offered laurel branches and stand. Varro takes up his guard. Eyes flicking all around. Searching for those corners he requires. For that split second of danger he can cleave his sword onto treasonous limbs for your protection.

You make your way back through crowds. Varro cutting a swathe for you. You keep your head down and remain quiet. Mind vacant as you move through the paved streets.

A flash of a body pushing past you takes your attention down a side alley. One arched with fabric awnings thrown over merchants stalls.

The flash of white turned out to be a senators robe. The vivid plum purple bordering white. You bat away the bitter thought of once recognising it as your fathers noble robes.

You catch sight of three people, stood on a street corner. One of them you don’t recognise but you know him to be a Senator. The two people he’s stood conversing with does make you stop in your tracks.

General Acacious and Lady Lucilla.

They are conversing deeply. Attention not given to you where you stand on the other side of the street. Shade cloaks them all. A moment out the sun. A place they hope guards them in obscurity. Talking with each other in hushed tones. Marcus and Lucilla wear hoods so as to hide their fine features from any obvious recognition.

The crowd trickles on around you. Water carving on around a large rock in the way.

Lady Lucilla raises her eyes. They flash to you in an instant. Dazzling green. A sun dappled meadow holding you in sight.

Her face falls as she halts her words. Lips parting. The General and the Senator both turn to follow her gaze. Finding you, caught static, at the other end of it. You recognise a prickle of panic when you see it.

You turn your head. Eyes snapping away as you hold your skirts and continue on.

Your guard says nothing. Though you know he saw what you just did. It’s not his place. He forgets all he sees or hears - all that doesn’t pose risk to you.

Maybe you weren’t the only person in Rome to wish the Palace walls didn’t have treasonous eyes and ears. You can’t help but wonder if perhaps Varro was right;

There is danger round these street corners in Rome.

~

Tagging in the hopes this finds its way to the right people- thank you--

@ceriseheaven @lurkingprincess @ramona-thorns @joequinnswhore @iliveforotps @eddiesskittle @roosterisdaddy36 @rose-tinted @lluviamg06 @ravensfromvalhalla @fujiihime @youaremyfamiliar @captain-tch @ghosttownwherenoonegoes @svenyves @sammararaven @feralgoblinbabe @groupie-love-71 @andromeda-andromeda @gvtosbith @munsonswhoresposts2 @shenevertricks1831 @hazzaismyreligion @anaisweird @cinnamoncunt @red-lipstick-bisexual @wheels-of-despair @tvserie-s-world @callmeloverr @ho-for-joequinn-fics @bettyfrommars @rip-quizilla @songforeddiemunson @usedtobecooler @peachesandfiends @littlelioncub43 @heyndrix @babybluebex @blueywrites @joejoequinnquinn @cool-nick-miller @sheneedsrocknroll92 @rehfan @pedgito @dracomaledicte @gamingaquarius @mypoisonedvine @sharp-and-swift @chaptersleftunwritten

[wistfulpoltergeist]

Municipal Muses Museum invites you to the Art of Dreaming! Dive yourself into the mystic and sensual universe of Aidan Rossetti's paintings!

Today the debut of a young artist Aidan Rossetti started. Nine oil paintings in classic style and vivid refreshing palette will take us on the stormy sea of Tartosa and the peaceful Summer spot of Windenburg.

Aidan Rossetti born on Tartosa. He believes he got his talent from two moms - his artistic biological mother and the mother nature herself.

Portraits of Rossetti's partner and muse Arwin De Winter is 1/3 of the works presented in Municipal Muses Museum.

Among others was presented the mysterious picture of ancient warrior watching the raising sun. The model for this picture was Rossetti's brother Roland Blackmore.

Don't hesitate to visit Municipal Muses Museum today to embrace inspiration and fresh experience!

"The Art of Dreaming" is open from 9 Am to 9 Pm on Sunday, Saturday and Wednesday. Entrance tickets 25§

DOWNLOAD PAINTINGS (Patreon / Free)

More about the paintings under the cut↴

The huntsman's resting

Classic pre-raphaelite portrait of a young man resting on the rock. Rossetti called him a huntsman, but we don't see any weapons around which makes us wonder what is he hunting?

Cold Summer Sun

Rossetti described this portrait as a "Cold Summer Sun". A young man is posing at the beach, the wind is touching his hair and the deep blue sea with the snowy mountains lies behind his back. The sun is glistening on the water, but the atmosphere of colours is cold and gives you a chill.

The Portrait of Arwin De Winter (Dark Version)

This is the copy of the portrait of Rossetti's partner Arwin De Winter. As Rosetti refused to sell any original painting of his beloved we can only enjoy a small version of this beautiful art.

The Portrait of Arwin De Winter (Bright Vrsion)

A bright version of the Portrait of Arwin De Winter. How many of these portraits were made you might wonder? According to Rossetti, he pictures his beloved whenever he is in a special mood. As you might guess, quite often, and every time this mood is different.

The Sun Has Risen

On this mysterious picture Rossetti shows us a man standing in the shadows, but a vivid ray of sunlight already pouring on his chest. He's looking far ahead in anticipation, ready to action. Whatever he was waiting for is already here.

Silent Resort

"Silent Resort" is one of the earliest Rossetti's paintings. It's soft palette raises feelings of peace with bitter anticipation of loneliness.

Among the trees

"Among the Trees" pictures the vivid summer landscape of Windenburg. Rossetti's warm green colours under the eternally blue skies bring comfort and rest to eyes and soul.

Before the Storm

Rossetti's "Before the Storm" pictures the diversity and richness of Tartosa's tranquil colors. Bright waters seem calm, but there's something disturbing in the skies.

Soldier Island

Following some whim, Aidan Rossetti called this work "Soldier Island". Due to its solitude, hard and sharp ground that gives shelter and protection to lush greenery, or a line of alert-looking trees, standing at attention like a warrior battalion. Life is a battle, Rossetti likes to repeat, but only within it you find the fertile lands and tranquility of mind.

[jayhyunglover]

On the first snowfall

Fairytale AU

Prince! Zayne x princess! Reader

Contents: depictions of violence (not hardcore because I am soft) , mentions of injuries and blood , slightly suggestive at the end , childhood friends to lovers. Angst but happy ending (yippie)

Synopsis: only a true love kiss can bring him back (based off Snow White and the 7 Dwarfs )

Word count : 8.9k

A/N: this took me forever to finish (4 days to be exact). It's my first long fic and English is not my first language so please be kind. Reblogs and like are appreciated. Happy reading !!

"Please Daddy" the toddler tugged at Zayne's sleeve lips jutting out in a small pout that made her resemble so much to her mother

"Ok but you promise you'll go back to bed after" Zayne sighed in defeat it was past curfew and his little angel seemed intent to give him an hard time.

The little girl nodded,  hazel eyes lighting up at the prospect of getting a bedtime story.

Zayne picked her up effortlessly making his way towards the bed to lay down on her bed full of plushies

With his daughter tucked comfortably against his side on the small bed he spoke in a rather monotone voice.

"Once upon a time , in a kingdom far far away lived a prince"

"Was he pretty ?" She interrupted him , voice filled with childlike excitement and wonder.

"According to some yes" he replied making small projections with his evol.

"This prince lived with His dad and never knew his mother"

"What happened to her?" She asked tilting her head like a sad puppy .

Not wanting to crush the 5 years old little girl's spirit Zayne choose his next words carefully.

"She joined the Angels up in the skies where she now look after him" he replied

"Oohh" her lips was forming  a small Oh,  surprise painting her soft features.

Zayne felt his heart melt at the sight , the love he felt for this literally bundle of joy too overwhelming.

"One day the prince's father the king got married to another woman , who had a son" Zayne continued the story while she listened intently,  eyes flickering over the snow figures he created with his evol to animate the story.

"The Queen didn't like our prince none bit"

"Why?" She asked pouting.

"Well because,  my snowflake,  the Queen wanted her son to become the next king" he retorted flicking her nose which make her pout deepens

"But our prince was there first" she huffed crossing her small arms over her chest.

Zayne just smiled patting her hair that was already ruffled from turning in her bed before picking the story where he left it.

"One day there was a big event taking place in the Palace. An hunt where the Winner will have to go in a forest and catch the biggest and fastest animal and bring it back to the Princess to earn a kiss from her"

"You're not considering participating right Zayne?"

Her voice made the young man jolt almost dropping his book.

"You" he looked at her who was standing on her tip toe to peek over his shoulder.

Adjusting his glasses he replied

"I am the Prince of Eladia , it is my duty to attend"

"You know there's no need" she waved him off "I am willing to give you a kiss whenever you-" her words got cut off by Zayne's hand who dragged her in a secluded corner , the tip of his ear flushed red , eyes darting around awkwardly to make sure nobody heard them.

"So you want it now?" She smirked deviously at  him , her words slightly muffled by his hand he hastily removed.

What is wrong with her?

"This is not-" a sigh "this is not what you think" he pinched the bridge of his nose but her smirk just got wider

"Sure your majesty" she nudged his elbow playfully before speaking in a more serious tone "but Seriously Zayne you really shouldn't participate to this hunt"

"And may I know why ?" He shook his head

Not even letting her answer he strutted his way ahead leaving her rotted to her spot.

"Why is he so rude?" The little girl exclaimed making Zayne stammer in his tale , the tip of his ear flushing bright pink.

"He might  be a bit stubborn" he replied before continuing

"I've heard the forest is dangerous with weird creatures roaming in it" she jogged after him but he was quicker , his legs way longer .

"You've  heard,  not seen" he retorted pace not faltering.

What a jerk I am looking out for him and this is how he Thanks me ? She thought to herself.

"But isn't it better to be prepared?" She retorted holding the pans of her dress while literally chasing after him , not even a care for the weird glances the servants and the Guards were casting toward them.

Everyone in this palace knew the Prince of Eladia and the princess of  Eralyon were close.

"I will be" Zayne reassured her finally stopping in his track.

"Fine" she sighed raising her hands in surrender "go ahead and participate but you better win because ain't no way I am kissing that pearlescent frog" she jabbed a finger in his chest earning a small smile from him.

He caught her wrist gently before bringing it to his lips and leave a delicate kiss on her skin.

"Anything for you your highness" he murmured against her skin , hazel eyes looking up at her.

She quickly withdrew her hand from his grasp , feeling her cheeks flush and her heart thump

"Hmm w-well" she stammered , words failling her . Cheeks blushing the prettiest shade of pink he has ever seen.

"All I can say is good luck and make sure to come back in one piece." She uttered after finally regaining her bearings

"I sure will" he nodded but she was already making her way toward God knows where leaving him dumbfounded in the alley.

What's wrong ? Was kissing her wrist inappropriate?

Zayne's eyes followed her form until she turned into a corner. Mind still mulling over her reaction as he made his way to the Royal library to return the book he was reading.

"How I hate this" she muttered herself,  moving her fan like she was wrestling with it , this dress felt too tight , the heat unbearable even if they were outdoor .

The Queen  was sitting on a small platform while the princess was sitting alone on another. The King well wasn't present because he was ill its been 3 months since he doesn't step out of his room. Only the Queen knows about his whereabouts.

The princess's eyes were roaving around the crowd below searching for Zayne When her eyes fell on him she quickly excused herself to go wish him Good luck.

"Zayne" she sauntered over him., eyes filled with a mixture of excitement and worry. 

A small smile crept up Zayne's lips when his eyes fell on her.

"I cant believe you didn't listen to me" she crossed her arms over her chest, a small pout tugging at her lips .

She looked so adorable he caught himself of thinking about leaning down and kissing that pout of her lips.

"I thought you gave me your blessing" he said tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ear making a small shiver ran down her spine.

"You were gonna take part with my blessing or not" she retorted batting his hand away. "Just come back safely" she murmured in a small voice hands grasping his

He looked down at their hands before looking back at her face

"Why do you worry so much about me?"

His question seemed to catch her off of guard making her sputter out

"Because you're my friend of course" yet she didn't seem herself convinced by her words "and you have to win because I am not kissing that pearlescent frog you have for a brother" she let go of his hand to cross her arms over her chest .

Zayne was tempted to prob further but the sound of clarion interrupted them.

Before he could hop on his horse she took his hand and left a kiss on the top of his palm.

"Good luck kiss" she winked at him before making her way to her seat leaving him a fluttery mess of heartbeat and flushed cheeks.

The princess made her way toward her seat,  eyes heavy with a mixture of sorrow and sadness she couldn't quite pinpoint.

Zayne rode through the forest mind still reeling from the unexpected kiss she gave him , he could still feel the skin where her lips touched him tingling.

Get a grip Zayne he scolded himself.  You're here for a purpose not to daydream like lovesick fool.

The sound of scrunching leaves made his ear perk up , his horse coming to a stop when he felt a shadowy presence around him.

The forest was eerily quiet,  not even a bird singing only the rustle of leaves could be heard . Drawing his bow , his senses were on high alert ready to eliminate Whatever threat was lurking in this dense forest

"Well well look like his majesty can't even catch a simple prey" his stepbrother's voice Christian echoed , grating his ear as always.

"Christian" he lowered his bow , eyeing him suspiciously. "I dont recall inviting you"

Christian let out a small laugh stepping out the shadow, brown locks neatly styled , gray eyes filled with mischief. Hands raised in mock surrender

"Relax brother we're on the same boat aren't we ?" He grinned pearly white teeth gleaming like fang "both fighting for the princess's Attention and maybe more"

Zayne ignored him getting off of his horse to lead it through the dense foliage.

Christian was never up to no good and he wouldn't let him ruin his day , nope not today not when he has a beautiful princess waiting for him with a kiss.

"Do what you want" Zayne spoke not sparing him a glance. "Just stay out of my way"

Christian just trailed behind him, unnervingly silent

"The princess seems quite fond of you" he observed trying hard to sound disinterested  "Its a shame you didn't listen to her" he shrugged nonchalantly

"What the-" before Zayne could process anything he found himself pined against a tree a dagger pressing against his stomach

"Such a shame we could have been best buddies" he let out a dramatic sigh , eyes gleaming with a feral hunger "all because you had to be a legitimate son" he tsked dagger piercing through Zayne's stomach making hot white splashes of pain wash over him , the metallic tang of blood filling his mouth.

He withdrew his dagger , letting Zayne slump against the ground

"Its nothing personal you know" Christian reassured him cleaning his dagger in Zayne's overpriced coat "just politics and dont worry" he pressed his feet down Zayne's wound making him choke on his own blood . "I'll make sure to take care of your princess , I bet her lips taste sweeter than those  desserts you love to indulge yourself in Huh?" he smirked feet pressing harder against Zayne's stomach.

"Rest in peace , your highness, the kingdom will hardly misses you" he bowed dramatically before turning his heels leaving Zayne for dead in the deep forest

The young man couldn't do nothing but lay there in his own blood as his murderer walked away leaving him hopeless mind swirling with thoughts of her , his mom, his father , her bright  smile when she found him crying in the palace gardens after his mom death , how she offered him sweet to brighten his day  , how he likes them since that day.

What a shame she will never know how her smile brighten up his day , how he loves seeing her scrunch up her nose in annoyance when he tease her too much or how he likes it when she openly flirt with him even if he pretend he's annoyed by it . She will never know how much he loves her,  never know how much he wanted to win so she won't have to kiss his brother but it was too late now laying in the blood soaked ground , only his dead body and regrets remain.

"Is he dead ?" The little girl tugged at Zayne's wrist making his heart clench in his chest.

"No my little snowflake" he reassured her stroking her cheeks gently.

She nudged closer to him , her head resting against his shoulder waiting for him to continue.

The princess was pacing back and forth in her room , heart twisting with worry . It was already late in the evening and Zayne haven't returned.

"Be safe , be safe" she continued to murmur , clutching the jade necklace he offered her for her 18th birthday 3 years ago.

"Your highness" the sound of 2 guards standing at her doorstep pulled her out of her trance and before she knew it she was standing in front of them.

"What happened? Has his majesty returned?" She fired  question after question,  her anxiety coming off in a wave.

The guard looked oddly uncomfortable,  eyes darting away from her.

"What's wrong? Where's Zayne?" She pressed on

"His majesty hasn't came back" one guard spoke up eyes looking anywhere but her

"According to Sir Christian" the other continued "he got attacked by a beast and didn't make it"

"Bullshit"

The guard's eyes widened.  It was the first time they heard the princess Swear .

"Zayne is the best archer in the kingdom unless that beast was a certain pearlescent frog , I don't believe your charades" she waved them off strutting her way out of the room

"Your highness where are you going ?" The guards called out after her

"Going to do your job since you are so incompetent at it" she shouted adjusting her cloak.

"The princess did what?"

"S-she left" a small gasp left the messenger's lips when the butter knife that was in the Queen's hand flew pass his head.

"This little Eralyon brat" she stifled through her teeth before excusing the trembly messenger

"No need to get so worked up Mother" Christian who just arrived in the dining  room patted her shoulder.

"She's just a little girl with no defense ,a damsel in distress and who will be the prince that will save her?" He offered his mother that same mischievous smile.

"You" she scoffed "but that still doesn't solve our issue"

"What issue ?" Christian plopped himself on a chair across the dining table

"You haven't done your job properly Christian,  he's still alive" she retorted

The man drew a long breath , the gears already turning in his mind .

"How could you be sure ? The dagger was poisoned and the wound was fatal"

"Those nuisances of creatures saved him , the mirror told me so"

Ah this infamous magical mirror, such a pain in the ass Christian thought.

"So now what do you suggest?" He asked caressing his stubble.

"We finish the job obviously" she rolled her eyes as if the answer wasnt obvious.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~◇~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Is he alive ?"  A fluttery voice asked

"Obviously- what the fuck!!! Why are you naked? we have guest over"

"Narilyn stole my clothes- ouch! That hurts"

Zayne's head was throbbing , the pain in his stomach almost unbearable and now he was hearing voice ?? Was he in hell?

"Stop fighting you 2" another voice more mature, more firm "you're disturbing his sleep" 

Zayne's eyes fluttered open only to see 3 colored heads snapping back toward him

"He's awake" the same fluttery voice exclaimed making the blue haired being smack a book on her head. 

"PUT SOME FUCKING CLOTHES ON" she continued to smack her making her fly away.

Wait fly . Zayne eyes widened further . Aren't those early signs of schizophrenia ?

"No you arent dreaming" the white haired one who seemed the oldest spoke up.

Zayne had so much question . How did he get here ? Wasnt he supposed to be dead ? What were those winged being ?

As if reading his mind the white haired fairy provided him with answers

"We found you for dead in the forest and brought you here and as for what we are-"

"We are the 7 guardians of the forest" Zayne was startled by the presence of another fairy , this one had green hair and eyes , long wings shining with bright glitter that looked like stardust.

"Narylin" she offered him her hand with a bright smile. Zayne hesitated to grasp it still confused by this situation but she didn't seem to mind .

"Narylin you pest give me back my clothes" the fairy who was still apparently naked exclaimed, blonde hair sticking to her skin as she tried her best to avoid her sister's  book attack.

"I didn't take it" Narylin shrugged while the white haired fairy let out an heavy sigh.

"I am here" another presence stepped inside the small house only to quickly bend down to avoid a lamp thrown after the blonde fairy.

"They are fighting again" the red haired fairy who just arrived shook her head.

Feeling her patience wearing thin the white haired fairy flicked her fingers  making them stop their useless bickering.

The fairies all gathered around her after the blonde one successfully found her clothes.

"State your name stranger" the purple haired one pointed a lance at him making the blonde one giggle and the blue haired facepalm herself

"Melida this is not how we greet a guest" the oldest scolded her gently.

Zayne just watched them dumbfounded,  the fairies were no bigger than a water bottle ,  there were 7 of them all with different hair colors and translucent wings that shone brightly.

"Its an honor to meet you, your majesty" the withe haired one bowed at him making the other follow suit. 

They knew he was the prince ? How ?

"I-" Zayne's words failed him , this was too outlandish to be true , he never believed in fairytales or the existence of strange creatures not even when the princess would tell him tales about them.

"The pleasure is mine?"  He found himself replying , the words more like a question than a statement but that seemed to satisfy them.

"I am Sonia" the blonde haired one exclaimed flying land on his shoulder.

"And this is Melida." She pointed at the purple haired one , "Hydrangea" blue haired one that chased after her for dear life "Lily" red haired one , "Narilyn" green haired one "Rose" pink haired one "and our older sister "Sapphire" she pointed at the white haired one. She was the only fairy whose eyes were a different color than her hair , they were blue not white.

"What about you ? What's your name ?" Sonia inquired head tilted to the side to look at him.

"Zayne" he murmured eyes snapping from Sapphire

"Zayne it's pretty like you" she giggled

"Its pretty like you" she smiled brightly.

Zayne felt his head throb at the memory eyes screwing shut as the pain washed over him.

"We should let him rest he still hasn't healed properly" Sapphire said making everyone hang their head low in shame.

Sonia who was perched on his shoulder flew towards the rest of her sisters leaving him alone.

"Rest well your majesty" she waved at him.

Zayne waved back at her mind swirling with unanswered questions.

He plopped himself down on the small bed he was resting on thinking.

He's alive . Well that's a good sign . But how many times has passed since he's here? Does everyone think he's dead ? Does she think he's dead ?  Is she alright ? Knowing how stubborn she could be , she's probably searching for him everywhere but even him didn't know where the hell he was Exactly.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~♡~~~~~~~~~~~~~

What made her think hopping on an horse and rode through this forest a good idea?

The thing you'd do for love. Wait love no she's not in love with him,  she's  just doing her duty as a future Queen and his bestfriend. That's it.

"Yeah that's it- AHH" the footsteps of nearby horse made her own drop her

"Fuck" she massaged her head taking of dead leaves stuck on the strands

"Princess,  princess" Christian tsked kneeling to be at her eyes level "don't you know this forest is dangerous for such a precious thing like you"

"You tell me it seems the perfect a habitat for a pearlescent frog like you" she shrugged leaning against her palms.

Christian chuckled trying his best to mask his irritation

"Such a sharp tongue" he cupped her chin , thumb caressing her bottom lip "makes me wonder if it can only give witty remarks"

she felt a wave disgust washes over her . Bile rising up her throat

Who the hell does he think he is ?

"It can also bite" she retorted making his eyebrows furrow before he could process her words she bit him hard enough to draw blood before starting to run away in the dense forest

"This little bitch" he hissed  "get her" he ordered the Guards "seems like I'll have to teach this Eralyon brat a lesson"

She ran as fast as possible, her heart pounding in her chest, breath erratic. She didn't have a destination in mind, engulfing herself deeper in the dark forest without a care for her safety. She needed to get away from this mad bastard and find Zayne.

But alas, fate had other things in store for her since she tripped on a dead branch and fell flat on her face, the impact causing the breath to get knocked out of her lungs.

No, you can't stop now. She was about to stand up and keep running, but Christian's booted foot pressed against her shoulder blade, pushing her against the ground.

"Such a shame, Princess. If only you didn't have to be so difficult," he yanked her by her hair while she tried to fight off his grip.

"So feisty. I'm going to have so much fun with you, Princess of Eralyon," he grinned ,nosing her pulse while she felt like throwing up. "I'll tame you," he murmured against her neck, inhaling her scent, "make you my little puppet."

"In your dreams, Christian," she spat, eyes blazing with fury.

"A dream that's about to become true," he chuckled darkly before injecting a potion into her side, making her body fall limp in his arms.

He carried her back to his horse after instructing the guards to get back to the palace.

Zayne was getting better with the fairies tending to his wounds when they weren't busy fighting that is

"It's mine" Hydrangea shouted  hugging the small snowman Zayne made for them with his evol.

"Nope" Sonia countered pushing Hydrangea off the snowman with a jet of gold glitters "my friend's confection,  mine" she retorted standing on top of the snowman,  wings fluttering.

"And stop fighting over this human ?" Melida who was sharpening her weapon added

"Will you 2 stop shouting for 2 minutes? There's people trying to read in peace" Lily who was reading a book interrupted them

"Its her fault" the blue haired fairy pointed at Sonia who stuck her tongue out mockingly.

Zayne just observed their interaction with a small smile while chopping the vegetables for dinner.

The oldest fairy suggested that he stayed here until he completely heal . The others were eager for hjm to stay (Sonia and Narilyn in particular) while Melida was still wary of him.

"Your majesty are you single?" Sonia asked flying to rest on his shoulder which seemed to be her favorite spot.

The question caught Zayne off of guard making his cheeks flush

"Mmh I guess" he replied focusing on the dinner he was making.

"You guess ?" Hydrangea tilted his head at him , eyeing him suspiciously.

"I mean I am not engaged or married" he shrugged,  stirring the pot on the stove.

"Strange your heart says otherwise" Rose the pink haired fairy spoke up , she has the softest voice out of them all.

"Haha told you he was taken" Hydrangea exclaimed before dodging the pea thrown by Sonia who was pouting arms crossed over her chest.

"How would you know?" Zayne asked in disbelief.

"Rose is a fairy of love of course she knows when someone's heart is taken" Lily who was still absorbed in her book replied.

"And your dear crush is" Hydrangea taunted Sonia who was now on top of her fighting again.

"Why would you have a crush on a human?" Melida who finally put her weapon down scoffed.

"Yeah he's so big it's not like it's gonna fit" Narilyn who appeared out of nowhere shrugged making Zayne's eyebrows furrow

"What is not gonna fit?" Zayne asked curiously making Sonia's cheeks flush red and Hydrangea giggle.

"How is he so innocent?" Lily whispered under her breath.

Some days when They weren't bickering they all gathered around Zayne to hear him talk about his life back at the palace or the princess who've taken his heart (not that he'll ever admit it )

Days turned into weeks and even if Zayne appreciated the fairies and their care one part of him longed to return to his home , to see his people,  to see her , hold her,  kiss h- no Zayne get ahold of yourself

They were in the forest,  picking up branches and berries for dinner when the pink haired fairy came up to him with a flower crown in her hands

"And a flower crown for the prettiest prince of the kingdom" Rose put the flowery crown on his head making his heart melt and his mind jog back to vivid memories

"I am the only prince of the kingdom and what's that for ?" The 14 years old boy asked , his eyebrows furrowing in confusion

"Consider this as a pre wedding gift until you actually accept to marry me" she replied resting her hands on her hips

"aren't we a little bit too young for that?" He asked adjusting the crown on his head

"Why ?" She muttered creeping behind him to steal a glance at his book "we are both from Royal family arent we ?" She smiled looking up at him and she was so close , her perfume enveloping him in a soft cloud.

"you cant even tie your own  shoelaces properly and you're already thinking about wedding" he flicked her forehead playfully causing her to let out a small oof nose scrunching up in annoyance

"I'll have you know I can perfectly tie my shoelaces" (lie she couldn't)  she retorted rubbing the sore spot on her forehead "and beside I don't need that to get married"

"To get married to me you do" he countered already making his way ahead while she trailed behind him. "And beside as I said  you're too young" he added making her huff

"I am 12 years old already" she retorted clutching the hem of her dress while she tried to keep up with his pace.

"Exactly too young" he deadpanned still walking ahead , flower crown sitting perfectly on his head.

He really hoped his words would dissuade her but it seemed doing quite the opposite

"Does that mean you'll marry me when I get older?" She asked , eyes gleaming with excitement

Please no.

Zayne let out an heavy sigh finally turnin back to face her.

"If you can tie your shoelaces by this time,  then yes" he nodded , the tip of his ear turning red while his eyes darted away awkwardly

"But I can tie my shoelac-"

"We both know that's not true" Zayne retorted pointing at her shoelaces that were undone

Before she could say anything he bent down on one knee to tie her shoelaces leaving her dumbfounded and blushing like a tomato

"Here future wife" he winked at her.

"Future wife" Zayne smiled to himself caressing the Jasmine petals of the flowers crown sitting on his head

"You really do love her, dont you?" Rose sat down on his shoulder pink eyes looking up at him

"Who ?" Zayne asked in disbelief

"Your princess" Rose offered him a soft smile

"You're mistaken" Zayne shrugged making her fly off  his shoulder. "She's my friend"

"It doesn't change the fact that your heart belongs to her" she retorted shrugging her shoulders playfully while Zayne bent down to pick up a stray branch.

"Aren't you planning to tell her ?" She asked wings fluttering as she flew around him

"There's nothing to tell" he replied making his way deeper through the woods

"Are humans always this stubborn or is it just you?" She asked her voice soft and genuine.

"Its not called being stubborn, it's the truth" he mused aloud adjusting the strap of the bag that was carrying the wood for the fire.

"It doesn't sound like it" she retorted

Now she was the one being stubborn. He thought

They continued to bicker (more like Rose trying to open his eyes and make him realize he's hopelessly in love. ) unaware of the fact the Queen was observing them through her enchanted mirror.

"Stupid creatures" she spat under her breath nails digging in her palms

"Why cant he just die?" She muttered to herself voice dripping with venom before turning her head to the princess who was trapped in a deep slumber

"Hopefully we got the perfect bait" she smiled , creeping closer to the girl peacefully asleep .

Once she was at her level , she cut a strand of her hair to carry on her schemes.

"Dont worry dear" she caressed her face "your beloved will join you soon" her devilish laugh rang across the room bouncing off against the walls

"The wound is healing nicely,  you'll be able to go back home in a few days" Sapphire who was checking his almost non existent wound spoke up.

"What do you mean 'go back'?" Sonia who was playing card with Hydrangea and Narilyn exclaimed making her way to where Zayne was sitting on the bed

"You didn't seriously expect he'd stay here?" Melida scowled but Sonia's eyes were already gleaming with tears making Zayne's heart clench.

Even if it was hard to believe during this short time Zayne spent here , he's grown quite fond of the fairies , even if they fought (over him) a lot , he found their relationship endearing .

"I mean" he rubbed the back of his neck nervously "I have to go back to my duties"

"And his lover" Hydrangea added earning a glare from Sonia

"But you won't forget about us right ?" Rose who also flew towards where he was sitting asked in a gentle voice pink eyes shining with a mixture of sadness and hope.

"Of course no" Zayne reassured them and before he knew it they were all tackling him on the bed in a group hug even Melida who seemed hostile towards him at first (and still now)

Zayne hugged them back carefully to not crush them with his arms when a shout of his name echoed outside.

This voice.

"ZAYNE" another shout.

"Who dare interrupting us ?" Melida grumbled under breath before they all carefully untangled from Zayne.

"Zayne" the girl shouted again voice bordering on desperation.

Zayne stepped out the small house only to fall face to face with her , his princess,  his love , the one he spent all those days longing for , all those nights dreaming of .

"You're here" he whispered,  he couldn't believe it , she was there standing in all of her glory. Face lighting up when her eyes fell on him.

"Zayne" she ran towards him arms wrapping around his neck to squeeze him tightly "you're alive, I was so worried" she cupped her cheeks to look closely at his face "I thought you were dead" her thumbs stroked his cheeks softly.

Zayne's head was swimming in an ocean of relief and joy , his love was there , she was there with him looking way to lively , clean and polished for someone who just rode all the way through those woods

The fairies who followed closely behind Zayne observed the scene with wary gazes.

"Something is off" Lily muttered making Rose nod

"She doesn't seem to be the one his heart call for" she murmured in that soft voice of hers

"How did you find me?" Zayne asked cradling her head gently

There was not a  single leaf in her hair as if she appeared out of nowhere but Zayne was too happy to notice

"I went through the hell that are those woods , even when I felt like  giving up I didnt because I knew I'd have to find you" she stood up on her tiptoe , hands caressing his chest in a way that felt way too wrong way too out of character.

She's there with you no need to get lost in semantics

"I don't know what I would have done  if I didn't find you" she murmured eyes dropping to his lips in a way that made Zayne shudder.

"Shouldn't we intervene?" Sonia asked voice bubbling with a mixture of jealousy and concer.

The energy coming off of this girl screamed to run away but they didn't want to come off as rude and possessive so they watched from the sidelines.

"So worried" she murmured tugging Zayne closer by his collar and he didn't  fight her off because why would he ?

After all this time , he finally get to see her ,to touch her , as if hypnotized he let her pull him in her grasp lips hovering above his.

"We need to do something" Sonia exclaimed shaking Narilyn by her shoulders.

But alas it was too late because as soon Zayne's lips collided with hers he sank to his knees,  a wave of fatigue  washing over him.

"So pathetic" she scoffed pushing him with her foot "it was almost too easy" she knelt beside him while Zayne was fighting to keep his eyes open.

"I knew taking this little bitch's appearance would do the trick but I didn't think you'd fall for it so easily" her tone was cruel,  dripping with venom so different from the Princess he knew.

"Who are you?" Zayne mumbled eyes drooping.

"I am the last face you'll see before leaving this world." she bent down to whisper in his ear before Zayne's body fell limply on the cold ground.

"Me?" Her eyes gleamed with a mixture of madness and feral hunger that reminded him so much of Christian.

The fairies all bolted towards him , Sonia furious threw a bolt of lightning toward the impostor princess who dodged it easily.

"Its too late" she laughed out features twisting into such a feral grin "it's just a matter of time before he die"

"You scum" Melida surged  forward planting her lance above the corner of the impostor's eyes who let out a shriek of pain.

The soft features that was once the the face of the one who stole Zayne's heart morphed into the sharp features of his stepmother.

"You have no right to be there Onyx" Sapphire who just arrived spoke up.

The Queen stopped dead in her track eyes narrowing at the fairies.

"You won't be able to save her this time sister" she spat before turning her heels , leaving Zayne cold and unconscious on the ground.

Will he make it out ?

Her eyes fluttered open , her head throbbing ,her mouth and throat dry.

"Where am I?" She sat up only to realize she was bound to the bed she was laying on by chains.

"What the-"

"Your majesty , you're awake" she heard a small voice says .

She turned her head toward the sound only to see a white owl talking.

Wait a white owl talking???

"What the fuck??" She almost shouted but the owl quickly shushed her

"You're gonna wake him up" he hushed out.

Pressing her lips shut , she observed the owl curiously,  after days being unconscious the first thing she sees when she wakes up is this!!.

"We need to find a way to get you out of here" the owl exclaimed landing on her arm with the key in his mouth.

Since only one of the Princess's hand was bound she took the key from him to unlock the locket that bounded her chains together.

When she was finally free she got off the bed not without caressing the owl's head.

"Thank you for your help"

The owl nuzzled against her hand before replying

"You're welcome,  your majesty,  please find my son and save him I've been too blind by love to see she was a degenerate,  only you now can save us all"

His son wait was that owl the king who apparently got sick 3 months ago ?

She had so much question but she knew now wasn't the time to ask them she needed to get away from here and fast.

The room she was staying in obviously wasn't hers , there was a large mirror clad in the walls and a table full of weird potions and instrument.

This has to be the Queen Room.

"Hurry, your highness" the owl croaked out.

The princess quickly grabbed a dagger that was resting on the table with a bottle that had "Don't touch , for emergency only" written on it . Shoving them on her nightgown's pocket , she stole one of the Queen's overpriced coat and stormed off the room with the owl following closely behind her.

The palace seemed to be in a whirlwind,  servants walking back and forth preparing what looked like a grandiose banquet.

Not wanting to dwell on this she clutched the cloak tightly around her making her way toward the palace horse boxes to steal an horse.

Her plan went smoothly,  way too smoothly for her taste as if someone laid out the path for her to take.

Focus , we need to find Zayne and fast. She shook her head, pulling on the reins of her horse.

The owl continued to follow her , leading her way through the forest to find Zayne.

"How did the Queen managed to trap you in this form?" She questioned him curiously

"She poisoned me" he replied  , still flying

"Poisoning you?" She tilted her head curiously.

"With a kiss" he responded before landing on a stray branch.

"How outlandish" she whispered under her breath.

She hasn't spent a lot of time with the Queen but she always found her shady , especially since her son Christian couldn't stop trying to win her over even when she make it clear she wasnt interested.

They continued their journey through the forest only stopping to feed her horse , she was too anxious to eat anything. The knot in her stomach not easing until she found him.

It was past 3 weeks since he disappeared the day of the Hunt. She didn't know what  could have happened to him during this time . Was he safe ? Was he alright? Oh Christ she was going die of worries at this rate.

"Do not worry" your majesty the owl reassured her, resting against her shoulder.

"My son is a tough one , he'll be alright"

"I hope" she let out a small sigh.

"Will he make it out ?" Sonia asked caressing Zayne's pale skin.

He was laying in a sanctuary of Jasmine's flowers , eyes closed shut , his beautiful features relaxed in a peaceful slumber.

"The incantation is strong" Sapphire mused blue gaze dropping to the ground "I fear only a true love kiss can bring him back"

The silence that fell upon them was deafening.

"A true love kiss" Rose repeated voice distant as her eyes roamed over Zayne's face.

"Snow" she looked up at the sky feeling a small snowflake landing on her nose.

"Its snowing" she murmured to herself.

"Its snowing Zayne , come and play with me" the little girl exclaimed tugging at his arm.

"No you'll probably catch a cold" the little boy shook his head not budging an inch from where he was sitting on the couch.

"B-but" her lips wobbled "it's the first snowfall of the season and you know what the legend said"

"I don't" he retorted,  hazel eyes boring into hers "please enlighten me"

"Don't you know" she sat down legs crossed in front of him , eyes gleaming with that same spark of excitement they had everytime she talked about something she was passionate about.

"If 2 people share a kiss under the first snowfall, they wil last forever" she smiled widely , eyes knowingly gazing at him.

"And what does this have to do with us?" He asked still skeptical

"Let's go outside and kiss so we will last forever" she exclaimed making him choke on thin air.

What is wrong with her ?

Zayne erupted in a fit of coughs , face red from embarrassment .

she's only 11 for God's sake . Why does she keep catching him off of guard like this?

"Are you ok?" She quickly stood up massaging his back as he slowly regained his composure

"I am fine I am fine" he uttered , his embarrassment finally subsiding.

She nodded seemingly reassured even if her eyes still held a trace ofconcern.

"Then let's go play , your majesty" she took her hand already dragging him outside to play.

"The first snowfall" she murmured letting the snowflake melt on her palm.

"2 people who kiss under the first snowfall will last forever. Sounds straight out of a fairytale,  don't you agree princess ?" Christian's sly voice made her ears perk up. Her senses on high alert.

"Here are we meeting in this forest again" he creeped closer towards her , boots scrunching the dead leaves , the same feral look in his gray eyes that haunted her nights . "I am starting to think this is becoming our little secret place" he smirked still wincing closer towards her while she took step back after step back putting as much distance between them as she can , mind running a mile per minute to find an escape

As if reading her mind he spoke again

"Don't be scared I won't hurt you as long you collaborate"

As if to prove his point he opened his arm widely.

"You are right" she sighed in defeat finally stopping backing down.

A flash of surprise passed over Christian's face.

Why the sudden switch up?

"Chasing after Eladia's little brat can be so exhausting, I tought if I tried hard enough and found him I'd finally seal an alliance between Eralyon and Eladia but now" she looked up at hom shoulder slumping in defeat.

"All hope seems to be dead just like him" she sighed before a slow smirk pulled at the corner of her mouth.

"You really think I am going to believe you did all of this for an alliance" he chuckled shaking his head "princess princess" he tsked crossing the distance between them in two effortless strides.

"You are so naive" he whispered hands hovering above her face and to his surprise she leaned into his touch

"Not naive" she left a kiss on his palm "just as power hungry as you are"

Oh now she was talking his language.

"And you haven't seen nothing,  your majesty" she leaned in to whisper in his ear the sound sending shiver down his spine. Coating his mind with the sweetest intoxication.

"And here I thought you were just a lovesick brat" he cuppoed her cheek caressing the soft skin with his thumb "you're full of surprises,  princess"

"Princess" he leaned in to nose her pulse , inhaling her scent.

"Yes my king" she caressed his shoulder blade , palm gliding down until it reached his side.

Lost in the sensation of finally having the princess at his mercy.  After years dreaming of this moment,  finally,  finally he had her Exactly where he wanted but not for long because a sharp pain on his side brought him back to reality,  paralyzed he sank to his knees,  eyes wide open looking up at her while the syringe stayed planted on his side

"You" he croaked out , the taste of blood filling his mouth.

She planted a foot on his shoulder pushing him down.

"Stay down Christian,  the only thing you'll rule is the dirt beneath my feet" she said voice dangerously calm and serene , eyes devoid of any emotions.

He convulsed on the ground , coughing blood while his skin started to darken eyes rolling to the back of his head.

"Do not worry,  the kingdom will hardly misses you, I just hope you have the most peaceful descend on hell" She turned her heels , leaving him laying on the ground writhing in pain with his unfulfilled dreams and wishes , like an unfinished canvas.

After leaving Christian for dead in the forest she hopped on her horse following the white owl who guided her toward Zayne.

She looked serene on the outside,  eyes fixed on the path in front of her but deep down she was shaking,   mind reeling as the impact of her actions finally sank in . She took a life , no matter how evil Christian was he was an human , a living being and she took his life  she was a murderer , a murderer.

"We almost there Princess" the owl's voice snapped her out of her morbid thoughts,  horse coming to a stop before she hopped off it , trembly legs running on the Snowy ground.

She was exhausted both physically and mentally,  legs almost giving out , head spinning , heart racing but she couldn't stop, not now , not when she was that close , not after all those sacrifices,  she had to find him.  She promised so.

"No matter what happens I will always find you" she intertwined her pinky with his offering him a toothed smile

"Always?" the little boy squeezed her pinky wiping  the remnants of his tears

"Always" she nodded eagerly leaning in to kiss his tear away.

"I'll always find you my prince" she hugged him.

"My prince" she murmured breath coming in short condensed puffs , vision blurring.

A loud crash made the fairies's head snap back toward the entrance of the sanctuary.

They haven't left Zayne's side since he was cursed by the King , waiting , hoping he'd woke up.

"You" Sonia surged towards the intruder tigging harshly at her hair but the poor girl didn't have any energy to fight back,  sinking to her knees at the sight of Zayne laying among the white colored flowers,  looking pale and lifeless.

"I am too late" she whispered tears streaming down her face.

The fairies a stood frozen and dumbfounded.

She was crying.

"His love is here" Rose murmured pink eyes fixed on the princess who crawled her way toward where Zayne was resting.

"What If it's that evil Queen" Sonia exclaimed still wary but no longer attacking her

"No" Sapphire murmured "her heart is not as evil as Onyx"

"I am so sorry" she sobbed , bouce broken, limp body resting at his side " sorry for not keeping my promise" she murmured against his hand , it was so cold but nothing was colder than the sorrows engulfing her , torturing her already battered heart. "Sorry for not finding you earlier"

The fairies all hand their head low , watching helplessly as she poured her soul out tears coating the white fabric of Zayne shirt. Hair splayed out like an halo around her.

It was still snowing outside , the first snow of the season.

"Your highness" Rose approached her , patting her hair gently making the heartbroken princess finally look up at her.

"Do not cry" she wiped her cheeks "he wouldn't like seeing you so heartbroken"

"It doesn't matter anymore" the princess sniffled softly "he's gone"

"Not quite" the pink haired fairy retorted

"you can still bring him back" Sapphire spoke up approaching them as well.

"With a true love kiss" Sonia trailed eyes fixed on the ground.

The Princess's eyes widened,  a new found flick of hope glimmering in her earlier dull eyes.

"A kiss?" She croaked out, voice hoarse from her sobs

"A kiss" the fairies nodded looking between Zayne still trapped in his dream and her.

Her eye flickered to Zayne as well , inhaling deeply. She moisten her dry lips bracing herself to kiss her childhood friend , her long last love. The man she sacrificed so much for but a fluttery voice interrupted her.

"Wait you cant just kiss hil withe day lips" Sonia interjected making Hydrangea groan

"Sonia now it's not the time" but  she wasn't listening already making her wat towards the strawberry plant then come back with a fresh and red strawberry.

"Here" she placed the fruit in the girl's hand who tilted her head curiously at her.

"For your lips" Sonia instructed.

"Oh" a flash of realization washed over her features before she hastily applied the red berry on her dried up lips.

Smacking them together to smear the pigment.  She took another deep breath.

"Ready now" she murmured more to herself than anyone.

She leaned down,  eyes darting between Zayne's closed eyes and startly parted lips.

Just do it just do it.

All the fairies hold their breath Sonia burying her face in Hydrangea's flower to not see her beloved being kissed by a woman.

When the Princess's lips finally pressed against Zayne's she felt small tingles down her spine. Her heart speeding up  but as he stayed still unconscious she untangled herself from him , sitting up to gaze at his peaceful face.

It didn't work

She looked over the fairies who were as lost as her.

Losing hope she sank against him , eyes filling with tears that trickled on his skin.

"Strawberry" an hoarse voice croaked out "I thought you hated them"

She quickly sat up, eyes widening in disbelief.

"You" she bursted in sobs , smacking his chest making him let out a small grunt "you're awake" she wrapped her arms around his neck , holding as physically close as possible.

Zayne caressed her back softly  , letting her cry against his chest.

"Dont cry" he murmured chin resting on top of her head.

"You stubborn little" she smacked him again still sobbing. "If only you listened to me and didn't participate to that damn hunt" she sniffled finally untangling herself from his form to glare at him.

"Well at last, I got my reward" he caressed her cheeks softly wiping her tears.

"On the first snowfall" he looked up at the Snowy sky through the glass above their head

"You know what that means?" He looked back at her cupping her cheek to bring her closer to him "we'll now last forever" he whispered against her lips before capturing them in a passionate kiss pouring all those years  of  longing  and  unconditional love in a single kiss.

"I love you my Queen" he murmured between kisses refusing to part enen for a second , afraid she might slip through his finger "and yes I wish to marry you" he rested his forehead against hers thumbs stroking her cheeks.

She was too stunned to speak , overwhelmed by too many emotions to process them properly

Her hands found their way to his hair caressing the soft  strands while she planted a kiss on his mouth another and another puncturing each of them with a small o love you. They were both lost   in their own words

While the fairies were celebrating ,dancing around them while causing small snowflakes raining upon of them .

"So how does it feels to see your dear crush having his happily ever after ?" Htdrangea teased Sonia who seemed to be the happiest of them all.

"It feels good I feel happy just by seeing him happy" she chuckled making Hydrangea's eyebrows furrow

Why isn't she jealous?

"I am still not forgiving you for not listening to me though" the princess murmured against his lips hands caressing the hair at his nape

"Its alright" he hummed still holding her close against his chest " I have a whole lifetime to make up for it." He placed a tender kiss on her forehead.

And this how hidden in secluded sanctuary in the deep forest , under the first snowfall they sealed their fate , after facing the hardest of the challenges , they finally got their happily ever after.

"And what happened to the Evil Queen and the owl king ?" Te little girl asked , brown eyebrows furrowed in confusion

"The evil Queen had to pay the price for borrowing the power of her mirror , some legends said she got trapped in that said mirror while her son rotted in the deep forest." Zayne replied adjusting her in her bed , tucking the little girl nicely under the covers

"Did the princess and the prince get married and the king ? Did he turn back into an human?" She fired question after question

"Yes , yes he did and the princess and the prince indeed got married and had a lovely daughter together" he said before leaving a kiss on her forehead

"Now go to sleep my little snowflake" he patted her head softly.

She hummed in response sinking into the plush mattress

"Goodnight Daddy" she murmured before letting out a yawn

"Goodnight my angel"  he smiled softly before carefully getting out of her room

"Is her majesty finally asleep?" A voice rang out behind him

"Finaly yes" he murmured turning around to face his lovely wife.

"Well now I guess it's my time to have the King's attention" she said before wrapping her arms around his neck

"Hmm" he braced his hand beneath her thighs lifting her effortlessly "I am all yours , my Queen" he murmured against her lips

"Ever since you kissed me on the first snowfall or even sooner" he added carrying her towards their shared bedroom.

"Careful if you keep saying things like that it will make it hard for me to stay quiet" she grinned cheekily , caressing the hair at his nape.

"Better keep it down sweetheart, we don't want to wake up our little angel do we ?" He teased closing the door behind him with his foot.

-----------------------------------

A/N pt2 : if you read it all the way there Well thank you for staying with us , this is the first Fic of the Fairytale series so stay tuned for the other fics (Sylus is next with The beauty and the beast )

Taglist: @jinwoosbabyboo @sunsethw4 @yourlocalcatscammer @mangooes @chibichibi-mia @zayneiezaynezayne

[sunnie-angel]

Singing in the Rain

jason todd x f!reader

summary: you get caught in the rain after a date, and well, there's really only so much you can do to entertain yourselves until it stops pouring

tags: kissing, fingering, fluff

rating explicit (mdni) | wc: 1.6k

a/n: inspired by an ask from @orchidsangel. ro this prompt crawled inside my brain and would not let me know peace until i had written it

The restaurant Jason chose for your date night was excellent, as always. Good drinks, better food, and even better, close enough to Jason’s apartment to walk to. It had been a beautiful summer’s afternoon, and the two of you had decided to walk to dinner, anticipating a walk back in the cool night air, hands interlaced and bellies full. 

“You know, this might just be my new favourite restaurant. Going to have to come down to this part of the city more often.” you sigh, satisfied. 

“Oh?” and a cocked eyebrow shouldn’t look so adorable on a man of his size but it does. “Are you saying that a good restaurant is your only draw to this side of town?”

“Well,” you pretend to think it over, “there might just be this cute guy I know that lives only a few blocks away. Maybe I’ll have to give him a visit too. Only after I’ve eaten myself silly of course.” 

“Yeah? Well I’ll just have to make sure the dessert I serve is worth your while.” He’s fully waggling his eyebrows, such an exaggerated leer on his face that you swat at his shoulder to try and get him to stop, but he just dances out of the way. He makes the most ridiculous faces, your Jason, when he’s trying to get you to laugh, and it works too. 

You’re almost bent in half from the force of your giggles, Jason coming to a stop in the pool of light thrown by the streetlamp to watch you dissolve. The giggles pass eventually, but the smile never leaves your face. Loosening your arms from where they’d been clutching around your middle, you start to straighten up, drawn into Jason’s orbit. The look on his face has transformed into something soft and real, eyes bright and lips parted a hair. His lock of white hair has fallen into his eyes, but he’s so transfixed by you in your floaty dinner dress that he doesn’t seem to notice. He’s got his arms wrapped around your back, drawing you close, head turned up to his like a flower follows the sun. If this were a movie, this is the part where he’d kiss you senseless under the stars and street light. 

What actually happens is the skies open up, buckets of water raining down on you in seconds. You give out a little shriek, surprised at the sudden cold interruption to your romantic evening. The two of you look up at the sky, as if your attention would change anything about the situation. Jason looks back down at you, mischievous grin catching your eye before his lips are on yours, warm and soft and slick with rain. He draws back far to soon, has you chasing after his lips for more. 

“C’mon!” he yells, barely audible over the sound of the rain. “I think there’s a phone booth up ahead, we can wait out the worst of it there.” He grabs your hand and turns, careful not to run too fast to risk you tripping in your heels on the wet pavement. 

The phone box is there, exactly where Jason said it was. It’s a tight fight. Jason’s a large man and the phone booth was only meant to hold one after all. You’re jammed into the corner, between the phone set and the side wall, Jason looming over you. His body swallows you up; if anyone were looking in from the outside, they wouldn’t be able to see you at all. He notices his hair dripping water into your face, slicks it back with one hand and leaning his elbow on top of the phone box, managing to take up even more space with that one movement. 

“So Mr. Todd, do you corner girls in phone booths often?” the line’s only marginally better than ‘do you come here often’, but your goal here isn’t to be a wordsmith, it’s to tease him. And it works wonderfully. 

“Only if they’re as pretty as you.” He leans down, presses a kiss to your forehead. “Only if they’re as clever as you.” A kiss, barely there, to the tip of your nose. “Only if they’re as maddening as you.” said, hovering right over your mouth. 

You shiver, whether from the rain or his words or his proximity, you couldn’t say. All you know is that you need him closer. Finally, after what seems like two lifetimes, does he give you what you want. He kisses you, softly. Nips at the swell of your bottom lip before licking into the seam of your mouth. His hand comes up to cradle your jaw, keep you exactly where he wants you to be. Against the coolness of your rain chilled skin, his touch is like fire. You press your thighs together, overwhelmed with need but happy to carry on like this. The two of you get lost in the rhythm of lips and tongue, sweet and heady but tinged with desperation like you’ll never get this chance again. You shiver again, and Jason pulls back with concern, worried the rain has done you worse than expected. 

“Doin’ alright darlin’?”

The chill from the rain has gone from your cheeks, chased away by the flush in them. Your pupils are blown wide, eyes glassy and dark for the man in front of you. Your chest is heaving, breath stolen away from you by all of those kisses. His hand goes to your side to steady you, brushing the side of your breast in the tight quarters. Jason doesn’t miss the way that glancing touch makes your body go taught, legs pressing even tighter together. He doesn’t miss the way that your sodden wrap dress clings to your body, nipples visible even through the built in bra. The rain is still drumming away, sound and sight isolating the two of you in your own little universe inside the phone booth. 

“Or is there something I can help you out with?” his hand moves back up from your waist, cups your breast with a warmth you can feel even through the wet fabric. You nod, eagerly, and his thumb is brushing over your pebbled nipple with broad strokes. He kisses you, a distraction while his other hand starts playing with your neglected breast. If your panties weren’t already wet from the rain, they’d be soaked now. Jasons’ large hands feel so so good, cupping and teasing and cradling you, but you need more. 

Pulling back for a second, you grab at one of his wrists. Trail his hand along your body, enjoy the anticipation and trail of blooming heat as his large palm settles between your legs to cup you. 

“Need more. Please?” you asked through dewy lashes. 

He inhales, sharply. “Okay, but you tell me to stop if you don’t like something, got it?” You kiss him in response. Jason promptly shoves his hand down the front of your panties, a little shocked by just how wet you are already. 

“This all for me darlin’?” he grins, suddenly predatory. “Good.” And there’s a finger, thick and calloused and impossible hot sliding into you. It’s only one finger but the stretch is perfect, thicker and more satisfying than your own fingers, reaching so much deeper. 

There’s a moment’s pause as you clench down at the sudden fullness, then the finger starts to thrust, curling inwards on every forward motion. Jason’s kissing at your jaw but you can barely concentrate over how good he feels inside of you. He’s got his thumb on your clit, alternating firm circles with light taps and its driving you crazy. You’re so wet now, you can just hear faint sopping sounds every time he drives his hand into you over the thrum of the rain. 

A second finger prods at your entrance to test how ready you are, just as burning hot as the first one. It slides in with almost no resistance, pulling high breathy moans from you as he speeds up. He’s so thick, his two fingers splitting you open almost obscenely. On every thrust they curl into the soft spongy part of your walls that has you shuddering, pleasure sparking through you. The pressure on your clit never lets up, only varies, and the hand on your breast keeps kneading and teasing at your nipple. Your head falls back with a thunk, hitting the corner of the phone booth. There’s a high pitched whining sound that you vaguely recognize as coming from you, but you couldn’t stop it if you’d had the power to string together the thought to do so. 

Jason is relentless, thrusting and grinding his hand into you, encouraging you to ride his fingers, driving your pleasure onward. The pressure in your belly is growing, muscles twitching and tightening. You scrabble to hold onto anything, knocking the phone off its hook to dangle on its cord, pleasure twisting and tightening where Jason keeps fucking into you. 

When you come, it’s to ringing ears and legs unable to hold your weight up. Jason works a knee between your thighs and gets your hips to grinding against him to ride out the spasms of your orgasm. He pulls his hand out of your panties and waits until your soul has finally returned to your body before making eye contact and licking every last drop of you from his fingers. You shiver and twitch at the sight of his tongue curling around his knuckles to taste every sticky trace of you, grind your poor oversensitive clit into his thigh over and over. 

Jason helps you to unsure feet, wobbling like a newborn doe in your high heels. He pulls your panties up into place and helps you right your dress. He’s just finished retying the bow for you when the sounds of the rain peter off. He glances out the glass door as you smooth your hands down the wet fabric of your skirt one more time. 

“Rain’s letting up. Why don’t we run back to my place and have that dessert?” His grin is positively wolfish.

[ruewrote]

𝑛𝑜𝑡 𝑠𝑜 𝑠𝑒𝑐𝑟𝑒𝑡 𝑠𝑒𝑐𝑟𝑒𝑡𝑠.

PAIRING: josh washington x fem!reader WARNINGS: teasing, no use of y/n GENRE: bestfriends to lovers, fluff SONG INSPIRATION: location by khalid WORD COUNT: 2.5k REQUESTED: yes

navigation | ask | josh washington masterlist

the snow crunched beneath your boots as you walked up the path toward the washington lodge, a cozy warmth settling in your chest despite the chill in the mountain air. it was the annual winter getaway, the weekend all of you had looked forward to for months. mike, emily, matt, jess, sam, beth, hannah, josh… and you.

you were all gathering at the washingtons’ family lodge again, tucked away in the mountains and far from the bustle of everyday life. it was supposed to be a few days of skiing, relaxing, and rekindling old friendships.

but this year, you had more than just a weekend of fun ahead of you. you had a secret.

a secret that wore a mischievous smile, cracked endless jokes. josh washington, the boy you had grown up with, the one who had always been the most unserious out of the group, always at the center of everything, had somehow, unexpectedly, become more than just a friend to you.

it started over the summer. the two of you had stayed behind after one of his many house parties, helping him clean up the aftermath of yet another wild night. everyone had gone home, the house had grown quiet, except for the low hum of music still playing in the background.

you had shared a drink on his back porch, watching the stars while talking about nothing and everything. something had very obviously changed between the two of you that night. the way he had looked at you, the way your laughter had slowed into something softer, more intimate. by the end of the evening, the two of you had shared a kiss that had left your head spinning.

that was months ago, and since then, you and josh had been sneaking around, keeping whatever this was under wraps. it had been fun, the secrecy giving everything an added thrill. stolen glances, secret texts, hurried kisses when no one was looking. but now, with everyone gathering at the lodge for a weekend of fun, things were bound to get complicated.

you hadn’t told anyone yet. not sam, not beth or hannah, none of the people who knew both of you inside and out. it wasn’t that you didn’t trust them, or that you didn’t want them to know. you just… didn’t know how to tell them.

what would they think? and what was this thing with josh, really? it wasn’t like the two of you had talked about being official. it was a whirlwind, exciting and new, but it wasn’t defined. at least not yet.

the snow already beginning to fall lightly around you, your mind drifted to josh. the thought of spending it together, sneaking off for moments alone in the middle of all the chaos, excited you but it also made you nervous. how long could the two of you keep this up before someone noticed?

the lodge came into view, the wooden structure stood tall and inviting, smoke curling from the chimney, the lights already glowing in the windows. a small smile spread across your lips as you saw sam waving to you from the front porch, bundled up in her bright colored beanie and jacket. 

“hey!” she called out, her breath clouding in the cold air as you made your way up the steps. “i was starting to think that you’d gotten lost in the snow or something. it’s freezing!”

“wouldn’t miss this for the world,” you replied, pulling her into a quick hug. you took a moment to glance around, “is everyone already here?”

“yeah,” sam said, grinning. “inside, warming up with some hot cocoa. josh is trying to convince mike to try one of his weird marshmallow experiments again.”

you couldn’t help but laugh. of course josh would already be up to something. “sounds about right,” you said, trying to keep your tone light even though you were getting flustered just at the mention of his name.

as the two of you walked inside, the familiar warmth of the lodge washed over you. the smell of cinnamon and the crackling of the fireplace filled the air. voices and laughter echoed from the living room, and you smiled as you saw the group sprawled out across the couches. josh was in the middle of it all, perched on the edge of the coffee table, arguing with mike about the “proper” way to toast marshmallows.

he caught your eye as you stepped in, and for a split second, his face softened in a way that made you melt a little. it was subtle, but you saw it, his eyes lingering on you just a little longer than necessary, the corner of his mouth twitching into a smile he tried to hide. you gave him a small, knowing smile in return, but quickly looked away before anyone could notice.

“finally!” josh said loudly, standing up and making his way toward you. “i thought you’d bailed on us. couldn’t handle the cold?”

you rolled your eyes, trying to play it cool. “please, i grew up here too, remember? i can handle a little snow.”

“yeah, sure you can,” he teased, his eyes twinkling as he bumped your shoulder lightly. it was such a small gesture, one that no one else would think twice about, but you hadn’t realised how much you’d been missing his slight touches, even if it had only been a week.

the rest of the group greeted you with their usual warmth. beth pulling you into a tight hug, jess chirping on about how she couldn’t wait for the campfires to begin, emily making some comment about how you were late. everything felt familiar and comfortable, except for the subtle tension that hummed between you and josh. you were hyper aware of every glance, every fleeting touch, every moment you were near him, wondering if anyone else could pick up on it.

“alright, let’s get this party started!” mike called out, standing up with a grin. “i say we hit the hot tub before the snow really starts coming down.”

the group started to disperse, everyone heading upstairs to change, and you slipped into the hallway, trying to sneak off to your room before anyone could stop you. but just as you rounded the corner, you felt a hand wrap gently around your wrist, tugging you towards them.

your breath catching as you found josh standing behind you, his expression teasing but his voice low. “you trying to avoid me already?”

you glanced around to make sure no one was nearby before giving him a playful shove. “i’m not avoiding you,” you whispered back, though the smile on your face gave you away. “i’m just trying to keep a low profile. you know… not let everyone figure us out.”

josh raised an eyebrow, a grin tugging at the corner of his mouth. “and here i thought you liked the whole sneaking around thing. adds a little excitement, don’t you think?”

you rolled your eyes but couldn’t suppress the smile that broke through. “maybe,” you admitted, getting a little giddy when he looked at you like that.

“well, i don’t know how long we can keep this up,” he said, his voice dropping even lower as he took a step closer. “it’s getting harder and harder to keep my hands off you, you know.”

you felt heat creep up your neck, and you had to force yourself not to look down the hall to make sure no one was watching. instead, you met his gaze and smirked. “well, you’re just going to have to try, aren’t you?”

he grinned, leaning in just enough that you could feel his breath on your skin. “mm…we’ll see how long that lasts,” he murmured before pulling away, leaving you with your heart pounding in your chest as he disappeared back into the living room.

you stood there for a moment, catching your breath and trying to compose yourself. it was getting harder to act normal around him, especially now that you were surrounded by your friends. you weren’t ready for them to know yet. you didn’t even know what this was yet. this thing between you and josh. it was exciting and fun, but it was also confusing and new.

the weekend continued, and for the most part, you and josh had managed to keep things under wraps. there were close calls, of course. like the time you had slipped out of the hot tub early, claiming you were too cold, only for josh to mysteriously leave five minutes later. you had barely found a moment alone in the hallway before mike and matt came stomping up the stairs, laughing loudly about something ridiculous and forcing you both to pretend nothing had been happening. 

then there were the little touches that lingered a bit too long, the private smiles exchanged when you thought no one was looking. you weren’t sure how much longer you could keep it together. josh, of course, seemed to be having the time of his life, teasing you whenever he got the chance, whispering suggestive comments in your ear just to make you hot and bothered when no one was paying attention. he was enjoying the secrecy, the thrill of it all. 

but by the second day, you started to feel like someone might be onto you.

it was subtle, just small things, like how jess would raise an eyebrow when she caught you and josh talking a bit too close in the corner of the living room, or the way hannah seemed to linger whenever she entered a room the two of you were in together. you couldn’t help but feel like they were noticing things, and it was only a matter of time before someone said something.

then the slip up happened…

it was late, after dinner, and most of the group had retreated to their rooms or were hanging out in the living room playing games. you and josh had slipped away, managing to steal a moment alone in the back hallway near the kitchen. you had been talking, laughing quietly about something that had happened earlier when josh had suddenly leaned in and kissed you, quick, soft.

you didn’t hear the footsteps until it was too late.

beth’s voice cut through the quiet like a knife. “uh… am i interrupting something?”

your heart dropped into your stomach as you and josh sprang apart, turning to see beth standing in the hallway, her arms crossed and an amused look on her face.

you opened your mouth to say something, anything, but josh beat you to it, running a hand through his hair and laughing in that easy, carefree way he always did when he was caught off guard.

“well, uh, this is awkward,” he said, shooting you a quick glance before turning back to his sister. “beth, hey, what’s up?”

beth raised an eyebrow, her lips twitching into a smirk. “what’s up? really? i think i should be asking you two that.”

you felt your face heat up, your mind searching for an explanation, but josh just shrugged, clearly not as rattled as you were. “i mean, it’s not what it looks like.”

beth laughed. “oh, come on, josh. don’t even try to play that card.”

josh grinned, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. “alright, fine. you caught us. but, you know, could you maybe… not say anything? for now, at least?”

beth gave him a look, her expression softening a bit. “you know i won’t tell anyone. but you’re going to have a hard time keeping this a secret for long. especially with the way you two keep sneaking around.”

josh winked at her. “that’s half the fun, right?”

“ugh gross!”

beth nodded, giving you both a small smile before turning to leave. “alright. but seriously, josh, be smart about this.”

as she disappeared down the hall, you let out a breath you hadn’t realised you were holding. josh turned to you, his expression a mix of amusement and something more serious.

“well,” he said, leaning against the wall with a lopsided grin. “that could’ve gone worse.”

you laughed nervously, your heart still racing. “yeah, could’ve gone better too.”

josh’s grin softened, and he stepped closer, brushing a strand of hair from your face. “don’t worry. we’ll figure this out, okay?”

you nodded, feeling a little more at ease. “yeah. we will.”

it didn’t take long for beth’s discovery to spread. it wasn’t that she told anyone, but secrets like yours had a way of coming out, especially when the whole group was crammed together for a prolonged amount of time. by the time the third day rolled around, there was a noticeable shift in the air. people were starting to know, little comments from mike, knowing smiles from sam, and more than one snarky comment from emily.

but the final straw came that evening.

the group was gathered around the fire, playing a round of truth or dare. it was a harmless enough game, until it wasn’t. 

it started with silly dares, like mike having to shotgun a beer in one go, or jess being dared to dive into the snow in just her underwear. but when it was sam’s turn to ask you, she gave you a look that had you nervous.

“alright,” sam said, leaning back in her chair, her eyes twinkling with mischief. “truth or dare?”

you hesitated for a second, knowing that whatever you chose, you were in for it. “truth.”

sam grinned. “okay… is there something going on between you and josh?”

the room went silent.

your blood ran cold, and you could feel every single pair of eyes on you. josh, who was sitting across from you, stiffened slightly but didn’t say anything. his eyes met yours for a split second before flicking away.

you swallowed hard, trying to think of a way out, but there was no escaping this. everyone was waiting, and you could practically feel the anticipation hanging in the air.

finally, you sighed, feeling your face flush with heat. “okay, fine,” you said, glancing at josh before looking back at the group. “you caught us..”

the room erupted into a mix of laughter, cheers, and surprised exclamations. mike nearly fell off his chair, jess clapped her hands together with excitement, and sam just grinned triumphantly.

“i knew it!” mike shouted, pointing at you and josh. “i knew something was up!”

jess leaned forward, her eyes wide with excitement. “how long has this been going on? how did we not notice?!”

you laughed, feeling both embarrassed and relieved at the same time. “a few months, actually. we’ve, uh, been trying to keep it quiet.”

“clearly,” emily said with a smirk, crossing her arms. “not that quiet though.”

josh finally spoke up, his usual easygoing grin back on his face. “what can i say? we’re just really good at sneaking around.”

sam laughed, shaking her head. “well, the cat’s out of the bag now.”

you couldn’t help but smile as the group continued to tease and ask questions, the initial tension fading as the atmosphere became lighter and more playful. it was a relief, in a way, to have the secret out in the open. no more sneaking around, no more pretending. 

just you and josh, together, in front of the people who mattered to you most.

comments and reblogs are appreciated

[solecize]

  ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ  𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐅𝐀𝐑𝐌𝐇𝐎𝐔𝐒𝐄 | 𝐣𝐮𝐧𝐠𝐤𝐨𝐨𝐤 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘. every summer on your grandpa's farm was real-life magic to your younger self, who left a piece of her heart in amber valley when the years went on and the town became nothing but a faint childhood memory. soon enough, you become rocked by his death and realize the dead end in your bustling city world. this leads to you making an abrupt decision.

despite knowing nothing but designer purses and the corporate ladder, you uproot your entire life to take over your grandfather's old farm in the town you were desperately trying to remember - alongside a familiar face from your youth that permanently finds his way into your heart. 𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆. jungkook x reader 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒. swearing 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓. 5k 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐒.  inspired heavily by stardew valley, friends to lovers, childhood friends, small town alternate universe, slice of life, grief, growing up.

part one: the storm, the envelope and the granddaughter ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ   ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ   ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ next. masterlist

i. the storm

  for the first time in a long time, your eyes flutter open to the golden curtains of the sun and not the blaring noise of a royalty-free iphone alarm. the rays are harsh and welcoming all at once, as you blink away the stinging sensation and adjust to the muddy path ahead. there was no mistake about it, the town withstood an unforgiving storm last night. however, mud coating the wheels of your bus seemed to be the only indication, as you became distracted with the kiss of summer from the skies above and the clear cerulean painted across cotton candy clouds. 

  memories of amber valley became bygone over the years, as memories always do. but, amber valley seemed to be a long lost chase you haven’t won in years and the older you became, the town disappeared entirely. it was like the smell of your favourite scented markers and the feeling rumbling at the pit of your stomach on the first day of school - nothing but faint ideas from your childhood. 

  “we’re not going to visit grandpa this summer?”

  at age twelve, you couldn’t fathom missing out on the midsummer festival or being away from your horse, marshmallow. for that age, absolutely everything felt like the end of the world, whether it was missing an episode of your favourite show or not getting an invite to a classmate’s sleepover. it was a little different for you, though, as you looked at your dad’s dull eyes. they’d been dull since the divorce went through that february. they never shone since and that’s how you knew things weren’t going to be the same.

  he shook his head at you, but never met your eyes. “no, i’m sorry. he’s coming up for to the city at the end of july, though - “ it would be later in life, precisely at age 25 and months removed from your grandfather’s funeral, when you would learn that he only began coming up to the city to regularly see a hepatologist, “ - so you can see him on your birthday.”

  you did, in fact, see grandpa for your birthday and for the rest of the years to come. he laughed with his whole body and his smile never failed to reach his eyes when he gave you updates on the farm and amber valley. grandpa did his best, but time passing came with you losing your bright eyes whenever he spoke fondly of his town. it was inevitable, when the big city enveloped your teenage self and you became more concerned with interests that come with the turn of youth - clothes, parties and boys.

  now, there was absolutely nothing wrong with any of those ideas. you stood by this at heart, embracing femininity and defending it alongside your love for science and life. you grew up and began wearing high heels to dates, to university lectures and finally, to your 9-5 on the busiest corner of your city’s financial district. you had long outgrown your riding boots, likely tucked away at the back of your closet in your studio apartment. you began just politely smiling and nodding when your grandfather shared local amber valley gossip about individuals who were just names to you now, also tucked away at the back of your mind.

  even though you eventually grew past the age where you needed your parents’ permission to make the trek over to amber valley, past the period of time where your mother refused to speak to your father to coordinate your trip to see your grandfather, the idea of returning to the valley never crossed your mind. like summer camp, it was something you thought you didn’t need anymore and preferred spending your school-less months with your friends in your hometown, working away at your first part-time job and getting your first ever drivers’ license. a seventeen year old city girl wouldn’t want to waste her summer at her grandfather’s old farm.

  “mrs. oh’s husband just left the valley for his deployment overseas. may god watch over that family.” it was one of the last times you saw grandpa, late on christmas eve when everyone else went to bed. your mom, her new husband and your little sister had bade their goodnight’s by 10pm and left the two of you sipping honey lemon tea by the fireplace. 

  your mom’s new husband made a lot of money. that was one of the first things you noticed about him and it was so different from the two bedroom inner city apartment you were raised in. it was certainly different from your grandpa’s farmhouse, where the television only got three channels and all of the windows never fully opened because they would fall apart entirely if you pulled too far. you and your grandpa mused these thoughts on their white leather couch, when the conversation slowly moved back to how the old farm was going.

  you tried to sound interested. “oh really?” the reality was you couldn’t remember if the oh family was the one that ran the general store or the one couple who seemed to be constantly fighting, on the verge of divorce.

  grandpa grunted in response. “mhm. thankfully, they have jungkook helping out around the store. ah, the wasted potential with that boy, but such a kind heart.”

  “jungkook..?”

  “oh, you remember him! the two of you would always bike by the beach,” he said. “i’ll never forget, you two would always come back and show me the seashells you collected that day. always made a competition out of everything.”

  he chuckled and you joined in, hiding the despondence for being unable to recall. grandpa didn’t seem to notice, though, continuing to discuss amber valley. cranberries and pumpkins were the strongest crops of the fall, mayor kim was re-elected for a third time and something about the town soon getting their first chain convenience store since amber valley’s founding. then, grandpa’s face lost his smile and a serious expression formed on his ageing features. he asked you about your job and how life was for you.

  by now, you’re 22 and working an entry-level position with nothing but a bachelor’s in your pocket and a hunger to climb the corporate ranks. like any fresh college graduate, there was no meaning to life if it weren’t for paying overpriced rent, mimosa sundays, dating apps, and maybe remembering to go to the gym every now and then. the life you lived was loud from city traffic and heavy from looming student debt. 

  “my job is..okay. i’m just starting out and i’m really just trying to do my best,” you replied.

  grandpa, still with a serious look, placed a gentle hand on your shoulder. “it gets stressful, doesn’t it?”

  you opened your mouth to respond again, but failed to find your voice this time. your stress was found in a growing caffeine addiction and getting too tired to give your parents a call on the weekends. adulthood was everything you expected and nothing you expected. you secured a job that you dedicated four years of studies to and just like that, was pushed into a world of hustle and bustle and nothing in between. once this realization settled, you tried to hide it by cracking a faint smile. grandpa saw through it, though - he always did. 

  “well, darling, if it ever does get too stressful..” you became confused when grandpa reached into his back pocket and pulled out a sealed envelope. he handed it to you and you turned it over, finding no writing other than your name in your grandfather’s decorative penmanship.

  you asked, “what is this, grandpa?”

  he finally smiled again, but shook his head. “a gift. it’s yours for when you find that you need a break from the challenges of life.”

  grandpa only gave gifts from the heart. only, this time, you wouldn’t know that he was giving you his entire heart and soul. you had taken this envelope and slid it in the drawer of your desk at home, where you tirelessly worked after hours, even after returning from the office. it was hidden away, but always poked your curiosity at the back of your mind. however, you restrained from opening it, even when it eventually became one of the last things you had from grandpa. 

  ii. the envelope

the only time you took the pristine envelope out of your desk was on the day of his funeral. 

  it was no surprise that grandpa wanted to be buried in amber valley, his home for over fifty years and his birthplace. it was once your heart’s home, too, once upon a time when you were a child skipping rocks by the town river and rode your horse through mustard-hued sunflower fields. for that, you were nervous to return and confront the realities of your coming of age in the face of a town that only lived in your memories, sickeningly reminding you of the years that have gone past.

  wedged between your mother and father who had only began speaking to one another as of three years ago, you stared blankly at the onyx coffin that, in about 20 seconds, was gone from your sight and lowered into the ground. it happened all too quick. you clenched your arm tighter, squeezing the envelope tucked underneath and protecting it from the rain. your very last summer in the valley was marked by constant rain and wind and once again, you greet the town amidst storms.

  the drive was quick, having gone directly to service after the three hour drive from the city. you couldn’t make much of the town through the gloom and suddenly, the valley was so much colder than you remember. like your being since your grandfather’s passing, it lost its colour. it was unwelcoming and felt like a punishment for your neglect over the years. amber valley was unforgiving as much as it was perfection. 

  you couldn’t make out much of the attendees through the gloom, either. many of them appeared absolutely devastated, sobbing and cold-faced at the goodbye of a beloved neighbour. your grandfather was always well-liked amongst the townspeople, helping out his friends with mundane tasks whenever he had free time away from the farm and shared his warm personality at community events. this was affirmed through the stories that were shared about him at the service, recognizable for his distinct good heart, but seemed so far away for you, having detached yourself from amber valley.

  “oh, an unfamiliar face! what’s your name, dear?” a man around your father’s age with salt and pepper hair was handing out hor d'oeuvres at the post-service gathering in the church basement. he seemed to be the most upbeat one in the room - though, it wasn’t saying much, considering the occasion.

  you told him your name, while looking around for either one of your parents. being in a room of strangers wasn’t your favourite activity, especially following a funeral. the last thing you wanted to do was socialize, feeling like you weren’t even in your own body all day. while you were saddened and to an extent, numb, you knew your grandfather’s passing was coming up. his illness was going to catch up to him and you spent months mentally preparing yourself for the day you would have to say goodbye. despite not being surprised, your grief was accompanied by the painful nostalgia of the town that raised you in the summertime.

  the man looked at you, appearing to search your face for something. “you’re the old man’s granddaughter? bunny?”

  the nickname almost made you flinch, having not heard it in so long that you were surprised you recognized it. you began searching the man’s face, too, also looking for some signs of familiarity. for so many years of your childhood, you were almost exclusively called this nickname by adults and friends alike.

  there wasn’t room for a response when the man pulled over another individual by his sleeve, merely attempting to walk by in peace. this one was a man closer to your age and you were too distracted by the glisten of his facial piercings to scan for recognition. the second thing you noticed the adornment of tattoos peeked from below his sleeve and trailed onto his hands. the third and final thing you noticed about him was how gentle his hands were. this was realized because the sight of this man made you drop whatever was in your own hands in surprise.

  the only thing you were holding was your grandfather’s envelope, no longer pristine and stained with a few raindrops. you noticed that you had been clutching onto this keepsake the entire service. you bent down to reach for it, when he also attempted to make the save for you. your hands brushed and you looked up at his eyes, suddenly taken away by confusion.

  “jungkook, you remember bunny?” 

  you forgot the older man was in your presence, as he was the one who pulled jungkook over in the first place. jungkook. this was the little boy you spent hours running around with all those years ago. although you seemed to forget when your grandfather had last brought him up, those moments began to rain down on you upon taking sight of him for the first time in years. you had barely looked, but it hit you.

  jungkook handed the envelope over to you and you cleared your throat, standing up properly and trying not to wobble on your favourite high heels. he also stood up and seemed to mirror your confusion, not understanding who was the person in front of him. you muttered a thank you and fixed an imaginary snag on your cardigan.

  “i just go by my first name now,” you said through a tight smile to both men, still feeling like your gut was punched in after hearing the nickname that your grandpa coined,

  “oh, of course. you’re all grown up now!” the man exclaimed. “do you remember me? mr. kim?”

  the truth was that you didn’t remember him by face, but instead remembered that your father mentioned a man of this name being the mayor. if he was the same person, mr. kim’s father was the previous town mayor, as well, and was your grandfather’s best friend before his own untimely passing. given his larger than life presence, it was same to assume that the man in front of you was the tiny valley’s politician.

  “mayor kim, of course.” you hoped you sounded convincing.

  jungkook was still standing to the side, the same confused look etched on his face. “you’re the girl that tricked me into eating mud that one time?” he blurted, as if an imaginary lightblub flashed above his head

  that took you by surprise and you almost snorted. “i didn’t trick you, you just went for it.” the quick snap back also took you by surprise, having left behind a bit of your normal self in the city before coming down to the valley for the funeral, as well as your instant recollection.

  somehow, this memory was clear as day and you could remember jungkook as a seven year old with a horrible bowl cut and missing teeth. you wore light-up sneakers and candy bracelets that day, sitting on the porch of your grandfather’s farmhouse with him and were exchanging dares to see who would give up first. maybe that was why your grandpa said you two were - 

  “ - always competitive,” jungkook said.

  although the two of you surely shared countless more memories, it was this one that stood against the test of time and it showed when it immediately hit you with a laugh. it took jungkook a second, too, but he eventually gave in and joined with his own. you hadn’t realized it until his swollen eyes became crescents in his giggles, but he seemed to be having his own trouble of a day.

  “there it is, jungkook! nice to see you finally cheer up a bit,” mayor kim encouraged and jungkook’s chuckle immediately fell back to a straight face, almost intentionally. you suspected that this was not the first time today that mayor kim was on his case.

  before mayor kim could add on, his attention gravitated towards something at the other end of the room. he sighed and set down the hor d'oeuvres, checking the time on his wrist dressed with gold. 

  “oh, i’m being called over,” he sighed and turned back to you. “it was a pleasure seeing you again, i hope to see you around town before you have to go back to the city.”

  swiftly, mayor kim weaved his way through the crowd and just like that, it was just you and jungkook.

  you took this opportunity to give jungkook an actual once over, comparing it to the faint image you had of this man from when you were children. undeniably, he was handsome, but you were more concerned with the fact that this was still the little boy you spent your summers with. he grew into his face and you didn’t realize that you accidentally said this out loud.

  jungkook looked as much taken aback as he was amused. “oh, you got jokes, huh? that’s what you learned growing up in the city?” he teased.

  “i didn’t mean it like that - “ you started, but he waved you off with a laugh.

  the conversation was a bit overwhelming, considering you were still stuck in a church basement following your grandfather’s funeral service and could not locate your parents anywhere. jungkook recognized this in your face and eased into a sympathetic smile. somehow, you felt okay enough around him to drop your tense shoulders for the first time that day.

  “i’m sorry, i should be giving my condolences. your grandpa was a loved man by everyone here.”

  looking around the room, it was clear. everyone had shared fond stories and were making toasts in his honour. you felt out of place, but more so because you felt like you should have been joining in with the attendees. instead of being a kind of extended family that once saw you grow up, these people were strangers. you weren’t sure if anyone recognized you, having tried to lay low and not draw any attention to yourself. the only times you seemed to have caught anyone’s eye was when you were sat beside your parents at the burial, but no one dared approach you then.

  “you were like a son to him, too,” you offered. it was true, given the amount of time you spent with jungkook as a child, maybe even going so far to call him your best friend at one point. 

  he let out a long breath, eyes moving to the enlarged portrait of your grandfather propped up on the wall. “that’s nice of you to say. i miss him already. i’m sure you feel the same.”

  you learned quickly that, in light of your disappearance from your grandfather’s farm over the years, jungkook was the one who began helping out and taking over what were your old chores. your grandfather was physically able, but he kept the young boy around for company and made feeding the chickens an excuse to have his presence. hearing this made your heart drop, feeling an unknown sense of regret that you didn’t know existed when it came to the farm.

  “it’s not like that!” jungkook cut in, seeing the tears well up in your eyes. “he would always talk about the two of you going on adventures in the city and how he loved spending time with you whenever he came up to visit. he knew that’s where your heart was.”

  you sniffled a bit, having already promised yourself to limit your breakdowns to two that day, and took a second to reel it in. “sorry…i don’t mean to - “ you sighed. 

  “it’s okay. it’s weird being back here, huh?” 

  it was weird. it was so damn weird that the air of amber valley stuck with you for the months following, like bubblegum in your hair and a melody on loop in your head. you couldn’t shake it. not when you were working an extra 20 hours overtime in a week, not when you became stuck in traffic everyday, and especially not when your boyfriend of three years dumped you because you “changed” so much since the start of the year.

  and, it was true. you changed a lot since your conversation with your grandfather on christmas eve, with his words echoing about the stressors of life everyday. it opened your eyes to how much you were really struggling and it wasn’t simply you who had changed, but your outlook on life. ever since you were twelve years old, everything shifted to the fastlane and years breezed by you in the blink of an eye. everything moved so fast and you never got a chance to catch your breath. one moment, you were 15, sneaking a sip of your first ever drink, and the next, you were 24 and drinking straight out of the wine bottle on a tuesday evening. you wondered how you suddenly found yourself jaded at a 9-5 black hole of a job that sucked out your energy and passions. 

  these days made you think about what truly deserved your energy and what truly were your passions. did you like your everyday routine of gluing on false lashes and slipping on pantyhose? were you happy, alone in your apartment with not even a cat to talk to? your parents had their own worlds and new lives to deal with and long stopped asking why you never call. your friends were co-workers, having no time to meet anyone new. you didn’t even have time for hobbies, given how tired you were every time you finished work and the amount of overtime you did.

  one thursday night, you arrived home from work at 10:13pm and decided you had enough. it was constraining, nearly strangling you with exhaustion everyday. you spent the entire day wondering was “it” was and when you kicked off your loafers by your doorstep, it hit you. this was what your grandfather was talking about.

  almost walking with fear of what was to come, you creeped over to your desk. after your grandpa’s funeral, his envelope no longer lived underneath manila folders in your drawer, but found a place on the surface. you kept it there, as it mocked you every time you opened up your work laptop after hours. you didn’t realize why you left it in plain sight, until this moment when you came to terms with the fact that you were reminding yourself of him.

  “if you’re reading this, you must be in dire need of change. the same thing happened to me, long ago. i’d lost sight of what mattered most in life. . . real connections with other people and nature. so i dropped everything and moved to the place where i truly belong.”

  it took you precisely two weeks to pack up your things after opening the envelope. nobody could convince you not to. your mother complained that you were wasting your degree and your father had concerns about the massive role you were about to take on all by yourself. it didn’t matter.

  two weeks later, you met amber valley and its sunlight for the first time in years, pretending that the storm ceased and the sun shone to welcome you back. 

  iii. the granddaughter

the sun faded quickly when you realized the bus dropped you off on a plain dirt road in the middle of nowhere. the movers took the rest of your belongings separately, so you were left with nothing but a duffel bag and a cell phone that couldn’t find any signal.

  “oops,” was all you could say. you didn’t think it was a crazy idea, that there would be service at the very least.

  it took you a few moments to let the situation settle in and for you to realize that you were abandoned in a place that was unfamiliar to you. was it unfamiliar? you looked around, seeing nothing but fields on fields and accepted that there was no way you could even try to remember where you were, even with the help of the maps app. you knew you made it to town, but you were certainly left at the farthest point of the borders. 

  and then, you heard it.

  it was over at least ten years since you last rode, but your ears perked up at the sound of a horse’s gallop naturally. you had to squint, but it was unmistakable.

  they were going in the other direction and they were going fast, so you had to think fast. you tried yelling and waving your arms, but quickly saw that it was useless. so, you dropped your bg and brought your hands to your mouth, releasing the loudest whistle that your vocal chords could handle.  

  the horse and its rider kept going and for a few seconds, you thought you lost hope. but, then, as you were about to pick up your bag in shame, you watched them take a wide turn back around. they were headed to you.

  you waved your arms back and forth again, affirming that you needed their attention. as they came closer, you could make out a figure of a man with chestnut brown hair peeking out underneath his cowboy hat. he wore medium wash, stained jeans and a plain white t-shirt. 

  “that was the loudest whistle i’ve ever heard,” he hollered, drawing closer to you.

  you shook your head bashfully. “didn’t even know i remembered how to do that.”

  “pretty sure the whole town heard. my name is namjoon, are you visiting someone here?”

  likely a few years older than you, you tried to recall someone named namjoon from your memories. his appearance didn’t ring a bell, so you were searching your brain for his name or if you heard it from somewhere.

  you told him your name and then squinted at him, pausing for several moments before speaking again. “are you. . .joonie?”  

his eyebrows shot up immediately, looking at you like he couldn’t understand what language you were speaking. “pardon me?”

  joonie. he was mayor kim’s eldest son, who was sent to a fancy arts camp every summer when you were younger. you only met him a few times throughout the years, as he often arrived back the same week you were due to leave your grandpa to go back to your parents, but one feature stuck in your mind always. his dimples. you thought you recognized namjoon’s polite smile and piecing it together with his name seemed to be the key. 

  “i’m pretty sure you’re mayor kim’s kid. i’m bad with faces, but you’re joonie, aren’t you?” the confidence in your voice was fuelled by the fact that no one really left amber valley. it was the kind of place where families would raise their children with the kids they grew up with themselves. 

  namjoon seemed to still be calculating your appearance in his head when you heard the faint noise of galloping once again. the two of you looked over to see another person on a horse who was looking around the field, likely looking for namjoon. the man in question brought his hand to his mouth and released a whistle similar to yours - though, you did gloat silently because yours was, in fact, louder.

  still, it was enough to get the person’s attention and they finally made eye contact with the two of you. they began approaching and you could make out that it was a man’s figure. still, even with how small of a town amber valley was, you were surprised to see who it was.

  “jungkook!”

  “namjoon, i just spent fucking 15 minutes looking for you - “

  you tried to keep your expression neutral when you saw that it was actually jungkook on the horse. he wore an all-black outfit of cargo pants and a wife beater tank that exposed his tattooed arms. it made it hard to keep your expression the same.

“oh, hey. did you come to collect something from your grandpa’s property?” jungkook suddenly ignored his previous frustration at namjoon, cleared his throat and dropped his voice by an octave, in addition to cutting his voice’s volume by a cool half. he swiftly hopped off his horse, too cleanly to be casual.

  namjoon’s confusion only doubled, darting eyes between the two of you. “sorry, have you guys met?” he didn’t miss the way that jungkook straightened his shoulders without even trying to be subtle.

  you missed it, though, having cut away your stare to double check if your phone managed to get any signal. none. sighing, you shook your head at jungkook, as he began explaining to namjoon.

  “ - we called her bunny. remember bunny?” he nudged towards you.

  namjoon looked back at you again and concern formed. “you’re the granddaughter. oh, you were at the funeral - i’m sorry about your loss. your grandpa was such a great person.”

  you put on the same tight smile every time someone mentioned him. the worst of the grief came back on some days, but you learned how to manage it day by day as time went on. jungkook watched you do so and cleared his throat.

  “the old bus stop is the worst,” he interrupted, gesturing towards the tiny sign that indicated that it was in service. “people get lost all the time when they arrive. well, we don’t really have a lot of people visiting by bus - “

  you couldn’t help but cut in. “i’m not visiting.”

  the two men gave you and your single chanel duffel bag a blank stare and wondered if the idea was so hard to believe. it was for your parents, who both thought you caught them on some sort of prank show when you told them about grandpa’s envelope. you were wearing platform mary janes and a leather skirt in the dead of the june sun, so maybe they had a reason to be confused.

  there was a moment of silence, so you decided to speak again. “yeah, i’m not visiting. um, i’ve decided to take over my grandfather’s farm. i’m moving to amber valley permanently.”

[heysarsii]

everything's coming up roses :)

not a red rose girlie but I've grown to love them now

Called in sick yesterday as I wasn't feeling well because of the inclement weather but these roses from the boyfie cheered me up.

[wanderingxiao]

Merry Christmas

Scaramouche x Reader *FLUFF*

Warnings: Smoking, and that’s probably it! No smut this time, wasn’t feeling in the mood for it and wanted something soft :3 ❤️

A/N: Merry Christmas everyone 💚 I hope you all have a wonderful day ❤️ Not proofread

Scaramouche was no fan of holidays, especially Christmas. The obnoxious sound of Christmas music howling in the wind on every street corner, every radio station blasting all the classics people seemed to love. His drives to work had become utterly silent at this point, leaving him to sit with his thoughts. The streets were bustling with reds and greens. Big signs advertising sales or delivery or whatever else companies did to swindle the people into buying more and more and more. It was disgusting really.

The only thing he found enjoyable was his time with you.

Sure, you put a tree, decorated it with Christmas ornaments, hung wreaths, put up small elf and reindeer trinkets, and baked a lot of sweets. But he enjoyed the looked on your face spending time with your family and him. A beautiful smile that could rival the sun would be graced upon your lips. Your laughter ringing through your shared home with him. It never failed to make his heart skip a beat and make him fall deeper and deeper in love with you. Even though the windows frosted over with ice, the snow packed against the asphalt, and the skies gloomy with winter weather, you always made him feel warm.

You melted the walls around his heart years ago.

“I’m going out for a smoke.” Scaramouche interjected, standing from the couch where you and your family sat before making his way to the sliding glass door to the balcony of your apartment. He didn’t care the disapproving glares from your parents, he really just needed a smoke and to get away from the music, bright lights, and Christmas movies playing on repeat. His face was met with the chill of the winter air, soon enough turning his pale nose pink in its icy touch. His slender fingers fished through his jean pockets, pulling out a half empty pack of cigarettes before slotting one between his cracked lips. Just as he was putting his pack back and going for his lighter did the glass door sound in his ears.

“Hey.” It was your voice, soft and gentle as you approached your boyfriend. Scaramouche only hummed in acknowledgment of your presence for a brief second, before finally fishing out his lighter. He held his hand around the lighter, flicking his thumb over the ignition to make a spark. After a few attempts, the spark found the gas and lit a small and weak flame. A warm red burned from the tip of the cigarette as your boyfriend took an inhale of nicotine. “You’re getting better you know.” You said smiling, coming beside him on the opposite side the wind was blowing. He exhaled a breath of smoke, his shoulders slowly slumping as he let out a small scoff.

“It’s only half a pack. Don’t get ahead of yourself.” He couldn’t help but glance over at you. That damned ugly Christmas sweater you were wearing, the fuzzy white and red hat atop your head, and the remains of cookie crumbs peppered on the edge of lips. You still made his heart do backflips. “I know. But you’re trying, for me. I want to recognize and praise you. Thank you.” You looked over at him and smiled warmly, the blank expression on his face remaining, yet you could always tell when his eyes would soften. Your hands circled around one of his arms, your breasts coming to push comfortably against him as you both looked out over the bustling festive city. “I can’t wait till this damn year is over.”

“Well, new years is a week from today. It’s almost over, and your birthday is near.” Ugh, don’t remind him. Just another festivity you insist on celebrating for him. It was unnecessary, especially considering how his background with his family. Yet you always insisted that you were thankful for his birth. In some way it was heartwarming really, but it still never failed to bring bad memories. He inhaled another drag from the cigarette, blowing out the smoke through his nose before looking away from you. He hadn’t even finished half of his cigarette before he was burning it out against the metal railing of your balcony. “B-Be careful when you do that. I don’t want the landlord finding out.”

“I got you a present.” Scaramouche mumbled, glancing back to see your expression. He had never gotten you a gift on Christmas before. Sure he bought you flowers occasionally after rare arguments or brought home chocolate on your period, but he had never actually given you a gift. “H-Huh? You did?” You asked in bewilderment. Your boyfriend was never one to show his affections through gifts or words, rather through actions. He thought the idea of giving gifts just to make someone happy was ridiculous. Everyone always preaches it’s the thought that counts, but in the end people buy each other gifts because of tradition now. “Yeah. I did.”

He turned away from you, fumbling with his pockets for a moment before handing you a small box with a ribbon on top. You took the gift cautiously, staring at it with slight anxiety. Your thoughts were racing of what it could possibly be. Through your 4 year relationship he had never gotten a gift for anyone on Christmas, it must be super special or important for him to have gotten a gift now. The tips of your fingers tingled as the cold air pricked your skin, your fingertips slowly tugging at the ribbon to reveal a small black velvet box. Was it jewelry? Your cheeks reddened at the thought of something so romantic. Replacing your fingers on top, you slowly edged the box open.

There was a ring. A diamond ring at that. Oh and of course he left the price tag on it.

Your eyes almost bulged out at the price, utterly flabbergasted at how much he’d spent on a ring. “S-Scaramouche this is-! It’s beautiful! But-!” He closed the box back before you could finish. “Let me put it on then.” He opened the box back and pulled out the ring, ripping the price tag off and tossing it off the balcony to be taken by the wind. You through your hands up in protest. “No way! T-That’s way too expensive! That’s more money than I’ve e-ever seen in my-“ Your voice died out quickly as he grabbed your left hand, carefully sliding the expensive diamond ring onto your ring finger. “Money doesn’t matter to me. It was on my mom’s credit card anyways”.

“S-Scaramouche-“

“I didn’t hear or see any objections.” He muttered, his eyes softening as he started to see tears welling in the corner of your eyes. He reached a hand to your face, being delicate to wipe your tears away with his cold fingers. “Not like I’d let you anyways.” His arm came to wrap around your waist, pulling you closer to him. You could still faintly smell the smoke on his breath, mixed with the scent of his cologne that always made you weak. Your smile hurt, your cheeks aching at how wide your grin was. Without a seconds hesitation, he pulled you the rest of the way in, his lips finding yours in a soft and innocent kiss, unlike his fiery passionate ones he typically gives you.

“I-It’s not fair! You- You’re supposed to ask!” You pull away with a laugh. Your new fiancé gives you a light scoff before pinching your reddened nose. “That’s pointless. Your answer would’ve been yes either way. Don’t act like you would’ve said no. I wouldn’t have let you.” You hugged him once more, nuzzling your face against his chest while a few happy tears escaped down your cold cheeks. “Never… I want to be with you forever.” Scaramouche looked out over the city once more, his eyes trained on the full moon that lit up the night, the stars flickering in the distance. His eyes widened as a shooting start blitzed across the sky. “Merry Christmas, Scaramouche.”

His lips twitched, slowly arching upwards as he looked back down to you against his chest.

“Merry Christmas, (Y/N).”

[theguyinthemathexamples]

Sunday meeting the Creation while (unknowingly) ascending to Aeonhood !!

A lil' something for y'all after my longlonglonglonggggggg disappearance :3

If the sinners couldn't be rid of by Their divine hand, then he shall do it himself. But his— her God pertains the notion of sparing the evil and giving them a chance to seek solace in THEIR thousand voices, or the ones of the Primaxus Deus.

Sunday wishes to see her vision one last time, to see with his own eyes if these sinners could truly turn back to the right path. He's done this before countless times before— but he wants to put this belief of hers to yet another run. Was it to reminisce on lost time, or run from his own sacred beliefs?

And yet still, he doesn't see nor hear the sounds of the battle, neither could he speak in this newfound space; all he can see was this shining path, a separating rift from the boundless luminescent seas it tore through.

He takes a cautious step forward and all of the nearby stars were already flocking towards his shoes with reverence, whispering things of the comprehensable mortal plane to the maddening knowledge of the divine. Some know of his current predicament, while some predict how his future would be another footnote in history, success or otherwise.

Time seems to slow here, atleast that was how Sunday saw it. His path was solid yet it made ripples with each step he took but, it never splashed water. He had half a mind to keep walking.

The stars do not have eyes— as if it would ever, yet he still feels as if he was being stalked, being followed by a presence. He wants to ask, yell out who it was, but his mouth was sealed shut. With no other choice does he continue walking. Faint cackles, and the sound of distorted heavenly choir whispers could be heard in the distance.

At last he sees something in the distance other than endless starry seas: a large, disembodied arm. Well, it looks that way anyways. The rest of the body looks to be shrouded in darkness.

Sunday got closer and closer to this arm when a sun suddenly rose up just ahead of his path. He can't help but feel familiar with this sun. The ones beside his feet tell him it's the one in his solar system of origin. But... he's seen and looked at countless stars upon the starry skies, how can he remember something that glowed hot and bright on the days when he was trying to keep survival closer with his sister?

The smaller beads of light beneath his legs gently pushed him towards the right direction, humming familiar tunes along the way.

Yet again, it was another long walk to his new destination. Sunday doesn't feel tired, if at all from walking all this way when he'd usually need a break by now. The stars provided decent entertainment along the way, luckily enough.

He carefully approaches this large hand, now as big as one of the walls in the Dewlight Pavilion. Memories of his death resurfaces in his mind. A small curse is stifled under his breath. No matter, he'll get rid of the concept of death in his promised dreamscape soon enough.

And just as he begins to tentatively sit on the beckoning heat of the hand, exactly as the stars excitedly encouraged him so, the space shook harshly and he falls. Sunday looks around in a panicked apprehension, which the beads of stars expressed as much if not more.

The large hand brushes along his figure in an almost comforting way, till it disappears after a few swipes. The stars dissipate as well in fear, leaving him in the neverending darkness.

He clutched his chest, almost in agony, a baffled look on his face when he tried to search for the warmth of the hand. Sunday hadn't asked them his question yet.

"So... Why does life slumber?..." He asks to the dark, not expecting answers. Machine parts clammer along his movements.

"Because... someday..."

"We will wake up from our dreams!"

And so does he, too wake up from his own slumber. And along with his shattered will, the stage beneath him crumbled and fell.

Sunday lets himself drop untowards the Golden Hour, reaching out to the world where he promised an impossible pledge to countless souls, unable to fly back where he wished due to his clipped wings.

The night is still... too short...

Arms cradle his figure and bringing it to a tight hug. This action brought him out of his stupor, embracing his sister in reflex.

He dipped his head low, imminent defeat having already been accepted. Yet again do memories flash his mind, but they were only about his 'dream.' What did it all mean?

"Brother..."

"The dream... is over."

[awkward-walking-potato]

I think Remy would like Princess and the Frog.

So how bout a Remy x Reader, where they go see it in theaters?

Under the Crescent Moon

The night sky was clear, and the air was warm with that unmistakable Southern humidity that clung to your skin like a soft embrace. You leaned back in the passenger seat of Remy’s classic Chevy truck, the windows rolled down as a warm breeze drifted in. The two of you had been planning this for weeks—heading to the drive-in to catch a late-night showing of The Princess and the Frog. It was one of those rare quiet moments where there were no missions or mutant troubles to worry about.

Remy had been surprisingly excited for this. The moment he found out that the movie was set in his hometown of New Orleans, his eyes lit up with that familiar mischievous sparkle.

“Y’know, chérie, you gonna love dis one. It’s all ‘bout my home. And trust me, dere ain’t no place like New Orleans,” he’d said with a grin when you suggested it. Now, sitting in the truck, you could feel his excitement.

The screen ahead flickered to life, casting a soft glow over the scattered cars. As the opening credits rolled and the first notes of jazzy, soulful music filled the air, you glanced over at Remy. He was leaning back, arms crossed over his chest, but his eyes were glued to the screen, a small smile playing at the corners of his lips.

Throughout the movie, Remy would lean over, whispering little bits of trivia about New Orleans into your ear. “Dat’s Jackson Square,” he’d murmur with pride, or, “Dere’s Cafe du Monde. Ain’t no better beignets in da world.” His Cajun accent was as thick as ever, tinged with nostalgia as he saw his home come to life on the big screen.

You smiled at how he seemed just as enchanted by the movie as you were. It was the kind of story that felt close to his heart—about love, about hope, about home. As the movie moved into the love story between Tiana and Naveen, and the firefly Ray sang his sweet song to his beloved star, Evangeline, you could feel Remy’s hand slide into yours. His touch was warm and grounding, and when you turned to look at him, his eyes were already on you, soft and full of something deeper than the playful flirtation he was known for.

“You know, chérie,” he said softly, his thumb tracing circles on the back of your hand, “Ray, he got it right. Sometimes, de best t’ing you can do is look up at de stars and hold on to someone you love.”

You smiled, feeling your heart flutter in your chest. “You think so?”

“Mmhm,” he nodded, his gaze shifting to the sky for a moment before settling back on you. “Ray had his Evangeline. Always chasin’ her, dreamin’ of her, even when she was far away.” His eyes flickered with a kind of tenderness that made your breath catch. “You… you’re my Evangeline, chérie.”

Your heart swelled at his words, and you couldn’t help but feel a little emotional. Remy wasn’t always one to speak from the heart like this. He loved to tease, to flirt, but when he got serious—when he dropped his guard and let you see the man behind the mask—it was overwhelming in the best way.

“I’m your Evangeline?” you whispered, your voice barely audible above the sound of the movie.

He chuckled, nodding as he tilted his head, his eyes glowing faintly in the dim light. “Oh, cher, don’t you know? I been searchin’ de skies for you all dis time.” He squeezed your hand gently, lifting it to his lips and pressing a soft kiss to your knuckles. “Ain’t nothin’ in dis world or up in de stars dat shines as bright as you do to me.”

You felt a warmth spread through you that had nothing to do with the humid Louisiana air. He always had a way with words, making you feel like the most cherished person in the world. The kind of love that Remy offered wasn’t flashy or loud—it was the quiet, unwavering kind, like a soft Southern breeze, comforting and ever-present.

As the movie came to its emotional conclusion, with Tiana and Naveen finally finding their happy ending, Remy pulled you closer, wrapping an arm around your shoulders as you leaned into him. The fireflies twinkled on the screen, and you couldn’t help but think that this moment felt like something out of a fairytale.

“Dis movie got it right,” he murmured against your hair, his voice warm and low. “It ain’t about riches or fancy t’ings. It’s about home. ‘Bout de people who make you feel like you belong.” He paused, his fingers gently running through your hair. “And you, chérie… you’re my home.”

You tilted your head up to look at him, your heart full. He was staring down at you with that look in his eyes—the one that was softer than the moonlight, more sincere than any words he could ever say.

“I love you, Remy,” you whispered, the words coming so easily, like they’d always been there, waiting to be spoken.

He smiled that lazy, affectionate smile that you loved so much. “I love you too, mon amour,” he whispered back, leaning down to brush a soft kiss against your lips. The kiss was sweet and slow, lingering in the warm night air.

When you pulled back, Remy turned his gaze toward the sky, pointing to a particularly bright star twinkling above you. “Look up dere, chérie. See dat star? Dat’s our Evangeline.”

You smiled, resting your head against his shoulder, your fingers lacing with his. “Think she’s watching over us?”

Remy chuckled softly, nodding as he gazed at the sky with a fondness that mirrored Ray’s love for his star. “Oh, she’s watchin’, alright. And she knows just how lucky I am to have found you.”

The credits rolled on the screen, but neither of you moved to leave. The night felt too perfect, too precious to end just yet. So, you stayed there, wrapped in each other’s arms, under the crescent moon and the twinkling stars, feeling like the luckiest people in the world.

And as the fireflies danced in the distance, Remy leaned down and kissed you once more, his lips lingering on yours as if he never wanted to let go. Because for him, there was no place more magical than being right here, with you, his own Evangeline

[talonabraxas]

Planetary Parade Talon Abraxas

This month, six planets in the solar system — Mars, Jupiter, Uranus, Venus, Neptune and Saturn — will appear in Earth’s skies in a "parade of planets."

Although the dark hours of Jan. 21 and 25 may be good times to see it, as various media outlets have publicized, this sight will not be restricted to one or two nights. It will be possible to see a giant arc of planets any clear night in January (and it was visible in December, too). And, in fact, an even greater opportunity lies in the months ahead, when yet another planet joins the "parade."