#purple remedy unlock

[atlas-of-a-human-soul]

A little danger, pt. 11

A little danger - Series Masterlist

Pairing: Sky of Eraklyon x mind!fairy

Warnings: loooong, swearing, violence, sexual innuendos

———— PART 11 ————

Y/N doesn’t look back, her steps getting faster and faster until she’s running with Sky in tow. He probably has questions, she can sense his confusion, but she doesn’t stop until they’re out in the woods, away from curious eyes.

Letting go of his hand, she stumbles forward. Placing a hand on her stomach, she bends, resting her free hand on her right knee. 

Her chest heaves as she gasps for breath. She can feel her heart pounding in her chest like a beast trapped in a cage, and her head is spinning, feeling a wave of nausea wash over her. She leans against a nearby tree, closing her eyes as she tries to catch her breath. Her head is pounding, and she can feel a strange pressure building behind her eyes.

As she stands there, fighting for air, she begins to realize that her magic is rippling underneath the surface again. Her eyes flicker open, and she sees the iridescent glow of purple light radiating from her skin. .

“This never happened before”, she looks at Sky in horror.

Nausea intensifies, and she doubles over, clutching her stomach as a wave of dizziness washes over her. She feels as though she might collapse at any moment, and she struggles to stay upright.

Without question, Sky’s by her side, holding her up. “It’s alright, just breathe.” Running a hand up and down her back, he helps lean her back against the tree. “I’m here. We’re safe.” 

Hearing Sky’s voice is all the remedy she needs, allowing her mind to find a way out of the fog it got lost in. She has spent so much of her life feeling like an outsider, always different from everyone around her. If she’s being completely honest, part of her thought about giving up. Wouldn’t it be easier to surrender her magic to a scraper and neutralize herself as a possible threat? Because that’s all she’s been so far…a disaster waiting to happen. Farah told her to embrace it, to feel her emotions and let them take form she can later use as a weapon. She’s been doing anything but since Farah left the school. 

Last night was the first time she truly embraced every emotion available to her and today when she channeled them, her power was a little easier to control. If she was too far gone, she would have likely killed everyone in the field, but she didn’t. Her magic attacked the threat with just enough intensity for Rosalind to be warned and not killed. 

She did have some control and her love for Sky is the key to unlocking it fully.

As nausea begins to subside, Y/N straightens up, her eyes still glowing with a purple light. She takes a deep breath, feeling the power of her magic coursing through her veins. It's terrifying just how addictive it is, the power growing stronger inside her with every passing day. Just like any other drug, magic creates euphoria with everyday use. But it also corrupts. Too much power is dangerous for anyone - even her. Despite knowing that, for the first time in her life, Y/N feels ready to face whatever challenges may come her way.

Turning to Sky, her purple eyes meet his ocean-blue ones. She used to be afraid of hurting him when her powers would show, but this time she doesn’t run or push Sky away. Instead, Y/N smiles. 

“You’re beautiful”, Sky shakes his head in disbelief. When her eyes change to a purple color, it's as if a storm is brewing in her irises. The deep, rich hue swirls and dances like an otherworldly mist, drawing him in with an irresistible pull. The color seems to radiate from her pupils, casting a soft glow on her face and giving her an otherworldly, mystical quality. It's as if the purple light carries with it a sense of power and magic, making her seem both dangerous and alluring at the same time.

Every time he believes he might find a way to convince himself she’s made of flesh and bone, Sky finds himself enthralled by something new. How can he believe she’s anything but ethereal in every possible way? 

“And crazy”, he adds with a smile.

Chuckling, she nods. “When you’re involved, I don’t think I am capable of being normal.”

“Would you hurt Rosalind if she tried to continue her experiment?” 

“Yes”, she replies immediately. “I don’t think you understand to what lengths I’d go to for you.”

Sighing, he licks his lips. “But maybe she’s right.”

“You can’t be serious”, her face falls.

“If I have to take a little pain to help you, I’ll be at her mercy.”

Shaking her head, Y/N swallows thickly. “If it were Farah, I’d entrust you to her. Rosalind is too fickle for me to allow her this freedom. When will you realize that I’ll always put your safety first?” 

Cupping her cheeks, he rests his forehead on hers. “I think I understand. Mostly because I’d do the same for you.” And in a way, it scares him just how little he cares about consequences when Y/N is at stake. He’d get his hands bloody for her without hesitation.

Kissing her gently, Sky steals the very breath she drew in surprise at his response. How can she even find it shocking? If there’s anything she should be sure of it’s that his moral compass is lost when she’s in question. Maybe that makes him a bad person, but he’ll gladly be a villain in someone else’s story if it means his heart is safe.

Parting, Y/N sighs in disappointment. She’d love nothing more than to spend the day with Sky, to forget what is waiting for them when they return. Unfortunately for them both, they can’t ignore the world forever.

Sky wouldn’t say it out loud, but he loves the disappointment in her eyes when he pulls away. It means she longs for his touch as much as he aches for a taste of her lips. After chasing her for so long, it feels good to be wanted too.

“I don’t want to go back”, she whines as her phone vibrates. Looking at the notification, she furrows her brows.

“What’s wrong?” Sky moves behind her, looking at the message.

Bloom: Beatrix was taken by the Blood Witches.

Stella: When?

Bloom: The night of the banquet.

Terra: What do we do? 

Bloom: Rosalind thinks there’s a Blood Witch in school.

Aisha: Like a student?

Bloom: She’s not sure.

Flora: Is there a way we can find out? Musa?

Musa: I don’t think I’ve noticed anything off about anyone this year…In a different way than before.

Stella: Y/N might have. I’ll ask her at the party.

Aisha: Is she even going to the party?

Stella: She is.

“Why is she so confident I’ll show up?” Y/N grumbles, pocketing her phone as Sky’s phone rings.

Turning the screen to Y/N, Sky smiles innocently. “Probably because she knows she can harass me into coming and I’d bring you along?”

Rolling her eyes, she crosses her arms over her chest and leans back on the tree. 

Rejecting the call, Sky raises his brows. “What’s up with”, he gestures to her, “all that attitude?”

“You’re super close to two of your ex-girlfriends and I’m trying to be cool about it. Honestly.”

Chuckling, he nods in amusement. “Tell that to your face.”

Shrugging, she scowls. “I hate feeling like this.”

“I kinda like it”, he remarks. “Means you care. Just don’t blast anyone into a tree.”

“Ha-ha”, she grimaces. “Now text her that we’ll be there.”

“You sure?” 

Nodding, she bites her lower lip. She can be annoyed by it all when the danger’s passed. Besides, she’s not too worried about Sky straying. No matter how hard she tried to fight it, he’s in love with her and the history they share is stronger than anything he had with others.

Holding out his arm for her, Sky smirks as she peels away from the tree and links her arm with his. 

“Let’s find us a Blood Witch.”

Parting with Sky felt like a piece of her heart left with him. It was only to get ready for the party, but she didn’t like being away from him knowing a Blood Witch is close by. If they’re at this school, they know Bloom isn’t the only one that can pose a threat to their plans and that means whoever Y/N cares about is in danger. 

When Rosalind chose to use Sky as leverage during training, she showed everyone he was important to Y/N. It paints a target on his back for everyone looking to get their hands on Y/N and that’s just another reason why she’s uneasy about the distance between them. 

Another thing she dislikes is Sky deciding to meet up at the party because he wanted to talk to Riven. It prolongs the torture of not knowing he’s alright and she can’t help the dread wrapping around her intestines, twisting and turning until she can hardly keep down her stomach contents.

The first thing Sky does upon entering the party is taking a proper look at the people who’ve already arrived. It’s hard to tell in the darkness, but he’s fairly certain Y/N didn’t arrive yet. He would expect her to text him when she’s on her way, but then again, she could have easily forgotten. 

To his left, Aisha is downing a drink like it’s a cure for all that ails her. Deciding he could use a drink too, Sky joins her.

Lifting up her cup, Aisha smiles, already tipsy. “I’m drinking!”

“I can see that”, Sky chuckles as he brings the cup to his lips. Frowning at the bitter taste of stale beer, he grimaces. 

“Cheap alcohol mixed with different cheap alcohol,” Aisha states.

“Mhmm”, he clears his throat, dropping the cup back on the table. “Uh, keep at it then and I’ll just…uhh find Riven.”

“He’s probably making out with someone in the corner”, Aisha jokes.

“Or vomiting”, Sky shrugs before leaving to look for Riven. 

Despite his original thoughts, the last thing Sky expected was to find Riven talking to Musa. It seems as if he actually enjoys the conversation, his eyes never leaving the mind fairy. 

Chuckling, Sky shakes his head. Isn’t he the one who warned Sky to stay away from mind fairies, claiming they fuck with your mind? It’s actually nice to see him eat his own words for a change. 

Deciding he can catch up with Riven later, he leans on the wall and looks around. Someone here could be the Blood Witch and he doesn’t know how to feel about it. 

“You’re here”, Bloom joins him, a drink in her hand. “Alone.”

“So are you”, he notes. “Unless you count that drink as company?”

Shrugging, she takes a sip. “I’ve been busy theorizing who the Blood Witch might be all day. I need a break.”

“Any theories worth sharing?” Sky raises a brow, hoping Bloom could help shed some light on this enemy. He’ll accept any help available.

“I didn’t, but Sebastian did.”

Glancing at her, Sky nods. “Like?”

“It could be anyone”, she looks at the dance floor. “A student”, she begins. “A professor”, her gaze shifts to the new alchemy teacher who joined them at the party. “The catering staff”, she shrugs before turning her body toward Sky. Licking her lips, she tilts her head lightly, “Or someone close to us.” Placing a hand on Sky’s chest, she smiles. “Someone we trust.”

“Me?” Sky scoffs.

“Y/N”, she remarks. “We all know she’s never quite been right in the head and everyone says she’s been an outsider in Alfea from the start.”

“Same could be said about you”, Sky narrows his eyes. Pulling her hand off him, he steps to the side to create some distance. “You’re fairly new with a lot of power you can’t control as well as you like to believe.”

Meanwhile, Y/N stands in front of the mirror, her eyes fixed on her reflection. She's wearing a seductive red party dress, intricately designed with a plunging neckline and a thigh-high slit. The dress accentuates her curves, making her look even more alluring. She takes a deep breath and checks her makeup, making sure everything is perfect.

As she steps out of her room and makes her way to the party, she can feel the eyes of the other partygoers on her. Once inside, she sees Sky standing across the room, talking to Bloom. Pursing her lips, her nostrils flare as she watches Sky move away from Bloom. 

Their eyes meet, and she can see the shock and admiration in his gaze. He steps closer, licking his lips as a smile spreads across his face.

Sky can't believe what he's seeing. Y/N looks absolutely stunning in the red dress, and he can feel his heart beating faster in his chest, screaming for her to come closer. Y/N’s head is held high, slowly moving toward him across the dance floor. Most students move out of her way, some in fear, and others in astonishment he shares. Sky's never seen her look so confident and alluring before, and he can't take his eyes off her.

As Y/N approaches him, Sky's breath catches in his throat. He can see the way the dress hugs her curves and the way her hair falls softly around her face. He feels a sudden surge of desire, his pants becoming tighter as he imagines how good that dress will look on the floor when they find a moment to themselves.

"Wow," Sky says, his voice low and husky. "You look amazing."

Y/N smiles, feeling her cheeks flush with heat. She can see the desire in Sky's eyes, and it sends a shiver down her spine. Everything she wants is right there, inches away and she can’t help the way her heart jumps when his hand brushes her cheek as he leans in to peck her cheek. 

Grabbing his collar, she keeps him close.

"Thanks," she says, her voice barely above a whisper. "You look pretty good yourself."

Sky chuckles, feeling his heart swell with affection. No one has this amount of power over him and there’s no doubt in his mind that she can bring any man to their knees without ever using her magic.

To him, Y/N is magic.

“Everyone’s looking at you”, he informs her as his eyes follow where the neckline of her dress leads. “I might have to show them you’re mine.”

“I suppose it’s a good thing I only care about where your eyes wander”, she grins. Tilting his head with her index finger on his chin, Y/N pecks his lips. “Now, we can look for Stella.”

Looking over his shoulder, Sky looks to Bloom. “Do you know where Stella and the others are?”

“I just got here”, Bloom responds.

“I saw Aisha drinking nearby the entrance and Musa was talking to Riven.” 

“Riven?” Y/N raises her brows.

“Guess he thinks mind fairies are interesting after all.”

Shaking her head fondly, she turns back to the dance floor. Students are dancing again, mostly inebriated. Usually, it would make them easier to read, but she can’t sense any malicious intents and she doesn’t know if it’s truly the case or if there are too many of them for her to properly focus.

Groaning, she takes a few steps closer, looking at their individual auras, but none jump out as particularly hostile. 

Grabbing Sky’s hand, she walks into the hallway behind them, Bloom following behind. “No one here is plotting to kill us.”

“Yeah, but can they conceal themselves?” Bloom asks. “If they have the scrapers stealing our powers, maybe they can use those powers to conceal their true intentions?”

“Maybe”, Y/N admits. “If we had someone specific in mind, I could dive in and make sure if they’re a Blood Witch, but this is too wide of a search.”

“Right”, Bloom presses her lips in a thin line. “Well, we tried. Now, if you’ll excuse me, my cup is empty.”

Sighing, Y/N rests her hands on her hips. “I feel useless.”

“You’re not, though.”

“Thank you for saying that, but I failed spectacularly.” Huffing, she looks to the door with a small frown. “We should go back and try to enjoy the party.”

Placing a hand on the small of her back, Sky pulls her closer to him. “Or we can go back to one of our rooms and party on our own.”

Biting her lower lip, she tries to suppress a smile. “Your offer is tempting, but I actually like the song they’re playing.”

Rolling his eyes playfully, he nods. Leading her to the door, he opens it for her. “Ladies first.”

The night turned into a blur. It was easy to forget about their worries with music numbing their senses and the spiked punch certainly helped as well. For once, Sky saw Y/N without a care in the world. She didn’t seem weighed down by anything, laughing and dancing, free of the burdens this world placed on her. 

Stella, Musa, Riven, Terra, and Flora joined them on the dance floor and Sky felt more at ease too. With most of his friends there, Y/N was safer and he could relax as well, have a few drinks too much and just enjoy this moment. 

With an arm tightly wrapped around Y/N, Sky walked out of the party a little before dawn. 

“Want to continue this party on our own?” Y/N wiggles her eyebrows, her smile bright.

Exhaling loudly, Sky shakes his head. “You're not sober enough to have sex.” 

Stepping in front of him, she runs her finger down her plunging neckline, making Sky groan.

“Are you sure”, she raises her eyebrows. “I’m sure we’ll both agree it was consensual.”

Dragging a hand over his face, he rests it over his heart. “Stop trying to kill me and allow me to be a gentleman.”

Shrugging innocently, she starts walking. “Okay…I guess I’ll have to find a way to party on my own.”

“You’re not playing fair!”

Despite Y/N’s teasing, Sky left her in her dorm with a heavy heart…and a situation in his pants he was planning on taking care of the moment he gets back to his room.

Waking up with a major headache wasn’t quite as enjoyable. Having to take a few shifts as a guard was even worse. He’d barely see Y/N in the day, catching a few glimpses of her in class. The strongest fairies would train outside, practicing the deadliest ways of directing their magic and while Y/N still struggles with control, Sky could tell she’s got a better grasp of her powers.

It would be three days before they had a proper moment to see each other again, agreeing to meet their friends at a bar outside the confines of Alfea. 

“I missed you”, Y/N smiles against his lips, wishing they could skip the bar and just kiss all night long. 

“I know what you mean”, he sighs. “It’s torture when we’re apart.”

Taking his hands in hers, she intertwines their fingers. “And heaven when we’re together.”

Nodding, he brushes his nose against hers, enjoying the way she beams at him. 

Opening the door for her, he sighs as his phone rings. “Probably Riven wondering where we are.”

“Any idea how dangerous it is out there?” 

Rolling his eyes, Sky looks around. “Oh yeah, it's... it's terrifying.” 

“Who is it”, Y/N whispers.

“I want you back before sundown”, Saul orders. 

“Or what?” Sky challenges.

“Excuse me?” 

“Trying to figure out the consequence.” Leaning on the car, Sky continues. “Will it be a Silva-style lecture or a Rosalind-style torture? It's hard to nail down your moral center lately.”

Smacking his arm lightly, Y/N shakes her head at him. She keeps hoping Sky will forgive Saul, but it’s like a festering wound that never heals. 

“Sky, whatever your feelings are towards me, put them aside. You're speaking to your commanding officer.”

“Let me talk to him”, Y/N whispers, but Sky waves her off.

“Don’t drink and stay aware of your surroundings.” 

“I always do”, Sky remarks. “I'll be back at a reasonable hour.”

Hanging up the phone, he finds Y/N glaring at him.

“What?”

“That was a bit harsh”, she notes.

Closing her door, he gets inside as well, starting the car.

“He loves you”, Y/N tries.

“I know, okay? I’m well aware.”

“So what’s the problem?” Tilting her head, she places a hand on his knee. “You don’t have to talk to me but talk to someone. Don’t bottle it up.”

“He lied to me”, Sky clenches his jaw. “My life was a lie and he wants me to move on like nothing ever happened? He was gone and I learned the truth and I could finally be my own person.” Squeezing the steering wheel, he sighs. “I felt free for the first time in my life and then he came back and I don’t know what to do with that.”

“Saul’s only looking out for you. He’s probably worried about how you’ve dealt with the whole thing, especially the way Andreas is.”

“So, he scared him away?” Sky glances at her, a lump growing at the back of his throat as he turns his gaze back on the road. “Andreas has barely said anything to me since the banquet.” Biting his lower lip, he continues quietly as if every uttered word brings pain. “Right when I was…starting to get him.”

“I don’t think he’s like that because of Saul or you”, Y/N gives his knee a light squeeze in reassurance. "I think he’s having a hard time dealing with Beatrix missing.”

“You’re probably right”, he sighs. “He left me and then decided to raise someone else’s daughter and I’m still here overthinking everything he says or does.” Chuckling dryly, Sky shakes his head. “I just wish I knew why he did it.”

“I could get him to tell you anything you want to know”, Y/N offers.

Chewing the inside of his lip, Sky blinks fast. He’s considering it, but what good would it do? Is there an answer that could satisfy him? 

“I love you”, he states, “but no. I don’t want to risk alienating him more.”

Nodding, she forces a smile. “In that case, let’s forget about everything. We can let loose for a night.”

“And how will we get back?” He raises his brows, a small smile on his lips.

Pausing, she sighs. “Alright, YOU can let loose and I’ll babysit you and then drive us back.”

“You’re gonna be sober all night?”

“I don’t even like drinking”, she shrugs. “It makes me lose control and I can’t afford to lose control now.”

“Okay then”, Sky reaches for her hand, bringing it to his lips. “Be my guardian angel for the night.”

“I’m always going to be your guardian angel”, she promises.

She meant it. And whether Sky was aware of it or not, that night she’d prove just how far she’d go to protect him. The night that began as fun with dancing, laughter, and making out quickly came to a horrific end.

Seeing the girls arguing, Y/N excused herself to see what was happening. 

“We have to do something”, Stella insists. “The specialists are wasted, but I could grab…”

“Nobody’s grabbing anyone until I’m told what’s happening”, Y/N crosses her arms.

“Stella thinks she knows where Beatrix is being held”, Musa tells her.

Eyes wide, Y/N glances at Sky raising his drink and laughing. 

“How do you know?” Y/N’s eyes darken. 

“She texted me”, Stella shows her phone. 

Shaking her head, Y/N laughs cynically. “It’s a trap.”

“Maybe, but we still have to try”, Stella exclaims. “I’d do it for any of you. Why isn’t anyone willing to do it for Beatrix?”

Chewing on her lips, Y/N inhales sharply. “We should call Silva and see what he thinks.”

“We don’t have time for that”, Stella remarks.

“Either way, I won’t let you put us all in danger over a text.” Swallowing thickly, she takes her phone out. “I’ll be right back and we’ll figure it out then.”

Checking on Sky once again, she smiles when she sees him hugging Riven. He’ll be fine for a few minutes.

Dialing Saul, Y/N gnaws on the soft flesh inside her left cheek. Glancing around, she lets out a shuddered breath as she puts the phone to her ear. It rings once. Twice. Three times.

“Did something happen?” Saul’s voice startles her.

Licking her lips, she sighs. “Someone sent Stella a text from Beatrix’s phone with an address.”

“Don’t go there”, Saul all but growls. “Send me the address and I’ll assemble a team.”

“No, shit. I was about to walk into what’s clearly a trap and decided to call you so you know how stupid I am.”

“I trust you won’t do it, but the rest of your friends don’t usually think. They just do and always live to regret it.”

Running a hand through her messy hair, she sniffles. “What do I do if they don’t listen to me?”

“Use your magic.”

Nearly choking on her spit, she coughs. “Absolutely not!” Clearing her throat, she frowns. “I’m not about to risk lobotomizing all of my friends.” 

“Then I need to be quicker than them. Text me the address and make sure to stall them.”

Sniffling, she nods. “Yeah. I’ll try.”

Sending him the address, she lets out a long, heavy exhale. Maybe Saul is right? If they decide to go to the location, they’ll be in danger she can’t save them from. 

Shaking her head, she rubs her temples. No one would forgive her if she did that, Sky especially. But then again, letting them go would be worse. At least they’d be around to hate her, instead of buried six feet under.

Shivering with the wind, Y/N walks back inside only to find the guys are gearing up.

With quivering lips, she rushes to Sky who was already dressed, ready for combat.

“Sky!” She pulls him by his shirt to get his attention. “What do you think you’re doing?”

Without so much as a glance her way, Sky sheaths his sword. “We’re going after Beatrix.”

Gulping, Y/N’s lips part. “Stella told you?”

“If by that you mean she told me she knows where Beatrix is, then yes. Would have been nice if my girlfriend told me, but then again, you’ve always been fond of secrets.”

Taking a step back, she bites her bottom lip. “That’s not fair. I would have told you, but this is a trap and I called for backup instead of rushing into danger blindly.”

Turning to face her, Sky’s ocean-blue eyes have frozen over as he looks down at her. “You called Saul?”

“The Blood Witches are trying to lure fairies to steal their magic and if they get to kill Specialists while they’re at it, I’m sure they’ll be more than happy to.”

“We’ve been training for this”, Sky reminds her. “Specialists can take out scrapers, while mind fairies can protect us from Blood Witch magic.”

“I’m in”, Musa raises her hand.

“So am I”, Y/N states readily. The last thing she wants is to let them all go in this alone. If there’s anything she can do to help, she will. 

“You’re not coming”, Sky exclaims instantly. 

Scoffing, she raises her eyebrows. “I don’t remember asking for permission.”

Grabbing her by the arm, Sky’s eyes narrow and his grip tightens as he steps closer to her. “Your powers are too volatile to be of any help. You’re not coming and that’s final.”

Her chin trembles but her eyes never falter as her anger begins to surface. “Trying to intimidate me with brute force, huh? You once told me to take your brain for a joy ride if you ever hurt me and right now I’m seriously considering that.”

Sky’s grip only tightens, and Y/N can feel the pressure of his fingers digging into her skin. “Threatening me won’t work, Y/N. The only way you can keep me here is by using your magic, but know we’ll be over if you do.”

Trying to pull away from Sky, she grimaces in pain. “And we both know you can’t stop me from coming, so let me go or I swear I’ll make you regret it.”

“I don’t think any of us should go”, Bloom speaks up. “It’s not safe for fairies.” Looking at Y/N, she adds, “Any fairies. We’re gonna go back to Alfea.”

“I’m going”, Y/N repeats. “Saul is on the way and I am not letting the boys walk into a death trap with no one to help them.”

“What can a fairy with out-of-control abilities truly do?” Sky crosses his arms. 

Clicking her tongue, she ignores the hurtful comment. “Go”, she tells the girls. “Musa or I will text you if we find Beatrix.”

Heading to the door, she holds her breath. Most times she’d tell herself Sky was just saying that to make her angry enough to stay, but she can’t help it. When the doubts come from him, they always find their mark.

She sat in the car, waiting for them to follow. Swallowing the lump at the back of her throat, she lets out the breath she was holding. Sky, Riven, and Musa sit with her, while the other few take the other car.

No one really spoke during the short drive, the tension growing thicker as they approached the lodge.

“Saul isn’t here yet”, Riven states. 

“He should be on his way”, Y/N checks her phone, but he’s sent her no messages. “Should we wait?”

Glancing at the other Specialists getting out of the car, she shakes her head. “Guess not.”

Pulling her hair up in a ponytail while Sky, Musa, and Riven leave, she leaves her phone on the passenger’s seat. The last thing they need is Stella calling when they’re trying to sneak around.

“A playground would be less creepy?” 

Sky’s voice leads her to where they went. She doesn’t say anything, closely following behind, nervously looking around for signs of Blood Witches. The wind whistles through the trees, and the moonlight casts eerie shadows across the path ahead.

The lodge comes into view, and it looks even more ominous up close. The windows are boarded up, and the door hangs off its hinges. The group pauses before entering, all on edge in case it's a trap.

Y/N’s fingers tingle with magic awakening as if to warn her there’s something amiss. A shiver runs down her spine as they step inside, the darkness enveloping them. They move carefully, taking each step with caution.

The air is thick with dust, the only sound heard inside is their soft footsteps. Suddenly, Y/N hears a creaking noise and her heart races. She turns towards Sky, who nods at her reassuringly, letting her know he's got her back. Despite the harsh words he threw in her face, Y/N knows he wouldn’t let her get hurt and that scares her the most. She’d much rather be the one who takes all the pain, as long as he gets out of here unscathed.

They make their way further into the lodge, searching for any signs of danger. Y/N can feel her pulse pounding in her ears as they turn a corner. Y/N pauses, turning to Musa.

“She’s here”, Musa whispers. 

“Upstairs”, Y/N confirms. “But something doesn’t feel right.” 

“What does that mean?” Riven asks, cautiously looking around.

“I don’t know how to explain it, but I don’t think we are here alone.”

Heading for the stairs, Musa turns to the group. “In that case, we’ll be quick.”

Reluctantly, Y/N walks after Sky and Riven who follow Musa. The room they enter is small, the smell of mold overwhelmingly strong. The roof is leaking, and the floor is drenched by the flooding. 

“Beatrix”, Musa runs to the small figure lying on the floor. “She’s still alive”, she exclaims happily.

“Let’s get her and go”, Sky urges Riven, moving toward the girls.

Y/N can't shake off the feeling that someone, or something, is watching them, waiting to attack.

Her eyes dart around, scanning the dark corners and shadows, but she sees nothing. Still, the feeling persists, gnawing at her gut like a predator stalking its prey.

“If she’s unconscious, how did she text Stella?” Musa asks, looking at Riven with concern.

Tension in her chest is making Y/N's magic hum restlessly under her skin. Y/N's eyes widen as she sees movement out of the corner of her eye, but when she turns, nothing is there.

"Guys," she whispers urgently, her voice barely above a breath. "We need to get out of here. Now."

Just as the words pass her lips, the sound of slithering and chittering fills the room and Y/N finds herself pulled back and behind Sky.

“Scrapers”, Riven grumbles under his breath.

“Just what we needed”, Sky mutters.

Everything after that felt surreal.

The creatures appeared out of nowhere, their sharp claws and teeth glinting in the dim light of the lodge. Y/N and Musa were taken by surprise, frozen in terror as the scrapers lunged at them.

Sky and Riven reacted quickly, drawing their swords and aiming their arrows at the scrapers. But the creatures were fast and agile, dodging their attacks with ease.

Y/N took a deep breath, her eyes flashing purple as she summoned a burst of energy, sending it toward the scrapers but it had no effect just as Rosalind told them.

Sky and Riven fought with all their might, their swords and arrows glinting in the dim light. Y/N could see the strain on their faces as they tried to protect her and Musa.

She knew they were outnumbered, and the odds were against them. 

Noticing Andreas walking in, Y/N’s eyes widen as Sky sees him too.

“Andreas?” His voice is filled with uncertainty as Andreas stares at them menacingly. 

“There’s something wrong with him”, Musa warns. “He’s not Andreas.”

Turning to Y/N, Sky grabs her forearm. Forcing her to look at him, his eyes plead with her while his lips form an order. “Run.”

“What about you?” 

“If they catch you, they’ll be unbeatable”, Sky reminds her. “Run!”

Everything inside her told her to stay, but her legs moved on their own accord. She needed to get help or she might never see Sky again. 

Catching a glance of the fight as she disappears down the stairs, Y/N yelps as a scraper latches onto her wrist. Slamming it against the wall, she groans as it falls off, blood gushing out of the wound. Rushing, she ducks, narrowly escaping yet another one only to scream out when sharp teeth break the skin on the back of her neck and a few more bite onto her legs.

Shaking, she grips it tightly, sinking her fingernails into the creature as a soft violet light emanates from her glowing skin. Its jaw relents as she reaches the door, tossing it to the ground before grabbing a rock and slamming the door behind her. Smacking the three scrapers with the sharp edge of the rock, she manages to detach them from her legs, realizing they’ve already gotten a taste.

Gasping for breath, she runs her hand across her neck. Her skin is still glowing, but she can hardly contain her powers as the pain intensifies. What happens if she loses it? 

Pushing the thought away, she focuses on Sky. He’s just one floor above her, fighting his father who is likely under the influence of the Blood Witches. She’s supposed to be a mind fairy capable of fighting them, of protecting Specialists, but she’s hiding in a dark room like a coward.

Biting her quivering lips, she closes her eyes. If she’s got all this magic wanting a release, she might as well find a useful way to do it.

She’s felt a presence since the moment they walked into this lodge, but a part of her was afraid of exploring it, worried it would alert them of her presence if they weren’t already aware.

There’s no reason to hide anymore. 

Searching through the dark, she could see an outline of a person as it fights with a sword. He’s attacking without respite, pushing his opponent into the wall.

“Andreas”, she whispers under her breath. The Blood Witch is in his mind, forcing him to do this. Disarming the man in front, he points the tip of his sword against the man’s throat.

Sky. He’s fighting Sky.

With fierce determination, she closes her eyes and channels all of her magic toward Andreas. She can feel his body trembling, and she knows that the Blood Witch can sense her and is fighting back. But Y/N isn't going to give up, not when Sky’s life is at stake. All of her is focused on pushing the Blood Witch out of Andreas' head. She can feel the witch's power pulsing through her veins, trying to take control of her as well. But Y/N refuses to let that happen.

Suddenly, she feels a jolt of pain shoot through her head, and she cries out in agony. But she doesn't stop. She keeps pushing, using every ounce of strength she has to force the Blood Witch out.

The room is filled with the sound of crashing furniture and shattering glass as her powers begin to explode from within her and slam everything in the room against the walls. She can hear Silva’s voice through Andreas, feeling his muscles tighten as he swings his sword toward Sky. 

“No”, she trembles violently as Silva blocks his attack, allowing Sky enough time to grab a sword too.

As they begin to fight, Y/N struggles to stand her ground with the Blood Witch. They’re incredibly powerful, using Andreas like a puppet. 

He knocks Sky back, only to push Silva against the wall, his sword under his throat. Pushing further, Y/N could hear Saul choking, trying to draw breath but to no avail. Sky’s beside her…beside Andreas, begging for him to let Saul go.

Tell him I’m sorry. Tell him I cared.  Andreas tells her.

“Tell him yourself!”

Hands forming fists, she grits her teeth. If there was ever a time for her to let the beats out, this is it. With a scream, she lets all of her magic flow into the fight, managing to break the connection.

With a clear mind, Andreas looks to Sky. “Do what you have to do. Please.” 

The connection was broken, indeed. But only for a moment. The presence returned, pushing against Y/N with a strength she never encountered before. Her body feels like it's on fire as she struggles against the powerful grip of the Blood Witch, their dark energy coursing through her veins, trying to take control of her own mind.

Y/N is fighting back with all her might, using every bit of her own magic to push against the Blood Witch's influence. But the more she struggles, the stronger the Blood Witch seems to become, its grip on Andreas' mind tightening. She can feel herself starting to weaken, her own magic failing her as the Blood Witch's power overwhelms her. She’s losing the fight, Andreas is already attacking Saul and Sky again.

Desperately, Y/N tries to hold on, but it’s of no use. She’s failing Sky and she’s failing everyone in Alfea. Sky was right…she’s of no use to them.

And that’s when she feels a sharp pain in her stomach, a coldness spreading from it to her limbs, darkness overtaking her senses. The last thing she remembers is an oddly familiar whisper echoing in her mind. 

You lose. 

PART 12 

[dnangelic]

@longerhuman asked: sneaking into the niwa’s residence was hardly a difficult task for someone as nimble as dazai , though he was admittedly faced with an onslaught of dread when he viewed his dear friend’s house up close for the first time . a mansion ? for that little pint sized twerp ? how utterly ridiculous ! though needing to get to the second story was tedious in concept , it was a piece of cake for someone who regularly kept a rope on his personal for his suicidal proclivities . once he hauls himself over the balcony’s ledge , a brown grocery bag cradled in one arm , he’s careful to approach the window as quietly as possible , steps against the pavement light &. weightless as a feather . he made quick work of unlocking the window with one of the pins he kept hidden beneath his wrist bandages , &. ushered his body into the building the moment it opened , sparing no time to observe the house’s architecture though it was of begrudging interest . ❝ niwa - saaaaan ! wake up , you’re going to be late for school . ❞ he calls out loudly from the windowsill despite it being midnight on a saturday , perched on it’s ledge in a crouch , the brown paper lowering to rest beside him . dazai tried to squint into the darkness in an attempt to see if his little companion was already awake , but with one eye covered by a perpetual bandage , his vision was greatly stunted . he waited until he could hear signs of life &. movement on the other end of the room before pulling a pistol from his waistband . it’s immediately raised towards the boy’s bed , a resounding click of the safety being turned off echoing on daisuke’s bedroom walls . ❝ i’ve prepared something to remedy a problem of yours . ❞ with dazai , this was never a good thing . in his organization , he was notorious for making devil concoction hotpots that were so despicable &. dangerous , anyone who had the misfortune of being forced ( usually held at gunpoint ) to taste test them often suffered delusions , hallucinations , or the occasional brain - bleed . ❝ get up , walk to the bag on the windowsill . unless you want to get shot . who knows , maybe niwa - san is finally feeling suicidal on this particular day ! ❞ he keeps the muzzle steady &. trained on what appeared to be the red - head’s figure . ❝ ne , niwa - san is a growing boy , right ? but i keep thinking — how come he hasn’t gotten any taller ? it’s just awful , so i used my ginormous brain to construct a hotpot that is guaranteed to extend your vertical profile . there’s just a few side effects … nausea , potential death , seizures , cramps , headaches , hallucinations , voice - cracks — but don’t worry about any of that ! ❞ inside the brown bag is indeed a metal bowl with a plastic , fog covered lid held over the top with black duct tape . next to it is a mug , purple in hue , with a removable lid that contained cold milk . ❝ it’s imperative that you drink the refreshment I supplied right after tasting the remedy . it’s a natural activation for my potion — &. if your puny , shrimp - like stature is any indication , you’re in desperate need of milk … it might just help you get bigger ! ❞ he certainly didn’t supply the milk to combat the spice infested main - course , that would be far too considerate . the hotpot isn’t actually a hotpot , though he would refer to it as such — he didn’t even make it himself . it’s mostly homemade spicy curry he got from a trusted coworker of his , with some strange , inappropriate additions such as non-poisonous mushrooms &. gummy worms mixed in to make it seem inedible &. foul . unlike his usual concoctions , it’s void of drugs or anything that could possibly be fatal . ❝ you’re going to eat it , won’t you ? i spent all this time &. effort preparing this meal for you . besides , if your eyes melt out of your head … then you must not be worthy of living another year . ❞ // sorry . this is so long . i’m so sorry . 🙏 happy bday daisuke !

it's not entirely an unfamiliar voice , but through daisuke's waking grog it's initially impossible to discern . sleep could be a precious commodity at times for the hectic niwa : every morning he was expected to dodge one of the many violent death traps his mother had no qualm sacrificing his very own bed for , complete with challenging expectations such as : get dressed within one second ! pick this lock with your right hand , and hack this security system with your left within five ! it's thus the gentle rouse of dazai's whispers that perhaps shocks him the most . eyes snap open and the red-headed boy scrambles and flusters into a sit upwards in an instant --- only to be met with the black barrel of the other's gun . ' wh ... ' he gasps and covers his mouth , both hands blocking out any of his own voice . why was his life always like this ?! if he screamed , no doubt the entirety of his family , and even dark would wake up , a dozen members rushing all at once towards the upper floor . but then what would happen to dazai ?

' u-um , ' obedient despite the tremble of woken-terror and speeding adrenaline in his legs , he stiffly marches himself towards the bag on the sill as demanded , both of his hands held haplessly upwards . frankly , spoken as someone who was meant to be a professional escape artist , there were better places to place objects of supposed threat like this . it's a surprisingly sharp comment that daisuke decides to keep to himself , dazai's own spoken words stuffing themselves into his ears instead . when he considered it , just what was anyone supposed to say in these sorts of circumstances ?! ' ... g-goodnight , hello to you too , wah --- ' his vertical profile , huh . maybe , if this had been just about anyone else , the niwa might have been dumb enough , or maybe just desperate enough , to shut his eyes and willingly guzzle anything down for just a few more inches of height . but this looked really bad .

dazai wouldn't actually go so far as to kill him , right ? in his own house , in his own bedroom , and on his very own own birthday !? even knowing that the other's sense of humor could be cruel and callous , he would have never guessed that it could truly extend this far . daisuke still isn't sure whether to flee , to turn about and beg his case to the boy behind the threatening pistol , or to , despite it all , continue to trust the other . he thinks --- even if it's a fatal poison , his entire family was still here . towa-chan , his father , his mother , each with unique specializations that could be rushed to if things truly turned fatal . so the niwa grips his fists and shuts his eyes ; nods his head . he would eat it , though --- what kind of crazy test was this really supposed to be ?! at midnight under the moonlight with the floral , vine-rose waft of azumano's breeze caressing his cheek from the open sill , it could have been as romantic a stage as romeo and juliet's balcony . alas , the tragedy was only to come : pushing through every emotion of alarm urging him not to do it , he takes his first bite .

... it tastes weird .

it's horribly sweet in a few bizarre areas , and the chewy texture of dazai's additions mingle strangely with the unmistakably strong taste and burgeoning spice of curry starting to inflame his tongue . daisuke coughs , practically collapsing onto the sill , his head flung into the center of both of his arms , as if he had just been whacked from behind . the boy's tolerance for spicy foods had always been low , despite the way he seemed to regularly suffer at the hands of it thanks to any innocent , oblivious chefs-in-training . maybe he really would die from something like this . the sentence has barely left his thoughts before he suddenly rejects it , lifting himself from the sill with a small slam and an intense look of determination in his eyes , despite the shimmering wells of tears budding up at the corner of each iris . he wouldn't give up as long as there were things left that he wanted to do on this day .

the milk comes next , and though it hardly assists in alleviating any amount of the strange , incoherent blend of tastes rampaging across his tongue , it at least soothes enough of the burning sensation to allow daisuke to speak , albeit forced through coughs and dewy tears . ' --- i did it , ' spoken as a point of challenged and triumphant pride . the sense of it slips away fast as it had arrived ; daisuke's voice softens and hushes down into a burnt and haggard whisper . ' b-but , dazai-kun , why ... ' on this particular day . his birthday ? ' was this ... ' supposed to be his birthday gift from the other ?!

without another word a hand reaches out to touch at the other boy's skin --- ' w-wait , dazai-kun , ' before the either of them might have even realized it , daisuke was already holding his friend by the wrist . ' i ... had a feeling that something like this might happen . no , what i mean is --- i was really hoping that i'd get to see you today . ' uncertain as ever as to whether or not the other would sneer at or decline any sort of invitation , leaving nothing but empty absence and still silence behind . in the shared present between them , he still doesn't know what was supposed to come next after this ; whether or not dazai had been planning to escape as swiftly as he had entered , or if the boy would find another reason to stay . daisuke clings to them before they could potentially vanish , a single plead in his voice .

' ... before you go , will you come with me to the kitchen ? please , ' gently , he takes the other out of the bedroom and down the house's steps , still dressed in nothing more than his pajamas , cheeks flushed bright red . bare feet quietly patter along the ornate tiles of the niwa's residence ; they pass by carved railings , the crystal chandelier of the main foyer , and the myriad vases , sculptures , and gold-framed portraits lining the halls until finally they arrive at the building's sole kitchen . daisuke doesn't meddle with anything inside and steps further towards the family refrigerator , quietly opening it . retrieving a single , carefully clear-wrapped slice of cake , he offers it out to the other with a small smile . this was it , precious as a fragile bird's nest in his hands . something that he had been carefully preserving for the other .

' dazai-kun . here . ' the blush across his cheeks remains visible even in the dim light of night . ' i tried ... to think about it really carefully . whether or not you would like things like parties , or what i might be able to do for you . ' yes , even on his very own birthday . ' in the end , i still don't know whether or not dazai-kun gets a lot of things like this all the time ... or if he even likes sweets . but i thought that even if we didn't get to spend time at a party together , or maybe if he was just busy or didn't like things like that , then maybe i could at least get the chance to still give him something . '

insisting upon its acceptance , placing the dessert , plastic fork , and disposable plate into the other's grasp , daisuke is fast to turn their shared direction about , practically sliding dazai across the floor in a guide of them towards the front door . ' ... you have to get out of here before somebody wakes up , okay ? ' nevermind the trouble of having to explain himself and an unexpected guest if they ended up caught . his mother , upon ever realizing that the family mansion of thieves had been so easily broken into , would no doubt turn devastated before becoming even stricter with the fatal traps set out for her son . daisuke's peaceful , unhindered night-time bathroom breaks would be completely over .

' but --- i'm really happy that i got to see you . ' there's nothing but sincerity in his voice ; a warm glow . the palms of his hands on the other's shoulders like this , it's the closest thing to the sort of tight and warm embrace that he wishes that he could have happily given to the other . any happier , and it might have been the great phantom thief dark himself bidding the mafioso farewell from the doorway . the pound of his heart wouldn't have been able to stop for hours . ' ... thank you so much , dazai-kun . ' he grins and he waves . this much was more than enough . ' for coming to visit me today . '

[taimio]

Unlocking the Magic of Elderberries: A Journey into Their Fascinating World

Elderberry is an ancient medicinal plant that has been used historically to treat a variety of ailments, from colds and flu to cardiovascular and skin diseases. It is rich in antioxidants, which can help to reduce inflammation and boost the immune system. Elderberry can be consumed as a tea, syrup, or extract, and is also available in supplement form. It is important to talk to a doctor before using any herbal supplement, however, as it can interact with certain medications. Exploring Elderberry: Delving into the Exquisite World of Elderberries -- As I venture into the realm of elderberry growing, I am met with a sense of wonder at the beauty and versatility of these unique plants. **Elderberries**, known for their dark purple clusters of berries, not only make a stunning addition to any garden but also offer a plethora of health benefits. One of the first things I learned about elderberries is their resilience to various climates and soil types. **These hardy plants** can thrive in both full sun and partial shade, making them a versatile choice for any garden. The process of growing elderberries is surprisingly straightforward. **With the right care**, including regular pruning and adequate watering, elderberry bushes can yield bountiful harvests of delicious berries. Intrigued by the potential of elderberries, I began to experiment with different recipes, from elderberry syrup to elderberry jam. **The rich, fruity flavor** of these berries adds a unique touch to both sweet and savory dishes. One of the most fascinating aspects of elderberries is their historical significance. **For centuries**, elderberries have been used in traditional medicine for their immune-boosting properties and as a natural remedy for colds and flu. As I continue to explore the world of elderberries, I am constantly amazed by their beauty and benefits. **Whether you are a seasoned gardener or a novice**, growing elderberries is a rewarding experience that is sure to enrich your life. In conclusion, **delving into the exquisite world of elderberries** has opened my eyes to the wonders of nature and the endless possibilities of gardening. I encourage you to embark on your own elderberry-growing journey and discover the joys of cultivating these remarkable plants. Happy gardening! For more insights on the benefits of elderberries, check out this related article on the healing properties of elderberries. Learn more about gardening with Taim.io!

[biovitaliaorganics]

Maximize Your Health with Milk Thistle: A Guide for Men

In today’s fast-paced world, men’s health often takes a backseat to busy schedules and endless commitments. However, maintaining optimal health is crucial for living a balanced and fulfilling life. Enter milk thistle capsules, a natural supplement gaining traction for its potential health benefits tailored specifically for men.

What is Milk Thistle?

Milk thistle (Silybum marianum) is a flowering herb related to the daisy family. Known for its distinct purple flowers and white veins, milk thistle has been used for centuries as a natural remedy for a variety of ailments. The active ingredient, silymarin, is a powerful antioxidant believed to have numerous health benefits.

Benefits of Milk Thistle for Men

Liver Health Support: Milk thistle is renowned for its liver-protective properties. For men who enjoy occasional indulgence or are exposed to environmental toxins, milk thistle can help detoxify and maintain liver health.

Enhanced Athletic Performance: Regular exercise is vital for men’s health, and milk thistle may support muscle recovery and reduce oxidative stress caused by intense workouts.

Prostate Health: Emerging studies suggest that milk thistle might play a role in supporting prostate health, an important consideration for aging men.

Skin Health: The antioxidant properties of milk thistle can also aid in maintaining healthy skin, reducing the effects of aging and environmental damage.

Cholesterol Management: Some research indicates that milk thistle can help maintain healthy cholesterol levels, supporting cardiovascular health.

Why Choose Milk Thistle Capsules?

Our milk thistle capsules are specifically formulated for men, ensuring you receive the optimal dosage in a convenient form. Each capsule is packed with high-quality silymarin extract, rigorously tested for purity and potency.

How to Incorporate Milk Thistle into Your Routine

Taking milk thistle capsules is easy and can be seamlessly integrated into your daily routine. Simply take the recommended dosage with water, preferably with a meal to enhance absorption.

Final Thoughts

Prioritizing health is essential for a fulfilling life. Milk thistle capsules offer a natural, effective way for men to support various aspects of their health. Whether you’re looking to boost liver function, enhance athletic performance, or maintain skin health, milk thistle could be a valuable addition to your wellness regimen.

Unlock the potential of milk thistle and discover a healthier you. Ready to make a change? Try our milk thistle capsules today!

[naturefusion]

Unlocking the Secrets of Lavender Essential Oil: Nature's Tranquilizer

In the realm of aromatherapy, few essential oils possess the allure and therapeutic potency of lavender. Revered for its calming fragrance and versatile applications, lavender essential oil has earned its place as a cherished remedy for promoting relaxation and well-being. This article delves deeper into the wonders of lavender essential oil, exploring its origins, therapeutic benefits, and practical uses in daily life.

Origins and Production: Lavender, scientifically known as Lavandula angustifolia, is a fragrant perennial herb native to the Mediterranean region. The plant's delicate purple flowers have been prized for centuries for their aromatic and medicinal properties. Lavender essential oil is extracted through steam distillation of the plant's flowers, resulting in a potent elixir that encapsulates the essence of this beloved botanical.

Therapeutic Properties: The therapeutic benefits of lavender essential oil are vast and varied, making it a staple in holistic wellness practices. At the forefront of its healing properties is its ability to promote relaxation and reduce stress and anxiety. Inhalation of lavender essential oil has been shown to have a calming effect on the nervous system, helping to alleviate tension and induce a sense of tranquility.

Furthermore, lavender essential oil exhibits analgesic properties, making it an effective remedy for soothing headaches, muscle aches, and joint pain. Its anti-inflammatory qualities contribute to its pain-relieving effects, providing natural relief from discomfort and inflammation.

In addition to its physical benefits, lavender essential oil is renowned for its skincare prowess. Its gentle yet potent antimicrobial properties make it an ideal ingredient for addressing various skin concerns, including acne, eczema, and minor wounds. Moreover, its ability to balance sebum production and promote cell regeneration makes it a valuable ally in achieving clear, radiant skin.

Practical Uses: The versatility of lavender essential oil lends itself to a myriad of practical applications in daily life. Here are some common ways to incorporate lavender essential oil into your wellness routine:

Aromatherapy: Diffuse lavender essential oil in your home or workspace to create a peaceful atmosphere and promote relaxation.

Topical Application: Dilute lavender essential oil with a carrier oil, such as coconut or jojoba oil, and apply it to pulse points or areas of tension for a calming massage experience.

Bath Soak: Add a few drops of lavender essential oil to your bathwater for a luxurious and soothing soak that melts away stress and promotes relaxation.

Sleep Aid: Place a few drops of lavender essential oil on your pillow or bed linens to promote restful sleep and alleviate insomnia.

Household Freshener: Mix lavender essential oil with water in a spray bottle and use it as a natural air freshener to purify the air and uplift the senses.

Conclusion: Lavender essential oil stands as a testament to the power of nature in promoting relaxation, wellness, and vitality. From its origins in ancient times to its modern-day applications, lavender essential oil continues to captivate with its enchanting fragrance and profound therapeutic benefits. Whether diffused in the air, applied to the skin, or incorporated into daily rituals, lavender essential oil offers a gentle yet effective means of nurturing mind, body, and spirit in the quest for holistic well-being.

[purplestickynvhd]

Purple Kratom: Title: Exploring the Benefits of Purple Sticky™ Kratom: A Comprehensive Guide In the realm of natural remedies, Kratom has garnered significant attention for its myriad of potential benefits. Among the leading brands in the market, Purple Sticky™ stands out as a reliable source for high-quality Kratom products. Whether you're seeking capsules, powders, extracts, liquids, or tinctures, Purple Sticky™ offers a diverse range to suit your preferences and needs.Kratom, derived from the Mitragyna speciosa tree native to Southeast Asia, has been traditionally used for its medicinal properties for centuries. Its active compounds, known as alkaloids, interact with the body's receptors, producing various effects that have captivated users worldwide.One of the primary reasons individuals turn to Kratom is for its potential in promoting relaxation and mood elevation. Whether you're dealing with stress, anxiety, or simply seeking a sense of calm, Kratom may offer a natural solution. Many users report feeling a sense of euphoria and heightened well-being after consuming Kratom products from Purple Sticky™.Moreover, Kratom is renowned for its analgesic properties, making it a popular choice for individuals seeking relief from chronic pain conditions. From migraines to joint discomfort, Kratom's pain-relieving effects can provide much-needed comfort without the dependency associated with conventional pain medications.Beyond its physical benefits, Kratom has also been praised for its potential in facilitating introspection and enhancing the exploration of one's inner state. Users often describe experiencing heightened focus, creativity, and a deeper connection to their emotions and surroundings.However, it's crucial to note that while Kratom offers promising benefits, it's essential to use it responsibly and be aware of local regulations. Purple Sticky™ emphasizes the importance of customers familiarizing themselves with their area's laws regarding Kratom before making a purchase. Additionally, the brand prioritizes discreet shipping to ensure customers receive their orders promptly and securely. In conclusion, Purple Sticky™ Kratom offers a diverse range of products that cater to various needs, whether you're seeking relaxation, pain relief, or inner exploration. With its commitment to quality and customer satisfaction, Purple Sticky™ stands as a trusted source for premium Kratom products. Experience the natural wonders of Kratom and unlock its potential with Purple Sticky™ today.

The article built by: Purple Kratom

[beardedbastardoutdoors]

Unlocking Nature's Bounty: The Surprising Benefits of Purple Dead Nettle

Uncover the wonders of Purple Dead Nettle! From creating delicious dishes to natural healing remedies, learn how this plant can enrich your life. Ideal for wellness enthusiasts and nature lovers. Explore its myriad benefits now! #Foraging #NaturalWellness

In the realm of survival and wilderness survival skills, foraging for edible plants ranks among the top ultimate abilities for outdoor adventurers. Learning how to identify and utilize the bounty nature offers not only connects us deeper with the wild but also equips us with essential sustenance knowledge. Among the plethora of edible plants, purple dead nettle stands out as a best-kept secret…

[preciousgemsurfacesslab]

Benefits Of Semi Precious Gemstone Slabs

Unlocking the Aesthetics and Vaastu Benefits Of Semi Precious Gemstone Slabs

Welcome to the world of Precious Gem Surfaces, where nature’s exquisite treasures meet interior design brilliance. Explore the Vaastu advantages of our exquisite gemstone slabs, each a masterpiece of nature’s beauty and energy. Discover how these precious stones can bring balance, positivity, and elegance to your living spaces. Semi-precious gemstone slabs, such as Amethyst, are believed to have significant Vaastu effects. Amethyst is renowned for its stress-relieving and calming properties, making it a valuable addition to Vaastu-compliant environments. According to Vaastu Shastra, Amethyst is associated with promoting tranquility, mental clarity, and spiritual awareness within a space. Its ability to dispel negative energy and enhance positive energy flow aligns with the principles of Vaastu, making it an ideal choice for creating harmonious and balanced living and working areas. The rich, deep purple hues of Amethyst are also believed to denote strength, stability, and peace, further enhancing its Vaastu specialties. Incorporating Amethyst slabs into interior design not only adds a touch of elegance but also contributes to fostering a serene and balanced atmosphere, in line with Vaastu principles. As a leading manufacturer and exporter of semi-precious gemstone slabs, we take pride in offering a stunning array of materials that redefine elegance and energy within your living spaces.

Our Gemstone Slabs Collection: A Kaleidoscope of Beauty

Rose Quartz Slabs: The gentle blush of rose quartz brings love, compassion, and harmony. Use it in your interiors to evoke feelings of tenderness and emotional balance.

Smokey Quartz Slabs: With its earthy hues, smokey quartz promotes grounding and protection. Incorporate it into your design to create a cozy, nurturing ambiance.

Agate Slabs: Agate, with its mesmerizing patterns, enhances creativity and stability. Let its natural beauty adorn your countertops or accent walls.

Petrified Wood Slabs: Petrified wood, a fossilized wonder, embodies ancient wisdom and grounding energy. It’s perfect for statement pieces or tabletops.

Jasper Slabs: Jasper, in its various colors, brings courage, strength, and vitality. Use it as a focal point in your interiors.

Black Obsidian Slabs: Black obsidian shields against negativity and purifies the energy. Consider it for striking feature walls.

Amethyst Slabs: Amethyst’s regal purple hues promote tranquility and spiritual growth. Let it infuse your space with serenity.

Labradorite Slabs: Labradorite’s iridescence captivates the eye and stimulates intuition. Use it for backsplashes or fireplace surrounds.

Vaastu Advantages: Harmonizing Energy

Each gemstone slab carries unique energies aligned with Vaastu principles. Here’s how they enhance your interior design:

Rose Quartz: Rose Quartz slabs are a symbol of love and harmony, radiantly emitting frequencies of love and compassion. These slabs are a perfect addition to spaces seeking to cultivate a sense of unconditional love, connection, and balance. The gentle pink hues of Rose Quartz invite you to embrace self-love, nurturing, and compassion, fostering strong relationships and friendships. As a powerful heart opener, Rose Quartz slabs are known to promote harmony and balance in your life, transforming negative energy into love and positivity. Incorporating Rose Quartz slabs into your home or office can create a harmonious and loving environment. Use them as wall decor, tabletops, countertops, or even as feng shui remedies to harness their powerful energy. Embrace the love and harmony that Rose Quartz slabs have to offer, and experience the transformative power of unconditional love in your daily life. Radiating love and compassion, Rose Quartz is known to bring harmony to relationships. Utilize this slab to infuse your spaces with love energy and foster emotional well-being. Place it in the bedroom for love and emotional healing.

Smokey Quartz: Smokey Quartz semi-precious stone slabs are revered in Vaastu for their grounding and protective properties. Placing them in the home or office is believed to dispel negative energy and promote emotional stability. Smokey Quartz slabs can enhance clarity of thought and decision-making, fostering a sense of calm and balance in the environment. Integrating them into living spaces invites a harmonious flow of energy, creating a sanctuary of peace and tranquillity. Ideal for the living room or study, it dispels negativity and promotes clarity.

Agate: With its soothing hues, promotes calmness and tranquillity. Incorporate this slab into your spaces to enhance communication, reduce stress, and foster a serene environment. Blue Agate slabs are a stunning addition to any space, known for their ability to create a calming and soothing ambiance, making them a perfect choice for those seeking tranquillity and sophistication in their surroundings. The vibrant blue tones of Blue Agate effortlessly infuse a sanctuary of serenity within your home, while its unique natural patterns add a touch of elegance to any interior. Beyond its aesthetic appeal, Blue Agate emits calming and soothing vibrations that may help in cooling off fiery and strong emotions, reflecting its potential to provide healing on physical, emotional, mental, and spiritual levels. This semi-precious gemstone is not only beautiful but also strong and durable, making it suitable for a variety of applications, including home decor, tabletops, countertops, walls, and floors. Whether used for meditation or as a design feature, Blue Agate slabs offer a unique blend of beauty and tranquillity, making them a valuable addition to any space. Use it in meditation rooms or as decorative accents for balance and protection.

Petrified Wood: Petrified wood semi-precious stone slabs in Vaastu are known for their grounding properties, promoting stability and balance in living spaces. They alleviate stress, enhance creativity, and offer protection against negative energies. Incorporating these slabs brings natural tranquillity and connection to the environment, fostering harmonious energy flow in the home. Grounding energy for entryways or dining areas.

Jasper: Jasper semi-precious stone slabs are valued in Vaastu for their nurturing and protective qualities. Placing them strategically in the home is believed to enhance stability and promote a sense of security. Jasper slabs are thought to instil courage, strength, and vitality, inspiring a positive outlook on life. Integrating Jasper into living spaces encourages a harmonious balance of energy, fostering a grounded and serene atmosphere. Boost creativity in home offices or creative spaces.

Black Obsidian: Black Obsidian semi-precious stone slabs hold powerful Vaastu effects, known for their grounding and protective properties. Placing them in key areas of the home or office is believed to ward off negativity and absorb harmful energies. Black Obsidian slabs promote clarity of mind, offering a shield against psychic attacks and unwanted influences. Integrating Black Obsidian into living spaces fosters a sense of strength, stability, and spiritual well-being, creating a sanctuary of balance and protection. Shield your home from negative influences by placing it near entrances.

Amethyst: Amethyst slabs are a manifestation of spiritual serenity and tranquillity. This semi-precious gemstone is renowned for its powerful and protective properties, with elevated spiritual vibrations that inspire a peaceful state of being and soothe the body and mind. The stunning purple hues of Amethyst have long been associated with peace, serenity, and grace, making it a must-have for those seeking to balance intuition with logic and increase focus. Incorporating Amethyst slabs into your living or working space can create a harmonious and calming environment, promoting inner peace, serenity, and a heightened sense of spiritual well-being. Whether used as home decor, meditation spaces, or healing environments, Amethyst slabs offer a unique blend of beauty and spiritual tranquillity, making them a valuable and transformative addition to any space. Known for its spiritual properties, Amethyst promotes calmness and enhances spiritual awareness. Integrate this slab into your space for a serene and spiritually uplifting atmosphere. Create a serene atmosphere in bedrooms or meditation corners.

Labradorite: Labradorite semi-precious stone slabs are esteemed in Vaastu for their transformative and mystical qualities. Placing Labradorite in living spaces is believed to enhance intuition and spiritual awareness. Known as the “stone of magic,” Labradorite promotes inner strength, creativity, and psychic protection. Integrating Labradorite into the home fosters a harmonious energy flow, inviting balance, inspiration, and a deeper connection to the spiritual realm. Enhance intuition and spiritual connection in any room.

Visit our website Precious Gem Surfaces to explore our gemstone slabs collection. Discover the perfect blend of aesthetics, energy, and Vaastu wisdom. Let your interiors shine with the brilliance of nature’s gems!

Remember, when you choose Precious Gem Surfaces, you’re not just selecting slabs; you’re inviting timeless beauty and positive vibrations into your home.

Website — www.preciousgemsurfaces.com

Address- S.P. 11, Paryavaran Marg, IVth Phase, RIICO Industrial Area, Madanganj-Kishangarh (305801) District — AJMER(Raj), INDIA

Mobile — +91–9414012231 Email-info@preciousgemsurfaces.com

Social Links: https://www.facebook.com/preciousgemsurfaces https://twitter.com/surfaces_gem https://www.tumblr.com/semipreciousgemstoneslabs https://in.pinterest.com/preciousgemsurfaces/ https://www.instagram.com/preciousgemsurfaces https://www.reddit.com/user/preciousgemsurfaces

[luxurypropertiesworld]

Vastu and Feng shui tips for Wealth and Happiness

I. Introduction

In the pursuit of a prosperous and joyous life, the ancient practices of Vastu and Feng Shui offer valuable insights. Combining the principles of both can create a harmonious environment that attracts wealth and promotes happiness.

II. The Convergence of Vastu and Feng Shui

Vastu and Feng Shui, originating from Indian and Chinese cultures respectively, share a common goal – achieving balance and positive energy in living and working spaces. By understanding the intersection of these two practices, one can unlock the secrets to a more fulfilling life.

III. Key Vastu Principles for Wealth

Directional Placement

Vastu emphasizes the significance of directional placement to harness positive energies. Placing the wealth-related zones, like the treasury or cash box, in the north or east direction is believed to invite financial prosperity.

Energy Flow

Ensuring a smooth flow of energy is vital. Remove obstacles and clutter to allow energy to circulate freely, bringing abundance into your home.

IV. Essential Feng Shui Practices for Happiness

Five Elements Theory

Feng Shui introduces the concept of the five elements – wood, fire, earth, metal, and water. Balancing these elements in your home or office is key to promoting happiness and well-being.

Bagua Map

Use the Bagua Map to identify specific areas related to wealth and happiness in your living space. Enhance these areas with suitable colors, symbols, and elements to amplify positive energy.

V. Magnets for Wealth in Vastu

Prosperity Tips

Vastu provides practical tips for attracting wealth. Placing a money plant in the southeast corner of your home and keeping the northeast corner clean and clutter-free are believed to enhance financial well-being.

Mirrors for Abundance

Strategically placing mirrors can multiply positive energies and symbolically double your wealth. Ensure that mirrors reflect beautiful or valuable objects to attract abundance.

VI. Feng Shui Cures for Positive Vibes

Plants and Symbols

Incorporate plants like bamboo and symbols like the laughing Buddha to bring positive energy into your home. These elements are believed to attract joy and prosperity.

Color Psychology

Choose colors wisely. Feng Shui associates specific colors with different aspects of life. For wealth and happiness, consider using shades of green, purple, red, and gold.

VII. Balancing Energies in Vastu

Water Features

Integrate water features, such as fountains or aquariums, to balance energies. Water symbolizes wealth and its gentle flow signifies a steady income.

De-cluttering Techniques

Follow Vastu's principle of de-cluttering. A clutter-free space not only attracts positive energy but also allows room for new opportunities.

VIII. Symbols for Good Luck in Feng Shui

Lucky Charms

Feng Shui is rich in symbols believed to bring good luck. Place symbols like the money frog, wealth ship, or lucky cat strategically to invite positive energies.

Fu Dogs and Money Frogs

These symbols, when placed at the entrance, are believed to protect your home from negative energies and attract wealth and prosperity.

IX. Creating Harmony in Vastu

Bedroom and Living Room Harmony

Follow Vastu guidelines for arranging bedrooms and living rooms. Ensure that furniture is placed harmoniously to promote positive energy flow and happiness.

X. Avoiding Common Mistakes

Rectifying Errors

Be aware of common mistakes in Vastu and Feng Shui. Rectify errors such as misplaced mirrors or blocked energy flow promptly to maintain a harmonious environment.

XI. Infusing Positive Energy with Remedies

Crystals and Gemstones

Use crystals and gemstones like amethyst, citrine, and clear quartz to infuse positive energy into your living space. These stones are associated with wealth and positivity.

XII. Activating Wealth Corners with Feng Shui

Strategic Placement

Identify and activate wealth corners in your home or office using Feng Shui principles. Placing symbols and elements associated with wealth in these areas can attract financial abundance.

XII. Real-Life Success Stories

Inspiring Transformation

Explore real-life success stories where individuals experienced positive transformations in their lives by incorporating Vastu and Feng Shui practices. Witness how these ancient arts have brought prosperity and joy to homes and businesses.

XIV. Conclusion

In the dynamic dance of Vastu and Feng Shui, the keys to wealth and happiness are revealed. By embracing these ancient practices, you invite positivity, balance, and prosperity into your life, creating a haven of joy and abundance.

[napalmvein]

Vince couldn't recall the last time he was able to sleep soundly due to being an insomniac. Ironically when it came to serious injuries his body happened to give out from exhaustion, allowing him to get some needed rest in. A canine companion lied on a multicolored rug right next to his bed, taking the role of a protector from sensing his owner wasn't in the best shape, amber eyes stared directly ahead through the crack of the bedroom door in hopes something would come through. Unaware of when sleep finally claimed him, he suddenly found himself being woken by the abrupt sound of large paws stampeding across the floor and a deep growl to alert they had company. He didn't want to wake, arm moving to pull another pillow over his head in attempt to tune out the noise. If Julian wanted in that bad the man had a key, but the knocking never ceased.

Sighing heavily through his nose, eyelids forcefully snapped open when the pounding at the door and the noise from the hybrid dog became much more intense, pillow being flung weakly across the king-sized bed. "Son of a bitch." The clock read three-thirty a.m. and he haphazardly threw blankets aside and stood up quickly, regretting that decision instantly when black dots clouded his vision while the room began to spin. It'd been almost too dark to see without the assistance of a night light, so he turned on the bedside lamp. Squinting while he walked, arms bending behind his head and chest becoming tight as he stretched, slowly dragging his feet across the bedroom floor while snatching his robe in the process. Every Saturday involved a repetitive routine, staying out until the early hours of the morning and coming home stumbling while leaving a trail of bloody clothes in his path. The only remedy involved dressing his wounds and soaking in the bathtub, all while a cigarette hung from his lips. This round didn't happen to go as planned, and Paul had to force him to go home after bug-man assisted. It was either that or the hospital, and Vince didn't want to have to go. Stubborn as he was, and because it supposedly wasn't severe enough for a visit.

"Alright, alright." Skull was pounding, bloodshot eyes felt as if they were going to bleed while optic nerves pulsed, muscles twitching from discomfort. He didn't know who in the hell would be at his doorstep at this hour, and boy was he ready to give this stranger a piece of his mind 'til he approached closer to hear a frantic voice shouting his name on top of a few more incoherent words. Clare? Was he dreaming? Signaling Balto to silence with a command, pointing and following the animal to go out the backdoor much to the disappointment of the canine. Grimacing while walking swiftly, he unlocked the front door, allowing her entry. There he stood with a slouched posture, looking like he came from hell and back, chest exposed, robe tied loosely around his waist, skin shined with a fine layer of sweat and hair sticking out in all directions.

The concern in her tone almost broke him in two when she walked inside, voice wavering, just knowing tears were threatening to fall. The only light visible being the one down the hall in his room, along with the moonlight shining through the curtains. Looking directly into her own when jaw was gently propped upward, black eye prominent, left eyebrow poorly stitched together and caked with dried blood, and a large cut on his cheekbone surrounded by pink, irritated skin. "Didn't win, I fucked up..." He grimaced while attempting to explain his loss, which did take a toll on his pride. Shaking his head, muscles tensed from sensitivity where she touched ribcage, almost recoiling at the fingers that traced his skin, a big bruise that held a mixture of purple and yellow formed on the area. "My head is killin' me, I'm just so tired and cold..." He sniffed and mumbled, no emotion behind his words, as if he were just a shell of a human. "And...it hurts to breathe at times. But uh, it'll pass." Poor attempt at consolation and no questioning of how she even found his personal whereabouts, but thankful for her presence.

@napalmvein ˙[ Closed starter -- side thread ]

The sound of rolling tires on moist gravel pierced the darkness of the unholy hour. If it weren't for the dim light that barely made its way through the high windows of the old Spanish colonial house, gloomy evening would have mercilessly engulfed everything around it when the American muscle's headlights went off. Scarlet haired woman didn't realize how long she had been driving, the beautiful peaceful landscape where the crickets serenaded the moon, the tall grass swaying gently in the hot breeze, the edge of the forest stretching along the north side of the valley. . . she would have admired everything while keeping the oxygen in her lungs if her tunnel focus had not been on the red dot on the smartphone screen, which showed the destination of the entered coordinates. Clare fought with fangs and claws like a she-wolf defending her cubs to get hold of those numbers, to get the ' map ' that would lead her to him.

She never forgot to close the door and turn the key in the lock of her tin pet, now -- the car was left with the driver's door wide open, while the feet swallowed the meters. . . Blood pump was beating mercilessly, pulse hitting the soft skin, lower lip smeared with a blooming scarlet drips because how much the woman was gnawing away from the nervousness that was ripping the guts. She leapt up four stairs like a gazelle on the run, grabbing the door and gasping for air -- she didn't even let up, didn't take a break. A fist slammed aggressively on the door at least five times before a clear, penetrating voice joined the din. " Vincent?! Vincet open up! " the full name left a strange aftertaste on soft muscle, she always used the shortened version.

Worry poured from every pore as the seconds of deafening silence became a minute. A couple of thunderous fresh knocks, this time hitting the underside of the weathered mahogany door with the tip of her sneaker. " Vincet, open the door! " The palms were covered with a thin layer of cold sweat, the stomach was heaving bile. . . What if he is not conscious? What if the injuries are so dangerous and severe that it is impossible to make a sound, let alone reach the door? The thought injected a new dose of trepidation, dread possessing the hourglass shape as some ancient demon. Darting to the nearest window and getting on the tip of the toes, jade irises jumped from left to right in dismay, like a pink pong ball that players throw over the net. A thick layer of dust and a handful of thrown things obstructed the clear view. Few curses fell between the gritted teeth as she lunged at the door again, ready to break the lock with a porch chair.

Clink

Like an angel's trumpet, the sound of the door unlocking froze her in place with relief, but that feeling evaporated like water in the burning sun when she saw a beautiful face full of cuts, a swollen eye, a stooped posture that was not at all characteristic of this man who exuded strength. .Fatigue, exhaustion, pain, and confusion marred everything that normally graced his attitude... drilling a hole in the readhead's heart. " Vinc. . . wha. . . " eyes glazed with teardrops caused by tremendous concern by witnessing Vince's agony, scanned him anxiously. Darting toward the man, delicate hand pressed on the prominent jaw, lifting his head up, other slipping under the ribs as if she wanted to hold him upright. " What happened?! Why aren't you in a damn hospital? " Pointless questions, knowing answer to both, but refusing to make peace with them. Fury rose along the other unpleasant emotions of the harsh fact that Paul rather had Vince in that damn bug-like man's ' one minute ' care to save himself from suspicion from the real doctors. " Where else are you hurt? Are you feeling nauseous, headache, weakness? " Checking the pupils but barely making anything in the pitch black of the night, Clare tenderly lowered the hand to his chest then slid it gently to his ribs. " Are any of your bones broken? Can you breathe normally? " Fearing that his hunched posture might be the result of a fractured ribs, she continued to examine him.

[northflorida1]

Unlocking the Power of Healthy Elderberry Juice

Are you looking for a natural way to boost your immune system and enhance your overall health? Look no further than healthy elderberry juice! Packed with antioxidants, vitamins, and minerals, elderberry juice has been celebrated for its numerous health benefits throughout history. In this article, we'll explore the wonders of healthy elderberry juice and why it's a must-have addition to your daily wellness routine.

What Makes Elderberry Juice So Special?

Elderberries are small, dark purple fruits that grow on the elder tree, known scientifically as Sambucus nigra. These berries have been used for centuries in traditional medicine due to their potent medicinal properties. When turned into juice, elderberries offer a convenient and delicious way to reap their health advantages.

1. Immune System Support

One of the key reasons why people turn to elderberry juice is its ability to support a healthy immune system. Elderberries are rich in antioxidants, particularly flavonoids like quercetin and anthocyanins, which help protect cells from oxidative stress and boost the body's natural defenses.

2. Cold and Flu Relief

Elderberry juice is a popular remedy for colds, flu, and upper respiratory infections. Studies have shown that elderberries can reduce the duration and severity of cold and flu symptoms, thanks to their anti-inflammatory and antiviral properties.

3. Heart Health Benefits

Regular consumption of elderberry juice may also benefit heart health. The antioxidants in elderberries help lower oxidative stress and inflammation in the body, which can contribute to better cardiovascular function and reduced risk of heart disease.

4. Rich in Nutrients

In addition to antioxidants, elderberry juice is a good source of vitamins and minerals essential for overall well-being. It contains vitamin C, vitamin A, potassium, and iron, all of which play vital roles in supporting a healthy body and immune system.

How to Incorporate Elderberry Juice Into Your Routine

Adding healthy elderberry juice to your daily routine is easy and delicious. You can enjoy it:

As a refreshing morning drink

Mixed into smoothies for an extra nutritional boost

Added to yogurt or oatmeal

Used as a base for homemade popsicles or sorbets

Why Choose Pure Premium Elderberry Juice from North Florida Elderberry?

When it comes to elderberry juice, quality matters. North Florida Elderberry offers pure premium elderberry juice made from organically grown elderberries with no added water. Their cold-pressed juice retains all the natural goodness of elderberries, healthy elderberry juice ensuring you get the maximum health benefits with every sip.

Conclusion

Healthy elderberry juice is a fantastic addition to any wellness regimen, providing immune support, cold and flu relief, heart health benefits, and a range of essential nutrients. Make the switch to pure premium elderberry juice from North Florida Elderberry and experience the power of nature's immune booster in every sip.

Ready to elevate your health with healthy elderberry juice? Visit North Florida Elderberry's shop today and start your journey towards a healthier you!

[dreworks]

HOW TO GET PURPLE REMEDY Style (Location & Unlock Guide)

* Visit 3 Different Bus Stops *

https://youtu.be/vVIbYIspEi8

 Hey Guys! New Year, New Challenges and New Guide Video! 😁

I just started my channel in May last year, but by the end of the year we were able to reach the 3600 Subscriber, which is absolutely AMAZING! 😱

💚Thank you all for all the help, likes and sharing you supported me last year! 💚

In this year, my goal is to grow our channel much further and reach the 10.000 Subscriber! 📈

I have a lot of plan in the future, so if you really like my contents and you are curious what you can see here in the future, make sure to join our Subscription Squad! Have a Wonderful Day Buddies! 💚

[pinknatural]

On Monday night, Cas kneels beside the bed and folds his hands, dipping his forehead against the blankets and closing his eyes, lips moving soundlessly. Dean sits on the bed, still as a statue, and watches him, afraid to move. 

When Cas straightens his head and uncurls, standing up, his eyes are wet with tears. Dean reaches for him and Cas falls onto the bed, presses his face into Dean’s neck, sobs silently. Dean holds him close, one hand cradling his head and the other rubbing his back, and he stares at their ceiling. 

Dear Jack, or God, or whoever, he prays. Please come back. Please come home. We miss you. 

On Tuesday morning, Dean untangles himself from Cas gently and brushes the hair from his forehead, presses a kiss to the uncovered skin. He gets out of bed and tiptoes out the door. He’ll get Cas some coffee. It’s the least he can do.

Dean’s chest feels tangled in knots, misery weighing heavily on him. All Dean can think about are his mistakes, all the ways he’s screwed up his kid. All the ways he’s done what he swore he’d never do, three nights after Sam left for Stanford, when he was curled up in a motel bathtub, hiding from his own father. 

But today’s not about Dean, or his guilt, or his pain. It’s about Cas, and it’s about Jack. 

Dean creeps down the stairs, holding the ends of the dead guy robe up so he doesn’t slip. He drops the fabric once he reaches the hardwood floor down below, and he heads for the kitchen. 

Something rattles, and he freezes.

There’s a knife tucked into the leather jacket hanging by the front door, and Dean slides his hand into the pocket, curls his fingers around the hilt. He glides on socked feet towards the kitchen, hoping it’s just Claire--but Claire never wakes up this early. 

From the kitchen, something clatters and falls. It sounds like bowls falling, and Dean takes bigger steps, readying his knife. When he turns the corner into the kitchen, though, it’s not a shitty robber or a demon or Claire or anything else Dean thought it might be. 

A chair from the kitchen table was dragged across the room, pushed up against the cabinets. The cabinet with the bowls is both open and empty, and the plastic bowls are scattered against the counter and floor. On top of the kitchen chair is a little boy--three or four, with blonde-brown hair and wide blue eyes. His little arms are reached out to the fallen bowls, as if he tried and failed to stop them from falling. He freezes and blinks at Dean, who stares back at him. 

“Dean!” the boy cries, and he jumps off the chair and runs full-tilt at Dean, wrapping his little arms around Dean’s leg and burying his face in Dean’s gut. Dean startles and crouches down, disrupting the kid’s hold. 

“Hey,” he says gently, unwilling to scare the kid. The little boy is beaming, a bright smile, little baby teeth lined up and gleaming. He has a smattering of freckles across his nose, and he’s wearing a pair of pink dinosaur pajama pants, with a slightly oversized Led Zeppelin t-shirt. His socks say DADDY’S LIL ANGEL on the top of his feet. Dean surveys the boy’s face again. “Jack?” he asks eventually, unsure who else it would be, and maybe a little too hopeful to be thinking straight. 

“Yes!” the boy--Jack, apparently--says, flinging his arms around Dean’s neck. Dean hugs him back, confused, and inhales. He smells like the strawberry shampoo he used at the Bunker. 

“Hey, buddy,” Dean says, and he stands, his back protesting at the crouch, pulling the little boy up with him. “How are you here? Why are you little?”

“I was all done!” Jack says proudly, spreading his arms out wide and nearly smacking Dean in the face. 

“All done?”

“All done!” Jack confirms. “I was soooo tired. So I came home! And now I want cereal.”

He wiggles in Dean’s arms, trying to get down. Dean yields, and Jack runs to the fallen bowls, picking up Claire’s favorite purple one. Dean watches, astounded, as Jack opens the cabinet but can’t reach the cereal. He follows and reaches for it, puts it on the counter. 

Jack is here. Jack is home. Jack is his actual age. Dean wonders if he has powers, then he decides it doesn’t matter. If he does, they can deal with that later. 

“Hey, Jack,” Dean says. “Come here.” 

Jack runs up to him, still clutching his bowl. He lifts his arms obediently, and Dean picks him up, gently takes the bowl from his hand and puts it on the counter. 

“You’re home?” Dean asks. “For good? This isn’t a dream?”

“I’m home!” Jack says, kicking his legs. “For ever and ever.” His eyes go wide and uncertain. “You said I could.”

“Yeah, buddy,” Dean says, a lump in his throat. “Of course I did.” He cups the back of Jack’s head and brings their foreheads together, wills away his tears. “Come on, you can have cereal in a little bit.” 

He turns away from the mess in his kitchen and towards the stairs. “How did you know we wouldn’t be at the Bunker?”

“I wanted to come home,” Jack says. “Not the Bunker.”

Dean blinks rapidly. Jack pokes the picture of his older self as they pass it on the stairwell. Dean stops at the top of the stairs, turns his head to the left to look at Claire’s bedroom, the door shut tight. 

“Shh,” Dean says, and Jack nods solemnly. 

“Shh,” he repeats. 

Dean turns his head to the right, to look at the door across from Claire’s. It’s shut, too, out of respect. They’ll go there later, Dean decides. They’ll see if Jack likes the decorations Cas put up, or if they’ll have to go to the store and change it. Dean will be thrilled either way. 

He keeps walking. His bedroom is at the end of the hall, past Claire’s bathroom, and Dean pushes open the door gently. 

“Okay,” he whispers to Jack. “You can jump, but only if you’re very careful.”

“Okay,” Jack whispers back, and Dean dumps him onto the bed. Jack stands and walks the three steps it takes to get him to the middle of the bed. He falls to his knees and pokes at Cas’s chest, then bounces on the mattress beside him. “Daddy, wake up.”

Dean’s heart melts, and Jack pokes at Cas’s cheek, then his nose. Cas doesn’t wake up, and Jack crawls on top of him. 

“Dadddyyyy,” he says. Cas startles, then blinks awake, bleary. Dean watches his eyes slit open, confused, and the blue eyes focus on the little boy sitting on his chest. Then Cas shoots upright, hands on Jack’s shoulders. 

He looks at Dean, who nods, then he looks back at Jack.

“Jack?” he whispers. 

“Daddy!” Jack says happily, then Cas squishes him to his chest, curling over him. 

“Jack,” he breathes. “Oh, you came back.”

“Yep!” Jack says, voice muffled, and Dean sits down, crawls onto the bed. 

“Apparently he was all done,” Dean says. 

“Yep!” Jack says again. “Auntie Amara said it was time to go home.”

“Of course it was,” Cas says, his voice fragile, and he rocks back and forth, holding Jack to his chest. He looks up at Dean, eyes wet, and Dean hugs him. 

They stay like that for a long moment, Jack pressed between them, clutching onto Cas’s shirt with tiny fingers. Dean exhales shakily and presses his forehead to Cas’s, then he remembers something. 

“Hey buddy,” he says. “Do you know what day it is?”

“Ummm,” Jack says. “Tuesday?”

“No, baby,” Cas says, sniffing. 

“No, it’s Tuesday,” Jack argues.

“Of course it is,” Dean says. “But do you know what else it is?”

“No,” Jack says. 

“It’s your birthday,” Dean says. “You’re four now.”

“Wow,” Jack says. He wiggles in excitement. “Does that mean we can have cake?”

“Of course we can,” Cas says, making a noise that sounds like a sob and a laugh at the same time. 

“And a biiiiiiggg party?” Jack asks. 

“The biggest,” Dean promises. 

“With Uncle Sammy?” Jack asks. Dean doesn’t know where he picked up “Uncle Sammy”, but he hopes Jack calls him that forever. 

“Of course,” Dean says. “I’ll call him in a few minutes. We’ll call everyone.”

“Everyone?” Jack asks. 

“Everyone,” Dean says. 

“Even Kaia?”

“Especially Kaia,” Dean says. He looks at Cas, realizing that he’s not the only person living in this house, but Cas doesn’t seem like he’s about to argue. In fact, he’s making his calculations face--probably wondering who to invite, who can get here on time and so last minute. 

Dean realizes, suddenly, that Claire and Jack have never met. They’ll have to remedy that. 

They can, now. 

They can do anything, Dean realizes, as they get out of bed and Cas says something about no baby clothes and Jack protests that he’s not a baby, as they tiptoe past Claire’s room to retrieve the promised cereal. Dean unlocks his phone on autopilot, opening the phone app and turning to the favorites tab. When Dean was four, his family was destroyed. 

Claire comes downstairs, Miracle in tow, and she shakes Jack’s hand solemnly. Sam screams over the phone. Rowena shows up in half an hour with a closet full of clothes fit for a four year old. Eileen and Sam bring balloons and streamers. 

Cas is alive, Dean thinks while he mixes the cake. Sam is hanging up streamers across the room. Jody and the girls bustle in with enough food to feed an army. Claire lets Jack climb on her, looking a bit frightened and a bit resigned. Kaia helps Jack put on a tutu over his jeans. Dean slides the cake into the oven, and watches Eileen teach Alex how to sign happy birthday. 

Jack is here now. He’s here and he’s four, and Dean’s family was destroyed when he was four, and now his son is four years old. 

“Our family’s all together,” Dean whispers into Cas’s ear. Cas kisses him briefly. Dean had tried to keep track of their kisses, at first, but he’s lost count. 

“Yes,” Cas says, eyes bright. “They are.”

(ao3)

[carelesscreativity]

Kross Fatal Sparring: Gift for ShironuK

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

[Based on this Thread: https://twitter.com/shironusins/status/1385432090225909763?s=21]

(SFW, Blood, Angst, Dismemberment)

Killer felt so... itchy. He felt one of his sockets twitch as he stared straight ahead, his empty eyes fixed on the wall across from the bed. He was laying back against the backboard, having been sharpening his knife. His arms had suddenly fallen limp in his lap, his soul having given a sudden, violent spark that had rattled him and left a tingling along his bones. It wasn't a comfortable one. He felt a pressure and quickly realized that he had been holding his breath the whole time.

He shakily exhaled, watching as a billowing cloud of glowing red mist escaped his jaws. He supposed that was his LV flare for the day. It was the shortest one he'd had in a while and even the most painless. He furrowed his brow and after another moment of recovering, slowly began to sharpen his knife on the whetstone once more. He was so focused on that, he nearly had a soul attack at a knock on his door. He stared at it for a moment, his mind not quite clicking before it caught up to him. "Hold on!" He called.

He slipped out of the bed and stretched, figuring he already knew who it was. He always showed up around this time. Killer picked up his knife, slipping it up his sleeve and moving over to the door, unlocking and opening. "Hey there. Come to see me?" He asked teasingly. Cross scoffed and rolled his eyes. He opened his jaws and Killer was already out the door, shutting it behind him. "Hell yeah, I would love kick your ass."

"We're sparring." Cross said flatly, scoffing warmly as Killer turned to look back at him with an innocent smile and a shrug. Cross' eyes flicked to his soul for just a moment, the target glowing much brighter than usual. Killer got his attention with his snarky, teasing voice.

"That's what I said, isn't it?" Killer led the way down to the training room, his smile only faltering once he was turned away from Cross. He furrowed his brow just for a moment, wondering why he still felt so itchy. It wasn't the kind of itch that he could scratch. It was one that was deepset in his bones and marrow. It was inside and Killer wasn't sure he'd felt something like that before.

They reached the large, open room and Killer gave an abrupt spin to face Cross, turning on his heel and giving a lazy smile. The soldier almost ran right into him, nearly jumping out of his bones. "You need to stop doing that." He said gruffly, a soft purple dusting along his cheeks. Killer reached up and Cross raised a brow in response before sighing as Killer traced his fingers over his cheek with a grin.

"Why would I stop? You always look so pretty when I do it." Killer's feverishly bright soul allowed itself to bend just a little and the faintest eyelights were seen in Killer's usually empty sockets as he grinned. "Alright!" He turned away and walked a few feet ahead, slipping his knife out of his sleeve and into his hand. He spun back to face him with that teasing grin, ignoring the prickling. It was spreading from his soul, he realized, having been unable to pinpoint the origin earlier. He got into a starting position, watching Cross summon his large knife and do the same.

Killer's head was swimming and his thoughts kept slipping out of his grasp. The match began, both of them fast and precise. The blows exchanged between them would be superficial if they ever landed. He knew the others liked watching the two of them spar and would probably already be coming to see them. The clanging and clinking of metal on metal echoed through the training room, the prickling becoming more and more powerful. The sounds were blurring, but Killer kept his body moving.

He didn't even feel like he was the one moving it though. His body was on autopilot, acting without his mind being fully attached. He wasn't focused on the fight. Killer was SO itchy. Mid-strike, his soul gave a powerful crackle and it made him stumble just long enough to miss a dodge. There was a faint searing pain across his cheek and Killer felt something spilling down his face. It wasn't more than a cut, he could tell that much. But the way his soul suddenly flared up made his bones feel electrocuted. He was in danger. He was in danger and that had to be remedied.

He was on his opponent in an instant, pinning them hard enough for their head to crack against the ground. Killer's body was still on autopilot and he couldn't even really see. All he saw was red and black and brightness. It was so fucking bright. He couldn't speak and even if he was, he couldn't hear himself. HE WAS SO FUCKING ITCHY. His arms were moving. His arms were moving and he could hear noises that were comforting and familiar though the itchiness, which was quickly becoming painful. His eyesockets were no longer empty, but they were pitch black and melting down his face. A true visage of terror and a picture perfect reminder of what he was. He felt like he was melting on DETERMINATION.

Screaming. He could hear screaming but he couldn't tell who's it was. He had sheared straight through his opponent's armor, aiming at the same spot over and over, liquid spilling through his fingers and the familiarity of it all was sending him on a high like he'd never experienced. He dug the knife in and yanked it downwards, breaking through everything in his path before resorting to frantic stabbing wherever he could hit. His entire body felt like it was on fire and he was pretty sure he was smiling as he felt marrow spatter his face and felt the crunching of bone beneath him. It was all so much. It was all so much and he was living for it. He needed more to satiate that burning itch all over his body. INSIDE his body. He needed MORE. He needed-

"KILLER!" The itch went cold. The prickling felt like it was retreating into his soul and all of a sudden, he was aware. He was shaking. He was shaking from the exhilaration and everything was still too much. His hands were wet. He could feel the liquid hate running down his face, but there was something else he couldn't identify. He was breathing so hard. It felt like he'd just run 300,000 miles and he was gasping down air. He was shaking so hard. He wasn't itchy anymore.

He became... aware. His opponent. His entire body went cold and he didn't want to tilt his head down. He forced himself to anyway and met Cross' empty eyelights. Cross' face was intact, give a couple of purple spatters and the tears streaming down his face. It was everything below it that was now the problem. His uniform had been torn straight open, the edges frayed and it now being more purple than it was white (He had sheared straight through his opponent's armor). His right arm had been completely shattered off, the ground below cracked from the force of his attack (aiming at the same spot over and over). His ribcage had the worst of it, the ribs broken in a straight line from his collarbone to the edge, just BARELY missing his sternum (He dug the knife in and yanked it downwards, breaking everything in his path).

Cross looked dead. He looked dead and Killer stared at him. He couldn't. He couldn't be... He couldn't. A glow caught his eye and he looked over, blinking the liquid hate from his eyesockets to see that Cross was holding his own soul loosely in his hand, having gotten it out of his ribcage before Killer had attacked. His ribcage was covered in stab wounds. His large red knife was completely gone. Killer could feel his arms drenched halfway up to his elbows in purple blood and his knife wasn't even shining anymore. Hadn't he just sharpened it? He loosened his grip on the handle and watched the purple blade fall to the ground and clatter a bit away, the sound echoing through the room. He heard footsteps.

Then, it struck Killer just who's voice had yelled his name and by the time he realized, he was already being yanked off of Cross by several tentacles around his limbs. He was tossed backwards and caught, being laid on his back. Though he'd heard and thought and seen so clearly for a few moments, he was back in a blurred world, the sounds faint and muffled. He was itchy again. Someone else had him and he managed to process a faint glow again, this one a wide eyelight ringed in red, blue and purple. Killer was focused on the dark shape of Nightmare hunched over Cross' broken body.

His voice sounded far away and panicked as someone else grabbed Killer from the other side. He could see the red glow of another eyelight fixed on him. He had the vague idea that he was being restrained and he gave a quiet nod. He was so itchy. He was so, so itchy. He dropped back as his soul gave another violent flare, his vision being swamped in that bright, bright red again as he opened his jaws. He was probably screaming, but he couldn't hear it at all. Black was creeping into the edges of his vision and he collapsed against the ground as it came rushing in, effectively silencing him and shutting him off to the blurred world around him.

————————————

The knock on Killer’s bedroom door was slow. He didn’t move. If it was Nightmare like usual, he would just teleport in when Killer didn’t open the door. He kept himself buried in his blankets in the dark. The curtains had been shut for a long time. It had been nearly two months and Nightmare still couldn’t even send Killer on a mission. Killer couldn’t stand being in the light because it would show. He would see it. The reminder of what he did.

They’d cleaned him up best they could, but Cross’ blood seemed to have permanently stained his bones a faint purple. Killer couldn’t look at his arms or hands without feeling that itchiness and a devastating chill through his entire body. The bedroom was illuminated only faintly by a thin strip of sunlight through the curtains. He was thinking about him again. He was thinking about Cross. He was thinking about when he’d visited him in his bedroom about three weeks after the incident.

Nightmare had been there to monitor both of them, holding Killer’s soul in his hands since he knew the negativity Killer would have from just seeing Cross would break him if not drained immediately. The soldier seemed to be stained with his own blood as well. Killer had managed to apologize to him in a tearful mess. Cross had accepted it, but when Killer had clasped his hands in front of himself, Cross had flinched so hard that there had been a soft crack and new blood had appeared, soaking through his bandages.

Killer had stared at it and Cross had begun to say something, but Killer was already long gone. They hadn’t seen each other since. No one had seen Killer, in fact, except for Nightmare, who stopped by constantly to check on him and drain the negativity that would build up and fester in his target soul. There was another knock before Nightmare’s familiar presence was felt in his room. Killer didn’t move until a voice he wasn’t expecting shocked him straight up out of his covers.

“Killer?” Cross’ voice was quiet and Killer turned to look with wide eyes. Before he even processed it, his body had moved to the farthest edge of his bed. Cross stared at him from next to Nightmare’s side. He looked exactly the same as before the incident in the dim light of the bedroom. Nightmare moved around to where Killer was, holding out his hand. Killer released his soul to him without a second thought, his eyes still fixed on Cross. His arms burned.

“Yeah.” Killer’s voice sounded broken.

Nightmare had already started pulling shame and guilt from him, moving away to stand across the room from both of them. Cross seemed hesitant before he came over, sitting on the edge of the bed farthest from Killer to give him space. He sighed. “I don’t blame you.” He said quietly. Killer stared at him for a moment. He didn’t understand. “I know that probably doesn’t make much sense, but please just know that I don’t blame you.” Cross said, giving a very weak smile.

It sent a pang straight to Killer’s soul. He missed seeing that smile. But Cross was so stupid. He was so stupid to forgive him so easily, especially for what Killer had done to him. He was far too forgiving. Far too merciful. Killer didn’t deserve any of that. Before he knew it, something else was spilling over his eyesockets along with the liquid hate. He prayed his tears weren’t that visible, but the way Cross’ shoulders sank and his smile faltered didn’t give Killer much hope. “I’m sorry.” Killer said shakily. Cross blinked and nodded, saying that he knew. “Cross...”

Nightmare was pulling a lot of negativity from him now. Cross blinked and sighed. “Killer, it’s okay.” Killer shook his head, burying it in his hands. “You didn’t hit my soul.”

“What if I had, Cross?? What if I had killed you on that dirty fucking floor???” Killer was shaking as he spoke. Cross blinked before saying that he hadn’t. He stared at Killer for a moment before moving a little closer to him. He sat in the middle of the bed now and Killer was staring at him with wide eyes. He placed his hands at his sides and Cross felt his entire body lock up for a moment at the sudden movement. He quickly relaxed, but Killer had already noticed.

The sadness and shame that Nightmare had to pull would feed him for millenniums, but he didn’t want that. Cross blinked before trying something else. “H-Hey, how about I bring up some snacks and hot chocolate? We usually would have some after we spar anyway, right?” Killer blinked tearfully at him and Cross tried for a smile. “I’ll go make it and bring it up, okay? We can talk about this... okay?”

Killer stared at him for another few moments. Cross may have already forgiven him, but he clearly wasn’t unaffected. And just because Cross had forgiven him didn’t mean that Killer forgave himself. This could be a step, at least, back to whatever they’d had before. He finally managed a quiet nod and Cross visibly perked up. Killer managed to meet his gaze as he whispered a quiet ‘okay.’

[aquaticstyles]

unchained

A while ago I was asked for a “Have You Ever Been In Love” sequel, and while this is probably not the direction you guys were expecting, this is what I came up with. Also, this one’s (loosely) inspired by the song “Scott Street” by the lovely Phoebe Bridgers (highly recommend listening to the spotify sessions version while listening). Fun fact, for forever I misheard the lyrics, thinking she was saying “unchained” instead of “ashamed.” After noticing that I have, in fact, been wrong this entire time, I realized I kinda liked my version better (sorry Phoebe). And, me being me, I ran with it and it spun into this quick, 1.4k part two. Reblogs + feedback help so much! Enjoy!! xx, Jane 

“Have you ever been in love?”

Harry’s heart stops.

The question catches him off guard, and not just because he’s not used to interviewers asking such personal ones (he guesses this is what he signed up for when he agreed to be the first male flying solo on the cover of Vogue). It makes his heart stop because of his answer, because of the woman that had once asked him the same exact question.

Harry has never been one to linger in his sadness; he finds it unproductive, and quite honestly, completely depressing. After a break up, one can find the caramel-colored curls belonging to the world’s latest phenomenon sweating out his sorrow, or frustration, at the gym, pounding the boxing bag again and again and again. “Nothing another set can’t fix,” his trainer, Mike, would often tease the man in denial, knowing good and well by his posture upon entering the ring, slumped shoulders and an ever-present crease between his eyebrows, that another one had bit the dust the night prior. Mike had learned fairly quickly to never ask questions, to simply let Harry work out his emotions as he pleases, even if that means letting him walk out with wrapped fists masking throbbing, crimson knuckles.

Harry has never been one to talk about his sadness either; he finds it prolongs the pain rather than diminishing it, an annoying gnat swarming around an abnormally large bite from a crisp apple, halting his progression in enjoying his afternoon snack because he just can’t catch the bloody thing. His sister has tried to break him from his stubborn ways, even resulting to getting the lanky man drunk off tequila in hopes of him finally opening up about his incessant missed targets; however, that only ever ends up with Gemma’s arms holding up the giggling teddy bear and folding his bulky body into a taxi, mimicking cramming a cotton ball into a straw. Therapy was suggested and waved off with an inked palm, because if he doesn’t want to talk to his sister about it, how on earth is he supposed to talk to a stranger?

Never-ending claims of “I’m fine,” and “It just didn’t work out,” and “Don’t worry ‘bout me,” and “It wasn’t even that serious.” Sure, each breakup took a little something out of the man that insisted he was “fine,” but eventually, a couple dozen inked journal pages later, Harry would be back to his normal, happy-go-lucky, perfectly-kind self.

All of these rang true for most of Harry’s young adulthood.

All of these were common occurrences, that is, until Harry met you.

You were unlike anyone he had ever met. Selfless, but not in an over-bearing, walk-all-over-me kind of way. Funny, but not in an underlying-hatred, fake-laugh kind of way. Genuine, but not in a look-at-me, fake kind of way. Honest, in a I-want-to-know-everything-that-makes-you-you, ask-you-questions-until-the-sun-rises kind of way. Drop-dead-gorgeous in the most unbelievable, glowing, ethereal, kind of way that he constantly reminded you of. You were the perfect balance, the missing diamond to even out the coal on the other end of the scale.

Loving you felt like the ocean.

In the morning when there’s a hazy screen covering your lenses, clouding the soft sunlight in a muted, white-washed filter. It’s more gray, yet still golden as the shining mass of fire lazily rises from its slumber. It’s calm, clouds stretched apart like cobwebs in the faded blue sky above, waves leisurely, almost too relaxed, crashing along the bleached shore then disappearing back into the horizon. Still sleepy, still new, an entire day ahead of you.

In the afternoon when the sun is at its highest and hottest, radiating down ultraviolet rays that burn your skin, causing alarmingly red shoulders in need of aloe that soon progressively heal and turn into a bronzed exterior. Speckles of light dancing upon excited waves, similar to a neighborhood of children dressed in pink polka dots and orange overalls running towards the ice cream truck filled to the brim with dreams of sugary stomachaches. It’s saturated, every color its brightest and loudest, pops of cerulean and coral. It’s a blanket of comfort, a suffocating scarf. It’s sweet. It’s sour. A cool glass of lemonade sinking into a bed of quicksand. Annoying and astonishing.

In the night, when the yellowing presence is long gone in the awakening of the moon, the deepest indigo swirling in between pockets of stars dotted and flecked into the atmosphere like freckles. It’s black and blue. You don’t know where the earth stopss and the water begins, familiarity lost as the waves erase each new footprint in the sand. The tide is an abuser, sweet as it sings you in, terrifying as it pulls you under. Skinny dipping, vulnerable, exciting, adrenaline, heart thumping, diving, sinking, drowning.

The morning, the afternoon, the night. The happening, the honeymoon, the heartbreak.

Ever since it ended, everything Harry had ever known was cast aside, thrown out like a Gucci jumper from last season. For the first time in his twenty-six years of living, fourteen of those juggling the obstacles that relationships can and will bring, Harry was irreversibly numb, a pair of frozen, gloveless fingertips blue from the icy wind. Not only did he linger in the gut-wrenching grief, he was absorbed by it. Instead of waking up each morning tucked into the bare side of your body diffusing innocent warmth, sipping a steaming cup of black coffee received by hands much smaller than his own, he woke up with a stranger laying on his chest, cold, with a pounding headache the bottle of whiskey had gladly supplied from the night before. The days felt as if they lasted an eternity, time stuck in slow-motion, tick, tick, ticking, one second, one and a half, one and three quarters, two. He watched the seasons pass, the grass dying and regenerating into its natural emerald shade from his bedroom, dust pocketing in the corners of a picture frame containing two pairs of sparkling eyes and genuine, toothy grins sitting on the windowsill. Nights consisted of him lying sleepless on his back, eyes wide awake, thumbs twiddling as the echoes of helicopters overhead drone in and out. Dozens of missed calls remained unanswered: Mum, Gem, Mitch, Mike, Adam, Sarah, Mum, Mum, Gem, Mum, Mike, Mitch, Gem, Mitch, Mum…

He was stuck, a pancake glued to an ungreased pan, charred. It was when this melancholy had prolonged for nearly its sixth month, and all at home remedies (which included drinking, writing, drinking because he was writing, and writing because he was drinking) failed to provide any peace that he decided to give in to the recommendations from almost every single one of his friends: therapy. After the first session, he was ready to book it and sprint off to a deserted island with nothing but a coconut filled with rum to accompany his solitude. Turns out that one session was the mento to his coca cola of bottled-up emotions, exploding months’ worth of buried feelings and memories in an hour. It took the will of God (and Gemma purposefully lying and telling him they were going to get lunch) to get Harry back in the baby-pink-painted interior of his therapist’s office. After months of talking, sorting, compartmentalizing, yelling, crying, healing, unpacking, and reflecting, Harry tackled down the closure he had been chasing. A year and an album later, when he heard your name, he no longer felt trapped, heart beating rapidly, trying desperately to break apart his ribcage, he felt unchained—a prisoner uncaged, pounds and pounds of metal unlocked from his wrists, free.

Before, your name was paired with a colorless photo album, snapshots of vibrancy draining into black and white, frozen, lifeless, still.

Now, your name resembled a film reel of the best moments, your sweater hanging in his closet, your arm thrown around his mother’s shoulder in a polaroid candid, your laugh echoing in the acoustics of his shower after you nearly slipped on the lavender bubbles coating sudsy toes, your hands massaging his scalp, twisting curls into detailed plaits, your foamy lips smushing against a stubbled cheek, leaving remnants of peppermint mocha in the winter air, your satin skirt contrasting from his purple flares in his backyard, playing thumb war and whispering confessions in the moonlight. The good memories built a brick wall to block out the bad, dimming the light of your downfall.

“Have you ever been in love?” The question echoes again in Harry’s ears, causing a grin and a dimple to pop into his cheek. The fuzzies. Once, twice, three times. Click, shake, tape.

“Yeah, I have.”

[lady-divine-writes]

Kurtbastian - “Always and Forever”

Summary: After the death of their daughter Grace, Kurt and Sebastian drift apart. Kurt wraps himself up in his grief so tightly he starts to push Sebastian away, and Sebastian, feeling himself shoved aside when he needs Kurt most, cheats. They make the decision to start over, to leave New York City and their pain behind, and start over again in a house Upstate. Sebastian buys Kurt a "fixer upper" and gives him free reign. While redecorating the room that will be his studio, Kurt comes across something interesting underneath the wallpaper. It starts to become an obsession for Kurt - an obsession that begins to replace Kurt's love for his husband, which Sebastian is holding on to by a thread. Can Kurt and Sebastian break through the pain and the hurt and find a way to fall in love again?

Notes: Inspired by the Klaine advent drabble prompt "ache". So this is a story I started a while ago, but stopped after chapter 4 because it started to get a little too real. But I’ve started revising, and now I’m ready to finish it.

Chapter 1 (3197 words)

“God! That traffic was insane, wasn’t it?” Sebastian complains, pulling off the highway and onto the less congested road that leads to the heart of Manhasset.

Kurt mutters in agreement, but he barely noticed. His right temple has been glued to the passenger side window the entire trip. Eyes pointed skyward, he watched the clouds pass by as they drove, counted the trees, followed a flock of birds as they flew off to warmer climes far, far away.

Away from here, the way Kurt wishes he could.

“I called ahead to turn the gas on. And the electricity... ” Sebastian has been rambling about nothing for the whole hour and forty-five-minute drive, filling the tense air of the Navigator with verbal static. “We’re gonna want to air the place out for a few hours. The realtor told me it stinks like mold but that there isn’t any actual mold in the house. I hired two separate contractors to go through the place anyway and make sure. I wasn't going to take the guy's word for it. He struck me as a sandwich short of a picnic. I mean, you should have seen him, Kurt! He was wearing a purple paisley tie and brown loafers with a grey suit. And not like royal purple. That would have worked. But puce! Jesus Christ!” He chuckles. It bleeds into a nervous cough. “I didn’t say anything, but it would have been nice if you were there to give him some subtle pointers. Or not so subtle. You know how much I love seeing you in action. Oh, and we'll have to go over our insurance policy. I’m having a second independent appraiser… ”

“Are we there yet?” Kurt interrupts, preferring to focus on how the changing leaves mute the skyline than on a single word coming out of his husband’s mouth. Not that he could catch a one the way they’re sprinting off his tongue like lemmings off a cliff.

The trees soothe Kurt, smooth the rough edges of this bumpy ride. They grow differently out here than in the city: springing up in rows, displaying their fall colors, blending one into the other like an ever-changing river - red tree, yellow tree, brown tree, gold tree… 

Their daughter Grace would call out the colors on their long car rides Upstate, conjuring rhymes where there were none. They roll through his memory in her singsong voice.

Green tree… uh... lean tree!

Kurt smiles, clutching on to the sound of her voice.

He's terrified of the day he'll forget what her voice sounds like.

“Just… uh… just a few more blocks,” Sebastian replies, his attempt at chitchat cut short by his husband’s impatient tone. Despite his infinitely expressive voice, Kurt only uses three tones nowadays - angry, impatient, and indifferent. Sebastian hasn’t learned how to avoid any of them, but he hates Kurt’s indifferent tone the most. “Not too far.”

“Good. Because I’m tired of sitting in this stupid seat.” Kurt switches positions, massaging his hip for emphasis. 'Tired of sitting in this stupid seat.' That's what he said. But he meant, 'tired of being stuck in here with you.' 

And Sebastian knows it.

Sebastian turns down two streets that spiral together tighter and tighter until he and Kurt are locked in to their new neighborhood.

Locked in to their decision to move here.

“Here it is.” Sebastian pulls up to the curb at the point before the street turns into a cul-de-sac.

Kurt sits up slowly to accommodate his stiff spine and numb ass. Looking around, he sighs in frustration. “Here what is? There are five houses on this block. Which one is it?”

“Guess.” When Kurt sighs again, Sebastian says, “I’ll give you a hint – it’s one of these three,” and motions to the houses on Kurt’s right. Kurt rolls his eyes but turns to the houses closest. They all appear relatively identical – three floors with a pointed roof and a square porch, reminiscent of a gingerbread house. They probably have basements – a huge selling point in this vicinity. But they don’t call them basements Upstate. They call them cellars. Somehow, the word cellar is more refined, and therefore more acceptable than having a dull, run-of-the-mill, drafty basement.

Need that cellar so you can have the most expensive cabernet on the market on hand in case we need to drunkenly judge Sally Jones’s latest highlight fiasco.

“She should have gone with lowlights, Sharon. (sip) Haven’t I been saying that, Kayla? (sip) Haven’t I been saying that she should have stuck with lowlights? But only around her face. (sip) Ha-ha-ha-ha! Please, pass the brie.”

Kurt spent a good portion of his life living in a basement bedroom, so he’s not above the word. But he remembers a time back in high school when he thought that was the person he would grow up to be. He’d start out as one of the New York elite, then become an Upstate snob. When his kids (two of them – a boy and a girl) were grown and gone, he’d start an artists’ colony. He'd retire to a lighthouse, isolate himself in obscurity while being ironically jaded at the world.

Well, he's nearing forty, and he is jaded, but for entirely different reasons.

The house at the curve in the cul-de-sac is painted a sea green Kurt isn’t thrilled with. But that can be remedied with a bucket of paint and some elbow grease. From its position, it probably gets the bulk of the noon sun. 

There goes their electric bill. 

Kurt knows Sebastian doesn’t care about trivial things like finances, but just because they have the money to spend doesn’t mean they should shovel it out the window. Plus, there's their carbon footprint to think about. But more importantly, there goes his fair skin, which will freckle at every meal while he does nothing other than sit at the kitchen table.

No, thank you.

The house beside it is in a better position, slanted away from direct sunlight. But it’s painted a slate blue that comes across as too harsh considering the neighborhood’s neutral color scheme. Sebastian should know better than to see that house and say, “Yes. That’s it. That’s the one,” unless the inside looks like the Palace of Versailles.

The last house is also blue, but this blue borders on pale grey, a similar shade to his father’s house in Lima. A maple tree has grown through the pavement in front, shading the house and shedding its red-gold leaves all over the front yard. 

And this house has a porch swing. 

He and Sebastian used to talk about owning a home with a porch swing. It became a prerequisite for the home they wanted to retire in. Kurt pictured sitting on their swing side by side in the early mornings, sipping coffee and watching the sunrise.

Sebastian, on the other hand, talked about having sex on the thing and scaring the neighbors.

Same planet, different worlds.

“It’s this one,” Kurt guesses, gesturing to the blue-grey house. “The one with the swing. Isn’t it?”

“Don’t sound too excited,” Sebastian jokes but warily, afraid of what the fallout might be if Kurt doesn’t like it. Sebastian has been climbing a tenuous ladder to make his husband happy. One misstep and he'll plummet back to the bottom, with no certainty that Kurt will let him try to climb up again. It’s his own damn fault, Sebastian reminds himself as they get out of the vehicle. He did this to them, so he’ll let Kurt lash out, let him bare his teeth and his claws, let him dig in with both hands and rip.

Sebastian deserves it.

He leads Kurt up the walkway in silence, past the tree and the swing. He unlocks the front door and pushes it open, standing back so Kurt can be the first one over the threshold. Kurt takes his time, poking his head in first, then taking a hesitant step. This is an all-or-nothing moment for him. In his heart, once he walks inside, there's no turning back.

He sets his foot down, rests his weight on it, and a dozen memories come flooding back: the house he lived in with his mom and dad, the house he and his dad moved into when his dad remarried, the dorm rooms he suffered from high school to college.

The first night he spent in Sebastian's penthouse, the excitement of feeling like he'd found his true home.

The house he dreamed of raising Grace in. 

In the end, they stayed in the penthouse for convenience. He regrets not getting her an actual house with a yard and a swing.

Like this one.

The irony.

The room lists, Kurt's head swims, but he wraps his arms around himself and doesn't let it show. He focuses on the here and now. He's taken a step. He just needs to take another. And another. Keep going. Keep moving forward, or else he'll crumple to the ground.

And Sebastian will rush to catch him.

Kurt would rather bury himself under the porch.

Kurt breathes in through his nose and out through his mouth, relies on a cold and detached demeanor to help him instead of the strong arms of his husband.

This house has a different feel from the open floor plan of the penthouse they've been living in since college. It's cramped around the corners, with a lot more shadows and a lot less noise. Sebastian likes that better. He’s an Ohio native, same as Kurt. But unlike Kurt, he considers himself a country boy. Even though Sebastian built his identity around becoming a state's attorney like his father, he loved the quiet life: wide-open spaces, blue skies, unhurried, and just plain normal. 

Kurt saw Ohio as a cage he couldn't wait to break free from.

Sebastian could have bought Kurt any house he wanted. In that vein, Sebastian feels like a heel for jumping on this one without consulting Kurt first. He reasoned that he'd been the one house hunting, not Kurt. So when a contact told him that the owner of this house, a house Sebastian had had his eye on for a while, was finally selling, it seemed too perfect, especially considering the timing.

Sebastian bent over backward to rescue it from escrow.

Kurt didn't want to leave the city, but it was full of too much pain for him to handle, too many memories, friends and acquaintances who had yet to hear the news, and those who constantly offered their condolences. Few people greeted him anymore without their smiles dropping and the words, “I’m so sorry,” coming out of their mouths, as if joy shouldn't exist around him anymore. 

It made his head, his heart, and his soul ache.

Kurt loved New York City, but there was nothing left for him there but the constant hollow thud he felt whenever he saw something that reminded him of their angel Grace. School would be starting soon. All of her friends will be moving on to the fifth grade. But his daughter...

Life ended for her too soon.

“Here.” Sebastian reaches for Kurt’s hand, but Kurt reflexively pulls it away, slipping his hands into his pockets to cover for his flinching from Sebastian’s touch. Sebastian should be used to it by now, but he isn’t. “Let me show you why I think you’re going to love this house.”

Sebastian jogs up the stairs to the next level. Kurt follows a few steps behind. When he reaches the top, he sees three doors. They pass the first two without mention. Sebastian opens the last.

“Here.” Sebastian crosses to the opposite side and throws open one of two windows, filling the musty space with the crisp bite of autumn. “I thought this room could be your new studio.”

Sebastian knows him too well. The room is perfect. Even at dusk, it’s flooded with natural light. It looks out over the rooftops of the other houses, giving him a view of the surrounding forests and orchards stretching way past the highway. With a little TLC, it could look just like his studio in their penthouse.

Or he can turn it into something new.

Start with a clean slate.

“What are the other two rooms?” Kurt asks offhandedly. He doesn't need to. 

He knows what the other rooms are. 

There are only two rooms they can be.

“A bathroom and the master bedroom,” Sebastian answers, watching his husband stroll across the floor.

“So this would have been… ?”

“A spare? A guest room?” Sebastian shifts his weight from foot to foot, unable to find an easy groove to stand in.

Kurt frowns. No. It would have been Grace’s bedroom if she were still with them. Kurt was trying to get his husband to acknowledge that. Cruelly. But if she were with them, Sebastian wouldn’t have cheated, their marriage wouldn’t be falling apart, and they wouldn’t be running away from their problems.

“I guess I could put a foldout bed in here,” Kurt throws out as he estimates the space.

“You can if that’s what you want,” Sebastian agrees. “Or you’re just saying that to hurt me, which, if you are, you’ll be happy to know, it’s working.”

“I’m not saying that to hurt you,” Kurt eloquently lies. “I’m being practical. I’m not going to have easy access to the Vogue workshop if I live two hours away. If I expect to get a new line started, I’m going to have to pull long hours.”

Sebastian scrutinizes his husband, who’s doing his best to avoid looking at him. “You’re… thinking of starting a new line? You didn’t mention that.”

Kurt shrugs. “Did I have to?”

“No. I mean, I wasn’t sure that you would go back to designing so soon after.” 

"After?" Kurt tilts his head inquisitively but still makes no eye contact.

"After... moving. There's going to be a lot to do here. I thought you'd give yourself a year. Maybe more." Sebastian answers so quickly, Kurt wonders if he'd practiced. They talk in code, this whole conversation a carefully choreographed tango through a labyrinth of knives.

Sebastian didn't mean after moving. He meant after the death of their daughter. Kurt practically spent every spare second he wasn’t designing for work designing with her. Kurt has been a designer since high school. Aside from music, it's his passion.

Sebastian feared Grace's death might sever those harp strings.

"I think you underestimate me. Besides, you’re considering going back to working in the city after… ” 

Pivot, walk walk, close.

The dance changes. They switch places, and Kurt leads.

Kurt isn't talking about them moving or Grace.

Kurt means after Sebastian cheated. 

Kurt only agreed to move out of the city and live in a house he's never seen to keep Sebastian away from the man he's convinced will become too big a temptation to resist the next time they get into any kind of argument. Granted, it took their daughter dying for Sebastian to cheat, but Kurt figures it’ll keep getting easier from now on to come up with an excuse. 

Can't agree on where to go for dinner? Have a huge blowout over which cards to send out for Christmas? That's it! I'm sticking my dick in someone else!

“Anyway, I wouldn’t want to wake you by crawling into bed at four in the morning, not when you have to be at work at six,” Kurt finishes when he’s let that dig soak in long enough.

“I’m not going back to work for a while, remember? That’s what a leave of absence is. And even if I was, why would I mind you waking me?” Sebastian risks a grin. “In fact, I was thinking that it might be nice to get back to what we used to do in the mornings before work. I miss that.”

Sebastian holds his breath while he sees how that remark lands. He waits for Kurt to look at him. Kurt hasn’t been able to look at him, really look at him, since hungover Sebastian came home in a taxi the morning after, clothes ruined, their marriage officially in the gutter. Grace passed away six months ago, which means he’s been waiting for a while. 

He’s still waiting. 

“This isn’t all about you,” Kurt reminds him, raising his eyes to the ceiling.

Kurt didn't yell. But that doesn't mean he's not furious.

“I know,” Sebastian says softly. He rubs his cold hands together, wishing he could stick them underneath his husband’s thick, button-down sweater, and press his palms against Kurt’s skin. A year ago, Kurt would have squealed, “Bas! Your hands are freezing!” But he would have wrapped his arms around himself and held on, would have let Sebastian lean in for a kiss, would have fallen for the line, “Now that my hands are warm, maybe you can help me warm up a few other things.”

Then they would have made love on the wood floor with the door open.

If only he could make Kurt laugh the way he used to.

Then maybe Kurt would love him again.

But going by his husband’s expression, dreary as the olive sweater he holds closed with one hand at the neck, Sebastian knows that now is not the time.

“Is this what you need to make you happy?” he asks. If only it were that simple. If only a house, or a car, or a vacation could turn back the clock and erase everything that happened.

Erase everything Sebastian did, and bring their daughter back.

Kurt doesn't answer right away. He's not purposefully keeping Sebastian in suspense. He couldn't care less what's going on in Sebastian's head. This is his future he's considering. 

He's going to take his time.

He circles the room, contemplating the echo of his footsteps on the roughly finished wood, debating whether or not it's a sound he wants to hear for the rest of his life. If not, is it worth putting in the time to fix it? 

He traces the path of sunlight as it travels across the wall. That brings a new detail to his eye - a torn corner of wallpaper above the open window revealing a word underneath.

Darling.

Kurt eyes it from a distance, tries not to pay too much attention to it in case Sebastian is behind it. It doesn’t look like it was written recently. It's more than likely part of the pattern underneath. But leave it to Sebastian to try to woo his husband back with something syrupy like that. 

Something hopelessly romantic.

Something he thinks Kurt will fall for.

“No,” Kurt answers honestly, re-examining the fading wallpaper, the scuffed floors, the peeling ceiling. His gaze glances his husband’s face and settles on the dust-streaked window. He stares out at the sky, the clouds, the trees, the birds flying wild and free. He’s never going to be able to fly away like that, so he might as well accept this cage he's been given. It's what he's supposed to do, after all. “But it’s worth a try.”

He has little else left to lose.