#pinkish-orange sky

[gigivas]

1K GIGI Prompts Collections 'Enchanted Twilight: Majestic Mountainscape in Vibrant Hues' 6007 Free 10 pages out of 1000 pages

Get Free 10 pages MTMEVE00572G_260_0001 – 1K GIGI Prompts Collections – Enchanted Twilight, Majestic Mountainscape in Vibrant Hues 6007 10PagesDownload 1K GIGI Prompts Collections ‘Enchanted Twilight: Majestic Mountainscape in Vibrant Hues’ 6007 series provides two documents, one document is 10 pages of prompts in 1000 pages, available for free download. One document is the complete 1000 pages…

[farginen]

riza is neither a morning or night person. she's a twilight person, specially very early dawn. she loves the stillness and quietness, the lighting, how there's no one outside. it's just calm and pretty.

[sukunasweetheart]

Being the bane of sukunas existence as you're his girlfriend because you act like a perverted old man around him... he kinda digs it tho, its mildly hilarious and he doesn't dislike the unhinged attention (he tries to be so lowkey about it)

Every once in a while, you'll caress his behind or fondle his big boobily man breasts, the same way he does to you. he was only stunned at first - now he is completely unphased by your sneaky little hands.

he texts you, asking you what you want for dinner, and he's not surprised when the answer is "i want you oiled up and naked in bed by the time i get home". then he just replies with "making pasta"

Big obnoxious smacking noises when you kiss him all over, and sukuna just lets you be, he'll be sitting on the couch turning the tv on and here you come, smooching his cheek. sometimes, its the top of his head, other times, its his forehead or neck. if you do it too much though, you'll get covered with his bite marks in return.

when sukuna gets up to go to the toilet, you ask him if you can hold his peepee while he takes a piss, bc you saw a funny tiktok talking about it... he gives you a silent judgmental stare as he closes the door on your face. but behind it, he lets out the tiniest snort and shakes his head bc the idea of it is so ridiculous.

one time when you go outdoor camping with him you genuinely accidentally stumble close to sukuna who is taking a leak in the forest bush area and he catches you staring from behind as he's buttoning himself back up. and then he's chasing you down while you're screaming that it was an accident and that you only heard him peeing and didn't actually see anything. (not that you don't know what it looks like, anyway.)

when he's sweaty after a workout or some physical exertion, you'll definitely be approaching him deviously, talking about some "covered in flavour" type of bullshit... he'll push your face away and head into the shower but his ears are flushed with red.

just... sukuna who will let u mack on him endlessly bc he secretly doesn't hate the doting 🥹🥹🥹 and if you're not being obnoxiously lewd or affectionate?? thats when he knows something's up...

and obviously, every now and then you'll say something that makes him know that you're not just lusting over his body.

during a walk back home on a summer afternoon, you point upwards while holding his hand and looking up.

"sukuna, look. you're in the sky."

he reluctantly looks up, expecting some sort of dick shaped cloud or something like that. but there are no clouds in sight.

"what is there to look at?" he asks, quizzically.

"the colour, silly. when the sun's still setting, the sky always gets like this, around the same time everyday. the pretty pinkish colour, like your hair."

he turns silent and observes the sky for a minute. you call him silly, as if it's an everyday thing that you compare a person with the literal sky.

"it's my favourite time of the day..." you mumble, just barely audible to his ears. and something about the way you stand there, and speak so softly, makes you look so pretty to him. "i'll always think of you when the sun is setting."

"oh- but i think of you everyday regardless, i suppose."

he already knows that. he already knows you love him. why does he feel so flushed right now?

"alright, i get it. enough. let's continue home," he urges you, holding your hand tighter. you follow him down the street, like a puppy.

life couldn't feel more at peace right now, with your fingers interlocked with his, listening to you hum your favourite song on the way home, the street now covered with the orange light of the sunset.

"any ideas for dinner?" he asks, a few minutes after some silence.

"mmm..."

oh, he regrets asking the question now, fully knowing what's coming.

"i want your tatas in my mouth, please."

"tatas?" sukuna's asks with furrowed brows.

after bursting into laughter at the way he said it, you attempt to think up an actual food you want for dinner.

"...just for tonight." sukuna mutters.

"huh?"

"don't ask me again, i might change my mind."

"wait- really?"

let's just say, your mouth had a taste of heaven for the first time that night.

[neon-danger]

No one’s even mentioned the two moons in the new Starcrossed cover I was so proud of that detail

[ddejavvu]

can i request for multiverse monday where hotch is the coach of the little league team that the reader's son is in, and they develop feelings with every meeting they have <33 thank youu

"Orange slices, Mr. Hotchner?"

Aaron turns, the breeze blowing his t-shirt tight against his stomach. He feels the wind against his bare skin, and adjusts the hem so that it's not rucking up his abdomen.

"I think those are for the little leaguers," Aaron smiles, warmly, kindly, accompanied by a soft pinkish hue to his face and neck. It's homey, the bright blue of the sky, the vibrant green of the grass, and soft like the material of his tee that juxtaposes the stiff suits in his wardrobe at home.

"I cut them, I can hand them out," You shrug, extending a small plastic bag of oranges towards him, "Besides, I hear they help with your skin."

He takes them, opens the bag and pinches one between his fingers before he teases, "Are you telling me I've got wrinkles?"

"No!" You laugh, and then you reconsider, "Well, frown lines. Probably from telling Manny to stop catching butterflies instead of balls. But I meant that you're gonna get sunburnt, Mr. Hotchner."

"I put on sunscreen," He shakes his head, absentmindedly tugging the flesh of the orange away from the rind with his teeth, his eyes drifting lazily over the kids playing catch.

"Not well."

He's broken out of his focus by your hand braced against his cheek, your thumb rubbing against the bridge of his nose. He stiffens, caught in the feeling of your gentle caress. He's fairly certain orange juice runs a sticky line down his chin. When you pull your hand away again there's a white paste on your skin, clearly sunscreen he hadn't applied as thoroughly as he'd thought.

"Oh." He mumbles sheepishly, swallowing the sour fruit in his mouth, "I thought-"

"Did Jack do it?"

"No," He admits, and he'll take the hit to his ego for the way your nose scrunches with glee as you laugh.

"Use a mirror next time, Mr. Hotchner," You suggest, bumping your shoulder into his as you begin surveying the kids like he was. One nearly trips over her own cleat and you tense, ready to spring into action, but she rights herself and you settle again.

"You're not one of the players, you know. You can call me Aaron." He hums.

"Oh, yeah? I think," You cock your head to the side, eyeing him, "That you just want one of the otter pops in my cooler. Orange slices weren't enough? You've resorted to buttering me up for a blue raspberry popsicle?"

"I do not want an otter pop," He chuckles, "Or maybe I do, but not to eat. I just want to hold it against my sunburn."

Your laughs combine into a sweet thing, a brief symphony among the thwacking of baseballs on leather and the huffing of little players. You reach down to the cooler and withdraw a pink popsicle, handing it out to him with a soft smirk.

"You're lucky I'm a team player, Aaron. Pink is my favorite, but since it matches the color of your face, I suppose you're welcome to it."

He thanks you for the popsicle as he settles it against his warm cheek, but he willfully neglects to tell you that the strawberry tones of his face are less from sun damage, and more from the way your shoulder comes to brush feather-light against his own, barely there but unmoving all the same.

[latenightdaydreams]

Werewolf König x Human!Reader (fem)

MDNI🔞

Master List

>cw: fem/afab, p in v, non-con, werewolf, knotty, breeding kink, biting, chase

3.5k word count

🐺

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💖Set in the 1980s💖

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It’s half past midnight as you hug your best friend goodbye. Her boyfriend had broken up with her, so you made the hour drive into the countryside to see her, but you work tomorrow so you aren’t able to stay the night.

“Are you sure you can’t stay?” Laura, your friend, asks. “It looks like it’s about to snow.” She looks to the sky with her sage green eyes, cheeks stained red from crying, but she still looks so beautiful.

“I can’t miss any more days of work, or else I would. I’ll drive safe, promise.” You hold your pinky finger out for her to wrap hers around.

“Call me once you get home, please.”

“I will.” You wave to her over your shoulder as you walk to your car. When you look up, you can see bright gray clouds and the full moon illuminating the night sky. You unlock your car and get inside, turning up the heater all the way.

 The radio turns on, Air Supply- “Making Love Out of Nothing at All”, blares from the speakers. Singing out with all your heart along with the radio as you turn your headlights on and set off back home.

The main road you take has no street lights to illuminate the path; only the light from your headlights and the moon to guide your way. When you look on either side of you, all you can see is dense woods with the occasional farm land.

Fluffy chunks of snow fall from the sky as the road ahead of you quickly gets covered. You turn on your windshield wipers at the highest setting. The snow makes the drive seem more surreal. As you have stepped into a Disney movie. It’s relaxing, to say the least.

Out of the corner of your eye, you can swear you see something big. You twist your head, trying not to look away from the snowy road for too long. Yet, you see nothing. You chalk it up to you being tired and seeing things. This area has no wolves, at least not anymore. They were all hunted into extinction or pushed out.

The drive only gets harder as the snow falls faster than what your windshield wipers can clear away. The visibility becomes so poor you can only see a few feet in front of you. Feeling your heartbeat pick up from anxiety, you slow your speed to 15 under the speed limit. You’d rather be safe than sorry.

.

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König deployed to middle America twenty-seven days ago. It was supposed to be a quick in-and-out extraction that went sideways. Two weeks turned into four. Panic set in as he realized he will change away from his restraints.

Day twenty-eight, he looked at his men with hungry eyes. Their fear of him becoming easier to smell and he knew he had to get away from them for their safety.

“I’m going to patrol. Make sure no one follows us.” He lies.

The sky beginning to turn a pinkish orange hue as he drops his weapons and runs. His heart pounding in his chest, dirt kicking up beneath his feet, he tries to get as far away from them as he can.

Looking up, the sky turns a dark blue as the sun is almost completely set. After what feels like an eternity of running, he finds an abandoned run-down farm. He makes his way inside the barn to make sure he is alone.

Once inside König quickly pulls his helmet off of his head followed by his mask. He drops to his knees taking in deep breaths. He can feel his body temperature beginning to rise rapidly and his senses begin to heighten. His pupils enlarge, turning his icy blue eyes black as he begins to pant. Pain consumes his body as he begins to change, his hands grabbing at his shirt and pulling the rest of his clothes from his body with haste.

“Argh!” König’s scream comes out deep, inhuman. His body begins to contort as he drops to the floor in agony.

His fingertips now sharp claws, black and grayish fur cover his body. Standing up from the floor, fully transformed, he takes in a deep breath before letting out a loud howl. He now stands 9ft tall. Taking a moment to adjust to everything he can’t stop sniffing the air. There is a scent, one that he has never smelled before. He follows it outside of the barn. Stepping into the moonlight, he begins to run on all fours in the direction it’s coming from.

König is blinded by his pure primal drive as he runs with one objective. He stops by a roadside and looks up to see a small ranch style home with two cars parked outside. A woman with her back turned to him hugging a taller blonde. It wasn’t the blonde he was here for; it was you. He was smelling you.

His eyes follow you as you walk to your car. It was too risky to run out and grab you now. When the headlights turn on his eyes; he squints, retreating back into the tree line. König stands on two feet and sniffs the air, letting out a deep sigh before dropping back down on all fours. He begins to follow you.

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You lean forward as you drive to try and see the road better. Driving was becoming dangerous, but you’re still 45 minutes away from home. Out of the corner of your eye you see the dark shadow again. It’s almost as if it’s something chasing the car, but you chalk it up to just the shadows mixing with the heavy downfall of snow.

The car’s tires begin to struggle to grip the road as it quickly becomes slippery from the heavy layer of snow. You lift your foot from the gas to let yourself slow down more.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck.” You whisper to yourself as you feel your heart beating in your ears. You absolutely hate driving in the snow, especially when you’re so far away from home. Had you known it would snow, you would have had Laura come stay with you.

Just as you did breathing exercises to calm yourself, something huge darts in front of your car. You slam on your brakes and turn the steering wheel. A panicked scream leaves your mouth as your car drifts out of control. Within the blink of an eye, your car slams into a guardrail that stops you from falling into a ravine. Your head hits the steering wheel and you fall to the side slightly, making the music blast. The song “Every Breath You Take” by the Police fills the car.

“Shit.” You sit up and rub your head, feeling warm blood on your fingers.

Reaching over, you turn your rearview mirror towards you to check yourself. The low light makes it hard, but you only see a cut across your forehead. Letting out a deep sigh, you look at the car through the windshield. It’s smoking, but the battery is still running, so you try to get the car to start back up. Nothing. You’re stranded.

Stepping out of the car, you’re hit by the harsh cold and the snow on your face. It’s absolutely miserable outside. You remember the last roadside sign said there was a rest stop about two miles ahead, you could definitely call for help there.

You go into your car’s trunk and pull out the flashlight you had back there in case of emergencies; much like the ones you’re in now. The snow crunched beneath each of your footsteps as you made your trek to the rest stop. If there is one thing you can be thankful for, it’s the fact you wore your winter boots today.

“Just my luck…” you whisper to yourself, your breath visible as you speak. The wind whistles all around you as you hug yourself with one arm and continue holding the flashlight up with the other. The night is eerily quiet, not one other car on the road.

You continue ahead and stay to the side near the tree line just in case a car came. You can’t shake the feeling of being watched, as if you’re being followed. In your head, you tell yourself that it must be just all of the anxiety. No one else is actually out here.

That is until you hear a branch snap. You freeze for a second, holding your breath, trying to listen. All you can hear is the sound of the wind whistling around you and your heartbeat in your ears. Just an animal… You think, but then you scare yourself trying to think about what size animal that was.

With nothing you can do, you decide to just push forward and keep walking. Each step you take with haste, as you feel the fear of being watched, might be valid. You try to not freak out and waste all of your energy running, so in your mind, you try to calm yourself.

Maybe it was only a deer. Deer are heavy and live here. Could have also just been a branch falling down…

To relax more, you hum to yourself, just a random tune you made up in your head. You look up at the sky to gaze at the moon when you hear another branch snap. You twist in that direction and shine your light. That’s when you see the reflective glow of a pair of eyes inside the tree line.

The eyes quickly move away, your stomach dropping. Your mind goes back to the creature you saw while driving. You look around before continuing on. Your once hurried steps are more of a light jog. Your mind is torn between the primal urge to run and the human urge to remain calm.

Just a deer, just a deer, just a deer…

You hear another branch and you jump, turning again to shine the light on it again. The eyes appear once more, closer this time. You let out a shaky breath as you feel a wave of dread wash over you. Just then, you hear a low growl.

Not a deer, not a deer, not a deer!

Without a second thought, you turn and run, continuing down the road. Your mind goes a million miles a second as you try to process what animal it could be; maybe even a stray dog. Either way, you didn’t want to find out.

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.

König watches you closely. Your smell is intoxicating. Consuming his mind, he can’t stop pursuing you. When you hear his heavy foot snap a stick, he freezes; he can hear your heartbeat race inside of your chest. The smell of fear growing stronger by the second.

You shine the light in his eyes, and he cowers away from the brightness of it. He lingers as you walk away again, getting some distance between the two of you so it would be easier to follow you without being seen.

He keeps his pace, listening to you hum a song to yourself. Acting as if you’re unaware that you’re being stalked when your elevated heart beat says otherwise. Then he does it again. This time you’re quick and flash the light on him instantly.

His urge to get close to you is uncontrollable. Your smell…what is it? He needs you, craves you. You are his. He lets out a deep growl, feeling his body tingle. You hear it and take off quickly. This is the moment, his time to pounce.

He picks up his pace until he is ahead of you. Once he is, he jumps out from the woods and walks in front of you. Standing up on two legs, he lifts his head and howls.

A deep, truly terrified scream escapes your lips as you watch a 9-foot-tall creature stand before you on two legs, howling as a wolf. Your flashlight illuminates the thick, dark fur covering its whole body. This was the creature you saw running beside your car, the one stepping on sticks, whose eyes you saw glowing…

You turn quickly and run back in the opposite direction, towards Laura’s house. In a panic, you drop your flashlight, your only possible weapon. There is no time to stop and pick it up, as you can hear the creature beginning to chase you.

“HELP!” you scream into the darkness, but there is no one around to hear you. “PLEASE!”

Adrenaline courses through your veins as your feet slip on the snow beneath you. You catch yourself and keep going. Looking over your shoulder, the creature is gone. What the fuck… You stop to look around, panting.  

If it wasn’t for the claw marks in the snow, you’d think you were hallucinating. Laura's home is closer to you than the rest stop, so you continue running back in that direction. As the adrenaline wears off, tears fill your eyes, the rush of everything you just witnessed causing you to break down. You take a deep inhale before letting out a loud sob, your feet slowing. Allowing yourself to have a moment before collecting yourself.

You wipe your tears away, trying to steady your breath as you turn to look behind you. All you see are your own footprints now. The cold makes your nose leak as you wipe it away on your coat sleeve.

“What the fuck is going on?” You whisper to yourself as you sniffle.

You turn back around and freeze. Up the road you see a dark black shadow. Your heart rate spikes again. It doesn’t move, so you take small steps backwards. Unexpectedly, the creature walks away slowly back into the wooded area. Confused on which direction you should go; you just continue to go towards Laura. Clearly, no matter where you go, this thing can move faster. Everything around you is quiet; on high alert, your eyes dart around in every direction.

“Just keep walking. You’ll be at Laura’s in no time.” Your voice cracks, lacking confidence in your own words. It’s as if this thing was toying with you.

Your body shivers from the intense cold. In your mind you convince yourself that this will just be a funny story you tell her once you get there. She will make you hot chocolate and everything will be fine. You’ll be okay.

Just as you started to believe your own hype, your body hits the snow-covered road- hard. Your head hits the ground and your vision goes blurry for a split second. You can feel hands grabbing your ankles and dragging you back into the woods. In a panic you begin to grasp at the snow on the ground, trying to pull yourself away from it.

“Let me go!” You try to squirm, trying to make yourself difficult in hopes it will drop you.

The creature growls at you, refusing to drop you. It drags you through the cold snow, sticks hitting your face and scratching you. Finally, it drops your legs. You turn quickly and begin to scoot away on the floor.

This… this isn’t real. This can’t be real. You see a 9-foot-tall wolf looking humanoid. A werewolf? No, they aren’t real.

König takes a deep breath in, having you this close makes that sweet smell so much more intense. His eyes travel over your body. He needs to claim you. He steps closer as you begin to crawl backwards. A growl escapes his lips as he lunges forward, grasping your ankle tightly; screams going unheard.

His clawed hand comes up and rests on your chest, pressing you into the cold ground.  Moving slowly, his cold wet nose touches your neck and you wince. His tongue coming out and kicking you.

His hands grasp your winter coat, ripping his sharp claws through it. A burst of cold hits you as you try to fight back. You hit him in the chest and on his face. He grasps both of your wrists with one hand and holds you down.

With your coat torn open, the sweet scent gets stronger. He is getting closer. In a frenzy he continues to tear off your clothing. Your small body wiggling didn’t slow him one bit. Covered in goosebumps from the cold you feel his nose trail down your body until he lands between your legs.

Nuzzling his snout between your legs he begins to take deep breaths, it’s what he’s been chasing. He’s finally found his mate. The aroma of your cunt begins to make his cock hard. His fat tongue presses against the fabric of your blue cotton panties.

“No!” You try to kick him again.

His blacked-out eyes snap up at you and snarls before looking back down. Grabbing the hem of your underwear with his teeth, he jerks his head to the side; tearing your underwear off. You have half of a shirt on, your bra torn down the center. You’re basically naked, the snow still falling heavily. Other than the extreme heat from the werewolf, you’re freezing.

Nuzzling his snout between your legs, he begins to lap at your cold cunt. His first taste made him close his eyes; he has never tasted anything as good as you before. Your back arches, hands still restrained above your head. Squeezing your legs around him you let out a tiny moan. He responds with a low growl. All he can think of is getting your scent all over him and his all over you.

His hands move to your hips and pull you toward him. His hands wrapping around your thighs and spreading your legs wide apart to fit his body between them. His hips grind forward and rub his massive erection along your wet folds.

You look up at him helplessly as he leans forward to lick your face and neck. Slowly the fat head of his red cock begins to slip into your tiny little cunt. A loud groan leaves his lips as he feels you wrap around him. His claws dig into the supple flesh of your thighs as he rolls his hips into you at a rapid pace.

Hands grasping at the forest floor, grabbing leaves and pieces of your torn clothes. You try to crawl backwards but he stops you, growling as he pulls you closer to him again. He gives you a glare as his cock stretches you to the brink, you’re his now to breed with and you won’t be leaving until you’re bred.

He drops your legs and turns you over. Your naked body hits the snow and you shiver. His hands grab your hips and pull you to him so you’re on all fours with your ass in the air for him. His cock slips back in, making him let out a small growl. His balls slap against your clit as he bucks into you.

Moans leave your lips, feeling disgusted with yourself for feeling pleasure from this beast. He loves to hear your pathetic little sounds. König’s claws dig into your hips as he gets closer to cumming inside of you.

Panting loudly as he leans over and begins to bite your neck hard. You let out a pained moan, the bite feeling slightly pleasurable. Slowly, the pressure of the bite increased and it was almost like he was keeping you in place.

That’s when you feel his hands on your hips push you down more on his cock. Your pussy is already full. You squirm from the pain. The squirms don’t stop him. He is close now. His hands firmly pull you back again as he pushes forward and you let out a loud moan. Little did you know he was trying to knot you.

König was ready to cum. His teeth sink fully into your neck, causing you to bleed. He pulls you to him and pushes forward until it pops in- finally. Instantly, your pussy clenches around his bulbous knot. You’re so tight, his cock throbbing periodically as he cums deep inside of you. Making sure not even one drop escapes you.

His massive body keeps you warm as you lie there in pain from being so full. You try to move and he growls at you, still not moving his teeth from your neck.

Slowly, he moves his teeth from your neck. You try to move and lie down, but you can’t. You're attached to him. Looking back over your shoulder at him, he leans back in and licks your face before licking your neck where he marked you. Now you’re officially his mate.

He stays locked inside of you as he ejaculates until his knot slowly fades away. Almost an hour on the freezing cold floor. If it wasn’t for his body heat, you would have frozen to death by now. As König slowly pulls out, he looks down at your small body. His eyes focused on your stretched pussy. Gently, he lifts you into his arms and walks you to the barn. He would not let you go now that he has found you.

[meracyn]

The love you left behind

oneshot. gn reader, angst.

tw ; mentions of death

How long has it been already?

One month? Two? Is it five now? The days after the accident blurred together, it all happened too fast— You didn’t remember anymore.

You stood up, and walked over to where your lover sat on the soft grass, gazing out at the river, a pebble in hand. The sky above was coated in orange and pinkish hues, the sunset painting the clouds in a faint gray color mixed with purple, swaying in the cool breeze.

You stayed still, watching quietly. Even though you wanted to speak, you wouldn’t be heard. You were gone after all—

you were dead.

I wish things didn’t end this way.

It had become a routine; this silent watch over them—making sure they were doing well. In the beginning, it was hell. The shouts, the intense denial, the pain. The line that separated the living and the deceased wasn’t too wide.

You still held feelings, memories of your life throughout the years, still shed tears, even without a beating heart.

The pain was supposed to be gone after death. Why is it still there?

Loneliness, sorrow, love, too. It wasn’t different, it felt exactly the same. But it doesn’t matter, your feelings wouldn’t be able to reach them.

Unless we reunite in death.

As more time went by, you started to realize they were moving on— with someone else. Filling the void in their heart, forgetting about you. You could see it in their eyes, you could feel it even—the look of hope, of healing. The way their heart began to beat a bit quicker each time the two were met.

Can you still feel heartbreak even without a beating heart?

You finally had the answer.

You wanted to be angry. Hold a grudge against the person, shout and somehow reach out to your lover and be remembered again. Be loved again. But you couldn’t. You had no voice, nothing to carry your pain in.

Filled with dread, betrayal. You tried to accept their decision and let go, to be happy, but you couldn’t deny the growing feeling of resentment.

Is it selfish to wish that you never let me go?

You could only watch. Watch and wish. Wish that you were still a part of their love, be reassured and held in their arms once again. To be told “I love you” one last time.

But those wishes were unreciprocated. You were forgotten already, fading away in the back of their mind. The pain was unbearable, you weren’t in peace. The vow you once made after death to always protect them, ended up being broken.

You couldn’t watch anymore.

Either way, it wouldn’t have mattered if you still did or not.

After all, they were happy with someone else now.

— Aether, Izuku, Denki, Childe, Meguru, Gojo, Shoto, Tanaka, Tanjiro, Nagisa, Itto, Gorou, any of your favorite characters!

a/n; first time writing angst lmao btw theres so many characters i didnt know who to pick so i chose random but you guys obviously have bigger brain so choose whoever you think fits w/this, havent posted in almost a month too i just realized..ill go sleep rn 💀 and. pls send genshin reqs (but only ‘til sumeru im hella behind whoops)

[fool-tarnished]

"Remember me" - Chapter 2 - Kakashi Hatake x F!Reader

Pairing : Kakashi Hatake x Female!Reader If you want to read Yamato's version, you can find it here.

Warnings : Memory loss

Inspiration : Remember me - d4vd

Words : ~ 4000

A/N : Hello there ! Here's the second chapter. It might not follow the same exact timeline and events as the books but i still hope you will enjoy it. And sorry for the mistakes, I'm not a native english speaker.

← Previous Chapter - Next chapter →

“He’s surprising, and he’s progressing astonishingly fast.” Before you stood what seemed to be a training ground, from where you could observe a figure dressed in orange at a distance. You couldn’t clearly make out the person in question, nor the two others standing alongside them. One seemed to be wearing a pinkish outfit, and the other a blue-and-white one.

Your vision wasn’t perfectly clear, but at least you could distinguish the colors and hear sounds. They appeared to be sparring, likely at the request of the man beside you, who held a book in his right hand.

“We’ll be heading out on a mission soon, [Y/N]. It shouldn’t take long—it’s just a C-rank mission.” His voice was so gentle, so calm, so reassuring. He was much taller than you, but his face was obscured by a mask, and what you could see most clearly was his silver-grey hair. Finally, he glanced up from his book and turned his gaze toward you.

“You’re awfully quiet today. Are you worried about him?” he asked at last, stepping a little closer and closing his book. “I promise he’ll come back safe and sound.”

Who was he talking about? Turning your attention back to the training ground, you noticed that the three ninja had vanished. A breeze began to rise, and the once-blue sky had turned grey. Where had they gone?

A cold hand suddenly rested on your shoulder, and with a start, you turned to face the silver-haired man. His hand was covered in blood, his forehead protector slightly askew, and his uniform had shifted from light green to a deep crimson across most of his chest.

“Where were you? Where were you when they attacked us?” This voice no longer sounded like the one you’d heard earlier, and now you could see other figures lying motionless on the ground behind him. Frozen in place, you briefly recognized the orange outfit you had seen before, just as the man before you spoke again.

“You promised to protect him. You promised me you’d come back.” Closing your eyes and clutching your head in your hands, you tried to scream, but no sound escaped your lips. It was as if something had rendered you mute, as if something was preventing you from doing anything but witnessing the scene unfold before you.

After a few seconds, you decided to open your eyes again. They were all gone. There was nothing left but a vast field, dimly illuminated by the moonlight. Panting, you turned slightly, searching for a sign of anyone—or anything.

Until a much deeper voice echoed around you. “There’s no hope left, and those you care for will die because of you.” A masked man dressed in a long black cloak appeared before you. Only one eye was visible, but it was enough to send shivers down your spine.

“Consider the choice I’m about to offer you as a gift.” Silence fell, broken only by a soft chuckle escaping from under his mask.

“Will you take care of the Nine-Tails’ jinchūriki yourself? Or shall I do it for you?”

From this dark silhouette emerged a hand holding a kunai. As you took a hesitant step back, the man suddenly grabbed your face, forcing it toward the weapon, which he positioned just before your eyes.

“You’re going to have to choose—or I’ll choose for you.”

With a gasp, you opened your eyes abruptly and sat up in bed, struggling to calm your breathing. Holding your head in your hands, you didn’t even notice at first that you weren’t alone in the room. In truth, you didn’t even know where you were.

“You’re finally awake.”

Slowly turning your gaze toward the person who had just spoken, you let out a soft sigh.

“Where am I?” you asked, trying to shake off the vivid images lingering in your mind.

You’d been unconscious for several days, giving Tsunade enough time to examine your condition more closely. She hadn’t overlooked the blow to your head or the particularly high likelihood of memory loss that could result. Other findings in her analysis had also concerned her, but for now, it was time to assess how much of your memory had been affected.

“You’re in Konoha. You fainted when we found you.” She approached the chair to the right of your bed and sat down.

“You probably have a lot of questions, but first, I’d like you to tell me everything you remember. From the beginning. Then I’ll take the time to explain everything.”

Questions swirled in your mind, and you hesitated for a long moment before deciding to trust her and recount the events of the past few months in detail.

“I see. And everything before your time with that old woman is a blank to you?” she asked after hearing your story.

Nodding, you stared at your hands for a moment. “It feels like it’s the only thing I’ve ever known, and yet like my whole life has vanished.”

She made a sound of agreement, leaning back in her chair. “I imagine this won’t be easy for you. Neither relearning everything nor trusting us. But if you choose to trust us, we’ll help you regain your memory.” She paused briefly, observing your expression. “If you agree, I’ll ask a few… people from your past to help you with this. And I’ll leave you a notebook and pen in case anything comes back to you.”

Glancing at her, then at the notebook on the nightstand, you nodded. “And what about the treatment Yubaba was giving me?”

At this, you noticed her face tighten, as if masking some irritation. “I’ll provide you with a different treatment from now on. It will be more effective and help you see through this fog more clearly.”

“Hmm. And how is she?”

Tsunade rose, not meeting your eyes this time, and began walking toward the door. “She passed away a few days ago. There was nothing more we could do for her.”

And with those parting words, she left you alone in the room.

________________________________________

After a lengthy discussion with you, the Hokage had summoned former colleagues, primarily the sensei of Naruto’s friends, to inform them of the situation and stress the importance of keeping the information under wraps for the time being. She also took the opportunity to share her concerns regarding the results of your medical exams, suggesting that the issue might not be limited to simple memory loss. For this initial meeting, she had not summoned Kakashi. He was scheduled to meet her in a few hours, after she finished reviewing the latest mission requests.

The Copy Ninja arrived as requested, having spent most of his day with Naruto and Sakura. Between a few chapters of the newest volume of Icha Icha, he had thoroughly enjoyed his time reconnecting with his two students. He slipped away the moment Naruto mentioned the idea of him treating them to ramen and headed straight to the Hokage’s office.

“Lady Hokage?” he asked simply.

“Oh, Kakashi.” Tsunade lifted her head from her papers, setting her pen on the desk. “Everything went well with Naruto and Sakura?”

“They’ve improved tremendously. I have to admit—they’ve become quite strong.”

She offered a faint smile and stood, moving around her desk to lean against it as she faced him.

“I wanted to tell you something, Kakashi, before you hear it from someone else.”

The sensei regarded the Hokage without a word, waiting for her to continue.

“I sent a special ops team to search for [Y/N] a few months ago.”

The silver-haired ninja’s expression began to tighten, his mask doing little to conceal the tension in his face. His fists clenched in his pockets as dread crept in. He braced himself for the worst. Having already lost so many people he cared about, he found it hard to hope for a better outcome. But if something had happened to you… it would be one loss too many.

“She’s safe and sound. I’ve been taking care of her at the hospital…”

Tsunade noticed the visible relaxation in his features, and even the single eye visible through his mask seemed brighter. Though Kakashi didn’t express his emotions openly, she could tell he was both relieved and surprised. He likely hadn’t expected to hear such news.

“That’s… That’s excellent news.”

“But there are two issues. I wanted to speak with you directly about them before you decide to visit her.”

“Hmm?”

Kakashi’s thoughts raced. Relief washed over him at the confirmation of your safety and return to Konoha. Now, the only thing he wanted was for this conversation to end so he could see you. After living with only the memory of you for so long, every moment that delayed your reunion now felt like an unbearable torture.

“She suffered a severe head injury. She’s lost her memory.”

Kakashi’s gaze froze. He struggled to process the information.

“The second issue,” Tsunade continued, “is that she was essentially poisoned for several months. I was able to identify and neutralize the toxin during my tests, but… this was no ordinary concoction. It was designed not only to sustain her memory loss but also to cause severe headaches—and likely fainting spells. We need to remain vigilant. We don’t know the true intent behind this, or who orchestrated it. That’s why I urge caution, Kakashi.”

At these words, the Copy Ninja lowered his gaze to the floor. He needed a moment to process the flood of good and bad news. Your return filled him with joy, but your condition and the uncertainties surrounding it weighed heavily on him. Who had done this to you? Why? What were they planning?

“I know this is a lot to take in at once,” Tsunade said gently. “I’ll do my best to help her regain her memories. And… Naruto must not know about this for now.”

Kakashi remained silent for a few seconds before standing straight.

“When will you inform him that she’s back in Konoha?”

“If we can keep this under wraps until she regains some of her memories, that would be ideal. Naruto is too unpredictable, and I’m worried about how he might react to all of this.”

The silver-haired ninja nodded.

“Thank you, Lady Hokage.”

With those final words, he left the room, leaving Tsunade alone.

________________________________________

You were standing near a young boy with blond hair. He sat on a swing, looking despondent, his goggles pushed down to the lower part of his forehead. Incessant murmurs drifted toward the two of you, and the boy could no longer hide his sorrow.

“Don’t listen to what they’re saying,” you said, crouching down in front of him and attempting to give him the most reassuring smile you could muster. Seeing him like this seemed to tear you apart from the inside, and your eyes betrayed the depth of your emotions.

“Don’t forget what’s in here.” You pointed to the spot over his heart as you spoke, and he straightened slightly, meeting your gaze.

What was peculiar about this dream was that it was clearly you—your younger self—but at the same time, it wasn’t entirely you. You were observing the scene from afar. The young boy didn’t seem familiar, and yet, there was an undeniable closeness between you. As you continued watching your younger self trying to comfort the boy, silence settled over the moment.

“Wake up,” growled a voice, breaking through the quiet, as a hand suddenly pressed against your face.

Opening your eyes and sitting up in bed, you rubbed your face for a moment before letting out a sigh. Glancing around the room, you noticed it was bathed in an orange hue. The sun was setting, and it seemed you’d dozed off after Tsunade’s departure. Casting a brief glance at the window, you jumped in surprise upon seeing a man crouched there.

The Hokage must have left the window open when she left, but you certainly hadn’t expected anyone to perch there.

Frowning slightly, you took a moment to study the man before you. He had gray hair, a forehead protector covering one eye, and a mask obscuring most of his face. A book rested in his hand, but his gaze was fixed on you, silent and unwavering.

Despite your bewildered expression, he didn’t move an inch.

“What are you doing there? You know there’s a door to get in, right?”

At that, Kakashi gave you a slightly surprised look before letting out a soft chuckle, followed by a sigh. Deciding to enter the room properly, he closed the window behind him.

“Still as sharp-tongued as ever, I see,” he murmured, prompting you to raise an eyebrow in confusion.

Seeing your expression, he scratched the back of his head awkwardly.

“You’ve been sleeping for quite a while.”

Leaning back slightly, you frowned deeply.

“Were you watching me sleep?!”

“I was reading, too,” he replied casually.

You froze, your expression a mix of fear and disbelief. It reminded him of the old days—those countless times he’d shown up unannounced on your training field or terrace to invite you along or to test out new techniques with him. Starting over from the beginning was going to be hard, and it hurt him deeply. Perhaps the hardest part was hiding his true emotions from you: the gnawing desire to hold you close, the way he yearned for your face, your smile, your scent, your [Y/HC] hair, and even your sharp sense of humor.

“You’re kind of scaring me,” you muttered.

“No—No. It’s just that I wanted to—Hmm, how do I put this?”

“You’re not helping your case here.”

“Uh… The Hokage must have explained what’s happening to you, right?”

“Ah.” You exhaled deeply and visibly relaxed. “You’re one of the people supposed to help me get my memory back, aren’t you?”

He hesitated for a moment, tucking his book into his pocket.

“You could say that.”

There was something familiar about him—he reminded you of the figure you’d seen in the dream when you first arrived.

“And you are?”

Though Kakashi remained outwardly stoic, your question had struck a chord. Pretending as though you didn’t know each other—acting as if everything you’d shared had never existed—was agonizing.

“Hmm, I’m Kakashi. We… worked together for a few years,” he said, a faint smile forming under his mask as you closed your eyes for a moment.

“Oh. I see.” You paused briefly, while the copy ninja silently waited. “I’m sorry. Everything before waking up at that old woman’s place is completely gone from my memory.”

Kakashi moved toward the chair beside your bed, sitting down with his hands clasped, elbows resting on his knees.

“Would you mind telling me what you do remember?” he asked, his tone calm and steady. “After that, I’ll answer whatever you’d like to know, if you’re okay with it.”

There was a kindness and gentleness to him, albeit with a strange demeanor. Yet, he didn’t exude any sense of danger, and his presence didn’t bother you. Nodding, you began recounting the past few months you had spent with the old woman.

Despite the length of your story, Kakashi showed no signs of boredom. He listened intently, committing to memory the details that stood out as peculiar—not to question you, but to analyze the “who” and “why” behind your condition. Certain inconsistencies nagged at him, prompting a mental note to discuss them with Tsunade later. On your end, you were entirely unaware that anything was amiss, much less that the more troubling parts of your tale warranted skepticism.

Hearing your voice brought Kakashi immense solace. After years haunted by your absence and silence, he cherished this moment, even if it wasn’t unfolding the way he had hoped.

“You haven’t had even a fragment of your past return? Not even a vague memory?” he asked after you finished, his voice tinged with faint hope.

You hesitated, recalling the strange dream you’d had—a dream with a figure who vaguely resembled him. But did you want to share it? Perhaps it wasn’t a good idea, especially considering the direction that dream had taken.

“No… unfortunately not,” you sighed, meeting his gaze. “You mentioned earlier that we worked together. Did we know each other for a long time?”

Kakashi scratched the back of his head. Was he nervous? You found it hard to tell. He was calm overall, but certain gestures hinted at underlying emotions. It was difficult for you to pinpoint exactly what, as you’d only been speaking for a short time.

“Quite a while, yes,” he said simply.

You blinked, expecting a more elaborate answer. After a few seconds, you spoke again.

“Just ‘quite a while’?”

“Hmm?”

“Uh… Were we friends, then? Or just coworkers?”

“Oh.”

Kakashi paused, placing a hand on his chin in thought. You had asked the question so directly that he wasn’t sure how to answer truthfully. The truth was, your relationship had always defied easy definition. It danced on the line between friendship and something more, a connection that could shift with a single gesture or moment. One day, you were distant; the next, inseparable. How could he explain that to you, let alone summarize it when he himself had never managed to define it?

“I think I’ll give you that answer later,” he finally said.

What did he mean by that? Was he unable to say whether you were friends? Or was it something else entirely? The thought made your cheeks flush furiously, a reaction Kakashi didn’t miss. His visible eye widened in mild panic, and he waved his hands in front of him.

“Wait—that’s not what I meant! It’s just… It’s not something I can explain with a single word.”

“So, not just coworkers.”

“Not just coworkers, no,” he confirmed.

A brief silence followed before Kakashi cleared his throat and shifted the conversation.

“There’s someone else I need to tell you about. He won’t be as delicate when he sees you again.”

Intrigued, you focused all your attention on him.

“Let me tell you about Naruto.”

And so, you spent hours talking about the young ninja who was Kakashi’s student, and who, according to him, was like a younger brother to you. Discussing Naruto came more easily to Kakashi than addressing your own relationship. He hoped that you might remember a little about the boy before they broached the thornier subject of your shared past—a topic that was both painful and rich with memories Kakashi silently prayed you would recover someday.

________________________________________

Kakashi returned home late that evening. Seeing you again had lifted part of the burden he had carried since your absence—a deep, relentless pain that had built up over the years, piling onto so many others. But this time, the outcome was different. You were alive, and that simple fact was enough to unsettle him. Yet the thought that you had forgotten everything, that you didn’t remember him or your shared history, left him feeling lost. How could he possibly start over from scratch?

Sitting on his bed, he let out a long sigh. Should he wait a little longer before telling you everything? Perhaps it was better to remain silent, to give you time to find your footing—or maybe never tell you at all. Part of him wondered if you might actually be safer without the memories of him, of what you had shared, and of what you had seen in him.

His mind swirled with endless possibilities, weighed down by uncertainty. His heart, however, whispered insistently that he had to reclaim what you once had, the bond you had built together. The emotions he tried so hard to contain threatened to spill over, urging him to hope, to dream of rebuilding what fate seemed determined to erase.

Running a hand through his silver hair, Kakashi finally lay down, staring at the ceiling with eyes clouded by fatigue and doubt.

“Maybe it’s better to wait a little longer…” he murmured to himself.

He closed his eyes, trying to steady his breathing, to quiet the storm of his thoughts.

“If only you could remember everything about your past… and about us.”

In the stillness of the night, his words lingered, carrying a fragile mix of resignation and hope.

[foreingersgod]

Hii can I request juju Watkins x reader where they go on a cute date in the town

Date Night . JW

pairing: juju watkins x reader

synopsis: juju takes you out for your birthday :)

A/N: i’m pretty sure juju is from LA (to my knowledge) so that’s where this is taking place, thus the beach and all of that. that’s what came to mind so i’m sorry if it’s not exactly what you meant by ‘downtown’ !

NOT PROOF READ

I know there's lots of love in your heart

But, who you gonna give it to?

a warm summer breeze nipped at your bare skin as you walked down the cracked sidewalk. your hand was intertwined with your girlfriends, her thumb rubbing at your knuckles soothingly. her body, one that towered over yours by several inches, bumped into you playfully while she guided you through town.

it was your birthday today and juju insisted that you go out and do something for your special day. before you had met her, you didn’t really care much for your birthday. being the center of attention was never your thing and making a whole celebration about yourself didn’t seem amusing to you. but then you started dating juju and you learned very quickly that that mindset was going to change.

you had been with her since both of yours’ freshman year of high school and every birthday since, she would put together a special day just for you. you could tell, just from how much she articulately planned your birthday, that she had so much love in her heart, and it was all for you.

I'm sure there's lots of guys that you see

But, I swear they're not as cool as me

she was everything you had wanted in someone; your best friend, the best girlfriend, she was all you needed. and you meant it, you had been together for 4 (going on 5) years now and she still managed to make you feel like the only girl in the world.

like tonight, for this particular birthday, she took you on a small date downtown. while it might not seem like anything remarkable, it meant more than anything to you.

downtown was were juju had asked you out on a date for the first time. when you guys went out on a friday night with your mutual friends group and she pulled you aside. the two of you stood underneath a single street light when she nervously played with her fingers, working up the courage to ask you. it was where you had your first date, too. she took you to the movies at the center of downtown, she knew it was one of your favorite things to do. and it was where you shared your very first kiss. when it was a brisk spring evening and she was driving you home, but she was too eager and pulled over off the side of the road. she took your face into her hands and leaned over the driver seat to kiss you right there and then.

it might sound silly to most people when you would say the bustle of downtown was your favorite place, but it was true. every important moment with your girl happened right in the center of it all.

Girl, I can take you where you wanna go, if you wanna ride

We could watch a movie, hit the beach, or just chill and get high

“where are we headed to now, hm?” you looked up at her, grinning from ear to ear. your hair movies slightly as another waft of wind rushed past you.

the sun was in the early stages of setting in the distance. past all the old and worn down shops and enormous buildings, the sky was illuminating a lovely shade of pinkish orange. it reflected perfectly on juju, her beautiful skin quite literally glowing. you didn’t want to look away from her, she looked absolutely exquisite as she turned her gaze down to you.

“well we just finished the movie so i thought,” she looked upwards to ponder “we could go to your favorite ice cream place and walk down to the beach?”

you nodded in acceptance, releasing her hand and joining arms instead. you wanted to be as close to her as possible.

your favorite ice cream shop wasn’t far from where you currently were, but it did give you some time to enjoy a small walk through town. as you continued your evening stroll, you watched anything that caught your eye. you pointed out cute articles of clothing through store windows, telling her she would look so cute in them. you’d look at the other cute couples enjoying the busy nature of downtown on a saturday because you loved to people watch. you’d laugh when juju cracked a joke, always the corniest ones because she knew they would make you fold over giggling. the ice cream shop was nearly forgotten as you were entranced in your girlfriend’s company.

soon enough it appeared around the corner of a brickwork building. it was small and built with tattered white boards, the inside shining a warm light and displaying a few strangling customers.

“what’re you gonna get this time, baby” she asked, arms folded and looking at todays flavors. juju, no matter how many times you came here, never knew what kind she wanted. you on the other hand, knew exactly what you were gonna order.

“i’m thinking cake batter, tonight” you pointed out to her “what about you?”

“how does cookies and cream sound?”

“good, but it’s your ice cream not mine” you chuckled.

“yea, but you always eat some of mine anyways” she smirked, side eyeing you jokingly.

you rolled your eyes back, cheeks heating up with a rosy blush. she knew you too well. it was true, you always managed to sneak bites of her ice cream after finishing yours first.

“yea ok whatever” you said as she kissed your cheek in a false attempt to apologize.

once the very polite employee finished scooping your ice cream, juju paid despite you trying to put your card into the reader. not only was she not about to let you pay on your birthday, but she’d never take you out somewhere without rightfully paying herself.

cones in hand, ice cream dripping down the sides, juju led you out of the parlor and back down the street. this time farther, heading down to the beach. you were almost skipping with excitement as you dragged her down the sidewalk.

And we can do whatever you wanna do

Ooh, oh, oh, oh

sand piled in between your bare toes, samoa warm sensation to the bottoms on your feet. you both kicked off your shoes and socks to abandon them on the concrete as you raced each other to the shoreline. your ice cream was half gone by the time you reached where the icy water met the dampened sand, sun now even lower than it was before. the two of you made yourselves comfortable on the sand, sitting side by side with your knees pulled up to your chests.

“how’s the cookies and cream?” you questioned, taking the last bite of your waffle cone.

“really good,” she took a small bite of hers “…you want to try it, don’t you?”

you licked your lip’s teasingly, leaning over to her to try it. she laughed, scolding you for taking too big of a bite (like you always did). but she didn’t care, she’d let you eat the whole thing before she’d get mad at you.

when the ice cream was finally finished and your hands were still faintly sticky, you scooted closer to juju, hips touching and her arm instinctively wrapping around your shoulders. you let your head fall against her shoulder and nuzzled into her collarbone. the sounds of the waves lulled you into a state of relaxation as you both sat in welcomed silence. it wasn’t often you got a spot like this all to yourselves so you enjoyed the quiet while you could.

you felt her lips press a kiss to the top of your head, her breath hot against your scalp. eyes fluttering closed in satisfaction, you hummed, sitting back up to steal a real one from her. your lips caught hers gently, sharing a sweet kiss. her hand found its way to your jaw to cradle it carefully as she pulled you in even deeper.

“d’you have a good birthday?” she exhaled, looking into your eyes deeply. she asked that every time and you answered just the just the same.

“i loved it” you beamed “the best day ever”

she ran her fingers through your hair suddenly, preventing the wind from dragging it into your face, “i’m glad, i love you so much, YN”

“i love you, too” you resumed your heads position on her shoulder, sighing constantly as you overlooked the perfect ending to the perfect day “so much”

Baby, I want some of your love

Your love (your love), your love

Baby (baby), can I have some of your love

Your love, your love

༶•┈┈୨♡୧┈┈•༶

A/N: this was a little rushed but i hope you like it <3

[izvmimi]

the god of the riverbanks takes his sacrifices drowned - young girls, once sweet, bright-eyed and naïve in the morning sun, in exchange for bountiful harvests, rain and the promise of floods kept at bay. there are rumors that they turn up unaccompanied and unharmed in villages afar, hair just slightly damp and smelling as fresh as the sea, with their memories lost yet their smiles forever just as cheerful as the jade green dragon himself who glides just below the visible depth of the wide seas.

in contrast, the god of the skies, of sun and snow, is thought to take his sacrifices burned at the stake and yet no one has seen their bodies past their first cries and coughs. young women with strange burns they do not remember abound in a country far west; perhaps their voices reach the heavens and he shows mercy towards them, allowing them to ride on his back that glitters with a mosaic of white and red scales, and see the world from above, their scars bold but their minds purged of their pasts by flame and soothed by gentle ice.

however, nothing will give you solace, because you are to be sacrificed to the god of the mountains and the earth, who is war and strife itself. the blindfold that keeps you helpless is thick, the ropes on your wrists tight and cutting into your skin. the god offers your village protection from calamity and invasion; he promises your country strength and thus your gift is necessary.

you doubt you'd be a worthy meal but there was no one else to offer up, and you hope he swallows you up quickly; the pain could be immense, but not worse than the pain in your weary heart. your chest aches as you think of your family, aches further when you realize you will never have the chance to find purpose or find love.

the mountains are still and quiet as you wait, bound helplessly to the stone shrine. there is no escape.

time passes both slow and fast as you breathe in deep and exhale half as long until your chest hurts with the stacking of breath expanding your weary lungs.

you hear a sigh.

"sick of this shit."

your eyes widen at the gruffness of the man's voice, but you can see nothing. he tuts, and you can hear a presence move around you, the stinging warmth of a flame too close to the sensitive skin of the underside of your arms. the same sensation is quickly felt in your bound legs before you before they are free.

the blindfold falls and you're staring into a set of red, inhuman eyes. vertical slits. dragon eyes.

but your visitor is a man, somewhat, even if he is practically three times your size. your breath holds as you take more of him in, sharp eyes and even sharper cheekbones, golden hair, a gaze that is less curiosity and more exasperation. there is a soft glow to his skin despite the dusky overtone of the sky and his lips are soft appearing and pinkish red, almost feminine, in contrast to the soft bristle of fair, coarse hair on his chin. smoke still comes from the corner of his mouth as he speaks, and you see flashes of fanged teeth intermittently.

"i'm taking you to the other side of the mountain, got it?" he asks.

it's a statement that is given like an order and you're too dumbfounded to speak, forgetting how to make use of your no longer bound arms and legs.

"i won't eat you. got it?" he repeats, louder. your head swims.

he doesn't wait for your answer regardless, and his wings spread - deep crimson, orange and yellow, brilliant like the crackles of a large bonfire. you're dragged into his arms without protest and cradled like a small child despite his annoyed expression, you take to the skies, your fate uncertain.

[peonypaint]

various evening skies

[ ID: four digital paintings of sunsets. the first shows a dark ground flat landscape and the sky above it, the clouds are pinkish orange and purple, and behind the clouds are patches of darker blue sky with a single star beginning to shine. the second and third drawing are both smaller close up of segments of a sunset, both colored with pinks, purples, and blues. the fourth drawing shows a sunset with rays of light shining through the clouds to light up the sky. the upper part of the painting is darker and done in purples while the lower part of the drawing is brighter, with more warm colors and a blue sky behind the clouds. /END ID]

[neopronouns]

flag id: two flags with 5 stripes. the left flag's stripes are medium dark faded pinkish-purple, faded purplish-pink, light seafoam green, very light sky blue, and light sky blue. the right flag's stripes are medium dark faded purple, soft indigo, light orange, very light red-pink, and light red-pink. end id.

banner id: a 1600x200 teal banner with the words ‘please read my dni before interacting. those on my / dni may still use my terms, so do not recoin them.’ in large white text in the center. the text takes up two lines, split at the slash. end id.

lavenboy | violegirl

lavenboy: a queerly feminine boy; someone who both considers themselves male and has some significant connection to queer femininity, either in their gender or expression; a boy aligned with queer femininity; an umbrella term for all identities that involve being both male and queerly feminine

violegirl: a queerly masculine girl; someone who both considers themselves female and has some significant connection to queer masculinity, either in their gender or expression; a girl aligned with queer masculinity; an umbrella term for all identities that involve being both female and queerly masculine

[pt: lavenboy: a queerly feminine boy; someone who both considers themselves male and has some significant connection to queer femininity, either in their gender or expression; a boy aligned with queer femininity; an umbrella term for all identities that involve being both male and queerly feminine

violegirl: a queerly masculine girl; someone who both considers themselves female and has some significant connection to queer masculinity, either in their gender or expression; a girl aligned with queer masculinity; an umbrella term for all identities that involve being both female and queerly masculine. end pt]

anon asked for a term like azurgirl but for queer masculinity, so i figured i'd do a rosboy term as well!

the flags are based on the rosboy and azurgirl flags with the top three stripes of each adjusted to represent queer femininity/masculinity. for lavenboy, i added a shade of mint and adjusted the pink and purple to be closer in shade; for violegirl, i added a shade of soft orange (since that's in both the butch and bear flags) and adjusted the blues to indigos.

since 'ros' and 'azur' were inspired by both flowers (roses and azures) and colors (pink and blue), i used the names of flowers associated with queerness whose names are also used as colors, lavender and violet!

tags: @radiomogai, @liom-archive, @macchiane, @genderstarbucks, @sugar-and-vice-mogai

tags cont: @freezingnarc, @skrimbliest, @seraphtrix, @fem-mogai

dni link

[honorarysimp]

New York State of Mind

series masterlist

day 1

New York City.

The city that never sleeps is winding down for the night, the hustle and bustle of the day giving way to a softer, quieter atmosphere. The reflection of the sunset on the glass windows of the buildings creates a mesmerizing display of light and color, dancing across the streets below. Here and there people still move about, making their way home from work or heading out for the evening.

The city seems to be taking a moment to breathe, enjoying this brief interlude of peace as lastcasting warm orange glows across the towering skyscrapers.

You’re exhausted. Dog tired. It took two days to get from California to New York, taking into account all the pit stops for varying reasons, both of you catching some sleep at the hotel stop half way through. But god, it’s good to be back home, and you realize this as you maneuver the car through traffic.

Tara is asleep in the passenger seat, one of your hoodies tucked underneath her head as a makeshift pillow, her knees pulled up to her chest as she remains blissfully unaware of reality.

You hate to wake her, because even though you’re use to the traveling and driving, Tara is not.

But she threatened your life prior to her falling asleep, insisting you do so she could take in the city for the first time.

You reach over and rest a hand on her arm, thumb gently trying to coax her awake, “hey, you’re gonna miss sunset” you says gently, which earns you a sleepy grumble as she swats your hand away blindly.

That makes you laugh, sitting back into your seat just as Tara sits up and stretches, running her fingers through her hair as she blinks the remnants of slumber from her dazed mind.

“What-“

Instantly she falls quiet, now fully awake as she peers through the window.

Tara takes in the sight of the bright orange disk of the sun is slowly making its descent from the sky, the light making a warm and bright atmosphere as it shone all throughout the city. It bounced off the reflective windows, casting streaks across the buildings. The light was getting dimmer by the minute, the clouds gaining a more pinkish hue as the sun got closer to disappearing behind the skyline.

Shadows were starting to fill the alleys and crevices as the sun continued its slow journey towards the horizon, the air turning increasingly colder with the dimming of its light.

“Holy shit”.

“Welcome to New York” you say quietly, not giving much attention to the buildings anymore as you instead, take in her awed expression.

The drive to your place is about as quick as you expected, the traffic is something you didn’t miss. But Tara seems happy, watching and soaking in everything. It is a lot, after all, so you don’t blame her.

You only relax once you get the car into the parking garage, the both of you in a daze as you head for the elevator.

“Fuck the bags, we’ll get them later” was all Tara had to say for you to agree without question. It’s a fairly safe area, you’d like to think, but then again you’ve learned nothing is ever as it seems.

But you’re far too tired to give a shit right now.

So when you make it to your apartment, you unlock the door and let Tara walk inside first. Instinctively you kick your shoes off and head down the little hall that leads to the rest of your apartment, only, Tara is paused at the opening.

The apartment is a nice size for New York standards, with bare white walls and open spaces, and a large window that extended from the ceiling to floor. The city skyline was visible from the window, the sun setting on the horizon to the west. The apartment was tastefully furnished, but there was not any personal touches anywhere in it. It was a nice, but slightly cold and sterile, living space.

“In my defense, I moved in here two months before I left for Woodsboro” you mumble sheepishly, coming up behind her and wrapping your arms around her waist. Tara hums, instantly sinking back into you, and when her head drops back to your shoulder you can’t help but rest your own against hers.

“It’s yours, so it’s perfect”.

You smile, taking a step forward while keeping her in your arms, Tara automatically follows as you guide her to the bedroom.

“Tour later. Sleep now.”

Tara yawns, but smiles softly after, “you better be showing me to the guest bedroom”.

“Unfortunately, there’s only my bed here, I hope that won’t inconvenience you.”

You don’t even bother turning on the light, the last streaks of orange and red giving you just enough visibility to make out the outline of the mattress. To which, Tara promptly drops down on to, pulling you with her. You hear two soft thumps before Tara curls herself against you, probably her shoes hitting the hardwood floor.

“Fuck, don’t wake me up for two days” Tara mumbles as her hand slips under your shirt, fingers curling around your side as she tugs you closer. You exhale and wrap your arms around her, sleep already pulling at your consciousness.

“Hibernation sounds nice” you reply quietly, falling asleep to the sound of her breaths evening out, and the warmth of her body against yours.

Not even the city that never sleeps could keep you awake, the final streams of light dissipating and leaving the room in a comforting darkness.

day 3

The city is vast, it’s loud, and it’s busy.

A contrast to what Tara is use to, having spent most her life in Woodsboro, not even when she went to the city to get her EMT certification compares to this.

God, but she is loving this kind of chaos.

It was overwhelming at first, but seeing you move through the streets and around people like second nature, switching between holding her hand or having your arm around her.

It’s hard not to feel giddy, and Tara hates it, because she is not that kind of girl.

You’ve made plans to go sightsee today, a few marker spots that Tara finds herself genuinely excited for. The tallest building in the country, Central Park, Time Square to name a few.

But when you bring Tara into what you’ve named your “favorite coffee shop in the world”, she suddenly finds herself thinking this is already going to be her favorite pace you’ve taken her. And it’s not even a highlight tourist go-to.

It’s a hole in the wall cafe, spacious on the inside, and it’s got this… energy that instantly has Tara feeling homesick. But in a good way, it makes her smile as her eyes take in the interior.

The coffee shop is a cozy space with walls painted a dark green color. The wooden floor darkly stained, and the furniture a mix of darkly varnished oak and wrought iron. The walls were lined with dark wooden bookshelves, the air thick with the aromatic scent of freshly ground coffee.

The coffee bar itself was a long, gleaming counter, filled with a variety of coffee beans and a vintage espresso machine. The wall behind it lined with a variety of coffee beans and a menu with an array of coffee drinks. The ambiance was a mix of soft and intimate, with low lighting and a warm and inviting atmosphere.

The sound of steamers, coffee being ground, and soft music filled the air. Soft yellow lighting illuminated the space, casting a homey glow in the coffee shop.

Tara is in love.

Approaching the bar, the barista behind the counter instantly lights up at the sight of you.

“You’re a sight for sore eyes! Back in town for a bit?” the barista asks with a wide, familiar smile, which makes Tara look between you in curiosity.

“Showing my girlfriend around, had to bring her by” you say with a proud smile, your eyes finding hers, a subtle squeeze of your fingers that are laced between hers makes her chest ache pleasantly.

The barista then looks to Tara kindly, “first time in New York?”

That makes Tara flush, but she tries to play it off with a shrug as she tucks a stray strand of hair behind her ear “yeah, you could say that”.

“Well whatever you want, it’s on the house, as usual” the barista says with a nod, already grabbing a cup and writing down what Tara is safe to assume - your usual.

It’s only after Tara gives her order, followed by a thank you, when she looks to you in bewilderment.

“On the house? As usual? Do I even want to ask?”

You lean in, giving her hand a small tug, which has her meeting you half way for a soft lingering kiss.

“I know the owner is all”.

“Friend of yours?”

“We’re practically family”.

day 4

The kitchen table is scattered with Polaroids of Tara, a variety of location and purpose.

Tara thought it a good idea, you were quick to claim it as yours.

The sweetest melody filled the apartment, in time with the steadfast and deliberate movement of your tongue.

One of the photos is her in the passenger seat of your car, water bottle raise to her lips as she smiles around the rim, pretending not to notice. It’s the first of them all, if you remember correctly.

Syrup tasting of the sweetest nectar coats your tongue as it parts through soft flesh, a soft thump of something solid against hard wood can be heard. But muffled by the warmth on either side of your head.

Another photo, Tara standing with one arm up, hand blocking the sun from her eyes as she stands amongst the Great Salt Lake Desert. Still, you’re not sure why she insisted you stop, but you’ve learned to never deny her.

Fingers thread through your hair, those black painted nails gently scraping in a silent gesture of encouragement. Your lips caress fruit forbidden, gently sucking and rolling your tongue in turn, the pressure around your head increases. But even then, you distinctly hear her voice raise an octave.

Your favorite photo by far is from Chicago, Illinois. Of all places, there is where a butterfly had grown fond of Tara, her hands gently cupped together as it perches on her thumb. Those pretty orange and yellow wings don’t compare to that awed smile that graces her lips.

Like biting into a peach, your head spins as ambrosia fills your mouth just as she goes taut and rigid, beautiful symphony surpassing its apex and shifting into a slur of curses and garbled swears.

The most recent one, in New York, is simply Tara gazing up with lights of all colors reflecting in those captivating brown eyes. It’s night, on Time Square, and you’re fairly certain this is the only photo she didn’t see you take.

You savor, relish, linger, as long as she needs until she’s completely undone. And as you withdrawal, a smile tugs at your lips.

Amongst the photos is Tara herself, splayed out across your table, flustered and panting and the prettiest haze in her eyes. When they find yours, she automatically mirrors your smile, which has you leaning forward.

Her fingers part from your hair in opt of tenderly cupping your jaw, shakily leaning up off the table just enough to meet you for a messy, but intimate kiss. And when her tongue glides against your bottom lip, you part them just so she will understand why you’ve grown addicted to the taste of her.

This table, a momentary alter, for the woman you’d die for. The woman you surrender yourself to. The woman that is everything to you.

“I love you” you whisper against her lips, an oath, devotion.

You feel her smile, her nose softly nuzzling yours just as her thumb delicately traces your cheekbone, “I love you”.

To you she is a goddess, and you, worshiper.

day 5

“Yeah, no, you’re kidding yourself if you think you’re fucking going anywhere”.

It’s far too amusing watching you in a panic, tearing the cushions off the couch as you search for your tape recorder.

You’d gotten an email for a “quick job” at the precinct, to assist on a case currently underway, as you so vaguely put. So naturally when you stepped out of the room, Tara swiped it and hid it.

You’ll never leave without it, and thus, gives Tara the time she needs to remind you of all the reasons you won’t be leaving.

Not to mention, Tara is determined to win this. “You promised this two weeks would be about us” she points out, crossing her arms and pinning you with a glare you haven’t noticed yet.

“I can’t say no to work” you say once more, ducking down to look under the couch.

“Yes you can, it’s so simple. It’s literally one vowel”.

“Tara it’s work, it’s what pays-“

“Don’t you bullshit me, I know for a fact Sidney overcompensated you, so you’d better have a plausible fucking excuse for trying to abandon me.”

It’s a low blow, but it gets Tara the reaction she wants.

That makes you sit up, and from where Tara is standing she has to force herself to keep a straight face. As the way your head pops up just over the top of the couch with that look of irritation, only amuses her further.

“Where is it Tara” you say as you stand, your tone unyielding as you begin to crawl over the couch.

“Up your ass, is where” Tara counters, circling the couch before you can reach her.

“Babe-“

“Don’t ‘babe’ me, you’ve been revoked of your title until you promise me you aren’t going.”

A stare off ensues, your hands gripping the back of the couch as she stands opposite of you, arms still crossed. You’re breaking, fighting back a smile, and Tara is far better with her poker face than you.

“You’re. Not. Going.”

“I have to work, I can’t just say no” you sigh, shoulders starting to deflate, which is a signal to Tara she’s most definitely got you right where she wants you.

“Yes you can” Tara says as she uncrosses her arms, walking forward and dropping to her knees on the couch in front of you, purposefully looking up at you under hooded eyes and smiling softly, “like this”.

And in one swift movement, Tara tilts her head up and kisses you slowly. Her hands curl into the fabric of your shirt, tugging you forward gently. Seducing, enticing, whatever you want to call it. You aren’t leaving.

And from the way you lean forward into her, letting her tug you over the couch and down on to the messily placed cushions, you know it too.

“You’re a bad influence” you say quietly, she silences you by grazing her teeth against your bottom lip.

“Come on, work can wait” Tara runs her hands up your chest, her fingers loosely curling around the back of your neck as she pulls back just enough to meet your gaze.

“You’re seriously going to leave me here, alone, in your apartment without you? When I came all this way just for you?”

Hook, and sinker.

Tara sees the fight to hold yourself responsible shatter, especially when she knows how much you can’t argue against her statement.

“Fuck, okay, yeah you’re right” you sigh, your head dropping to her shoulder.

Tara doesn’t even try to stifle her triumphant laugh, tugging you down to lay next to her as she blindly reaches for the remote. The item hastily discarded on the floor in your search for your tape recorder.

Which, you seem to have completely forgotten about, no thanks to Tara.

You will reap minor consequences later, but fuck it, Tara wins.

day 6

“Please don’t laugh, this is serious, Tara”.

She bites her lip, watching you carefully as you shift from the countertop by the sink to the adjacent one next to the stove, you’re just so goddamn endearing.

It’s hard not to watch you these days, the little mannerisms you have as you fidget about. Especially when you’re cooking. The way you pop your knuckles amidst a temporary pause, train of thought escaping you.

The way your tongue sticks out just the slightest from the right corner of your mouth when you’re concentrating far too hard. That subtle small smile that tugs at your lips as your hands move with practiced fluidity.

Tara wishes she could say she was paying attention to what you’re saying, what you’re doing, but she pretty much tuned out after you told her this was a recipe your best friend’s mom had taught you back in your adolescence.

It’s not her fault she finds you captivating when you’re just being yourself, you’re definitely talking to her and she’s definitely offering a small nod of acknowledgement here and there.

Only when you swipe a bit of sauce on to your finger and offer it to her, does Tara snap out of her thoughts. Recoiling back a from where her chin had been rested on her balled fists, elbows slipping off the counter.

“Oh god no, I don’t know where those fingers have been” Tara says as she makes a face, which only makes you let out a belly laugh that causes Tara’s heart to flutter.

“Tara you know exactly where these fingers have been” you say with innuendo, giving her an expectant look as you offer the sample of sauce gathered on your finger.

“Exactly.”

You scoff, rolling your eyes playfully and stepping away, bringing your finger to your own mouth “I did wash them before I started cooking, not that it matters”.

Tara bites back a smile, she can’t help it, its habit. But god it’s hard when you’re always doing the most mundane or stupidest shit that has her fighting off the involuntary action.

Just as you’re filling both plates with pasta and what you call “garlic bread”, Tara told you butter and garlic salt on toast doesn’t count, she decides to approach a topic she’s been trying to find a way to address in the most subtle way possible.

Then again, Tara has never been good at that.

“Baby I love you, but I need human interaction, preferably with the people that love you”.

The sudden statement has you pausing, looking over to her with an expression that’s a mixture of emotions.

“You’ve got me, isn’t that enough?” You say with a half smile as you continue scooping pasta on to the plates.

Expected of you, that tiptoe of a reply. You’re good at it and Tara gives you props, but she knows if she asks straightforward that you won’t be able to tell her no. Only she doesn’t want to have to ask, because that’s not the point.

The point should be that you want to introduce her to the people in your life. But you’re hesitant, why Tara still isn’t sure, however considering her relationship with her own parents. Tara is the last to judge.

“You’re more than enough, but it’s my turn to know you. Is that so hard to believe?”

That makes you pause, and this is one of those moments Tara finds herself prideful with how well she’s learned to read you. How you register she’s throwing your own words back at you, the smile that breaks out across your face tells her it all.

“Okay. I’m hearing you. You’re right” you sigh softly, doing that thing where you square your shoulders when you’re getting serious, “how about tomorrow? It’s a weekend day? I’m sure everyone will be free”.

It’s this moment that Tara’s excitement instantly shifts into dread as she realizes she’s actually going to meet the people that matter to you. Your people.

Now, Tara is a people person, she deals with people all the time with what she does for a living. The hardest of them to the most broken.

But this? This terrifies her, and even when you lean in to press the softest of kisses to her temple, her insides churn uneasily.

What if they don’t approve?

Her thoughts are interrupted by the sound of a wine bottle popping, making Tara’s eyes snap over to where you’re pouring two glasses. You offer her one, to which she gladly takes, a soft clink following the two glasses meeting. That fucking smile gets her every time. So full of love.

And then Tara comes to a second realization, that she doesn’t care.

Because having you? Tara needs nothing more.

day 7

You’d think for a Saturday, the pub would be packed.

The pub itself is a cozy and lively space, with a warm and inviting atmosphere. It’s larger than a typical small town bar, with a bar on one end and a few round tables scattered around the space. The walls were painted a deep red color, and the floor was made of dark wood. Soft, warm lighting cast from lights woven through the wooden rafters along the ceiling, and a small corner of the space was set up with a pool table. Chatter and laughter fills the space as a handful of patrons mill about drinking.

Tara can say with pride she’s finally met three of your childhood friends.

So far, Anika is her favorite. She’s full of life, positivity, and an abundance of embarrassing stories from your younger years. You two banter back and forth like siblings, your incessant desire to remind her you’re two months older. Anika quick to remind you who made sure you actually took care of yourself so that you somewhat functioned like a normal human being.

Tara doesn’t even try to hide her smile.

Ethan is quiet, but not in a bad way, more of a wallflower. His comments are an attempt to insert himself into conversation, Tara takes note of the way you always give his shoulder a reassuring pat paired with a wide smile. How he eases, his discomfort by the public space alleviating.

To balance the group, is Quinn, the wild card. From observation Tara can tell she’s the polar opposite of her brother Ethan. When she isn’t eyeing any man or woman she considers attractive that walks into the pub, the redhead is assessing Tara with a subtle smirk. A flirt through and through without question. She’s charismatic, quick witted, and a bit air headed.

The dynamic works, oddly enough, and Tara lives for it. Being present, seeing you with your friends, and she can tell how much they care for you. It’s clear you’ve all been through a lot together, which only deepens her curiosity on your past further.

You don’t talk about it, this is the closest taste to understanding what makes you who you are that Tara has ever come.

But that’s a question for another time, perhaps in the privacy of just the two of you.

When your laughter rings out, full of warmth and from your belly, Tara’s smile softens. You look so happy, so complete, and when your eyes meet she has one simple thought.

Tara is completely, stupidly, in love with you.

She isn’t sure when she fell, and it’s not like she didn’t already figure as much, but it’s without a doubt now.

And then comes the question she’d been waiting for all night.

“So how did you two meet?” it’s Ethan that asks, boyish grin and curiosity in his expression.

You and Tara share a look, having already made an agreement prior not to mention the… darker details.

“Well, I asked her for drinks-“

“Oh bullshit, that’s not how it started and you know it” Tara instantly cuts you off, grinning as you give her an accusing look, which only makes your friends laugh.

“Tell us how it really went Tara, god knows your local lover over here was probably a blubbering mess” Anika comments, which instantly has you trying to voice a rebuke.

Tara quickly slaps a hand over your mouth, a wicked grin growing across her face “this one was hopeless from the start, but it’s not like I made it easy-“

You swat her hand away, jumping on it with a dramatic scoff, “oh come on I totally wooed you with my charm and pool playing skills-“

“You didn’t win once”.

“Yeah but-“

“And you quit smoking cigarettes because I told you about my asthma.”

That has all three of your friends in disbelief, Anika praising Tara for getting you to quit. Quinn is instantly giving you shit for buckling so quick, and Ethan is completely flabbergasted.

“No fucking way. Did you freeze hell over or something?”

Tara grins smugly, ignoring the way you’re sputtering out, slowly giving up trying to defend yourself.

“You were snatching my cigarettes from me for days, don’t act like you didn’t-“

“Just admit it, you were down bad. I only had to mention it once”.

You suddenly smile, giving her a look that sends a small shiver down her spine, “yeah well you acted like you didn’t care but you just couldn’t help yourself”.

Okay, true, but Tara isn’t backing down.

She reaches up and grabs your face with one hand, squishing your cheeks, making your face scrunch in a cute way.

“Come on, with this face? I was bound to cave eventually.”

It makes everyone laugh harder than they should, and you smile more than you should, but when she kisses you it’s full of love.

It’s always been love, even if it took you both some time to get there.

“You better keep her or I’m disowning you”.

The kiss breaks, you huff in irritation, Tara laughs brightly as she leans against you.

“Oh my god, fuck off, Anika”.

day 9

The bathroom is dimly lit by a few tall candles placed around the space, casting a soft and warm glow in the room.

The air was filled with the scent of the candles, a compilation of different fragrances mixed together. The space felt secluded and cozy, on the bathroom counter is your vinyl record player, the sweet lyrics of The Louvre playing over the faint sound of the candles crackling.

The lighting isn’t all that makes the intimate atmosphere, the small bath was filled to the brim with warm, bubbly water, creating a cozy space for the two of you within. The tub is narrow, forcing you to be close to one another as you relax in the water. Despite the tight quarters, you’re comfortable together, the clumps of suds providing the only barrier on the water surface.

Tara is currently nestled between your legs, her back flush to your front. You’re fitted together perfectly, always perfectly, it’s almost cliché to conclude you had to have been made for each other.

Her eyes are closed, hair pulled back into a messy bun as she relaxes her head back into the crook of your neck. If it weren’t for the way her thumb gently caresses your knuckles where your fingers are interlocked, you’d be quick to assume she’d fallen asleep.

You hum along quietly to the music, your free hand coming up to absently tuck a strand of her hair out of her face and behind her ear. The corners of her mouth twitch, and she leans back into you further. If that is at all possible.

“I could get use to this” Tara murmurs after a lapse of silence, the soft words filling the tranquility.

“Me too” you whisper against the curve of her ear, your heart fluttering as you notice small goosebumps form on what skin you can see. Even when surrounded by the warm water the tub provides.

It’s moments like this, with Tara, that make you wonder if this was all you’d ever needed your whole life. Just life, with her.

That thought alone, makes you far more grateful that you made the choices you did, that led you to Tara in the first place.

Having Tara here in New York, away from the otherworldly chaos, no expectations or unavoidable demands from anything or anyone.

It makes you appreciate even the hard times, and the lessons it taught you. Never did you think you’d ever be this happy, this at peace.

You’re completely, unabashedly, in love with her.

If you’re being honest with yourself, you don’t think it can get better than this.

day 10

Tara and Anika are bonding over how you need decorations, that your apartment is too bland.

You aren’t sure whether this is a good thing or not.

“You’re fucked, bud” Ethan comments as he lays down a red nine amongst the discard pile laying in the middle of your coffee table.

“What’s mine is hers” you say with a ghost of a smile, dropping a red four.

Quinn snorts in amusement from your left, placing a green four on top of your card which has both you and Ethan groaning.

“Uno, also, I don’t think I’ve ever seen you like this with a girl before” Quinn says as she shoots you a smirk just as Ethan drops a green draw two, “and that’s saying a lot all considering I’ve never seen you serious with anyone”.

You roll your eyes, pulling from the draw deck and sighing with relief as you drop the green eight you’d gotten.

“Like you have room to talk, you haven’t even been in a relationship-“

Ethan snickers when Quinn grabs a pillow off the couch and smacks you in the back of the head with it, making you suck in air through your teeth as you rip the pillow from her.

Raising it, ready to strike-

“Dont you dare, behave” you hear Anika scold, making you pause mid-movement, shooting her a glare that doesn’t even hold light to the one you’re receiving from her.

The fact Tara is hiding a laugh behind her hand doesn’t help either.

“How about you stop jumping on my case, huh? My apartment is fine the way it is” you shoot towards the both of them, squaring your shoulders.

“You need life in here, some art on the walls won’t kill you” Tara tries to add in, to which Quinn follows up with her own opinion.

As always.

“I agree, these walls are as bland as Ethan’s dating life-“

You swing the pillow down on Quinn, cutting her sentence off as she yelps at the abrupt flop of the pillow against the side of her head.

“CHILDREN” Anika groans, Tara laughing as she watches you and Quinn start shoving at each other while Ethan argues his case on his dating life.

It falls on deaf ears.

“-what’s the point in decorating if I might move to Woodsboro to be with Tara, anyways” you say abruptly, which has Quinn stop on her assaults to look over to the woman in question. Everyone does.

Tara however, doesn’t miss a beat as she holds your gaze, expression unreadable as she raise one singular eyebrow.

“And if I decide I want to move to New York?”

A subtle tension fills the apartment, not even Quinn has anything to say for once.

“You guys joining in on this now? Or what?” Ethan cuts the silence with his effort to change the subject, and for once it helps as Anika and Tara head over to jump in on the card game.

Quinn shoots you a look as she regathers the cards, but you don’t have time to wonder what it means as Tara drops down to sit on the ground next to you. Purposefully bumping her shoulder into yours harder than necessary.

You whip your head around, jaw set and eyes narrowed playfully. Even when she’s trying to look serious, you know it’s not that deep.

But, it is.

“We’re gonna have to talk about this, you know” you mutter to her as Anika demands that she be the one to distribute the cards, since Quinn is known to cheat.

As argument breaks out between the two of them, you and Tara find yourselves in a momentary bubble. Your eyes searching hers, she doing the same to yours.

“Tomorrow” she mutters, her hand gliding across the rug, your own instinctively slipping off the table to rest atop hers.

It’s a silent agreement, because the conversation won’t be easy, but even that doesn’t matter.

You’re pretty sure you’re both going to be on the same page.

Quinn ends up winning the next three games of Uno.

You accuse Ethan of slipping her cards again, she does have the better poker face than him after all.

And when he turns beet red, sputtering, war breaks out.

This. This is your family, it always has been. And with Tara?

It feels complete.

day 11

Intimacy comes in many forms, as does affection.

But with you? It’s indescribable.

The level of comfort and safety she feels with you is almost scary, with how quickly she opened up to you. Tara should’ve been terrified.

But if you’ve ever been right about anything, is that Tara just couldn’t help herself.

Tara raged to Sam about you back in Woodsboro on two separate occasions.

The first, after the incident at the lake with Wes. After she’d found you at that diner when she’d gotten off her shift late. After she’d gotten to know you a little better.

The second, was after you’d tried to leave. After you’d returned, told her you’d only come back for her. Reminded her how you’d promised to never leave her, after trying to leave her.

During Tara’s first rant, Sam had told her to stay away from you. How you were nothing but trouble from the outside, how you were reckless and acted with intrusive behavior. By the second, Sam was giving Tara a look somewhere close to sympathetic, with a dash of understanding.

Tara is pretty sure Sam knew before she knew back then, even with her initial reluctance towards you.

But now, as the two of you lay in your bed, a tangle of limbs that leaves wonder where you start and Tara ends. Tara knows.

Not even the movie playing idly in the background helps quiet Tara’s thoughts. The last few days have meant so much to her, life with you is everything she didn’t know she needed.

Tara hates that she is having a hard time admitting that to herself, because even with the phone calls back home to her friends and Sam, she’s painfully reluctant to return.

Or maybe, she’s just grown comfortable being checked out of reality. Now knowing the comfort of your arms, your home, your people, your life. She likes normalcy. She likes the absence is stress, wondering if someone she knows will disappear in a month.

Tara is starting to worry that there’s a slight chance, her trauma is catching up to her, now that she has room to breathe. To love. To live.

Can she go home? Can she leave you? It’s already a miracle that she found you.

Well, technically, you found her. She simply cradles the gift that is your heart in the palm of her scarred hand.

Does she deserve it? She deserves to be happy, just like anyone else. But at what cost? Will it be worth it, if it’s not what she’s desperately hoping it to be? Will this break her? Will you break her?

“You’re thinking awful hard” you murmur softly, your hand that had been idly scratching her back affectionately comes up to dip your fingers under her chin. The small touch has Tara lift her head off your chest, propping herself up on one elbow to look at you fully.

“I can’t be that predictable already”.

“Not at all, but you’ve got a giveaway” you say with a small smile.

That makes Tara scoff quietly, smacking your chest gently, which only makes you laugh as she protests “I do not!”

“You get this tension right here” you reach up to delicately trace the space between her eyebrows, “that and you haven’t made a single comment on the bad acting in this movie”.

She can’t help but smile at that, even as she rolls her eyes “yeah whatever”.

You’re analyzing her, she feels it, so she continues before you ask.

“What are we doing?”

Of course she expects a quip, sarcasm, a witty comment to ease her thoughts. Instead, you do better.

“I’d like to think there is a place where someone loves you both before, and after they learn what sustains you from the inside. And us-“ you pause, raising your hand with her palm pressed to yours.

“We’re just trying to find where that will home us, together” you trace her fingers with yours, captivated by the simple feeling of her skin against yours.

Tara never understood the depth of yearning for someone, anything. But when her eyes find yours, and finds just how deep your love for her runs, it hurts almost as much as it reassures her.

Which now begs the question: New York or Woodsboro? Somewhere in between?

“I can’t take you from your home”.

“Then you know I can’t ask the same of you” you reply just as softly, “I don’t care where-“

“Me either”.

A pause.

This pause, this moment of intimate silence, was a strange comfort, like a warm embrace on a cold night. There was no need for words, no need for argument. If there’s one thing you’ll never struggle with, is communicating, and that alone guarantees that eventually.

Eventually, you’ll come to a solution.

In this perfect, peaceful silence, there was an unspoken understanding between the two, an understanding that words alone could never express. It was a moment that transcended language, a moment that spoke in a language all its own, a language of trust, love, and connection.

It offered no resolute answer, and it doesn’t help that Tara flies home tomorrow.

But just maybe, right now, there didn’t need to be.

previous, next

[lemonlyman-dotcom]

This chapter of Kali fic is inspired by this wip of May’s ( @whatsintheboxmh ) and the song is Tu Corazón Es Mio 💕

Carlos hooks his chin over TK’s shoulder but he doesn’t say anything. They look out over the Hudson, watch as the slanting rays of the setting sun cast a warm pinkish orange tinge to the fluffy clouds that hover above the horizon.

How vibrant it is compared to the last time he was here, when the slate gray buildings almost blended into the flat, dreary sky behind them.

“It was the night after I overdosed,” he continues quietly. “I just kept thinking about everything I’d thrown away, all the work I put in trying to be this perfect person. Someone worthy of a future. And I accepted that night that I wasn’t ever gonna be that guy. I was too broken, too unlovable.”

He remembers coming down to Austin with his walls built up ten miles high and his mind made up that he would never let anybody else in. Would never let anyone get close enough to hurt him that badly again.

“I remember all the hoodies,” Carlos jokes. “The attitude.”

“Shut up.”

-Thank you for the tags @ironheartwriter @captain-gillian @carlos-in-glasses @literateowl @emsprovisions @chicgeekgirl89 @bonheur-cafe @alrightbuckaroo @nisbanisba 💛-

Tagging @whatsintheboxmh @orchidscript @heartstringsduet @honeybee-taskforce @thisbuildinghasfeelings @welcometololaland @eclectic-sassycoweyes @tommy-kinard-buckley @tellmegoodbye @ladytessa74 @cold-blooded-jelly-doughnut @basilsunrise @lightningboltreader @liminalmemories21 @freneticfloetry @sapphic--kiwi @herefortarlos @carlos-tk @firstprince-history-huh @fifthrideroftheapocalypse @fitzherbertssmolder @strandnreyes @paperstorm @filet-o-feelings @fallout-mars @your-catfish-friend @kiwichaeng @tinyluminaryzombie @guardian-angle22 @rmd-writes @iboatedhere @reyesstrand @never-blooms @decafdino @certifiedflower and OPEN TAG 🏷️

[asexual-juliet]

OUTSIDERS MUSICAL COSTUME REFERENCE: Johnny Cade

[costume masterpost here]

Sky Lakota-Lynch

Costume: Striped shirt (dark green, pinkish-red, yellow, and pastel blue stripes on white background) under denim vest. Cuffed jeans with rag in back pocket.

When Sky is on for Johnny, his denim vest has embroidery around the collar and hem (green zig-zags and an orange scallop pattern) that represents the Haliwa-Saponi Native American tribe.

Shoes: Yellow converse

Tattoo: Design on inside of upper left arm

Josh Strobl

Costume: Striped shirt (brown, yellow, dark tan, and light tan stripes on white background) under denim vest, cuffed jeans with rag in back pocket.

Shoes: Yellow converse

Note: Josh’s Johnny wig has bangs now!

Daryl Tofa

Costume: Striped shirt (same as Josh’s) under denim vest, cuffed jeans with rag in back pocket

Shoes: Yellow converse

Tattoos: Traditional Samoan sleeve tattoo on right arm, tree on inner left forearm. (reference photos here - don’t want to break the photo limit on this post!!)

putting my drawings under the cut as secondary sources :)

Sky:

Josh:

Daryl:

[mountainsandmayhem]

Wings. Fire. Magic. Part 2

Joel Miller x Female Reader (18+)

Masterlist || Part One

Summary: Joel takes you to The King despite your protests and everything he thought he knew is changed.

CW: I don’t want to give any spoilers so I’m just going to say that there’s some violence near the end. No smut, yet. 

A/N: Thank you @mermaidgirl30 for beta reading this for me and to everyone who has commented and reblogged the first part of this story.

Word Count: 3.2k

“You do know what the king will do to me, right?” You break the silence that has been surrounding you two since last night as Joel settles behind you on Remmer. The dragon didn’t leave your side all night, curling around you as you slept, keeping you warm and protected.

“The same thing they do with every other prisoner.” He says flatly, as if it’s not your life or the livelihood of your family that he’s about to doom. 

“He’ll either slice off my wings to take the power for himself or send me to a breeding camp.” Remmer shutters slightly underneath you before taking off for the sky. 

The sudden movement slides you back in the saddle, your body pressing against Joel’s strong chest. You can feel the cold buckles of his leathers pressing against your back and a dull ache thumps from your bandaged wing. He doesn’t push you off or adjust himself away from you, something in him has softened since he saved you last night. You lean back into him slightly to test his reaction. Even though he’s about to take you to The King, which will most likely end up with you dead, you somehow feel safe with him. That feeling of security only intensifies when he gathers the reins with one hand and then moves the other to wrap around your body.

The soft facial hair along his jawline tickles the shell of your ear as he says, “Typical Fae paranoia. You think everyone is against you.” 

You glare straight ahead at the clouds, “You saved me from sprites who wanted to slice me open for their own gain last night. Everyone is against us.” 

You scoot forward, no longer wanting any part of your body against his. Joel stops you, pulling you back against his body by your waist. His voice softens, thumb rubbing gentle circles along your side, “By not taking you to The King I’m equally as guilty. You know that.” 

“Whatever helps you sleep at night, Joel Miller. Guardian of Dragons, Warrior and Keeper of The Realm.” 

Something about you using his full titles in that sarcastic tone sets his teeth on edge. He has sworn to protect The Realm. He had to once The King found out about Remmer, that’s how it works. You can’t raise animals capable of mass destruction and not swear some sort of allegiance to The King. 

He’s taken prisoners in before, dropped them with The King and thought of them no more. But seeing you on the ground, screaming for help as those males tried to take your wings…It reminded him of when he found Remmer.

She was just a baby, no bigger than a baby bear. Her little screams filled the empty forest and when he finally found the source she was chained down, men standing around her arguing over who would be the one to cut her wings. Much like Fae wings, dragon wings are sought after and poached; however, they’re only used for dark magic.

Something in Joel snapped at Rem’s sad cries. He killed every single one of those men, all fifteen of them, with just his axe and his bare hands. 

When he unleashed the chains around the little black dragon she just stared at him curiously with bright orange eyes. He did what his father had taught him and walked away slowly, never turning his back, and avoiding eye contact. She bounced along after him and sat at his feet when he stopped walking. They’ve been almost inseparable ever since.

Joel shakes his head, you stole from him. And he has to leave it at that, because if he thinks about it too hard he’ll turn around. When he finally caught up to you in the woods the other day he wasn’t expecting to find someone as soft and pretty as you. A pinkish blush spread across your cheeks from the exertion of running and flying as fast as you could. The orange glow from the stolen egg that you hid behind your back encased you in a warm and inviting glow. If it wasn’t for the terror in your eyes at seeing Remmer, and Joel’s anger at whomever took the egg, he would have dropped to his knees right there. Gave you everything you wanted.

She stole from you, he reminds himself again.

A little voice in the back of his head speaks up, to help her family. How many Fae are you about to doom?

He can understand that call from deep in your gut to care for family. He would have done anything to save Sarah. Anything. The small hand tattoo he has over his heart warms at the thought of her. She had succumbed to an illness that takes many human children born in this world. He held her frail body as she grew weaker and weaker. When she took her last breath in his arms it had almost killed him.

As you and Joel begin to descend below the clouds a beautiful castle appears. The King’s castle sits embedded in a mountain, almost as if the mountain grew it there. A winding stone staircase leads down to a colourful village, houses and shops in pastel pinks, yellows, oranges and greens run along the winding shore. The same turquoise blue water from the meadow fills the river, wrapping around the mountain and out as far as you can see. Along the front wall of the castle are blue and white flags with the head of a lion. They flutter in the breeze and your heart matches their rhythm. 

You are going to die today.

Your breaths start coming in rapidly and you squeeze your wings tightly against your back. Fear spreads out from your chest, it feels like millions of worms wiggling and inching across your body. 

Rem swoops down and lands on top of a large flat tower on the edge of the castle. You feel Joel hesitate behind you, and when you turn your head to look at him his Adam's Apple bobs with a hard swallow. He slides down the dragon, she lets out a whine and Joel walks around to meet her gaze.

“I know,” he says quietly, stroking her strong neck. 

What does he know? What does Remmer know? The fear intensifies, you’re going to be slaughtered. You’re sure of it. 

You stare at Joel from atop his dragon. He reaches a hand up to you and you slide your shaky fingers into his grip, the glowing green cuff that’s eradicated your magic sliding down your delicate wrist. Joel's jaw flexes when he sees it. 

You swing your leg off the saddle and stand on Rem’s bent leg. Joel reaches up and places his large hands on your waist, lifting you and guiding your body down along his until your feet are planted on the floor in front of him. You’re so close that when you look up you think you might see a hint of sadness and regret in his eyes.

He says something quietly to Rem before grabbing your arm and leading you down a long winding staircase, the top of this tower must be a landing pad for dragons and other beasts. When you reach the bottom, he hesitates again before stepping out into a wide, outdoor stone hallway. You hear Rem’s cries as she flies off of the tower. 

Joel’s grip tightens on the back of your arm as he leads you towards two large wooden doors, guards flanking on each side. Their armour is emblazoned with Lions heads on their chest. You think you might stop breathing, terror is coursing through you and you’re sure the only reason you’re upright is because of Joel’s strong grip on your bicep. You walk along beside him, counting the steps to your impending doom.

When the doors part, Joel leads you down a long great room. There’s guards posted up along the walls, standing below stained glass windows. They’re easily twenty feet tall, pictures of The King's triumphs painted in the glass. Each one more brutal than the next. 

At the end of the hallway is a small set of stairs, The King and a few of his advisors sitting up top. There’s a small audience of men around the bottom of the stairs. Joel comes to a halt and bows his head at The King. You stand still. Pleasantries or not, The King will hurt you. He’s much older than you expected, balding under his crown, sun spots and age lines across his face.

“Joel Miller,” he says. His voice reminds you of the calm before a storm, eerily peaceful yet sets you on edge. He continues, “Guardian of Dragons, Warrior and Keeper of the Realm. To what do I owe the pleasure?” 

“Good day, your majesty. I’m afraid that I have brought you a thief. She tried to steal an egg. It was recovered unharmed and she has been cooperative.”

His thumb brushes along your bicep. Is he defending you? 

The King laughs cruelly. “Did you catch me a fairy?” 

Joel’s grip tightens on your arm. You told him this would happen. Neither of you respond to his question. 

“How old are you, fairy?” He almost spits the word fairy at you. 

“Six hundred and thirty seven,” you say, just above a whisper, your throat is so dry that it’s nearly impossible to talk. 

“Is it the dungeon or the breeding camps for you?” He says to himself. The vile king's eyes trail up and down your body. You’re above the typical breeding age, but at least in a breeding camp you know what to expect. 

His eyes meet Joels, “Does she have magic?”

“I’m not sure, Your Highness. I cuffed her as soon as I caught her.”

He leans over to one of his advisors, whispering to him with a cruel smile on his face, eyes locked on your body. You can feel him trying to burn through your clothes and if Joel wasn’t holding your arm you’d cross them over yourself. 

The King sits back, linking his fingers and resting his hands on his large round belly. Fae families everywhere are starving and dying, meanwhile this “king” is living a life of glutton. His lips curl up as he says, “undress her, someone fetch the sorcerer.”

Joel moves to step in front of you when two guards grab him. You reach out for him, suddenly desperate for him not to leave you. More green bands clamp around your arm courtesy of the guards before they move their bony fingers to the clasps and zippers of your leathers. The zipper sounds grind at your teeth as they begin to expose you to The King. You wouldn’t be surprised if he commanded each of these guards to take a turn before you were sent to whatever abhorrent punishment The King and his advisors had just decided on.

Your jacket is ripped from your body before a dagger is taken to the front of your shirt. Slicing through it like a boat on water, the sound of the fabric tearing ringing in your ears. The cold air hits your now exposed breasts and the men of the audience look as if they’ve grown hungry.

Your eyes search desperately for Joel as the guards move to remove your pants, he is nowhere to be found. The leather of your belt sounds like a knife against a stone as they yank it from your body. They lift you slightly off the ground, hoisted up like some sort of sick trophy, to remove your knee high boots, quickly followed by your pants being tugged at the hem of the ankle. 

You’re naked. Exposed. Just you and your wings.

A man with horn rimmed burgundy glasses and a sharp three piece suit of the same colour enters the room. The Sorcerer. He flicks a finger and a table with shackles at the four corners appears in front of you and the guards.

“On her stomach,” The Sorcerer says in a clinical voice, his shoes clicking on the cobblestone floor as he approaches you.

As the guards strap you to the table you finally catch the sign of Joel. He’s pinned to the ground by two guards, staring up at you with guilt and shame swirling through his warm brown eyes. 

You push your lips into a thin line and shake your head at him. You knew this would happen, and now you refuse to break his eye contact. You are going to make him watch what he’s done to you, what you warned him would be done to you.

You hear footsteps behind you and the back of your eyes burn with tears. A cold and sterile hand grips around the bottom top of your wing, hand brushing against your bare ass, before tugging hard. You stare coldly at Joel as The Sorcerer stretches out your iridescent left wing. The pressure behind your eyes builds. You’re going to die here.

“Amazing,” The King chuffs, he’s standing beside your right shoulder, your face turned away from him. “Six hundred and thirty seven, you say.” He’s not asking, mostly talking to himself as The Sorcerer moves to open up the other wing, the joint of it still wrapped in Joel’s bandage. 

The King’s sharp fingers move to remove the bandage and then he trails a clammy finger down your spinal cord and over the swell of one of your ass cheeks. A silent tear slips down your face as you watch Joel’s eyes turn dark.

The King scrapes his nails down the glittery, translucent proteins of your wings and bile rises in your throat. You feel the blood drain from your face as you continue staring down at Joel. 

“Can she mate?” The King asks.

“Flip her.” The Sorcerer says, the guards move quickly, armour clanging against each other as they fiddle with the chains holding you down. They flip you roughly, slamming you onto you back and then the chains click and rattle again to hold you in place. You stare up at the wood vaulted ceiling. There’s easily over a hundred onlookers, and you can feel their eyes roaming over your naked body. You feel sick.

The Sorcerer approaches, placing his glasses on the table beside you. You allow your cheek to fall to the table away from him, making eye contact with Joel once again. His eyes are black with anger, and when The Sorcerer's cold hands press on your lower abdomen Joel’s face turns almost murderous. 

Black mist snakes out from his palms, twisting and curling until it belts around your middle. At first it feels cold and tingly, almost like when you sit cross legged for too long and your foot falls asleep. Soon, the magic in it relaxes you, eyelids becoming heavy as you blink lazily at Joel. 

Just when you feel safe, the mist gets heavy, and then it starts to squeeze, pushing itself painfully into your skin. The pressure makes it hard to breathe and you try to cry out, mouth falling open in a silent scream. It feels like air is trapped in your lungs, it’s crushing you. Panic crosses your face as you stare at Joel. The world goes dark around you, Joel fading into the distance. You hear a sharp, cruel laugh before all your senses darken.

Joel 

My whole life I’ve been led to believe that Fae are paranoid and lazy. They steal for their own enjoyment and think the world is out to get them. Since meeting you, I’ve realized how very wrong I have been. And now you’re laying on a table, completely naked, being poked and prodded at for The King's own sick enjoyment. A king that I was led to believe was good and kind.

“She may be able to be bred,” The Sorcerer says, “but she’s old, so it might not take.” 

The King thinks for a while, his beady little eyes darting around her body. My palms tingle with the sudden urge to slam my beloved axe right across his face.

“Take her wings.” He says flatly before a cruel glint crosses his face, “but wake her up first, I want to hear her screams and watch the life leave her eyes as she dies from the blood loss.”

“Wait,” I call from the ground, panic swirling in my gut. 

The King looks down at me as if I’m mud on his boots. He flicks a hand upwards at the guards holding me and they lift me roughly.

“I’d like to take her as my slave.”

The king scoffs. “You what? Do you know how rare wings and magic Fae are?”

“I’ll give you three of Remmer’s eggs.”

The entire room goes quiet. For the past three hundred years, only dragon trainers have owned dragons. If they’re needed for war we, as Warriors and Keepers of The Realm, lead them. Kings are often tempted by the fiercest of dragons and Rem scares even the bravest of creatures, if only they knew she liked to play with butterflies in her spare time and used to be afraid of her own fire.

The king contemplates for a second, waving a hand again signaling for the guards to let me go. “I want eight.” He states. 

“I have three, I can bring you two more the next time they breed.” I focus on keeping my facial expression flat. 

The King stares me down, almost as if to see if I’ll flinch or back down. He makes his way back to his throne, hands linked behind his back as he saunters up the stairs. If we were alone I would easily kill that man with the lightest swing of my axe.

After settling down in his plush royal blue throne he says, “Deal.” 

I step towards you, still wrapped in that inky black mist, face contorted with pain and fear. 

“No so fast,” The King says, “it’s a deal, but I keep her wings until I have all the eggs.”

The Sorcerer snaps his fingers and the mist moves to blanket your entire body, melting the chains off of your milky white skin. He jerks his chin towards the sky and your limp body levitates off the table. You spin like meat above fire, and I suppose that that’s exactly how you’ve been seen your entire life, and I brought you to the fucking fire. 

The mist pulls itself together into a sharp line and slices down your back. I want to tear my eyes away at the carnage but I did this. I did this to you and I deserve to feel guilty about all of this for the rest of my life. 

Thick red blood coats your back before the mist travels over you again and cauterizes your wing joints. Two glowing blue scars is all that’s left. The black mist encases your wings, sets them high above The King's throne like a hunting trophy. 

Your body falls back down to the table and I walk over to you, keeping my face set in a hard line, not daring to give away my true feelings to The King.

===================================

Taglist:

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