#it's for Swift Seas And Whirlwinds

[thetruearchmagos]

Nothing like sitting down to write a worldbuilding article, only to realise just how massive the scope of it actually is. Holy crap, I am slightly terrified by what I've created.

[verstappenverse]

From P17 to You

Requested by anon: “Could you maybe write something about the win in Brazil?? I'd love to se something like friend to lovers, maybe even Max confessing he's got feelings for her 🥰”

Pairing: Max Verstappen x Reader

Summary: After a legendary drive through the rain in Brazil Max realises that some things are worth risking, and this time he’s ready to risk it all.

Author’s note: Been working to get this out before Vegas so hopefully you're all still riding that Brazil high! Hope you enjoy anon 🫶🏼

1.9k words / Masterlist

The thunderous roar of the crowd echoed around the paddock, the energy still electric. You could barely keep up with Max as he wove through the sea of people, his hair damp, sticking to his forehead, his fireproofs and suit clinging to him like a second skin. He looked invincible—untouchable, even. The entire race had been nothing short of miraculous, the kind of drive that people would tell stories about for years. No one could quite believe what had just unfolded at Interlagos.

It was a win that would go down in history as one of the most legendary drives Formula 1 had ever seen. Starting from P17 and managing a breathtaking, near-miraculous climb to P1 in rain that hadn’t let up once, silencing every critic in one afternoon. Max had won against all odds, and not just won—he had dominated.

You’d been there, every lap, every heart-stopping turn, watching from the pit wall with your fingers practically digging into the table. When he finally crossed the line, pulling a lead that had almost made you laugh in disbelief the paddock erupted. And so did you.

Max Verstappen was a force to be reckoned with. You’d known him long enough to see that. From his early days in karting, to the whirlwind of his rise through Formula 1, and through it all the two of you had been inseparable. You were more than just friends - you were each others constant in a world that never stayed still.

The roar of the crowd still echoed in your ears inside the motorhome. The team was in a frenzy of celebration, and you couldn’t wait to congratulate him. Finally, the doors swung open and Max appeared, drenched in champagne his eyes lighting up in that way that always seemed to make everything else fade into the background. He looked wild and alive, hair still wet and tousled, his suit clinging to him, adrenaline still pumping through him like an uncontained storm. His eyes caught yours almost instantly, softening from the adrenaline-fueled excitement to something more private, a kind of warmth he reserved just for you.

“There you are,” he said, his voice hoarse from exertion, he was laughing as he wiped his face. “Did you see that?” he asked, as if you might have somehow missed his generational drive.

“Max,” you said, breathless. “That was insane. You were incredible out there. I—I don’t even know what to say.”

He grinned, the same boyish grin you always loved. “I was just doing what I do best,” he teased.

In one swift movement, he pulled you into a tight hug. You could feel the dampness of his suit against your skin, but that wasn’t what made you shiver. You could feel his heartbeat thundering through his chest as he held you close, his hand lingering on the small of your back, and when he pulled back there was something in his eyes, a kind of restless energy that had you rooted to the spot.

You shove at his shoulder, “You’re unbelievable, Max. Do you have any idea how many heart attacks you gave me?”

He chuckled softly, shaking his head. “What can I say? I don’t like to lose.”

There's an energy between you that you can’t quite shake off, a tension that’s lingered for months, maybe longer. The air feels thick between you, and your heart races as you search for something, anything, to say that will defuse this tension. Before you can one of the Red Bull crew sweeps him up again, pulling him back towards the crowd.

You spend the next hour caught up in the celebration, in the noise, the laughter, the congratulations that echo around the garage. The afterparty spills over into one of the hotels, with everyone recounting Max's drive from their own perspectives. The energy is high, and the drinks are flowing freely. Max, for his part, looks like he’s on top of the world surrounded by friends, his smile relaxed, his energy magnetic.

But you can’t help but notice the way his gaze keeps flicking back to you, even as he laughs and talks with everyone else. Each time your eyes meet, there’s that pull, that spark that’s been simmering for what feels like forever.

Eventually he finds you, catching you by the arm and tugging you into a quieter corner of the party. The background noise dims and it’s just the two of you sitting together in the soft, golden glow of the dim light.

“Enjoying yourself?” you ask, a grin teasing at your lips as you tilt your head to look at him.

Max chuckles, his eyes crinkling in that familiar way you’ve always loved. “Trying too. My adrenaline’s still through the roof.”

“You deserve it,” you say, and there’s no teasing in your tone this time—just sincerity.

He glances at you, his grin softening. “It’s been a crazy day…but it’s not just about the win you know?”

You raise an eyebrow, caught off guard by the shift in his voice. “What do you mean?”

Max shrugs, his gaze dropping to the floor for a moment before he looks back at you. “I guess… I had something to prove today. To everyone. To myself.”

“Max…” You paused, unsure of where to go with that. “Today wasn’t about proving anything to anyone. You’ve already done that.”

“Yeah, maybe…but I- ” His voice was lower now, more serious, his gaze locked onto you. “I had to prove it to myself. And—” He hesitated, the corners of his mouth twitching as if he were deciding how much to say. “And maybe to you, too.”

The intensity of his gaze made your heart pound as if you were the one who’d just raced through that rain-soaked track.

“Max, you don’t have to prove anything to me. I hope you know that." Your voice came out softer than you intended. “You mean more to me than you probably realise.” The words slipped out before you could stop them, and your heart twisted with vulnerability. “You’ve always been completely yourself, Max. That’s what makes you… you. That’s why people love you. Why I—why I’m so proud of you.”

He looked at you for a long moment, as if really trying to understand what you’d said. And then he took a deep breath, reaching out to brush his fingers against yours, tentative at first.

“You have no idea what it meant to me to see you there today. To know you were watching. That you’re always watching.”

“Of course, I’m always watching,” you say, swallowing hard. “You’re a lot more than just a driver Max. You’re… you’re my best friend.”

A flicker of something crossed his face, something you couldn’t quite read. “Best friend,” he echoed softly, as if tasting the words, considering them. There was a faint, bittersweet curve to his lips.

The quiet stretched between you, heavy with unsaid words. You were about to laugh it off, make a joke, say anything to fill the silence, but then he spoke again.

“I’ve never really thanked you for that. For everything.”

You shook your head. “You don’t have to thank me. You know I’d do anything for you.”

Max’s lips curled into a half-smile. “Maybe. But sometimes…” His voice faltered, and he took a deep breath before continuing, “Sometimes I think I should have said something earlier. Said thank you in a way that actually meant something.”

You looked at him, your eyes meeting his. “What do you mean?”

His hand moved to your waist, his touch now bold, yet gentle. “I think I’m saying this all wrong.” He let out a small, nervous laugh, his thumb brushing the sliver of exposed skin at your waist. “I’ve been thinking about it all day. You know, after the race. And I couldn’t focus on anything else. Just you.”

He looked down at you. “I didn’t want to tell you before because I thought it might mess things up. But… I’m done waiting.” he said, his voice lower. “I’ve tried to say it a hundred times, but every time, I just… I couldn’t.”

“Max, are you—”

“Yeah,” he interrupts, his gaze intense. “I am. I’ve wanted to tell you for so long, but every time I thought I might, I… well, I was scared I’d lose you if it didn’t work out. But today, I thought if I can pull off something I thought was impossible, then maybe…maybe, I can tell you how I feel too.”

Max let out a low, almost frustrated laugh. “I think about you all the time, This—us. I’ve never felt like this with anyone else. It’s always been you. I know we’re friends, best friends, and I never wanted to ruin that. But I… I think about you all the time. I can’t help it. And today made me realise that I don’t want to keep waiting. You’re worth taking the risk. I want more. I want everything…with you.”

The world seems to tilt. You’re left speechless, his words tumbling over you, breaking down every carefully built defence you’ve put up. And it feels terrifying, this openness, this risk, but it feels exhilarating too, like stepping off a cliff and hoping someone will be there to catch you.

So you take a deep breath, steadying yourself as you reach for his hand. “Max… you have no idea how long I’ve wanted to hear you say that,” you admitted, your voice raw.

He lets out a slow breath, his expression shifting to one of pure relief, a grin spreading across his face. “So we’ve been two idiots, both waiting for the other to say something?”

You laugh, and it feels freeing, like a weight lifting off your shoulders. “Yeah, two idiots. But now we’re here so… what are we going to do about it?”

Max’s smirks, his thumb brushing lightly over your cheek. His lips brush against yours, soft and tentative, as if he is giving you one last chance to pull away. But you don't. Instead you lean into him, pouring every unspoken feeling, every hidden moment of longing into the kiss.

His hands are on you in an instant, gripping your waist, pulling you closer as his lips move against yours with an urgency that makes your head spin. Soft yet insistent, his hands framing your face. The kiss is slow and desperate, holding you like he can't bear to let go.

When you finally break apart, breathless and aching for more, Max leans his forehead against yours, his hands still resting on your waist.

“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do that,” he mutters, his voice hoarse.

The space between you is still charged. “You’ve been waiting for me, huh?” you tease, your hand moving to rest on his chest,

Max’s gaze drops back to your lips, his chest rising and falling with each breath, “You have no idea.”

His hand slides up to your neck, pulling you in for another kiss. Your body feels like it's on fire as he kisses you harder

He pulls back again, just enough to look at you. “I can’t believe winning wasn’t even the best part of today,” he murmurs.

You laugh softly, running your fingers through his messy hair. “If you’re not careful Verstappen you’re going to make me fall in love with you.”

He smiles, that boyish, confident smile that always managed to knock the wind out of you. “Good. Because I’ve been in love with you for a long time.”

[lowkeychenle]

masterlist + all about me (and nct dream)

hi everyone! name change/rebrand alert ;)

prev @/lowkeyjaemle, now @/lowkeychenle :D

i'm juls (as some of you already know) and my ult group is NCT Dream! i'm chenle biased (this will never change lol) and the majority of my blog is also chenle biased lol.

i do not have a bias wrecker. chenle is safe (although jisung is my #2, which just makes sense bc chenji is a package deal okay).

i'm 23 years old, and my pronouns are she/her. now that all this intro/boring stuff is out of the way, please keep reading for my updated masterlist ;)

p.s. if u are also a chenle stan, there are so many chenle fics here just for u

AY YO! MDNI >:(

text!au masterlist | smau masterlist

labyrinth (M) fic teaser

Chenle was more complex than you originally gave him credit for, and unfortunately for you, that would be your downfall. Lost in the labyrinth, you’ll always struggle to find your way out when the rose-colored glasses don’t let the light shine through.

the hardest part (M)

You, Chenle, and Jay have been best friends since before you could even remember. After moving away to pursue your dreams, you don't talk to them as often as you should. One day, you get a call notifying you of Jay's passing. When you go back to your hometown, you find everything is different except for one person--Chenle.

Some Things Can't Be Taught (M)

In which you are failing college physics, and your childhood best friend offers up one of his friends as your tutor—except, there’s a little something he wants to learn from you in exchange.

Guilty As Sin? (M)

Chenle is everything you want--everything you need. Somehow, the thought of him manages to pull you back in even after you were free. Messy kisses, late night trysts, and him tracing the word 'mine' on your thigh--barely anything, so how could you possibly be guilty as sin? (based on Guilty As Sin? by Taylor Swift)

And Then It Was (M)

After your marriage with Chenle was arranged by your parents for a company merger, things with him aren't quite like you expect. In your life full of obligations, he's determined to finally give you the ability to make your own choices. (smut/fluff/angst) *WC>10k

Cruel Summer (M)

He wants you. Everything to do with you--your heart, your body, all while keeping your friendship. What's a man to do during a 30-day hook up to get you to stay? (smut/fluff/angst) *WC>10k

See My Sea (M)

You never expected your lab partner to be the captain of the basketball team...or a decent human being, but you get proved wrong twice. Despite a rocky past of your own, you find yourself falling for him faster than you thought. Maybe, with his help, you can finally find your way home and see your sea. (smut/fluff/angst) *WC>10k

Like We Just Met (M)

Everything else about the day is completely normal when Chenle realizes he wants to marry you. It hits him like a tidal wave, and he's itching to tell you just how much he wants to love you forever. (smut/fluff) *WC>10k

SOS (M)

Road trips with Chenle are your favorite thing. Late at night, the two of you stop at a hotel, but it's not everything it seems to be. You barely have time to settle before you get a call to evacuate immediately. Beneath red neon flashing lights, you and Chenle have to try and escape the group of people hunting you down. (suspense/thriller/smut)

this is me trying (M)

Meeting Chenle was a fluke--a good one, at that, but you never expected things to escalate the way they did. But despite the whirlwind romance, you'd go back to December if you had the chance... (smut/fluff/angst) *WC>10k

Is It Over Now? (M) (Feat. Jisung)

Your relationship with Chenle is nothing but fight after fight. Amidst the toxicity, infidelity comes into play--except you're determined to one up him...but is it ever truly over? (angst/smut) *WC>10k

Within the Piano Keys (M)

For as long as you could remember, Chenle has been your neighbor and childhood best friend. That is, until one day he disappears without a word…or so you thought, since your mother hid all the letters he sent you. (smut/fluff/angst) *WC>10k

Paris (M)

Pure smut on a hotel room balcony in Paris! Woo. (smut)

Sunshine (M)

You're not usually able to wake up with Chenle due to his schedules, but on the days that you can, it's certainly worth it. (smut/fluff)

Quiet Down (M)

You and Chenle visit your parents, but he just can't help himself... (smut)

You're Not Sorry

You and Chenle broke up two weeks ago. The first time he calls you at 3am, you ignore it. Then he calls again. You answer, and you go to him knowing there's nothing he could do to fix what he's broken. (angst)

The Last Straw (M)

Chenle has been your best friend for as long as you can remember. Being in love with him isn't easy, until you find out he reciprocates those feelings (thanks to Cockblocker!Jaemin). (smut/fluff/angst)

Chilled Nights, Fogged Windows (M)

After being gone for weeks, the first thing Chenle wants to do is get ice cream with you. One thing leads to another, and suddenly, you're in the backseat (oooops). (smut)

In Your Dreams (M)

What started as innocent phone sex hotline stuff (if that can ever really be innocent?), you get an offer you just can't refuse...you just have to be a little sleep deprived ;) (Chenle as Freddy Kruger Halloween thing lol)

Irrevocably (M) Series Masterlist

You were friends with benefits with Chenle until he got a girlfriend...fast forward months later, and now they've broken up--leaving Chenle to come back to you, very much in need of a distraction. (angst/smut/fluff)

Opposites Attract [Poly!Jaemle AU] Series Masterlist

Your relationship with Jaemin started out simple--friends with benefits with zero complications...until there was one. That complication's name is Zhong Chenle, and after Jaemin agrees to expand your exclusivity deal to involve him, there's only one logical thing left to do... (smut)

모래성 (ONE) (TWO) (THREE)

You and Mark have had a friends with benefits relationship for almost a year now. He's in love with you, addicted to you, but you don't feel the same. You're his poison. (smut/angst)

Late Nights (M)

Mark's busy schedule only gives him time to come over late at night, but it's safe to say neither of you are complaining by the time you fall asleep. (fluff/smut)

Empire State of Mind (M) (Feat. Jisung)

Life with Jisung is almost perfect. He loves you, and you love him. But when you run into your ex, Mark Lee, you realize the one thing you've been missing all along is him. (smut/angst)

Lost & Wayward Mini-Masterlist

After the worst couple weeks of your life, you finally break down in the middle of an alleyway. Jaemin hears you and comes to comfort you, and little do you know, he's about to change your life--in more ways than one. (fluff/smut/angst)

[royal-wren]

Epithets of the Pleiades

Come swiftly, electric blue stars in the night with much light to give you serve as navigators Heralds of the Seasons, call for the time to sow as you rise in the sky Heralds of all Sailors, call for the times when sails fall with you

Sisters of the weeping Hyades, I know you in the clouds Goddesses of Storms, Of the Rain shedding drops for all crops Of Dark Clouds, Fierce Winds, Delighters in lightning with you, booming crashes, many intense flashes from above your white-hot light all-consuming, striking a fondness in many hearts

Givers of increase, hunting, and dancing Nymphai running with Mene who holds you close as most dear maternal family of most beloved Hermes all mortals sing of Taurus, under the name Dôdônides you fostered Dionysos through day and night, you rejoice in Earth, Sea, and Sky a part of all three realms under your many domains Daughters of the Okeanid Pleione (Aithrê) and Oak-Hero Atlas Titanides, keep your thoughts favorable to all that call on you just as I call on and honor you, most beloved, all-encompassing Stars

Pleiades or Pleiads: Daughters of Pleione/Ladies of Plenty Atlantides: Daughters of Atlas Atlagenes: Born of Atlas Peleiades: Doves Dôdônides: Of Dodona Mainades/Thyiads/Bakkhantes Kataigídes: Thunderstorms, Storms (in place of Stormy) Mountain Maids Phantoms of the Night Far-Wandering Ioplókamos: Violet-Haired/Violet-Tressed *Plôtô: Sailing *Haliai: Nymphs of the Sea *Aglaophônos: Splendid Sounding *Ligeia: Clear-toned *Anemospharagos: Echoing to the Wind *Nyktipolos: Night-Wandering *Angeloi: Messengers/Ones That Announce *Pheranthēs: Flower-Bringing *Earotrephēs: Flourishing in Spring *Pasithoê: All-swift *Mêlobosis: Feeder of Sheep *Kalyptô: Covered, Veiled, Hidden *Eudôrê: Good-Gifts *Phainô: Appear, Reveal, Shine *Iakhê: Shout, Cry of Joy *Polyteknos: Fruitful *Anemôtis: Of the Winds *Sôteirai: Saviors *Karpophoros: Bringer of Fruit *Aellôpos: Storm-Footed *Podarkê: Fleet-Footed *Kelainephés: Black With Clouds/Shrouded in Dark Clouds/Cloudwrapt *Podargê: Flashing-Footed *Brotophengēs: Giving Light to Mortals *Pyrōpos: Fiery-Eyed, Fiery (Lightning related) *Pyrietheira: With tresses of fire *Aella & Aellai: Storm-Winds, Whirlwinds *Hyetomantis: Prophet of Rain *Ombrokharēs: Delighting in Rain *Kymatolêgê: Wave-Stiller *Hydrias/Hydriades: Of the Waters *Mêliades: Of the Orchards or Flocks *Epimêlides: Protectors of Orchards or Flocks *Epimêliades: Protectors of Sheep *Orodemniades: Of the Mountains *Nymphai Oreskôoi: Living on Mountains *Nymphai Boukolai: Pastoral Nymphs *Partheniai: The Maidens

Everything marked with * are the epithets that are appropriate for their domains, realms of influence, and associations

[coldgoldlazarus]

Gathered friends, listen again to our legend: the Bionicle.

Long ago, in the time before time, three great spirits, the siblings Mata-Nui, Makuta and [], existed in harmony. Makuta was a being of change and rebirth; carring out an endless cycle of creation, destruction, and creation anew. Mata-Nui was a being of order and preservation; choosing his favorites of Makuta's creations to keep as they were, and allowing them to flourish and explore the world. The third, [][][][].

But one day, [][]; and so an argument erupted, a long-festering resentment within Makuta coming to light. He felt that Mata-Nui had claimed too much under the mantle of preservation, and left Makuta's new creations diminished and stunted for the lack of material with which to build. He was frustrated by percieved flaws in his older creations, and being denied the opportunity to take them back and perfect their designs. And he was envious, for how his thinking creations chose to honor Mata-Nui and [] above himself, while fearing both the destruction he wrought and the unknown and strange new creations that would follow.

Mata-Nui remained stubborn and unyielding, refusing to grant any concessions or seek compromise, and could not understand why the favor of their charges mattered so much to Makuta when they could not last nearly so long under his reign. Thinking the matter settled, he returned to his vigil.

Makuta, however, was not so easily dissuaded. Calling forth both sides of his power, he created something most terrible: a Virus. An infectious cancer that would endlessly create itself, and in so doing destroy everything else. With this, Makuta betrayed Mata-Nui, striking him down and casting him into a deep slumber. His terrible Virus was unleashed, free to spread throughout the world, and spread it did.

But hope was not lost... [][][][]. From this, seven heroes, the Toa, arrived to save the day. They were all as different as the elements they embodied, yet shared one destiny; to defeat Makuta, cure the land of the Virus, and reawaken Mata-Nui.

Pohatu was swift and erratic as sand, and scouted ahead to find the best path forward, flowing like fine grains through claws, an untouched and unstoppable whirlwind. Tahu was fierce and passionate as fire, and courageously blazed the way forward, burning back the encroaching danger. Onua was wise and strong as earth, finding the hidden source of the infection, and forcefully ripped it free. Together as Akamai, [they]he broke its heart and tore it apart, so the Virus lost its will to go on and propogate further.

Kopaka was cold and steadfast as ice, and froze off the remaining infection from causing further harm. Gali was pure and healing as water, and created a great flood to restore the beings and infected by the Virus to their former selves, while washing away the land that was too far gone to be saved. Lewa was capricious and clever as life itself, and made the sea bloom with flora to break down the remnants of the infection, and from it disseminate new life. Together as Wairuha, [they]she reclaimed what was lost, filling the scars with beauty and growth and hope anew.

Voriki was mysterious and transient as lightning, splitting light and shadow into equal halves and charting the forks of time, making preparations none understood for far-distant possibilities. Together with Akamai and Wairuha, they confronted Makuta. And together as Toa Nui, [they]It cast him into sleep as well, and sealed him away from the world forever more. It healed Mata-Nui, and when still he would not rise, It carried out his funeral rites and sealed him away as well.

The Toa had united to stop the infection, had carried out their duty in defeating Makuta, but still their destiny lay out of reach. And so [][][], gone until the time is right. But they left behind a final gift: Seven toa stones, bearing a portion of their grand power. If ever a new crisis should occur, the stones would choose seven worthy Matoran to become a new Toa team, ready to rise to the challenge.

And they have. From the mists of uncertain myth, to ancient legends, to great history and heroes, to today, they have. Four generations of Toa have come and gone, some ending in tragedy while others found triumph, but all united in duty, and all met their destiny head-on. And all heralded tumultuous times, times when Makuta's lasting influence is felt the most, when creation and destruction meet and change comes all too fast and much too harsh. All marked the end of an era and the start of a new one, and the necessary but cataclysmic pain that would come with that transition.

And now the Toa Stones have chosen once more, but this time is different. Eight Matoran instead of seven, and yet even that may not be enough. As the sun sets on the present era of peace and a great storm rises, it is clear that the coming change may be the most painful yet.

[thefugitivesaint]

Evelyn Paul (1883-1963), ''Myths & Legends of Babylonia & Assyria'' by Lewis Spence, 1916 "Mighty was he to look upon when he set forth for the combat. His great bow he bore upon his back ; he swung his massive club triumphantly. He set the lightning before him ; he filled his body with swiftness ; and he framed a great net to enclose the dragon of the sea. Then with a word he created terrible winds and tempests, whirlwinds, storms, seven in all, for the confounding of Tiawath. The hurricane was his weapon, and he rode in the chariot of destiny. His helm blazed with terror and awful was his aspect. The steeds which were yoked to his chariot rushed rapidly towards the abyss, their mouths frothing with venomous foam. Followed by all the good wishes of the gods, Merodach fared forth that day." .... "Merodach reproached Tiawath for her rebellion and ended by challenging her to combat. Like the dragons of all time, Tiawath appears to have been versed in magic and hurled the most potent incantations against her adversary. She cast many a spell. But Merodach, unawed by this, threw over her his great net, and caused an evil wind which he had sent on before him to blow on her, so that she might not close her mouth. The tempest rushed between her jaws and held them open ; it entered her body and racked her frame. Merodach swung his club on high, and with a mighty blow shattered her great flank and slew her. Down he cast her corpse and stood upon it ; then he cut out her evil heart. Finally he overthrew the host of monsters which had followed her, so that at length they trembled, turned, and fled in headlong rout. These also he caught in his net and " kept them in bondage." Source

[bbobpul]

solemn ceremony — yjh

PAIRING. yoon jeonghan x reader SUMMARY. y/n, who was in a six-year relationship with jeonghan, has been attending so many weddings of her friends because they are already at that age to settle down. she starts to feel the pressure because in those six years, not once did jeonghan ever hint about wanting to settle down with her. GENRE. angst W/C. 1.8k NOTE. i miss you jeonghan (⁠ﾉﾟ⁠0ﾟ⁠)⁠ﾉ⁠→ my other works

'it's okay to outgrow those who don't know how to love you,' says bianca sparacino, and this has been the driving concept of every aspect of my existence. it's what i've committed to all my life. i've navigated this world using the catching and releasing mentality. i've felt the pain of losing friends, the missed opportunities, and the irreversible loss of precious time. yet, in all my years, i could never bear the notion of losing you.

i know deep inside me that it wasn’t easy.. but i did it. i outgrew you.

five years ago…

so, there i was, amidst the whirlwind of vows and joyful dances, attending my fourth wedding of the year. you know how it goes—happy times, smiling faces, and love all around. but within that sea of celebration, there was always this lingering question, like a bittersweet voice tugging at my heartstrings: "when will it be your turn?" or "has jeonghan popped the question yet?" those inquiries had a way of leaving me lost in a haze of uncertainty, carrying the weight of unfulfilled desires.

jeonghan and i, we've been on this rollercoaster of love for six whole years. it all started when fate brought us together on a construction project. can you believe it? both of us are architects, drawn to each other by our shared passion. it was during that time, though, that i was going through something tough—a deep loss that weighed heavily on my soul.

in those moments of solitude, i longed for someone to share my victories, to lighten the load of my accomplishments. it's like i was missing a missing piece in the puzzle of life, you know? but then, like a beam of light piercing through the darkness, jeonghan came into my life.

at first, i thought he'd be like the others—a temporary presence who'd leave once the project was done, fading into the background like a distant memory. but boy, was i wrong. he stayed. he became that person i could share my successes with, the one i'd call up at the end of a tiring day, just to share a moment. can you imagine? someone who truly understood and embraced all that i was.

yet, amidst the laughter we shared and the whispered secrets we kept, there's this lingering realization that the world out there doesn't quite get it. people with their curious glances and probing questions, they can't fully grasp the depth of our connection. behind closed doors, doubts flicker like fragile candle flames, casting shadows on the very foundation of our love. the big question looms over us: will jeonghan be the one to take that leap, to bind our hearts in matrimony, or will our love forever remain a fleeting masterpiece, admired but never truly possessed?

as i witness another union of souls, this subtle sadness washes over me, like a gust of wind blowing through abandoned corridors. i try to find solace in the fact that even without the grand ceremony and vows, jeonghan has become an integral part of my journey—a rock of strength amidst all the uncertainties. but deep down, i can't help but wonder if our love story will forever be suspended in the realm of what-ifs, an unfinished symphony waiting for its final crescendo.

the first crack on the glass

“your mom kept asking me earlier..” i started

jeonghan turned his gaze away from me, his eyes devoid of curiosity. “about what?” he asked, his voice void of any tenderness.

“about us, and marriage.”

his lack of interest cut through me like a knife, piercing my heart with its cold indifference. “hmm, and what did you say?” he inquired, still refusing to meet my gaze.

“i couldn’t say anything, and then she just laughed it off.”

“why?” he asked, still not looking at me.

silence hung heavily between us, suffocating the room with its weight. i mustered a faint smile, desperately trying to find the right words to bridge the growing chasm. slowly, i reached out for his hand—the hand that had held mine during moments of overwhelming loneliness, the hand that had offered solace in the face of my turbulent emotions. at the same time, i tried to lock eyes with him, to seek solace in the same loving gaze that had always made me feel seen and cherished. but tonight, those hands slipped away as he abruptly stood up and made his way to the kitchen. and those eyes, the ones that once held so much love and adoration for me, now seemed to avoid my searching gaze.

a sharp pang pierced my chest, a bittersweet ache that defied reason. i knew deep down that my feelings were irrational, almost childlike, but the weight of our six years together suddenly flooded my senses. memories, both joyful and painful, surged through my mind, each one carrying a sting of sorrow. six years of shared dreams, laughter, and companionship now felt like distant echoes, fading into a sea of uncertainty.

in that moment, the realization washed over me like a crashing wave—i could no longer deny the unsettling truth that we were no longer on the same page. our paths, once so beautifully intertwined, now seemed to diverge, leaving me adrift in a sea of questions and unspoken longing.

but i still tried to speak.

"why?" i confronted him, the raw anguish in my voice unable to be contained any longer. "you know damn well why. we've spent six long years together, and not once have you hinted at wanting to marry me. two years ago, when you said you weren't ready, i respected your decision. but now, we're in our thirties, for god's sake! everyone around us is settling down, starting families, and here we are, stuck in this limbo. what's the problem now? is it because of your job? jeonghan, we work in the same place, we have the same damn schedule. so tell me, what the hell is the matter?"

an uncomfortable stillness settled upon them as the weight of my words hung heavy in the air, smothering the room and freezing our souls. the unspoken truth, full of uncertainty and unfulfilled expectations, left a wide hole between us, a canyon filled with shattered dreams and unspoken wants. we stood in that deafening silence, two souls entwined yet miles away, our hearts throbbing with the unspoken knowledge that perhaps our paths had diverged, and the future we had once imagined together now stood on the verge of irreparable split.

for the first time that night, jeonghan's gaze shifted towards me. his eyes, once filled with warmth and affection, now carried a haunting emptiness, devoid of any flicker of emotion. a feeble smile graced his lips, but it held an underlying sadness that tugged at my heartstrings. with each step he took, drawing nearer to me, i could sense the hesitance etching its way across his face.

"we will get there soon, i promise," he whispered, his voice laden with a profound melancholy. his words hung in the air, heavy with unspoken uncertainties. and then, with a trembling confession, he continued, "i... i love you, jo"

the weight of those three words engulfed the room, casting a shadow upon our fragile connection. it was as if the admission carried a burden, a burden that threatened to drown us in a sea of unanswered questions. in that fragile moment, it became painfully clear that our love, once vibrant and resolute, now teetered on the precipice of uncertainty. how could you claim to love someone if you couldn't even see the pain they felt, their subtle unraveling? my face was pale, but you refused to recognise the sickness that had engulfed both of us. the pain was intense, like an open wound, but you chose to ignore our mutual agony.

"you don't love me, han. you just want me here because i'm the only constant in your life besides your job. if you truly loved me, you would understand me as deeply as i understand you after these six long years. with you, jeonghan, my future remains uncertain. i yearn for stability, for the comfort of settling down. i won't compel you to embark on this journey with me, but remember, you cannot coerce me into staying either."

"i love you but you're losing me, han."

present time

thus, it was at that moment that i brought our six-year bond to an end, unveiling the cruel essence of existence—where we are destined to entangle ourselves only to untangle, time and again. i ended it way before the glass broke. we stumble upon unforeseen souls in this voyage, while losing the one we had envisioned eternally. however, let us not believe that life ceases to exist in those instances. it is, in fact, perfectly acceptable to outgrow those who are unaware of the art of loving you, even though, in this instance, he did love me. alas, his love fell short, incapable of constructing an everlasting sanctuary for me.

once again, i find myself standing at the threshold of yet another solemn ceremony—a retaking of vows by someone who holds a special place in my heart. for the past five years, i had forsaken numerous significant milestones in my own life, choosing instead to embark on a journey to greece, consumed by the demands of my career. yet, in this very moment, the individual who extended this invitation holds immeasurable value, surpassing any sentimental card that would reach their hands a mere week after the celebration.

as the minutes crawled by, we remained suspended in anticipation, longing for the commencement of the main event. in that restless moment, a familiar aura engulfed me as someone settled into the vacant seat beside me. to my amazement, it was the very person who had discovered me in the depths of my wanderings, the one who never coerced me out of my secluded refuge. instead, they held a torch aloft, fearlessly delving into the abyss to find me. it was the person with whom i had once woven dreams of everlasting togetherness. it was none other than yoon jeonghan.

"hey," he greeted me with a smile, "how are you?"

"good, life has been treating me very well these past few weeks, you?"

"yeah, you know, nothing has changed. my life is still all about work," he attempted to laugh, although the palpable tension lingered between us. everyone present at the event appeared preoccupied with their own affairs, yet i couldn't help but sense that many were well acquainted with our shared history. thankfully, they seemed content to focus on their own matters, respecting the boundaries of our past.

i observed how his gaze subtly gravitated towards my hand, resting on the table, particularly fixating on my ring finger.

"married?" he asked

"oh, no, no." i shook my head, "not yet."

[eksvaized]

Part Two Ghost / Reader [ Previous ︱Next ] AO3 ︱Wattpad taglist (if you want to be added - let me know!): @villainofmyownstory

As the first light of the day seeps into your room, the morning sun casts a warm glow on the tousled sheets of the bed where you lay, stubbornly refusing to start the day. Despite the fact that sleep had only overtaken you as dawn was breaking, you find yourself strangely alert, your mind far from restful. Your thoughts are in a state of tumultuous disorder, an overwhelming cacophony of different scenarios and emotions that relentlessly assault your mind.

The reality of Simon marrying your sister is a bitter pill to swallow. Each time you think of them together, an uncomfortable knot ties in your stomach. Adding another layer to the complex feelings you’re grappling with is the fact that Emily is carrying his child. The thought of them starting a family together brings confusing emotions to the surface, making the situation even more complicated. You wrestle with guilt, feeling like the worst sister in the world as you find yourself unable to decide which revelation is more difficult to bear: the pregnancy or marriage.

You know you shouldn’t be comparing the two things, but how can you not when it’s all you can think about. Last night, you agreed with Simon to move on, to leave the past in the past and avoid talking about it, and certainly not mention anything to Emily. Yet a stubborn part of you, a part that refuses to listen to reason, clings to the memory of the one night you spent with him, refusing to let it fade into oblivion yet.

As you drown deeper in the sea of your own thoughts, your quiet contemplation is suddenly shattered. The door swings open with such an assertive push that it causes your heart to flutter in surprise, making you jump a little and shift awkwardly as you quickly grab a nearby blanket and throw it over yourself. Emily, already dressed to the nines and wearing a grin that threatens to split her face, storms in.

Upon seeing that your eyes are wide open, she wastes no time. Without even pausing for a breath, she launches into an extensive list of tasks that must be completed today. It’s a barrage of information that has you scrambling to keep up, but it’s clear that Emily is in her element, thriving in the whirlwind of wedding preparations. And it all begins with accompanying her to the first fitting of her wedding dress.

“I had considered going before, you know, before you came, but I thought it would be much better if you came with me,” she explains, her voice filled with a blend of excitement and anxiety. As she talks, she absentmindedly fiddles with the dainty bracelet that adorns her wrist. Then, without warning, she pulls the blanket off of you in one swift motion, leaving you shivering slightly and rolling your eyes at her dramatics. “I know that I won’t be able to pick anything today,” she continues, her tone slightly more serious now, as she picks under her nails. “But still, I need your advice. Unlike Simon, I know you will tell me the truth if the dress makes me look fat or if…”

Emily continues to talk incessantly, showing no signs of stopping, or at least slowing down. And it feels as though her voice is drilling into your head, causing an unbearable pressure that keeps building up and up. It feels as though an invisible pressure is building up inside your skull, like a dormant volcano ready to erupt, as you struggle to keep up with the unrelenting flood of her conversation.

Your temples pulse with a relentless throb, each heartbeat amplifying the already unbearable tension. You try to alleviate the discomfort, applying pressure with your fingertips, kneading the tender spots on your forehead, but the pain persists. You want to remain polite, to preserve the calm and cordial atmosphere, yet the urgent need to temporarily escape Emily’s incessant talking becomes too overwhelming to ignore.

In a desperate bid for solace, you make a seemingly casual excuse that you need to take a shower, and finally, after enduring another five minutes of her chatter, Emily takes a hint and leaves you alone. But just before the door swings shut, sealing off the remnants of her voice, she tells you that Simon has already left. Fortunately, he left his car behind, too, saving the need to call a taxi later. A sigh of relief escapes your lips - that’s one less thing to worry about, you think. In your current state, you’re not entirely sure you would have been able to handle the combined force of both their presences so early in the morning.

After having completed your morning routine, you find that Emily has already prepared a hearty breakfast. The tantalizing aroma wafts through the flat, making your mouth water as you walk to the kitchen. When you sit down to share the meal with Emily, however, she barely picks at food and only nibbles on a slice of apple a few times, murmuring something about not wanting to bloat like a balloon.

The drive to the boutique is a long one, but Emily takes it upon herself to fill the time with her endless babbling. You’re grateful when she fails to notice your silence, or if she does notice, she doesn’t comment. Either way, she seems content with the occasional nod of your head and the smiles you offer her each time she throws a glance in your direction.

You were already aware of Emily’s meticulous nature. But the dress fitting session, which you initially thought would be a straightforward process, turned out to be a test of endurance, significantly more tedious than you had anticipated. Even Emily’s indifference towards the price tags on the lavish dresses did nothing to hasten the process. On the contrary, it seemed to bestow her with boundless freedom to mull over every option, focusing even on the smallest, most irrelevant details.

“Thoughts on this one? Hmm?” Emily asks with a gleam in her eyes. She takes a step back and then twirls around twice, ensuring you get a good look at the gown.

The dress she’s currently wearing is intricately lacy, adorned with a subtle hint of sparkle that catches the light just right. It is undeniably beautiful, a piece of art in its own right, but as stunning as it is, it doesn’t feel like Emily—you can’t image her walking down the aisle wearing it. So, you shake your head gently in disapproval and reach out for the flute of complimentary champagne that the boutique has offered. As Emily turns back towards the mirror, you take a generous sip, the bubbly liquid offering a brief distraction.

“What I’m looking for, well, what I need... no, what I want, is something a bit more form-fitting,” she declares, a spark of resolve lighting up her eyes. “I want something tighter to show off my figure—I don’t spend all those boring hours in the gym just to be hidden under so much fabric,” she says with a determined nod. Her hand reaches out, fingers brushing lightly over the material of the gown, the soft rustle of fabric filling the silence of the changing room as she ruffles it.

Caught off guard by her unexpected statement, you feel your eyebrows involuntarily arch in surprise. The thought of a tighter, more revealing dress seems far from ideal, particularly considering Emily’s current condition. She is, after all, pregnant. You part your lips, ready to express your concerns and reservations, only to clamp them shut at the last moment. A fleeting memory flashes across your mind - your promise to Simon not to reveal that he had confided in you about Emily.

“But I don’t think a tight gown would suit you,” you gently counter, attempting to steer her away from her decision without divulging the real reason for your objection. “And… and if you wear a ball gown—not this one, of course—a tiara would look so lovely on you.”

You hastily backtrack your previous disapproval, eager to nudge her in a more suitable direction. You’re fully aware that if she were to choose a form-fitting dress now, her growing belly would eventually become apparent, necessitating adjustments to the garment. This would no doubt stress Emily out, and you wish to spare her that needless worry, and spare your own sanity along the way, too.

“No, I want a tight… sultry gown. Maybe with a low back cut. I could get a nice tan,” she insists, and you can’t help but roll your eyes at her stubbornness. This doesn’t go by unnoticed by her sharp gaze. “What?” She questions, but you shake your head again, not wanting to get into an argument. Especially not here, not when you know that the assistant is undoubtedly lurking somewhere in the back, probably eavesdropping on this conversation. “Spit it out, Y/N.”

Taking a deep breath, you bite the inside of your cheek and slowly stand up. “I need to step out. My head is spinning a little.”

“No,” Emily’s voice rings out clearly as she takes hold of your wrist, forcing you to stop in your tracks just as you’re trying to slip past her. “Tell me,” she says, her tone demanding yet laced with a hint of desperation. “You promised you’d come here today to help me pick out my dream dress. And yet, up until this very moment, you’ve barely lifted a finger. You’ve stood by, silent and brooding, as I’ve tried on dress after dress.” Her voice grows quiet, but she continues, “And… and the moment I finally settle on a dress, one that, mind you, you haven’t even seen yet, you suddenly refuse to share with me the reasons why you disapprove of it.”

You look at your sister, and fuck, you know you should keep your mouth shut, but the champagne—exactly two and a half glasses, if you’re being precise—loosens your tongue, prompting you to speak blindly. Without pausing to think about the promise, you are about to break.

“In a month, you might not fit into this ‘dream dress’ of yours anymore. A ball gown, on the other hand, allows for more adjustments,” you blurt out the words, your speech rapid and almost frantic, as if you’re trying to get them out before you lose your nerve, or before you change your mind. “And don’t get me wrong, Em,” you quickly add, eager to prevent any possible misunderstandings. “You’d look absolutely stunning in any dress you choose. Truly, you would.” You pause, taking a moment to breathe in. “I just want to save you from any unnecessary stress and headaches down the line.” Your voice softens, and you hope that your words, however blunt, are received with the care and concern you intended.

A silence ensues, the air growing thick with tension. Emily’s gaze, previously soft, sharpens like a hawk’s, her eyes narrowing into thin slits as she slowly unwraps her fingers from your wrist. You brace yourself for the storm you’re sure is coming. But then, to your utter surprise, Emily’s face relaxes into a fit of giggles, the tension dissipating as quickly as it came. She glances around furtively, as if she’s ensuring that the two of you are truly alone, before leaning in closer. Her voice drops to a whisper. “I’m not pregnant,” she says, a hint of laughter still lingering in her tone. “Not yet, at least.”

“What? But Simon—“ you start, but Emily swiftly cuts you off.

“I told Simon I am,” she continues, rolling her eyes with a hint of amusement, obviously enjoying the baffled expression on your face. “I knew he needed a bit of a nudge to pop the question, and that seemed to do the trick. And really, it’s not such a terrible lie, you know? After all, we are getting married, and we do plan to start a family either way. So, it’s only a matter of time before I do end up knocked up.”

You feel as if you’ve been thrust into the thick of a fever dream. The words cascading from Emily’s mouth are a jumbled mess, a puzzle that you can’t seem to piece together. None of this is making any sense. You’re at a complete loss for how to respond, how to react, so you voice the one thought, the one sentiment that is spinning around and around in your mind like a broken record, “This is wrong.”

“Don’t—don’t start,” Emily interjects, rolling her eyes in a habitual, dismissive motion that grates on your nerves more than you care to admit. Her bright smile dissolves into a thin line. “You may wish to stay all your life alone, so focused on your career that you can’t see past it, can’t see anything beyond it, but… but I’m not you. I know what I want and I know what I need to do to get it.”

“This isn’t about you and me,” you say, taking a step back and raising your voice a notch. “It’s about you being dishonest with Simon. Do you really believe that this is the way to start a marriage?”

“Well, you wouldn’t know, would you?” Emily’s words sting like a slap to the face.

A surge of emotion swells within you, a cocktail of confusion and indignation. You can’t comprehend why you’re reacting so strongly, getting so defensive over Simon, because in some twisted, complex way, you can understand how Emily’s plans might seem perfectly logical to her.

“Either way,” Emily begins, her words flowing with an edge of steel, “Since you could not keep your promise to Simon about maintaining your silence, I would appreciate if you could at least extend that courtesy to me. Do not breathe a word of this conversation to him. Consider it a wedding gift to me.”

Emily’s statement hangs in the air, a palpable tension that lingers even as her attention shifts back to the mirror. But then her mood changes as quickly as a summer storm, dissipating into thin air as she resumes her critique of the wedding dresses, particularly the one she’s wearing, which she deems truly horrid.

The changing room begins to feel claustrophobic, as if the white, bright walls are slowly inching closer and closer, threatening to suffocate you. You can’t help but feel trapped. Seeing an opportunity, you slip out, unnoticed, when you realise Emily is lost again in her own world again.

As you step outside, the warm air kisses your face. It’s a welcome relief from the stifling atmosphere of the changing room. Almost without thought, your hands start rummaging through your pockets. A string of harsh and bitter curses slips from your lips as the realization hits you like a freight train - you left your cigarettes at home. You recall tucking them back into your suitcase, naively reassuring yourself, ‘it’s not like you are going to need them, right? Wrong.

“What are you doing out here?” Simon says, making you jump. You hadn’t noticed him before, his tall frame casually leaning against the nearby stone wall. “Shouldn’t be inside? Helping Emily?”

“And shouldn’t you be somewhere else, not here?” You shoot back, unable to completely suppress the simmering frustration that’s been building up within you, and perhaps a hint of anger that’s begun to creep into your voice.

Caught off guard by your tone, Simon’s eyebrows knit together, the playful spark in his eyes replaced by genuine concern. “Is something wrong?”

Annoyed, you retort sharply, “Why do you keep asking so much questions?” Realizing that your response came out harsher than intended, you take a deep breath before sighing, feeling the tension drain away a little as you add, “Sorry. I guess I just had a little too much champagne, and now my head is throbbing.”

“Really? Is that all?” Simon strides forward like a predator closing in on its prey. His piercing eyes study your face closely as he tilts his head slightly.

In that fleeting moment, a realization hits you like a bolt from the blue - you could reveal the truth, expose Emily’s lie. It would be the right thing to do. Yet, as this understanding seeps into your consciousness, another deeper, more profound realization dawns upon you. Your motivations for wanting to reveal the truth are not as noble, not as virtuous as they seem; they stem from a complex web of feelings and reasons you’re not willing, or perhaps not ready, to admit to yourself. And so, you just simply nod your head. “Really,” you say, managing to conjure up a small smile that fails to reach your eyes. “Just too much free champagne.”

Simon continues to look at you with an intensity that is hard to describe, his gaze seemingly piercing your very soul; his deep, dark eyes remain steadfastly locked with yours, trapping you in a captivating stare that you find impossible to break free from. There is something about him, something indescribable and yet intriguing, that keeps you rooted on the spot, as if his presence alone commands your full attention. The world around you fades. It feels as though your feet have been glued to the concrete beneath you, making it impossible for you to walk away even if you wanted to.

Your trance is broken only when he starts speaking, jolting you back to reality.

“Well—” Simon says, his tongue flicking out to moisten his bottom lip, drawing your attention in an almost magnetic manner. “Since I’ve managed to wrap up my plans for the day earlier than expected, I think I’ll stick around for a while and wait for the two of you.” He glances at the bustling traffic before adding, “Not in the mood to take a bus home.”

Your head bobs in response. Deep down, as much as you don’t want to leave him, as much as the thought of returning to Emily sends a wave of dread through your veins, you know you don’t have much of a choice. So, after another long, lingering pause, you turn on your heels and reluctantly walk back inside.

Emily takes her sweet time, spending another two hours shuffling through the racks, trying on a seemingly endless array of dresses, changing from one to another, then even slipping back into the very same gown she had already worn and dismissed earlier. It’s not until she’s exhausted every conceivable option that she finally, albeit reluctantly, decides to call it a day. You can’t help but wonder if your subtle backhanded comments and lousy compliments had something to do with her decision to wrap it up. You couldn’t care less, though. Not right now, at least.

The ride home is wrought with tension and awkward silences. You try your best to avoid looking at Simon and Emily. Especially when he leans over to peck her cheek affectionately, or when he casually squeezes her thigh after shifting gears. You also try to tune out their conversation, focusing instead on the scenery outside the window. However, your attempts at sulking in peace are cut short.

“That’s lovely, isn’t it, Y/N?” Emily’s voice breaks through your thoughts. She swivels around in her seat to face you. “I’ve heard so much about Johnny, but never had the chance to meet him. But now that you’re here, and considering Simon is in need of a best man — since I’ve already chosen my maid of honor,” Emily offers you a smile. “—it seems like the perfect opportunity for us to go out to dinner together.”

With a concerted effort, you summon up the last remnants of your energy, forcing a smile onto your face. However, the moment your gaze locks with Simon’s through the rearview mirror, your mask of contentment slips. Your facade crumbles like a house of cards in a gust of wind, and the corners of your lips fall. “Do I really have to go?” you ask, the tone of your voice echoing the reluctance of a young child being coaxed by their parents into attending an event they have no interest in.

The question hangs in the air, heavy with your apprehension. The truth is, you’re unsure if you’re capable of enduring an entire evening pretending to be alright, acting as if your mind isn’t a tumultuous whirlwind of chaos. The thought of having to plaster on a smile, engage in small talk, and act as if everything is fine is daunting, to say the least. The simpler, and arguably more appealing, course of action would be to stay at home, hidden away in your room under the pretense of a mid-summer cold or perhaps even a champagne-induced hangover.

Emily, seemingly oblivious to your evident discomfort, dismisses your pleas with a wave of her hand that causes her bracelet to jingle. “Don’t be silly, of course you must,” she insists. Her head pivots towards Simon, seeking his support in this matter. However, he doesn’t rise to the opportunity, his gaze refusing to meet hers. “You and Johnny are to walk together down the aisle, and I need to be certain that you two will look good together. If not—” Her gaze flickers to Simon once more. “I’m afraid Simon will be forced to find a different best man.”

Emily’s statement was likely meant to be taken lightly, a lame attempt at a joke, intended to lighten the mood, but you pounce on it like a predator, using it as a chance to challenge her. “Shouldn’t it be Simon’s choice, who he wants as his best man?” you say, injecting an edge into your voice, letting Emily know that the conversation about her lie hasn’t slipped your mind yet.

Simon is acutely aware of the rising tension within the car. He observes as you and Emily exchange heated glares, the hostility between you palpable. Despite being caught in the crossfire, he chooses to remain quiet, and only breaks his silence when Emily, her eyes still glued to you, begins to open her mouth.

“Don’t worry, love,” he assures her, his voice soothing; his words directed at Emily, but his gaze never leaving your face. He curls his palm around her thigh, giving it a light squeeze before his hand returns to the wheel. “Johnny is handsome, and he and Y/N will certainly look splendid together.”

[galaxysupreme17]

The Eras Tour

Emily Prentiss X Olivia Benson x Daughter!Reader!

It was a crisp autumn afternoon when Emily Prentiss and Olivia Benson decided to surprise their daughter Y/n with a special gift. Y/n had just finished her classes at the local high school and was relaxing at home, flipping through a magazine in the living room. Emily and Olivia exchanged knowing smiles as they approached her.

"Hey, sweetheart," Emily began, her voice tinged with excitement. "We have something for you."

Y/n looked up, curiosity sparking in her eyes. "Oh? What is it?" she asked, setting aside the magazine.

Olivia handed her an envelope with a playful grin. "Open it and find out."

Y/n's heart raced as she opened the envelope, finding three tickets inside. Her eyes widened with disbelief as she read the words printed on them: Taylor Swift's Eras tour.

"Oh my god," Y/n gasped, her hands trembling with excitement. "Are these...?"

Emily nodded with a grin. "Surprise! We thought you'd enjoy a night out at the concert."

Y/n was speechless for a moment, overwhelmed by the gesture. "Thank you both so much! This is incredible!"

In the days leading up to the concert, Y/n's excitement bubbled over. As a senior in high school, this was a dream come true. She spent hours planning her outfit—a stylish homage to Taylor Swift's iconic looks. She settled on a Reputation tour shirt tucked into high-waisted jeans, a leather jacket, and ankle boots. Emily and Olivia joined the fun, coordinating their outfits to match Y/n's enthusiasm.

The anticipation built with each passing day. Y/n gushed about the concert with her friends at school, who shared her excitement. She counted the hours until the night of the concert, unable to contain her anticipation.

On the night of the concert, the atmosphere outside the venue buzzed with energy. Y/n, Emily, and Olivia joined the throngs of excited fans, the anticipation palpable in the air. Finding their seats amidst the sea of eager concert-goers, Y/n couldn't stop talking about her favorite Taylor Swift songs and the moments she hoped to experience during the show.

As the lights dimmed and Taylor Swift took the stage, Y/n's heart raced excitedly. She sang along to every song, her voice blending seamlessly with thousands of others in the audience. Emily and Olivia watched with pride, their hearts swelling at the sight of Y/n immersed in the music she loved.

During a poignant interlude, Taylor Swift surprised everyone by inviting a fan on stage to sing a duet with her. Though Y/n wasn't chosen, she cheered alongside Emily and Olivia, caught up in the infectious joy of the moment. The concert was a whirlwind of emotions and exhilaration, leaving Y/n breathless and overjoyed by the night's end.

After the concert, the ride home was filled with laughter and animated chatter. Y/n couldn't stop talking about her favorite moments—the electrifying performances, the heartfelt ballads, and the energy that filled the arena. Emily and Olivia listened with delight, their smiles mirroring Y/n's infectious enthusiasm.

"Tonight was unforgettable," Y/n said, her voice filled with gratitude as they pulled into the driveway.

Olivia squeezed Y/n's hand affectionately. "We're so glad we could share this experience with you, sweetheart. Seeing you so happy means everything to us."

Emily nodded in agreement, her eyes shimmering with pride. "You're our rockstar, Y/n. Tonight was magical because we were all together."

As they walked into their home, Y/n hugged Emily and Olivia tightly, overwhelmed with love for her mothers and their bond. It was more than just a concert—a night of music, laughter, and cherished memories, solidifying their close-knit family even more. The night ended with Y/n feeling grateful and blessed to have such supportive and loving parents, and they knew this was just one of many memorable moments they would share.

[nintendo-b1tch]

There isn’t enough Rauru Fanfics!! >:0

So here, have some angst! :D

Warnings: Grief, Loss, Major Character Death, Sleep Disorders, Anxiety, Depression, Violence, Stress, No Happy Ending

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

As he watched you run, a grin spread across his face, basking in the euphoria of this simple yet magical moment. Suddenly, you halted, turning towards him with a mischievous glimmer in your eyes. In a swift motion, you planted a gentle kiss on his cheek, causing his eyes to flutter open in surprise and admiration. The affectionate gesture sent waves of warmth pulsating through his entire being, solidifying his love for you.

However, reality didn't mirror this idyllic scene. He awoke to find himself lying alone in bed, the absence of your presence as overwhelming as a tidal wave crashing upon him. Instinctively, his arm reached out to the side, seeking the imprint that your body would leave on his mattress. His fingertips grazed the empty space, a cruel reminder of the hollowness within his soul. As his trembling hand fell back to the sheets, his sorrow gave birth to crystalline tears that gently tracked down his cheeks, mirroring the anguish that consumed him.

His mind became a torrent of memories, each fragment tragically reminding him of the void that was now his reality. The weight of regret pressed heavily upon him, crushing his spirit with its unforgiving grip. If only he had been more cautious, if only he had shielded you from the clutches of Ganon, perhaps you wouldn't have been subjected to such a tragic fate. The simple stone, a mere piece of jewelry that adorned your neck, had proved to be a fatal harbinger of doom. In his heart, he carried the burden of guilt, etching the words "it was his fault" into the very core of his being.

Every fleeting moment with you, every stolen kiss, now replayed in his mind like a bittersweet montage. The weight of your absence intensified with each passing second, seeping into the crevices of his soul. The overwhelming grief threatened to shatter him completely, leaving only broken fragments of a once vibrant love story. The realization that you were gone, forever out of his reach, pierced him with a searing pain that he couldn't escape.

As the tears continued to cascade down his sorrow-stricken face, his heartbreak became etched in every line and crease. He yearned for the warmth of your laughter, the touch of your hand, and the ethereal connection that only the two of you shared. The throbbing ache within him served as a constant reminder of the irreplaceable void you left behind.

In this sea of anguish, he found himself drowning in a whirlwind of regrets and what-ifs. If only he could turn back time, rewrite the course of history, and rewrite the tragic fate that had befallen you. He clung to the remnants of your love, desperately seeking solace in the hazy memories of your beautiful laughter and infectious spirit.

In the depths of his despair, he vowed to honor your legacy and never let your memory fade. The stone that had caused your untimely demise became a symbol of his eternal devotion, a poignant reminder of the battles he fought within himself. With each teardrop shed, he silently pledged to fight for a future where love prevailed over darkness, where your laughter could once again fill the air, enchanting his broken heart with remnants of a love that will never be forgotten.

The haunting events of that fateful day replayed over and over again in the deepest recesses of his mind, replaying like a broken record that he couldn't tune out. There seemed to be no escape from the gripping nightmares that relentlessly whispered devastating images of your lifeless figure sprawled mercilessly on the unforgiving ground. And there, standing ominously in the backdrop of this indelible memory, was Zelda, her presence casting an eerie shadow upon the scene.

It was as if the weight of his guilt had become an unwelcome companion, a heavy burden that refused to be shrugged off. Shoulders slumped under the immense pressure, he found himself enveloped in an overwhelming sea of remorse, unable to fathom how he could have prevented such a tragedy. Deep down, he knew that you, in your infinite kindness and understanding, would never have wanted him to shoulder this blame alone. But try as he might, it was a challenge to convince himself otherwise.

Every waking moment was haunted by the fragments of that incident, the vivid imprints etched forever in his psyche. From the smallest details of how the light had danced upon your face to the exact postures Zelda had assumed in those haunting seconds, his mind relentlessly recreated the scene vividly, unable to let go. It was as though time had stopped and he was trapped within a loop of remorse, forced to relive every heart-wrenching second indefinitely.

The constant replay of this torturous memory began to spill over into his daily life, causing ripples of distress and despair in even the most mundane tasks. The once vibrant hues of everyday existence seemed muted and dull, as his mind remained fixated on that singular, pivotal moment of tragedy. The world around him carried on, oblivious to the silent torment gnawing at his soul.

He yearned for closure, for a way to escape the clutches of this consuming guilt. Desperate attempts were made to rationalize the situation, to find some semblance of solace in understanding that sometimes, despite our best efforts, life takes a cruel detour. But the heavy weight persisted, pressing down upon him like an unrelenting force, unwilling to grant him respite.

You were the one who opened your heart to fall in love with a unique and unconventional being like him. While many Hylians would mock and ridicule him, you chose a different path, embracing his imperfections and vulnerabilities without judgment or scorn. Your unconditional acceptance and support transformed his life, becoming the guiding light that brightened even the darkest corners of his existence.

The unimaginable day when you were taken away from him stands as a haunting turning point, forever etched into his memory. The mere recollection brings back a flood of emotions, like a fierce tidal wave crashing against the shores of his soul. He can still vividly recall the moment he crumbled, his helpless sobs finding refuge in the comforting embrace of his older sister. The pain of losing you weighed heavy on his heart, threatening to crush his spirit.

The sheer disbelief at your departure overwhelmed him. It was as if the universe had played a cruel trick on him, snatching away his beacon of hope and leaving him stranded in a desolate void of emptiness. Coping with your absence proved to be an uphill battle, one that required him to confront his inner demons and face the reality of life without you. Alas, his inability to accept your departure led him down a treacherous path of detrimental habits and destructive behaviors.

Night after night, unbearable nightmares plagued his vulnerable psyche, mercilessly thrusting him into a realm of torment that he sought to escape. Sleep became his enemy, a treacherous portal that unleashed the haunting memories he desperately wished to evade. His sister, although well-intentioned, could not fathom the depth of his anguish and grief. It was in the dead of night that she awoke, startled by the piercing sound of his anguished scream, a haunting echo of his heartache and yearning for you.

This distressing episode served as a mere glimpse into the extent of his sorrow, a silent testament to his shattered soul. The magnitude of his pain was impossible to comprehend fully, confined within the confines of his mind and heart. Yet, the echoes of his anguish reverberated through the halls of his existence, a constant reminder of the void left by your absence.

When the panicked urgency surged through her veins, propelling her out of her own room and towards the source of the piercing scream, she was met with a sight that left her breathless. In the wake of her hasty arrival, her brother's once peaceful abode had morphed into a scene of havoc and destruction. The room, once a sanctuary, now lay in ruins, as if a tempest had swept through its very core.

However, it was not the shattered remnants of the decorative mirror that commanded her attention, but rather the sight of her brother standing amidst the chaos. Approaching him with measured caution, every step calculated, she couldn't help but notice the untamed state of his hair - an outward manifestation of the depths of his anger. Only on rare occasions did his normally composed demeanor give way to such uncontrollable fury.

As she drew closer, her acute hearing intercepted the soft murmurings emanating from him, the words casting a shiver down her spine. Shock and horror washed over her like a tidal wave as his disturbing declaration echoed in her ears, each repetitious utterance carrying with it mounting intensity. " I'll kill him " he seethed, the weight of those words hanging heavily in the air. The force behind his voice grew, matching the intensity of his emotions, as his clenched fist collided once more with the jagged fragments of the shattered mirror. Yet amidst the chaos, her gaze locked onto something unexpected — a glint of metal in his other hand.

With tears streaming down his face, his anguish was palpable. The sight of her brother, overcome by a maelstrom of emotions, filled her with a desperate sense of concern. In that moment, she glimpsed her most cherished possession, a necklace that held sentiment and memories intertwined, clutched tightly in his trembling grasp. The juxtaposition of his vulnerability and the presence of that treasured necklace left her questioning the events that had led them to this drastic point.

Each shattered piece of the mirror, every trembling word, and the necklace cradled in her brother's hand served as a mosaic of emotions and turmoil. In that poignant instant, she vowed to uncover the truth and bring solace to her brother's tormented soul, to navigate the labyrinth of their shattered reality with unwavering determination. She knew that the road ahead would be arduous, but her love for him was an unyielding beacon, guiding her through the darkest of storms.

" Rauru....this isn't your fault, you couldn't have seen this coming "

" YOU DO NOT UNDERSTAND, MINERU, I SHOULD HAVE SEEN THIS COMING!! HE IS RIGHT, I AM NO FIT TO BE A RULER IF I AM UNABLE TO PROTECT MY FAMILY!! MY SUNDELION!! My everything.... " His body collapsed into his sister's arms, a vulnerable surrender to the overwhelming grief consuming him. As his uncontrollable sobs reverberated throughout the room, it became evident that something crucial was missing in his life. Your absence had left an unfathomable void in his soul, a void that seemed insurmountable in its depth and magnitude.

The tormenting night had awoken him from a fitful slumber, startled by the vivid intrusion of a powerful memory. In his dream, a cherished recollection had materialized, reminding him of a remarkable moment that had forever altered the trajectory of his existence. Summoning unprecedented courage, he had mustered the audacity to ask you on a momentous date, a simple act that held profound significance for him.

The night had unfolded like a beautifully scripted romance, each moment etching itself into the fabric of his memory. And when the time came to bid adieu, he exuded both anticipation and trepidation. With trembling hands, he gently clasped a meticulously crafted necklace around your delicate neck—an exquisite piece painstakingly created by his own hands. It was a blooming Sundelion, a whimsical embodiment of your heart's desires, carefully selected because he knew it held a special place in your affections.

His heart swelled with an indescribable sense of pride and accomplishment upon completing the necklace. The delicate charm gleamed against your skin, its intricate details a testament to the love and dedication he had poured into its creation. As you gratefully expressed your admiration for the thoughtful gesture, his smile widened, deepening the bond that already connected the two of you.

Through this tangible symbol of their affection, he hoped to convey a multitude of emotions that seemed impossible to articulate in words alone. Each carefully crafted petal and intricate design was imbued with the love, adoration, and profound understanding he had for you. It was his humble attempt to epitomize the intricate beauty of your soul—a reflection of the vivid blossoms that bloomed within your essence.

In that moment, he knew that the necklace would be far more than a mere accessory. It would become a cherished talisman, a tangible embodiment of the depth of their connection and the endless possibilities that lay ahead. And so, as he collapsed into his sister's arms, his tears mingling with the memory of that cherished night, he held the necklace close to his heart, finding solace in the reminder of the love he had once shared with you.

You were a truly extraordinary individual who possessed a remarkable ability to brighten people's lives. Your infectious personality and genuine care for others meant that you always went above and beyond to ensure that everyone around you wore a genuine smile. It was absolutely heartwarming to witness how effortlessly and selflessly you made it your mission to uplift those who were feeling downhearted.

In your presence, even the most sorrowful souls would find solace and comfort as you ceaselessly worked to turn their frowns upside down. Your unwavering dedication to spreading happiness and joy was truly awe-inspiring. You had an innate talent for understanding the needs and emotions of others, which enabled you to provide them with the support and encouragement they required during their difficult moments.

Your magnetic charm and charisma attracted people from all walks of life, and it was a testament to your exceptional character. Your mere presence had the power to create an atmosphere of warmth and positivity that enchanted everyone around you. You effortlessly formed deep connections and friendships, leaving an indelible impression on everyone who had the privilege of encountering your radiant spirit.

However, when fate took you away from the realm, an irrevocable darkness descended upon the once vibrant kingdom. The news of your untimely departure spread like wildfire, and the kingdom was plunged into an overwhelming state of deep sorrow and mourning. It was as if a brilliant light had been snuffed out, leaving behind a void that seemed impossible to fill. As word of your loss reached far and wide, communities near and far grieved the loss of a remarkable soul whose impact had reverberated throughout the land.

The kingdom mourned not only for the loss of an extraordinary individual who had enriched the lives of so many, but also for the void created by your absence. The absence of your vivacious spirit and contagious laughter left an insurmountable emptiness that permeated every corner of the kingdom. The memory of your selflessness, compassion, and unwavering commitment to spreading happiness was etched in the hearts of every citizen, forever reminding them of the profound impact you made during your time amongst them.

The grief that pervaded the kingdom served as a testament to your extraordinary influence and the indomitable mark you left on the hearts and souls of the people. It became increasingly evident that your absence was not just a personal loss, but a collective tragedy that weighed heavily upon the entire community. The kingdom yearned for the return of the joy and unity that had once flourished under your guiding light.

Though the kingdom continued to mourn, your legacy lived on, as the lessons you imparted and the countless smiles you had brought continued to inspire and motivate. The memories of your kindness, generosity, and immense capacity to bring happiness to others lingered, reinforcing the importance of compassion and empathy within the hearts of those who remained.

In conclusion, your unparalleled ability to bring a smile to everyone's face, even in the darkest of times, was a gift that touched the lives of countless individuals. Your magnetic presence and unwavering commitment to spreading joy made you the guiding light of the kingdom, and your departure left behind an irreplaceable void that was mourned by all. Your legacy of kindness and selflessness continues to resonate within the hearts of those who were fortunate enough to cross paths with you, ensuring that your memory is forever cherished and celebrated.

Every single day, without fail, he would find himself in the same predicament: unable to sleep, tormented by the memories of their time together. Each night seemed to bring forth a different recollection, replaying like a broken record in his mind. It was as if the universe had conspired to snatch away his beloved far too soon, leaving him to grapple with an unfair and unfathomable reality.

The emotions that churned within him were overwhelming, and he couldn't help but feel a growing disgust in the depths of his chest. The sight of couples indulging in displays of affection felt like a personal affront, a cruel reminder of what he had lost. It was almost as if they were purposefully rubbing their happiness in his face, taunting him with the fact that he could no longer share such moments with you.

These thoughts, invasive and unrelenting, plagued his mind relentlessly. They consumed him to such an extent that he found solace only within the confines of his own room. It became a sanctuary of sorts, a shelter from the onslaught of memories and emotions that threatened to engulf him. Within those four walls, he sought refuge from the tumultuous waves crashing against the shores of his weary soul.

And so, he would retreat into isolation, withdrawing from the world outside that seemed so devoid of the warmth and joy he once knew. The confinement of his room became a physical representation of the emotional isolation he felt, a space where he could attempt to make sense of the incomprehensible loss that had shattered his world.

In this chamber of solitude, he would dwell upon the fragments of memories scattered across the vast expanse of his mind. Each moment of tenderness, each laugh shared, and every touch exchanged would be painstakingly dissected and analyzed. For within those memories lay the essence of what had been lost, the intangible connection that was now severed.

As he grappled with the unbearable weight of his grief, he longed for an answer to the inevitable question: why? Why were others allowed to bask in the glow of happiness while he was left to navigate the darkness alone? The answer remained elusive, buried within the complexities of fate and the unpredictability of life.

And so, night after night, he would find himself trapped in this ceaseless cycle of longing, yearning for an escape from the clutches of his sorrow. Each sleepless night was a stark reminder of the love that had been snatched away, and the pain that persisted. And within the walls of his room, he would continue to search for solace, hoping that one day, the memories would bring not only pain, but also a bittersweet sense of peace.

Rauru found solace in immersing himself in his royal duties, seeking respite from the overwhelming weight of his thoughts. Wrapped tightly in his blanket, he absentmindedly scratched at the fur on his thighs, a nervous tick that offered temporary distraction. His gaze fell upon the wounds that marred his flesh, a secret he held close, aware of the unhealthiness of his actions.

In truth, he couldn't fathom the possibility of breaking free from this cycle. It had become an addiction, a desperate attempt to alleviate the agony of your absence. You were more than just a presence in his life; you were the very essence of his happiness. The day you left, his world came crashing down, an irreversible rupture in his soul.

That fateful night, Rauru found himself kneeling before the statue of the goddess, pouring his heart out in desperate pleas. He yearned for your return, hoping against all odds that she would hear his cries and grant him reprieve. However, no matter how many times he humbled himself in front of that relentless statue, you remained forever out of reach.

Oh, how he longed for your presence once more, but it was an unattainable dream. He resigned himself to a life where you would never grace his side again, forever mourning the loss of the one who completed him..

[thetruearchmagos]

Folks, is it normal to have crises about which of your WIPs you'd one day like to have 'first published'? 'Cause I'm having one of those and---

[teadari]

Drabble

ᥫ᭡ Fall in love with a sword ᥫ᭡  

Zangetsu/Hichigo Shirosaki x reader

   ✧˚ ༘ ⋆｡♡˚✧˚ ༘ ⋆｡♡˚ᥫ᭡ᥫ᭡✧˚ ༘ ⋆｡♡˚ᥫ᭡

How did she manage to find herself in such a, quite frankly, difficult predicament? It felt as though she had entered a dream where reality and fantasy intertwined in an unbearable dance. The poor soul seemed to have completely lost her mind, drowning in endless thoughts of him, that young being who had unexpectedly burst into her life. The nights, serenely following one another, got lost in the vast fields of her anxious thoughts — she neither eats nor sleeps, and only he, like an unrelenting ghost, wanders through her consciousness.

It might be tempting to assume that something is amiss with this girl; however, within this invisible captivity lies a remarkable truth about human existence itself. Interestingly, it is precisely in moments when the heart is gripped by anxiety that we attain the highest degree of sensitivity, allowing us to embrace — to say goodbye to despair and to forgive ourselves for so easily succumbing to the allure of passion.

It’s all the fault of that strange boy, with his twisting laughter and mysterious allure, whom she met by chance yet cannot forget. His image seems to be etched in her soul, stirring a whirlwind of emotions far more swift and powerful than any storm at sea. And, as is rare for many, she found herself thinking that there was something more contained in his gaze; perhaps it was a gift — a gift of love, wrapped in tender feelings, capable of transforming a person's life, erasing the boundaries between the real and the imaginary.

Ichigo Kurosaki is that very boy with bright orange hair, like fiery tongues that refuse to be extinguished. He is intelligent, handsome, and a bit hotheaded, yet always ready to lend a hand. There was something radiant about his nature, and it seemed that in his presence, the dark corners of life blossomed with hope.

Ohiko liked him only as a good friend, nothing more; however... as is often the case in life, she unexpectedly encountered "him" — the one who suddenly took root in her heart, like a traveler finding refuge in a cozy nook embraced by warmth. This mysterious man became a symbol of unrealized desires for her, a dream that weaves through her thoughts like a scarlet thread.

Inexplicably, the girl possessed an unusual gift — she could see all sorts of ghosts and other creatures that sometimes slipped into her ordinary world, adding a touch of magic while simultaneously instilling a sense of anxiety and fear. It was both a blessing and a curse, a temptation that beckoned and tormented her spirit.

────୨ৎ────────୨ৎ────

On a cold evening, as she walked through the empty streets like a solitary figure on the desolate pages of a faded blueprint, her thoughts were as barren as the autumn wind rushing past the trees shedding their last leaves. She felt anxiety and boredom merging into something singular and dark, like the night snuffing out the light.

She longed to be alone with herself, to wrap herself in the abyss of oblivion like a cozy blanket, shutting out the calls of the outside world and forgetting the dreams of tomorrow that still surrounded her, insistently and intrusively breaking into her consciousness. This was the very paradox of life: sometimes, to find peace, one must dive into their own fears and hopes, confront the ghosts that dwell in the corners of the heart, and only then might one discover the key to the happiness they seek.

Alas, her plans, fragile as delicate cocoons, easily crumbled into dust when a monstrous figure emerged before her, like a menacing shadow. Its head was crowned with a bony mask that resembled a distorted skull, as if death itself had chosen to paint its horrors on the faces of beings wandering this world. This ominous creature radiated such danger that the air thickened with a peculiar viscosity, imparting a palpable sense of impending doom.

Ohiko barely had time to realize that her fate was about to change drastically before the creature had already seized her in its grasp, like an unavoidable destiny eager to consume her entirely — a moment where time ceased to exist, and only the heartbeat of terror remained, leaving the laws of logic behind. In her sheer horror, she began to bid farewell to life when suddenly, amidst the darkness and chaos that filled her mind, a miracle intervened — a salvation that arrived like a ray of light piercing through the veil of darkness, cutting through to her very soul.

In such moments, it becomes clear that life itself is full of paradoxes — in one instant, you can stand on the edge of an abyss, only to become part of something much greater than you could ever imagine in the next. Each encounter with dark forces undoubtedly leaves scars, but at the same time, it offers the chance to reflect light, even when it seems barely visible.

It seems that Ichigo saved her — his figure in black, like a shimmering darkness, flashed by so swiftly that she barely had time to grasp his appearance, leaving only a warm spark of hope in her heart. This fleeting shadow, ready to carve a path through the gloomy expanse, became a symbol of salvation for her.

And then, in an instant, the creature disappeared, like a timid ghost dissolving into the morning fog. In its place emerged a bright, blinding light — like the radiance of truth, casting a glow on the lightness of being. Yet this light turned out to be merely the harbinger of a new fear: she began to fall, like a bird with clipped wings, plunging into an abyss where only one fate awaited her — the risk of crashing to her death.

She fell and fell, as the sky transformed into an endless maze of darkness — grim and threatening, where every turn took her further away from the saving light. The sky, once dark and nocturnal, suddenly underwent metamorphosis, turning into towering glass skyscrapers, inverted, as if left in the aftermath of a terrible earthquake.

As she fell, she felt an overwhelming terror, afraid of shattering into tiny fragments. Yet her descent turned out to be surprisingly smooth and painless, evoking a slight confusion within her soul — as if fate itself had chosen to shield her from harsh realities. It was a peculiar sensation, especially since she landed on a glass floor, reflecting her anxieties like a mirror concealing the true face of her fears.

Barely able to rise, she glanced around and realized that the space around her was as strangely real as when she was falling, as if she had entered an illusory reality where the laws of physics and logic had lost their grip. The blue, almost transparent sky stretched above her, while clouds floated by like gentle dreams, leaving behind a faint trail. Skyscrapers towered all around, seeming to have their own pulse — they filled the space like thoughts enveloping a person's heart in moments of profound confusion.

She didn’t understand where she was, and, to be honest, she couldn't grasp how just a couple of seconds ago her world had seemed completely different, like disjointed fragments of reality scattered across the cheerful pages of an invisible album. Everything around her felt like a sweet yet unsettling dream — a realm where logic and madness collided, much like a scene from a play where the actors had lost the thread of the script and wandered mindlessly through the carnival chaos.

Thoughts swirled in her mind, preventing her from piecing everything together into a cohesive mosaic, that same rustle of fear collectively intensifying her confusion. “What should I do next?” she pondered, confronted by the surreal landscape painted by her imagination. In that moment, when realization weighed heavily upon her, she made a resolute decision — to rise and move forward, compelled by the relentless call of hope to find a way out of this tangled labyrinth.

However, before she could take a single step, footsteps suddenly echoed through the air, quiet and soundless, like a harbinger of a storm. A sense of anxious anticipation, a shadow, enveloped her as someone approached, someone who seemed to know more about her than she knew about herself. He watched her, studying her indignation and confusion with a piercing intensity that was both mesmerizing and suffocating.

Turning around, she met his gaze — it was "him," an astonishing apparition in white, conjured by the heavens themselves, resembling Ichigo but with a distinct difference in color. His hair was as pure as freshly fallen snow, and his skin was dazzlingly white, while his attire undeniably complemented this ethereal image, distancing him from the ordinary world.

But his eyes, oh! Those eyes were something beyond mere reflections of light: they beckoned like an invitation to the very essence of life. Within them resided an extraordinary beauty that drew one in, like gentle waves sweeping a person into the uncharted depths of unknown desires. This beauty lay in their depth, in the enigmatic sadness and infinite wisdom they held, containing countless secrets hidden from the fleeting glance of an ordinary person.

Unconsciously, she found herself swept away in a stream of thoughts — perhaps it is through encounters with such unique beings that we deepen our understanding of life. Each step, every meeting — none of these are mere coincidences; they are significant milestones on the journey to ourselves, on the path to discovering meaning and love that permeates every moment of our existence. In that white, fragile form, she sensed new horizons unfolding, ready to be explored like light breaking through the dense veil of night.

He beckoned to her, drawing her in like a magnetic force, pulling her away from the warmth of the shore and into his unfathomable depths — to touch him, to drown in his golden eyes, to lose herself in that hazy joy and forget everything forever, as if time had lost its meaning, leaving only the ghost of a moment behind.

“Who... who are you?” she finally asked, her voice soft like the whisper of the wind through the leaves, her gaze locked onto him, unable to break free from the hypnotic aura that enveloped him from head to toe.

“I... don't think you would understand, even if I explained it to you,” he said, his words flowing like a melody, filling the air with an invisible energy. “All you need to know is that I am the inner embodiment of Ichigo.”

This response carried a note of mystery, yet he could feel his own heart swaying in a dance with her emotions, as if cosmic forces silently urged them toward unity.

In this absurd game of fate, he became a reflection of her innermost self, like two mirrors colliding to create something greater than the mere sum of their reflections. In his eyes, filled with charm and unspoken desires, she saw the possibility of crafting a new reality, where even in profound contemplation, one could discover the ties that bind us, despite the fragility known as life.

So, standing before him, she felt as if she had come to realize: each of us is not only a collector of scars and memories but also the creator of our own essence, ready to explore the unknown, embracing both darkness and light as they dance together in the unity of existence. Within this fusion of the inner and outer lies the answers to the questions we live by, until we find that very light that will lead us to the truth, willing to accept it.

They both gazed at each other, and Ohiko felt a strange sensation, as if she had known him her entire life — as if all her experiences, joys, and secret tears wove together into a single pattern, so familiar and close, despite the fact that they had only just met. In that moment, beyond the bounds of life, something more was unfolding than just a chance encounter — it was the incomprehensible threads of fate, intertwined by invisible strings that spoke of destiny and its unpredictable twists.

They might have continued staring at each other, sinking deeper into the abyss of their feelings, but she was the first, like a sensitive being, to take a step back, creating space for breathing between them. This gesture seemed to symbolize her internal struggle — she longed for closeness but felt the weight of wandering, as if the world around them had suddenly tasted a bittersweet farewell in that very moment.

“How did I get here?” she asked, curious yet slightly embarrassed, and although deep down she felt that such trivialities as circumstances held little significance, she was nonetheless eager to continue the conversation.

All she wanted was to gaze into those golden eyes, to immerse herself in their soft glow; it was a forgotten realm of dreams where tenderness and understanding reigned, a place where all her worries could dissolve in embrace.

“Who knows! It’s all just madness!” he replied with a hint of irritation, but within his voice, laced with roughness, there was a palpable tension. It was clear he was interested in her, despite the harshness of his tone, as he sought answers to the questions that invisibly pulled him toward her.

Inside the girl, the turmoil of her mind was mounting: what on earth was she doing here? Why hadn’t Ichigo told her about his battles with monsters, about the dangers looming over them like dark specters? Yet at some point, her consciousness quietly whispered that perhaps she didn’t need to know right now. Maybe all she truly wanted was to lose herself in his gaze, to dissolve in his presence, and remain with him for a lifetime like a sea wave washing away all traces of the past on the shore.

It was as if life itself had deceived her into this moment, where only he and she existed, while the rest of the world rightfully lingered in the shadows, where unyielding rules were forgotten. She understood that the real lesson lay not just in grasping the circumstances but in finding peace amidst the endless questions that life presents to us. After all, sometimes it’s unnecessary to untangle the complexities of reality — it’s enough to live in the moment, as if each breath were filled with the sacred meaning that only love can impart.

Oh, if only she understood what was to come — if she could see how suffering would fill her nights, with thoughts of him wandering through her mind like shadows, leaving behind neither bright hope nor peace. Her soul, like a hungover breeze over the rosy fields of youth, already sensed the troubling harvest of emotions that awaited her, yet she remained deaf to the call of reason, which tried to dispel the fog of uncertainty.

And suddenly, his voice, with a slight touch of insistence, pulled her from her spiraling thoughts: “You need to go back.” This phrase swept through her mind like a storm cloud, piercing the clarity of the sky. Before she could fully grasp what was happening, her hands, like clouds, slipped away from where they had rested against his, loosening the bond that seemed so strong.

Everything around her grew quieter, the entire nature hushed in anticipation. The warmth that had once burned in her heart gave way to a cold wind — emptiness, like eternal silence, enveloped her. In that dark moment, a familiar, anxious voice called to her from somewhere far away, 

 urging her to return to the reality from which she had emerged.

It was Kurosaki, earnestly calling her name, trying to awaken not just from a dark dream but from the very soul tangled in aspirations and fantasies.

“Ohiko! Ohiko! Please, wake up!” he exclaimed, his voice filled with silent pain, shattering the lingering silence like thunder on a clear day. And at last, when she slightly opened her eyes, her face reflected that same puzzled vigilance often found in a world shrouded in the veil of dreams. She reached  out her hand, whispering into the air.

“Who is he?” the boy questioned anxiously, looking at her with confusion and bewilderment, trying to unravel the mystery. Yet in every word, there was a readiness to hear about that other reality she spoke of — a reality slipping through his fingers like a shadow.

“I want to go back,” she continued to whisper, her gaze fixed on the void as if trying to disperse the clouds hiding the morning dawn. That “back” reminded her of a place where everything was calm and peaceful.

In that moment, Ichigo stood in awkward bewilderment, like a wanderer lost in the fog of his friend’s consciousness, unable to discern the fissures in her inner world. He watched as the color faded from her cheeks, and, having glimpsed all the dark images of the past, he rushed to save her from the ravenous Hollow that was ready to devour her light in the blink of an eye. He barely caught her as she fell into the embrace of death — his heart clenched at the sight of her losing consciousness, sinking into a realm filled with anxiety and fear. Now her words sounded chaotic and indistinct, turning into nonsensical ramblings, like a crossroads of lost paths.

He didn’t understand who she was talking about when her weary lips whispered of someone who wasn’t there; he couldn’t grasp what drove her to this ghostly “back.” This abyss of metaphorical meanings tormented his soul, and even if he were to unravel the complex tangle of her thoughts, he would not allow his friend to confront his own internal “Hollow” — the dark entity that existed beyond rational understanding, which seemed to consume not only his physical form but all of his life’s dreams.

࣪ 𓏲ּ ᥫ᭡ ₊ ⊹ ˑ ִ ֶ 𓂃࣪𓏲ּ ᥫ᭡ ₊ ⊹ ˑ ִ ֶ 𓂃࣪𓏲ּ ᥫ᭡ ₊ ⊹ ˑ ִ ֶ 𓂃

A week passed, then another, and another, as days slipped by unnoticed in the tumultuous whirlwind of life, leaving behind only the eclipse of sweet memories.

She couldn’t forget that mysterious young man who relentlessly beckoned her, like a star drawing a traveler through the dark expanses of night, calling her back to a world where logic and reality blossomed in a dazzling play of the mind.

At night, under the cover of darkness, when the world slipped into the realm of dreams, her soul was tormented by questions that wouldn’t release their grip on her thoughts: “Who is he, really? Why do I feel an irresistible urge to be with him? Why? Why do I need him so much?” These questions, like shadows, glided through her consciousness, and it seemed that each one pierced her world, leaving only cold traces behind.

And honestly, she could never find the answers to those tormenting questions, no matter how hard she tried to penetrate the mysteries of her heart, guarded in the dusty tomes of lost wisdom. The only feeling she sensed was a painful attraction to the unknown young man, as if he were a dazzling light in the boundless expanse of her memory.

Her heart ached so sharply, it felt as though the thorns of suffering were blooming within her chest, and tears rolled down her cheeks, leaving damp trails on her skin like raindrops seeking understanding, yet unable to find it. In this state, where each breath seemed to awaken confusion, she involuntarily whispered to herself:

“I want to be with him… I want to be with him…” she repeated, her voice filled with confusion — an echo of loss in an empty hall. She couldn’t quite understand why this unfamiliar boy stirred such feelings within her, but the nature of those emotions both fascinated and terrified her, like the darkness into which silence fearlessly descends.

ָ 𓂃 ࣪˖ ָ🐇་༘࿐ָ𓂃 ࣪˖ ָ🐇་༘࿐ָ𓂃 ࣪˖ ָ🐇་༘࿐

Thoughts of him, the one with that mysterious charm, came to her daily, never leaving her for even a moment; like an unruly wind, they swirled around her consciousness, filling all the space between dreams and reality. And then, when she encountered Ichigo again, swept up in a wave of emotion, she rushed towards him, sobbing loudly: “I don’t know how you did this, but bring me back! I’ll forgive you!”

Such a desperate confession left the boy in confusion — his eyes widened in surprise, a hint of misunderstanding fluttered in his soul, and a desire to help arose in his heart, even though he didn’t know how. He was certainly willing to be the protector against the invisible enemy that hindered their interaction with reality, but alas, it was difficult for him to grasp that his close friend, tearful and desperate, was asking him for something infinitely deep and troubling. This plea sounded like a prayer that couldn’t be expressed in words, and despite his repeated attempts to question Ohiko, he remained in the dark, much like being in an abandoned room where the echoes of memories led nowhere.

"I can’t take this anymore… I can’t go on like this! I need 'him,' I need to touch him again…" she whispered, drowning in tears and pressing against the boy's chest, seeking refuge from the storm that had erupted within her soul, where chaos and confusion reigned. Her voice dissolved into the air, like a vague call to the universe, and their binding moment was seized by her, like the only lifebuoy in an ocean of sorrow.

She felt like she was losing her mind — caught in the internal chaos of thoughts and feelings that seemed to envelop her like a damp fog on a cold morning. All her aspirations and struggles intertwined in a single knot, leaving only streams of sorrow, heavy as blankets that her weary heart could not shake off.

How often in life does pain go unrecognized by those around us, like shadows dancing but never intersecting? It is not just a loss but a confrontation with the very essence of suffering — when every breath is infused with the bitter realization that perhaps no one can truly comprehend the depths of her longing. Ichigo, though nearby, seemed to linger behind a curtain, unaware of the full force of her internal struggle, as if he were an outside observer in a play where the actors had forgotten their roles and become entangled in the script.

As she wept, she continued to knock persistently on the closed doors, hoping that one day they would open, bringing light into the dark corridors of her troubled soul.

And then, for a moment, the entire world — this poor, bustling cycle — seemed to vanish, melting away into the air, leaving only her and an atmosphere enveloped in gentle tranquility. She felt warmth — warmth without boundaries, so ethereal and soothing that it seemed to penetrate her to the core, pulling her from the darkness.

Someone's long fingers softly brushed against her cheek, gently wiping away her tears, like a lost angel seeking to bring her back to life. How strange that touch was — the tips of the fingers were so cold, almost icy, yet at the same time, they radiated something incredible that warmed her skin, dispelling the fog in her heart.

As she opened her eyes, she felt time freeze around her, and looking up, she saw “him” again — the one she so dearly longed to see. In his face, in the depths of his mysterious gaze, all her hidden dreams merged into one. It was a moment when inner peace met desire, and all her questions, like timid shadows, faded away in his presence, sinking into the depths of the sea.

“It’s… it’s you… Why am I…” Her voice faltered as he brushed his thumb gently over her lips, trying to seal off the tumult of thoughts that threatened to spill out again and again.

“Shh… I can’t explain it. Just as I can’t explain why being near you has made me softer… But… I wanted this too,” he whispered softly in his unique voice, his breath brushing against her face, warming her skin like a summer wind carrying the promise of storms.

“But… it doesn’t make sense for two strangers to need each other so much,” she replied, realizing that their fingers—genuine threads of fate—had intertwined, creating an invisible bond between their souls.

“Doesn’t it matter to you?” he asked with irony, knowing that something far worse loomed ahead than their current turmoil of emotions, like the stillness that precedes a powerful hurricane.

In this interplay of words and touches lies the depth of human nature — how often do we seek solace in the arms of those who were once strangers, viewing the unfurled wings of fate through a lens of fear? Their turmoil serves as a reminder of how often we, wanderers in this vast universe, become lost in our quest to answer the question: “What is true connection?” And so, like two ships in a stormy sea, their hearts collide, leaving behind gentle ripples that could soon transform into fierce storms.

He touched the tip of her nose, whispering with a strained voice, “What are you doing to me, woman? You’re making me not only softer but also filling me with a desire to protect you willingly — something I’ve never enjoyed doing… Yet, I understand that we will never see each other again,” he said, his voice quiet and heavy, hiding the pain and despair within.

As if in response to his dire confession, Ohiko tightened her grip on his fingers. Every movement she made in that moment was an attempt to cling to something significant that was at risk of being lost.

“But why? Why do you say we will never see each other again?” Her voice trembled like a worn string, and within that tremor was so much hope that even the stars, holding their breath, seemed to be hidden from her sorrow.

She was afraid of being separated from him again.

Every part of her longed to dissolve into his warmth, to become a part of his world where worries had no place, leaving behind all the sorrows that tormented her soul.

"I could tell you that we can't be together because I would only bring you pain and despair, that I am a dangerous being, driven by instincts that dictate I should only kill. You would be positioned as the enemy, but even that wouldn't stop me..."

I am not merely a non-human; I am something more, a being that lives within Ichigo — a spirit embodied in the form of his sword. And although I possess my own body and my own emotions, I am still inextricably linked to his soul, like tentacles reaching from the depths of the ocean to the surface.

I can’t escape from here, no matter how much I wish I could; my life is in his hands, like a message sealed in a crystal bottle, forever carried away by a turbulent sea into the endless distance. And damn it, that’s not even the main issue!

He paused for a few seconds, lifting her chin to meet her gaze — eyes filled with fear, like light and shadow engaged in an unending struggle.

“The thing is, I think about you; about how you don’t need someone like me in your life. I won’t be there for you in the most beautiful moments of your life, I won’t be able to give you a future, I won’t be able to bring you joy and happiness…” His voice trembled, heavy with a tension where lofty dreams collided with harsh reality. 

Do we, in our pursuit of love, sometimes forget that this feeling can be both a balm for the heart and a poison for the soul? A refuge and a trap at the same time? His inner torment served as a reminder that true happiness rarely aligns with our vision of an ideal.

And so, standing at the edge of this chasm of emotions, he realized that love, like light, could be pervasive, yet often remained elusive for those condemned to be torn apart by their desires and reality. In this loneliness, in this agonizing internal conflict, they both had to navigate the intricate labyrinth of their stories, leaving behind doubts and insecurities, gazing up at the unreachable stars that promised hope while undeniably casting shadows of despair. 

With each of his words, tear after tear, she struggled to accept the harsh reality — a world that intruded upon their enclosed space like an unexpected guest. It seemed as if she didn’t care about anything; the only thing she desired was to be free of burdensome thoughts and to remain with him forever, despite the curses and unbearable circumstances.

But before she could utter a single word, the boy held her tightly, as if trying to conceal the last remnants of their happiness within his embrace. And before succumbing to this cycle of pain, he whispered softly, “Please, forget me as if I never existed. Don’t think of me, I beg you, don’t suffer because of me… just forgive me.”

Those words, spoken with the weight of a breaking soul, hung in the air like autumn fog, eager to envelop everything around them.

In that moment, he gave her at least what little he could — the one thing he had ever possessed: his unwavering affection in this final chord of their connection. This gift, encapsulated in words, became a sort of farewell testament, filled with sincerity and bitterness, which perhaps only deepens the understanding that love is not always about happiness and joy, but sometimes the highest form of self-sacrifice. Sometimes, we must give up the most precious things so that another can find freedom, realizing that not every bond is meant to last forever.

It was a kiss imbued with sensuality, tenderness, and that mysterious depth that sometimes connects different souls, like two fireflies wandering through the vast expanse of the night sky. Their love was so inexplicable that it seemed a paradox, one that philosophers might ponder, trying to decipher this algebraic beverage of emotions.

Through this kiss, Ohiko's tears flowed stronger down her cheeks like rain on fragrant earth, leaving traces like cursed marks of inevitability. She clung to his neck tightly, with all her strength, as if fearing that his alienation would become permanent. Inside her, conflicting emotions raged — the understanding that she needed to let him go, yet not wanting to sever the fragile thread that connected their hearts in that moment, like a bee collecting nectar, reluctant to part from the flower that would be lost along with her.

It was soft and pleasant, like a morning breeze penetrating an autumn day, when the sun was just beginning to spread its rays; but, as it often is in moments of happiness, everything came to a halt in an instant.

She opened her eyes again and saw Ichigo — his face reflected concern as he gently called her name, like an incantation that could return them to that happy illusion. Yet, instead of responding to him, she simply turned away, gliding silently like a shadow and leaving behind only a faint trace of her presence, like the scent of blooming cherry blossoms lost in the bustle of spring.

Ichigo stood frozen in place, rooted in a state of unchanging despair, his eyes, once filled with hope, now heavy with sadness. He watched her retreat, and suddenly felt a single tear slip from the corner of his eye…

࣪ ָ☾.༘˚⋆𐙚｡⋆𖦹.✧˚𔘓࣪ ָ☾.𖠋♡𖠋༘˚⋆𐙚｡⋆𖦹.✧˚࣪ ָ☾.࣪ ָ

На русском

ᥫ᭡✧˚ ༘ ⋆｡♡˚✧˚ ༘ ⋆｡♡˚ᥫ᭡ᥫ᭡✧˚ ༘ ⋆｡♡˚ᥫ᭡

Как же её угораздило попасть в такую, прямо скажем, затруднительную историю? Это словно превратилось в некий сон, где реальность и фантазия переплетаются в невыносимом танце. Она, бедная душа, как будто окончательно сошла с ума, погружаясь в бесконечные размышления о нём, том юном создании, что неожиданно ворвался в её жизнь. Ночи, безмятежно сменяющие друг друга, теряются в бескрайних полях её тревожных мыслей — она не ест, не спит и лишь он, как неумолимый призрак, бродит в её сознании.

Пожалуй, можно было бы предположить, что с этой девушкой что-то неладное, однако в этом невидимом плену скрывается поразительная истина о самом человеческом существовании. Как ни странно, но именно в такие моменты, когда сердце сжато тревогой, мы обретаем наивысшую степень чувственности, позволяющую чувствовать — прощаться с отчаянием и прощать себя за то, что так легко поддаёмся флёру страсти.

Всему виной тот странный мальчишка, с извивающи��ся смехом и таинственной притягательностью, которого она встретила случайно, однако забыть его не в силах. Его облик словно отпечатался в её душе, вызывая вихрь эмоций, куда более стремительных и мощных, чем любой шторм на море. И, как лишь у немногих бывает, она поймала себя на мысли, что именно в взгляде заключено нечто большее; возможно, это был дар — дар любви, обрамленный в нежные чувства, который может преобразить жизнь человека, стирая границы между реальным и воображаемым.

Ичиго Куросаки — тот самый парнишка с ярко рыжими волосами, словно огненные языки, которые никогда не желают угаснуть. Умен, красив и хоть немного вспыльчив, но всегда готов прийти на помощь. Из его натуры исходило нечто светлое, и, казалось бы, в его присутствии тёмные углы жизни расцветали надеждой.

Охико нравился он лишь как хороший друг, не более, однако… однако, как это часто бывает в жизни, она случайно встретила «его» — того, кто неожиданно обосновался в её сердце, словно путник, найдя пристанище в уютной нише, охваченной теплом. Этот загадочный человек стал для неё символом неосуществимых желаний, мечтой, которая как алый мотив проходит красной нитью через её мысли.

Необъяснимым образом, девушка обладала необычным даром — она могла видеть всяких призраков и прочую нечисть, которые порой проскальзывали в её обычный мир, придавая ему оттенок волшебства, но и одновременно внушая тревогу и страх. Это была награда и проклятие, искушение, которое влекло и терзало её дух.

────୨ৎ────────୨ৎ────

Одним холодным вечером, когда она шла по пустым улицам, словно по безлюдным страницам засохшего чертежа, её мысли были столь же пусты, как осенний ветер, проносящийся мимо деревьев, сбрасывающих последние листья. Она чувствовала, как тревога и скука сливаются в нечто единое и тёмное, словно ночь, забирающая свет.

Ей лишь хотелось поскорее побыть наедине с самой собой, укрыться в бездне забвения как в уютном одеяле, чтобы не слышать призывов внешнего мира и забыть о грёзах завтрашнего дня, которые всё так же окутывали её, настойчиво и непрошено врываясь в сознание. Это был тот самый парадокс жизни: порой, чтобы обрести покой, нужно было окунуться в собственные страхи и надежды, встретиться лицом к лицу с призраками, что обитают в углах сердца, и лишь тогда, возможно, удастся найти ключ к искомому счастью.

Но увы, её планы, будто хрупкие куколки, легко разлетались в прах, когда перед ней, подобно грозной тени, возникло чудище. Его голова была увенчана костяной маской, напоминающей деформированный череп, как будто сама смерть решила нарисовать свои ужасы на лицах существ, бродящих по этому миру. От этого зловещего создания веяло такой опасностью, что в воздухе закипала некая особая вязкость, дарующая ощутимое чувство предчувствия несчастья.

Охико даже не успела осознать, что её судьба круто изменяется, как чудище уже схватило её в свои цепкие и громадные лапы, словно неизбежная участь, стремящаяся поглотить её целиком — этот момент, в котором времени не существует, а лишь бьётся пульс ужаса, оставляя за пределами законы логики. Она в страшном испуге уже начала прощаться с жизнью, как вдруг в этот мрак и хаос, наполнивший её сознание, вмешалось чудо — спасение, нагрянувшее как луч света сквозь завесу тьмы, пронзая её душу.

В такие мгновения становится ясным, что сама жизнь полна парадоксов — в один миг можно стоять на краю пропасти, в следующий же стать частью чего-то гораздо большего, чем мы могли бы предположить. Каждая встреча с тёмными силами, несомненно, оставляет шрамы, но в то же время она дарит возможность отразить свет, даже если он кажется едва заметным.

Кажется, её спас Ичиго — его фигура в черном, словно сверкающий мрак, промелькнула так стремительно, что она не успела зафиксировать его облик, оставив лишь в сердце тёплую искру надежды. Эта мимолетная тень, готовая проложить путь через хмурое пространство, стала для неё символом спасения.

И вот, в один миг, чудище исчезло, словно стыдливый призрак, растворяющийся в утреннем тумане. Вместо него появился белый свет, яркий, ослепляющий — как радиance истины, оттеняющее легкость бытия. Однако этот свет оказался лишь предвестником нового страха: она, как птица с подрезанными крыльями, начала падать вниз, в бездну, где её ожидало только одно — риск разбиться на смерть.

Она падала, падала, и казалось, что небо трансформировалось в бесконечный лабиринт зла — мрачное и угрожающее, где каждый заворот уводил её всё дальше от спасительного света. Небо, изначально темное и ночное, вдруг претерпело метаморфозу, обращаясь в высокие стеклянные небоскрёбы, перевёрнутые, как бы после страшного землетрясения.

Падая, она испытывала ужасный страх, боясь разбиться на мелкие осколки, однако её падение оказалось удивительно плавным и безболезненным, что вызывало в душе легкое недоумение — как будто сама судьба решила оберечь её от жестоких реалий. Странное ощущение, учитывая, что она приземлилась на стеклянный пол, отражающий её тревожные переживания, как зеркало, скрывающее истинное лицо.

Еле встав, она оглянулась и поняла, что пространство вокруг неё так же странно реальное, как и в тот момент, когда она падала, словно путешествовал по иллюзорной реальности, где законы физики и логики потеряли свою силу. Голубое, почти прозрачное небо тянулось над ней, а облака, словно нежные мечты, плыли мимо, оставляя за собой легкий след. Повсюду возносились небоскрёбы, которые, казалось, имели свой собственный пульс — они заполняли пространство, как думы, охватывающие сердце человека в моменты крайнего смятения .

Она не понимала, где находилась, и, честно говоря, не могла уловить, как же так получилось, что всего пару секунд назад мир её казался совершенно иным, словно разрозненные фрагменты реальности, разбросанные по весёлым страницам невидимого альбома. Всё вокруг производило впечатление сладкого, но тревожного сна — мир, где столкнулись логика и безумие, словно сцена из театра, где игроки потеряли нить сценария и бездумно бродят по карнавальному хаосу.

Мысли кружились в её голове, не позволяя собрать всё в единую мозаику, тот же шорох страха, дружно нагнетающий смятение. «Что же делать дальше?» — думала она, сталкиваясь с сюрреалистическим пейзажем, рисуемым её воображением. И в этот момент, когда осознание настигает с великой тяжестью, она приняла волевое решение — встать и идти вперёд, подчиняясь неумолимому зову надежды найти выход из этого запутанного лабиринта.

Однако, не успела она сделать и шагу, как в воздухе вдруг раздались шаги, тихие и бесшумные, как предвестие грозы. Чувство тревожного ожидания, тень, окутывало её, когда к ней приблизился некто, который, кажется, знал о ней больше, чем она о себе. Он наблюдал за ней, изучая её негодование и смятение с неким пронзительным вниманием, которое было одновременно завораживающим и угнетающим.

Обернувшись, она встретила его взор — это был »он», удивительный призрак в белом, порождённый самими небесами, внешне похожий на Ичиго, но с исключением в цветах. Его волосы, как свежевыпавший снег, были белоснежными, такая же кожа, ослепительно белая, а одежда, безусловно, дополняла этот образ, отстранённый от привычного мира.

Но глаза его, о! Эти глаза — они были нечто иное, чем просто отражение света: они манили, словно обручение с самой сутью жизни. В них таилась необычайная красота, влекущая за собой, как лёгкие волны, уносящие человека в бескрайние дали неизвестных желаний. Эта красота была в их глубине, в загадочной печали и бесконечной мудрости, содержащей во множестве тайн, что укрыты от быстрого взгляда обычного человека.

Неосознанно она оказалась в потоке размышлений — возможно, именно через столкновение с такими уникальными существами мы обогащаем понимание нашей жизни. Каждый шаг, каждой встрече, — всё это является не просто случайностями, а важными вехами на пути к себе, на пути к обретению смысла и любви, которая пронизывает каждое мгновение нашего существования. И в этом белом, хрупком облике она почувствовала, как открываются новые горизонты, готовые к исследованию подобно свету, пробивающемуся через плотную завесу ночи.

Он манил её, манил, словн�� магнетическая сила, покидающая тепло берега моря и затягивающая в свои бездонные глубины — прикоснуться к нему, утонуть в его золотистых глазах, потеряться в этой смутной радости и забыться навсегда, как если бы время потеряло своё значение, оставив за собой лишь призрак мгновения.

— Кто… кто ты? — наконец спросила она, её голос звучал тихо, как шёпот ветра среди листвы, а взгляд её оставался прикованным к нему, не в силах оторваться от этой гипнотической ауры, окутывающей его с головы до пят.

— Я… не думаю, что ты поймёшь, даже если я объясню тебе… — произнёс он, слова его текли, будто мелодия, наполняя воздух невидимой энергией. — Всё, что тебе нужно знать, так это то, что я внутреннее воплощение Ичиго.

Этот ответ вышел из его уст с ноткой тайны, и всё равно он ощущал, как его собственное сердце колебалось в танце с её эмоциями, будто космические силы безмолвно толкали их к единству.

И в эту нелепую игру судеб он становился для неё неким отражением её самого внутреннего «я», как два зеркала, сталкивающиеся, чтобы создать нечто большее, чем простая сумма отражений. В его глазах, полных обаяния и неопределённых жажд, она увидела возможность создания новой реальности, в которой даже в самом глубоком размышлении возможно обнаружить то, что нас связывает, несмотря на хрупкость, названную жизнью.

Так, стоя перед ним, она, как будто, осознала: каждый из нас — это не только собиратель шрамов и воспоминаний, это также творец своей собственной сущности, готовый исследовать неизвестное, принимая как тьму, так и свет, пребывающие в едином танце существования— в этом единении внутреннего и внешнего прячутся ответы на вопросы, которыми мы живем, пока не находим тот самый свет, что приведёт к истине, готовая это принять.

Они оба смотрели друг на друга, и у Охико возникло странное ощущение, будто она знала его целую жизнь — будто все её переживания, радости и тайные слёзы заплетались в один узор, так знакомый и близкий, хотя они встретились лишь сейчас. В этом моменте времени за пределами жизни, раскрывалось нечто большее, чем простая случайная встреча — это были непостижимые нити судьбы, связанные невидимыми струнами, ведающие о судьбе и её непредсказуемых поворотах.

Они бы так и продолжали неподвижно смотреть друг на друга, погружаясь в бездну своих чувств, однако первая, как будто чувствительное создание, отступила на шаг назад, оставляя пространство для дыхания между ними. Этот жест, казалось, символизировал её внутреннюю борьбу — она стремилась к близости, но ощущала в этом блуждание, как будто мир вокруг них в этот миг вдруг вкусил прощальную печаль.

— Как я сюда попала? — с любопытством и одновременно с легким смущением спросила она, и, хотя в душе её жила уверенность, что такие мелочи, как обстоятельства, имеют неблагозвучное значение, ей в то же время остро хотелось продолжать этот разговор.

Ей хотелось лишь смотреть в эти золотистые глаза, погружаться в их мягкое сияние, это было забытое царство грёз, где царила нежность и понимание, в объятиях которого терялись бы все тревоги.

— Чтоб я знал! Это какая-то чертовщина! — произнёс он с ноткой раздражения, но в его голосе, переплетённом с грубостью, можно было уловить живое волнение. Он явно был заинтересован в ней, несмотря на всю внешнюю жесткость своего тона иская ответы на вопросы, что невидимо тянули его к ней.

Внутри девушки нарастали мытарства разума: какого черта она здесь? Почему Ичиго не поведал ей о своих сражениях с чудовищами, об опасностях, что витают над их головами как тёмные призраки? Однако в какой-то момент, её сознание тихо шептало, что может, ей сейчас и не нужно это знать? Может, всё, что ей на самом деле хочется — это забыться в его взгляде, раствориться в его присутствии и остаться с ним на всю жизнь как морская волна, смывающая на берегу все следы прошлого.

Словно сама жизнь обманом привела её в этот момент, где существовал лишь он и она, а остальной мир справедливо оставался в тени, где незыблемые правила забывались. Она понимала, что настоящий урок заключается не только в понимании обстоятельств, но и в умении обрести покой в бескрайних вопросах, которые сама жизнь ставит перед нами. В конце концов, иногда не нужно распутывать клубок реальности — достаточно жить в мгновении, как если бы каждый вздох был наполнен священным смыслом, присущим одной лишь любви.

Ох, если бы ��на только понимала, что это такое — если бы ей было дано увидеть, как страдания будут заполнять её ночи, когда мысли о нём будут как тени, бродить по её сознанию, не оставляя ни светлой надежды, ни покоя. Её душа, как похмельный ветерок в румяных полях юности, уже предчувствовала тот тревожный урожай чувств, который её ждёт, но она оставалась глуха к зову разума, который старался рассеять туман неопределённости.

И вдруг его голос, с легким налётом настойчивости, вырвал её из витков размышлений: «Тебе нужно вернуться». Эта фраза пронеслась сквозь её мысли, как грозовая туча, тот час рассекающая прозрачность неба. Она не успела осознать происходящее, как её ладони, будто облака, покинули прижатые к ладоням парня, ослабляя ту связь, что казалась столь крепкой.

Всё вокруг стало тише, вся природа затихала в ожидании. Жар, ранее пылавший в её сердеце, уступил место холодному ветру — пустота, как вечное безмолвие, окутала её. В этом мрачном моменте раздался знакомый, обеспокоенный голос, доносившийся где-то издалека, призывающий её вернуться к той реальности, откуда она вышла.

Это был Куросаки, который с тревогой звал её имя пытаясь разбудить не тёмный сон, а саму душу, запутавшуюся в стремлениях и мечтаниях.

— Охико! Охико! Прошу тебя, очнись! — восклицал он, его голос, полный безмолвной боли, разрывал затянувшуюся тишину, как гром среди ясного неба. И наконец, когда она приоткрыла глаза, на её лице отразилась та самая недоуменная настороженность, которая порой бывает в мире, покрытом пеленой снов. Она потянула свою ручку, шепча в воздух: »Где он?»

— Кто он? — обеспокоенно переспросил парень, глядя на неё с растерянностью и непониманием пытаясь разгадывать загадку, однако в каждом слове чувствовалась готовность услышать ту другую реальность, о которой она говорила — реальность, ускользающую от него как тень сквозь пальцы.

— Я хочу обратно, — продолжала шептать она, её взгляд был устремлён в пустоту, будто пытаясь рассеять облака, скрывающие утреннюю зарю. Это «обратно» напоминало ей о том месте, где всё было тихо и умиротворённо —

В данный момент Ичиго находился в неловком недоумении, словно странник, заблудившийся в тумане сознания своей подруги, не в силах разглядеть прорехи её внутреннего мира. Он видел, как румянец её лица увядал, и, просмотрев все мрачные картины прошлого, со всей отчаянной поспешностью успел спасти её от голодного Пустого, который во мгновение ока готов был поглотить её свет. Он едва успел поймать её, когда она падала в объятия смерти — в тот момент его сердце сжалось, когда он увидел, как она потеряла сознание, погружаясь в мир, где царила тревога и страх, а сейчас её слова звучали хаотично, невнятно, обернувшись бессмысленным бредом, как перекрёсток заблудившихся дорог.

Он не понимал, о ком она говорит, когда её усталые губы шептали о ком-то, кого не было рядом, не мог осознать, что же толкает её к этому призрачному «обратно». Эта бездна метафорических смыслов терзала его душу, и даже если бы ему довелось распутать сложный клубок её мыслей, он не допустил бы, чтобы подруга снова столкнулась с его внутренним «пустым» — тёмной сущностью, существующей по ту сторону разумного понимания, которая, казалось, поглощала не только физическую форму, но и все жизненные мечты.࣪

𓏲ּ ᥫ᭡ ₊ ⊹ ˑ ִ ֶ 𓂃࣪𓏲ּ ᥫ᭡ ₊ ⊹ ˑ ִ ֶ 𓂃࣪𓏲ּ ᥫ᭡ ₊ ⊹ ˑ ִ ֶ 𓂃

С того времени прошла неделя, а затем и вторая, и третья, как незаметно пробегают дни в смятенном вихре жизни, оставляя за собой лишь затмение сладости воспоминаний.

Она не могла забыть этого таинственного юноши, который неумолимо манил её, словно звезда, тянущая путника сквозь темные дали ночи, звал к себе обратно — в тот мир, где логика и реальность расцветали в феерической игре ума.

По ночам, под покровом мрака, когда мир уходил в царство снов, её душу терзали вопросы, которые не отпускали её разум: «Кто же всё-таки он? Почему я чувствую непреодолимую необходимость быть с ним? Почему? Почему я так нуждаюсь в нём?» Эти вопросы как тени, скользили по её сознанию, и, казалось, каждое из них пронзало её мир, оставляя за собой только холодные следы.

И честно говоря, она так и не могла найти ответ на эти терзающие вопросы, как ни старалась проникнуть в тайны своего сердца хранимая в запылённых книгах утраченная мудрость. Единственное, что она ощущала — это болезненное влечение к неведомому юноше, будто он был ослепительным светом в бескрайних просторах её памяти.

Сердце её ныло так остро, как будто в груди распускались шипы страдания, а слёзы сами собой катились по щекам, оставляя за собой влажные следы на её коже, как капли дождя, что требуют понимания, но никак не могут получить его. В этом состоянии, где каждый вздох словно пробуждал смятение, она невольно шептала себе:

— Хочу к нему… хочу к нему… — повторяла она, её голос был полон растерянности— эхо потерь в пустом зале. Она не понимала толком, почему этот незнакомый юноша вызывал в ней такие чувства, но сама природа этих эмоций завораживала и пугает её одновременно как мрак, в который бесстрашно уходит безмолвие.ָ

𓂃 ࣪˖ ָ🐇་༘࿐ָ𓂃 ࣪˖ ָ🐇་༘࿐ָ𓂃 ࣪˖ ָ🐇་༘࿐

Мысли о нём, обладателе того загадочного обаяния, ежедневно приходили к ней, не оставляя ни на миг; как непокорный ветер, они вились вокруг её сознания, заполняя всё пространство между мечтами и реальностью. И вот, когда она вновь встретила Ичиго, охваченная волной эмоций, она бросилась к нему, заливисто рыдая: »Я не знаю, как ты это сделал, но верни меня обратно! Прощу тебя!»

Такое отчаянное признание повергло парня в замешательство — его глаза раскрылись от удивления, в его душе затрепетал оттенок непонимания, и в сердце возникло желание помочь, хотя он и не знал, как. Он был, безусловно, готов стать тем самым защитником от невидимого врага, затруднившего их взаимодействие с реальностью, но, увы, ему было тяжело осознать, что его близкий друг, весь в слезах, просит его о чем-то бесконечно глубоком и тревожном. Эта мольба звучала как молитва, которую невозможно выразить словами, но даже после неоднократных попыток расспрашивать Охико, он всё же оставался в потемках, словно в заброшенной комнате, где эхо воспоминаний ни к чему не вело.

— Я больше так не могу… Я больше не могу! Мне нужен «он», мне нужно вновь прикоснуться к нему… — шептала она, заливаясь слезами и прижимаясь к груди парня ищи в его объятиях приют от бури, что разразилась в её душе, где царила неразбериха и смятение. Её голос растворялся в воздухе, как неясный призыв к вселенной, их сковывающий момент был схвачен ею, словно единственный спасательный круг в океане печали.

Она чувствовала себя сумасшедшей — в этом внутреннем хаосе мыслей и чувств, что, казалось, накрывали её, как мокрый туман в холодное утро. Все её стремления и муки переплетались в единой клубке, оставляя лишь потоки печали, давящими— тяжёлые одеяла, которые усталое сердце не в силах был свергнуть.

Как часто в жизни бывает, что боль остается непонятой теми, кто рядом, как тени, что двигаются в танце, но никогда не пересекаются. Это не просто потеря, но столкновение с самой сущностью страдания — когда каждый вздох пропитан горьким осознанием, что, возможно, никто не способен распознать истинные глубины её тоски. Ичиго, хоть и был рядом, оставался как бы за завесой, не осознавая всей силы её внутренней борьбы, как будто сам был сторонним наблюдателем в пьесе, где актёры забыли свои роли и запутались в сценарии.

Так плача, она продолжала упорно стучаться в закрытые двери, надеясь, что однажды они откроются, подарив свет в темные коридоры её смятённой души.

И вот, на мгновение, весь мир, этот бедный и суетливый круговорот, будто бы исчез, растаял в воздухе, оставив лишь её и атмосферу, окутанную нежным покоем. Она почувствовала тепло — тепло, не ведающее границ, такое неземное и приятное, что, казалось, оно пронизывает её до самых глубин, вытаскивая из тьмы.

Чьи-то длинные пальцы легко коснулись её щеки, осторожно вытирая слёзы, будто заблудившийся ангел стремящийся вернуть её к жизни. Как же странно было это прикосновение — подушечки пальцев были такими холодными, почти ледяными, но одновременно они излучали нечто невероятное, что согревало её кожу, разгоняя туман в её сердце.

Открыв глаза, она ощутила, как вокруг неё замерло время, и, взглянув вверх, вновь увидела «его» — того, кого так сильно хотела видеть. В его лице, в его глубоком и загадочном взоре сл��вались все её потаённые мечты. Это был миг, когда внутреннее спокойствие соединилось с желанием, и все вопросы, как несмелые тени, растворились в его присутствии, утопая в морских глубинах.

— Ты… это ты… Почему я… — её голос захлебнулся, когда он коснулся большим пальцем её губ пытаясь запечатать тот смятенный поток мыслей, который снова и снова порывался вырваться наружу.

— Тсс… Объяснить я этого не могу. Ровно как и то, что рядом с тобой я стал мягче… Но… я тоже этого хотел, — тихо шептал он своим необычным голосом, прикасаясь к её лицу дыханием, которое обжигало её кожу, словно летний ветер, несущий обещание бурь.

— Но… но так не бывает, чтобы два незнакомца так нуждались друг в друге, — отвечала она, понимая, что их пальцы— искренние нити судьбы, переплелись воедино, создавая незримую связь между душами.

— А тебе не плевать? — с иронией спросил он понимая, что надвигается нечто гораздо худшее, чем текущая неразбериха их эмоций, как предгрозовая тишина, которая предшествует сильному урагану.

В этой игре слов и прикосновений кроется глубина человеческой природы — как часто мы ищем успокоения в объятиях тех, кто до этого был чужим, глядя сквозь призму страха на расправленные крылья судьбы. Их метания напоминают о том, как часто мы, путники в этом мироздании, заблудились, стремясь найти ответ на вопрос: «Что такое истинная связь?» И вот, словно два корабля в бурном море, их сердца соприкасаются, оставляя за собой легкие волны, что вскоре могут превратиться в жуткие шторма.

Он коснулся её кончика носика, надсадно шепча: — Что ты со мной делаешь, женщина? Ты делаешь меня не только мягким, но и вселяешь во мне желание защищать тебя добровольно, чего я никогда не любил делать… Однако я понимаю, что мы больше никогда не увидимся, — произнёс он с тихим и тяжёлым голосом, за которым скрывалась боль и отчаяние.

Словно в ответ на его бедственное признание, Охико сжала крепче его пальцы. Каждое её движение, в этот момент, стало попыткой уцепиться за что-то важное, что угрожало быть потерянным.

— Но почему? Почему ты говоришь, что мы больше не увидимся? — её голос дрожал, как уставшая от метаний струна, и в этой дрожи скрывалось столько надежды, что даже сами звёзды, затаив дыхание, казались укрытыми от её печали.

Она боялась вновь разлучаться с ним.

Всё её существо стремилось раствориться в его тепле, перетвориться в часть его мира, где тревоги не имели места, и оставить позади все печали, что терзали её душу.

— Я бы мог сказать, что мы не можем быть вместе, потому что я принесу тебе только боль и отчаяние, что я — опасное существо, и мои инстинкты диктуют мне лишь убивать. Ты была бы в позиции противника, но даже это не остановило бы меня…

Я не просто не-человек; я — нечто большее, существо, живущее внутри Ичиго, — дух, облечённый в форму его меча. И хотя я обладаю своим телом и своими собственными эмоциями, я всё ещё неразрывно связан с его душой, как щупальца, тянущиеся от глубин океана к поверхности.

Я не могу отсюда выйти, как бы сильно я этого не желал; моя жизнь в его руках, как запечатанная в хрустальной бутылке с посланием, навсегда унесённая бурным морем в бескрайние дали. И чёрт возьми, даже не в этом, собственно, состоит проблема!

Он на несколько секунд замолчал, подняв её подбородок, чтобы заглянуть ей в глаза — ��лаза, полные страха, как свет и тень, которые ведут непрекращающуюся борьбу.

— Дело в том, что я думаю о тебе; о том, что в жизни тебе не нужно такое дерьмо как я. Я не смогу быть с тобой в самые прекрасные моменты твоей жизни, не смогу подарить тебе будущее, не смогу приносить радость и счастье… — его голос дрожал, наполненный ээ надрывом, в котором пересекались возвышенные мечты и жестокая реальность.

Неужели мы, в нашем стремлении к любви, порой забываем, что это чувство может быть как бальзамом для сердца, так и отравой для души? Убежищем и ловушкой одновременно? Его внутренние терзания служили напоминанием о том, что подлинное счастье редко соответствует нашему видению идеала.

И вот, стоя на краю этой пропасти чувств, он осознавал, что любовь, как свет, могла быть вездесущей, но часто оказывалась недосягаемой для того, кто осуждён разрываться на части между своим желанием и реальностью. В этом одиночестве, в этом терзающем внутреннем конфликте, они оба должны были разобраться в сложном лабиринте своих историй, оставляя позади сомнения и неуверенности, взирая на недостижимые звёзды, что обещали надежду, но несомненно оставляли за собой тень отчаяния.

И с каждым его словом, слеза за слезой, она не хотела принимать жестокую реальность — мир, который, как нежданный гость, вторгался в их замкнутое пространство. Казалось, ей было всё равно на всё; единственное, что она желала — это лишиться обременяющих дум и навсегда остаться с ним, несмотря на проклятия и невыносимые обстоятельства.

Но прежде чем она успела произнести хоть слово, парень крепко обнял её, словно пытался затерять в своих объятиях последние остатки их счастья. И прежде чем прибегнуть к этому кругу боли, он тихо шептал: «Прошу, забудь меня, будто меня никогда и не было. Не думай обо мне, прошу, не страдай из-за меня… прощу…»

Эти слова, произнесённые с тяжестью разрывающейся души, повисли в воздухе, как осенний туман, стремящийся окутать всё вокруг.

Так, он подарил ей хотя бы то немногое, что мог, то единственное, что у него было когда-либо — свою беззаветную привязанность в этом последнем аккорде их связи. Этот дар, заключённый в словах, стал своего рода прощальным завещанием, наполненным искренностью и горечью, что, возможно, лишь усиливает понимание о том, что любовь — это не всегда счастье и радость, но иногда и высшая форма самопожертвования. Как порой нужно отдать самое дорогое, чтобы другой мог обрести свободу, осознать, что не всякая связь призвана длиться вечно.

Это был поцелуй, наполненный чувственностью, нежностью и той таинственной глубиной, что иногда соприкасает разные души, будто два светлячка бредущие в бескрайние дали ночного неба; любовь их была столь необъяснима, что казалась парадоксом, над которым философы могли бы ломать головы, пытаясь разгадать этот алгебраический напиток чувств.

Сквозь этот поцелуй, слёзы Охико, подобно дождю на душистой земле, текли сильнее по её щекам, оставляя следы как проклятые знаки неотвратимости. Она обнимала его за шею, сжимая крепко, с величайшей силой, как будто боясь, что его отчуждение станет окончательным. Внутри неё бушевали противоречивые эмоции — понимать, что отпускать его нужно, — и в то же время, не желать разрывать ту тонкую нить, что связывала их сердца в этот миг, как пчела, собирающая нектар, не желающая расстав��ться с цветком, который оборвётся вместе с ней.

Было мягко и приятно, словно утренний бриз, проникающий в осенний день, когда солнце только начинало расправлять свои лучи; но, как бывает во мгновениях счастья, в один миг всё прекратилось.

Она вновь открыла глаза и вновь увидела Ичиго — его лицо выражало беспокойство, он нежно звал её имя, словно заклинание, способное вернуть их к той счастливой иллюзии. Однако, вместо того чтобы ответить ему, она лишь развернулась и, скользя словно тень, бесшумно ушла, оставляя за собой лишь легкий шлейф её присутствия, как аромат цветущей вишни, потерянной в суете весны.

Ичиго остался стоять на месте, укоренённый в стане неизменного отчаяния, его глаза, полные надежды, с сумрачной лёгкостью заполнялись печалью. Он смотрел ей в след, и вдруг ощутил, как в уголке его глаза потекла одна-единственная слеза…࣪ ָ

☾.༘˚⋆𐙚｡⋆𖦹.✧˚𔘓࣪ ָ☾.𖠋♡𖠋༘˚⋆𐙚｡⋆𖦹.✧˚࣪ ָ☾.࣪ ָ

[ser3nityst4r]

Meeting Xiao

The trees swayed through the desolate plains of Guili Plains, whipping sand into miniature tornados that danced across the cracked earth. The sky, a bruised canvas of purple and red, mirrored the turmoil within me. I, a humble adventurer seeking fortune and a bit of excitement, had stumbled upon a forgotten ruin, hoping for some hidden treasure. Now, however, I was surrounded by a legion of hilichurls, their guttural roars a symphony of chaos.

My hand trembled as I tightened my grip on the hilt of my sword, the familiar weight a small comfort. I was outnumbered, outmatched, and frankly, terrified. The hilichurls, fueled by a primal rage, pressed forward, their crude weapons glinting with malicious intent.

Suddenly, a figure materialized from the swirling dust, a silhouette against the fading light. He moved with the grace of a phantom, a blur of crimson and gold. His eyes, two burning embers, swept over the battlefield, assessing the situation with an unsettling calmness.

In a heartbeat, the tide of the battle shifted. He moved like a whirlwind, a blur of crimson and gold, his polearm singing a death knell as it sliced through the hilichurls with chilling precision. Each strike was swift and precise, a testament to years of deadly training. He moved with an almost supernatural speed, a blur of motion that defied the laws of physics. The hilichurls, caught completely off guard, were slaughtered with brutal efficiency. Their guttural cries of anger turned into panicked whimpers as they fell, one by one, until the only sounds left were the howling wind and the rhythmic thud of his polearm.

When the battle was over, the air hung thick with the scent of blood and the lingering stench of fear. He stood amidst the carnage, an island of calm in a sea of chaos. His eyes, now focused on me, held a depth of wisdom and a hint of weariness that defied his age. He approached slowly, the rustle of his robes the only sound in the windswept stillness.

'Traveler,' he spoke, his voice a low rumble, tinged with a melancholic undertone, 'you should not have been here.'

His words, though spoken calmly, carried a weight that resonated within me. I, still recovering from the adrenaline rush, fumbled for words. 'I... I was just looking for some treasures,' I stammered, pointing at the crumbling ruins behind me.

He raised a hand, his long fingers adorned with golden rings that glinted in the fading light. 'This place is cursed,' he said, his gaze fixed on the ruins, 'and not by the hilichurls. It is a place of sorrow, of loss and pain.'

The air grew heavy with his words, and I felt a shiver run down my spine. 'I... I didn't know,' I murmured, my voice barely a whisper.

He sighed, the sound carrying a weight of centuries. 'You are lucky to be alive, traveler. This place is not meant for mortals. It is a refuge for those who have lost their way, a place where shadows linger.'

He turned away, his eyes lost in the swirling dust devils. 'Go, traveler,' he said, his voice soft but firm. 'Find a place where the sunlight can reach you. This place... this place is best left undisturbed.'

I watched him disappear into the swirling dust, his silhouette fading into the twilight. I felt a strange sense of gratitude, a feeling of being protected by an unseen force. Yet, even as I turned to leave, a lingering question echoed in my mind. Who was this figure, this warrior of shadows, who appeared out of nowhere, saved me from a brutal death, and then vanished without a trace?

As I walked away from the desolate ruins, the wind seemed to whisper a name into my ear: 'Xiao.' 

That night, under a sky strewn with a million stars, I couldn't shake the image of the verdant figure coated with crimson, a phantom warrior dancing on the edge of the world, a guardian of shadows. The name 'Xiao' echoed in my mind, a whisper of legend, a promise of mystery. 

I knew then, deep in my heart, that I had just witnessed something extraordinary. And in a world filled with wonders and dangers, I knew that I had just met a being whose story was far from over. The encounter with Xiao, the Yaksha of Liyue, had left an indelible mark on my soul, a testament to the hidden depths and ancient mysteries that lay beneath the surface of Teyvat.

[who-scrambled-my-ocs]

Eggs

This started as fave egg recipes and devolved into anything involving “egg” XD

Also not everyone’s on here cause some didn’t inspire anything really interesting. I can add if asked B)

-

Neora: Living in Arcaelys, the land of the elves, most of her experiences have been with sweet foods and dishes. Beyond cakes and patisserie, she rarely gets variety in egg dishes. She thus doesn’t often cook it for herself and prefers alternatives during breakfast like toast with jams and butters.

However, on her visits to her mother she has often been treated to highly savoury foods like egg curry, egg chatamari, and the highly popular spicy fried boiled eggs which has left her with a nostalgic craving each time she heads back home with her dad. Her dad has occasionally requested herbs in order to make it as the occasional treat for them both during special occasions as she grew up. One of the few Arcaelys raised elves who often eats savoury foods

-

Tireal: similar palette to his daughter Neora, if perhaps more elven inclined. Enjoys sweet egg dishes greatly and is less prepared for the spicy dishes his ex-wife prepared for him and their daughter, often being left red faced and wheeze-laughing through tears as his littol girl giggled at his silly face, smiling fond at the chuckles of his former partner

-

Evan: Scrambled, he likes to crack the eggs straight in the pan and toss the shells in one swift move, which has been upgraded to Taren the moss-fae-fox snatching em up midair to crunch on as excellent fertiliser for his fur, much to Evan’s amusement.

Evan himself will continue to shake and agitate the eggs until they’re fluffy with light crunchy bits in between, adding some thyme, salt and pepper to the mix. If he’s making breakfast meat with it, he’ll use the oil of that to fry said eggs in

-

Sia: Usually sunny side up. But doesn’t even actually like eggs all that much, and has had the existential crises thought of wondering if that’s because she’s technically a Mythical Bird

However that thought was quickly confuddled upon observing little Raspberry absolutely going to town on an egg, pecking and chipping it to smithereens, gulping it down faster than she could think, and then watching Raspberry fly off into the sunrise to build another nest. An experience which has left her with a whirlwind of thoughts about biology, life, magic, her own self, and what it all means in the grand scheme of things despite Fate not existing.

Drowns her sunny side up eggs in cinnamon now so she does not have to go through another existential rabbit hole while eating breakfast with everyone present. Can’t think about eggs when ya can’t taste em. Hehe…

-

Felix: An absolute feast at his theìa’s house, scrambled eggs with tomatoes fried in olive oil, oregano, basil and crumbled feta on top. Something he’d devoured in a hurry with his brother and cousins, before rushing out the door to play as his mama and theìa gossiped the hot day away, a full stomach warming his thin frame as dust swirled around his running feet.

Something he took so greatly for granted, as all kids do, and shed tears over when he ate again at his theìa’s house many, many years later. Felix’s soft spot is food, and the feeling of being finally satiated after a meal is a feeling he treasures dearly with every spoonful of delicious kayanas and his theìa fussing over him

-

Lucas: Despite appearances, Lucas is as much an excellent cook as his husband is, considering he learned much from him. His literal sea life diet of raw fish and unfortunate human flesh has long been put aside for more, palatable sushi and richer, livelier, Chosen prey.

As thus, he has learned to cook his meals with a patience that is almost reverent as he carefully lowers eggs in perfectly cooked sauce, poaching them to a perfect consistency. Uova All’inferno, Eggs in purgatory in Italian, and yes, he still enjoys gulping them whole with an amused irony at the name as he considers his own nature. But its rich and warm and perfectly done, and he savours every moment of it

-

Bruno: Frittata al tartufo, Uova All’inferno, Frittata di zucchine, Deviled eggs, etc etc etc. He’s had so many egg dishes he’s long lost count of all he’s tried, and all he’s made uniquely his own. With so many recipes, one would expect something fancy and rich and over the top to be his favourite, no?

Surprisingly, it’s the simple dish that captures his interest best here. A simple sunny side up, cooked very similar to Lucas’s own purgatory poached eggs, heaped with flavourful ingredients on the side true. But the simple egg yolk is allowed to shine as it practically melts over the rest of the dish, adding a rich flavouring only the basics sometimes can give, being a spotlight on their own.

-

Lewis: Easter eggs. As a baker and pattiserier he would often spent countless hours painting food safe dyes onto chocolate eggs, placing a basket up front of his shop for the kids to come and choose one out of.

Had an extra special batch he’d make just for Mairae and her kids, blushing greatly as he offered the sweet strawberry filled treats to the trio and sighing fondly as they left his shop, happy for the rest of the day (but no he definitely wasn’t in love. Definitely not. No no)

-

Flint and Rho: Both love a good hard boiled egg, with Flint chomping into it and eventually eating it straight whole as he grows bigger than the egg. Rho will take sweet little bites, and make happy smacks and coos in between each nibble

-

Yarrow: Who cares about what Sia and Evan’s deadbeat dad liked? But for lore sake it will be said, he never learned to properly cook. Mooched off his parents spoiling and complained constantly about everything put on his plate to them. “Praised” Mairae highly on her learning how to cook human dishes early in the relationship while simultaneously chipping at her self confidence with passively hurtful comments, knowing full well what he was doing.

Rotten fucking egg through and through

-

Juliette: *spoilers. Reminder to add once introduced*

-

Denise *spoilers. Reminder to add once introduced*

-

Seth: *spoilers. Reminder to add once introduced*

[sturniolocoded]

New Years Day - 🧡 Chris Sturniolo

The party had ended hours ago, but the remnants lingered like ghosts in the empty room. Glitter scattered across the hardwood floor sparkled under the dim light filtering through the curtains. Y/n sighed, sinking onto the couch, her fingers absently tracing the edge of a Polaroid photo left behind.

It was a snapshot frozen in time, capturing laughter and warmth amidst the chaos of the night before. Y/n's heart squeezed with bittersweet nostalgia as she remembered the moments that led up to that picture – the shared jokes, the stolen glances, the fleeting touches that spoke volumes.

She glanced around the room, taking in the sight of girls tiptoeing barefoot through the lobby, their giggles echoing in the stillness. Candle wax dripped onto the coffee table, forming intricate patterns like abstract art. And there, amidst the scattered debris of the party, was Chris, with his brown hair tousled and his blue eyes filled with a mixture of exhaustion and contentment.

"Don't read the last page," his voice echoed in her mind, a reminder of the unspoken agreement between them. They lived for the present, for the moments they shared, refusing to dwell on what might come next.

Y/n's fingers brushed over the lyrics she had scribbled down earlier, the words resonating with a familiarity that tugged at her heartstrings. Chris may be the toast of the town, or he may stumble and fall, but she would be there – steady and unwavering.

As she folded the Polaroid and tucked it into her pocket, Y/n felt a sense of peace wash over her. She knew the road ahead would be long and uncertain, filled with twists and turns they couldn't predict. But she also knew that as long as they held onto the memories they created together, they would find their way through the darkness.

Chris squeezed her hand three times in the back of the taxi, a silent reassurance that spoke volumes. Y/n met his gaze, her heart overflowing with love and gratitude for the man beside her. They may be cleaning up bottles on New Year's Day, but they would be doing it together – facing whatever challenges the future held hand in hand.

"Please don't ever become a stranger," Y/n whispered softly, her voice barely audible over the hum of the engine. She leaned her head against Chris's shoulder, finding solace in the warmth of his embrace.

And as they drove off into the night, leaving behind the glitter and the memories of the party, Y/n knew that no matter what the future held, they would always have each other.

But the journey didn't end there. As days turned into weeks, and weeks into months, Y/n found herself enveloped in a whirlwind of adventure and emotion. Together with Chris and his twin brothers, Matt and Nick, they navigated the highs and lows of life in the spotlight, each moment etching itself into the fabric of their shared story.

From impromptu road trips to late-night jam sessions, from tearful goodbyes to joyous reunions, Y/n cherished every memory they created together. She held onto them like precious treasures, weaving them into the tapestry of her songwriting, infusing her music with the essence of their love and laughter.

And through it all, Chris remained her constant, her rock in a sea of uncertainty. His brown hair and blue eyes were her anchor, grounding her in moments of doubt and fear. Together, they weathered the storms of fame and fortune, never losing sight of what truly mattered – their bond, unbreakable and timeless.

As the years passed, Y/n's career flourished, her songs resonating with audiences around the world. But amidst the accolades and applause, she never forgot the boy with the crooked smile who stole her heart that fateful night.

"Don't ever become a stranger," she whispered into the darkness, her words a silent prayer to the universe. For she knew that no matter where life took them, their love would endure – a beacon of hope in a world that often seemed so dark and uncertain.

And as she closed her eyes, drifting into dreams of tomorrow, Y/n knew that as long as she held onto the memories they shared, Chris would always be with her, his laughter a melody that echoed through her soul for eternity.

[ryderdiedaily]

RYDERDIE PLAYLISTS.

i would walk through fire. 

featuring. saving grace - kodaline / train wreck - james arthur / love brought weight - old sea brigade / you got me - dylan scott / us - james bay / river - leon bridges + listen / post

right to the end. 

featuring. make you feel my love - jj heller / only you - the platters / donn't give up on me - andy grammer / ain't no mountain high enough - marvin gaye / glad you exist - dan + shay / whirlwind - sam ryder + listen / post

you changed my life. 

featuring. one call away - charlie pluth / state of grace - taylor swift / what you do to me - dan + shay / what your fathers says - the vamps / good as you - kane brown / god gave me you - blake shelton + listen / post

judd & grace ryder.

featuring. collide - rachel platten / where'd all the time go - dr.dog / heart like yours - willamette stone / brand new - ben rector / golden dandelions - barns courtney / next to me - imagine dragons + listen

grudd. 

featuring. prayed for you - matt stell / she's everything - brad paisley / forever after all - luke combs / speechless - dan + shay / masterpiece - thompson square / you're the only reason - gabby barrett + listen 

ryderdie, we're not gonna fall.

featuring. anything but mine - kenny chesney / when i said i do - clink black & lisa hartman black / hesitate - jonas brothers / baptized - daughtry / somewhere with you - kenny chesney / hey girl - billy currington + listen 

judson ryder, my love. 

featuring. would you go with me - josh turner / heroes - mika / how to save a life - the fray / stubborn love - the lumineers / hold my girl - george ezra / blessed - thomas rhett + listen 

what's playing in judd ryder's truck.

featuring. loud and heavy - cody jinks / sinners like me - erich church / holds you up - shane harper / letter to me - brad paisley / never grow up - taylor swift / sun to me - zach bryan + listen

judd ryder, kick the dust up.

featuring. kick the dust up - luke bryan / deep end - daughtry / one man band - old dominion / dirt on my boots - jon pardi / the sound of silence - disturbed / back when i knew it all - montgomery gentry + listen

grace ryder, "who say i can't make a difference right there." 

featuring. jesus take the wheel - carrie underwood / i hurt too - katie herzig / the thing about love - alicia keys / i shall not fear - jon bryant / bridge over toubled water - jj heller / salute - little mix + listen / post