#it feels like an eternity since this song came out

[bbokicidal]

Marriage? Marriage. | Maknae Line! SKZ [OT8]

Genre : Fluff Warnings : None Pairing : Maknae Line SKZ x Fem!Reader

Notes : Ever wondered what your wedding would be like with SKZ? How they would propose? What their tux/outfit would look like? Your ring? The venue? Well I've got it all right here! (Completely w/ photo references!)

Other Notes : This is just how i picture things going down/looking. If you disagree or have other opinions, that's totally fine! But please don't go in the comments complaining it isn't how you pictured it. If you don't like it, scroll past. Thank you!

Jisung

The Proposal : Jisung is the one to make a big spectacle of it, creating an entire song to ask you to marry him in front of the guys. He does it at the venue for their concert during soundcheck so it's a little more personal, wanting you to be there for what he's calling 'practice' so you can hear and critique his new song. Or that's what he says - it's really just a massive proposal. He even gets Chan and Minho to run down the stage throwing flower petals in the air while he sings.

The Venue : Nothing too fancy. He wants it to be personal between just your families (and the guys, of course.) So he chooses a smaller venue with plenty of floral decorations to satisfy the both of you. He lets you pick out the colors however, agreeing that a nice muted purple would be a good mix between casual and elegant.

First Look : Oh, he bawls. He's on his knees the moment he turns around, tears streaking down round cheeks and hands covering his mouth in admiration. You have to cup his face and pull him up - but the photographer gets a perfect picture of you two kissing while Jisung bawls his eyeballs out at how beautiful you look.

His Best Man : Minho. (We all saw that coming.)

Felix

The Proposal : Felix takes you to his childhood home to do it. It's bigger than expected (because he came from a pretty well off family,) and still as wonderful as he remembers growing up. His family tags along to witness it all, but they aren't even aware of the proposal and his sisters are screaming before you are when they see him get down on one knee. Very romantic, very wholesome - biggest ring you've ever seen.

The Venue : Massive venue, very fairytale-esque. He wants it to be grand, as perfect as you are. He falls in love with the ballroom feel of the venue and his mind is made up the moment he steps inside to check it out for the first time. "It's perfect," He'll nod, later admiring how it looks with all of the decorations the two of you had picked out. The theme comes out to a soft pale blue and white.

First Look : He doesn't want to do a first look, but he lets the guys go and see you. His heart slams in his chest the moment Chris comes back with rosy cheeks, exclaiming how beautiful you looked and how Felix had gotten oh-so lucky to be with you. Of course, he tears up a bit and maybe bawls a little when he sees you walking down the aisle.

His Best Man : Jisung.

Seungmin

The Proposal : He's the one to do it on stage. Unexpected, right? He wants to make it memorable for everyone - especially you. He'll ask you to come out, take your hand the moment you enter the stage and then walk with you to the middle to give the most heartwarming and sincere speak you've heard since their Maniac tour. "I said once that I didn't believe in the word 'forever,' but... in this moment, I want to believe I'll be with you for eternity."

The Venue : Also something bigger. Plenty of room to hold many guests but not as grand of a venue as Felix's pick. It's outdoors, for one, the theme of the wedding a warm green with pale pinks and roses speckled in for accent. He lets you do most of the decorating because he trusts you with it, but he will give you his input if you ask for it. However, his favorite thing about the venue has to be the archway he'll marry you under.

First Look : Oh he's getting a first look. He's a bit impatient the day of and asks to see you as soon as possible, only to be met with your arms wrapping around him from behind. He'll sink into your embrace before turning to look at you, backing away only so he can take in the full view. He'll even ask you to do a little spin, holding your hand with care and smiling at how beautiful you are.

His Best Man : Jeongin.

Jeongin

The Proposal : It just sort of... falls out of his mouth. You're having dinner with the group out at a nicer restaurant and he's sitting at your side, seeming a bit distracted and distant. Lost in thought, he snaps back into his own mind before murmuring a soft, "Do you want to get married?" as he looks over. It catches you by surprise, especially when he pulls a velvet box from his pocket, opening it to reveal a gorgeous diamond ring. He couldn't find the perfect way to do it, and he grew impatient with himself - so he just asked.

The Venue : He lets you pick it out, with you settling on a smaller church that gave the most basic, traditional wedding possible - which is how he preferred it, if he were honest. He liked how it felt normal, like he was just another person existing in the universe. Nothing too special, nothing too grand. Just... normal and perfect for you two.

First Look : His first look is during pictures, and as he sees you coming up to him he's all full of giggles and bouncy excitement. He turns away to whisper to Seungmin how he's not sure how he bagged such a baddie, before turning back to gather himself and hold your hands while telling you how beautiful you are. Absolute menace even during his own wedding but he's doing his best.

His Best Man : Technically? Seungmin. But he gives each member of the group a special Boutonniere because in his mind, they're all the best. He wants all of his hyungs involved in his wedding.

[calif0rnia-lovers]

safe place.

an: ngl, I wanted to hug jude & bukayo through the screen when England lost😔

requested: I remember seeing that Jude said his mom helps him when he gets "too low with the lows or too high with the highs." Can you do a fic where his gf is that way?

pairing: jude bellingham x black!reader

series: lyrically inspired tales.

if my heart aches, you breathe with me at my pace.

song: safe place by ruthanne

warnings: this is most definitely not edited lol.

The stadium lights had dimmed, and the roar of the crowd had faded into a distant memory, replaced by a haunting silence. Jude Bellingham sat in the quiet of his hotel room, the weight of the Euro final's loss pressing heavily on his shoulders. Exhaustion seeped into his bones—physically, mentally, and emotionally he was tapped. The missed shot that could have changed everything replayed in his mind, a tormenting loop of what-ifs and if-onlys.

He felt utterly drained, each breath a reminder of the effort he had poured into the match. The worst part about losing was feeling like he was at his lowest, despite all the hard work and dedication he had poured in for his country. The memory of the silver medal being draped over his shoulder, the relentless flashes of cameras, and the disappointed faces of fans loomed over him like a dark cloud. He had tried to keep his head up, stopping to hug each of his teammates, whispering words of encouragement, but it still hurt like hell. He had forced a brave face, stifling the sting in his eyes, reassuring his family and friends that he was alright. Keeping up the front until he reached his room had been a monumental task, and now, alone in the dim light, the facade crumbled.

He stared blankly at the wall, the ache of disappointment settling deep within his chest. Hours seemed to drag by, each minute stretching into an eternity. His phone was on Do Not Disturb. Although he knew the messages were meant with the best intentions, Jude wasn’t ready to read the encouraging texts sent to him. He hadn't spoken to anyone since the bus doors closed, needing space to process the defeat alone. The team’s efforts, the dreams of a nation, all seemed to hang on that one moment when his shot had veered just slightly off course.

A knock at the door broke through his reverie. Jude ignored it at first, unwilling to face anyone. If he didn’t call out, whoever it was would go away. But then it came again. 

A single knock, followed by three softer knocks, a distinct rhythm that was all too familiar. It was a special knock. Your special knock, a signal that meant more than words ever could. It prompted him to rise from the bed and cross the room.

Your interaction at the stadium was still a blur. A rushed kiss against his lips, nose, and forehead, a whispered “I love you so much,” was all he could receive before he was moving through the line of friends and family. In the few short hours that had passed, you had showered and changed.

When he opened the door, Jude found you standing there with your travel backpack pressed against your chest.

Jude paused to take you in, grounding himself by focusing on your familiar features. It was a routine he had built over the last six months of your relationship, a way to find solace in the midst of chaos. His eyes passed over your smooth, deep brown skin, which seemed to glow softly in the dim light. He traced the contours of your face, from your cheekbones to your lips that carried a gentle, reassuring smile. The sight of it relaxed the furrow of his brow.

Your eyes, warm and filled with understanding, were his favorite feature. They held a depth of emotion and wisdom that made him feel seen and understood. Your lashes framed them perfectly, long and curled, adding to the natural beauty that always took his breath away. His gaze traveled up to the soft curls, pineappled at the top of your head, his hand instinctively reaching forward.

As he studied you, taking in every detail—his touch tracing the curve of your jaw before settling against your cheek—he felt a sense of peace wash over him.

"Hi," you greeted softly, your voice a balm to his battered spirit.

Jude managed a weak smile, the corners of his lips lifting. "Hey," he replied, his voice rough.

You stepped inside, Jude’s hand instinctively settling on your hips as the door closed.

The scent of lavender and chamomile wafted from the bag you carried, filling the room with a calming aroma. It was a scent that lingered on the sheets of each hotel room Jude stayed in, his bedroom at home, and even in his shirts and jerseys. He associated it with you, and only you—a fragrance that instantly brought relaxation and comfort. Whenever you couldn't make it to his games, Jude would find the aromatherapy tucked away in his bag, a thoughtful gesture that made him feel close to you even when apart.

“My flight leaves at 9:30 tomorrow,” you began as you unzipped the bag. Gathering what you needed, you started towards the bathroom. “So, I’ll probably leave here at 7. I’m sure traffic is going to be insane.”

Jude listened to your voice, the calm cadence soothing his frayed nerves. You didn’t expect a response; you knew him well enough to understand that after a loss, he needed time to recover. So, you verbally went through your travel plans. The turnaround was quick, but you needed to report to work. While slightly annoying, the plan was simple: report home, get back to work, and into your routine. Jude would soon follow.

As you focused on starting the bath, Jude began to look through the items you bought. His hand paused on something small and familiar, tucked beneath his favorite snacks—a stuffed lion. He picked it up, a wave of bittersweet memories washing over him. The lion had a soft, golden mane and big, friendly eyes. Stitched into the pad of its right paw was a heart. Jude remembered the day he won it for you at the Ice Palace, the way your face had lit up with joy, your smile so wide and genuine it had made his heart swell.

"My lion," you’d giggled, hugging the plush toy tightly before wrapping your arms around his neck, your laughter ringing in his ears. “I can keep him with me when you’re away.”

You paused in the bathroom doorway, watching him hold the stuffed lion. "That always makes me feel better when we're apart," you said softly, a smile finding your lips as the shared memory hung between the two of you.

You began to take out and explain the things you had brought to cheer him up—a selection of his favorite snacks, your iPad full of movies, and some comforting toiletries. "I brought these because I thought they might help you relax. And I know how much you love Shawshank Redemption. So...being the gracious, loving girlfriend I am, I will sit through it for the hundredth time. But, only if you promise to share your sour st-"

You were mid-sentence when he moved towards you, wrapping his arms around your middle from behind. For a moment, you stayed that way, the warmth of his embrace speaking louder than words. Jude buried his face in your shoulder, his breath hitching as he tried to hold back the tears that threatened to escape.

You could feel the tremors in his body, his grip tightening as if you were his anchor in the storm of his emotions.

"It's okay," you whispered, turning to face him, the warmth of your palms against his cheeks lifting his eyes to yours. "You gave it everything you had, and that's all anyone can ask for. I'm so proud of you, Jude. You’ve come so far, and this is just a moment in your journey. It's okay to feel hurt and disappointed, but remember that you are stronger than this. Everything happens exactly when it's meant to."

Finally, the dam broke, and Jude rested against you, the tears he’d managed to keep at bay all night came pouring out. He remained pressed against you until the stress of the past few months drained his eyes dry. He allowed you to lead him to the bathroom, welcoming the warm, fragrant steam filled the room, creating a cocoon of comfort. 

He allowed you to help him undress, your movements tender and deliberate, as if you were peeling away not just his clothes but also the layers of his hurt.

"Let's get you in," you murmured softly, as his lips brushed against yours, guiding him into the tub. Jude eased himself into the warm water, letting out a deep sigh as the heat began to soothe his aching muscles and weary mind.

You stepped back to gather the other things you had brought, but Jude's hand gently traced soothing circles into your thigh as you stood by the tub. The simple touch spoke volumes, a silent plea for your presence, for you to stay close.

Jude leaned his head back, closing his eyes as he let the warmth of the bath wash over him. The exhaustion and frustration that had gripped him began to loosen, replaced by a growing sense of peace. He listened as you moved around the room, lighting a few candles and setting out the items you had brought—a fluffy towel, his favorite shampoo, and a soft robe for when he got out. 

You joined Jude in the tub, settling behind him. He welcomed the loofah against his skin, the gentle, rhythmic motion of your hands soothing his frayed nerves. You massaged his shoulders, careful with the one that had been previously injured, as he rested back against you. His hand found its place on his leg, grounding him as he watched the movie playing on the tablet propped nearby.

Your touch worked magic, and you could feel his body gradually relaxing. The tension that had coiled within him slowly unwound, and he seemed to be coming back to himself. The voice in his head, the one that echoed with doubt and personal criticism, grew quieter with each passing moment. Each gentle kiss you pressed against his skin, each laugh you shared from the film, chipped away at the walls of his frustration.

By the time most of the bubbles had dissipated, Jude was completely relaxed. His gratefulness showed in the way he gently squeezed your thigh and the soft kisses he brushed against your knuckles. The warmth of the water, combined with your presence, created a cocoon of comfort and safety. 

He tilted his head back slightly, letting it rest against your shoulder, eyes half-closed in contentment. "I don't know what I'd do without you," he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper.

You smiled, fingers tracing small circles on his chest. "You don’t have to," you replied softly. "I’m here, always."

Jude sighed, a deep, contented breath that seemed to release the last of his lingering tension. He turned his head slightly to kiss your forehead, a silent thank you for being his anchor in the storm. The doubts that had plagued him earlier were now a distant memory.

The kiss he left against your lips was soft, almost sloppy. The physical and mental strain he's been under from Real Madrid and the Euros suddenly registering. His body begging for sleep.

"Let's get you outta here," you giggled. "I don't think I can carry you to bed if you fall asleep."

You press against the corner of his mouth, the action stopping the closing of his heavy eyelids. "Come on, Jude."

"Mmm...hold up..." Jude mumbled, eyes drifting shut as your lips brushed against his. Brow arching, his smirk prompting your eyes to roll. "...I'm not even tired."

"Uh-huh," stifling your giggle, you watch as Jude nods. His heavy eyes blinking before dropping down to your smile.

"'m not," he mumbled, his kiss missing your lips and settling on your chin.

A series of soft and light kiss lingered against your jaw, drifting to your shoulder. As much as he tried to fight off the comfortable sleeping tugging at him, Jude couldn't resist. By the time he reached your lips, a tired and goofy smile stretched across Jude's lips.

"Alright," he relented. "Let's go, but we gonna finish this in the morning."

"I'm sure we will," you smiled.

You place a final kiss against his lips. The brushing of your nose against his pulling out the smile that left you the victim of constant butterflies and euphoria. Before Jude knew it, the words slipped out.

"I love you," he murmured, the words hanging in the air between you like a delicate promise. "Thanks for this."

The words halted your movement of slipping from beneath him, your eyes widening slightly in surprise. It was the first time he had said it aloud. You had never pressured him for those words, knowing that he showed his love in countless other ways. Just as you did for him.

"I love you too, Jude," you replied as his lips found your forehead.

Letting his lips pass over your nose, Jude pushed himself.

[afterglowsainz]

guilty as sin? | oscar piastri

summary: you and oscar can't be together, but that doesn't stop either of you from wanting each other

warnings: drinking, mentions of masturbation

word count: 2k

a/n: this song is my hyperfixation rn! also, i don't write smut (which is not what this is) but i had to include the last part of the fic, the nature of the song forced me to!

everyone and their mother knew that you and oscar liked each other, but things were never that simple between the two of you.

oscar being an f1 driver for mclaren in his second year and you being a pr manager for f1, dating within the workplace was a complete no; besides the fact that it just made things more complicated than they had to be, it was also forbidden by your boss. that and also the fact that the two of you were too proud to be the first one to give in, so neither of you did. it was a bit immature, sure, but it was what it was.

so since you couldn’t be together, the only way to fight the feeling was simply date other people, and you both did that well. for oscar it was easy because he usually just went back to his ex, which made you extremely jealous because she was the only woman you thought you couldn’t compare to, they had years of history, and you were the relatively new girl, how could you stand up against her? easy, you couldn’t, or so you thought. finding someone for you wasn’t hard either, unlike oscar, you didn’t date the same person the whole time because you didn’t have an ex, so you just picked a boy of the month and made oscar jealous, which was quite easy because oscar got jealous of every guy who even looked at your direction.

at this moment, at the after-party of the miami grand prix, it was one of those rare moments where none of you were dating and you were both single, but still, not together. you had to admit you’ve been drinking shots of vodka since you arrived at the place and haven’t stopped since, which made you a bit tipsy but not drunk. you were on your way out of the bathroom when you accidentally slipped on a wet patch at the club’s floor and you had to lean on the person closest to avoid falling.

“oh.” a small shocked sound came out of you. “sorry, i’m sorry.” you apologized to the person next to you, who put his arms around your waist to avoid you from falling.

“it’s okay.” you hear your favorite voice in the world and look up to see his face close to you.

“hey.” you smile.

“hello.” he answers with his beloved australian accent.

“didn’t see you there.” you look at your surroundings, the bathroom was in the dark side of the club and not many people were around

“yeah, i was hiding.” he admits. you nod in understanding.

“alone?” you arch your brow after not seeing any of his friends nearby.

“i just need a second.”

you nod again. oscar can get overwhelmed very easily so you knew what he needed.

“have you been drinking?” he asks now. you avoid his eyes, focusing on the people dancing in front of you.

“yeah.” you admit. “that’s not why i almost fell though, the floor is wet.” he chuckles and nods with a smile. “have you?”

“just a little, not much.” you turn to look at him and it was now him who was avoiding your gaze. “where’s your boyfriend?” he asks.

right. you forgot to tell oscar that you broke up with the last guy you were seeing. it was stupid, really, you just didn’t like the way he dressed, he wore skinny jeans and hoodies most of the time and that irritated you for some reason. he was also not oscar.

“we’re not together anymore.” you say waiting for a reaction which you get.

“oh?” he asks, arching his brow and looking back at you. his expression however, stays the same.

a scary thought crosses your mind and you feel sick almost thinking of it, but now that you thought of it you can’t forget it, so you just ask.

“did you get back with lily?” you wait for what it feels like an eternity for his answer, but it only really takes him about three seconds to respond.

“no, we’re not together.”

you felt like breathing out all the air in your lungs in relief, but you didn’t out of respect.

“nice.” you say instead, which earns oscar another chuckle.

“yeah.” he says simply.

you stand by each other in silence, just watching the people around you not having a single care in the world. like it was a gravitational force pulling you to him, you started getting closer and closer until your hands were touching each other. you were feeling bold that night, bold enough to maybe make the first move. when you felt his finger rubbing against your hands you snap your head to look at him, but before you could talk you hear a male voice interrupting you.

“y/n”. they called you.

at lightning speed, oscar gets away from you and you feel like punching the person who interrupted you. when you turn you see the face of one of your best friends who also happens to work in formula 1.

“just wanted to make sure everything was okay.” he says. “you left a few minutes ago.”

you smile at him like you internally didn’t want to kill him.

“all good.” you answer. “just catching up with oscar here.” you tilted your head towards the australian until your friend finally noticed him.

he looks a bit shocked when he realizes he interrupted you.

“hi mate, how are you?” he asks him, a bit shy, trying to play it cool. oscar just smiles slightly at him.

“all good.” he looks at your friend and then back to you. “well i should get back with them.” he tilts his head towards lando and some of the other drivers.

you couldn’t think of anything fast enough to make him stay, so you just nodded. he said his goodbyes and left you two alone.

“mate!” you finally recriminate your friend and playfully slapped his arm.

the laugh that erupted from him was a mix between amusement and regret.

“i’m sorry!” he apologized, taking you back towards your other friends through the club. “i didn’t know you were together, we were actually worried.”

“that’s fine.” you respond while rolling your eyes. “let’s just drink.”

you spent the next hour forgetting about the world around you and just drinking and dancing with your friends like it was the last night on earth. it was also pretty fair to say that you were already drunk at this point. not embarrassingly drunk, you could still stand on your feet and have a conversation without dragging your words, but you were definitely beyond the point of being sober.

“i have to go to the bathroom again.” you screamed at the ear of your friend and she nodded in understanding.

“do you want me to go with you?” she screamed back at you. you shook your head.

“i won’t take long.” she just nodded and let you go.

this time you weren’t planning on taking as long as it took you last time, you just wanted to go back to your friends as soon as possible to continue having fun. but just like the first time, the only person in the world that you wanted to be with was right there again, next to the bathroom exit and somehow hiding in the shadows, but this time you saw him.

“oscar!” you screamed over the music.

he snaps his head towards your face, always finding you in a room full of people. a smirk appears on his face as you approach him and you can tell by the look of him that he has also been drinking more.

“thought i wouldn’t see you for the rest of the night.” he whispers once you’re close enough.

you take your time to answer, just taking him in.

“hiding again?” you ask.

“too many shots.” he says. “needed to take a minute.”

you bite your lip shamelessly and he notices it, immediately wishing it was his instead. 

“oscar.” you smile and whisper his name.

“y/n.” he whispers back, his eyes fixated on your lips.

you mimic him and lower your eyes to his lips as well. since you were drunk and every ounce of shame left your body long ago, you’re bold enough to touch his chest, your hands traveling all the way to the back of his neck, pulling yourself closer to him.

“oscar.” you whisper again, touching his cheeks, just wanting to feel him. “oscar.”

you felt his arms wrapping around your waist, bringing you as close to him as possible. your face inches away from his.

“y/n.” he whispers again.

you think that is gonna happen, it’s definitely gonna happen right here right now, but everything comes crumbling down when you feel a different pair of arms pulling you away from your waist.

“hey, there you are!” someone exclaims and the connection between you and oscar immediately breaks. “sorry mate, she gets touchy when she’s drunk.” the voice says and you instantly recognize it as one of the friends you came with.

“i’m not drunk!” you defend yourself, facing him with a frown on your face for ruining the moment.

“right.” he says incredulously. “she’s touchy all the time.” this was now directed at oscar.

you felt like screaming at the top of your lungs for having your moment with oscar ruined for the second time in the night, but you controlled yourself, allowing your friend to grab your back and direct you to your friends.

“bye, oscar.” you whisper, waving your hand slightly.

he doesn’t answer back, but you can see the strained smile on his face and the nod he gives you. when you’re far enough, you look at your friend with impotence.

“what the hell was that?” you yell. “didn’t you see i was busy?”

“that was me saving your ass.” he says without major emotion. “you were about to kiss oscar drunk and you and i both know that’s impossible.”

you sighed and crossed your arms like a little girl throwing a tantrum. working in formula 1 was hard, and trying to date in it was even harder, almost impossible.

“is it ever going to be easy?” you ask no one in particular, but your friend answers anyway.

“well, it’s you and oscar, so probably not.” you think about it for a few seconds until he interrupts your train of thought. “come on, we were leaving already.” he says.

you follow your friends to the exit of the club and get into the first uber that’s taking you back to the hotel. the trip doesn’t take long and you just chat with your friend for most of it. once in the hotel you say goodbye to everyone and go up to your room, trying to catch some sleep. 

it shouldn’t be hard to fall asleep considering that you’ve been working all day and you just spend hours at the club, however, there was one thing at the back of your mind that didn’t let you rest. you couldn’t shake the feeling of oscar’s hands in your body back at the club, almost cornering him into the wall, the two of you just feeling each other. you were frustrated for sure, tossing and turning in bed for an hour straight until you couldn’t fight the feeling anymore. 

you bit your lip for a moment, thinking if this was actually appropriate, but soon enough the intrusive thoughts took over your mind and you just think fuck it. 

you touch yourself that night with only one person in your mind, wishing it was him that was making you feel good, knowing that he would make you feel even better; you screamed his name when you climaxed. before you can think of what you just did you decide to go to bed as soon as possible, finally feeling tired enough to sleep.

ten minutes after you went to bed, you missed oscar’s text asking you if you were still awake, which he deleted five minutes after you didn’t answer him.

[genshingorlsrevengeance]

(Genshin Impact) Lisa, Eula, Yae, Shenhe, Chiori, Rosaria, Navia, and Furina's S/O feeling insecure

No one requested this, just writing away some blues tonight since I can't sleep. Totally unrelated, Just Give Me A Reason is a really good song.

Lisa immediately noticed something was bothering S/O.

The way their hands fidgeted on the teacup, staring out into space with their brows creased.

(Lisa) "...S/O?"

She gently calls out to them, snapping them out of whatever they were thinking about as they blinked a few times in surprise.

(Lisa) "Is something the matter?"

S/O gave a smile, one she immediately knew was forced.

(S/O) "Ah, it's nothing.-"

Their expression vanished the moment they saw how concerned Lisa was getting. There was no point in lying to her, was it?

S/O sighed as their fingers resumed rapidly tapping against the side of the cup, struggling to look her in the eyes.

(S/O) "This is going to sound really dumb but...I've just been thinking lately. You...still love me right?""

Lisa's back straightens at their words, where was this going?

S/O shook their head in a slight panic as they realized how their words came across.

(S/O) "I-It's nothing you've done, I promise! I just...I'm just worried that I'm not good enough. And that...you'll leave me because of it."

Lisa for her part remains silent for a moment. Not because she didn't know what to say, it was the opposite.

She was just relieved that it wasn't something more serious. But regardless, Lisa's arms reach over the table and hover over their hands before gently squeezing them.

(Lisa) "S/O, you've always been perfect for me. Whatever thoughts you have right now, don't listen to them."

Her smile and soothing voice makes S/O thankfully relax, with them meeting her gaze.

(Lisa) "Of course I still love you. I always will."

Lisa gets up from her seat to embrace S/O, letting them take a second to let their emotions out.

(S/O) "Lisa-"

(Lisa) "It's okay. Take as long as you need."

Eula is completely stunned when she hears S/O voice their thoughts.

Leave them?

Eula's mouth opens to immediately rebuke that, but quickly silences herself.

Truth be told, she felt that fear herself. The fact that S/O chose to love a Lawrence was a fact she still struggled to fully comprehend.

S/O was the first person to show her true love, and it felt like a knife to her heart to hear them think so little of themselves.

Instead, Eula's palm slowly caresses their cheek, letting their head rest into it.

And with a voice that grows softer by the second, she takes a deep breath and replies:

(Eula) "You mean more to me than anything I could ever say or do, S/O. Don't ever think that you're not good enough for me, because there's no one else I'd rather have."

(S/O) "...Thank you, Eula."

Once she sees that smile she loves, she gives one herself, not being able to help the teasing that follows up.

(Eula) "Remember, our feud is for the long-haul. Don't think that you can escape it that easily."

(Eula) "Hah, of course..."

Yae exhales deeply, processing S/O's words as her ears uncharacteristically twitch for a split second.

A soft chuckle from Yae is the sound S/O hears, making them turn their gaze from the ground to her.

(Yae) "Frankly, I thought when you began that sentence, it would be far worse."

For once, there's no sign of a mischievous smile or anything resembling that she'd tease them.

Yae gives a soft kiss to their forehead before taking their head to rest on her chest in an intimate hug.

(Yae) "I certainly hope you'd know by now, S/O. If I didn't love you, I wouldn't be here right now."

(S/O) "...S-Sorry, Miko.-"

She cuts them off by squeezing them tighter, her voice still as affectionate.

(Yae) "Don't apologize. Just remember that even if you doubt yourself, that I won't."

S/O pulls away after a small eternity, with Yae's expression going back to normal.

(Yae) "Good, that's the face I like to see."

Shenhe is terribly confused.

Why on earth would she ever leave without a good reason to?

(Shenhe) "You don't have to worry about something like that, S/O."

Abandon the person who made her feel human again, to feel love when she thought it was completely gone?

She would have to go completely insane to do that.

(S/O) "I-I know...It's not fair to you at all and-"

Shenhe instantly hugs them tightly, her face and voice not fluctuating all that much despite the strength that held S/O.

(Shenhe) "I am still struggling with emotions, but I know the feelings I have for you are real."

She's put at ease when S/O hugs her back. Thank the Archons she was saying her piece correctly.

(Shenhe) "I'm sorry that I have ever made you doubt me, but I love you, S/O."

(S/O) "I'm...I'm sorry I ever doubted you."

Neither of them move out of each other's arms for a long while.

Chiori sighs before she speaks up in her usual stoic tone. Though this time, there's a hint of kindness in it.

(Chiori) "Well, you're right about sounding dumb."

...Wait, shit that's not what she meant-

(Chiori) "I mean, you know I'm not the type to beat around the bush. If I wanted to leave, I'd have done it. I'm still here, aren't I?"

...Chiori shakes her head, mostly at herself. Even at times like these, she still can't help her choice of words.

This time, she moves to give them a tight hug, wiping away the tears forming at the edge of their eyes.

Chiori feels their heartbeat, giving her time to think of a way to not sound like a bitch.

(Chiori) "Too direct right now, aren't I? Then how about this, my feelings for you haven't changed, and they won't."

She hears S/O give a small chuckle, making her a little more at ease.

(S/O) "You have such a way with words, Chiori."

(Chiori) "Remember, you chose me...And I chose you, S/O."

Rosaria is silent, much of her actions mimicking S/O's.

She didn't look them in the eyes as she took her time, coming up with a response in her head.

Once she glanced at S/O and saw how uncomfortable they had become, she figured out what to say.

(S/O) "I shouldn't have brought this up, sorr-"

(Rosaria) "I'm glad you did, S/O...If anything, I feel like I haven't been there for you enough."

And she was proven right, seeing how they were tonight.

Rosaria hesitates before letting her hands hold S/O's, closing her eyes.

(Rosaria) "I know I'm not here a lot of nights to reassure you, and I know I'm really bad at this kinda stuff..."

Instead of saying anything, she gets up to kiss them, hoping that gets the message across.

(Rosaria) "...Don't worry about me leaving, that's not happening."

She makes it a mental note to come home sooner than usual now, if at the very least to wipe any tears S/O may have away.

Navia thoughtfully listens to S/O's troubles.

Her expression is completely serious, not saying anything until they finished their sentence.

Her first instinct is to wrap her arms around them and tell them that it's okay, but she knew what they really needed.

(Navia) "S/O. I don't think I could imagine my life with anyone else. And I never want anyone but you."

Seeing them relax got her to do so as well, Navia leaning in to kiss the top of their hand.

(Navia) "Don't ever be afraid to tell me these kinds of things. I'll make sure that you won't think that way about yourself ever again."

Now, she allows herself to give them a bone-crushing hug, making her giggle.

(S/O) "Thank you, Navia..."

(Navia) "It's what your wonderful girlfriend is here for, right?"

To brighten their mood, she puts her hat on them, before tilting it down and giving a cheeky smile.

Honestly? Furina completely understood the feeling, more than S/O could ever know.

She was so afraid that the people of Fontaine or that those closest to her would leave upon knowing what she was really like.

Centuries of feeling that she wasn't good enough for anyone ate away at her every night.

So to hear S/O voice the same words, thinking they weren't good enough for her?

The person who loved her despite everything? That broke her heart.

Furina's arms wrapped around their back before her head rested on their shoulders, hugging them tighter than she ever had before.

(Furina) "...Thank you for telling me, S/O."

She had no room to tell them that they shouldn't think this way about themselves. After all, she was still struggling with the very thing plaguing their mind.

(Furina) "I'll love you, no matter what you think. Because you'd do the same for me."

[accio-victuuri]

「 I AM NOT HERE 」 clowning post part iv. aka the main candy compilation now that we have the whole song. here’s part one & two & three for reference which are very short ones.

before we dive into the cpns, i wanna congratulate yibo for another exceptional song! the lyrics are so good and his voice??? his voice??? you all know the part i’m talking about— it’s singer yibo!

let’s start with this ⬆️⬆️⬆️ i think the side by side photo is self explanatory. you have xz drawing the mountains and yibo integrating himself into it and became the mountain himself. i like this whole concept of him being in nature, being all around this person even if he is not there physically as himself. this is so special too considering we always clown about them loving camping & hiking — and other outdoorsy stuff. it may be that nature reminds yibo of those happy times they spend together exploring that environment.

now let’s move on to a very yizhan-y interpretation of the song…

1. some fans have pointed out that it’s 2000 days since the 12.28 tencent starlight awards where they were together. it was post-cql and them going into new roles — a start of well, more complicated times, but they had each other. i don’t really believe too much in these anniversary cpns but i will just leave this here.

2. comparing the water theme & mountains from xz’s photoshoot before that had us all going 🥵🥵🥵, it matches the imagery from yibo’s song.

3. the official description of the song provided by music platforms gave a solid perspective of what it is all about & it’s not far off what we think it is when the teaser/s came out.

“I" is rooted in this land, connected by veins, and time and space are close to each other. "I" live in symbiosis with the mountain, breathe with you, and experience the ups and downs of life. We go through the ups and downs with all things, so the green mountains are flat, and "I" is always present.

I am here, a dialogue with the world. I AM NOT HERE, but I will always be there. This is what "I’m here" is all about. So darling, DON'T BE CRYING, Because this song is a symphony between you and me.

Let me just sit and think about this. It’s such a beautiful meaning. Their love goes beyond the romantic and it’s real. You can see it all around you.

4. Time to dissect the first half of the lyrics 🎶

Many years later // Where will I turn back and look? // Holding flowers I've never seen before // Facing toward you

this reminds us of their first meeting in the field of flowers. out of all the things he can start with, why this? also the graphics for xz’s album is an eternal flower. if we look at it further, it’s more than the literal sense too. the flower he hasn’t seen is this new feeling and having this one person that is became so important to him. the first line is also telling, cause it’s like he is looking back at that moment, many years later, out of all his time, that time is what he wants to recall.

Waving my hand // Don't stay on the lonely island // I'll become a small boat to take you to find the oasis

we knew of this line already and it’s still so romantic. it’s this person who is alone but wyb wants to take him away and help him find that oasis. oftentimes, people tend to have that selfish type of love where they want the other to be isolated. but yibo is not like that. he wants to take the person outside, see the world and fins that happiness together. and him being a small boat is too cute! like he knows he is not that strong but he will do his best to make a difference in his (xz) life and give him freedom & happiness.

My heart enters the mountains / My body sinks into the sea / All to reunite with you and return

the integration of himself with nature. how he has to sink into the sea so he can reunite with that person.

5. second part of the lyrics 🙌🏼. just a disclaimer that he had someone working with him to create this song and the lyrics, but that doesn’t mean he had 0 input. we all know how yibo is at this point and something as personal as his year-end song definitely had his approval with every line.

Falling, scattering into dust

And then being reborn

Pointing at the fireworks

in the sky, never fading

Are you there?

You just need not cry

You just need to bloom

And I will never leave

Don't be crying x 3

You don't need to wait

I'm here

I'm here

Don't be crying

i am weak for that first line, the thought of scattering into dust and being reborn. that’s some eternal love right there! we have reincarnation cpn at some point in the fandom so that feeds into that. the idea of yibo believing in that kind of love, never ending, not even in death makes me feel some type of way 🥹🥹🥹

next up is the imagery of fireworks. something he seems to be fond off per that video ybo shared before. also connect that to when xz was watching the fireworks during shooting wrap.

then it moves into him telling the person to not cry, you just need to bloom and he will never leave. I have explained the very real cpn about this whole crying thing before and it’s such a sweet sentiment! it’s a simple and honest promise, i will not make you cry. you just have to do what you want. yibo is there and will support xz as he succeeds (blooms).

and the last part is the nail in the coffin. you don’t need to wait, i’m here.

well who do we know at some point said that waiting is romantic?

hmmmmm. xiao zhan 🥰🥰🥰🥰

waiting. this word is very charming, it encourages people to expect. if you told me, someone is waiting for me, i would feel very moved. whether it’s my parents, or my lover, i feel that “waiting” is a very romantic word; to have something beautiful in the future waiting.

so this is yibo’s answer. you don’t have to. I’m here.

I hope everyone is having a fun weekend right now! listening to this new song, watching ETU and later follow yibo along at an event 🥂

-END

[aryxchse]

GIRLY I GOT YOU WITH THE LEO FICS!!!!

A fic about leo taking care of fem!reader while she's on her period and he's her portable heater

Maybe with a little NSFW if you're comfy of course 💙🤭

I LOVE YOU BESTIE💙

shark week. | leo valdez x fem! reader

a / n ; omg this is like- so genius?? girl ur my savior fr love u too 🫶🏻🫶🏻

warnings ; period, a cute leo who's too hot to handle, cramps, cursing, not proofreaded and i probably have grammar mistakes, reader a little drooling over leo, shirtless leo, vs vs.

"fuckin' hell." you whined, hugging your stomach.

you were at bunker 9, in leo's bed, but without leo. and you were on your period, not a good match.

the pain made you turn into a ball of whining mess, tossing and turning around in the bed. you already take a medicine and even vent to infirmary for this, but will shooted you out saying 'it's no big deal.'

"hurry up leo," you murmured. he was taking a shower when you arrived, which he still was. taking the grease out of his body must be hard for him.

after what felt like an eternity, leo got out from the shower with only a towel hanging lowly around his hips. he thought no one would be at his room, so he was comfortable.

he hummed a spanish song while entering his room, shaking the water of his head before yelping when he saw you.

"what in the hades- y/n! baby, you scared the shit outta me," he panted, a hand on his chest. you managed to both drool and laugh at his scared and naked self.

"sorry," you murmured, hugging your belly more. "jus' needed you but you were showering."

his confused face immediatly left itself to a soft and worried one. he excused to dress and he was fast as light about it. when he came back, with no shirt and sweatpants, you cursed internally.

"scooch over pretty," he said, voice low. you did what he said and opened a spot next you in his bed. he happily pulled you into him and nuzzled his nose in your hair. "what happened?" he asked.

"shark week." you said, snuggling him more. the natural heat of his body made you instantly relaxed, and he seemed to get that too. he pouted, playing with your hair. "poor girl." he said, his other hand finding a way into your shirt and caressing your back.

you only whined when another pain hit you, it made your head burry into his neck more. he put the hand on your hair down to your stomach, making the place warm up. "is this better?" he asked gently, making you even warmer.

"mhm." you answered. he smiled to himself and put the blanket on top of only you, since he was burning hot. he caressed the every skin he could touch with his hot fingers, and at that moment, his powers didn't seem like a curse anymore.

"don't worry pretty, i'm gonna make you feel better." he whispered, kissing on top of your head.

the start is a little rushed can u tell???

[flkwh0re]

The Devil Wears a Suit and Tie.

Contains smut.

Warnings: Readers age is not specified but she is of age, Homophobia, Blood, Puking (reader only does it once while crying), Abuse, Mentions of death, Breif thoughts of suicide, Religion, Use of a slur (once), Nat gaslights reader, Nat punches reader to knock her out, Blasphemy, Dubcon (Nat begins to fuck reader while she’s unconscious then reader wakes up and tries to fight it but eventually gives in), Fingering, Dumbification(-ish???)

Wc: 1,713

A/n: Please listen to Preachers Daughter by Ethel Cain to get the whole ideal feeling of this fic. As a woman who grew up in the south and the church, this album hits really well. Also inspired by the song ‘The Devil Wears a Suit and Tie’ By Colter Wall!

——————————⧗ᗢ——————————

It started off with your father finding out from the woman you trusted most, Carol Danvers. How could she rat you out like that to your father like that? She was your best friend, the only person who knew about your secret.

No one close to you expected you to be a lesbian, even if they called you a fag or said the way you dressed was weird, the way you acted.

He had come home in a fit rage, busting the front door down. You were sure it came off the hinges. Before you knew it, you were backed into the corner, body aching from the blows you had taken, your throat hoarse from the shouting.

You finally found the courage to run and lock yourself in your room, quickly packing a backpack. Throwing in some clothes, shoes, items dear to you, essentials, and a book.

You unfastened the window, punching through the window screen. You hiked your leg out the window and dropped down. To your dismay, your father saw you.

He bolted out the door, and you quickly jumped onto your bike. pedaling as hard as you could, trying to escape the man you feared more than God.

Your dad hadn’t always been like this, he was always more understanding. When your mother died though, he changed. He began to drink and become terribly abusive. His narcissistic behavior only worsened when he ‘strengthened his faith.’

Your breathing became uneven and ragged, exhaustion consuming your overwhelmed body. You finally gave out running off the side of the road, you slid down a hill, bumping into every rock possibly.

Once you were able to stand, blood dripped down your legs and arms. Small amounts also trickled down your face, along with sweat. Dirt and grime coated your body thickly.

You took off to a bridge you saw, climbing up under it, hoping to hide there for a few hours. You heard the loud thuds of your father's footsteps, your heart pounding with each step. He discovered your slightly mangled bike against a tree, and once he realized you were gone, he cried. You’d not heard him cry since your mother's funeral, it almost made you come out of hiding. You knew his sorrow wouldn’t last, the moment it dispersed he’d be the same man as always.

Your father had finally given up his search for you, not like he cared much anyway. His daughter was ‘one of them queers’ as he’d say. He couldn’t stand people like that, but you were his daughter. He needed to find you, he needed to help you. He knew a woman, Natasha Romanoff.

Natasha was the pastor of the local church. She hadn’t been preaching there for a while, but in her short time she’s ‘helped’ so many young men and women. Now of course her time was spent more catered towards teenagers, but she would be more than willing to help you.

Once night settled in, darkness clouded your eyes. You knew your father wouldn’t get anyone out to look for you, so you figured you’d move at night. You had to get away, and fast.

You stepped onto the main road, your small flashlight in hand that barely worked. The thick mid-June air made sweat slick your body as you walked along the gravel road. No one to your knowledge loved this way, or so you thought.

You followed the small road for what felt like an eternity, your thin tank top clung thickly to your skin. Your overheated weary body fell to the ground, you slumped over laying on your side. Salty hot tears spilled down your face. Thoughts of hatred filled your mind.

How could you disappoint your father like this? How could you betray god like this? a you felt disgusted, so disgusted that as your tears ran you began to heave. Thick bile spilled from your mouth.

If only you could just stop it all, end all your suffering right now. You wouldn’t even hesitate.

You had laid in the spot for what felt like hours, wishing some animal would find you. What found you was even worse.

The sound of a car engine, and squeaky breaks stirred you. Bright headlights blinded you. You wanted to run, you figured now someone had found you and would return you to your father.

The soft crunches of gravel echoed in your ears; a figure approached you. They leaned down and you got a good look at her face. Natasha Romanoff.

“Hey sweetheart, what in the world are you doing out here? What’s happened to ya? Oh my goodness, you’re all bloody laying in a mess of vomit. Let me get you to my house” As she tried to help you to her car you kicked and squirmed.

Loud cries of no came from you, and Natasha was beginning to become impatient. As you thrashed your body around, trying to escape the woman who would bring you to your doom, you speared blood on her spotless suit. She finally had it with you, her fist struck a heavy blow across your face. Your mind went foggy and your eyes dizzy, eventually you lost consciousness.

“If you would’ve just cooperated, I wouldn’t have had to do that.” Natasha said through gritted teeth. She picked up your limp body and carried you to her truck, softly placing you in the seats next to her.

She drove down the road until she reached another small road, turning down it. No one knew about her second life, her home hidden away in the woods. She wasn’t who everyone thought she was. In fact, she was what everyone deemed evil.

She pulled up next to a small trailer house and stepped out of her truck. Natasha stepped around to the other side, pulled you into her arms carrying you bridle style into the house. She brought you to a broken-down couch that reeked of cigarettes.

Natasha walked off to her small room to change out of her dirty, bloodied clothes. She trudged to small refrigerator to grab a beer, cracking it open and taking a big drink.

As she made her way to the couch where you were, an idea popped in her head. She peeled your tank top off your body, revealing your bra. She examined your chest and stomach, dried blood and dirt smeared on your delicate skin.

Natasha unclipped your bra, slipping it off your arms throwing it off. Her hands grope at the soft flesh of your chest. She kneels down, so she can get closer to your breast. Her mouth latches onto your nipple, licking and sucking.

You began to finally regain consciousness, once you realized what was happening your eyes shot open. “No stop! Get off of me!” You shouted, trying to wrestle the older woman off you. She grabbed your wrist in her hand, pinned them onto the arm rest of the couch.

“No baby, you need me. See.” She slipped her hand into your shirt, gathering your slick on her fingers. She removed them and showed you her fingers wet with your arousal, “See baby, now be a good girl and let me fuck you.”

Her hands unbuttoned your shorts and slipped back into your panties. Her rough fingers rubbed at your clit, then she slipped two into your dripping cunt.

A loud cry and moan left your mouth, tears spilled from your eyes. “See baby, it feels so good doesn’t it. Tell me it feels good.” She rasped as she pumped her fingers in and out of you. You weakly nod your head, but Natasha wasn’t satisfied. “No, I want words. I want to hear you say it feels good.”

“Fuck! I-it feels good Natasha.” She chuckled, “Such a dirty mouth.” She curled her fingers up into the right spot, your legs trembled and your back arched up into her. “Fuck ‘m goin’ to cum!” You moaned out, as your juices gushed onto Natasha’s fingers.

She slipped her fingers into her mouth, sucking off your slick and moaning around her digits at your taste. “Fuck baby, you taste so good. I wanna taste you from the source, but we can do that another time. Let’s get you cleaned up.”

You nodded and she helped you stand. You laid your head on her shoulder as she walked you to the bathroom. She readied the water as you slipped yourself out of your shorts. You couldn’t believe you were giving into her; she was so tempting you couldn’t even fathom saying no to her. Like a presence luring you in, like the devil themself.

“Whatcha thinkin’ about pretty girl?” She asked you. “Nothin’.. thank you thought. For this, it’s real kind of you.” She smiled, “Oh it’s nothin’ darlin’, it’s my job.”

You slipped into the warm water, and Natasha began to scrub the dirt off you. She’d give you the occasional kiss on your face, she just couldn’t help it. She’d had her eye on you for a while, she got pretty lucky tonight.

“I’ll keep you safe, don’t worry.” She spoke up, “What?” You questioned her, how would she know? “Your father already spoke to me, but don’t worry. Stay here with me, let me take care of you. I won’t say a word to him.” You nodded, “Okay, promise?” She grinned, “I promise.” She placed as soft kiss of your head, then pulled the plug.

Natasha wrapped the towel around your body and took you to her room. “Here why don’t you put these on, and I’ll grab you a sandwich. Is peanut butter okay?” You smiled and nodded.

Once you had put the clothes on she gave you, Natasha had returned with a bottle of water and the sandwich. “Eat this then we can go to bed, I bet you’re exhausted.” She said as she got into bed, motioning for you to join her. “I am.”

You finished eating, and snuggled up with Nat. She hummed you to sleep, whispering sweet nothings to you. She placed a kiss on your scalp and spoke soft words, “I won’t let anything hurt you.”

You felt safe with Natasha, you still weren’t sure what changed in you. You knew you could finally be comfortable with your life though.

Masterlist

[milkbobatyun]

goodnight, my love

pairing: arlecchino x gn!reader

genre: angstober, events

summary: the battle has been fought and won, it's time to go celebrate with her loved ones. yet, they've all fallen into eternal sleep

word count: 962

a/n: if you can't tell by this, oml arlecchino has me in a choke hold. so sad i didn't get her when i was trying to pull for her :< n e ways, i've literally been wanting to write for her for ages, hope yall enjoy !

the world around you was a choking mixture of debris and ash, smoke rising from where the house of the hearth stood. from where you lay, you could see flashes of red, and the deadly song of metal screeching against each other in a fight to death echoed through the hallways.

the mournful wind groaned through the hallways, brushing the wounds on your back with their frigid fingers.

the sun was beginning to set, its warm rays gliding down your body, as the cool night air crept in. the stars were visible from a gaping hole in the roof where you lay, looking down on you in pity.

a fiery beam shot up from the ground, the grumble and creak of the house collapsing rang out far and wide, a mournful final groan before its fall. peruere had won.

that thought alone brought a smile to your face. she was going to be a great king.

the coldness of the night seeped under your clothing, the blood coating your clothes made you shiver. clervie couldn’t stand beside peruere and watch her succeed, but you were more selfish. you wanted to stand beside her, comfort her in times of need, when she felt weak. but now, you could only pray to the archons that you could see her one last time.

from afar, you heard the familiar sound of heels, clacking along. a sound you had long since memorised. it was her. gripping a nearby rock, you tapped a much-used code against the hard floor. flashes of memories were brought back.

huddling together under the blankets, clervie cheekily warming her cold feet on you, as peruere gently scolding the two of you, love evident in her tone. listening to peruere read the two of you stories from the books in the library, your sanction in a cutthroat house. sliding your desserts to clervie, knowing her love of all things sweet.

the rhythmic steps came closer, rapid and in time with your heartbeat, running towards you. 

peruere burst around the corner, holding her breath, hoping it was you. panting and with sweat beading on her forehead, she dropped to her knees in front of your form, sprawled on the cold stone floor.

“[name],” she breathed, relief evident in her voice. “you’re alive.”

she cradled you in her arms, as though you were a treasured, porcelain doll, easily broken by a careless bump. a faint smile was on her face. she was glad, you were still alive.

you reached up, fingers brushing against the cuts on her cheek and forehead.

“you’re injured.” you point out, a sad pout on your face. “i’m feeling a little tired, but once i take a quick nap, we’ll go find clervie. she’ll help patch you up.”

peruere’s smile dropped, confusion creasing her features.

“love…” peruere’s voice was a sad whisper. “clervie… she didn’t make it.”

your mind felt foggy, your breaths becoming fast and shallow. perhaps the battle took its toll on you.

“no,” you insisted, shaking your head. “she’s right there, watching us.”

peruere turns to where your finger points, but no one is there.

“this isn’t funny anymore, [name].” peruere scolds, fear saturating her tone. it reflected in her unique pupils. she’s scared. “it isn’t the time for jokes.”

you blink owlishly up at her, looking like a lost puppy. the cold of the night is creeping into your bones and you start shivering, teeth chattering.

peruere reaches up to remove her coat, but her eyes are drawn to her hands. they’re dyed red, a deep, scarlet red. a crimson she’s familiar with. blood. you’re bleeding. it had been pooling underneath you, turning into a large puddle, painting the floor into a macabre canvas.

the world was spinning, darkness creeping across your vision like ivy. your eyelids were weighed down by lead, your panting harsh and fast.

you rest your icy hand on peruere’s soft cheek, its warmth seeping into your skin. with all your remaining strength, you flash her a cheery smile.

peruere’s breath hitched. she had seen that smile countless times.

when her and clervie surprised you on your birthday. when you woke up during your fever and saw peruere’s face hovering over you, peering down in concern. when she had praised your drawings. you beamed as though she had promised to give you the world.

her lips quivered, she couldn’t return your smile. crystalline tears pooled in her eyes, glistening under the moonshine.

with a trembling hand, you wiped at the droplets that escaped, your touch ghosting against her skin.

“don’t cry, peruere.” you comforted her, sadness clouding your eyes, water misting your vision. “it’ll make me sad, i won’t be there to wipe your tears anymore.”

“i’m just going to take a quick nap.” you promised, snuggling deep into peruere’s warmth. “i’ll wait for you in celestia.”

peruere watched you as you closed your eyes, a serene smile on your face. you looked as though you were deep in peaceful sleep.

your hand slid down her face, though she clutched it close, longing to feel your touch once more. turning your hand over, peruere placed a final, lingering kiss in the palm of your hand. 

maybe if she prayed hard enough to celestia, you would wake up again, call her name so sweetly, laugh together with her.

unshed tears clung to her lashes, hanging onto them as desperately as she cradled you in her embrace, hands sticky with your blood. she refused to let you go, even as the world around her burned.

celestia was too cruel, taking away clervie, her best friend and you, the one she loved, her whole world, whom she would burn the world for, all in one night. 

that night, arlecchino had lost her home and her family.

taglist (open): @yeonjunsfox

∧,,,∧ ( ̳• · • ̳)  © curated with love by milkbobayun 2024 / づ ♡

[revehae]

our little secret

pairing ↠ baby step-sister!ningning x (f) reader

genre .. warnings ↠ smut, stepcest, manipulation, noncon to initiate, corruption

summary ↠ your little stepsister is the only good thing to come of your father’s new marriage and you become more obsessed with her by the day, until you just can’t hold yourself back anymore.

wc ↠ 3.2k

a/n ↠ this is a repost!

don’t like it, don’t read.

no one could say that you hadn’t tried to suppress your urges, to subdue the roaring sea of thoughts that heaved wildly throughout your mind. there ningning was a siren, seducing you with her ever so enchanting song - or, in this case, her body.

the day each of you met stood a vivid memory. beforehand, you never recalled actually anticipating having a step-sibling, though all of that came to an abrupt end the very second you laid eyes on her. ningning’s beauty was so great that if not for her being your step-sister, you would have believed only aphrodite could have bore her. you became enthralled by her looks in a matter of moments, the way her skimpy clothing did nothing to conceal her body, and how she had this indelible air of innocence to her.

an eternity had passed since that fateful day, though little had changed; you were still besotted with your little step-sister, even more so now that you had become closer. 

she was just the sweetest girl. ever naive, though still sweet. you had no greater wish than to prime her into your ragdoll, to teach her that your filthy way of thinking was normal - and, of course, she would believe you. it wasn’t like anyone as impressionable as ningning knew any better.

and she was still hot. ningning possessed the utmost painful habit of walking around the house in the tiniest shorts there was to offer, tops and skirts too, bending over so much that she must have been begging for it. she was clingy, affectionate, loving to crawl into you, and during those moments you could feel her the warmth of her body flush against yours.

which, of course, did nothing but drive you mad.

ningning’s sweet voice called out your name. you always loved it when she did. given she had the voice of angel, all it made you do was imagine her sprawled out underneath you, crying out your name in bouts of pleasure. though, you steered yourself out of your reverie, responding and swiftly leaping off of the sofa to enter the kitchen where she stood. fulfilling the needs of your little sister was a pleasure to you.

before you even stepped completely into the kitchen, your eyes fell upon the sight enticing between her plush thighs. ningning was bowed over the countertop, a hand waving aimlessly at one of the cabinet shelves beyond her reach. courtesy of the tiny miniskirt she wore, her underwear was on perfect display. too, her ass, which made it all but impossible not to ogle her.

seemingly not noticing the way you leered at her, ningning glanced at you with her big, round eyes, sticking out her bottom lip. “can you help me get this cup off the shelf?”

if you weren’t already throbbing, you sure as hell were now. with a plan brewing in mind, you simply bobbed your head and walked over behind her - crotch pressed to her rear - reaching for the cup she longed to grab. you placed it on the counter before her and she broke into a smile, proceeding to thank you. you told her you’re welcome, yet when she went to move, you wouldn’t let her, snaking one arm around her waist and letting the other wander underneath her skirt.

“y/n, what are you doing?” ningning stammered, eyes widening. her hand flew to your wrist, however, her attempts to push you off were in vain.

“shh, it’s okay,” you whispered assuringly, rubbing your palm flat against the fabric of her underwear. her hand fell to her side the moment she began whimpering, and you fought back a laugh. “don’t wanna make big sis mad, do you?”

ningning shook her head. she much more preferred you like this, sweetly singing soft words in her ear, and calling her love. she thought that you were always scary when you

got angry. “good girl,” you praised gently. that alone had ningning melting into your touch, merely a warm, wet puddle at your disposal,

consuming the heat of your fingertips.

touching her, at one point, was something you thought you could only dream of. the part of you that clung to whatever bit of sanity that

dare remained within you tried to convince you that you could overcome your sick, twisted

desires, but it it was vanquished by the other part of you, of more strength and less

rationality.

and today, that other side of you had finally depleted the last of its restraint.

ningning began to grind down against your palm, desperate for the delicious feeling of friction. it wasn’t enough. “more,” she whined, using her hand at this point. “more.”

you cocked your brow. “you want more?”

she nodded her head, needily. she needed more. if there was anything she loved, it was the feeling of relief, which you were providing her with zero cost.

she tucked out her lip again, begging, “please?”

that was all it took for you to grab her by her arm, dragging her upstairs to your bedroom. it was a blessing that your parents weren’t home - it was earlier in the day, and according to them, they wouldn’t be back until later in the night. which meant you had quite a bit of time to mess around with your step-sister.

she squealed when you pushed her onto the mattress, not so gentle. though, you couldn’t bring yourself to care, not when your eyes wandered to her spread thighs as her skirt rode up. it was as though you had been possessed by a beast-like creature. you skirted behind her and lifted her back to your chest, then your hands fell back between her legs, and you yanked down her underwear.

“anyone ever touch you like this before?” you asked, fingers teasing her slit. she whimpered, greedy. more, yelled the voice at the back of her head.

ningning shook her head. 

“fuck,” you said breathily. “are you a virgin?”

this time, ningning nodded, and your desires were only fueled. she was in a position of being so easy to prime - so corruptable. 

you sank a pair of your fingers inside her cunt, watching the way her chest fell as she drew in a deepening breath. “i’ll teach you everything, ning,” you whispered, gently pressing your lips to her neck in between your sentences and watching the way her breath seemed to pick up pace. “i’ll take care of you… make you feel good… and this’ll be our little secret, right?”

ningning repeated back, “our little secret?”

“mm-hm,” you responded, curling your head so that you were looking her in her eyes. “you can keep a secret, can’t you?”

ningning’s lips parted ever so slightly, though she didn’t say anything, simply nodding after the passing of a couple of moments.

you broke into a smile. “good girl. have you ever came before?”

again, she shook her head. “i… can’t do it myself,” she whispered, coyly glancing away.

now you had to make her cum. there was no way that you would allow her to walk away from your bedroom before she had came at least once. there was one goal being harbored in your mind, and that was giving her an orgasm so intense that she’d become dependent upon you, because she knew that she’d never be able to do it on her own.

“i’ll help you,” you said, pulling your fingers away. the sullen expression that painted her face in response didn’t go unnoticed by you, and you stifled a laugh, though the grin on your face remained. 

you ventured into your closest, returning with a vibrator.

“i’m gonna use this on you, okay, love?”

whatever series of action you took following those words went unbeknownst to ningning. love. whether it was the way you said it or the word itself, there was something that made her brain short circuit.

ningning’s body was on autopilot and she didn’t even realize that she had nodded her head, or gave any semblance of a conscious reaction for that matter. she didn’t even register that she was present until she felt something against her clit, thighs shuddering shut immediately.

you spread her legs back, ordering, “gonna need you to keep those open for me, baby.”

she nodded, whispering, “sorry.”

soon enough, you were submerged beneath the sound of her moans, sweet and high-pitched. that, combined with the compulsive wriggling she couldn’t help but do, were obvious signs that your baby step-sister was the sensitive type. to your lack of surprise.

you found that you enjoyed watching her twist and squirm, whine and whimper. your eyes soaked in every little gulp she made, the rise and fall of her neck, her chest. she was unfolding at your control, a quivering mess right before your very own eyes. her pretty eyes fell closed and she dug her teeth into her plush lower lip, trying to bear the pleasure.

“how does it feel?” you asked, though already aware of the answer, if the reactions her body offered you were any response.

ningning stammered, “it’s so… much.”

“that’s normal,” you sang, unwavering. the more she squirmed the more relentless you were - not that she wanted you to stop.

in no time at all, ningning was at the point of hypersensitivity. from trying to wriggle away, she was bucking her hips into the toy, babbling about how good it felt and begging for you not to stop. like hell you would. watching her was far too entertaining.

“stomach feels… weird,” she whimpered, though not an ounce of pain met the surface. she was all pleasure, more than you were certain she had ever come to know in her life. and with you, there was plenty more where that came from.

“cum, love,” you ordered, bracing yourself for her orgasm. you had your eyes concentrated on every inch of her body, not wanting to miss the sight of her first orgasm for the world - and especially not one at your hands. “do it for me.”

when ningning came, it was unlike any other feeling she had ever experienced before in her life. she felt like she had blacked out, not entirely registering her acts of desperation as she chased the sweetest of release. her toes curled and her body shuddered with orgasm, a loud cry parting her lips as it struck her hard. it felt like she had died and been reborn in the matter of mere seconds.

she fell slack, and you caught her in your arms, dropping the vibrator and enveloping her lips into a desperate kiss. it was messy and impatient, like you had been waiting for this exact moment your whole life. the breathless look on her face when you pulled away was everything to you. she simply looked ethereal, almost as if beauty of this extent was not meant for mere mortals to view. having her in your palms felt like a privilege.

“wanna repay the favor?”

ningning blinked. it wasn’t that she didn’t want to - god knew she dreamed of touching you - but she wasn’t sure what to do.

you grabbed her hand, guiding it down your pants, and throbbed when you felt her delicate fingers against your clothed cunt. “it hurts, ning,” you lied, grinding into her palm. “don’t want me in pain, do you?”

ningning shook her head in denial. of course not. in that moment, she wanted nothing more than to touch you, to taste you for the first time. her imagination had left her with her hands between her own thighs countless times before, but she could never achieve orgasm all on her own. and now that you had given a taste of pleasure, she doubted she would ever be able to let you go.

“do you want me to use it on you?” she asked demurely, referring to the vibrator that had gone long-forgotten. 

“you can, baby,” you sighed, moving towards the center of the bed. you began to peel away your clothes, giggling when you felt the weight of her eyes heavy on your skin. “like what you see?”

ningning bobbed her head. when you were naked, she couldn’t prevent herself from gawking, soaking in the beautiful sight of you. to her, it almost seemed like a sin to even behold you. her eyes fell upon every inch of your body, aching for a touch, a taste. she wanted desperately to be in place of the toy she would use on you, and for a long time she had. thoughts of you were what kept her up at night.

she silently begged for you to satisfy her, because there was a spark of knowledge that if she could not do it herself, the only one left to fulfill the role would be you. her intuition gave her every bit of the guidance she needed.

steering her out of her reverie, you urged lightly, “what are you waiting for, silly?”

ningning partially came back to reality, and remembering she had a favor to return, she picked up the vibrator with trembling hands and slowly, yet steadily, brought the toy between your spread thighs. it was physically impossible for her mouth not to fall open the very second she caught sight of you - you glistened, and all because of her. she liked that a little too much.

she tried to mimic your actions, duplicate what you had done to her merely moments ago. somehow, you had her convulsing with an intensity that she had never before felt. it was new, and though strange, she came to enjoy it.

ningning watched very intently how your body responded to the electric toy, your chest already heaving with hollow breaths and your lips parting in light moans. if only she knew how many times you had used this exact toy on yourself, imagining her beneath you and between your thighs, pleasing you with a desperate passion. in the very late hours of the night when your parents were gone, sometimes she could hear the low buzz of your vibrator coming from your room, and would touch herself to the thought of you and your sounds, which was frustrating; she didn’t know how to make herself cum with merely her own fingers. but when you touched her, it was entirely different, otherworldly.

“fuck, ning,” you moaned. “just like that.”

the sound of you praising her had her knees weak, trembling. it was looped inside her head, the sight of you, your voice. everything. strangely enough, she felt as if she could cum from this alone, and you weren’t even touching her.

new things didn’t scare ningning. when she learned she was going to have step-family, she embraced it. when she had to move across town, she embraced it. and she was even more willing to embrace this newfound fashion of life, the pleasure and everything else you made her feel. it wasn’t the first time that she had been attracted to someone, but the intensity was new; the passion was different. you had her breath isolated in her throat and her body elevating into the clouds, with little to no effort at all.

“does it feel okay?” ningning asked, looking at you with her pretty, round eyes. 

you bobbed your head and sighed, “feels amazing, you’re doing such a good job.”

she continued using the toy, and you kept on moaning.

you were loving the way this was turning out. after what felt like an eterinity of waiting, what you wanted was finally in your grasp, and not just being dangled in front of your face on a thread. ages of being teased by her - deliberately or not - only being able to dream of what was underneath those pretty clothes she wore. your patience finally paid off, finally rewarded you with your one true desire.

and you just loved the way she was watching you, like you were plucking stars from the sky to put in her hair. she was so attentive, eyeing you with this adoration — this fascination, like she had never seen anything like this before. as far as you were concerned, she probably hadn’t.

“i’m so close, baby,” you told her. it was true; you could feel it, orgasm threatening to consume you. “don’t stop.” 

ningning obliged, because there was no way in hell she would stop until you were finished. hell, she was half-tempted to continue even afterwards, loosely recalling that it was a thing. you never seemed to stop at one when you came, anyways, that she knew from the long nights of listening in on you.

and then, your orgasm finally struck you - hard and fast. though you had been here on your own thousand times before, this time felt surreal. everything built up inside you came crashing down and you were crushed. it didn’t help that ningning was right there, eating at your reaction. to her, that alone was greater than any compliment that could escape your lips.

“still hurt?” she would ask, finally pulling the toy away. 

you shook your head, smiling - though more to yourself - and said, “nope. i feel better now, thanks to you,” and as if to say thank you, you slipped your hand back between her thighs, watching how she immediately began to writhe. 

before she could get another word in, her phone rang, startling you both. her eyes went wide. “it’s mom.”

“answer it,” you urged without a care in the world, still maneuvering your hands between her thighs and your fingers slipping into her cunt.

reluctantly, ningning swallowed, but she took a deep breath and tried to make her voice as stable as possible when she picked up the phone and said, “hello?”

you didn’t pay much attention to the words leaving her mouth, but more so the way that she said them, watching her gulp, bite her lip, and do everything in her power to contain her sounds. needless to say, she was struggling, courtesy of your relentless fingers.

“we’re doing fine. y/n? oh, she’s upstairs in her room. mm-hm. okay bye-bye, tell dad i said hey.”

when she finished speaking, she was the one to end the call, immediately dropping her phone and letting out a moan she had been trying desperately to conceal.

“we could have gotten caught,” she whined, though not holding back anymore. 

“that’s the fun part, isn’t it?” you grinned, to earn back only her pouty lips. “i’m just kidding, it’ll be okay,” you crooned, kissing her briefly. “i told you, this’ll be our little secret.”

ningning nodded. our little secret. she was content with that. 

as the days passed, you and ningning grew more and more irresistible to one another, drawn to each other’s body’s like a moth to a fly. you took advantage of every moment you had to yourselves, going for hours in each other’s rooms.

and ningning learned your ways very quickly. you recalled one time she begged you, “help me, please? it hurts,” all while pouting, hardly resisting a grin as she pretended to not know any better. it worked like magic on you, and you were dragging her to your bedroom in a matter of seconds.

your baby step-sister was going to be the death of you, but you liked it.

[perfectlyoongi]

LONG-DISTANCE!NAMJOON who has your city in the weather app on his phone. as soon as Namjoon started talking to you and felt a little flower blooming inside his heart, he was quick to add your city to his app. seeing it every day, Namjoon made sure to always remind you to wear a scarf or take your umbrella with you. whatever the weather in your city, Namjoon was always ready with little pieces of advice and reminders to make your day better. “it’s going to be quite hot there today.do you have your water bottle with you? carry a fan in your backpack and stop for some ice cream before you get home. you deserve this treat.”

LONG-DISTANCE!NAMJOON who swears the only music that warms his soul is the sound of your voice. Namjoon was in love with you. in a way, your presence in his life had made the world a worthy place to live. you were like a ray of light in the grayest of days. with your laughs and stories, you could warm Namjoon’s heart even if you were miles away. and it was in your voice that Namjoon knew the true comfort of existence. being an eternity away from you, it was in your voice that Namjoon found true love. and there was no music or symphony that could compare with the melody of your voice. “talk to me. tell me about your day. describe the sky to me. say whatever you want, but speak. i need the calm that your voice brings me.”

LONG-DISTANCE!NAMJOON who offers you a set of cards titled ‘open when…’. the world was cruel and challenging, that was a truth known to everyone; as such, Namjoon tried to make your distance less painful by writing a set of letters for you to open at specific times. from a drawing of two arms for when you need a hug, or a recipe for soup when you want comfort, an extensive array of letters were delivered to you on a blustery winter morning — and you swore the sun came out the moment you saw that set of cards. “i think i planned every possible scenario. but if you need a card and don’t find one in this set, send a text. i leave everything to write you a digital letter, just ask.”

LONG-DISTANCE!NAMJOON who says he already missed you before he met you. when he met you, Namjoon felt at peace. for some reason, since the day he met you, Namjoon stopped being so heavy. it was as if you had brought with you the garden of eden that Namjoon delighted in from the moment he met you. in a way, Namjoon’s heart stopped bleeding when the two of you formed a friendship. and oh, when his flower expanded into bushes and trees, Namjoon could feel, for the first time in years, what true happiness was. “meeting you was like coming home after a long day of work. meeting you was a comfort i already knew but had never experienced. meeting you was meeting me for the first time. and i missed you and your soul so much.”

LONG-DISTANCE!NAMJOON who writes a song about you and the distance that separates you. it was more than obvious that Namjoon would express his feelings in a song — it was the only way he knew to alleviate some of the pain he felt. but unlike all the other songs, that one was just made for you. from lyrics to melody, the song was made from scratch, always with you in mind, wanting to show you how much he loved you and how unfair fate was for having put you so far away. “i wrote this song to ease the weight of my heart. it’s a simple poem about my feelings, but i want you to know that my entire soul is forever engraved here. and only for you.”

LONG-DISTANCE!NAMJOON who reads to you every night. fairy tales never sounded so innocent when uttered by Namjoon’s tender lips. telling you various adventures and love stories, Namjoon read to you every night before you went to sleep, hoping that his voice would be enough to bring you some comfort even though he was on the other side of the phone. with delicate words and graceful pronunciations, Namjoon lulled you into a deep sleep at the end of an extremely exhausting day — a reminder that he would always be just a call away from you. “today i want to do something different. when i went to the cafe, i heard a conversation between two strangers and i would like to repeat it to you. it’s about a flower’s love for water.”

LONG-DISTANCE!NAMJOON who left everything behind just to be able to hug you. Namjoon was at a stage in his life where only you mattered. yes, he loved his friends. yes, he loved his family. yes, he loved his job. but, oh, how he loved you. the world only made sense because Namjoon knew you existed; all light came from you, all happiness came from you, all life came from you. you were the world to Namjoon and he didn’t mind leaving all his other loves behind if it meant having you in his arms for the first time. “my heart was begging to come home. i really needed to see you. we spent a lot of time apart. now i’m here. now i’m home. me and my heart are at home.”

[thyras]

I saw that you were accepting requests and I couldn't miss this opportunity. I follow your account and I really like your writing! I thought of something like Sauron and the reader have been together since Morgoth, but with Sauron's return and his contact with Galadriel, the reader begins to be uncertain about his feelings. So when she leaves Eregion late at night, Adar finds her and takes her to his camp days before Halbrand arrives. Adar could suspect that Sauron is Halbrand and tries to use his wife as bait. But you can obviously write however you like. English is not my language, so I apologize for any mistakes! :)

It is perfectly okay!

I had a hard time thinking where I wanted to go with this, but it came to me in a dream (hehe, divine intervention), and I really went from there, honestly. I took some parts of your request and kind of morphed them a little. I hope that is okay, but the bones are still there. So sorry this took so long, though. final exams and papers are in full swing and it's taking everything out of me.

→ luminary

PAIRING → sauron | mairon | halbrand x f!Maia!reader

WORD COUNT → 4.9k words

WARNINGS → soft!sauron, lies, obsessions, manipulation, etc.

SUMMARY → you have been with sauron since he was a servant of aulë, though now centuries later you have doubts. but with doubts come dangers not even a maia can be saved from.

AUTHORS NOTE → i tried a different style of writing this as I usually write in past tense so it's probably utter garbage and does not flow properly but hey i tried. reader does have a name that yavanna gave her when she was in her service, and is referred to a few times. but I do not reference anything that would take away from the reader's perspective.

In the days before the shadow fell over the world, before the Valar waged their war on the darkness and the light of the Two Trees was lost, you walked among the Maiar as one of Yavanna's most cherished. She called you Nelyanna, for your voice carried the essence of the Music of the Ainur, coaxing flowers from the earth and bidding forests to rise in splendor. Your song was the song of growing things, of roots and leaves that drank deeply of the light, and your heart burned fiercely for the beauty of Arda.

As a servant of Yavanna, you often found yourself in the halls of Aulë, her husband. Among the clamor of hammers and the blaze of forges, you first saw him: Mairon, golden and shining, whose mastery of craft and subtlety of thought stood unmatched. He was unlike any you had ever known. Where others toiled contentedly, he sought perfection, driven by a restless ambition that burned brighter than the forge-fire.

At first, you admired him from a distance, enchanted by the elegance of his work, the way his hands shaped metal into wonders. His voice, when he spoke, was a low and captivating murmur, like a storm on the horizon. But his mind held you, sharp and vivid, full of visions that reached far beyond the present. He spoke of perfecting the world's flaws, of reshaping Arda into something eternal.

You did not see the danger in his words nor the shadow that began to coil around him. How could you? Your heart was so full of faith in the light of creation that you believed in the goodness of all things. Slowly, you came to know him, and your presence seemed to soothe the storm within him. Together, you spoke of creation, life's wild and untamed beauty, and how it might be ordered into something more significant.

What began as fascination became something deeper. You felt it in every note of your song, a pull stronger than you could name. When he spoke, his gaze pierced through you like sunlight breaking through a forest canopy, warm and unwavering. In him, you saw not only his brilliance but a yearning that mirrored your own: a longing to create, understand, and belong.

But whispers of discontent began to ripple through the halls of the Valar. You noticed the change in him, how his light grew darker, his ambition sharper. He spoke of Morgoth, the fallen Vala who sought dominion over Arda, and his words carried a dangerous allure. Mairon did not see Morgoth as a tyrant but as a visionary, someone bold enough to challenge the flaws of Eru's design.

Others turned from him, their hearts heavy with fear and mistrust. Yet you could not. You had seen the light in him, the brilliance beneath the shadow, and you clung to the hope that it might prevail. He was your sun, and you, a flower bending toward his radiance.

When he made his choice—when Mairon turned to Morgoth and the dark halls of Angband—he came to you. His voice was soft, his words entreating, as he spoke of a new order, a world remade.

A power over the flesh.

He asked you to choose: to remain untouched and safe among the green fields of Yavanna or to follow him into the unknown.

Your heart wavered. Could you leave the forests, the meadows, the songs of life you had nurtured? But then you looked at him, at the fire in his eyes, and you could not turn away. You told yourself you might save him, that your light might temper his growing darkness.

And so you left. You turned from the green fields and walked into the shadow, following him. The air grew colder with every step, and the light dimmer. Yet you hoped, still you sang, and you believed, even as the weight of the dark pressed on your spirit.

In time, the world would remember Mairon by a name spoken in fear and hatred, but your story would fade like a forgotten note, lost to history. Still, somewhere deep inside you, even as the dark wrapped tighter around you, you would remember the sun and the green fields of your beginnings.

And you would wonder if the flower you had once been might ever bloom again.

The golden afternoon light bathed Eregion in a warm glow, and its white towers rose proudly against the mountains. The city thrummed with life, its forges alive with the fires of creation and the voices of Elves. You lingered at the city's edge, your gaze drifting to the distant horizon, where the mountains seemed to touch the sky. There, your thoughts often wandered, searching for answers to a question you dared not voice aloud.

You felt an unease deep within you, a faint pull like a thread tugging at your spirit. For weeks, you had sensed something shifting, something drawing nearer. It was not fear but anticipation, a quiet certainty that he was coming. You could not say how you knew, only that you did. Mairon. Sauron. Whatever guise he had taken, the thread that connected you had begun to hum once more.

The sound of horns at the gates startled you from your thoughts. You turned toward the commotion, your heart quickening. A flurry of hooves approached the gatehouse, the figures indistinct against the shimmering heat of the sun. As they approached, you saw an Elf clad in battle-worn armor leading the way, her golden hair catching the sunlight. She supported a figure as she helped them off the horse, his weight leaning heavily against her before guards moved to assist her. You felt the air shift even at a distance, and your breath caught.

It was him.

Your feet moved before your mind could catch up, carrying you toward the gates. Elves gathered, curious but cautious, as the group passed through the threshold. Galadriel—the Lady of Light herself, though you had never seen her before—moved to speak with Lord Celebrimbor and Elrond, though you could not hear what the three were saying. The coppery-haired man stumbled, barely able to stand, his tunic torn and stained with blood. You hesitated in the shadow of the crowd, your heart pounding.

Celebrimbor said something to the guards that was inaudible to you, but the guards moved to follow his orders, though you remained frozen. His face was obscured, turned away from you as they carried him into the forge, but you knew. You would always know. The air around him was heavy, resonating with the faintest trace of power—perhaps diminished but unmistakable. You stepped forward, your hands trembling as they disappeared behind the doors.

Galadriel turned her gaze to you briefly, her eyes sharp but puzzled. "Do you know him?" she asked, her voice curious but wary as you walked over to the group.

You hesitated, the words caught in your throat. Finally, you shook your head. "No," you lied softly. "But I… I can help. If you'll allow it."

She studied you for a moment longer, then nodded. "Come, then."

You followed them into the chamber, your thoughts spinning. The room was quiet, the golden light of a single lantern casting long shadows on the walls. They laid him on a low bed, his breathing shallow but steady. Galadriel spoke briefly with the healers, her voice low and firm, before she turned back to you.

"Stay with him," she said, her tone gentler now. "He may wake disoriented. It is better if there is someone here."

You nodded, unable to meet her eyes. She lingered a moment longer, then left, her presence fading like a beam of light withdrawing from the room as she spoke with Elrond quietly outside the door's threshold. When they finally departed, you exhaled, the tension in your chest easing slightly.

You moved to his side, kneeling by the bed. His face was pale beneath the grime and blood, his features softer than you remembered. His manly face almost resembled the one you had met him with. Though with this face, stubble traveled across his chin and cheeks, and he held less of that glow he had. But it was still there, deep inside, and only for you to see.

The years—or perhaps the ages—had worn on him, stripping away the veneer of power he had once carried so effortlessly. And yet, even now, he was unmistakable. Your fingers hovered above his face, trembling as you brushed the damp coppery strand from his brow.

"You found your way back," you whispered, barely audible. "I always knew you would."

He stirred faintly, his head turning slightly toward you. His eyelids fluttered but did not open, his breathing hitching before settling again. You stayed where you were, your heart aching with the weight of centuries. The bond between you hummed faintly, a reminder of what had been, of the light you had seen in him even when all others saw only shadow.

The door creaked open behind you, and you turned to see one of the healers entering with fresh linens and salves. She looked at you briefly but said nothing, her gaze curious but kind. You rose and stepped back, allowing her to tend to him, though your eyes never left his face.

"Will he recover?" you asked quietly.

The healer nodded. "His injuries are severe, but he is strong. He will heal with time."

You nodded, relief and trepidation warring within you. As the healer worked, you moved to the corner of the room, where you could watch without drawing attention. When she left, promising to return later, you stepped forward again, your hand brushing against his. His skin was warm, his pulse steady beneath your fingertips.

For hours, you stayed by his side, unwilling to leave. The city beyond carried on as it always did, but for you, the world had narrowed to this room, to the fragile rise and fall of his chest. You did not know what he would say when he woke or if he would even remember you. But you had waited for this moment for centuries and would not falter now.

When his eyes finally opened, softly green like the pastures you used to tend in Aman and piercing even in their weakness, you felt your breath catch. His gaze found yours, and for a fleeting moment, recognition flickered there; even in the deepest of guises, he could tell it was you: his heart, his light in the darkness.

"Nelyanna," he rasped, his voice rough but unmistakable.

You smiled faintly, your hand tightening around his. "Yes," you said softly. "Nelyanna."

And though the shadow of his past loomed over you both, the thread that bound you felt whole again for the first time in ages.

The days after his arrival were a haze of whispered tension and unanswered questions. Mairon—no, Halbrand, as he called himself now—recovered swiftly under the care of the Elves, his wounds healing faster than they had any right to. He was different now, quieter, his once-burning ambition masked behind a veneer of humility. But you saw the familiar glint in his eyes when he spoke to Celebrimbor, the calculated precision in his words. He was a master of deception, as he had always been.

What unnerved you most, however, was the way his gaze lingered on Galadriel in those days that followed.

You told yourself it was nothing. After all, she had brought him to Eregion. It was only natural that he would be drawn to her—a powerful Elf whose light radiated an intensity few could match. But you knew him too well to ignore the subtle signs: the way his eyes followed her in the forge or courtyard and how his tone shifted when he spoke of her, tinged with something you could not name.

At first, you tried to dismiss your fears. You reminded yourself of the bond between you, the centuries you had waited for, the sacrifices you had made to follow him into shadow. But as the days passed, the unease in your heart grew. You began to see the pattern: how he subtly positioned himself to be near her and encouraged her trust. His words were carefully chosen, always flattering but never overt, weaving himself into her thoughts like a strand of her light.

One evening, as the city settled into twilight, you found him alone in the courtyard underneath one of the lone trees in the city. He was seated on a low stone bench, his face tilted toward the sky as though lost in thought. The sight of him, so seemingly serene, only deepened your resolve.

"You’re spending a great deal of time with her," you said, your voice soft but firm.

He turned at the sound of your voice, his expression unreadable. For a moment, he said nothing, then gestured for you to sit beside him. You hesitated before complying, the tension between you as palpable as the golden light fading from the horizon.

"She interests me," he said finally, his tone even. "Her strength, clarity—It is rare to see such light untainted."

Your chest tightened. "And what do you intend to do with it?" you asked, trying to keep the tremor from your voice. "You and I both know you do not fixate on things without a reason."

He studied you, his green eyes sharp and piercing. "You think I have ill intent," he said, almost accusing.

"I think you have a purpose," you replied. "You always do."

He smiled faintly, a flicker of the charm that had once captivated you. "Perhaps I do," he admitted. "Galadriel’s light is—unique. It is a beacon, a force capable of uniting even the most divided hearts. It is a light this world sorely needs."

"And you think to wield it," you said, your voice laced with disbelief. "You would use her for our plans."

"I would heal Middle-earth," he said, his voice low but fervent. "Look around you, Nelyanna. This world is broken and fractured by conflict and mistrust. Galadriel has the power to inspire and lead. With her, we could bring order to the chaos."

His conviction sent a shiver down your spine. "She’s not a tool, Mairon," you said, using his true name deliberately and sharply. "She is not something for you to mold into our vision."

He flinched at the name but recovered quickly, his expression hardening. "And what would you have me do?" he asked, his tone bitter. "Stand idle while this world crumbles? I see a chance to make things right, to shape Arda into what it was always meant to be. Would you deny me that?"

"That’s not what this is about," you said, your voice rising. "This is about you. You can tell yourself it’s for Middle-earth, but I know you. This is your ambition, your obsession. And now you’ve turned it on her, seeking power when you already have such power by your side."

For a moment, heavy and unyielding silence hung between you. He looked at you, his eyes filled with anger and something deeper—raw, almost pleading.

"You think I don’t care for you," he said quietly. "That you’ve waited all this time for nothing."

Your throat tightened. "What I think is that you’ve forgotten what truly matters," you said. "You are so consumed by your need to control and shape that you cannot see the cost." Tears threatened to fall now. "My love, Mairon, it is the cost."

He reached for your hand, his grip firm but not unkind. "You matter to me," he said, his voice softer now. "You always have. But this—this is something greater. Something I cannot ignore."

You pulled your hand away, the distance between you feeling like an unbridgeable chasm. "If you go down this path, there may be no coming back," you said, your voice trembling. "You think you can use Galadriel’s light without corrupting it, but you’ve forgotten the shadow you carry. It will twist everything it touches, including her." You pause. “Look what it did to me.”

His expression darkened, and for a moment, you saw the flicker of the Sauron you had once known, the master of ambition and cunning. "You underestimate me," he said, his tone cold. "And her."

You rose to your feet, your heart heavy. "Perhaps I do," you said. "But I will not stand by and watch you lose yourself again. Not this time."

As you turned to leave, his voice stopped you. "You won’t leave me," he said, a note of desperation beneath his words. "You never have."

You paused your back to him, tears threatening to spill again. "Perhaps I should have," you whispered before walking into the growing shadows.

Behind you, the garden fell silent except for the faint rustle of leaves in the evening breeze. And as you left him there, you wondered if, this time, the thread that bound you might finally snap.

Eregion was quieter now, but it felt like a shadow had passed over the city, dimming its light. You walked through the streets, the familiar paths that had once comforted you, now stirring only heartache. His presence lingered here, like the echo of a melody you couldn’t forget, no matter how desperately you wanted to.

He had left. After revealing himself to Galadriel, after his ambitions had been laid bare, he had vanished as suddenly as he had come. His departure had been like a blade to your heart, not because you hadn’t expected it, but because it solidified what you had long feared: Mairon, the husband you had loved, was gone, replaced by Sauron’s consuming obsession with power and control.

You had stayed for a time, hoping he might return and seek you out, not as Sauron but as the man you once knew. But he hadn’t. And now you could no longer bear to remain. His shadow hung too heavy here, his presence a ghost you could not escape.

It was time to leave.

You stood on the outskirts of the city, where the wildflowers grew untamed. The soft hum of your song rose on the breeze, a farewell melody. You had sung this tune countless times over the ages, but now it carried a new weight, a finality you had never felt before. You knelt among the flowers, your fingers brushing their delicate petals as if saying goodbye to the life you had built here.

"I thought you might come to your senses," you whispered into the stillness, your voice breaking. "I thought you might remember who you were. Who we once were."

The breeze carried no reply, only the faint rustle of leaves. You closed your eyes, swallowing the lump in your throat. He wouldn’t come. He had made his choice, and you had made yours.

As the sun descended below the horizon, you rose to your feet and turned toward the road away from Eregion. You didn't have a clear destination in mind, only the need to leave. You couldn’t follow him anymore—not down his chosen path. His quest to dominate, to twist Middle-earth to his will, was one you could no longer justify, no matter how deeply you had once believed in that path.

But leaving wasn’t easy. Eregion had been a sanctuary where you had tried to find solace and clung to the last threads of hope for your husband’s redemption. Walking away felt like tearing a piece of your dark soul from your body, but you knew it was the only way forward. If you stayed, his shadow would consume you as it had consumed him, and you would fall into the same madness.

As you began to walk, the soft crunch of your footsteps on the dirt road filled the silence. Each step felt heavier than the last, but you pressed on. The road stretched before you, winding into the distance, and you didn’t look back.

You had just passed the last of Eregion’s outlying homes when a voice stopped you. It was warm and even. There was no hint of malicious intent, only the warmth you craved from him.

"You’re leaving."

You froze, your breath catching. Slowly, you turned, and there he was. He stood a short distance away, his shadowy figure watching you, the evening light casting his face in sharp relief. His eyes burned with the same fire you had always known, but now there was something else there—something raw, almost desperate.

"I am," you said, your voice steady despite the storm raging in your chest. "There’s nothing left for me here."

He took a step closer, his movements slow, measured. "You can’t mean that," he said, his tone quiet but firm. "We’ve been through too much—"

"You left," you interrupted, your voice rising. "You left, Mairon. You revealed yourself to Galadriel, exposed your plans, and vanished without a word. What did you expect me to do? Stay here, waiting for you to return so you can pull me into whatever scheme you’ve concocted next?"

He flinched at the sharpness of your words, but he didn’t look away. "You don’t understand," he said, his voice softening. "Everything I’ve done, everything I’ve worked for—it’s for us. For our redemption. I need power to achieve it. Galadriel—her light—she could have been—"

"Don’t," you said, cutting him off. "Don’t try to justify it to me. Not anymore."

You stepped closer to him, your hands trembling at your sides. "I loved you, Mairon," you said, your voice breaking. "I loved you so much that I followed you into shadow, believing in your vision, believing in you. But I can’t do it anymore. Not when your vision means a web of schemes that involve taking something you already have by your side. I was your light for ages, Mairon, but I guess your darkness dimmed me out too much."

His jaw tightened, and for a moment, you thought he might argue, might try to pull you back into his web of ambition. But then his shoulders sagged, and the fire in his eyes dimmed. "I never wanted to lose you," he said quietly.

"Then you shouldn’t have lost our vision," you replied, the words heavy with sorrow.

For a long moment, the two of you stood in silence, the space between you filled with all the things left unsaid. Finally, you turned away, the ache in your chest nearly unbearable.

"Goodbye, Mairon," you said, your voice barely above a whisper. "I hope one day you find what you’re looking for."

You didn’t wait for a response. You walked away, your steps resolute, even as tears blurred your vision. The road ahead was uncertain, but it was yours, unshadowed by his ambitions.

And though your heart ached with every step, you knew you had made the right choice. No matter how deeply intertwined, some paths were never meant to be walked together.

The woods outside Eregion were dense and quiet; the only sounds were the rustle of leaves in the evening breeze and the crunch of your boots on the dirt path. The road was lonely, stretching far into the wilderness, but the solitude was a balm to your frayed spirit. Every step away from Eregion, away from him, felt like tearing yourself apart, but it was a pain you had chosen. It was better this way.

Or so you told yourself.

The sun was setting, casting long shadows across the forest floor, when the attack came. It was silent at first—too silent. The birds stopped singing, the wind stilled, and an oppressive weight settled in the air. Your instincts screamed, and you reached for the dagger at your belt, but it was too late. The first blow came from behind, knocking you to the ground. Hands grabbed at you, rough and clawed, dragging you to your knees.

Orcs. At least a dozen of them, their blackened armor blending with the shadows of the trees. Their eyes glinted with cruel delight as they bound your hands and stripped you of your weapon. You struggled, but their strength was overwhelming, their snarling laughter mocking your defiance.

"Leave me," you hissed, your voice sharp despite the fear rising in your chest. "You’ve got no quarrel with me."

One of the orcs leaned close, its breath hot and foul. "It's not us you should be worried about," it sneered. "He’s waiting for you."

Before you could ask who, a burlap sack was pulled over your head, plunging you into darkness.

When the sack was removed, you found yourself in a clearing lit by the orange glow of a fire. Orcs milled about, their guttural voices and harsh laughter filling the air. The largest of them loomed nearby, sharpening crude blades, while others eyed you with suspicion or amusement. But it was the figure seated by the fire that drew your attention.

Adar.

He sat calmly, his face illuminated by the flickering flames. His features were sharp, almost elven, but twisted with a darkness that seemed to radiate from him. His eyes, cold and calculating, locked onto yours as the orcs shoved you forward, forcing you to kneel before him.

"So," he said, his voice smooth and low, "I see our paths have crossed again, my lady."

You glared at him, refusing to show fear. "If you mean to kill me, get on with it," you said, your voice steady despite the rapid beat of your heart.

Adar chuckled, a sound devoid of warmth. "Kill you? No. You are far more valuable alive."

He leaned forward, studying you as though you were a puzzle to be solved. "You carry the stench of him," he said, his lip curling. "Sauron. Mairon. Halbrand. Whatever name he uses now. You’ve been bound to him longer than I imagine, Nelyanna,”

You stiffened at his words, your fists clenching against the bindings. Adar smiles weakly at you as he knows he has broken your facade by calling you by who he knew you as. The fallen goddess, forever bound to her shadow. You had been there when he struck that blow; you had watched as he murdered the being you loved. Stood idly by as your beloved husband choked on his ambitions and his black blood.

Finally, you regained your voice and gazed into your captor's eyes. "I have nothing to do with him anymore," you said. “I left him. I want no part of his plans."

Adar’s expression darkened, his eyes narrowing. "You may think you’ve left him, but you don’t understand what you are to him, do you?" He rose to his feet, his presence commanding as he paced around you. "You are a thread in his tapestry, a piece of his grand design. Even now, I can feel his faint pull through you."

His words sent a chill down your spine, but you refused to let him see your fear, for Maiar were never supposed to fear anything less than them. "If you think you can use me to reach him, you’ll be disappointed," you said, your voice firm. "He doesn’t care about me anymore."

Adar stopped, his gaze piercing. "Oh, he cares," he said. "You are his weakness, his flaw. For all his cunning, for all his power, he cannot sever his connection to you. And that is why you are so important."

He crouched before you, his face inches from yours. "I will use you, yes," he said, his voice soft but deadly. "Not as a tool for his schemes, but as bait. He will come for you. He cannot resist. And when he does…" His eyes gleamed with malice. "I will end him. For good."

Your heart raced, your mind spinning with the implications of his words. Adar was no mere villain; he was driven by hatred, by a desire to see Sauron’s end at any cost. And now, you were caught in the middle of his web.

"You’re wrong," you said, though your voice wavered.

Adar’s smile was cold. "We shall see," he said. He rose, gesturing to the orcs. "Cage her. Ensure she is watched at all times. For she is just as deceitful as he is."

They grabbed you roughly, dragging you toward a crude iron cage at the edge of the camp. As the door slammed shut behind you, you sank to the ground, your thoughts racing. You had left Eregion to escape him, to free yourself from the shadow of his ambitions. And yet, here you were, once again, a pawn in the game that Sauron’s existence seemed to cast upon the world.

You stared out of the bars of your cage, the orcs sharpening their weapons and preparing for the battle that would ensue. And in the quiet of the night, you whispered a plea, not to the Valar nor the stars, but to the man you had once loved.

"Don’t come for me," you murmured, tears slipping down your cheeks. "Please, don’t."

[kudouusagi]

Pash Utsumi Hiroko Interview

It's sure to be a heartwarming, Fan & Fun experience!

It's about the moments you weren't able to see in the main series.

--Looking back at the scenario meetings, is there anything that stands out in your memory?

Like the fact that there was a longer version where (series writer) Ookouchi Ichirou, the producers, and I all came up with ideas for what to do in the OVA and decided on it, only to realize it didn't fit into the time limit plan I came up with myself and so it was rejected (laughs). Of course Reki and Langa are the main characters so they're going to appear in the OVA but we really wanted to include them all... and that would be difficult to do in one story so we made it into an omnibus format.

--What do you want people to pay attention to in this OVA?

I'd like it if you could check which scenes were shown in the PV. For example, Reki and the others play karuta, but what kind of karuta is it? Who's playing against who? Will Langa, who is bad at reading and writing, be okay?! In the part with Sakurayashiki and Nanjo set in the past, what was their high school life like? What were their fights like back then? How developed are Nanjo's muscles?! Also, the unknown life of Kikuchi, which was kept top-secret in the main story, is revealed...!?! And more!

--Please tell us about what you remember when looking back on recording the voices for this OVA.

I was happy to see that Hatanaka Tasuku-san, who plays Reki, and Kobayashi Chiaki-san, who plays Langa, were still the same Reki and Langa even though several years had passed. I didn't feel any time had past... ∞(eternal) Friendship! It was also memorable how Koyasu Takehito-san, who plays Ainosuke, struggled with a certain scene. Look forward to finding out which scene it was! It had been a while since I last did the voice recording for SK8, and it brought back memories for me, making me feel like SK8 was back!

--What exactly is the theme for this OVA...?

Since it is an omnibus format, there is no overall theme, but they're each filling a gap that wasn't able to be seen in the main story.

--In order to get to know the characters more deeply before the OVA is released, are there any behind-the-scenes details that you haven't revealed yet (that you couldn't show in the first season of the TV series)?

The different headband Reki is wearing in the OVA PV is a souvenir present from his sister Koyomi. It's shaped like an akabeko with a tiger pattern... it's quite unique. Reki only wears it at home. Langa doesn't care about clothes, so he'll wear anything that's comfortable to move in, so he's wearing something strange this time. Please check out the OVA to find out the details☆

--For those who are rewatching the first season of the TV series, what are some of the points you would like people to pay special attention to?

Don't miss anything! The relationship between MIYA and Reki, the outcome of Hiromi's fleeting love, the current fight scenes between Sakurayashiki and Nanjo, the vibe of the master and dog relationship between Ainosuke and Kikuchi, etc. The bond between Reki and Langa through the whole series and how it develops into friendship, keeps your eyes peeled on it till the very end!! And since the theme song for this OVA was created with the TV series in mind, so I'm certain it will improve your understanding if you watch the whole series and think of it while listening to it☆

--Finally, please give a message to the fans of "SK8". 

We're sorry to have kept you waiting for so long, but thanks to everyone who has been waiting that the day we can finally deliver it to you is fast approaching...! There's only a few more sleeps till the OVA is here ♬ How about going to the cinema to watch "SK8 EXTRAPART" as the finale to your New Year's celebrations? It's sure to be a heartwarming, Fan & Fun experience! Please look forward to its release☆

[yuellii]

aurora borealis green

feat. miko, kazuha, ningguang, thoma, lisa ( separate )

𝐈𝐍 𝐖𝐇𝐈𝐂𝐇 they are so obviously in love with you

( or, in which i tie them to a taylor song i’ve been crazing over, but you don’t have to listen or know the songs to read / understand )

note. reader’s gender unspecified, implication of sexual intimacy ( for miko, the others do not have this )

> part one ( more characters ) / part two

YAE MIKO. false god

Her affections stemmed from a sort of sightless faith.

When she leans back downwards, pink strands all messily cascading down her shoulders, she plants the lightest of kisses on the bare stomach of your laying form. But you could tell such a small act was still the most holy of worships, almost as if she was kissing the ground of a path to an alter.

“You were so divine,” she whispers, lips plump against your skin. And it feels like sin, almost, to have the Yae Guuji speak to you as if communion was melting on her tongue. “I wonder what God I pleased to ever deserve you…” It a mumble that’s so casually said, one that is only spoken between divinity and its loyal follower.

And said loyalty was etched into her name, truly, coursing through the way her fingers traced along your hips. They were gentle, almost akin to worship.

You were no God. And yet, there was a blind faith in her eyes that swore to the Heavens about the things she would do for you—to wait centuries, to topple down Celestia, to defy the Gods themselves, all for you. But was faith really blind, when the taste of religion danced upon the lines of her lips?

You may be no God, but you were her only diety. Oh, how the real Gods of this world were probably glaring down on you now—to see the Grand Narukami shrine maiden laying atop your body in a manner of worship that was only meant for sanctity. A manner so sacred, one that she should only show to the reigning Celestia and never to you.

But when she loves you more than the Gods, you might just get away with it.

⎯ ✧ ⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

KAEDEHARA KAZUHA. cornelia street

He met you at sea, a Liyuen shipmate on the carefree Crux.

Carefree: He’d say that word was a great way to describe you. You were like the ocean, so unbelievably unpredictable and characteristically carefree. He swore he saw the serenity of the sea in your spirits—and when he introduced himself with a mere ‘Hello, I’m Kazuha,’ your smile in return may have haunted him for an eternity that the God of Electro could not even dare to recreate.

Kazuha grows to love the sea at the same time he grows to love you. Wishing waters practically spell out your name, and he thinks of you in a way that harmonizes to the nature of this world.

Such harmony proved to be naive, however, on one trip where Beidou sadly proclaimed you were not on this journey, and he felt sick to his stomach. It was the first time he got seasick. It was the first time ever since he step foot out of Inazuma that he felt so drearily dizzy, and it was when you were not there.

The ocean felt lonesome, he felt incomplete. And being surrounded by its ferocious vastness felt so scarily suffocating that even the sounds of waves would haunt him in his sleep.

Then it was quite telling, truly, when the moment he docked onshore, the light of your eyes greeting him with the crinkling scent of the sea came to cure his feverish feelings. He was well again, suddenly the waves felt so kind—and perhaps that was when he realized that harmony was a silly ideal; you are the ocean itself to him. Love so powerful, so beautiful, and yet so calming: his love for both was a bind he could never break.

And if he ever lost you, he’d never set sail again.

⎯ ✧ ⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

NINGGUANG. paper rings

Kiss her once and take her to an high-end dinner, kiss her twice with a diamond ring, three times if you book the most expensive wedding in Teyvat.

That’s what she expected from the thoughtless men and cheap women of this world. Because she liked shiny things, and diamonds were a girl’s best friend. Only price tags for a woman so bejeweled—only luxury for the leading lady of a nation. But when it was you… Oh, when it was you…

In plastic gifts, in picture frames, in paper rings, you were still the one she wanted. Several times, she’s been offered the most dazzling a of rings by businessmen and high class women for a life of luxury. And yet, the one time you jokingly folded her a little paper origami ring that was too big for her finger, she felt her heart flutter in ways that could only be described in poetry written by hopeless romantics.

She wore it for the day, even taping it down to be tighter on her wedding finger. She was even sad when the paper eventually ripped, as if this ring held more value than any other ring she was ever offered. Rings that cost millions, rings that were dug up from the deepest and most dangerous mining sites of Teyvat—still beat by a ring made from thin paper.

The entirety of riches and the entirety of the elite, all forever beat by her simple lover who gave simple gifts.

But she didn’t mind. If you got down on one knee now and proposed to her with another paper ring and the most modest of smiles on your face, she would say yes even quicker than a heartbeat. Her heart would flutter, her mind would blank, her body would break down into the happiest of sobs until she’s sinking into your arms.

If another person proposed to her now with promises much more expensive than yours—promises that would fulfill the dreams of wealth from her childhood—she knows she would say no, it was more than obvious to her now.

She wants all of you. All your companionship, your complications, your confessions; Because in her values, they were all priceless.

⎯ ✧ ⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

THOMA. gold rush

What must it be like to grow up consciously carefree?

What must it be like to grow up so beautiful, that you could have all of Inazuma trailing your footsteps for just a glance? To have both Kamisatos eyeing you, to be so carelessly happy even under the scrutinizing eyes of the elites—as if not even threats of losing your nobility could stop you from being such a fun-loving person. And even if you had pressure like that, you were still rolling as life went on, still with a smile that he so adored—

Thoma just slapped himself back into the real world.

Adoration? For someone so beautiful and so out of his reach? Really? He grumbled some scoldings to himself as he held the broomstick in one hand and his stinging cheek in the other.

He had such a stupid mind for daydreaming of such things; in fact, these thoughts weren’t even the worse of his colorful collection. Sometimes he’d think about what it would be like to actually be in love with you.

But they were such nice thoughts, really. Just the idea that he would get to see someone so gorgeous every day. He could imagine himself cooking up meals with all his love, taking care of your things just for you to return to him after your busy meetings to his adoring arms. And he’d do it all, really, anything to allow you to continue being so happy and so healthy while still remaining an Inazuman noble.

He just slapped himself again.

Who was he kidding? He didn’t have even the slightest of chances, not when everyone loved you, not when everyone wanted to be with you, and certainly not when everyone who admired you was at a better standing of nobility than he was.

You’re so easy to love… But he’s so easy to forget.

⎯ ✧ ⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

LISA MINCI. tolerate it

If your life was one of the books in this Favonius library, then perhaps she would only be a footnote on some random page in the middle.

Perhaps she should be glad at how aware she is, but the sense of awareness only made her more frustrated than before. Because awareness meant that she knew her place in your life ( or, the lack thereof ), and knowing her place meant that she willingly ignored all the signs that pointed her to turn away.

Your friendly smiles, your distracted looks, your mild toleration: they should have been enough to tell her you weren’t interested. You only smile at her as a friend, you look distracted when she speaks to you, and your toleration was probably the worse of all.

Toleration meant you’d continue to overlook her; Toleration meant that all these advances she made were fruitless. It would mean that every favor she did for you like a little library servant was just a waste of her time.

And yet, she still did them. She still delivered all the books you requested right to your study table in the library, plus even more books related to your topic. She still told you all the information she knew on details you requested, even if they took hours to explain. Worse, she still adored you enough to pipe up every time you called her name, just happy to hear it.

But maybe you were like Jean, and maybe you were like the rest of them—you just thought she was lazy. Maybe all these acts of services were just seen to you as a part of her job instead of sleeping during her hours all day. Perhaps it isn’t as big of a deal to you like it is to her.

Because when all you give her is a little friendly smile after she exerts her love and time to you, she feels defeated even more.

[ginkgo-phyta]

Can I request Spencer (later seasons, post prison era) gifting his gf an initial necklace, but the pendant is his initial?

i.e.

"This is nice, Spence, but my name doesn't start with an 'S'."

"Yeah, but mine does, and you're mine."

Feel free to take it as far as you like 😏

A/N: ehehe yes ofc, i love thissss, but also a lil funny bc my name DOES start with an S :P so imma change the dialogue a bit. keepin dis sweet- there is a lil steamy moment for like two sentences however mostly this is fluff, hope you enjoy it, my love!

Fluff, no warnings (?), gender neutral language (im p sure, lemme know if i missed something!), 2.5k words

Spencer’s apartment is flooded with the music of joy; light jazz pours from an old style radio in the living room, your shared laughter tumbles into the rest of the place from the small kitchen, the sound of knives and forks scraping decorated ceramic plates signals the end of a well-enjoyed meal.

It was date-night for the two of you, a rare occurrence as of late due to Spencer’s teaching commitment. Initially, you were excited, thinking you would be getting more of him to yourself. You kept that thought to yourself, though, seeing how upset he initially was at not being able to help his team in the way he wanted to. That exhilaration was shut down particularly quickly as Spencer had begun bringing his work home with him. When he was working only as a profiler, sure he’d be away from you most of the time, but when he came home he’d spend all of his time present and in the moment. Now, at times, having him home almost felt worse than when he’d be away.

In the moment, however, everything was perfect. This is how you wished every night could be. The two of you bumping shoulders as you both prepare dinner; glasses of wine clinking with a cheers; old love songs serenading your flushed ears as Spencer pulls you into his arms to delicately waltz around the kitchen; his balmy eyes peering down into yours, speaking words of love and comfort. This serene feeling of domesticity was addicting. Life had been a whirlwind the past year, with it only being about six months since Spencer came home from prison. Things were jarringly different at first, both of your lives changing the way being wrongfully imprisoned changed Spencer, but you didn’t care. You could fight every battle life threw your way as long as your beautiful boy was by your side. Some days were more difficult than others, when Spencer would be reminded of the atrocities he witnessed in jail or what he had to do to survive. He’d isolate himself, snap at you, or push you away; but this evening was a good night- it almost felt like you had your old lover back.

“Dinner was delicious, angel.” Spencer beamed at you from the other side of his compact dining table, using his cloth napkin to wipe at the corners of his lips. 

“Well,” you chuckled, pushing out of your seat to collect both of your plates, “you helped me, that’s probably why.” 

Spencer quickly followed your movements, whisking the dishes out of your hands with a sweet kiss pressed to your cheek before taking them to the sink. “It was all you, beautiful.” he had whispered against your skin while leaving your side. 

You silently shook your head, picking up your wine and water glasses to be washed. “Should I dry?” you questioned as he turned on the faucet, pulling a tea towel from the cabinet below you. 

Spencer shook his head, “It’s okay, they can air dry.” he spoke with a little shrug.

“Okay!” you responded bright-eyed, throwing the towel down onto the counter next to you, a bit too excited at the prospect of not doing anything. Your reaction peeled an infectious laugh from Spencer's beautifully cerise lips, his nose scrunching involuntarily. You could stand there and just watch him exist for the rest of eternity. 

And you did just that for a minute, took in the sight of him humming along to the jazz standard wafting in from the other room, engrossed in scrubbing the food stuck to the pans you cooked in. His jawline and upper-lip were shadowed in scruff, trailing down the sides of his Adam’s apple. His hair was long now, wavy and pushed back from his face, exposing his strong forehead and giving you unrestricted access to gaze into his gentle cinnamon eyes. The years passing changed his appearance in so many ways, and you loved every bit of it. Your eyes trailed down to graze over the top of his chest, exposed by the first few buttons of his deep cerulean shirt undone; they moved over the slopes of his broad shoulders, and down to his arms working steadfast to clean up the remnants of your meal. It didn’t escape Spencer how you were drinking him in without a care in the world, paying no mind to his elbow occasionally bumping into your torso.

“You having fun there?” he teased with a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth, eyes never leaving the task at hand. His words spurred you forward. 

You simply hummed in response as you moved to stand behind him, your front pressing firmly into his back. Spencer’s eyebrow arched questioningly, but he kept his mouth shut, simply letting you do as you pleased. Your head peeked over one side of his arm, hands sliding down until they reached the cuff of his sleeve. Deftly, you began folding them up, “Just helpin you,” you mumbled as a throwaway explanation, moving to his other side to do the same. Fingernails scratched at his newly exposed forearms, your muffled giggle turning Spencer’s smirk into a wide grin. “Done!” you announced, wrapping your arms around his abdomen before nuzzling your face into his broad back. Over the barrier of fabric, the running water, and the sound of his scrubbing Spencer barely heard you ask, “Didn’t I help so much?”

His chuckle sent vibrations into your cheek, “Yes, honey, you were a big help. Thank you.” Content, you pushed your face further into his shirt. 

The two of you stood like that for a few more minutes, Spencer trying his best not to move too much in order to keep you comfortable. You haven’t back-hugged him like this since before he was framed, and he didn’t realize how much he missed it until this moment. He washed the dishes a bit slower than normal, reveling in the heart-warming scene. Soon, however, he was done. 

As soon as he turned off the water, you were off him, moving to pick up the once-forgotten tea towel and face him, leaning against the edge of the sink. “Thank you for your service, soldier.” you unseriously saluted before taking each of his dripping hands in his and patting them dry. 

A titter broke through his smile as Spencer reverently gazed down at you, the way your eyes twinkled under the soft-yellow lights of his old kitchen, your beautiful hands turning his own over to attack any remaining droplets of water, your eyebrows twitching reflexively here and there in focus. The first time he laid eyes on you all those years ago he was shot in the heart by Cupid’s arrow, and it has stayed there, firm in place, ever since. 

As soon as you were done, Spencer softly cupped your face in his palms, your fingers wrapping around his wrists as he tilted your head up to look at him. He leaned down, pushing a passionate, yet gentle kiss onto your mouth. Before you could deepen it, he pulled away just enough to mumble, “I have something for you.”

Your eyebrows shot up in surprise, and you looked up at him in confusion as he pressed one more peck to your lips before moving into the other room, your hands chasing after him. Once his words processed in your brain you perked up, excitedly following behind him.

“You got me a gift?” You question, reaching where Spencer stood at the side table by the front door, right in front of the intricate, gold trimmed mirror you hung up just last week. Your eyebrows furrowed as you watched Spencer pick up the weekly newspaper, “Uh, you got me the…local paper?”

With a roll of his eyes, Spencer wordlessly pulled you to him by the waist, mimicking your earlier actions by pressing his front into your back. You stumbled a bit, catching yourself by grabbing onto the forearm wrapped around your torso, holding you up, Spencer’s fingers digging into your waist. You peer at him curiously through the mirror before he whispers in your ear. 

“Look,” he motions down with his chin, and you do as you’re told. Spencer moves the haphazardly folded newspaper to the side, revealing a glimmering deep emerald velvet box. From the size of it, you could tell it was some jewelry other than a ring. You gasped in shock, not even having seen its contents. “Spencer…” your voice was meek and unbelieving. 

He watched you through the mirror, his cheek pressed against your temple as he opened the box before you. Your alluring eyes widened to their limits, hands flying up to cover your mouth. Your gaze whizzed to meet your lover in the reflection, “You got me a necklace??” your words dripped with incredulity. Spencer had gifted you generously in the past- rare books, handmade accessories, clothing you had your eye on, tickets to see your favorite artists live- but never before had he bought you jewelry. You never minded, content with wanting the first piece he gives you to be an engagement ring. That being said, this surprise moved you immensely. You took in the gorgeous necklace shining proudly up at you. A dainty chain in the metal you wore the most, in the middle sat a heart-shaped locket, no bigger than the tip of your pinky-finger. Before you could speak again, Spencer shifted to open the locket for you, revealing two pictures. One was older, taken at JJ’s wedding; Penelope had been going around taking photos of everyone and as soon as she neared the two of you, Spencer scooped you up into his arms as if you were the bride. The moment frozen in time showed you in the midst of a bellowing laugh, clutching to Spencer’s shoulders in shock, with your boyfriend looking upon you as if you were an angel incarnate, an equally wide smile plastered across his face. The second photo was more recent; you had invited the whole team out to a picnic brunch shortly after Spencer was released and this time Emily was the one taking candid photos. The two of you were cozying up at the edge of the yellow gingham blanket, Spencer's arms wrapped tightly around your figure rested between his legs. In the photo, his hand was cupping your jaw, tilting your face up to bring your lips close to his, the snapshot proudly showcasing his grinning mouth just centimeters from your own with the sunlight stretching out in the background. 

“Oh, Spencer,” you were at a loss of words, your fingers hesitantly tracing the silhouette of the pendant, “It’s so beautiful, my favorite pictures…” you murmured. 

Spencer hummed and nodded in response, setting the box down to take the necklace out of its confines. He straightened behind you, stretching the necklace out in front of your face, “Let me put it on you, baby.” he whispered, mouth barely moving. 

You happily obliged as he brought the chain closer to your neck, moving your hair to one side to better allow him to clasp it behind you. Spencer watched you the whole time through the mirror while your eyes were fixated on the necklace. The cold metal of the locket hitting your warm skin caused a minuscule gasp to part your plump lips, but Spencer noticed it all. The way your chest rose and fell faster, chasing after your quickened heart; the way you drew your bottom lip in between your teeth; your uncertain hands grasping at his trouser legs behind you. Once the chain was secured, the locket resting perfectly in the dip of your collar bones, Spencer placed soft, warm kisses to the exposed skin of your shoulders and neck, holding eye contact with you with each; even as he moved your hair to dutifully pepper the other side. You sighed as his arms returned to engulf your waist, tighter than before, your hands moved to rest on top of his. He noticed your eyelids flutter close just for a moment, taking him in, before they opened again and your gaze shifted back down to the reflection of the necklace. Your eyes glinted with uncertainty upon noticing the engraving on the locket you hadn’t fully processed earlier. 

“‘S’...” you spoke, reading the letter dangling from your neck. You kept your inflection steady, trying to make it seem like you knew exactly what it stood for, but Spencer knew you better than that. Before you could make any assumptions, he spoke up.

“For ‘Spencer’.” he stated matter-of-factly, his face moving up from your shoulder to rest against your temple again. 

You smiled at him, more confused than before, “But aren’t you supposed to put my initials on it. You know, cuz it’s my necklace?”

“No,” he murmured sternly against your hair. Spencer’s left hand slipped down to grab onto your right hip, his right hand traveling up your sternum to thumb over the locket before splaying out to rest just below your throat, the heart pendant resting on the back of his hand.

Another, louder gasp sucked through your lips as Spencer tugged you closer to him, your back arched a bit as it stretched, bum pushing into his groin. 

“I put my initial,” he started again, heading dipping down to mouth against the shell of your ear, his eyes looking at you in the mirror through his cocoa lashes had you biting your lip, “Because you’re mine. And now everyone will know it.”

Suddenly, you whipped around in Spencer’s arms, throwing your own over and around his neck, hugging his body close to yours. He stumbled back a bit in shock, grabbing onto your lower back to steady himself before a laugh shook through his shoulders. 

“Thank you, thank you, thank you!” you enthusiastically repeated, pressing kisses along his stubbled jawline with every word. “I love it so much, Spencer.” you pulled back all the way to stare up at him, gaze filled with genuinity. One of your hands remained on the back of his neck, the other coming down to fiddle with the locket, “This is the best gift I’ve ever gotten.” 

His previously mischievous demeanor melted off his back as Spencer drank in how you dripped sweetness. “I’m so happy to hear you say that, honey.” His hands rubbed up and down your back. “I know things have been…complicated lately. I’ve been distant and cold, which I want to apologize for, but you’ve been beside me through it all. You’re my rock, and I just wanted to show you a bit of my gratitude.” 

You shook your head as you pushed up onto your tippy-toes to kiss him again, the hand on your locket moving to lightly scratch at the side of his neck.

“I’m all yours,” you muttered against his lips, tilting your head to the other side to slot yours upon them again. You pulled away after a couple seconds, “You don’t have to thank me, my love. I know you would do the same for me.” You pressed a few more kisses to Spencer’s supple lips before pulling back again, causing him to huff. “Are you mine?” you whisper.

Innocent doe-eyes coupled with a small pout had a quiet groan dragging from Spencer’s throat. He brought a hand up to trace your bottom lip with his thumb before tangling his fingers in your hair, 

“I’m yours, baby.” he nodded. “Only yours.” With that, he pulled you back in for a sensual kiss.

A/N: omg sorry if this sucks im so sleepy right nowwwww it took so long to write this for some reason i cant process words properly but i wanted to finish this! i loved writing this piece, and i hope y'all like reading it. ANON! how'd i do?

[iwishthebestforyou]

OUT OF TOUCH — 🥀

fic inspired by the song out of touch

content: angst, knew they had didn't have enough time so didn't confess x thought they had enough time so didn't confess,

scara x reader

maybe ooc

cw: Death, loss

chrysanthemum 💐

—

Entering the hospital room of his childhood bestfriend, the room smelled faintly like antiseptic, it wasn't the empty room or the odd decorations on the wall that got his attention first— no. It was the flowers that were in full bloom sitting on the windowsill, soft petals bathing in the sun that almost seemed too bright.

It was so like you to carry flowers around. For some odd reason, you have a very big interest into flowers, flower language- everything of that sort, carried them in notebooks, bags, in your hands, everything flower related was always nearby, he always found it odd and never really asked other than some teasing comments, but now, at this situation he wished he did.

The memories that always seemed so little value suddenly seemed to be worth alot, the times where'd you would tell him about flower language, bringing him bouquets- even pressured him to take care of his own flower that only bloomed since you were always reminding him to take care of it

Scara stood in the doorway, just staring into the room, his fists clenched by his side's, eyes focused on the patient who was just resting there, you've gotten smaller, paler and those bright eyes were closed. The white around him was starting to irritate him, white walls, white everything. White always suited you, just not in this setting.

It wasn't supposed to be this bad. He knew that illness of yours has been there since the start but- you've always lived with it, you've always brushed it off, so why now? Why now are you failing against it? You've always been so strong.

He swallowed hard as he let out a breath he didn't even know he was holding in, speaking the first few words even after standing there for what felt like an eternity. " ...I'm here. " His voice cracked saying it, there wasn't any mockery, sarcasm or anything laced in his words like it usually would have.

Your eyes opened almost immediately hearing his voice, their lips curving into a faint smile, a happy but a tired smile. " Your.. your here. " They whispered, voice filled with something he couldn't decipher.

Scaramouches gaze flickered back to the flowers on the windowsill, still blooming despite the situation. You must be magical, since how are those flowers still alive? The rest of the hospitals flowers have either died or been replaced by plastic. Yours is the only one alive. He forced a nod and stepped inside " Yeah.. " he murmured, his throat starting to feel clogged. " I came, y/n.. "

Scaramouche sat down on the chair beside the bed, his hands trembling as he continued looking at the flowers, they were vibrant, so full of life just bathing in the sunlight. It felt cruel. Like those flowers were mocking him, mocking you. You were once as bright as those flowers too, always shining and full of life, but now your barely even holding onto that life. he looks at your weaker form and his heart clenches, the contrast was too much for him to bare.

" ...You didn't have to.. don't you have practice today? For that concert. " You whispered, voice soft and strained. Despite your condition, your voice was still filled with that familiar warmth. "And I know how much you hate hospitals."

He gave a bitter laugh, though it just came out like a broken exhale " Yeah? Well, you didn't really give me any other choice. " He replied, trying to sound lighthearted or atleast bring back that usual sarcasm in his voice. But his voice crack at the end betrayed him.

You chuckled softly, the chuckle quickly turning into a cough. Both sound and sight made him flinch, but you still smiled at him, smiled at him despite of how much pain you were in, trying to reassure him it was okay, you were fine. But that smile only worsened his anxieties. You weren't okay, they both knew that.

You were the only one who looked at him without any anger, someone who looked at his heart and not just his mean, hardened exterior. He never got to say it, but you mattered alot to him. Maybe even the only person that was close to him.

Growing up, there wasn't much he could claim as his, not his family, not the sense of belonging, not friendships. Everything was fleeting— be there for a second and leave, that was everything and everyone around him. But you? Your friendship? Was the only thing he could call his own, the one thing he had for himself

And now that too, something he thought would last an eternity was slipping away, just like everything around him always did. He never really was lucky huh?

" But to be honest, I'm glad you came .. I was waiting for you, you know? " You said softly, gaze at the ceilng " I thought you wouldn't, but I understand. You hate goodbyes. "

His chest tightened, guilt clawing at him but also a surge of anger " Don't say that. " He muttered, cutting her off before she could continue. " This isn't goodbye. "

You gave a him a look, a look that broke him more then he already was, a look of bittersweet acceptance and it made this stomach churn. " Scara.. " you said, voice barely above a whisper " You know it is. We both know. "

His chest tightened even more and he felt like he was losing his a ability to properly breathe, hands clenched tightly digging into his palms as he struggled to keep himself to calm. " Stop it. " He said harshly, his voice trembling. " You don't get to decide that, your going to beat that fucking illness,  you always have. "

You didn't reply immediately, your gaze softening even more as you looked at him again. " The flowers are blooming. " you said, catching him off guard.

He blinked, confused by the sudden change in topic. " What? "

" You know, the chrysanthemum.. " you continued, eyes turning to the flowers that sat so prettily on your windowsill. " They mean goodbye in flower language. "

His breath hitched and for a moment, he couldn't speak. The weight of your words suffocating him, the hopeless tone in your voice.

" They're beautiful, aren't they? " You whispered " I always wanted to leave something beautiful behind, even if they're just flowers. "

" Stop, " he said again, voice cracking " Just shut up.. stop talking like that.. stop talking like your leaving. Your going to stay, then- then we're going to go back to how things were. I'll even let you make fun of me, okay? "

You laughed sweetly, the sound bittersweet. " It's okay scara, really, I've made my peace. "

But he hasnt. And he wasn't really to let go, not yet. Not ever.

" Don't say that.. " he didn't even realise the years that started to form. He didn't cry. But, how could he not at the situation? His voice breaking with every word. " Don't.. Please don't say that. "

You reached out weakly, your hand brushing against his. Your touch was so gentle, so light. It shattered something inside him. He'd rather how you were before, hitting him and throwing things at him then whatever this is. " It's okay. " You murmured you words barely audible with the soft hum of the machines surrounding you. " I'm getting tired.. I hope you don't mind if I go to sleep. "

He nods and you smile, your eyes closed, breathing steady but faint. He sat frozen, eyes locked onto your peaceful face.

He didn't move. He didn't speak. The silence in the room grew heavier, pressing down on him like a heavy weight.

A trembling breath escaped his lips and he lowered his head, starting to breath heavily as his vision blurred, he couldn't properly breath anymore, hands covering his face, shoulders starting to shake and silent tears streamed down his cheeks, quiet sobs as tears soaked his hands. He didn't make a sound, didn't dare disturb that peace of yours.

It was the first time in years he left himself cry, and it hurt more than he thought it would. It felt so unfair. Everything felt so unfair, he only had this one thing and even that's been being taken away.

The blooming flowers on the windowsill blurred through his tears, their vibrant colours with your pale face gave a cruel reminder to him of what he was going to lose.

For now, you were still here. Still breathing but he couldn't stop the overwhelming dread gnawing at him, knowing this peace won't last forever.

So he let himself break as you slept, completely unaware that the stoic, rude and usually sarcastic bestfriend of yours was breaking right beside you.

A few days pass by, and tonight felt oddly colder. Harsher and even more darker, a few people inside the room silently sobbing as the day finally came, the day he dreaded so much. Scaramouche remained seated beside you, his gaze fixed on you, as if silently begging for you to just magically get up and laugh at him, to tease him for being so emotional. But your breathing was growing fainter by the second.

He didn't dare move, he couldn't even think properly.

" Scara..? " Your voice, softer than before, weaker than ever and more fragile.

He leaned closer, his chest tightening " I'm here.. " he whispered, his voice hoarse

Your eyes fluttered open briefly, the corners of your lips curving into a soft faint smile. " Are the flowers still blooming? "

His breath hitched. Of course, it's about the flowers again. His chest ached at that question and he nodded, his eyes betraying the composure he was trying to hold. " They're alive, blooming like how you wanted it to. "

You exhaled a shaky breath, smiling at that. Seeming to finally fully come into terms on whats gonna happen. " That's good, i'm glad.. "

Scaramouche clenched his fists, nails digging into his palms as he forced himself to atleast stay strong for you. Atleast not let you pass seeing a frown on his face.

The heart rate monitor was beeping slower and slower, the nurses put their head down.

Please. Please. Don't take them away. He dosent believe in miracles, but please- if that's what it takes to bring you back to your old self then please.

Please don't do this to him. Please.

He was spiralling, tears starting to form as you broke the silence with a whisper, so faintly that it was barely audible.

" Take.. take care of the flowers. I'll see you.. someday "

Beep.

Beep.

Nothing.

Your eyes were shut, and this time they didn't open at the sound of people talking or his voice. They just stayed shut, the sound of the monitor flat lining pierced through the air as choked sobs from friends and family came from behind him, his own tears and sobs filling his senses, nurses and doctors looking down.

" No, " he whispered, his voice breaking and his heart torn into pieces, there was so much he had to say, there was so much time he thought they had- so he didnt say anything, he didn't wanna believe that the time was slipping from his fingers.

He reached for your hand, gripping it slightly but it didn't have that warmth anymore, it was cold. Too cold. His body trembled as the realisation hit him like a tidal wave. You were gone.

More nurses entered the room, voices quiet and respectful, muttering apologies and condolences, but he barely registered their presence, feeling numb and his eyes focused on you.

Cruel.

Your too cruel.

A few weeks later, he was helping your family take your belongings from the hospital room. It was too cold, emptier. He stood by the windowsill, just looking around on the tiny pieces of you that you left behind.

His eyes took notice of the chrysanthemum, his fingers brushing against them, the flowers you cared so dearly for, the flowers that were wilted, petals lifeless.

A bitter laugh escaped his lips, the sound harsh and hollow. " The flowers.. they're wilted. " He muttered, his voice breaking. He broke the promise you left him with, but then again, he was never good at the keeping promises thing.

His chest ached as he picked up the pot, looking at it, holding it so fragile like it was an extension of you. He couldn't cry, no, you wouldn't want him to cry. But his vision blurred and the tears started rolling down anyway.

You were gone, and yet, despite it all he could feel you, your smell, your interests still scattered all over the room. The memories that clung to every corner in his mind, he still had so much to tell you, still so much to do, still so much to talk about, so much things he couldn't say.

He set the pot down carefully, brushing a hand on the dead petals " You said youd leave something beautiful behind, " he whispered. " But what am I supposed to do now when your not here to remind me to take care of it? "

The words echoed in the empty room, the weight of your absence pressing down on him.

And for the first time in his life, scaramouche wish he believed in miracles. Because if he did, maybe he could've atleast had that hope that he'd maybe see you again, even if you were just a flower.

But alas, just like that flower has wilted, you did too. But maybe that beauty you wanted to leave behind wasn't the flower, but the memory of you.

I'm sorry if it's just yap, I was just bored and spilled my feelings in hehe it feels a bit self indulgent

[spanktony]

prologue. | WHERE DO YOU SLEEP? — YU JIMIN.

𝘀𝗵𝗼𝗿𝘁𝗲𝗻𝗲𝗱 𝘀𝘆𝗻𝗼𝗽𝘀𝗶𝘀 — y/n, a rising music producer, has built her dream career while keeping her personal life under wraps. karina, aespa’s leader, is preparing for a huge comeback with a mini album produced and written by the one and only y/n.

karina knows this is the opportunity of a lifetime, and she has to nail it. the only problem is, she may be a bit distracted by her producer.

something about their connection feels different—like maybe it's worth the risk of prying eyes. but how much will they give up to chase after what they want?

𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀 — none.

𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗱𝘀 — 1.3k

𝗮𝘂𝘁𝗵𝗼𝗿𝘀 𝗻𝗼𝘁𝗲— dude, i've been writing this series like crazy to the point im almost finished. and i HATE the first 3-4 chapters because they're kinda boring bruh. but happy new years guys! enjoy!

taglist — open!

series masterlist. main masterlist. next.

the first few months back in seoul were nice.

actually, more than nice, it was everything you hoped for after being on the road bouncing from city to city.

you had just gotten off a mini u.s. tour, with a big emphasis on mini because it was only around seven cities in total. but even that small stretch was a whirlwind of airport terminals, crowded venues, and late nights in hotel rooms that all started to blend together.

you had missed seoul, specifically your grandmother's house, because that is where most of your childhood memories took place.

born in new york, you were adopted by two of the kindest people you'd ever known. your parents met in the city, fell in love, and decided to start a family through adoption. your mom, who was korean, made sure you spent every summer in seoul with your grandma so you could stay connected to your roots—learning the language and culture firsthand.

it was her way of preserving what mattered, and you were grateful for it. those summers with your grandma was something you'd cling onto till eternity.

your parents did an amazing job of raising you—big props to them.

now, at 22, you were five years into your career in music. producer, singer-songwriter, performer—if it involved music, you were all in.

things had moved fast: two grammys out of the four nominations, three spotify 1 billion streams plaques that all hung proudly in your studio, and countless music festivals under your belt. you had done everything, from coachella to lollapalooza to bonnaroo and a slew of others.

though you were proud of all you'd achieved, the constant performing was beginning to take its toll. you needed a break from the spotlight, from the endless cycle of promotions and tours. you loved the hell out of your fans, but man you were tired.

so, when you told your management you wanted to step back from performing and focus on writing and producing, they were hesitant. they had their plans for you, but they knew better than to argue when you were so adamant. they respected your decision, and now here you were, doing exactly what you wanted. helping others create music, being behind the scenes rather than on stage, where you could breathe easier.

after months of your team sending your demos out to various artists, you finally got a callback from smtown. saying you were nervous was an understatement. the nerves had settled in your chest and stayed there, a heavy weight that didn't want to go away.

you had written this demo with a friend a few months ago, and it was one of your favorites. it was a little different from the usual songs you produced, and it was a risk. but when the call came, your team couldn't have been more supportive. you were excited but terrified at the same time.

that brings you to today, a month later, sitting in the lobby of the smtown building.

your legs bounced uncontrollably as you stared at the clock on the wall, counting down the minutes until the meeting started. you were early—not too early—but the wait was killing you. the lobby was quiet, which was unusual since the building was constantly buzzing with artists coming and going. the company was big on privacy, though. they always tried to make sure no one was photographed, and you respected them for it.

your manager sat beside you, cool as always, one hand scrolling through his phone while the other rested casually on his knee. you had known him since you were 19, fresh to the music scene and pretty much a mess. he was assigned to keep your career on track, and while he took his job seriously, he didn’t have the whole uptight vibe that most other people in the industry did. he was cool, collected, and a little sassy, which you appreciated more than you'd like to admit.

"seriously, can you stop moving so much?" he said, not even looking up from his phone. "you're making me dizzy just watching you."

"i'm just... excited," you mumbled, forcing yourself to sit still. "i can't help it."

he rolled his eyes dramatically and shook his head. "excited? you look like you're about to pass out. you do know that they already liked your song, right? they called us in."

"yeah, i know," you replied, trying to shake the jitters. "but, you know... they could change their minds. or something."

"or something," he mimicked. a glare shot his way, one that he didn't seem to mind at all. he was used to your glares. he had dealt with them for the last three years, after all. "please. just relax, okay? i'm sure it'll go well."

you nodded, taking a deep breath.

glancing down at your phone to see your mom's text, smiling to yourself. she always knows how to make you feel at home, even from halfway across the world.

mom ❤️: tell your dad that he's too old for tiktok. he keeps trying to dance.

you snicker. a response from your father quickly comes, adding another grey bubble to your screen from your family's group chat.

dad 💙: tell your mom to mind her own business and to get off my phone!

you slip your phone back into your pocket as your manager taps your shoulder, his hand lingering on your shoulder before he gestures for you to follow him.

you rise from the seat, following behind him as another figure begins leading him. lots of leading. so many twists and turns. and then an elevator, which the three of you step into, where you immediately blow a quick raspberry, the sound loud and a little childish. the corners of your mouth twitch as you try to stifle a laugh.

you glance up at your manager, who doesn't seem to mind the odd noise at all—he's used to you and your little ways. when you look at the other man, he looks surprised but intrigued. you think he's trying not to laugh as well.

stepping off the elevator and rounding a corner of the building, you pull the brim of your hat down a bit more with your right hand, hoping to cover a little more of your face. it's a nervous habit that's stuck with you since the beginning of your career.

your manager, walking just ahead, casts a quick glance back at you. his expression is neutral, but there's a certain glint in his eyes that tells you he's as excited as you are, if not more. the other man—a member of the smtown staff, you assume—keeps pace, a very fast pace, as he's much taller than either of you.

curse tall people and their long legs.

the three of you finally stop outside a room marked 115.

your manager turns to look at you, a smile on his face.

"this is it," he says. "are you ready?"

silence.

karina's eyes are unfocused, staring after your footsteps that are moving further and further away. it's an early morning, and the group has been called into the company's building for an important meeting revolving around their upcoming comeback. it had been a long couple of months since their last project, and everyone was eager to dive into new material.

the sound of her manager's voice, calling her name, pulls her out of her reverie.

"karina?"

she blinks, her gaze snapping back toward the voice that is holding the boardrooms' main door open, awaiting her entrance. karina blinks a few more times, her eyes refocusing as she shakes off the lingering thoughts of the stranger she had just seen.

she's usually good at recognizing people in this building, but she doesn't know who the person is. the black new york yankees hat was pulled so low over their face that she couldn't make out any features.

"karina," her manager calls again, a little louder.

"yes, sorry, i'm coming."

she steps into the boardroom, a small room with a long, sleek table and a whiteboard at the front of the room. several of her fellow members are already seated at the table, along with their managers and a couple of other staff members.

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