#💖💖💖💕💓💕💓💕 girl peace

[xoxochb]

— late night reading 💌 ⋆˚࿔

“sweet girl.”

you snap out of your trance, blinking your eyes as you come back to reality. “hmm?”

“are you okay?”

percy wears a concerned frown. you can’t help but match his expression knowing that you were the leading cause to his distress.

“I’m okay.”

“are you sure?” he reaches out, giving you a peck on the cheek. when he pulls back, he takes both of your hands into his own, rubbing your knuckles soothingly.

you kiss one of percy’s cheeks. “I’m sure. I just stayed up late last night. you were out by nine but I couldn’t sleep.”

“you could’ve woken me up.”

you shake your head, toying with his fingers. “you looked peaceful.”

“what time did you fall asleep?”

“two…”

“and you woke up at ten.”

you nod, tiredly resting your head on percy’s chest. your entire body follows, curling into him subconsciously.

“you need to get some sleep, sweet girl.”

“I know. but I had to finish my book.”

percy untwines his hand from yours, using one to card his fingers through your hair. the action alone nearly sends you into a deep slumber. though you sigh contently at the comforting notion.

“you’re trying to make me fall asleep,” you mumble, voice muffled from the skin of his chest.

“insightful. and sexy. nice.”

“insightful?”

“yeah.” you hear percy’s smile through his voice. “you told me that word once.”

you tell him a lot of words. you often have him read ones from higher vocabulary to expand his knowledge of words. a few months ago you had began a thing where every sunday you would sit with percy and repeat words over to help his dyslexia after he’d complained about not being able to read your books with you.

you’re surprised he remembers half of them though. usually he ends up zoning out and staring at your lips halfway through your lesson. then he asks if your into the whole teacher-and-student trope.

“I didn’t think you’d remember it.”

“I remember everything you say to me.”

you grin in disbelief. “your lying.”

“promise I’m not. yesterday while you were eating lunch you said you wanted to ‘eat the ass of the guy who made this sandwich.’ direct quote.”

“‘was a really good sandwich.” your eyes flutter closed as the exhaustion begins hitting you.

“I know. you told me seven times.”

“hmm. interesting…”

percy presses a kiss against your forehead, sliding your hair out of your face and behind your ear. “sleep, sweet girl.”

you exhale slowly. soon enough you comply.

— this is literally nothing but I thought it was cute so here’s to all my fellow book girls who also stay up extraordinarily late to finish their books 😋😋💕💖💘💝💗💓💞

[kitwasheree]

girlfriend devil, kanojo

surprise !! i have girl ocs. and not something twst related for once !?!?!? No way....

these are just doodles, i'm working on writing her. she's like a devil that's your highschool sweetheart. new to public safety, a relatively humanoid and " friendly " devil. well as friendly as devils can get

MORE INFO ABOUT HER UNDER CUT !!!!

• she's sweet ( it's almost sickly, like a dessert that's so sweet it's kind of disgusting and it makes you feel bad because the dessert is supposed to be good, it's supposed to taste good, right?) and clingy. it doesn't matter your gender, she's overly friendly with you. this is both a good thing and a bad thing

• constant need for approval and attention. " Am I cute today? " " How about we eat at that ramen store after work? " she acts like a stereotypical girlfriend, regardless whether you want that or not. she'll tone it down if you ask, but then she'll suffocate you again. but it's because she loves you, is it not?

• temperamental. she gets upset, angry, jealous and possessive easily. it doesn't even have to be one specific person, but multiple. can and will get violent quickly. even if you are special to her.

• " friends ", " lovers " and " family " are concepts foreign to devils. to her, they are all the same, because that is love, right?

• her love is suffocating, but she does care about the people she loves. to her, whoever created devils must have been cruel, because a loved devil is a weak devil, and a feared devil is a lonely devil. which is why you must love her. isn't that what public safety wants? weakened and controlled devils. you must love her. she looks just like your girlfriend! you must love her. can't you see she's lonely? you must love her. till death do us part is for mortals, you've been married without even looking, and suddenly there is a thread around your ring finger. do not forget your vows.

[veras-caption-haven]

Happy Pride Month folks!

Peace and Love to all my LGBTQIA+ people out there!!!

Know that you are loved for who you are!!!

❤️ @cupcak ❤️ @cupcake-princess-em 🇫🇷 @sissydollyisabella 💛 @happy-sissy-madison 🙃 @ditzybrainlaira @pinkglamwendybimbo 💙 @kimberly-kash 💖 @veras-caption-haven 💓 @kimmythenewgirl💋 @incognitoelizabeth 🍼 @sissymissyxo 🥴 @honeyhornypup 🐶 @sweatersub 💞 @cassandra-the-baby-girl 😇 @goodwitchkylie 💖 @its-me-mandi-duhhh 😈 @cutieecassie 💚 @sleepy-bimbo-bambi-3 ♠️ @selenasgirltiffany21 🤍 @uneamifemme 💙 @leiamoony 🩷 @pinkyfaggyx 💞 @just-kailee 🎀 @sissyloren2 💖 @remygurl45 💕 @supremefaggotdestiny6912 💝 @karlie-xox 💟 @christina-tiara 👑 @cambrysissycaptions 🏳️‍🌈 @turngay4dualipa 🏳️‍⚧️ @beta-dreamsva ❤️ @2inchchelsea 🧡 @sienna-thee-sissy 💜 @goodgirlmadison ♠️ @stacey-xox-bimbo ❤️‍🔥 @elektrarose 💘 @jessigurll 😊 @wittle-dowwy 💋

[ditzybrainlaura]

Life was good, but something felt off. You didn't understand why. It felt like something needed to change. One day, a phone rings, a phone you've never heard ring before.

✨🩷 Wear Pink. Be Girly 🩷✨

You didn't think anything of it at first... It quickly became all you thought about. The desire to be pink was overwhelming. And what did they mean when they said "Be Girly"?

✨🩷 Accept who you are 🩷✨

Weeks had passed since the phone call... But you find yourself daydreaming about it still. You've started to wear more pink... Just like the voice said. You understand why they suggested it to you.. the whole outfit feels so energetic. You feel at home in pink. It quickly became your new favourite colour.

✨🩷 To be a girl 🩷✨

It started small at first.. you shaped your eyebrows, waxed your legs. So what? It's all reversible you said to yourself... But then, as the voice rang in your ears... You did more... Hormones, vocal training. Learning new mannerisms...

✨🩷 Journey's end🩷✨

You stand there, a completely different person to the start of it all. Your hair is longer; your body is softer. Your outfits are cuter. Noone even remembers your boy name anymore. You really did it. The journey is complete. You feel safe. You feel happy.

✨🩷 The Phone rings 🩷✨

Last time it rang, your life completely changed. Would this call be as life altering as before? There was only one way to find out. You take a deep breath, and pick up the phone. Last time you felt nervous. This time you feel at peace. You're a completely different person now. As you look in the mirror, you see femininity. You see happiness. You see relief.

"Thank you for listening to me" the voice says. Your heart melts. This unknown voice changed your life so positively. Now they are thanking you for doing so.

You realise you were talking to your subconscious. This was always who you wanted to be. That's why they thanked you. This was always what you wanted. 🩷✨

(I would love feedback, this is something different for me.)

🇫🇷 @sissydollyisabella 💛 @emily-in-seattle ✨ @happy-sissy-madison 🙃 @ditzybrainlaura 😍@pinkglamwendybimbo 💙 @kimberly-kash 💖 @veras-caption-haven 💓 @kimmythenewgirl💋 @incognitoelizabeth 🍼 @sissymissyxo 🥴 @honeyhornypup 🐶 @sweatersub 💞 @cassandra-the-baby-girl 😇 @goodwitchkylie 💖 @its-me-mandi-duhhh 😈 @cutieecassie 💚 @sleepy-bimbo-bambi-3 ♠️ @selenasgirltiffany21 🤍 @uneamifemme 💙 @leiamoony 🩷 @pinkyfaggyx 💞 @just-kailee 🎀 @sissyloren2 💖 @remygurl45 💕 @supremefaggotdestiny6912 💝 @karlie-xoxo 💟 @christina-tiara 🏳️‍⚧️ @beta-dreamsva 🏳️‍🌈 @2inchchelsea 🧡 @sienna-thee-sissy 💜 @goodgirlmadison ♠️ @stacey-xox-bimbo ❤️‍🔥 @elektrarose 💘 @jessigurll 😊 @wittle-dowwy 💋 @jade-the-princess 👸 @thessa-xox 👗

[baekhyunsbestie]

lisa sis 🩷🩷 this has been crazy lately + you're too good with words that's quite too much 🥵 wondering the exo's fave places to the extra quality time...... or their dream place???

love you love youuuuuuuu 🩷💞

(gotta read loverboy yet)

miaaa my sweetest sparklebug 🩷🩷 u always know how to hit me right in the feels w ur cute msgs 😭 and now you’ve got me spiraling over exo’s fave places for quality time like... girl 😮‍💨 k lets get into it!!!!

⟢ jongin

1000% private beach at sunset, soft blanket, sea breeze, no one around except you and him and maybe a lil dog. just vibing. he wants peace, cuddles, and aesthetic golden hour kisses 🐶🌅💕

⟢ chanyeol

forest cabin or mountain getaway guy. guitar in hand, campfire crackling, blankets, warm drinks, cuddles. he wants to be unplugged from the world and plugged into you instead. man’s out here tryna write a love song with ur laugh as the chorus 🥹

⟢ sehun

random road trips with no destination. he just wants to vibe w you, windows down, music up, snacks in the backseat. bonus points if there’s a beach stop at night where you run into the water fully clothed like dramatic fools 😩🌊

⟢ kyungsoo

a lil vineyard date. classy. quiet. you two sipping wine and talking for hours under fairy lights. then going home and cooking dinner together while he puts on that one playlist that makes you feel like a movie couple 🍷🍝

⟢ junmyeon

classy king. candlelit dinners, yacht dates, art museums, secret garden strolls. you blink and he’s already booked a 5-star stay in florence “for the aesthetic” but actually just wants to see you smile under italian sunlight 🫠💳💥

⟢ baekhyun

chaotic at first—arcade, karaoke, laser tag—but he melts for quiet rooftop nights. he wants to hold your hand while pointing at constellations and pretending he knows the names of the stars ✨ then giggles when he gets caught lying.

⟢ minseok

loves chill, quiet spots where he can just be with you. like a quaint cafe w cozy window seats, a quiet park with a trail no one knows about, or a night drive with music low and hands brushing on the gear shift.

⟢ yixing

oh my soft sweet dream man 🥹 he’d plan a surprise trip to somewhere meaningful—like a place you mentioned in passing that you’ve always wanted to visit. he remembers everything. he’d dance w you under the stars and say it’s his heaven bc you’re there. poetic king!!!

⟢ jongdae

picnic in the park, spring festivals, lazy river floats, cuddling under cherry blossom trees. he wants to laugh and kiss you in between bites of fruit and just vibe with the season. the type to say “this is my dream day” mid snuggle sesh and mean it 💐🍓

i love you love youuuuuu forever and a half miaaaaa 🥹😚💞 can’t wait for ur thots once you dive into loverboy hehehe 💘💗💗🩷🩷💖💓

[holographqq]

Hiii I adore your loubill art and I’m wondering if I can ask a couple of questions for them!

Hypothetically speaking if Lou and Bill had a child together, what’s their 1-10 scale of them being parents?

How did they ever fall in love with each other and why is Bill reluctant to explain his feelings towards Lou?

Do you think they can work it out in the epilogue or no?

Sorry if these questions are weird, I also followed you from TikTok if anything! Also I hope you don’t mind asking for a small request if you’re into drawing eltingville ocs but do you think you can draw my eltingville oc Naomi?

Anyways I love your art and I want to see more of LouBill, I love their dynamics and how cute they are in their own way! 💓💓💕💓💘💖🩷💝💞

HI HI OF COURSE YES

1: I’ve thought about this a lot. Lou and Bill both have parental issues. Lou is afraid of being a mother and ending up overtly anxious, taking extremes to calm herself down, and becoming a druggie like her mother did. Bill is afraid of becoming overtly anxious and being an absent father. Having a child would be no simple thing between them. I think that in the delivery room, it would be silent for a long time, and they’d both hold the baby, and they’d both start crying.

They’re terrified, but they have never felt this much love for one thing ever in their lives. This baby would be his and her entire world. They’d probably name it after some character. At first, the stress would be a source of friction. I’m talking the first several years. But when the kid starts to grow up, they’d be able to connect a little bit better, and they’d finally settle down and be mature enough to handle things in an adult manner without blowing up on one another. This is closer to ~34 ish.

Overall, doing-their-absolute-best/10. I don’t think I can give that a rating. If I had to, it would be about 7.

2: when it comes down to it, Bill and Lou had no control over it. There was no “why” to when they fell in love. They just did. That threw everything they had, especially Bill, completely askew. It was a fire that burned brighter every time they tried to smother it. This made him more prone to lashing out, and her more prone to fighting back harder, because they both were panicked.

Really and truly, Bill’s reluctance comes from guilt. Guilt and embarrassment. “God, what do you mean he’s in love with that dykey bitch?” Becomes “God, what do you mean he’s been calling this girl a dykey bitch?”

He is humiliated. He’s hurt her, he KNOWS he has. Hell, he made sure of it to try and push her away. At first, he just didn’t want to deal with her. And then he began to enjoy her company. And when he realized what was happening, he doubled down, because he was ashamed. He’d already treated her like shit. Surely she’d just laugh in his face if he tried asking her out (this was after he’d finally come to terms with having a crush on her, which was hell on earth for him).

The thing was, he noticed subtle differences in her. She was beginning to open up a little bit more. Be a little less aggressive. She was quicker to smile, and had begun really enjoying X-Men. He just couldn’t keep being aggressive. He couldn’t do it. He would depressively resign himself to feeling peace around her, comfort, joy, happiness. And after a while, it wasn’t so hard.

3: they absolutely do. Bill continues to seek therapy, Lou gets some herself, and they get married about 2 or 3 years (subject to change) after the events of the epilogue. 💕💕

And I’ve been doing a series of art trades over on TikTok, but those are closed right now just because I’ve been busy!! One of these days I’d love to, Naomi looks so cute! And thank you so much for the kind words!!

[baleydlind]

HAPPY BIRTHDAY, @marcogoetze!!! ❤💘💟💌💓🌺🌷🌹🎈😘🥳

Today is one of the most important and special days in the whole year because it is the day to celebrate your life, that such an incredibly sweet person was born and brought so much light and happiness into the lives of the ones you love! 😍

First of all, I want to thank you for being so sweet, loyal, loving and precious, simply THE NICEST GIRLS I have ever met in my life. I really wish that all the good you do for the ones around you come back in the form of the happiest life and many, many blessings 💖

I hope the next 365 days are lived to the fullest, that they only bring you joy, be filled with health, hope, dreams coming true, goodness, peace of mind, success, prosperity, comfort, may you become and have everything you have ever dreamed for yourself, because you are so much deserving of all the best ✨

Thank you for being so fantastic, so good to me. Thank you for being my best friend in the whole entire world and never forget that you are and always will be irreplaceable. Having you as my friend is one of the treasures of this lifetime.

Я люблю тебя так сильно и навсегда. (❁´◡`❁) 💜💛💘🤍💕💌

LOVE YOU TO THE FARTHEST STAR AND BACK!!! 🤍💗💞

[taylormarieee]

I just wanted to announce a few things...

For one: I'M BACK!!!! I mean I was slightly active but I rarely interacted with my moots, I miss you guys.

Two: I would like to say that I miss all my wives now let's make another list about my wives since Valentine's day was a few days ago and I didn't get to do this.

@dollyfl1rt : I love her so much, she is so cute and I was so sad when her first account got terminated, I thought I lost her forever. I was gonna cry. She's so sweet and a very open and down to earth person. She's someone you can get along with and is so kind. She is someone I feel like I could always talk to about literally anything and I wish her nothing but the best in life. She's amazing. I love you and Happy Late Valentines Day!❤️

@dustbunniess : I love her because she's funny, amazing, very peaceful and just so cute! I love how we have the same interests and can talk whenever, she's obvi a very busy woman but she's someone I look up to and someone I adore very much so Happy late Valentines day baby ;)💕

@sinsandsweetness : My first wife. I love her because she's number one and she's so wise and well spoken. She cares about the people in her life and she reminds me of the goddess Athena smm because she's so wise and just and incredibly smart and wonderful person. I love her with all my heart so as well Happy Late Valentines day babe💋

@liliesdiary : Straight up i'm gonna say it, SHE REMINDS ME OF APHRODITE!!!! Like she's so cute and her aesthetic is so cute and adorable! I love her so much even though I haven't talked to her in so long, she's so sweet and I miss talking to her, I hope everything is good and well for her. I love you my little daughter of aphrodite🎀 Happy Late Valentines Day!

@cherryredstars : This is my little gossip bestie! We literally gossip so much! She's amazing and her fics are just as amazing and she's also so well spoken and adorable. She reminds me of a golden retriever but yet a sophisticated black cat. She's so sweet and an incredible person overall! I wish her nothing but the best in life, and someone better love her just as much as I do. Happy late valentines day baby!💝

@writella : THIS IS MOTHER RIGHT HERE AND I LOVE HER! She is so kind and fun to talk to and I really enjoy talking to her and getting praise from her cuz yk, it's mother were talking about here. I love her and miss her! have not talked to her in a while so I hope she's ok, I love you and Happy Late Valentine's day babes!❣️

@hutchersonsgurl : THIS IS TWINN RIGHT HERE! I LOVE THIS GIRL SMM CUZ SHE'S SOOO FUNNY AND ENERGETIC! I love how we relate to the same things and I love how she is so cool and fun! Love you and Happy Late Valentines day twinn!💜

@luvrxbunny : I love her, we haven't talked in a while but she's just so fun and cool. I feel for her when she has sad daysd and goes through a lot of hard times but I hope she gets through it and I love her so much I hope she feels better and can finally be happy! I love you and Happy Late Valentines Day pretty girl!❤️‍🩹❤️

Saved the best for last... @versatilehater I LOVE THIS GIRL WITH EVERYTHING IN ME EVERY CELL, EVERY FIBER, EVERY ORGANISM AND FUNCTIONING VESSEL! She is my love and my best friend! I love her like no other and I love how she treats me, she is so cute and so sweet and I love her the absolute most! She's so kind and funny and freaky (my favourite part) Shes so amazing and I love her. HAPPY VALENTINES DAY MAMA!💓💞💖

I LOVE YOU ALL! HAPPY LATE VALENTINES DAY TO THOSE WHO DIDN'T HAVE ONE! HAPPY LATE VALENTINE'S DAY TO ALL THE LADIES THAT WERE ALONE!

❤️

XOXO, Londyn<333

[alavenderleaf]

Tagged by @gilliebee <3

Name: Lavender and Leaf interchangeably

Pronouns: he/him and she/her interchangeably (but genuinely okay with whatever, I’m genderfluid c: )

Where do u call home? Dubai, UAE. Even tho it was meant to be a temporary arrangement I’ve lived here my whole life and now any other emirate feels off lol

Favorite animals: goats. You ever jumped around with a baby goat??? Peace and love on planet earth 🥺💕💞💝💘💖💗💓💓💘💝💞💕

When it comes to birds: chickens and pigeons. Everytime I see one I’m like that’s so me. I’m them. They’re me. We are one.

Cereal of choice: anything with chocolate bc I’m still 5 years old

are you visual, auditory or kinesthetic learner? visual for sure, my ears don’t work right and I freaking love diagrams.

First pet: I’ve never named a pet except my current cat (xiexie!!) so my first pet did not have a name. It was a smol baby chick that grew up to be a mean ass spoiled ass fucking rooster who’d peck everyone except me <3

he was raised as a girl bc whoever gave me the chick told me it’s a chicken not a rooster and my dumbass did not recognize the signs of him being male and would argue with everyone who tried convincing me otherwise 🤠 denial is one hell of a drug bc how could I see the tail and mohawk (?? Tf u call that thing on its head) and be like “yes this is a chicken :) I see nothing wrong about this” anyway trans king. He’s just like mommy <3

I did have to give him away eventually :( he was taken to some uncle’s farm and got a chicken harem like the high value alpha male I knew he always had the capacity to be 😌 (ofc until another rooster was brought over and he lost the fight. He was plucked naked and shunned and he passed away featherless and bitchless. But we don’t talk about that)

Favorite scent: ………… lavend-*gun shots*

do you believe in astrology? Not really? But it’s so much fun !! :) I am a Capricorn sun Taurus moon and Leo rising, so do with that as you will <3

how many playlists do you have in apple music/spotify? I don’t use Apple Music. Spotify is purely for my friends so we can send playlists back and forth but I hate that everything is paywalled and it decides to choose shit for me. Like bitch. I did not add any of these songs to the playlist get tf away from me. Also why can’t I listen to my music offline???? I hate u. Anyway I just checked I have 87 playlists ???? 🤠🤠 When. How. Who are all these people I literally don’t know any of them?????

Sharpies or highlighters? Sharpies!!!! I love markers in general but sharpies always fire up my creative neurons

song that makes you cry: I’ve never cried to music but Fourth of July by Sufjan Stevens makes me so. :(

song that makes you happy: not to be a stereotype but Bastans by Miami band. (It’s a staple wedding song lmao)

and finally: do you draw/write/create?: YES!! My artistic skills are. Fine. But I do write a lot! My ao3 is lavender_petal and I’ve been learning how to create gifs over on my hockey side acc @gaybroons Also! I started making little braided bracelets lately :) they’re not perfect but they are fun!! I do try my hand at some Arabic/English translations from time to time but I’m not the best at it lol

I’m tagging: @loulucifer , @lindholmline , @earth-to-sway , and anyone else who wants to do this, but no pressure <3

[queengiuliettafirstlady]

Summer Birthdays Lovely Surprises

Summer Birthdays Lovely Surprises 

Fandom: Ikemen Vampire

Pairing: Napoleon Bonaparte x OC (Elaine)

Tag: Birthday Fluff Kisses Sugestive hints

Word Count  3.211

Author’s Note: Happy Birthday Honey @kissmetwicekissmedeadly 😍😍😘😘

This is my gift for you this year, to thank you once more of being my friend hoping you could like it, it is filled with all my affection and love I hold for you, for all the chats and talks we shared and every laugh it is dear to me. 🥰🥰💕💕💓💓

So in your special day I wish for you to do whatever you want and to enjoy it to the fullest, words are but a little tool to truly thank you for all the talent and effort you put behind each and every one of your creation, to thank you of being such amazing wonderful frinedly warm kind gentle talented girl I will always be proud and happy to call friend, that said I really hope my fic could show at least a portion of my affection to you. 💝💝💗💗💟💟

With this in mind I wish you once more a truly wonderful Happy Birthday. 💟💟🥰🥰😘😘

I LOVE YOU SO MO 💖💖 HAPPY BIRTHDAY!! 🎉🎉🎉🎊🎊🎊✨✨✨🎇🎇🎇🎂🎂🎂🥳🥳🥳

Tag list

@kissmetwicekissmedeadly

@aquagirl1978 @candied-boys

You can find me on AO3 as QueenJuliet 😊

Thank you for everyone who will like, reblog, or comment please be gentle with me english is not my first language so please do not leave rude comments I apologise for eventual errors I hope you will like it 😊

It was a warm summer day, the light breeze make the curtains billow in the winds, letting the sweet scent of pastries invade the nostrils of the two lovebirds woke up from their slumber still cocooned in the light blankets, he stifled a yawn in his hand, smiling at the sound of her giggles warming his heart a song he never got tired to wake up to, swiftly he moved to take her in his arms, his fingers travelling to tuck a rebel golden lock behind her ear before brushing his thumb on her rosy cheek

"Good morning mia Principessa." her tender smile radiating warmth more smolder than the summer sun and ten fold brighter, he left a reverent kiss full of devotion on her forehead as she nuzzled better in his chest hiding her rosy blushed cheeks

"Good morning mio Principe." hearing her talking in his tongue had him weak on his knees, the idea she learnt that language only for him enough to melt his heart completely, playfully he brushed his nose on hers hearing her giggle softly murmuring few inches from her lips

"Happy birthday." that few words were enough to fill her heart with happiness she did her best to convey melting her lips on his, feeling his hands curl on her hips a reminder of the previous night activity making heat rush to her cheeks once more, reluctantly he pulled away leaning his forehead to hers, sharing his love in an heartfelt confession she did not hesitated to reciprocate

“Je t’aime tellement Elaine plus que tout au monde.”

“Je t’aime aussi Napoleon avec tout mon coeur.”

Everything was so peaceful and quiet that morning, they almost could get used to it … almost, in fact a moment later the door opened and a colorful tornado swept on their bed, filling the air with her tingling giggles as she trundled and tumbled in the blankets, stopped in her frenzied movements only by the gentle yet firm grip of Elaine, laughing softly at the soft sloppy smoochies planted on her face by their little daughter, soon joined by the chuckle of her husband as he leaned over to tickle her softly on the side of her tummy,

"You have no kisses for me ?" wriggling free from his tickles she shook her head looking at him with her big bright eyes shooking her soft curls 

"Not today."

"I am wounded." he bring his hands over his heart faking incredulity, before join in the hearty laugh of the two girls whose attention was taken by the piping hot plate of delicious chocolate crepes as soon as he pulled it out from a carefully hidden next to his nightstand,

“I hope you don't think I forgot your favourite dish, mon amour.

“Oh Leone, you are absolutely the best.”

“I only want to match up with my lovely wife.” she threw herself in his arms, promptly wapinga round her, a satisfied smile curled his lips as she planted a soft kiss on his cheeks,

“Grazie mille.”

“Don't mention it. Buon appetito.” she did not let him told her twice as she happily feasted in her breakfast, followed by Lucianna and Napoleon, who had at least managed to stole their little daughter a kiss as he handed a chocolate filled crepe, eliciting Elaine giggles, she carefully hide sipping a fresh cup of tea, before diving back into breakfast.

Finally they managed to get ready for the day, getting dressed too longer than expected but there was no rush anyway, taking all the time they wanted arriving at the mansion at noon, they were just about to advise their daughter to be careful on her way that she had already wandered off in the garden eager to meet the other resident, she was about to enter in the house but before she could take a step a pair of familiar hands covered her eyes

"Now now ma Reine let ton Roi guide you or else your reward will shy away from your gaze."

"Aww noo I don't want that." she pouted hearing his soft giggle warming her heart as his gentle yet husky voice guided her into the garden, her whole body quivering with curiosity as she followed obediently his instructions, grateful for the fresh air hitting her face as he slid his fingers away, enveloping her hands in his making her turn around, her amethysts irises glimmering under the morning sun as she stared wide eyed at the spectacle in front of her, a warm happy smile curling her rosy as she took in the gorgeous view of the garden decorated with a summery theme of vivid flowers falling gracefully from cake stands filled with colorful fruits, curiosity had her tiptoed near the table to admire the decorations, paying attention to the refined lacy embroider of the candid tablecloth, before reaching out to take a rose between her fingers, it's rosy smooth surface glimmering under the sunshine releasing a peculiar perfume, weirdly akin to chocolate, she was about to test her theory when a single petal fell from the rose, pormptly picked up by her fingers, she studied it intensely noticing a deep brown color under the rosy shell, tentatively she bit on it letting its sweet flavour fest on her tongue invading her palate, her heart melt alike the milk chocolate on her tongue at his sweet surprise 

"Do you like it mia Principessa ?"

munching happily on her chocolate treat she nodded, her cheeks full and rosy like a peach, she was so adorable he could not help but lean over, brushing his lips on her temple revelling in the way her blush deepened on her soft features.

In the center of that pastry party stood an huge cake decorated with little rosy hearts and seashells, she could not wait to dive in sharing it with their friends and family, that thought elicited a surge of heat in her heart she sighed dreamily happiness spreading over he body, sublimated by the tender gesture of her husband, who had carelessly dipped a finger in the soft cream holding it close to her lips, without thinking twice she licked his digit earning a tender smile from that lip she oh so much loved to feel on every inch of her body, thought that make heat rush to her face warming her even more than the sun. 

Her voice unusually soft she leaned in to whisper few inches from his ear

"I am already loving my reward." his warm breath fanning on her lips, a desire to convey their mutual feelings had him melt his lips on her, smiling in satisfaction at the feeling of her tongued dancing and swirling with his, in a battle for dominance he knew she let him won, when at least they had to pull away it was for a need of air, they greedily take in, panting while looking in each other eyes before bursting out laughing like children,  

“You will adore it even more when you see the full thing then.”

his murmurs secrets softly whispered in her ear making her tingle with excitement, she was taken aback by his sudden revelation so much she was hanging from his lips hoping to discover more but for the time being she had to settle with what he told her and just when she resigned to wait for her surprise he took her hands in his once more, pulling her for a brief dance she enjoyed to the fullest, a fresh breeze brushing over the garden as they waltz and spinned around in the soft grass, a peculiar show for the graceful butterflies and busy bees flying around the bushes while petals of flowers scattered in the wind enveloping them in a magical atmosphere. 

His voice soft in her ear, making her heart swell with affection as he murmured

"It is time for your gift." he wrapped his arm around her waist 

“Look up.” as in a daze she promptly obeyed, her eyes glued to the spectacle while her smile shone brighter than the sun itself as a crowd of colorful hot air balloons begin to appear in the light blue sky, each with a letter embroidered on the ballon, once she had read the full phrase she throw her arms around him pulling him in for a sweet slow kiss, conveying all the love they felt for one another

"Je t 'aime ma reine." he pronounced the words billowing in the sky, a lovestruck gaze in his jade irises mirrored by her amethyst eyes looking up at him, smiling at the soft kiss he brushed on her forehead 

"Je t'aime aussi mon roi." his smile made her heart swell with all the affection she felt for him, conveyed by a soft on his cheeks, revelling in the soft rosy blush crepting over his cheeks.

"Thank you so much Leon it was gorgeous." Her smile alone was a reward he would have do anything to gain, enough to capture both his heart and mind mesmerizing him like no one ever did, not enough though for him to forget the other surprises he had in store to make her happy like she made him

"I am glad my gift gave me such a precious reward but it did not finish there."

"It isn’t ?" confusion flickered in her irises

"Of course not mia principessa I want to spoil you rotten today." he murmured in her ear, her eyes widened as her smile bright and pure light up her features at the feeling of a pair of soft hands covering her eyes, her giggles unmistakable doubts not lingering for a second in her mind as she exclaimed mirthfully

"Julia."

"Got in one." her friend bright smile and peculiar colored eyes meet her own as she slide in front of her, taking her hand in hers 

“Come on Rose you could not really think I have forgotten your special day.” she was practically bursting with excitement as she looked at her

"Not at all."

“Did you like your gift ?” curiosity sparkling on her features as she waited impatiently for an answer she was not shy to give

“Of course I did. I am still in awe.” 

“Ahahah I am so glad you liked it.” 

“Napoleon is always so full of ideas, I wonder how he got them.” 

“ It must be the power of Love.” something mischievous flickered in her green irises, a playful smirk dancing on her lips a moment before she slide away, letting her place to Napoleon who appeared in front of her with a big, colourful package she did not see the time to unwrap, lead by his enthusiasm she spent what seemed hours unpacking all the gift from the residents, by the time she finished unpacking them all she felt her cheeks aching from how long she had smiled, thanking everyone for the wonderful presents, some so curious to make her wonder where they got them and some other handmade warming her heart by the tight behind it all, grateful for their affection they so generously showered upon her.

Still in a daze from all that colourful packages she was utterly taken aback by the appearance of her girl, almost dragging out of his shell a dark haired boy she had no difficulty recognizing as her best friend’s son, her hand still wrapped around his as he spoke 

"We have made this as a gift for you Madame Bonaparte." that name made her heart swell with warmth, the reality of that dream she had so many times since realizing her love for him moved her to the core, so much her fingers trembled slightly when collecting the drawings from their daughter hands

"We wish you a Happy Birthday Madame Elaine."

Lucianna hand squeezed his own to reassure him he could be less formal but with little success, she chuckled at the sight so much her voice quivered with giggles as she thanked them both

"Thank you from the bottom of my heart, you and Lucianna really are wonderful artists."

he blushed looking shyly at the girl to his side and then to her once more

"Thank you madame ahem Elaine." she smiled at his attempt, her eyes softened with affection moved by the drawings, a childish calligraphy naming each and every one of the mansion resident filling her heart with inexplicable happiness completed by the soft yet strong grip of his arm around her hips as he left a gently kiss on her temple, making her blush.

A lavish banquet was held for her, full of all her favourite dishes along some french and corsican addition her friends had added, listening carefully to her talks and jolting down idea after ideas, all coming together to fest their palates with their taste thank to the wonderful ability of the greatly acclaimed chef even known as the butler of the mansion, only one whose glass was filled with simple water in stark contrast to the white liquid filling all the other goblets up to the brim its sweet perfume invading the air as the liquid reflected the light of the lanterns, toasts and laughs followed easy chit chats and the soft noise of dishes and glasses clinking against the other, up until the scrumptious dessert making its appearance on the table, giving way to more than one kiss acclaimed by the whole crew of the residents. 

The soft melody of the violin and the accordion filled the frizzy air of the early evening, composed for the occasion by Mozart himself, the delicate note of the violin united with the more folk notes of the handmade accordion moved by no one else than its creator Leonardo himself, everyone flowed to the improvised dance floor coaxing even the more reserved among the residents, letting the music guide their movements.

"May I have this dance mademoiselle Lucienne ?"

Feeling bold enough he moved to invite her over, his phrase generated such amusement to his parents, recognizing a bit too well who he take his overly polite habit from making her chuckle looking at him smiling back at her before brushing a tender kiss on her forehead revelling in her bright smile, ogling at her nodding enthusiastically taking his hand letting him guide the dance not resisting the urge to leave a kiss on his cheek to thank him making him blush.

The night dragged on, music swaying from slow waltzer to more fast paced dances keeping everyone entertained, some retired to stare at the scenes comfortably sitting around in the grass some other dozed off around on the settee, like the children who were long fallen asleep on the sofa, the girl head placed on his chest he did not dared to move, adjusting his arm around her to keep her warm, smiling when she nuzzled closer to him, only the lovebirds remained on the dancefloor slowly spinning around, exchanging sweet slow kisses, heating up from time to time as they continued to waltz around in the grass, filling the air with soft satisfied sigh or half murmured moans revealing a smoldering passion able to dissipate all the freshness of the air, Julia smiled softly leaning her head on her husband shoulder feeling his arms tightened around her, murmuring sweet nothings in her ear making her giggle as she hide her blush in his neck while she let a soft kiss on his neck revelling in the way he playfully peppered kisses on her hair and temple.

Elaine chuckled as his own lover smiled adoringly at her, a lovestruck expression glimmering in his smoldering gaze as he looked at her before melting his lips on hers, their body were so close she could feel his sturdy chest press lightly against her breast desire flood in her veins, revelling in the way he seemed to push softly against her, swept in a waving motion bringing them closer then apart in such a way to arouse and frustrate them both equally, impatience glimmering in her eyes flashing red for a mere second, revelation of her vampiric nature things she did out of love making him happy behind imagination, so much mesmerized by her beauty to be taken aback by the sensation of her lips on his, pulled in a fierce kiss he did not shied away from requiting fully adding of his own as their tongues begin a waltz of their own in a battle for dominance who saw them both, in turn leading and following the other, a kiss they both desired to last longer taking from where they left off after every small break to breath, until they were but a panting mess, curls falling untidy over their shoulder, cheeks heated with passion and lips swollen with kisses and two smile that easily could have outshoned the sun as he leaned his forehead to hers murmuring a tender heartfelt confession few inches from her rosy lips. 

“I love you ma Reine only you.”

“I love you mon Roi so very much.”

His arms wrapped around her, keeping her warm from the fresh breeze of the night brushing over their skin, making shiver of excitement run all over her body still giddy from their passionate kisses, her mind in a daze leaned over his shoulder, strangely a bit tired out from their exercise but far from refusing a second round, taken aback from her reveries only from his deep velvety voice murmuring 

“I still have one gift for you. Do you mind if we retire for the night ?

his tone sultry speaking of desire and bliss, of a long night spent in each other arms, a dreamy sigh from her lips escaped her lips at the prospect of such a gift, shivering in pleasure at the soft brush of his lips on her earlobe,  

“Oh Napoleon, not at all. I can’t wait.” her voice tender as she nuzzled in his neck, letting her fingers wander on his still clothed chest, looking up at him meeting his smoldering jade green eyes making her feel weak in the knees, the same eyes irises she could not deny anything to knowing far too well she had the same effect on him, her heart swell with pride and satisfaction at the knowledge as she softly kept caressing his buttons undoing one in her travels, revelling in the way his breath hitched in his throat at the soft touch of her fingers on the naked portion of his pecs.

Man of action he did not wasted any more time with a smirk gracing his lips he took  her in his arms, their hearty laughs melted together resonating in the air as they made their way toad the mansion through the now empty garden, meeting her friend’s eye blinking at her to assure they would have taken care of everything, mindfully thanking her for that she relaxed on his shoulder, excited to enjoy all the surprises he had in store for her with only the aster as spectators, running through the empty halls laughing like children as they slipped back in his old room, ready to show off their love to one another sealing their union over and over again all through the night until dawn.

[yunverie]

As I retired from my writing era for the time being and now have plenty of times to read, I went a little crazy with the review length 😭🤌

Among those strange beings and within the veils of Aethera, there was a girl loved by death. 

Opening line slapped me in the face then kissed me as an apology.

Crows with dead eyes arrive at your doorstep like some lover’s cheeky gift, other poor creatures like fat grey mice are left to rot in the wheatfields, and yarrow stocks wilt outside the wall of your room. If Death thinks that you are flattered, he misunderstands you.

Never in my wildest dreams did I think words can be woven so... perfectly??? I need to take a look inside your mind Ash. I'm gobsmacked.

The wickerbasket’s handle creaks under your fist. You usually only forage along the shallow line of the forest; you pluck from bramble bushes topped with plump berries that crawl between trees during the summer, and when the crab apple tree’s branches hang heavy with the fruit, you snatch those up too. You’re more useful to your family out here, in the woods that they deem just as cursed as you. Where you won’t be their burden.

Yeah I think you just became my favourite author. No cap. I'm a sucker of poetic writing.

“There you are, love.”

THE NICKNAME LOVE MAKES ME WEAK IN THE KNEES AND IN PLACES I SHOULD NOT NAME‼️‼️‼️‼️

“We go here and there,” he says, “but it’s been a very long time since we came here.” There’s a certain thickness to his words; a certain tension coiled over them from something that you’re not privy to. And yet, there’s a farawayness, too. You bet he’s full of a lifetime of secrets. Lifetimes of secrets. “But I think I’ve found myself a reason to finally return.”

Mc is stronger than me. I would've gotten down on my knees right there and then and give him the most mind boggling head he's ever gotten, bringing him straight to life 💞💕💓💗💖💝💘

His voice takes on a parting tilt when he says, “It doesn’t matter anymore. Death takes us all.” Yeonjun dips his head at you. His smile wavers. You’d think that crooked smile on his mouth was indelible had you not seen it twitch down at the corners only for a moment. If you’d have blinked, you’d have missed it. “You think I’ll hurt you,” he says, “well, don’t let me stop you. Go ahead, run. I apologize for your basket.”

I MAYBE A TAEHYUN GIRLIE IN TSFAWC BUT GODDAMN REVENANT YJ IS MAKING IT UP HERE FOR ME

A deep, familiar voice from behind you gives you pause. “Want some help with that?” Soobin says.

I unfortunately got spoiled and had taken a few days to recover from Soobin’s fate >:(((

He smiles. It's different from the ones he showed you before. It’s knowing; more sweet than cracking over his face like the smile you would expect from the likes of him. What use might he have in being sweet? “Could I join you?”

Omg sirrrrr are you flirting 🫦 teeheeeee

“I was,” he says ruefully. “And I had everything. I had the love of my life. I think that even the most bitter of creatures on this island had envy for our love. She would braid dandelions into my hair, and then I’d braid them into hers.” He swallows thickly and pauses, as if the wound was still festering and fresh. “And then she died. She died starting our family. She died because of me, in my arms.”

Ash wtf man. You can't break my heart like this bro.

Blood runs like lead through your veins. You say, “Can we help it?” He shakes his head. “He’ll die.”

😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

Eventually, he’s gone. Quiet and at peace, no longer hurting. This time, when you look over to Yeonjun who still smooths over the deer’s skin even as he goes, guiding him delicately into whatever greets us when we go, you see death as a gentle thing.

Excuse me while I go jump off. Your writing is fucking beautiful. Phenomenal.

It’s a terrible, cursed existence. Even the nothingness of death becomes a paradise beside it.

????HOW DOES YOUR MIND COME UP WITH SUCH GREATNESS?????

“Do I scare you?”

“No.”

“No?” he echos, pushing himself up so that he leans back onto his palms. “Isn’t that strange? Pretty little thing says she’s not afraid of death, but her heart races when I’m near. Her sweet heart jumps at just the brush of my leg. Are you sure you’re telling me the truth, love?”

Feral delight sparks in his eyes, black as pitch. His smile turns up all feline at the crooked corners. “Crawl to me, then.”

Yeonjun takes the soft fat of your hips in his fingers. “Fuck,” he says. It sounds like he’s barely holding the gates on something endlessly consuming. Something that might break loose on the two of you, and leave you changed forever with its hungry, gnashing teeth. His head hits your collarbone. “Tell me to stop. Please, tell me to go. Because I don’t know how.”

“You think I don’t want you?” he says, straightening up and meeting your gaze. His breath is hot on your mouth. “I want you so fucking bad. You are in the marrow of my bones. Fuck, I have done nothing but want you, but I am foul. I will only hurt you.”

“You want me to show you what I’ve wanted to do to you?” he says, working at his pants. His eyes are so drunk on you, and his cheeks betray his state. “Open your legs, my love. Let me show you a little death.”

Had to put my phone down here. I even ran out of reaction pics.

Your thoughts stall and you nod, making your mouth into a filthy pout. God, how you want that. Maybe he’s right about you being filthy. Coming from him, it sounds like a delicious thing to be.

Same bro same

For the first time in so, so long, you do not feel marked by death.

This and the fact that a few paragraphs ago yeonjun did indeed mark mc is sooooo 🤌🤌🤌

That you think it’s my fault, you want to say. That they all die because I am a plague, and you are a charity worker for being my friend. Instead, you just leave and try to choke down the tightness in your throat.

no.. NO THERE'S NO FUCKING WAY THEY FOUGHT BEFORE HIS DEMISE NO NO NO NO N O KK MXOSMZPALSL ASH NOOOOOO999

Yeonjun feels you go stiff. Bringing his head back to your shoulder from his own delight, he says, “It’s okay. You’re okay. Let it into your bones. Do you think I would let it hurt you?”

I just keep on falling in love with him oml

Soobin’s dead. Soobin’s dead, and it’s nobody else’s but your own fault.

FUCK FUCK I KNEW THIS WAS COMING BUT GOD IT STILL HURT SO MUCH. I don't think I like you Ash (ily I'm joking)

Don’t go, you want to tell him. Please don’t leave. Please, hold me. But your mouth is dry, and you let the radiant hurt in your chest stop you. You let him go.

ONE THING AFTER ANOTHER ISTG

A tawny hare leaps out in front of you. It sniffs around you, nose twitching. Then it stands back on its haunches. It stares straight at you, an intelligent light in its eyes that knits your brows. The wild thing stands there with a purpose that is uncharacteristic of a forest animal.

But entirely familiar in the face of your best friend. That shine in its eyes as it stands there, nose still twitching, makes your chest tighten up.

NVM ASH I HATE (LOVE) YOU SM GET AWAY FROM MEEEEE I NEED YOU TO PAY FOE MY THERAPY BILLS

For the first time, Yeonjun appears in front of you rather than behind you. He materializes from nothing, his elbow on his knee as casual as if he’d been sat there the whole time. The darkness beneath his eyes seems heavier, but then again you know that exact heaviness. It sits right in the very center of you.

He's now infront of mc. Oh god he's come to take her, isnt he?

Maybe, in some years, somebody might dig up your bones and find you immortalized like this in your love. Your bones bowing toward each other, as if even death were not enough to stop you from reaching for each other. Or maybe they’ll just find yours, and Yeonjun still curling into them how you know he will for an eternity more.

Either way, the going is still slow and gentle, as death always is.

Ash, you've made me speechless. This was peak literature, one of the best, well written angst I've read in a hot minute. Nothing can come near this I'm afraid. I think I will be reading this again and again every time I need to cry lol. I'm sorry I took so long give your works a chance but academics held me back. Better late than never ig 😌 I shall now excuse myself and cry. This review got way longer than I expected but you deserve it.

THE TERRIBLE HALF-TRUTHS OF THE UNDEAD ҜING

⠀(🍂 ) 𝓡EVENANT in folklore, a revenant is a spirit or animated corpse that is believed to have been revived from death to haunt the living ... ( 𝑝𝑙𝑎𝑦𝑙𝑖𝑠𝑡 )

1︎5.5k revenant!yeonjun · ƒ ! r ft. soobin ⸺ ✴︎ 𝖿𝖺𝗇𝗍𝖺𝗌𝗒 ... smut, violence, angst, death, animal death & vivid descriptions of animal death, major character death, unprotected sex, cumming inside, dry humping (because bring it back), biting, dom yeonjun sub reader, mentions of death in childbirth, reincarnation, teasing, breast worship, yj calls reader ‘my love’, def some typos

🪶 ⦂ how fun is this collab? :,) this fic was so fun to write. i personally believe that tsfawc enjoyers will love this one,, but you'll have to read it to confirm that, right? hehe. and of course, go read everybody else's if you love this one! they're all set in the same world, and everybody worked so hard on these fics. send some love their way!

rꫀׁׅܻblogs & asks arꫀׁׅܻ always apprꫀׁׅܻciatꫀׁׅܻd!

𝒪𝑁𝐶𝐸 𝒰𝑃𝑂𝑁 𝒶 𝒯𝐼𝑀𝐸, in a land far, far away, where the treetops touched the soft clouds of the sky and the water sparkled under the glowing sun, where mountains rose high, and long, deep caves ran through them, where the sea met shore in collisions of swirling, foamy punches, where the undead walked among the living, where the winged flew above the finned, there was a land where things beyond reason and rhyme existed perfectly true. Among those strange beings and within the veils of Aethera, there was a girl loved by death. 

He sits on your shoulder, a dark, boding shadow and glared at those around you with promise in his eyes.

That’s how it seems, anyway. That’s how everybody looks at you. They dodge you, whisper about you, evade your gaze as if he might reach his claws for them next if they linger for too long.

Crows with dead eyes arrive at your doorstep like some lover’s cheeky gift, other poor creatures like fat grey mice are left to rot in the wheatfields, and yarrow stocks wilt outside the wall of your room. If Death thinks that you are flattered, he misunderstands you. You are terrified of nothing more than dying. The first time, it was a sly joke. Then it happened again, and you watched their eyes change. And it happened again and again, and your people are a suspicious type. Something can only be a coincidence so many times.

When you began to sneak into a little shack with a village boy, you thought that maybe, somehow, this would all pass. He died too. There’s really no coming back from that, is there? You don’t blame them. You’re not the freak that they all believe you to be—none of them get close enough anymore to know that, though.

The wickerbasket’s handle creaks under your fist. You usually only forage along the shallow line of the forest; you pluck from bramble bushes topped with plump berries that crawl between trees during the summer, and when the crab apple tree’s branches hang heavy with the fruit, you snatch those up too. You’re more useful to your family out here, in the woods that they deem just as cursed as you. Where you won’t be their burden.

Crisp autumn leaves crunch under your boots. You scan between them—more grey and rotted this late in the season than fresh and orangey—for the edible mushrooms and roots that you usually forage at this time of year. The basket’s already pretty heavy with a variety, black morels and sorrel and burdock, as you bend down to pull a truffle from the dirt against a tree.

You drop it down with the rest of your finds. The basket smells like earth, no doubt your hands do too. You dust your palms off on your skirts and go to rise back from your squat.

A deep, billowing horn pierces the forest’s silence. It’s both far away, wiggling between the whispers of rustling leaves, and much too close. It draws out. Long. Bone-chilling. You freeze, scanning between each tree trunk and praying that you won’t find what you fear you might.

You are much deeper into the woods than you usually are. Than you ought to be. And you know what that horn means—you know that it means something far worse than what you’d been afraid of, coming into these woods. Much more primordial than the hide-behinds you were scared you might find this deep, much less avoidable than the faerie rings you stepped around.

Why would The Wild Hunt be here? A shudder runs down your spine, and you curl your fingers into your skirts and lift them as if to prepare to run, but you don’t. Your feet find root in the forest floor and all you can do is stand terribly still in catatonia. Their horn sounds again, and a procession of wicked whoops and howls follow. Wild hoofbeat rumbles under it all—the hunt and their rides. You hope that they’re just passing through, and you won’t so much as see one of those wild riders. There were plenty of folktales that the matrons of your village would bolster to terrify you as children, but you knew even then that their stories of the riders, with their flesh falling away from them and their pale or beady eyes and their gnarled maws and frightening figures as they rode on the backs of equally terrible steeds, were not fabricated. They are not a bogeyman or a wailing banshee; they are death made in the flesh, and they are here. In your forest. 

Your legs won’t work. You curl your clammy fingers tighter around your basket and lean into the tree beside you. How deep had you wandered into the forest? Hopefully not too far; when you gain the courage to run, you hope that they do not send their hounds to snap their foul breath on your heels. Maybe just standing here and blending into the trees is best. The Hunt would love a chase, and you don’t want to become their next.

The next call comes and you throw that all to the wind. Your heart pounds against your ribcage as you let your basket clatter to the leaves and you take off. You fly over roots and shrubbery and between the trees, your blood roaring in your ears faster. You’d oblige if you could.

Above the loudness of your frantic mind, the harrowing whinnies and The Hunt’s ruckus dulls until it’s faraway again, and then it’s gone. Well, you don’t stop to check if they’ve really passed through the forest. You just run.

“There you are, love.”

His voice cuts through your frantic escape and stops you dead in your path. You almost go crashing down over the ground with the force that you dig your heels into it. Though the voice is non-threatening, you don’t turn to face the source.

He speaks again. You already know who it is. He, old as the earth you stand on itself, leads that band of wild riders. Is the king of the undead, collects souls for reaping.

And he’s the one who’s plagued you with his attention. Death.

“Why do you keep your back turned to me?” he says. “I frighten you. That hurts.” His voice lilts with amusement and sharpness. “I wish that you would face me.”

You’re not fond of the way that he speaks to you with a familiarity. But then again, you’re not fond of dying, either. Your legs are boneless beneath you. Turning, you slowly indulge him, though it takes a great amount of willpower to not run again like your jittering jaw and trembling hands ask you to.

The King of Death stands tall and utterly preternatural, leaned against a crooked tree in the woods behind you. His smile cracks across his face in a jagged way that suggests he finds you amusing, but none of that meets his eyes. They’re the color of the greyish, rotted leaves beneath you. The dark shadows beneath his eyes are the only thing belying the weight that his infinite life might have on him. That, and the hollowness that rings from him.

And though he sounded entirely playful, you are shaken by the sorrow that you find in him now that you’ve turned. Even more so, you’re not sure why you feel it echoed somewhere in the hollows of your bones. “I’m sorry,” you say. It trembles terribly. You want to say that you’re sorry you caught his attention, but it seems you’ve always had his attention. It’s more that you are petrified down to your marrow that the time’s come that you face this… strange infatuation. Here he stands: the one who leaves hollowed out husks of creatures at your doorstep. Should you run or thank him? Is Death as prideful a creature as the other kinds that inhabit Aethera? “I don’t mean to…”

He pushes off his tree, fixing his cape that cascades over only one of his shoulders. It’s tattered and falling apart like the rest of his clothing, though you think that the bronze stitching and swirling oakleaf patterns in the black say that they might have been immaculate at some point. Or maybe they weren’t, and they had started that way. He is Death, anyway. “You’re sorry?” he says. “Why are you apologizing to me? You’ve hardly done a thing to warrant it.”

Faltering, you wet your chapped lips. You’re not really sure. Holding back another apology for fear that you’ve offended him and he’ll now strike you down for it, you say, “I thought that, maybe the hunt was…” Wow, you sound stupid. You can see in the sly smile his lips form that it amuses him. That’s almost worse than angering him: intriguing him. What you really should be doing is boring him so that he’ll find you a waste of his time. Then, maybe, he’d give up haunting you.

“After you?” he finishes. Shaking his head, he says, “My hunters only answer to me.”

“Oh,” you say plainly. Part of you wants to ask why that should comfort you, especially when you’re the one that he sends little bits of death to, but rationality keeps those words in the back of your throat. You don’t really want to know. “Why are you passing by here?”

Something akin to old longing passes through those witty eyes, and then he eats up the distance between you with languid steps of his long legs until he’s nothing more than one last step in front of you. The closeness consumes the air in your lungs, leaving nothing for you but short and shallow drags. The forest has gone dead silent aside from the sound of it. His voice is even more magnetic now that he’s so close.

You recoil when he brings a hand up to brush the pad of his thumb over your cheek and then cup your jaw, as if afraid that he might snuff you out here and now. His fingers are softer than you thought they might be, and the lines of his face sharpen into what you think is hurt. Hurt that you flinched?

“We go here and there,” he says, “but it’s been a very long time since we came here.” There’s a certain thickness to his words; a certain tension coiled over them from something that you’re not privy to. And yet, there’s a farawayness, too. You bet he’s full of a lifetime of secrets. Lifetimes of secrets. “But I think I’ve found myself a reason to finally return.”

Breathy and still struggling to flatten out your breathing, you ask him, “Why?”

The Undead King’s smile turns wicked once more, and he doesn’t answer you. It’s awfully eerie.

“Do you have… business here?” you try again. It’s a roundabout way of asking, do you have someone to take away?

“I have business wherever the living go,” he says, letting your face go but not giving you any more room. You narrow your eyes. He’s quite good at non-answers. “Nothing is more certain than that I will greet every living thing eventually. I’ll come to take you, too, when the time comes.”

Your mouth dries up. The entirety of your home, all the people you’ve ever known, fear you for all the death you bring. Not one of them fears it more than you do. You’ve seen it enough to fear its frightening finality.

The drop of your face must’ve told him how much that scared you. “Dying is not such an awful thing, love. Living pales in comparison.” Searching your eyes, he adds, “But I’ve not come to take you.”

That’s easy for him to say: that death isn’t something to fear. His words don’t calm your thundering heart, but you offer him a, “Thank you…” It trails off toward the end when you realize that you don’t have his name. If he has one, anyway.

“Yeonjun.” He tilts his head, strands of sparrow hair brushing over his watching eyes. “Most don’t know it, but you’re not most people, are you?”

Your breathing had just begun evening out. It’s a shame, the way that it kicks back up at the way he looks at you. “What do you mean?” you say, but of course you know. Nobody else is given dead things like you. It’s not like you yourself are very strange; you like pretty dresses and sharing gossip with friends just as much as any other girl your age.

Giving you another one of those knowing smiles that he uses just like words, he steps back. “I’m sorry that I scare you how I do.”

You don’t answer him. What could you say to that? That he doesn’t? That would be a lie, and he would know it.

Yeonjun’s eyes flit over your face, over your cheeks made pink by the autumn cold, lingering on your lips for a few unexplainable beats, and then landing on your eyes where he searches and finds something that sends his throat bobbing with a thick swallow. “I don’t mean to be your monster. It’s only that…” He steps back again. “You remind me a terrible amount of someone I once knew.”

“Who?” Though your shoulders relax a bit with some distance between the two of you, you do your best to not let your guard down. All the stories that you recall being told, all those cautionary tales passed down through word of mouth around a fire, end with some stupid girl thinking that the monster could be changed or tricked. You’re willing to bet that the man in front of you, no matter how human he looks or how enchanting his words are, could be neither.

That doesn’t explain the ache in your chest when he holds your eyes for too long. But you shove that feeling way, way down. It’s nonsensical.

His voice takes on a parting tilt when he says, “It doesn’t matter anymore. Death takes us all.” Yeonjun dips his head at you. His smile wavers. You’d think that crooked smile on his mouth was indelible had you not seen it twitch down at the corners only for a moment. If you’d have blinked, you’d have missed it. “You think I’ll hurt you,” he says, “well, don’t let me stop you. Go ahead, run. I apologize for your basket.”

Death takes us all. You’re not sure what that’s supposed to mean, coming from him, but it sends a cold wind up your spine and goosebumps crawling over your skin.

He watches you go. You don’t look back when you do, but his gaze sits on your back until you’re sure you’re out of his sight. When you return to your home, your mother asks where the basket full of ingredients for supper went.

You imagine what her face might look like if you told her the truth. But that was impossible, so instead you tell her some stupid story about a wolf that startled you so bad that you ran home paying no mind to where your basket was. It’s close enough to the truth.

༺ ꘏ ༻

It doesn’t matter what you do; you can’t get his face out of your head. While you cut butter into flour and then roll out dough, simmer fruits over flame and you slice cheese off blocks, you replay that meeting in the forest. The memory spins and turns over no matter how hard you try to put it away from your thoughts.

It’s not every day that somebody meets the likes of him. You can’t blame yourself; he had such captivating eyes. Dark, playful, and endless. There they are again. You sigh and dust your hands off. Maybe you are just as strange as they all think that you are. Morbid curiosity is like that, though. Taking the most normal of us and making you wonder what you absolutely should not wonder about.

And you absolutely should not wonder about him.

The sun has begun to hang high in the sky, but the breeze that crawls through the window you pulled open before you got to work is a crisp one. Autumn’s really come, now. Outside the window, a huddle of children play around in the leaves that you’d raked up. You’ll have to rake those back up, but you hardly have the heart to tell them to take their playing elsewhere. Their giggles and small voices waft in with the breeze, and a traitorous part of you yearns for a family that you know you’ll never have. No man would risk that fate, not after what happened to the last man who paid you any attention. You grit your teeth at the memory.

Having a face for the thing that’s made your life the way it is is strange. Seeing him in the flesh, with handsome eyes and a taunting mouth, looking something near human, you think you’ve come to resent him for it. How dare he ruin your life? He, more than anybody, should know how fleeting life is. What is in it for him to deface what little time you have? You keep going back to that thought: why did he ever even appear to you in that forest? There is not one story in which you remember Yeonjun showing his face to those he hasn’t come to claim. Death makes his visits swift and purposeful.

Moreover, why on earth would he even look your way? You wish there was a plain way to ask him why, or even to plead with him to stop. Whatever it is he’d ask of you, you think you might give him. To get back to living, you would.

A deep, familiar voice from behind you gives you pause. “Want some help with that?” Soobin says. He stands  in the doorway, his head nearly brushing the top of the frame. It’s made too small for him. Most things in your tiny village were made too small for Soobin. There had been a time where you’d been taller than him, that had hardly lasted long enough.

“As if,” you dismiss and gesture at his dirty hands. He’d no doubt been out working his family’s field, his tunic sleeves rolled up to his elbows.  “Cow shit isn’t an ingredient.”

Anybody else might’ve scoffed or taken offense, but he just laughs and invites himself in anyway. It never fazes Soobin. He doesn’t let you push him away.

It’d be better if he did. How long before he ends up dead, too? Alive one moment, and then a husk without a soul next. You don’t think you could handle seeing cold, dead eyes where the annoying, warm shine should be. Of course it would be better if he stayed away, if he had half the mind to. Even most of the children have heard enough from their mothers to stay a healthy distance. He’s not too much better than a child, though.

“Isn’t it?” he says. His cheek is smudged with whatever sort of dirt he’s got on his hands and under his nails. “I’m done with work for the day. Want to go out to the field?”

You two have always ran off and avoided your life in between willowy, flaxen wheat stocks. They were just tall enough at this time of year to hide you away. But, for some reason, your stomach does a quick flip at the thought of being outside. It’s silly; couldn’t he find you here, too? “I’m busy,” you say. You’d already kneaded this roll of dough plenty, but you dig your fingers into it and begin again.

“Busy?” he scoffs, “Since when are you too busy to get away from work?”

Gritting your teeth, you let the sounds of your kneading answer. Now, more than ever, he should keep his distance. You know one thing that you’re sure nobody else does: Death’s come to visit. 

His brows shoot up in your peripherals. “I don’t get answers today?”

“I’m sorry,” you say, giving up working the over-kneaded dough only because your arms ache. “Why don’t you go talk off the ear of some other poor village girl? I’ve heard as much as I can handle today. And then when that one’s tired, you can bother the next, I’m sure.”  You soften the words with a quick smile his way. No matter how many times you say something sour in hopes that it’ll send him away, as soon as you glance up at his face, you reel it in.

His company is all you’ve ever had. The least you can do for him is make sure he doesn’t end up like carrion, even if he chooses to take that risk himself. You don’t know why he does.

Voice playful, he says, “I’m glad to hear that you believe I’ve got ladies falling at my feet, but I’d rather not annoy a pretty girl, so you’re my only option.” He pokes at the sleeve of your simple cotton dress. “Should I drag you out of here? Don’t your arms hurt doing all that?”

“Oh, you are a refined man, aren’t you?” you say, shuffling out of his reach. Damn him, he makes it difficult. “Well, I am a pretty girl, so you should take yourself elsewhere.”

Soobin smiles easy. “I’m bored out of my mind. You’re just going to let me suffer?”

“That’s not my issue.”

“I’d argue that it is,” he says. “Come on. Why are you giving me a cold shoulder?” Leaning, he tries to get a look at your face. “Did I upset you? I wasn’t aware that you cared much about what I thought.” When you spare him a sharp glance, he says, “I think you are very, very beautiful. Would you stop ignoring me, now?”

You wish you could fall into the easy banter that comes with being around Soobin, but you can’t. You can’t let him be around you. “Soobin, stop it,” you say, draining your voice. You don’t look at him while you say it.

Going quiet, he seems to notice that today’s different. His gaze is heavy as he stares at you for a few long moments. Crossing his arms over his chest, he asks, “What happened?”

You swallow. “Nothing. I’m just doing something.”

“Oh, alright,” he says, tone inflicting in a way that says he doesn’t believe you one bit. He pushes off the counter. “I’ve put up with you pushing me away for years. You think I don’t know what you’re doing?”

“Soobin,” you warn. If you look at him, you fear you’ll be forced to watch the only one who never cared much what a risk it was being around you leaving. So you don’t.

Your friend raises his hands in the air defensively. “Okay, then.” He makes for the doorway with languid, lingering steps. As if he doesn’t want to leave. “Tomorrow..”

That’s both a threat and a promise, knowing him. Sighing and watching the rowan tree out your window sway, you bid him a curt goodbye.

If only that jerk took offense to things. It would make things an awful lot easier for you.

༺ ꘏ ༻

Being out in the wheat fields brings you peace when you’re alone, but you find it to be terribly lonely. The earthy, sweet scent of it wraps around you, and the stalks whisper against each other in a soothing way.

When you look beside you, the patch of wheat imprinted with the shape of your bodies is empty on his side. You are quite weak; it makes you want to go knocking at his door for his company. But that would be the selfish thing to do, so you card your fingers between the golden straw instead.

A chill trickles down your spine. You feel his presence before you even see him; it’s a feeling that you used to get fleetingly, as if something far away was tugging at you. But then he became real, a living thing in front of you that can touch, and that is much different.

“Why is it that I always find you out in the wilderness?” Yeonjun says. His voice comes from behind you.

Has he been watching you? You stand and dust your bottom off, heart kicking to life. “It’s nice out here,” you say. In truth, you haven’t come outside since that day. You’ve dodged Soobin and made a million excuses as to why you won’t go anywhere past the fences of your home. “I like to… watch people go about their days. It’s interesting.” It’s true—you always watch from afar how the village folk interact. How groups of girls your age link arms and whisper to each other, how neighbors come together to fix up a shoddy fence. You watch them be a community that you are not a part of. Watching it tastes bitter sometimes, but mostly you take pleasure in imagining yourself there with them. You’re not sure why you try making small talk with him, but what else? Should you go running again? If you were to listen to your pattering heart, maybe that’s what you’d do. He’s hardly shown you any bad will, though, and he’s the one that’s come to you. Maybe it’s silly to wait until something bad happens to be cautious.

A thousand pounds in stones sit at the center of your chest, though, and his voice makes them feel lighter. Why on earth that is, you’re not sure. It’s a nice relief regardless.

He smiles. It's different from the ones he showed you before. It’s knowing; more sweet than cracking over his face like the smile you would expect from the likes of him. What use might he have in being sweet? “Could I join you?”

Blinking dumbly at him for a second, you nod. “Oh, uh… Yeah.” Settling back down into your spot, you spare him a few curious sideways glances.

The breeze billows over the gold stems, moving them like gentle waves over the ocean and blowing your hair in it too. The flattened bits rustle under his weight. He doesn’t even turn his face toward the village; instantly, his gravitational eyes are on you.

“Do you come here often?”

“I do,” you answer. Mostly when you and Soobin have too much to do and not enough will to do it. “It’s nice. The village doesn’t like me much, so it’s easier out here.” You don’t mention that mostly you don’t come here alone.

Yeonjun’s face becomes far away. It looks strikingly like somebody forced into an old, unpleasant memory. “Don’t like you?” he asks, “What reason would they have for that?”

“They fear me. Things go wrong around me, that’s all.” You pluck at the hay absentmindedly. “Things die. They’re smart to stay away.”

The hay whispers much louder for the long moment he remains quiet, digesting what you’ve said. Maybe deciding what to say, considering that it’s his fault.

“Die?” he asks, voice inflected with surprise.

Turning to him, your brow creases. Shouldn’t he know? He’s the one that’s done it to you. “Everything that gets too close ends up dead. Everything,” you say, resting your temple on your knee. “So, I guess, I just keep it all at arm’s length.” You look back at your tiny village, a collection of familiar, un-familiar thatch-roof homes. 

Continuing to blink at you, his eyes narrowed in a strange grimace, Yeonjun says, “Death follows me, too.”

What? A laugh of disbelief bubbles up in your chest. Of course, death follows him. You cover your mouth with a hand to obscure your laugh, but you just giggle at him harder.

A laugh twitches at the corners of his mouth, too. “I mean it,” he says. The lines of his face become distant again, eyes both trained on your face and melancholic as if the sight reminds him of something.

It ignites a question in your mind about something he said in the forest. “You said that I reminded you of somebody,” you say, testing the waters. “Who?”

A muscle feathers in his jaw. He looks away, as if he can’t look at you while he says it. “I loved a girl from this village once. When I was human, no less than you.”

You falter, mouth falling open to ask all the questions that flurry through your thoughts. You settle on one. “You were human?”

“I was,” he says ruefully. “And I had everything. I had the love of my life. I think that even the most bitter of creatures on this island had envy for our love. She would braid dandelions into my hair, and then I’d braid them into hers.” He swallows thickly and pauses, as if the wound was still festering and fresh. “And then she died. She died starting our family. She died because of me, in my arms.”

You don’t know what to say, so you just look into his shining eyes as if that’ll help. You’re not very useful with people, much less comforting them.

“I couldn’t accept that. I wouldn’t. So I went where I shouldn’t have gone, and angered something much bigger than myself. They thought it would be a fitting punishment for me to live an eternity, the King of Death who could not bring back his dead lover.” The harrowed look that he gives you, only briefly, has your chest heavy all over again. “They have a sense of humor, the forces.”

You imagine what it would’ve been like for him to lose his lover in that way. How far he’d gone to try and have her back, but death does not give back. Where had he gone to have been turned into this? An immortal thing, forced to roam the world and scoop up the souls of the living for an eternity? To be bound in ancient bones and made to remember forever how you had lost your lover?

The grandness of what you want to say is too big, but all those words feel pitying and patronizing in a way that you don’t think will actually bring him any comfort. Rather, you doubt anything you say will be able to patch up a wound older than you could imagine. Simply, you offer him a raw, “I’m so sorry.”

Yeonjun lets a crooked smile replace the trembling at his lips. “As long as I live, so too will she,” he says, placing his palm over his heart. “Death doesn’t so much happen when we leave behind our bodies, but when we’ve left the minds of the living.” Narrowing his eyes at you, he brushes hair behind your ear with his knuckles. “I know she lives on, somewhere out there. Somewhere. I’ll find her.”

That intrigues you. “Is there some way that you could bring her back?”

The grim light in his eyes tells you his answer. “My curse is to take life,” he says, “not to give it. But the one who made me this, he is cruel in a twisted way. If I were to find her, as a human or an animal or a blade of grass in the forest, only then could I rest.”

It is cruel. “You’ve been searching, then,” you conclude. “When you find her, you’ll both be able to rest.” But how could he find her, if as he says, she could be any living thing? Where would he even begin?

Slowly, he shakes his head, throat bobbing. “Death needs a farrier.”

She would become what he is. You swallow thickly. Was it not him who caused the deaths that follow you? Or, at least, it was not on purpose?

Opening your mouth, you go to tell him that you’ll help him look. You’re sure you’ll be of no help. He’s spent an immortal lifetime searching, and he still hasn’t found his dead lover. Nobody would know better than him where to look.

The ground shakes beneath your palms with impact, and something cuts through the wheat. The noise of its bleating becomes nearer until the both of you scramble up to find out what’s in such distress.

A deer stumbles around wildly. It looks lame, but you don’t see anything wrong with its legs. Your throat tightens at the awful sound, piercing and sad. Frozen, you watch it try to stay upright before it finally collapses down, legs still kicking as though it still wants to run but its body has begun weakening on it. “Oh my god,” you say, stumbling back. The sounds; its sounds are awful, echoing in your bones and constricting your thoughts until they’re a pinched panic.

There’s an arrow lodged into its ribcage, deep and at a terrible angle. You already know that it’s pierced some vital organs, if not its heart. It continues to writhe on the ground, not ready to give up. You’re not sure if you should approach it—you don’t want to scare it, and you can tell by the look in its wet eyes that it already wants to be away from you.

Or, maybe it had come to you. How else had it found the two of you in the middle of this field?

Yeonjun’s already on it. He puts his knees into the dirt and dried wheat to kneel by it, running his hand over the beast's pelt in long strokes. The small buck flinches at first but relaxes once he learns that his touches are gentle, not the gnashing of hungry teeth ready to make him a meal.

Blood runs like lead through your veins. You say, “Can we help it?”

He shakes his head. “He’ll die.”

Whip-lashed, you swallow thickly. He says it so unphased, and you’re sure he is. You can hardly make yourself mirror that serenity that he exudes as he runs his hand over its flank, but you get on the ground beside him anyway.

The buck’s breaths slow to desperate drags for breath. For a few long minutes, the two of you sit in silence and stay with him until he no longer fights, until his breaths are ragged. You feel his side, still warm and alive, but you see the life going from his eyes. You sit here, talking to each other about nothing just so it hears gentle voices as it goes, for a while.

Eventually, he’s gone. Quiet and at peace, no longer hurting. This time, when you look over to Yeonjun who still smooths over the deer’s skin even as he goes, guiding him delicately into whatever greets us when we go, you see death as a gentle thing.

༺ ꘏ ༻

Though you never seek him out, Yeonjun always finds you. In hidden places, away from prying eyes, he appears behind you and makes himself known. Well, you have a feeling that he watches you for a while before saying anything. It’s hard not to feel the strange tingling of his gaze over your form. It’s akin to the sixth sense that’s supposed to keep you safe out in the dark hearts of forests, an innate feeling that tells you some beast with a rotten, pale maw watches you between the trees.

Yeonjun doesn’t feel rotten, though, preternatural and eerie as he is. As you shirk your duties and talk with him for hours, you stare into ancient eyes and watch his crooked mouth move around his words and you feel an odd comfort. As if he’s the only one who’s ever understood you, or maybe that your strangeness pales beside him and for once you’re nothing but who you are. So many nights, the sun fell on your talking until the night insects buzzed from the grasses and your eyes were heavy.

Sometimes, as you dozed off with your back to a hay bale or a hardwood wall of the abandoned home beside yours with its sagging thatched roof, you caught such festering longing in his his eyes that you’d let your lashes fall and pretend to sleep so that you could imagine what it was that he longed for. No doubt his lost lover. When you imagine him, bound in bones and coming back to haunt the living for an eternity as he mourns her infinitely, searching for her in impossible places, your chest aches with a gnawing intensity.

It’s a terrible, cursed existence. Even the nothingness of death becomes a paradise beside it.

“Is it scary?” you ask into the air, sat criss-crossed on the thick duvet of the bed. He sits across from you, looking perfectly lazy. Moonlight pools in like sterling mist through the shutters.

“What?” He watches you, sitting in your plain dress, as though you’re the only thing in the world.

You’ve begun to wonder. Wonder about those looks he gives you.

Shifting, you fix the shoulder of your soft chemise where it’s slipped down when you catch his eyes lingering on it. His throat bobs. “Dying,” you elaborate. “Is it really nothing? After we go, all of it was for nothing?”

A slow smile tugs his full lips, made a bit red in the middle where he likes to worry it. It’s such a human habit to see on something so far from human. “Hardly,” he says. “It’s like going home, right where your soul is supposed to be. Who do you think rides with me?”

Furrowing your brows, you tilt your head toward one shoulder and let your hair pool there. “The riders are dead?” You had thought they were undead in some way like Yeonjun, other sorts of revenants come back to life with their own purposes. Then, are their creepy horses dead, too? A chill goes down your arms. Sometimes, sitting here with him when his face is made soft by the orange glow of the fire he puts on, you forget what he is.

“They are.” He nods, leaned back onto his elbows, his eyes alight with a hunger that makes your insides feel funny. “It doesn’t stop once we’ve died. You don’t need to be scared, my love. So many things end, but then so many things begin. The earth no longer holds you down, the weight of being is gone. You don’t know anything like it; you don’t know leaving behind the pleasures of earth to know the ones that only the afterlife can show you.”

His eyes laced with something entirely else, he adds, “And it’s not the end. Not for everything. For some it’s only the beginning, and for others, those who have not yet fulfilled their purpose, they come back to the flesh. They return.”

You can’t tell if he means himself, or something else. The weight in his eyes, dark, endlessly swirling pools, makes you wonder again why it is that he’s lingering here: the place that he had not visited once since the death of his lover, for the fact that it still hurts too much. Why his shadow of death, his fault or not, was tangled in your soul enough to brush its fingers over the things around you.

“It’s scary,” you say, breathy. The thought of eternity.

Soft hairs brush over his eyes as he tilts his head at you. “Do I scare you?”

“No.”

“No?” he echos, pushing himself up so that he leans back onto his palms. “Isn’t that strange? Pretty little thing says she’s not afraid of death, but her heart races when I’m near. Her sweet heart jumps at just the brush of my leg. Are you sure you’re telling me the truth, love?”

Your blood roars in your veins, inflaming your cheeks and making your head dizzy. Nobody’s ever looked at you like that before. Hair prickles on your skin. “Yes,” you breathe.

Feral delight sparks in his eyes, black as pitch. His smile turns up all feline at the crooked corners. “Crawl to me, then.”

Like how fire licks up oxygen in any room it is in, his words steal the breath right from your lungs. What does he think you are? You blink at him wide-eyed and dumb for a moment.

How can he say that as though it were nothing? Moreover, how does the ravenous flare in his eyes, his head tilted back as he watches you down his nose expectantly, do that to your belly?

Your mind glazes over with something thick and heady, and you damn the nerves in your belly and begin to crawl from your end of the bed to his. His tongue darts out to wet his lips, making sure you feel every inch of the taunt in his eyes as he trains them on you. When you’ve gotten to him through the thickness in the air, you settle into his lap and bracket his waist with your thighs.

Yeonjun takes the soft fat of your hips in his fingers. “Fuck,” he says. It sounds like he’s barely holding the gates on something endlessly consuming. Something that might break loose on the two of you, and leave you changed forever with its hungry, gnashing teeth. His head hits your collarbone. “Tell me to stop. Please, tell me to go. Because I don’t know how.”

“Don’t,” you say. “Don’t stop. I want it, Yeonjun. I want this.”

He straightens, pupils blown and eyes as tense as his set jaw. “No, you don’t understand what you’re asking for. All I’ve ever done is ruin. All I’ll ever do is ruin. I won’t ruin you; not again.”

That rings bells somewhere outside the heavy fog that’s infiltrated your mind, but they don’t sound too alarming when he looks as though he wants to drag his teeth over your heart to taste its beating. It doesn’t touch the ground, when you want him to, so badly. So badly that you taste it on your tongue and it tinges your words as you tell him, “I do know what I’m asking for. I want you. Yeonjun. Don’t you want me too?” Voice and confidence wavering, you pull back. Maybe you’ve read this all wrong. A tickling shame crawls over your skull. “Do you not want me?”

“You think I don’t want you?” he says, straightening up and meeting your gaze. His breath is hot on your mouth. “I want you so fucking bad. You are in the marrow of my bones. Fuck, I have done nothing but want you, but I am foul. I will only hurt you.”

He takes your hand and places it over his chest, where a heart should be. Beneath your palm, you do not feel the thumping of an alive thing. Yeonjun has no heart. You knit your brows and examine the strain of his features. Does he think that you’ll be disgusted? Maybe the girl you were in that forest might’ve been, but being near Yeonjun has changed you in ways you couldn’t start to put your finger on. “I’m asking you to,” you say. “Show me what you want to do to me. What you’ve wanted to do to me.”

Searing silence burns between you as he drinks that in, and then he shoves you onto your back. Supporting himself with an arm beside your head, he curls his fingers into your hip and nudges your thighs wider. He doesn’t lift the hem of your chemise like you expect him to. No—Yeonjun begins to grind himself into your cunt through all the layers of your clothes. Though your dress is bunched up and his pants lay between any real contact, Yeonjun’s hard and that friction tastes fleetingly sweet.

“I want you to beg me for it,” he says, grinning down at you with cruel intention. “Beg me, and make it so pretty.”

You let little sounds linger in that back of your throat and become hungrier each time he grinds against you. It’s so much, mind swimming and sparks spraying up your spine, and yet each time it is not near enough. Damn that foxish smile on his face; you beg for him anyway. “Yeonjun,” you breathe, curling your fingers around the wrist of that hand with which he pins your hip. “P…lease, will you help me? It feels so good; I want more, please.”

He raises his eyebrows at you and an eager grind comes right over your throbbing clit. 

You know he wants more than that, but mortification already is making your voice unsteady and your cheeks burn. “Yeonjun,” you huff, hips wiggling.

The king of the undead delights fully in your shame and rewards you with more of those pointed, dry grinds. Your legs tremble; he’s giving you so little, and yet your need takes it and magnifies it into something grand.

Though he pretends he’s on some high ground, you hear his shuddering breaths each time his fucks his hips against you. He feels that roiling, liquid need in his belly just as vehemently as you do. The room fills with your breathy pants and grinding bodies. You catch your lip in your teeth and begin to meet him half-way. Your moans are low and sweet, and each one sends his jaw tighter. 

You twist and grind against each other like fumbling teens until you’re coiled up so tight that he has to pull himself away. Your throbbing cunt protests, but you know he doesn’t want you cumming like this.

“You want me to show you what I’ve wanted to do to you?” he says, working at his pants. His eyes are so drunk on you, and his cheeks betray his state. “Open your legs, my love. Let me show you a little death.”

Throat gone dry, you slowly let your thighs fall open. The dull throbbing between your thighs roars to life. He slides your skirt up your leg, stopping when he frees your knee to pepper a few hot kisses into it. Once he’s got it bunched up at your ribcage, he runs his tongue over his dry lips to wet them. “Fuck. Such a pretty pussy. I want to fucking eat you up.”

“Yeonjun,” you whine. His name is all you can muster out, anticipation sharpened to a knife point.

Flashing his teeth, he purrs, “You like that, you filthy thing. I bet you’d like for me to fuck you till your brain’s gone and all that’s left is my name. Isn’t that right? Is that what you want?”

Your thoughts stall and you nod, making your mouth into a filthy pout. God, how you want that. Maybe he’s right about you being filthy. Coming from him, it sounds like a delicious thing to be.

The pretty, leaking tip of his cock brushes your clit as he slides it up and down your slit to collect the mess there. Your thighs jump to close before your mind gets the better of it. He does this a few times—up and down, letting you feel and get used to the size and length of him all the way till his cockhead kisses your clit and you squeak.

“Are you comfortable, love?” he asks, shifting your hips with strong hands. “Do you need anything from me?”

It’s so at odds with his other, nastier words. Your head spins, the moonlight blurring. “I’m okay,” you tell him. “I… just want you. Want you to put it in, want to feel you.”

His cock catches on your hole, and he begins to push forward with promising pressure. But then he pulls back, smiling downturned. You whine; why can’t he save his capriciousness for later? You’d almost had it…

“I could give it to you, or I could not…” He hums. “Wouldn’t that be so cruel of me? To leave you wanting?”

You flutter around nothing. Every inch of your body buzzes. Alive. You are more alive now, at the promise of Death’s touch, than ever before. The irony might be something to wonder about if you weren’t dribbling down onto the bed sheets with crude need. “Stop it,” you say. Your voice is whiny. You’re glad you can hardly hear yourself past the pounding in your bloodstream.

That delights the King of Death. He wrinkles his nose at you, burning you alive with his eyes as he presses his palm to your belly and guides himself into you with his free hand. You wrap around each inch of him slowly. The air between you bows under the weight of your gazes; he holds your eyes the whole way, inch by inch until he’s seated fully into you with his groin flush to your body. He stretches you to fit, and yet it’s just right. You could ask for no more or no less; you might even think your body was made for him, were you not too busy circling your hips to feel him.

“Good?” he says, squeezing your hip. “Do you need a moment?”

Pursing your lips, you test out the shape of him with another wiggle. “Maybe… Maybe a second.” Truth be told, you need a moment to grapple with the sparks sprinkling over your mind more than you need a moment to adjust to his stretch. You let out a shuddering breath.

He traces circles into your belly, just beneath your navel. The pad of his thumb goes round and round, warm on your flesh. “As long as you need,” he says, but it’s more like a triumphant, playful coo. There’s that lopsided smirk. One day, you’d like to kiss it off him. Taking that hypnotizing finger, Yeonjun trails it up your stomach, over your ribcage. He hooks it beneath your dress and drags it higher, revealing the soft swells of your breasts to the air. You shudder, body so, so hot that your nipples peak and tighten against the cool air.

“Such pretty tits,” he says, brushing his knuckle up the underside of one. “Everything about you. Such a pretty, pretty body. God, I don’t know if I want to worship it or ruin it.” His breaths fan over your skin as he bends down and pops an eager nipple into his mouth, lavishing it before releasing it with a lewd pop and letting his mouth fall all over your breast. Lick here, nip there, until you’re squirming adequately and squeezing him like a virgin. Then he blows cool air over it and watches with eyes like a cat toying with its prey as you shudder harder, your chest jumping. “Fucking look at you,” he sneers.

“Junnie,” you say, lost for breath. You think you’ve walked yourself into the lion’s den.

His breathy laughs fall over your breast. Taking his teeth, he drags them over your skin, right over where your heart thunders a rhythm fully for him, and then he bites. Nothing more than a shallow mark, the shape of his teeth in your soft tit. He lingers there, admiring the sight before he straightens himself up again.

“Fine.” He pulls out of you slowly, but you know what comes after that, so you savor every second of it. “I suppose you’ve wanted after it long enough. Let me hear your sweet voice again, my love.”

Yeonjun fucks you just right. His cock nudges right up on your sweet spot as if he’s done this before. Like he knows where to find it. You gasp and whine—you’re just happy he’s finally giving you something. 

“Oh, fuck,” you mewl. His shoulders wear the red crescent marks of your nails. “That’s—so good right there.”

Ever egotistical and cocky, he croons, “Yeah?” Rolling himself back, he makes it his mission to hit it ruthlessly.

A sharp, pitchy sound comes tumbling past your lips. You bring your hand up over your mouth, letting your eyelids dust your burning cheeks so that you can brave the flipping in your spine and deep in your belly. It’s nearly insufferable—the way pleasure licks up your spine, how it spreads out into your veins and takes control of you.

“No,” Yeonjun growls. “Don’t you dare close your eyes. Let me see that look in your eyes when you cum.”

Your eyes are heavier than they’ve ever been, but you open them. The sight that greets you is worth the effort. Yeonjun’s lip twitches and then he throws his head back, the column of his neck on display as his Adam's apple jumps around a thick swallow.

If that sight wasn’t enough to send you teetering down into whatever depths of lust and ecstasy that he crawled out from, then the angle he hits as he pushes one of your thighs to your chest is. The world frays, deep tremors starting at one small point in your cunt and then exploding up through your stomach and down the back of your thighs. Your chest arches off the bed and you mewl helplessly, fighting and embracing your orgasm in an intoxicating death.

“Oh, fuck,” Yeonjun growls, strained with something whinier as he watches you shake beneath him. “Fuck. I’m gonna—fuck, I’m gonna cum…” His voice chokes as his hips become stuttered more than pointed, the slick sounds of your own release tangling up with his grunts and pants until he shudders and stills, cumming into your puffy, fluttering cunt.

You both catch your breaths as if there’s no air in the room left for a while. His hair’s damp on his forehead, as is yours on your neck, and his eyes droop lazily. More lazy and content than you’ve ever seen him.

Collecting you to his chest, where only your heart thumps away frantically, he presses his mouth to your ear and says, “Do you think death is so scary now?”

With your limbs nothing more than boneless and liquid pleasure floating slowly through your thoughts, you smile.

A little death can be more visceral than living, you think.

༺ ꘏ ༻

The tree stump beneath you makes your tailbone ache. You sit criss-crossed, watching Soobin work away at the soil and tend to that section of the fence that’s begun to rot and sag. Your mouth moves endlessly, filling the space that would otherwise just be made up of his grunts of hard work.

“You know, you ought to help me if you’re just going to sit and watch,” he says, straightening to swipe at his forehead, sweaty despite the cold in the air.

“Totally improper,” you say, smiling at him cheekily. “Are you saying that you can’t handle yourself, strong man?”

He glares at you with the venom only somebody made to put up with hours of chatter could muster. “What’s got you so talkative?” he says.

You know he means why you’re suddenly not glaring him away. You can’t tell him that you’ve spoken with Death himself, so instead you say, “Nothing.” Letting your legs dangle down, you smile at him.

Yeonjun hadn’t done any of it. It’s a comfort, to some degrees, to know that. It’s not your fault that they died. Being around them, being around Soobin, won’t make them turn up dead. The rest of them still don’t know that—and they wouldn’t believe it, anyway—but the black shadow hanging over your shoulders dissipates.

For the first time in so, so long, you do not feel marked by death.

“Sure.” His smile tilts. “A week ago, you wouldn’t even look at me.”

Rolling your eyes, you decide to give him a hard time. “Not true. You just have a way of getting on my nerves.”

“I take pride in that.”

“Take pride in what? Being insufferable?”

Crinkling his nose, he says, “Knowing how to bother you best.”

“Get back to work, stupid.” Your heart soars. It’s good to have friends. To let yourself have friends is an ever better thing. Is this how it is? To be with others and not feel like their burden, or like they’re crossing their fingers behind their back to ward off whatever bad things you might bring onto them? He’s made it his mission to hover around you no matter what, but this feels different.

Maybe, for so long, part of it has been your own gloom that’s obscured it all. Maybe if you didn’t bare your teeth to anybody who got too close, it could’ve been like this always. You hate to think that your own isolation could be some part your own fault. But how were you not to show your teeth when someone tried to reach their hand out to you?

It doesn’t matter now. You shove that all down and let yourself feel the slight warmth of the sun’s glow on your skin where it peeks through the clouds. It’s a nice day, you shouldn’t ruin it with those thoughts.

The sun’s begun making its descent when Soobin’s done. He takes a long drink of water, hissing with relief and crumpling down to the ground with his back to your stump.

“Are you making any way with that girl you were talking to me about?” you prompt.

Giving you a long look over his shoulder, he says, “Don’t.”

“What?” You laugh a little, raising your brows down at him. “I’m not doing anything.”

“You know what you’re doing,” he says, voice flat as he picks stickers out of his fingers.

Soobin’s had a thousand different crushes. There was that daughter of the shepherd, and then the wealthy merchant’s daughter and her long pretty hair, and then the neighbor… Well, you could go on. None of them ever really came to fruition for the poor guy. He thinks that it’s because he’s a poor farmer’s son, but you always tell him that it’s because he’s got an insistent mouth, and that he should be more grateful that you deal with him. Your lips turn up at the corners a little thinking about it—he’ll find the one eventually, but you like the indignant look on his face when you say it.

“I mean it!” you say, nudging him with your leg. “Tell me. I want to know.”

“You won’t even tell me what’s happening with you. Until one of us quits keeping secrets,” he says, placing accusation heavy over the words, “I’ll keep my dealings to myself. What’s it to you, anyway?”

Feeling the weight of his head as he lets it loll lazily against your thigh, you decide that it couldn’t hurt to tell him. The itch to tell somebody crawls under your skin. Especially to tell him. “You know the other day? When I was… being awful?”

His body shakes with a vindicated laugh. “If you’re nothing else, at least you’re self-aware.”

You skirt around that with your own, more awkward, laugh. It’s nice that he thinks so, but you don’t feel it. “Stop,” you huff and nudge him again. “I was foraging out where I usually go. But I guess I wandered out farther than I thought I did. You remember when they used to tell us stories, right? Like the bogeyman. That he’d come snatch us up if we didn’t listen.” Your mom especially had loved that one, back when she cared what became of you. Would she care again, if you told her that everything was fine? “Well, I don’t know if you remember the one about The Wild Hunt, but… Anyway, I was picking some stuff, and…”

Sitting up from his exhausted slouch, Soobin looks like he’s suddenly come back to life. “What?” he interrupts. His voice is strangely serious.

“What?” you say, brow creasing. “They travel here and there… but they were here. In the woods. Like, I heard them.”

Tersely, he asks, “What were you doing that deep in the woods?”

“I mean, I just kept on finding nice stuff until I just… was deeper.” You survey him. You hadn’t thought that he’d react like this. “So I ran, and then there was this guy,” you say, watching realization fall over his face. He knew those stories as much as you do—knew where you were going with this. He is as starkly superstitious as the rest of your people, you forgot. Pushing past the grimace on his face, you say, “And I knew that he was the king. The one from the stories. It was so weird; it’s like you can feel it. And I spoke to him, and then…”

Stood up now, he cuts you off once more. “Are you kidding?”

“Why are you being like that?” you say, messing with your skirts to quell the defensive bite in your tone. “I didn’t do anything.”

“You didn’t do anything? Are you trying to get killed?” He throws up his hard-working hands. “We have rules for a reason. Don’t go out into the forest, don’t make deals with faeries, don’t follow a banshee scream. And then you go and talk to the king of death? How am I not supposed to be upset about that? You know that…” Soobin blinks a few times as if second-guessing what he’s about to say, but he says it anyway. “You know that he’s the reason that they treat you how they do. You know that he’s the one who ruined your life. Why would you ever mess with that?”

You push yourself up from the ground, eyes burning. That stings like a cut. “He didn’t do it. None of it is his fault,” you say, furrowing your brows. “What are you trying to say, Soobin? Just say what you want to say. Come on.”

“He didn’t do anything?” He scoffs, letting a heavy silence hang suspended in the air for a moment before saying, “Is that what he told you? And you just believed it? Listen to yourself, does that make any sense? He’s played with your life like it’s some fucking toy, and now he’s come to rub it in your face. Think about it: do animals just fly into anybody else’s windows and die? Do the trees that they pick from just end up dead? It’s his fault that they all treat you the way you do.”

Mouth opening and closing, you don’t know what to say. 

He sees the hurt in your burning eyes and tries to reel it back in. “What I’m trying to say is—”

“I know what you’re saying,” you say, grabbing up the lunch you’ve been nibbling on. “I know exactly what you’re saying. I just never thought you’d say it out loud.”

“Say what?” Soobin says, his voice raising behind you as you storm off.

That you think it’s my fault, you want to say. That they all die because I am a plague, and you are a charity worker for being my friend. Instead, you just leave and try to choke down the tightness in your throat.

༺ ꘏ ༻

You curl your arms around yourself, the night biting cold. Yeonjun had dragged you from bed, and who knows what hour of the night it is? If the heaviness beneath your eyes is to judge it by, it’s far too deep in the dead of night to be outside with your boots half-laced and nothing but your sleep chemise on.

You might’ve just stayed wrapped up in your blankets if you weren’t so lonely as you’ve been. Soobin’s been scarce. The most you see of him is in the fields from morning to afternoons. You hope that he’ll stop by your doorstep and knock so that you can groan about it but swing the door open anyway each time, but he doesn’t. He thinks that you won’t want to see him, and so he allows you your space.

That couldn’t be further from the truth. It’s hard to be the one to come back after a conversation like that, though. You watch him from the windows and hope he understands at some point instead. It’s an awful lot easier.

Other than preparing meals and window watching, you’ve been up to nothing much at all. You hadn’t realized how much you had, but you feel him in his absence. 

“It’s cold…” you say. The fog of breath that punctuates it makes your point. Whatever he’s brought you out here for, you have no doubt it’ll be something strange. The grin on his face tells you as much.

Leading the way, he heads for the Darkwood. “Only you would come rushing out without a cloak for your shoulders.”

“Well, only you would drag me from my nice, warm bed at this time of night. For what?”

“Can’t anything be a surprise with you?” he says, shooting you a cheeky glance over his shoulder. “Surprises are fun.”

“Surprises!” you say, working your legs to catch him. “Not surprises that involve you bringing me out into the woods. You know, it’s awfully suspicious. Somebody who sees this might think that I am the type to… sneak out with men.”

“Aren’t you now?”

Your lips tug down. “You know what I mean.”

He laughs in his airy way, a twig snapping under his foot. You’re well in the woods, now. Probably somewhere near where you’d first met him.

Lifting a brow, you look at him expectantly. Maybe a will-o’-the-wisp will come floating through with its light bouncing off the trees. That would be a nice surprise, you admit.

Yeonjun circles you. His presence behind you tingles in the way it always does, but true chills erupt when his breath puffs against your ear. “Close your eyes. I have something I want to show you.”

Your mind wanders back to what Soobin had gotten so twisted up about. It might be naive and reckless and against everything you ever learned, but you let your eyes fall shut to blackness. If he was going to hurt you, you imagine he’d have had that opportunity a mind-numbing amount of times before.

“Are they shut?” he asks, waiting for your nod. His voice comes from in front of you now. “I want you to keep them shut. You can’t open your eyes, or it will all go away. Okay?”

“Okay,” you breathe, mind full of a bounty of questions. You don’t even know where to begin to assume what he’s got going on, so you stand there shifting your antsy feet.

There’s a strange, rustling sound that catches you off guard with your eyes closed. It drags on for a long moment. Curiosity pries at your eyes; you want nothing more than to just crack an eye open to spy the source of the ruckus. 

It’ll be gone if you do, anyway.

You let out a surprised squeak as something rises up beneath you, as if risen from nothing more than the dirt and roots of the forest floor, bringing you up from the earth. You wobble and send your hands out to find a perch.

A horse. It’s a horse, its mane so tangled and windswept, but matted and clumped with leaves that crunch under your palm when you find them. It reeks of mud—everything around you begins to smell of earth and decomposition.

You know that if you open your eyes, you’ll find yourself sat upon the pale white steed of the Undead King, its eyes white and its knobby knees almost as famous as the leader of The Hunt himself. It chuffs beneath you.

“Are you ready?” Yeonjun says over your shoulder. You can hear the feral grin in his voice. It’s the leader of The Hunt, a creature of folklore, that sits behind you now. He curls an arm around your waist and tugs you closer to him, securing you against the wall of his chest. “Hold on tight, my love.”

The call of the wild, that horn, bellows again like it had the first time you heard it. Rather than coming from nearby as you thought it would, it dances between trees far off just like it had that time, too. Your heart jumps up into your throat.

Taking off with a howl, the Wild Hunt follows it.

You dig your fingers into Yeonjun’s at your waist. Weight melts away, and you know you’re in the air. Your belly swoops in tandem with the howls and hoots of the riders, heart palpitating to the hoofbeats. How there’s hoofbeats as you ride through the air, you’re not sure. The ghostly fleet manifests around you in vivid imagery, though you squeeze your eyes shut. They are wild enough to imagine just what they might look like: with their clothes and flesh in tatters, with their eyes beady or pale, with their hounds piercing the air with their calls and running alongside them, they are a perfect personification of freedom.

Whip-lash sends you reeling, body going rigid. You grit your teeth and squeeze your eyes harder, wishing that you’ll touch ground soon and that everything would become real again.

Yeonjun feels you go stiff. Bringing his head back to your shoulder from his own delight, he says, “It’s okay. You’re okay. Let it into your bones. Do you think I would let it hurt you?”

He is their leader. If it got too much, you know Yeonjun would be there to catch you. Curling your fingers into his, you release that tension and allow their drumbeat to echo through you.

And when it does, your blood begins to sing along. The wind whips your cheeks and your hair, and you begin to laugh with them. The Hunt twists and turns and dances through the air, an apparition in the night, but nothing more than that.

It comes to a slow, eventually, until the noise and even your steed crumbles back down into the dirt it appeared from. Your eyes pop open hoping to catch at least a glimpse of them, but only the dark forest and pale moonlight answer. Your legs threaten to give out on you, veins still thrumming, but, oh, do you feel alive.

You feel more alive than you ever have, more than you ever could have hoped to have known. Mind spinning, you stumble. Yeonjun catches and steadies you before you can go scraping your knees on a rock.

“Oh my fucking god,” you say.

The laugh that Yeonjun breaks into has you sending him a glare, but you break too. Everything about him is ironic; and how ironic indeed that Death himself should show you how to be alive, rather than to just live?

༺ ꘏ ༻

The air is so fresh in your lungs when you step outside that it nearly burns. You clutch your basket of warm fig tarts. Songbirds trill and fly between tree tops that slowly become more bare the deeper you fall into the season, singing their sweet songs that sound like new beginnings.

Raising your hem from the ground churned up into mud from the afternoon’s trickle, you prance into town with a lively pep in your step. You spent all last night making these—Yeonjun had kept you company, watching you how he always does as you pored over making them just right. His cruel snicker when the jam had simmered over flame for too long and became too thick bounces off your bones in a sweet melody. You’ve come to adore his wicked delight, the way his smile cracks over his face and the facetious raise of his brows, more than you fear it.

Sending small smiles to the people that you pass, you stop by a huddle of kids digging sticks into the mud. They look up at you with curious eyes, stopping to gawk.

“Hey, guys,” you say, pulling back the cloth laid over the sweets. “I’ve made some fig tarts. Do you like fig? I bet you’ll like them; they’re sweet.”

The kids stand up, eyes big as they share a look. They don’t let out so much as a peep before they scurry off home.

You blink. Well, you’re used to weird reactions, but that was… different. Picking up your deflated shoulders and hesitant limbs, you make a shoddy attempt at not letting it dampen your good morning. You were expecting wary looks, anyway.

You head down a little further toward the far side of your home village, the side that breaks off after a fenceline into a great, grassy field. There’s a bustle, mothers washing their clothes in pails and hanging them up to dry and a few others whispering at each other lowly as they go about their days.

An old woman so old her back curves and her fingers have gone knobby makes her way to wherever the day’s duty demands her to be. Your neighbor—an eccentric old lady bound in her times. You decide on her: the elderly are forgotten by the young. She might enjoy knowing that her neighbors still know she exists.

“Hello,” you say, showing her your basket with a hopeful, excited heart. “I have some treats that I was wanting to give out. I know they might not be much, but would you like one? I’m not the best baker, but I do it often enough.” A face like that, dragged down by her years on this earth and not long to death, has no doubt spent many years making meals for her family. You imagine your goods would be nothing beside hers, but it’s the gesture, no?

“Oh, girl,” she says, voice crackling as she clutches her shawl tighter around her shoulders. “I’m afraid it’s best if you found yourself missing from this place. Hurry yourself up and spare the drama.”

The incessant cawing of a crow from a clawed tree fades into the background as you furrow your brows and lower your basket to ask, “...Huh?” Your belly goes up in knots; terrible knots done up tight and fast. You haven’t got a clue what she’s talking about. Elders always did speak a bit strange, though. It could be nothing much; she’s a stern old lady.

But her eyes are not angry and glaring in the way that a harrowed old hag might turn her nose up at the youth. They drag down with a cold pity.

“Listen to me, girl.” She points at you with one of those worn, sun-spotted hands. “You had best leave. The boy’s gone, and they are already not fond of you. Who will they point their fingers to?” the woman says. “I hardly know you, but I would hate to see it.”

The rest of her words fade into the roaring in your ears, the feral drumbeat of your heart like a wardrum in the cage of your ribs as it beats against them as if to escape from you. You don’t feel the basket in your hands, don’t feel the solidity of the earth beneath your feet, and don’t feel a single one of your thoughts like tangible things. They flit as if liquidated into a rotten, sick mush.

Nothing. You can think of nothing. Nothing real; nothing holding you to the earth.

“What?” Your voice hardly reaches your ears, but what does is weak and broken and like a plea for her to tell you that it’s not really what you think it is.

And if you could see or hear anything beyond your fraying little rift in reality, you would’ve heard the man coming up to you. You would’ve heard the words coming from his angry, sneering mouth, and would’ve done something when he picked up a pail of water, and you would’ve been shaken by the nasty ice water that runs down your frozen body and plasters your hair and clothes down as he pours it over you. But none of it cuts through your stupor.

He yells some awful, stabbing things at you, and a few others join him. They tell you that you are nothing but a plague, tell you to leave and to not come back here.

But this is your home. Where else would you go?

With your sopping wet dress clutched in your shaking fists as though that might keep you grounded, you choke down the tightening of your throat and sift through their faces, searching for his face. Those brown eyes, brown and always shining with nagging playfulness, do not come up anywhere. Jaw trembling, you search harder. Out on the field where he should be at this time of day, at your doorstep demanding that you go spend the day doing nothing with him, in someone’s yard helping them fix up a broken fence, no matter where you look, neither his broad silhouette nor his cheeky, dimpled face is there. You continue to stand stricken dumb, looking for him even though you know by the churning in your belly that it’s true, and you’re just hurting yourself trying to find him right where he should be.

Fine. Alive. Untouched by your disgusting, destructive presence.

When you can no longer fight the strangling tightness in your lungs and your dress is as heavy as your heart, you take off. The hem of your dress drags in mud and sticker bushes and catches on stray twigs, and you don’t know where you’re going, but you just run. You’ll give them what they want. 

You stumble, probably like some lost, undead thing, until you find yourself at the edge of the forest. Only then do you let the wall of whittle-edged tears roll down your face. And you assume you sound like a choking, dying animal with how you choke and heave on them, but he was the one you might’ve dropped your head and cried to, so what’s the use of making it pretty? No; you let it all fall as it is.

Soobin’s dead. Soobin’s dead, and it’s nobody else’s but your own fault. You clutch your chest to staunch that old ache that’s grown teeth and tears at your heart; you have and will always be the end of everything that comes near. You are just as much the plague that you began to pretend, to believe, you weren’t. It was your stupid hope that maybe you could have something and not watch it become carrion that drove that pick. It was by your hope that he’s gone.

The hair on your arms begins to raise. You pick your head up and find Yeonjun standing in front of you.

There’s a few beats of long, dreadful quiet as he takes in the state of you. He drags his eyes down and they become liquid flame—something different from the impious delight that he is made of. He becomes the King of Death.

“What happened?” he says. The chills on your arms prickle furiously at the words, furling out distant and yet furious like the center of the fire.

You shake your head, wiping your soaked cheek.

“What the fuck happened?” he growls again, taking your face into his hand. “Who did this? Who did this to you, my love? I need you to tell me who the fuck did this to you.”

Letting the venom in your mouth out, you shove his chest and say, “Get away from me. Don’t fucking touch me.”

Yeonjun’s face twists up, looking scalded. Not surprised, though. “Don’t do this,” he says. “Let me hold you while it hurts. Don’t push me away. I can’t… I won’t lose you again.”

All the pieces that you had been putting into the corners of your mind snap together at that. As many suspicions as you had, though, it feels sour hearing it confirmed from his mouth. That you are his dead past lover, reincarnated or whatever you are. That it was his presence—because even though he stayed away for centuries, a part of him still lingered with you—that now has torn down everything you ever thought you could love. He, standing there in front of you like a kicked puppy, is the ruination of your life in the flesh. The flipping of your stomach is nauseating.

“I hate you,” you spit. “I hate you so much.” You repeat it a few more times, and you sob it into his chest as he takes you into his arms. “Is this what you wanted? You’ve been waiting for this forever, haven’t you? To find me again, so that you can die and fucking leave me here. So that you can make me exactly what you are, while you get your peace. You are a liar and a thief. All you’ve ever done is steal and take. How could you do it? Huh? Tell me…” Your voice trembles and staggers off. “Tell me how you made love to me, how you made me believe that you loved me, and all you ever wanted was to save yourself? You betrayed me.”

Pulling back, Yeonjun says, “No.”

“Yes,” you say, stumbling back away from him with a shaking, accusatory finger pointed at him. “Yes you did.”

Fingers itching to reach out to you, he holds them back by curling them into fists. “No. That’s not fair. I have spent an eternity loving you. I spent the entirety of my immortal, monstrous life searching for you, just so that I might find you in any form. I would have been glad to find you as a leaf in a tree, as long as I found you. But, then, I find you alive. Alive and back, as if… it never happened.” He steps toward you, aching to be near you. His voice wavers. “Please, don’t do this to me, love. Please, just let me have you again. I’ve waited… I’ve waited and I’ve waited, and I finally have you, and now you’re looking at me like I… Like I’d ever hurt you. Finding death—finally getting to die would be worth nothing if you weren’t there with me. It was never about that.”

“I could never love you,” you say, matching his steps forward with steps away from him. “I could never love a monster that does… Does nothing but kill. Take.”  You know your words are cruel, but you need them to be. You need him to hurt, you need him to go so far away from you that never again will you cause another living thing’s death. 

“You did.” Yeonjun’s mouth cracks into a pained smile, sharp at the corners. “You loved me just as much as I love you, once.”

“Just leave me. Leave me, and I wish to never see you again. If you love me, then you’ll give me that.” 

He looks at you, clever eyes intense and glassy, for a long time. And then he says, “Would that make you happy? Would it make it so that you could live a happy life, and find yourself something to live for?”

What’s left for you? A small village that won’t ever embrace you? No, it wouldn’t fix your life. But you open your mouth and tell him, “Yes.”

“Okay,” he says, brushing his knuckles over your cheeks reverently. He swallows in your features, running over them for what he knows is the last time he’ll be seeing you—the very last time he’ll see the face of his undying love. When he finally opens his mouth again, his voice is gentle. “I’ll leave you. If my being here hurts you, then I won’t be selfish. I love you, darling.”

Don’t go, you want to tell him. Please don’t leave. Please, hold me. But your mouth is dry, and you let the radiant hurt in your chest stop you. You let him go.

༺ ꘏ ༻

There’s only one place you can think of going to. It’s the only place your vagrant feet take you.

His spot still is held sacred by the flattened, gold wheat stalks. Your best friend, still living here on Earth in at least one way even if he’s not here to listen to your stupid rambling. And he would maybe complain, but he’d always listen.

The last thing you’d done was fight with him. What an awful thing—what an awful way to repay him for being the only one who ever dared to get close.

You sit in your spot, beside his, and rest your chin on your knees. If only the ground beneath you would open up and swallow you whole. You’d deserve it.

What’s left for you? Is there a place in the world that would keep you happily once they see what you do? No. There is not. You wish you knew what to do; you wish you had somebody to ask.

Releasing a long, tight breath, you just sit and wait for something to give you answers. A gentle breeze makes your hair dance, but it does not whisper anything to your ears. Something’s circling over head, but it doesn’t caw in the cadence of his laughter.

The day moves along without you. You’re not sure how long you sit, but it stretches somewhere between a few minutes and eternity. No matter how long you wait, there are no answers. No matter how long you mull over it.

Conceding, you begin to push yourself up from the ground. A rustle in between the foliage stops you before you stand.

A tawny hare leaps out in front of you. It sniffs around you, nose twitching. Then it stands back on its haunches. It stares straight at you, an intelligent light in its eyes that knits your brows. The wild thing stands there with a purpose that is uncharacteristic of a forest animal.

But entirely familiar in the face of your best friend. That shine in its eyes as it stands there, nose still twitching, makes your chest tighten up.

“Hey,” you say, as if it might answer you. Your eyes well up with hot tears again. Of course, it doesn’t. 

Maybe you’ve gone mad, but you know that it’s him. That idiot, coming to show you that he’s okay in the afterlife—to visit one last time and to let you know that you shouldn’t worry for him or cry for him. Look at me, full of life once again, he seems to say. The hare blinks its beady eyes. It lingers there for a long time, the ease of peace found in his gaze that Soobin hadn’t had in this life, saying that there is still something waiting out there for us once we go. You reach out a hand. He does not flinch as you scratch behind his ear.

“Okay,” you whisper. “I’m glad to know you’re alright. I know what I need to do, now.”

He blinks.

You laugh a hoarse, breathy laugh, familiar in only the way that Soobin could achieve. “You look stupid.”

Indignantly, the hare stomps a bratty foot in a way reminiscent of one of Soobin’s huffs before it settles back down onto its forelegs and scurries off. He goes to live out this new form of life, because it’s true: life does not end in death. He’s shown you that.

Maybe, like this, he’ll find that pretty lady that loves him the way he deserves. That loser.

༺ ꘏ ༻

You spend only one night in your home and you know that what you’ve chosen is right. After spending your day out in the field, you sneak under night’s cover into your husk of a room and let yourself sleep there under the covers one last time. When morning breaks through the window, you gather your weary bones up and leave. 

You run into your mother on the way out. She doesn’t yell at you to leave, but her eyes have gone cold. Colder than you’re used to. You’ve killed again, in every way that counts. So you don’t bother with bidding her or any of them any grand goodbyes. You couldn’t handle the relief you might find falling over them, should you.

Plopping down to the floor, you take a few bites of the cheese and bread lathered in sweet jam that you’d swiped from the kitchen. The grass is long and willows in the wind, bending and dancing prettily. It’s so soft; you enjoy the feeling of it beneath your fingers in your quiet serenity. The scent of it, fresh over the baseness of dirt, you breathe into your lungs.

It would be the loveliest place to spend the rest of eternity.

For the first time, Yeonjun appears in front of you rather than behind you. He materializes from nothing, his elbow on his knee as casual as if he’d been sat there the whole time. The darkness beneath his eyes seems heavier, but then again you know that exact heaviness. It sits right in the very center of you.

You both are quiet for a bit. You let the tall grass whisper, instead.

“Bread?” you say and slant your lips into a smile. Bringing it up, you offer it to him.

His smile wrinkles his nose and curls at the edges. Entirely him. Yeonjun accepts the bread, ripping a bite out before throwing it away into the sea of green. Once he’s chewed, he leans in and captures your lips in a kiss that’s utterly at odds with his sharp mouth. Your lips move over each other gently, save for an indulgent nip or bite here and there.

He pushes you back into a bed of sweetgrass, never letting your lips go. Not to breathe, not to say something that’ll pale in comparison to the sweetness of your mouths on one another. He kisses you until he’s had enough to fulfill a lifetime without it, and then some more.

“My love,” he whispers into your skin, his breath hot on your collarbone. “Mine,” he says, pressing a kiss into the column of your neck, and then he says it again with a hot kiss to the place where your dress suggests your breasts. He says it a handful more times as he pushes your skirts up your thighs. “My love forever. I waited for you so long, and I would do it again.” Lowering his voice to a honeyed whisper, he adds, “I would find you no matter what.”

Laughing softly, you run your fingers through his raven hair to better see his eyes. You know he would.

Gently giving you one more of his lingering kisses that make your skin tingle, right into your bare shoulder, he presses into you. You loose a soft breath, wrapping your arms around his shoulders. The beating in your chest slows to a content purr as he begins languid thrusts in and out of you, rolling pointedly and unhurried.

Yeonjun makes love to you in a thousand dusted kisses and sweet words, your hands holding each other’s soft edges. Yeonjun traces the lines of you, taking the pads of his thumb down your cheeks and your lips and then his hand over the swell of your breasts and down your belly and over your thighs. Clamping down on him as your belly grows tight in the way it had the first time you had done this, your thighs begin to shake.

 Breathlessly, as you hurdle over the edge, all that you can say is, “I love you, ‘Junnie.” 

Yeonjun smiles at you and then presses his face into your neck. He doesn’t even brace himself against the grass to chase his own peak. Neither of you want this to end; you want to hold on to this moment and let it span forever. Slowly, Yeonjun rolls up into you until his hips finally stutter and he cums into you, his cheeks pink. The weight of him above you as he shakes with your shared ecstasy, and even as you both have come down and are nothing but lazy, is the only thing in this world. He is the only thing in this world.

Once you’ve both evened your breathing out, you roll apart and face each other, still just two forms bending the grass into your shapes. Blinking slowly and digesting his features one at a time—the angle of his eyes, softened but never tamed, the line of his nose, the line of his mouth always so proud and playful, and that pretty dot below his left eye—you let them solidify fully in your mind.

“Yeonjun,” you say, finally meeting his eyes across from you. “I want to go. I’m ready.”

The gentle, knowing look that he gives you soothes over the way your heart begins to race in your chest in rebellion. “I know,” he says.

Of course he had known. Yeonjun had been called here to ferry you into the afterlife. He had known the moment he appeared in front of you that his last soul to reap would be you; an ironic circle of karma that should be cruel, but you two make it something sweet. Chewing on your lip, you will your hands to not shake as you curl toward him. You’re no longer scared of going. You know that if you’ll be with him, it will be okay. It won’t be so scary. A hot tear rolls down your temple and then drops into your hair. “Will you be with me? I won’t be there alone?”

He tucks some hair behind your ear reverently and then leaves his hand there. “I don’t know,” he answers. “But I won’t leave you. I’ll stay right here with you.”

You lay there for a long time. Chatting and giggling and just looking into each other's eyes, until your heart becomes slow and all you feel is the wind singing in your blood. Yeonjun presses one final kiss to your forehead.

Maybe, in some years, somebody might dig up your bones and find you immortalized like this in your love. Your bones bowing toward each other, as if even death were not enough to stop you from reaching for each other. Or maybe they’ll just find yours, and Yeonjun still curling into them how you know he will for an eternity more.

Either way, the going is still slow and gentle, as death always is.

🪶 ⦂ tears. omfg i cried writing this which could totally be me being a bitch baby but it DAMN. omfg.

rꫀׁׅܻblogs & asks arꫀׁׅܻ always apprꫀׁׅܻciatꫀׁׅܻd!

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[sridharm-1980]

#Time

#BBC

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#Cnbc

Hi 👋 my dear LOVABLE ♥

ALL 235 COUNTRIES

BOYS 👦, GIRLS 👧,

YOUNGSTERS,

FAMILYS 👪 👪 👪 👪 👪, KIDS AND

PUBLIC PEOPLE OF WORLDWIDE

🌐......IN EARTH 🌎.........

"KINDLY 🙏 PLEASE GROOM

CATS 🐈 ,DOGS 🐕 OUTSIDE

YOUR BEDROOMS 🛌 BASICALLY

FROM INSIDE HOUSE 🏠.

DON'T LICK OR DON'T ALLOW

CATS 🐈, DOGS 🐕 TO LICK YOU.

DISEASES WILL EASILY INJECT

YOU , YOUR FAMILYS 👪 👪 AND

YOUR FRIENDS ......IT'S THEART

TO HUMAN LIFE ...."

AVOID "DISEASES " TO

AVOID "MEDICINES 💊 " TO

AVOID "HOSIPTALS" TO

AVOID LIFE DANGER.

"WE DIDN'T BORN TO

TAKE MEDICINES 💊,

TO ENJOY DISEASES .

WE BORN TO LIVE

A "HAPPY" PEACEFUL LIFE

WITHOUT "DISEASES "

KINDLY 🙏 PLEASE SPREAD THIS INFORMATION TO ALL YOUR FRIENDS AND FAMILYS 👪 OF

ALL 235 COUNTRIES

PUBLIC PEOPLE OF WORLDWIDE

🌐.... IN EARTH 🌎......🤝💋🫂🏃‍♀️🏃‍♂️💕

LOVE IS COSTLY.......🤝💋💕

HUMANITY

ALWAYS NO.1 🧠

MASTERMIND 🧠

YOUR DON SRIDHAR.M🧠

YOUR GODFATHER OF MASSES 🧠

YOUR KING SRIDHAR.M 🧠

YOUR BRO SRIDHAR.M 🧠

YOUR DUO SRIDHAR.M 🧠

LOVE YOU ALL MY LOVABLE 💗

ALL 235 COUNTRIES

BOYS 👦, GIRLS 👧,

YOUNGSTERS,

FAMILYS 👪 👪 👪 👪 👪, KIDS

AND

PUBLIC PEOPLE OF WORLDWIDE

🌐......IN EARTH 🌎...... 💋 💋 💋 💋 💋 💋 💋 💓💗💖💯🙏

THIS IS SRIDHAR.M☝🧠

[little-miss-dilf-lover]

it's midnight at my country sooo

HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO THE VERY BEST AND KIND AND PERFECT AND AWSOME WRITER IN THE WORLD THAT THIS DRAMATIC ASS GIRL HAS EVER KNOWN!!! 💗💗💗❤️❤️💗💜💙💙💛💛❤️🧡💞💕💞💖💖💗💘💓💌😽😽😽😻😻

hope your new age will be so fun and peacful for you. because this page, your fics, you made me feel peace and safe here. luv youuu <333

AAAAHHH THANK YOU!! THANK YOU!! (and you remembered from a post a while back🥲so very aah)

arfghhh you’re so so SO sweet, thank you bby. love uuu!!! 💗💗💗

[espinosaurusrexex]

Hello love!! Would you be able to write a steve x reader where the reader is kinda insecure about their body because she used to be “chubby” and people used to say shit to her now that she is slim she is feeling a little insecure again remembering her past and looking at the models, what would steve do here? This would be very helpful to me if you wrote this no pressure 💕💕💖💖

Bullies

a/n: Hey, babes. I hope this imagine could help you out a little. I’m honored you trusted me for this request and even though it was a little heartbreaking to write, it was fun to get back to sweet old Steve again. Just know that everybody has insecurities and you’re not alone. If you need someone to talk, please don’t hesitate. I know it’s hard to open up to people sometimes (hell, if anything, I would rather solve any problem by crying myself to sleep alone) but I learned that having someone, even if that someone just listens to you rant, does help a lot sometimes.

word count: 2.1k

warnings: mentions of body dysmorphia, overcoming depression/trauma, bullying, flashbacks, down talk, overall sad themes, soft Steve, and a whole lotta fluff

!Disclamer: All bodies are beautiful and I usually don’t do readers with specific body types. So, I tried to still keep it a little open as to what the reader looks like now (but for this request it was kind of difficult). Please know that I don‘t mean to discriminate anybody with this 💓

It hadn’t always been easy. Of course, overall, life was pretty great and you did not have a whole bunch to complain about, but sometimes, your insecurities got the better of you. Didn’t they for everybody? Probably. But the thing was, that nobody talked about them. And it was annoying how fast they could change the mood because of that. One second you were happily sipping on an iced coffee in the midst of Brooklyn, and the next, you were crying in the smelly women’s bathroom of the nearest Starbucks. It was emotionally draining and even though you had already come a long way, it still affected you from time to time. 

It was silly, really, how a simple phrase - an under the breath comment - could cut open long healed wounds so fast. Catapulting you back to high school, where you would sit in the far corner of the classroom, away from everyone's eyes, to get a little peace and quiet from the hell that was every teenager's everyday life. The comment of the tall, skinny woman in the café wasn’t even directed at you, but it still felt like a pushback into the deep horrors of your own mind you had fought so hard to keep quiet over time. 

“Look at her. That skirt is definitely too tight, girl,” was what the woman had said to her 90-60-90 measurement friend. 

And it had lit a fire of emotions within you. But all you could do was sit there, stiff as a board, and forced to watch bad reruns of your life as the “chubby high school girl” before your mind’s eye. After a couple of moments, you had checked back into reality, feeling the burning tears brim in your eyes from the horrible flashbacks. That’s when you stood up and bolted for the bathroom, like a coward.

“Get yourself together, Y/N,” you encouraged your reflection in the mirror after splashing some cold water on your face in hopes of reducing the puffiness in your eyes. It didn’t help a lot, but it did cool you down enough to get back out there. And so you did. Striding through the doors with some newfound confidence and past the two women who had been shamelessly dishing ever since they had taken a seat at the table next to yours, you made your way to the other woman who had become their target for the afternoon.

You leaned down next to her to tap her shoulder slightly. And after she had turned her head, you simply smiled and told her: “You look very beautiful today. I love your skirt.”

The woman’s eyes brightened at that and it released a warmth in your heart, that rewarded you for your actions. 

“Oh, thank you so much,” she smiled brightly and waved once you said your goodbye.

And it was nice at the moment. Being able to brighten a stranger's day felt good, but it didn’t help with the deep uneasiness that had settled in your stomach before that. During your ride back on the subway, you tried to ignore the feeling as much as you could, thinking of coming home to your boyfriend, Steve, and the evening you had planned together. But every happy thought seemed to be overshadowed by a faint voice that told you, what the two women might have said about you. And then it set you back again to freshmen year - the peak of insecurity. 

It wasn’t terrific. You had no friends at the beginning of the school year, and people did everything to gain the crowds they would later call their ‘friends’. You, unfortunately, just so happened to be on the receiving end of the bullying that made kids ‘cool’ back then. It didn’t help that you had a little extra weight on your body, which - honestly - you never had great issues with until that dipshit Brian from PE pointed out that having you on his dodgeball team meant that ‘the hit ratio of the others would triple’. 

Yes, Brian was an ass. And you had wished every day of your life that he was stuck at a boring job with a low pay grade and a wife that was hopefully telling him how much of a loser he was. But it didn’t change the fact that his words had also made you look in the mirror five minutes longer each day, debating whether your favorite shirt made your arms look big or how you could twist your head to make your chubby cheeks seem less visible.

Luckily, after you graduated high school and entered college, people seemed to all have their baggage to lug around. They were all a lot more considerate or just kept to themselves. It was the change you had needed to focus on yourself and to work on a healthy mindset. Surrounding yourself with people who supported you had helped you to get better. And after you joined the gym in your first semester of college and the last few pounds that you had not grown into during puberty had shed to your goal weight, you seemed to be completely fine again. The focus being on seemed here because every so often, situations like the one today set you back a few steps.

So, when you entered your apartment building, searching for the key in your purse, your insecurities had skyrocketed from all the spiraling your mind had done. You weren’t feeling good, a headache was sneaking its way into your body and your shoulders tensed with the constant need to hold your body upright in a more appealing posture. Once you had closed the door to your and Steve’s shared apartment, you leaned against it with your forehead, sighing as your heavy purse fell to the floor with a thud.

“Are you alright, sweetheart?” Steve’s concerned voice traveled through the room. You could hear him shuffling from the couch and placing his glass on the table before you felt two large, warm hands on your upper arms.

You just grumbled in response, and Steve proceeded to press his chest to your back, moving your hair to the side to place a tender kiss on your shoulder.

“You wanna talk about it?” He stepped back and turned you around. As soon as he saw the redness in your eyes, his face fell - being replaced with a caring frown. He didn’t ask if you’d been crying and you were pretty grateful for that because it would have probably sent the tears running anew. 

Steve embraced you in a comforting hug, and you pressed your face into his shirt, inhaling the familiar scent of citrus and sandalwood. You had never really mentioned your body issues, mainly, because that was a part of your life you tried to suppress. And even though, Steve was the most understanding man you knew, some part of your mind had always toyed with the thought of him rejecting you because of those issues. You had managed to quiet that voice every time - telling yourself that he chose you and none of the other amazingly breathtaking, people-saving coworkers he was surrounded by in his line of work. Even if you couldn’t comprehend why on earth you were the one he chose, you were grateful nonetheless.

Steve’s hand traveled to your head and soothed over your hair as he placed a kiss on top. His grip tightened when your hands fisted into the back of his shirt and a silent sob escaped your mouth.

“It’s so stupid,” you breathed out shakily, holding onto your boyfriend as if he would vanish with the falter of your grasp. Steve rested his head atop yours and tugged you even tighter into his chest as he noticed how desperately you clung to him.

“I’m sure it’s not.” He loosened his grip around you and when you felt confident enough to let go as well, he took your hand and lead you to the sofa, where he pressed his glass of water into your hand before proceeding to sit down next to you. His hand found your back yet again, drawing soft circles in your dress, while the other rested on your knee.

Placing the cup back down after taking a sip of water, you peered up at him. The deep blue of his eyes was clouded with concern, but the encouraging smile on his face nudged you to speak up again. “There were these women at the café today, and they were just really mean.” You sobbed again at the thought of the mental distress these malicious women had set you in. You didn’t care that you sounded like a child right now, bawling your eyes out over some sleazy insult that wasn’t even directed at you. But it could have, more than a decade ago, when your insecure high school self pressed against the hallway lockers to avoid giving anyone a reason to talk to you.

Steve’s posture didn’t falter at your words. He listened attentively, scanning your face to register the emotions flooding through you, and it draped a calmness over you - a feeling of being heard and respected. His genuine interest in your well-being paired with the soft touch of his hands made you relax a little more.

“They were bullying someone for being overweight and it just hit really close to home,” you whispered as you wiped the tears from your cheek.

Steve’s expression told you that he understood what you were getting at. And you were grateful that he didn’t make you explain it further. The hand on your knee traveled up to your cheek, turning your face in his direction and making you look into the comforting blue of his eyes. They went deeper than your face, though. As if they could see right through your skin and into your soul where they soothed it with an easing embrace that slowed your pulse and pulled the tension out of your muscles.

“I just get really insecure sometimes.” Your gaze stayed focused on his face and your hand wandered to his wrist, pushing his fingers tighter to your skin.

A couple seconds passed before Steve pressed a kiss to your forehead. His lips lingered on your skin for a moment, and then he pulled away to say the next words with steady eye contact - conveying how sincerely he meant them. “Y/N, I know I can’t tell you to stop thinking about these things, but I want you to know that you don’t need to worry about other people’s feelings towards you. They won’t change just because you look a little different or because you are scared of something. The people who truly care about you will always be there for you. I will always be here for you. I’ll help you with whatever it is you're going through. Because I love you, regardless of what anyone says.” His Captain voice shone through the little speech he was delivering, and your heart began pounding several beats faster at his words. 

It was stupid to think he would be weird about it. If anyone were able to relate to you on body image issues, it was Steve Rogers. The man who had probably gone through the most public transformation of them all. At least, you had the choice to openly speak about your past. Steve had had that privilege taken from him before he could even say ‘America,’ and it sparked another 'peng' in your chest at the considerate man before you, who listened to your troubles all the while having even bigger ones on his own. But he never made you feel that way. You always came first, and you decided to make sure that you would show him how grateful you were for that every day.

“Thank you, Stevie.” You took a deep breath to steady the last traces of unease in your body and placed your hand on his arms. “I love you, too.”

And then you kissed him, capturing the comfort and warmth in his gaze with your lips. Steve pulled you closer to his body and leaned back on the couch, taking you with him in the process. The kiss was eager and loving, conveying as much aid as possible. Though, his mere presence had already done most of that.

When you parted again, you rested your head on his chest, snuggling into his side with his hands warming you with a loving touch. And that’s how you stayed until the sun set outside the living room windows, dipping the room in a glowing, happy yellow. Steve’s hands rode up and down your arms in consolation, and his steady heartbeat lulled you to sleep, sending you into a dreamless slumber.

@cotton-candy-clouds-26

[feralgodmothers]

I’m just imagining Dean and Rory if Luke’s nephew were a toddler when he arrived. Mostly them coming to a more natural end realising their priorities no longer align. Probably around college. But also like convincing Rory to babysit jess and her calling Dean for help because she’s rubbish at it. And Dean being like the ultimate supreme babysitter there ever was. I don’t know about you but I personally think it’d be amazing.

That would be so cute omg I am yearninggg

It would have been so cool to meet baby Jess, and getting the chance to see Dean with ANY baby would just be 💖💖💖💞💕💗💓💖💖

After the few scenes we saw of him with his sister, we know he’s a natural with kids. 💖 I think this would have been a nice opportunity to see Dean in his true element, rather than being constantly kicked around by the narrative. I would have died to see his loving, tender side get some room to shine for once, and this would have made for the perfect occasion. 🥰

Now that I think about it - it would have been nice to see some real domestic Dean, rather than just the two “domestic” scenarios the show gave us that were both fake in their own way, and that the fandom insists on defining him by.

Like this:

This isn’t what he wanted. He even said so in the episode.

Anybody who was willing to pay attention could see that he was weirded out by the whole thing.

This isn’t exactly the face of a boy whose ultimate fantasy is coming true.

And this:

This wasn’t what he wanted either. It was just one extremely dumb decision on his part. For viewers to water Dean down into some caveman who only wanted a housewife in a dress is grossly inaccurate and unfair. If that were the case, he’d have been perfectly happy with a shallow relationship with Lindsay. My boy just wants a home, family, and coziness (essentially just a nice life) with a girl he loves, and there isn’t anything wrong with that. If Dean and Rory had had a nice, natural breakup, this entire disaster with Lindsay would have never happened. People make rash decisions when they’re hurting (or are, you know - NINETEEN. Why did his useless parents support this? 🤦🏽‍♀️).

When I first started watching the show, I fully expected Dean and Rory to go their separate ways when she went to college. The way they got together was so nice and simple, it would have made sense and been great if they could have ended things the same way. The writer’s addiction to unnecessary drama can make things so unpleasant sometimes. :/

I’m glad he finally got his happy ending in AYITL. I love that he was given a nice, big, chaotic family with a wife and 4 kids, and seeing him so happy and finally at peace swells my fangirl heart. 💖 I’d have given anything to see him with them, and I often wonder what his wife was like. I’ll tell you what though - I doubt she was anything like Donna Reed.

[baleydlind]

HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO MY FAVORITE GIRL, MY INSPIRATION, BELOVED FRIEND AND BFF @marcogoetze 💟💌🎀🎁🎈🎂💖💘🌸🦋🌹🏵

To think that we got to meet each other is alone a gift, now to have this friendship solid for NINE years is a blessing 🎁

Nastya, I always think about you and how you are the dearest, most special friend I have, the one who understands me best and completes me even when no less than 14.670 kilometers separate us physically. But, hey, have we not connected more and more over the years? Have we not gone from teenage girls to adult women in this lapse of time? Have our lives not changed a lot, turned upside down, and then changed a little more? Well, this is how you WIN the battle against distance.

I wish you all the best there is in this world and a lot more.

I hope you always live the happiest life: may happiness, success, love, peace, hope, health, faith, and serenity be enduring in your life. I hope life is always good to you as you have been to me 💌

Thank you for being you, so extraordinary, unique, understanding, smart, true, dear, and lovely 💖

ENJOY YOUR DAY & STAY AS PERFECT AS YOU ALREADY ARE ✨

I LOVE YOU 3000 (brazilian version: I LOVE YOU A THOUSAND MILLION) 💝💛💕🤍💌💘💞💕💓💗💖