#TOGETHER THAT WAS NOTHING THAT COULD STOP THE TWO OF THEM. NOT IN THE CELESTIAL REALMS OR ON EARTH

[jumpscaregoose]

so I was casually making a pot of tea when my brain decided it was a good time to randomly

"the hero and the warrior were like the sun and the moon"

which is all well and good that happens a lot

EXCEPT I WAS STRUCK DOWN BY VISIONS

I don't know where I'm going with this but it's somewhere

[munsonthings86]

we've been celestial even before this

pairing: steve harrington x fem!reader

summary: after she has a particularly rough day, steve takes his girl stargazing

warnings: cursing, fluff, soft!steve, established relationship (but still fairly new), oversimplified summary, reader depicted to be nineteen, these two being the biggest lovesick idiots for each other

an: i've been having a lot of fun writing about these two. they own my entire heart. hope you guys enjoy this one * don't copy my work *

wc: 6.1k

steve and sunshine's timeline

The trembling flame of the Coffee House scented candle illuminated your messy bedroom in a flickering, warm, honey light. The smell of the candle resembled nothing of coffee, more like hot cocoa or caramel you thought, but it did its job of calming your rattled nerves, nonetheless. Most of your wooden floor was hidden beneath neglected pieces of clothing that you'd pulled from your closet in a hopeless attempt to string together a decent outfit that morning. I'll tidy up tomorrow, you shrugged, though knowing you, there was a high possibility that "tomorrow" would turn into next week.

Procrastination was a terrible habit of yours, and the tension that the day left you with was doing very little to diminish it. Your early morning shift at Family Video was borderline torturous; Keith saw to that when he scheduled you sans Steve and Robin and had two inept new hires shadow you. Sure they were nice and all, from what you can recall anyway, but you were too out of it to bestow on them the patience you typically had.

Once the stint came to its much desired end, a dreadful date at the Indiana Bureau of Motor Vehicles awaited you. In your venture to become more of an independent and responsible "adult" (being merely nineteen, the word made your blood run cold), the goal of obtaining your permit was set in stone. The written test was passed with flying colors, but like any classic BMV nightmare, you'd forgotten a required document to actually get the damn permit.

Nearly plunging to your knees, you begged the grumpy old woman behind the counter to let you run back to your apartment that was “just down the street”. Truthfully, it was a thirty minute trip on foot, but she didn't need to know that. If you ran, you could make it back in twenty.

But, again, like any classic BMV nightmare, all she left you with was a hardly sympathetic, "Sorry ma'am, but if you don't have all the required documents, I'm afraid you'll have to come back tomorrow. The office closes in fifteen minutes." Through clenched teeth, you thanked her for her time, though she neglected to return the gesture, squawking "Next in line!" in a tone that was poles apart from her customer service voice.

Mercifully, your day wasn't all terrible. On the way back home, you stopped by the library to return a week's long overdue book and, instead of crucifying you for it, the lovely librarian recommended a novel she thought you'd appreciate. Rose in Splendor by Laura Parker. Unbeknownst to her, you'd been dying to read it ever since it was published last year. The grouch over at the BMV could definitely take a page out of her book. No pun intended.

Curled into bed and tucked under your beloved ivory crotched blanket, you thumbed along the pages through gravelly, blurry eyes. You kept promising yourself "one more page", but that was well over ten pages ago.

The male love interest was recounted having perfectly tousled brown hair with a body to die for, and you couldn't help but to think of your Steve. You missed him terribly in that moment and the one thing that kept your woe at bay was the anticipation of you two's nightly phone call. It was the selling point of all your days spent without him, truth be told.

The chime of the landline in the hallway between your kitchen and bedroom pierced through the otherwise silence of your apartment, prompting you to glance at the clock on your wall. 9:32 p.m.

Speak of the devil.

Folding a little doggy ear onto the page to preserve your place, the blanket keeping your legs warm was tossed among your strewn out clothes as you nearly slipped, scurrying to answer the phone. You couldn't bite back your smile as you pressed the receiving end against your ear, hearing the music that was Steve's voice, fill your mind.

"Hi, sunshine."

A breath that was unknowingly caged, freed itself at the sound. "You're nearly on time," you teased, referring to earlier today when Steve promised to call you at 9:30 sharp tonight. Usually, he called you earlier than this, but he was jammed with babysitting duties for the six kids you were considering adopting for yourself at this point.

"I know, I'm sorry," he chuckled. "They finally fixed that game at the arcade that's been down for the past few weeks. Gaga, I think it's called."

"Galaga," you corrected, giggling to yourself. It wasn't a rare occurrence whenever the kids would drag you along on one of their many hangouts, so you were rather well-versed in their nerdy recreations. "Yeah, that's the one. I could barely pry their grubby little hands off the thing. Especially Dustin."

Based on his tone, the roll of Steve's eyes as he spoke was nearly audible. As much as he complained about constantly having to be the one to look after the party, there was a part of him that covertly loved the fact that they depended on him so much. Not only was it somewhat of an ego boost, but he's always dreamed of having little nuggets of his own to protect and guide and treasure.

The daydream of Steve being the ideal father, unlike his own dad ever was, reeled your bottom lip between your teeth as the cord of the landline fell into the trap of your twirling fingers. It was so vivid; a shirtless Steve wearing blue jeans that hugged his bottom so perfectly, driving a rackety lawn mower along the wild grass of the front yard to the house you may or may not have pictured the pair of you living in.

In that utopia, the children that you may or may not have pictured parenting with Steve, sat behind the lemonade stand that was built by their father, giggling and toying with a leaky hose as they awaited customers. You'd be watching your little family from the boxy window of the kitchen, fixing them an afternoon snack, unable to contain your laugh when the hose goes haywire, soaking your lover from head to toe.

The imagery made you giggle out loud, head falling against the wall as your stomach cramped. "What?" Steve asked, laughing along with you though it's purely out of instinct, because of course he didn't know what you were laughing about. But hearing your audible delight was contagious. He couldn't help it.

"It's nothing," you assured, smiling softly before continuing, "just hoping your day was better than mine was."

"Well I don't like the sound of that," he frowned, sneakers squeaking against his floor as he shifted his weight onto his other leg. He watched as the days worth of dirt that'd found solace on his shoes, abandon patterned scuffs on the wood. Memories of the pointed sound of his mothers voice demanding no shoes in the house rang through his head like a siren at the sight. He would've ditched his footwear at the door, but he knew he was running late for his phone date.

"What happened?"

Commencing your response with a weary sigh, you shrugged, laughing dryly, "A lot. It's not even funny how exhausted I am right now."

Steve's chest tightened. He hated when you had a bad day; it left a bad taste in his mouth. Even worse, whenever Steve would make an effort to get to the bottom of what ailed his girl, he had a less than impressive success rate, seeing as vulnerability was one of your shortcomings. Steve knew better than to pry. But that didn't mean he wasn't going to do his damnedest to make these final hours of the day your best.

"I'm sorry to hear that, honey," he lowered his head, offering a comforting smile that though you couldn't see, you could hear in his voice. "'S alright," he heard you murmur.

It fell silent for a beat before Steve inquired, "When are you comin' home?", to which you furrowed your eyebrows, letting out a confused chuckle. "Uh, I am home."

Jokingly, the boy scanned his apartment and though he saw some of your forgotten belongings from previous visits, he couldn't seem to pinpoint you. "That's weird, I don't see ya. You hiding somewhere?"

The laugh that erupts from your core at your sappy boyfriend is inescapable. Your shoulders quake as you snicker and Steve's never heard a sound so sweet. Mission accomplished. For now, anyway. "You're an idiot."

"For you, yeah," he retorts, "thought we already established that." The apples of your cheeks are growing sore as Steve's honeyed words denies your smile the chance to falter. Any inconvenience that was precedent to this very moment was long forgotten by virtue of the prince charming that was your boyfriend.

"I'll come see you soon, lover boy," you quipped.

"You makin' fun of me?" He was completely unoffended. Prior to the few weeks of you dating, Steve spent the better part of the past decade containing his cascading love for you behind the dire dam of the friendzone. Despite delay, the dam was broken and there was no playing "Mr. Cool Guy". Steve was crazy about you. And he'd be even crazier to not show it.

"I wouldn't be me if I didn't," you teased. "I'm gonna head to bed, though. I have another shift in the mornin'. That damn Keith," you rolled your eyes, groaning as Steve laughed through his nose.

"Alright, sunshine, I'll see you later, okay?"

"Okay," you glowed. "G'night, Stevie." You waited for him to respond with a "goodnight" of his own before returning the phone back to its base, already pining for your boyfriend's presence again. Though you poked fun at it, what Steve said about you not being "home" wasn't just him being sappy. You were feeling the same way.

No matter where you were, whether it was school, work, the arcade, shit, you could be in the Upside Down, but as long as Steve was there, you felt at home. It made you reflect on the times where you'd be lying in bed, unable to slip into a slumber as you couldn't shake the feeling of wanting to go home, though geographically, that's exactly where you were. It was because you missed Steve. And any place where he was absent, was no home of yours.

Sauntering back into your bedroom and kicking away garments to clear a path, you cocooned your body into the blanket that was now stained with the scent of your burning candle, and continued from where you left off in your book. You figured you'd make some decent progress to hopefully avoid another late fee at the library.

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆

It'd been forty minutes later, give or take, when you stood on sore legs, cleansing and moisturizing your face before calling it a night. Your dull eyes wore dark and heavy circles like a hideous skirt, a clear manifestation of the fatigue you were weathering. You rubbed at them unkindly with the hopes of looking even a little more lively, but to no avail.

The bulb of the bathroom went out like a flame once you flicked the switch off, and you abandoned the journey back to your room at the sound of a series of knocks to the front door. Clasping the opening of your robe with shaky hands, you wondered who could be here at this hour. You weren't expecting any visitors. Approaching the door with hushed footsteps, a miniscule view of none other than Steve Harrington could be seen through the peephole of your door.

The tension in your shoulders dissipated, ribs doing their best to cage your fluttering heart. You squealed, fingers fumbling with the lock and you could swear the metal thing had something against you, the way it stalled to unlatch. Steve smiled from the other side of the door as he watched the knob twist and jangle, warmed to know that you were just as eager to see him as he was to see you.

The brown lettering that labeled the white entryway '2F' swung out of view and Steve made eye contact with you for a split second before stumbling back a bit when you threw yourself into him.

Elevating yourself with the tips of your toes to reach him, you trapped his neck between your arms as he returned your hug with one arm, the other remaining properly tucked behind his back. "Hello to you too," he laughed breathlessly before briefly stamping a kiss to your shoulder.

"What're you doing here?" you buzzed, pressing little pecks to as much of his dotted skin as you could. You were suddenly a ball of energy. Finally at home. "When you said later, I thought you meant, like, tomorrow or something."

"Well, I missed you," a kiss to the corner of your mouth, "Wanted to come see ya."

The smile he wore carved thin lines into his cheeks as he spoke, walking your tangled bodies back into the quietude of your apartment. He stopped at your cutesy welcome mat, kicking his shoes off before revealing his arm that held a bouquet of just about the prettiest flowers you'd ever seen.

"Steve," you pouted, releasing your hold on his shoulders, "they're gorgeous." Cradling the peach hued roses dressed in a newspaper-style wrapping paper, your eyebrows scrunched together as you reminded yourself of the time. "What florist is open at 10 p.m.?"

The boy chuckled, locking the door behind him. The plaid pajama pants he wore swung loosely on his legs as he approached you. "There isn't," he ran fingers through his disheveled hair that was long overdue for a trim, "I saw them while I was out with the kids and I thought of you, so I got 'em." He shrugged like it was nothing.

"I was gonna surprise you with them at work tomorrow, but I figured I'd just give 'em to you now, ya' know, all things considered."

Heat rushed to your chest and face as you ogled him, filled with an overwhelming sense of luck to be his. Your feelings toward him felt so immense that at times, you could barely articulate yourself. Words of love and adoration raced through your mind a million miles a second yet you always found yourself terribly speechless.

Steve was so open with his affection for you. It’s a love people pray to experience at least once in their lifetime. And what a heaven-sent gift it was to earn that kind of love from Steve.

These would look perfect by the living room, you thought, turning to the kitchen to retrieve a vase after slipping him a fleeting kiss.

Scouring the white cabinets, you almost failed to remember that you didn't particularly own a vase, given the fact that you'd never actually received flowers before. The realization dejected you a bit.

Steve trailed behind you mindlessly, a frown weighing on his lips as he watched your shoulders droop. Leaning against the space on the counter next to you, he slid down a little, leveling with you, "What's wrong, honey?"

A mumbled, "I've never gotten flowers before," left a pang in his chest, your eyes never leaving the shelves of your cluttered cupboard. "Never needed a vase before."

It was now Steve's turn to slump his shoulders while he gazed at you with sad eyes. How could someone so lovely, so divine as you, not be treated the way you deserved? He would buy you flowers every day if you wanted and he had to bite his tongue when he almost cursed himself for not doing it already. But it's okay. He was here now.

Luring your waist into his body with those burly hands of his, he spoke with assurance laced in his voice, "Well, that's okay," he cooed. "Here, use one of these for now," he pulled a mug that you would've otherwise had trouble reaching, as it sat on the very top shelf, "and tomorrow we'll pick out a nice pretty vase for ya'."

Filling the black cup with water, he planted the roses down as neatly as he could. The flowers sat in the mug awkwardly, all splayed out with the stems way too long for your liking. But somehow, it still managed to be nothing short of perfect. "Cute, a little weird," you shrugged, a smile teasing your mouth, "but cute."

Steve chuckled lowly, situating himself between your legs once you sat on the surface of the tile countertop. "That's funny."

"What is?"

"I said the same about you when I first met you," he laughed, unable to contain his smile before getting the joke out. The face you made didn't help. "Shut up, Harrington," you jab at his shoulder softly, cracking a smile of your own.

Though there was a newfound romance, the typical banter that was mutually exchanged wasn't going anywhere. You were glad that nothing changed between you when you started dating.

Toying with the drawstrings on Steve's Gap hoodie, you began zoning out, the thought of going to bed while cuddled up with your boyfriend, sounding all too alluring. Looking up at him, he was already intently staring at you with painfully adoring eyes and you couldn't help but melt under his heated gaze. "Hi," you muttered, shyness clouding you.

"Hi, sunshine," he smiled, adjusting the collar of your robe with careful fingers. "I'm sorry your day sucked."

"It doesn't, anymore," you replied, sincerely. Steve's eyes lit up at that. It wasn't a secret to anyone that his presence alone seemed to be the antidote for some of your worst days. You'd even admitted it yourself, once or twice. But it never failed to ignite the nerves in Steve's body with fervor.

Although you were completely honest that your mood had gone up about ten octaves since he'd been there, Steve didn't want to just be there. He wanted to do more. It was what you deserved.

"You up for a little adventure?"

"Depends," you squinted. "What kinda adventure are we talking about?" He shifted his weight onto his other leg as his eyes veered off to the ceiling, thinking.

Steve happened to have a few tricks up his sleeve.

"There's somewhere I wanna take you," he drummed a rhythmless beat on your thigh with his fingers. The sneaky expression on Steve's face told you everything you needed to know. He was up to no good. As much as you wanted to go on a late night escapade with your boyfriend, you had to be somewhat, even a little, responsible.

"Steve, it's late and we both have work in the morning," you huffed, losing your grip on the strings you'd been distracting yourself with.

Steve playfully rolled his eyes, flinging his body out of your clutches dramatically. He was going to get you to cave. Whether you already knew it or not. "Alright, grandma, I promise to have you back home at a reasonable hour. Deal?"

The internal battle on whether you should stay or go was evident in your features, though, realistically you had already come to the conclusion that you'd humor him. The "grandma" bit is what really did it for you.

"This is a dumb idea."

"I'll be waiting by the car," he smiled an accomplished smile before leaving the kitchen. Letting out another sharp exhale, you hauled your body off the counter and headed towards your bedroom, discerning that a robe probably wasn't the dress code for wherever it was Steve was taking you.

Concealing your underlying tank top with a hoodie almost similar to Steve's, you threw on some sneakers before snuffing out the diminishing candle. Giving your appearance a once-over in the mirror, you wondered what you'd just gotten yourself into. Though any time with Steve was time well spent, you couldn't help but to look at your bed longingly as you shut off the lights to your apartment, meeting Steve outside.

He stood by the passenger side of the car, fiddling with a loose thread by the end of his sleeve. The fall season brought a night frigid breeze that blew his hair over his eyes like a curtain, making him pout. You hugged your body as you neared him, brushing his brown tresses from his face, though the wind reversed your efforts in no time.

He pressed a kiss to your palm as he became a puddle under your touch, appreciating the way your toasty hand felt against his icy skin. Steve took his own turn rubbing at your arms when he saw you visibly shiver, teeth nearly chattering. "You wanna tell me where we're goin'?" Misty clouds left short-lived trails in the air between the two of you when you spoke.

"Now where's the fun in spoiling the surprise now?" He opened the car door to punctuate his sentence, gesturing you inside. You could only rebut with a roll of your eyes as you entered, though you and Steve both knew you were loving every bit of this. It warmed your heart knowing he was so keen on saving your day from the horror it started it out to be.

Digging through the glove compartment, you sifted through old receipts and other rubbish that really needed to be thrown away, searching for the mixtape you and Steve made for little times like these. Moments that may now seem small, but would soon become memories that you'd cherish for years to come. It served as a little time capsule; hearing the songs you two carefully picked, easily transporting you to these times even when you'd become gray and old.

As Steve began driving off, your fingers found the sneaky cassette that was scribbled with yours and Steve's initials along with doodles of suns, to represent you, and poorly drawn anchors in honor of Steve's Scoop Ahoy era, to represent him.

Regardless of Steve's slight disdain for that period of time, it was one of your favorites and obviously that was due to the fact that the uniform he wore, showed off his legs in the best way possible. It was the perfect eye candy that summer.

The low sound of Bob Marley singing Could You Be Loved floated through the quietness of the car, easing away any tension within you that might've still been trapped. You admired the way the town was so still. The time was hardly 11 p.m., yet there wasn't a soul to be seen; only lonely litter that drifted through the breeze, aimlessly. It was a stark difference from just a few hours ago when you had to dodge shoulders as you cut through the crowded streets on your way home.

The sky was dark and empty apart from the glowing crescent moon that seemed to be chasing you as you drove. It was the only light source you had aside from the street lights that lined the sidewalks. You started counting them and even got to as far as nineteen, but soon lost count once Steve picked up his speed a bit.

Your eyelids threatened to close as the calming drive coupled with the music, fought to lull you to sleep. But instead, bright neon lights stung your sensitive eyes that grew accustomed to the darkness. Squinting, you read the colorful sign labeled "Darling's Diner", and nostalgia strikes you. It had been years. Too many years since you and Steve had been here last.

"Holy shit," you glimmered, hurriedly unbuckling your seatbelt. Steve's hand that found comfort on your thigh during the ride gave it a squeeze before he put the car in park, rushing over to open your car door. He took your hand in his, adoring the way your stunned face gleamed under the glow of the pink and blue neon bulbs. "Surprise," he cheered in a low tone, lightly bumping his shoulder against yours.

The smile you had burned your cheeks but the elation you felt made it all too easy to ignore. The feeling you got whenever you came to Darling's was something indescribable. There were countless fond memories attached to this place and it left you all soft and gooey inside to know that Steve planned on making more with you here. Instinctively, you practically dragged Steve behind you as you rushed inside, the homey scent of burgers, fries, and shakes wafting to your nose.

The floors were still the black and white checkered tiles you remembered them to be; stained with drops of grease and sprinkled with deserted fries. Walls were not much neater, though they were messy with posters and vinyl records instead.

"Want the usual?" Your nod was immediate and shortly after, Steve approached the busy woman impatiently pressing buttons on the register. Wisps of hair fell out of her ponytail and clung onto the film of sweat developing across her forehead. She visibly shrunk into herself as she heard the bell above the door ring, signaling new customers. It was a much busier night than usual.

Regardless of the surge of patrons, the booth you and Steve usually sat in once upon a time, wasn't occupied. The wears and tears corroding the red leather almost served as a name tag, assigning the seat for you two. It was impossible to forget the days Steve came here with you after school, carelessly doing homework while listening to whatever song played on the jukebox.

The table was tidy apart from laminated menus and coloring sheets scattered across the surface. You smirked thinking of the times you and Steve swore you could be the next Picassos, the way you took those things so seriously. As if they'd be hung in museums, you did your best to color them, but not without the added challenge of switching papers with Steve every few minutes. A fun little game you played.

Colored pencils sat by the condiments and you made yourself busy adding hue to the Back to the Future poster, sliding Steve a sheet with some random sports car you didn't know the name of, when he made his way over. He traded you with a cup of hot cocoa with jumbo marshmallows that threatened to abandon ship. "Thanks, Stevie."

"Anytime," he smiled, biting at the cherry that was kissed with a touch of the whipped cream that sat atop of his strawberry milkshake. His long legs brushed against yours as he sat next to you, knees finding mutual rest against each other.

A waitress on pink roller skates offered a kind smile as she brought over a basket of fries that Steve and you snacked on while you chatted and giggled, coloring your own and each other's papers as time seemingly flew by.

"How long has it been since we've last been here?"

"I couldn't tell you. Anything before senior year is such a blur," you responded, adding finishing touches to Steve's car before taking the last sip of your now barely hot, hot chocolate. "I'm just sad we stopped coming here."

"Me too," he swung an arm around your shoulder, pulling you in for an apologetic kiss to your temple. "But I promise to bring you a little more often. It was our spot when we were kids and it'll be our spot now."

You looked at him with bright eyes while hugging his torso, despite the awkward position. Trying to understand what you did to deserve someone like Steve was a dead mission, as you could never fully wrap your head around it. How does one try to understand why they've gotten so lucky?

He kissed away the marshmallow mustache idling on your upper lip before tapping your leg twice, "C'mon, we've got one more stop to make."

The spot he sat in was quickly losing its fever as he stood, holding a hand out for you to take, but you just stared at him with a face that was an odd marriage of scolding and amusement. "Steve," you warned.

"Yeah, yeah, I know, you can yell at me about it later. But I promise you'll love it." Waving his hand to urge yours into his, you accepted it with little hesitation at his grin. You wished the woman at the front a good night as you left the bistro, while Steve dropped a tip in the jar next to her.

He didn't let your hand go until you were sat in the passenger seat, subsequently getting behind the steering wheel, inserting the key in the ignition. You could tell Steve was tired too, the way he full-body stretched as he yawned, rubbing at his eyes that were getting a bit red from fatigue. He wanted to go to bed and cuddle and forget about the world just as much as you did. So why were you still out there?

"What's all this for, Harrington?"

He answered your question with another one of his own, "What's all of what for?"

"Tonight. Everything. The flowers, the diner, and now something else. I'm really grateful for it, don't get me wrong," you warmed his hand when you held it, "but why so much?"

Steve shrugged, averting his gaze to the gear shift sitting between you two. He softly rubbed at your knuckles while he gathered his thoughts.

"Well, you told me that you had a shit day. Just wanted to change that. I like when you're happy."

Your throat felt like it was closing in on itself and your chest stung when tears pricked at your eyes. Steve looked back at you affectionately, the voice of his eyes telling you just how much he cared for you. It made your heart so full. It was too much to handle sometimes.

"I like when you're happy too, Stevie," you beamed, blinking away the pool by your bottom eyelashes. Cupping his cheek, you pushed your plump lips against his that were a little chapped, though you didn't seem to mind at all. Reluctantly, you pull away and Steve doesn't think it was nearly long enough as he sneaks in a few extra pecks.

The drive to wherever on Earth it was that Steve was taking you, was much different compared to the one prior. It almost didn't look like Hawkins. For the past couple miles, Steve's burgundy BMW had been the only car on the road. The trees were taller, a darker green and stronger in numbers than the ones you were used to. The street lamps were less abundant and dimmer than usual, and the animal crossing signs told you that you were more than just a little ways from home.

You had almost said something until Steve pulled off to the side, parking the car on an empty hill just off the road that overlooked Hawkins and the neighboring city. It looked so small from here. Steve smirked at the puzzled expression you threw his way as you removed your seatbelt.

"Before you ask, just come outside. There's something I wanna show you."

You didn't bother waiting for Steve to open the door for you, as you stepped out, attempting to conjure up what he could possibly be wanting to show you out here. There was nothing to be seen but dirt and fallen leaves and branches. "What exactly am I supposed to be looking at?"

"Look up," he responded, leaning against the hood of the car.

Your furrowed eyebrows relaxed as a gasp fell from your lips at the sight of the cloudless sky, lighting up with numerous twinkling stars, an image you could only dream of seeing for yourself since you were a little girl. The mighty city that sat so close to Hawkins fostered light pollution that made it nearly impossible to see the stars at night. If you were lucky, you were only able to make out about one or two, though you weren't sure if they had been stars or planets, instead. Either way, it ignited your soul to be able to see such a bright and beautiful piece of the universe, making you feel so small in the best way possible.

That didn't nearly amount to this very moment though, where there were more stars that you could count, sitting so prettily in the midnight sky.

Mouth still agape, you utter, "Steve, it's beautiful," and other than that, you were rendered speechless. You couldn't dare to tear your eyes from it, worried that if you did, it would all disappear, proving to be a mere hallucination from your tiredness. Steve adored the way you stared at the heavens, noticing the way it was the same way you looked at him. All he could see was a clear reflection of the stars in your eyes, and it perfectly spoke to the way he felt about you.

He saw everything when he looked at you. The sun, the moon, the stars, the universe, even the galaxy. His past, his present, his future. All of it. To him, you encompassed everything beautiful and divine. He was convinced you were too good for this planet. Too extraordinary. How did he get so lucky?

"Look," you pointed at two stars that sat close to one another, shining impossibly brighter than the others, "do you think that's us in another universe?"

Steve smiled at your question, cherishing how whimsical you could be sometimes. Your voice was soft and full of wonder and he couldn't be more content in this moment. "Yeah," he nodded at you, "I'm yours in every universe, sunshine." He kissed the back of your hand, holding your intertwined hands against his chest.

"Y'know I was thinking to myself the other day about how weird relationships are," he stated, looking down at his feet. You peeled your eyes away from the sky, gazing at your boyfriend for the first time since you stepped out of the car. "Weird, how?"

"I don't know, like how you randomly meet someone and get to know them really well and one day just decide, 'I like this human. I'm gonna spend all my time with them and take care of them.' Maybe weird isn't the word, but it's definitely interesting," he rambled, talking with his hands, even the one that was still laced through yours.

You nodded along, understanding where he was coming from. It was something you'd thought about yourself. He continued, "Like, I look at us and how far we've come and it scares me a little 'cause I see how my parents are now. They were best friends before they got married and now I can count on only one hand the amount of times I've seen them hug or kiss. Freaks me out."

This was one of the few times Steve spilled what was weighing on his mind. You could always tell when something bothered him and though he'd give you bits and pieces when you asked what was wrong, it was never anything as nuanced as this. It made you proud to see him develop so much.

"We're not them, Steve. It's like you said, I'm yours in every universe. Maybe they aren't each others every universe," you sighed, "We won't end up like them, I promise"

You always knew how to reassure him. It was one of the things Steve loved so much about you; your way with words. Nothing sort of a poet, he thought. He engulfed your face with his palms, kissing you with every ounce of passion he had.

Lowly in the background, you could hear the song Just the Two of Us by Grover Washington, as the mixtape was still playing in his car. "It's our song," you smiled against his lips when you pulled away. You took his hands from your face, grasping them when you asked him, "Dance with me?"

He nodded, holding your body against his as your head fell against his chest, looking down at the sleeping town that felt so far away. You swayed back and forth, finding comfort in the near silence, listening to the rhythmic beating of Steve's heart. "Thank you for this, Steve," you whispered. "I'm lucky to be yours."

"Even if you weren't, I'd still do it for you," he admitted, running hand across your back, tenderly.

The little sentence made you think. Steve has been in your life for well over a decade now and he never failed to be there for you even when you didn't know how to ask for it. He was the one who took care of you whenever you found it a little difficult to take care of yourself. The one who never dared to leave your side.

You and Steve were in love even before you were. You'd been celestial even before this.

"I love you, sunshine," he murmured, head resting on top of yours.

"I love you back, Stevie."

💌 1 new message from jojo: pls pls pls comment/reblog (or both teehee) if you enjoyed, it means a lot! inbox is open!

[nanamikentoseyebags]

Addicted to your light

He hopes you know his whole world is now reflected in his heavenly blue eyes. Look closer, it's you. Always has been.

pairing: satoru gojo x gn!reader

content: fluff, suggestive themes, use of blindfold, basically satoru and reader's first time together, nothing explicit though

a/n: i got affected by @rossithepixie fic where satoru puts his blindfold on you. here he finds another use for it 🥴 a special thank you to @vagabond-umlaut who read it first 💛

The day gives way to night, as the thick veil of the darkness blankets the walls of the room. The only sources of light in the guise of the young pale moon curiously peering in through the not completely closed curtains, and the small, quaint lamps on the oak bedside tables reveal the mysteries of two stained hearts that try to find their way home. In the subdued, soft lighting two silhouettes sit opposite each other on the king-sized bed. And in the complete silence that reigns here, one can hear their ragged breathing, the hot waves of air leaving their parted lips.

The whole space’s palpably electrified with eager anticipation mingled with infinite tenderness and an overwhelming desire. The threatening mixture that swallows them both not leaving a single chance to escape this sweet torture. And it seems that every atom of their being is transformed into a vibrating movement, fused with an unknown craving that fills their heated bodies.

Your clothes are long forgotten somewhere, discarded on the floor on the way to the bedroom, ready to become a tomorrow’s reminder of this very night. Sitting there on the soft walnut colored silk bedsheets wearing nothing but your underwear, you don't feel any cold; rather, your whole skin seems to be set ablaze, with the heat running through your entire body and waking up all the butterflies that have been sleeping peacefully in your stomach. And he doesn’t even touch you yet.

Satoru looks pretty calm, too calm for your liking. Behind this habitual grin you can’t even discern whether he feels at least a bit as anxious or giddy as you. So your gaze shifts to his torso, causing you to swallow hard, as your eyes flick from his broad chest adorned with crescent scars to his defined abs. The lack of clothes gives you a perfect opportunity to admire his sturdy figure without any shame. Illuminated by the soft yellow light, his snow-white skin takes on a golden hue, like a bronze-carved Apollo, who only smiles softly, as if knowing how breathtaking the sight of him can be. You cannot see his eyes, like treasure sought by pirates hidden behind a black satin blindfold, but you can sense his intense gaze moving slowly along all of your curves, tracing all of your skin, not stopping for a second.

And so you give in, jump in with both feet, unable to languish in anticipation and delay the moment any longer, you move closer, your slightly trembling hands gently reaching for him.

"May I?" a quiet plea comes out of your lips in a whisper, your fingers gently touching the velvet skin of his cheek, slowly moving to his blindfold. Satoru nods weakly, swallowing, feeling your hands gently, as if it might hurt him, untie the knot, and slowly pull the skin-cooling material off his heavenly blue eyes.

You see the stars. He still hasn't touched you yet, but you could swear you see them when your gazes meet. It feels like finding yourself in outer space with no protection and no way to take that much needed breath, hanging weightless, surrounded by celestial bodies and running out of air. Yet you can’t help but marvel the beauty before you, knowing goddamn well that this starry blanket might be your last memory. And you would agree to do it again, just to feel the sense of lightness once more, just to get lost in his light, just to see the world centered in him and hidden behind these two orbits.

He sees the sun. He still hasn’t touched you yet, but he could swear he feels its burning touch when your gazes meet. It feels like floating above the ground not the way he used to do but lifting to the unpreceded heights, striving to reach the biggest star, sense its warm embrace and get lost in its heat, knowing goddamn well that its gentle hold might be the last thing he’ll ever feel. And he would do it again, like Icarus flying up too fast and too close, letting you scorch his wings, letting you take away his strength, only to bask in your presence, only to have a chance to marvel your blinding beauty a little longer, only to make sure you know that his whole world is centered around you and can now be seen in the reflection of his two orbits.

“You’re so beautiful…” he exhales quietly either not fully trusting his voice or in fear of scaring the moment off. His hand flies up to gently tuck your hair behind your ear, a light touch leaving a barely perceptible trace on the curve of your neck. With his fingertips he feels the myriad of goosebumps covering your flawless skin in an instant, and he cannot believe it’s him who does this to you. He lets out a shaky breath, realizing how every inch of his body is shivering at the sensation of the satin fabric you're slowly sliding down his neck. Satoru thanks all the gods above that it's you who's doing this to him. Though no one else ever could.

“Close your eyes,” he commands in a low voice, leaning closer, his hot breath dancing across your skin. You obey pliantly, your heart flutters at his words as he suddenly takes advantage of the situation. Satoru’s delicate hand finds its place on the back of your neck, making you lift your head just a little bit.  With your eyes shut you feel him leaving a small peck on your temple, then softly kissing your closed eyelids and traveling down to your desperately waiting to be kissed and already slightly parted mouth. Gojo makes sure he left the proclamation of his love with the softest brush of his lips on every millimeter of your face while his thumb gently caresses your jawline. He pulls back for a moment, trying to capture in his mind how divinely beautiful you are in the moonlight before drawing you into a deep yet full of fondness and promises kiss. And your worlds collide the moment your lips meet. And if the big bang that started it all for someone seems like a controversial theory, it has now become an absolute and irrefutable truth for the both of you, as it’s just claimed the new beginning. With him being so painfully soft and his lips molding just right against yours and his feather-light touches, treating you like you’re made of the daintiest porcelain, you feel like falling apart right here and right now. With you being so painfully gentle and your fingers tangling in his snow-white hair, treating him like he’s worth of this universal tenderness, he feels like falling apart right here and right now.

Satoru pulls away slightly, a string of saliva still connecting your swollen lips. You don't dare to open your eyes, feeling the thin fabric slowly slip from your fingers. He gently kisses the corner of your lips, unable to resist, before you feel the pleasant coolness of satin on your eyelids. His fingers gently, with apparent skill, fasten his blindfold around your head.

“Relax for me,” he whispers noticing the way your breath hitches and your chest heaves frantically, “I’ll take care of you, I promise,” his thumb stroking the pinkish apple of your cheek.

“I wanna see you…” you say under your breath, covering his hand with yours.

“You will,” he murmurs and takes your hand in his, kissing your fingers, “but for now, I want you to feel it, okay?” is more of a statement said in a saccharine tone, yet you utter a quiet “okay” surrendering completely to his captivity. His arms encircle your waist before gently lowering you onto the cushioned bed.

“I want you to feel all the love I have for you,” he repeats breathlessly, his fingertips grazing your hips, still unable to believe that you let him touch you, let him kiss your perfect skin, let him get lost in you.

And he’ll spend the whole night showing you how pure and overpowering his love for is, how addicted to your light is, and he is not afraid to burn in doing so.

thank you so much for reading! comments and reblogs are always appreciated 💛

tags: @rossithepixie @pastelle-rabbit @solanaearth @a-nuisance-called-sam @nanamiiss @4sat0ruu @pupkashi @gennysuga

[the-whispers-of-death]

The Middle: The Creation of Simon "Ghost" Riley

The Beginning, Part 1 of The Middle, Part 2 of The Middle, Part 3 of The Middle CW: Allusions to Simon "Ghost" Riley's backstory but nothing is written graphically. The most yearny/romantic part is really when he's at his family's graves, so feel free to skip down to it if need be.

**

When Life, your partner in balancing out the universe, told you after aeons together in the realm where only you two resided that he was going to take on a mortal form and live among the mortals, you were confused. You didn't understand why he wanted to live among the mortals, but you supposed that his love of creation and what he had created drove him to this decision and as Death, you were never going to understand it.

So you watched with a heavy heart that you concealed as he sent his soul down into a fetus that was still developing in its mother's womb, having not yet developed into a soul which was why his could reside in the developing form. You watched as that fetus grew into a baby, into Life's new form.

He was born as Simon Riley, the firstborn of what would be two sons.

As years went by, you watched every horrid moment of Simon's childhood, unable to interfere and Simon refused to let the mortal form go. Every time you stood in the shadows and he was able to speak, he told you that suffering was something every mortal experienced, the form of suffering just changed from mortal to mortal.

So you watched, and watched. It was all you could do, every time Mr. Riley was a horrible person to his wife and sons, you could not kill him. You were only meant to guide the souls of the dead to the realms of the dead and ensure they stayed there.

Life—Simon—was the one who could kill beings, mortal or immortal, but even then, he couldn't kill willy nilly. It had to be timed most of the time, so for every soul that died, a new one was created. He saw who could die when and where without unbalancing the universe, and he made sure to tell you every time you felt like killing his father that the time wasn't right.

More years passed by, Simon eventually feeling a calling to the military and enlisting when he was in his twenties. He found that being in the military helped immensely with his duties as Life, able to protect those who weren't yet to die and also able to send the fatal blow to those that were destined to die at that moment. Everything seemed fine and well.

Until Roba.

Your heart hurt to see Simon's mortal form be broken and reset in the most painful ways, ways that would surely kill someone who wasn't actually a powerful being. You were fortunate—yet also unfortunate—that you didn't have to be there all the time while Simon was with Roba.

You were pulled away every so often to guide souls that died to their afterlives, four of them unfortunately being Simon's mother, brother, sister-in-law, and nephew. Since you knew he held sentiments for all of them, you took even extra care with their souls.

Simon eventually escaped Roba's clutches, though with it guaranteeing him to be seen as legally dead, and after he hunted down everyone in the organization, he finally found out what happened to his family.

He was standing in front of their graves, bitter and a shell of the mortal man everyone knew. But he was still Life, you could still feel the bright power signature that only you and the celestial beings could detect.

"You'll stay with me, won't you?" Simon asked when he felt your own power signature in the shadows, his voice—for a lack of a better word—sounded lifeless. His brown eyes stared blankly at the graves, he probably wouldn't be okay for a while.

You shifted on your feet until the mortal form you had taken on for the day could be seen from the shadows just a little bit. You nodded and said, "We've spent aeons together, Life. I'm here with you for the rest of time." You paused. "I'm only sorry I couldn't stop what was happening."

Simon would've laughed or smiled if he had the energy to do so because you were always so endearing to him. "Don't be sorry. It was meant to happen."

Another thing that Simon could see besides who was meant to die and when, was that he could see what events could be changed and what events not even him could interfere with.

"Does this mean you're keeping this mortal form?" You asked, frowning at the thought.

Didn't he already see enough to lose his sense of love for creation and life? How much more suffering could he take? How much more suffering could you take to see him in?

It was selfish, you knew it. But your soul yearned for him. It was why you spent most of your time watching him, you needed his presence, needed to feel his power signature settling besides yours. Every time you were pulled away to guide dead souls, you ached to return to him.

You longed for the days when you two would enjoy being in your home realm together, just the two of you.

"Death," he said, pulling you away from your thoughts. He turned his head to the side to lock eyes with you. "Know that I relish being in your presence too, but I cannot abandon this life. It's not Simon "Ghost" Riley's time yet, which is why I want you to still be by my side. With you by my side as always, I can see a future in which I can heal."

You nodded, understanding him. There was no doubt in your mind that you'd stay with him even if it meant being in the shadows for most of the days. You couldn't fathom abandoning him.

Your mind processed what he said. "Ghost?" You had never heard him being referred to such, but it seemed to be something the military gave him.

Ghost nodded. "It's my callsign, and I quite like it. Simon Riley is dead in the eyes of the law. Ghost... Ghost is all that's currently left."

"I see... Ghost," you replied, getting used to calling him "Ghost". You called him by whatever name he preferred.

"Perhaps, while you watch me from the shadows, you can think upon fully joining me in the mortal realm. You could finally have a constant mortal form."

"Don't get any ideas, Ghost."

Reblogs are welcomed & appreciated! Asks are open, feel free to pop in and talk or request something! (SFW requests only, please and thank you)

[atticsandwich]

move fast, keep quiet

pairing: raphael / gn!mc [obey me!]

sfw - this is just pure fluff lol

hallway brushes that turns into casual conversations, that turns into walking to your next class together, that turns into whispered nothings, that turns into something more

[set in the OG timeline, pre-NB]

-

"Good morning."

His tone is casual, monotonous. You look up from your D.D.D to see the angel in front of you, arm raised halfway in a greeting.

"Raphael! Good morning," you respond in kind with a smile.

You haven't known Raphael for long, but you realize that sincerity is laced in every encounter you've had with him, despite what the tone in his voice might suggest. Although the brothers describe him as strict and meticulous, you find the silence that usually comes with his presence quite comforting, a complete contrast to the daily rambunctious antics in the House of Lamentation.

"You're early today. Don't you usually come with Mammon?" he asks, glancing around you in case he missed the demon in question.

"Oh, Diavolo asked me to come in early so I can look through some of the proposals regarding future exchange programs," you respond. "I actually came with Satan today, but he wanted to stop by the library first."

"I see..." he trails off, as if in thought. "Can I walk you there?"

You blink in surprise.

"To the student council room? Sure, but are you sure you're not busy?" you reply, not expecting the offer. He gives a curt nod.

"I'm waiting for Simeon and Luke, so I don't have anything to do until then."

"If that's the case... yeah, let's go! I could use the company," you smile. Though his face remains unchanged, you can sense he's content that you accepted.

The two of you chat about recent happenings, from Mammon's latest grimm escapades to Luke accidentally drinking Solomon's concoction that he left in the fridge ("--he should really stop doing that", you interject.) that made the poor angel croak for the entirity of the afternoon. Luke was apparently grumpy for the rest of the night, so Simeon baked some cookies to cheer him up, which worked. ("--the cookies were good," he commented.)

The walk to the student council room isn't too long, and before you realize it, you're both standing at its doors. "I might as well say hi to Lord Diavolo and Barbatos," was what he said as he held the door for you. You whisper a quiet thanks as you walk past, and hear the scuffle of his feet as he walks in right after.

"There you are, good morning!" Diavolo's voice resounds within the room, enthusiasm peaked as always. Barbatos bows beside him in acknowledgement, walking off to prepare your seat.

"Good morning, Dia, Barb," you return their greeting accompanied with a warm smile.

"Hm? Is that Raphael behind you?" The prince finally notices your companion, who gives a nod.

"Good morning, Lord Diavolo. I was merely taking them to you. I apologize for the intrusion."

"Nonsense!" The prince laughs in assurance. "You and the other angels are always welcome to stop by."

You glance at the angel, who only gives another nod in response.

"I'll be on my way then," he turns to you.

"Thanks for walking me here," you say, thanking him with a smile.

"See you around."

You might've imagined it, but you were almost certain your fingers brushed for a second as he walked back, and you swallow the warmth that overtakes you, pushing it aside so you can start your duties.

-

Walking with Raphael becomes somewhat of a norm.

The repeating trend goes like this - you've just finished your Devildom History class, and as you walk out, he's somehow also nearby, which ends with him walking you to your next class. Sometimes, one of the brothers notices, and he ignores every one of their whines when they point it out. There are days when Luke and Simeon join the two of you (and if it's lunchtime, the twins are there with you too).

You talk about many different things - you ask a lot of stuff about the Celestial Realm, and he'll often tell a story or two from back when the brothers were still angels. There's a fondness in his tone whenever he recounts those memories, but you know he's content just knowing that the brothers are all together and happy in the Devildom. He asks you about your life in the Human Realm and what you were like before the exchange program, and you tell him of your days before the greatest plot twist of your life.

Somehow, you also manage to convince him to start teaching you how to sew. ("--literally not a day goes by where I don't have at least one tear on my clothes," you tell him.) You told him of that one time Beel started chewing through your school jacket because you spilled some juice on it, and then another time you tripped over a tangled wire in Levi's room, causing the seam of your jeans to split. ("--it's a miracle you still have any clothing left to wear," he comments. You swear you saw him hold back a laugh, but you don't mention it.)

Eventually he starts walking you back to the House of Lamentation, too. You're usually stuck doing student council duties after classes, so when it first happens, you're surprised to see him still on campus.

He manages to find a different reason each time you ask.

"I was at the library."

"I was sitting in the garden and lost track of time."

"I forgot something in the classroom so I came to pick it up."

He doesn't bother defending himself when one day, you walk out of the student council room, waving at him - "Thanks for waiting for me." He simply nods in acknowledgment.

-

When he walks side by side with you, sometimes your fingers brush; some instances longer than others, and you can't help but wonder what his hands would feel like on yours. Simeon once mentioned that angels had higher body temperatures, so would that mean his hands would be warm? Gentle?

As these thoughts run through your mind, you don't notice turquoise eyes on you the entire time, almost mapping each crevace of your face. He looks at your empty hand right next to his, and he finds himself wondering how it would feel like as he held it.

-

One day, the dam finally breaks.

He's walking you back to the House of Lamentation as always, and you're talking about Thirteen egging on Mephisto earlier that day. You stifle a laugh as you recount the noble waving his cane around ("like an old man," you describe), as he chased the reaper.

Your fingers are brushing against his again, but unlike most days when it's an unspoken tension, you feel the other hand slowly creeping up to yours, before it wraps it in its warmth. You look at your now-intertwined hands, and then to his face, seemingly avoiding eye contact with you. There's a warmth in his cheeks, and you feel his hand squeeze yours lightly, as if asking for assurance.

"Your hands are warm," you whisper, squeezing in return. From the corner of your eye you see his lips twitch upwards in a small smile, but you don't point it out.

When you reach the house, it takes some time for him to release his grip, but as he does, he takes his other hand, holding yours with both of his, and he brings it close to his face and plants a kiss to your palms, his eyes on you the entire time.

Your face is flushed, both in embarassment and twitterpation, as you try to avert your gaze from his - to no avail. You fear he can hear how fast your heart is beating even from a distance, as he sets down your hand he's been holding.

"I'll see you tomorrow," a rare smile is plastered on his face, which only worsens your poor heart's pounding.

"Yeah," you finally manage to breath out. "Yeah. I'll see you tomorrow."

You watch him walk away, heading back to Purgatory Hall, and start formulating a plan to get back to him. Maybe a kiss when he's not looking? You'll polish that thought later.

And as you drift off to sleep that night, you dream about the warmth of his touch, and wonder how warm the rest of him is.

-

-

[a/n: i haven't actually written a fic in quite a while so i'm kinda rusty ;; feel free to send me suggestions, etc! i wanna get back to writing more... Thank you for reading!]

[louroth]

Lou I'm so sorry for this random thought but I had to leave it out in the open: remember that ask whose premise was a role swap between L and the hunter?

Just, what would they have thought of the 'puppet corpse' the Vicar brought, of her words about a celestial seemingly taking the hunter as their spouse?

"They're what?" Leith's one brow raises in interrogation as they pin the vicar with their stare, dark as night.

"A concubine."

It starts as a mere twitch in Leith's eye, their body perfectly still, hunched as they are over the body of the hunter like a mother of dragons protecting her young. There's a hitch in their breath as their eyes flicker to the hunters dead gaze, and then they start to rumble from deep within their chest, something terrible prowling in there, begging to be let out. Their eyes slowly travel back to meet the vicars, wanting nothing but to wipe the smug smile off her face. Without thinking, Leith flings a knife that grazes her serpentine torso before lodging into a pew. There’s a beat of stunned silence even as the knife rattles and the guards stiffen into readiness.

And then she laughs. Like it's genuinely funny. If Leith had any less self preservation, they'd plunge another knife into the vicars throat and listen to her gurgle, and then they'd laugh, too. They'd laugh and laugh and laugh.

Instead Leith clenches their jaw and hefts the weight of the hunter into their arms silently, as if it's no matter at all; as if their knees aren't buckling and their chest isn't being torn in two. They turn on their heel, walking out. The vicar snickers, stopping her guards with a waggle of her fingers.

She won't hear the promise Leith whispers into the deaf ears of the hunter. But she knows. Leith will stop at nothing to find them again.

------

Leith buries the hunter beneath the tree they once climbed together as younglings, placing a palm against the trunk as if they could bleed it for memories. They kiss the earth where the hunter lay, and [whatever flower you associate with your hunter] begins to grow there the second they do. It breaks what little sanity Leith has left to see the first sprout break through the loose dirt, to then recognizing the bloom, and they rise then, slowly- like a new metamorphosis- they set their jaw and check their knives and then they walk into the forest, one simple goal in mind: to find what's theirs and take it back. Whatever it takes.

[journeytothewestresearch]

Is Six Ears an Aspect of Sun Wukong?

I've seen some people claim that Six Ears is not an aspect of Sun Wukong's mind. They either ignore the references to "one mind" and "two Minds" (and the Buddhist philosophy behind them), or they just say it's allegory and nothing more. Well, there are actually internal story details from chapter 58 that support the close connection between the Monkey King and his doppelganger.

1) The Bodhisattva Guanyin and her “eyes of wisdom” (huiyan, 慧眼) can’t tell them apart:

The various deities and the Bodhisattva stared at the two for a long time, but none could tell them apart (Wu & Yu, 2012, vol. 3, p. 106). 眾諸天與菩薩都看良久，莫想能認。 [And later:] Pressing his palms together, our Buddha said, “Guanyin, the Honored One, can you tell which is the true Pilgrim and which is the false one?” “They came to your disciple’s humble region the other day,” replied the Bodhisattva, “but I truly could not distinguish between them …” (Wu & Yu, 2012, vol. 3, p. 114). 我佛合掌道：「觀音尊者，你看那兩個行者，誰是真假？」菩薩道：「前日在弟子荒境，委不能辨 …

2) The tight-fillet spell works on both Monkeys:

Asking Moksa and Goodly Wealth [a.k.a. Red Boy] to approach her, the Bodhisattva whispered to them this instruction: “Each of you take hold of one of them firmly, and let me start reciting in secret the Tight-Fillet Spell. The one whose head hurts is the real monkey; the one who has no pain is specious.” Indeed, the two disciples took hold of the two Pilgrims as the Bodhisattva recited in silence the magic words. At once the two of them gripped their heads and rolled on the ground, both screaming, “Don’t recite! Don’t recite!” The Bodhisattva stopped her recital … (Wu & Yu, 2012, vol. 3, p. 106). 菩薩喚木叉與善財上前，悄悄吩咐：「你一個幫住一個，等我暗念緊箍兒咒，看那個害疼的便是真，不疼的便是假。」他二人果各幫一個。菩薩暗念真言，兩個一齊喊疼，都抱著頭，地下打滾，只叫：「莫念，莫念。」菩薩不念 …

(If someone disagrees with this one, they need to show where it says Six Ears is faking the pain.)

3) Both the Jade Emperor and the imp-reflecting mirror can’t tell them apart:

Issuing a decree at once to summon Devariija Li, the Pagoda-Bearer, the Jade Emperor commanded: “Let us look at those two fellows through the imp-reflecting mirror, so that the false may perish and the true endure.” The devaraja took out the mirror immediately and asked the Jade Emperor to watch with the various celestial deities. What appeared in the mirror were two reflections of Sun Wukong: there was not the slightest difference between their golden fillets, their clothing, and even their hair. Since the Jade Emperor found it impossible to distinguish them, he ordered them chased out of the hall (Wu & Yu, 2012, vol. 3, pp. 107-108). 玉帝即傳旨宣托塔李天王，教：「把照妖鏡來照這廝誰真誰假，教他假滅真存。」天王即取鏡照住，請玉帝同眾神觀看。鏡中乃是兩個孫悟空的影子，金箍、衣服，毫髮不差。玉帝亦辨不出，趕出殿外。

4) Only omniscient beings like Investigative Hearing (Ksitigargbha's mount) and the Buddha can tell the two apart:

[T]he Bodhisattva Ksitigarbha said, “Wait a moment! Wait a moment! Let me ask Investigative Hearing to listen for you.” That Investigative Hearing, you see, happens to be a beast that usually lies beneath the desk of Ksitigarbha. When he crouches on the ground, he can in an instant perceive the true and the false, the virtuous and the wicked among all short-haired creatures, scaly creatures, hairy creatures, winged creatures, and crawling creatures, and among all the celestial immortals, the earthly immortals, the divine immortals, the human immortals, and the spirit immortals resident in all the cave Heavens and blessed lands in the various shrines, rivers, and mountains of the Four Great Continents. In obedience, therefore, to the command of Ksitigarbha, the beast prostrated himself in the courtyard of the Hall of Darkness, and in a little while, he raised his head to say to his master, “I have the name of the fiend …” (Wu & Yu, 2012, vol. 3, p. 112) …地藏王菩薩道：「且住，且住。等我著諦聽與你聽個真假。」原來那諦聽是地藏菩薩經案下伏的一個獸名。他若伏在地下，一霎時，將四大部洲山川社稷，洞天福地之間，蠃蟲、鱗蟲、毛蟲、羽蟲、昆蟲、天仙、地仙、神仙、人仙、鬼仙，可以照鑒善惡，察聽賢愚。那獸奉地藏鈞旨，就於森羅庭院之中，俯伏在地。須臾，擡起頭來，對地藏道：「怪名雖有…」。 [...] Smiling, Tathagata said, “Though all of you [Guanyin] possess vast dharma power and are able to observe the events of the whole universe, you cannot know all the things therein, nor do you have the knowledge of all the species” (Wu & Yu, 2012, vol. 3, p. 114). 如來笑道：「汝等法力廣大，只能普閱周天之事，不能遍識周天之物，亦不能廣會周天之種類也。」 […] [After the Buddha explains the ten categories of life and the four types of celestial primates (see the introduction here), he says:] As I see the matter, that specious Wukong must be a six-eared macaque … (Wu & Yu, 2012, vol. 3, p. 115). 我觀假悟空乃六耳獼猴也 …

In short, the twin monkeys are so hard to tell apart simply because they are representations of the true and illusionary minds (refer back to the article) within the same person.

So what does this say about Shadowpeach? I know LMK is a separate entity from the novel, but applying canon to this ship would make it more self-love, right? I'm sure those with creatively perverted minds know what I'm taking about.

[dyns33]

Good Uncles - Sequel

Anti Y/N needs Morpheus' help, because her uncles are stupid

(Good Omens season 2 spoilers)

Y/N and Morpheus loved each other more than anything.

This was what Matthew repeated to himself when the young woman came to see him with her strange request, and especially her comment which could have been taken as an insult in any other circumstances.

But Y/N loved Morpheus, so she certainly hadn't meant to be rude, and Morpheus loved Y/N, so he wouldn't take it badly.

Besides, she wasn't really wrong, even if the raven would deny agreeing with her if the boss asked.

"Since Dream is an idiot who has trouble communicating, I figured he could help me with my family problem, but since he has trouble communicating, I need your help to ask him."

"… Did you just say he was an idiot ?"

"Yes." Y/N said simply, looking at him with a face that said she didn't see the problem. "The worst idiot in the world, just before my uncles. So I need his advice to reconcile them, like they helped us to finally be together."

"… He loves you, but I don't know if he'll be happy with you saying he's an idiot."

"That's not the point. Will you help me ?"

Y/N's family problem seemed simple enough.

Her uncles, two other idiots, were totally in love with each other, without ever admitting it to each other for centuries. Then, one day, one of them decided to be brave, and the other ran away, not knowing how to react to all these feelings. Some sort of break up then, or whatever it was.

In fact, it was more complicated, since one of the uncles was an angel, the other was a demon, they were on opposite sides but kept secretly allying since the beginning of humanity, and now the being of light had had a promotion, forcing him to return up there.

He had suggested to his sidekick that he could come with him, be an angel again, but of course, the demon had categorically refused, suggesting instead that they stay together on Earth, happy and far from the divine and infernal stories.

Then there was a kiss, and the end of the world.

“Well, not literally the end of the world…” sighed Y/N, former antichrist, who had decided not to destroy the universe as Lucifer wished. "But it was still terrible. Aziraphale calls me through the celestial channels, and even though he pretends he's okay, I can clearly see that he's sad. And Crowley… He's devastated ! He really thought that they were going to be together forever. He drinks all the time and hardly leaves the house anymore. I threatened to destroy his car, nothing ! I threatened to destroy his car by driving it and risking having a accident, he destroyed the car."

“He remains sane despite his turmoil.”

"Morpheus, my dear, this doesn't help me. What can I do to make them stop their nonsense and see that they can't live without each other ?"

Dream of the Endless opened his mouth, and closed it almost immediately, after his faithful raven pecked his hand. He turned to Matthew, who was staring at him with a stern look, silently begging him to think before speaking.

"Even though technically no one needs others to live, I know the torment of broken hearts, my younger sister having shown it to me and having experienced it myself. It is difficult to help those who suffer of this pain, especially if they are stubborn by nature, as are angels and demons."

“You who are stubborn by nature, how have you been helped in the past during such difficult moments ?”

"… It takes time. My father doesn't help directly, but he allows the wounds to heal, the memories to be less painful, and to learn from all these experiences. I don't know if you can help your uncles, my love. Your presence and your shoulder are the only things you can offer to them, as well as advices, but whether they decide to follow them is up to them."

"I don't like that answer. It's not a stupid answer."

"I'm not as stupid as you seem to think."

"Obviously. You're only an idiot when it concerns you." Y/N joked, kissing his cheek before he started to pout. "Thank you, Morpheus. I'll try to help them. It's hard to see them like this when they were so happy before."

The dream master didn't like seeing his lover so saddened, but as he had told her, it was not possible to solve her problem as easily as she hoped.

Feelings were complicated, changing, volatile things. They were even more complex for celestial beings, who were not supposed to feel them, or at least not in a repeated or negative way.

Joy mostly, sometimes sadness for others in the case of angels, a lot of anger in the case of demons, but certainly not love.

Crowley and Aziraphale having never done anything like everyone else, they had to test this limit, and it went badly.

It wasn't a surprise, but Morpheus was a little disappointed with how this story turned out. Because it made Y/N suffer, but also because he had been secretly observing the two clandestine friends since the beginning of their romance, waiting to see what would happen, and savoring the demon's dreams and hopes.

A dreaming demon, full of imagination, and defying the infernal authorities. The only one. Of course he was favored by the Lord of Nightmares.

While Y/N tried her best to comfort him on Earth, even though she still had trouble getting him out of his apartment, Dream decided to pay a visit to the Heavenly Kingdom to greet the new manager.

"Your lordship ! What a surprise ! What a joy ! You… Y/N is not in trouble, I would know. I'm keeping an eye on her. Are you still having trouble in hell ? They've been a little panicked since Belzebub left, but we haven't noticed any suspicious activity."

"I have no quarrel with the underworld at this moment, Aziraphale. I have come to see you."

"See us ? As a courtesy call ? Good… Very good." stammered the angel, who was not as stupid as his niece seemed to think either.

“Let’s talk about my brother’s book.”

"No ! I mean… We've had this conversation before, noble dream lord. Although the mighty Destiny knows everything, the divine plan remains ineffable, and we are not supposed to know it. So I do not wish to talk about this subject."

"And I would not force you to do so. But know that no one escapes their destiny, however strange it may seem, unexpected and distant. We can try to flee it, delay it, fear it, but as certain as a kiss, it will happen."

Aziraphale looked at Morpheus without saying anything. He understood the message well, and even though he knew it was a bluff, because no one except Destiny and God knew what was in the book, he wanted to believe what those words meant.

It was scary, it would take time, but his winding path would one day lead him back to Crowley. Something inside him kept repeting it.

"Anyway…" Dream added before leaving. “If that wasn’t the Plan, there’s no stopping my sweet Y/N, or me, who hates seeing her sad.”

That same evening, aften several months, the angel contacted the demon for the first time.

It was complicated, because Crowley remained stubborn, and hurt, but he agreed to listen, a bit satisfied that it was not him who took the first step, feeling considered.

When she asked him if he had anything to do with it, and what he had done, Morpheus replied that he had simply been diplomatic and tactful.

"In other words he scared the cherub. Because fear works well with idiots."

“Matthew, leave us.”

“He was afraid of losing you last time, that’s why he agreed to talk.”

“Get out of my sight, now.”

"Thank you, Dream. Thank you so much." Y/N said, hugging him tenderly.

The problem was not resolved, but after several calls, because the fear of the wrath of Y/N and her lover was less strong than the fear of losing his demon, it was allowed to see the exchanges as a good omen for the future.

[storyofmychoices]

Tuneless Wonders

[Beckett Harrington x Emma Carlyle Masterlist] 

Pairing: Beckett Harrington x Emma Carlyle (F!MC) Book: The Elementalists Word Count: >600 Rating/Warnings: general, no warnings, all the fluff Prompts: @choicesjanuary2024 aurora (borealis); @choicesficwriterscreations

Synopsis: Emma shows Beckett that the tuneless world has magic of its own.

It has been FAR too long since I've commissioned art of these two. So I am very excited to have been able to commission this piece by the ever talented ArtByAinna (IG) to kick off our TE @choicesbookclub

The vibrant hues of the aurora borealis painted the sky in a mesmerizing dance of celestial colors. Beckett and Emma found themselves at a secluded spot, away from the prying eyes of their friends. The ethereal lights shimmered overhead, casting a magical glow upon the landscape.

“Didn’t I tell you?” Emma teased, lacing her fingers with his as she rested her head on his shoulder. “The tuneless world has its own magic.”

Beckett couldn’t help but be captivated by the enchanting display painting the sky. “Wow,” the only word he could manage slipped quietly from his lips, his gaze fixed on the celestial wonder above.

Emma’s eyes sparkled with a blend of awe and admiration. “Nature's magic is unparalleled. Earth has her own set of spells that she blesses us with."

A surge of appreciation for a magic he had never considered before washed over him. Beckett had read of this natural event in books, of course, but he never imagined them quite like this. In his readings, it was simple. It was science, just a bit of chemistry—an interaction of particles, solar wind, and the Earth’s magnetic field—nothing special. Yet, the reality of what he thought nothing of, now, left him breathless.

Emma’s words continued to resonate with him as he stood entranced. He couldn’t deny the magnificent enchantment surrounding them. He slowly breathed in the cold air, letting it fill his lungs, the moment overwhelming him in the best way. As he exhaled, Beckett attempted to let go of the complexities of magical academia he had spent his life mastering, allowing room for this new appreciation for the tuneless wonders he never would have understood without her.

“It’s breathtaking,” he whispered, his words of reverence drifting from his lips in wisps of warmth against the cold air.

Emma’s gaze met his cool, grey eyes, which shimmered with the colors of the heavens. “Perhaps nature’s magic is the truest form. No spells, no textbooks—just the raw, untamed beauty of the world. Maybe that’s where it all started. Maybe this and other examples of Earth’s magic is the origin of all other magick we know.”

“Thank you.” His fingers brushed tenderly across her cheek as he cradled her face.

“For what?” She smiled softly.

“For sharing this with me—” he began, his gaze drifting once more to the beautiful dance above them. "—for convincing me that there are wonders and magic I still don't understand—" His words were quieter now, “—and... for being smarter than me.”

“What was that?” Emma’s brow quirked with mischief. "I couldn’t quite hear you—"

“You heard me well enough.”

She considered it for a moment. “I think I heard you say I was smarter than you—the one and only, Beckett Harrington. Are you sure you’re feeling alright?” She rested the back of her hand against his forehead.

He shook his head. “You’re enjoying this too much.”

“Well, if you want me to stop, you know what you have to do.” She grabbed the lapel of his navy peacoat, pulling him closer, their noses brushing together.

His freckled cheeks flushed at her gesture. “You’re impossible.” Beckett’s words were lost as he closed the gap between them. As their lips met, the warmth of her kiss seeped deep into him, a radiant glow that warmed him inside and out, like the gentle embrace of the soothing sun on a cold winters day.

The celestial lights above bore witness to their kiss, a moment of pure magic that rivaled the magic of this world and the magick of their studies.

I haven't written Beckett in... I honestly don't know how long 2, maybe 3??? years!?! I hope that our Book Club replay of TE will inspire some more Beckett and Emma stories. So far, I really only ever wrote them in my Detention Series.

Anyway, I hope you enjoy this!

[lovelyladyabsinthewrites]

Wrap Around Pt.2

Pairing(s): Oberyn Martell x Martell!Reader, Oberyn Martell x Ellaria Sand

Warnings: siblingxsibling implied, longing, inappropriate behavior but nothing too nsfw, no p in v, no touching

Words: 1607

Summary: You and Oberyn stargaze as his lovers sleep in his bed next door.

Part 1  Part 3  Part 4

PLEASE DO NOT READ IF YOU ARE SENSITIVE TO ANY OF THE WARNINGS/TAGS

Nights in Dorne varied from freezing to uncomfortably warm. All these years growing up in the desert land, you still found yourself victim to the night heat that had you tossing and turning. Perspiration accumulated on every inch of your body. Your bed, once a spot of relaxation and comfort, has become a humid swamp. Even laying naked offered no relief. Skin simply too warm and having had enough, you sit up and swing your feet to the cool tile of your chambers. Enough to make you sigh in gratitude. Toes spread to fully embrace the fresh sensation. All too soon the red tiles beneath you become lukewarm, there was no way you were getting any more sleep. You wondered if your brother was suffering as well.

“We shall suffer together.”You muse to yourself as you go to search for a lightweight robe to drape over yourself.

The halls of Sunspear were void of noise, quiet as a Westerosi sept. It didn’t feel right to you. There was always life during down, people going about their business and talking amongst one another. Fluttering in and out.

In fondness, you run your hand along the crafted walls that were cut off by towering pillars. Lightly scraping your nails, you could practically hear young Oberyn’s boisterous laugh.

Guards that had the misfortune of patrolling so lage are used to your nightly wanders. The older ones could easily recount you doing it since the sweet age of six. They always knew where you were going. The destination had never changed.

“I was wondering when you would show up.” A crooked grin on his face should always be mistrusted. Moving aside, Oberyn welcomes you into his room. He too was down to the bare minimum of clothing articles. Scars that each told of a story were printed on his chest. You admired for a moment the strong bridge of his naked collarbone.

Despite there being little light, you peer off to where his bed was positioned. There nestled in a thin sheet were two figures. “Did I interrupt something?”

“Never.” Reassuring you, Oberyn leads you out to his balcony that faces the dead black sea. Oberyn motions for you to take a seat in the wicker chair across from him. It had always been your seat. Like many items in the palace, the chairs had been crafted by Dorne’s finest. The cushions were made from fabric imported from Essos. No matter how long you sit on it, they never lose their softness.

While Oberyn pours the both of you a glass of wine, he tells you “When you were gone, I would come out here every night and just stare at the distant water.”

You knew your departure had been tough on your brother. It had been equally difficult for you as well. Casually taking a sip, your taste buds burst.

He shakes his head free of the past and pushes his chair next to you. It didn’t matter. The two of you were together once more.

Not even the heat could bother you now.

With Oberyn you stargaze and reminisce under the protective blanket of night. The stars in the sky could easily outnumber the population of Dorne; perhaps even Westeros.

Elia had loved nothing more than to gaze up at the bright, celestial beings. When she wasn't scolding you and calling you her “little savage”, she would hold you in her arms as she pointed out the different grouping of stars. Each had their own legends and Elia told you almost all of them. A wonderful story-teller, sometimes that wasn’t enough to stop you from acting like a hellion. The only one who could really go toe-to-toe with you was Oberyn. He had been just as wild. When he wasn't keeping you in line, Oberyn was right next to you causing endless mayhem that had your elder sibling rubbing their temples.

When you brought up your childhood antics, Oberyn laughs and reaches for your hand that was holding your wine. “Do you remember when you got this scar?” Gently Oberyn uncurls your pinky from the glass stem. Running like a river across your pink was a deep scar that was almost a decade old.

You grin. It was from when you had begged Doran to get someone to teach you how to use a sword. He refused. You had been fully prepared for this rejection. Having never been a child to easily concede defeat, you had a plan up your sleeve.

As part of your demonstration as to why you needed a teacher, you “borrowed” Oberyn’s sword and accidentally nearly sliced your entire pinky off. The pain lasted only seconds for you. Doran relented and agreed to get you a teacher. He also sent you to bed that night without any dinner and forbade anyone from giving you anything that would dull the pain in your pinky. Oberyn, loving you more than he feared his brother’s wrath, would not have you go hungry. Once Doran took his medication to put him into a deep sleep, Oberyn stole into your room and fed you.

“You always contradicted whatever command Doran gave.” Draining another glass, you’re content enough with the buzzing in your head. Your back slumped against the chair.

“Only when it came to you.”

Warm fingers brush against your naked shoulder as your robe had slid down an inch.

From the day you were born, Oberyn had spoiled you with his affection; giving you whatever your heart desired. Even now you knew if you were to ask Oberyn to bring you an enemy’s head, he would gladly hand it over on a gold platter for you.

Sadly you think for a moment how no man could every compare to your brother. It wasn’t fair.

An easy silence rolls over like a sigh. Noticing how your spirits were depleting, Oberyn silently refills your cup. After having traveled throughout Essos, the nights in Dorne still could not be beat. Especially with your brother beside you. The heat no longer bothered you, a different kind of warmth was engulfing you quickly.

When you shifted your arm up to push away a wild strand of your hair, you felt your robes loosen around your chest and the slow descent of your left sleeve off your shoulder. Wantonly your cleavage reveals itself. Long lashes cast shadows over. Oberyn’s beautifully molded lips are parted and it takes the self control of a septa to prevent yourself from kissing him.

It wasn’t right.

Not with Oberyn.

But your body craved him like he was your only salvation. What had you done in your previous life to deserve such cruel inflictions?

You had made the resolve a few years ago that you would never cross the line with Oberyn.

That didn’t mean you couldn’t toe the line and test the waters.

He understood this too and would always respect the boundaries you had set.

Bravely tucking at the edge of your robe, you show a little more of the expanse of your chest. The dip of your collar bone, running down to your breasts. His hand twitches in response with the desire to cup your tit.

You dared to look at him and the vibrant shade of want overcame his cheeks. “If you could touch me, what would you do?”

Oh. What wouldn’t he do?

Oberyn grins, aware of the games you enjoyed playing. He runs his fingers along your jawline before leaning close to your ear.

You close your eyes as he describes how he would toy with your nipples first. Squeezing them softly between his index finger and thumb before taking it into his mouth to suck gently.

You squeezed your thighs tightly together.

“And I can assure you my touches will be slow and torturous.” He nuzzles the side of your face. So close to your lips. If only you had more courage. “For if I were ever allowed to touch you, I will take my time to savor every inch.”

Thankfully he also knew when you were at your limit. Oberyn leans back into his chair, trying to dismiss his own afflictions. After a sip of wine, he is ready once more; back to his sultry, teasing ways. “And if you could touch me, what would you do?”

Cheekily smiling at him, you lower your eyes in a coy deploy and open your mouth to reply. The groggy body of one of his lovers sitting up in bed behind him made you shut up.

Having watched the abrupt drop of your face, Oberyn turns around. Only taking you seconds to cover your chest and readjust your clothes, you squint into the darkness.

“(y/n)?” Ellaria calls out in a sleep muffled voice. “Is that you?”

You breathed more easily and stood up alongside Oberyn. “Sorry for waking you. I was just about to go back to bed.” Setting down your wine glass you realised the insides of your thighs were wet.

Hastily passing by the bed and a quick kiss to Ellaria’s cheek, you bid them both a good night.

Had things gone too far? It worried you during your scurry back to the safe haven of your room. Tucked behind your door, you let yourself fall onto your bed. The racing of your heart drummed in your ears.

So close.

He had been so close to you. You could easily see the fine points of his eyelashes. Ingraining his full, heart-shaped lips into your memory.

Achingly slow, you run your hand down your neck and past your robes; descending further down until. . .

You close your eyes and moan, replaying Oberyn’s words.

-----------

Taglist:

@hoziersfairy​

@rosaliedepp​

@iiconicxpersona​​

[its-malarkey]

“The Hero and the Warrior were like the Sun and the Moon, a protective glow shining upon the world. Together, there was nothing that could stop the two of them, either in the Celestial Realms or on Earth”

“Like light, heroes bring warmth, hope, and friendship. But they also give life to the darkness”

Something something been having brainrot about how MK is a manifestation of the relationship between Wukong and Macaque and a representation of history repeated and learned from. He’s all of Wukong’s traits and all of Macaque’s fears reimagined in a new being, and because of who he is as a person, he walked the same path as them and didn’t lose himself in the process

It’s fascinating to me to look at the three of them because the show makes an excellent point of constantly comparing and contrasting them. MK is like Wukong but he’s something more light and a little less confident. He’s living in Wukong’s shadow with every move he makes even if Wukong himself isn’t aware. Macaque doesn’t notice this at first though and constantly hammers in that to him, MK is Wukong’s worst traits potentially repeated— and while it looks like he’s just taunting MK in Shadowplay, I think it was a little more than that. He’s trying to warn MK in his own way— “don’t become like Wukong”. He clearly thinks MK is a good kid, he goes out of his way to say it multiple times. And MK continuously proves him wrong, trying to convince him to join their side in season three even while Macaque is actively harming them, and then again when he refuses to leave Mei behind in the season 3 finale. Everything he does contrasts Wukong spectacularly even though (or rather, BECAUSE) he has the same characteristics

And by the end of season 3’s special, MK has earned Macaque’s support for it

(I’m so looking forward to the idea of Wukong and Macaque truly reconciling because Wukong’s gone through a lot of the smacks on the head that he needs to tell him he needs to take a different approach to the way he interacts with Macaque after all the mistakes he’s made)

[starsfic]

Hello there :P

Is it okay if you can write something based on these drawings? It’s about history repeating itself but MK and Red Son talked things out after their fight while Wukong and Macaque reminisce about how they could’ve talked things out too centuries ago

@swirly-strawz: Spicynoodles, but they go through the Hero and the Warrior allegations (The Harbinger and The prince were like the stars and flames-), eventually ending with MK and Red Son talking things out with lots of tears (MK has a head injury and Red Son has an eye injury) Bonus: Shadowpeach watching this whole ordeal progress all the way to after the fight

The Harbinger and the Prince were like the stars and the flames, their glow providing light and warmth upon the world. Although the two had started out as rivals, they grew to learn that, together, there was nothing that could stop them, either in the Celestial Realm or on Earth.

However, as the Harbinger grew in power, the shadows began to block out his starlight. In the darkness, the Prince was forgotten by his starlight.

Eventually, as all things lead, the two were led into a mighty clash. Thankfully, the hero and the warrior were spared by fate. Although both were injured by the other, they realized that their fight was not against each other...

Soft sobbing filled the cottage.

It was located in the main bedroom. Once a space cluttered with peach chip crumbs and remains of the past, it had been cleaned up so the duo lying in bed would be safe and comfortable. Currently, comfort was not a priority.

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry..."

"My Light, it's alright..."

"No, it's not!" Qi Xiaotian's eye, the one not covered by the bandage that covered half of his face, gleamed with gold for a split second as his emotions rose up. He took in a deep breath, held it for five seconds, and let it out slowly. "No, it's not. I nearly ripped out your eye because I didn't want to listen to you about how I was hurting myself."

"That was a lot of you in that," Despite the complaint, the edges of a smile decorated Red's face. "I could've worded myself and done better to make my emotions clearer, including my concern. You shouldn't have to deal with my blow-ups."

"Yeah, but your blow-ups are part of who you are."

"Not a good part..."

Neither noticed the monkeys hovering next to the doorway, listening in tense silence. Wukong kept glancing back inside, his tail flicking back and forth. Macaque stayed still, so still that anyone else would've mistaken him for being a statue.

"I'm sorry for leaving you behind and hurting you."

"I'm sorry for hurting you."

Both flinched at the apologies.

[im-yn-suckers]

midnight rain

ok, ok i had no idea Taylor Swift had a song named 'Midnight Rain' so do not come at me lol

pairing-bf niki x fem reader(jays younger sister)

warnings-kissing, dancing in the rain, emotional jay, kinda long ngl hehe, theres a shower at the end so thats up to you to decide if theyre separate or not:) not proofread

song- A Thousand Years by Christina Perri

11:59 pm. it was pouring outside and you two were watching it. you watched the way it hit the ground. he watched the way you adored the rain. he knew you wanted to go play in it because you kept looking at him every now and then.

-"let me guess, you want to go play in it?"- he asked already knowing your answer. you nodded excitedly in response.

-"lets go then"- he said putting on his hoodie and tossing you his extra that was lying on the windowsill. you two left towels for when you returned

once you got outside, he was a little hesitant but you reassured him nothing bad was going to happen

-"what if the guys find out?"- he asked because jay was always worried that youd get sick. he wasn't too much of a protective brother. he knew you like niki and that niki liked you. he saw how happy you two were together so he decided he was the perfect one for you and you were the perfect one for him.

-"well then. come what may. hurry it might stop soon"- you grabbed his wrist and he followed you into the rain.

after a few minutes, you were being spun around. entering the soft embrace of niki, then leaving. niki looked ethereal with his hair dripping. the way his hair dipped into his eyes gave you butterflies. his face was beautifully lit up by the moon. his boxy smile and the way he looked at you was enough to know you love him and he love you.

the moon highlighted his straight white teeth. the crease around his mouth when he smiled. his sharp cat like eyes. his plump lips. his sharp jawline. the wrinkles around his eyes.

he pulled you into his embrace. he held you by your waist. you put your arms around his neck, playing with his hair. he pressed his forehead against yours, smiling, looking into your beautiful eyes.

he loved the way his hands fit on your waist perfectly. the way your eyes sparkled in the moonlight. the way you looked with raindrops in you hair and on your eyelashes. how celestial you looked. not just celestial, more like ethereal, exquisite, airy, divine.

he loved the way your bodes fit together like pieces of a puzzle. the way you two could stay like this forever, with your foreheads pressed together, noses touching, eyes shut, swaying from side to side, you in his embrace, him holding you close to him.

he pressed his plump, pink lips against yours. he kept them there for a little while. you pressed your against his. you kissed him back and didn't want to stop. he pulled away and smiled at you. you smiled at him. and before you knew it his beautiful lips were on yours again.

that was until jay opened the door and saw you two kissing, soaking wet, in the rain, under the beautiful moon. he was going to say something but you two started to dance again. looking at you two waltzing in the rain made his heart melt.

he felt a tear slip down his cheek. he wiped it, decided to go inside and just watch through the window. the way he looked at you showed he was proud of both of you. his little sister, all grown up, waltzing with his younger best friend. his not so little sister, words couldn't express how he felt right now.

his not so little sister, finally found someone who loves her more than anything. his not so little sister, who loves someone more than anything. why did you two have to be so cute together? hi face was wet from watching you two dance the night away

-"i love you more than anything, y/n"- he said pulling you into a hug

-"i love you too, niki"- you said burying your head into his chest.

-"now, may i have this last dance, princess?"- he asked, bowing like and elegant prince as he held out his hand.

-"why of course you may, prince."- you answered taking his hand

you waltzed for another 10 minutes, all while jay and the rest of enhypen watched you two be a fluff, cliché couple. jay, wiping his face and washing it in order to hide the fact that he was crying. he pulled you into his embrace one last time.

all the enhypen members watched as niki kissed his favorite person in the world. the kiss was filled with all sorts of emotions but mostly, love, happiness, joy, excitement, innocence and passion. you kissed him back, arms around his neck. one of his hands on your waist, the other holding the back of your head. he pulled away and left one last soft peck on your lips.

1:19 am, jay had been watching for half an hour, enhypen had only been watching for ten minutes. you two made your way back inside, hand in hand. only to find enhypen sitting on the couch with crossed arms.

-"ok we weren't out there for long"- niki said in attempt to save you two.

-"i was watching for half an hour"- jay said

-"we're really sorry"-you apologized

-"we're not mad, we're proud"- jay said and all the members agreed

-"proud of what?"- you asked

-''you two. for finding the ones you truly love. just please don't do this again. or at least let us know''- jay said

-''ok''- you two murmured in agreement.

long story short, these were the moments that would last a lifetime. they were the moments that proved you would be together forever. the night ended with a warm shower and cuddles.

-''i love you, so, so much''- niki reminded you

-''i love you too my love''- you answered

an: i dont know anything abt dancing soooo. did yall see his weverse update????????? im not ok. i might write a fic abt paragraphs 8-11. should i??? js explaining everything he loves and everything you love. i got a lil carried away eh heh not me crying while writing this

[porty-clone-king]

The Hero and the Warrior were like the Sun and the Moon. Their light, a protective glow, shining upon the world. Together, there was nothing that could stop the two of them, either in the Celestial Realms or on Earth. As time went on, the Hero attained power beyond comprehension. As the Hero's light grew, so too did his shadow, and soon, the Warrior was cast in that shadow. In the darkness, the Warrior was forgotten by the Hero...

[oh-katsuki]

Alright Cal, gimme Gojo + monsterfucking please :)

this one goes crazy because i actually moaned the second i got it. like i literally started shivering and i hmmmggggggjfnbjrkegmmg.

sorry in advance for how like... disgusting this is. when you sent this i could NOT stop thinking abt biblically accurate angel gojo and it sent. me into a crazy frenzy. im crying and screaming and moaning

cw: biblically accurate angel gojo, MAJOR sacrilege (we pray together while gojo finger fucks us), fingering, power dynamics, kinda god complex but also not really, im absolutely going to hell for this im immediately going to hell im almost afraid bc i was raised catholic and actually fear god so bad.

"be not afraid," he'd said, crawling into your room through the open window.

white hair and a head made of three rotating rings covered in bright blue eyes. big white wings from his back, four of them and his clothes are a plain suit, where his head connects to nothing. you can't see anything around him, nor can you register any features. it feels like his face and the rings clip in an out of each other. even though you're looking at brilliant gold rings covered in eyes, you're certain that you can make out a man, someone made in your image.

"do you know how to pray?" he asks you, extending his hands by his side. the voice, a rich tenor, seemed to come from everywhere and nowhere.

"yes," you respond, trying to hide the shaking of your hands. your head is tilted downward, facing the bedspread you sit on.

"kneel then, before an angel of the lord," he says, motioning to the ground in front of him.

you listen, bound by something you can only call heavenly duty. you don't dare steal another glance up at him, afraid to gaze at the beauty and might of his celestial form.

he crouches in front of you, taking your face in his two fingers and pinching your cheeks together, "he really did make you in his image," gojo says, turning your cheeks over.

you stare back with hollowed eyes. this is not the attitude of any angel you've ever imagined. the gold rings spin in accordance with the speed of his speech and you feel that they somehow indicate his emotions to you.

"the lord is obsessed with you, you know," he says, dropping your face. you immediately return to looking at the floor, hands clasped together in prayer.

"me?" you squeak.

"your species," he says quietly, like he's thinking about something. "humanity."

you nod softly, swallowing thick, "and you?"

"what about me? i'm but a messenger," he says plainly.

"humanity. are you fond of us?"

he tilts his head, still crouching in front of you. "raise your head, human."

you oblige, meeting those brilliant spinning rings of gold and blue. strangely, through all of it, you can tell that he's smiling and beautiful.

"i am," he says quietly. "but i'm quite fond of you in particular."

"me?" you squeak and he nods his celestial head.

"you."

"what's your name?" you ask.

"satoru," he answers. "to understand."

"what are you?"

he tilts his head. "an angel of the lord."

you shake yours in response. "you don't seem like one."

"have you met many other angels?" he questions, tilting his head to the side.

"no," you swallow. "but i get the feeling that you're not a proper angel."

he sighs, standing up. "you're right. i'm not a proper angel. you see, i love humanity more than i love god."

you bite your tongue, keeping your head bowed. "so who am i meant to be praying to right now, then?"

satoru shrugs his shoulders and the metal rings clink together, "me, if only because i'm in front of you."

"but i don't know you," you say, "not like i know god."

satoru gives a small laugh. "what would you like to know, then?"

you look up at him, hands still clasped together. "anything you have to tell."

satoru's hand comes up to gently cup your face. the pads of his fingers are smooth and soft. they're uncalloused and pink at the tips, like you're the first thing he's ever touched. your belly flips and satoru raises an eyebrow.

"you know, angels are not so dense as humans," he laughs lightly, running his hand from your cheek to the hair by your face. "we're inclined to see the things you can't."

"what does that mean?" you question.

"it means that i can see your desire," he says plainly, "your curiosity. your wants and wishes and feelings in the moment."

you bite the inside of your cheek.

"what you want from me, i can give you," he says softly. his voice bounces around in your head and settles between your eyebrows. "if you ask. if you pray."

your curiosity, the sin built in you from birth, leads you to listen.

"bow your head," he states. you oblige.

satoru's hands come down on your shoulders. they're warm and soft, applying pressure to your body in a touch that feels like it's made you glow. you clench your thighs together where you kneel. "our father," he starts, stepping behind you and running his hands down the sides of your arms, "who art in heaven," and over your stomach, "hallowed be thy name."

you suck in a breath when he reaches the crest of your sex, guilt and desire pooling at the base of your stomach. the light that covers you is calming, like a blessing, but you feel the tinge of sin bite at your ankles and the base of your skull.

"t-thy kingdom come," you exhale and satoru mumbles a good into your ear, pressing his fingers to your clit over your panties. "thy will be done."

"on earth," he slips a finger in and you gasp. "as it is in heaven."

he starts to slowly pump his fingers inside of you. his hand is pressed between your thighs, sandwiched because he's made no effort to spread them. still kneeling, he curls them inside of you.

"give us this day," he says, running his other hand up your side, "our daily bread."

you start to build. pressure mounts in your lower gut as he slips another finger in.

"and forgive us our trespasses," you breathe out shakily, meaning every word. it comes out like you are begging and behind you, satoru whispers his response.

"as we forgive those who trespass against us," he picks up his pace, fingers making a wet and sticky sound with each curl. you build, toes curling where they are tucked underneath you.

"and lead us not into t-temptation," you gasp, beginning to press against the wall of pleasure that's been mounting in your stomach. the coil winds tighter and you clasp your hands together tightly as if you ward off the sin that comes with this.

"but deliver us from evil," satoru says, his voice slick with a smile.

"amen," you say, the end of it cut off by the long and drawn-out whimper.

your clasped hands trembled before you unclasp them, reaching behind you to grab satoru's arm, which has snaked it's way around your neck in a possessive show of desire.

you sit up slightly, arching your back and spreading your legs to allow his hand to work deeper into you. satoru, the angel of the lord, draws out the last of your orgasm from deep within you, curling his long fingers at a steady pace until you collapse back onto his chest with a heaving sigh.

"if you plan to ask for forgiveness," he says quietly, letting you catch your breath against his chest, "ask it from me."

"why?" you pant.

"because i'd love to say a hail mary with you."

[cows-wearing-my-sweater]

celestial

word count: 1044 warnings: none notes: i was in the middle of writing a totally different fic but i suddenly got way more inspiration for this so i kinda had to do it LOL (p.s listen to mazzy star or slowdive while u read this)

“I thought I was so obvious about it,” you say with a laugh.

Matty shrugs. “Maybe I just couldn’t believe I deserve someone like you.”

You tap his shoe with yours, a simple sign of affection. It’s easy with him. It’s easy to say nothing and everything while you lie next to Matty on your rooftop in the dead of night. It’s that early summer sort of night, the type where the air smells sweet and cool, and the stars are brighter than you previously remembered. You wonder if the dot in the sky that seems to sparkle is Venus. A moment of comfortable quiet falls before you prod him further. “Someone like me?”

“Well, yeah.” Matty says this as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “You’re just… you. It feels like I’m doing you a disservice when I try to find something I can compare you to. ‘Course I didn’t think someone like you was gonna be fucking in love with me. Not after I’ve acted like a twat so much,” he adds.

You hum thoughtfully at this. Your hand searches for his in the dark, and when you find it you link your pinky fingers together. You’ve always done this – the motion is second nature now. You like to imagine you can feel electric pulses running between the two bodies through such a small action, like you’re two parts bonding into a whole. “You’re not that much of a twat,” you tease him. “I’d still like you even if you were. You’re just too good.”

“You’re crazy,” Matty tells you affectionately.

“Says you.” 

Matty doesn’t respond, but taps your foot. It means “I love you.”

You bring your focus back up to the stars and point out a constellation to Matty. You don’t really see the shapes they supposedly make, but you know they’re there regardless. “It always amazes me that these are the same stars that have always been watching us. It’s the same sky and moon too. They’re constants.” You say this more to yourself than to Matty, but he listens nonetheless. “So much has changed but it’s still the same universe. We’re still so small and it’s still so big.”

Matty studies you while you speak. Your eyes reflect like pools of the celestial sky; he could dive in them and be bathed in starlight. He could reach out and touch your skin and it would burn him, just as if he had touched a star. His fingers beg to trace your lips in an attempt to capture the sounds that escape them; it equates to hearing a beautiful orchestra for the very first time.

“You’re awfully quiet,” you point out. You had been speaking for quite awhile, completely uninterrupted. Usually Matty would have thrown in his own thoughts by now, but he’s still just watching you speak. 

“Am I?” he asks with a frown.

You nod and slip your hand from his, raising it to poke his temple with your index finger. “What’s going on in there?”

Matty grins at you. He’s been waiting for this opportunity. “D’you really wanna know?”

“Yes, idiot, of course I do/”

A look of satisfaction appears upon Matty’s face. “I’ve been thinking about you and what you’re like and how I still get surprised that you’re in love with me the same way I am with you. And I’m in love with the way you love, [Y/N], you have so much affection for such beautiful things. You make me feel like a beautiful thing with your love.” You take note of the familiar glint in his eyes, the way he seems to emanate energy when he gets excited and can’t stop rambling. “There’s a natural sort of beauty about you and some days I’m not sure a world like this could have produced something so perfect. It’s like… you must have been sculpted from some celestial body that we haven’t discovered yet. If there were some kind of divine power, you’d be the reason I'd believe in it.”

You bring yourself closer to Matty and nestle yourself by his side, his arm wrapping around you. “I was right when I said you’re just too good.” You think hard on what to say next, turning Matty’s own words over in your head again and again. It’s more than difficult to be so effortlessly poetic in the moment the way Matty is. You tell him this. “I wish I could place you right inside my head so you would be able to see just how much you occupy my mind every single day. You’re everywhere I look and my love for you follows. It lives where I live.”

Matty leans into you further, turns his head to rest on yours. He needs to breathe you in. “You know when something just feels really right, like it’s where you’re supposed to be?” he asks. His voice is softer now, his lips closer to your ear.

“Yeah. Definitely.”

“This is one of those things. Being with you, I mean.”

“I could’ve told you that from day one,” you tease. “You were too busy thinking I couldn’t be in love with you.”

Matty gasps dramatically. “I cannot believe you’d speak to me like that after I poured my heart out to you.”

You pointedly ignore this. Tree branches up above you sprawl across the sky, reaching out into nothingness. Gentle breeze shakes them, leaves rattling in unison. The sound makes you tired, and Matty’s body warmth certainly doesn’t help. You stifle a yawn, but not without Matty noticing.

“You wanna go back inside, darling?”

You give a noncommittal shrug. Truthfully, you want to stay out here all night, watch the sky slowly turn to a rosy pink and hear the familiar bird calls; you want to watch things start anew. You’re just as content with the thought of a soft bed though, and, more importantly, Matty’s rhythmic breathing to lull you off to sleep. 

The stars twinkle kindly down upon you and your lover. You hope that when you die you become a big ball of light. You hope that Matty joins you in that way, nothing but pure energy, withstanding time and space. You could be eternalized in this universe with him.