#two eclipses cross US
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brojames-glorytogodvideos · 8 months ago
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Sign from Heaven? Two Great American Eclipses Mark "X" Across USA
April the 8th, a total eclipse will cross the United States moving from south to north, from Texas to Maine - almost seven years after another total eclipse crossed the USA in 2017 going from west to east, from Oregon all the way across the country to South Carolina. That 2017 eclipse was the first path of totality to cross America from coast to coast since 1918, almost a century before, 99 years before. So a total eclipse is very rare, and yet here we have two total eclipses marking a large "X" across the United States in less than seven years. Is this a sign from Heaven? Jesus said in the last days, "Great signs shall there be from Heaven. There shall be signs in the sun, and in the moon, and in the stars." Luke 21:11 & 25 - For centuries people have considered eclipses to be momentous in some way. In these two very rare eclipses crisscrossing each other - Is Almighty God drawing a dark mark of judgment across the heart of America from top to bottom and from coast to coast?
Website GloryToGodVideos.com
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semina-art · 10 months ago
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My Tomarry | Harrymort fic recs
⭐ My Preciousss
A Dangerous Game by @cybrid
A Future Without a Face by @dividawrites
And the living will envy the dead by @k-s-morgan
Consuming Shadows by @childotkw
Death of Today by @epic-solemnity
Diagnosis by MaidenMotherCrone
Either must die at the hand of the other by @metalomagnetic
In Willing Sacrifice by @hikarimeroperiddle
love is touching souls (surely you touched mine) by @toast-ranger-to-a-stranger
Mi Aedijekit by @kitastrophea
No Glory by @obsidianpen
Vicious Circle by Bakuko
What He Grows to Be by @k-s-morgan
⚡ Extremely good
(never) let me go by @perhaps-sunlight
A light that never goes out by @kippipies
A Simple Request by @shyinsunlight
Counting bodies like sheep by rightonthelimit
dawn of a death of a dream by @cindle-writes
draw me after you (let us run) by @toast-ranger-to-a-stranger
equals in life (partners in death) by @reggieblk
Exquisitely by @obsidianpen
Full Circle by tetsurashian
Growing pains by @whisprchrysalis
Haunted and Hunted series by @obsidianpen
Heir Apparent by @monsieurclavier
In this Last of Meeting Places by redbadger
Inevitabilities by @shadow-of-the-eclipse
Kudosed, Bookmarked, Subscribed by @maquira713
Let’s Cross Over by @whisprchrysalis
No heroes by @redhowler
One More Day by Bakuko
Past’s Player by The Fictionist
Seeing Sand by @valkyrie-chemist
Surface Pressure by handsonmyheart
Terrible, But Great by @isalisewrites
The Sense of Self by SpitFire97
The Train to Nowhere by MayMarlow
The two hundred and twelfth loop by Bakuko
The Weight of Gravity by @pagesinmylife
Too old to be this young by Nadia_Castillo
We still have time by @duplicitywrites
HONOURABLE MENTION:
Peremo (Hermione Granger/Tom Riddle) by @virennias - not Tomarry, but I really love this fic.
Many thanks to these talented authors for their works. You inspire me so much! ❤️ I love every fic from this list! Sorry if you are the author and I forgot to tag you, please write a comment here, I might have missed your Tumblr account! I update this list from time to time, add or remove some works, you can check it every few months if you're interested. UPDATED: 08.08.2024
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whirlybirbs · 7 months ago
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BEYOND THE VOID — !
1. THE BEGINNING OF THE END.
( MASTERPOST   |   AO3  |    SPOTIFY ) summary: torn from time yet again, it's thursday. six months pass. while you grapple with a newfound uncanny ability to premeditate, loki grapples with the fact he's slipping back into his old self without you. enter brad wolfe. now playing:  a whole lots gonna change by weyes blood word count: 3.3k pairing: loki / f!reader, established in from the void, with love tags: enemies to friends to lovers, soulmates, we-are-in-love-in-the-future but how did that even happen, angst & comfort, redemption arc, lots of time travel, loki season 2 (2020) spoilers a/n: finally, they return in "beyond the void". i can't thank everyone enough for the unending enthusiasm for this little project of mine. it's fitting to have the first chapter release with an eclipse. this is for all of you :) the beautiful gif for this chapter is from this set by @tomshiddles.
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"Okay."
"Okay."
There's a long stretch of silence between Darcy Lewis and Jane Foster. 
In the liminal stretch of the apartment building's hall, there's little sound except the loud drone of some horribly, desperately sad song beyond the door of Unit 1131. The two women share a long look with one another, and then Darcy gestures urgently to the door.
"Go ahead," she nudges her colleague. 
"What?" Jane asks in a harsh whisper, "No, you knock." 
"You were the one that said we needed to do an intervention—" Darcy argues back in an equally low tone.
"Oh, so now this is on me?" Jane fires back, "She's our friend—"
"Our friend who has been babbling nonsense about things that have not happened and has been seriously obsessing with that Low-key dude—" Darcy rushes out, bringing her face closer to Jane's, "I don't even know what we're walking into here!"
Jane inhales. She pinches her brow. With a long rub of her face, she exhales. Then, she knocks.
She gives Darcy a 'happy?' look before stepping back and crossing her arms.
Almost immediately, the music stops. There's the sound of a shuffle. A meow. And then, the door opens only wide enough that one exhausted eye can peak through the chained gap.
"Heeeeeeeeeey, girl!" Darcy chides, waggling her hands in the air, "Surprise!"
On the other side of the door, your heart clenches. 
It feels a little bit like a cruel joke, y'know?
All that wishing, begging, clawing to go home and — well... you are. You're home. You've been home. For six months, you've been home in New York City. You're back in that little studio apartment, with Sigurd, with your research, with your doctorate. 
ALL I WANT  TO DO IS  GO HOME.
You try your best to give both Darcy and Jane a smile, but it comes out mangled and exhausted and not quite right. You've been crying. Sort of par for the course these days.
"Oh, uh... Hi guys."
Sigurd meows.
"You got a sec?" Jane asks, raising a folder in her hands, "We, uh... Erik gave us some new anomaly data to look over and we figured... you're the one for the job! Y'know? It's... kinda... your thing... have you been crying?"
Your eyes dart between them both. You wet your lips.
"No. Nooo, no. It's..." your mouth hangs open as you search for a reason, "...Allergies."
There's a beat of embarrassing silence, and then Darcy moves fast as lightning. She wriggles her arm through the gap and unlocks the chain — almost as if this is definitely something she's mastered before — before pushing her way through the doorway of your apartment. Jane follows close behind, and Sigard squawks as he scurries away from underfoot. 
The infiltration is almost immediately regretted because... woah. 
Like, big woah.
Darcy has seen crazy. Like, she has an Uncle on her Dad's side who is totally in on the whole "they're coming for our thoughts" thing and does not leave the house without at least six layers of Great Value tinfoil stuffed under his baseball cap. She knows crazy. She works for Erik Selvig. 
But this?
This is, like, soooooo above her pay grade. 
Jane's jaw is slack. The folder is immediately forgotten on the kitchen island in favor of the wall-to-wall documentation of... whatever the hell this was. 
LOKI MISSING? in the center of it all, with string and equations and runes and news articles and tabloid pages. There's an alarming amount of photos of the God in question pinned up beside ramblings on... Time? And... Quantum mechanics...? 
There's another loooooong stretch of silence. And then, Darcy and Jane both turn slowly to look at you pressed against the door.
You swallow.
Your face is set in horror.
"It's not what it looks like—"
"Uh, dude, it totally is what it looks like—" Darcy starts, stepping closer to the board and pointing a black, manicured finger at a paparazzi photo of Loki being carted off from the now-Avengers Tower, "What's with all the Loki paraphernalia?! Need I post a lil' throwback Thursday to when he tried to kill us all?"
IT'S THURSDAY AGAIN.
You wince. "You wouldn't understand—"
Then, it happens.
The same thing you've experienced dozens upon dozens of times these last six months happens again: A rush of chatter in your mind, a cacophony of whispers that claw at your thoughts and flood them with has-beens and will-be's. A million things all at once, a little bit of everything from all of time, and then— one thread. One thread that stands out against them all. 
"Jane, don't."
Across the room, Jane's fingers pause on the contact number for that pretty S.H.I.E.L.D. agent they've met once or twice now — the one who is managing the Asgardian anomaly cases. With Loki missing, S.H.I.E.L.D. has been desperate to track him down. If this is a lead... If you know where he is...
Jane's face freezes.
Her brows knit.
Your face is split in panic. "I know you think calling Agent Hill is the right thing to do, but—"
"...How did you know I was...?" Jane's voice falls off, her eyes searching your face.
Your voice splinters as you step forward. "If you call Agent Hill, she is going to section our entire division within the week. Thor will be exiled from Earth on conspiracy four days later. We will sit in a cell for five years until they decide we have nothing to do with Loki's disappearance from Asgard."
Darcy's eyes bounce between you and Jane.
"Why are you saying all that like you know it's going to happen?" Jane asks slowly, putting her phone down and closing the gap between you. "Doc, what's going on?"
Your eyes flicker with fear. 
And then exhaustion. The walls you've built to keep this away from the others crumble with one worried look from Darcy, and you crumple against the kitchen counter. 
Your voice is far away.
"It all started that Thursday."
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You thought it would be better now that someone knows. 
Truth be told it might be more trouble than it's worth if not to soothe the burden of secrecy — because Darcy keeps treating you like a Magic 8 Ball that, when shaken, is going to spit out readings on the future. 
It isn't that easy. I mean, if it was, you would have definitely done everything in your power to avoid the commute traffic this morning. 
You don't know why it happens. Or how. You have a theory it has something to do with Alioth, but... without any sort of control, there's no way of knowing. All you know is that in those moments, you're presented with a weave of potential sequences. And in those moments, you can choose to act. Or not. 
So far, acting seems to be the best course of action. 
But, yea, no. No fortune-cookie-level stuff. No crystal ball, no tarot cards. Just... weird time-whispers. And a migraine that seems to never go away. And dreams. Really vivid dreams. Dreams that happen? And dreams that don't.
If it was a horoscope sort of thing, maybe you wouldn't have missed your morning bus after waiting in line at that coffee shop three blocks down. They always make your coffee a little too bitter, but the girl behind the counter is an NYU grad student you recognized from a mechanical engineering lecture you sat in on three months ago. You've got a soft spot for her. She's always nice to that guy in the baseball cap who seems unhoused. 
You hope it all works out for her in the end. 
But, Christ this coffee is bitter. 
You buzz into Stark Labs at 9:37 am, and you're setting your stuff down at R&D by 9:43 am. 
Bruce Banner looks up briefly from his work to slide you a welcoming smile. You return it gently as you settle down on your stool and reacclimate yourself to last week's work. 
Mondays, man.
Tony is, as always, later than anyone else. His entrance is followed by the usual boisterous chatter meant as a morale booster. More often than not it's a genius-level comedy routine built on absolutely torturing Dr. Banner. You opt, more often than not, to refuse to enable the bad behavior. 
Any laughter is buried deep into these readings from the Tesseract. 
And so this has been home for the last four months. 
Avengers Tower. R&D. Erik Selvig's Research Team. Theoretical Physics and Quantum Mechanics. Day in, day out.
No TVA, no TemPads, no Sylvie, no Mobius, no Capybaras. 
...No Loki.
But, plenty of whispers. 
It rocks you out of your focus, iced latte halfway to your lips as you're rooted in this little pocket of voices and threads and whisps of time. There's a thousand, then a hundred, then one. 
Your voice is soft.
"Bruce, try the equation again."
From across the room, Tony's voice dies down and Bruce's eyes rise to meet yours. He points to himself, with a questioning raise of the brows.
You nod, then continue to take a sip of your coffee.
And so Bruce does. Wordlessly. And, after a minute, he looks up with a grin.
"So it was right."
"Woulda never known if Iron Dick over here didn't shut up for one second."
Tony's grin is bigger than Bruce's as he meanders over to your lab table and throws an arm around your shoulder. He squeezes you gently. You avoid his eye contact — and in doing so, you miss the momentary grace of concern. 
(Tony has known you for a few months now. He knows you adequately enough to gauge that your triple-shot espresso should have been a sextuple. The bags beneath your eyes are dark. There's an edge there. Something jumpy. You're exhausted.)
"Now, that was mean."
"You're torturing him," you fire back lightly, non-the-wiser to his scrutiny. 
"It's called exposure therapy—" Tony croons, leaning back and thumbing through some of the notes on your desk. You allow it. 
Good. Still sharp. Still better than anyone else at what you do. 
"Exposure to workplace terrorism?" You rib back with one cocked brow, "No offense, Bruce, but I like you better not green. Okay, Tony?"
"None taken!" Dr. Banner calls lightly from across the room. He's working on the second part of that equation now. 
"Sure, sure, alright, Doc," Tony heads your words, raising both hands and stepping back, "I guess someone hates fun."
"Absolutely," you say blankly, chewing your straw; you point at him, "No laughter."
"None," Tony waggles a finger.
"Not a peep," you remark causally as you spin in your stool and snag your pen from the drawer behind you. 
"Any news on the other green guy we hate?" Bruce asks slowly, eyes bouncing between you and Stark. 
Your blood goes a little cold. Just like always. It's hard not to react — especially when that other green guy is all you think about day and night.
WHEN YOU LOSE HIM YOU WILL DO ANYTHING TO GET HIM BACK. 
You wordlessly shake your head. You shrug. Bruce turns to Stark. Tony is hunched over his bench. His words are a bit muffled by the soldering project he's turned his attention to. 
"None. According to Thor he just up and poofed. He was in the middle of atoning before the Buckingham of Asgard and... just warped on out."
So you've heard.
"Hill has been working every lead she can but... the Asgardians are a little touchy-feely on the whole 'earthlings in the domain of the Gods' thing."
"Understandable," you mutter absently.
Tony sits up. "Only time will tell."
...Indeed.
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Home.
Unit 1131. 
Lonely.
It wasn't before all this... It was full to the brim with contentment. It was comfort, it was bliss. It was indulgent mornings slept beneath the covers and bright music in the kitchen. Cheap wine from the liquor shop on the corner and homemade meals. It was "I finally made it". 
Now, it's none of that.
Because he's out there — and you know that you don't belong here anymore.
You drop your bag by the door. 
Your boots follow in a trail. 
Sigurd mews expectantly, and you scoop him wordlessly into your arms as you weave through the chaos of papers and books. Your carpet is hidden beneath a layer of obsession masquerading as research.
But, there's one thing that pulls you back in each time.
It's that photo. 
The one Darcy had pointed at earlier.
Loki is being carted off from the now-Avengers Tower. He's looking back at something, and his expression is broken.
It's you.
You know he's pleading with Thor at that moment through a muzzle, desperate to call your name. He's looking at you, being whisked away by S.H.I.E.L.D. as they clear the area, and your voice is silenced by grief. 
You wish you had called out to him then — told him you'd find him again. 
Regret is a hell of a thing.
Grief, too. 
How do you mourn something you never really had? Not here, not in this timeline. 
So you stand there, in the dim lights of your apartment, staring at the photo. And you cry. Just like every night, for the last six months.
In your desk, that magical little daisy made of grass waits.
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If they find Sylvie, they find you.
That's the mission.
Mobius M. Mobius thinks it's funny — back then, man if only he would have known that lil' hunch of his was right. Maybe a part of him did. And... Now? Things are different. I mean, everything is different. The TVA is different. 
Loki is different.
They say to be loved is to be changed an' all that. 
The first thing out of Loki's mouth was your name when Mobius finally saw him again — and then a word vomit of panic, induced by the death of He Who Remains and... time-slippage as OB called it. Lotsa moving parts. Lots to keep track of. But, ultimately, they're in a better spot than they were yesterday. 
1.) Loki is no longer falling through the metaphorical cracks in time. 
2.) Mobius did not get toasted alive when standing before The Loom.
3.) He never, ever, ever has to do that again.
And now!
They're in London. 
1977, huh. Zaniac. 
If they find Sylvie, they find you.
...Unless you find him first.
Loki isn't exactly thrilled. 
No, Loki knows better than to get his hopes up. Sylvie isn't here. He already told Mobius that. It's too safe. It's a damned movie premiere. There are no radiation burns, no falling stars, and no rampant gunfire. It's too quiet. 
It's a movie premiere and you're out there, somewhere, alone. You're... you're lost. He can't protect you here. He can't protect anything. You... You're all he has and you're gone. 
And he's here, wasting his damn time. 
Brad Wolfe is about to waste more of his time. 
Loki's gaze is sharp. His strides are long, and as they approach the fray, the God stands amongst the tallest of guests. He cuts a mean profile. It's times like these that Mobius remembers he is a God.
(It's times like these that Mobius can also see the ever-increasing edge in his partner-in-time. It's a little... worrisome. But understandable. I mean, rip a God's soulmate from his hands and see what happens, right?)
"So, he's an actor now?" Loki comments off-handedly, his irritation grating his heartstrings in a way that reminds him of who he was before all this. He hates it. But, he's angry. He will get you back. Without you...
Without you, he doesn't know what he'll do.
"Or he's undercover."
As they weave, Loki's brows knot in distrust. "Looks pretty real to me."
It smells like cigarettes and perfume, and the flashbulbs bite sharply into Loki's peripherals. The raven-haired trickster winces, tucking his hands into his slacks. 
On the red carpet, X-5 moves from interview to interview. Occasionally his laughter rises above the clamor. Each time, Loki's nostrils flare and he rolls his eyes. 
It's when he reaches the end of the line that Mobius moves in. 
"Will there be a Zaniac Two?" 
The look on Brad's face says enough for Mobius to know there's more going on here than just an undercover bit. Brad's laugh, as equally pained as his smile, just cements the fact. 
"Mobius! Woah!" A clap on the shoulder, a big hug. "I used to work with this guy!"
Still a show. Still a weasel trying to survive on his little slice of time. 
"We're going to need to catch up," he begins, backing up slowly, "You know, why don't we chat after the show?"
"How about now, maybe?" Mobius counters just as Brad turns on his heel and comes face to face with Loki. 
The God sneers.
"Woah. Okay, ha, whole gangs here!" he chirps, "Isn't that... great? Wow. I mean, you look — you look great, Loki."
"Why thank you, Brad."
Brad's eyes are manic, and he's searching the crowd quickly — no doubt looking for an exit. Then, they catch something. When Brad claps his hands together and pats them on both Loki and Mobius' shoulders, the two TVA agents pause.
"Everything alright?" Loki asks, head tilting in faux concern.
"Everything is great, actually, because when I was here," he begins, words quick and anxious as he tries to weave some sort of story, "I met a mutual friend!"
"Sylvie?" Mobius asks tightly.
"No, no, uh, better—"
Loki's jaw tightens. Enough of this. "We have some mutual friends back at the TVA who would like a word, as well—"
"Doc!" calls Brad after finally finding her in the sea of people, turning on his heel and calling out over his shoulder, "I got people I need you to meet!"
And just like that, it's like Loki's whole world splits wide open again.
In the fray of photographers and journalists, in the fray of drinks and the haze of smoke, there's you. You're smiling at Brad, positively beaming. You're bright as a star and Gods, there's no one in the room when you step forward with a laugh.
Your dress is green. Your hair is different.
There's a beauty mark on your left cheek. His version of you has a scar that lies there. A mistimed gift from Sylvie before their period on Lamentis. 
"Doc, these are some of my friends from work," Brad points, his hand falling along your waist in a way that makes Loki's blood boil; the ex-TVA Hunter leans close to your cheek, "They're the real deal."
You laugh into your drink, then extend your hand to Mobius. He's trying his best to hide his growing dread. "It's a pleasure."
Mobius takes it and shakes it gently. "And how do you have the pleasure of knowing our starlet, Brad?"
Damn it. He's losing Loki in real time here.
"Doc here did all the practical effects on set for Zaniac," Brad's eyes connect with Loki's — but the God is focused on only you... Her. Until Wolfe digs in with a low murmur meant to do just what it does, "She's a real wiz with her hands."
The God's face snaps. He will kill Brad, he decides. But, then this other-you moves to offer her hand and he can't help but melt. 
His fingers are trembling when he touches her skin. 
"Have we met before?" comes the soft lilt of her voice — this Variant's eyes are brown. They search Loki's face for a shred of recognition but all that's there between the two of them is raw attraction. A law of time and space unhindered by meddling hands. No matter where, no matter when, you will find one another.
Loki's mouth is dry. Your lipstick shade is a dark rogue. He thinks about that kiss back in the Void. He's stuck there, with your hand in his, when Brad bolts.
Her face contorts in confusion. She pulls away. But, Loki lingers. 
He has to... He...
He needs you back. 
Now. 
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p1hypen · 1 year ago
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TERRIBLE TWOS — P. SUNGHOON
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SYNOPSIS! A rash decision on your end causes you and Sunghoon to break up. What you think is for the best turns out to be the complete opposite, actually. Cue two years later when a random encounter with your ex forces you to revisit past feelings that has never quite fully departed from either of you. PAIRING! Chairman!Sunghoon x Fem!Reader WC! 11.4k (Got carried away)
GENRE/CW! Exes getting back together, fluff, slight angst if you squint, smut (fingering, brief mentions of fem oral receiving, sunghoon has a 7 inch cock; i headcanon that, unprotected sex, missionary, creampie, lots of tongue kissing), swearing, reader is in denial just a tad bit, ft. non-idol!yunjin, reader is a struggling fine arts major, etc. MDNI
A/N: originally, i intended for this to be a simple one shot but it somehow turned out to be greater than that in the end lol. this was also my first attempt at writing smut; i've always wanted to try it but damn is it kinda hard. i feel like the title doesn't match or capture the story as good but whatever-- it used to be called 'seasons,' yet that didn't make sense either so... terrible twos it is! i hope you enjoy <3
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“Y/n?” 
A trace of uncertainty laces the man's voice, his mind racing with the possibility that he might have mistaken a stranger for someone from his past. Internally, he winces at the prospect of this awkward mix-up, dreading such an encounter with a random person. He clings to the hope that his intuition proves accurate.
Could it really be her? Amid the bustling crowd, she always managed to stand out, an unmistakable aura surrounding her. Her presence eclipsed even the most vibrant of settings, radiating a unique energy that outshone a field of flowers.
When he tentatively calls out her name in a hushed tone, she spins around on her heel, and for an ephemeral moment, Sunghoon feels as though he's stepped into a scene from a classic romance film.
Time stills and so does he. 
Each of your movements steals his breath away. The way your hair dances in harmony with the wind, and how your eyelashes cast the most delicate shadow upon your high cheekbones. Your gradual unveiling leaves him struggling to swallow past an inexplicable lump in his throat. 
Sunghoon notices the moment your eyes widen. Behind those enchanting orbs, he discerns a flicker of nostalgia and a touch of melancholy. During your time together, he had the uncanny ability to read those emotions hidden within the depths of your eyes.
“Sunghoon…” You say no louder than a mere whisper that could easily get lost in the summer’s wind that passes through the both of you. 
Your heart throbs in your chest. The biological response is far too overwhelming that you can feel your stomach tying itself in double knots. You think you might need to be pointed to the nearest bathroom so you can barf up the swarm of butterflies that disturb your system. No doubt, does crossing paths with an ex whom you share a long history with manage to do that to you. 
“H-how are you?” You’re the first to strike up a conversation despite that being Sunghoon’s unspoken responsibility. 
How am I? Sunghoon has to brace himself to collect his messy thoughts. 
“I’m pretty good, and yourself?”
His response is curt and short. In any other setting, he would have elaborated on his answer but he wasn’t sure how much information was too much to reveal to an ex regarding the state of his well-being. You nod at his words, not really expecting much nor having high hopes that he would give you more to work with in this conversation of playing catch-up between an ex. 
See, your relationship ended amicably, with both of you acknowledging that the spark kindled between you two had faded out. With your mind elsewhere, too focused on your academics (so you like to say), and Sunghoon preparing to inherit his family’s business, there was little room for romance in either of your daily routines. Your typical weekend dates were swapped out for meetings with major corporations and other soon-to-be-chairman-related activities so that he could fully understand what the rest of his future held for him. 
Even though you missed having your boyfriend's undivided attention, you refused to act as a temporary roadblock that prevented him from making significant progress. Despite your heart and brain being at war with each other, you made the conscious decision to slowly back down from being his lover and tucked your face in the pages of your academic textbooks.
With Sunghoon too busy to even acknowledge that his girlfriend was distancing herself from him, you were the first to come forward, bearing the news that breaking up would be the optimal solution to your and his fading presence in one another’s lives. 
That night when you bid goodbye, he felt half his heart shatter inside of him. Little did you know that you carried the other part wherever you went, but now that you were no longer capable of sheltering that missing piece, it almost made him want to die inside more than just a tad bit— a lot, actually.
He pretended to play it cool as your back turned to him and he watched you retreat to your car, feeling both helpless and defeated. With an unflinching countenance, a tightly clenched jaw, and fingers gripped at his sides, Sunghoon longed for his feet to have chased after you, preventing your departure from his life. He yearned to undo whatever had driven you away, to rewrite his mistakes and reshape your shared history.
Sadly, not even the first star in the sky he saw at night could grant him something as demanding as that.
On the contrary, had those things happened, he wouldn’t be here today on a Thursday afternoon rekindling a connection that got tossed up in the air and fell through his fingertips.
“I—“ Before you get a chance to deliver your sentence Sunghoon’s hold on your arm prompts him to draw you to his chest. 
Your breath hitches in the back of your throat, eyes simultaneously widening for the second time thanks to a certain ex. You look up at the taller one with crinkled brows. A mixture of confusion and a looming feeling in the deepest pit of your stomach that hasn’t quite left, tugging at your heartstrings. His intoxicating scent of Dior Sauvage is all too overwhelming for your nose to take in. You swear your head could start spinning any minute now. 
He’s so close to you. You’re so close to him. If someone were to come by and accidentally bump into you, you would be pressed up against his chest, breaking what limited distance is keeping you two apart. 
A bike rider disrupting pedestrian traffic on the sidewalk whizzes by, obnoxiously ringing the bell attached to their handlebar as if they aren’t to be blamed for riding on the concrete pavement, and it’s only then do you realize that Sunghoon was protecting you from getting hit. His body relaxes once he declares that it’s safe for you to comfortably stand in the open from any oncoming obstructions. 
“Sorry… acted on impulse.” His grasp on you immediately retreats to the inside of his pant pockets and you swear that his touch leaves a ghosting sensation on your skin. 
Sunghoon refuses to meet your lingering gaze, eyes averting to some random couple walking their dog across the street from where the two of you are standing. It’s almost funny how he fully believed two years ago that one day both of you would be exactly like that: dog owners who take their beloved fur baby on walks together and enjoy the simplicity of the little things that a relationship has to offer. 
“It’s okay, thank you,” You murmur, unsure of where things should go from here. 
A beat of silence comes and goes before Sunghoon has the chance to take the initiative to prove he’s different from his past self. 
The past self you witnessed throughout the duration of your shared romanticism. The past self who failed to convince you to stay because he never wanted you to leave his side. What he wanted was to work things out and to understand what he could do to change and make things better for the two of you.
Even if that meant you breaking up with him first to realize this.
“Listen, why don’t we…” He suddenly starts. Sunghoon analyzes your face and when your features evidently show that you’re all ears for what he has to say, he takes a deep breath to compose himself. “Get dinner. Together.“ 
Although the question comes out more like a demand rather than a request, you’re slightly taken aback because you were almost certain Sunghoon probably resents you for the breakup— at least that’s what you tell yourself— and that he doesn’t want any business involving you entering his life for a repeat performance. The only different thing is that you’re his ex.
Can you blame him? It was so sudden.
The concealed hurt he tried to mask but failed to do so when you told him you wanted to end things, hoping it’d be left on good terms, rambling about how much you do and will continue to care for him no matter what he does in life or who he chooses to love after you. It seems you did more talking than he got the chance to, and Sunghoon wasn’t sure if you had this all planned leading up to that moment, or if he should’ve seen it coming. 
Whatever it was, Sunghoon could never hate or repent you, but you’re no telepathic mind-reader and wouldn’t know how he feels about you now unless you asked. 
Your bottom lip is caught between your teeth as you ponder the idea of sitting in a fancy restaurant with Sunghoon and sharing a long conversation over an expensive meal that is highly overpriced for its ridiculously small portions. 
“On one condition,” You quip. Sunghoon gestures for you to keep going and you clear your throat. “No five-star Michelin places, okay? I just want a simple dinner to make up for lost time.” 
The older male chuckles, nodding his head sensibly. If there’s one thing Sunghoon learned about you is that you were never hard to please and preferred the opposite of a high-end luxury lifestyle that he naturally grew up with. 
“Tomorrow. I’ll pick you up at 8, how’s that sound?” 
“That’s perfect but um—“ you purse your lips. “Do you… Do you still remember where I live?” 
“Of course. It would take a lot more than time and distance apart from each other, for me to forget your every being.”
Sunghoon leans in to tuck a stray strand of hair behind your ear. The underlying intimacy hiding beneath his actions has you contemplating what the course of your relationship would have looked like for the two of you, had you not broken up with a man as sweet and thoughtful as him.
Was calling it quits between you two a mistake? Should you have stuck it out just a little longer? 
You can only shove those thoughts to the farthest point in the back of your mind and recenter your focus to the handsome ravenette. 
Sunghoon, sporting a warm grin that gradually grows into a pearly white showcase of his perfect teeth and adorable canines, makes it worth marveling if second chances are a thing that people still stand by. 
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The next evening, Sunghoon unexpectedly arrived at your front door 20 minutes ahead of your readiness. While you were trying to situate yourself into your cami dress that paired well with the current season, a knocking sound coming from the entrance to your studio unit startled you in its wake. You tapped on the screen of your phone to check the time and crinkled your nose when the numbers staring back at you read 7:40. 
Sunghoon’s habit of arriving for an occasion earlier than expected was not unusual for his character. The taller's mannerisms crept into other facets of his social life after years of being trained to believe that "early is on time" and "on time is late." However, 20 minutes ahead of schedule was definitely new to you, and part of you can’t help but think if this is stemming from anxiety or if that’s just you projecting your nerves onto his much early arrival. 
“Just a sec!” You struggled to reach for the zipper to your dress, stress-sweating due to the pressure of having to rush through the rest of your routine.
After what felt like a millennia you finally managed to seal yourself shut into your attire and scurried to the front door where poor Sunghoon was waiting for you to answer.
“I’m so sorry, I couldn’t get to the zipper of my dress and I don’t think me flashing you or my neighbors in semi-public is socially acceptable.” You awkwardly laugh, strands of hair sticking to the back of your neck and forehead from the accumulated sweat you managed to produce. 
Sunghoon chuckles, shaking his head at your guilty tendency to overshare too much information for the dramatics.
“No worries. I know I showed up earlier than expected. Don’t worry about me, do what you need to do.” He smiles softly and for a second it almost slips your mind that you’re no longer romantically involved with each other. 
Oh, how you wish you could leap at him and smother the dashing man with kisses all over his Greek god-like, beautiful face…
“Here,” The taller unveils a bouquet of flowers that he attempted (underline, attempted) to hide behind his back. In reality, you could already see bits of it peeking out but chose to play coy about the item he was holding back from giving you. 
You fawn at the striking arrangement of tulips that come in different shades of the prettiest of pinks. Tulips. Of course, he would remember that those are your favorite. His words from yesterday ring in your ears, and believing them, you truly start to confide that Sunghoon could never boot you out of his memory as easy as a snap of his fingers.
“The prettiest bunch of flowers for the prettiest girl.” Sunghoon cautiously says, unsure if that would be stepping a line. To be fair, there isn’t an official handbook on what you should or shouldn’t say to an ex— except for some of the more common phrases; whatever that may be.
You let out a lighthearted laugh at the bold, yet cheesy, compliment and invited Sunghoon into the safe haven of your apartment, ignoring the way your heart practically skipped a beat when he said that. 
He’s been here on plentiful occasions so he’s really no stranger to the arrangement of your flat and could probably draw out an entire floor plan if he wanted to. At one point he almost committed to the thought of moving in with you, but you were a firm believer that it would be best if he stuck to the minimalist mansion he decorated himself; it was passed down to him from none other than his father. Needless to say, Sunghoon was a pouty puppy that day.
“I’m almost ready I promise.” You say. “I just need to add some finishing touches and then I’m all yours for the night.” Immediately your hands fly to your mouth when realization dawns on you about the delivery of your words. 
Sunghoon raises an eyebrow, and luckily, you miss the faint smirk that tugs at the corner of his plump lips teasingly.
“You know what I mean!” You panic, waving off the metaphorical atmosphere that surrounds both of you.
You excuse yourself and escape to your room as the tips of your ears start to flush with embarrassment.
Once the door leading to your bedroom shuts behind you with a mellow thud, your back presses up against the surface of the entryway. A loud sigh that you weren't even aware you were repressing since Sunghoon arrived breaks out past your tinted lips. With your mind a foggy mess and your heart threatening to leap right out of your chest, you’re under the impression that you resemble the stereotypical anime school girl the way your entire demeanor changes when you’re around him. 
But that’s the thing.
It’s only Sunghoon. 
It’s just Sunghoon.
So what if you guys dated in high school and partially during college? So what if he was the first and only guy you’ve been with, and even though you have no one to compare him to, he would still be the best ex you could ever have? So what if you regret breaking up with him because you got ahead of yourself and refused to be transparent with him? 
So what if you want him back…
You pat both sides of your cheeks to wake yourself from a philosophical dilemma. you refuse to go down a rabbit hole of emotions especially when you’re about to go out to dinner. 
You shuffle through your wardrobe in search of a certain pair of Converse that a special someone gave to you as a birthday gift. When you find it neatly stored away in its original packaging and the box that it came in you’re almost too eager to slip your feet into the collar of the Chuck Taylor’s.
You halt in your steps when you reach your vanity and grab your everyday bottle of perfume, spritzing one pump, then two, then three, and four more of the floral scent, that you’re showering yourself in it at this point.
When you've deemed that you’re completely ready and satisfied with your appearance for the evening, you exit the inviting comfort of your cozy chambers. Sunghoon’s back is facing you as you ascend into the living room. You can’t make out much of what he’s doing and he’s seemingly too preoccupied to notice your footsteps stalk across the wooden paneling. His neck is craned downward looking at something on the decorative table where you have a neat arrangement of framed pictures. 
“You still have this?” He turns around revealing the photograph that he was referring to, now in his possession. There’s a distant glimmer of emotion that you can’t quite make out peeking around the curves of his irises. 
You let out a resigned sigh. 
You’ve been caught red-handed for leaving a single trace of the past out in the open. 
Of all the furniture and miscellaneous objects that collect dust on different surfaces in your flat, Sunghoon chose to go for the photograph of you and him standing under a cherry blossom tree in Ilsan Park. Your arm was hooked around his waist and his was wrapped around your shoulder. The brightest of smiles stretched across your faces as petals danced around you. It was the perfect moment captured in stillness and you wish you could leap through pictures to relive that special day. A distant memory that feels like it happened not too long ago.
“I couldn’t get rid of it. It’s— That’s one of my favorite pictures of us.” You simply explain. 
It was true, because out of all of the selfies, candid photos, and other pictures you shared together with Sunghoon, your date to Ilsan Park remained your number one core memory as a couple. 
You watch intently as Sunghoon places the photo back where it originally belonged on the console.
“I think that’s one of my favorites, too.” He says as a matter of fact. “That or the one where we went to Lotte World and wore matching uniforms together.” The taller laughs.
You giggled, the recollection of your amusement park date flashing across your mind. You dragged him to go on each and every attraction with you as he stumbled in your tracks, struggling to keep up with your social battery. You felt like two high schoolers in love at the ripe age of 20 because being with Sunghoon gave you the impression that you were your 15-year-old self again. 
“I like that one as well! I thought I looked pretty cute in that uniform.” You grin sheepishly.
Sunghoon chuckles and it causes you to whip your head to survey him. His eyes crinkle before they’re no longer crescent and back to their original doe-eyed shape. 
“You’re still cute, y’know that?” 
The comment sends your heart ablaze along with the blood that rushes to the surface of your cheeks. You can only hope that the thin layer of makeup and blush you applied is strong enough to camouflage the effect that sunghoon has on you. It’s no secret that he was always a smooth talker and still is. It makes you wonder if he’s ever used that flirtatious skill on other women he’s come across after you— or if he has. 
You tut your tongue at him and reach for your crossbody purse draped on the couch that you lazily tossed aside yesterday after coming home. 
“Ready, m’lady?” Sunghoon twists the knob and pushes the front door open, supporting the weight with his broad frame to keep it from closing in on you two when you exit. 
“Wait!” You pip, halting in your steps. You briskly retreat to your room and grab the bouquet of tulips you left on the side table next to your bed. 
You scurry over to Sunghoon, cradling the arrangement of florals like it was your baby. The haired boy opens his mouth to say something but you’re too fast to retort, 
“I wanna show it off. They’re too pretty to be left at home.” 
He nods and motions his hand for you to leave the unit first. The taller gives himself a mental pat on the back for inquiring in a floral shop before coming to retrieve you for dinner.
Tulips are a girl’s best friend, after all. For you, at least.
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Coincidentally dinner happens to occur at the one restaurant you frequently visited when you and Sunghoon were dating. It was a simple ma and pa spot only locals in the area knew of. They were popularly known for their cold noodles and ginseng chicken soup. You like to think of it as a secret only two of you know about and continue to gatekeep it from your friends or families from ever coming across of it. 
The owners grew familiar with both of you through your frequent visits and friendly conversations. your rapport with them resulted in a warm welcome every time you returned, often accompanied by a generous discount as a token of their appreciation. Since your last visit to their restaurant, a while has gone by, and you both have been overdue to make an appearance at the restaurant.
“Aigoo, Sunghoon-ah, it’s been so long!” Mrs. Kim exclaims, wearing the biggest and brightest smile that brings out the crinkles in her complexion when she notices two familiar faces. “And Y/n, it’s good to see you too!” She turns to you with the same mien still permanently plastered on her face. 
You bow your head. Her contagious smile has you mirroring her grin. 
“Come, come, sit.” She waves her hand for the two of you to follow in her trail as she leads both of you to your— undesignated but designated— table that you and Sunghoon would constantly sit at.
Before you even have a chance to pull out your chair, Sunghoon beats you to it with surprising swiftness. The aged wood scrapes gently against the floor as he courteously pulls the chair back for you. A warm smile tugs at your lips as you appreciate this chivalrous gesture, unable to contain a soft giggle of delight. 
Mrs. Kim watches the interaction between the two of you and smirks, completely out of the loop that you have broken up; still under the assumption that you’re both dating to this day. Who could blame her when in her eyes you were the perfect missing piece for one another in this world like you were made for each other from the start. 
“The usual?” She asks despite already knowing the answer to her question. 
“Yes please,” Sunghoon nods.
He sits after folding his blazer in half so that it can rest neatly on the chair's backrest. To add some fuel to the flame, he unbuttons the cuffs to his long sleeves and rolls them past his forearms so that they stop an inch below his elbows. The expensive watch that rests snugly on his wrist glistens, almost blinding you. You’re reminded that the man sitting across from you is responsible for an entire company under his name and capable of powerful things.
You gulp. You feel like you’re watching something you shouldn’t be and instead take an interest in the condiments that are pushed to the side of your table. 
Soy sauce, vinegar, napkins… 
When you think that you’re ready to re-center your attention onto Sunghoon once your racing heart has calmed down from its high, the taller has his eyes closed as he combs his fingers through his hair. His lips are parted ever so slightly and there’s a shine to his plush tiers.
He has to be doing this on purpose now.
You watch the way his Adam apple bobs when he swallows and you swear it should be a sin to look this effortlessly good in warm overhead lighting. 
You huff, a little too audibly for the male across from you to hear and his doe eyes flutter open. The sudden eye contact catches you off guard and you’re struggling to maintain yourself from the tension your mind is projecting. You shift around in your chair trying to find a more comfortable position.
This is going to be a long dinner.
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After Mrs. Kim returned with your delectable dishes, the food vanished quickly as you guys delved into stories and shared the exciting highlights of your respective journeys. You and Sunghoon spent the rest of your meal at the table reminiscing about the past two years including the many ups and downs you’ve dealt with.
You learned that a month after your breakup, Sunghoon’s father officially stepped down, handing over the reins of the company to his son as the new successor. The ravenette confided in you, revealing that even though he had been groomed for this role his whole life, the transition wasn't as smooth as he had envisioned. The weight of responsibility felt overwhelming. Taking charge of a major company brought with it a level of pressure he had never experienced before. The expectations were high, both from the company's board and the employees who had known him since he was young.
As he grappled with the complexities of his new position, Sunghoon couldn't help but reminisce about a simpler life. He missed the carefree moments he used to share with you, the laughter, and the ease of his unannounced visits when he would turn up at your door with snacks he bought from the corner store and canned beer. 
Eventually his determination and drive to persevere kept him standing strong in the face of these obstacles. With his family behind him, a supportive workforce, and you in the back of his mind, he knew he had people to look back on and make them proud. 
You praised the older for his character development, gushing at his transition from uncertainty to confidence, while sympathizing with the initial troubles he first started off with. Being a chairman at his age is bound to weigh heavily on his mental and emotional health, and you can’t help but wish that you had stayed by his side through it all in order to be that support pillar he needed at immediacy.
“So, what about you? I didn’t really get to hear your answer yesterday.” Sunghoon asks.
You blinked. “Me? Well, uhm…” 
A bubble of insecurity creeps into your stomach. Your mind races through a mental checklist of your own achievements, or rather, the lack thereof, especially when compared to Sunghoon’s impressive journey. While your lives have taken very drastically different paths, you can’t shake the feeling that at the end of the day, the two of you are worlds apart from each other. He’s the chairman of a highly respected company. And you? You’re just a college graduate with a bachelor’s degree in fine arts. A pursuit that feels miles away from Sunghoon’s milestones. 
During the period that he was absent from your everyday life, all you managed to build was your art portfolio, which you eagerly sent to numerous galleries in a desperate bid to gain recognition as a struggling artist. Rejection letters became an all too familiar sight, each offering the same hollow praise— impressed but not interested. Those were dark times, where self-doubt loomed large.
Thankfully, your situation started to improve when you summoned the courage to step out of your comfort zone. You took to social media, opening art accounts on Instagram and Twitter, and sharing your artistic odyssey on TikTok. Yunjin, one of your closest friends and best friend since middle school, commissioned you to paint a mural inside a cafe she was working at. “I begged my boss for this to happen!” She said enthusiastically over the phone the night she asked you for the favor. Everything to you was a leap of faith, a glimmer of hope that prompted you to fully believe in the light at the end of every tunnel. 
In spite of your situation turning out for the better, it was impossible to ignore the inescapable sense of solitude and loneliness that clung to you like a shadow. It followed you everywhere you went. A mental reminder that, no matter how bright life was starting to seem, you still felt trapped and not completely content with yourself.
You convey these exact thoughts and feelings to Sunghoon in a messy ramble, hoping that this unintentional therapy session you’ve turned dinner into won’t scare him off. You can only hope that you’re not ruining the evening with a sob story of another art kid struggling to make a name for themselves in a society, where choosing art as a career path is at a greater disadvantage in comparison to your stronger counterparts. 
When you find yourself coming to the end of your rant, a wave of silence washes over the table, and you grab the nearest cup of water to gulp from. Ignoring the condensation that sweats around the glass and soils your palms. Your eyes look everywhere, purposefully avoiding Sunghoon and the tragic visage he’s probably giving you right about now.
“Y/n, look at me.” 
You raise your head, complying to his soft demand. 
“I’m proud of you,” he begins, and in that instant, a surge of emotion that has been suppressed for far too long wells up within you. “It takes a lot of courage and willpower to continue to follow a path you’re uncertain of.” The comment makes Sunghoon chuckle dryly, closely reminded of himself, shaking his head. “But look at you, you’re doing so great.”
The warmth in his voice, the sincerity in his eyes— they combine like a gentle storm, and suddenly, tears brim your eyes, begging to spill over. Your vision is splotchy and you refuse to blink, save for ruining your mascara. You weren’t planning on being an emotional wreck tonight, especially over dinner with your ex.
“I understand how hard it must have been dealing with those struggles alone, and I wish I was there by your side to help support you when it happened.” Sunghoon continues. He pauses to take in a breath before resuming, “But I’m here now… I’m not going anywhere, and if you’d let me— I want back into your life again, Y/n.”
A solitary tear breaks free, followed by another, and then another, until suddenly your eyes unleash a torrent of waterworks like a relentless downpour from a stormy sky. You hide your face in a handful of napkins you hastily grabbed, unaware that Sunghoon got up to move from his seat and slipped into the chair next to yours. His touch catches you off guard but you immediately relax as he guides you into his embrace, allowing you to hide yourself in his arms; your face tucked away in his chest. He caresses your hair, his slender fingers thread through your styled locks as he lulls you to comfort from your shaken state.
The two of you stay rooted in that position until you confidently and mentally reassure yourself that you are okay; you’re going to be okay. Your breathing has calmed down from its high and returned to a normal, healthy rate as your tears subsided and are non-existent.
No longer conscious of your makeup— a matter far from substantial to care for anymore— you wipe away the mess around your eyes. Black clumps of mascara and some concealer transfer onto the napkin. Seeing the stains garner a weak laugh to emit from you. Sunghoon cranes his neck to survey what you’ve become engrossed with. He sees the ruined makeup and laughs lightly into your hair. 
You’re thankful that there aren’t many customers dining in tonight and that it’s just you, Sunghoon, and three other parties who are far too busy drinking, conversing, and laughing amongst themselves to acknowledge the young couple tucked away in the corner.
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Mrs. Kim leads both you and Sunghoon out of the restaurant with a warmth akin to a grandmother bidding her grandchildren farewell, her heartfelt wish for your safe return home evident in her loving smile.
“Goodbye, Mrs. Kim. Thank you, again, for another delicious dinner.” Sunghoon bows at a 90-degree angle and the formality stirs a boisterous laugh from the frail old lady. You mimic his actions, also expressing your gratitude for the lovely meal and free dessert she served to you guys ‘on the house.’ 
“When you guys come back I better see a wedding ring on her finger, Sunghoon-ah.” Mrs. Kim scolds lightly. You almost choke on your own saliva at the remark, coughing awkwardly to cover up your bewilderment. Sunghoon does his best to maintain his composure for the sake of the elder’s oblivion.
“You guys disappear for two years and still no diamond in sight. I was hoping some big change happened!” She clicks her tongue on the roof of her mouth, crossing her arms.
Sunghoon dips his head again in an apologetic manner. “You and Mr. Kim will be the first people we come to with a wedding invitation.” 
You whack the taller’s arm giving him a what-the-fuck-are-you-talking-about look, eyebrows scrunched with perplexity. The last thing you want is to continue to feed into Mrs. Kim’s false reality that the two of you are still a couple. Who’s to say that Sunghoon isn’t actually on the same page as you and everything is just a facade? I mean, sure, he’s been flirty here and there, bought you flowers, comforted you at dinner, and practically asked you to take him back… 
Your trust in Sunghoon has clearly waned, a result of your fluctuating self-confidence that leads you to confide in the pessimistic "what ifs." Your clouded judgment and self-doubt gnaw at your thoughts, casting doubt on the possibility of a reunion between the two of you. 
Sunghoon ignores the daggers slicing at the left side of his face and the buzzing pain you inflicted on him from the harsh impact of your hand. His digits dig gently into your side, drawing you closer to him. You stumble ever so slightly and flash an unconvincing awkward smile to the old lady.
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You situate yourselves into the driver and passenger seats of his Hyundai Ioniq. You’re quiet when you pull the seat belt over your upper half, and for the first 10 minutes, not a single word was uttered from either you or the male sitting behind the wheel. Your mind loiters as you watch the building lights illuminating the dark troposphere of Seoul whizz by at 2x speed.
You and Mr. Kim will be the first people we come to with a wedding invitation.
Yeah right… You almost roll your eyes but catch yourself prolonging the idea of a hypothetical engagement and wedding ceremony with Sunghoon as your groom. 
Would he have gone down on one knee to propose to you had both of you remained lovers? 
You shake the contemplation loose from your prefrontal cortex. 
“Is it okay if I roll the window down?” You’re the first to break the ice. Sunghoon nods, his attention still focused on the road in front of him. Without looking, his fingers find the car’s air-con button to turn it off and he gives you the ‘go’ to proceed with your desire. 
The tempered glass descends and you’re immediately greeted with the beating rush of the summertime air. You giggle and rest your arms on the weatherstrip trimming of the Hyundai, your head poking out like an excited dog who’s riding in the car with its tongue hanging from its mouth. You close your eyes, taking in the wind that messes with your hair and brushes past your skin. It’s enough to transcend you into a different headspace, almost forgetting that you’re in a moving vehicle and not on some speedboat skidding across the water in Europe.
Sunghoon looks your way, unable to suppress the natural smile that lights up his face whenever he sees you. You truly are a surge of energy he needs when he wants to uplift himself if he’s feeling down. You’re his happy pill— so much so, that he wishes he could keep a chibi version of you for him to carry in the pocket square of his suits and let you rome on the wooden surface of his office desk to help him get through the work day. It’s silly and love-sickening, but Sunghoon only knows how to act a fool with you around him. 
His fingers drum against the padding of the steering wheel, waking you from your daydream. You hadn’t realized that you’ve already made it back to the city and are soon approaching your apartment complex. Your neighborhood is only a couple of turns away from your current destination as the two of you sit at a red light. You roll the window up, at least it was fun for the duration it endured. 
When he pulls up on the side of the street in front of your building, you try to find some lame excuse to stay with him for another minute longer, not wanting to say goodnight to him. You’re scared that this evening will be a one-off event and you'll return to your old ways, enveloped once more in the arms of self-isolation that consumes you completely.
Your grip on the door handle tightens. 
“Sunghoon,” you shift your view in his direction. “You don’t mind walking me to my front door, do you?” 
The male smiles with his eyes.
“Who am I to not accompany a lady when needed.” 
Sunghoon makes quick work to unbuckle himself from the driver’s seat and rounds the front of the car to open the door for you. He holds out his hand for you to take, which you generously do so, and grants him the unspoken permission to whisk you away into the levels of your residential building. 
The elevator ride is a close resemblance to the trip back to your place, however, there’s a contrasting atmosphere waiting to burst like a champagne bottle and spill over. Sunghoon’s holding your hand the entire way and you don’t resist the notion. 
When you approach your unit at the end of the hall, you fish for your keys that are sitting at the bottom of your bag. Sunghoon’s hand slips out of your grasp and you almost whine at the loss of his warmth and touch, but you know he’s only doing it for you to use both free hands to ultimately unlock your door. The click! of the lock coming from the other side is an indication that you can push past the door once the knob is turned.
You stand there, hesitant to enter your own home. 
“I guess— this is it?” You murmur tentatively to yourself and the taller. You rock on your heels purposefully stalling time as you force both him and yourself to stare a little longer at the iron numbers detailing your front door. 
You let out a rigged breath.
“Tonight was great. The longest I’ve been out of the house in a month, really.” You cringe pathetically at the confession knowing that a month ago Yunjin was the one who pulled you out of bed to get some fresh air and sunlight because you were hiding away like a vampire. "Thank you... Sunghoon, for treating me to dinner and spending the evening with me..."
He remains stoic and unusually quiet, making it challenging to decipher what he’s thinking or feeling. You wish you could enter his mind to get a glimpse of how his brain functions. You’d hate to seem pitiful for hoping that his advances from today were, if at all, genuine.
If what he said at dinner was coming from the heart.
As you contemplate what might be your last encounter with your 'the one who got away,’ Sunghoon astounds you with yet another trick up his sleeve, when he secures your wrist in his delicate grasp. Forever one step ahead of you, his lips collide with yours in a passionate fervent. The only appropriate reaction that you can give him in response is to return the kiss with just as much fervor. The strap to your purse slides off your shoulders and lands below you with a little thud thanks to Sunghoon’s antsy hands pushing it out of the way.
He cages you against the surface of the door, your back bumping into it when he forces the distance between your bodies to dissipate. Bothered by the tiny gap that prevents you from being as close as you possibly can to him. The only active barrier is now the layer of clothing he’s wearing and the tiny dress that nearly clings to your every curve. He can’t wait to impatiently rip you out of it and slip in a “I’ll buy you a new one, princess.”
Your hands find sanctuary in his soft hair. How you missed tugging at their roots when he’d go down on you in bed, on the kitchen counter, and in the shower with your one leg supporting your entire weight as Sunghoon made the other side dangle over his shoulder. Those positions are tempting, and biologically the flashbacks of your sexual activity with the male feed into the expansion of your slick that gradually soils your panties.  
You squeeze your thighs together. The pressure of your inner fat is an empty feeling of pleasure that you wish Sunghoon could replace with his tongue, fingers, cock, or all three one at a time. The male notices this cry-for-help and trails his right hand down the sides of your waist. He stops at the lace hemming of the cami dress, bunching the material to provide easy access to your mid-thigh. His fingers dance on your skin, traveling upward ever so slowly in an antagonizing fashion that almost infuriates you for his teasing manner in the heat of the moment. 
Sunghoon reluctantly breaks the kiss. The evidence of your already smudged matte lipstick has left a faint trace on his plump tiers. He buries his face in the crook of your neck, mouth ready to latch onto the sensitive area he knows best that will cloud every crevice of your mind with nothing but want and lust. At the end of this night, all that you will know is how to be his obedient cocksleeve like the good girl he’s conditioned you into.
The sound of someone clearing their throat on the opposite end of your apartment’s hallway is akin to a record player scratch. You’re grateful that the construction workers, or whoever built this place, designed the structure of your building to be a certain way so that the split-off point from the elevator wasn’t a simple corridor style where you could see both fire exits at each side. Instead, it was more so a wide V-shape. 
In other words, no one really caught you and Sunghoon in semi-public eating one another’s faces. 
You stop to share a quiet laugh with Sunghoon and ultimately enter the safe space of your flat, out of your neighbors point of view where they could have had a free, front-row seat to some juicy content. The door closes behind you, you can barely get out of your shoes and make it past the front step leading to your living room when Sunghoon’s haste to have you underneath the sheets with him in your bed has you stumbling backward. He catches you before you can register that you would have fallen onto your ass against the hardwood. His lips serve him well, contributing to the situation as a distraction that redirects your every inner thought bubble. 
Sunghoon casually kicks off his shoes, adding them to the haphazard pile alongside yours— the least of his concerns at the moment.
The kiss from outside repeats itself, and this time, Sunghoon can contently resume what he intended to do had another tenant not interrupted the mood. But the voyeurism exploration kink in him would have liked either sequence of events. 
His tongue traces a wet stripe up your neck, sending a shiver cascading down your spine. You dully bite down on your bottom lip, trying to stifle the whimper that is sanctioned at the back of your throat, trapped by a surge of lust and anticipation. Sunghoon’s mouth ghosts over the shell of your ear, and his hot breath tickles. 
“I wanna hear you, baby.” He slurs. “Don’t be shy on me now.” 
Sunghoon’s lips sheathe that sensitive spot on your neck, causing you to gasp. Your shoulders tense at the foreign feeling of his mouth on your body, and you’ve forgotten how good it was to receive a hickey. You relax under his touch when he gives the soft fat of your waist a reassuring squeeze.
His canines graze your skin while he sucks on the same patch, switching interchangeably to lap his tongue at the area when he begins to see a blossom of red and purple hues mix together, creating the prettiest bruise that would surely take more than a couple of days to fully heal. You groan when his teeth apply the right amount of force onto your flesh, leaving indents in their wake. His perverted mind relishes in the fact that only he is capable of marking you in ways that no other man could ever come close to.
He steps back to fully appreciate his canvas, that is you, and the absolute masterpiece that you are to him.
He leans in, pressing another kiss to your lips, this time with a gentler, more tender spirit, devoid of any sloppy motions. It’s delicate, a striking contrast to the heated lip-locking session the two of you were entranced with just moments ago on the other side of your apartment door. His larger palms cup your face as the pads of his thumbs caress the apples of your cheeks, making you feel loved and cared for.
Sunghoon lures your tongue into his mouth, clamping his lips around the muscle. He suckles at it, eliciting the cutest whimpers that he missed hearing from you since you’ve been gone. 
“Hnngh… Hah,” you pry yourself off of him, a string of your shared saliva connects the two of your equally moist lips. 
Your puffy lips shimmer in the moonlight streaming into your livingroom, as if the moon itself decided to play a starring role tonight. You squeeze his bicep, noticing that the muscle has doubled in size since you last touched it. You peer up at the taller through your eyelashes and Sunghoon has to conceal his primal instincts from fucking your throat with his raging hard-on. 
Your fingers graze the fabric of his long-sleeve collar, tracing delicate patterns across the black tie donned around his neck. Something about being able to witness a man up close in a suit never failed to provoke a flood of arousal from overwhelming your erogenous zone. Specifically, Sunghoon. It’s a shame— not really— that it eventually has to come off. With a deft touch, you begin to unravel the four-in-hand knot, a testament to Sunghoon’s meticulous self-preparation. The silk unravels, revealing its intricate texture beneath your fingertips. 
You assist Sunghoon in removing his suit jacket next, observing it gracefully descend to the floor. You briefly wonder why he's so nonchalant about leaving such an expensive garment on the ground, but he dismisses your concern with a wave of his hand. After all, as a chairman, he has the means and privilege to easily replace such clothing items.
You decide that it’s your turn to take the lead for once and initiate another heated session of sultry lip service. Your mouth kisses Sunghoon’s with primal hunger. Teeth clash, and you see no remorse for your hostility sponsored by pent-up sexual frustration and longing for some sort of relief that only Sunghoon can render. 
In a poor attempt to unbutton the last layer of clothing that shields Sunghoon’s upper half, your fingers fumble with the small disks that are fastened by the slits. You whine frustratedly against his lips once you realize you’re not making much progress. It is incredibly hard to multitask when your tongue is being manhandled by his.
“Here, lemme do it.“ Sunghoon mutters in a low growl. 
He tears open the placket just like he would to a bag of chips, and the buttons you were struggling to relieve him of pop off in ease, taunting you for your lack of efficiency at getting him out of his attire. He wriggles his arms free from the restraints of his sleeves and shrugs the apparel from the summit of his shoulders, allowing the ruined piece to join his suit jacket on the floor.
“Your turn, babe.” 
He twirls you around, your back fully pressed against his front as the tent in his pants pokes at your globes. The thrill of his length nestled between your ass spurs you to grind yourself on him, a staggered exhale of his hot breath fans the curvature of your trapezius, prickling your skin. The cotton material of your underwear cultivates a sticky sensation the longer you stay trapped in it.
“S-shit baby, you’re a fucking tease.” Sunghoon grabs your chin, forcing your head to turn his way so that he can seize your lips in an inconsistent kiss. Alternatively, it’s a tongue duel of him wanting to shove the muscular organ down your throat.
“A-ahh,” You moan helplessly.
He yanks the zipper of your dress. The item peels off of your bust, exposing your bare skin and naked torso simultaneously. You have to wriggle your hips past the remaining fabric in order to fully reveal your bare figure to Sunghoon— besides your damp panties that is.
“No bra today? It’s almost like you were expecting this to happen…” Sunghoon taunts.
“N-no…” You squeak, shaking your head.
“No? Use your words baby.”
You turn to face him, your perky mounds that come into his view are a sight for sore eyes. Even in the dark and scant amount of natural lighting from the celestial object in the night sky, is Sunghoon competent at reading your flustered features. How you manage to be cute yet look so lewd all at once is beyond his comprehension.
“I-I didn’t wear a bra because I thought it’d be easier to go without one.” You mumble, telling the truth.
“That’s better,” Sunghoon coos. He pecks your cheek and you smile at the reward.
“Eeek! S-Sunghoon!” You burst into a fit of shared laughter and giggles when said name scoops you into his arms, your body cradled against his chest, as your legs dangled over his one arm while the other supports your back.
“Just practicing when we’re both walking down the aisle at our future wedding.” Sunghoon jests.
Tenderness fills your eyes when you look up at him. He’s joked about the hypothetical conception of marriage twice in the night that you’re fully convinced it wouldn’t be all that bad of an idea. Given that both of you are ready and first rekindle the status of your relationship, of course.
Sunghoon grins. There’s a gentle kindness to his pearly whites, and you reach up to press a chaste kiss to his jawline.
He relocates to your bedroom. Gently, he lays you down on the bed, your body propped up on your forearms, bearing the weight of your upper half. With an unwavering gaze, you study Sunghoon closely, every detail of his expression and every nuance of his presence.
His eyebrows knit and meet in the middle, fixated on undoing his pants to escape from their restraints, followed by his underwear soon after. His stiff member rebounds off his lower abdomen, precum leaking from the mushroom tip. A satisfied exhale leaves his mouth. He stalks over to you with a sly smirk, towering your smaller frame when he crawls on top of the bed, his knees plant themselves into the mattress and his additional weight dips the space where you lay.
You whine when his length ghosts at the expanse of your inner thigh, suspense and arousal continue to bubble inside of you. Sunghoon murmurs for you to lay back. “Make yourself comfortable,” were his initial instructions before hooking the waistband of your panties with his fingers and dragging them below your legs. The undergarment was tossed to the side.
You nibble at your bottom lip and screw your eyes shut when a slender finger circles the perimeter of your labia.
“You’re so wet babe,” Sunghoon purrs.
Your breath hitches at the back of your throat when he slides his index finger through your inner lips, gathering an abundance of your slick to bring to his mouth for a taste. Both eyes flutter open in time to witness Sunghoon suck at the digit drenched with your arousal. The sight is sinfully lewd, nearly too much for you to handle. Your face reddens and you fight the inclination to hide behind your hands.
“You taste so good, too.“ He licks at his lips. “Wanna try?” Sunghoon cocks his head to the side, and you can’t find it in you to turn down his offer when he looks so innocent— yet acts like the devil himself when he’s overcome with lust. You nod your head with approval.
His duality needs to be studied at Harvard, you think in the back of your mind.
Sunghoon plunges his index finger past your hole, triggering your back to arch an inch off the bed. He chuckles lowly and watches as your hands grab desperately at the sheets beneath you to steady your sanity. The singular digit curls inside of you. Your unforeseen shock is vocalized in the form of a moan and Sunghoon repeats the motion several times.
“O-oh my god—“ You gasp.
The ravenette withdraws his finger and taps at your mouth, signaling you to open. You submit to his implicit dictation. Your lips encase his pointer, tongue swirling around it like a piece of sweet candy you’re tasting for the first time.
You bat your eyelashes prettily and moan. “Mmmh…”
“Dirty girl,” Sunghoon sniggers. He retracts his finger and you let it slip past your mouth with a ‘pop’ sound.
“Can you please give me your cock now?” You plead with a pout, doing your best impression of an endearing set of puppy eyes.
Sunghoon chuckles. “Let me at least prep you first, baby. How long has it been since you’ve had someone’s cock inside of you, anyways?”
You part your lips but close it just as quickly. To be candid, you've never been one to actively immerse yourself in the 'I'm single' scene. Your only foray into it was with Yunjin, roughly three weeks after your split with Sunghoon. The two of you ventured to a club, but it proved to be a brief endeavor. Within two hours, the fifth shot became a catalyst, turning you into an unending fountain of tears.
“Y/n?”
“Huh? Oh. Sorry…”
“I’m sorry baby. Did I overstep your boundaries?” Sunghoon cups your face with his right hand, his eyes scan yours, sincerity and concern laced in those chocolate orbs of his.
You stifle a giggle. Of all boundaries he could have crossed he draws the line at asking for your body count and not him fingering you.
“What? What’s so funny?” He asks.
“Nothing just… I think it’s ironic you ask me that now and not before we did all of this.” You motion to your bare bodies when you say ‘this.’
Sunghoon’s ears redden.
“But don’t worry, Hoonie.” You hook your arms around his neck and pull him closer to pepper his face with several reassuring kisses. “I don’t mind it all. Now can you please fuck my brains out!”
Your ex (whatever he is to you at this point) throws his head back to share a quick laugh, shortly pressing his forehead against yours.
Without warning, he buries three fingers in your pussy; your hips twitch at the sentience. They slide in and out without strain and together the two of you watch as he finger fucks your hole to “prep” for his cock. The squelching noise of your juices fill the room in addition to your moaning, and Sunghoon confronts a hurdle of his patience wearing thin, wanting to fuck you senseless.
His digits leave your hole and you whine immediately at the loss. Sunghoon uses the mass quantity of slick as a substitute for lube to lather on his angry cock. He shuffles against the bed, forcing your legs even further apart to fit himself in between them. The stretch burns your muscles but is soon forgotten when the tip of his length is rubbing your folds, occasionally bumping your swollen clit which generates a needy whine.
Sunghoon’s face screws with ecstasy when his shaft inches past your entrance. Your walls hug his length and he whimpers at the tight muscles that suffocate his erection. You squirm under him, tensed and breathing heavily. It’s hard to relax when seven inches feel like it’s splitting you in half after a long hiatus from sex. Sunghoon notices your discomfort and stills his hips from pushing further, allowing you the necessary time to adjust.
“Sorry baby, I know it’s been a while. You can take it, right? Like the good girl you are?”
You nod. He kisses your forehead, cheek, and lips to soothe your anxiety, using his lips as a distraction to keep your mind from zoning in on his cock. He seizes the opportunity to fit the rest of his length inch-by-inch, and you feel like a virgin all over again when the burn of his cock stretching you open is almost too unbearable.
“Sshh, it’ll be alright, baby.” He wipes away a loose tear. “I’m gonna move, tell me when and if it’s too much, okay?”
“O-okay, Hoonie…”
Steadily, Sunghoon recedes his hips, cock following in suit, just enough for the tip to be the only thing that your pussy clenches on. He snaps forward, your boobs jiggle at the motion and your eyes are rolling to the back of your head when he repeatedly thrusts at a steadfast pace. The pain you were once scared of is no longer a fear you have to worry about, as pleasure is the only thing you know how to feel.
“F-faster, harder, p-please Hoon.” You fight through broken moans to let your voice be heard.
“Shit—“ He curses.
Sunghoon’s fingers dig into the plush fat of your waist while his other hand presses into the space of your bed next to the side of your head. His eyebrows knit, focused entirely on increasing the speed of his thrusts. He continues to piston fuck your pussy, abusing your hole in the utmost gratifying procedure. Your thighs jiggle each time that his balls slap against your skin. Everything reminds him of an amateur homemade video he’s seen from other couples perform on Pornhub. He’ll have to ask you some other day if you’d ever be open to filming your own tapes to watch back.
“Mmh, right there, Hoonie.” You sigh dreamily, locking your legs around his waist and linking your ankles together. “You’re fucking me so good— Aah!” A high pitch squeal slips from your vocal box when his tip probes at your G-spot.
“F-fuck,” Sunghoon leans in close, relying only on one forearm to hold himself up from crushing you with his entire weight. He hides his face in your boobs, tongue flicking at the sensitive bud that hardens in response. He persistently thrusts deeper, his cockhead pressing against your sensitive bundle of nerves.
“Hnngh… Y-yes, yesyesyes!” You chant. Your fingers tangle themselves in his hair, scratching gently at his scalp and tugging whenever his mouth would suck or massage at your breasts. “You’re gonna— make me c-cum!“
Sunghoon’s unrelenting despite your warning. He can feel your walls clamping around his shaft, signaling your impending orgasm, and it taunts him to force himself deeper within your warm cavern at every jerk of his hips. Your hands fall to his biceps. Nails digging into his skin as your face distorts into extreme pleasure.
“I’m so close too, baby.” He groans. “Just.” Thrust. “A.” Thrust. “Couple.” Thrust. “M-more!”
“I’m cumming! I’m c-cumming—“ Your hips tremble with a frenzied urgency as your pussy pulsates around Sunghoon’s cock. Your mouth opens in a silent gasp and a long, impassioned moan escapes your lips. The sheer intensity of the moment leaving you incoherent and lost in ecstasy.
Sunghoon twitches inside of you. “Hah— you’re so— fuck!— s-sexy,” He grunts. Your head thrashes at the overstimulation of his length continuously pumping into you and you push at Sunghoon’s chest weakly, crying on his cock for him to slow down. You whine, whimper, plead for mercy so that your pussy can recover from the intense orgasm you just experienced not too long ago. In spite of that, he ignores your pleas and concentrates on finishing. It isn’t until white ropes of cum are shooting at your walls when his thrusts start to get sloppier and progressively come to a stop.
“Fuck.” Sunghoon exhales through gritted teeth. Both of you are a panting mess trying to catch your breaths as your chests rise and fall synchronously. The ravenette pulls out slowly and he groans when he sees his seed spill out of your hole, it closely reminds him of those hentai comics he’s read through illegal websites.
“I’ll get something to help clean you up.” Sunghoon lifts his weight from the bed but you reach for his forearm to grab him. You don’t have to say anything for him to understand that you don’t want him to leave your side. He brings a hand to yours, the pad of his thumb grazing the hills of your knuckles soothingly. “It’ll be fast, I promise.”
Not even 30 seconds has gone by when he re-enters your room with a damp cloth. He wipes at the areas where a mix of your cum and his seed litter your skin with sticky residue. He discards of the ruined cloth before joining you in bed where you welcome him with open arms. He plops down next to you and you turn to lay on your side so that you can get a proper view of his handsome face in post-sex afterglow. You reach out to gently touch his moles that adorn his features. The moles you missed seeing as the first thing in the morning when you’d wake up with him by your side. He grins lazily and cranes his neck to bring his lips to your forehead.
“Sunghoon…?” Your faces are merely inches apart from one another. Though the close proximity is not a foreign situation— especially after just having sex— you speak to him with a hushed tone.
“Yes?” He inquires.
“At the restaurant, you implied that you wanted to get back together again… Is it true? Do you really mean it?” Your lips are quivering and you mentally berate yourself for being so soft hearted in these types of scenarios where emotions are high, vulnerable, and transparency is called upon.
Sunghoon breathes shakily. “I really mean it. I miss you, Y/n.” He tucks away loose strands of hair that fall on your face. “These past two years without you have been hell. The first couple of months were so bad, I almost reconsidered being the chairman for father’s company so I could fight for us. Fight for you. I’m sorry if that part of my life got in our way as a couple, and I wish I had made more of an effort to be around you.”
You sniffle, “It wasn’t just your fault. I should’ve communicated instead of thinking I know better and that I thought what I did was for the greater good— because it wasn’t. And you’re right, the two years I spent without you were awful. I never wanna go through that again.”
Sunghoon loops an arm around your waist and guides your head to bury against his chest.
“We don’t have to.”
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Morning rays gently infiltrate the room as Sunghoon stands before the full-length mirror in your shared master bedroom. His voice carries across the space as he greets his loving wife, 'Good morning, Mrs. Park,' while he meticulously adjusts his tie.
You stir in bed. The unwelcome intrusion of sunlight forces you awake despite the supposedly blackout curtains you requested when you first moved in with Sunghoon. You sigh in irritation. Dismissing the hope of another ten minutes of sleep, you push yourself upright, your arms stretching above your head, accompanied by a vibrant yawn. Sunghoon, amused by your morning ritual, chuckles softly.
“Still sleepy?” Your husband turns to face you after successfully finishing the Windsor knot of his tie. You blink away the fog of grogginess from your eyes and grin when you get a clear vision of your husband clad in his usual work uniform.
“Mmm… you’re so handsome.”
Sunghoon's face lights up with a genuine smile, touched by your kind words that always seem to set the perfect tone for his day. He approaches your side of the bed with a confident saunter and takes a seat beside you.
“Any plans for today, my lovely wife?”
You can't help but giggle at his endearing habit of calling you 'wife' and 'Mrs. Park.' It's become a sweet tradition between the two of you, a reminder of your loving bond that has grown since your wedding day. You twist your hand to observe the silver band that ornaments your ring finger. The diamond twinkles back at you in the bask of the light.
“I think Yunjin and I are getting brunch, then we’re going shopping right after, and later in the evening we’re gonna drink some wine and paint as we gossip about our husbands.”
Sunghoon laughs. “You’ve got a busy day ahead of yourself then.” He nudges your side playfully and you giggle. “Don’t forget to fit me into your schedule. Let’s go out for dinner tonight.”
“Cold noodles and ginseng chicken soup?”
“Where it all started.”
You envelop yourself in your husband's embrace, showering him with affectionate kisses. Starting from his moles and moving to both cheeks, his nose, forehead, and, ultimately, his irresistible lips, you express your love and absolute adoration for him with each tender peck.
“I love you, Mr. Park.” You murmur against his plush tiers.
His fingers delicately sweep aside the loose strands of hair obscuring your face, as he lovingly takes in every captivating feature, examining them with deep worship.
“I love you more, Mrs. Park.”
Two years ago you and Sunghoon sealed the knot in California. The ceremony took place at the Alila Ventana wedding venue, perched on a cliff along the rugged coast line of Big Sur. It offered a dramatic landscape, nestled amidst towering redwood trees, and a breathtaking view of the Pacific Ocean; the perfect picturesque backdrop for photos and videography. The outdoor spaces, gourmet dining, and coastal elegance were truly significant factors of your reception.
Sunghoon kept his promise to Mrs. Kim when the time came to send out the wedding invitations. Her excitement was beyond words as both of you entered the restaurant, radiating a newfound delight. Her gaze immediately fixated on the sparkling diamond ring on your finger— the same one she had scolded him for, which was now complete.
Come time to exchange your vows, Sunghoon's heartfelt declaration to cherish and devote himself to your love made it extremely difficult to keep your makeup in tact. Yunjin, your appointed maid of honor, had to step in to hand you tissues one after the other. The audience laughing to themselves at your showcase of emotions.
True to his words, Sunghoon carried you bridal style as he stalked down the aisle. Your families and friends cheering from their seats, their joyous applause resonating through the air. The warmth of their smiles and the happy tears in their eyes mirrored the love that enveloped you both in that moment.
Since then, life with Sunghoon after marriage was anything but dull.
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fleurmiss · 2 years ago
Text
ೃ⁀➷ only you, my girl
- ,, neteyam x fem reader
- ,, you think neteyam is extremely attractive, others do too , its fine! you get it! but what happens when they cross a line ?
- ,, warnings - neteyam is head over heels for u, jealousy and the attitude that comes w it, fluff , all this happens before the events of awotw.
-‘๑’- dark red - steve lacy
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Neteyam has always shown so much interest in you, and made his courting so obvious, but why do people still not get the damn hint?
Currently you are walking on a huge tree branch, high above the ground, with Lo’ak, Kiri and Spider. Neteyam isn’t here, much to your dismay, because he has “ Future Olo’eyktan duties” as Lo’ak likes to call it.
“it’s almost eclipse, let’s start heading back” Kiri mentions and for once, Lo’ak and Spider agree and make their way home without causing too much of a fuss
“woah guys, you barely even whined about having to go back home so early today, whatsup?” you question laced with sarcasm as you hear Kiri chuckle and nod in agreement with you.
“we don’t want to keep you away from your boyfriend for too long y/n, we all know how cranky my brother gets without you” Lo’ak adds and Spider cackles, thinking this is so super funny.
You shove Lo’ak and tell him to shut up, and that Neteyam’s not your boyfriend, and he doesn’t get cranky.
Your relationship with Neteyam was quite.. obvious , yet complicated. Both confused teenagers in love yet don’t know how to confess it, nothing was official, but everyone knew you were off limits, you were Neteyam’s girl.
you are clutching your stomach in pain from laughing too hard when you enter the Sully’s cave, wiping a tear from your cheek wondering how on pandora could someone be so stupid as lo’ak and spider.
You hear the laughter die down and your eyes set on a pair sitting together in the gathering room of the cave, Neteyam and Rini.
You eye both of them in confusion, so does Lo’ak, Kiri, and even Spider. You feel butterflies fluttering in your stomach but not in the good way, you don’t like how close Rini is to Neteyam.
“Guys, Rini caught me on the way back to our cave and said she wanted to hang out with everyone, hope no one minds?”
The four of you shake your heads and make your way to the pair to sit down with them. It was odd, Rini wasn’t good friends with any of you, maybe Neteyam? No, you would know. Why does she suddenly wanna hang out with us? Neteyam is often times too nice to say no, maybe he couldn’t deny her? You wonder if the others question the same, and maybe they do, judging by the looks on their faces.
“y/n” you hear your name in neteyam’s voice, he pats the spot next to him, the opposite side of where Rini is sitting, you don’t want to sit next to him, to be petty, but you oblige anyways, oblivious to the female na’vi glaring daggers at you, Neteyam gives you a bright smile, now that you got his attention, you’ll have it the rest of the night.
Neteyam embraces you in a warm hug, his hands sneaking around your waist as he whispers into your ear “missed you, you look good”
you smile shyly and open your mouth to thank him, but someone else beats you to it
“Neteyam! This cut on your arm looks terrible!! Are you okay? How’d you get it?!”
God. Her voice is annoying, why is she yelling? Neteyam is literally next to her?
You eye Kiri and she rolls her eyes at Rini, you stifle a laugh and Neteyam notices, smiling sweetly at your antics, momentarily forgetting Rini was even there, until he is bought back to his senses.
“Oh this? It’s nothing just a scratch”
“Do you want me to patch it up for you?”
Your eye twitches, you try to have a normal conversation with the other three, trying your best to ignore the two sitting right next to you, but Rini makes it unbelievably hard with her screeching voice.
“No I’m g-“
“I insist” Rini touches Neteyams shoulder and gives it a squeeze, you look at Neteyam and he knows it, you’re pissed. You stay quiet and enjoy the show infront of you.
“I’ll have y/n help me later Rini, it’s alright.”
“Oh- Oh yeah okay” she deflates, but you have a feeling deep down, this girl isn’t giving up so easily. You wonder who put her up to this. Her mother? Grandmother? Friends? Toruk Makto’s eldest son’s mate does have a nice ring to it, despite the length, but that title’s yours, she knows it.
You all are laughing at Lo’ak and Kiri arguing about who Spider likes better when Neteyam rests his head on your shoulder. You feel your stomach explode with butterflies again, the good kind.
“Tired?”
“mhm” Neteyam mumbles, you reach your hand up to the braid dangling infront of his face and move it behind his ear. Your romantic little moment is interrupted yet again by the same culprit from last time.
“Neteyammm, it’s so dark! Will you walk me to my cave?” Rini latches onto Neteyam’s arm and gives him a little tug thats powerful enough to have him pulling away from you and get him to stand up.
“Uh-“ Neteyam looks at you for approval, you’re not looking at him, instead opting the floor was a better option. Neteyam is no fool, he knows why you’re upset, he gets it too, if some random man was leeching onto you like Rini is, he’d be upset, hell, he’d be crazy. He doesn’t like that expression on your face, he doesn’t like when you’re sad, because of him too.
Neteyam look’s over to Lo’ak and Lo’ak immediately gets on it. “Bro don’t worry about it, Kiri, Spider and I will walk Rini to her cave, we know you’re tired and wanna be with your girlfriend”. Lo’ak smiles and winks at his older brother.
This throws Rini offguard.
“Thank you guys. Rini, see you around”.
“Awh Neteyam it’s a shame you couldn’t accompany me, y/n keeps snatching you away from me and if i’m correct.. she isn’t even your girlfriend.. you should spend more time with me and my friends!” Rini smiles slyly, her tone innocent but her intentions show clearly. Rini hugs Neteyam and whispers something in his ear, which you’re sure she said loud enough for you to hear on purpose.
“If you ever do need a mate that will actually commit, you know your options” she winks and pulls away from his embrace as the group starts to walk outside, irritated.
You stand up abruptly and walk past Neteyam who stood there dumbfounded.
“Y/n” He grabs your wrist to stop you from walking any further.
“Let go Neteyam, I wanna go home” You hate how wobbly your voice sounds when you speak right now.
“y/n, are you crying?” He sounds so worried it makes you even sadder
“i’m sorry baby, im sorry, i didn’t know she was gonna act like that” he pulls your head into his shoulder and strokes your back comfortingly.
“don’t call me that.. im not your girlfriend, and i don’t care how she acts” you say, though your tone and quivering lip betray your words
“y/n..” he pulls you away and cups your face with his gentle hands, afraid he would break you if he was any less gentle “cmon look at me” you meet his gaze and his eyebrows furrow at the sight of your slightly red but watery eyes
“you know you’re the only girl i ever want right? you’re so special to me y/n..why don’t you see that, i want you to be mine so bad, every morning i wake up and pray to Eywa to finally have let you see how desperate i am for you. why must you let someone like rini ruin your day?”
you sniffle, and Neteyam thinks its so cute he could kiss you right now, but he holds back.
“but i am yours nete” you say, unintentional doe eyes looking up at Neteyam that make him melt, he can’t hold himself back anymore .
Neteyam leans towards your face, held by his hands, and he stops right infront of your lips, asking for permission, waiting for disapproval “kiss me y/n” it sounds like a plead, like he’s almost begging, so you do.
you feel your head explode, his lips are so soft, so perfect against your own and you question why you didn’t do this before.
you pull away but neteyam chases after your lips and captures them again. You finally pull away and rest your forehead against his. Neteyam gives you another kiss that lasts shorter than your previous, “i see you, y/n”
you look up at him through your eyelashes and smile slowly
“say it back” he whispers against your lips and you almost give in.
“are you sure? you don’t wanna explore your other options?”
“you are the only option, ever.” you smile.
“i see you, neteyam” and you kiss him again, he whines into your mouth and you have to stop yourself from giggling at the sight of our future olo’eyktan being putty in your hands.
- you hear a sob from outside and later realize Rini stayed behind cuz she thought Neteyam would leave you and go after her but oh was she wrong
- loak, kiri, and spider dont even realize rini is missing and they start talking shit abt her once they know shes gone
- anytime rini saw u and neteyam after this, she would always have her fists balled up and bottom lip quivering
- she thought she still had a chance with neteyam after her eavesdropping on his confession but everytime yall hung out neteyam would be so clingy that eventually she realized he was too inlove with you
- fuck u rini hah hes mine btch
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kedreeva · 8 months ago
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Okay, I haven't wanted to talk much about the peafowl lately, been just kinda dealing with Stan's passing, but! I have news I don't want to keep quiet, so here we go with a little announcement.
I've been helping a friend of mine with a bunch of peafowl genetics work lately, as he's trying to prove out a really neat phenotype of speckled and white peafowl that showed up in his breeding stock, and he just spent tens of thousands of dollars importing two new morphs from Europe: European violet (aka, my dream morph) and Ultramarine (pretty and only otherwise being produced by TWO breeders in the WORLD). When Bill heard about Stan, he asked if I was going to go to a large farm auction that's a few hours from my house. I don't, normally, since it's a few hours from my house and the auctions usually make me kinda sad when it comes to peafowl (they stress out SO MUCH) even though it's cool to see how much they're going for at a wider audience auction.
Then he told me he would be going, and that if I wanted to come down the day before the auction, he'd bring me another male, to replace Stan. I had already made plans to hang onto Bismuth, at least for a few years, and to pick up babies from Indie x Arcana/Eclipse this november, including a male, so I didn't really need another male, and don't have the cash for one anyway. He said no, he meant one of the split EUV males from last year's first-USA breeding. For free. As a thank you for helping him.
To put this into perspective, importing the birds is a ~$10k affair, per bird. I had fully resigned myself to never even SEEING one of these birds in person, much less ever owning one. Even if someone else got them imported, they would remain thousands of dollars for the first few years, and quickly become mixed with other stuff, potentially even be lost by people breeding to purple. He went in on a group import with another breeder and they have both just started selling the full-color birds for over $2k apiece (alongside Ultramarine, which before their import was bred by TWO people in the WORLD, and babies from that are going for almost $7k each, but EUV is more widely spread). Splits (like the one I will be getting) are being let go for $750. This is also the color I have desperately wanted since I first saw them 8-10 years ago (though I believe they've been around slightly longer), but that I had resigned myself to never actually having.
To put it mildly, I'm probably going to burst into tears when I see Bill and this bird. It's going to be super embarrassing. And then I'm going to have to build more pens. And then I'm going to have to get as plain-blue, pure-indian blue hens as I can find, and become one of the most serious curators of plain pure EUV in the US, because I know the other two who have them currently will be outcrossing to other patterns/colors immediately and the people buying them will likely be doing the same, and everyone will be clamoring to make them into high Spaldings ASAP, or won't know not to cross them to purples and wreck the color.
Here's the sire cock, the one imported:
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You will notice that this bird is purple in full sun, from the sunny side. That's the main difference between European violet and US purple- a US purple looks blue until you get the right angle on the sun vs the bird vs the camera, and you have to get the bird between you and the sun, so the purple is often in the shadow side- visible to the eye but not the camera. EUV is just purple. Even from the sunny side!!
And the Ultramarine, in case you were wondering about their color:
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(pics reposted w/ permission from Bill)
The breeder is Spring Creek Peafowl, and in case anyone is secretly a peafowl breeder or knows other peafowl breeders with too much money that want in on a new color morph, he DOES have UM pairs and EUV hens (and more split males) for sale currently, for less than the only other person in the US that has them. They're still pricey, but cheaper. I WISH I had the extra to have my friend add on an EUV hen, but alas, I will have to wait to make my own in a few years. Even just the opportunity to do so is something I never expected to have!
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sweetsbfreex · 2 years ago
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only to be with you
summary: Netyam has been training with his father incessantly. He just needs this one moment to be with you, and only you. 
pairing: neteyam x gf!omaticaya! reader
⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•
You’re in the midst of cutting up dried fruit when you feel it: Two hands gripping your waist, and without a thought the knife in your hand presses against the throat of whoever’s behind. 
“Neteyam, you skxawng! I could’ve hurt you!” You drop the knife quickly, softly slapping the side of his head with the other. 
“It’d be the best way for me to go out, no?” He chuckles, taking the knife from your clutch, throwing it behind you with a smug smile on his face, as he gathers your now empty hand in his. 
“Don’t do that again.”
“I promise I won’t,” he rolls his eyes, that stupid smile still on his face while making a show of crossing his fingers behind his back. 
His free hand feathers down your arm, “What are you doing back? I wasn’t expecting you for two more days.” 
Neteyam has been off training with his father and brother. Not only was his father your clan’s Olo'eyktan, but Neteyam would be next in line as the eldest son. So taking these training sessions seriously was crucial to his future. 
“We finished early, but we go back out tomorrow. I needed to see you.” 
You smile at his endearment. 
“Let’s go, I want to go to Utral Aymokriyä,” he tells you suddenly.
“Right now?! It’s nearly eclipse,” but he drags you out in the absence of concern. 
— 
“Ma ‘Teyam! The sun has already set. Your father will kill us— you if he determines we are out here.”
“You worry too much, yawne (beloved).” 
“You are not worrying enough,” you huff, as he slows both of you to a stop, once you have reached your destination. 
The Tree of Voices is a magnificent sight, but at night, you marvel at how Eywa could have created something so beautiful. Watching as the willow tree glows its breathtaking purple hue. Surrounded by glowing green cherubs. Against Neteyam, his green eyes glimmer softly, as does his skin. 
He sits on his familiar spot, resting against a rock facing Utral Aymokriyä. He tugs you down with him, placing you against his toned chest. A teasing smirk on his face as he throws an arm around your shoulders, pulling you closer. 
“You have training tomorrow with your father. I don’t want to be the reason—“
Neteyam can’t help but grow irritated (in a loving way, of course) at your worrisome ways. He hasn’t seen you in a week, since training with his father and younger brother becomes more frequent and tiresome. He just needed this moment to relax, and who better to do it with than his yawne.
He cups your jaw gently, silencing you in the moment, tilting your face to him. “I have not seen you in what feels like forever. Let yourself be the reason I am happy and easy. Hm?”
You smile shyly at his admission. Letting yourself relax in the arms of Neteyam entirely. 
“I have missed you.” He murmurs, the pads of his thumbs running over the apples of your cheek. 
“So have I. More than you know.” You reply, placing a hand behind his neck. Watching as his eyes become heavy lidded, inching his face— more so his lips— towards you. 
In a blink, Neteyam wraps another arm around your trim waist, pulling you even closer. And his lips latch on top of yours in a rush. 
“Neteyam,” you gasp, your hand squeezes his arm as he trails kisses down the side of your neck. 
“Y/n,” he groans against your pulse point before he fastens your lips with his, cupping the back of your head. 
It’s scandalous and a little degenerate to do what you do at such a sacred site. Neteyams kisses only grow fervent at the sounds you emit. The way you grip his arm or allow your tongue clash with his, just as he’s taught you. 
— 
Neteyam laughs at your joke, his lips never far from your temple. Your hands swim together in the air gently. 
“How are singing lessons?” He asks, bringing the back of your hand to his lips. 
Inwardly, you shudder at his affection. But the way the tips of your ears flicker gives you away. 
“It is alright. My mother believes I will be just as good as her one day, maybe even better when I master my breathing.” 
Your mother, Ninat. 
“You will be. You are.” Your Neteyam assures you with conviction, his fingers dropping yours to grasp your chin. 
“Thank you, ma Nateyam.” 
You kiss his swollen lips, cupping his face in your palms. Lost in anything and everything him.
Yet, the sound of a clearing throat causes the two of you to jump away. Your hands drop from Neteyam’s face. Your fingers covering your lips as if it could hide what the two of you had been doing, at the sight of your clan’s Olo'eyktan: Jake Sully. 
Lo’ak stands at his father's side. A guilty look on his face. He had no choice but to snitch. His father was a convincing man. 
“Dad—“
“Neteyam. You should’ve been home by eclipse, what are you doing out here— never mind, don’t answer that.” He pinches the bridge of his nose. “We have training tomorrow morning, did you forget?” 
Neteyam rises to his feet, lending a hand to you. 
“I didn’t forget. It is my fault. I— I lost track of time.” 
Your stomach stirs at the sight of an intimidating Jake Sully. Your tail tucked low and ears pinned back. 
Jake sighs in reply. “Lo’ak, See to it Y/n gets home safely, and make your way back home quickly. Understood?” 
“Yes, sir.”
You look up at Neteyam in question, but when he squeezes your hand and nods softly. You know to follow his father’s orders. 
“Make sure she gets home safe.” Neteyam calls after your retreating figures.
“Yes brother.” Lo’ak replies exasperated as if he didn’t already know it would be his head if anything were to happen to Y/n.
“Goodnight, Y/n.” Jake smiles, bowing his head curtly. 
“Have a goodnight Mr. Sully. Goodnight Neteyam.” You reply, waving as you follow closely behind Lo’ak. 
When the sound of their footsteps is no longer heard, Jake can’t help but let out a short, frustrating sigh.
“What’s going on with you son. I can expect this behavior from your brother, but you? You’ve been slacking.” 
“I’m sorry, dad,” Neteyam can’t help lowering  his head at the disappointment he’s embarked on his father. “I’m trying to learn to balance it all. I barely get to see her.” He raises his head once again. 
Jake sighs again, unsure of what to say. How to fix this without coming off a complete jackass. Anything pertaining to his kids’ romantic lives was usually appointed to their mother. He wasn’t hopeless, but Neytiri was far better off. 
But he knows one thing. With the love he feels for his mate, he’d never want to get in the way of whatever it is between you and his son. 
“We’ll figure out a compromise. How does that sound?” Jake slings an arm around his eldest, letting a hand rest on top of Neteyam’s head. 
“Thank you, dad.” He smiles, throwing an arm around his waist. 
“Let’s head back, your mother is worried sick.” He kisses the top of his head and the two trek home. 
if you enjoyed pls don’t forget to reblog or give feedback &lt;3
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a-force-dyad-in-space · 3 months ago
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So I've been rewatching the Twilight movies and certain scenes from them recently, and there's something that caught my eye while going through the post-battle scene in Eclipse.
We have Jane and the others show up, being like "blah blah blah, you guys did pretty well against all these newborns, how curious, blah blah" before Jane notices that one of the newborns is still alive, pointing out Bree.
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Now, here's where it gets interesting for me. Because Jasper immediately moves and stands next to her protectively.
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And yeah, sure, he's the newborn expert, he's in charge of all-things newborn vampires, so in that sense alone it makes sense for him to associate himself with her in that way, but I think it's a lot more than that; namely something that is always mentioned in passing in the movies, but never really pointed out as something significant (unlike Edward's telepathy and Alice's precognition, which are always mentioned first in terms of desirable acquisitions of power). I of course speak of his pathokinesis.
Bree is scared. At this point she has realized that she's a vampire and what that means for her life, but she has no idea if she will come out of this stand-off alive, so naturally, she is nervous.
And thanks to his pathokinesis, of course Jasper can feel that. So I think he's standing with her, almost protectively, not just because he's in charge of her, but because he can feel her fear and tries to comfort her with his presence (she with her vampire sight can of course see that his skin is decked out in scars, so that intimidating display alone probably tells her him being on her side is a good thing).
And then we come to Jane starting to torture Bree, and me having another observation.
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When she falls to the ground and is screaming in agony, we can assume that Jasper can feel that, too (not the pain itself, but the mental anguish connected to it). And look how startled he seems when he sees her fall and looks from Bree to Jane.
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This moment here makes me think that this is probably the first time he's ever seen Jane's power in person. Of course he knew about her, knew what her powers are. Alice probably filled him in in detail about the events in Volterra from New Moon, and I assume Carlisle has shared many stories over the years, too.
But hearing about something and actually seeing it first-hand are two very different things.
For someone like him, who can feel what other people are feeling, from their happiest moments to their most devastating mental pain, watching Jane not only use her powers, but relish in their effect without a second thought since she can't feel the pain she's causing, must be absolutely nauseating, for lack of a better word.
Jasper's experienced several lifetimes of anguish by proximity and is trying his best to make others feel better, while Jane deals blow after blow with her powers without any consequence. It must feel wrong and unfair to him.
Anyway, back to the point.
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This is the face of a man who has fully realized what the antagonistic force is capable of, and he'll be sure to be prepared, next time they cross paths.
And lastly, something sad.
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He turns his back on Bree, probably because he can't deal with watching her die on top of feeling her fear and pain. Neither he nor the other Cullens can stop Bree's death from happening without declaring war on the Volturi in the process (because I'm certain that's how Jane and the others would see their push-back).
So all he can do is turn away, and maybe make an effort to lessen her pain (it doesn't look like he did, but I think it would make sense if he used his powers to make death less frightening for Bree).
Anyway, rest in peace, Bree, you would have made a wonderful addition to the Cullen family. ♥
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sunandsstars · 1 year ago
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YAWNETU
CHAPTER 8
Tonowari x Ronal x Na’vi!Reader
Summary: With her arrival in Awa’atlu, reader seeks to find a sanctuary for her family, one that she may find in two particular individuals
Warnings: Implies drowning, mentions death
Word count: 2.2K
A/N: Guess who’s back!! 😝😝also pls pls pls double check if your name is on my taglist! if it’s on there 2x drop me a message and i’ll remove one of them, just clears some space and organises me! And thank you so much for being so patient!
Taglist: @itsyoboysparkel @dumb-fawkin-bitch @drinking-tea-and-be-obsessed @fanboyluvr @mooniequeen @berrybluez @bajadotcom @alwaysinwritersblock @pandoragalora @perfectprofessorloverapricot @lvrcpid @answer-the-sirens @phantomalex14 @neteyamforlife @bat1212 @sadforeversblog @ducks118 @cleverzonkwombatsludge @1800imgay @soushswag @honeybxes @lola-bunn1 @alldaysdreamers @doggodorime @theesexystallion @scarlettwch @annamarieisbae @wallpaintt @zatarias-pandora @daoyus @ambria @simp-erformarvelwomen @simpliheavenli @tojidilfs @automaticwizardnerd @lexasaurs634 @symptoms-of-moonlight @avtprint
@deviismynamewritingismygame @sunrays404 @tsireyassgurl @xx-kaitlyn-trixx-xx @that-one-daydreamer @yeosxxx @noname2246 @ok-boke @rubyrubyruuu @diosmilkymommers @annaleesworld @jiminsthickthighs @holysaladapricothero @peaches-peach-peach @enochi @thispussyshouldcomew @ihonestlydontknowwhattonamethis @kirisimpster @pompompomegranate @stevebuckysdoll @midhito @any-maybe @nyylovestowrite @omnimaki @blueberryfailureclinic @degenweeb @tejas-kris @sadlyitsme-boo-hoo @agustdeeyaa @kthehoeforfictionalmen @himbo-klown @miraxflor @behindthearcane @yanelis-world @jaxe-27 @noahboahsblog
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The next few months became repetitive, lessons on how to be a Metkayina, lessons on how to be a Tsahìk, spending time with Tonowari and Ronal. It was a comfortable routine ___ got herself into, she was happy here in Awa’atlu. Her babies were safe and healthy, she was safe and healthy.
But sometimes she would be reminded of her home back in the forests, her people, her old mates, Spider.
She missed him.
___ continues to weave a new top, made of dried seaweed and shells, she enjoyed these new garments and loved wearing and designing them in her free time. They were much more freer to wear than the leather she was more used to growing up. Her mind drifted to Spider once more, wondering if the toddler was ok and if he was safe with Norm and the other tuwtute. She knew they would take good care of him, but she could not help but think he would be in better care with her. His mother.
Shaking her head she huffed, placing the half finished top onto the floor and turned her head to look out the marui, watching the waves dance in the afternoon sun, eclipse would be upon them soon and she planned to take Sylwaì and Syatxì to see the bioluminescence of the ocean. They were able to swim, being fast learners, and often had swimming lessons with Ao’nung and other Metkayina babies. Their teacher said they fit right in, it made her happy they were accepted as apart of the people despite their obvious differences.
“mmm” a mumble interrupted her train of thoughts, she looked at the source and saw Syatxì crawling his way towards her. “mmma”
“Kaltxì ‘itan” she picked him up and nuzzled her nose to his, smooching his forehead. The twins have grown quite well, now able to move about and starting to sound out words, Ronal said it would be soon they will begin to walk and talk. “Hmmm, your hair needs to be braided again” ___ talked to herself, looking at the slight exposure of her sons queue and turned him around, getting to work.
Her nimble fingers skilfully crossed over sections of hair at the crown of his head, creating a pattern that her mother taught her in a time long passed. Tying off the end of the braid the mother looked to the setting sun, purples and oranges erupting in the sky, it was almost time to take them outside.
___ stood from her seated position, picking up her son and balancing him on her hip, head swivelling to her rolled out sleeping mat and seeing Sylwaì sat up and waving around a carved out toy of an ikran. His mother smiled and walked towards him, “come on baby” she squatted and scooped him up, settling him on her other hip.
Even when the Pandoran skies darken and eclipse has taken place, the village of Awa’atlu is still active with its people. She smiled and greeted some weavers who walked by her on the elevated platform, she assumed they are going towards the forest to look for more materials. “Have you seen Ronal?” she asked them before they left her sights, the Tsahìk agreed to join her on her expedition with her own son, seeing that this bonding activity will prove beneficial for all.
“She is on the beach the last we saw” one of the men shrugged and pointed in the direction of the east end of the shoreline, waving as ___ thanked him and strolled towards the direction she was pointed to.
But as she arrived on the beach, there was no Tsahìk, or anyone for that matter. The beach was deserted save for a few Na’vi children running around by the mangrove roots. ___ chirped in confusion, yellow eyes darting left and right as she walked closer to the waters edge. “Ronal?” she called out, her sons humming and bouncing with contained excitement.
“I am here” a head poked out of the deeper ends of the water, a grin slowly forming its way onto the Metkayinan’s face. She brought up Ao’nung who squealed when he was swung in the air, laughing at the exhilaration he feels. “We arrived early and my son was impatient, I apologise flower”
Flower.
It was a nickname that Tonowari originally came up with, comparing her to one of the fauna he spotted while deep diving outside the reef. When he brought it back and showed it to his mate and friend, the Tsahìk instantly adapted to call ___ it, why would she not? When the petals were the most prettiest shade of dark blue and the middle was a gorgeous colour of amber, like her eyes. Oh Eywa.
The former Omaticayan flushed slightly but shook it out of her mind. ‘She is just being nice’ she told herself. If only she knew.
___ slowly waded herself through the water, feeling soft wet sand underneath her toes. Her ears wriggled at the sound of childish giggles from her two sons, their tails being touched by the slightly warmed sea. Soon their bodies were enveloped, saved for their heads which ___ kept above water. Even though they may have been good in their lessons, she knew their body is still not well suited for the reefs, more for the forests. So she took great care to watch over them better than the Metkayina children.
“Sa’nu!” Ao’nung cried out, seeing the bluer Na’vi getting closer to them. ___’s heart froze up slightly, eyes going straight to her Tsahìk with pointed down ears. She did not expect for the boy to call her mummy, as she is not the one who mothered him.
Ronal’s tail swished harshly under the water, a bashful look overcoming her face. She knew she was partly at fault, she always brought the boy around the women and her children, never made it clear who ___ was to her. Ao’nung saw a women who was close with his mother and decided that she too would be worthy of the title.
She did not bother correcting him.
“I am sorry-“
“You do not have to be. I saw this coming. Ao’nung does take a large liking to you ___. But I apologise if it makes you uncomfortable” Ronal turned towards the walls of her village in the sea, watching the small fires lit on the outskirts where the canoes continue to row.
“Kehe. It does not make me uncomfortable. I just did not expect it” ___ did not see the grin that formed on the others face.
“Za’u. We will go deeper with ilus” Ronal made a call and a small swarm of creatures swam over to them, clicking and singing in happiness. Ao’nung reached out to tap one on the head with his four fingers, squealing when the tiny ilu nudged his round tummy.
___ let Sylwaì and Syatxì make tsaheylu with the smaller ones, knowing that it is normal to do so gives her comfort. Ilus are like pa’li, but more sociable and safer to bond with.
The boys little fingers grip the tiny reins that connect the animals queues together and slowly swam off to find Ao’nung while their mother established the bond herself on a much larger ilu, following closely behind.
The family dove under the surface, watching as the reef became alive with bright colours. Even though ___ has seen it all before, Pandora never fails to take her breath away. She turned her head to the left to sign to her companion. “Where should we go?”
“I think it is time I show you our spirit tree”
If the Omaticayan was out of the water she would gasp with delight. She has heard from the elders that their spirit tree lies within the cove of ancestors not far from their village, they told her that unlike the giant tree she was used to back in the forest, it is more like a large bundle of sea weed. She was most excited to see it and wanted to venture out herself, but she knew that she needed permission from the Tsahìk or be accompanied by another villager. This may be her home now, but the spiritual tree is something that is most sacred.
Ronal saw the growing excitement on her face and grinned a rare smile.
This will be a night neither one would forget.
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The cove of ancestors was better at eclipse, she has been told. But seeing it in person surpassed all expectations. Sylwaì was now huddled in her arms, while her other son and Ao’nung stayed with Ronal, the two small ilus having a chance to take a well deserved break.
“Look down there, flower”
The glow of the spirit tree shone a bright purple and pink hue, its leaves swayed prettily in the deep ends of the waters, curling and twisting to create a giant mass of virtue.
“It is beautiful. Unlike anything I have ever seen”
“Srane…” blue eyes clashed with yellow and the world came to a standstill, if the children were not here, she would surely confess her feelings.
Ao’nung noticed the tree and immediately wriggled in his mothers hold, wanting to go down and see for himself, splashing in the water and swimming to the very top leaf.
Ronal sighed and rolled her eyes slightly at the interruption but smiled a little, diving after him while still holding Syatxì, not waiting for her friend to follow.
After taking a large breath, the two at the surface dove down and followed after the others. Going towards the more shallower tip of the tree to ensure the children would not eventually lose their breath.
“Make the bond” Ronal signed, connecting her hands together and then taking Syatxì’s queue, touching the pink tips of the braid to the tree. “And do not worry, Eywa will give them air”
___ nodded in trust and did the same to Sylwaì and then herself. Feeling a familiar calmness wash over her, watching the colours around fade into a tunnel.
The eye of Eywa.
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The lush green grass and tall trees of the forest was not what she expected when she opened her eyes again. But to be honest she did not expect anything.
Laughter filled her pointed ears and she turned around, following the sounds as her feet guided her towards a pretty river with a large waterfall just a few meters up ahead. She recognised the area, it was one from her childhood, an area nearby home tree that her mother and father always took her to.
“My my, you certainly have been busy”
“Sempul!”
___ cried out and crashed into the man who sired her for as long as she lived. She was devastated when her parents went off to fight in the war, both being strong and respected warriors in the clan, but she mourned so much when she found out that they did not live. ___ did not get a chance to see them for a long time since her pregnancy and her arrival in Awa’atlu, not until now.
“Mawey ‘ite. Mawey” Her father pulled back and brushed his daughters loose hair from her face, noting the lack of braids. “Healthy grandchildren. Eywa had blessed us with a wonderful family, one that we hope will grow even larger?”
The young women blinked once. Then twice. Confusion fulling her face. “Sempul…What do you mean. I have not met anyone recently. Not since…”
“Those kalweyaveng. They did not deserve you daughter” ___’s mother approached from the water, holding her grandsons on her hips who played with her beaded hair. “We are glad you have found refuge with the reef Na’vi. They have been kind to you, yes?”
“Srane”
“Of course they have Hìfey, you have seen the way the clan leaders treat her. I would not be surprised if they get together soon. That will happen yes?”
“Father!”
“Kehe. He is right ‘ite. They treat you like a mate, her son calls you mother. Do not give me that look. We see and hear through Eywa” Hìfey rolled her large eyes and smiled softly, watching as silent tears welded in her beautiful child’s eyes. “My heart, there is no need to cry. Tell them how you feel”
___ sniffled and turned back to hug her father once more for comfort. “What if they reject me. Treat me like Jake and Neytiri. What if they cast me out. I cannot let my sons live as an outcast forever sa’nok”
Hìfey shared a look with her husband, one of understanding, a look that needed no words. “Daughter, I refuse to believe that would happen. Have faith my child. Everything will be alright, trust us. Trust Eywa”
And with that, her eyes closed in complete bliss. Heart slowing down as a bright light washed over her vision, she will tell them how she feels.
It is time for a new beginning.
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sweetvoidstuff · 10 months ago
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See you later, sweetheart II Cha Hyun Su x Reader
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Cha Hyun Su x Reader
Summary: In the aftermath of a battle, the dimly lit staircase is charged with tension as Hyun Su's monstrous side emerges, questioning your loyalty to Hyun Su. You stand your ground, earning an unexpected shift in the monster's demeanor.
the first part, kinda ~~~~~ the next part, kinda
Masterlist
~~~~~
The atmosphere in the dimly lit staircase is heavy with the aftermath of the battle, the air thick with the scent of adrenaline and the metallic tang of blood. Hyun Su's spear leans against the wall, and you glance over at him, catching the blackened eyes that signal the presence of his monstrous side. His usual gentleness is eclipsed by the emergence of this alter ego. A shiver runs down your spine, having seen his blackened eyes only in passing until now. As you approach cautiously, his monstrous self smirks.
"Well, look who decided to stick around," the monster purrs, a flirtatious edge to its voice. "He must be something special to you to endure the chaos that is Hyun Su."
Your response was swift, your tone firm and scolding. "He fought to protect me. You should appreciate that."
The monster chuckles, its demeanor still confident. "Oh, I do. But let's be real, sweetheart. You've been hanging around a weakling. Why stay?"
Your response is swift, defending Hyun Su with determination. "Hyun Su isn't weak. He cares. He helps wherever he can. He protects us."
Before you can continue, the monster raises an intrigued eyebrow. "You really believe that, huh? Weaklings like him need protection, and you seem more than willing to provide it."
Undeterred, you stand your ground. "He's worth it. I won't abandon him."
A smirk plays on the monster's lips as it issues a veiled threat. "You've got spirit, I'll give you that. But don't think I won't get rid of you if you become a problem."
With a step closer, you declare boldly, "Good luck with that. I'm not going anywhere."
Unexpectedly, the monster's demeanor shifts, and its smirk transforms into a full-on smile. "Well, well. Quite the brave one, aren't you? Looks like Hyun Su has found someone who won't break easily. Maybe you're not so bad after all."
As the tension eases, the monster steps even closer, closely watching your every expression. Your confusion is apparent, along with your sweet smell that reaches its heightened senses. The dismissive attitude begins to shift, replaced by an acknowledgment of your resilience and, perhaps, an unusual fondness.
Before you can say more, the monster straightens its back with a chuckle. "We will see." Hyun Su's body slumps forward, and you instinctively catch him. The blackened eyes revert to their normal dark brown, signaling the return of the Cha Hyun Su you knew.
Hyun Su blinks, his eyes slowly returning to their usual dark brown. A flicker of fear and confusion crosses his face as he finds himself in your arms, the intensity of the moment bringing a sense of vulnerability. His breathing is uneven, and he stammers, "I-I'm so sorry. I don't know what happened. Did I hurt you?"
You shake your head, a comforting smile on your lips as you reassure him, "No, you didn't hurt me. Your... other side just talked, that's all. But we should probably get out of here before another monster finds us."
Realizing that he is still in your arms, Hyun Su's cheeks flush with embarrassment. However, rather than stepping back, he instinctively holds onto you, pulling you into a more intimate embrace. "Sorry," he whispers, his voice soft and genuine, "I just thought he could have…" unable to finish his sentence.
Your heart skips a beat at the closeness, and you smile, placing a reassuring hand on his back. The two of you stand in the dimly lit staircase, finding solace in each other's arms. The tension begins to melt away as Hyun Su's uncertainty transforms into a shared understanding. "I'm not going anywhere."
He steps back slowly, creating some distance between you two, and nods in agreement, blushing. "Y-yeah, you're right. We should go."
The two of you carefully make your way down the staircase, navigating through the remnants of the battle. As you walk, Hyun Su can't help but steal glances at you, his gaze searching for any sign of discomfort or fear. You catch his eyes and offer a reassuring smile, silently affirming the bond that has deepened between you.
The air between you becomes charged with unspoken words, a mix of vulnerability and trust. As you reach the bottom of the staircase, you glance back, making sure no lurking monsters are ready to ambush you. The atmosphere is tense before you walk back to the others. Hyun Su, still wrestling with the fear that his monstrous side instilled, speaks hesitantly, "I never wanted you to see that side of me. It's... unpredictable and dangerous."
You turn to look at him, offering a warm smile. "Hyun Su, you're not a danger. Your other side, it's a part of you, but it didn't harm me. I trust you."
As the tension from the encounter began to dissipate, Hyun Su's steps became lighter, and he glanced at you with a newfound warmth. "Thank you," he whispered, his gratitude echoing through the empty halls.
With newfound determination, the two of you continued your journey, navigating the labyrinth of dangers that awaited. The bond between you and Hyun Su, tested by the shadows of his monstrous side, seemed to grow stronger as you faced the challenges together.
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lilacstro · 4 months ago
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understanding draconic charts
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This was another finger breaking post, maybe because my fingers are already tired. I am starting another diploma in astrology very soon so I would not have much time to post at all, so I am trying to post some good information that should help someone :)
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history and significance:
Ok, so some people think of draconic charts as something related to past lives. Something we have carried from our past, while some people simply believe it is the chart of soul.
In traditional western astrology, the meanings some people relate it to, become different, in modern western astrology they are different again, and then there comes a significant difference when we see them from a vedic pov
draconic, is talking about dragon. The head of the dragon (North Node or Rahu) is benefic in traditional western astrology while the Tail of dragon was considered malefic and a nature of mars and saturn as to what Guido Bonnati says in his book Tractaurus Territus.
However, contrary to any such difference of nature made in traditional astrology, modern astrologer dane rudhyar, rather talks about the north node as mouth of the dragon, so something that we need to eat (or learn and consume) while the tail of dragon as evacuatory organ and something that we are supposed to leave behind
Vedic astrology, however, does this classification very much differently. The Rahu, is a significance of material wealth, mysticism, fear, confusion while Ketu represents spirituality, Rahu is the head of a demon, and not really a dragon and ketu is the torso of the same demon, Swarbhanu who disguised himself into the line of the hindu gods, devas, to get amrit or the nectar that makes one immortal. Vishnu, was the one distributing the nectar disguised as Mohini, a beautiful women, and as soon as he paid attention that it is actually a disguised demon drinking the amrit, he sent his chakra to disassociate his head from his body in an attempt to stop him, but the nectar already went down his throat making him immortal. Hence, this is why his body is still said to be revolving in the celeste and the cause of solar and lunar eclipses, especially in natal charts when it tightly aspects or conjuncts either Sun or Moon, the effects of which is another topic of discussion for someday else.
coming back, you can see how different each meanings are in different perspectives, but for today, we will be seeing how can your draconic chart affect you as a person.
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how are they calculated:
Draconic charts are made by setting North Node in Aries/South Node in Libra at zero degrees and hence adjusting other celestial bodies in your chart accordingly. The zero degrees is probably to imply the starting of your soul's journey.
if you are interested to know the mathematical calculation, you basically subtract the degree of your natal North Node from other degrees of your planets.
let us see an example to calculate draconic sun
NORTH NODE = 28° 10' 30" CANCER (118° 10' 30")
TROPICAL SUN = 9° 39'47" VIRGO (159° 39' 47")
DRACONIC SUN = 159° 39' 47" -118°10' 30"= 41°29' 17" = 11° 29' 17" TAURUS (i am assuming you guys are aware of calculations done in degrees and minutes :) )
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Interpretation
the chart is based very closely on the moon since the nodes create the chart so in a normal natal chart the nodes are called the nodes of the Moon and it's because the nodes are determined based on where the sun meets the moon on the ecliptic. So if you imagine the orbit of the sun and the orbit of the moon they cross at two points and those become the nodes and they're always opposite of each other they never move one faster than the other they are always synchronized.
so interpret your draconic chart elements as if they were conjunct to the moon.
Look below:
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Compared to how our natal chart focuses on sun, the draconic is more focused on moon. So for example, if you have a Taurus Moon in draconic and a Pisces Sun in natal, your Taurus energy emotions would be expressed through your Pisces Sun.
It is important to remember everyone's North Node and South Node is in Aries and Libra in draconic, while different in natal chart. We should also keep in mind to pay extra attention to the conjunctions moon and nodes makes (it shows heightened energy) and oppositions (it shows challenges)
Draconic charts more so show our shadow, subconscious self (just like the moon), things and behaviors that may not be suspected in our natal chart, things we do for no reason at times.
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Interpretation of planets:
while it would not be possible to cover each and every method of interpretation for draconic charts, I would try to explain as much as possible.
The Draconic Sun: your true light and soul essence
The Draconic Moon: your soul's desire and seat of the soul
The Draconic Ascendant: the way your soul approaches its lifetimes
The Draconic Descendant: the relationships you seek; reflection of your soul
The Draconic IC: your soul's beliefs/truths
The Draconic MC: your soul's mission/purpose
The Draconic Mercury: how your soul communicates through to you; input information
The Draconic Venus: how you feel loved and show love; your values
The Draconic Mars: your passion and what gets you excited
The Draconic Jupiter: your spiritual connection; exploring and learning
The Draconic Saturn: your soul's structure and what restricts it; karma
The Draconic Uranus: your soul's originality and quirks
The Draconic Neptune: your hidden shadows
The Draconic Pluto: your personal power and healing abilities; taboo traits
basically, everything, but from a soul's prespective.
Let us take Joe Biden's chart for example.
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tropical and draconic
the tropical natal chart’s Ascendant ruler in the 8th house points to transformative and especially power related themes in his external life, while the Draconic Ascendant ruler in Cancer suggests a spiritual emphasis on nurturing, emotional sensitivity, and connections to home and family in his soul’s journey. This placement implies that his higher purpose and karmic connections may revolve around caring for others, exploring the mysteries of his roots, and deepening emotional connections. (credits: medium.com)
now again you interpret the signs the same way, but just fold things into what your soul and inner shadows want, and what your automatic feelings and behaviors could mean because there are aspects that become hidden in the natal chart but are seen further in the draconic charts.
for example, oprah winfrey's draconic moon is in aquarius and she indeed someone who is into NGOs, chatitable work and all that kind of stuff.
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going beyond mundane interpretations
So when we superimpose both the natal and draconic charts, the angles, planets and houses that the draconic chart makes to our natal, can provide reasons for our conscious behaviors and what comes from "our prior conditioning"
let us see an example. Margret Atwood. She is a Canadian Writer. Looking at her chart, can you guess what kind of things she must write?
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her venus and mercury both are in 7th house in Sagittarius, so should it not be happy go lucky things? optimistic or even say, religious things? No she instead writes on feminism, power and politics.
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Let us see her draconic chart
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what do we see folks? her ascendant is in scorpio, alright makes sense. And the ruler of her draconic Ascendant, pluto lies in her third and her draconic mars conjuncts her natal pluto, which further drives her to take initiatives on these kinds of things, since pluto alone in 3rd could also cause wanting to hide such things or probably not being so strong and upfront about it.
also see her draconic mercury and venus lie so near to her natal Uranus, so say rebelling through writing and arts. You can see the covers of her books and they are indeed like so.
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So basically, whatever houses our draconic charts coincide with, it becomes an important point of attention to us.
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Let us see the chart of BTS Jungkook:
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his draconic MC is on overlapping his IC. and we know Jungkook has been giving auditions and became a trainee when he was really young. His career started when he was child basically.
there are many more of observations I see, but we are not specifically doing his chart analysis so we will move on
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The house that our draconic/tropical 12th and tropical/draconic 12th overlap to, those houses can show where we may see struggles in.
let us see angelina jolie for example
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her tropical 12th house coincides with her draconic 8th, and we know she did and does struggle with depression, mental health and such issues in her life. Even more beautiful, her both tropical and draconic MC are in each others 5th house, and she is indeed working in the entertainment industry.
Stephen hawkings had this overlap in his 6th house, and his health was indeed something that troubled him for the time he lived
we can also predict life events through transitory draconic charts, but it will get a little over head and advanced so we will not be covering it. Covid, Kobe Bryant's accident and some other things were predicted through transitory draconic charts. You can also see karmic relationships and your goals as souls together or what you invoke deeply in each other through draconic synastry charts. People have used this for multiple celeb couples, including Former Prince Harry and Meghan Markle.
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Astrologer Maria Blaquier during her workshop at Kepler School for draconic charts says, that we can relate more to our south node moon at times, and I would want a few of you to confim this too!! For example, if you have a moon in Taurus in draconic, it becomes a moon in scorpio as a south node moon.
However, she further said that a few of her clients tend to say that they used to previously embody their south node moon and now relate to the nn moon, so this relates more to the modern astrological point of nodes that we discussed at the start.
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i would also suggest paying close attention to tight aspects and conjuctions between your draconic and natal planets. Let us see an example from my friend's chart.
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she has her draconic sun really tightly aspecting her natal Neptune, and no matter what happens, she is never interested in hitting someone back even when they do her wrong, and is very spiritual by nature.
now let us see how her natal pluto and draconic moon are at very close orbs, and she is indeed someone who is explosive and destructive when she is mad, or running high on emotions, her natal chart have littlest to no evidence of having this kind of rage.
I hope you all enjoyed this post.
support me on ko-fi :)
paid readings are open xoxo
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sunafc · 3 months ago
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Caught in the web – 10, can't cheat
masterlist
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It was the first day of classes after the training camp, Yachi had Y/n’s suit fixed during the weekend and the hero couldn’t wait to wear it again. Y/n had skipped her manager duties to go for a swing through the city, leaving the team with yet another dumb excuse and asking Suna to get her bag because she couldn’t possibly bring it with her.
Now Y/n is sitting on top of the gym’s roof, feet dangling and fingers tapping away on her phone. As she spots Suna and the twins exiting the gym, she’s quick to place the phone in a pocket in her suit and jump down. She follows them from afar, waiting for the twins to leave so she can walk with Suna.
The three guys are talking animatedly about who knows what, Y/n can’t hear them from where she’s standing. She watches as Suna says something that irritates Atsumu right away, gaining a loud laugh from Osamu. The girl gets closer as they reach the point where their roads split. Suna would now cross the road while the twins would continue on the left.
Atsumu says something that Y/n can’t quite pick up and he gets an eye roll from Suna who waves his hand, ‘See you tomorrow,’ he says and turns around to step into the street without really checking his surroundings.
Suna hears a clacson and he hears the twins screaming his name then in less than a second, from the middle of the street, he’s back on the sidewalk. There’s an arm around his waist and the twins both have a shocked expression plastered on their faces.
‘Woah there, be more careful when you cross the street,’ Y/n removes her arm from Suna’s body, ‘You’re too pretty to walk into traffic,’ she says — Atsumu’s mouth drops.
‘Right,’ Suna says, avoiding the girl face, trying his hardest to hide his flustered state, ‘Whatever, what are you even doing here?’
‘I was just passing by–’
‘Yer Spiderman!’ Atsumu points at the hero in disbelief.
‘Close that mouth, flies will get in,’ Osamu says to his brother, ‘Don’t mind him,’ he says to the hero.
‘Shut up, Samu!’ Atsumu snaps.
Y/n chuckles at that before deciding it’s been enough time around the twins, they might get the idea that spiderman is way too similar to some girl they know pretty well. ‘It was nice meeting you two, time to go now,’ she smiles awkwardly then turns to Suna, ‘Should I accompany you home?’
‘There’s no need,’ he mutters, still embarrassed by what happened earlier.
‘I’ll still do it,’ she says, ‘None of us would want you to get run over now, would we?’ she then furns to the twins who nods eagerly at her, ‘See? Your friends agree.’
‘Alright,’ Suna sighs — and then throws a glare at his friends — ‘But no swinging,’ he says.
The girls scoffs, ‘No swinging,’ she waves at the twins then starts walking away with Suna by her side.
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notes:
– kuroo is weird
– that conversation abt the lemon is something that actually happened with my friends bc i love eating lemons (without the peel bc i'm normal) and my partner actually enjoys to only eat the peel (yea they're insane)
– suna was in fact freaking out inside bc spiderman (y/n) saved him
– and bc spiderman (y/n) flirted with him
– samu is so smart (but also so not smart at the same time)
– so this makes atsumu the only one in the trio that doesn't know of spiderman's identity
– suna was maybe a little tiny bit jealous
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snowleopardcrk · 4 months ago
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more symbolism!!!
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ah yes, more Midnight Lily, a silverbell cameo and two Moonflower doodles. AU by @cuppajj
For Moonflowers story, we have her main conflict with her father, Saint Vanilla Cookie. But what about Midnight Lily Cookie, her mother? To give a little context for whats coming up, Moonflowers story theming around the Saint where Moonflower symbolizes the Moon, which includes the Solar Eclipse to contrast the Saints light themed imagery. Plus Moonflowers additional and more religious theming being based on the Spirit of Apostasy.
It is abundantly clear that Midnight Lily is an enabler of the other Neo Beasts, while to some extent understandable as she is the weakest of the Neo Beasts (she has long crossed the line of it being acceptable).
To compliment well with the general religious theming, I did additional research into the role of a mother in the lens of the Bible. 'the mother is one who "binds" the family together, holding them together individually and collectively through her love and actions' Despite how broken the family is, the only remaining connection that Moonflower has with the Saint IS Midnight Lily. And in return, she does care for her daughter and the Saint at some level. Yet, she does nothing to genuinely mend what has been broken (no one is, Moonflower is afraid of her father and the Saint is so delusional that he believes that this is the best course of action to save everyone). This fits her pattern of enabling and being generally passive to the world around her, for the most part.
Another aspect that I have neglected to mention is her slow-burn of a plan, she seeks by the end to have the others at least playing by her rules, but also not liking when her children do things she does not like. This is now territory where I do a lot of guess work and personal thoughts n' research so this is very much subject to change if anymore gets revealed.
How I have understood the few tidbits we get about the Beast of Sovereignty, she is an enabler and insecure about being the weakest. And I think her insecurity in some way, even if unintentional may reflect on her relationships where she is the one in power. In general, she is fine with her kids, generally passive until they get too unruly. At that point, she will remind them with harsh words who the mother is. I'd like to note quickly, she will NEVER get physical. She only uses WORDS. It is also important to note that she does wish for her child to understand where she is coming from. She is an enabler because she holds little power over the beasts, but in dynamics where she is the one in power, this side vanishes for the most part. Despite valuing sovereignty I believe she still wants to retain some level of control so Cookies don't do things she does not like. This is generally in line with how leadership generally operate, they don't care when you're doing smth positive, but when it turns negative, that's when it starts turning sour.
As for the actual arc of Midnight Lily and Moonflower, I have a general framing but it is difficult to make something as substantial as the one she has with Saint Vanilla. Gotta wait until I get more lore and story for the gal. But in short, it is a conflict of the two trying to make each other understand their respective sides. With Moonflower trying to save her mother, her only remaining parental figure from being a beast- while Midnight Lily seeks to make Moonflower truly understand her side and hopefully have Moonflower join her permanently.
Heres other tidbits for Moonflower and her relationship with the Creme Republic. For her ventures to the Silver Kingdom are actually secret. She is a very powerful and talented magic user (similar to her parents), so her travelling long distances quickly is very possible. Moonflower is already an outcast in the Republic, it is well known who her parents are. And Cookies keep their distance, there are very few Cookies who come and check in her. Its mostly some scientists who are researching the neo beasts (espresso, maybe, depends on his condition in this au), Clotted Cream Cookie, GingerBrave, Financer (sort of, she tags along the Consul) and depending on the direction of the story, Madelaine Cookie(I will start really brewing something here once more stuff comes out~). She stays isolated in her lab in the undercity, she never comes out, and when she does, she hides her face and just retrieves things like food or research material. It is normal for her to not talk with anyone for well over a week with nothing but a single lost Raisin Crow to keep her company. I'd like to note that this raisin crow is now an albino, and Black Raisin tasked Moonflower to take care of it since it was bullied and ousted by the other raisin crows (I took inspo from the myth, but it is generally agreed that white color corvids are subordinate to the colored ones).
But she is also an outcast in the silver kingdom, despite being Midnight Lilys kid (its a well known fact), she has gotten into disagreements with their monarch and isn't the upmost loyal member- she has a strong stigma around her. Silverbell Cookie does take pity on Moonflower.
That's all for now. I'm gonna lay down, I've done so much research...I silently weep at the thought of fully showing the complexity of the three in full force.
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inamindfarfaraway · 3 months ago
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“Our family was shattered forever.” Let’s delve into the two images accompanying this line, shall we?
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Before the shattering:
Soren is looking up at Viren, who saved his life and he chose to stay with, for comfort, guidance or connection. Viren doesn’t reciprocate, fixated on the loss of his wife. The staff of Ziard, which Viren used to imprison K’ppar and Aaravos crafted for his pawns, is a barrier dividing them that Viren actively holds in place.
Viren and Soren are framed inside the arch furthest away and Claudia to a lesser degree inside the nearer arch, enclosed in the wall, the structure of their family home. They are trapped. Lissa is free. She even blocks part of the wall and archway, visually overpowering it.
Lissa has an arm raised to her chest defensively, no longer feeling safe around Viren; Soren’s arms hang passively at his side; Viren’s posture is stiff, one hand on his staff and the other behind his back (as he’s becoming a more emotionally repressed and manipulative person who doesn’t always want to show his hand, so to speak); and Claudia’s are desperately, futilely reaching out to Lissa.
The children are both between their parents. Claudia is closer to Lissa, alone in her section of the frame. Soren is right next to Viren, making their height difference and power dynamic more obvious.
Claudia is in Viren’s shadow, which is framed as a bridge between Viren and Lissa in this brief instant before Lissa takes another step - darkness connects to her to her family. As with Soren, Viren doesn’t show any interest in her. Unlike Soren, her distance from him is her choice. She’s running ahead of him in the direction he’s facing, like in his dark magic dream where she follows in his footsteps and then surpasses him.
Claudia’s left leg is barely visible under her dress, looking almost like the stump it will eventually be reduced to.
Only Lissa and Claudia are crying. A link has recently been established between tears and dark magic, and while Lissa had a bodily fluid harvested for a spell against her will, Claudia will volunteer her blood when a spell demands it.
The light is literally behind the family with shadow surrounding them, indicating sunrise or sunset. Sunset would be most thematically appropriate for the last memory of the whole family, but it would make sense for Lissa to start her long journey at dawn in a time and place with such limited artificial illumination (especially without the use of dark magic). It is a new dawn for her as an independent woman, after all.
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After the shattering:
The point of origin is Lissa, as her decisions to divorce Viren and let the children choose who to live with, leading to Viren raising them on his own, define the new state of the family. All the cracks radiate outward from her forehead, her mind, and she’s by far the most fractured. That’s a worrying picture of her mental health. The cracks break and distort her family and their home, but she cannot see this and clearly doesn’t intend it.
The same crack crosses through Soren and Viren and another vertical one descends part of the way between them as well. It hasn’t fully divided them yet, but it will.
Soren is gone except for his legs and head. His head - still searching for something in his father - is even lower and further away from Viren. None of the others are diminished like this. The imagery of a severed head and missing torso full of vital organs ironically evokes death, despite his preserved life and perfect health. Viren doesn’t kill him, but he will destroy much of his spirit.
Viren is almost completely duplicated, in contrast to Soren being eclipsed. His copy is fainter, shorter and overlaps partly with Soren’s legs, as if he’s replacing his son and the man he might grow into with a vision of himself. Perhaps he’s in two minds about the path he’s chosen? Or beside himself with grief under that cold exterior? He takes up more space, but is also broken and trapped more tightly in the fractures. Like Soren, part of him is lost; he’s the only one to have what appears to be a missing shard interrupt his depiction with a slice of nothingness, reflecting the piece of his soul that he’s turned into a black void. The head of his staff being above Soren’s legs represents dark magic replacing Viren’s relationship with his son in his life.
Claudia is actually intact, but a duplication of one of her legs is cut off. This may reference how she will duplicate her lower limbs into five tentacles and then have one of those cut off, Rayla probably thinking it was an extra that wouldn’t correlate to her human leg. Like Viren, she’s boxed in by the cracks, which draw lines between her and the rest of her family on all sides. Viren and Soren share a shard with Lissa, but Claudia doesn’t. Her indecisiveness has left her even more isolated.
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zumicho · 5 months ago
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home┊prologue┊002
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001: iced lemon loaves & self deprecating humor
© zumicho all rights reserved. do not repost, modify, steal, plagiarize, or translate my works on any platform.
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cw: language, mentions “maul” “die” & sexual jokes
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“do you not have any friends?” a tousled head of dirty blond stands before you, his toned arms crossed over his chest. it’s only been five minutes; he’s already cutting five years off of your lifespan.
there’s a heartbreaker kind of look in his eyes that warns you to avoid him. you ignore it. “that’s an odd question to ask a stranger.” he’s not your type anyway; it doesn’t matter how much he pesters you.
“we don’t have to be strangers.” he stretches his hand out. “I’m miya atsumu, and my friend thinks you’re hot.” friendly (suspicious), you shake it.
“you or your friend?”
as he opens his mouth to reply, the door chimes cut him off. three people walk in. one is trailing behind the two—defeated, like he’s failed a mission. you look at the one that talked to you, and then to him. twins, you note. this one’s got better hair.
there’s a reserved figure that walks ahead of them with an air of authority around him. the captain? you wonder, noticing the sport uniforms. he bows at you politely. you like this one.
“don’t listen to him.” the third person speaks up, and your mouth goes agape. he’s gorgeous. “sorry on his behalf.” he’s perfect.
“do you all play soccer or something?” you wince at their reactions.
“volleyball, actually.” — twin #1.
“oh! my bad!!!” you pale. god. “that’s cool. cool cool cool. cool.”
“cool with you if we get something to eat?” god’s favorite teases, all the others staring at you both. your ears turn a deeper shade of red each second.
“..huh?” you blank.
“oh. RIGHT. um, what can I get you?” you want to crawl in a hole and die, but hiding behind the counter will do for now.
you hear crickets as atsumu opens his mouth. “your number?”
“for suna here.” he adds as he gestures.
he clearly can handle himself, “ignore him. I’m not in the market for any relationships. nor am I interested.”
miya glares at him. “that’s mean, man. she looks disappointed.”
“I’m not.” you correct. “even if I was, it’s not like I’d have a chance.” your lips move faster than your brain.
“talk about self deprecating humor.” gray-haired twin #2 smiles at you, considerate. that lets your shoulders relax a bit.
“this is all really awkward,” suna says, “but we could really use some cupcakes or something.”
the captain steps up, and you maybe unintentionally notice that suna’s the tallest. “can we please get those cookies that were on twitter? if it’s not a problem.” he’s formal.
“sure. how many?”
“four.” the twins echo.
“make that three.” — s
you look up at him, confused. “you don’t want anything?”
“those look good.”
you follow his line of sight, and grin. iced lemon loaves.
“yeah. good pick.”
────────────────────────
author’s note: i made tsumu the punchline / punching bag in this au but oh well 😭 it had to be someone 😭 i also hate writing the embarassed / nervous character SO MUCH i cringe while i write.. i really don’t like this episode but idk what about my writing irks me here and IDK WHAT TO CHANGEEE i need 2 learn how to write dialogue better cause im DYINGGGGHHH OVER HERE
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@phoenix-eclipses @thechaosoflonging @yuminako @nbcvs @tenjikusstuff4 @intergalacticrory @sonicsolos @yenonnoff @wyrcan @cnnmairoll @causenessus @reads-stuff-quietly @giocriedpower @applepi25 @gra-eae @lilchubbyyy @thvvluvr @toges-cough-syrup
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mokulule · 6 months ago
Text
Almanac Chapter 5
DP x DC Dead on Main First | Masterpost
Chapter 5 - December 10th, Total Lunar Eclipse
Time passed. Jason still dreamt of Gotham, little glimpses of his siblings patrolling the Alley viewed through the ever present fog. Never Bruce, never Batman.
Jason really didn’t know how to interpret those dreams. Was it wistful thinking to dream that Batman stayed out of the Alley, like Red Hood demanded? That they kept going as if Jason would be coming back? As if he was just temporarily on a mission out of town?
Or was it just his brain refusing to touch the tangled ball of emotion Bruce evoked even in his dreams?
Thankfully, none of the Alley dreams had been near as dramatic as that first nightmare. Jason was pretty sure he’d go insane if that happened, it was bad enough that first nightmare haunted him in his waking hours. He couldn’t let go the feeling that Dick had been hurt.
That it was his fault for not being there.
It was far from the first time he’d ever dreamt of Dick or one of the others getting hurt, but usually he could just do a check-up, agree to one of the multiple social invitations he most often ignored. Reassure himself they were alive, unhurt and just as obnoxious as usual and go on with his life.
He didn’t have that option.
If they died, would they come find him? He harshly pushed that thought away and focused back on Fright Knight. Not focusing properly on Fright Knight usually meant broken ribs and he was only just in time to jump aside.
One positive was that the conversation about the All-Blades had won him a measure of respect from the Knight. He’d acquired a paired set of practice blades that he now allowed Jason to use like now, though he still drilled and taught the use of a singular broadsword.
It made the training more varied, and dare Jason say it, sometimes even enjoyable. Even if Jason had the distinct feeling Fright Knight wanted to train him for the single purpose of beating him in a more even match.
The knight had even on one memorable occasion admitted that Jason might have beaten him when he was first unsealed some years ago, before he’d regained his full strength. But of course as he was now with his “mortal weaknesses” Jason didn’t stand a chance.
Still, Jason was improving. He could feel it. He had an easier time following the pace the Knight set and it wasn’t just the Knight moving at a more human speed. The fact that with the two sword style he could now attack and defend with both hands also helped bridge the gap.
Jason attacked with a downward slash, instantly dancing around the counter.
“You are not a ghost,” Fright Knights started, “but your ghostly energy is strong enough to afford you some powers. Of course not to the level of our King.”
Jason frowned, not understanding the necessity to compare him to the King. He decided to focus on the important fact. “What powers?”
“Merely the most basic.”
“That is entirely unhelpful.” Jason stepped forward and caught the overhead slash in a cross-guard before stepping to the side directing it to the ground.
“Ghost powers: invisibility, intangibility and if you’re lucky some measure of flight,” the knight elaborated haughtily.
And okay, maybe Jason felt a bit stupid now for not realizing what he’d meant with basic powers.
He dodged this time instead of blocking and stepped within the knight’s reach aiming his blade for an unprotected armpit. As if in demonstration the sword went right through him in a ripple, before he solidified and drove his armored shoulder into Jason’s chest, knocking him to the ground.
His breath was knocked out of him and for a moment he stared up into the building lunar eclipse steadily coloring the moon an ominous red-orange.
Then, he had to move!
He rolled out of the way of the downward stab and pushed himself back up to his feet, just in time to deflect another blow. The knight had upped the speed.
“What’s the point of mentioning these potential powers?” He said as he dodged another way too close call - hoping against hope to distract the knight. 

“You should use them.” Fright Knight said with another slash which Jason was fool enough to parry. The force of the blow reverberated up his arm and it was only sheer stubbornness that allowed him to hold onto the blade. He was not going to be able to swing the blade for a while.
“Shouldn’t you teach me then?” Jason yelled behind himself as he ran, he had to get distance. He had to come up with a plan.
Fright Knight laughed menacingly, and his eyes blazed green. “Powers develop best under stress.”
Jason felt himself pale. Oh shit.
Breathlessly he dodged into a doorway. The open courtyard was only an advantage for an opponent who could fly. He needed somewhere good for an ambush, somewhere to hide. His heart hammered in his chest as he ran through the castle, trying for the most complicated path he could, slamming doors after him to slow the chasing knight down.
Come on come on come on!
Phantom had told Fright Knight to keep him alive, but that was a really wide set of parameters in Jason’s experience!
The hallway curved and suddenly Jason slammed against a wall - a dead end. No no no. He cursed internally knowing too well to say anything out loud. His hands moved desperately across the stone wall; there was no hint of a secret path forward and he didn’t have time to double back. Fright Knight’s ominous laughter was too close and this hallway was too cramped to give him much movement.

The castle still disliked him.
Fright Knight came around the corner, he loomed bigger than Jason was used to. There was no escape. What wasn’t blocked with his body was blocked by the purple flames of his cloak. He drew back his sword.
“The chase is over.”
Desperately he raised his arms, though his right arm still felt dead and wouldn’t be of any use.
The sword rushed down towards him.
He screamed and then he was falling backwards, through the wall, through the floor. And another floor, floor after floor after floor. He rolled and tumbled, trying to reach for anything to stop his fall, but everything slipped through his fingers. He’d lost his swords somewhere unable to hold on to them - never lose grip on your weapons - but he hadn’t they’d gone through his fingers. This was intangibility, but how to stop it!
Stress had triggered it, he needed to calm down. Breathe slowly, count: one - two - three -
A staircase rushed up to meet him. He hit it, painfully solid. Something gave in his shoulder and then his ribs when he curled instinctively to protect his head as he tumbled the rest of the way down.
He finally landed on a cold stone floor. There was a sense of alarm around him. Not his own, no, he was just glad to no longer be moving; even if his right shoulder hurt like a bitch and he definitely had broken ribs, but he wasn’t too out of breath so probably not a punctured lung. Grimacing from the pain he pushed his upper body up with his left hand and looked around.
First rule was always know your surroundings.
There was a sarcophagus, black with green and red detailing, in the middle of the room, lit only by flickering green torchlight. There was something there. A green haze lazily swirled across the floor.
Help.
Help? Jason got to his feet with a groan. He felt so heavy. Supporting his right arm with his left he walked slowly closer to the sarcophagus. Had he seen it before? Before he could contemplate further there was the voice again.
I’m trapped.
There was someone inside the sarcophagus! Jason studied it closer, noticing a keyhole. He looked around but there didn’t seem to be any key.
Help me and I will get you home.
Home. The thought sent a pang through his chest. He wanted to go home so desperately. But he didn’t know how to help. There had to be a key somewhere, but it would be stupid to keep it here. It could be anywhere in the castle, not that the castle would help him anyway.
His eyes fell on where his left hand cradled his arm. He let go with a wince at the extra bad throb in his broken shoulder and raised his left hand in front of his face. An idea niggled at him. Would it even do anything? He didn’t know. He recalled the sensation of slipping through solid matter and saw his hand go slightly translucent.
Could he?
Slowly he reached towards the sarcophagus-
“Jason don’t!”
Jason snapped his head to the side. The King hovered at the bottom of the stairs now, hands raised in a calming motion.
“Jason don’t,” he repeated quieter, a note of pleading in his voice, worry.
Two things occurred to Jason in that fraction of a moment. One, if the Ghost King was worried whatever was in this sarcophagus might actually have the power to send him home. Two, this intangibility might just do something.
He plunged his hand into the sarcophagus.
For a moment nothing happened. It was a long enough moment for Jason to feel like an idiot, standing there with his broken arm and the other phased into a freaking sarcophagus.
Then, an odd cold-hot sensation passed up his left arm. He was displaced, put in the back seat of his own body as something else took the wheels.
Good, now let’s take a look at what we’ve got.
The sensation left faster than it had arrived and Jason had only barely taken a breath with lungs that were his own again, before a massive fist grabbed him around the throat and lifted him off his feet. His hands reached instinctively to remove the pressure around his throat. The cry of pain at moving his broken shoulder was only a wheeze past the chokehold. His left arm was just as useless the hold wouldn’t budge, no matter how he scrabbled and dug in his nails in for purchase.
“I can’t believe it took me this long to call this pitiful creature,” the voice boomed both inside and outside Jason.
A huge grey, scarred face missing the left eye came into Jason’s blurry vision. There was only cruelty to be found there.
”Ah, you didn’t bind his will.” The great head turned, revealing a mane of Lazarus green hair. “Tell me, Phantom, do you like your slaves disobedient? Is that why?”
“He is no slave,” the king, Phantom growled, tightly controlled. Glaciers cracked in the distance and when Jason tried looking at him he wasn’t sure if it was just his blurry vision or if he was blending into the darkness around him. “Let him go!”
That last word rang in Jason’s head like a bell rung right right next to his ears.
“But don’t you see, ghost child? This mortal’s life belongs to the Ghost King. The fact that I could call to him at all proves I am still the king. I will kill him and you can watch, before I take my crown back.”
The hold on his throat tightened. Jason kicked and scratched but nothing helped. He couldn’t breathe. Dark spots danced in his vision, growing with every moment. Noise rushed in his ears. He was- he was going to die!
No! He had to do something- he couldn’t let it end like this.
The hold loosened suddenly and Jason fell to his knees. He gasped, drew air into his burning chest. It was only his training that had him instantly tracking for what had happened. He blinked and squinted until his vision cleared.
Above him Phantom had the old ghost king’s wrist in a large white tipped clawed hand, he tightened his grip and the giant man fell to one knee with a grimace.
Phantom’s grin was too wide, full of too many pointy teeth, as he seemed to grow, and loomed over him.
“You miscalculated Pariah,” Phantom snarled, form rippling, cape flaring. “I am no longer fourteen year old and newly dead. Just because some mortal realities have not been updated on the change in power, doesn’t mean shit!”
He paused to lean his head closer.
“I am the King of the Infinite Realms, and the Realms are behind me.”
Jason found himself grabbed gently in dark tendrils and moved towards the wall, even as Phantom continued his verbal onslaught:
“You’ve lost your crown, your power and your loyalty. You are no king and never will be again.”
“Please,” Pariah begged, terror in his eyes.
“No. Jason traded his life to me. He is under my protection. You harmed him, you will never harm another being ever again.”
The next several moments was a whirlwind of too many claws and teeth for Jason’s mind to comprehend. Too many eyes. Green spattered wetly across the floors, the walls, the ceiling, and across Jason’s face to drip down his chin.
And the screams, oh God, the screams. It was entirely one-sided and the screams chilled Jason to the core. For all that he was no longer in a chokehold he might as well have been, because no sound, no breath could make its way out the tightness in his throat.
Finally something bright and glowing red ripped free sent flying by long fingered claws, for a moment it floated above them weightless, then Phantom’s great big maw slammed shut around it.
It crunched.
And for one dazzling second, the screams quieted. Then the whole castle shuddered. Jason covered his mouth, afraid he was going to vomit. He didn’t even know what about it caused that reaction, he wasn’t usually squeamish with violence. Only his gut told him he had witnessed something terrible.
The silence was loud in the room only broken by the occasional drop of green that fell from the ceiling to land on the cobblestone floor with loud plops.
The writhing mass of shadows and claws had stilled into a dark vaguely humanoid hunched figure. The black tendrils laid flat and motionless like a long, tattered cape spread across the floor. The glowing neon green pool left from what used to be Pariah was vivid against the black.
The tendrils around Jason didn’t hold him in place anymore, just rested one him. Still, he couldn’t bring himself to move. One tendril moved then, stroking gently and infusing soothing cold against Jason’s bruised throat. Jason gasped quietly and it was like his first real breath in hours.
“I refuse to regret it,” Phantom’s voice said then coming from all around, yet moving Jason’s attention from the tendril to the figure. “Ending another ghost is taboo for a reason. But-“ The figure turned the head revealing a pair of burning green eyes even as hundreds opened up into existence around them, all looking at Jason - perceiving him.
“He threatened you.”
Jason’s breath stopped again. There was something to be said there. Something about how the king had committed taboo for Jason. Something about how he had not just stopped the threat for now, locked it back up to escape another day; he had ended it.
Jason had never been worth that before.
There was a building pressure behind his eyes and in his chest. It was a tidal wave of old hurts. He fought against the urge to cry. Despite his efforts, a whimper escaped the back of his throat. Mortified, he closed his eyes and pressed back against the wall, he couldn’t look at Phantom’s reaction. He was terrified of judgment, or worse: pity.
“I am sorry.” His voice was but a whisper this time, as if it would prevent it from resonating in Jason’s bones. “I know I am too much, but I cannot reign it in right now.”
The tendril at his neck seemed to tremble as it stroked his bruised throat again ever so careful. “I thought- I feared I would be too late,” he explained.
And suddenly Jason realized, Phantom thought he was afraid of him. He could sense his fear, he’d told Jason once, but he couldn’t tell what he was afraid of. And yes, Jason had been afraid once, you don’t nearly have your brain melted without some sort of response, but that was not the case now. Jason couldn’t let that misunderstanding stand.
The tendrils were retreating. Jason grabbed the one that had been at his throat and forcing himself to meet what seemed to be the main pair of eyes he pressed it back to his throat.
Something passed between them, something Jason couldn’t describe. The air itself both softened and sharpened in intensity. Phantom floated closer. The tendrils were back, cold and soothing. If Jason reached out now he could touch the main darkness that was Phantom. It would take so little. Phantom’s eyes were wide and vulnerable. Jason’s breath hitched.
Something had to give.
“Great One!” A deep voice boomed in horror from the stairs, breaking the moment.
Phantom snapped his head towards the intruder. Jason gasped for air. It felt like he’d been dropped into an ice bath so suddenly was every ache and pain in his body brought back - his shoulder outright throbbed - only nothing had happened, nothing, except Phantom’s attention was no longer on him.
“Frostbite, Jason needs medical attention!” Phantom’s voice was full of relief, his features morphed gradually back into the facsimile of human he usually wore though he still seemed extra wispy. The tendrils however were gone.
Phantom’s attention turned back on Jason, he didn’t see the way the large white furred and horned creature looked around the green soaked room in fear.
Phantom made to reach for him with clawless hands, then drew back embarrassed, actually floating a step back.
“Apologies,” he said. Jason could almost see the way he turned back into the distant king straightening his shoulders and schooling his face into impassivity, like a cloak he wore - or armor. Protecting the vulnerability Jason had glimpsed.
Realizing no ‘Frostbite’ had come any closer, the king looked back over his shoulder, “Frostbite?”
“I’m coming, Great One.” The creature bowed his head as he made his way over carefully, floating to avoid the puddles.
Judging from the frown on Phantom’s face, that was not normal behavior.
“Frostbite…”
“No need to worry, Great One, I’ll make sure your friend is seen to. You can get back to the council.”
Phantom actually grimaced at that. Then he met Jason’s eyes for a heart stopping moment, holding him captive, then he looked away.
“I will see you later.”
Then he left, leaving Jason with whatever Frostbite was. One thing was sure though from the furrowed eyebrows and the sharp fangs bared at him - Frostbite didn’t like him.
-
A chapter finished! Look at me not working on my Dead on MAYn prompts -_-'
Anyways things are happening? Jason and Danny had a moment! Neither is really sure what kind of moment since they were interrupted, but hey, still a moment. I hope you enjoyed Pariah getting what was coming to him :) Anyways comments are greatly appreciated, makes it feel less like I'm screaming into the void.
(you can subscribe for updates at the masterpost)
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