#i listened to eternal sunshine like i breathed air

[delicatepointofview]

louis and the girls

[eyelessfaces]

say yes?

santiago garcia x reader

summary: the first time he asks, you say no. the next few times become a game to him.

warnings: refused proposal, angst (with a good ending), mentions of the operation from the movie, tom is mentioned like once or twice (yes this counts as a warning), brief mentions of ptsd and unhealthy ways to cope with it (drinking), a tiny smut scene

tags: gn!reader, fluff, santi being silly, the first few scenes are really angsty but I promise it mainly gets silly and cute after that!!

please mind that for artistic reasons (lmao), the first few scenes are not following a linear chronology (I wanted to point that out in case it gets confusing)

word count: 3k

masterlist | taglist | ao3

updates blog: @eyelessupdates

The tip of your fingers drum nervously against the counter; the sound is awful mixed with the aggressive rumbling of the coffee machine. Like every other morning, you watch the birds outside the kitchen window, pecking through the bowl of mixed seeds, and like every other morning, you feel Santiago’s hand gently resting over your lower stomach as the prickle of his stubble scratches your cheek when he kisses it.

You hear him pull the stool to sit at the bar table, like every other morning, and like every other morning, you give him the coffee you just made – though hesitantly, this time – before you make yourself one.

And just like every other morning, he checks on his phone as he waits for his coffee to cool down, the smoke curling up in the air, swirls visible through the ray of sunshine piercing through the kitchen.

You gaze at him, at the way he scrolls through the news page on his phone, your stomach churning at the fact you’re both trying so hard to act like yesterday was an evening like every other one and like this morning is the natural follow up of a perfectly normal situation.

Then, all you can hear is the coffee machine, your coffee pouring and the birds outside, chirping.

“Are we gonna act like nothing happened?” 

He looks up from his phone, to you. 

“Isn’t that what you want?” he quirks an eyebrow at you, his morning voice deep and raspy.

You huff out a small breath through your nose. “No” the coffee machine stops, but you remain facing Santiago. “I want things to be clear between us.”

He puts his phone down onto the counter, with a small chuckle as both of his hands rub the sleep off of his face. “You made things clear sweetheart.”

—

Your body was curled at the edge of your side, your arm hanging off the bed, fingers brushing the cool floor. Sleep had been hard to find, for the both of you; you felt Santiago move behind you across the bed, turning to face the opposite direction. 

How could either of you possibly sleep tonight?

Your heart ached inside your chest, your mind full and feeling like your head was about to explode, so you couldn’t even imagine how he must feel.

“Santi,” your voice was weak, quieter than you had anticipated. 

He hummed softly in response, just enough to let you know he was listening. 

You waited an instant. It all burned your tongue, everything you could possibly say to him.

“I love you” you reminded him, as if innocently trying to press a bandaid over the wide crack you had managed to create earlier. It felt stupid. You knew this wouldn’t fix the broken pieces.

Maybe it was even making things worse.

Santiago could hear the beating of his own heart reverberating through his ears; for you, the room was dead silent, and it remained like this for what seemed to be an eternity, during which you considered leaving the bedroom to take a breath outside, before he finally said, 

“I know.”

—

The ride back home had been oppressively quiet. Santiago's playlist, though playing at the lowest volume, had somehow managed to mingle with the shitload of thoughts running through your mind, and the rhythmic drumming of his fingers against the steering wheel felt like a desperate attempt to ease the sickening tension between the both of you and to make it feel like it all wasn’t awfully awkward.

Back at your shared home, you watched as he slid his jacket over the coat rack like he was on autopilot before you followed, hanging yours beside his. 

You glanced at him as he mindlessly tossed his cap over the couch. It felt like the right moment to address the elephant in the room – though you weren't truly sure there was a right moment to talk about this.

“Santi I–” you started, words dying in your throat, unsure where you were even going. He turned and sat against the back of the couch, knowing where the conversation was headed, his hands shoving into his pockets. “It’s alright,” he said quietly, his voice low, resigned. “You don’t have to explain anything. I get it.”

“It’s not that I don’t want to marry you.” you affirmed. His gaze hardened, his lips pressing into a tight line as he looked at you. Out of all the things you could say, he hadn’t anticipated this. 

You could distinctly see the hurt and confusion in his flickering eyes. “Then what is this? Because that’s sure as hell what it felt like tonight.” 

You hated this. Hated to see him ache, knowing it was all your fault. Hated to hear the self defensive sarcasm in his voice – hated to see his conflicted furrowed brow. “It's just– not the right time.” you explained. You took a breath, stepping towards him, getting closer, but not too much. You could already see the frustration building up inside him, you didn’t want him to feel cornered.

“You don't know what you're doing. You're still processing what happened in South America” 

It had only been a month; he was still having nightmares, was still dissociating at random times, was still pouring himself a glass at random times of the day, more often than he should.

You knew you were right. You wondered if he thought you were. 

He stared at you, his expression unreadable, and you talked again when you started to see the defensiveness, the way his mouth gaped slightly as he searched for his words.

“You’re not doing this for us. You’re doing this for you, because you’re scared. You’re scared of things slipping away from you, so you jump head first into things to feel like you have control over your life. That’s what this proposal felt like” 

He rubbed the stubble of his chin, nodding, not like he understood or agreed, like he acknowledged what you were saying. His hand buried in his jeans pocket again. "You think this is just because of what happened? I’ve been sure about this for a long time. I wouldn’t ask if I wasn’t." his eyes darkened, his jaw working as he processed the conversation. “You think I don’t mean it.” he said quietly, more of a statement than a question.

“I'm not sure,” you pinched your lips, stepping towards him, desperate to make him understand. “I mean, I know you mean it. I know. But Santi… Ever since you came back–” you shook your head. His jaw tightened, the crease of his brows becoming more visible. “You’re trying to hold on to something, to control something, because so much of what happened out there was out of your hands. That proposal– it felt like a reaction to everything, like you’re trying to ground yourself, to finally have control over something in your life.”

He shook his head, a small sigh leaving his mouth. “It wasn’t. I just didn’t want to waste any more time.” he nodded, a pleading look over his face. Your heart clenched inside your chest. “I know it may seem rushed after what happened, with Tom and everything, but–” he stopped when he saw you wince. “I want to make the most of my life. With you”

The confession should make you feel all giddy, just like the proposal was supposed to. It just makes your heart tighten inside your chest.

“So, I’m right.” you raised your eyebrows at the way he just proved your point. “You’re doing this because of the operation.” 

You sighed with a shake of your head, your hand trying to rub away the ache lodged inside your skull. “So no, I don’t want to marry you out of emergency. Ask me again when we have it all sorted out, and I’ll say yes”

He nodded, biting his tongue. He knew he didn't have room to talk back on this, because he knew you were probably right.

“Jesus, Santi” you sighed, shaking your head once again, before you disappeared through the hallway. 

—

“I don’t want you to feel like shit over this,” you say, turning away to pick up your coffee. His lips tighten into a sheepish smile before he brings his own cup to his mouth. 

A soft frown grows over his face as he points a finger at you, his mouth still full. “So, next time,” he starts, having barely finished swallowing his sip. “Bigger ring, better speech, delivery?” he asks teasingly, testing the waters. 

You huff out a small, genuine laugh, relieved he’s taking it lightly, and an easy smile grows over his face when he sees yours.

You lean in against the counter, onto your forearms, humming in reflection. 

“Ring is perfect. Speech, delivery… I’d say save your talent in smoothness for our vows” you grin.

“Okay,” he chuckles, “So we're really getting married at some point” he grins, sliding his hand into yours.

“At some point,” you shrug playfully, gently squeezing his hand. “It just has to be the right time” you nod, more serious now.

“The right time…” he hums pensively, nodding slowly.

—

It starts rather innocently, at first, before it becomes a silly little game to him. 

The tension regarding the proposal has gradually eased between the both of you, and you have managed to find your regular dynamic again, not needing to sleep on opposite edges of your shared bed anymore.

It happens for the first time two weeks after the proposal, while you are getting ready to go to work; you’re almost done brushing your teeth, Santiago standing by your side doing the same, when he asks, out of the blue, “Would this be the right time?”

You frown at his reflection in the mirror, unsure what he means, leaning above the sink to spit out your foaming toothpaste. 

“What?” you ask, turning to him – his toothbrush is hanging from his mouth, his hand holding an open ring box. You freeze, once again, the same way you did the first time. 

“Marry me?” he asks, the toothbrush hanging out of his mouth moving as he speaks, his toothpaste-full mouth making the question almost unintelligible. You would think he’s being serious if he didn’t go back to brushing his teeth with his free hand as soon as he asked the question, and if he didn’t immediately follow into breaking into a laugh, rushing to empty his mouth full of toothpaste in the sink. 

“Very funny,” you sigh, your heart still thumping inside your chest as you watch him rinse his mouth.

“Oh you should have seen your face, babe” he chuckles facing you again, a playful grin plastered over his face. 

“Too bad you will never know my answer to the question,” you tease. He huffs out a laugh, wiping away the bit of dry toothpaste in the corner of your mouth before he kisses you. 

The next time it happens is more spontaneous, less staged on his part and more subtle – though still somewhat gently pushy. 

You’re trying to assemble a shelf, reading over and over again the instruction manual that might as well be written in another language; Santiago’s sighing as he checks every side and angle of the half built piece of furniture, trying to figure out where it went wrong, when he confidently affirms, “If we can get through this, I think we can go through marriage.”

And from there, it goes on, and on. 

It's little jokes about it thrown randomly through the weeks, making you playfully hit his chest with the back of your hand.

It's him getting on one knee, looking up at you with soft eyes, before he eventually just ends up tying his shoe.

It's him opening the ring box at the most random situations.

It all gets so frequent you don’t even get surprised when he kneels to grab something from the shelf when you're out for groceries, then shifting to one knee and dramatically pulling the ring box out of his jacket to present it to you.

“Santi, c’mon, your knees!” you urge him up, offering your hand for help, giggling like a teenager as you look around making sure no one actually thinks he's serious. He laughs and gets up, putting the item he was originally grabbing in the cart. “Are you really carrying that ring everywhere with you?” you scold him, pulling on his arm as you cling to him.

He shrugs. “You never know when it might happen,” he grins playfully.

He's not, in the slightest, kidding. He even does it in the middle of sex once.

He's under you, his grip hot and firm over your hips as you roll against his lap, small gasps leaving your lips swollen from kissing; he pulls your upper body down to his, silencing your desperate moans by licking into your mouth as he fucks up into you, one hand pressed against your back, the other gripping your side. 

His hand comes to rest at your neck once he pulls away. “If this doesn’t make you wanna marry me, I don’t know what will” he breathes out, reaching to his bedside table to grab the small box resting there.

You grip his wrist. “Don’t do that to me. You know I’d say yes to anything right now” you whine, drawing a huffed laugh out of him. “You’re not playing fair”

He laughs into your neck, planting a kiss there.

Spring quickly fades into summer, so it gets more and more frequent for you and Santiago to spend your weekend evenings at the boys’; it is at Will’s place this time, so like each time you’re there, they play poker, and because Benny is a sore loser, he ends up hanging out with you by the firepit, further away from the group. 

“So, are you actually gonna say yes one day?” Benny asks, handing you your glass refill, pulling the empty chair by your side to sit down next to you.

You smile, amused as you take your glass from Benny’s hand. You know the subject is no secret to anyone, but it still manages to make your heart leap inside your chest each time someone mentions it.

“It would require him to actually ask” you say with a tilt of the head before you take a sip of your drink.

Benny hums thoughtfully. 

There’s a silence between you before you can hear a sudden commotion of laughs further away and Frankie’s familiar bragging sneer, breaking the prior focused mood of their poker table. You smile as you watch them, your attention drifting back to Benny when he nudges you with his bottle of beer. “You know, for as long as I’ve known Pope, he’s always had commitment issues.” he nods, a small scoff breaking through. “Could rarely keep a girlfriend long enough for us to see her twice. Hell, you should see how many girls he’s had casual sex with, it’s–” 

“Okay Benny, you don’t have to–” you scoff, holding a hand up to stop him.

“I know, I know, it’s not something you wanna hear” he laughs, shaking his head. 

“What I mean is if the Santiago Garcia I know is asking you to marry him, he means it.” he shrugs, taking a sip of his beer.

“I know,” you mutter casually, like he just said the most banal thing ever when in reality your stomach flutters at Benny’s words and you suddenly feel like a teenager with a crush. 

The night goes on and quiets down until eventually, everyone ends up leaving or going to bed; Will offered his sofa bed for you and Santiago to sleep on, and you both agreed to accept, admitting you were too tired to drive back home. 

“So how many games did you win?” you ask him, sliding underneath the thin cover to press yourself against him. 

He chuckles, extending his arm so you can slot close to him. “Only one” 

“You suck”

He grins at your teasing. “I’ll never be worse than Benny” 

You chuckle, pressing your lips against his stubbled cheek. His hand slides down your back, pulling you even closer against him before he slips it underneath your shirt, his thumb dragging back and forth against your bare skin. 

Your mouths meet when his other hand cups your face, his broad hands roaming onto your sides and back when you fully lie over him, the kiss deepening as his tongue slips into your mouth and you start full on making out; you would be fucked if anyone came by the living room to use the bathroom, but either of you could care less.

“Hm, I could ask you to marry me right now” he hums, barely pulling away from your lips; he’s still so close, so close that you can feel him smile. You chuckle, your hand burying into the short curls at the side of his head. “No, I mean it,” he affirms in a serious whisper, adjusting his position under you. “Look, I’m done joking. Marry me”

You back away, enough to be able to read his expression. 

Something in his eyes tells you he might be serious, this time. “Really?”

He nods. “Yes. Fuck, I don’t even have the ring right now.”

You grin softly, shifting to rest by his side again. “You’re good. You’re really good.” you prop yourself onto your elbow, your other hand resting against his chest. “Because you’ve done it so many times throughout literally months and I’m actually surprised now that you’re asking for real” he smiles at that, his hand resting over yours. 

“You know, I’m still waiting for my answer” he grins. 

You shrug playfully. “Eh, you don’t have any ring, so I don’t know–” you tease, stopping when he rolls over you and presses his mouth to yours. You kiss him back, your hands burying into his hair again. “Of course I’ll marry you.”

He smiles contentedly, his eyes softly roaming over your face.

“I meant it the first time I asked” he admits, pinching his lips into a small smile. You mirror it, brushing a thumb over his cheekbone.

“But I get why you said no. And you were right to. But it’s kinda crazy that it’s now happening in Will’s living room” he snorts up a laugh, and you burst out laughing, before you quiet yourself with the palm of your hand against your mouth.

“I know, right? But it could have been at Walmart, so”

He chokes up a laugh, burying his face against your chest. 

“Yeah, it could have been at Walmart.”

—

any and every feedback/reblog/comment is greatly appreciated and keeps authors going!!

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@my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction @mystinky-butt @anightshift @whatthefishh @alexxavicry 

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[strwbrryeyes]

☼ don't wanna break up again ☼ (tsukishima kei x reader)

⟡ cw: she/her pronouns used but not much, use of alcohol, lot of angst, mentions and connotations of sex, no comfort/happy ending, lmk if i miss anything else

⟡ a/n: i really just needed to do minor adjustments so im uploading it again tee hee

⟡ eternal sunshine masterlist

Laying down in his bed, you look to the man next to you, Tsukishima Kei. You told yourself you wouldn’t do it again. You told yourself you wouldn’t fall into his bed another sleepless night, not after what happened but here you are…wrapped in his bed sheets as he watches a show, the lights of the TV flashing across his face highlighting every feature on his face you have come to memorize and love over the last three years and a half.

Turning to face away from him, you drift into your own thoughts. You and Kei have been on and off for a year and a half after two solid years of a healthy relationship. Without getting into details, the both of you have had a rough year and it has definitely affected your relationship. It affected the relationship so much that the both of you stopped living together to see if space would bring you closer together eventually- absence makes the heart grow fonder type bullshit- but unsurprisingly, it has only made the divide even wider to where you would constantly call it quits but then always found yourselves at each other’s doorsteps every now and then and for a few weeks, everything would be perfect again.

Tonight was no exception, you showed up at his apartment looking a mess, begging for him back and like the man he is, Kei let you in for a drink. One thing led to another and you both ended up entangled on his couch, in a heated makeout session which turned into makeup sex in his bed. This is how the first night always goes. Cry. Talk. Drink. Sex. And now that you’re thinking about it, you don’t want to keep doing this and everything hits you, you can’t keep going on like this. Knowing this, you feel the tears that have been building up all night spill out with soft sobs escaping your lips. You didn’t think Tsukishima would have heard you but after a few seconds, he sighs and turns off the TV.

“Look at me, [name].” He quietly while placing a kiss on your shoulder. 

Turning around, you look at where he is sitting up. Studying his expression, you can’t tell if he’s actually worried about you or if this is just for show so you stay silent. 

Kei wipes away your tears and caresses your face “What’s wrong?” he asks softly.

Taking a deep breath you finally speak, “We can’t keep doing this, Kei.”

Tsukishima doesn’t even need to ask what you mean by that and all he does is sink down on the bed to lay down next to you. “I know… I know.”

For a moment, the room is filled with a heavy silence, the weight of your words hangs in the air. Tsukishima's hand remains on your cheek, his thumb gently stroking your skin, but there’s a sadness in his eyes that mirrors your own.

“You don’t want this either, do you?” you ask, your voice barely above a whisper.

He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. “No, I don’t. But I don’t know how to fix it, [name]. I don’t know if we can fix it.”

You nod, tears slipping down your cheeks again. “I know. And that’s what makes this so hard. I love you, Kei. I always will. But I can’t keep hurting like this. I can’t keep hurting YOU like this, pretending like things will change when we both know they won’t.”

His grip tightens on you, almost as if he’s afraid you’ll disappear. “But what if... what if we try one more time? I promise I’ll be better, [Name]. I’ll do whatever it takes to make you happy.”

Your eyes flash with anger, sadness, and confusion as you sit up, pulling away from him. “It’s too late for that, Kei! How many times have we been here? How many times have I listened to you say you’ll change, that things will get better only for you to go back to your stupid ways?”

He sits up as well, his own frustration evident. “And how do you think I feel, [Name]? You think it’s easy for me? You think I don’t struggle with this too? I’m not the only one at fault here, you were never a saint either!”

A bitter laugh escapes your lips. “Are you serious? You’re the one who walks away every time things get tough. You’re the one who leaves me behind without a second thought. I’ve been trying to save this relationship for who knows how long, Kei, but I can’t do it alone.” You shout at him, feeling the sadness inside of you be replaced with anger.

His eyes harden, and he stands up from the bed. “Maybe if you weren’t so clingy and so dependent on me for everything, things would be different. Maybe if you gave me some space, we wouldn’t be in this mess.”

“Clingy? Dependent? How can I be clingy when you’re never fucking around? You think I enjoyed watching you walk away time and time again? I gave you space, Kei. I gave you all the space you needed, and what did you do with it? You pushed me away further.” 

He looks away, unable to meet your gaze. “I never meant to hurt you.”

“But you did,” you whisper, your voice trembling with emotion. “You hurt me over and over again. And I let you. I kept coming back and letting you back in my life hoping things would be different, but they never were.”

Silence fills the room, the tension between you two thick. Finally, Tsukishima turns to face you, his expression softening slightly. “I’m sorry, [Name]. I really am. But I don’t know how to fix this.”

You take a deep breath, trying to compose yourself. “Maybe it’s not about fixing it, Kei. Maybe it’s about accepting that we’re not good for each other. That we bring out the worst in each other.”

His shoulders slump, and he nods slowly. “You’re right.”

Tears well up in your eyes, but you blink them back, not wanting him to see you cry one last time. “I think it’s time we say goodbye. For real this time.”

He looks at you with a look of pain and regret and walks over to you “I think so too, [Name].” he sighs as he walks over to sit next to you.

You lay your head on his shoulder and close your eyes. “I’ll always love you and the memories we had together, I hope you know that, Kei.”

Tsukishima doesn’t say anything, he just presses a kiss to your temple, scared he’ll say something wrong.

For a few moments, you both sit in silence, hoping one of you changes your mind and begs the other to try again, but the begging never comes and you both feel the end of your relationship officially come.

After what seems like forever, you take one last look at the man you’ve loved for so long before walking out his apartment. And though it hurts now, you know that in time, you’ll both heal and find your own strength and your own happiness. 

But as you begin to leave, you hear Tsukishima’s voice. What was once a soothing and calming sound, now feels like a cruel and sad reminder of the love that no longer exists. “You know I care about you, right?”

You stop at the doorway, looking back at him with even more tears streaming down your already drenched cheeks. “Then why did you always hurt me when I needed you the most? Why did you always leave?”

He opens his mouth to respond, but no words come out. You let out one last sad laugh before finally slamming the door shut before you leave.

Back in your own apartment, the emptiness is both a comfort and a curse. You sit on your bed, staring at the ceiling, replaying every memory in your mind and you find it hard to cope with the fact that you now have to find out who you are without Tsukishima but you know that you’ll make it through.

Tsukishima, on the other hand, sits in the silence of his apartment, the echoes of your departure reverberating through the room. He knows he messed up, knows that his fears and insecurities drove you away. But for now, all he can do is sit and think about what could have been, the love that was lost, and the person he let slip through his fingers.

Days of pain and heartache turn to weeks but eventually, you find yourself enjoying life again. You’ve been going out with your friends more often, been picking up new hobbies, and most importantly, taking care of yourself properly. You don’t know what Tsukishima is up to, but you only hope that he is doing well and that he is becoming a better person for himself. You’ll always love him in some strange and twisted way, but you’ll love him from afar from now on.

[seobstarr]

Eternal Sunshine

pairing!: Non idol!Sunghoon x fem reader

genre!: angst, a little nostalgia, and a pinch of fluff that you’d have to use a magnifying glass to see it.

trope!: second chance

prompt!: After a bad argument that resulted in sunghoon angrily racing out of your apartment, he begins to worry about you when you don’t respond to any of his messages the following days after the fallout. When he figures out that you’ve decided to erase him from your mind forever, he makes it his mission to get to you before it’s too late.

warnings!: profanity, arugements, breakups, crying, descriptive writing panic attacks, mentions of disassociation

songs!: eternal sunshine- ariana grande, imperfect for you- ariana grande, talk- beabadoobee, saturn- SZA

Sunghoon hadn’t known how they had gotten to where they were.

The sun had dipped below the horizon, casting long shadows in the living room. The couple both stood on opposite sides of the room, their faces flushed with frustration and anger and the remnants of their latest argument hung in the air casting a palpable tension between them.

"This isn't working, Sunghoon!" Y/N exclaimed, her voice trembling with a mix of anger and desperation, her heart aching with words unsaid; unable to say under the daunting cold stare of her longtime boyfriend

"We can't keep doing this. We can't keep hurting each other like this."

Sunghoon ran a hand through his brown hair, his eyes darkened with frustration. "And whose fault is that, Y/N? You're the one who always picks fights over every little thing. You’re insufferable!" Y/N knew that Sunghoon was sometimes like this. After a year of dating, of intimate moments and arguments like this she had known what Sunghoon had up his sleeve and in his books.

Sometimes unreasonable, like a rampaging ape, he would make no room for explanation or justice. Y/N flinched at his words, her eyes widening in hurt and discomfort. "Insufferable? Is that really what you think of me?"

Sunghoon threw his hands up in exasperation. "You never listen! Every time we have a problem, you just keep pushing and pushing until I can’t take it anymore. It's like you enjoy making things difficult. Like you get some sick pleasure out of seeing me frust"

Y/N’s eyes filled with tears, her voice breaking up at the sound of sunghoons words. Her heart had filled itself with somewhat of a burning esaperated ache, sending signals to the waterline of her eyeballs "I push because I care, Sunghoon. I push because I want us to work, because I want us to be better. I push because I know you won’t and I know you’ll return to loving me like you didn’t do something that hurt me. But it feels like you’ve given up."

Sunghoon shook his head, his voice softer but no less intense. "I haven’t given up, Y/N. But I’m exhausted. I’m tired of feeling like nothing I do is ever enough for you." The words hung between them, the weight of them sinking in. Everything sunghoon did was enough for her. All the times he had cared for her, had sat beside her in silence; just for company reasons, the sick days they had spent together. Everything that Sunghoon does, even if it’s just standing in the middle of a room, was more than y/n couldve asked for.

After a long stale silence Y/N took a step back, crossing her arms as if to protect herself from the sting of his words. "So what are you saying? That you don't love me anymore?" Sunghoon's face softened, a flicker of regret in his eyes. "I do love you, Y/N. But sometimes, love isn't enough. Sometimes, we just aren’t good for each other." Y/N felt a tear slide down her cheek, her heart breaking at the realization of his words. "So this is it, then? This is how it ends?" Again there was a silence, the cars outside the open window on the busy street seemed to echo in the darkened apartment.

Sunghoon's shoulders slumped, his own eyes glistening with unshed tears. After a breath to calm him down he began to speak "Y/N—”

Y/N swallowed hard, her voice barely a whisper. "Maybe you're right. Maybe... maybe we need to let go."

The silence that followed was deafening, both of them absorbing the finality of their choice as Y/N spoke with a firm halted voice; the lump of sobs in her throat beckoning to come out. Y/N felt a hollow ache in her chest, the pain of losing someone she once believed was her forever. Loosing someone who she had thought would be the last person she’d see when the light had left her eyes. Sunghoon took a step towards the door, hesitating for a moment. His hand laid on the handle and without saying another word he walked out unable to make sense of the situation. Y/N nodded to herself as she watched as Sunghoon leave, the door closing behind him with a quiet click that echoed throughout the empty room.

The sobs that had been threatening her came out distant, almost as if it had escaped her throat without permission. The weight of the moment hung heavy in the air, pressing down on her chest like a boulder, making it hard to breathe.

A numbness creeped into her limbs, spreading slowly, paralyzing her. Her mind raced, replaying every word of their conversation, every painful syllable that had led to this moment. Her knees buckled, and she sank to the floor, the cool wood pressing against her skin through the thin fabric of her pants. She wrapped her arms around herself, trying to hold in the pieces that felt like they were falling apart, trying to desperately hold the remaining lingering touches he left on her in the previous days.

Her heart pounded erratically, each beat a painful reminder of what she had lost. She had never known that a heart could physically ache, but now as it did, she understood every clichéd song, every poem, every tear-stained line about heartbreak. She squeezed her eyes shut, but that only made the tears spill over, hot and relentless, carving paths down her cheeks. She tried to wipe them away, but they just kept coming, an endless stream of sorrow that she couldn’t stop. Her mind flitted back to the good times, the laughter, the shared secrets, the warmth of his touch, the whisperings of sweet nothings as they laid beneath the sunday morning sun. She remembered the way his eyes would light up when he saw her, the way his arms felt like home. Now, every happy moment seemed like a cruel joke, a setup for the devastating situation she was presented with.

The hours passed in a blur of tears and pain, the world outside moving on while hers stood still. Every sound seemed too loud, every shadow too dark, every breath too hard. She dragged herself to bed, curling up under the blankets that still smelled like him. and his softly fragrant cologne. She buried her face in his pillow and had shared her tears with the white satin cover. Her silent sobs continued until her body was exhausted and as she drifted into a restless sleep, the playful memories of Sunghoon and her faded in and out of her head.

Sunghoon had hated this distance. In the three weeks they had been apart, his body seemed to ache for her. His restless sleep seemed to take the form of the dark bags under his eyes and every night was a struggle, his mind replaying their last argument, the hurt in her eyes, the choked down shaker voice that she presented to him and the words he wished he could take back. The words he wished she had taken back. He had been stubborn, prideful, and now he was paying the price for it.

He wandered through his apartment, each corner filled with memories of her. The couch where they had spent countless evenings watching movies, her head resting on his shoulder. The kitchen, where they had danced to old songs while cooking dinner, laughing when they inevitably messed up the recipe. The bed they had shared, where they whispered secrets and dreams to each other in the quiet moments before sleep.

Sunghoon picked up his phone, scrolling through their old messages, his heart clenching with each sweet word and shared joke. He remembered their first date, the nervous excitement as they sat across from each other at a small café, sipping on coffee and talking for hours. He had been captivated by her smile, the way she lit up when she talked about her passions. They had walked along the river afterward, hands brushing until he finally gathered the courage to hold hers. It had felt like the beginning of something magical.

He closed his eyes, letting the memories wash over him. The weekend getaway to the mountains, where they hiked during the day and cuddled by the fire at night. The spontaneous road trip to the beach, where they played in the waves and collected seashells. Every moment had been perfect, every experience richer because she was by his side.

Sunghoon’s chest tightened as he thought about the night of their argument. He had been so frustrated, the stress from work boiling over into their conversation. He had said things he didn’t mean, his anger masking his love for her. He had seen the hurt in her eyes, the way she had tried to hold back tears. He wanted to reach out, to pull her into his arms and apologize, but his pride had held him back. Instead, he had walked away cowardly, the silence between them heavy and oppressive.

Now, he regretted every word, every moment of stubborn silence. He missed her laugh, the way her eyes sparkled when she was excited, the feeling of her hand in his. He missed the way she understood him, sometimes better than he understood himself. Without her, everything felt dull and lifeless. The world seemed less vibrant, the colors muted.

Sunghoon sighed, running a hand through his hair. He knew he had to make things right. He couldn’t bear this distance any longer, couldn’t stand the thought of living without her. He grabbed his jacket and headed out the door. He knew she wouldn't dare be at her own apartment, that wasn’t like his lover he knew. He knew she had to be out, maybe working extra hours at the local library or even at the mall to distract her from the feelings that ached her at night. He would need to go talk to her two friends if he wanted an exact location.

As he walked, he thought about all the things he would say. He would tell her how much he missed her, how every moment without her felt like an eternity when he did find her.

The streets were quiet, the evening air cool against his skin. Sunghoon’s heart pounded in his chest, a mix of fear and hope. When he finally reached the rented building of her friends, he paused, taking a deep breath before knocking.

Jake answered, his expression immediately turning wary when he saw Sunghoon. “Sunghoon?”

“I need to talk to you guys about Y/N,” Sunghoon said, trying to keep his voice steady. Jake stepped aside reluctantly, allowing Sunghoon to enter. Isa was sitting on the couch, and she looked up with a frown as he walked in.

“Sunghoon, this isn’t a good time,” Isa said, her voice tinged with frustration.

“I know you’re not happy to see me,” Sunghoon began, “but I need to find her. It’s important.”

Jake crossed his arms, standing protectively by Isa. “She doesn’t want to see you, Sunghoon. You need to respect that.”

“I get that I messed up,” Sunghoon said, his frustration bubbling up. “But I need to talk to her, to make things right. Please, just tell me where she is.” Isa and Jake exchanged a glance, a silent conversation passing between them then finally, Isa sighed and looked back at Sunghoon, her eyes filled with a mix of pity and anger.

“She’s trying to move on, Sunghoon,” Isa said firmly. “You need to let her go.” Sunghoon had saw the worried stare they had held between eachother and a strong uneasy feeling washed over him, his patience wearing thin. “You’re hiding something, i see it. I’m not here to play mind games, i’m here to figure out where my girlfriend is” He urged. Isa and Jake sighed before Isa had opened the little cabinet below the coffee table, pulling out an envelope and handing it to the taller in front of her.

“we got this in the mail yesterday," Jake said, breaking the awkward silence as Sunghoon examined the envelope. Sunghoon sat in disbelief as he stared at the envelope his friends had just handed him. It was plain and unassuming, yet Sunghoon had a sinking feeling that whatever was inside would change everything.

"What is this?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper. He was frozen from fear, and the feeling of impending doom that washed over him, His hands tremble over the open slit that was already made by the two who sat in front of him. “I…I can’t open it.” It was getting harder to breathe. The tension in the room grew thicker. Isa’s face softened with sadness, and she looked away, unable to meet his eyes. Jake stepped forward, his expression grim.

“She’s…she’s erasing you, Sunghoon,” Jake said quietly. The words hit Sunghoon like a punch to the gut. “What do you mean, erasing me?” disbelief painted his mouth thickly, like oil paint. “She went to a clinic,” Jake explained, his voice heavy. “They specialize in erasing memories of someone the client wants gone. She’s trying to forget you, Sunghoon.” He finished and Sunghoons stomach twisted inward, his throat holding back the nausea he’d experience.

In almost a second his eyes dart down to the document that explained the procedure and the precautions necessary to find the shipping address below the signature “Sunghoon…” Isa tried to explain, maneuvering the blanket that covered her lap to stand up. But Sunghoon wasn’t listening, her words like fuzz bled into his ears. The surrounding areas around him had became almost uncannily non-existent and the envelope in his hand had became moist from the sweat his palms had produced. A piercing continuous beep had replaced the muffled voices of jake and isa and the tv that sat in front of the three for background noise, all he could think about was her.

About the procedure, about the feelings her would forget when it was said and done. Jakes hand had snapped him out of the reeling disassociation his mind had made him experience “Are you alright?” Jake had asked worryingly, but Sunghoon just replied in a cough and without another word, he bolted out of the apartment, his heart racing. He had to reach her before it was too late.

Sunghoon stood outside the clinic, his breath coming in ragged gasps. He had run the entire way, his mind racing with disbelief and desperation.

The clinic loomed in front of him, its sterile facade a stark contrast to the chaos inside his heart. He pushed through the double doors, his eyes scanning the waiting room frantically, barely taking in his surroundings as he made his way to the reception desk. “I’m looking for Y/N L/N” he said breathlessly. “Please, I need to see her.”

The receptionist looked up, her expression professional but slightly wary. Her hesitation became greatly known to Sunghoon fast. He knew he looked crazy, almost insane by the way the older womens eyes dialated with fear. His hair had been disheveled and the cold crisp air of winter had painted his nose a bright Rudolph red from all the running he did “I’m sorry, sir, but—”

“Please,” Sunghoon interrupted, his voice cracking. Something in his desperation must have reached her, because she nodded slowly. “She’s in Room 3” Sunghoon sprinted down the hall, his footsteps echoing loudly. He reached the first floor to where “room 3” was plastered in bold font on a hanging sleek sign and took another 4 big strides before throwing the door open, his eyes landing on Y/N, who was lying on a reclined chair, electrodes attached to her temples.

“Stop!” he shouted, rushing to her side. The technician operating the machine paused, startled by the sudden intrusion “You cannot be back here!” Y/N’s eyes fluttered open, confusion and sadness swirling in them as she looked at him. “Sunghoon?” He closed the distance between them without a second thought and in a few strides his chest was heaving. "I know what you're about to do. Please, don't go through with this."

Y/N’s gaze hardened, a protective shell forming around her vulnerability. "Why do you care, Sunghoon? You said it yourself—sometimes love isn’t enough." Sunghoon’s face contorts with regret. "I know what I said, and I was wrong. I was angry and frustrated, but that doesn’t mean i should’ve treated you like that. Please, let’s talk about this."

Y/N shook her head, tears glistening in her eyes. "Talking isn’t going to fix this. We’re broken, Sunghoon. We hurt each other too much."

He reached out, his hand trembling as it cupped Y/N’s cheek. "We can try to fix it. We can learn from our mistakes. But erasing me, erasing us—it won’t solve anything. It’ll just leave us emptier than before."

Y/N closes her eyes, leaning into his touch despite the almost burning frustration she felt from doing so. "I can’t keep living with this pain. Every memory, every moment we shared, it’s like a sword had punctured my lung."

Sunghoon’s voice cracked, desperation seeping into his words. "If you do this, we’ll lose everything. The good memories, the laughter, the love. Please, Y/N, don’t let go of us this way." She took a deep breath, her voice trembling. "What if it’s too late? What if we can’t fix this? What if you can’t forgive me for doing this?"

Sunghoon shook his head, his grip on her hand tightening. "I would never hold this against you, you’re vulnerable Y/N, I would never take advantage of you like this. It’s never too late. We can start over, we can rebuild. But we need to do it together. Don’t, Y/N. Please.” Y/N looked between Sunghoon and the panicked doctor who was on the phone with security, wastefully debating between the comfort of forgetting and the pain of holding on.

Sunghoon's footsteps echoed softly on the deserted platform, the early morning mist curling around his ankles in a cooling breeze. He adjusted his scarf, trying to fend off the biting chill of the ghostly morning, and scanned the horizon for the first hint of dawn. He loved these quiet moments, when the world still asleep, it coddled him in a warm sense of possibilities. But today, an uneasy feeling gnawed at his usually calm demeanor, something the train platform rarely gave him.

Y/N stood at the other end of the platform, her breath forming small clouds in the frosty air as she tried to find comfort in the cold crisp air. She shoved her hands deeper into her coat pockets, seeking warmth and comfort. The train station felt like a ghost town, a stark contrast to the noisy chaos that usually accompanied her mornings.

Both of their eyes met across the platform, and for a split second, time seemed to freeze. There was something eerily familiar in Sunghoon's impatient colding gaze, something that tugged at the edges of Y/N's memory. But before she could dwell on it, the loudspeaker crackled to life, announcing the arrival of the next train.

Sunghoon hesitated, then took a step toward Y/N, meeting her in the middle of the trains inside "Hey," he said, his voice sounding strangely loud in the quiet almost empty train. "Do I know you?"

Y/N blinked, caught off guard. "I... I don't think so," she replied, though uncertainty laced her words. "But you seem familiar. Have we met before?"

Sunghoon frowned, searching his mind for any recollection but no memories had seemed to reenter his consciousness. "I don't think so. But... I have this weird feeling that we have. Maybe in another life or something."

Y/N chuckled, a soft, wistful sound. "Yeah, maybe. Or maybe we're just two strangers on the same train." She joked, earning a small laugh from the taller.

footnotes!.

keb notes!: HEYYYY SO LIKEE…I do not like this piece at all lolz 😆. I feel like it was rushed even though i spent 2 months on it, the formatting is off and most of all, i honestly just feel like i did an ASS job at writing this whole thing but i love ariana grande so i had to put this out there..also…MY ASS DID NOT GRAMMAR CHECK THIS SSORRRYYY😭😭

if you couldn’t tell this us based off of the 2004 movie “Eternal Sunshine Of The Spotless Mind” it’s honestly one of my favorite movies and when one of my favorite artists made a song referencing the movie in her music video i knew i had to write something ab it lol😭

This is also my first ever enhypen fic on tumblr!! I’ll be posting a jake fluff to compensate for this fic tho…

[angelixcute]

⋆˚࿔ 𝒀𝒂𝒏𝒅𝒆𝒓𝒆 𝒀𝒐𝒓𝒊𝒊𝒄𝒉𝒊 𝑻𝒔𝒖𝒈𝒊𝒌𝒖𝒏𝒊 𝜗𝜚˚⋆ :

𝗪𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀 ! ── .✦ : 𝙊𝙗𝙨𝙚𝙨𝙨𝙞𝙫𝙚 𝙗𝙚𝙝𝙖𝙫𝙞𝙤𝙪𝙧, 𝙎𝙩𝙖𝙡𝙠𝙞𝙣𝙜, 𝙈𝙪𝙧𝙙𝙚𝙧, 𝙊𝙤𝙘 𝙔𝙤𝙧𝙞𝙞𝙘𝙝𝙞, 𝙉𝙤𝙣 𝙘𝙤𝙣𝙨𝙚𝙣𝙨𝙪𝙖𝙡 𝙠𝙞𝙨𝙨𝙞𝙣𝙜, 𝙎𝙪𝙜𝙜𝙚𝙨𝙩𝙞𝙫𝙚 𝙗𝙪𝙩 𝙣𝙤 𝙉𝙎𝙁𝙒 !, 𝙍𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙚𝙧 𝙞𝙨 𝙧𝙚𝙛𝙚𝙧𝙧𝙚𝙙 𝙩𝙤 𝙖𝙨 𝙖 𝙛𝙚𝙢𝙖𝙡𝙚.

Yoriichi Tsugikuni was a renowned demon slayer, known for his unparalleled skills and unwavering determination to eradicate all demons that crossed his path. But behind his stoic facade, Yoriichi harbored a dark obsession with { }, a young demon slayer who had caught his eye during one of their missions together.

{ } was oblivious to Yoriichi's twisted affections, believing him to be nothing more than a mentor and ally in their fight. But Yoriichi's feelings for { } ran far deeper than mere admiration or camaraderie. He was consumed by a possessive love that bordered on madness, willing to do anything to keep { } by his side.

As the days passed, Yoriichi's obsession only grew stronger, his every thought consumed by { }’s beauty and grace. He watched from the shadows as { } trained and fought, his heart aching with longing and jealousy whenever they interacted with other demon slayers. Yoriichi knew that he could never truly possess { }, but he could not bear the thought of anyone else laying claim to the object of his affection.

The scent of cherry blossoms hung heavy in the air, their delicate petals swirling around the crimson-clad figure of Yoriichi. His eyes, usually bright with a gentle warmth, were clouded with a grief that mirrored the storm brewing within his heart. He had watched you for what felt like an eternity, his heart aching with a love as fierce as the sun. But you, his beloved, saw only the simple kindness in the eyes of the village blacksmith, ignoring the passionate gaze that followed your every move.

You were a radiant light, a burst of sunshine in his world. Your laughter was like music to his ears, and your touch, a flame that ignited a fire within him. Yet, his heart was a desolate wasteland, barren and unyielding, for your affections belonged to another.

“𝙏𝙝𝙚 𝙡𝙤𝙬𝙡𝙮 𝙗𝙡𝙖𝙘𝙠𝙨𝙢𝙞𝙩𝙝 𝙬𝙖𝙨 𝙣𝙤𝙩 𝙬𝙤𝙧𝙩𝙝𝙮 𝙤𝙛 𝙮𝙤𝙪𝙧 𝙡𝙤𝙫𝙚.” Yoriichi was not a man of violence, but the thought of losing you to another gnawed at his soul. He had seen the darkness within himself, the cold, unyielding heart that could be unleashed if he were pushed too far. He would protect you, he vowed, even if it meant destroying the world and everyone around you, because without you, there was nothing left to live for. His own brother betrayed him, he was alone, you were all he had and he’s unwilling to let you go.

He became a phantom in the shadows, a silent guardian watching over you. He would stand hidden behind the blossom trees, listening to your laughter. He would watch you from afar, his heart breaking with every smile you bestowed upon the blacksmith.

The sunset was beautiful today, so your lover decided to take you on a walk to enjoy it together. You had already seen it during your mission but still appreciated the gesture, finding it sweet.

The forest was silent, the trees towering around you like silent sentinels. He followed, his breathing and footsteps made no sound in the dense forest, a skill he had honed over the years. While you and your loved one were talking and having fun, he was watching you both from behind a tree, silently observing both of you with his amber eyes.

Yoriichi could feel the jealousy rising up inside him, his eyes narrowing as he continued to watch you interact with the blacksmith. He couldn't help but feel a pang of anger and possession as he observed you two together. He wanted you for himself, and the sight of you with someone else was making him incredibly frustrated and irritated.

You had forgotten something back at your hut and made your way there. As you left your lover, Yoriichi's eyes followed you intently. The moment you were out of sight, he took the chance to sneak closer to where the blacksmith was. His silent footsteps made no sound, and he stayed hidden behind a tree, watching the man carefully.

Yoriichi's heart was racing with a mix of jealousy and possessiveness. He was trying to understand what you saw in the blacksmith, and why you were with him instead of him. He clenched his fists, trying to control his emotions, but the sight of you two together burned in his mind.

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐮𝐫𝐠𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐜𝐥𝐚𝐢𝐦 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐚𝐬 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐨𝐰𝐧 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐛𝐞𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫.

Yoriichi's heart was pumping faster as he watched the blacksmith with a cold, calculating gaze. He had already made up his mind to eliminate the man who dared to take you away from him. He took a deep breath, trying to steady his breathing and calm his emotions. He slowly approached the blacksmith, staying hidden in the shadows. The man was completely unaware of the danger lurking nearby, completely defenseless and unsuspecting.

Yoriichi's eyes gleamed with determination and a hint of dark satisfaction, as he closed in on the blacksmith. He continued to move silently, his steps light and stealthy. The blacksmith was still blissfully unaware of the impending danger, focused on his work.

Yoriichi's hand went to his katana, drawing it out with expert precision. The blade glistened in the dim light, ready to fulfill Yoriichi's dark purpose.

Just as the blacksmith was about to turn around, Yoriichi struck with the speed and precision of a snake. In a flash, he had reached the man and cut through his back, dealing a fatal blow. The blacksmith collapsed to the ground, motionless and utterly dead. Yoriichi stood there for a moment, staring down at the lifeless body of the man who had been with you. The deed was done, the threat to his claim on you eliminated. Yoriichi's heart was still racing, but this time with a sense of satisfaction and relief.

He heard footsteps approaching behind him, they came to a sudden stop, just as Yoriichi was about to turn around he heard your horrified gasp.

"𝙔𝙤𝙪'𝙧𝙚 𝙗𝙖𝙘𝙠." He said calmly, his voice betraying no emotion.

He observed your reaction to the scene, watching as the realization dawned on you. Your horror and shock were exactly what he had expected, but a part of him also felt a strange sense of triumph. He was now free to claim you as his own, without the blacksmith getting in the way.

“𝙒𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙝𝙖𝙫𝙚 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙙𝙤𝙣𝙚?!” You shouted, desperately trying to keep from crying as not to make the situation even more stressful.

Yoriichi approached you, his steps unhurried and deliberate. He came to a stop in front of you, looking down at you with a cool, almost impassive expression. "𝙄 𝙙𝙞𝙙 𝙬𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙣𝙚𝙚𝙙𝙚𝙙 𝙩𝙤 𝙗𝙚 𝙙𝙤𝙣𝙚," he said calmly. "𝙃𝙚 𝙜𝙤𝙩 𝙞𝙣 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙬𝙖𝙮 𝙗𝙚𝙩𝙬𝙚𝙚𝙣 𝙪𝙨."

"𝙐𝙨?! 𝙏𝙝𝙚𝙧𝙚 𝙞𝙨 𝙣𝙤 𝙪𝙨!” You screamed, trying to make sense of his words.

Yoriichi's eyes narrowed at your words, his gaze hardening. "𝙏𝙝𝙖𝙩'𝙨 𝙬𝙝𝙚𝙧𝙚 𝙮𝙤𝙪'𝙧𝙚 𝙬𝙧𝙤𝙣𝙜," he said, his voice taking on a dangerous edge. “𝙏𝙝𝙚𝙧𝙚 𝙞𝙨 𝙫𝙚𝙧𝙮 𝙢𝙪𝙘𝙝 𝙖𝙣 𝙪𝙨. 𝙔𝙤𝙪 𝙟𝙪𝙨𝙩 𝙝𝙖𝙫𝙚𝙣'𝙩 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙡𝙞𝙯𝙚𝙙 𝙞𝙩 𝙮𝙚𝙩."

You would have already drawn out your sword by now but unfortunately you didn’t have it on you at the moment. Not like that would make much of a difference, after all he’s leagues ahead of you in strength. You had no other option other than stay with him or run. You chose the latter.

Yoriichi’s eyes widened in surprise as you suddenly turned and ran. He had not expected you to flee, and he was momentarily taken aback. He quickly recovered from his shock and immediately gave chase, his long strides catching up to you in no time. Despite your attempt to escape, his years of training and experience made it almost impossible for you to outrun him.

Yoriichi easily caught up to you, his hand reaching out to grab your arm. He spun you around, firmly pinning you against the nearest tree. He pressed his body against yours, trapping you effectively. He looked down at you with a mixture of possessiveness and determination. His burgundy eyes bored into yours, a fire burning within them.

"𝙏𝙝𝙚𝙧𝙚'𝙨 𝙣𝙤 𝙥𝙤𝙞𝙣𝙩 𝙞𝙣 𝙧𝙪𝙣𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜," he said in a low, blunt voice. "𝙔𝙤𝙪 𝙗𝙚𝙡𝙤𝙣𝙜 𝙩𝙤 𝙢𝙚 𝙣𝙤𝙬."

“𝙂𝙚𝙩 𝙤𝙛𝙛 𝙢𝙚, 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙥𝙨𝙮𝙘𝙝𝙤𝙥𝙖𝙩𝙝!” You retorted, attempting to break out of his hold by continuing to squirm. “𝙄 𝙝𝙖𝙩𝙚- 𝗠𝗻𝗵?!’

Yoriichi had grown tired of your resistance and decided to take drastic measures. He abruptly cut off your words by forcefully pressing his lips against yours, silencing your protests with a scorching, possessive kiss. He could feel your body stiffen in surprise, but he didn’t let that stop him. His grip on your wrists was firm, trapping you against the tree while his lips moved against yours with an intensity that bordered on desperation.

He deepened the kiss, his tongue forcing its way past your lips, claiming your mouth as his. He was determined to make you his, whether you wanted it or not.

You tried pushing him off, successfully breaking the kiss but not getting away.

Yoriichi allowed you to break off the kiss albeit with great reluctance. His expression darkened at your attempt to push him away, his grip on your wrists tightening to the point of pain. He leaned in closer to you, his voice low and dangerous.

"𝙔𝙤𝙪 𝙘𝙖𝙣 𝙨𝙩𝙧𝙪𝙜𝙜𝙡𝙚 𝙖𝙡𝙡 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙬𝙖𝙣𝙩," he said “𝘽𝙪𝙩 𝙄 𝙬𝙞𝙡𝙡 𝙗𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙠 𝙮𝙤𝙪, 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙝𝙖𝙫𝙚 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙖𝙨 𝙢𝙞𝙣𝙚. 𝙔𝙤𝙪'𝙧𝙚 𝙢𝙞𝙣𝙚, 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙧𝙚'𝙨 𝙣𝙤𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙘𝙖𝙣 𝙙𝙤 𝙖𝙗𝙤𝙪𝙩 𝙞𝙩 ."

You felt yourself slowly loosing consciousness, your worries fading away as well as Yoriichi’s voice, everything going black.

[fabdante]

@zutaraweek day 6, forge: it's 1994. you are at a party. and then you see a girl. and your soul remembers something: listen here (17 songs, 1 hour 9 minutes)

i've been thinking a lot about older internet. namely, old 8tracks playlists. and i thought it'd be fun to harvest a little of that nostalgia to make an old school fandom playlist meant to be listened to in order with a storyline and annotations!

song list with links and annotations under the cut (and if you liked this one, you can check out my longer zk playlist here)

~House of Metal by Chelsea Wolfe (You put your love inside the metal/You build the metal for your house): Tui and La. Moon and Ocean. Yin and yang. An eternal dance.

~Here She Comes by Slowdive (It's so lonely in this place): It’s 1994. He’s at a party. He doesn’t want to be. He looks up. And there she is.

~Home Soon by Vagabon (I’ll be home soon): Something remembers.

~Cinnamon by Jome (It’s a slow cinnamon summer/Your spell is pulling me under): It’s the last year of the 100 year war. The summer air is thick. Her smile’s the same. And something is happening that's far too sweet as they tumble towards the end of the world.

~First Light by Hozier (Could this be how every day begins?): A realization. A secret. A wish.

~Flaws by Daughter: She holds him after the lighting tore through him, after she saved him, as they watch the sky turn blue. What do you say after that? Besides what you want to, of course.

~Neptune by Sleeping at Last (I'm only honest when it rains/If I time it right, the thunder breaks/When I open my mouth/I wanna love you but I don’t know how): A realization. A horror. A little dream.

~Country Rain by Slowdive (I know I shouldn’t care/But I wish you were mine): They part. Not for the first time. Not for the last time.

~Spanish Sahara by Foals (I’m the ghost in the back of your head): Even after years, that summer won’t let go. Even after the years, she's as familiar as breathing.

~Lullabies by Yuna (Though you weren’t mine/You were my first love): A confession. A soft one.

~Fire in the Water by Feist (Nobody should see this/The freeness of the light): Knowledge that is learned cannot be unlearned. But things are seldom simple for them. It's never been simple for them.

~Cherry Tree by The National (Can we show/A little discipline?): What do we do with it? What have we ever done with it? The tangle of their lives, ever so complicated, and ever so woven. Maybe it's dangerous.

~Earth by Sleeping at Last (But I put it out of my mind/Long enough to call it courage): Wrong place, wrong time. That’s what it is.

~Good Day Sunshine by Slowdive: It’s 1994-It’s the dawn of time-It’s the 100 years war-It’s a cave between two cities-It’s-It’s-It’s-

~Samson by Regina Spektor (I loved you first/I loved you first): At least they’ll know. In the knot of his scar. In the tips of her fingers. In the glances, the letters, the comfortable silences side by side. At least they’ll know.

~Welcome Home (Reprise) by Radical Face: Maybe…maybe. Maybe now.

~When the Sun Hits by Slowdive (As the sun hits, she’ll be waiting/With her cool things and her heaven/Hey hey, lover, you still burn me/You’re a sun): It’s 1994. She’s at a party. She doesn’t want to be. She looks up. And there he is.

[heygerald]

In response to that last ask, this wasn't even requested, but it inspired me anyway! Consider this a glimpse of future Parker/Tom! ❤️🥰

Early morning sunshine beams through the room in the pinkish, orange hue stereotypical of the Pacific coast. It looks a bit like a movie scene; the luxurious down comforter covering her bare legs, the movie posters hung across the wall, interspersed with an array of post-it notes and Polaroid pictures that had been tacked up at random. Last night's clothes are strew over the window seat, her shoes having been kicked off towards the corner, and the book she has been reading is now discarded on the ground.

Tom had gotten home late from set, collapsing on the bed with a sigh as she listened to him talk about the day's scenes. Things were going better for him after the rocky patch of finding a new manager, and with Colt's new stunt company getting off the ground, their latest movie had been a rollercoaster of hard work that often bled into late nights. It was worth it, though, with how often Tom came home with a genuine smile—and so Parker was more than happy to rub his back as he talked—even if it kept her up into the early morning hours.

Parker has never been more comfortable as she dozes. The matress—eternally out of her price range—is the comfiest thing she's ever slept on, and the air is a perpetually chilled to the perfect temperature. The pillow smells a bit like lilac, but also a bit like sandalwood and oak, and as she takes a deep breath in, the bed comes alive behind her.

A warm hand snakes around her waist to tug her back against an even warmer chest. Boiling hot—from the very first moment she had ever touched him—it's no mystery why he sleeps in nothing but a small pair of boxer briefs.

Calvin Klein, of course.

"No," she says.

It never ceases to amaze her how little sleep he needs.

"It's morning," he says back, his breath tickling hair off of her neck. It's an obvious sort of statement though, and Parker sometimes feels like he's a dog waiting to be let out first thing in the morning. Though, the actual dog in the relationship respectfully stares from his bed in the corner of the room. "I gotta get up."

"No," she says again, eyes clenched tighter now. "It's Saturday."

The hand snakes under her shirt, skin against skin, and a small smile skirts across her face. "Come on, babe. You know I don't need beauty sleep. Plus, look how nice it is out."

She sighs. Tom has never been one to let things go, and she knows well enough that an early morning wake up does nothing to deter his persistence.

She turns in bed, his hand skating to the small of her back, and blinks up at him. He's gorgeous. Breathtakingly, stunningly, drop dead gorgeous without a lick of makeup or touch up to him, and she knows for a fact that she has drool on her face. She would detest him if she didn't love him as much as she did.

"Why do you always want to get out of bed?" she whines in a sleep rough voice. His mouth works into a small smile, and the hand brushes some hair out of her face. "You paid a lot for this bed, and it's nice and soft and comfy. Why would you ever want to get out of it?"

"Where was this attitude last night when I wanted to—?"

"Tom," she whines, even more pathetically now. It's too early for any of this. Yet, a fierce blush works its way across her face. Two years and she still wasn't used to being the person he would want to hold, let alone do that with. Wiggling closer, Parker bats her lashes at him as best she can. "Why don't we stay in bed longer and cuddle? We never cuddle."

"We cuddle every night."

"Yeah, but only because you think if you get a hand in my shirt I'll let you put it elsewhere," she says, and he doesn't even deny it. Just gives a husky, warm laugh before kissing her softly. "Come on, maybe you don't need beauty sleep, but I do."

His eyes roam his face. A hand skates her jawline. "No, you don't," he says. Then, with a sly smile. "Maybe just some concealer."

"Tom!" she laughs, swatting at him. It's no effort at all for him to duck his head down to her neck where he plants a handful of kisses. "Leave me and this beautiful bed alone."

"Maybe I want you to come with me."

"Maybe I want to cuddle with my handsome, superstar boyfriend since he'a always working anymore," she bats back, pouting as she does so. "Please?"

There's silence as he considers her proposal, gaze flickering to the large windows and the beautiful Californian morning outside it. She can hear the gears turning in his head.

"Give me an hour, and I'll workout with you after."

At that, his eyes narrow. "You'll watch me workout after, you mean."

Parker hedges, sleep still dragging her eyes. "I thought you liked to show off," she says instead of admitting that she would not, in fact, be doing any physical exercise. Not with him, anyway. She didn't fancy death by embarassment this early in life. "But if you really want I'll join you in yoga."

He lifted a brow. "Yeah?"

"After my coffee."

Tom watched her, eyes roving, hand rubbing circles into her spine. She used to shy away from moments like these—him this close, looking like that, while she had morning breath and bed head—but despite everything he had proven not to care about that sort of thing. Instead, when Tom looked at her, Parker could just tell that he was actually seeing her, rather than the imperfections.

His hand pulled her onto his chest in a single move. "Yeah, alright," he grumbled into her ear. "One hour."

And though he sounded so put off by it, when Parker looked at Tom, she saw him too. She saw the soft crinkles around his eyes and the warmth in their depth, just like she felt the smooth beat of his heart under her hand. A constant reminder that he was real, and he was very much hers.

Parker kissed him softly before intertwining her bare legs with his. The idea of their matching boxers made her smile, and when she settled into the crook of his neck, he was smiling too.

They lazed in bed, wrapped up in one another, watching the sunrise through sleep heavy eyes for one hour and thirty-seven minutes.

And when they finally did get up, Parker didn't mind at all making him his vegan protein shake, and though he acted like he was in a rush, Tom stood with his arms wrapped around her the entire time.

[greetingfromthedead]

Shepherd Story 3 (God!Knives x GN!Reader)

Plot: In a world where fallen gods live among you, there is the god of winter and death who is also eternally bound to you with body and soul. A sense of routine has arrived as you fulfill your duties and wait for his return.

Series: Shepherd. Check out Story 1 and Story 2 (smut)!

Pairing: God!Knives x GN!Reader

Raiting: Teen and up

Tags: fantasy!AU, god!AU, no use of "y/n", established relationship, gods, feathery plant, fated love, romance, legends, nature magic, reunion, intimacy, possessive behavior, tenderness, some fluff, angst, death, reincarnation

Word count: 4.6k

Author's Note: We had a blizzard here after a day of sunshine and 17 degrees so it made me think of this story again. Wrote this mostly while listening to Rachmaninoff, I highly recommend their dramatic pieces to accompany this little story. This AU is inspired by @triplesilverstar's god!AU.

His sister's presence has retreated again, opening the gates for the northern winds to howl across the lands beyond the god's domain. Tesla had brought summer and filled the hearts of all with joy and love. All but the god of winter and death, for his heart beats for only one person and one person alone. He has waited patiently for another cycle of this world and to be released from the confines of his demon infested home and reunite with his beloved. He makes it out of his shadow realm, passing the first human settlements. He is followed by a dark cloud of despair and winter's chill. His steps freeze the earth beneath, and his presence seizes the sway of grass as the moisture in them turns to ice. The drinking water for the horses forms jagged crystals on its surface as the god passes by a farm. The animals are whining restlessly, his presence unsettling them. The forests are silent, the ancient trees muffled by a blanket of snow, as the heartless man continues on his path, leaving destruction in his wake.

It is so cold. His fingertips have gone beyond pain, and he can barely feel them anymore. His body wants to seize up, but he pushes on. He will never give up; he will never stop moving. The darkness radiates from his chest; it is so heavy and empty, the vacuum left in his center yearns to be filled with your love. It is the only thing that will save him. The only thing that gives him meaning. It is the only thing that gives him hope. The thought of your warm touch lingers in his mind. Oh, to see your smile again. It would make everything else fade away. The color of your eyes would relieve his pain and bring him back to life. In every iteration, you are gorgeous to him. No matter what body you inhabit, he will always be captivated by your beauty. But still, he can look past the external appearance and see the true splendor within you. The breathtaking and captivating presence of your soul has tied him to you for eternity. The strings of faith will never be severed, no matter how many curses are placed upon you. He will always remain by your side, unwavering in his devotion.

He moves south, with blizzards and frost as his faithful followers, spelling death for those unprepared. Nature has gone so very quiet as he walks through the meadows and fields. The air grows colder and darker with every step he takes, and the little lifeforms hold their steaming breath as he passes by in fear that they will be reaped by the god of death himself. But he is not here for them. As he slowly approaches the southern lands, where he knows he will find you, a melody strokes his ear, soothing the despair that has been building up inside him. He stops for a moment, the brilliant light of the moon reflecting on the glimmering snow. He recognizes the siren song, which draws him closer. Two hearts singing as one in the stillness of the night. It is very far, a quiet melody to daunt his soul. But he knows you can feel it too; your soul is drawn to him to close the distance between you.

The souls of the dead sound like little bells to you, beckoning you closer. Their crystal clear chimes ring out, guiding you towards them. Tonight, as you fulfill your duties, you hear one calling out from the village over the pasture. Being met by the souls of the dead is never pleasant; knowing they lived a life and had hopes and dreams beyond what they had achieved fills you with sadness. They were people who leave behind mourners and heartbreak. But to hear a ghost call from so close to home stings you more sharply than any other encounter. Your body is asleep in your little cottage as your spirit crosses the green, grassy field as a fox. Your presence doesn't disturb the grass or the cattle. You drift to the house where an old woman has lived for all your life. You know her well; you gave her your dried herbs when she got ill, and you played catch with her grandson when you were both little. She moves through her yard with a slow shuffle, checking that the door of her chicken coop is closed before going to count the goats in the barn. She looks concerned while she performs her nightly routine. You take your human form to use your voice.

"Mrs. Claire," you say calmly and quietly as you watch her. She looks up, her eyes filled with worry.

"It's you," the old woman blurts with a shaking voice. "I knew the rumors were true!"

She backs away, expecting to be met by the little gate separating her little yard from the rest of the world, but instead just passes through it.

"Oh!" she exclaims with a shrill voice, befitting an old crone. She looks at her surroundings and herself.

"Yes, Mrs. Claire, I am afraid you have passed on." You answer her unspoken question, and she looks at you without responding. You make no attempt to go closer to her as you look at her beautifully maintained garden and the memories it must hold.

"What are you doing here, you witch?" She nearly spits out the last word.

"I am here to send you to the other realm so you can be born again with the flowers of spring," you say almost absentmindedly before turning a sharper gaze onto her. "Or I could leave you to roam the grounds for a while longer as a ghost."

"I do not trust you! You practice witchcraft!" she exclaims, her voice trembling with fear. "You even lured the god of death here to advance your own power! We saw it! You let him bring destruction to our land!"

"What will it be, Mrs. Claire? Will you come with me, or do you need more time to say goodbye?" You reach out your hand to her, ignoring her accusations. "The outcome will be the same."

"I shall not go with a creature of darkness! You are trying to lure me into a trap! You shall not capture me!" She clutches the scarf around her neck and backs away from you.

"Very well. I shall come back later." You give her a little nod with your head as a slight smile dances on your lips before turning and walking away.

"Your wickedness shall be punished!" The old woman calls after you, but you don't dignify her with a response as you follow the chime of a different soul, much further away. The black wings of a raven carry you to a little town further in the north. You perch on top of the church tower and look over the streets to see some spirits wandering the empty sidewalks below. The snow has covered everything in a thick layer of cold, shimmering white. The coughing echoing from the windows tells you your beloved god has been here before you. He must be close; you have felt his call for weeks now, urging you to find him. You look over the souls—some of them going about their business like they haven't realized their mortal coil is over, and others sounding out their prayers to whatever god they have devoted themselves to. The wind howls through the narrow alleyways, carrying with it the whispers of lost souls seeking redemption. Your purpose settles heavily on your shoulders, and you take flight again. You soar between the high building walls, letting the gust rip through your wings and scatter dark feathers into the abyss below.

Some of the dead watch in awe as you pass, their eyes filled with hope and longing for the freedom you possess. They reach out to touch your feathers and grasp the key you have provided. With tears streaming down their faces, they whisper their gratitude and prayers for your safe journey. With a glimmer of stardust, they disappear to return to the circle of reincarnation. You move on, knowing that their souls will now be reborn with a newfound sense of hope and purpose.

You spend the night shepherding the souls of the reaped into the afterlife, knowing that they are in good hands and will be born again soon. You followed the pull of your being as a roe deer through the forest, feeling the ancient magic guiding you towards the man you love most in all of your lives. You walk alongside him, but only the dead can see you, so you just blend in as one of his many shadows. Spirits, both neutral and malicious, follow him everywhere he goes, but you are there only to steal a glimpse. He moves so silently, his eyes trained on the path ahead. His face doesn't let on any emotion; he looks cold and calm. Almost dutiful. You know you will see him soon, but as dawn creeps over the horizon, you hurry back home to your sleeping body as a white rabbit, running across the fields and pastures.

He arrives again with frosted flowers covering your windows and gracing the surface of the puddles outside. The leaves of a creeping vine by your house collect jagged crystals on their edges. The air is still and the world is blanketed in a serene silence, the quiet crackle of the fire in the hearth providing the only sound. A wide smile graces your lips as you look at the approach of the god from your open door. Your heart is so full of joy and anticipation that it feels like it might burst. You have your arm outstretched as he gets closer, and he wordlessly takes your fingers into his cold hand. The chill of his touch sends a shiver down your spine. His lips press against the back of your hand, his freezing breath tingling your flesh. He cherishes the warmth of your skin and the way your free hand cups his cheek and lifts his chin. It makes life creep into him again to soothe the pain of frost in his chest. Your gorgeous eyes look at him so tenderly, no words need to be spoken to understand the mutual longing for each other. From the thousands of meetings you have had in the past, all the meaningful words have already been spoken in a hundred different languages, but none have ever felt as powerful as the silent exchange between your eyes in this moment. He lifts his head to step closer, your soft breath exiting as a white cloud from your lips. He moves the hand he still softly holds to his chest, his fingers wrapping around it as he presses it to where his heart used to be. He closes his eyes and whispers, "I miss you more than words can express, sweet Shepherd."

He feels the shadow of his heart start to beat again; it fills him with warmth and chases out the cold longing that births the northern winds. His whole body is enveloped in a sense of love and warmth. The blue marks grace his skin and leave you in awe, like they always do. You straighten up and reach to kiss his jaw line. This makes him open his steely eyes again and turn them on you. You can see the love and adoration in his gaze. The god of winter and death is gorgeous, with or without the marks, and you are overjoyed to call him yours. You can't help but smile as he pulls you into a warm embrace, melting away the coldness that usually surrounds him.

His lips find yours, capturing them in a tender dance, speaking of his longing and spilling the devotion he holds for you. Your hearts sing as one, and your souls are entangled for a single night before he must leave your side. Words don't need to be spoken at this moment. His skin feels warm again, and his embrace could be mistaken for human, just like all those thousands of years ago. He holds you tight, knowing that this fleeting moment is all you have.

You guide your lover inside your formerly warm house, but his presence grows the shadows and brings a chill no fire can warm. Yet you feel no cold . You are consumed by the passion of his touch, lost in the intensity of his gaze, and you realize that you would endure any darkness for just another fleeting moment with him. You would follow him into the depths of despair, knowing that his love is worth any sacrifice.

You stop as you reach the shaft of light that streams through the window, the remnants of daylight creeping into the shadow infested room. You turn towards him, your fingertips grazing the palm of his hand, teasing the promise of being entangled with his digits. You slowly trail them up along the veins of his arms, feeling the warmth of his skin beneath your touch. Your fingers linger on the soft feathers growing from his collarbones, feeling the gentle rise and fall of his chest with each breath he takes. You pause as you caress his features, admiring the peaceful expression on his face. You touch his birthmark and nose, your thumb tracing the curve of his lips. He leans into your touch, a hand covering yours as it rests on his cheek. His lips part, and a hum of enjoyment escapes his throat.

You look at his eyes, and they are all you can think about; his face is etched into your soul like it's your mirror. He is there in your heart and mind, forever present in whatever body you are born in. As you speak his name, it is the softest word you know, it leaves a sweet taste on your tongue. It's a name you'll never forget, no matter how cursed you are. Life after life after life, you will speak it again and see these beautiful eyes gazing back at you.

His other hand goes to your lower back to pull you closer until you are pressed against his chest, feeling his heartbeat against your own. His lips kiss your eyes and trace along your nose before they meet yours. His love is a force of nature—unyielding and unwavering. It's a love that transcends time and space, binding your souls together in an eternal dance of passion and devotion.

He holds your face tenderly in his hands, his thumb trailing over the curve of your lips before he leans down to kiss you softly. His warm hands are so tender against your skin, and you melt into his touch. Your heart races as you hold on to him, wishing with all your heart that he didn't have to go. The moment feels fleeting, but you know that the memory of his touch will stay with you.

"This unearthly love is yours alone. It is merciless and suffocating. But for you, my sweetling, I would die a thousand times over." His lips brush over your cheek, leaving behind a trail of tingling warmth as he speaks.

He pulls away, revealing a smile on his lips that makes your heart ache with longing. The feelings in your chest swell, and you struggle to find the words to express the depth of your emotions. As he walks away, you are left standing there, feeling both grateful for the time you shared and devastated by his departure.

"Wait!" you call out and follow him along the path leading away from your house. You know the rays of sunshine creep over the roof of your house, starting to paint your frosted yard in a golden shimmer. You catch up to him, and he looks down gently as you grab his hand and squeeze it tightly.

"I love you. With everything I have. I love you. I always will. And this isn't fair. What they did to you… to us. It is cruel and unjust. And yet, here we are, standing together. I wish you could stay, but this is already proof that even though we fell, they lost." You look into his icy eyes and see the determination and resilience that will carry you both through the challenges until you see each other again. You caress his cheek and gently pull him closer to place another kiss on his lips. The warmth of his embrace envelops you, and you feel grateful for every moment spent with him.

"There they are! So it is true!" A murmur of different voices skips across the grass, and you look to see some men coming around the corner of your cottage. Your eyes glance over them to see that they carry weapons, mostly hand axes and spears, but a few have their swords drawn.

"So they are a witch! Conspiring with gods and demons!" An outroar ripples through the group of men, and you can assume there are more of them behind the corner.

"You have lured winter to our doors! You brought hunger and death to our land! Prepare to face the consequences of your treachery!" A different voice speaks up; it belongs to a man with crude leather armor and a sword.

You look wide eyed at the people you have known for your entire life. Among them are youngsters you used to play with, men who would greet you on the streets, and neighbors you have brought back from death's door. And now they all stand before you, ready to seek justice for the suffering brought to this land. The god shifts to stand in front of you, hiding you behind his mass of feathers reaching from his back. He doesn't speak a word as he glares at the mob, who has come with a thirst for blood.

This feels familiar. Glimpses of ancient times flash before your eyes. The way you prepared for battle against the gods of war. The way you wielded your gleaming sword with fierce determination and a heart full of rage. Your trusty extension is no longer with you; it has been replaced by a weak and mortal body not fit for fighting. You now stand among other mortals, stripped of your former strength and power.

You reach out your hand to touch your lover's back as a sign to stand down, but as your fingertips touch the feathers of his wings, you feel a surge of pain run through your body. You realize he has lingered by your side for too long; you are out of time. You pull back before he can rip at the threads holding your body and soul together.

"Go. Hide in the forest." His cold voice speaks without turning his head toward you. "I will take care of them."

You look around the broad back to see the mob move closer; it looks like every man from the nearby villages has gathered together to hunt you down. You back away from your lover to head to the dark wall of trees beyond your yard, hoping to find safety and escape the angry mob. It gets colder as you distance yourself from the god. The flimsy shawl doesn't offer you much protection against the biting wind that seems to be raising around you, picking up the light dusting of snow.

You hear more shouts and yells behind you, but the blood rushing in your head drowns out the rest. Where will you go now? Where can you run to and survive? The answers are not clear, but you know one thing for sure: You must keep moving. You need to get away from it all. As you can nearly duck into the shadows of the forest, you barely manage to pull away from the swing of an axe. You fall backwards into the crunching moss covering the forest floor. The frost underneath your fingers feels painful as it creeps beneath your nails. You see a few men coming towards you, including the one with the axe, and you scramble to your feet again.

The usually comforting forest is now filled with a sense of impending danger. It is filled with more than just shadows and your lover's demons. It reeks of hatred and blood lust. You run as fast as you can back towards your little yard and see your beloved look back at you with fear in his eyes. As the people close in on him, their weapons leave no marks on his skin. The god knows you are being cornered, and while he is immortal, you can be snatched away with ease. The candle of your life is flickering due to his presence alone as you run towards him. He needs to act fast. His fingers grab the neck of the man closest to him, and while usually the cold grasp of winter would be enough to snuff out a life like his, this time the puny mortal keeps fighting for his last breath in a desperate attempt to survive.

The god of winter and death realizes the warmth in his chest. It is you. Your presence has ignited spring within him as it should, his heart beating within his chest, robbing his shadowy powers. His presence alone isn't enough to protect you from these savages this time. Your love hinders him from laying waste to what threatens you.

He breaks the neck of the man he is holding and moves on with a speed unmatched by any human. The god tears through the immediate danger surrounding him before charging at the attackers on your heels. His wrath grows with every life he takes. He is determined to protect you at all costs. His feathers brush your cheek as he passes you, and you fall to your knees. You feel the fragile bond between yourself and this form fraying. He loves you to death. The god knows he is killing you. But he cannot stop, for your safety is his top priority. He has to secure you before he can leave your side. He must protect you from the hands of these fiends. He has failed you once before; he cannot allow it to happen again. He has to get away from you. Destiny and fate tease him with the dilemma of death as he rips through the mortal flesh of a man with a raised spear. His chest and feathers are covered in splatters of blood as he moves on to the next one. The symphony of violence plays in his ears, drowning out any thoughts of mercy or remorse. The only thing driving him forward is the primal instinct to keep you safe, no matter the cost.

The world is shut out as you hear a pair of footsteps approach. You raise your eyes to see a young man with his sword drawn. You want to run away; you need to scream or escape, but your strength has been torn from your weak body by the god of death. You kneel in front of him, your eyes begging for mercy, hoping that he will spare your life. In his gaze, you see fear and hatred. The curse you bear has been long forgotten by any mortal being. You cannot blame him for the dread he feels. The god of winter and death came for you; his presence introduces a bone-chilling cold that ruins crops and brings darkness to the southern land. The man before you demands your soul as payment for what he believes you have done to this world. You will find no mercy in his heart. He raises his sword and plunges it down into your chest.

Your hand grabs the blade as pain sears through your body. The man disappears from your sight, replaced by a display of beautiful feathers. You fall backwards, the tip of the weapon digging into the frozen ground below as blood paints the grass in vivid crimson. As your vision blurs, an arm wraps around your back, pulling you into a warm embrace. Your eyes look up towards the heavens, and a fleeting thought of cursing the other gods crosses your mind before the blue sky is replaced by eyes of the same color. Your hand, that's not bleeding around the blade, reaches up to gently touch his face.

The god grabs the hilt of the sword with his free hand as he watches the life quickly drain out of you. Is it the blade or the touch of his skin that does it? He does not know. Your being is unraveled as he leans closer, your vision fading to black. You wish to leave some words to him, but the breath escaping your lungs carries nothing but silence.

You are gone before his lips reach yours, so he hovers above them. He will not steal a last kiss from this body; you aren't there anymore. It is little more than a prison for the soul. He leans his forehead against yours, still clutching the sword and pressing you into his embrace. You are gone, leaving just a shell behind. You took his heart with him, and all the warmth you had filled him with seeps out of him with the tears he sheds, leaving only cold emptiness. The outstretched mess of wings that served to protect you start to grow blades of ice in-between the long feathers. Shadows gather around the god as hatred fills his mind. The down on his collarbones and neck grows into larger feathers, forming more wings as he lifts his enraged gaze up towards the few remaining people brave enough to face down the god of death. The people cower in fear, knowing that their fate now lies in the hands of a vengeful deity. His face turns monstrous, the eyes dark as the night, and feathers start to cover his face. He bares his elongating fangs at them. Shadows start to bubble up from between the wings, forming faces and clawed hands. The creatures of darkness escape the god and slither to the ground. They slink along the frosted ground, leaving a trail of ice in their wake. The sky darkens as the shadows grow longer until they reach the mortals. They freeze in terror as the creatures surround them, reaching out their hands to grab at them. Their souls are ripped from their meek bodies and consumed by the icy demons.

With a roar that shakes the earth, the god unleashes his full power, engulfing the land in darkness and merciless blizzards. The beastly deity bellows a deafening cry of grief that echoes through the meadows and forests. It skips over rivers and lakes. It shakes the mountains and leaves a sense of dread in the hearts of everyone across the lands. A chilling reminder of his immense power and wrath. The storm rages around him, spreading snow and demons in its wake. In the middle of the deathly horror is your latest body, frozen in time forevermore.

The beast stands up from the cold cradle he has created and chooses to move on, leaving destruction and chaos in his path. The grief robbing him of his human form, transforming him into a monster of pure rage and darkness. His empty chest bleeds with the longing of a heart that will never beat without you, consumed by the grasp of vengeance and hatred. Every step leaves frost and shadows behind; anything touched by the feathers gets ripped to shreds by the hidden blades of ice. He is searching again. Waiting for you to be reborn, to hear the siren song of your soul. It is so cold again.

Did you like this? Go check out my MASTERLIST and drop a follow for any and all future projects!

[beeandheroddobsessions]

Bless The Telephone

Pairing: Elvis x f!reader

Summary: On a day where the reader feels more than alone, the telephone comes to the rescue.

Warnings: Hurt comfort, lonliness, self-doubt. let me know if I missed any!

A/N: My heart is broken at how much i had to remove because of tumblrs’ character limit. Worry not, I linked the original full verson at the end for those interested! The song below, Bless the telephone, was the insipiration for this piece. The original by labi, and the cover by sperpent with feet are two of my faorite songs and they both fit so well. you don’t have to listen to either but i highly recomend listening to one or the other. It’ll set the tone!

Today was not a good day. You sat, alone and tired. The house had never seemed so empty and colorless. Honestly, it was a sad sight. The clouds in the sky were identical to the one looming over your head. They all seemed to mock you as you searched for sunshine within the desolate space. That gray sky filled with rain appears to laugh at you as you tried to find a resolution. There isn't anything for you to do except sit and think.

The words that float through your head are only comforting for a moment. It starts innocently enough with your best friend, Mr. Elvis Presley himself.

You can't help but think of his ultramarine orbs and how they match your current mood. The thought is enough to make you giggle. Next, it's that award-winning smile; there's something about it that leaves a warmth spreading through your body. When you see it, you're home. He is your home. That little thought confuses you. Where did that come from? you ask yourself. You push it aside as you continue to ponder, which brings you to his cheeks. No matter how much he's grown into himself, they've managed to stay chubby, almost cherub-like. Things begin to look a bit brighter as you think of him. Of course, it doesn't stop there. You mull over how he squeezes your sides when he hugs you or never strays far when you are together. His voice, god, that voice. The sound is butter-smooth and secure, truly a gift from above. When it graces your ears, nothing compares. Everything makes sense; When he sings, it's something angelic, and when he speaks, you can't help but conclude that his voice is why the stars align or the sun shines bright.

That's when it all comes crashing down. You realize you love him. At this moment, it is abundantly clear. You are so deeply in love with your best friend. There's a pang in your chest as you realize the source of your agony. It becomes a little harder to breathe, and your eyes sting as your mind shifts gears—the soft drumming of the rain against the windows is the only sound you hear as you delve into self-destruction. What if he doesn't feel the same? What if I'm stuck as his best friend. Something ear-piercing interrupts your attack on yourself. You glance up and wonder what has released you from the cage that is your mind—the Telephone. Though you aren't in any speaking mood, hearing a voice other than your own is an opportunity you can't pass up.

The ringing stops, you fear you've missed your chance to escape. A moment passes, but before you can settle back into your stupor, the phone begins to ring again. This time, it sounds as though it's begging you to answer. You wonder who it could be; a telemarketer? Your mother? A misdial? Either way, you refuse to miss the chance at interaction, so you lift the receiver off the hook. Then, you hear it, the sweet sound that brings you solace.

"Y/N? You there?" Your breath hitches, and your mouth seems to malfunction. A second's passing feels like an eternity, but you manage to choke out a response. "Yes, E, I'm here." There's a pause that leaves an unsettling feeling in the air. "How are things with you, darlin'?" He asks. You twirl the phone's cord as you bite back a smile. "Things are just fine, El. How are you?" Elvis lets out a light chuckle " I know that ain't true, baby." Frozen, you are absolutely frozen.

Baby? That's never let his mouth in regards to you. Sure, he's got his share of nicknames for you, but none so intimate.

"What do ya mean, E?" You murmur out. He huffs, "Things can’t be fine for you 'cause they ain't fine for me."

You’re all ears now. "What's wrong, Elvis? Somethin' happen?" another pause, "Y/N..." he says, soft and low. You wait for him to continue. "Y/N, I just need you to listen, okay?"

Now your mind is running at a mile a minute. Did something happen? Does he have a girl now? "Y/N?" You shake your head to clear your thoughts. "Yes? Sorry, I'm still here; I'm listening. What is it, El?"

"Baby, listen,I'm in love with ya. So damn in love, it hurts. It hurts when you're far, when I can't hug you, when all I've got is a shirt with your perfume on it, even when I don't hear your voice. All of it hurts, baby. You don't have to say nothin' if you don't feel the same. I've waited all day long to hear from ya, now that I have the time, I don't want to waste it. W-We can pretend I never said anything. I just needed to-" 

"Elvis!” You interrupt his rambling.“I feel the same way too. I’m in love with you" you say, a smile forming on your lips. "You messin' with me, doll? 'cause that ain't funny." You shake your head as if he could see it.

"No, Elvis, I'm not jokin'. You take me away from the feeling of being alone. Without you, I'm lost. I love you, so much." He lets out a breath of relief. "Can I come see ya, baby?" If you smile any harder, you'll get stuck.

"Of course, honey. Please be safe-" The dial tone replaces your love's voice, and you let out a small laugh. You stand in the middle of the room, processing what happened. Before you know it, there's a knock at the door. You just about rip it off the hinges. There he stands, in all his glory.

No words are exchanged. He pulls you into a bone-crushing hug, peppering little kisses down your neck. He floods your senses; the soft earthy smell accompanying him is almost too much. as you stand in his embrace, you look up at the sky.

The rain has stopped, and the clouds have gone. The sun smiles down on two halves now made whole. This time, the squeeze on your heart and the tears in your eyes are bliss. The two of you part, and he makes his way inside, still holding your hand.

You pass the device that brought your sunshine as he navigates through the hall into the front room. Elvis plops down on the brown sofa, dragging you with him. His arms fall around your waist naturally, and his head finds a home in the crook of your neck. "I'm sorry I waited so long to say somethin' satnin." You find yourself denying his blame. "You're timing was perfect; thank you for calling me, El."

He lifts his head, and those icy blues meet your love-stricken orbs. His gaze drops to your lips and quickly flickers back up to your eyes. You cup his face, fingers grazing over stubble as you lean in. As marshmallow soft lips meet your own, you have only one thought.

Bless the telephone.

Taglist: @crash-and-cure @tacozebra051 @tommydarlings @nottanasworld @elvisshowusyourpelvis @marriedtopresley @18lkpeters @thatbanditqueen @pennyroyalcreep @kendralavon7 @lov4gor3

[oceangirl24]

Find the Word- We're back!

Thanks so much for the tag and for doing this @axolotlsupremacyowo!

Find the words you're given somewhere in your works. Then give the people you tag a set of words to find. No worries if you can't find them all.

My words: tile, gown, foundation, fuss, overlook, sniff, infinite, trouble, clay, personality

Your words:

chowder, clatter, visage, eternal, skeptical, irate, jaggernaut, lime, superhero

Tagging: @justanotherpersonwhowrites @tsunderesalty @mrsmungus @fattybattysblog @danceswithdarkspawn @udaberriwrites @the-orion-scribe @amberlide @stealing-your-kittens @violetrose-art @winterlovesong1 @aleksandriel @kayedium-writes @bees-and-sunshine @sliebman10 @mikaharuka @axolotlsupremacyowo

This is an open tag for anyone who wants to play. If you wanted be tagged and I missed you, throw something at me. If you'd like to be included in future tags, let me know!

The Return: The Christmas List

"Like, would you date someone Jon's age?"

"It would depend on the person." She could not be direct any more than he could be.

Shawn scratched his fingernail across the tile of the kitchen island, unable to look her in the eyes. "What if the person is Jon?"

The Return: Cult Fiction Revisited

The way Jon laid in the hospital bed was same the way he laid after the motorcycle accident. There were wires stuck to his chest coming up through the neck of his hospital gown. An oxygen cannula aided his breathing. The only the casts and bandages were missing.

Jon was as still and lifeless as he was back then.

Saudade: Fishing for Answers

It took Riley a long time before she could give voice to her fears. "That they'll start fighting and being unhappy with each other. I'm afraid they'll end up divorced."

Letting out a slow breath, Maya watched her breath dissipate in the cold air around them. She didn't want to admit that Riley's fear was attaching itself to her, but it was. If the foundations of two of the most solid relationships in existence could be shaken and cracked, what hope did her mom and Shawn have?

The Return: Questions and Answers Part II

"Yeah, I know the job's been bad," Cory admitted. He had been holding back his own concerns for the past several months, not wanting to alarm those close to him if he was wrong. "Listen, I'm only tellin' you this- Topanga would kill me if she knew- but sometimes I create problems at school that force Jon to come down and deal with."

Shawn didn't know whether to laugh or be upset. "Seriously?"

Cory gripped his knees with hands. "Yeah, I mean, nothing major that would cause real problems for anyone. I just make a fuss knowing he won't ignore me."

"You are kinda of hard to ignore when you make a fuss."

Saudade: Preparations

Shawn forced his attention away from the bike; they had to leave for the hospital now. He stood and pulled the key out of his pocket that Audrey had left him. The key was still on the same Pentagon keyring Jon had way back then. He checked the bike over once more to make sure everything was ready to run. That's when he noticed something was missing.

He smiled as he recalled the time he tried to take the bike to Audrey's but couldn't get it started because he overlooked a small but important detail-the key.

The Return: The Keys

"Cor, look around." Shawn gestured to the crowded place they were in. "Who don't you see here?"

Cory looked around suspiciously, then looked back at Shawn, and shrugged. "That blonde lady from the park," he said, repeating how Riley had referred to Miss Tompkins. He drew curious looks from both of the men at the table.

Shawn sniffed. "You're welcome."

Autumn in Philadelphia: Cory and Shawn's Miracle Soap: Tuesday

(the closest I have to infinite is eternal)

An ear-splitting scream shook the Matthews' house early Tuesday morning. Amy grimaced at the eternal shriek as she set a plate full of hot cakes down in the center of the kitchen table.

Birthday Wishes and Valentine Kisses: Accidental Discoveries

Shawn spun around ready to fight. This was an instinctual reaction to being approached from behind. Growing up in the Pink Flamingo Trailer Park taught him that being ready to fight was the only way to avoid being pummeled.

It was good thing he repressed the urge to blindly swing, however. If he had, he would have connected with Brad's stomach.

And he would have been in a lot of trouble.

No clay. Hmm...

Flashbacks: Better Days

While he favored the bikinis worn by the girls on MTV's Beach House, he knew Audrey would not be comfortable in one in public and they were also going to a family theme park for young kids, not the Jersey Shore. Begrudgingly he put the suit back and resumed searching.

At one point he thought he found the one- a pearlescent two-piece. He had to struggle to reach it as it was shoved in the back behind a bunch of one-piece suits with weird ruching and ruffled skirts. He was terribly disappointed when he finally got it into the light.

It wasn't even a bikini; it was an off-white one-piece.

No doubt Audrey would make this boring garment look like haute couture, but Jon couldn't stomach the idea of putting her into something so plain. He shoved it back where he found it and continued to look for something that matched her personality.

[storiesofsvu]

Coffee in the park with Liz, please and thanks

Ah!! bless you!!

Elizabeth Donnelly x reader some language, completely unedited, pure fluff. Lort i miss Liz. Also this is only a hour past midnight meaning it counts for Ms Judith Light's birthday, right? LOL ETA; Because im an idiot and forgot. covers the coffee shop sq for @adarafaelbarba bingo!

It was technically still winter and you knew you were due for another cold snap later on in the month, but today happened to be one of those miraculously balmy, warm and sunny days. The days that you could actually forgo the full winter parka, instead of seeing your breath, sunbeams shined through the air and there was an overall sense of joy and freedom through the city. Days like today you wanted to take full advantage of the sunlight, knowing that it might be back to grey skies and chilly temps within the next twelve hours.

You knew Liz wasn’t in court today, it was a paperwork day and that likely meant she hadn’t left her chambers since she got there that morning. You wandered your usual route through the courthouse halls, leaving a gentle knock on her door before pushing it open and sure enough she was behind her desk, empty Tupperware beside her. She glanced up, her face shifting into a warm smile when she noticed it was you approaching her desk.

“And to what do I owe this lovely surprise.” She asked, a hand caressing at your cheek as you leant down to kiss her hello.

“Figured I’d swing by.”

“It’s a little late for lunch.” She gestured to the empty container, “though I am eternally grateful for those leftovers.”

“You’re welcome.” You grinned, “and I know, I was thinking coffee.”

“Well I don’t see a tray in your hand.” She teased and you laughed, grabbing at her hand.

“Nope. Because we’re going out!”

“Sweetheart I’ve got to finish this.”

“Yeah? For when?” You eyed her suspiciously and her cheeks pinked.

“Next Thursday.”

“Exactly.” You pressed a tender kiss to her cheek, “so we’re gonna hit Blue Spoon because you never stop bragging that they make your cappuccino the best in the city, and I’ve been craving their homemade chocolate chip cookies and I want a batch for dessert.”

“And then?” She raised a brow and you chuckled, watching her slip her coat back on and pick up her purse.

“A walk through the park. It’s really nice out today and your office barely has a window, you need some sunshine.”

“Are you saying I’m dull?” She teased and you feigned offence.

“Never in my life.”

Smiling, you accepted her hand in yours, fingers interlacing easily as you made your way out of the courthouse in perfect sync. Elizabeth had to admit, even just seeing you in the middle of a long work day made her mood skyrocket, she was forever grateful that you worked mainly from home and made your own schedule, able to work around hers when needed and you never once lectured her from working the long hours required. You’d simply show up to surprise her, leave a little treat on her desk for her to find later, make sure she had a healthy lunch to eat, or even just shoot off a text accompanied by a photo of whatever you were doing that day, or ingredients for dinner that she had to look forward to that night.

But her favourites were always these little outings, where she got to slip out of the Judge role and into just being her, where she knew no one from work would bother her since you were at her side, ones where she got to hold you hand, listen to you talk about your day, what you were excited for that coming weekend.

You practically bounded into the café, greeting the barista with a warm smile and they started your usual drink order without even having to ask. Elizabeth had always been courteous and friendly with the staff, but you were always so enthusiastic when you chatted with them that she was pretty sure they liked you better nowadays. She secretly knew that was confirmed when there were an extra three cookies in the package you bought.

She let out a happy sigh when the two of you stepped into the park, linked arm in arm as you sipped at your beverages. You’d obviously picked the perfect time, late enough that the usual lunch crowd would have returned to their offices, and the kids were still in school, so that even despite the warmer day, the park wasn’t that crowded. The sun beamed through the air, warming both of you even more than the love and coffee surging through your veins, birds were chirping, swooping through the sky and there was a general overall feeling of happiness in the park. The younger kids that were playing giggling and playfully shrieking as they ran through the grass. It was as if the sense of coming change of seasons was making everyone just that much more positive.

You and Liz didn’t talk much during your walk, just there to enjoy each other’s company, coffee and the fresh air. There were a few comments here or there about where to have dinner that Friday, Liz wanted to take you out, treat you to a special night, even suggesting a nice shopping trip on Saturday. Blushing, you reminded her she didn’t need to do things like that, she was stuck with you at this point. She laughed in return, leaving a kiss on the tip of your nose,

“One of these days you’ll eventually remember that I simply like to spoil the people I love.”

“We both like to spoil in our own ways.” You grinned back and she chuckled.

“A cup of coffee or a home cooked meal means just as much if not more than anything luxurious, you know that, right?”

“You always say you already have everything you want, so yes, I remember.”

“I have you.” She smiled, stealing a kiss, “what more could I possibly want?”

“You’re going to make me either cry or throw up, I’m not sure which.” You laughed and she playfully rolled her eyes, though it turned into an actual eye roll when her phone pinged from her pocket. Picking it up she swiped through the notification, “duty calls?”

“Just Casey, whatever advice she wants she can wait until we’ve finished the loop.”

You felt yourself trying not to beam at the way Elizabeth repocketed her phone, it was work, there was always a chance it was urgent and she’d get a mini lecture from the prosecutor later on, but it didn’t matter. Right now she had you on her arm, a half full coffee and the sunshine was restoring her energy to get through the rest of the day. Though it wasn’t much longer before the two of you reached the end of the loop, emerging onto the street facing the courthouse and her phone pinged once again. You let out a little giggle, tossing your coffee cup into the trash.

“Little miss popular.” You teased, “Casey again?”

“Alex.” She rolled her eyes, “but on Casey’s behalf.”

“Well,” you nudged her, “go. And see what they’re doing this weekend, we should have them over for dinner again soon.”

“I’ll ask.” She cupped your cheek softly, leaning in to kiss you tenderly, “I love you.”

“I love you too.”

“Thank you for the coffee, and the dose of sunshine.” She grinned, “though you give me enough of that without actually having to go outside.”

“Puke Liz. Puke.” You deadpanned before laughing, surging to kiss her again, “you’ll be home for dinner?”

“Of course.” She smiled, “what’s on the menu?”

“I fell down a Pinterest hole, picked up stuff for enchiladas.”

“Sounds delicious.” She was barely finished her sentence before her phone began ringing and she let out a low swear, kissing your cheek, “I’ll see you later.”

You squeezed her hand once more before you went your separate ways. Even with the interruption Elizabeth felt a million times better after seeing you, she always did, and she knew that no matter what, she always would. You were the only midday break she needed, the only sunshine required, the warmth in the middle of a cold winter, as long as she had you on her side, she was set for life.

___________

@svulife-rl @anya-casablanca @mickey-gomez @naturalxselection @yesterdaysgone @momlifebehard @alexusonfire @alexxavicry @rainbowelshrhian @daddy-heather-dunbar @evilregal2002 @alcabots @ladysc @dextur @disneyfan624 @kdaghay @swimmingstudentchaos891 @borg-queer @billiedeannovak

[mak3itr7ght]

Pair : Jeong Hoseok x fm!reader (Pirates of the Caribbean AU)

Words count: 2197

Warnings: mention of death by drowning, MANY SPOILERS about the movies.

Author's note: This is from a whole story I wrote months ago🫶 hope you'll enjoy it~ Happy birthday to our sunshine💚

For a better experience listen to this one, you won't regret it🤭

Y/n managed to stop the phantom crew on time. She observed Jack and Elizabeth escaping through a rope. The duo has been threw up at sea and rescued by the Black Pearl's crew.

Y/n smiled in relief knowing that her friends would be safe. They would end up beating Beckett as well, now that Jones was out of the games.

Finally, Hoseok's death was avenged and his soul could have left the chest and rest in peace and with it, Angie's too.

The girl leaned against the dirty main mast of the Flying Dutchman, the crew was surrounding Will's body, from which they were taking out the heart.

"The Dutchman must have a captain" that was the rule, after all.

Y/n felt her body heavy. She was wounded, not seriously. She was tired, though, mentally. She couldn't andle anymore a life without her lover. The only thing that kept her alive was have revenge, and she got it. Then, there was no other reason to be alive.

The young woman felt the coarse and cold wood against her shoulders' blades, through her blouse's delicate fabric. She gave her red jacket to Jack, asking him to take it back on the Pandora (Hoseok's ship) and leave it there, in his cabin, where it belonged to.

She let herself sliding down the wooden surface, sitting on the deck. The ship was sinking in the ocean, the crew would survived, it was part of their curse, and so would Will, who became one of them. But she wouldn't. Y/N was still human, and she chose the best way to die. Her life, sweetly took away by the water, which accompanied her day and night in the last four years.

She felt her body under the water, her hair floating above her head, the air leaving her longs, replaced with water, a tear escaped from her left eye, dispersing and blending into the blue.

She felt the sun's warmth getting distant, along with its light

Which could hardly reflect on the girl's pupils which she kept wide open even if the salty water made them burn. She wanted to admire the ocean for one last time.

Her life flowed before her eyes, savoring the most beautiful moments she had with her friends, and the small time she had with Hoseok before his death.

She didn't move even if she was suffering, she kept her composure animated by the thought of seeing him again, finally, and then dark, no sound, no perception, the mind disconnecting from the body. An eternal moment.

The sound of the waves spread again in the air, the sun's rays hitting the wet skin, stimulating the young woman's senses. Y/N opened her eyes again, slowly, taking a deep breath, she couldnt understand why she was still breathing. She felt knockles brushing against her cheek and her head resting on someone's lap. She looked up, spotting a shape, the sun shining right behind it.

'Hey'

That voice so familiar, sounded like a melody. Y/n smiled in response.

'I made it' She said in a whisper.

Hoseok kept caressing her face while admiring her with pure love and a sweet smile decorating his asian features. He was wearing a white bluse, white pants, no shoes, his hair were longer, slightly wavy, moved gently by the breeze, his skin, tanned reflecting perfectly the sun's light, his dark eyes that, even in backlight, sparkled.

He looked like an angel, he was an angel, no one could believe that, during his life on Earth, he was the fiercest pirate of the seven seas.

Y/n relaxed all her muscles in that moment, enjoying his touch and the sight.

She extended one hand to move a stread of hair from his eyes and, reluctantly, sat back up,

'I never doubted about that' He whispered calmly, while wrapping an arm around her shoulders to pull her in his embrance.

Y/n could finally dig her fingers in those soft dark hair, smelling his scent of soap and saltiness on his smooth, golden skin. She buried her head in the crook of his neck, leaving some kisses, while holding him tighter. She had no intention of leaving him anymore.

Hoseok did the same, leaving some kisses on her head while a hand stroked softly her back, the other her wet hair. The couple stayed like that for what seemed hours, didn't care anymore about time. They were in the other world, after all, there was no hurry anymore.

The man's expression darkened slightly, while pulling back. He kept holding her face in his hands, observing her, admiring each feature of hers.

'Come with me' He breathed. She nodded in silence.

'We're in the other world. I wonder how it works here..last time he came here I was still alive' she added, chuckling.

'Vieni con me' Disse ad un tratto. Y/n annuì.

Hoseok smiled, amused.

The two walked along the shore, hand in hand. They stayed silent most of the time. The white sand curshing against the waves' foam. The wind moved the tropical plants' leaves, which signed the edge that separated the beach with the island's heart.

They reached the top of a cliff.

Y/n looked out to enjoy the panorama before turning towards her lover, the wind messing up her hair.

'We're free, finally' She smiled broadly.

Hoseok smiled back and got a step closer. His eyes teary and Y/n got the feeling that those tears weren't about joy, but something else. Her smile faded.

'What is it?' She tilted her head.

'You had a task...when you were alive' He started.

'Yes, get a revenge for your death, take your place as a guardian, nominated by the Brethren court and protect everyone. I did it all' She pointed out, raising a brow, wondering why he chose to talk still about that topic.

'I sacrifaced myself to save Jack as well, according to the Code, the title now belongs to another pirate that will be chosen in the court. It'over. We don't have to worry about that anymore, Hoseok' she added, taking his hands and squeezing them.

The man shook her head. "It's not over, Y/n' he corrected.

'W-what the hell do you mean by that?' The girl felt agitation increasing in her body, she couldn't believe that, even if she was dead, she could feel those sensations.

Hoseok scosse la testa. 'Non é finita, Y/n' Corresse.

'You have to protect the seven seas, yes, that's your duty, your time to die hasn't come yet. I can't let you die like this just for our selfishness..' He explained.

'But...but-' She stepped back, loosening the grip on his hands to run a hand through her hair in frustration.

'I don’t understand, Hoseok. When we came in the chest to rescue Jack, you told me that, once I finished the task, we could have been together. That's what made me return in that shitty world again and not remaning in the chest with you!' She shouted. She felt her nose itching, her "heartbeat" accelerating, her stomach burning.

Hoseok got closer to her and rested his forehead against hers.

'Your duty was to protect the sea' He pointed out.

'No. It isn't... I died. I protected the pirate lord i had to protect. The Code speaks-' She objected.

'You had the chance to escape the Dutchman, you chose to die on purpose to be here. It doesn't count' He stated, his voice trembling.

'Listen I don't want you to go' he hesitated, feeling his throat hurting. 'But your destiny is already written, if you don't comeback there, there will be chaos and death' He explained. 'I saw things, Y/n. I saw bed things happening in a world without you, and good things in a world with you' He kept speaking not caring anymore about the tears streaming down his cheeks.

She cried in silence, looking down and listening to him.

'I'll be here, waiting for you, for eternity. I'll guide you, as i always did. As i did when i had to bring you in Davy Jones' chest, as i did taking you to Isla de caja, making you meet my crew... just promise-' he hesitated again. 'Promise me that you'll be happy, that you'll live at the fullest' Desperation in his voice, he was internally fighting against his own wishes and the great good.

Y/n started sobbing louder. 'That's not fair' She cried out.

'We will meet again. You know that my heart is yours' Hoseok leaned in to place a soft kiss on her forehead.

She cupped his face pulling him towards her. Their lips meeting with a certain range, without the intention to break that moment. The girl let her finger bury in his hair while the contact intensified.

She was the one who pulled back first, grudgingly, but she knew that she had to do it otherwise she would send everyone to fuck themselves and let her selfishness win. She admired his features once again, her eyes travelling along his beautiful almond-shaped eyes, his perfect pointy nouse, his heart-shaped lips slightly parted to regain the lost oxygen.

Y/n felt more alive there, by his side, in the overworld, then among the living people, living a life that she didn't even felt like hers anymore, that she had to chose in order to rescue Hoseok, at the beginning of the Journey, and, after losing him in front of her eyes, to get her revenge, escaping from the remorse that she was unable to save him.

She must live, something or someone above them decided that and there were no ways to escape that fate. Both Y/n and Hoseok had to accept it. One thing was sure, it wasn't a goodbye.

'Once you'll be on the Pandora, look in my cabin, at the desk's drawers, especially the last one, there is a double bottom. You'll find something useful. Wear my jacket, my hat, fight with my sword, be the captain of my crew, sail with my ship, protect the Code, the pirate lord you've been assigned to and live, live for me, for yourself, for us' Hoseok said with a more serious but still soft tone, like he was commanding her to do that.

He smiled after that, trying to reassure her. She forced herself to smile back

'That bloody smile of yours' She whispered.

'It will be the reason I'll wake up every morning' She stated, taking his hand and placing it on her chest. 'This heart will restart beating only for you' she eventually kissed the back of his hand.

The man brushed the knuckles of that same hand against her cheekbone, wiping her tears. He felt a pang in his stomach and he was cursing, in his mind, against whoever decided to take her away from him. He didn't want her to go. She was his everything. He felt the burden to be reason why she suffered this much, for lying about his identity, for being murdered this stupidly, for falling for her this hard.

Hoseok tried to kick off those damned thoughts, cupping her face and leaning in again for another kiss. A soft kiss filled with the sourest desperation.

They pulled back, staring into each others eyes. The wind got stronger, the waves got angrier, impersonating the couple's repressed feelings.

'Now go'

'Wait-'

He pushed her from the cliff. His face got pale, feeling his heart sank, he felt like he died once again, in that moment.

'Keep your eyes on the stars' He mouthed to her while she was falling. She felt the whole fall in slow-mo, she gently closes eyes while gaining consciousness about the situation, getting ready for the impact. The ocean was about to welcome her once again. Her back hit the water, the rest of her body following.

A blinding flash hit her closed eyelids, a weight on her chest made her jump on her feet, making her threw up tons of water that freed her lungs. The girl looked around, confused, gripping a wooden surface. She looked out. The entire English navy's float was there, before her eyes. The black pearl beside the Endeavour, Beckett's ship. Y/n widened her eyes at the view. The cold wind moving her bluse like the sail of a ship, her wet hair falling heavily over her shoulders.

Instinctively she looked up at the sky, the clouds fading, letting the weak sun's rays to penetrate through them, she lingered there, as she knew that he was watching her. She nodded to herself and looked down. The ruined and humid deck of the Flying Dutchman beneath her, and a familiar voice shouting orders coming from the steering wheel. It was Will, her dearest friend, he was alive, christened as the new captain of the ship, bearer of his predecessor's curse. Y/n realized she was on the crow's nest, noticing that, next to her, there were her bow and two arrows. The young woman smiled looking above again and once her look fell on the Endeavour it was filled with range and fury. She got a task, a battle to win, friends to protect, a ship to take care of, a new life to start.

[lettersleftunsent]

// the last falsetto //

dear you,

when i first listened to this song, i easily associated it with someone. the song makes me feel like i'm walking barefoot at the beach, feeling the warm sand in between my toes, my hair flowing freely with the cold breeze, and my chest feels light as i breathe all my frustrations out in the air. he feels exactly like that. he feels like sunshine.

but after looping it for hours and rereading the lyrics multiple times, i took back the association because it doesn't match. all along, there's an underlying reason why i liked the song, and now, i realize it may be because of you.

there's probably a million things i'd like to say to you, but honestly, i think it'd be best if i just ask — how have you been?

a part of me wholeheartedly wishes that you're well, and that you're living your best life. a part of me wishes you're happy. but the part of me that recognizes the pain you caused totally wishes the opposite. i can't blame her though.

do you even remember how we started out as friends? it was the 5th of december, and we had emptied a lot of bottles. we were both drunk, and you were muttering the most nonsense sentences the world has ever heard despite us having a sensible conversation because the alcohol already took over. when the morning came, we were waiting for everyone to finish getting dressed so that we can go home. you sat by me while i'm hugging my stuffed bear and asked "can i hug you?". you were clingy when you're drunk, and funnily enough, i am too so i said yes. i think that was the first out of the many hugs we get to share. too bad the count finally halted.

we met again that afternoon for a photoshoot, and you, despite sleeping so soundly on the jeep to the point that your friend carried you to his apartment, turned out pretty decent. you looked great, like you weren't hurling hours before. that day was filled with so much bliss, and it's vividly etched in my memory. little did i know, the 6th of december marks a start of a beautiful friendship — so beautiful that the world doomed it to end terribly.

i don't want to delve deeper into what we had because even i cannot verbalize what that was. was there even a concept of "us" or was it just in my mind? all these years, the chronic thought of asking "what are we?" haunted me and what's sad is that i will never know the answer to that. maybe it's better not knowing. maybe it's better to just settle with the fact that you were the reason why my life was filled with bliss for a certain point in time, and for that, i will be eternally grateful.

at the back of my mind, i have this small box filled with little details about you. i know the song you listen to when you need that little push. you know how to braid someone's hair because you do your little niece's hair. you have this certain hyperfixation on this one particular italian word. oh god, i still remember how you smell like -- intoxicating, gentle, familiar.

and at the same time, you knew things about me, things i never even had the chance to verbalize out loud, but you still knew because you paid attention.

it will always be a mystery to me how you knew that i loved that particular song to the point that you asked me to sing it with you. i will never forget every single time you braided my hair because you knew i loved it when people play with my hair. you knew i love stickers, so you bought one that matched mine.

your arms, up until now, are what i consider my safest place in this world. no one has ever come close to the way you made me feel that night – the security, the serenity, the peace, everything – and five years later, you still own a part of me.

i'd like to think we knew each other pretty well -- perhaps to be loved is to be known. however, like the seasons, you and i went through drastic changes. we outgrew a lot of things, including each other. although sometimes, i think about these versions of us -- the version of us who deeply knew each other -- where did they go?

at nights when i walk home alone, or during spontaneous karaoke nights wherein i sing duets with a different person, and whenever i get the urge to braid my hair in the morning before i go to work, the question lingers, "what if?"

i'd like to think there's a universe out there wherein we decided to give in to chance. there's probably a universe wherein i decided to tell you that i love you, and you eagerly said it back. there's probably a universe in which the yearning and pining were mutual, and the love was unconditionally reciprocated.

like the song we sang to each other, i'd come home after a long day because in that world, you'll be mine and i'll be yours.

but that's all this was gonna be – a "what if". ours was never a case of bad timing because we're never made to course through this lifetime together. what we were were just ships that pass in the night — meant to meet at one point in time, but destined to sail off on our separate voyages, never to cross paths ever again.

it's bittersweet that i couldn't even say that our time has passed because we never even happened, but i grew to accept that i was never meant to be a part of your story. not a sentence, probably not even a phrase. i never made a mark on yours, but do remember that you are a whole chapter in mine.

[ghost-town-story]

Slides in nonchalantly

Gimme the 49 special please :3

The 49 special is Wake the Dead by blessthefall, which is a secret 2-for-1 deal! (mostly cause I like 'em both and didn't wanna choose between them hehe)

(ps content warnings for plenty of talk of death and/or necromancy. In case the song title didn't tip you off lol)

Spotify Wrapped Prompts! Send me a number and I’ll write a snippet based on the corresponding song!

(So first up we have a bit of Despereaux and a more villainous version of Revenant, based off of the title)

Revenant darted around a corner, disappearing into the rising fog. Despereaux only had enough time to hope this wasn't a bad idea before he turned the corner after them.

Almost immediately, the fog seemed to swallow him whole, the world turning white and silent in an instant. Despereaux slowed to a walk, listening for Revenant, but he could barely even hear his own footsteps.

"Revenant!" he yelled, his voice loud and shocking in the unnatural silence. "Come out and fight me head on, you coward!"

Revenant laughed, sounding like they were standing right behind Despereaux. He whirled around, but only saw empty air and eddying fog.

"Oh little hero," Revenant purred, still sounding way too close for Despereaux's comfort. "Didn't anybody ever tell you not to yell so loud?"

A sudden breeze blew past Despereaux, slowly clearing out the fog and revealing the unmistakable shapes of headstones around him. Cursing how easily he'd followed them into the trap, Despereaux turned until he found Revenant.

The necromancer tilted their head, eyes crinkling in a way that suggested they were grinning behind their mask. "After all," they said, their hand lighting up with a familiar bone-white glow, "you don't want to wake the dead."

~

(And for the second, a bit of René being forced back into their old hero role, based off the lyrics)

By the time the elevator reached the 24th floor, they had managed to somewhat slip back into their old hero persona. But after so long away it felt faker than ever, just a facade of glitter and sunshine glued over something that might have been a person once.

Sirona took a deep breath and exited the elevator. The route to the office was still ingrained in their head, and bile rose in their throat with every step that took them closer to it.

Finally, after what felt like too short an eternity, Sirona reached the office. They took a deep breath, then raised a hand to knock.

"Come in."

Just the sound of his voice was enough to activate a sort of flight-or-fight response, the sudden adrenaline pricking uncomfortably at their skin. Sirona gritted their teeth and forced themself to open the door.

Lodestone sat behind his desk as usual, but to Sirona's relief he wasn't alone in the office. Raven stood just behind him, and while she likely wouldn't do or say much, her very presence would likely keep Lodestone more in check than if he was alone.

"Ah Sirona, lovely to see you again," Lodestone said, standing up as Sirona entered the office.

"Cut the shit," Sirona said, "and sit the fuck down." They were grateful that their vocoder hid whatever waver their voice might have had.

Lodestone frowned, but he reluctantly sat back down. "Very well then," he said. "I'll cut to the chase. It is well past time you return to your duties and the team. I'll let you have the weekend to tie up any loose ends you may have, but I expect you to be back here on Monday."

Anger sparked in Sirona's chest at his words, at how he'd assumed they'd just fall back in line like a good little pet. Anger was good. It burned away some of the fear, at least.

"No."

The frown deepened. "That was not a request."

"And I'm not negotiating." Sirona leaned against the back of a chair, unwilling to sit and put themself any closer to Lodestone. "I know full well you want me back under your thumb, but I'm done with that shit. For all intents and purposes, Sirona died in that accident years ago."

"And yet you're standing here in front of me," Lodestone said dryly. But as his eyes swept over them, Sirona could practically read his expression. They had broken every one of his dumb appearance rules, and he wasn't happy his perfect little healer didn't look so perfect and angelic anymore.

A bark of something that was almost laughter escaped their throat. "Do I look like a hero to you?" they demanded. "Do I look like anything more than a ghost?"

"But you're still alive," Raven pointed out.

Sirona looked at her with the most deadpan stare they could muster. "Am I?" they retorted. "Or did I just resurrect a corpse to make you--to make him happy?"

"That's enough," Lodestone snapped, even as Raven looked away with a queasy look on her face. "Monday. Or else. Do you understand?"

Sirona's heart thudded somewhere in the vicinity of their throat, the background city noise drowned out by the rush of blood in their ears. But they swallowed hard, gripped the back of the chair tightly, and straightened up. "Yes," they said. "But let me make myself clear: Sirona. Is. Dead. And there's nothing you or any other hero can do to change that."

With that, they turned on their heel and stalked for the door, hoping that neither hero could tell just how badly they felt they were shaking.

"Sirona," Lodestone growled, and Sirona instinctively flinched. But they'd made sure they had no metal on their clothes or body for Lodestone to grab onto, and even as things rattled behind them, they didn't feel his powers dragging them back.

They paused by the door as one more thought occurred. "The least you can do is show some respect and leave the dead to their rest," they said over their shoulder.

[trevuorzegras]

━╋ BETTING, PART TWO

summary: in which y/n y/l/n falls for the wrong guy, who turns out to have just bet on her. 2/4

mark estapa makes a bet that y/n will fall for him, for a great price of $100 from his friend, adam fantilli.

strangers to lovers to enemies to lovers.

pairings: mark estapa x fem!reader

prev part

next part

her.

For the next month or so, Dylan, and Y/N had grown closer than ever. In fact he was attending her physical therapy sessions whenever he wasn’t busy with hockey, or classes. She was grateful to have someone by her side, who understood her struggle as to why she hated being away from the ice.

Y/N had friends, of course she did, she was a ray of sunshine. She was amazing to be around, and people knew that. However she didn’t have friends that understood the love she had for skating. Having Dylan around was like a breath of fresh air for her, she finally had someone she could talk about her problems with.

Dylan didn’t mind her ranting, because ultimately he knew how she felt. He couldn’t imagine not being able to skate, let alone not being able to skate for the rest of the year. Y/N enjoyed that Dylan didn’t look at her wiyh pity, like she was just the girl who could no longer preform. He looked at her like she was someone who would recover, and would do something great.

Y/N enjoyed Dylan’s company, just as he had enjoyed hers. He enjoyed her company so much so, that he had invited her to almost all of his games. She attended as many as she could, most were home games. She may not have been able to skate herself, but she enjoyed watching Dylan, and his team.

He had invited her quite a few times to join him at the post hockey party that accrued after every home game, however she always had an excuse. “I’m busy.” “I would love to, but i have early class tomorrow.” “I promised my roommate i’d be home early.” “I’m actually hanging out with my friends tonight.”

She knew her excuses were pathetic, but she couldn’t bring herself to go to parties. Not after all that had happened, she mentally cursed herself for the way it all went down. Her couch told her she wasn’t ready, she told her! She just hadn’t listened. She thought she could do it, but she couldn’t, eventually possibly coasting her the future she wanted.

After what felt like an eternity, Dylan was finally able to convince Y/N to come to a party with him. The conversation had begun just after the two of them left the doctors office, at which her physical therapy sessions were held.

Dylan stopped walking for a moment, causing Y/N’s eyebrows to furrow. She turned towards the boy who stood a few inches taller than her, a look of confusion clear on her features. “Sunshine, i know you will most likely say no, but would you please consider going to the party tonight?” Y/N thought for a second, before shaking her head, “I don’t know, Duker.”

Dylan had a pleading look in his eyes as he turned towards the girl, a look of hope in his eyes, “Please? Come on Sunny! It’s a Saturday!” Y/N looked the boy in his eyes, she watched as he gave her a look. A look that she knew all too well. It was look Dylan gave her when he wanted her to do something with him. She mostly got the look when he wanted her to attend a party. It became a routine of Dylan’s, asking Y/N to come to parties with him, that is.

Y/N took one last look at the boy who still had that same pleading look on his face, before groaning. “Fine! One party, that’s it.” Dylan’s face lit up, and the words that left her mouth, a small squeal leaving his throat as a smile broke onto his face. “You won’t regret it!”

So there Y/N was, a couple of hours later stood in her dorm room, Dylan sat on her bed as she got ready. He couldn’t explain how excited he was that she finally agreed to go to a party with him. Dylan had told his team about the young girl on multiple occasions, however they’ve never seen the girl. They also didn’t know her real name. Dylan had been referring to Y/N as Sunny, or Sunshine since about a week into their friendship.

The entire hockey team had only known the girl as Sunny. That’s what Dylan had always called her in front of them, it never occurred to him that he didn’t ever tell the group her real name, nor showed them a photo of her.

Dylan sat not so patiently on the girls bed, as she finished putting on her lipgloss. Dyan had been complaining none stop since she started getting ready, “Can you hurry up, we’re going to be late.” Y/N rolled her eyes at the boy, a sarcastic smile on her face, “You cannot be late to a party, Dyl.” The forward let out another groan, throwing his head back, causing Y/N to laugh coming out of the bathroom.

As Y/N walks out, she smooths out her tight black leather skirt, the red corset hugging her body tightly. Y/N’s eyes meet Dylan, as his mouth opens slightly. Dylan takes a moment, before he speaks up, “You look great, Sunny. I’m glad you decided to come with me tonight.” Y/N smiled at the boy’s compliment, “Thank you, D. I’m glad i decided to attend as well.”

Eventually Y/N found herself in front of the hockey house, Dylan standing by her side, a soft smile on his face. Dylan asked her if she was ready to go in, to which she nodded. As the duo walked into the house, loud music overtook the girl, her face scanning for any familiar faces.

Y/N hadn’t seen anyone that she recognized, she moved her eyes forward deciding to ignore the unfamiliar feeling in her stomach. She finally moved her eyes forward, as Dylan had come to a stop. She was about to give the boy a confused face until she saw they had stopped in front of a group of guys, causing her face to flush.

“Sunshine, this is some of the guys i’ve been telling you about.” Y/N thought for a moment, before her face lit up, “Oh yes! The team, right, nice to meet you guys, i’ve heard a lot about you all!” Y/N look towards a taller boy, with a slight beard, and damp hair as he spoke, “Nice to meet you, Sunny, is it?”

Y/N laughed for a moment, before looking back up to the group that stood in front of her, “My name isn’t actually Sunny, you guys do know that, right?” One of the guys eyes widened, as he looked towards Dylan, “No we did not know that, we always kind of assumed your name was Sunny, because of the whole Sunshine thing.”

A smile once again takes over her features, as she playfully punched the boy stood beside her. “You never told them my real name, Dyl?” As the boy turns away embarrassed, he groaned, “I thought i did! I guess Sunny, and Sunshine have always just been what i say in front of them.”

Y/N smiled at her bestfriend, throwing her arms around him, pulling him into a hug. Dylan quickly hugged the girl back, before she pulled away, “Well my name is Y/N. Sunshine, and Sunny are just nicknames that Duker has picked up.” Dylan groaned again, “Whatever. I’m going to go get a drink, want anything Sun- Y/N?” Y/N let out a laugh at the boy, before nodding, “Just a water is fine.”

As the boy made his way to the kitchen, Y/N turned her attention back to the group in front of her. To her surprise the guys had already been staring at her, “So you’re who Dylan has been spending his time with?” Y/N blushes slightly at the sudden question, before nodding slightly, “I guess so? We’ve been hanging out a lot more recently, and he takes me to my physical therapy sessions sometimes. I’m sorry if i’ve been taking up all his t-”

The girl was quickly cut off by a boy with fluffy blonde hair, who if she had to guess would be Mark. “No, no. Don’t apologize, we just haven’t really seen Duker hang out with anyone who wasn’t the team. We’re glad he has someone who he can escape with.”

The boy stood beside him, who had assumed her name was Sunny spoke again, “He told us about the accident, we’re really sorry about that. We understand how hard being off the ice is. I can’t even imagine being off ice until next year. That must really suck, huh?”

Y/N looked towards her feet, as she suddenly felt on the spot. She hadn’t thought about the accident much anymore, at least not anywhere outside of physical therapy. Y/N nodded at the boy, “It’s been hard, but if i make sure to keep up with physical therapy, then i should be back the second the new season starts.”

Y/N was grateful when Dylan had finally gotten back with their drinks, him quickly saying something about the kitchen being packed. All she could do was nod, trying to be polite without sounding bitchy.

Y/N didn’t have a problem with Dylan’s teammates, in fact they seemed nice, but the last thing she wanted to do right now was think of the accident. That’s all she had been thinking about the last month or so, everything reminded her of it. The decorations hanging on her walls, the metals from comps, her teammates, everything. She hated the feeling, this feeling she had been feeling for the last month, but slowly it had been going away, with Dylan it was going away.

For what seemed like forever, Y/N followed Dylan around like a lost puppy. She wasn’t afraid to say she stuck by his side, she hadn’t known anyone besides him there. Well she did know the hockey team now, but she definitely wouldn’t say they were friends.

Dylan had decided he wanted to play beer pong with Rutger, Luca and Ethan. Sure enough Dylan had asked her to join, to which she quickly declined. Y/N was never a drinker, even before her accident. She would maybe drink once every couple of months, but now she had honestly sworn off drinking.

him.

Mark stood beside Adam as his eyes drifted to Y/N. He wasn’t sure why, but he was intrigued by the girl. Maybe it was the fact she was a skater? Maybe it was that she was pretty? He may never know what drew him into her.

His thoughts were quickly cut off by Adam, who slapped his arm, “You’re staring.” Mark shook his head, taking one last look at the girl who was now sat on a couch, phone in her hand. “No i am not.”

Luca cut into their conversation by throwing in a quick, “You definitely were.” This caused Mark to let out a groan, throwing his head back against the wall he stood in front of. “Why don’t you ask her out?”

Mark looked towards Adam as if he had three heads, shaking his head quickly, “Absolutely not, dude i just met her!” Luca shrugged at he took a shot at Ethan, and Dylan’s cups, “You won’t ever know her if you don’t ask.”

“He’s right, Mark. She’s my bestfriend, i’m sure she’d say yes. She hasn’t really had time for a relationship, cause of the accident, but with summer coming up, i’m sure she’d like to try.” Adam smirked at Dylan’s words as an idea popped into his head, “Why don’t we make a bet?”

Mark raised his eyebrows at the younger boy, “What kind of bet?” Adam simply shrugged, throwing his arms around the dirty blonde. “I bet you.. Let’s say a hundred bucks, that you can’t get Y/N to fall for you. If she falls, you get a hundred bucks, if she doesn’t.. Then consider me a hundred dollars richer.”

Dylan was the first to protest, “Dude i just said she hasn’t had a relationship in a while, and your first thought is to fucking bet on her?” Adam once again shrugs, bringing Mark closer to him, “Just think about it.”

next part

check out my college hockey masterlist, here!

i’m so excited for this story, you guys actually have no idea. i don’t really ever have opportunities to actually write so i took my chance 🤗 (not proof read.)

taglist | @wnderify @bunbunbl0gs

[learningtolovesomethingnew]

Odontiasis

Arrgghhh! Something is wrong. Very, very wrong. The wrong is everywhere! “Otherme, help,” I beg, “help, NOW! Hurry!” Finally. Here we are. “Please, Otherme,” I whimper, “make the everywhere wrong go away!” the Warmth flooding as we rise up and relief- oh no! It isn’t gone, the wrong is still here. Otherme will fix it, I just have to explain that it’s still there.

“It is awful,” I begin as we enter the cozy, soothing rhythm of up, “there is a terrible, loud feeling in me. It’s cold and empty can we make it stop now, please?”

“Shhhhhhhhhh.Shhhhhhh,” breathes Otherme in our ear as the world becomes suddenly too, too bright. We hate the brightness. We break apart and one of our hands begins to fumble at our low part.

“Stop that,” I command, although none of our hands ever listens to us, especially when we’re upset. Maybe it’s time for a physical approach. We arch up. Bat at the hand with some other hands. We thrash our low part, it’s no use.

After an eternity, it is over. Yessss. The soft place gently catches us and we are pulling the sunshine into our mouth…

This can’t be happening! The wrong is worse! This has never happened before. The sunshine always makes everything better. There can be only one explanation: this is the new us. We will feel this way forever. The world must be notified of this gross injustice.

“No, no, noooooo! This. Is. Unacceptable,” just getting warmed up to air my grievances. “Make it stop, now”, I demand to whom I do not know. “The sunshine makes it worse. I cannot bear it.”

“Hmmm, hm, hmmm, hmm,” Otherme chimes in with a resigned murmur. “La, la, mmmmmhhmmm,” we harmonize, and the billowing vibrations lull us into an exhausted stupor.

Where is Otherme? We were just here. Why is there something in our mouth!? Ouch, its slick sharpness on our tongue. Here we go again. “Othermeeeeeeeeee!”

In case I didn’t convey it well, this is a first-person narration of a tooth cutting. Based on current research, I tried to include a six month old infant’s inability to extricate his identity from that of his primary care giver. I chose “Otherme” as my name (even though it’s a bit on the nose) because it has “mother” in it and I like the cadence of the fictitious word. I hope that “Otherme” provided some foreshadowing of the event and added context while building the narrator’s character and unique perspective. I know, that’s a lot to ask of a name.

First-person narration is challenging enough to write, and I decided to blur the pronouns on top of that. I stuck to “we, us”, unless I was using a dialogue tag where I thought “I” felt more immediate. I tried to maintain age/development appropriate concepts of self and situational awareness throughout the narration and switched to more sophisticated speech language. I utilized the symbol “sunshine” for breastmilk to (hopefully) portray the benevolent, life-giving necessity that it is. I wanted it’s ineffectiveness to raise the action while providing a clue to the ultimate outcome. The metaphorical “billowing vibrations” are what I’ve always imagined my son perceives when I hold him pressed to my chest while it is expanding and contracting with my singing breaths. I called our rocking, “the cozy, soothing rhythm of up” because my child demands motion while being held- I don’t think he recognizes that he’s okay until we are swaying. It also allowed the action to fall in my organic narrative, before the final plot shift. I intentionally left my vignette unresolved to communicate a realistic portrayal of early childhood: as soon as one issue is remedied, another arises- also inexplicable and brand new.

This story was important for me to attempt because my son cut his first tooth when he was six months old. I tried to put myself in his position of being unable to determine what was happening: incomprehensible to why his other half wasn’t in sync and convinced that this pain was a new and permanent aspect of his existence. I couldn’t do it. My powers of empathy utterly failed me, it was too large a leap. This is the closest I’ve come to understanding the abject horror of it.