#the loudest silence is solitude

[hanasnx]

Clark def has an exhibitionism kink. that big ass opening in his barn? I know what you are

MINORS DNI 18+

NOTES: DC is for December Event! — request DC characters.

There wasn’t any time to close the bay window, it was truly the last thing on you and CLARK KENT’s mind. You’d come here with the intent for a friendly visit, and now you’re blanketed by his large body on this dusty couch. His hand clutches the back of this sofa, white-knuckling it while he’s hovering over you to swallow your moans with his mouth on yours. It muffles you, but it’s far from silent—yet his hips won’t let up.

The symphony of sex drifts from the open second story of his barn, his personal fortress of solitude stained by how exposed you two are. If only someone would look up standing in fields of the Kent family farm, they’d see a head of raven black hair getting ran through by nimble and eager fingers. If they’d lend an ear, they’d hear him try to hush you.

“Shh, baby, we gotta try to be quiet,” Clark soothes, murmuring the coo against your lips as a handsome smile stretches his lips. All this and the loudest thing in the room is still the smacking of skin on skin.

You clutch onto his head, huge in your arms as you draw him impossibly closer to your chest. “I can’t, Clark, I can’t!” you whisper, and the end of your sentence dissolves into a keen that earns another kiss out of him. Tongues melding together, he tries to silence your pretty noises gracefully.

[with-my-calamitous-love]

YOU’LL SEE ME IN HINDSIGHT

touya todoroki x reader

you spend one last night with your husband before he goes to battle shouto and endeavour.

angst/smut, mha official ending spoilers

part 1/3

inspired by wildest dreams

2 years of hiding. 2 years of silence. 2 years of putting the outside world on pause. 2 years of bliss.

to fall of the face of the earth with your beloved was possibly the most romantic thing you could have ever experienced. you existed in your own snow globe, dancing in circles round and round shielded from the outside world. but you both knew it wouldn’t be forever.

you had a quiet house on the countryside, surrounded by gorgeous acres of land. for you and touya, it seemed much to large for both of you. but acres of nature’s serene solitude provided the two of you enough time to escape from the world. you, at least, wanted to escape. for touya, it was more like purgatory. this is where he spent his time before death.

the backyard was perhaps your favourite part. you sat on the old wooden steps on the porch, eyeing the lush vegetation that seemed to thrive despite the ever-increasing fleetingness of the moment. soon, no one would pick the peaches from the trees, or harvest the sweet strawberries from the bushes. no one would admire the flowers that grew for miles or the sweet smell of life. no one would ever see the beauty of the land that touya todoroki loved you on.

you hear his creaky footsteps come up behind you, watching you as you watch the world- like you are his world. for a moment, he sees nothing.

“the magnolias.” words finally escape your lips.

“hm? whats that doll?” he asks.

you take a deep breath, prying your eyes away from the garden and finally turning to face your lover. your hand raises to point at the delicate white petals bundled together like a stanza.

“those ones over there. magnolias. they smell the sweetest.”

his blue eyes follow over to where you point as he sits down next to you. he simply nods, looking at the flowers you told him smelled the best.

a thought crosses your mind. you overheard him talking it over with shigaraki. you knew what tomorrow was. yet you were hesitant to let the words leave your mouth. you didn’t even want to dare it.

“…you know you’re going to die, right?”

the words leave your tongue like a curse.

at first, he looks over at you, bewildered by the statement. but touya isn’t dumb- he knows you can pick up on things. and he knows he isn’t dumb enough to wanna lie to you- though admittedly the lie is better. the lie is so much more comforting in this instance.

“…i know, doll.” touya tells the truth.

you don’t say anything, but your silence is perhaps the loudest thing he’s heard all day.

“its too late to give up on it now.” he says it like he’s trying to salvage it. as if theres any way to fix all the pain he hasn’t even caused you yet. he knows your grief is only inevitable.

“…thought so.” you sigh, getting up from the creaky wooden steps and moving back into your home. its a home that you and touya have built together. dirty rugs with tracks stained from his large black boots. your coat and his hanging from the door, his so much darker and larger than yours. the dirty bowls in the sink you have yet to wash, leftover from soba night. the memories, the dreams, the love. the world was about to see dabi, but for two years you got to love touya.

so many memories were suddenly engulfed in fire. dancing barefoot in the kitchen, trying on his coat that reached the floor on your frame, hugging him and feeling the warmth only he could give you. all of it was soon to be ash.

he follows you into the house, watching as you move about. he’s silent, since words always seemed to fail him when it came to you. theres a heavy tension that lingered in the house. soon, this wouldn’t be yours and touya’s home. soon, these walls would be haunted. soon, this would no longer be a home.

“you know theres no way you’re getting out of this alive, right?” you ask as if to confirm your worst fears. funny, since you already knew the answer.

“…as long as i take that old bastard down with me.” touya says, a familiar flicker of revenge ruminating in his brilliant turquoise eyes. perhaps love wasn’t meant to end suffering, after all.

and thats enough to make your voice resonate with that familiar crack of anguish.

“…what about me, touya..?”

he winces. he expected you to yell, to scream at him. to tell him how much of an asshole he is. how much you hate him. somehow, your strangled, quiet cry hurts more.

“you… you’ll be fine. you manage.” he’s lying through his teeth and you both know it.

what else could you say?

you turned away from him, walking upstairs to your bedroom. this was the room you loved the most. so many late nights and sunny, early mornings. god, getting to see him all tuckered out from the previous night, the deepest morning voice you have ever heard. his cheeky remarks, half lidded blue eyes looking into you. the way he pulls you back into bed, asking where the hell you think you’re going. all of that love was packing its bags and moving on.

he follows you again, not knowing what else to say but not wanting the conversation to end either. maybe he just didn’t want you and him to end, despite the fact that neither of you had a choice.

“i was never apart of your plan, was i?” your voice cracks again, asking him to confirm your deepest hurt. you knew it to be true. loving you was never something touya ever intended on doing. yet he stayed.

he only sighs, trying to find the right words. “i’m sorry. i never meant to drag you into this-“

“don’t be.” you quickly cut him off once you realize he’s not denying anything.

touya was a man of promises. he knows that he’s made a vow. a vow to bring endeavour down, to expose him for all the suffering he’s condemned him to. to show his father that he was the worst thing to ever happen to the flame hero. he branded that promise deep into his heart, and he had 0 intentions of letting it up now.

not even for you.

the sound of cooing causes both of you to stare out the window. there, perched on the window sill, are two doves- happily chirping to one another, unbeknownst of the pain just lurking behind the glass.

“you know, doves mate for life.” you say, looking at the smaller one nestling into the snow white feathers of its much larger companion.

“kind of romantic, isn’t it?” touya shrugs, also noting the way the two birds hold onto each other like nothing else matters. even with the ability to fly, to sore the sky and see the stars up close, the two birds loved each other like none of that was even remotely interesting.

“it is romantic.” you agree. “loving each other for the rest of their lives. even if that life is short.”

he quickly catches on.

touya swore he’d love you for the rest of his life. even if that life was too short for him.

touya watches the birds alongside you, their delicate, graceful forms seeming to symbolize something more than just a couple of birds resting on a window sill. they continue to coo quietly to each other, cuddling and nuzzling against each other, completely at ease and content with the love they’d found.

after a moment of silence, touya speaks up, his voice quiet and hesitant.

"you know i don’t want to leave you, right?”

wanting seemed irrelevant, here. it didn’t matter what you or touya wanted. fate was decided, against what either of you want.

“i know.” you say, solemnly. you rest your hands on touya’s side of the dresser, like a wounded soldier hanging his head low. your heart was hurting. by this time tomorrow, he’d be gone. the love of your life would be gone.

for a second, touya is lost in his own world of hate. he hates himself, more than he’s hated anyone in his entire life. he hates himself for letting you love him. he hates himself for having to leave you here, all alone, safe and stranded.

he’s then pulled out of his trance when he sees you in his drawer, holding the ring he’s kept hidden from you for months. a beautiful, silver ring with a sapphire as deep as the blue sea. alongside is his ring, just a simple, silver band. he mentally curses himself for not hiding it well enough.

his heart beats out of his chest, watching you slowly turn to him, holding the ring.

“you remembered i like sapphires.” you say, not a question but a statement. of course he remembered your favourite gemstone. touya remembered every little thing he loves about you.

“yeah… course i did, doll.” he says, as if its obvious he remembered.

he wishes he could actually cry when he sees you slip it onto your left ring finger. god, it fits you perfectly. his eyes remain mesmerized as you flex your fingers, seeing how it looks on you.

you legs carry you over to him, pulling him in close. you rest your hands on his chest and your forehead against his. touya’s scarred hands find their way to your waist, drawing you in as if to shield you from all the heartache thats to come.

“you know we can’t actually get married, right?” you dryly chuckle, your voice barely a whisper. “especially not legally.”

he hums in response. he’s well aware you two could never go down to a courthouse and officially commit to one another. “you think i care ‘bout that?” he manages a smirk. “i still wanna marry you. even if its just between us.”

“so, you’re really gonna turn me into a widow tomorrow hm?” you ask.

his blue eyes flicker down to your ring, his brain still unable to compute that its real. “i guess so.”

you smile, though theres an undeniable hint of sadness in your eyes that touya knows all too well.

“i know you don’t wanna leave me, touya.” you whisper, looking into his eyes, staring into his soul.

he physically feels his heart clench at your words. and at the look in your eyes, he feels a wave of emotion wash over him. he wants to reach out and take you into his arms, to hold you tight and never let go. but he can’t. he has to stay strong, no matter how weak you make his resolve.

“i.. i know i don’t want to leave you, i don’t want to leave you behind. but i have to. i have to do this. i have to take him down.” he says, gritting his teeth at the thought of that bastard.

“i hope you do.” you encourage. “fuck that guy.”

touya almost laughs at this, pressing his forehead against yours. “yeah. fuck that guy.”

“i… i hate him. i hate him for doing this to you. for turning you into this. for taking you away from me. from what we could have had.” you can’t help the tear that falls from your eye just thinking about it, thinking about what you lost. the husband you could have had, the kids, the future… all of that could only live on in your dreams, now.

touya’s eyes widen in surprise and pain at your words. he honestly hadn't thought about it like that before, hadn't considered how endeavour’s actions had impacted you, too. he knew that his hatred and need for revenge had caused a rift between the two of you, but hearing you say it out loud, seeing the pain in your eyes, it cuts straight to his heart.

he looks at you, his expression torn between anger and guilt.

"i’m sorry. i’m sorry I've put you through all this, doll. i’m sorry i let my anger and hate consume me. its all i know.” he says, closing his eyes. he can’t bare to watch you cry over something as pathetic as him.

“i… i think you’re a murderer. and a villain. touya.” you seethe. and he accepts that hatred from you, because he doesn’t deserve anything more or less.

“and i also think you’re a deeply traumatized person who was stuck as a kid who feels like nothing but a failure after, being in a 3 year coma.” you conclude your true feelings. he doesn’t say anything to that for a moment.

he knew that you saw him for what he was- a killer, a villain, a monster. but hearing you say it out loud, hearing you sum up his entire life, stung.

he tightens his grip on your hips, his fingers digging into your flesh slightly as he struggles to keep his emotions in check. he keeps his eyes averted, unable to meet your gaze.

“i know what i am. what I’ve become. i don’t know what else to do.” he says, defeated, like the end of a long battle.

“can you love me? is that an option?” your question is more of a plea than anything else. finally, he looks you in the eye, as if the answer to that question is obvious.

“you’re the only thing i think i’m capable of loving.” he admits, more to himself than to you.

“you’re the only thing thats made my life worth living. and im so fucking grateful. for you. and your love.” the way he says it like a goodbye hurts all too much. but its words you need to hear. making him feel love was an absolute honour.

you pull him close to you, wrapping your arms around his neck desperately. oh, to memorize the feeling of his body against yours as his strong arms circle your waist, pulling you up to match his taller frame.

“you’re the best i’ve ever loved.” you say.

“you’re the only thing i’ve ever loved.” he confirms.

“then spend one last night with me. as your wife. whatever you do in the morning is up to you, i don’t care, but just give this night to us.” he can’t deny the way you beg him- even though you don’t even have to ask. he was already planning on it, visualizing all the ways he was going to physically show you he loves you in the bed tonight. but he needs to make sure, first.

“are you sure you want that, doll? one last night?”

“what i want is forever, touya.” you clarify. “but if i can have just one last night, i think we can make it work.”

and once he’s gotten your consent, the rest of the night is set.

✧.* ⋆.˚ ☾ .⭒˚ ✧.* ✧.* ⋆.˚ ☾ .⭒˚ ✧.* ✧.* ⋆.˚ ☾ .⭒˚ ✧.* ✧.* ⋆.˚

most think that guys can only fuck or make love- but touya gave you both and everything in between that night.

the way his hands roamed over every inch of your body like he was trying to etch himself onto you. god, the way his cock slid in and out of you at an unreasonably fast pace. he can’t help that he wants you, that he wants to be the only guy to ever throw you onto the mattress and fuck you till your absolutely spent all over him.

“fuck. yeah? ya like that doll?” he groans into your ear, the filthy sounds of skin slapping together filling the room. “gonna fuck you so good. god, your pussy is so fucking good.”

he has you on your back, turquoise eyes drinking in the way your eyes roll to the back of your skull. to say it looked absolutely filthy was an understatement, but to you two and just you two, this was how you showed love. touya was never a man of words- sure, he could tell you that he loves you, that he wants you, and that he doesn’t want to leave you, but you both already know that. so he lets his actions speak for him: spreading your legs to opposite sides of the room, playing with your pussy until your absolutely gushing, and not even daring to stop even when you can barely form a coherent sentence. he loves how he gets you like this. because he fucks you until your sobbing- partly from the mind melting pleasure, and partly from the fact that you know you’ll never find a cock this good ever again.

and touya’s not usually a huge biter or a kissed, but god, does he go crazy over the way you scream when he sinks his teeth in. and he won’t stop at a few nicks- you’re funny. the way he loved you is agonizing. loving you manifests as an all-consuming entity. he’s driven wild by the pleasure, and he wishes he could just have you whole right now.

if theres one thing you learned from loving touya, its that the idea of love being just a feeling, a simple chemical in the brain, was simply incorrect. no. love is not a feeling. love cannot be summed up into a simple 7 letter word. love took over your senses, the sight, the ears, the touch, the smell and especially the taste. you honestly wished touya would just consume you. and not just for lust or for petty desires. you wished to become a part of him. he wanted to taste your flesh against his lips like it was god damn salvation. let his being be apart of yours as his lips bless your skin, begging for another bite. let him feel something that is so wrong yet so right. let him want something that feels too good to be true. because its him. god, the way he loves you as if he’s savouring the rhythm of your heart- only he makes it beat that way. he watches, absolutely mesmerized as your fluids drip down your thighs, watching how he makes you melt. in the end, the two of you are reduced to nothing but empty space. because you were touya’s favourite part of himself.

you scream his name until his throat runs dry, as he continuously chases the feeling of your velvet walls clenching around his cock. god, the way he feels when your nipples slide over his pecs. how you scratch down hid back, how he actively has to keep his quirk in check as not to burn you- not that you’d mind a brand in the shape of his hand. he’s already left his fingerprints all over you, anyway.

“p-please! ah! don’t stop!” you moan for probably the 100th time. not that touya’s complaining, he loves your desperate side. he loves that he’s the one who can coax it out of you.

you’ve lost track of how many times you’ve come. from his fingers, to his mouth, to his cock that felt like it was shaped especially for you. your thighs tremble around his waist desperately, begging him to pull yet another orgasm out of you. and touya happily obliges. he loves to fuck you till all you can think of is him.

he can feel himself unraveling, wanting nothing more than to see his cum dripping down your beautiful pussy. he knows that this is the last chance he’ll have to take you like this. and when you arch your back and scream ‘TOUYA!’ at the top of your lungs, he loses it.

the groan he lets out in your ear as he finally releases himself into you is mouthwatering. warm, thick, ropes of his seed stuffing you to the absolute brim. you feel your toes curl and your mind blank, only being able to focus on the sensation of his love melting away every single worry or doubt in your mind. the way the sweat from his and your body forces you two to stick together as he holds you against him, helping you come down from the intense high.

his body collapses down beside you, mustering all his leftover energy to pull you closer to him. he pulls the blanket over you and him, like cementing his rightful place next to you, holding you in his arms.

“could lay here with you forever.” he utters, somewhat hoping you won’t catch what he says.

“i wish you would.” of course you catch on.

he pulls back slightly to look you in the eye. having you here, hair sprawled out, in his arms. you’re covered in the evidence of him like your a crime scene- his favourite crime at that.

his heart clenches at the thought of tomorrow. that at this time in 24 hours, he won’t be with you anymore. and that made him want to scream.

your hands move up to cradle his chin, brushing your thumb over his lower lip. your voice is rasped from your recent activities as you ask your question: “can i ask you something?”

“anything, doll.” he says confidently.

you inhale deeply. “can… can you feel me here?”

you motion to his burnt lower lip, and then to his patches of purple, burnt skin, barely holding itself together. its a question you’ve wondered for years, yet have always feared the answer.

his silence is nerve wracking, before finally answering.

“yeah. i can.”

even then, you’re not convinced.

“even when i kiss you?” your voice is barely above a whisper.

he leans in closer, as if its important to him that you hear this.

“you’re the only person that makes me feel things, doll. yes, i can feel you.”

he inhales again, knowing that he needs to ask you this sooner or later.

“promise me something, babygirl.”

“anything.” you nod.

“promise me… promise me that when i walk out that door tomorrow. promise me you’ll find some other guy. someone that makes you happy and protects you. that..”

that loves you like he does. but touya knows that no one will ever love you like he does.

to say your heart shattered at that was an understatement. how could you ever even think of finding another man, when your heart irrevocably belonged to touya todoroki?

“…is that what you want?” you asked, still shocked.

the question hits him like a punch to the gut. no, he absolutely, unequivocally does not want that. the thought of someone else with you, loving you, holding you, being with you… it makes him sick to his stomach. no, he can’t even bare the thought of someone being tangled with you like this. dreaming of you like he does. loving you with a love so bright it burns- it made him sick.

and when he thinks of that. of you moving on without him.. selfishly, so fucking selfishly, it makes him want to burn the world down. because if it’s nothing but ash, no one will get to have you, even he’s gone. maybe to love him meant burning it all down, anyway.

and for a moment, he's tempted, so very tempted, to say no, to tell you that he wants you to never move on, to tell you to love him and only him, selfish as it may be. but he can't. not when he knows he never even deserved you in the first place.

"…yes."

and you have the audacity to scoff.

he looks on confused, and a little offended. what was so audacious in this moment it had you laughing?

“touya.” you call his attention. his blue eyes never even left your sight as he nods.

“do you honestly think love just ends when you leave?”

it stumps him, for a moment. like his heart stuttering at the thought. he tries to figure out where you’re going with this as he answers.

“no. i don’t.” he affirms.

“exactly.” you say. “it doesn’t. in fact, i don’t think i’ve loved you any more than i do right now. love is felt the strongest when its leaving.”

your words do more to him than he’d like to admit. he gulps.

“so even right now, you love me?”

the answer to that should have been obvious.

“i’m never not loving you.”

he manages a dry chuckle, pressing his forehead to yours. god, he wishes he could have this forever. but he knows a demon like him can’t enter heaven.

so for now, he embraces you fully, rubbing circles onto your back and hushing you to sleep. the cool air blows through the room, so he shields you with his body, wanting you to feel nothing but the warmth and the comfort you deserve. he may not be the guy you deserve, but he sure as hell can protect you like he his.

and for what might be the last time, he savours the way your lips bless his in a kiss. your the only name on his lips, the only one that could ever feel what its like to love him.

he feels his heartbreak as you fall asleep. he hopes you dream of him. dreams are so much happier.

“…i’m never gonna stop loving you.” he whispers.

and with that, touya falls asleep.

[lenny-link]

i LIVE for your sniperscout art they're so silly it feeds me so well :'') mind sharing headcanons or just random thoughts you have abt them?

sorry anon for taking a whole year to reply to this i took all the time to ‘study’ them and write what i like about them or basically how i hc this ship :,> (also trying to come up with new hc that i haven’t read before)

My Sniperscout headcanons/thoughts:

- Sniper, the stoic assassin with a heart as cold as ice, had never expected to have his life turned upside down by a ball of energy and bad puns named Scout. He was the first one to develop feelings. His job consisted of a lot of staring, and well his sniper rifle wasn’t the only thing with a long scope, Sniper’s gaze would linger on Scout, tracing the messy dirty blonde hair, his athletic form and the way his lips moved like a silent film, noticing details about him more than a simple teammate would.

- The loudmouth, messy-haired kid was everything Sniper wasn't: impulsive, loud, and always looking for trouble. Yet, somehow, Scout would find his way into Sniper's quiet life, his laughter chasing away the monotony of Sniper's days, filling the silence with his made up stories and infectious enthusiasm.

- Sniper refuses to admit his growing fondness for the ball of energy that had invaded his quiet world. Scout’s jokes might have been bad but they chased away the deafening solitude of Sniper’s days.

- Scout, on the other hand, being the you youngest and loudest, craved attention he barely found from his brothers let alone the 8 mercs he worked with. But with Sniper, he wasn’t ignored he was listened to, Sniper listened really listened. He would even laugh at his lame jokes! In Sniper’s silence, Scout didn’t have to fight for space or attention. He was simply allowed to be himself, bad jokes and all and Sniper would just smile. Slowly a different kind of warmth would blossom into Scout chest, a warmth beyond friendship.

- Sniper actually enjoyed learning about American culture from Scout. He would develop a surprising fondness for baseball and apple pie, though he’d never admit it.

- Regardless of the fact that they have only a three year age gap (yes my hc is that Scout is 26 and Sniper is 29) they felt like creatures from different planets!: Sniper, the farm boy raised on outdated ways, and Scout, the city kid with a modern swagger (lol) yet this difference somehow only strengthened their bond.

- A bond that was fueled by shared laughter, puns, Aussie slangs, and a mutual dislike for Spy. They loved to elaborate pranks on him and call it a date, much to the Frenchman's chagrin lol.

- Despite his "Professional with Standards" persona, Sniper would feel like a lost puppy when Scout wasn’t around during their off hours, subconsciously fidgeting and always looking for him. Yet refuses to call himself soft.

- Sniper, a man of action, would expressed his affection through whatever small gifts he can give, he would bring funny-shaped rocks, odd plants or flowers he found in the woods to Scout as a souvenir of his lil adventures in the woods, and Scout would usually mock his weird finds playfully yet would collect them all on the shelf of his dorm.

- Scout, meanwhile, being the hopeless romantic is, had his own unique way of flirting, his goofy sweetness and awkward affections (0 rizz, but weirdly endearing) melting even the frostiest corners of Sniper’s heart.

- He'd always make up excuses to be alone with Sniper, "accidentally" forgetting his backpack in the van just for an extra ride back. (i was actually working on a comic about this as a continuation of Scout forgetting his necklace at Sniper’s van). He'd linger in doorways, his hands brushing against Sniper's in a clumsy attempt for physical contact.

- The first time their skin met in a hug, Sniper, being a touch starved man, melted like a hot candle. He became addicted to the warmth.

- He never initiates contact himself since it never was his style, but eagerly cling when Scout did. He'd hold on like a koala bear, clinging to the warmth like a lifeline lol.

- Scout, on the other hand, thrived on physical connection. From fist bumps on the battlefield to playful slaps on the bum (earning a hilarious reaction from Sniper every time), he craved it all

- Although Sniper hated PDA, a weakness exposed by Scout's touch. Scout, initially confused by the battlefield indifference followed by clingy cuddles in their private moments, eventually understood and learned to cherish this weird rhythm of intimacy.

- Sniper had a secret passion for knitting, he often knits sweaters, hats and socks for Scout, another way to gift Scout and to silently demonstrate his love. (i think this one is basically canon lol)

- Sniper’s van had become their mobile love nest, cuddling under the moonlight, sharing stories and dreams until they fall asleep.

- Whenever Scout's boasting gets out of hand, Sniper would silence him with a quick, playful kiss. Scout, flustered but secretly delighted, pretends to be annoyed but can't hide the blush creeping up his neck.

- Sniper who loves to show his gruff stoic exterior, gets all flustered and shy when Scout gives him genuine compliments. He’d mumbles something under his breath and hides behind his hat not used to being complimented, revealing a new weakness for Scout to exploit.

- Scout, despite his outward bravado, secretly worries about Sniper when he's on dangerous missions. He would hide it by throwing playful punches and jokes, but his eyes betray his concern.

- They fit together like puzzle pieces. Sniper, the touch-starved soul, finds solace in Scout's constant physical affection, his warmth a contrast to the coldness of his sniper's lonely lifestyle. And Scout, the braggart with a hidden insecurities, finds comfort in Sniper's quiet protectiveness.

hope that wasn’t too boring to read :>

[aventurineswife]

The weight of the sky seemed endless as the two of you sat in silence, the gentle hum of the Astral Express vibrating beneath your feet. Sunday’s gaze was cast toward the swirling cosmos outside the window, his eyes softened by the vastness before him. His wings fluttered ever so slightly, a subtle sign of something unspoken, something held close within his heart. His halo hovered faintly above him, the eyes etched within it flickering in time with the distant stars.

Beside him, you, a fallen angel, watched as the space between the two of you expanded and contracted, as if the universe itself was breathing in sync with your hesitant connection. Once, you had both been celestial beings, bathed in light and purpose. But now, the wings that had once been a symbol of grace hung heavier, tarnished by the fall, by the choices that had been made. Your shared past was no longer a dream of peace, but an echo of something more complicated—something fractured.

It was the stillness between you that felt the loudest. Sunday’s usual calm demeanor, always so composed, now seemed like a fragile facade, as if his very presence was too delicate to bear the weight of both his idealism and his doubts. And you—your once-vibrant wings were now a muted reflection of their former glory, the loss of innocence still fresh on your soul. You had fallen, yes, but in your heart, you both knew it wasn’t just the fall that kept you grounded. It was the constant struggle to rise again, together or apart.

You had loved him once, and perhaps still did, despite the years of separation, despite the wounds that had never fully healed. His soft gaze met yours briefly, and for a moment, the distance between the two of you seemed to vanish. But only for a moment. The coldness of his self-imposed solitude crept back in, shrouding him in the same protective shell that had kept him isolated for so long.

He, the protector of dreams, the idealist who wished to escape suffering, now seemed caught between worlds—the one that was real and the one he so desperately wanted to create. You understood that pain; it resonated within you, reverberating through every fiber of your being. The loss of your wings had not been a simple fall; it had been a choice, a fracture of ideals, a departure from a reality too painful to face.

Yet in that fleeting look, you saw him—the Sunday you had known before everything had fallen apart. The one who still clung to hope, however fragile, despite the weight of his guilt. The one who believed in redemption, in healing, even when the path forward was cloaked in shadows. He was still searching, still yearning for something better, but it was unclear whether he was doing it for the world or for himself.

Your wings, though broken, still yearned to reach him. To soothe the turmoil that clouded his thoughts, to whisper the truth that you both were more than the sum of your pasts. You had fallen, yes, but you had also risen, over and over. And so had he, in his own way, struggling with his own fall.

But it was the fall that had changed you both. The quiet way you drifted into each other's orbit, two souls bound by the same celestial ache, yet bound by the knowledge that redemption wasn’t a place—it was a journey. Together, but apart, your connection remained fragile, and yet undeniable, like the stars that burned dimly yet persistently in the void.

As the train drifted further into the unknown, you sat beside him, not speaking, but knowing. Knowing that no matter how far the distance stretched between your hearts, there would always be something that tethered you both together—a shared past, a shared longing, a shared, quiet hope.

Originally was requested by someone on Wattpad but I wanted to post here too because I can and I will 🧍‍♀️🫶

[ode2rin]

home is where you are

pairing. itoshi sae x gn!reader

genre. fluff | a bit of comfort (?) | established relationship | soft!sae (._.) 

content/warnings. 1.4k+ wc | characters are aged up ! | maybe slightly ooc | mentions of sae’s vague past | heavy in narration! | minimal proofread

in which: in the absence of your presence, one silent night compelled itoshi sae to confront his old acquaintance: loneliness.

sae itoshi is no stranger to loneliness. 

years of living alone in spain at such a young age have shaped him into someone gravely familiar with being alone. 

within the confines of his once-called home, sae often found solace in the echoes of his own footsteps. the rooms remained hushed, interrupted only by the distant sounds of the bustling city outside his window. he would spend countless evenings sitting by himself, silently munching on his first meal of the day.

and in those silent hours, sae's thoughts of the past became the loudest.

sae's solitude in spain back then was a self-imposed choice, driven by his unwavering dedication to his craft. loneliness became an inevitable companion, an unintended consequence of his pursuit of greatness. 

after all, to be the greatest demanded sacrifices, and sae willingly paid the price.

he was consumed by an unrelenting passion for soccer, a hunger to prove himself on the grandest stage. but as he poured his heart into training, he unwittingly built walls around himself, protecting his fragile ambitions but also isolating himself from anyone who might see a glimpse of his struggles to chase a dream that he’s yet to learn that wasn’t made for him.

and sae knew he stopped being a kid the moment he stepped foot on that plane to spain. 

what he doesn’t know, however, is that his choices will translate to living with gaps as an adult of what was once lost in the name of chasing a goal.

but he’s been alone for more than half of his living years, so there should be no surprise in how sae got used to this. being alone inside a hotel room in an unfamiliar country, miles away from home — it's a lifestyle he has grown accustomed to. it was all he had ever known since then.

until you came along and filled every gap within him that shared familiarity with loneliness of a love so kind.

now, the familiarity of you and him is the only peace he's ever known.

suddenly, there's nowhere he'd rather be than basking in the depths of your gentle eyes as he lays beside you. trailing his fingers around your cheekbones as you sleep soundly, planting tender kisses on your shoulders while both of you lazily lounge in the living room, making you  your favorite drink as you share the details of your day — it’s a lifestyle he has grown to treasure. it’s all that he’ll ever want to spend his days with. 

and if he could, he’ll be chasing flights just to be with you. 

but he can’t, and that reality stings.

“sae?”

the sound of your voice breaks through the silence of his reminiscence, pulling sae's attention back to the present.

“sae, are you still there?”

“yeah, i’m still here,” he responds, eyes focused on the screen that connects you to him. 

he's supposed to be used to this kind of lifestyle, yet now he finds himself staring at your face on this stupid screen, wondering what he’d give just to be by your side right now.

“is there something wrong?”

you're everywhere but beside him, that's what's wrong. 

and it doesn’t help that being away from you resurrects the same feelings he experienced during his teenage years.

but in true sae itoshi’s nature, he’ll settle with just a few words to let you know how bad he’s longing to be with you.

“i just miss you,” he confessed.

taken aback by his candid admission, you halt your cleaning and settle onto the couch, eager to hear him better.

always so attentive. 

your small gestures never ceased to bewilder sae. how could you love him this gentle when every part of him is devoid of such?

“i’m here. aren’t i, love?”

fuck it all. everything be damned already because he’s booking that flight first thing tomorrow morning.

he needs to see you. he needs to hold you. and the earlier that is fulfilled, the sooner this familiar ache of loneliness will leave the pit of his stomach. he despised it.

sae detests how intimately acquainted he is with this sensation. why wouldn't he? it’s a constant reminder of a youth he lost.

he took a deep breath, drawing strength from the trust you had established between you. you had encouraged him to be vulnerable, assuring him that his emotions were safe in your hands. you would never wield them against him as weapons.

emotions. they never fared well with him. but for you, he would try.

“talk to me. i'm here, sae,” you implore, your voice carrying understanding — a lifeline amidst his relentless yearning.

you’re not here.  

“you're not…” here. his voice quivers, the vulnerability seeping through the cracks of his guarded façade. “at least, not close enough.”

sae was sure of it. 

sure of how four years of being alone in spain will never come close to the madness of being a month away from you.

your face softened, mirroring the tenderness in your heart as his words reached you. 

the depths of sae itoshi's longing were laid bare before you, and you cherished this vulnerable side of him that he rarely showed. the unspoken connection between you spoke volumes, as no one knew him quite like you did.

“i know... just a little bit more. just three more days, right?” you reassured, your voice laced with affection.

his response held a hint of hesitation, a glimpse into the impatience that simmered beneath the surface. sae wasn't simply counting down the days; he was counting every hour, every minute until he could hold you in his arms once again.

“i think so,” he replied, though there was a hint of something unsaid in his voice. and you were right to sense it. to sae, it’s no longer three more days. he will see you the day after tomorrow, pronto.

“i can't wait to see you, sae,” you whispered through the screen of your phone. 

“so do i.” madly so.

a day earlier than his supposed arrival, sae found himself standing before the familiar door of your shared apartment, a large suitcase in hand.

not wasting another second, sae stepped over the threshold, his eyes scanning the familiar space that had become a sanctuary for both of you. the soft glow of the living room lights, the scent of your favorite candle wafting through the air — it all enveloped him in a sense of belonging.

finally, you emerged from the depths of your shared bedroom, your eyes meeting his as he turned to face you. 

a surge of emotions welled up inside you, threatening to spill over. unable to contain yourself any longer, you threw yourself into his waiting embrace.

god, how he longed for this. your presence, your warmth, your very essence — it never fails to chase away the remnants of loneliness that had plagued him for far too long.

as you gradually released your grip on sae's neck, your gaze fixated upon his face. "you're back early," you whispered, your voice barely above a breath.

he remained silent, his eyes locked unwaveringly with yours. in that intense gaze, it felt as if he were immersing himself. 

and he was, for your eyes materialized a home sae never knew could exist in his world.

one that isn’t decided on where the next best game is. one that isn’t filled with echoes of his own footsteps. one that he doesn’t frequently find himself sitting alone.

but a home that stays.

out of all the places sae itoshi had been to, this was where he only belonged, where his heart found its only place.

because perhaps home isn't a four-cornered place at all, but rather just a pair of warm eyes greeting him by the door whenever he announces he’s home. 

“welcome home, sae,” you uttered, your words accompanied by a soft smile.

sae, who had grown accustomed to the bitter company of loneliness, once believed he had found contentment in its embrace. 

yet, as he felt the warmth of your presence pressed against him, he realized that he never truly understood what it meant to belong until this very moment. 

the weight of your touch and the tenderness in your eyes shattered the illusion of solitude, leaving him yearning for a future where he would never again be acquainted with the desolate emptiness of his past.

with you, there was no other path he wished to tread, except to revel in this profound happiness that resided in the curve of your lips and the light in your eyes.

he could only hope to never be familiar with solitude ever again.

“yeah,” he murmured, his lips meeting yours in a sweet, lingering kiss. breaking away with a contented sigh, he smiled against your lips and softly uttered, “i'm finally home.”

note. i wrote this while listening to if these sheets were states by atl hehe | i also rightfully blame user @saetorinrin for sending me sad sae thoughts that compelled me to *cough* comfort him | i’m sorry this is shit but pls take it | this is my first long (well it’s more than 500 wc T_T which i normally do for him) of him bec the one i originally planned is now collecting dust in my drafts <3

[fatuiracha]

tsundere!alhaitham x gn!reader, fluff, first kiss. 1.2k. 

a/n: nervous bc this is not my first fic but this is my first genshin fic!!! accept me please <333

alhaitham was. 

something. 

something you couldn’t quite put your finger on. something that drew you towards him like a helpless moth to a burning flame, something that sparks your curiosity more than the crisp pages of the books lining the akademiya shelves surrounding you. something that was once again taking up residence in the space near your desk. 

you couldn’t help but glance towards him out of the corner of your eyes, flashes of his silver-gray hair or his bare right shoulder leaving you no choice but to. the words on the pages blur in front of you and you don’t realize that your pen had started trailing a line across your stack of papers until your hand falls off the edge of the table. 

alhaitham was something. he never spoke to anyone here unless he had to, preferring to work in solitude. there was no one at the akademiya who considered him a friend save the loud blonde man with a flair for drama, and yet he had spent every day of the last week here, in the same aisle of books that you occupied as you rotted through the steps of your latest thesis. days of him stopping by for a few moments turned into weeks of him settling down in a chair by you which turned into a month of him taking up a regular occupation in what you had half endearingly, half frustratingly named your aisle. 

it was different, having him so close to you. you were used to admiring him from afar, watching as he glided across the akademiya floors with a grace that very few of your fellow scholars possessed. you didn’t mind his presence near you, it was the opposite in fact - he was a very welcome distraction. 

you look away quickly when he turns his head towards you, a flush creeping along your face as you feign flipping through the pages of the book you don’t even remember the name of. his soft footsteps track towards you, leveled and commanding even with their lack of sound. 

he stops right by you, crossing his arms as he glares at the bookshelf. his eyes sweep over the rows of texts, and you can hear him muttering to himself. you strain your ears to hear, and you can faintly make out the words chapter fourteen. 

the exact book sitting at the top of the stack on your desk. 

“do you need this?” you startle him out of his mumbling and his piercing eyes meet yours for a moment before glancing towards where you were pointing. they light up when he sees that you have the exact thing he was looking for, and before you can hand it to him he’s leaning over you to take it himself. 

he’s invading your space completely, his face mere centimeters from yours from how far he has to lean to reach it. his face is right there, and instead of saying something sane like oh, i can hand it to you, you lean forward and press your lips to the smooth skin of his cheek instead. 

he freezes, hand still outstretched, and although his time seemed to stop yours was going into overdrive. did you really just do that?

you push your chair back and it makes what must have been the loudest screech you’ve ever heard, bouncing off the stacks of books and echoing through your skull. you stand up so fast that your legs almost give out and the papers on your desk fall to the floor in a flurry, but you don’t care. your footsteps are hurried as you walk away, crossing aisle after aisle until you find one that was empty. you lean back against a shelf and let out a breath, closing your eyes and coming to the terms that you just kissed the acting grand sage of the akademiya and were probably going to be promptly dismissed from your position soon after. 

a beat of silence passes, then another as you regulate your breathing and try to soothe your pounding heart. 

“you forgot these,” his voice startles you out of your spiral moments later, and you let out a shriek that you will later deny producing. 

“i’m so sorry, that was totally out of line,” you ramble out, unable to meet his eyes from where he was standing in front of you. “it won’t happen again.”

“here,” he says in response, once again breaking you out of your whirlwind of anxious thoughts as he thrusts out a stack of papers at you. your thesis notes. his nose twitches as you take them from his gingerly, ensuring that your fingers didn’t touch. 

“thank you?” you almost squeak, and you clear your throat to rid yourself of whatever that was. “i’m sorry, again.”

“why are you sorry?” he asks, genuinely confused in a way you’ve never seen him before. 

“for kissing you?” you’re confused too, now. 

“i’ve spent hours a day sitting by you for a while now, when i could be doing my work anywhere else,” he starts slowly, as if explaining something to a child “you intrigue me. trust me, if i wanted you to apologize, i wouldn’t have given you the opportunity to do it in the first place.”

“i,” you cut yourself off, blinking at him. “intrigue you?”

“you’re one of the only ones that write research here that isn’t, how do i put this,” he rests his chin in his hand, eyes perking upwards as he thinks. “utterly useless. and then i discovered that the beautiful mind was attached to an equally beautiful person. so yes, you intrigue me.”

“you like me,” you smile, understanding coating your words. “that’s what you mean, right?”

“yes, and you like me too.” he says it so plainly, as if stating a fact about human nature or the trees lining the streets outside. like there was no room for error, no chance that he could be proven wrong. “you kissed me.”

“i kissed your cheek,” you defend yourself, a little offended that he had seen through your paper thin veil so easily. he smirks in response, leaning into your space again and cupping your face in his hand. he pauses a hair’s breadth away from you, his eyes flickering between yours as he waits for any kind of rejection. you close the gap between the two of you yourself, slotting his lips against yours and pressing your cheek further into his palm. 

it’s good. for all the multi-syllable words that made a home in your brain, all you can think of is how nice it feels to be so close to him, to feel his eyelashes flutter against your skin and to smell the clean, earthy cologne that he wears up close. 

“now that you’ve kissed me,” he mumbles against your lips, leaving a lingering peck there before pulling back. you resist the urge to chase after him, having embarrassed yourself enough for one day. “can you admit that you like me?”

“if you answer my question first,” you pause, smiling at the way he quirks his brow at you in surprise. “you didn’t even need chapter fourteen, did you?” 

alhaitham was surely something, but you were beginning to understand him a bit more now. at the very least, you understood the way he looked when his ears went red. 

[n0cturn4]

Silent Heartbeats

Character: Jason Todd x Reader Summary: In the shadows of an eternal city, where the night never yields, a love resonates in the distance. A lighthouse that has dimmed, transforming into memories that fall like fine rain. Time, like a biting wind, has separated hearts that once beat together. Now, silence echoes, and absence becomes the loudest voice—a pain that breathes, that bleeds, but never dies. Word Count: 1052 Music: Dear Soulmate - Laufey

The memories of that time seemed so distant, like a faint mist hovering between clear days and dark nights. With each breath, the weight of the past returned, bringing echoes of a life that, at one time, had been as real as the air you breathed.

Waking up without him was like opening your eyes to an emptiness that stretched across your entire existence. There was no more sound of light footsteps beside the bed, nor the low murmur he made when returning from patrols, exhausted but always trying to hide his fatigue behind a shy smile. Jason. Just the name brought a pang to your chest, a reminder of all that was and all that could have been.

You remember that last night as a dream—fragile and ethereal, something that faded with every attempt to capture it. Gotham pulsed outside, indifferent to what was happening inside the that of your mind.

He left that night with that usual smile, a half-smile, perhaps already knowing it would be his final farewell. You didn't know. How could you have known? Your heart wanted to believe everything would be fine, as always, but there was something in his eyes, something you only noticed much later, something that told you he wouldn’t return.

The song you wrote for him is still engraved in your memory, each word now carrying a weight that has become almost unbearable. The words mingled with the sound of his laughter, with the way he held your hand in the quietest moments, as if his very presence beside you was the answer to that question.

That simple life you dreamed of—songs about camping, lazy mornings with toast and coffee, days without the shadow of Gotham over you—never materialized. You wrote it for a future that never came, a future that died with him. The unspoken promises, the hidden smiles, all of it now hangs over you like a weight, a reminder that Jason never had the chance to live the simplicity you both dreamed of.

And now, all that remains are the memories, fragments of a life you revisit now and then in the solitude of the nights. The way he looked at you that last time, his fingers gently tracing the scribbles in your notebook, as if he wanted to imprint every line, every word, as if he knew he would never have the chance to hear them for real.

"One day, I'll sing for you..." you had said.

But that day never came. And you were left with the song, a song that no longer has ears to hear, only the emptiness. The emptiness Jason left—not just in the city, but in you.

Maybe, somewhere far away, he is listening. Maybe, wherever he is, he already knew that his time was too short for that song but long enough to leave a mark on you that would never fade.

The sound of the rain gently tapping against the window brings you back to the present, but the memories persist, insistent, pulling you into the days you shared with Jason. It's like an invisible current dragging you, a river of memories you cannot resist. That tired smile, the way he held your hand as if every touch was the last, as if he knew he was about to be taken by a fate neither of you could control.

You remember how he used to talk about the future, always with that veiled hope. "When this is over, I swear, we'll get out of here... just the two of us." But Gotham never allowed those promises, never granted a peaceful future. The promises were carried away by the wind along with the words Jason never had the chance to fulfill.

There was one morning in particular, etched in your mind like a painting bathed in sunlight. A soft breeze entered the room, gently swaying the curtains while Jason slept beside you, his features usually hardened by battle softened by a rare moment of peace. You watched him in silence, trying to memorize every detail—the rhythm of his breathing, the warmth of his skin against yours. It was the first time in a long while that he seemed... serene, as if Gotham's weight didn’t reach him there, between the two of you.

In that moment, you believed there might be a chance for you both. That somehow, he would survive it all, that your love could be stronger than the darkness that surrounded you. But those days of hope grew brief, and reality always returned, relentless.

The last time you saw him, Jason looked at you in a different way, as if he wanted to imprint every detail of you, as if he was storing it for eternity. "You make the world seem less noisy," he said, with a tenderness that broke something inside you. But his words weren’t a promise; they were a disguised farewell. Maybe he already knew what awaited him that night. Maybe he felt the end approaching.

Now, all that remains is the echo of his absence, a void reverberating in every corner of your life. You still remember his scent, the sound of his raspy voice, the little things that made him, Jason. Those memories are all you have left, all that remains after fate cruelly took him from you.

The streets of Gotham moved on, indifferent, but something in you broke that day. The boy who dreamed of making the world a better place, the boy who loved you silently, was torn away before he could truly live.

You touch the notebook where you wrote the song, your fingers tracing the words with silent reverence. The melody was never heard by him, but it’s engraved in you, like a scar. You wonder if, wherever he is, he still thinks of you. If he feels the same emptiness, the same longing.

And though time passes, Jason remains alive in your memories, like a gentle ghost, always present, always by your side. The world may have lost a vigilante, but you lost something much greater. You lost the love that, in such a short time, taught you how to dream.

[whirlybirbs]

— THE FALL ; SUGURU GETO ; 夏油傑

summary: it's loud. geto can silence it. pairing: suguru geto / f!reader ; set post-hidden inventory wc: 3.6k tags: mentions of drug reliance, sleep deprivation, darker themes, wholesome crushes, jujutsu high more like jujutsu university, texting as a plot device, hot n heavy make-out sesh included between the angst a/n: (johnny cash voice) i hhurt.... myselff... todaay....

YOU MISS NOTHING more than you miss sleep.

you crave the welcoming, black, empty bliss; the slip of the other-world passing like a fog behind your eyelids. an embrace as heavy as an anchor in a pitch colored sea. endless — rest.

the veil is thinner now, in the silence of night.

it's when the voices are loudest.

your ears ring with nonsensical chatter condensed into whispered pleading. the spirits reach out to you, hands grasping for purchase in your energy. they clamor and cling, desperate to be heard.

they talk. and talk. and talk and TALK.

... you could take the zolpidem.

the bottle on your nightstand stares at you in the bleeding red light of your clock. the sedative, crimson and etched, nearly begs to be swallowed down just as you've done every night since you were young.

but it's different now.

since the hallucinations, since the forgetting. since... since a month ago, now. since yu. since you started to wonder if all this, if jujutsu sorcery, was worth it.

the pill promises sleep. it promises unmoving silence. it may promise a ball and chain, but with it's driven stake it promises a dampened sense of awareness to the second world around you — of spirit and curse. peace.

they also promise emptiness. drifting confusion. sadness. dreams where you're all smiling again.

you roll over.

and then you watch the stars fade, and the sun rise.

suguru geto.

you find it hard to sit in his presence.

you wonder if he knows the curses he carry chatter away in your ears. you wonder if he hears them too; if their words have ever struck their mark.

he is a talented exorcist.

you are a talented investigator.

you two would work well together.

but, now — in this world — you two are hardly anything more than stars passing in the night sky.

that will change.

"you haven't been sleeping."

his voice is deep — the cadence is calming. if you focus hard, you can tune out the river of whispers that follow him like a shadow.

you turn, casting a look over your shoulder.

your eyes feel heavy. your lashes are weighed down by the hours and hours and hours of the passing days. suguru looks no better. he stalks down the hallway towards you.

you and suguru are hardly friends. more like passing acquaintances. you much preferred solitude, and you found gojo to be unsteady — and where one was, the other was close behind. gojo is capable, yes, but far too explosive for you.

after all, you listen.

what you hadn't realized is — in this moment — that suguru has been doing the same.

in your nook, nestled away in the morning sun, you're gripping your journal. in this part of the dorms, it's quieter. far from everyone, you find the energy has settled into a low hum. you can write here.

but recently, the pen scratches have become more desperate.

WHO AM I? WHO AM I? WHO AM I? W̶H̸O̴ ̴A̴M̶ ̵I̸? W̶H̸O̴ ̴A̴M̶ ̵I̸? W̶H̸O̴ ̴A̴M̶ ̵I̸? W̵̙̦̤͌̓͝H̵͎̓O̴̟̓́͘ ̸̧̺̫̿́Ả̶̘͖͜M̵̯̪͔̀̕ ̵̺͂͜I̴̹͑?̴̮̻͔̉̀ W̵̙̦̤͌̓͝H̵͎̓O̴̟̓́͘ ̸̧̺̫̿́Ả̶̘͖͜M̵̯̪͔̀̕ ̵̺͂͜I̴̹͑?̴̮̻͔̉̀ W̵̙̦̤͌̓͝H̵͎̓O̴̟̓́͘ ̸̧̺̫̿́Ả̶̘͖͜M̵̯̪͔̀̕ ̵̺͂͜I̴̹͑?̴̮̻͔̉̀

over and over again. over and over. over and over and over—

"the admins are worried," he says with a painful sort of casualness that make you wonder what his goal here is.

you nearly scoff.

you pull your knees closer and close your notebook. shame bites at your ink covered fingertips. you swallow as he sits down on the ledge beside you. his dark eyes level with the ground.

"is that so."

less of a question. more a disregard.

suguru looks up. you look away.

"you sound," he begins slowly, "like you aren't surprised."

you sit in that for a moment. you squirm under his thoughtful gaze. it's nearly painful to be watched so closely by him. suguru geto is handsome; but he is cursed. they bleed into his energy, all of the absorbed curses. they chitter and chat and bite at your senses.

"between you and i," you mutter, "maybe they should be."

he hums. you wonder why you told him that.

he claps his hands before him and leans forward onto his knees.

you wince.

"between you and i," he says slowly, "maybe they should worry about both of us."

geto stands, tucks his hands into his pockets, and watches you for a moment longer. then, without a word, he continues on down the hall towards the dim, lonely exit.

for the first time, you really watch him.

gojo is on a solo assignment.

geto arrives in masamichi's office to find you there already. there is a steaming cup of green tea in your hands. you cradle it close to your chest; this momentary pleasure is enough to make your eyes heavy.

when the sliding door rattles open, you turn your eyes towards him. you cross your legs. your skin itches. the rush of whispers that accompanies him crawls up your face.

suguru notices the wince. he settles down in the seat beside you. his hair is down, spilling over his shoulders. he smells like sandalwood.

you sip your tea.

"i'm sending you both to sawara."

sawara.

chiba prefecture is quiet.

there's the old katori shrine outside of town.

it's dedicated to futsunushi no mikoto; the kami is revered for swordsmanship. a warrior.

the shrine —or whatever has nested in its sacred walls — has been talking for a while now.

you can hear it the moment you step off the train.

geto suguru isn't far behind. your bag, slung over his shoulder, swings as he takes a long stride onto the platform. after all, he insisted.

geto nearly runs into your back; he stops short as people flow out around you. you're rooted there, your boots cemented to the yellowing tile of the station platform.

it's late now. the station's warm, honeyed lights fade into the darkness beyond. suguru can hear frogs chirping in the late summer air. somewhere, a cricket's song crescendos.

geto's eyes momentarily narrow.

"do you feel it?" he asks slowly as the doors close behind him and the train pulls away. your hair whips in the breeze. then, a breathe passes, and everything settles into quiet again.

you stare ahead, through the station.

"i hear it."

with that, you begin moving. suguru inhales, and watches you for a moment longer.

you've always been a hard read.

you're the same year as him, satoru and shoko. but you're cold. tired. you seem to thrive in isolation — no, no. no, you've forced the isolation. suguru sees that.

he's impressed you can sense the curse this far out from the location.

even for him, with his intrinsic ability to commune with them, he feels nothing but the base pulse of cursed energy. no seismic differences.

geto is pulled from his thoughts when you turn and catch his gaze over your shoulder.

his chest tightens for a moment.

the feeling is strange.

like you.

your driver drops you off at a hotel around midnight.

the pink vacant sign hums outside your window.

the sheets are stiff. the closet is musty. your bed is small. at the very least, the water had been hot.

but... suguru.

it's all you can hear.

his curses — not him. the things intwined with his spirit are gossiping in tongues ancient and unknown. they chitter and chirp and giggle and scoff and chatter and talk and talk and talk AND TALK.

you slam your pillow down over your head.

across the hall, suguru is awake.

his head is in his hands.

assignment after assignment. exorcise. absorb. again and again.

how much longer of this can he take?

again and again AND AGAIN—

by his bedside, his phone hums.

he tries to ignore it. but, another ping riles him out of his headspace. heaving a long sigh, the dark haired sorcerer leans to swipe the nokia from its charger.

satoru's name pops up on the screen, and his inbox blinks at him.

[ GOJO: ] a lil birdie told me that ur hanging with the local hot freak this wknd [ GOJO: ] how is she? freaky? ;)

geto scoffs. he's quick to type back. the charm on his phone — a gift from shoko for his birthday last year — sways. the ceramic, worn frog tinkers against the back of his phone.

[ GETO: ] don't b mean. [ GOJO: ] hey i love freaks. ask shoko. she knows. [ GOJO: ] you love freaks 2. u 2 wud b cute 2gthr [ GOJO: ] ... [ GOJO: ] ur ignoring me [ GOJO: ] HELLO!!!!!!11!! [ GETO: ] she is rlly nice. just quiet. talk 2 u tmrw :-) gnight [ GOJO: ] go get ur goodnight kiss buddy ilysm

he flips the phone shut and tosses it down to the sheets.

just in time for a series of quiet knocks to garner his attention.

heaving himself upwards, the sorcerer opens the door with a quirked expression.

on the other side of the door, you're standing there.

your face is contorted into pain.

before he can even open his mouth, you're gritting out a pained snarl.

"can you keep it down?"

geto blinks. "...i'm sorry?"

"you're loud. too loud."

his dark eyes widen.

oh.

and suddenly, as if someone has slipped cotton in your ears, there's near silence. not complete. but muffled. it's enough — and suddenly you realize that suguru understood.

he listened.

somehow, he's banished any curses from his radius. a minor exorcism, maybe? a domain? it's... fuck, it's quiet.

his eyes are soft. "i hadn't realized."

you feel as if someone has suddenly shoved a dozen roses down your throat. they threaten to spill from your mouth.

your voice is quiet.

"...no one ever does."

you're stunned into a breathless awe.

and then he smiles. "i am sorry — i hadn't realized how sensitive your technique was. it was rude of me to not consider how my own may impact you."

you're gobsmacked. you stare up at him in the dim light of the hotel doorway. you swallow. "don't apologize."

"you're not sleeping," he says as he tucks his hands into his pockets, "because of me. so, apology earned."

you shake your head. slow at first. then, you screw your eyes shut tight.

"it's not you."

"no?"

"no."

suguru crosses his arms. "you haven't slept in a while."

subconsciously you mimic him, closing off your body as you roll your head around and shrug. "you said it yourself — admin is worried."

he hums. "and nothing helps?"

normally, you'd pull away — leave the conversation. too much talking. too much noise. but it's quiet, and suguru smells like sandalwood. it must be his shampoo. something. you're rooted here under his dark gaze.

"i have sleeping pills," you mutter as your lashes flutter. his gaze is still and solid.

"do they help?"

"i see things. i... i dream," you don't know why you're telling him this, "and i feel wrong. and i forget."

his chest aches again.

"how...? how did you...?" you gesture tiredly about; you're referencing the silence. the stillness, "it's... peaceful."

geto toes the carpet with his black socks. "you listen to curses. i talk to them. at the root of it, it's that simple."

you exhale.

your shoulders relax.

you close your eyes.

"thank you, suguru."

"any time," he says.

and he means it.

the shrine has been talking for a while now.

that night, the talking becomes yelling and the yelling becomes shrieking.

you head out to the shrine at sunrise.

the dew is still fresh on the grass. the torii, a deep red, bleeds into your vision as you step through the archway and into the sacred space. ahead, the shrine stands tall.

the shrieks are louder now.

clinging to the doorway of the haiden, the prayer hall, is a curse.

beneath it lays the body of a woman. her shōzoku is splayed about her like a puddle of snow. her chest has been ripped open. pitch black hair spills down the steps, and feet away lays her kanmuri.

behind you, geto frowns.

"there's something in the shrine," you say as you hold the curses gaze.

suguru nods. this shrine's cursed energy is all wrong. there's more here than this simple manifestation.

"i'm going in," you say as you step forward, "i trust you won't take too long out here, geto."

his brow quirks. he nearly smiles. "well, well. someone's feeling rested."

you throw him a slow smile over your shoulder.

it's the first time he's ever seen it.

his chest ignites.

you disappear into the shrine, stepping over the woman's body. the curse above the doorway — with it's snapping jaws and bulbous eyes — has disregarded you in favor for geto's surge of energy.

"be careful," geto calls.

you throw him a thumbs up and melt away into the dark.

it was a ceremonial dagger.

masamichi has it locked away upon return to the tokyo campus.

upon touching it back at the shrine, it poured out centuries worth of horror. whispered depictions of death rushed up to the surface; it nearly burned to hold. the voices that accompanied it were tortured and pained. the rattle of a hundred last breaths were a choir in your ears.

suguru geto carried the exorcised parcel all the way back to tokyo in his pack.

masamichi commends you both on a job well done.

as you're leaving his office, geto nudges your arm gently with his.

you look up.

he has his phone extended.

"i meant it, y'know, about the whole 'any time' thing."

your eyes brighten.

you hold his gaze as a smile pulls at your cheeks. you take the cellphone, eyeing the new contact screen momentarily before beginning to thumb in your information.

"heyo! look who's back!"

geto turns, spotting satoru and shoko down the hall.

immediately, satoru spots you. and geto's phone in your hands.

gasp—!

A CONTACT SCREEN? a PHONE NUMBER?

... HIS BEST FRIEND REALLY IS GROWING UP...

you nudge geto. you hand him his cell back.

"here."

suguru blinks. "i'll... i'll text you."

"sure," you nod as a bit of nerves creep in as his two best friends approach closer, "definitely."

"okay," suguru is staring at you.

you're smiling.

"okay," you confirm, nodding.

you turn, offer him a slight wave. suguru swallows as you shuffle a bit, watching him a moment longer. he offers up his own sheepish wave.

he feels like himself.

it's the next day, right before noon, when you receive a text from an unknown number.

[ TXT: ] picking up lunch. want anything?

you're in the library, nested in the stacks as you pour over some readings on sorcerers throughout history and notable curse users. frankly, you'd lost interest an hour ago. but, essays are essays.

somehow, you know it's geto.

[ YOU: ] i'll owe you. [ GETO: ] don't worry abt it :-) where r u? [ YOU: ] floor 3 of the library. working on an essay [ GETO: ] coming :-)

... cute.

he brings you and onigiri and a soda. he eats with you, and you don't even realize the gentle quiet that's enveloped you both until the warmth of exhaustion creeps in and nothing is there to fight it.

suguru can see your eyes get heavier.

"take a nap. i'll keep watch."

so you do after you smile at him the way he loves.

[ GETO: ] u in the library again? [ YOU: ] u stalking me? :p [ GETO: ] bringing u lunch [ GETO: ] be up soon [ YOU: ] ur 2 sweet :,)

it's a new routine that quickly evolves.

in the library, during your study period, suguru brings lunch and you slip asleep in peaceful quiet after eating while he works. both of you, on full stomachs, settle into comfort.

suguru silences it all, and finally you can sleep.

an hour of shut eye.

it's been a week of this.

suguru rouses you gently. "rise and shine."

his hand is big and warm along your back.

you inhale sharply. daylight bombards your vision, and you pull your gaze up to see geto hovering over you. his hair is pulled back, and his lips are pulled into a soft smile.

you feel like your world stops for a second.

fuck.

"sorry," you groggily mumble, "i, uh... i guess i'm tired."

"don't be," he says — he moves to gather his papers, "you know, if you need sleep..."

his words trail off.

you rub your face and sit up straight. your back aches from the library's wooden chairs. you roll your neck and try to wring loose the crick in the muscle there.

then, you catch the meaning of his words.

there's that feeling again.

[ YOU: ] good luck on ur assignment [ GETO: ] gonna b gone about week or 2 [ GETO: ] i'm sorry. try 2 sleep 4 me pls [ YOU: ] don't b sorry [ YOU: ] just b safe :) [ YOU: ] see u when ur back :)

three weeks.

it takes three weeks.

you don't sleep.

W̵̙̦̤͌̓͝H̵͎̓O̴̟̓́͘ ̸̧̺̫̿́Ả̶̘͖͜M̵̯̪͔̀̕ ̵̺͂͜I̴̹͑?̴̮̻͔̉̀ W̵̙̦̤͌̓͝H̵͎̓O̴̟̓́͘ ̸̧̺̫̿́Ả̶̘͖͜M̵̯̪͔̀̕ ̵̺͂͜I̴̹͑?̴̮̻͔̉̀ W̵̙̦̤͌̓͝H̵͎̓O̴̟̓́͘ ̸̧̺̫̿́Ả̶̘͖͜M̵̯̪͔̀̕ ̵̺͂͜I̴̹͑?̴̮̻͔̉̀

Ḭ̷̚ ̴̲̮̺̺̥͙̠̖͉̓͜Ç̷͙̠͖̣͙̫̘̰̣̝̹̻̹͝Ȧ̴̧͖͉̙̙͖̥̥̩̼͜ͅṄ̷̜N̸̡̟̭̬͈̘̭̠̽̋̐̐͛̊͂̔́́̾̅̐͘͝ͅͅŐ̴͓͖̞͍͔͓̞̦̪́̌T̶̨̞͕̦͌͋͊̂̉̈́̆́̾̕ ̶̨̫̺̯͇̝̰̦͔̓̊̋̓̃̾̃͛̚͝͠͝K̶̘̼̫̯̀̀̾̅̋̈́̂͋̀͗́͐̀̾E̵̤̘͓̱̺̾̀͊͂͊̄E̷̢͖̝͓͍̭͚̹̘̘̣̊͊̃̋͐̋͆͂̎͛̾͘P̵̱̭̿̃̓̈͗͜͠ ̶̡̛̼̬̯̪͔͙͍͈̽͆̈́̈́̓D̴̜͉̮̠̩̫͎͒̄̐̀̎͛͂̔̒̓̈́͘̕͠͠Ơ̴͔̼͇̖͕̽̑͂̾̇͆́͆̋̈́̊̕̚͝I̵̢̙̘̠̊̏̂̔̈̒͒́͗̈́́́͘Ṉ̸̢̨̟̩̯̌̋͋̾͐̿́̋̏̀͋̄̏̈́̕G̷͎̟̬͕̤̓́͂͒ ̶̛̘͈̝̇̔̇́͑̀͂͋T̷̢̡̢̯̲̲̝̝͓̜̔̈́̄̏͊̾̃͝ͅḨ̷̢̛̺͈̣̭̲͕̙̰͓͉͎̾͛̓̓͐̎̚Į̵̻̥̯͕̙̩̙̦̘̰̲̺̦̞̆͊S̴̥͕̠̪̀̅̓̑͐̒͊̄͂͊̎͂͘̕͝ W̶H̸O̴ ̴A̴M̶ ̵I̸? ń̴͇̾ò̷̹̙ ̸̭͉̂̆ǵ̵̣ḙ̸̢͌t̷͚͓͝o̵͓̓͝ͅ ̶̩̅ḯ̴̫̝̅ ̸̹͚̆m̷̭̉̈́i̶̮̞̾s̷͈̜̕s̸̡̉͐ ̴͔̒͝g̷̰̦͌̅e̴̹͋͊t̵͖̩̑̐o̴͈̝̾ ̶̛͍ẉ̷̜̌̄ḧ̴̠̼́e̷̠̹̿͌r̴̻̫͆̚ë̵͈͎́̀ ̶͕͍̌į̴͎̽̽s̵̗̘̈͝ ̸̠̀̉g̸̤͛̋e̶͔͝t̷̰͒̈o̴͉͋̒

T̴̬͋H̶̰͚͖͕́̒͐̊E̷̠̽̔̈́Ỹ̶͔̈́̊ ̷͈̱͓̽K̵̨͉͓͋͒̅̾E̷̙͗͛͂E̷̻̦̮̊̋P̸̨̬͈̈́̈́͛͝ ̶̢͕̼̒̑͗̈́T̸̨͋̇̀A̵̧̙̹͒̓͘ͅL̷͈̮̇̿̐̾͜K̴̨̳̫̾̅͘ͅI̷̛̟̾͘Ņ̶̎̎Ģ̵̞͝ ̵̯͕͓̈̉́A̸̮̗̿̋̆̕Ņ̶̹̗̒́D̸͇͓̑̐̕ ̸̢̭͕͛͝͠T̶̻̄͝Ä̶͇̻̞́͌͌̈́Ļ̵̳̫̄K̵̤̻̓̓̈́͝Í̶̧̻N̷̹̜͛́G̷͇̤̈̍

you've been pacing in your dorm for the last thirty minutes.

it's 2:38 in the morning.

you cannot sleep.

your phone is in your hand. a text is sitting there, unsent. the cursor winks.

suguru and gojo and shoko returned earlier this evening. you hadn't had time to even say hello to geto before the three were pulled into a briefing with masamichi.

you decided to try and go to bed.

that wasn't happening.

across campus, geto suguru is staring at the ceiling.

he snatches his phone the split moment it goes off. he was waiting. he would never admit that to himself.

[ YOU: ] u awake?

it's not even a minute later that your phone glows alive with his reply.

[ GETO: ] coming

he swears he's never leapt into a pair of joggers faster. he yanks a hoodie on, and trips over himself as he muscles on his trainers. he tries to be quiet, knowing full well that if gojo heard him sneaking out from his room across the hall he would never hear the end of it.

gojo has already been up his ass about you.

at least shoko is sweet about it.

he makes it across campus in record time; and he's fixing his bun when you yank your door open.

something is different.

he's different.

"hi."

his breath catches.

"hey."

there's a moment where both of you just watch one another, lips parted and breaths bated.

then, geto crosses the threshold.

he steps forward, and you take one step back. enough that he's close now. suguru is in your orbit. your hand slips from the door, and he takes it upon himself to close it behind him without looking.

the tension in the air is electric.

it's darker now; your desk lamp illuminates the room and casts inky shadows.

his eyes are bouncing across your features — and you do the same. in the privacy of your room, you feel like your heart is going to burst. in his silence, you feel dizzy.

it's different this time.

near frantic.

the room swims as you let him take a step closer.

your mouth is dry. "i'm sorry it's late — i missed you. and, just, after what you said that time in the library..."

he's toe to toe with you now, towering above you as he leans closer.

"you haven't slept."

"can't... not... without you."

his chest presses to yours. you swallow thickly as he crowds your space. his energy mingles momentarily with yours in a flash of uncontrolled touch.

"this is a bad idea," he croaks.

"you and i," you confirm, nodding as your eyes slip to his mouth, "yea."

"yea," but his hands are slipping along your jaw. he's eyeing your lips, "real bad idea."

you swear it's like someone has run a searing hot knife along your heart — it feels... good. dangerous.

BETWEEN YOU AND I, MAYBE THEY SHOULD WORRY ABOUT BOTH OF US.

"tell me you want me to leave," he mutters; his nose brushes yours and you lift your jaw to chase the touch. his eyes are dark, "tell me to fuck off."

you shake your head. suguru's mouth hangs open. he wets his lips.

"please stay."

the waves crashes down; the kiss is harsh and rough. but it's perfect. it's silent and comforting and frantic and manic and it tells you enough that you shouldn't be shocked when suguru geto falls from grace in a week's time.

but that's not now.

now is hot and messy, mouths mingling as hands root themselves in clothing. it's desperate; desperate enough that you pull him through the room by his hood. it's everything to suguru. it's what he's wanted.

you're different.

you know what it's like to suffer in sorcery.

you make him feel fine. like he isn't splitting at the seams. like he isn't disgusted by every walking bag of flesh on the street. like he isn't falling apart.

you chase his mouth when he pulls away to take a gulp of air; his back finds your door. geto is fast to knot his hands in your shirt and swing you around.

he cages you against the wood.

"this is a bad idea."

you shouldn't be shocked when suguru geto falls from grace in a week's time.

but you're not far behind.

after all, he is the welcoming, black, empty bliss; the slip of the other-world passing like a fog behind your eyelids. an embrace as heavy as an anchor in a pitch colored sea.

he is endless — he is rest.

and they were right to worry about the both of you.

[radical-revolution]

SILENCE

"Trust yourself. At the root, at the core, there is pure sanity, pure openness. Don’t trust what you have been taught, what you think, what you believe, what you hope. Deeper than that, trust the silence of your being." ~Gangaji

“Silence is sometimes the best answer” ~Dalai Lama

“Emptiness is emptiness. San Francisco or Delhi. Wherever you go, the emptiness surrounds you. Silence will follow you wherever you go.” ~Papaji

In the sweet territory of silence, we touch the mystery. It's the place of reflection and contemplation, and it's the place where we can connect with the deep knowing, to the deep wisdom way. ~Angeles Arrien

Don't look for meaning in the words. Listen to the silences. ~Samuel Beckett

Nothing is so like God as silence. ~Meister Eckhart

Silence is God's first language; everything else is a poor translation. In order to hear that language, we must learn to be still and to rest in God. ~Thomas Keating

There is no need to go to India or anywhere else to find peace. You will find that deep place of silence right in your room, your garden, or even your bathtub. ~Elisabeth Kubler-Ross

Silence is the shaft we descend to the depths of contemplation. Silence is the vehicle that takes us to the innermost center of our being which is the place for all authentic practice. ~Elaine MacInnes

It is in deep solitude and silence that I find the gentleness with which I can truly love my brother and sister. ~Thomas Merton

The silence is there within us. What we have to do is to enter into it, to become silent, to become the silence. The purpose of meditation and the challenge of meditation is to allow ourselves to become silent enough to allow this interior silence to emerge. Silence is the language of the spirit. ~John Mains

Silence of the heart is necessary so you can hear God everywhere — in the closing of the door, in the person who needs you, in the birds that sing, in the flowers, in the animals. ~Mother Teresa

Let me rest in Your will and be silent. Then the light of Your joy will warm my life. Its fire will burn in my heart and shine for Your glory. This is what I live for. Amen, amen. ~Thomas Merton

The seeker's silence is the loudest form of prayer. ~Swami Vivekananda

Still music

Quiet sound

Deepwater

Silent ground ~Zen Saying

The friend of silence comes close to God. In secret, he converses with him and receives his light. ~John Climacus

The thing is to kill the mind, somehow. Those who have not the strength to follow the inquiry method are advised Pranayama as a help to control the mind. And Pranayama is of two kinds: one of controlling and regulating the breath and the other of simply watching the breath. ~ Ramana Maharshi

[n1ght0f-nyx]

Could you do an Ezra x reader of how they met and how that relationship may have started?

new meetings

how you and ezra meet :)) gn reader

warnings/tags- minor mentions of anxiety, packs, love confessions, nothing much

word count- 1275

Ezra never liked parties. The noise, the crowd, the endless stream of overlapping voices—it all grated against his senses. For a werewolf with heightened hearing and a penchant for solitude, it was akin to torture. But his cousin, Brienne, had begged him to come. She said it would do him good to get out, to meet people, to stop isolating himself.

“Come on, Ezra,” she’d said with that big, disarming smile of hers. “You’ve got to live a little. Who knows? You might even have fun.”

Fun wasn’t exactly what Ezra had in mind when he found himself awkwardly clutching a plastic cup of soda in the corner of Brienne's backyard. Fairy lights twinkled in the trees, and a bonfire crackled in the middle of the yard, casting dancing shadows over the small crowd of partygoers. Music thumped in the background, mingling with the sound of laughter and clinking glasses. Ezra felt like an intruder, a ghost drifting through a space that wasn’t meant for him.

He was just about to slip away unnoticed when he heard a voice—soft but clear, cutting through the noise like a lifeline.

“Hey, do you mind if I join you? You look like you could use some company.”

Ezra turned, his heart lurching unexpectedly. You stood there, a friendly smile on your face, holding your own drink. You weren’t like the others at the party, who seemed to be competing for who could be the loudest or most attention-grabbing. There was something grounded about you, something... safe.

“Oh, uh, sure,” he mumbled, stepping aside to make room on the bench he’d been occupying alone.

You sat down, your presence warm and unassuming. For a moment, neither of you spoke, the silence stretching out comfortably. Ezra braced himself for the usual barrage of questions that came whenever someone tried to make small talk with him. Instead, you just sipped your drink and looked out at the bonfire, your expression thoughtful.

“Not really your scene either, huh?” you said after a while, your tone light but understanding.

Ezra glanced at you, surprised. “What makes you say that?”

You shrugged. “You’ve got the same look I do when I’m at these things. Like you’re counting down the minutes until it’s socially acceptable to leave.”

He let out a soft, startled laugh. “Yeah. Something like that.”

Your smile widened, and for the first time that evening, Ezra felt a flicker of ease. You weren’t trying to push him into a conversation he wasn’t ready for. You were just... there, sharing the moment without demanding anything from him.

“I’m [Y/N], by the way,” you said, extending a hand.

“Ezra,” he replied, shaking your hand briefly. Your touch was warm, and it lingered in his mind long after you pulled away.

That night marked the beginning of something unexpected. You didn’t push Ezra to open up, didn’t flood him with questions or try to coax him out of his shell. Instead, you seemed content to let things unfold naturally, at his pace. You’d find him at future gatherings—always on the outskirts, always looking like he’d rather be anywhere else—and strike up quiet conversations about anything and everything. Slowly, he started to look forward to those moments.

It wasn’t until a few weeks later that Ezra realized he’d begun seeking you out, too.

You were sitting on a park bench, reading a book, when he saw you next. He hesitated at first, unsure if he should disturb you. But before he could talk himself out of it, you looked up and spotted him. Your face lit up with that warm, welcoming smile he was starting to associate with you, and you waved him over.

“Fancy meeting you here,” you said as he approached.

“Yeah, uh, I was just... walking,” Ezra replied, feeling inexplicably nervous. “Didn’t expect to see anyone I know.”

“Well, you found me. Or I found you. Either way, want to sit?”

He nodded, taking a seat beside you. The two of you fell into an easy rhythm, talking about mundane things—the weather, the book you were reading, the best places to get coffee in town. It was the kind of conversation that didn’t demand anything from him, and for that, he was grateful.

As the weeks turned into months, those moments became more frequent. Ezra found himself opening up to you in ways he never had with anyone else. You didn’t judge him for his quiet nature or his tendency to overthink. Instead, you seemed to appreciate him for exactly who he was.

The first time he brought you to the pack’s territory, Ezra was a bundle of nerves. He’d told you about his family, about the reservation where they all lived together, but introducing you to them was a whole different thing. Werewolves weren’t exactly common knowledge, and while you’d been nothing but accepting of him, he couldn’t shake the fear that you might find his world too strange, too overwhelming.

But as always, you surprised him.

“Wow,” you said as you looked around the sprawling forest that surrounded the pack’s homes. “This is beautiful. You grew up here?”

Ezra nodded, watching your reaction carefully. “Yeah. It’s... it’s home.”

You turned to him with a smile. “I can see why. It suits you.”

The tension in his chest eased a little at your words. He guided you through the territory, showing you the places that meant the most to him—the clearing where he used to stargaze as a pup, the river where he’d spent countless hours fishing and daydreaming. You listened intently, asking thoughtful questions and making him feel like his world wasn’t something to hide.

When you finally met his family, Ezra’s anxiety flared up again. The pack was boisterous and welcoming, but their energy was a stark contrast to his reserved nature. He worried they might overwhelm you, or worse, make you feel like an outsider. But you held your own, matching their warmth with your own quiet charm. By the end of the visit, even his toughest relatives were singing your praises.

“they're a keeper,” Brienne whispered to him as you chatted with one of the elders. “Don’t mess this up.”

Ezra could only nod, his heart swelling with a mixture of pride and relief. He didn’t know what he’d done to deserve you, but he was determined not to take you for granted.

The shift from friendship to something more was subtle, almost imperceptible at first. It was in the way Ezra’s heart raced whenever you were near, the way he found himself looking for excuses to see you, to hear your voice. It was in the way your touch lingered just a little longer, the way your smiles felt brighter when they were directed at him.

One evening, as the two of you sat on the porch of his cabin, watching the sunset paint the sky in hues of orange and pink, Ezra found himself blurting out words he hadn’t planned to say.

“I think I’m falling for you,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

You turned to him, your eyes wide with surprise. For a moment, he panicked, thinking he’d ruined everything. But then you smiled, that soft, radiant smile that had become his anchor, and reached for his hand.

“I think I’ve been falling for you for a while now,” you admitted, your cheeks tinged with a faint blush.

Relief and joy surged through him in equal measure, and for the first time in what felt like forever, Ezra felt like he belonged. Not just in the pack, not just in his world, but with you. And that was more than enough.

[umawka]

In the silence of solitude, i found the loudest echoes of my emotions. ❣️

[taekookielove0130]

Arché

Again, a very short story. To those of you all who can relate, I really wanna say, "Hey! Let's be friends!"

Pairing: Reader!Jungkook x Introvert!Y/N

In the hushed corridors of the city library, where the scent of old books lingered like a comforting embrace, Y/N found her sanctuary. Every weekend, she nestled into her favorite nook, surrounded by towering shelves that held stories of love, adventure, and mystery. It was her escape from the world, a place where her introverted nature wasn’t a barrier but a bridge to countless lives lived through the pages.

For three months, her routine had included stealing glances at Jungkook, who occupied the same corner every Saturday. He was like a character from one of her beloved novels—mysterious, engrossed in his reading, and seemingly unaware of her existence. Y/N’s heart fluttered with a mixture of admiration and longing, yet she never dared to approach him.

Jungkook, on the other hand, was acutely aware of Y/N. He admired her quiet presence, the gentle way she turned each page, and the soft smile that graced her lips at a particularly pleasing passage. He wondered about the stories that captivated her, about the thoughts that danced behind her eyes. And so, after months of silent observation, he decided it was time to bridge the gap between their silent worlds.

One fateful Saturday, as the golden hues of the afternoon sun filtered through the stained-glass windows, casting kaleidoscopic patterns on the library floor, Jungkook took a deep breath and walked towards Y/N’s nook. Her heart skipped a beat as she saw him approach, her book forgotten in her lap.

“Hi,” Jungkook said, his voice gentle yet firm. “I’ve seen you here every weekend. I’m Jungkook.”

Y/N’s eyes widened, a blush creeping up her cheeks. “I… I know who you are,” she stammered, her voice barely above a whisper. “I’m Y/N.”

They spoke of books and dreams, of quiet moments and loud thoughts. As the library’s clock ticked away the hours, they discovered shared passions and differing opinions, each revelation bringing them closer. The library, once a place of solitude, became a backdrop to a budding romance.

Weekends at the library transformed into coffee dates, movie nights, and long walks in the park. Their story, which began in the silence of the written word, flourished in the beauty of shared experiences and whispered confessions. And though they were two vastly different individuals, they found harmony in their contrasts, a melody that played to the rhythm of their hearts.

In the end, Y/N realized that love, much like the stories she cherished, could be found in the most unexpected places. It wasn’t about grand gestures or loud declarations; it was about the quiet understanding between two souls, a connection that spoke volumes in the silence of a library corner. And as for Jungkook, he found that sometimes, the best stories were not just read—they were lived.

As the seasons changed, so did the chapters of Y/N and Jungkook’s story. The library that once served as their meeting ground now witnessed their growth as a couple. They had their own shelf, a collection of books they had read together, each one holding memories of the discussions and laughter they shared.

Their love was a quiet one, but it was the small moments that spoke the loudest. Like the time Jungkook surprised Y/N with a book she’d been longing to read, or when Y/N baked cookies shaped like characters from Jungkook’s favorite novel. They found joy in the simplicity of their shared interests, and comfort in the silence that never needed filling.

One evening, as they walked through the library’s ancient doors, Jungkook led Y/N to their corner, now adorned with soft fairy lights he had set up. Between the pages of a book, he had hidden a note, a question written in delicate script. Y/N’s hands trembled as she read the words that would start a new chapter in their lives.

“Will you write our forever story with me?”

Tears welled up in Y/N’s eyes, a mix of surprise and happiness. She looked up at Jungkook, who was waiting with bated breath. In the quiet of the library, surrounded by stories of ages past, they began to pen their future.

“Yes,” she whispered, and the library, in its timeless wisdom, seemed to approve. The walls, lined with countless tales, now held theirs too—a tale of two hearts meeting amidst the prose and poetry, a tale as old as time and as new as the promise of tomorrow.

Their story continued, not just in the library, but in every place they went together. They explored new cities, tasted different cuisines, and danced under the stars. They created a mosaic of experiences, each piece a testament to their love.

Years later, they would return to the library with their children, pointing to the corner where it all began. “This is where I asked your mom to be my forever,” Jungkook would say, his eyes crinkling with the same warmth that had drawn Y/N to him all those years ago.

And as their children ran through the aisles, laughter echoing off the walls, Y/N and Jungkook would share a knowing look. Their love story, etched in the annals of their hearts, continued to grow, boundless and eternal, just like the stories that surrounded them in their sacred space—the library where two souls became one.

______________________________________________________________

[book-of-baba-fett]

hiiii iris!!! how about softer world #23 for rex and talia?

Leo!! Thanks so much for sending this in. I am so obsessed with the vibes of this. Also sorry it took me long to get to my brain just doesn't cooperate with me. also whoops i made it a lil angsty

warnings: nothing except for some reference to PTSD related dreams

We talk in the dark as we fall asleep, and we are objects in the night sky outside of time. (it is the exact opposite of alone.)

The silence of space always seemed the loudest during the 'night' shift on Republic Navy ships. The ranking clone officers had a preference to be off duty, with younger clones taking over posts, and the Jedi would usually retire for the evening alone, using their solitude to meditate or communicate with Coruscant. For Rex and Talia, it was a rare chance to be in one another's company uninterrupted.

They used Rex's quarters most often; the warmth of his presence always helped Talia unwind after a long day and his own space radiated that comfort. Sometimes she felt most at home in this tiny durasteel room than she ever did in her quarters at the Temple. They had turned the lights off over an hour ago, yet sleep was still evading Rex. The drone of the ventilation systems seemed more grating than usual, an incessant hum that wouldn’t leave him be. He adjusted as well as he could in the bed, already a small space for one person but downright cramped for two, not that either would ever complain about sharing it with one another. Talia’s low breaths tickled the back of his spine as she exhaled, her arm draped loosely over his waist after she had fallen asleep holding him. 

Rex shifted slightly again, trying to find a more forgiving spot on the mattress, but even as he closed his eyes once more his mind was too active; images of holomaps and replays of battles in the days before imprinted in his vision. Rex sighed and slowly rolled over, trying to not jostle the bed much as he turned facing Talia. His efforts to not awake Talia failed as Rex could see her face scrunching in the darkness, her eyes slowly opening as she softly yawned. 

“Can’t sleep again?” She asked groggily, her voice husky. Her hand brushed up and down his back as her eyes found his through the dark, “I can make you some tea to help?”

‘Don’t get up for me,” Rex shook his head, already feeling a pit of guilt for waking her up. “I’ll be fine; just go back to sleep.”

Talia frowned, her eyes still locked on him as she sternly said “You’ve barely slept all week.”

“How would you know if you were sleeping?” Rex retorted with the lightest flick of a smirk.

“I know everything,” Talia deadpanned. Her hand drifted up his side so she could softly cup his cheek. Her voice softened, a hint of worry peaking in, “What’s bothering you?”

“Nothing,” Rex replied when in truth it was everything. But he couldn’t put words to his troubles, not easily and not at this hour. He couldn’t talk about the nightmares that plaqueed him whenever he did manage to fall asleep, ones that placed him back on Umbara, or the mines on Kadavo. Or how his dreams replayed moments in battle, where instead of shots narrowly missing Talia they managed to hit her. No, Rex couldn’t let her worry. He knew Talia saw right through him, and he knew if she were more awake she would remind him how bad of a liar he was. Instead she stared at Rex in that way that made him think she was reading his mind, even with all the times she assured she wasn’t, that that wasn’t how it worked. Still, Talia read him better than any book, knew what each subtle expression on his face meant, could hear the tone behind every sigh or long exhale. 

Her knuckles softly grazed along the stubble covered skin of his cheek as she raised her hand to the side of his head, her nails lightly scraping against his buzzed hair before her fingers began to slowly circle over his temple. It was the simplest of motions, but it was the most sedative thing Rex had ever felt.

Was it some Jedi trick she would play on him, or were her hands that calming on their own; Rex never deigned to ask. He just welcomed her soft touch, succumbed to the way it soothed his restless mind. All he knew was that any night Talia performed this simple motion with her fingers against his scalp, Rex slept dreamlessly and calmly, waking up more restful than he would think was possible the night before, with Talia in his arms.

--

IA Taglist -

@djarrex @justanothersadperson93 @paige6768 @saltywintersoldat @clonecyaree @dinner-djarin @whore4rex @swlover2187 @collectoroffics @pinkiemme @twistedstitcher27 @frietiemeloen @a-c-lee @ashotofspotchka @galacticgraffiti @itsagrimm @rexandechosandwich @immortalhdx @lady--kenobi @stankferrik @aquaamethyst96 @mavendeb @alwayssnivellus @rain-on-kamino @staryskyforever @amyroswell @lucyysthings @manqoz @ilikemymendarkandfictional @punkpirate82 @paperplanes221 @saturnsokas @starstofillmydream @wild-karrde @purgetrooperfox @sleepingsun501 @burningfieldof-clover @seriowan @samspenandsword @sunshinesdaydream @babygirlrex0504

[magiklmind]

In the depths of solitude, where silence echoes loudest, the spirit of resilience blooms.

You are a warrior, navigating through survival mode with courage and grace. Remember, even in the fiercest battles, the strength to endure lies within you.

Embrace your journey, for it is molding you into a force that will conquer any storm. You are not alone; you are a beacon of hope, inspiring others with your unwavering spirit. 🌟💪

#warrior #survivalmode #inspiration #motivation

[wonnwoom]

Carat's Heartthrober, Wonwoo

Jeon Wonwoo, the quiet heart of SEVENTEEN, is a man of subtle contrasts. His presence is like a shadow in a room filled with light, ever so present yet rarely demanding attention. Born on July 17, 1996, in the bustling city of Changwon, his journey into the world of music was marked by an unwavering determination that hid behind a gentle demeanor.

From his early days, Wonwoo was a boy who kept to himself, finding solace in the worlds of books and melodies. His deep voice, often drenched in sorrowful beauty, seemed to carry the weight of unspoken words. As a rapper, he doesn't just speak; he whispers the quiet longing of unexpressed thoughts, of dreams that never quite reach the light of day.

A member of SEVENTEEN’s Hip-Hop Unit, Wonwoo’s raps have a certain melancholy to them, like pages from a half-written diary — raw, introspective, and filled with unfiltered emotions. His eyes, often downcast, tell stories of nights spent alone in thought, searching for meaning in the chaos of life. While others might wear their emotions on their sleeves, Wonwoo lets his silence speak louder than words ever could.

Through the years, he’s become the anchor of SEVENTEEN, grounding the group with his quiet strength. Yet beneath the composed exterior, a storm brews—a constant yearning to be understood, to be seen not just for his talent, but for the silent battles he fights within. His presence in SEVENTEEN is that of a poet lost in the noise of the world, forever yearning for peace, for a quiet place where his soul can simply rest.

In the end, Wonwoo is more than just a performer; he is a reflection of the quiet yearning in all of us—an embodiment of the beauty found in solitude, in the stillness where the heart speaks loudest.

[sunwinsite0]

Solo Retreat

A solo retreat surrounded by the serene beauty of Skåne, in Sweden, is transformational, peaceful and rejuvenating. This is the perfect escape from busyness, a chance to connect with who you really are and rediscover your purpose.

Welcome to a Yogi Living Solo Retreat : a week of absolute silence, where the loudest sound you hear is the whisper of your own inner voice. No emails, no social media notifications—just you and your thoughts. It’s like a spa for your mind, but with fewer cucumbers.

In a world where being busy is a badge of honor, a Solo Yoga Retreat is your chance to hit the pause button and rediscover the simple joy of being. You will emerge with not just an appreciation for silence but also a clarity and inner peace that is as refreshing as the sea breeze.

So, if you’re ready to trade in your daily chaos for some tranquil solitude, a solo retreat might just be your ticket to a happier, more centered you.