#it’s such a haunting song and so gentle like a lullaby

[pansy-out-of-the-wardrobe]

euthanasia using euphemisms for “death” for most of the song really fucking gets to me (especially when compared to memento mori that directly names and laughs at death)

[raekensluver]

melodies of love

description: you and your childhood best friend theodore nott have been through thick and thin together, so when he tells you he's leaving, paired with a confession, it changes everything.

pairing: childhood bsf!theodore nott x fem!reader

contains: mentions of parental death, latent fathers, late-night love confessions, theo plays piano!!!!!, musician!theo, modern au!

song rec: symphony by clean bandit ft. zara larsson- “life was stringing me along, then you came and you cut me loose."

w.c: 2.0k

an: i have been waiting so longgggg to use the middle photo of lorenzo.

the room was quiet, the only sound being the occasional rustle of the curtains dancing with the night breeze. the bed beneath you was warm and comforting, the familiar creaks of the old wooden frame a gentle lullaby. you laid there sideways, your legs hanging off the edge, the mattress slightly indented from your weight. the soft glow of the bedside lamp painted the walls with a golden hue, casting a serene scene of shadows and light.

you felt the anticipation build in your chest, your heart beating slightly faster as you thought about the stories theo might share tonight. the late night talks had been your ritual since you both discovered that insomnia was a shared burden. you'd lay in the darkness, whispering your secrets and fears into the night, knowing that the other was always there to listen.

the bond between you and theo was forged in the fires of shared pain. both of you had fathers who were more like shadows than guardians - present but never really there. the cold shoulder from your father had been a harsh reality you learned to navigate early on, while theo had to deal with the tyranny of his own. it was your mothers' gentle spirits that had truly bound you together. lost too soon to the merciless grip of illness and a tragic accident, their memories remained a beacon of warmth in the cold, unforgiving world of your fathers.

you remembered the particularly bad nights, the ones where the darkness outside was only a reflection of the turmoil within. when the house was too quiet, and the sadness was too heavy to bear alone, you would sneak out of your room, tiptoe down the stairs, and out the back door. the cool grass beneath your bare feet was a comforting reminder of the outside world that waited for you beyond the walls of your father's frigid domain. the night air was a balm, carrying the scent of the blooming lilac bushes that lined the fence separating your yards.

you would slip into theo's house, the soft tinkle of the piano in the parlor guiding you like a lighthouse beam through the stillness. his mother had been a pianist before her illness took her, and the piano remained, a silent sentinel of happier days. theo had taught himself to play, and his music was the voice that soothed your soul. the melodies he conjured in those small hours were bittersweet, a testament to the love and loss that haunted your shared past.

his room was always the same, a sanctuary filled with books and knickknacks that reflected his boundless curiosity. the walls were plastered with posters of faraway places and people, a silent declaration of his desire to escape the confines of your small town. the bed was unmade, the bedspread a tapestry of wrinkles from his restlessness, but there was always a spot next to him where you felt safe. you'd slide under the covers, the warmth of his body a stark contrast to the chill that had followed you from your own room.

his eyes would light up when he saw you, a smile playing on his lips as he whispered a quiet "hey." theo had the kind of smile that could melt the iciest of hearts, a trait you envied and adored. you would share your day's troubles with him, the mundane and the profound, and he would listen with a rapt attention that no one else ever seemed to have. his eyes never left yours, as if by looking away he might miss something important, something only you could tell him.

his voice was low and soothing, a balm to your soul on those dark nights. you felt as if you could tell him anything, and he would understand. the way his fingers danced over the piano keys, the gentle strokes and crescendos, mirrored the tumultuous symphony of emotions that played within you. as you talked, he would often reach out, his hand finding yours in the darkness, giving it a squeeze that spoke of his silent support.

this night was no different, except for the anticipation that filled the air. the whispers of a secret untold. you had felt it brewing for days, a heaviness in theo's eyes, a sadness that even his smile couldn't quite hide. you waited, listening to the soft rhythm of his breathing, for the moment when he would finally confide in you.

you blinked your eyes open, and there he was, leaning over you, his elbows resting on the mattress. the smile on his face was a gentle curve, the corners of his eyes crinkling with affection. the lamp's glow painted him in a warm light, making his dark hair seem almost golden. his eyes searched yours, looking for the understanding he so desperately needed.

"i've got something to tell you," he began, his voice low and hesitant. "it's big, and i'm not sure how you're going to take it."

you sat up, scooting towards the headboard, pulling your legs up to your chest. the anticipation grew like a storm cloud in your chest, thick and heavy. "okay," you murmured, bracing yourself for whatever was about to come.

theo took a deep breath, his eyes never leaving yours. "i'm leaving," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. the words hung in the air, thick and palpable. your heart skipped a beat, the blood rushing to your ears, drowning out the world outside of your little bubble.

you felt the mattress dip as he sat down beside you, his body warm and solid. "what do you mean?" you asked, your voice trembling. his hand found yours again, giving it a reassuring squeeze.

"i've got a scholarship to a school in the city," he explained, his voice gaining strength. "for music. it's a full ride, and it's a chance to get out of here, to make something of myself."

the words hit you like a wave, crashing over the sandcastle of your quiet life. theo, leaving? It was unthinkable. your eyes searched his, looking for a hint of a joke, a twitch of his lip that would give away the punchline. but all you saw was sincerity, and a hint of fear.

"theo, that's… that's amazing," you managed to choke out, trying to keep your voice steady. Inside, you were a whirlwind of emotions - joy for his opportunity, sadness for your impending loss, fear of the unknown. "when did you find out?"

he sighed, leaning back against the pillows. "a few days ago. i've been trying to figure out how to tell you." his eyes searched yours, looking for the acceptance he so desperately needed. "i leave next week."

the news was a punch to the gut, leaving you breathless. your mind raced with questions and objections, but all that came out was a soft "next week?" the urgency of the situation was stark, the reality of his departure so close you could almost taste it.

his grip on your hand tightened. "i know it's a lot to ask, but… i want you to come with me." he said, his voice filled with hope and desperation. "i can't do this without you. you're the only one who really gets me."

you felt your world tilt on its axis, the gravity of his words pulling at you. the idea of leaving your home, your father, your life behind was both terrifying and exhilarating. the thought of starting anew, of escaping the shadows of your past, was something you had never dared to dream.

you took a deep breath, trying to organize the chaotic symphony playing in your head. "theo," you began, your voice shaky, "i can't just leave. my dad…"

his expression fell, the hope in his eyes dimming. "i know," he said, his voice soft. "but you can't stay here forever. you're just as trapped as i am."

you felt the weight of his words, the truth of them pressing down on your shoulders. you knew he was right, but the thought of leaving was too much to bear. "i… i don't know if i can do that, theo," you whispered, the lump in your throat growing.

his eyes searched yours, desperation flickering in their depths. "please," he said, his voice cracking. "i don't want to leave you. i need you there with me."

you felt your chest tighten at the raw vulnerability in his voice, a feeling you hadn't heard from him in years. theo was the strong one, the one who held you together when your world fell apart. but now, he was asking for your help, for your company. it was a revelation that shook you to your core.

his hand was still in yours, his thumb tracing patterns on the back of your hand. the warmth of his touch was grounding, a reminder that you weren't alone in this tumultuous sea of emotions. "theo," you whispered, "i don't know if i can."

his eyes searched yours, desperation etched into every line of his face. "please," he begged, the word coming out as a hoarse whisper. "i need you there." the raw emotion in his voice made your heart ache.

you swallowed hard, trying to find the right words. "theo," you began, your voice trembling, "i…"

but before you could finish, he leaned in and kissed you. it was soft and gentle, the kind of kiss that held a thousand unspoken words. it was a kiss that spoke of a love that had grown over the years, a bond stronger than friendship, a connection that had always been there but had remained unacknowledged.

you pulled back, your eyes wide with shock. "theo," you whispered, your hand still trembling in his.

his face was inches from yours, his eyes searching yours for a reaction. "i know it's a lot," he said, his voice soft, "but i had to tell you. i love you. i've loved you for so long, and i can't just leave without saying it."

you sat there, frozen, his words echoing in your mind. theo, your best friend, the one who knew you better than anyone, was confessing his love for you. the revelation was as surprising as it was overwhelming. your heart was racing, trying to keep up with the thoughts that bombarded your brain.

you looked into his eyes, searching for the truth in their depths. they were filled with a vulnerability that was as stark as it was beautiful. theo had always been the one to wear a mask, to hide his pain behind a smile. but here, in the soft light of the bedside lamp, his defenses were down, and you could see the raw, unfiltered version of the boy you had grown up with.

his confession hung in the air, as potent as the scent of the lilac bushes outside. it was a moment that seemed to stretch on forever, the silence a living, breathing entity that wrapped itself around you both. you felt your heart pound in your chest, a symphony of emotions playing out in your mind.

slowly, you reached up and touched his cheek, feeling the stubble that had formed since the last time you had seen him. your eyes searched his, looking for the certainty that you both needed. "theo," you whispered, "i love you too."

his face lit up like the first light of dawn, the sadness and fear fading away. "you do?" he asked, his voice filled with hope.

you nodded, your heart pounding. "yes, i do."

his smile grew, the warmth of it wrapping around you like a blanket. "so, you'll come with me?" he asked, hope dancing in his eyes.

you took a moment to let the reality of his confession sink in. the thought of leaving your father was daunting, but the idea of being without theo was unbearable. "yes," you said finally, "i'll come with you."

his eyes lit up, and he leaned in again, this time the kiss was filled with a mix of relief and joy. it was a kiss that spoke of a future filled with promise and hope. "i'll make it worth it," he whispered against your lips, his hand cupping your cheek. "i'll make sure you never regret this."

you felt a warmth spread through your chest, his words like a balm to your fears. "i know you will."

edited 8.20.24

[alyrasturnz]

can you write something long for matt like he had such a perfect relationship with y/n but they just fell apart but y/n still misses him

 ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ALL TOO WELL

❐ summary » despite her deepest wishes to forget, y/n found herself haunted by the vivid memories, each detail etched into her mind all too well. the echoes of past moments reverberated through her thoughts, refusing to fade and instead growing sharper with each passing day. every glance, every word, every emotion was remembered all too well, creating an inescapable tapestry of recollections that bound her to the past.

❐ pairings » bf!matt x fem!reader

❐ warnings » toxic relationship, no happy ending

❐ a/n && w/c » to commemorate 300 followers, here’s a fic inspired by the 30th track from red 🤍 • 5.70k

matt’s sunroof was retracted, inviting the wind to dance through your hair as the car glided down the open road. the song playing in the background seemed to narrate the journey, each note intertwining with the whispering breeze, creating a symphony that echoed the freedom and exhilaration of the moment. the sky above stretched endlessly, adding to the sense of boundless adventure and the promise of new horizons.

on the journey to meet matt’s parents, you found yourself traveling back with him to his hometown of boston. the anticipation of the encounter weighed heavily on your mind, and a sense of nervousness permeated every thought.

the cityscape of boston, with its historic charm and bustling energy, seemed to mirror the whirlwind of emotions you were experiencing. each mile closer brought a blend of excitement and apprehension, as you prepared to step into a new chapter of your relationship.

your smile gradually diminished, overtaken by the torrent of thoughts swirling through your mind. the lighthearted giggles that once filled the air ceased, leaving a palpable silence in their wake. matt, ever perceptive, noticed the shift in your demeanor, his concern growing as he sensed the weight of your unspoken worries.

he quickly cast a brief glance in your direction before returning his focus to the road ahead. with a tender gesture, he placed his free hand on your thigh, his fingers gently tracing soothing patterns, offering silent reassurance amidst the unfolding journey.

"you'll be fine, y/n. they will love you," matt said, his voice carrying a gentle assurance. as he spoke, his thumb traced delicate circles on your thigh, each motion a silent promise of support and comfort.

"i hope you aren’t lying to me," you chuckle nervously, your fingers absentmindedly picking at the skin around your nails. the laughter that escaped your lips was tinged with uncertainty, a fragile attempt to mask the underlying tension.

matt lifts his hand from your thigh, his gaze shifting to meet yours. with a gentle determination, he takes your hand in his, halting your anxious picking. his touch, both firm and tender, speaks volumes, offering a silent plea for calm and reassurance.

his hand falls gently onto your lap, your fingers still entwined with his. with a soothing rhythm, he rubs circles on your knuckles, each movement a silent lullaby, a tender attempt to ease the tension that lingers in the air.

the warmth of his touch seems to seep into your skin, a wordless promise of comfort and understanding. as his thumb traces those gentle patterns, it feels as though he is trying to communicate something deeper, something beyond words—a reassurance that, no matter what lies ahead, you are not alone.

"i would never lie to you, y/n," he murmurs softly, a sheepish grin playing at the corners of his lips. his voice carries a blend of sincerity and vulnerability, as if each word is carefully chosen to bridge the gap between doubt and trust. the gentle curve of his smile, though modest, holds a quiet conviction, a silent vow etched in the subtle lines of his expression.

"that's so cheesy," you say between giggles as he playfully scoffs. your laughter dances in the air, mingling with the light-hearted atmosphere. as you shift your gaze back to the road, your eyes suddenly widen in alarm. "matt! red light!" you exclaim, your voice sharp with urgency, cutting through the moment of levity like a knife.

his eyes widen, a flash of realization crossing his face as he quickly turns back to the road. with a swift, almost instinctive motion, he presses the brakes, the car jolting slightly as it comes to a sudden halt. the urgency of the moment hangs in the air, a stark contrast to the light-heartedness that preceded it.

the car comes to a halt, and an almost palpable silence fills the space, heavy with the echoes of what just transpired. for a moment, neither of you speaks, the quiet stretching out like a held breath. then, as if on cue, you both turn to look at each other, and soft laughs begin to bubble up, breaking the tension and filling the car with a shared sense of relief and amusement.

"you idiot!" you scold, a playful reprimand laced with laughter as you gently swat matt's arm. the gesture, though light-hearted, carries with it a mix of relief and affection, a testament to the bond you share.

"i can't help it! you're just so pretty," he says, his eyes glistening with a star-struck wonder. his gaze, filled with admiration, seems to capture the very essence of his emotions, making his words resonate with a heartfelt sincerity.

"you would run a rom com like the navy one day, i just know it," you say with a soft chuckle, your voice filled with a mix of amusement and certainty. matt playfully scoffs, the sound a light-hearted counterpoint to your words, adding to the tapestry of your shared moment.

»--•--«

you step out of the car, the cool air brushing against your face, as matt, with a gentle yet firm hand, holds the passenger door open for you, his eyes reflecting a quiet strength and an unspoken promise.

despite the scarf snugly wrapped around your neck and the jacket enveloping your body, the relentless cold air still managed to pierce through, its icy fingers nipping at your skin, a stark reminder of autumn’s unforgiving embrace.

"it's cold," you murmured softly, as matt, with a tender yet protective gesture, draped an arm around you, the gentle click of the passenger door closing behind him punctuating the quiet of the night.

you looked up and saw the autumn leaves cascading down, each one descending gracefully, like pieces of a grand puzzle settling into place. the vibrant hues of amber, gold, and crimson swirled in the air, creating a mesmerizing dance as they drifted towards the earth.

the gentle rustling of the leaves, accompanied by the crisp, cool breeze, whispered secrets of the changing season, enveloping you in a serene and almost magical moment.

you and matt walked towards his house, each step accompanied by the soft crunch of fallen leaves beneath your feet. as you reached the doorstep, the world seemed to hold its breath. matt's hand, steady and deliberate, rose to knock on the door, the sound resonating through the quiet evening air, a gentle yet firm announcement of your arrival.

his mother, marylou, soon opened the door, her smile radiating a warmth that seemed to chase away the evening chill. "hello dear! you must be y/n. matt has told me all about you," she exclaimed with a bubbly enthusiasm, her voice like a melody of welcome. as she pulled you into an embrace, her hug enveloped you in a cocoon of comfort and kindness, reminiscent of a hearth's glow on a cold autumn night.

"oh, did he?" you smiled, the warmth of her embrace still lingering as she released you. your gaze shifted to matt, whose cheeks flushed a delicate shade of pink. he glanced to the side, his eyes avoiding yours, a sheepish grin playing at the corners of his mouth.

"come in, the food’s gonna get cold," she said, her voice a gentle urging. she stepped aside, allowing you and matt to cross the threshold. the warmth of the house enveloped you both as you walked in, the inviting aroma of a home-cooked meal wafting through the air, promising comfort and delight.

you walked into the house, the warm air enveloping you like a familiar embrace. it felt as though the very walls whispered stories of comfort and belonging, each step drawing you deeper into the heart of what could only be described as home.

you took your coat off, carefully hanging it on the coat hanger, the fabric whispering against the wood. matt mirrored your actions, his movements deliberate and unhurried, as if this simple ritual held a deeper significance, marking the transition from the outside world into the sanctuary of the home.

you unwind your scarf, draping it over the newel post of the staircase with a fluid motion. as you ascend the stairs alongside matt, the soft fabric of the scarf gently sways, echoing the rhythm of your steps, each one resonating with the unspoken anticipation of what lies ahead.

you entered the kitchen, immediately recognizing it from the videos they’d post. the familiar layout and cozy ambiance felt like stepping into a scene that had played out countless times in your mind, each detail resonating with a sense of déj�� vu and belonging.

you and matt walked into the dining room, where the soft glow of candlelight danced upon the walls. you see jimmy, nick, and chris seated at the dining table, their faces illuminated with a warm, welcoming glow. as you take your seat and matt settles beside you, a sense of camaraderie and shared history fills the room, weaving an invisible thread that connects you all.

the entire dinner was a symphony of laughter and chatter, the sound weaving through the air like an intricate tapestry. each story and jest added a new thread, creating a rich fabric of shared joy and connection that seemed to envelop everyone in its warmth.

soon enough, everyone finished their dinner. "we can watch a movie or something," chris suggested, taking the last bite of his meal. the room fell into a comfortable silence, punctuated only by the soft clinking of cutlery and the murmur of agreement as everyone nodded, the prospect of continuing the evening's camaraderie drawing a collective sense of anticipation.

"y/n and i will follow," marylou said with a smile, her words carrying a gentle warmth. as everyone else murmured their assent, they rose from their seats and made their way to the living room, the air filled with a quiet sense of expectation and the subtle promise of shared moments yet to unfold.

"y/n, i have something i want to show you," marylou said, her eyes sparkling with a blend of excitement and secrecy. with a playful grin, she rose from her seat and glided out of the room, leaving an aura of intrigue and a palpable sense of anticipation hanging in the air.

she returned with a photo album in her hands, the edges worn with time and memories. as she placed it gently on the table, she began to flip through the pages, each turn revealing a new chapter of stories and faces.

there was a photo of matt as a little kid, his hair still a sunlit blonde, captured in the innocence of sleep in his twin-sized bed. the image seemed to whisper tales of childhood dreams and the passage of time, a tender snapshot of a simpler era.

"that's matt?" you said, your voice a blend of shock and awe. your eyes softened, taking in the scene as she chuckled, the sound carrying a warmth that bridged past and present.

"yeah, and there's a lot more where that came from," marylou replied, her fingers deftly flipping through the pages until she paused at an image of matt on his tee-ball team. the photo captured a moment of youthful exuberance, frozen in time, as the pages of the album continued to reveal the layers of his early adventures.

"he did tee-ball?" you giggled in disbelief, the sound tinged with surprise. matt had never mentioned his days on the tee-ball field, and the revelation painted a new layer to the portrait you had of him.

"yeah. for a few months before switching to hockey," marylou said, her voice tinged with a wistful reminiscence. the album's pages seemed to murmur tales of fleeting seasons, each sport a chapter in the evolving story of matt's youth.

matt walked into the room. "what's taking you two so long?" he asked, his curiosity piqued. he approached with an easy stride, standing beside you and placing a hand gently on your back. as he leaned in to scrutinize the photos, his face flushed a deep crimson, a silent testament to the memories laid bare before him.

"mom!" he exclaimed, grinning sheepishly, his cheeks turning a vivid shade of red. the word carried a blend of affection and mild embarrassment, painting a picture of a moment both tender and humorous.

"matt managed to whack the tee so hard that it flew off and struck the coach squarely in the shin," marylou recounted with a grin. "the coach hopped around in pain, eliciting laughter from everyone. matt, mortified by the spectacle, quit in sheer embarrassment," she added, her smile broadening as you let out a laugh.

"alright, that's enough," matt said, his face flushed with complete embarrassment as he closed the photo album with a decisive snap. "we will never speak of this again," he declared, pointing at you with a mixture of finality and playful admonishment.

"no promises," you smirked, a mischievous glint in your eye, as he let out a groan of exasperation.

"i'm never gonna hear the end of this, am i?" matt asked, a resigned sigh escaping his lips as marylou walked out of the room and into the living room, leaving behind an air of playful mockery.

you rise gracefully, planting a tender kiss upon his lips. "never," you murmur softly against his mouth, eliciting a playful scoff from him. "now, tell me more about the tee ball team," you continue, your curiosity piqued.

matt hesitated, a flicker of uncertainty crossing his face before he sighed and began, "okay, fine. there was this one time, i felt incredibly confident, but when i swung, i missed entirely. on my second attempt, though, i hit the ball with such force that it ricocheted off the fence and came hurtling back, striking me right on the helmet."

you let out a hearty laugh, the sound echoing through the room, as matt stood there, seemingly unfazed, a bemused smile playing on his lips. the juxtaposition of your laughter and his serene demeanor created a moment of shared amusement, rich with unspoken understanding.

"it's not that funny," he said, his smile lingering despite the embarrassment that colored his cheeks. he was undeniably self-conscious, yet he couldn't help but revel in the sound of your laughter and the sight of your radiant smile, finding solace in the joy it brought.

"it is! oh my god!" you exclaimed between bouts of laughter, "i can just imagine it." your words tumbled out amidst your mirth, painting a vivid picture in your mind of the scene he had described, each detail adding to the hilarity.

»--•--«

once the house had settled into the stillness of slumber, and the rhythmic breathing of those asleep filled the air, you and matt silently slipped out of the confines of his room. the door creaked ever so slightly as it closed behind you, a whisper of sound that seemed magnified in the hush of the night. hand in hand, you navigated the dimly lit hallway, the soft padding of your footsteps barely disturbing the tranquility that enveloped the house.

"you should really consider decorating your room, y’know," you giggle, your voice a gentle ripple in the quiet room, as you rest against the counter, fingers tracing absentminded patterns on its cool, smooth surface.

he opens the fridge, the door swinging wide with a soft creak, and turns to you, his eyes meeting yours with a resolute "not happening" look that speaks volumes. the light from the fridge bathes his features in a soft, ethereal glow, casting delicate shadows that dance across his face, highlighting the firmness of his expression.

"wait! stay still, you look so good right now," you exclaimed, a radiant smile spreading across your face. with a fluid motion, you reached into your pocket, retrieving your phone and quickly snapping a photo of him, capturing the moment in a frame of digital memory.

"i do? really?" he asked, his smile playful as you nodded. "c'mere," he murmured, his voice a soft invitation. with a gentle touch, he laid your phone flat on the counter, his fingers lingering for a moment. then, with a tender grasp, he took your hand, pulling you close. in one fluid motion, he spun you around, the world blurring for a moment as you twirled, laughter bubbling up between you.

"may i have this dance?" he asked, his voice warm and inviting, the cool air from the fridge mingling with the warmth of his touch. his words hung in the air, a gentle melody that intertwined with the soft hum of the refrigerator, creating a moment suspended in time.

as you swayed together, the hum of the refrigerator provided a rhythmic backdrop to your impromptu dance. the coolness of the floor beneath your feet contrasted sharply with the warmth that seemed to radiate from your intertwined hands. the world outside this moment faded away, leaving just the two of you, moving in perfect harmony to the silent symphony of your hearts.

matt's eyes never left yours, and in that moment, the world outside the kitchen seemed to fade away. the simplicity of the scene—just the two of you, moving together in the soft light—was imbued with a sense of magic and intimacy.

his fingers lightly traced patterns on your back, and you could feel his heartbeat, steady and reassuring, against your cheek. the air was thick with unspoken words, every touch and glance a silent conversation that spoke volumes.

"this is perfect," you whispered, resting your head against his chest. your words seemed to dissolve into the warmth of his embrace, each syllable a tender echo that mingled with the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. the moment felt like a delicate tapestry woven from fleeting seconds, each one imbued with a timeless serenity that made the world beyond disappear.

matt chuckled softly, his breath ruffling your hair. "it really is," he murmured, holding you a little tighter. the scent of something sweet from the fridge mingled with the faint aroma of his cologne, creating a unique blend that you knew you would always associate with this moment.

the air seemed to shimmer with an almost tangible sense of connection, each breath you took filling you with a profound sense of contentment and belonging.

as the minutes passed, you both lost track of time, the kitchen becoming your private sanctuary. the outside world, with all its noise and chaos, seemed a distant memory. in the refrigerator light, everything felt simpler, more profound. the gentle hum of the appliance served as a lullaby, weaving a cocoon of tranquility around you, where every heartbeat and whisper echoed with a timeless resonance.

"i wish we could stay like this forever," you said softly, your voice barely above a whisper. your words floated in the air, delicate and fragile, as if they were a secret shared only with the night. the sentiment hung between you, a wistful longing that seemed to transcend the moment, filling the space with an almost palpable sense of yearning.

"who says we can't?" matt replied, his tone filled with gentle resolve. "for as long as we're here, this moment is ours." his words, though simple, carried the weight of a promise, resonating with a quiet strength that seemed to fortify the fragile bubble of time you both inhabited. the certainty in his voice wrapped around you like a protective cloak, anchoring you in the profound stillness of the present.

and so you continued to dance, the refrigerator light casting a soft glow on your faces, illuminating the love and connection that bound you together. in that quiet, secluded space, you found a piece of eternity.

the soft hum of the refrigerator and the gentle rhythm of your movements created a symphony of stillness, each note a testament to the unspoken bond you shared. in that fleeting moment, time seemed to stretch and bend, allowing you to grasp a fragment of forever.

»--•--«

the atmosphere was thick with an unspoken heaviness, like the charged air before a tempest. "you never listen to me, matt," you uttered, your voice quivering with a mix of frustration and despair. "i feel like i'm always shouting into the void, and you just don’t care.”

matt's eyes blazed with a fierce intensity. "that's not fair," he retorted sharply. "i've always been here for you, but you never see it. you're always too wrapped up in your own world to notice."

"my own world?" you echoed, your eyebrows knitting together in disbelief. "you're the one who's always distant, always distracted." you threw your hands up in frustration. "it's like i'm living with a ghost."

"maybe if you weren't so demanding, i wouldn't have to be," matt retorted, his voice rising. he clenched his fists, his knuckles whitening. "i can't breathe with you always on my back."

the words cut deep, and you felt a pang of hurt. your eyes welled up as you took a shaky breath. "so it's my fault now?" you asked, your voice breaking. "i'm the reason you're unhappy?"

matt ran a hand through his hair, exasperated. his fingers tangled in the strands as he sighed deeply. "i didn't say that. but maybe we just want different things. maybe we're not meant to be."

the silence that followed was deafening, each second stretching into an eternity. finally, you took a deep breath, your heart heavy and your voice trembling. "maybe you're right," you said quietly. "maybe we are better off apart."

matt's face softened for a moment, a flicker of regret crossing his features. he rubbed his temples, as if trying to soothe the turmoil within. "i never wanted it to come to this," he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. "but i can't keep pretending everything's okay when it's not."

tears welled up in your eyes, but you blinked them back, refusing to let them fall. you clenched your fists at your sides, trying to steady your breath. "i thought we could make it through anything," you said, your voice trembling like a fragile leaf in the wind. "i believed in us."

"so did i," matt replied, his voice tinged with sorrow. he ran a hand through his hair, his eyes clouded with memories. "but sometimes, love isn't enough. sometimes, we have to let go to find ourselves again."

you stood there, the weight of his words pressing down on you like a heavy blanket. the memories of your time together flashed before your eyes – the laughter, the shared dreams, the moments of pure joy.

each memory felt like a fleeting wisp of smoke, impossible to grasp. the vibrant colors of your shared past dulled, transforming into sepia-toned snapshots that seemed to belong to another life. the echoes of your laughter, once so clear and resonant, now felt like distant whispers carried away by the wind, fading into the background and leaving behind only a haunting silence.

"i guess this is goodbye, then," you said, your voice barely audible, like a fragile whisper lost in the vast expanse of a desolate night. the words hung in the air, heavy with the weight of finality, each syllable a reluctant farewell to the dreams and promises that once bound your hearts together.

matt nodded, his eyes filled with a mixture of sadness and resignation. "goodbye," he whispered, the word slipping from his lips like a final breath, carrying with it the weight of unspoken emotions and the lingering shadows of what could have been.

without another word, you turned and walked away, your footsteps echoing in the empty room. as you reached the door, you paused for a moment, your hand resting on the doorknob, feeling the cold metal beneath your fingers.

then, with a final, decisive twist, you opened the door and stepped through, the sound of the door slamming behind you echoing through the space like a thunderclap, reverberating with the finality of an irrevocable choice.

and just like that, the fragile thread that had held you together snapped, leaving only the echoes of what once was, lingering in the silence like the haunting remnants of a forgotten melody, each note a ghostly reminder of a bond now severed.

»--•--«

you walked on the sidewalks, your cold hands stuffed in your pockets. it was that time of the year again, autumn, when the crisp air carried the scent of fallen leaves and the world seemed to be painted in hues of amber and gold, each step a quiet reflection of the fleeting nature of time.

the season you had dedicated to your first and last love, matt, a time when every rustling leaf seemed to whisper his name and the fading daylight mirrored the bittersweet memories of a love that once burned brightly but now lingered like a distant, melancholic echo.

the memories were swirling in your head as you stepped on the leaves, each crunch beneath your feet a vivid reminder of that fateful night you met his parents, the leaves then as now, a tapestry of moments woven into the fabric of your shared history.

but it wasn't the same. it would never be the same, for the passage of time had woven an intricate web of change, altering the very essence of those moments, leaving behind only the faintest echoes of what once was, forever out of reach.

the leaves in boston had a slightly more colorful tone than the ones here in la. in boston, the leaves descended with a deliberate grace, each one finding its place in a vast, intricate puzzle, creating a tapestry of autumnal splendor that seemed almost choreographed by nature itself.

here in la, however, the leaves fell in a haphazard manner, accumulating in untidy heaps that lacked the same poetic precision and vibrant palette, as if the very essence of autumn had been diluted in the sprawling urban landscape.

just like your relationship. you knew without matt that things would never be the same anymore. the leaves weren’t as colorful and arranged as before, just like your life without matt. the vibrant hues that once painted your days had faded, and the meticulous order that defined your shared moments had given way to a disarray that mirrored the void in your heart.

the world around you seemed to have lost its luster, and the once harmonious rhythm of your existence had been replaced by a discordant melody, each note a reminder of the absence that now permeated your life.

the once vivid tapestry of your shared experiences had unraveled, leaving behind a landscape of muted tones and chaotic fragments, each one a testament to the profound change that his absence had wrought upon your soul.

you couldn't imagine life without him, and now you're living it. the very thought of his absence was once an unfathomable void, a chasm too deep to contemplate, and yet here you stand, navigating the labyrinth of existence without his guiding presence.

each day unravels like a somber tapestry, threads of memory and longing weaving through the fabric of your reality, reminding you of the stark contrast between the vibrant life you once knew and the shadowed path you now tread.

the echo of his laughter, the warmth of his touch, all now distant phantoms that haunt the corridors of your mind, leaving you to grapple with a reality that feels both surreal and achingly real.

the relentless march of seconds feels like an eternity, each moment stretching into a vast expanse of aching stillness, trapping you in an unyielding stasis. the weight of your longing presses heavily upon your chest, a constant reminder of the vibrant self you once were, now seemingly lost in the mists of time.

the person you once knew intimately, with dreams and laughter, feels like a distant echo, unreachable and shrouded in an impenetrable fog. every effort to reclaim that past self feels like grasping at shadows, leaving you with the haunting realization that the journey back to who you once were is a path fraught with insurmountable obstacles, each step a reminder of the chasm that now lies between your past and present.

the parcels, filled with remnants of shared memories, arrived like silent harbingers of an end you were not ready to accept. each step you take on the familiar path feels heavy with the weight of absence, the echoes of conversations and laughter that once filled the air now replaced by an eerie silence.

the streets, once vibrant with the life you built together, now seem haunted by the specter of what once was. the shadows cast by the setting sun stretch long and cold, mirroring the void within you, as you traverse this solitary journey, the intangible essence of his presence clinging to your every thought, a constant reminder of the love and companionship that has now faded into the realm of memories.

amidst the returned items, meticulously packed and devoid of sentiment, there was a glaring omission that spoke volumes in its absence.

the scarf

a simple yet profound token of shared moments and whispered secrets, remained with him. its fabric, once a source of warmth and comfort, now symbolizes a lingering connection, an unspoken tether that binds you to a past that refuses to fully let go.

the absence of the scarf among your returned belongings is a silent testament to the fragments of your existence that still reside with him, a poignant reminder that not all ties can be severed through mere physical distance.

perhaps the lingering scent of you, woven into the very fibers of the scarf, evoked a nostalgic reverie of simpler times. those carefree days, when the world seemed boundless and time was but a fleeting concept, where the wind tangled in your hair as you drove with the roof down, and the soft glow of the refrigerator light cast a dreamy hue over your spontaneous dances. these moments, etched deeply into his memory, are preserved within that scarf, a tangible fragment of a past filled with innocence and unrestrained joy.

it's a poignant reminder of a time when life was unburdened by the complexities that now weigh heavily upon both of you, a testament to the fact that he remembers it all too well, and perhaps, holds onto it as a way to keep those cherished memories alive.

perhaps amidst the heated exchange, words twisted and meanings obscured, the essence of your intentions became a labyrinth of misunderstandings. maybe your desires seemed insatiable, a reflection of the depth of your yearning.

uncertainty clouded your thoughts, a myriad of maybes and possibilities weaving a tapestry of doubt. yet, amidst this fog of ambiguity, one truth stood unwavering. you recognized the undeniable beauty of your relationship, a masterpiece crafted from moments of joy, sorrow, and everything in between. it was an intricate mosaic, each piece a testament to the shared journey, the laughter, the tears, the silent understandings, and the spoken declarations.

in the grand gallery of your lives, this relationship held a place of honor, a testament to the profound connection that, despite its complexities, was nothing short of extraordinary.

within you surged a tempest of emotions, a whirlwind of anger and sorrow, compelling you to cast the blame upon him, to unleash a torrent of accusations and cries, to declare that he was the architect of the ruin.

yet, deep within the recesses of your heart, you knew this would be a falsehood, a deception crafted to mask the painful truth. to blame him entirely would be to deny the complexities of your shared narrative, the intricate dance of choices and circumstances that led to this point.

in the quiet moments of introspection, you recognized that the tapestry of your relationship was woven with threads of both your actions, your hopes, and your fears. to scream and yell would be to ignore the nuanced reality, to shroud the deeper understanding that the unraveling was a shared journey, a masterpiece of human imperfection.

your love for him transcended the physical confines of your being, an overwhelming force that surged through your veins, threatening to spill over the edges of your very existence. it was a love so profound, so intense, that it seemed to defy the limitations of flesh and bone, reaching into the deepest corners of your soul.

this love, boundless and consuming, was an uncontainable fire, a radiant light that illuminated your every thought, every heartbeat. it was as if your heart, in its fervent devotion, could scarcely bear the weight of such an emotion, straining under the immensity of its own passion. in the quiet moments, you felt this love as a palpable presence, a force that both uplifted and overwhelmed, a testament to the extraordinary depth of your connection.

the ache of his absence was a relentless tide, washing over you with such intensity that it seemed to stretch the very fibers of your heart to their breaking point. it was a yearning so profound, so all-encompassing, that it felt as though your heart could scarcely contain the magnitude of your longing.

each beat resonated with the hollow echo of his absence, a persistent reminder of the void that his departure left behind. this longing was not merely an emotion but a physical sensation, a weight that pressed upon your chest, constricting your breath and filling your soul with an ineffable sorrow. it was as if your heart, in its desperate desire to be reunited, could hardly endure the strain of such an immense and unyielding need.

the agony coursing through you was a tempest that neither heart nor mind could withstand, a torment so profound that it seemed to transcend the very limits of human endurance. your heart, with its fragile resilience, and your mind, with its vast complexities, both faltered under the weight of such relentless sorrow.

it was a pain that etched itself into the very fabric of your being, an indelible mark that time could never erase. each moment was a stark reminder of the memories that clung to you like shadows, vivid and unyielding.

for in the quiet recesses of your mind, and the deepest chambers of your heart, you knew that these memories would remain, hauntingly clear, a testament to the depth of your suffering and the enduring power of your love. all too well.

[icanseethefuture333]

PAC: What are your siren powers & qualities? 🧜🏽‍♀️🐚🌊

In these piles there is adult themes so just be wary of some of the content 🤍 Please leave a tip if you can! 😇 $$$

Pile 1:

Shufflemancy -

Lullaby by GWSN

New You by Zolita

How U Want It by Rochelle Jordan

Six of Swords "Knowledge", The Devil, & Nine of Cups "Joy"

What's interesting Pile 1, is that a song by Zolita came on, and she actually practices witchcraft. So you could be into the occult and practice magick or that is the vibes that you give off. You could visit people in their dreams or you have the power to have influence on people's dream, which is insane! You could have Pisce and air placements (Gemini, Libra, & Aquarius). You have a strong hold of people's subconscious and linger in people's minds. I'm getting like restless nights, tired energy, and I feel people stay up because they have racing thoughts about you. You could have a very soft and gentle appearance as well. You give off an air of mystery and it's like "wow I didn't know this girl could have so much power me???". You could have ex partners who wish they could have you back as well. Your eyes are very magnetizing. I feel that you should get into doing glamour magick, mirror magick, and chants or written spells. I feel that you get downloads from the universe, so you have a divine higher power. Also you could speak your desires out into the world and they manifest instantly. I'm getting like a lot of Mercury and Neptune energy. Very imaginative, alluring, and perceptive. (Clarified by Twof Cups "Love") You could also use psychology for seduction (I'm thinking of Robert Greene's books like "48 Laws of Powers" or "The Art of Seduction", so maybe you have read those or should lol). People just can't help but fall for you.

Pile 2:

Shufflemancy -

Mrs. Variety by Leon Thomas, Ft. Tayla Parx

Goodies by Ciara, Ft. Petey Pablo

She Bad by Cardi B, Ft. YG

Strength, Two of Wands "exploration", & Three of Wands "domination"

Okay so this pile is definitely my fire sign (heavy on Aries but also Leo & Sagittarius) pile or my Virgos (Tayla Parx said in the song "Have you ever fucked wit a virgo?"). You guys have a bad bitch mentality and refuse to settle for anything less. Cardi says in the song "I'm a boss in a skirt, I'm a dog, I'm a flirt". So I feel that you like to be a tease when you flirt with people and then leave them looking stupid. You just like to have fun and you know you're not obligated to do anything you don't want to. This could put people in their feelings because it's like "we were just flirting and then they don't even wanna go out with me?". Which honestly, period - you owe nothing to nobody. I'm getting like this coquette energy, where you like to be in male spaces, and you're better at it than them. Whether that's sports, politics, debates, etc. You have a strong dark feminine, masculine energy and it's incredible. I heard "spicy 🔥🌶" so you could even be a hot head and people find that so sexy 😂. You also like to wear red and black. You mainly like to dress in sports wear or a t-shirt and jeans but when you go out you show tf out. "Mrs. Variety" you know how to glam up for the occasion and it puts people in a trance. Some people could even think like "wow I didn't know they had a body like that" or "damn they look fine as hell when they get all fancy". So maybe when you go out to parties, dinners, or dates you could put on a nice suit or dress with heels. (Clarified by Seven of Wands "bravery") You guys are very brave and courageous. That intimidates people but you have a very high standards and you value yourself so keep working towards your goals!

Pile 3:

Shufflemancy -

Who Hurt You? by Daniel Caesar

Haunting by Halsey

Long Nights by 6lack

The Hermit, The Empress, & The Moon

Oh myyyyy 🤭😏 so this could be only for some of the people in this pile but y'all could be ladies/people of the night 😂? I'm getting that you could be an... "accountant" (sw) and if you're not, you would be so successful at it (if you're a minor then this message ain't for y'all, so dont be thinking about being like Kat from Euphoria 💀). For some reason you come off as very sad though or you look like you're sad to some people. You could have dark circles or your eyes tend to look watery/puffy. Some of you could deal with depression as well (I'm sorry baby I know that can be hard to deal with ❤️‍🩹). You could be unhappy with the current position you are in your life and are wishing for change. You could be working at a "dead end job" and you could be saving money, hoping that you can eventually quit one day. You have people who wish they could "save" you from what you're going through in life. I feel like your power could honestly playing into this "damsel in distress" role to get what you want. This pile reminds of Meg fron Hercules when she said "I'm a damsel *grunts*, I'm in distress, I can handle it, have a nice day~". Like even if you're fine and nothing is wrong, they feel they could give you better than what you currently have or got going on. People just have such a strong desire to help you. You are also very beautiful and you could be an introvert perhaps? There could be Cancer, Libra, & earth sign (Heavy Taurus & Capricorn but also Virgo) placements in your birth chart. You like to be alone or do activities that don't require being in social settings. For example, if other people wanted to go to the club, you would rather be at home, work, library, museum, cafe, etc. You don't like to do anything that requires you to force yourself to get out of bed and interact with bed you probably never gonna see again (valid btw 💀). You prefer to be around close friends, family, coworkers, etc. As I was saying earlier though, you have a lot of secret admirers, pile 3 👀. You could look really pretty in the moonlight as well or people want you sexually at night time 😳. You probably the type of person who gets a lot of booty calls or texts and you're like "why me???". It's just you have a connection to the darker side of people and yourself. You provide this healing energy to people and you exude such divine feminine energy, that's very rare to experience in this lifetime. You could be nurturing to your loved ones as well and for people who aren't close to you, they wish they could receive that love as well. You could be creative too and like to either dance, paint, read, write, etc. (Clarified by Ace of Earth (Pentacles).) Now did I not just mention "accountants"?! Lmao 😭 For the people who are working and are in need of some money. You're gonna get a promotion or a new job soon. You have a very seductive body language and aura, I feel like you could use that for some cash ifykwm 👀👀👀 I'm not saying flirt in the workplace but ya know, don't be afraid to wear your hair a certain way, sway your hips, bite your lip, etc 😌 your clientele would much appreciate the "fanservice" 💅🏽

Pile 4:

Shufflemancy -

No Scrubs by TLC

Enough For Love by Kelela

Balenciaga by Princess Nokia (This song came out in 2019 💀)

Three of Cups "abundance", Four of Cups "Comfort", & Seven of Swords "Deception"

This is very interesting and unique. So pile 4, I feel like you don't care for trends but you know how dress down. The song keeps talking about "drip" so you're styling, you naturally have this swag that nobody else. Whether it's your clothes, the way your carry yourself, or your aura - you're just cool as fuck. You know how to budget and you understand that you don't gotta spend a lot of money to look fabulous but when you do, everything just fits you just right. People could think you're (or you are) very wealthy because of this. I'm reminded of that video Cardi B posted when she said some of her pieces were like a hundreds of dollars and ome thing would be like 20-30$ ("Learn how to budget hoe!" Lol). People could even feel like shocked or duped by that too like "oh you're not a millionaire but have this" or "that outfit is that cheap? It looks so good". A lot of people have this misconcept that being rich means you know how to dress and trust me... I've seen a lot of celebrities wear terrible outfits. When it comes to fashion, you are a expert honey. I'm thinking of that song by Migos: "My bitch is bad and boujee". In your dating life, you refuse to date people who don't have a plan, or don't wish to take care of you financially. For example, if you're on a date, and you pay for one date, you'd be okay, but if the other person continously just mooches of you, you'd cut them off with the quickness. So you only date people who are "high value" and can add substance to your life. (Clarified by Six of Swords "Success") You are private when it comes your money, goals, and achievements. I feel that you are like a "humble bragger". You like to work in silence snd let the results show for yourself. If not, you should start learning how to do that. It can protect you from the evil eye 🧿!

Pile 5:

Shufflemancy -

Honey by Riri

Slow Down by Normani & Calvin Harris

You Got Me by The Roots, Ft. Erykah Badu

Seven of Cups "illusion", The Lovers, & Ace of Air (swords)

This pile's energy is reminding me of Sade. I'm getting a very classy, refined, and sensual vibe to you pile 5. Sade could be one of your favorite artists as well or you like to listen to smooth jazz, r&b, soft rock, or any song that's typically more mellow. You could be old fashioned as well and desire a more traditional relationship. You either are in a relationship right now or you dream of finding that special someone and being with them for the rest of your life. I'm hearing the lyrics "will you still love me when I'm no longer young and beautiful" by Lana Del Rey and some of the people that chose this pile could be older in age or they are more mature than others their age. You have a deep soul and it entraps people, an enigma. You could like to take it slow when it comes to love and that makes the people you date drawn to you even more. I'm being reminded of Mariah Carey when she says in her song: "I can't be elusive with you, honey". You are able to communicate clearly to others what your needs are and if they aren't being met, you have no issue with leaving because you know that you deserve better - Whether at work or in your relationships. In your past, you could have experienced a lot of disappointments due to your expectations not being met. I'm also seeing that people have fantasies about being in a relationship with you and see you as a good potential for marriage. (Clarified by The High Priestess) You attract others to you when focusing on your spiritual path. I feel that you are most abundant when you are connected to your higher self and follow what makes you happy. People feel drawn to you when you are the best version of yourself.

Pile 6:

Shufflemancy -

Dreamcatcher by Metro Boomin Ft. Swae Lee

Te Amo by Rihanna

Somewhere I Belong by Linkin Park

The Chariot, Ace of Water, & Death

I feel that this is my queer pile. Some of you might be sapphic/attracted to those of the same sex or you attract others from the same sex. You could be flirtatious when you have the courage (maybe even liquid courage?). You could be very persuasive and charming, it's a turn on for people 😂. If you're not lgbtq+, then I feel like you give very "sus" compliments to others. For example, you ever see girls in another girls' comment sections? You would think that they're gay by the shit they be saying 😭. I feel like you make friends or attract lovers easily because you have such a likeable personality. You're funny, friendly, and supportive so you make people feel good inside. Although, I feel that you guys have trouble with your relationships. When you like someone you get all these butterflies and stutters when you are around someone you really like. So even though you like them you're afraid to tell them how you feel. To make sure that person doesn't know you just act nonchalant and pretend that you're online looking to have fun and nothing serious. "I'm here for a good time not a long time" basically. I'm reminded of Danny from Grease, he was totally smitten for Sandy but he didn't want to let go of his tough guy image for her. Where instead of you having a tough guy image, you use your sense of humor for protection out of your own of fear of rejection or heartbreak. I feel that growing up your interests, sexuality, or personality was different from the rest so it could have made you feel lonely or isolated as well. You wanted to find a place where you belong and so you had to find your own group of people that you can connect with and feel close to. (Clarified by The Sun) I'm seeing partying, dancing, one night stands, make outs, the "Suck and Blow" game, etc. You guys are just wild, pile 6 😂! You change people's lives forever after interacting with you. I'm getting like "drunk girl in the bathroom that's my bestie for the night". You become a "core memory" to people because of your uplifting personality and silly jokes. If people feel down in their lives or really depressed. People suddenly remember the things that you did for them and it cheers them up. You are a beam of light for others in their darkest hours!

Pile 7:

Shufflemancy -

LEFT RIGHT by XG

From Time by Drake

N.E.R.D - Kites

Daughter of Fire, Nine of Cups "Joy", & Two of Cups "Love"

Pile 7, I feel the way you dress has pieces of your culture involved. Your style could be very bohemian as well. I'm seeing tribal tattoos, beads, neck pieces, sarongs, and feathers. You could be very passionate when it comes to what you believe in. You also seem to be proud of your heritage. For some people in this pile, you could be artists. You could be dancers, actors, in theater, do pottery, work with clay, or paint. I see that you are very talented with your hands. Maybe some of you even make jewelry or know how to sew clothes. Your skin could glow in the sun or it's just naturally radiant and beautiful. You could also be kind of cheeky and vivacious 🤭. People find thatt so adorable and endearing. You could like to make people blush or find people's reactions funny when you mess with them. I'm reminded of Joy from Red Velvet. She has this like "I'm hot and I know it" mindset or is well known for being "cutie-sexy" and it's refreshing. You could also be a really good kisser 😚 or you have these plump lips that people wish they could get a kiss from 💋 I'm also seeing licking or biting so you could do this with your lips or to others 🥵 This pile reminds me of the love interests in the movies and it seems that everyone just really likes you, pile 7. You're the Mary Jane to people's Peter Parker/Spiderman. (Clarified by Three of Cups "Abundance") What did I just say?! You have so many people who want to offer you a love proposal or ask you out on a date. I feel that you guys are aware of manifestation and have a positive self concept. You could practice law of the assumption and just affirm/assume that you're highly favored and desired. If you need a confirmation that what you're doing is working - It is, stand in your power ✨️

Pile 8:

Shufflemancy -

Niki - Spell

Stray Kids - Deep End by Felix

Shilpa - Selfish

The Fool, Mother of Air, & Three of Pentacles ("Work")

I feel that in your relationships you have been selfless and devoted. You express your love with acts of service and quality time. Expressions of emotional intimacy could make you uncomfortably possibly (reflect as to why!). You are logical and intelligent. You may enjoy reading and writing. (Clarified by Daughter of Air) Growing up your parents could have been strict and were very traditional. You could have done well academically in classes (the girl in this card has a sword, you could be "cut throat" with your words, some of you could been in debate club?). Your voice commands just attention. I feel as you got older and gained more of your independence. You began to rebel from your parents rules and expectations, discovering who you truly are without other people's influence. NSFW warning but I believe people would love to be degraded by you 👁👁? Some of you could be dominant sexually or be a dominatrix. While also balancing it with this maternal energy? ("Mommy? Sorry- Mommy? Sorry-"). Or your style has elements of fetishwear (harnesses, leather, boots, etc). I feel that people who are involved with you romantically/sexually just become like your litte worker bees while you're the queen. I can also see that you're noncommittal as of right now or just exploring your options. This upsets people greatly because you have a great amount of secret admirers who would love to be your partner. You could get late night calls or text messages from exes and you're just like so over it (which is understandable 😂). Your cold and dismissive attitude just draws people toward you. I'm reminded of Jennie from Blackpink or Heather from Total Drama. They both have dark hair, cat like facial features, and their expressions are just effortlessly cool and confident (you could possibly have these features also). You fit into that "pretty mean girl" trope.

Pile 9:

Shufflemancy -

Qveen Herby - BDE

Retronaut - Talk

Lauren Jauregui - Em(oceans)

Eight of Cups ("Despair"), Strength, & The Emperor

I feel the people in this pile has luscious hair and something about it could be shiny or radiant (some of you have wavy hair or the texture is soft or silky). Your features could look ethereal or possibly be androgynous. You have a balance of feminine and masculine energy. Your nose, cheekbones, and jawline structure could be prominent and defined. I feel that the people in this pile are like a Phoenix, they have suffered in silence, and had to rise from the ashes. You don't let people see you suffer and so you let yourself heal in silence. When people hear your story and learn about what you've been through, they gain so much admiration for you. They'd never suspect to such things happen and therefore it's like they gain respect, while others think you had it easy. People wonder how you got all this success but what they don't understand is that you had to literally come from the mud in order to become this pearl that washed onto shore. You did your part and fought for your power, which I commend you so much for pile 9. You are like this beautiful warrior, you carry so much strength and bravery inside of you. What's also attractive about you is how you set boundaries and change the topic when someone becomes too invasive with your questions. You are stoic and a mountain that can't be moved with just meer charm, if a lover wanted to impress you, they would have to do more than that. (Clarified by Ace of Swords) I feel that the people in this pile could be sapiosexuals. Someone who is passionate about their talents, work, loved ones, etc, is just so sexy to you. Your ideal match would be someone who could let you take the lead in the relationship (pick the restaurants, what location to travel to, etc) but in the bedroom then its their turn 👀.

[plutowon]

enhypen as mythical / supernatural

creatures ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚

pairing: enhypen x gn!reader

genre: fantasy, fluff

warnings: blood mention, fantasy violence, reader is somewhat described as short ?

happy halloween!!

🍰 ೄ🩰ྀ࿐ 🧸ˊˎ-

heeseung- banshee

  heeseung was always emotional. 

  that’s how you met him.

  sitting atop of the old hill in the town park he cried and wailed with flowers clutched in his hands. you being the kind and gentle spirit you were, went up to ask him what was wrong, to which he responded “i don’t know”. usually when people see heeseung they don’t mistake him for human. your approach startled him a bit, even more so when you grabbed his cold dead hands and drew him into a hug. 

  you run your fingers through his hair and tell him everything is gonna be okay. then, you took him out to eat. of course you two got a few stares—holding hands with a banshee tends to draw in attention—but you seemed not to notice. you hold his hand and listen to his sorrows. you caress his cheek and you don’t flinch at the lack of body heat, paying no mind to the coldness that surely makes your hands freeze slightly.

  mourning death all his life, he finds your kindness and comfort refreshing.

  your boyfriend is a bit pessimistic. he looks at the glass half empty rather than half full. like when you watched coraline for the first time and he cried for half the movie believing there was no way she’d make it out of the beldam‘s hands alive. or when he sulked for half a day because he felt the sad lady from next door would never find love, resulting in the death of her love life. you told him to keep his head up and a week later, she comes into your home, bringing cookies and talking about a handsome man she met two nights prior. heeseung supposes there are some happy endings. but even so, he’s sweet and sings you songs all the time. his favorite thing to do is sing you lullabies and watch your sleep consume you. you look so beautiful while you dream, he wishes he could be in your dreams with you. he wonders what you dream about. he wonders if your dreams are as beautiful as you are. you like to take him on happy adventures and show him the world is not as bleak and depressing as it seems. you did make the mistake of taking him to a theme park, more specifically the rollercoaster, where he cried and called it a big death and torture machine. even if you left him outside he refused to let you ride it by yourself, certain that you’d fly out and die (he saw it on the news). needless to say that was the last time you went to six flags…disney world was fun though! you try to make him try new things as much as possible. heeseung finds it exciting. he looks forward to your little rendezvous. 

  he still cries and wails, mourns death every sunday at the top of the old hill, but after all his pain and anguish has been tossed into the atmosphere, he comes home to your warm and loving arms, where you hold him with love.

jay- ghost

  you knew your house was haunted. you knew the moment you walked in with the realtor.  would that stop most people from renting a house? absolutely. did it stop you? no.

  the house was dirt cheap and you really needed a place to stay after your ex boyfriend kicked you out of the house. your parents are 900 miles away and you’ll be damned if a little ghost made you sleep in boxes on the street until you could get a plane ticket.

  jay’s first attempt to scare you ended in a scoff. you laughed at him. how insulting. but it doesn’t get any better when he ramps up the scare factor. he’ll get you to jump, maybe a tiny shriek, only for you to come back and be like “wow that one was really good you’re getting better” with a smile etched into your face. seriously, what the hell was wrong with you? why was it so hard to scare you out of his house? he tried everything from making your dishes fly to making the lights flicker to making you see visions of dead people but nothing worked. he even flinged your knives into the wall (not that he would ever physically hurt you but perhaps if you thought he would you’d finally leave…you did not).

  one night though, he shows you his face through the bathroom mirror. instead of a scream, you swoon, clasping your hands together across your chest. you call him handsome and beg to see him again. you beg for days and days. it tires him out, so he appears again. he’s much taller than you, which has you giggling and twirling your hair before you offer him a shy “hi”. he thinks you’re insane.

  your ghost boyfriend has now devoted his already dead life to protecting you from other supernatural entities. once, a goblin came into your house unannounced and…well jay didn’t take too kindly to that. he gets jealous when you have friends over. perhaps it’s the fact that your friends have physical bodies to touch you. not that you can’t feel his touch, but it’s not the same. he also just doesn’t like mortals entering his property, and he’s now extended that possessiveness to you. he’s still sweet though. watches over you while you sleep to make sure no demons come by. most creatures that come by don’t expect jay to be so tough and intimidating–he’s just a ghost–but they always end up leaving the house in fear, trembling. he has a habit of sneaking up on you to tickle you, the sound of your laughter that once filled him with rage now fills him with glee. he wishes he could feel you better, but still, he loves the touch of your skin. his favorite time to see you is in your dreams, where you are both on equal planes. he can feel your soft hands, kiss your pretty lips, and have normal dates with you. it’s also great that he can defy laws of reality.

  jay has been dead for years and years now, but having you in his home makes him feel alive once more.

jake- angel

  you meet jake while he’s on a thrilling adventure exploring the mortal world. he bumps into you at the mall, knocking you over. of course, being the literal angel that he is, he helps you up. you’re just a small fragile human—he could’ve killed you for goodness sake! (he couldn’t have but he still believes he could’ve)— he calls you gorgeous, as he failed to realize that most humans tend to restrain from saying every thought that comes to their mind, no matter how good the thought may be. but to his luck, you blush and say thank you and he thinks you’re the cutest flower he’s ever seen. you give him your number on the back of a receipt and jake is too ecstatic to realize…ah…he doesn’t have a phone.

  he buys one just for you though! and after that you two are inseparable. jake being the literal angel that he is, takes care of you like his life depends on it. your sick? jake’s here. hard time with school? jake’s here. your friend’s being a bitch? jake will be there to listen intently to allll your drama, and not just because he’s a little nosy. 

  of course, he’s begged god to make him your guardian angel, to which god reluctantly agreed, so long as he does not take his guardian duties too far or too lightly. there’s also monthly check-ins with the head guardian angels to make sure jake doesn’t go too far. you ask him if it’s too much of a burden, to which he smiles and tells you he couldn’t be happier.

  he’s still a bit naive when it comes to humans. he doesn’t often think that human beings can be so cruel and evil, but when he witnesses this firsthand, he’s worried about you! what if you fall victim to these cruel and heinous creatures! his fragile little flower…he’d never forgive himself. he protects you with his life. he asks you a great many questions about human beings and their history, what they’re like and such. you think it’s cute. jake is so sweet it makes your teeth ache.

 the first time he shows you his wings you’re in awe of the way they span across his back. they’re big enough to be a makeshift shield. his beautiful pure white feathers are soft to the touch. you run your fingers along the point in which his wings sprout from his back only for jake to laugh and fall to the floor. ah, he’s ticklish. he loves to hold you with his wings and shield you from the world. just the two of you together. per his guiding duties, he’s a little bossy. he tries to steer you away from bad decisions and protect your pure innocent eyes from seeing horrendous things, which you appreciate, but you also wish he would let you go crazy and stupid. you know, for the plot.

  your cute angel boyfriend may think you to be the most delicate dove in the whole world, but you also can’t help but hold him close to prevent him from flying away. he holds you against him with his wings covering over you so you can rest easy. he’s not going anywhere.

sunghoon- siren

  sunghoon has no intention of drawing anybody into his waters, but when he sees you on the sand he can’t help but stare. when you lock eyes with him, he knows it’s wrong to tempt and tease you, but he’s selfish by nature and he wants you all to himself. you must forgive him for this.

  you are his most valuable treasure.

  when you’ve submerged yourself into the water and make it to his arms, he sings to you. he holds you tightly and carries you across the waves and you both fall in love together in the deep, salty waters that you don’t even realize you’re in right now. he brings you back to the sand, kisses your legs and hands all the way up to you forehead, but your lips are left lonely. he makes you a promise. till death do you part and you shall see him again.

  surprisingly enough, the next time you see sunghoon is on land with two legs. of course, you question him and he laughs at your innocence, “yes, my love, i can walk”. the shocked expression on your face is too cute. he kisses your nose and you shyly hide yourself in his chest. he finds the way your cheeks heat up magical. sunghoon is a siren that hides upon humans before he makes his way back to his home sweet home, the chilling sea.

  dating sunghoon obviously entails walks on the beach while the sun sets. he loves watching the moon rise with you, loves the way you look when the light hits your pretty face. he always sings you songs. karaoke at least twice a week is definitely a must. he loves hearing your voice too, whether you’ve been singing for 15 years or 5 months, he loves it. he loves to tease you. loves the way he can fluster you just by staring at you for a bit too long. it gives him a huge ego boost. the way you melt into his touch makes him sore, he feels like he’s become a creature of the land, sea, and sky. when he does go back into his waters, he misses you. longs for the hours in which he can see you again. he loves when you visit him so he can swim with you and hold you for just a bit longer. you find that sunghoon likes to be up at night. you find that usually he comes to you in the late afternoon or at night. he brings you beautiful jewelry and treasures. pearl necklaces and pearl embroidered dresses. gorgeous hand held mirrors and diamond earrings. how he obtained the items is something you don’t have to worry your pretty little head about. he loves to spoil you rotten. when you do see him during the day, he just wants to cuddle up against you and rest.

  being lovers of different domains is hard, but to sunghoon, loving you is the easiest thing he’s ever done. to him, you’re more valuable than all the jewels in the world combined. 

sunoo- dragon

  you should not be in this cavern alone all by yourself. this you know, but cannot bring yourself to care. you’re far too curious to stop now. but when you’re deep into the cavern, you see something glow in the distance. you walk closer, too close, and you hear a loud growl. which makes you jump back. there that stares as you is a fierce dragon. he inches closer and closer to you as you tremble in fear. he asks what you’re after, to which you panicked and told him you were just nosy and thought this was where your peers were meeting to share their secrets.

  he looks at you quizzically and sighs before he turns into a much smaller man.

  although he’s still bigger than you, almost towers over you and his shoulder span is twice as big as yours, it’s still much less anxiety-inducing than a big fire breathing dragon.

  especially because he’s gorgeous.

  he gives you a death glare that has your knees weak. he rolls his eyes at your shameless display of attraction before he takes your hand and pulls you, guiding you out of the cavern. to sunoo’s surprise, you keep talking. you ask him questions, ask him about what he does, tell him about your life, and sunoo would like to say he doesn’t care, but he does. a lot. when he leads you out, you promise him you’ll be back. he gives no visible reaction, but inside he smiles a little bit. your warm his heart.

  your boyfriend would describe human beings as incompetent and selfish beings—minus you, of course—and you tell him he should be more open minded, but sunoo has dealt with (and severely injured) a great many humans that don’t know their place. you think it’s cute. you call him your hot emo boyfriend, something sunoo thinks is annoying and corny but he endures it for you. he’s snappy, takes no shit. he’s more patient with you, but the average worthless human being that tried it with him? it takes everything in him not to burn their eyebrows off. thank god he has you. if not, he’d probably burn your city to the ground. he’s also grateful, but concerned that you find his temper attractive. perhaps he should send you to a therapist.

  his favorite thing is when you think you’re being sneaky and you creep in his cavern while he’s sleeping and slip yourself between his body and his tail and cuddle up against him, falling asleep until he wakes you up. he finds it adorable. he loves to guard you with his tail. loves how safe and secure you feel around him. despite what others might think, sunoo is incredibly caring. before you leave the house he makes sure you’ve got yourself together. tidies up and smooths out your clothes, tucks your hair behind you ear if it’s down and makes sure it’s out of your face. he cooks for you, cleans with you, and makes sure you’re safe and happy.

  although sunoo usually hates being disturbed, he’s glad you woke him up that day. because of you, he always has something to look forward to. and if he can help it, for the rest of your day’s you’ll always have someone to protect you…and someone to burn the hair off your enemies.

jungwon- fairy

  the leaves and sticks crunch beneath your feet and you find a place in the forest where the sun’s light seems to beam down brighter than the rest of the forest. the sun feels nice on your skin. you take in the smooth air and breath out, content.

  when you turn around, you see a man with beautiful translucent wings that glitter yellow, but the tips of his wings are pink. he looks at you wide eyed. his smiles before he runs up to you, taking you in his arms and spinning you around, “oh my god, a human! you’re sososososososo cute~~”, he goes on and on excitedly. he sits you on his lap, inspecting every aspect of you from your cute little nose to your pretty eyes to how ticklish you are. you truly are the most adorable thing he’s ever laid his eyes on. unfortunately–or fortunately, i should say–because of fairies interest in humans, he’s decided that you are his human and his only, like a little kitten he gets to love and take care of! it’s a dream come true. 

  he takes you deeper into his side of the forest, where jungwon’s fairy friends come up to you both and ask about you in awe. when they try to touch you though, he swats them away and hisses at them…you had no idea fairies had fangs… .when you tell him you must go home, his face falls for a second before he smiles again and says you may go, so long as he get to go with you. and when his wings flutter happily and he’s bouncing, how could you say no?

  although jungwon has declared that you are his cute little human that he shall protect and care for, outside of the forest, you find yourself being the one watching over him. you no longer allow candy in the house because if it’s in a 10 mile radius jungwon will eat it all, resulting in a very sugar high fairy bouncing off your walls. before jungwon had a concept of human society, he went inside of a candy store and ransacked the place…never had you imagined yourself in a police station like this. it didn’t help that jungwon kept asking the cops about scary criminal stories and why and what a taser was for. they ended up letting him go on a warning. being around a lot of humans is also very exciting for jungwon…but he had no concept of personal space. he used to go up to random people and inspect them, pointing out his observations to you. he did this especially when he saw pretty humans, which made you a little jealous but he assured you that you were the prettiest, most adorable human in the world. 

  in the forest, he is much more protective and possessive. no other fairy is allowed within 10 feet of you and touching you is a crime punishable by death. though, he doesn’t like other humans touching you either, he’s more lenient with them. one unlucky human tried to kiss your cheek and almost got his face bitten off…never happened again. and of course, he takes you flying across the sky.

  to jungwon, you are the most precious thing in the world, his most prized possession from the moment he met you. and although he believes your his little baby, you know he’s just as much your baby as you are his.

niki- vampire

  niki is very clumsy for a vampire, if he’s being honest.

  he’s trying hard to beat the edward allegations, but perhaps he should learn how to prioritize because while he’s growling and tearing up in the woods, ripping bark off trees to chew on to dull the ache in his teeth he makes eye contact with a very pretty person, watching him in awe. awkwardly, he spits the bark out of his mouth, his glowing red eyes still looking at you. he tries to think of anything to ease the tension, so he asks you if you come here often. to his surprise, you say yes. you ask why he’s chewing tree bark to which he, embarrassed, says “i’m teething..”

  you coo.

  you come up to him and ask to see his fangs. you ask him if it hurts. he kicks the dirt under his shoes and nods. he licks them and takes a blood substitute for kids box out of his pocket.

  you think he’s so cute. he thinks it’s annoying how you’re cooing at him when you’re a foot shorter than him but he loves the positive attention. you drag him to a target. he notes how small your hand is in his and squeezes it a little harder. you take him to the wooden spoons. you give him one to chew on and take him back to the checkout, where you scan it out and pay. now he shouldn’t have to rip the bark off trees. niki promises to repay you, writing his phone number in your phone before he takes off because his mom was gonna kill him for being out at 1 in the morning.

  niki loves to visit you at your window at night. he’ll tap on it lightly and wait for you to answer. he asks how you are, if you’re safe and if any other vampires have tried to mess with you, to which you giggle and tell him no. he loves to sit and cuddle with you, of course he prefers to be big spoon, but if you pout and say please he’ll give you anything you ask, even if little spoon is embarrassing for him. you spend a good amount of time teasing him, but when he teases you back, suddenly, you’re quiet and he loves it. he loves to pinch your cheeks and carry you on his back. he loves knowing you can depend on him. niki’s very soft with you so you often forget he possesses superhuman strength. a man made the mistake of putting his arm around you and ended up in the hospital with broken ribs once… .he gets shy asking if he can feed off you. he feels bad about it even when you assure him it’s fine. after he’s done, he makes sure you’re taken care of. licks your wounds to the speed up the healing process and gives you a little snack with juice before he cuddles you and soothes you to sleep.

  niki’s very clumsy for a vampire, but his love and devotion to you comes to him as naturally as breathing does. he will love you till the end of time.

[lvllylix]

I have request! You love horror movies. Felix not so much. You picked a horror movie and he tried to suck it up but at the end he was a shivering mess. So scared to sleep at night all he wants to do is cling to you and snuggle like no tomorrow. And you hush him to sleep telling him affirmations. :) 😫😫😫🥺🥺

A/N: Thank you so much for the first request!! I really hope you like this ♡♡♡

Cuddled in Courage

Title: Cuddled in Courage

Song: Warm on a Cold Night by HONNE

Pairing: Felix x reader

Word count: 669

Warnings: none

Summary: You and Felix have a movie night, watching a horror film that you love but he finds terrifying.

--

The dimly lit living room was filled with anticipation as you and Felix settled down for a cozy movie night. You had an affinity for horror films, the thrill, and adrenaline rush being something you enjoyed. Felix, on the other hand, was not as fond of the genre, but he was willing to give it a try for your sake.

You had carefully chosen a movie that promised to deliver spine-chilling scares. As the movie began, you couldn't help but get engrossed in the suspense, while Felix shifted uneasily beside you, his grip on the blanket tightening.

With every jump scare, Felix would flinch and bury his face into your shoulder, seeking solace in your presence. You couldn't help but smile, finding his reactions adorable, despite his obvious fear. You wrapped your arm around him, holding him closer, hoping to offer some comfort.

As the movie progressed, Felix's unease escalated, and he clung to you even tighter, his fingers digging into your arm. You could feel the tension radiating from him, his body trembling with every twist and turn on the screen. Concern washed over you, and you decided it was time to alleviate his anxiety.

Leaning close to Felix's ear, you whispered soothingly, "Hey, Felix, it's just a movie. None of it is real. I'm right here with you, and I won't let anything happen to you. You're safe."

Felix turned his head to look at you, his eyes wide with fear. His voice trembled as he spoke, "I know, but it's still so scary. Can we turn it off? Please?"

You nodded understandingly, reaching for the remote to pause the movie. You turned your full attention to Felix, your voice gentle and reassuring. "Of course, Felix. We can turn it off. Let's put on something light-hearted instead, something that will make you smile."

Felix let out a sigh of relief as the screen went dark, the terrifying imagery no longer haunting his thoughts. You scrolled through the movie options, searching for a comedy that would help lift his spirits. Eventually, you settled on a romantic comedy, a genre that never failed to bring a smile to both of your faces.

As the lighthearted film played, Felix slowly began to relax, his grip on you loosening. However, the fear lingered in his eyes, and you knew he would need more than just a movie to put his mind at ease.

Gently guiding Felix to lie down, you nestled beside him, pulling the covers snugly over both of you. You wrapped your arms around him, providing a warm and secure embrace. You peppered light kisses on his forehead, temple, and cheeks, each one meant to convey your love and reassurance.

"Listen, Felix," you whispered softly, your voice soothing as you stroked his hair. "You're incredibly brave, and I'm so proud of you for trying to watch the movie with me. But I want you to know that it's okay to be scared. Everyone has their fears, and it doesn't make you any less amazing. I'm here for you, and I won't let anything harm you. You're safe with me, always."

Felix's shivering gradually subsided, replaced by a sense of tranquility as your words sank in. His breathing

evened out, his body relaxing against yours. You continued to hold him close, providing the comfort he needed, your voice a gentle lullaby.

"You're strong, Felix. You're loved, and you have nothing to fear. With me by your side, every night will be peaceful and filled with warmth. Let go of the scares, my love, and drift off to sleep. I'll be here, watching over you."

As the weight of his fear lifted, Felix's eyes fluttered shut, a small smile gracing his lips. With your comforting words echoing in his mind, he surrendered to sleep, feeling safe and cherished in your arms.

And there, in the quiet embrace of the night, you held Felix close, knowing that love, reassurance, and the power of snuggles were all he needed to conquer his fears.

[moon-huny]

Stole the Moon - Chapter Two

CW: My content is not for anyone under 18. Some sharp objects in this chapter. Mild language. Some coercion and, whats this, sexual frustration? You're still kidnapped so, mentions of imprisonment.

Word Count: 2.7K

Summary: Finally feeling generous, Buggy calls for his right hand man to bring you above deck. Can he smoothly transition into his plan, or do you have other ideas?

A/N: I know I already said it in an update post, but thank you all so much for reading and interacting with my work. And for all the new followers! It truly means a lot.

I am going to rip the bandaid off now. No clown smut in this chapter. I know, I know, okay, I'm sorry. This is meant to be a slow burn people, we need some push and pull before we get to the push and pull, ya know? That being said, there will be some nasty nasty in chapter three, I can promise you that. Okay, that's all, enjoy.

masterlist ✧˖°

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Days passed and you hadn’t received a visit.

Every evening, a small bowl filled with enough food to keep you alive is passed through the bars along with a small tin cup of watery tasting alcohol. Nobody spoke to you, nobody lit the candles when you ran out of matches, nobody offered you even a passing glance. You were left entirely alone in the darkened hull of a gaudy ship sailing to god knows where.

Maybe he forgot about you. What use could you provide to a man like that? You began to question what it was he even needed you for. What could you possibly know about the sea that he didn't know? You’d tried so hard to remember, hoping something, anything, would come to your mind.

You thought about the map. The one he spread out for you to see that night. You recalled the waiting look in his eyes, hoping you’d recognize it. Nothing. You replayed the moment again in your head, his broad gloved hands smoothing across the fabric of the map. What did the map look like again? All you could think about was the flex of his hand. The way his eyes had flicked up to look at you, under a strong brow and peering through long lashes.

Your memory wandered back to the moment when you were closest to him. When he had you caged against the wall, the heat of his body radiating off of him, hot breath ghosting over your lips. The way his knee pressed ever so deliciously to your –

You gasp, in shock and disgust at your own thoughts. “Oh, absolutely not,” you say aloud. The loneliness was getting to you.

You went to the port hole. In your time down here you’d searched the entire cell for anything you could use to escape. After coming up empty handed, you took it upon yourself to do some… redecorating.

You’d made the bed more comfortable with some fabric you’d found, and stacked the empty cargo into a more comfortable variation so you could look out the small round window. Climbing atop the sturdy mound of boxes and barrels, you looked out across the velvet waves. The crescent moon shone brightly, its reflection causing the gentle water to sparkle and flicker, as though tea candles were floating and bobbing on the surface.

A tear rolled down your cheek, another, and soon you were crying with too little energy to sob. That's when you thought you heard someone walking gently above you on the deck of the ship, humming a tune. It was different from the sea shanties you normally heard during the day, this melody sounded more like a lullaby.

The song was haunting, and yet, hearing another person, knowing somebody was sharing this moment with you in the moonlight, lightened the weight on your chest. Your crying stopped, the comfort taking over your exhausted frame as you leaned against the wall by the window listening to the voice pull you into the warmth of sleep.

Unknown to you, the vocalist leaning against the railing of the ship was devising a plan. A miserable plan to ruin you and lead you to a hell you wouldn’t recognize until it was too late – a sly smirk spreading across his red painted lips.

///

Buggy was spread out across his throne-like chair. The captain’s quarters were decorated like a big top circus tent – red and white fabric ballooned across the ceiling of the small room. The space was filled with gold and treasure of every kind. The desk was cluttered with navigation tools and maps.

“Cabaji, I’d like for you to retrieve our guest now,” his voice dripped with a sinister undertone. He barely paid any attention to the man before him, instead staring at a dainty silver necklace wrapped around his hand.

“Captain, I don’t think that’s such a good idea.” Cabaji wavered before his ringleader. The chief of staff knew what you had the potential to do, he knew what you were and it was only a matter of time before you figured it out too.

“I didn’t ask you to think,” his head fell to the side finally regarding the swordsman. “I asked you to go. GET. THAT. BRAT!”

“Yes, captain.” Turning about-face with a sigh, Cabaji made his way down to your cell.

///

Hearing footsteps this early in the morning was unusual. Unusual enough to cause you to bolt upright in bed. Through the darkened hallway – the morning light not quite reaching the lower decks of the ship yet – your eyes adjusted enough to see a recognizable swordsman stalking toward you through the shadows.

You sprang from the bed, your eyes not once leaving the taller man’s form. Standing in the middle of your room, you made your best attempt to question him before he could reach your cell door.

“It’s a bit early,” your voice wavered, a look of uncertainty on your face. “What do you want?” You questioned hoping that the increase in volume would make you sound more confident, it didn’t.

He unlocked the door and threw it open. “Get out, you’re coming with me.”

“Like hell, where is the clown? What are you planning on doing with me?”

This was the first time anyone had spoken to you in days. This was perhaps the only moment you might have to get some answers.

Cabaji sighed with frustration, he wanted nothing more than to sling you over his shoulder, carry you to the captain’s quarters and save everyone a lot of time, and yet, he recalled the final words Buggy said before sending him on this errand.

“And Cabaji, … don’t touch her.”

He wasn’t one to question Buggy’s orders but, on a crew that was so rarely regulated outside of performance, Cabaji had to wonder what the order was for.

“Come. Now.” You gave the green haired man a hesitant look.

“If I don’t?”

“Then I can only imagine Buggy will let you rot down here.”

Spending another moment alone might kill you, especially in the sensory deprivation chamber that was this room.

“Lead the way,” a weak response. Cabaji turned, leaving the door open.

At first you couldn't make your legs move. The idea that you could walk out, just step beyond the threshold of iron and rust and rot. Yet, you did, slowly at first then all at once speeding up to catch the stoic man.

Climbing up onto the deck in the morning light was reward in and of itself. The sun was just finishing its rise, gracing your skin, warming your face and causing you to squint.

“This way,” Cabaji called after you. He made his way toward an ornate door at the stern of the ship. He peeled the doors open, walked in, and stood to the side as you followed behind him.

His eyes scanned your appearance and, after consideration, displayed a distasteful look. You could have assumed you weren’t looking your best, being locked up on a pirate ship wasn’t exactly a spa retreat. The braid you had your hair in was full of tangled knots you had tried again and again to brush, your skin was dull, reflecting your time in the dark and your clothing could hardly be considered appropriate.

“He’ll speak with you soon,” said the swordsman. “Whenever he decides to collect himself,” and he slipped out behind you, shutting the doors.

Standing alone in the den of a predator, you naturally did what any prey would do, you began to inspect.

The room was beautiful – if not a little cliche for the circumstance – the big top theme was not lost on you. Though the room was small, something about the leading lines of the tent-like structure above you made the space feel larger.

On one end of the room, large draping curtains separated his bedroom from the rest of the office. The large wood carved bed dressed up with colorful weighted fabrics called to your aching body. Weeks of sleeping on a plank had taken its toll on you.

There was a large desk in the center with several detailed maps displayed across it. A small gleaming dagger staked into the mahogany kept a stack of papers in place. After looking around the room and seeing no one, you pulled the jeweled blade from the wood opting to carry it by your side just out of sight.

Behind the desk, a large chair with a circus motif. Golden lions wearing collars perched on the armrests, the crushed red velvet of the seat complimented the gold and ruby circus tent adorning the back.

As you reached out to touch the gorgeously detailed piece, a voice from behind startled you.

“It’s just as comfortable as it looks, ya know,” said Buggy. “Go ahead, have a seat.”

He was standing at the entrance. How did you not hear him come in? You both stood opposite one another in the room. A space between you that was comfortable and one you would normally prefer to keep, but you would rather have revenge. Holding the small knife behind your back, you stood stone still, hands becoming clammy and heart rate picking up.

“S’matter?” he said. “You look terrified.” Mock concern, his specialty.

“What do you want?” quiet, just above a whisper, it was like your voice had floated from your lips. The pillowy softness of your words drew him closer.

He made his way around the desk to you. Your eyes never leaving one anothers. He pulled the silver necklace from his coat pocket. He looked more relaxed without the garish captain's hat and the arsenal of weapons he usually kept draped on his person.

“I wanted to return something.” Your eyes glanced over at his hand holding a beautiful silver necklace. A dainty spiga chain wrapped around his fingers, but the real draw was the antique pendant encasing a gorgeous moonstone. You recognized it immediately. It belonged to someone close to you, but her face was blurry in your mind.

“I’ve never seen that before,” you said, hoping you hid your emotions enough to not draw intrigue.

“Oh? Because, I remember it looking gorgeous on you.” His eyes flicked down to where your arms crossed behind your back. Your breath stopped, squeezing the handle of the dagger hoping he wouldn’t ask.

“Put it on me then,” you say, fast enough to draw his attention away from your nefarious little friend. You spun around quickly to move the dagger in front of you, hiding it against your inner arm where your limbs crossed over your stomach.

The blue haired man smiled a sly smile. He stepped toward you, your back to him was not ideal but, as far as you knew, you still had the element of surprise on your side.

His hand came up to gently move your hair out of the way. His gloved fingertips just lightly brushing along the top of your back and over your shoulder, pushing your braid to the side. You tried to steady your breathing, feeling nervousness rising to your chest knowing what you were about to do.

His arms came up over your head to rest the pendant across your chest. As he brought the clasp together at your nape, he didn’t miss his chance to lightly drag his knuckles against the soft skin on either side of your neck. Clipping the silver together, his touch lingered for a moment.

By the way you reacted to such featherlight touches, Buggy knew Cabaji did exactly as he’d asked. Nobody was to touch you. Your hunger to connect with another person had to be fed by him and him only. If this was to work, he’d have to consume your every thought.

Right now, however, you were poisoning the butterflies in your stomach and focusing on executing your impromptu plan. In one swift motion, you spun to face the man behind you. His arms dropped to the side. His face contorted into one of anger, eyes narrowing at you. The dagger pressed into his jugular, a forceful stab is all it would take to kill him.

“Hands where I can see em, clown,” you spit.

His face pulled into a worried expression. Eyebrows furrowing together, eyes pleading, he swallowed a lump in his throat. You admit, you felt powerful. He began drawing his arms upward in order to bring his hands to the sides of head. You swore your peripheral vision was playing tricks on you.

You whipped your gaze to verify that what you were seeing was true. Both of his arms ended in stumps. Your eyes widened and you affixed your terrified gaze back onto the man.

“Nice try, sweetheart!” and punctuated his remark with a wink.

It all happened so fast, two cotton clad hands flew in from behind you and gripped your wrists. The strength of them hauling you back and pulling your arms up above your head. You looked up and confirmed your fears.

Indeed, Buggy’s disembodied hands were pulling you upward just enough so you were forced to balance on the tips of your toes. You dangled in front of him, chest heaving in panic. You let out various little feral sounds attempting to struggle out of the binding grip he had on you. Until, out of pure vexation, you let out a scream.

“Ooo, geez, honey please,” he said, frowning and squinting his eyes closed. “Little too loud for the morning, okay? Let’s maybe dial it back a bit.”

“I’LL FUCKING KILL YOU!”

“Yeah, well doll, you missed that chance didn’t ya?”

You let out another few struggling grunts and then another scream.

His eyes rolled, “We done? ... Wanna do one more? Ya know, when women are screaming in my room it’s usually after cumming a third time.”

You just stared at him dumbfounded. You couldn’t believe what you were hearing. The comment itself just about slapped you across the face enough to shut you up. He knew it too.

When he clocked that most of your fight had left your body from exhaustion, he made himself at home in your personal space yet again. Feeling his presence so close felt claustrophobic. His eyes scanned you. The weight of his gaze was enough to have you withering, his hands still holding you up.

“This dress is all wrong for you,” he said. “How about you get cleaned up, hmm?” the stump of his arm came up under your chin to lift your eyes to him. “I can’t have an exhausted dinner guest, you’d be asleep by dessert!” Then at a hushed volume, “and I prefer a conscious final course.”

Making a disgusted face at that last comment, what he was offering didn’t sound so bad. The things you would do right now for a bath, a chance to brush your hair, to clean the grime from your nails, to rest. The watercolor green eyes of the man before you softened, as if he knew what you were thinking.

“Alright then … I’ll leave you to it,” he finally dropped you as his hands found their normal resting place on his body. At the snap of his fingers, two young women opened the doors and came rushing in, immediately crowding you.

“Ladies, do you think you can help our guest get more comfortable?” he asked them as he backed up and began to take his leave.

They both stood before you, arms crossed with disapproving looks on their faces. Their outfits were perfect mirror images of each other, same for the makeup. Their hair was cut short, each movement they made caused their tight coils to bounce. The height and overall measurements of the two women were exactly alike as well.

Their only difference was their skin, hair and eye color. The red-haired woman had a pink tinge to her tawny skin – an obvious sunburn from being at sea – and bright blue eyes. The woman on the right had clearly added too much blush atop her natural sepia coloring in order to match her partner’s reddened condition, the hair framing her face was a smooth onyx color, her eyes a warm amber shade.

They turned to face him in perfect unison, “We can try.” They both said.

“Greaaat.” he replied, clearly off put by their synchronization. “Well then, doll, I’ll see you at dinner this evening.”

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚

taglist: @tokoyamisstuff @mommymilkerfanclub @chaoticqueen33 @tootoomanycats

taglist is open.

[anniebeemine]

Rocky Mountain High- s.r.

Spencer Reid had always been a man of logic, reason, and intellect—a person who sought answers in books, research, and the depths of his mind. But at 27, standing at a crossroads in his life, he found himself grappling with doubts that logic couldn’t quell. The doubts had crept in over time, insidious and persistent, making him question his place on the BAU team, his purpose, and whether he truly belonged in the world he’d chosen.

The case had taken them to the Rocky Mountains, a place of rugged beauty and untamed wilderness that seemed almost otherworldly to someone like Spencer, who had spent most of his life in the confines of cities and classrooms. The team had wrapped up the investigation, but the weather had taken a turn, strong winds sweeping down from the mountains, grounding flights and leaving them with an unexpected extra day.

While most of the team had decided to take advantage of the delay to explore Denver, Spencer found himself drawn to the mountains. There was something about them—something ancient and powerful—that called to him, a pull he couldn’t quite explain. He wasn’t an outdoorsman by any stretch of the imagination, but the idea of hiking, of immersing himself in the wild, felt right in a way that few things had lately.

So he set out, alone, choosing a trail that promised solitude and a chance to clear his mind. The path wound through dense forests, the trees towering above him like silent sentinels, their branches swaying gently in the wind. The air was crisp and cool, the scent of pine and earth filling his lungs with each breath. For the first time in what felt like forever, Spencer felt a sense of calm settle over him, a quieting of the storm that had been raging in his mind.

As he walked, the world around him seemed to fall away, leaving only the sound of his footsteps on the trail and the whisper of the wind through the trees. The further he climbed, the more he felt a shift within himself, a loosening of the tension that had gripped him for so long. It was as if the mountains were drawing out the doubts and fears, replacing them with something else—something ancient and unnameable.

Hours passed, but Spencer hardly noticed the time. His thoughts, usually racing at a million miles a minute, had slowed to a gentle hum, allowing him to take in the beauty around him—the way the sunlight filtered through the canopy, casting dappled shadows on the forest floor; the way the wind seemed to sing as it danced through the leaves, a soft, haunting melody that tugged at something deep within him.

As he reached a clearing near the summit, Spencer paused, his breath catching in his throat at the sight before him. The view was breathtaking—an endless expanse of mountains stretching out as far as the eye could see, their peaks dusted with snow, the valleys below shrouded in mist. It was a place of majesty and mystery, a reminder of how small and insignificant one person could be in the grand scheme of things.

Yet, standing there, Spencer didn’t feel small. He felt connected, in a way he hadn’t before—connected to the earth, to the sky, to the very air he was breathing. The wind picked up, swirling around him, and for a moment, he closed his eyes, letting it wash over him, feeling it tug at his hair, his clothes. The sound of it grew louder, like a chorus of voices, singing a song that he couldn’t understand, yet somehow knew was meant for him.

In that moment, something inside Spencer shifted. He wasn’t sure if it was spiritual, or if it was just in his head, but the feeling was undeniable. The doubts, the fears, the questions that had plagued him for so long—they seemed to dissolve in the wind, carried away like leaves on a breeze. And in their place was something else, something that felt like clarity, like understanding, like peace.

The wind seemed to speak to him, its song a lullaby that soothed the ache in his heart, that whispered answers to questions he hadn’t even known he was asking. It was as if the mountains themselves were telling him that he was exactly where he needed to be, that he was enough, that he belonged—not just on the team, but in the world, in this life.

Spencer opened his eyes, the view before him taking on a new significance. He realized that he wasn’t alone, not really. He was part of something much larger, something that transcended the doubts and fears that had been holding him back. He was part of the world, of the mountains, of the wind—and in that realization, he found the strength to keep going, to keep searching for answers, to keep being who he was.

When he finally made his way back down the mountain, the sun was beginning to set, casting the sky in hues of pink and gold. Spencer felt lighter, his steps surer, his heart unburdened. He didn’t have all the answers, but he had something better—faith in himself, in his place in the world, in the path he was on.

As he rejoined the team that evening, no one commented on the change in him, but Spencer knew they could sense it. The doubts that had clouded his mind were gone, replaced by a quiet confidence, a peace that had come from a place he hadn’t expected to find it. The mountains had given him something he hadn’t known he needed—a key to every door he’d been afraid to open, a song that would stay with him, guiding him forward, one step at a time.

[cloverina]

“FRANK, THE RABBIT.”

warnings: mentions of schizophrenia and kissing! other than that, it’s just fluff:3

wc-781, ik it’s shortttt:((

The moon was a silent sentinel in the night sky, casting a cool blue light over the quiet street. A gentle breeze rustled through the leaves of the old oak tree that stood guard over the two houses that had been neighbors for generations. Inside one of them, you lay in bed, the melatonin you took slowly kicking in.

With a yawn, you swung your legs over the side of the bed and padded over to the dusty record player in the corner of your room. You flipped through your collection, searching for the perfect melody to carry you into the realm of dreams. Your eyes fell upon "The Killing Moon" by Echo & the Bunnymen. The cover, with its mysterious artwork, whispered of a time when music was a tangible experience, a shared journey through sound. You placed the vinyl on the turntable, the needle dropping with a soft click as the first haunting notes filled the air.

The song's ethereal introduction began to play, the echoing guitars and hypnotic bassline wrapping around you like a warm blanket. But the serenity was shattered by the sudden, frantic banging on your front door. The sharp sound pierced the quiet night, jolting you out of your tranquil state. Your heart racing, you quickly turned off the record player and tiptoed down the hall, the floorboards creaking beneath your bare feet. The muffled sobs grew louder as you approached, and you knew without a doubt it was Donnie on the other side of the door.

You swung the door open to reveal your neighbor, Donnie Darko. His eyes wild with fear and his face glistening with tears. He stumbled into your house, his chest heaving with panic. "He's here again," Donnie whispered, his voice trembling. "Frank is here, and he's so angry." You guided him gently to the couch in the living room, his brown hair sticking to his damp forehead. You knew all too well about Frank, the 6ft giant bunny-rabbit hallucination that had haunted Donnie since his schizophrenia had worsened.

"Calm down, Donnie," you said soothingly, "You're okay. You're safe here." But his eyes remained wide and unblinking, and he clutched at your arm like it was the only thing keeping him tethered to reality. You realized that words alone wouldn't be enough tonight. You led him to your bedroom, hoping the familiarity of your space might offer some comfort. He followed you, his bare feet silent on the wooden floor, his plaid pyjama bottoms, his grey baggy t-shirt and his teddy bear hanging from his hand.

Once you were both inside, Donnie's legs gave out and he collapsed onto the bed, burying his face in your chest. His body trembled violently, each sob coming in a hitched gasp, his voice strained from the effort of keeping his fear contained. "Shh," you murmured, stroking his hair gently. "I'm here." His breath was hot and quick against your skin, his heart racing like a wild animal's. The room was bathed in the soft glow of your bedside lamp, casting warm shadows on the walls.

You sat with him for what felt like an eternity, his tremors slowly subsiding under your calming touch. When he finally looked up, his eyes were red and bloodshot, his cheeks streaked with tears. "I can see him right now," he choked out, his voice thick with terror. You followed his gaze to the empty corner of the room, knowing that to him, it wasn't empty at all. The air felt charged, as if something unseen lurked just beyond the edge of reality.

Gently, you coaxed Donnie to lie down, his back pressed against the cool pillow. He clung to you, his fingers digging into your shoulder, the plush fabric of his teddy bear smooshed between the two of you. You whispered soothing words, your voice a gentle lullaby in the stillness of the night. The tension in his body began to ease, his breaths grew deeper, and eventually, the rhythmic rise and fall of his chest told you he had found refuge in slumber.

You sat there for a few moments longer, watching the soft rise and fall of his chest. The room was so quiet you could hear the ticking of the clock in the hallway, each second a solemn metronome counting the moments until the next battle with Frank. With a sigh, you lay down beside him, pulling the blanket up to his chin. His hand remained curled around your shoulder, a silent plea to not let go. You brushed a strand of hair from his damp forehead and kissed him softly, your lips lingering for a moment longer than they should have.

[moodymisty]

Instead for studying for my physics exam, I would rather write a characterization of the Night Haunter. I want to mention that I haven't read the books revolving around him and the Night Lords, so all of I am about to read are my own headcanons. I know some information about him, if it's anything incorrect, I would like for anybody to mention that.

I personally think that the song that describes Lord-Primarch Konrad Curze best is Forwards Beckon Rebound by

Adrianne Lenker. In my opinion, the song is about the acknowledgement of the two sides of humanity. It feels like a recognition of the deeply flawed nature of being human, where both shadow and light are held tenderly together. Instead of turning away from the darkness, there's a choice to embrace it, to move toward it, allowing space for the fullness of our contradictions.

Isn’t Konrad just that? Wasn’t he also once a little boy, soft and fragile? Wouldn’t he have smilex sweetly, like newborn babies do, eyes wide with wonder, cradled by the warmth of his world? Didn't he once know the innocence of a baby, whose only need was to be held, to be fed, to be loved? Wouldn’t he, too, have reached out with tiny fingers, grasping at the light, at love, at the simple joy of being alive? Wasn't there a time when he yearned to learn the world through the softness of a mother's touch or the gentle hum of lullabies? Did he not want to stumble through the magic of childhood, each day unfolding like a new story, every moment a discovery, every fall a lesson? Wouldn't he have once known the fullness of joy that only a baby, unburdened by time, can feel?

"...a glowing child-form it was, crawled from the Pit onto the broken street, hissing molten metal dripping from its limbs. It was a daemon, no less, with the body of an infant but the expression of an old man, its eyes black and cold as obsidian."

Konrad never had the chance to live through the soft mornings of childhood. There were no lullabies to guide him to sleep, no hands to catch him when he stumbled. He was born on Nostramo, a world without the warmth of a home, without the safety of parents to shield him. Instead of chasing butterflies or climbing trees, he had to learn to chase small animals, to track and hunt for his survival. He was a feral child.

Adding upon that, he was plagued by visions of the darkest possible future, horrifyingly potent waking dreams that would curse him throughout his life. Upon Nostramo, he was forced to abandon his boyhood. Konrad Curze never had a childhood. The cries of the desperate, echoing beneath the torturer's blade, were the cradle songs that rocked him to sleep. In his dreams, he thought of war, where the fallen lay scattered across unfamiliar worlds. He would awaken to the haunting wails of the dying, only to realize that their anguish was not just a figment of his imagination but a grim reality surrounding him. He wasn't born evil, but made into.

As he grew up, I think he would realise that he wasn't human. He grew too fast, to killed to easily. He yearned for companionship. People knew him as a vermin. I think, in his attempt to appear more human, he began to kill the murderers and street thugs, then whole gangs. Bodies appeared, mutilated and crucified on the walls of buildings. Flayed sheets of skin hung from bridges and severed heads grinned from railings. He associated humanity with something he didn't knew of - justice. Also because of his insanity, he developed his alter ego "the Night Haunter". In his attempt to connect to humanity, he became an avenging spirit, an figure of blind justice -- a murderer other murderers feared. I think that he created the Night Haunter persona for two reasons:

1. The one that I explained above. Attempting to understand humanity, he decided to protect them.

2. Seeing that he couldn't, the Night Haunter became his sole friend.

"Pulling your face close

Wanting the inmost

Show me

I'm not afraid of you now

I'm not afraid of you now

Villain and violent

Infant and innocent

Baby, both arms cradle you now

Both arms cradle you now"

Konrad Curze has never had anybody that loved him. He didn't have a childhood and not even an adulthood. His death, wherever he is, brought him at least peace. He had every right to be what he died as.

Konrad curze is interesting in that he's one of the characters that he really was denied so many of the absolute basics of human life.

[27-royal-teas]

there’s something about the song Liar by Paramore that has you thinking, like, it’s done so beautifully, and Hayley’s vocals are so gorgeous and haunting, that it’s really like, you will REMEMBER this. I mean, I’m a teenager, I’m in my mid-teens, and my idea of nostalgic music atm is like, idk, colbie caillat and natasha bedingfield, but you can TELL with clarity that liar will be one of those songs that you’ll hear back 20 years from now and it’ll feel like a fucking brick to the face. something about the bittersweetness in Hayley’s voice and the way you can almost FEEL how gentle the fingers are on the guitar. there’s care in all of the songs on this is why but liar feels like it has the most delicacy, too. it feels like it’s unlocking old memories and new memories at the same time; it has the same feeling as a lullaby, the way that the verses course into the chorus. idk

[aho-dapa]

Stumbled on tomarry today and now I have a fic idea

I was thinking of playing around with the idea of dark Tom like usual but idk, like I feel like writing about a Tom that fears death would be cool to write about just from more of a healing perspective for this one??

Either way, the idea is that Harry maybe becomes a war hero until he's killed and he ends up having Master of Death shenanigans?? Or becomes Death, or a subset??? Idk yet but, since Harry’s soul is connected to Voldemort it becomes a time travel fic?? But Harry is a ghost that appears the age Tom is and has fragmented memories that he loses and gains

Imaginary friend/ghost Harry basically with a depressed Tom facing the world and its shit

Basically alternate timeline where Tom is honestly just a child growing up with the horrors of WW2 and just trying to pick apart his psyche towards death???

The pretentious title:

thy gentle soul in mine fond hands

The pretentious summary blurb:

Maybe in an another life, they would have been different, as opposites, as strangers. Maybe he would have been unrecognizable to himself in the dirty mirror of their dilapidated flat.

But still.

And still.

His soul will not pass alone.

And that’s all he has ever truly wanted.

Snippets and ideas:

Ghost! Harry: “I want to live.”

Cursed to be bound to the mortal decaying flesh! Tom: “I don’t want to die.”

Planning on giving ghost Harry a body probably, and his memory slowly clarifies and is remembered as time passes and basically, Harry remembers that Voldemort is Tom and instead of freaking out, he's just very overwhelmed by it but also soooooo happy that his Tom is his Tom:

Harry goes to Tom then, takes his startled face in his shaking hands, and leans in. Harry’s breath fogs his glasses and yet he can see the warm brown of Tom’s eyes so vividly.

With a shattered feeling of overwhelming fondness, Harry laughs. It comes out a sob and he can’t help himself from telling Tom, “I love you.”

And Tom, who had been stiff with worry, relaxes and melts easily into his hands. To Harry, his answering smile is everything. It means everything.

“I love you,” Harry says again, gasps it into the small smile of Tom’s mouth, “I love you, I love—I love you.”

That hurt me to write, anyway

“Goodnight, love.”

As in, referring to the song As the World Caves In by Sarah Cothran

Tom character thoughts, as a child discovered death, and basically started grieving for himself and the inevitability of it

If not for Harry, it probably would have maddened and tortured himself into Voldemort

Some aspects of immortality hunting tho since Tom also wants immortality to give Harry mortality (a body)

In this, Tom is just a boy afraid of dying while a ghost haunts him

We die, we are remade, reborn, into fragments of memory and soul. Like a photograph of a moment. An eternity that yellows at the edges until it burns, or warps, or becomes dust.

Like the sound of a lullaby that no one listens to.

It listens to itself and dances to its own music.

“I want to live. I want to cherish my future and I want to be able to have it. Ever since then, since that moment, my life has stagnated, I can’t seem to move it forward or even backward, I just—” Tom gasps a sob, his fist digging into his chest over his heart while he looks to the ground blindly searching for something, “I just… I haven’t moved from that spot. I don’t, I don’t think I even know what living is like?”

“Live for me?”

Tom breathes deep, now looking intently into Harry’s eyes, begging, desperate, “I don’t even really know what is is. People talk of it as some universal truth and yet, after all these years, I still can’t tell—I still can’t…”

“I’m living with you, Tom.”

[yohohonabottle]

When the big fish is away, the smaller meaner ones come out to play.

🖋️ When pirates were rampant in the Whispers' early days, the sirens fed on the sunken ships, the remains of drowned and the seawolves themselves. This continued while the gang fought against the Dead Tide and Water Wights, resulting in more bodies. Merfolk became like their carnivorous scavenger cousins due to waters getting increasingly polluted and plants/fish are full of trash. With the wars over and no more bodies, the smaller, meaner fish turned to hunting.

🎧 Song recommendation: -> Elogia cinerosa // slowed + reverb

Rain pelts down on the streets and piers of Rustport, thunder rumbling and booming. Peaceful quiet and light misty fog. ..And then a clear mesmerizing voice slithers in.

A homeless man from the slums goes missing.

Then some thugs.

Then a child.

The voice slowly gets joined by more and more. Until it grows to a hypnotic choir, flowing through the streets. Fishermen and women disappear.

Like rats from the story of the Piper, the people trickle down to the docks, lower district piers and out the gates, to the shores. Wrapped up in the gentle melody, lulled into deep slumber. None see the danger they walk into or the jaws waiting behind the angelic song. It doesn't matter who you are-- From the Whispers or the Wights, young or old, rich, poor, with a family or without, orphan or not, man or woman. The same fate comes regardless. A watery grave.

The Golden Guest was shut under tight lock-down as soon the innkeeper caught onto what's happening. No guest could get out, those unlucky to not make it inside getting swept into the lullaby.

The Carmine Whispers' leader didn't need to be told that something is wrong. The muffled, faintly buzzing music from outside the manor's window is enough, all too familiar. The haunting calls of those sea-banshees, plague her nightmares still to this day, next to watching her sister fall into the waters to her death. Nara...she was always so fascinated by those devils. Almost died to their songs when they were children living on the streets.

"I want to see them, Sonja! Please big sister! Their songs are so cool!"- Sonja shuts down the memory. 

No. Rustport is under siege, the sirens must be stopped. Before more people die.

Meanwhile on the other side, nestled in the tropical forest out of town--Brineville suffers. As if those blasted Water Wights robbing them isn't enough. Now this!

Would it have been different if Tritonus was still alive? Would the god of the waves been able to help? --Sinbad has no time to dwell on such questions, busy dashing back and forth to warn or shepherd his people to safety. Two families have already went back home and locked themselves up. Lucy was scared but put on a brave face, Blanca wasn't difficult to convince- Both widows heeding his warnings on the condition he promises to stay safe. Tasha was a different story, digging her heels in the dirt like a stubborn mule and refusing to go down without a fight. Even less leave him to fend off those banshees alone.

In the end, the son had no other choice but to grab her under the arms, hauling his thrashing angry foster mam to her house. He's always found her spitfire spirit both awe-inspiring, and irritating. Her defiant unwillingness to relent reckless. I really don't wanna do this. 

But Tash's safety comes first, like all the others'. If a bit of roughhousing means she lives-- Then be it.

—"Lock up, and don't come out. No matter what, stay inside until the singing stops." -The scruff man gives his mother a stern look after pushing her inside. No arguments, no negotiations.

Tasha glares back in angered determination as she gets to her feet, waving a fist at him. Scared for her kid.

—"Kiddo, I'm not letting you fight those sea-devils alone! I'll kick them to the hell they crawled out from, you hear? No way I'm gonna sit here and watch my boy die!" The cannon shots from the Century Forge sound in the distance, the workshop's engineer firing at the 'dames' to drive them away. Disrupt their hypnotic singing.

Unable to look the widow in the eye anymore, with a sigh Sinbad slams the door of the house and locks it up from the outside swiftly.

"Sinbad! Hey! Let me out!" Ignores the frantic banging on the other side, the woman's voice going from rough with anger to shaky. "Sinbad!" I'm sorry, mama. I can't let you stay outside. For your own sake. The banging persists, as Death's choir sings the soothing lullaby.

A sonorous, serene voice drifts, his worries... slowly melting away, tenderly swept by a wave. The orphan forces his legs to keep walking forward, towards the forge. The town. Tell Hugin, Sonja, brainstorm a plan to stop this. The melody settles into his mind, flows into his subconscious, seeps into his very bones.

It's getting harder to stay on-track and ignore the waves' call. Stay away from the water..

Where was I going...? The adrenaline is gone, only peaceful calm. No need to hurry or fuss over tomorrow. It'll be alright. The village is okay, no more raids. Why keep chasing after money? They're not needed anymore so much. No need to be a one-man army anymore.

Peace. Finally.

Why not stop for a little, listen to the beautiful music? Go for a swim? The waters are so clear tonight.. It's been so long since I last raced with my old man....

Yes, a swim would be nice.

The grainy, wet, sand softly crunches under his boots and tidal waves wash over the leather.

A tranquil smile plays on the Seaside savant's rugged features, sauntering closer to the cold water--Unperturbed by the hum of thunder overhead. The downpour soaking his hair and tattered clothes, or the boom of cannon-fire so very distant. Curiously follows the tug instead, wading deeper into the sea until it's to his waist, to his chest.. to his neck.

Come to me

Taking a deep breath, Sinbad dives into the depths.

[dustedmagazine]

Susanna — Meditations on Love (SusannaSonata)

Photo by Ida Fiskaa

Dusted was all in on Susanna in the mid-aughts when, with the one-person Magical Orchestra, the Swedish soprano turned Dolly Parton, Kiss and AC/DC covers into mystical, inhuman hymns. The artist, whose full name is Susanna Karolina Wallumrød, has been productive since then, working with Jenny Hval and her husband David and recording about once a year, primarily on her own label SusannaSonata, but this writer, at least, has missed most of it. I last came into contact with her in 2011, when she set a series of Norwegian poet Gunvor Hofmo’s works to music for the album Jeg Vil Hjem Til Menneskene.

Listening to Meditations on Love, then, is like meeting an old acquaintance by chance, reconnecting with what you once valued in that person and noticing, also, the things that have changed.

Susanna’s voice is a reassuring constant, an effortless, uninflected carrier of melody. She has her diva-ish moments, but mostly lets the notes assemble out of air and fog, coalescing with a purity that seems not quite human. “I was never here, ay-yay-yay-yay,” she breathes in “I Was Never Here,” the tune taking shape like moisture condensing on a chilly car window, a squall of sax, a patter of malleted percussion, a surge of muscular synth coming up behind her. The words—and the music—come as always from a distance, an unbridgeable remove that was what, all those years ago, transformed rock chestnuts like “Love Will Tear Us Apart” into haunted mysteries.

Yet over the intervening years, Susanna has picked up an affinity for rhythm, for jaunty cadences of percussion and propulsive blasts of sound. Her partnership with Dag Erik Knedal a drummer with the jazz ensemble Cortex and experimental percussionist Ane Marthe Sørlien Holen of Pinquins and Ensemble Neon, gives her music a playful, sportive mobility. “Everyone Knows,” for instance, pairs her free flowing vocals with a clip-clopping, vaguely equine beat. Her elongated, tone-shifting “hey-ey-ey-ey,” flows over sharp, edged architectures like honey on a wire sculpture. The music is visceral, even as her singing remains disembodied.

Prickly, tetchy arrangements frame her fluid phrasings, as on “Big Dreams,” where pizzicato strings, arranged and played by Sarah-Hane Summers, flit around her like birds. Jazz sax and clarinet from reedists Harald Lassen and Morten Barrikmo add texture and dissonance. Susanna’s earlier works distilled agitated work into timeless, edgeless serenity, but now her arrangements fuel the music with urgency. “I Took Care of Myself” gallops and careens, powered by a rushing synthesizer riff, a rattle and clatter of drums.

The music is so intricate and surprising and full of life that the cover records start to feel like a parlor trick. Sure it’s fun to hear a Kiss song slowed and gentled to a lullaby, but maybe more important to let Susanna couch her songs in conflict and dissonance, pure still but bristling with complication.

Jennifer Kelly

[faeswoon]

aurora’s voice threads together like spider's silk , tone barely more than a whisper as she begins to coo a familiar lullaby , the melody weaving through the sticky , night air . fingers stricken with dirt and dried blood move gently through vhaalkrin's hair , each stroke growing more careful and soothing , though her own body bears the amethyst and scarlet marks of the brutal battle they’ve just survived . to match , a deep bruise blossoms on her cheek like an unfurling lily , a reminder of the violence they’ve faced ( of who she's becoming ) , but the pain is a distant thud , now , muted by the song she sings .

its words are ancient , a hymn to the great stone father , whose gaze was as unyielding as the mountains and quarries he commanded between flat plains . the melody is haunting, its notes steeped in the cold reverence of her childhood . yet , as she sings , her timbre curls gently around delicate vowels , a softness that speaks of the tender affection she feels for the drow who rests his weary head in her lap . she sings of things greater than herself , of stone and of earth , of the unbreakable will of those who kneel before the stone father , and of the swift relief of life's burden meted out to those who do not .

her gaze is distant , fixed on a blurry point far in the far beyond . the forest that was once her home , the cold eyes that yield consternation of the stone father , the rituals which shaped her — they seem no more than ghosts now , whispers in the wind that tug at the edges of her mind . aurora is a nomad , now , drifting with her pack from one bloody anticipation to the other . but here , with vhaal’s pale crown in her lap , his meditative breathing steady and deep , she finds a fleeting sense of purpose , a fragile peace in the act of affection .

the song continues , its cadence slow and hypnotic , as if each note could lull not just vhaal , but the entire world into a brief , precious slumber . aurora’s fingers never cease their gentle combing through his auburn quaff , and through the chambers of her heavy heart there's a breakable promise that , at least for now , they are safe . and so she sings , her voice a constant thread of comfort in the dark , a lullaby for a weary warrior , even as her own fatigued soul wanders through the wilderness of her memories , unprepared for the battles to come .

[itsren-again]

Familiar

Rating: E for everyone | Word Count: 1718 | Pairing: Adam x Jonah (@sustainably-du-mortain OC Detective) x Nate | Notes: I feel so lucky to have gotten Jonah in this draw. He has been an absolute delight to get to know and work with. Thank you, @sustainably-du-mortain for providing so much detail and information about him. This is actually my first TWC fic in general and I hope I did him and the others justice.

And thank you @wayhavenficexchange for hosting this event and giving me a reason to reach out of my comfort zone.

***

It’s quiet here in Wayhaven, not in the eerie sense, but in the sense that you can still hear footsteps over the gentle bustle of the streets. The few cars that pass by and the nearby cafe chatter won’t drown out the steady tread of shoes against brick sidewalks, even for non-vampires. Vampires, of which there are several in town now, hear even more. 

For some, it’s a relief, a welcome distraction from the sensory overload that comes along with being an agent within the supernatural community’s Agency for peace. Peace and tranquility is what a town like Wayhaven promises, a small community where everyone knows everyone and the days pass by a little slower.

Peace is not what Commanding Agent du Mortain has found on the streets of Wayhaven this morning. A dense fog is blanketing the square, it has been since their arrival late last night. That the townspeople don’t seem to take special note of it tells him it’s typical for the area. How dreary.

But it’s not the low visibility or foreign territory that has dug itself under Adam’s skin and made itself at home. It’s one of those sounds that is so easily isolated in such a quiet town. This one is more prominent than the others. It is to him, at least. He furrows his brow and follows the trail without realizing he’d deviated away from the other members of his team.

The hunt doesn’t take him far; nothing in Wayhaven could be considered far. An apartment building. It mercifully blocks out what sun has dared to escape through the thick fog, casting Adam’s face in heavy shadows that feel cool and welcoming on his skin. It’s an interesting contrast to the warm feeling spreading through his chest. He might prefer the chill.

It’s easy to pinpoint the exact window; it would be, even if it weren’t one of the few ones propped open at this hour. Musical notes blossom from the open space and coast easily to where Adam stood in watch. They turn the westerly wind into their own personal stave, organizing their melody on the gentle breeze.

It’s familiar.

Not that he had heard it before, but that maybe he had felt those same emotions before. It was his mother’s lullaby; it was also the rich scent of rosemary from atop her coffin. It was the song he learned to waltz to. It was every melody Nate played in the background while he read late into the night.

Conjured by the very thought, Nate appeared in his peripheral view. Chances are he’d been there the whole time, and he knew the others were likely not far. They would, after all, follow wherever he led. 

If he wasn’t imagining, he knew Nate would feel the same way, and turned to him. His eyes were fixed on the same window. Maybe the music drew him here instead of his sense of loyalty. He isn’t wholly here either. Their eyes meet on the crescendo and Adam wonders where the notes are taking Nate and if he could join him there. 

Fumbling chords and rampant curses take the place of the entrancing melody. The spell is broken and Adam is left staring at the shameless grin on Nate’s lips. It’s not quite enough to shake the haunted feeling from his shoulders. The weight of his memories doesn’t feel as light as it had a moment ago. The good reasons he had for following the siren’s song are somewhere scattered on the asphalt around his feet.

For the first time in a long time, Adam thinks about prayer.

***

Nate stood with his usual graceful poise, the violin nestled beneath his chin as if it were an extension of his very being. His fingers, long and deft, poised lightly upon the strings, radiating a sense of familiarity and intimacy with the delicate wooden frame. The violin itself seemed to respond to his touch, the wood resonating with a knowing vibrancy.

As the bow made contact with the strings, a hushed magic filled the air. The initial stroke was soft, a tender caress that awakened the strings’ dormant melodies. The notes emerged with a sigh, a whisper that invited any listener to lean in, to partake in the secret world he was about to unveil. 

With each sweep of the bow, Nate’s body swayed ever so slightly, as if he were a conduit for the music itself. His eyes, closed in concentration, felt every nuance, every emotion encapsulated in the composition. The bow danced with precision, weaving a tapestry of sound that carried both sorrow and joy, melancholy and exuberance.

His expression was a reflection of the music he conjured–a myriad of emotions painted across his face. A furrowed brow during a crescendo of tension, a soft smile as the melody took a hopeful turn, and the subtle lift of an eyebrow during an unexpected flourish–every detail communicated a profound connection to the composition.

And as the music reached its zenith, his body seemed to become one with the melody. The final notes quivered in the air, hanging for a breathless moment before fading away. Nate lowered the bow, his chest rising and falling with the rhythm of the piece they had just re-birthed.

For a few suspended moments, the world remained wrapped in the echoes of the performance. Nate’s world had been marinating in this melody ever since it found him outside that apartment building. He played it over and over in his head in a desperate attempt to cling to its every note, to carve it into his subconscious and never let it go.

He hadn’t felt like flesh and blood like this in too long. The melody was every word he couldn’t think of to describe his home, his life. It felt more like him than he did on some days. 

Familiar. 

In that, maybe he remembered a part of himself that he had laid down once before and never bothered to go back and pick up. Maybe the artist from the window had found it instead.

Nate turned towards the new presence standing in the doorway. Adam changed the atmosphere like a storm; he didn’t need to see him to know he was there. He wanted to ask him what the song felt like to him. The weight of it had filled the space between them since that morning, comfortably connecting all the ends they couldn’t make meet before. Had he remembered it correctly? Did he do it justice? Was it theirs now?

He didn’t need to ask any of these things out loud. They have known each other too long for that.

***

In the heart of Wayhaven, a subtle shift began to stir the very air that had once held a sense of cozy familiarity. It was as if the town itself had taken a collective breath, and with that breath, an unseen transformation began to unfold.

The sun, once casting its golden glow with a gentle warmth, now seemed to hang lower in the sky, casting elongated shadows that stretched across the streets. The daylight held a slightly different hue, carrying a touch of melancholy as it filtered through the leaves of trees.

The townspeople, often seen bustling about with carefree smiles, now moved with a different cadence. Their footsteps seemed softer, more contemplative, as if attuned to an underlying shift that had settled over their surroundings. Conversations held a hint of hushed anticipation, as though they were sharing secrets with the town itself.

Buildings that had stood for generations seemed to hold their breath, their aging facades taking on new character in the changing light. Shadows crept along the brickwork, adding depth and mystery to familiar landmarks. 

The air itself carried a distinct crispness, a harbinger of the impending transition. 

Amidst this shift, there was a sense of introspection that seemed to settle over the town like a soft mist, especially for Jonah. He gazed upon familiar vistas with fresh eyes, finding beauty in the nuances he might have overlooked just two days ago. 

The atmosphere, once characterized by its lively rhythms, now held a more contemplative melody. It was a shift that acknowledged the passing of time, the cyclical nature of seasons, and the collective spirit of the ebb and flow of life. 

It wouldn’t leave Jonah alone. 

This new melody emerged from the ashes of every song he had ever written, ever listened to, and branded itself on his skin alongside every dragon keeping him company. He played it over and over, trying to capture the peculiar and haunting change that was happening around him, maybe just inside him. Something had changed. 

He pulls his father’s jacket tighter around his shoulders and wonders when he had made the decision to walk to work. It wasn’t the type of day he would typically do this. Wind whips the hair around his face and into his field of vision. But something in the air needed savoring. The end of the song was on the wind.

The station was on the horizon. The rising sun peaking over the tall trees highlighted its familiar lines. Something was going to happen there. Nervous and excited energy filled his stomach and fluttered through his chest with each step closer to the front door. Vehicles with out-of-state license plates filled parking spots that were usually left empty. 

The melody became louder in his head as he pushed through the front door. It spilled out through the low hum vibrating in his throat. He thinks it’s getting louder, but he’s hardly the one controlling it. Everyone in the front office goes unacknowledged for fear of losing the next note and the one after that. 

He’s still humming it, overjoyed at every second it doesn’t get lost in the ever shifting composition in his mind, when he pushes through the door to his office. Visitors he hadn’t been expecting stared back at him. The melody dies on his lips, but he sees it in the eyes of one and then another. An impossible understanding passes through the three of them and it’s gone in the next moment. 

The new sun and moon who have pulled the atmosphere of Wayhaven into this new reality are standing in Jonah’s office. The previous celestial bodies never stood a chance, surrendering the natural cadence of the town instantaneously. Jonah knew with absolute certainty that things were never going to go back to the way they were.