#and im sure that ‘blood and honey’ and ‘the mean one’ had heart and passion put into them

[geneposting]

if wreck it ralph gets released into the public domain in my lifetime i’d actually be pretty excited for people to make horror media of it.

theres a lot of weird and scary implications baked into the universe of wir and it’d be fun to explore those without the constraints of a pg rating.

but i just know that if it happened, the full extent of the horror would end up being ‘what if ralph was a spooky serial killer and there was blood everywhere’ like every other horror adaptation of a children’s public domain property

[obscure-imagines]

*Horror genre/smut warning*

-He’d be very tentative to catch feelings for anyone because he’s a very depressed boi

-quiet guy is hard to get to know, especially after an apocalyptic event

-Even if you’re survivors together, he’s just kind of going to be floating around quietly, so if you want to get to know Hyunsu, you’re going to have to make an effort

-Hyunsu is drawn to beautiful things, things that inspire hope (music, kids, etc...) and he can enjoy pleasurable things for a time, but Hyunsu is always terrified that good things will be torn from his grasp, so he never wants to let himself love something too easily

-Boy has his found family, so being accepted by his loved ones would be really important.

-It would be the elder survivors like Han and Gilseob who notice the connection between you and Hyunsu first

-i’m talking hard core pining, long looks, Hyunsu’s eyes finding you any time you enter a room, but you’re both oblivious to each other

-It’s a tough situation because Hyunsu is still treated like a monster at times, and people are obviously scared of his dark side

-Hyunsu can’t even imagine getting close to you, for fear that he’ll hurt you

-his monster alter ego even toys with him by mentioning you sometimes, further increasing the poor boys anxiety

-He’d get growingly agitated any time you have to put yourself in danger, and always ends up going places with you just to make sure you’re protected

-it starts with him just kind of shadowing you when you head up to your apartment for something one day

-the building is pretty much safe, but when you catch Hyunsu out of the corner of your eye, you almost have a heart attack, which he apologizes profusely for

-he goes with you to your room and is kind of awkward at your door because you’re a pretty girl and he’s about to go into your apartment, even if it is a post apocalyptic world, boy has manners

-He’s also just very big and tall, so even though he kind of hunches over, he sticks out like a sore thumb in your apartment

-he’s so quiet, but once you find something you both mutually enjoy to talk about, he begins to loosen up

-he continues shadowing you, he’s pretty much your designated monster survival partner 

-at dinners you start to eat together and everyone is low key hoping you both work out, but are also worried about what it could mean for you if Hyunsu turns full monster out of the blue one day

-He’s very hesitant to allow you to touch him, so you’d have to start small

-like maybe you offer to help him clean up some residual blood left on his skin after he’s healed from a fight

-Hyunsu all but holds his breath while you wipe his skin

-big uwu boy, heart eyes to the extreme

-he honestly just needs a good cuddle and one day, after a particularly rough event where you almost die, Hyunsu is too tired to be in full control of himself, so when you crawl into bed with him, wrapping your arms around his frame, Hyunsu allows himself to enjoy it

-the biggest soft boy is the small spoon sometimes cuz he really needs it

-he falls asleep in your arms and it’s the most peaceful sleep he’s had in maybe years

-when he wakes up, he rolls to cuddle against your chest, still half asleep and unaware of what he’s doing until he can hear the beat of your heart under his ear and realizes you’re not just a pleasantly warm pillow

-boy practically jumps out of the bed and needs to be pulled back into your embrace

-if you start massaging his scalp and holding him to your chest- he’s going to die, like, he’ll never be happier

-He craves your cuddles like nothing else in the whole world, and allows himself more and more to be happy when he’s with you, and to be with you often

-seeing him smile is so odd, people are shook

-the first day you grab his hand in front of people makes his heart melt

-the two of you are simply waiting for dinner, and you grab his hand, playing with his fingers casually

-you don’t even notice how impactful the gesture is

-after dinner, Hyunsu finds himself swept away by the key men of the group, Han thinks it’s all very cute, Gilseob agrees with Han but he’s worried like Eunhyeok that Hyunsu could be a danger to you. Sangwook is just there because they dragged him along

-Hyunsu is still worried he could hurt you and you notice him pulling away after his discussion with the guys, which leads to him fully communicating to you all his fears about being a monster and not being good enough for you

-squash all his anxieties with a kiss

-Hyunsu will melt against you, your lips are the best cure for his busy mind

-if you tug a little at his hair boy will be whipped forever

-once he opens up to you, he’ll tell you everything

-time spent cuddling and just talking

-tracing his scars and kissing them, telling him you’ll never leave him

-him being worried about becoming a monster but you’re so determined he won’t- and you won’t let him try to avoid you for your ‘own safety’ so he’s pretty much just stuck with loving you and accepting that you make him happy and he’s allowed to be happy

-helping him cut his hair and being shook by how much younger he looks

- “do you like it?” he wants to make sure you still like his new hair

-he’s so much more boyish- it honestly makes it worse when his hair is short because people have been straight up offering him up to really hard jobs because he ‘cant die’

-like, you’re going to be fiercely protective of this boy, just as he is of you

-yeah he’s the one that ‘cant die’ but if someone tries to be even slightly mean to him, you’re jumping in and throwing fists

-’oh? you guys think it’s a good idea to sacrifice him to the military/government for our survival? time to meet my fists’ you’ll jump in swinging i swear to god

-you would probably be down to fight Eunhyuck on the daily for how he treats Hyunsu like his watch dog/hound

-low key everyone is prepared to wake up and find you and Hyunsu just gone one day

-he looks at you with the biggest heart eyes, like, boy is so in love with you and anyone can see it

-he’s going to cherish any time with you

-nights are for cuddles and memorizing your face in the moonlight that comes through the windows

-will find you cute little gifts, like, if he knows you like certain books or stuff like that he’ll keep an eye out for things to amuse you when he’s looking for supplies 

-being way too fucking cute. like. this is an apocalypse and this man is just out here being a full fucking simp for you im-

-be careful as he gets more in love with you though because if someone threatens you, his monster side will pop out

-you’re feeling fragile one day and someone says something rude about Hyunsu and ‘how much time he has left’ and when Hyunsu finds you crying, his eyes go black and his monster side demands you tell him who he has to go kill for you

-after that, you can be certain his monster side won’t ever hurt you, which makes Hyunsu feel a lot more relaxed

-boy finally lets you touch him for longer than like five minutes because he’s not scared of loosing himself when he’s with you anymore

-ok, let’s be real, ya’ll would find ways to fuck even during the apocalypse

-boy deserves it. he DESERVES IT I TELL YOU

-soft honey boy, starts so soft, so much kissing and foreplay

-you’d really have to initiate things going farther than just kissing, and he’d worship you if you undressed for him

-10/10 will tell you he loves you while buried completely inside of you

-lots of gripping and passion, breathless kisses, hand holding and finger squeezing

-let him burry his face in your neck

-the sweetest aftercare filled with cuddles, hugs, kisses, and sweet words of affirmation

-he’s super shy about petnames, but you pet your ass that this big soft boi is going to let ‘jagiya’ (honey/sweetheart) slip every once and again.

-super shy about pda around other people, but you purposefully like to show how much you love him to make everyone else think twice about being mean to him or prejudice because he’s ‘infected’, whatever that even means.

-stealing his massive clothes

-taking care of him in ways that count, like making sure his depression doesn’t get the better of him being able to complete basic tasks, like cleaning him after a fight and making sure he eats properly

-being Hyunsu’s proof that humans can live with monsters, because you’ll never let him go and you love him

-i mean, not even going to lie, 10/10 Hyunsu would make living in monster world worth it

[javisjeanjacket]

Safety Net - (marcus moreno x fem!reader)

A/N: I have nothing to say for myself except that i’m not sorry at all and don’t look at me. YES IM AWARE ITS A KIDS MOVIE BUT LIKE ...he hot🥺

Word count: 2.6K

Warnings: marcus moreno’s sexy ass, NSFW, 18+, eating, unprotected sex (wrap it up gang), oral sex (m recieving), fucking in a chair, f masturbation, cursing, i think that’s all:)

The smell of a hot pan cooling on the stove wafted through the house, and you breathed in it's scent gratefully.

"Mm, smells so good, honey." You noted, flicking your eyes up from the steaming lunch on the plate before you to meet Marcus's eyes.

Marcus grinned and chewed the bite of vegetables he was crunching in his mouth.

You scooped a helping of veggies into your mouth and chewed, the flavor of the spices Marcus used enveloping your taste buds in warmth. You tapped an impatient finger on the kitchen table and trained your eyes on the spot where the pad of your finger met the texture of the wood table below.

Marcus swallowed and asked, "You okay?"

You looked up to him and swallowed your bite. "Can we...talk?"

Marcus's eyes widened and the dark rims of his glasses made them look almost cartoonish. He put his fork down on the rim of his plate and wiped his hands on a napkin. He took in a deep breath and answered, "Sure."

You bit the inside of your lip and began, "We've been together for...awhile now."

Marcus nodded eagerly, his chest burning with the words he knew would be tumbling from your mouth any second. He could feel the disappointment and the melancholy that would fester in your absence already settling over his shoulders.

"And we still haven't, well, you know." You raised your eyebrows at him, trying to indicate what you were thinking. 

Marcus swallowed against his dry throat and nodded that he understood.

"So what I'm asking is," Your chest pounded so loudly you could feel it's reverberations in your ears. "Do you-,” You sighed, trying to summon the courage to finish your question. “Are you attracted to me? Like, sexually?"

He reached across the table and grabbed one of your hands. "Sweet girl-" He pressed your knuckles to his lips, pressing soft kisses to each dip. His dark eyes looked into yours and flames began to sizzle in the pit of your stomach.

Your hips shifted slightly in the chair, the movement warding away the inkling of want in your core. "If it's me, I think I deserve to know." You added, your voice afraid.

Marcus dropped your hand from his lips and shook his head vigorously. He leaned back in his chair and let out a flustered breath.

The light from the windows behind him cast a dark shadow around his form that reached across the table and to you.

He took off his glasses and set them on the table, then rubbed the heels of his hands over his eyes. "No. No, honey, it's not you. Believe me.” He dropped his hands from his face and let out another heavy sigh. “It's not you."

You dropped your gaze from his eyes to his unfinished food in front of him. "Do you want to talk about it?"

Marcus crossed his arms over his chest. He looked into the kitchen and lost himself a moment before replying, "The last time that I was with anyone was with...." The ending to his sentence too precious for him to bring to life again.

"Your wife?" You whispered, the words tender and shivering on your tongue.

He pulled his lips into his mouth and nodded slowly. He looked back down at his plate and you could see the tops of his ears growing red.

"I don't mean to put pressure on you, Marcus. If you want to wait, we can wait. I just wanted-" You tried to assure him.

"No, I don't. I don't want to wait anymore.” He looked down at his hands and the small Heroics symbol tattooed across the skin by his thumb. “Not with you." His dark eyes looked up to yours and it was their force that knocked the wind from your chest. 

Struggling under his gaze, your rib cage seemed to breathe in it's own marrow- inhaling the surging adrenaline fizzling to life in your veins. Your eyebrows tensed and you reached your hand across the table towards him. "Are you sure?"

He took your hand cautiously and ran his thumb over your digits softly. "Yes. I'm just...kind of..." He trailed off, getting lost in the texture of your skin under his.

"Afraid?" You finished for him.

Marcus's eyes looked back up to yours, emotion sitting underneath them and bubbling in his chest. The need and desire on his face was matched fully by the fear snarling underneath the surface. His grip tightened on your hand and you took in a shaking breath.

You stood from your chair and walked towards him. You ran a tender hand through his thick, dark, hair and cupped his cheek.

Marcus's eyes shifted over your face and his chest thumped rapidly as you leaned closer to him. 

"Just tell me if you need to stop, okay?" You whispered, gently brushing your lips against his.

He reached a hand up to your neck and nodded as he gently pushed, bringing your mouth to slot against his.

You melted into his kiss, your eyelashes fluttering at the softness in his touch. You rested a hand on his shoulder and the other sprawled over his face, his stubble tickling your soft palm.

He moved his second hand to grip your waist, his thick fingers fiddling with the hem of your shirt. He swiped his tongue across your bottom lip and you opened your mouth for him.

You could feel passion growing within him and smiled into his kiss as his hand on your hip guided you towards his lap. You sat on his thighs and the fire kindling in your stomach began to crackle and pop, the bulge in his jeans moving across your needy core. You moved your hands up to work through his hair and pulled softly.

He moved his hands to cup your ass, one of his wide palms shifting upwards and underneath your shirt. The warmth of his skin sent a jolt of pleasure through your simmering body.

Your hips jerked involuntarily and you cooed into his kiss. Your hands grasped at his green t-shirt, pulling it up and over his head to drop it on the floor behind his chair. You nuzzled your face into his skin, sucking and biting tenderly at his exposed chest.

Marcus hissed as you laved your tongue over the bites you adorned him with. His hands moved up your torso to your bra, his thumbs swiping across the cups and his fingers squeezing your body.

You kissed up to his ear and whispered his name as your hips began to rock against his, the rough fabric of your pants and his sending heat through your pussy.

"Hmm?" He answered, his hands now unhooking the clasp of your bra.

"Is it okay if I get on my knees for you?" You breathed on his ear and could almost see the hairs on the back of his neck stand up.

Marcus tried to stifle a moan and his hands shook as they gently pulled your bra and shirt down your arms, dropping them to the ground beside the table. He let his fingertips drag lightly down your skin as he looked over your body. He bit his bottom lip and whispered, "Yes."

You lifted yourself off of him and unzipped your pants enough to give your fingers access to your throbbing core, then sank to your knees, careful to move his chair so you wouldn't hit your head on the table. You unbuckled his belt and unzipped his pants, wiggling the pants and boxer briefs down his legs as he stood.

He sat back down and ran clammy hands down his bare thighs. "I've never been this scared before." He admitted, his gaze trained on you.

You shifted your eyes up from his impressive length up to the deep pools of his eyes. You ran your hands up his thighs to meet the shaking ones resting near his hips. You curled your fingers around his wrists. "Do you want me to stop?"

Marcus shook his head no, his blood pumping hotter and hotter in his veins. He had never faced something as overwhelming as this. He had never had to risk as much as this, never even wanted to consider the possibility before he met you. The fear of loving and losing was paralyzing. Anxiety surged through his body and was ticking rapidly in his chest. He felt the love he had held for his wife and how overcome with love he had been for her. He thought of the space between that love and the hollowness, the nothingness, he had felt when he lost her. More than anything, he wanted to just be a man in love with someone wonderful again. Not a Heroic or a widower, just Marcus. There was nothing more he wanted than for you to feel the fullness of his love blooming in his chest, and give you all he could despite the monstrous fear looming in his heart. Marcus was without a safety net, having had to live through the perils of falling from the life he once knew and down, down, down, into someplace he thought he would never make it out of alive.

He ran a hand through your hair, cupping your cheek in his hand. "I just-the last person I did this with, I lost. And I couldn't-" He let out a sigh and looked down from your gaze. "I couldn't do that again."

Keeping your eyes locked onto his, you pressed timid kisses to his legs. Your heart broke at his words and the expression on his face. You ran your hands back and forth over his knees, trying to soothe him. “Look at me.” You whispered. 

He swallowed tightly and flicked his eyes up to you, his face still cast downward.

"You're not going to lose me, sweetheart.” You whispered.

Marcus tilted his head from one side to the other, his eyes piercing. 

You pressed tender kisses to his legs, moving cautiously closer to his cock. “I’m not a superhero.” You said, then pressed your lips to his thigh. “I have a normal job in the city.” You kissed his opposite leg and let your hands shift higher up his body, your fingers brushing against the trail of hair near his belly button. “It’s safe, Marcus.” 

His dick twitched and wept for you, hungry for the friction of your walls around it. His hips bucked and he let out breath through his teeth as your hands moved steadily closer and closer to his penis. One of his hands gripped your hair and the other planted itself on the chair behind him.

"Let someone save you for once." You whispered, taking his cock in your hand and pressing your lips tenderly to the throbbing member. You looked up at him through your eyelashes and slowly swirled your tongue around the tip of him. You took a small portion of him into your mouth and bobbed up and down slowly, allowing him time to adjust to the feeling of being pleasured by someone other than himself.

He dropped his head back against the chair and let out a soft moan. His hand in your hair loosened it's grip, his fingers weaving in between the strands slowly.

You sunk more of him into your mouth and let your spit coagulate and drip down him. You gently moved your lips up and down his thick cock. You could feel his thighs tense around your torso and you moaned around him.

His body jerked subconsciously and his eyes fluttered closed.

You pulled off of him and whispered, "Tell me how it feels, baby." You took him back into your mouth and started to quicken your earlier pace, your hands working the skin where your lips couldn't reach.

Marcus opened his mouth and began to form a response, but the sound fell out of his lips before his brain could create the word. His body squirmed under your touch and he moaned low in his chest.

You cooed around his length and reached your hand into your underwear, rubbing the soaked folds at the same pace your mouth moved up and down him, faster and faster until you dropped him from your mouth to ask, "It's been so long, hasn’t it?"

His hand in your hair tensed and he growled, his hips moving to fuck your mouth. The chair underneath him squealed as he moved it over the floor little by little.

You took as much of him as you could into your throat and wiggled your mouth as far down as you could, choking as he pushed against the back of your throat. You moved your free hand to gently tease his balls and the other circled your clit, bringing a groan of pleasure out from your chest.

Marcus's hand in your hair tugged hard and he pulled you away from him, his chest heaving. "Stop, stop. I'm gonna cum."

You ran your hands up his abdomen and around the curve of his hips. "I want you to cum, Marcus." Your eyes flicked back up to his innocently.

He licked his lips and pulled you up from your knees. "I want to fuck you first."

Your eyes met his and you could feel his passion burning and crackling in his chest. Your pussy clenched at his words and you shivered as his hand brushed against your ass, moving you back towards him. You straddled him, taking a moment to align his cock with your entrance. A wild whimper escaped your throat as you settled on him. Your hands clenched into his broad shoulders and your eyebrows tensed. Your body subconsciously began to grind against his, and the sheer mass of him inside you sent rockets of pleasure bursting and popping behind your eyes.

Marcus hummed low in his chest, the rumble sending warmth through you. His hands clutched at your hips, squeezing and guiding them as they squirmed, trying to adjust to his size. His mouth nipped at your breasts, sucking softly and rubbing the skin back and forth over his teeth hard enough to leave a mark. His mind began to blank, the pleasure of you around him pushing the doubt and anxiety so far from him he couldn’t remember what he had been scared about in the first place. He moved a hand from your hip to grasp your bouncing breast, his thumb teasing and pulling at the raised nub there.

You threw your head back and closed your eyes as you moaned.

"Okay?" He asked, his breath short and hot on your skin.

You nodded yes and wrapped both of your arms around his neck. You could feel yourself clench around him, the pressure so long awaited that you struggled to pace yourself.

Marcus's hand ran so softly up and down your body it almost tickled. He moaned as he thrust into you, the chair underneath squeaking with his movement.

Your back arched as you began to roll your hips against his. You whimpered and clutched at the ends of his hair desperately. Warmth ran up from where your core met his and wrapped itself around your lungs, your breath becoming shallow.

He hissed and moved both of his hands back to your hips as he picked up his pace. Your name fell from his lips followed by a loud groan.

You echoed him and tucked your face into the crook of his neck. His skin was warm under your lips as you whispered, "I've wanted this for so long. Fuck, you feel so fucking good."

Marcus kissed your cheek harshly and then groaned, his chest shuddering, "I'm sorry, honey."

"Wha-?" You asked breathlessly

He chuckled. “I'm gonna cum already." His arms flexed as he hugged your body to his and you could feel his cock twitching inside you.

You let out a few stacattoed yelps at his pointed thrusts, and said once you caught your breath, "Cum for me, Marcus."

His breathing warmed the shell of your ear as his pounding into your core became frantic. His hips snapped loudly and his jaw went slack. His face began to twitterpate and his chest heaved against yours. He grit his teeth as he reached closer and closer to his peak and you could feel the tension against your cheek.

Your mouth hung open and you braced yourself on the chair behind him. You cooed at the passion with which he loved you.

He growled and his pumping slowed as you felt the hot ropes of his release shoot into you. His body began to tremble and his breath fanned over your skin. "Holy shit." He stuttered. His arms relaxed, allowing you to sit up again.

You ran a gentle hand over his cheek and down his side while your mouth placed soft kisses to his jaw line and shoulder, soothing the trembling man underneath you.

"I never thought I’d feel like that again." He chuckled, running a warm palm down your thigh towards your ass. “I almost forgot how good it feels.”

"Well, I'll be here whenever you need a reminder." You teased him, pressing a kiss to the side of his mouth.

He gripped the back of your neck and pulled your lips to his, smiling as he kissed you. "I think you might need to remind me again, I’ve already forgotten.”

MARCUS TAGLIST: @artsymaddie​ @apples-of-february​ @anetteaneta​ @supernovafeather​ @phoenixhalliwell​

GENERAL TAGLIST: @softly-sad​ @autumnleaves1991-blog​ @over300books​

[fyeahnevilleslongbottomsocs]

YOUR FINGERPRINTS ON MY SKIN, A PAINFUL REMINDER! ⚰️ CAN BE READ ON AO3

❝Catherine Cullen, born out of wedlock to the late Carlisle Cullen and Elspeth Fynch, struggled to live in the village that had ostracized her since birth. At nineteen, her only chance for survival is to sell her body; ironically this is what leads to her mortal demise. Aristide Athanasiou of the Volturi, finds a Blood Singer in the form of Catherine Cullen after intending to kill her, but he spares her. And he spares her over and over again until the painful reminder of her beating fragile heart becomes too much for him to bear.❞

part of PETALS FOR ARMOR a twilight au series of one-shots! please read tags before reading the one-shot!

warnings: mild smut, blood kink ( ??? im not sure about this but just in case ), prostitution, possessive behaviour

pairing(s): OC/OC | Carlisle Cullen/OC ( past relationship )

characters: catherine cullen ( oc ) | aristide athanasiou ( oc ) | aro ( mentioned ) | carlisle cullen ( mentioned ) | elspeth fynch ( oc )

click on ‘keep reading’ if you prefer to read this one-shot on here instead of on ao3!

RED EYES BURN into her pale freckled skin, they belong to a young man of the name Aristide. Catherine Cullen doesn't have to turn around to know it's him, he's the only one who ever looks at her. Her freckled skin and long messy, matted strawberry-blonde hair made her less than attractive compared to the other women in the area, and, of course, there was the fact she was a bastard child. None of the local men wanted her and the village scarcely brought in travelers. Catherine loosens the buttons on her late husband's old white blouse, exposing her the chest before turning around. The young woman nearly gasps when she sees that Aristide is standing right behind her. She had expected him to be across the street, where he normally waited, every night that she came to these parts for the past month and a half. If she thought about it, she would reckon that it was unusual, scarcely any traveler stayed this long but he paid her well so who was Catherine to complain.

She clutches her chest inhaling sharply. Before she can scold him for startling her, Aristide reaches up in a swift movement and brushes over her bruised cheek "My sweet singer, what harm as befallen thy cheek," He questions her in honey-coated voice, his fingers are freezing against her skin but it feels good against her throbbing cheek. Sometimes Catherine thinks that Aristide feels to cold to be truly alive. He was a strange young man, the strangest she had ever encountered.

"It is nothing, Aristide, merely Pastor Cullen," Catherine says, "He does detest me so, and with his old age —"

"You should forbear attending —"

"You know that I cannot do that, Aristide," Catherine says fiercely, more fiercely than she intends to. The last thing she needs to do is scare of the only paying customer she has but that place meant so much to her mother. Even though Pastor Cullen had always treated her and her mother terribly, her mother, Elspeth Fynch, had insisted that they go as often as they could. Her mother had said that the place was very important to her late father, Carlisle Cullen. 

"He is old, Aristide. I have heard gossip that he is appointing a new pastor soon."

"Has thou? I am sure it shall be his son, that cannot be much better," Aristide says, sarcasm dripping from his tone and he's met with a solemn look.

"Afraid not, his son went missing nearly twenty years ago," Catherine says quietly, "On one of those vampire hunts, his father planned . . . No one knows what happened to him, we do not talk about it but I have heard many good things about the man."

Her mother had talked highly of him, Carlisle this and Carlisle that, was what had filled Catherine's childhood. Her father was all her mother talked about, his death had left a hole in Elspeth's chest and if he had not died than nobody would have known that Catherine was born out of wedlock and she wouldn't be facing the poverty that she is now. And perhaps her mother would not have perished so brutally upon that pyre all those years ago. Talking about Carlisle Cullen now did nothing but leave a bitter taste in Catherine's mouth. 

Aristide frowns, he wonders if it's possible that the missing man had found real vampires and if he did that would mean, he's still around somewhere. Aristide had not sensed any in the area but there are plenty of sewers that they can hide in here. He pulls Catherine closer, she was his and his alone. Aristide had been passing through London when he seen her wandering the streets late at night, in need of money for medicine. In fact, Aristide had not met a single supernatural creature in this town, not even a witch and they were almost everywhere. Although just because he had not sensed another vampire around, it doesn't mean they weren't there, they could have easily found a mundane scent to cover theirs up, the son she spoke of could still be around, hidden in the shadows, it would make sense as to why his father had survived so long without a single uprising to his medieval ways. This son could be hidden somewhere, anywhere in this village which means Aristide would have to keep a closer watch on Catherine.

He had not meant to grow so attached to Catherine, he usually killed his blood-singers hours after encountering them but for some odd reason he found himself besotted with Catherine. Aristide had know her for a month or so by now. It started on a night quite like this and her alluring scent sang to him, her scent was much better than her appearance, she had been near this exact spot looking for anyone willing to pay her for sexual favours. He had given her the money in exchange for her to come back to his home where she believed that they would have sex but he had other plans. Catherine was supposed to be his dinner that night but as soon as the door closed behind her and he moved to pounce, she kissed him hard against his open mouth. The very same mouth that had been seconds away tearing through her jugular and draining her of her life. After that Aristide couldn't bring himself to kill her, he let her kiss him hard over and over, pressing hot and wet kisses on his mouth and down to his neck. It ignited a feeling in him he hadn't felt in centuries and he knew he had to keep her around, for the past month he's been coming to this dump of town just to see her night after night. Some nights, she wasn't there because she had made enough money to pay for the medicine of the little girl that lived near her. Aristide doesn't understand why she bothers to work so hard for someone that isn't herself but he's grown to adore it because that means she has to be here to do it.

Catherine presses a clammy hand to his face "Aristide, are you alright? You have grown tense . . . Have I done something to upset you?"

"No, my sweet singer, I am cold, it has naught to try with you." Aristide says, pressing a kiss to her forehead with causes her to shiver.

"Indeed, you are freezing . . . Shall we go back to your place and warm ourselves up," Catherine offers, pushing herself against Aristide's cold body. She looks up at him through her pale lashes, his red gaze is hot, it feels as though it's burning straight through to her wicked soul.

"That sounds enchanting, ma chérie," Aristide says smoothly, whispering in her ear. And off they go, arm in arm to Aristide's 'place' hardly a block away.

Unlike the last few times, Catherine does not throw herself on him immediately after the door closes behind her and as much as he'd love to see her naked body writhing with pleasure and bathed in the candle light, he assumes she's grown fond of him; she must trust him now. He licks his lower lip, it was naïve of her to trust him but something about the thought of earning her misplaced trust excited him.

He lights the candles and she sits down on his bed, technically not his bed but the person who owned it before he killed them, but Catherine doesn't need to know that. He smiles at her and she smiles back at him albeit a bit hesitantly, her heart speeds up and he wonders why — could it be she possibly fancies him?

Catherine's desperate, desperate enough to give her body time and time again to a man she's quite certain is the devil. He has red eyes and he's perfectly perfect and oh so tempting. There is no way that Aristide is human but she never dwells on it for long, she needs the money. Agatha is sick and her parents are even sicker, Agatha relies on her, Catherine couldn't let her down and she doesn't care if she's sinning or not.

He stalks towards her slowly and comes to a stop between her legs, he lifts her head up with a finger and leans down to kiss her, slowly but passionately. Her heart skips a beat as she kisses him back, she reaches up and wraps her arms around his neck, he snakes his arms around her waist. Aristide starts trailing kisses down her mouth to her neck, allowing her to catch her breath as he didn't need to stop to do that. He kisses her neck, finding her pulse-point with ease, he kisses the spot again and again, then he gently drags his teeth against her skin which elicits a quiet moan from her. So unaware how close she is to death, he pulls away to study her, her eyes are closed and her pink lips are swollen. Freckles coat her face as well as her exposed shoulders, Aristide is sure that every inch of her is covered in freckles, making her look like a constellation in the sky.

Catherine lies down on the bed, she smiles up Aristide as she slowly begins to untie her dress, he reciprocates her smile as he begins to unbutton his petticoat. By time he's pulled his blouse of, she's untied her outer-layer corset, she shivers again and he wonder if his home is really that cold. He, of course, wouldn't truly notice.

"It is cold in here," Catherine whispers, her pale face flushed, as her thin fingers begin to remove her blouse, Aristide can see that they're trembling and he frowns. He had forgotten how sensitive humans were to temperatures.

"Keep it on, my sweet singer, you will be warmer that way," Aristide says, and it will be easier for her to leave quickly in case something goes wrong. He unbuckles his trousers, Catherine hums in response abandoning her attempt to undress herself and instead busies herself with watching him, she takes in his too perfect features, his long black curls which were pulled back with a thin white lace. His pale skin seems to glimmer in the light of the candles, he was heavenly-looking, almost god like. But every moment with him felt like a sin.

Once Aristide has kicked off his trousers, he crawls over her and listens to her heartbeat race. He settles himself between her legs and pushes her long skirt down to her waist to expose her thin and freckled legs. They're covered in bruises especially her thighs, and they're all from him, as gentle as he tries to be with her he always leaves evidence of his strength. He tugs off her undergarments, his calloused fingertips brushing against her inner most thighs as he does so.

She hisses at the harsh coolness but arches her hips towards him nevertheless, He smirks at her and says "Eager are we now, ma chérie?"

Catherine nods her head, whimpering. Playing it up because she just wanted to get this over with, she doesn't hate it and she quite enjoys their time together but she wishes he would be quicker. She just needed the money, Agatha is relying on her. If they got this done with quicker, she could probably get home in time to make some soup for Agatha and her parents. Aristide was the only good man she had ever been with, outside of her marriage, but this was never about good, this was about survival for not only herself but those she cared about. It was nothing more than that.

He chuckles, grabbing her legs and pulling her close. Their hips meet and Catherine shivers violently at the feeling of his freezing body pressed against her already cold one, Aristide hushes her, stroking her cheek in a gentle manner as he tells her to sit up. Catherine does as he asks, they're so close their bodies were practically one. Although she, herself, felt cold, to him she felt like a raging fire against his own cold, undead skin.

His finger traces her lips before pulling her into a bruising kiss, she hisses against his lips but the hiss turns into a pained moan as he thrusts into her. He's careful as he can be, she's a delicate flower compared to him and he could easily kill her this way. He pulls away from her, muttering "You're beautiful," against her bruised cheek. How he longs to taste her blood, her skin itself was surprisingly sweet and he's sure that her blood is even sweeter.

"Thank you, sir," She mumbles, bucking her hips into his. Quiet pants and moans escape her chapped, swollen lips. She grips her skirt tightly, her eyes screwed shut and Aristide watches her every expression with keen interest from the smallest twitch of her eyebrows to more noticeable action of her mouth falling open as louder moans fall from her lips. He's learned to let her do most of the moving because it results in less bruising, at first he didn't care but as their intimate encounters grew closer together, he had grown fond of her and her safety.

He gently moves his hands so they're entangled in her hair, he pulls on her matted locks slightly. Her strawberry-blonde hair appears almost golden in the glow of the candles. If she had the ability to take care of herself, she would have been breathtaking. Catherine, in Aristide's opinion was unique for a mortal. He could give her the power to be so much more than that, he had thought about it for an agonising amount of time. But, Aristide had never turned someone before, it was usually Aro who did that and Aristide had went alone this time around. 

Her heart pounds loudly, mocking him and his cowardice. He was afraid to turn her, he could kill her instead and for the first time in his immortal life, Aristide did not want to kill. He thought about bringing her to Volterra but he thought it unlikely that Aro would turn her, Catherine appeared to be lacking a gift, in other words, useless to Aro. But, she meant everything to Aristide. 

His name is whimpered, as he tugs a little harder on her hair, Catherine's hips press into his. Momentum is growing, a feeling akin to being alive grows inside him, Aristide moans lowly. He swallows the venom pooling his mouth and presses his lips to her shoulder, over and over and over, slowly moving up to her jawline.

After a few minutes, her moans get louder and her legs start to shake but Catherine does not cum. Typically the mortal doesn't last this long but Aristide had taken it slower tonight, mostly lost in his thoughts. But now, it was getting harder for him to ignore his bloodlust, he trusts into her hoping that it would be enough to push her over the edge but it's not. All he earns in a loud, pained moan and then she bites down on her lip hard and draws blood which is enough to send him spiraling over the edge. He inhales sharply as he does his best to restrain himself, he grips her skirt so tight that it tears. Aristide doesn't want to kill her, she's too precious, too good to be killed no matter how good her blood smells.

He pulls away from her, stumbling backwards and he hears her whine quietly as she sits up. She goes to ask for her pay but she falls short upon seeing the ravenous look on his face, her grin turns into an uneasy frown "Aristide, are you alright, have I done something wrong?" 

"Get out," He hisses, he wants nothing more to tear her apart, he wants to completely destroy her just for a drop of her precious blood, "Get out now!"

Catherine scrambles out of his bed, looking terrified out of her wits as apologies profusely fall from her lips, she tries to move closer to him but he throws the first thing he can grab — a pot — in her direction and he screams "GET OUT!"

For a moment, Aristide expects her to flee, he hopes that she will but Catherine surprises him and she stays. Stupid, foolish girl. 

Her eyes, blue as Aristide remembers the Mediterranean Sea to be, are wide with fear. Her bloodied lower lip is quivering but she stands motionless and determined. And although, Aristide would never raise a hand to her, he understands why the pastor raises his hand to her; she doesn't seem to obey what she's been told to do. 

"The money," Catherine says, trying and failing to keep her meek voice steady, "I did what you wanted me to do, if you're done I would like my pay." 

A thin line of blood trickle down her lip and onto her chin, his red eyes zero in on it. Catherine's words become lost to him, her pounding heart is all that Aristide can hear and he can no longer control himself. He lunges, she screams. 

He takes her out easily, his teeth tear into her jugular with ease, her scream becomes muffled by the blood filling her mouth, some of it splatters against Aristide's pale cheeks. It tastes much better than he ever imagined, Catherine was not the first Blood Singer he had encountered the many centuries he had been alive but she was by far his favourite. 

Her hand slams against his chest in a feeble attempt to fight him off but all she gains is a broken wrist. The snapping of her bones brings Aristide back to reality, he remembers that he doesn't want to kill her and with great difficulty he pulls himself away from her. Catherine screams meekly, her voice hoarse already, blood pools out of her mouth as she rolls onto her side and curls into herself. Her small frame trembles violently with every sound, the venom spreads through her veins like a forest fire, she has no idea what's happening.

Aristide watches with keen interest, he had seen Aro turn lots of people but it seems different now, a whole new experience for his old soul. Every tremble and every scream from her excites him. 

"Make it stop, make it stop, make it stop," Catherine screams over and over, she grits her teeth together after every word, eyes squeezing shut as she hugs herself around her middle, writhing violently on the wood floor, her words fade from harsh and hoarse screams to a soundless chant. 

Aristide reaches out, brushing her hair out of her face, she looks at him with complete and utter betrayal, she whispers a plea for him to put her out of her misery. He doesn't, his bright red eyes zero in on the bite he left on her neck. It was not as clean as Aro's and it would leave a nasty scar, Aristide thinks that it will look much better than the bruises of his fingerprints ever did on her. His bloodied lips pull into a satisfied smirk, she was his forever now. 

[fandomlit]

healing (sirius black x reader)

requested by anon “hey honey, could you do one sirius x reader with 40, 50 and 83 from ur prompt list? :)”

summary after sirius gets injured during an intense full moon, you have to help patch him up, and maybe patch up some other feelings on the way.

warning swearing, angst, blood and injury mentions, kinda long

o hey i do writing prompts,, those used in this fic will be in bold

gif cred belongs to @softtroublemaker​

“you’re okay, mate... you’re okay.”

remus was already fast asleep in his bed after an exhausting full moon, but the other three marauders were wide awake. sirius was propped against the chest at the end of his bed, one hand on top of james’s, applying pressure to the gushing wound on his stomach. his eyes were squeezed shut and teeth gritted, wondering where the hell peter had gone.

"where the fuck is peter?!” he gritted out, sucking in a sharp breath directly after the words left his mouth.

“he’s getting y/n,” james said quickly and dismissively.

“what?!” sirius demanded, head shooting up from where it was rested.

“listen!” james exclaimed. “i know what happened the other day, but she’s the only one who knows her way around medicinal shit, okay?” sirius just squeezed his eyes shut and let his head loll back again.

“i can’t.”

“what do you mean you can’t?” sirius scoffed as you crossed your arms definitely. he shook his head as you closed your eyes. “you and that hufflepuff kid broke up three months ago. you’re seriously telling me you feel nothing? that you broke up with him for fun?”

“that’s not what im saying and you know it.”

“then what is it?” sirius demanded, letting out another scoff as he stepped toward you.

“you have a reputation, sirus,” you started slowly, opening your eyes to watch him throw his head back with an indignant huff. “and i don’t feel like im ready-”

“here we go again.”

you blinked, jaw dropping. “sirius-”

he threw his arms out in frustration. “how much longer do i have to-to drop hints and flirt with you and compliment you for you to realize how in love with you i am? for you to realize that i’ve never felt this way about anyone before, and i want to chase this feeling to the ends of the earth, and i’ve been waiting for you to realize how much of an idiot that kid was since the day he asked you out?!”

you closed your eyes again, letting the words hang in the air. you bit back tears, giving yourself a minute for your throat to stop closing your words in. you just shook your head. “i can’t.” when you opened your eyes, he was gone. you wiped away your tears and left, too.

“i came as soon as i heard.”

your voice brought a tinge of pain to his heart. he wanted to believe it was just from his wound.

“holy shit you’re bleeding,” you breathed as james pulled away from sirius, hand covered in blood. the elder potter didn’t seem to mind, nodding to peter who had trailed in behind you.

“can you help?” james asked, shaking his head desperately.

“get him on the bed,” you directed with a short nod. peter and james got to work, lifting sirius up and onto his bed as the taller boy grimaced.

“im sorry, im so sorry,” peter muttered like a mantra until sirius was finally laying back against the bed. the boys stepped back and you stepped forward, placing your first aid kit on the chest sirius had been propped against.

“what happened?” you asked.

“well-”

“not you,” you said over your shoulder. james nodded.

“yes, doctor l/n.”

you looked up to sirius, who was looking at you through tired, lidded eyes. you avoided his eyes, clearing your throat. “what happened, sirius?”

“james can tell you,” he grunted as you moved around, supplies in hand, to him.

“i need you to tell me,” you clarified as you set the supplies next to him. “i need you to stay conscious.”

sirius took a shaky breath, his eyes looking over to his concerned friends at the end of the bed before closing them again. “remus wasn’t calming down.” he felt your fingers lift his shirt off of his stomach. in any other situation, he’d be delighted. “i had to stop him from running out of the shack, and he scratched me. stayed in the shack, though.”

“okay,” you breathed, looking over the gashed skin. “it’s pretty deep.” you reached a hand up to wipe some hair off of his sweaty forehead. he clenched his jaw. “do you think you can handle stitches?”

he let out a short laugh. “will it leave a cool scar?”

you smiled at him, your fingers brushing his temple. “very cool.” 

“then do it.”

you turned to james and peter. “put a silencing charm on the door.” they nodded and you turned back to sirius. “i’ll talk you through it, okay?” he nodded. “i need you to say okay.”

“okay,” he grunted.

“i need you to talk back to me, okay?” you picked up a few disinfecting pads. “i need you to stay conscious. you can kick and scream and yell and grip peter’s hand if you need to.” you motioned over peter, who immediately took his place opposite of you, taking sirius’s hand with little confidence. he suppressed a yelp when sirius immediately squeezed his hand. “okay?”

“okay,” he affirmed.

“im gonna wipe up some blood and clean the wound,” you started. “it’s going to sting and burn, but it’ll show me where im working, okay?”

“okay.”

you took a slow breath before lightly brushing the wipe at the end of the gash. he immediately sucked in harshly, and you saw peter hunch over a bit from the death grip he was enduring. you gave him a look of pity as you continued to clean up sirius’s now completely tensed abdomen.

“you’re okay,” you assured, placing your free hand on his shoulder. his other hand whipped up to rest on yours, fingers closing around yours. you gulped. “you’re doing great.”

“im doing great,” he repeated.

“yeah,” you breathed. “yeah, you are.” after cleaning up around the wound, you patted his shoulder and slipped your hand away from his. “now im going to put some numbing cream on, okay?”

you talked him through it all. from the burning cream, to the tingles the cream incited, and all through stitching him up. you distracted him by having him to tell you about some prank he had been planning with james, and he was still talking about it by the time you had tied off the sutures and applied more disinfectant.

“you’re done,” you said softly. he opened his eyes lazily. he met your soft eyes first before looking down to his stomach. he attempted to sit himself up to get a better look at the stitching, but winced. you pressed a hand to his chest, pushing him gently back down. “stay down. you can check it out in the morning, after it’s had time to set.”

he nodded. “sure.” he finally let go of peter’s hand.

his eyes met yours again, and your gaze lingered before you grabbed your roll of bandages. “lift his back up for me, boys.” james came over and they did as told, and you wrapped the bandage around sirius’s abdomen and over the stitches. you pressed your fingers to the wound after you had clipped the bandage down. “i’ll change this in the morning, okay?”

“how long do we have to wait?” sirius asked, voice low. you turned to him in surprise. you met his dark eyes again and took a breath. peter and james nodded to each other and scurried out of the room. he shook his head when he heard the door close behind them. “you broke up with him three months ago. i hate waiting.”

you bit your quivering lip and placed a hand on his cheek. “i know.” you nodded and sniffed. “i know.”

he shook his head, “so why are we waiting?” you paused, brushing more hair out of his face. “im not going to hurt you. that’s the last thing i’d ever do.”

“i know,” you repeated, your voice barely above a whisper.

“so what are we doing?” he said, letting out a short, humorless laugh. “why won’t you let me show you how much you mean to me? how i’ve changed?”

you shook your head, pursing your lips as tears streamed down your cheeks. “stop.” he shut his mouth. “just...” before sirius could even blink, you leaned down and pressed a hard kiss to his lips.

his still bloodied hands immediately shot up to tangle in your hair, drawing you as close to him as possible as his exhausted lips tried to keep up with your sudden burst of passion. when you finally pulled away, the breath he had just collected was gone.

you leaned away and wiped your eyes. you looked down at him to see his gray eyes already boring into yours, waiting for you to say something.

“i did break up with him for you,” you said gently, reaching to lock your fingers with his. “i just... didn’t know if it was the right decision.”

“it was,” he said, trying to sit up again. he grimace as he propped himself up with his free hand. you watched him carefully before he met your eyes again. “it was. he was stupid. merlin, he was stupid.”

you let out a laugh, dropping your gaze to your locked hands. “and you?”

“smart as a whip.”

“sirius,” you chuckled, looking back up to him. “how do i know that you’re not going to do the same thing? that you won’t decide there’re prettier girls and-and sneak around me?”

“because there aren’t prettier girls,” he said quickly, shaking his head. you sniffed, giving him a flattered smile. “there aren’t, i swear it.” 

you sighed, looking down again. “okay.”

“okay?”

“okay,” you repeated with a laugh, squeezing his hand. 

“what does okay mean?” he asked, shaking his head with a smile.

you let out another laugh. “it means im gonna let myself love you, too.”

he grinned before pulling you into another passionate kiss. it didn’t last long enough for his liking, however, due to an unfortunate interruption.

the door creaked open and you both turned to see james peek his head in and out. “oh- peter, back down, they’re still going!”

[cialbi]

Boy with Hope: Lavender - Chapter Four

Summary: Severely depressed and addicted to alcohol, you had given up entirely on life. Your passion was gone, your friends had left you and you found yourself completely alone. As you closed your eyes for the last time, the smell of lavender wafted through your nose and a boy with purple wings appeared above you.

Genre: Angst, Romance, Fantasy

Pairings: Angel Hoseok x Reader

Warnings: Language, Depression, Alcoholism

⤎Previous

━━━━━━━━━▼━━━━━━━━━

The smell of citrus had you blinking your eyes open. It was a familiar smell, comforting. A scent you hadn’t smelled in a long time.

As your vision adjusted and your foggy head cleared, you noticed a display of stick-on stars plastered to the ceiling, glowing faintly against the autumn colored sunlight. You’d put them on almost every inch of your childhood bedroom when you were ten. Living in the city, stars were a rare sight, so you had concluded that this way, every night would be a starry one.

You sat up, knees hugged to your chest. A Disney princess blanket was draped over your lower half and ruffled pink pillows supported you comfortably as you leaned back against the headboard of your childhood bed. Looking around made you feel nostalgic, happy even. Seeing the array of stuffed animals that surrounded you and the zoetrope on your white wooden nightstand left a warm feeling in your gut. But something poked at your brain, telling you something was not right.

‘How did I get here?’ You wondered, though the thought felt distant, unimportant.

Before you could dwell on it, there was a knock at your door. “Y/N, can I come in?” That voice. You knew that voice.

“Yes, come in.” You said, almost automatically.

The door creaked open and the curly brown head of your mom poked in from behind. “Hi there sleepyhead, how are you feeling? I brought you some dinner.”

How were you feeling? “Um.. fine, I think?”

Your mom gave a soft laugh, entering your room with a tray of her special spaghetti and a tall glass of water. She placed the delicious smelling food on your nightstand before taking a seat beside you on the bed and reaching to place a hand on your forehead.

“Hmm… you’re still a little warm.” She confirmed. “Are you sure you’re feeling alright?”

Scrunching your brow, you tried to think about how you’re feeling, but all that comes up is a groggy mush and that irking in your tummy. An irking that this is an unusual situation and you’re not supposed to be here.

“Well…” You started. “I don’t feel sick.”

She smiled, her pale pink lipstick looking like a flower petal. “That’s good to hear. You really had us worried.”

Looking at your mom was surreal. It had been so long since you’d seen her face; her beautiful, soothing face that always put your mind at ease. On many occasions she’d been your support, held your hair back as you vomited from the overindulgence of alcohol. She’d scraped you off the steps of your house and helped you bathe away the sweat and barf in your hair. She had held you close as you cried from the pain of intoxication, and nursed you the next day with lots of water, alka seltzer and tums. She’d done so much for you, and in return all you did was fall deeper into the hole you were digging. And as you looked at every line of her face and her softly applied makeup, you couldn’t help but pull her into a hug.

“What’s this?” She giggled, hugging you back.

“Im sorry, mom.” You murmured, your voice muffled by her wool sweater.

“Oh, honey.” Ever so softly, she began to rub your back, something she did whenever you were distressed. It was soothing, familiar, and full of love. You couldn’t help but cry.

“I’m so sorry.” You blubbered, burying your face further into her shoulder.

“You should be.” The tone of her voice suddenly changed.

You blinked. ‘What?’  

That irking feeling began to scream as your mom’s grip tightened. The digging of her nails burned your flesh and had you yelp in pain.

“Mom what are you doing? Stop!” Wriggling, you tried to break free but she was too strong. When did she get that strong?

She laughed. Not the kind hearted laugh like before, but a morbid laugh that sent a chill down your spine. Nuzzling your neck, her lips ghosted your ear. “You’re a disappointment.”

Your eyes widened, tears spilling down your cheeks at the comment. Your mom had always expressed her concerns for you, her doubts and sadnesses, but she had never said anything so cruel before.

There was a tiny tickle on your cheek. With surprise, you used all your strength to pull yourself away from her chest only to see the woman you loved most crawling with cockroaches. Screaming, you scooched back against the wall and away from her. ‘Not this again. Please, not this again.’

Your mom didn’t move, sitting there with a deep frown on her lips. “How were we so unlucky to have a daughter like you?” She scowled.

Whimpering, you cried “Mom! I’m sorry!”

“You’re sorry? You’re always sorry, but you never change. You can never change!” She grabbed your shoulders, fingernails piercing your flesh. You shriek in agony. There was a chirping noise as the cockroaches began to flood the room and creep their way up onto your bed. You bit your lip, sobs leaking out of your mouth. Shaking you, your mom growled. “You’ll never change! You’ll never change!”

“I’m sorry… I’m sorry… I’m sorry…” You repeated.

The chirping noise grew louder as the roaches overtook your arms, little legs writhing like snakes against your skin. You screamed again, trying to free yourself from her death grip but failing miserably. As you struggled, your mom relinquished one hand, only  to grab your forehead in another strong hold. You gasped as she began to smash your head against the wall.

“Die!” She raged.

“Stop!” You cried. Your scalp became wet as  blood trickled down your neck. “Please stop mom!”

“Die already!” Her eyes flashed red, her flower petal lips pulled back in a horrifying snarl. “Just die! Just die!”

Just.

DIE!

Your eyes shot open, the sight of your ceiling fan welcomed you with gentle blows of cool air. ‘Ugh. Just a dream.’ You groaned aloud and flopped your arms across your face in exhaustion.

“So, Sleeping Beauty finally wakes.”

You sat up abruptly to see the black-haired man from the hallway sitting in your desk chair with his legs apart and hands folded neatly in his lap. There’s a clear smirk on his striking face as he eyed you in amusement.

“You… what the fuck are you--” The throbbing in your head cut you off. You put a hand to your forehead and breathed deeply, sweat soaking through your shirt.

“I take it you didn’t sleep well?” He quipped, the look on his face made you want to smack him.

Ignoring him, you rubbed your temples and swallowed thickly. Your mouth was dry and there was an irrevocable thirst that itched in your throat.“Wh-um--what the hell happened?”

He adjusted himself, leaning back against the chair and crossed his arms over his chest before extending a ringed finger to point at your bedside table. “Water’s over there.”

You looked to where he pointed, and sure enough there was a tall glass of water and two tablets of Advil just beckoning for you to claim them. Your muscles groaned as you reached for them, swallowing the tablets first and then finishing it off with desperate gulps of water. When you finished, you placed the empty glass back on the table and wiped at your lips.

The dark-haired man raised an eyebrow at your eagerness. “Better?”

You coughed, choking a little on some spit. “Um.. yeah. Thanks.”

His pretty lips tugged into a sneer, a suitable expression for his intimidating appearance. “Don’t thank me.”

An awkward silence flew between you two. You looked at your hands and pinched at your wrist, not daring to meet the scary angel-man’s boring stare. At least you assumed he was an angel too, since he seemed to be Hoseok’s friend. And he had one of those silver crosses. But you would not at all be surprised if he turned out to be the devil's incarnate.

“So.” His voice broke the silence, startling you to look up at him. His chin was angled so that his lashes cascaded a shadow down his cheekbone, making him look even more beautiful and even more frightening. “What do you remember?”

You took a moment to collect your thoughts. Your head was fuzzy, but you could faintly remember running barefoot like a maniac all the way to Martin’s Liquor. “Did I…?

“Drink?” He snorted, leaning forward to rest his chin on top of his folded hands. “No. But you did cause one hell of a shitstorm princess.”

You furrowed your brows quizzically. “What do you mean?”

The dark-haired man cracked a smile. Not a cheerful, warm and fuzzy smile like Hoseoks. The kind that makes you feel like the whole world is in on a joke about you. “Went absolutely bananas. Destroyed half a liquor store. Almost killed a guy. Any of that ring a bell?”

Your eyes widened and before you knew what you were saying, the words started to tumble out. “That wasn’t my fault! I was being attacked. They were everywhere, those… those…” You gasped, finally remembering everything. “Cockroaches.” Shifting your position, you were now completely facing him, eyes almost pleading. “You have to believe me. They were there. It wasn’t a hallucination, I swear.”

“Oh I believe you, sweetheart.” He licked his lips, eyes rolling to look at the ceiling in a bored sort of interest.

“You.. you do?” You leaned forward eagerly.

The angel brought his head back down to level with yours. His expression was unreadable. “I believe you thought they were there.”

Your jaw clenched. “So you think I’m crazy.”

“I don’t think you’re sane.” He said matter of factly.

On top of being terrifying, this guy was a colossal jerk. Tears started to well in your eyes. You felt frustrated. You knew what you saw. But none of the other store clerks had seen it. Could you really be crazy? After everything you put yourself through, have you officially snapped? You were obviously seeing things that no one else could see. You trashed a store and, like the angel said, nearly killed a guy. The friendly, freckled face of the store clerk, soaked in blood flashed through your mind. A deep pang of guilt stabbed through your heart.

“That guy… is he ok?” The shame made you stare at the floor as you begged the question.

The dark-haired man sighed. “He’s fine. Hoseok took care of everything.” The dubious look you shot him made him sigh again. “With magic. He took away their memory and healed that guy you shoved. You don’t have to worry about a lawsuit anymore. All they’ll think is that the store was trashed by a crazy robber, or something like that.”

“Oh…” Was all you could say in response.

“That’s it?” He raised a brow. “No questions?”

You shook your head.

You should be asking more questions. This whole thing was utterly perplexing. Magic? Erasing memories? You knew about the healing, but it still caught you off guard. You should be freaking out, or running out the door again. But you had no energy left and you felt like you were going crazy. So you slumped back against the wall and allowed more tears to fall.

“Oh god. I’m completely insane.” You whimpered, lip quivering.

The dark-haired man fished out a pack of cigarettes followed by a silver lighter. He stuck the cancer stick between his lips and lit it, taking a long drag and exhaling deeply. “Yeah. Maybe.”

“Ok that’s enough.” A stern voice called.

Hoseok appeared from behind your kitchen door. He was holding a plate of steaming food and a glass of orange juice. His eyes were fixed with a warning stare which he directed towards his stoic friend. With a tut, he made his way over to your bedside and placed the food in your lap and the OJ in your hands. You sniffed, wiping away the tear stains and taking a little sip.

“Yoongi-hyung.” His voice softened but remained firm. “You can’t say things like that to her.” He turned his attention back to you. “Don’t mind him, love. He’s an incurable asshole.” You heard a grunt of disapproval. “Here, eat something. You must be starving.”

It felt like a millennia since you last ate, but as you looked down at the nicely prepared pancakes, you couldn’t find it in yourself to eat. Instead, you avert your eyes to the two men who are now seated side by side, with Hoseok seated criss-crossed on the floor and Yoongi still comfortably reclined in your desk chair.

They both stared at you in intense silence, as if you’d explode if one of them dared to move. You looked once more at the food, then back at them. A new found frustration boiled in your veins. How in the hell did they expect you to eat now? The entire situation was bananas, you felt bananas. And despite your exhaustion, you now had questions and a burning desire for some sort of emotional release.

“I’m sorry.” You started. Biting back the hostility in your voice, you slid the food off your lap and placed the OJ on your nightstand. “You have to forgive me. It’s been--well it’s been quite the day. First, some strange man breaks into my apartment, claiming to be an angell and heals me with his bare hands. And then, would you know it, sprouts enormous purple wings. Ok yeah, that’s weird. But then his moody, outcast-wannabe friend appears out of nowhere, tries to grab me--”

“Moody outcast? Is that me?”

“Yeah, yeah. I’m the strange man with purple wings.”

“--and basically calls me crazy.” You continued, throwing them a ‘shut-up and don’t interrupt me' glare. “I see hundreds--no thousands--of disgusting mother-fucking cockroaches trying to flipping eat me, but no one else seems to see that. Instead I’m just this batshit-bonker balls lady who almost killed a guy and probably backrupted an entire store. Than this brooding asshole--”

“Yoongi.”

“--I don’t care. Tells me you--” You throw your arms up at Hoseok. “--apparently erased their memories, and used your magic-hands to heal that poor guy, which still sounds ridiculous. So please. Forgive me for asking. But just what in God’s fucking name is going on here and should I check myself for a psych-eval now or just wait until I actually kill someone. Because honestly, I still have no fucking idea if this is all in my head, or am I really--am I really standing here, venting my life problems to two of the lords chosen ones who have been the entire center of this loony-tunes day.” You take a deep breath, regaining all the lost oxygen you have just spent on your tirade, and turn to face the dumbfounded expressions of angel-dee and angel-dumb. “So now, I’m going to be quiet, and hope that for heaven’s sake, one of you will explain.”

“Uh…” Yoongi was the first to speak up. Not breaking eye contact with you, the dark-haired angel slapped a hand across Hoseok’s shoulder. “Wow man. Good luck with this one.”

Hoseok blinked in disbelief, like he doesn’t know where to begin. “Uhm… demons.”

Now it’s your turn to blink in disbelief. “Guzuntight?”

Blinking a few more times, Hoseok seemed to regain his composure. “Yes. Those were demons.”

“I’m sorry, demons? I thought you guys were angels.” You narrowed your eyes at Yoongi. “Except maybe this one.”

Yoongi returned your glare with sparks flying between you two. “He means the cockroaches.” He explained, sliding back into his collected demeanor.

“Wait.” You wiggled a finger next to your head as if the motion could somehow translate english to english. “The cockroaches… are… demons? Demons?”

Hoseok cleared his throat, preparing for a long explanation. “Yes. Well… sort of.” The ‘I-do-not-follow’ look on your face urged him to continue. “Let me put it this way.” He stood and held out a hand, palm facing up. A single glowing orb generated from his hand and hovered inches in the air. You gasped, because despite everything you’d seen today, you were still not used to this who magic-thing. “Every human has a soul. Bright, hopeful, full of light.” He said. “But when that soul is shrouded in darkness, it invites demons to come and manipulate that soul until there is no light left.” As he said this, the orb’s glow gradually dimmed until it was completely gone.”Our job as angels is to protect these particular souls and help them to find their light again, so that it doesn't disappear and leave the human empty.”  

You nod. This all sounds completely bonker-balls, and you’re not entirely following, but you decide to probe further. “So… those cockroaches were demons… coming after my… my soul?”

Hoseok grinned, squinty eyes twinkling as you were finally putting it together. “Yes!”

Demons coming after your soul. Not the most illogical thing you’ve heard today. “Ok, but wait. Why haven’t I seen them before?”

There was a pause. Hoseok’s eye-smile dropping, lips dipping into a said frown. “You tried to kill yourself.”  At the same time, all three of you lowered your gazes to the floor. Another moment of silence passed before Hoseok continued. “That’s when the soul is almost completely consumed by the darkness.”

You bit your lip. “So then I’m…”

“No! Don’t worry. Before I could let that happen to you, I brought you back.” The orange-haired angel assured you. “It’s just now… everytime you reach out for that darkness… it’s like a perfume for demons. They’re attracted to that scent of humans giving into their… well… personal demons. They take on your worst fear and use that fear to devour you. Your soul is still so sunk in black that even the slightest relapse will send them on your tail.”

You sighed, rubbing your temples. “Could you say that in a way I can understand?”

“You drink, you’re demon food.” Yoongi chimed in.

Hoseok’s eyes rolled to the ceiling as he breathed through his nose. “As a manner of speaking.”

You laughed bitterly. “Great.” The one thing your body desperately wants and you couldn’t have it. Because if you do, your soul turns completely black and demons get to eat your innards like spaghetti.

“Think of it like a cockblock. Don’t drink and the demons won’t bother you. Simple.” Yoongi affirmed, giving you a solid thumbs up which made you groan. Hoseok was right. Incurable asshole.

“Well no. It’s not that simple.” Hoseok smacked his friend’s leg. “We need to find a way to bring back that light in your life. And until then, I’m here to stay.

You frowned. You almost thought it was better when he was just a psycho on the loose. Because having a legitimate messenger of God all up in your business was way too much pressure. And to be frank, kind of scary. “And for how long?”

Hoseok scuttled over to take a seat next to you. “See this?” He tugged at the cross around his neck and presented it to your line of vision. He tapped softly next to an onyx jewel embedded in the middle. His gorgeous face beamed with excitement. “This is your soul… well a representation of it. When this completely turns white, then I’ve completed my mission and I’m out of your hair. I swear.”

Looking over to Yoongi, you eyed his necklace which also had an onyx jewel in the center of his cross. The dark-haired angel followed your gaze and looked down too. Then suddenly he stood up.

“And with that, I’m outta here.” He said plainly. “Got my own business to attend to.”

“Still haven't found her, hyung?” Hoseok asked his friend.

Yoongi sighed, a ghost of a sad smile on his lips, which surprised you to see any sort of emotion from him. “She’s a tough one to find.”

Before you could ask what they’re talking about, Yoongi made his way to your window, opening the latch and raising the pane all the way up. He perched like a hawk about to take off, the glowing autumn light casting a lovely glow against his porcelain skin.

“Hey!” You yelled, jumping to your feet but not daring to move.

“Don’t worry princess. They may not be purple, but they’re just as big and just as strong.” He said, sending you a little wink.

Your mouth opened and closed, wondering what he meant until two huge black wings burst from his back. They beat a couple of times to adjust themselves, sending a soft current of wind against your face.

“Oh my God.” You whispered, just loud enough for him to hear.

Yoongi chuckled melodically, a beautiful sound you never thought his snarky lips could make. “Not quite.”

“Let me know when you find her, hyung!” Hoseok shouted after the dark-haired man as he leapt from the window and disappeared from sight.

Your head began to spin as yet another unbelievable thing just happened today. As you sat back down on your bed, you turned to look at Hoseok, trying to find any words. But all that could come out was, “Can’t you guys just use the friggin’ door?”

━━━━━━━━━▼━━━━━━━━━

A/N 

Again, pretty much unedited. Will go back later to edit. Hope you enjoyed this chapter! 

Cial

[blackbutler-readerinsertsandjunk]

I can't stop thinking about your madame red au and the headcannons you wrote last. Can I ask for Joker and reader where she helps him during the dance and all and defends him behind his back when some ladies are shocked because ,,how dare a woman lead a man?!". And maybe Madame Red notices the reader and her behaviour towards Joker and the others and already ships them? Sorry it's so long. Headcannons or scenarios are fine. 😅😁

PLEASE DON’T BE SORRY, THIS IS ALL I EVER WANT IN LIFE AND I OWE U FOR REQUESTING IT

it got so hecking long omg I never plan for things to get this long but when I like something a lot it just kind of happens!!!

The fact that your new companion is missing an arm seems to bother you far less than it does him, at least in the context of trying to figure out how to position yourselves to dance.

“I just, ah ― oof, Lord ― I-I dunno if this is gonna work.” His face is about as red as his hair by now, and he just draws himself away from you. “I’m… I’m sorry. This pro’ly ain’t such a good idea, beauty. Why, uh, why don’t ye go dance wit’ someone else?”

Able to feel other people’s eyes on you both, you shamelessly step back toward him. “Because I want to dance with you. It’s not really that big a deal, is it? There has to be a way.”

He offers you a timid smile. “Be m’ guest, m’ lady.”

The sound of several other girls tittering behind their fans as they watch the man flounder is all the determination you need.

“So I shall!” You return his smile before analyzing the situation. After a moment, you make a move: you wrap your arm around his waist and draw him flush against you. This might be a good start… “Hm, this may work. If I keep my arm here, then I can support you. That way, we can hold hands and you don’t have to worry about losing your grip or anything, because I’ll be holding you.”

Another round of blush blooms over his cheeks. “T-this ain’t exac’ly proper, though, is it? I mean… Mum said th’ man’s s’posed ta be th’ one wit’ ‘is arm round the lady’s waist. Heh, treatin’ me like a lady, are ye? Makin’ a joke like ev’ryone else?”

You can’t help but to burst out laughing, though you take care not to be too loud. The two of you have enough attention on you already, and you get the sense that it’s not the good kind, so you don’t want to attract more. “What?? I wouldn’t make a joke of you. It’s just that we have to do things a bit differently, and we have to do whatever works. It doesn’t mean I’m treating you like a lady. If this is what works, then that should be the proper thing, shouldn’t it?”

“… Well…” His good arm scratches at the side of his cheek as he seems to think that over. It makes a lot of sense, as far as you’re concerned. The very definition of proper is that something is correct. If the way you normally dance doesn’t work when dancing with him, then clearly it isn’t proper. “I, ah, guess I never thought ‘f it that way b’fore. Good way ta put it. This is… alrigh’, then? Dancin’ like this? Ye don’t mind it?”

“Of course not. It’ll be kind of exciting to do things differently.” With your free hand, you take his, weaving your fingers into the spaces between his and noting how it just feels right. “I think this is song is meant to be waltzed to, so… one, two, three?” you tease.

When he chuckles, it’s a sound like golden honey. He has such a lovely voice, and a bright laugh to match even as he’s keeping it soft. “One, two, three, it is, m’ beauty.”

So the two of you start to move. As you lead him around the dance floor, you focus on him rather than all the people who are staring at you. “By the way, I don’t think we introduced ourselves. I’m (Name). And your name?”

“Ah, it’s JOKER,” he hums. “Mum told me she’d never heard ‘f anyone wit’ tha’name, but I picked it m’self a while ago. Never ‘ad any other one.”

“Huh… Lady Durless-Barnett isn’t your mother by blood, right?”

“Aye, tha’s right. She found us all an’ took us in.”

“So, what about the woman who gave birth to you? She didn’t give you any kind of name?”

He averts his eyes down toward your feet with a halfhearted shrug. “She didn’t. Rather not talk ‘bout any o’ that, ‘f ye don’t mind.”

You frown, but recover quickly. “Oh… no, that’s fine. I understand. Then ― all the others that Lady Durless-Barnett took in along with you. You were all basically a family before she found you? You’re all brothers and sisters?”

“Mhm. Tha’s ‘ow we’ve always thought o’ each other.”

“That’s so sweet.” You glance around the room for a minute, spotting some of them, and you can’t help the smile that settles on your lips. “What are their names? What are they like?”

His own smile is back at those questions. “Well… th’ two over sittin’ in th’ chairs, that’s Mally an’ Dagger. They’re each missin’ a leg. Both a bit ‘otheaded, if ye ask me, but that jus’ means they’re also passionate an’ determined. Go ta th’ ends o’ the Earth f’r ye if they think ye deserve it.”

“What about the tall fellow standing by the punch?”

Joker laughs and this time a little snort makes its way out. “Aw, that’s Jumbo. Ye can tell righ’ off what’s goin’ on with ‘im, can’t ye? I knoo he looks scary, but ‘e’s got the biggest ‘eart I ever seen. More afraid o’ ye than ye are o’ him, I’d wager. That suit don’t fit ‘im right; Mum did ‘er best.”

“And the girl next to him by the refreshment table ― the one with cake all over her dress?”

“Ah, God! She’s got it all dirty already, does she?” That grin of his is… really something. “Tha’s Freckles. We call ‘er Doll sometimes, too. Ye knoo, she’s pro’ly the brightest outta all o’ us, ‘r at least brighter’n I am. She’s pretty much th’ heart o’ our li’l group, always got a smile f’r us all.”

“I think the last two are… running around flirting? They seem to be half everyone else’s height?”

It’s obvious that the image is hilarious to him. “Oh, Peter an’ Wendy. Those two only grew ta a certain ‘eight, an’ they’re ‘bout as inseparable as anythin’. Peter can be a bitter pill ta swallow, rough round the edges… come ta think ‘f it, so can Wendy, she’s jus’ quieter. Once ye get ta know ‘em, though, ye see they ain’t bad at all.”

You give one more look at all of them, then return your gaze to Joker’s face. “… So, how about you?”

He blinks a few times, looking surprised. “Me?”

“Yes, you,” you giggle. “Now that I know that everyone else is passionate, nice,energetic, loyal… what are you? How would you describe yourself the way you just described your family?”

“Oh… er…” And he’s blushing again. Precious. “I… dunno, really.”

A hum vibrates up from your throat. “I suppose I’ll just have to find out for myself, then. As it stands, this is one of the most pleasant dances I’ve ever had with someone, so I would use charming as a starting point.”

He raises an eyebrow. “Ye think?”

“I’ve done this a few times, you know.” You lead him in the next step, twirling around with him in your arms. “So far, you’re probably the best dance partner I’ve had. You’re very sweet.”

“Awh, ye’re havin’ a go at me. Don’t make me blush, beauty.”

As the song transitions into a new one, you lean over and give a very light kiss to his cheek. “Oh, don’t limit me like that. You’re very handsome when you blush.”

You loosen your arm so that he can move away if he doesn’t want to dance for another song. “So,” you say, “would you like to go for another song?”

He shifts himself out of your arms. “Actually, sure. But first, would it… maybe be alrigh’ if I brought Mally an’ Dagger over? They both been poutin’ over not bein’ able ta dance, an’, well, if ye can find a good way ta ‘elp me dance, I bet ye could f’r them too. Sure make ‘em real happy, if ye’re up f’r that.”

“Oh… of course! I’m nothing if not up for a challenge.” You step back and give him a curtsy. “Hurry back!”

-

“Joker, darling, did I just see you were dancing with (Name) (Surname)? Goodness, and you didn’t think you’d be confident enough to ask anyone to dance, yet you asked the most beautiful, eligible woman in the room!”

Joker shoots a nervous grin at his mother, who’s currently fanning herself as she surveys her party. “Actually, she… she was th’ one who asked me.”

“What?” Anne’s eyes get even wider, sparkling devilishly. “Oh, my!! That can only mean one thing. She’s interested in you.”

“Her? Oh, Mum, she’s lovely, she really is, but… I-I dunno.” Just thinking about you makes his heart skip a beat. He’s very much interested in you, but the two of you did just meet, and he’s… missing pieces. “She couldn’t be int’rested in me.”

Anne pauses in the motion to point her fan toward the dance floor. “Then why is she doing that?”

When Joker turns his head where his mother is pointing, he not only sees what you’re doing, he hears it too. Currently, you’re positioned as if in a stand-off with one of the other attendees.

“― And you don’t know anything about him! You want to insult someone, pick on someone your own size and come at me. Go on! If you want me to tell my father to cut off business with yours, I dare you to say something. A woman leading a man in a waltz isn’t that strange! Well? Suddenly you don’t have anything to say? Just turn around like the coward you are, and if I hear you so much as breathe another word about him, you will be sorry.”

Joker’s attention isn’t even on the fact that the other lady turns bright red before flouncing off with her friends. He doesn’t care about her reaction; he cares about what you’re saying and doing. What…?

It would appear you’re defending him from someone who tried to make rude remarks about him. Why? Isn’t that the kind of thing that could ruin your standing if you get too heated about it? Why would you risk that just because someone made a cruel comment about someone you barely know? Why would you threaten such a big thing as changing your father’s business partners for him, who’s basically a stranger to you?

Anne’s giggling as she nudges Joker with one elbow. “Keeping that in mind, we should start thinking about whether you’d like a June wedding or a December wedding.”

“Mum!!” he snorts, though his face is all aglow with a soft pink. “That’s not… I’m not… she’s…”

“She likes you. Which, of course, proves that she has excellent taste.” Anne runs an affectionate hand through her son’s hair. “Why don’t you set up a date with her, sweetheart?”

Joker’s gaze returns to you, still standing in the middle of the dance floor, arms crossed, silently daring anyone to say anything mean about him or any of the others, while he remembers how kindly you treated him.

“… I just might do that, Mum. Just might.”

[onlysmagic]

🌌  ———  MEET CORDELIA .

hey hey hey! it's me, honey, back again. i've miss everyone so very much. how have you all been? good, i hope. for the time being, i'll be playing sweet cordy again ( nothing new  . . . nothing's changed . . . still the same old cordy! ) but noah could be coming back soon ~* and maybe some new muses *~ ooOOoOOh. as always, hit the heart for a new old friend and i'll im you to get the party started!

cordy’s stats 🌌 cordy’s wanted connections 🌌 cordy’s pinboard

thanks again for an incredibly warm welcome back! i've missed you all terribly!

🌌 —  THE STATS .

FULL   NAME *    . CORDELIA AMI WANTANABE . NICKNAMES *    CODY   ,   DELIA   ,   CORDY . AGE *    TWENTY-FOUR . DATE   OF   BIRTH *    APRIL   3RD   1996 . STAR   SIGN *    ARIES . HOME   TOWN *    NARA   ,   KANSAI   ,   JAPAN . GENDER *    CIS FEMALE . SEXUALITY *    (   CLOSETED   )   BISEXUAL . NATIONALITY *    JAPANESE . ETHNICITY *    ASIAN . FAMILY *    WANTANABE   TSUYOSHI   (   FATHER   ,   MAINTENANCE   WORKER   -   JAPANESE   )   &   WANTANABE   AMI   -   FORMERLY   ITO   (   MOTHER   ,   FLORIST   -   JAPANESE-CANADIAN   ) . OCCUPATION *   UNEMPLOYED . PLAYLIST *   COMING   SOON .  QUIRK *    STELLARKINESIS   ,   OR   THE   ABILITY   TO   CREATE   AND / OR   MANIPULATE   STARS   AND   USE   THEIR   STELLAR   ENERGY  . 

🌌 —  THE STORY.

           ONCE UPON A TIME , IN A FAR-AWAY LAND known as nara , an ordinary girl is born to two parents who love her ( but cannot seem to love themselves. ) they name her cordelia and, from a young age, there was always something a little . . . off about their sweet girl. now, many parents would claim that their child glows & a light seems to follow them wherever they wander, but the wantanabes would be right.

           it isn’t until the young girl turns 10 that she realizes that no, not everyone can bend space and time to their own whim. not everyone sees the universe as a malleable thing, able to be crafted in one’s own image should they wish. in fact, she is the only one she knows who can do anything of the sort. okay, her dad has superhuman-like strength ( in that he can help her open bottles and things of that sort ) and her mother is incredibly quick-witted, but neither of them can conjure hot balls of gas and light whenever they wish. cordelia can. it’s her mother’s idea to keep it a secret, out of fear that someone could find the young girl and exile her for being so . . . different. delia doesn’t see the harm in it. what’s the worst that can happen? at that age, all she tended to do was bring a bit of starlight to the light-polluted nara and its surrounding areas. it wasn’t like she was dangerous in her mind, it’s all fun and games . . . until someone gets hurt.

           and who should get hurt? why, her beloved parents, of course. a freak accident ( a rush, a blur, not knowing where her powers could take her. ) cordelia was swallowed whole by the guilt of seeing both of her parents in the hospital, doctors whizzing around them while not knowing what in the world had gotten to either of them. they couldn’t for the life of them guess; most thought lightning had something to do with it. if they only knew it was the little girl sitting at each of their bedsides, hot tears streaming down her cheeks.

           they both eventually got to go home -- becoming known around nara as the lightning couple, due to the belief that they both were struck by lightning, despite the outlandish odds -- but cordy knew that she wouldn’t be able to go home with them. she would never forgive herself if something worse ( and there wasn’t much worse that could happen to either of them ) so she found hosu and ran, ran, ran. of course, when she arrived safe and sound, she wrote to her parents, but she’s broken inside knowing that, well, it has to be this way. it’s breaking them all, but it has to be this way.

🌌 —  WELCOME TO THE ISLE.

          THE BROWN-EYED girl shows up on the island shaking. she'd never done anything so brash before, yet, here she was, so many miles away from everything she'd ever known and with nothing to her name . . . nothing other than that stupid quirk she'd been all but cursed with.

          stupid stars. stupid light. stupid gas. stupid universe.

          . . . so what if she's not exactly eloquent, she's too angry to care. what a wicked way to go, but cordelia figures it's better her than her parents. they do forgive her, eventually, but it takes quite a few conversations that last hours upon hours and some good, old fashion groveling. afraid of growing so close to someone that she can hurt them again, cordelia becomes a master of being seen and not heard; it's easier to not be missed if no one really knows you, after all.

          but it's incredibly lonely. living by a rule that an eleven-year-old version of herself created is becoming harder and harder with each passing day, especially when she starts having to lie to mom and dad when they ask about her friends ( cordelia never did like that sad sounding sigh that would always come across the line. ) so she creates these fanciful friends and their fantastic adventures across the isle. they all have their own quirks but they learn to live with them, learn to love them and, by extension, themselves. yeah, it sounds something out of a coming-of-age film that cordelia would probably love . . . but what her parents don't know won't hurt them.

          but it'll end up hurting cordelia. karma's been chasing not too far behind with its sight set on her and, one day, it finally gets her. a horrible accident, her mother exclaimed, so much blood and just -- what, what is going on? cordelia's heart was in her throat and she wanted to scream until she broke the sound barrier. she nearly went supernova ( quite literally, too. it took everything in her not to explode right then and there. ) her father was hit by some punk drunk driver and was announced dead on arrival . . . what? why would the universe do such a thing? why would those stupid stars that everyone swore by decide to take such an inherently good person away?

          it wasn't fair. cordelia fell into a deep deep depression. the stars didn't shine nearly as brightly as they once did ( there was no one to create new galaxies for anymore. ) every night, she'd watch the stars she'd created for her father, her mother, the old friends she knew in nara, die slow deaths. soon, there would be nothing left in the world with her namesake on it and cordelia, all at once, found that to be a crying shame. call it her father's optimism finally rubbing off on her, or just simply finding it hard to keep lying to her now-widowed mother.

          she was going to find some friends . . . anyhow, anyway. if karma, the stars, the government, anything or everything was keeping an eye on her, she’d at least give them a worthwhile show.

🌌 —  PERSONALITY TRAITS.

POSITIVE : appropriate, brave, balanced, sugary, polite, organized, practical.

NEGATIVE : co-dependent, stuffy, standoffish, aloof, lethal, anti-social, incapable, dishonest.

LABEL : the doll . . . beautiful but fragile / untouchable.

EASTERN ZODIAC SIGN : THE RAT . . . a clever, quick thinker; successful, but content with living a quiet and peaceful life.

WESTERN ZODIAC SIGN : ARIES / THE RAM . . . a fire sign.  a passionate, motivated, and confident leader who builds community with their cheerful disposition and relentless determination. uncomplicated and direct in their approach, they often get frustrated by exhaustive details and unnecessary nuances.

PERSONALITY TYPE : INTJ / THE ARCHITECT . . . highly analytical, creative and logical.

🌌 —  THE CONNECTION IDEAS .

AURIGA / THE CHARIOTEER  . . . you and cordelia live in the same building. you have the ( un ) fortune of living above her, and in the middle of the night, you awaken to so many odd noises. when you look outside your window, you see her in the middle of the field painting the night sky with thousands of sparkling lights. stars . . . and so many of them! maybe you like them, maybe you ask her to spell out a swear word in the sky, or maybe you just want to sleep.

CASSIOPEIA - THE QUEEN  . . . cordelia rubs you the wrong way. that emotionless void of a girl has gotten on your last nerve and you are going to show her. how? you're not sure yet, but she will rue the day she ever crossed you. wait, what do you mean she's not that bad? that's not fair! you're supposed to hate her . . . wait, did you ever?

CYGNUS - THE SWAN . . . you fell for a vision. no, literally, a vision. they say you only dream up faces you've seen in real life, and for some reason, cordelia is that face. maybe she visits you in dreams and messes with your head, or maybe she's that serial killer who runs after you down the never-ending hallway with a knife in her hand and a smile on her face. how do you deal with seeing her . . . all the time?

GEMINI - THE TWINS . . . something happened and you were both in a tough situation, with cordelia being in the tougher of the two. you two strike a deal to help one another, but you tell her that she owes you. whatever she owes you, that's the deal ( please don't be weird about it tho ) and, for as long as you'd like, she can run around and do your errands for you, tell everyone your blunt opinion of them ( she's pretty good at that ) or just have to listen to you sing the entire aladdin soundtrack over and over again at 3 am. your call.

LYRA - THE LYRE . . . cordelia's never been the type to truly understand people. she always thought that it was because she was so sheltered growing up, really choosing to spend her time with her parents and a select friends from school. however, as she's grown up, she's come to learn that she does want to understand people . . . she just can't. not for trying, but she's too blunt, too sardonic, too -- cordelia. which is why she enlists your help. you're the golden child and she'd like a little bit of that sparkle to shine on her, thank you very much.

ORION - THE HUNTER . . . call it fate, destiny, whatever you will -- something brought you and cordelia together for a fun summer romance. however, now that summer’s melted into fall and everything is getting colder, so did your romance. you broke it off in a way that you thought was amicable but cordelia would be quick to disagree with. she doesn’t want you back, per say, but she does wish that she could have had better closure than a single text message . . . then again, she wasn’t exactly an angel in the relationship either. after she drops off one of your hoodies, you find a crumpled up note stuck in the pocket of someone confessing their love for cordelia . . . during your relationship. seriously, it includes your name and everything! do you confront her, or do you try and get the pair together?

URSA MAJOR - THE BIG BEAR . . . she didn’t mean to, honestly !! you just so happened to be hit by that star and, oh god, it’s like the entire ordeal with her parents all over again. only except she doesn’t really know you. every day during your stint in the hospital, you receive a bouquet of beautiful flowers -- maybe they’re your favorites or maybe they’re the type you cannot stand -- with the same note. i’m sorry. you figure it isn’t from anyone you know; it can’t be, can it? on your second-to-last day, the apologetic message is accompanied by an address and a little, scratchy handwritten note asking to meet someone there. against your better judgement you do, but no one is there . . . until you look up in the sky to see an incredible array of different-colored gasses ,you’ve never seen a nebula up close, save for photographs. a tall, black-haired girl walks beside you and begins to explain that she did not mean to hit you with a shooting star. she was simply practicing but her aim isn’t where it needs to be. do you believe this girl, or run as far as you can away from her?

[neoneversleeps]

the sun, the moon and the stars | m.tl

pairing: moon taeil x reader (hanahaki!au)

genre: angst

warnings: major character death, mentions of blood, mentions of underage drinking

description: 

She was the sun and he was the moon, and you were the stars that burned with the desire of attaining something unattainable. 

words: ~6k

notes: hey guys! this fic has been a long time coming and im so happy to have finally finished it. this is also the first time im writing angst so bare with me if its not that good. hope you enjoy it nonetheless !!

- lilac

Moon Taeil. The name was fitting, really. Every time you thought of him, you thought of the moon. You thought of the nights all those years ago where Taeil drove the both of you to the hill outside the city in his hand-me-down car in the dead of the night because you just needed to get away. How the both of you sat on the grass looking up at the moon, his hand gently resting on yours and the soft night breeze drying your tear stained cheeks. he was your shoulder to cry on in those times. A comforting presence. Much like the moon in the night sky, Taeil had become a constant in your life from the very beginning.

You remembered the time when you were young and stupid and drank way too much at some house party. How the both of you stumbled through his garden at 3am, you desperately stifling your laughter as you tried to maneuver Taeil without him falling flat on his face. He was even more of a lightweight than you. You ended up tripping over your own two feet and sending both of you crashing onto the ground. Laughter flitted from you both as you stared at the moon in the sky. Suddenly Taeil leaned up and hovered over you. You didn't even have time to think as his lips planted a kiss on yours, and you kissed back. His kiss was warm and soft, hot breath fanning against your lips in stark contrast to the cool air around you. You couldn't quite remember how you ended up falling asleep in his room that night, but you definitely remembered the morning after.

Waking up the next morning on the mattress next to Taeil's bed, you had looked at the sleeping boy with newfound hope. Hope that your pathetic little (or not so little) crush on Taeil would be reciprocated. However, when he finally woke up he had no recollection whatsoever of the night prior. Your first kiss, forgotten so easily by the boy who had held your heart in his hands for as long as you could remember. Life went on normally after that, as if nothing had changed. But something had changed, and you were terrified because of it.

You were scared, so, so scared but you pushed every thought of the dreadful disease that plagued your world to the back of your mind. You weren't in love with Taeil, right? It was just a crush. It would fade. Its wasnt love. It wasn't. It couldn't be. He was your best friend and your love for him was purely platonic. These were the word you repeated to yourself over and over in your mind, hoping that if you said them enough they would become true.

You knew, however, that you were lying to yourself. Still, repeating the mantra in your head seemed to keep the disease at bay for quite some time. There even came a time where you thought you had successfully avoided it all together.

You were wrong.

It was the day Taeil's college acceptance letter was said to arrive. You had already gotten yours and had a confirmed spot at the University you were both aiming for. You were just as nervous as Taeil about his results and were headed over to his house for moral support (and to calm your racing heart). But as you turned the corner onto the street where Taeil lived, said boy was already running towards you, a piece of paper held high in his hand, chanting “I got in! I got in! I got in!”. He reached you and immediately picked you up in his arms, swinging you around a couple times. You were taken aback at first but soon laughed with the overly happy boy. He set you down again and as you looked into his eyes, the ones that shimmered like the moon in the night sky, you just knew.

He hugged you impossibly tight and whispered in to your neck: "I'm so happy we'll get to stay together. I don't know what I would do without my best friend." And you smiled, because you knew that his words were sincere and warm but there were tears pooling in your eyes at your sealed fate. He pulled away and the smile on his face morphed into a concerned frown at your teary look. "Are you ok?" His worried eyes bored into yours. "Yes," you responded, "I'm just so proud of you." The smile he gave you after that was worth the ache you felt in your heart.

That night, the seed was planted in your lungs, and a few months later you coughed up blood for the first time. You were a goner now.

It had been almost five years since that day and somehow, you were still alive. It seemed that the universe wanted to draw out your suffering for as long as it could. Both you and Taeil were now finished with college and well into your work-life. You had decided to become a graphic designer, as it was your passion since you were young. It only provided you with some odd jobs and didn't exactly guarantee a loaded paycheck, but it made you happy and you figured, with what limited time you had left, you might as well enjoy it. You worked mainly out of the comfort of your small apartment. It wasn't much, filled with tiny fake succulents and vintage knick knacks you had collected over the years, but when the golden hour settled throughout the city, the warm light bathed the apartment in an orange glow. And at night, you could perfectly see the moon shining down at you from where you sat at your desk, distracting you from your work countless time as your mind drifted to the man who shared it’s name.

Moon Taeil. The boy you had met as just a child had now grown into a man. He had become a true virtuoso on the piano (musical instrument he had mastered in his teen years). He was sought after by many theaters and often played shows that were sold out in the blink of an eye. In addition to his musical work, he had also taken on a day job as a music professor at the Uni you both studied at. He was as happy as could be, and you were happy for him. All these years your love for him had never faltered and even though it meant bloody petals would force their way out of your throat every once in a while, you didn't regret loving Taeil. You never did. It was just so easy to love him and to you, it felt natural. No matter how much it hurt.

However this did mean it hurt unbearably to see him happy with someone else. Tanaka Michiko, a Japanese transfer who had moved to Korea 2 summers ago. Taeil fell head over heels for her, and you couldn't blame him. She was gorgeous. Her sooty black hair fell in waves just above her shoulders, soft freckles dotted around her nose, a permanent dazzling smile on her face and honey skin which was warm to the touch.

His face brightened every time he would talk about her to you, about how much he wanted her to be his. Hours he had spent telling you about every detail that defined her as his head rested on your lap, your fingers combing through his tresses. From the way she talked, a cute accent highlighting every word that left her mouth, to the way her nose crinkled when she laughed. With every miniscule particularity you had learned about the girl, you were sure you could draw her from scratch in your mind.

So, finally, one night you had smiled at him and with a heavy heart and petals scratching at the insides of your lungs, and told him to go after her.

He chased after her for some time, but it wasn't long before she too fell for his charms. How could she not? Taeil was the perfect man. Handsome, thoughtful, kind, talented. It was impossible not to fall for the guy. A few months passed before they were official, and Taeil had proudly introduced her to you. You felt that you should hate her. Hate her for taking Taeil away from you, taking up his time, for having that which you have always hoped for. But you found that you just couldn't. Because she was sweet and understanding and kind and most importantly, she was good to Taeil.

You could see how much love she held for him in the way her eyes lingered on his face every time he smiled. You'd know that look anywhere. It's the same one with which you looked at him. When the two of them were together, it was like she was the sun and he was the moon, an absolutely perfect pair. Both of them completely opposites but a faultless match nonetheless. When you sat facing them in yours and Taeil's favorite diner, you felt as though you were the stars looking onto their love, but never getting to touch or feel the love you so desired for yourself. Always watching from a distance. Always longing for the warmth they held. But much like stars in the freezing expanse of your universe, you were left out in the cold.

Two years had passed since they first got together. Their anniversary was coming up and Taeil had begged you to help him come shopping for something special, claiming he needed your help choosing "the right one”. You had asked him what he meant on the phone but he was evasive.

Now you were being pulled through the crowded streets of Seoul by a very excited Taeil. "I've already narrowed it down to this one shop, but I just can't decide which one she would like better and I *need* your opinion." He explained through quick breaths as he moved through the huge number of people that surrounded you, all heading their separate ways. You were still very confused as to what he meant. "What do you mean, Taeil? Which wha-" you were cut off by Taeil's shout: "Here it is!". You looked up at the sign above the quaint little elegant looking shop in front of you.

The name Manon's Bijouterie was printed above the entrance, elegantly curled in a feminine looking font. Your stomach dropped to your feet. You should of seen this coming.

He was going to propose.

And of course he wanted his best friend to help him choose the perfect ring. You gulped and looked up at the man beside you, a sheepish grin on his face. "You sure you ready to pop the question?" You asked him, trying to keep your voice a teasing tone, despite the shakiness hidden underneath. He laughed nervously but answered determined nonetheless. "I'm sure." He smiled at you, genuinely happy. You couldn't help but smile back, surprised at the fact that it was genuine as well. Then again, all you ever wanted was for Taeil to be happy, and he was, so by default, you were happy too.

The two of you spent the next hour and a half deciding on a ring. He ended up buying a small and delicate silver ring with a beautiful golden shimmering quartz stone. "It reminded me of her warmth." He had told you, a warm smile spread across his face. "You know, kinda like she's the sun and I'm the moon". He giggled slightly at his confession. “It’s silly i know.” You felt unable to respond in any way, instead resorting to chuckling bitterly at the irony of the fact that you had made that same comparison in the past. Fate really loved to rub salt in your wound. Taeil didn't notice your little change in demeanor though, he was far too immersed in thought as to how he was going to make his proposal as perfect as possible.

That night ended up with flowers once again forcing their way up your throat, scratching at your inner walls and taking drops of blood with them. Hanahaki ,as you had discovered, also had a cruel way of always choosing a flower that reminds you of your unrequited love and for the past years the petals you had coughed up had always belonged to the same flower.

The moonflower. 

    Ipomoea alba, sometimes called the tropical white morning-glory or moonflower or moon vine, is a species of night-blooming morning glory, native to tropical and subtropical regions of the New World.

“The moonflower requires full to partial sun, so it is important to find it a place where the sun's rays can easily reach it.” This particular sentence had stuck out to you as you had looked up the name of the flower during one of the first times it happened. You almost laughed at how much the universe seemed to love irony.

In all your time living with the disease you had gotten pretty desensitised to the flowers crawling up your throat. Tonight, however, you broke down in tears. And for the first time in a long time, the fear of death plagued you nightmares.

It was becoming more and more noticeable that your health was slowly deteriorating, gradually becoming worse in the months leading up to the fateful wedding. Taeil and his future wife were far too busy with preparations and their own jobs to realize there was something wrong. In fact, most of your friend group were too wrapped up in their own worlds to notice either, which you were thankful for. You didn't want any questions. You had never told any living soul about your little “issue” and you promised yourself you never would. Unfortunately for you, your good friend Johnny was very perceptive.

He invited you to coffee and you had innocently accepted. How were you to know that he would end up interrogating you? "Y/N, I know there's something wrong. You've been looking really under the weather lately and I'm concerned. Also, before you say anything, know that I won't let up until you tell me." His tone was firm, one of his hands resting comfortably on yours. You loved the fact that Johnny was so caring, you truly did, but right now it was very annoying. "How many times do I have to say it? I'm fine, Johnny. I just have this cold that's been clinging on for longer than it should. That's it." You say as nonchalantly as possible,  itching to just change the topic. "Well, I don't believe you." Johnny states matter-of-factly. You roll your eyes at him. "Fine, don't believe me then, but that's all there is to it." He gave you one last disbelieving look but dropped the questions. You released a sigh of relief. However, from that point on you were careful to cover up the paleness of your skin whenever you were around Johnny, aware that he still had his suspicions.

Time had a habit of slipping through your fingers. In seemingly only the blink of an eye it was the night of the rehearsal dinner. You talked with some of the guests and greeted Taeil's parents, admiring the beautiful beachside location the couple had chosen for their ceremony. The venue had a breathtaking view of the ocean, full moon standing tall in the night sky and perfectly visible from the small balcony where guests mingled throughout the evening.

You had started to wear heavier makeup to hide the bags under your eyes, the paleness of your skin and the hollowing of your cheeks. You gave your speech perfectly and had the whole audience, including Taeil, tearing up at your emotional words. You were so numb to the pain in your chest by now that delivering the speech was an easy feat.

That night, as you laid in the bed of the hotel room close to the venue that Taeil had rented for you so you wouldn't have to drive back to your apartment in the night , you looked out at the sky through the huge balcony windows. The same full moon from earlier looking down at you. The moon had caused you so much pain over the years, serving as a constant reminder of the boy whose heart would never be yours. Yet somehow, even after all the suffering, the moon still brought you comfort. Still reminded you of those many nights where you and Taeil gazed up at it's beauty, all your hardships and concerns being swept away by the wind. You smiled at the memory and, somehow, you felt at peace.

There were no flowers that night.

The next day was strangely enough one of the happiest days of your life. You had expected to be close to bursting out into miserable tears every second or to be so numb to everything around you that you wouldn't be able to utter a single word but instead, you found yourself waking up with a weight having been lifted off your shoulders. The whole day you were filled with a sense of happiness.

You sat in the prep room with Michiko, talking and laughing about all kinds of things together with the other bridesmaids. You even told them childhood stories about you and Taeil, something that would normally bring back painful memories. You told them about the times the two of you had secretly snuck out candy from your local convenience store or how you would always prank Taeils older sister on april fools day each year. You even recounted some drunken Taeil tales that had Michiko clutching her stomach in laughter, her makeup artist desperately trying to keep her still as she tried to do her job.

Shortly before the ceremony was set to start, you had located Taeil's fitting room, rasping your knuckles lightly against the door before he uttered a "come in!". You slipped inside the room. Taeil was standing in front of the mirror, nervously arranging his bowtie with a thin sheen of sweat covering his forehead. He looked handsome. In that moment you thought back to the scrawny Taeil you had grown up with. You were so proud of how far he'd come.

Picking up a napkin, you went up to him, turning his body so he would face you. You lightly tapped the napkin against his forehead to remove the droplets of sweat before moving to perfectly set his bowtie. Taeil sighed and smiled at you. "What would I do without you?" "Crash and burn, probably." The both of you chuckled. Taeil looked nervous so you laid a hand on his shoulder as you spoke to him. "Taeil, you're an amazing person and you deserve all the happiness in the world. You both do. And I know you're going to be the best husband ever." He seemed to want to retaliate but you didn't let him. "You can do this. Deep breaths.This is just like playing a sonata in front of a bunch of people. You've done that loads of times." "Yeah but this time I'm not playing the piano. And as far as I know a sonata does not require a lifelong commitment." You gave him a pointed look. "You know what I meant." He smiled at the look on your face and took a breath. "You're right. I can do this." He hugged you before you stepped back out of the room.

"Go get em tiger."

That day you walked the aisle, not as a bride (as you had many times imagined) but as a bridesmaid, and yet, the smile you wore was still blindingly bright. It was like the happiness that filled Taeil on this day was within you too. You found it weird, of course, but there was no itch in your throat and no ache in your heart so you were content.

Everything went smoothly and after the ceremony and the cake-cutting, the real festivities started. You danced with God knows how many people that night and drank quite a few cocktails. You were pretty sure you had danced with Taeil as well at some point. You still faintly recalled seeing his face in front of you as he moved rather dorkily to the music. Your own laughter rang in your ears. It felt as if you were on cloud nine.

Little did you know, that you would soon plummet from said cloud very quickly and very painfully.

**

You were growing tired and Johnny had offered to walk you down to your hotel room.

That's when it happened.

It was like everything hit you at once. There was a pang in your chest as every ounce of heartbreak you had felt came crashing into you, the pain making you cripple over. You could barely hear Johnny's concerned words over the ringing in your ears, could barely feel his hands trying to hold you steady as every moment of rejection you had ever had played in front of your eyes like a broken record. Suddenly, your throat seared with a burning heat and you were throwing up more flowers than you ever had, the white petals contrasting with the angry red of your blood as they lay on the ground in front of you. The world around you was muffled. You could hear someone's frantic shouting and footsteps but it was distorted, could see flashing lights in your peripheral but everything was spinning. Soon enough, your vision faded to black as you collapsed onto the floor.

You woke up to the beeping of a machine. Slowly trying to open your eyes, you were met with a bright white ceiling and pale blue walls, a window with the curtains only half shut, letting in enough sunlight to let you know it was daytime. You turned your head to the side. A heart monitor. That confirmed the fact that you were, indeed, in a hospital. Your throat still burned slightly, a bitter aftertaste of blood in your mouth.

The door opened carefully and a nurse’s head popped in. "Oh, you're awake!" She spoke chirpily as she met your eyes. "Your friends will be happy to hear that. I'll go let them know as soon as I take your vitals. Is that ok?" You nodded, afraid that if you opened your mouth to speak, a river of flowers and blood would spill out. Her gaze met yours a couple of times as she took your vitals. She always smiled at you, but there was an underlying sadness behind it, maybe sympathy or pity. You couldn't blame her, you were in a pretty pitiful situation.

She left the room and soon after, Johnny appeared before you. "Hey you." He smiled, trying to sound as happy as he was normally, probably to make you feel better. It didn't, but you were appreciative of his attempt. "Johnny." You croaked out and his eyes flitted to yours.

"What happened?"

Johnny explained that he had called the ambulance as soon as he saw the petals and that Taeil had come running frantically as he got wind of the situation.The ambulance had promptly  arrived near the chapel and he guessed that most of the guests knew by now. Taeil and Michiko were both here at the hospital all night, same as Johnny. They had only stepped out half an hour ago to get a late breakfast.

You frowned. You felt bad for ruining your best friend's wedding, one of the most important events in his life. You were brought out of your thoughts by Johnny. "Just a cold that's been clinging on for longer than it should huh?" He quoted your words back to you and you shrugged, not really knowing what to say. You felt bad for lying to Johnny too. He let out a frustrated sigh. "How could you not tell me about this? Or anyone, for that matter? I mean, I can understand that you wouldn't want to tell me, maybe we aren't close like that.” You winced at his words. “But not even your family? Not even Taeil?" You laughed bitterly at that last part, which then turned into a choked sob, tears gathering at your eyes. "Oh God. It's Taeil isn't it?" Johnny whispered in realization. Then you burst into tears. Too much. This was all too much. Sobs wracked through you as Johnny held you, softly patting your hair as he whispered sweet nothings to you.

You calmed down after a few minutes, just in time for the doctor to walk into the room. "Good morning." He greeted the both of you. "I have a few things to discuss with the patient.” He glanced at Johnny. “Normally only family members are allowed to be present but if you want your friend to stay I can allow it." You squeezed Johnny's hand as you turned to talk to him. "You wouldn't mind if I spoke privately with the doctor, would you?" Johnny gave you a reassuring smile as he squeezed your hand back. "Of course not". He gave you a kind smile once again, nodded politely at the doctor and left the room.

"So, miss y/l/n. According to our test, you have had this disease for nearly a decade. Am I correct?

"Yes."

"And during all these years, you were the only one with knowledge of you having this disease?"

"Yes."

"And were you aware that there was a procedure to remove the roots from your lungs?"

"Yes."

"And you knowingly chose not to have this procedure?"

"Yes."

Of course you knew about the removal. That in the early stages you could remove the roots slowly growing inside your lungs before they became too many. Was the reason to not have this removal stupid? Maybe for some people, but not for you. It might sound crazy to anyone else, but the feelings you had for Taeil were a part of you, they were woven into your soul and had, for as long as you could remember, been a part of your life. Losing those feelings would be like losing a part of yourself. Besides, the procedure removed all feelings of love towards the person in question. Wouldn't that also mean you  wouldn't even feel platonic love towards Taeil? You couldn't risk losing your friendship with him. Taeil was one of, if not the most important person in your life. You couldn't lose him. You couldn't.

The doctor sighs thoughtfully. "To be honest with you. It's a miracle you've even survived this long. Most people suffering from hanahaki die in the first two years if they do not get it removed.” He looks at you for a reaction, but you do nothing. “The fact that your body has held it off for so long is medically unprecedented. However, the disease has become so advanced that we don't even have the possibility of removal now. And the flowers inside your lungs just keep on increasing in quantity. At this rate, I'm afraid the time you have left is at best... three days." You swallowed hard at that last sentence. All these years you had known this day would come. You had prepared for it, trained yourself to not feel fear in the face of death. Yet here you were, and the thought of your life ending still absolutely terrified you.

Seeing as you didn't respond, the doctor figured you might want some time to process the information he had just loaded onto you, so he cleared his throat. "I'll leave you to-" "Is it possible that my friends not be informed of how much time I have left?" The doctor blinked a few times before he answered. "Legally, we only have the obligation to inform your family of your condition so yes, your friends do not have to receive that information. But are you sure-" You cut him off again. "I'm sure" You spoke firmly and the doctor nodded, turning to exit the room but you stopped him once more. "One last question." He turned back to face you. "Does it hurt?" You asked, voice barely above a whisper. The doctor looked at you with sympathy in his eyes. You didn't have to say it, he knew what you were referring to. "I wish I could tell you otherwise… but death by hanahaki disease makes the person suffer a great deal." You nodded at him to continue. He sighed. "The plants will build up to the point that they pierce through the tissue of the lungs, filling them with blood, which the person will then start to cough up as the lungs tear apart from within and the person will start choking as they are no longer able to breathe. The whole process can take up to a few minutes." He spoke calmly and you absorbed all the information, leaning back on your bed, not being able to avoid picturing the scenario in your head.

You told the doctor he could go so he left the room. Only a few minutes passed before Taeil entered the room. His hair was slightly tousled and the dress shirt he wore was wrinkled and untucked. He looked tired and stressed out and your heart ached at the sight. He came to sit down on the chair next to your bed, clasping his hands together and placing them on your bed before laying his head on top of them, his face not visible to you. He inhaled and exhaled deeply, as if preparing for something. Slowly he lifted his head but his gaze still wouldn't meet yours.

"Is it me? Is it because of me that you've suffered all these years?" Taeil's voice came out raw and pained, the quiet sound would have barely been heard if it wasn't for the fact that the room was deathly silent. You bit your lip, you had to tell him. Your hand moved to comb through his hair and he let you,the gesture a comfort to him as much as it was to you. You didn't quite know how to start so you just went with your gut feeling "I don't regret loving you. If I did, I would have had the roots removed but I couldn't-" "Why didn't you?" Taeil stood up abruptly, his voice suddenly much louder in volume. "Why in the hell didn't you get it removed? Why? Why? When you knew that it could kill you!" He was yelling now, tone strained and desperate and you felt hot tears gather in your eyes all over again. "I couldn't risk losing you! I've loved you my whole life Taeil!" "But I haven't. I never loved you like that and you knew it." Your heart broke at his words. It was one thing to be aware of it but another entirely to hear the words directly out of Taeil's mouth.

He raked his hands roughly through his hair in frustration. He was angry, that much was obvious. "Why couldn't you just think of yourself for once? And why did you have to be so-...so stupid as to not tell anyone? Why-" His voice gave out at the end, a sob threatening to spill from his throat. Taeil had always loved you, just not in the same way. The fact that this was the reason that you might lose you was excruciatingly painful for him. He looked over at you, saw the silent tears rolling down your hollowed cheeks and the way your formerly vibrant eyes seemed to have lost all it's color. It felt horrible to see you like that and he mentally cursed himself for not noticing sooner. For not helping. For being a terrible excuse for a best friend.

Neither of you said anything for a while until you broke the quiet. "I'm sorry..." You looked at Taeil as you said it. You were sorry. Sorry for Taeil and the fact that he was the one you fell in love with, which wasn't his fault. Sorry for your friends and family whom you had kept this a secret from all these years.

But most of all, you were sorry for yourself, for falling in love with the one boy you would never be able to have.

Taeil stepped towards you and enveloped you in hug. Unbeknownst to you, you had started crying once again. You were tired of crying by now, tired of everything, in all honesty. As Taeil held you and tried to calm you down it was like you knew that your end was close, even closer than the doctor had predicted. 

In that moment, you made a decision. 

After a few more minutes your cries had ceased. "Taeil? Could you do me a favor?" His eyes met yours as you talked. You saw anger, sadness but mostly fear swimming in his dark orbs. obrs that still shimmered like the moon in the sky, even after all these years. He nodded nonetheless. "Remember that bakery we used to go to all the time when we were in college? It had my favorite chocolate muffins ever. If I recall correctly, it's somewhere near here. Would you mind getting me one, please?" Taeil's brows scrunched up slightly at the odd request. "Please?" You added, trying hard not to sound desperate. "Of course." He said and gave you a small smile.

He stepped towards the door, opening it before glancing back at you one last time. "Should I tell the others to come in?" He asked. "No, that's ok. I'd like to get a little rest to be honest." You chuckled softly and gave him a reassuring smile. "Ok." His eyes flitted over you briefly. Clearly, he was nervous about leaving you alone. Eventually he gave a light sigh. "Well, I'll see you later then."

"Yeah, see you later Taeil."

The door clicked shut behind him and you reached for your phone. There was something you had to do. You scrolled through your notes until you found the one labeled "for my parents" which was a letter you had written a while ago in the event of your death, to say goodbye. You copied and pasted the text into an email and sent it. Then you went through your files to retrieve a video labeled as "taeil". You had recorded the video months before, on a night were you had coughed up so many flowers you had thought it would be your last. You attached the video into another email, finger hovering above the send button. You waited about twenty minutes, the itch in your throat and the ache inside your body getting worse every minute until it was almost unbearable. And as the flowers started to force themselves out, you hit send.

Taeil knew something had happened as soon as he entered the hospital wing you were stationed at. His phone buzzed in his pocket and he fished it out, looking at the notification that lit up his lock screen.

[1 new email]

from y/n

goodbye taeil

(no body)

[1 attachment] - taeil.mp4

His blood ran cold and suddenly he was running frantically to get to your room. His phone had started buzzing again. He turned the corner and his eyes met Michiko, taking notice of the tears running down her cheeks as she held her phone next to her ear. He stopped dead in his tracks, the squeaking of his shoes alerting Michiko to his presence. She slowly lowered the phone as she locked gazes with Taeil. His eyes flitted downwards as she mouthed the words “I’m so sorry.”.

It was then and there that Taeil’s world froze in place. No. No. No, no, no, no, no. This was not happening. This was not was not happening. This wasn't real. It wasn't. She couldnt be dead.

Could she?

He felt the impact of Michiko running up to him and wrapping her arms around his shoulders. Felt her nails digging into the fabric of his jean jacket as she held him tightly, desperately trying to ground him. He noticed as his tears dropped onto her shoulder, heard his heavy intakes of breaths ringing in his ear, but he felt as if he wasn't truly there.

You. The one person in his life he had taken for granted. The one person who was always, always there. A constant presence he could count on. You weren't supposed to leave. You were supposed to be there forever.  

But now,

you were gone.

And you were never coming back.

[feel199x]

cupid/eros!hwang hyunjin, greek mythlogy!au

🏹 summary: loosely based on the greek myth eros/cupid and psyche, in which Hyunjin falls for your dancing in a meadow, but you can’t look at him both because he needs to be sure you fell for him and not his face, and if the risk is worth the wrath of the gods

🏹 author’s note: so this is written differently, a lot more poetic (i write poetry, fun fact!) n im really proud of this one! im also trying something differently for the posts, let me know if you like it! masterlist

🏹 warnings: none, i believe, please let me know if you find any!

💌 song rec: movement  and moment’s silence AND NFWMB by hozier (you can definitely see the influence)

It was something you did every night, how could you not? The breeze, the willow trees, the whispering of the grass, the smell and brush of flowers against your skin. It was escapist, you knew, but there was no better dreamscape to run to than here. The night was young, and so were you. Something about the night was like a little rip in time, a pocket in reality. The smell of summer and youth lingered on you as you moved. The moonlight shed a warm glow on your face, illuminating your features as the stars circled in the sky, watching intently. Your sorrows were buried here, rotting with the gentle sins of self-proclaimed saints. There was nothing more magical than this, the warm soil beneath your feet- the heat of the summer day residing in the earth. The oak trees were as green as they ever could be, green like envy. It didn’t matter once the brightness faded because you knew that they would be back. The leaves would fall and rot, but no matter what, like nature, they would be back. You would die here, one day, but not today. The stars had yet to burst, the earth had yet to decompose with you lying in it- so you were here. It gave you peace, let your soul emerge anew once you left the sheltered greenery.

It was rare to find places like this, no technology could give you the feeling you had right now. The cicadas began to sing, soon joined by the gentle hum of ominity. It was like thunder against the earth when your feet hit the floor, hands reached, fingers grasping for something not quite there. Who else would give you this feeling? No man, no woman, no person, no god. This was self-satisfaction, you and you alone. Maybe it was ridiculous, but you moved like water, flowed like river. This a ritual, breeding peace and self-love. Life was winter, cold and unloving- but you? Right now you were the burn of rum and passion, tasting like cherries and dribbled honey. It didn’t matter if you didn’t feel beautiful then, outside of here. Because out here you were all that and more, angel dressed in silk, lust and innocence. No one could tell you anything, how could they? You moved like you had nothing to lose, heart content as it started to pour lightly.

The earth beneath you became wet, but you danced still. Clothes becoming damp, clinging to your body- but still, you moved. Arms up, fingers traveling up and down your skin as the sky’s tears still poured. What blasphemy could enter this grave, what god was her but you? The stars could watch, but they couldn’t dance, not like you could. Noah could part the seas, but you could not disrupt the flow, the course that your body took. This was as natural as nature herself, she too was watching, admiring among others. The witching hour was yours and yours alone, whoever you were didn’t matter. What mattered was who you were when you left, soul anew. Power, you cried. And power awoke in your veins. What did you have to lose? Anything that could be lost will be gained again someday, even for a breath.

Your sins were not yours here, they were the earth’s. She was the only one you could trust, her only lover the sun, her only persuasor the moon. She has seen what is yet to see, what is yet to come. The earth was your altar and you were the patron saint, even if only as the night slept. It was okay though, the moon and the ignition of your passion was enough- it was going to burn you to ash, your soul from bottom up. Pomegranate blood and persephone piety, this was heaven. Moss covered, flower based temple. Your rosary was made of rose and root, your sin abandonment. The only love you needed was yours, no foreign god’s name to scream in vain because you were the only divine.

“You’re so beautiful.”

“I know.”

You weren’t scared if he was here to take- then your end was eden. You moved still, the presence inching closer to you. The rain slid down your back, your eyes still closed as you twirled. “Are you here to dance?” You could feel his breath on your neck, hot and patient. “Yes. But you can’t look at me.”

“Sure, but leave your masks outside. We are sinners and saints in the silence, away from god’s eye.”

You turned, fingers traveling across his chest when he caught your hand. “Please, tell me your name. Could you?” You brought the both of your hands to your chest, pulling him closer and moved close to what you assumed to be his face. “I could.” His breath hitched as you teased him, feeling the heat of his skin. “But not yet, the night is still young.” He twirled you, becoming more confident in his steps. “My name is Hyunjin,” he murmured in your ear, “I’ve never seen someone dance like you do.” You smiled, unsure if he could see it in the empty darkness. “Of course, there’s only one me.” He danced with you, though there was no music. The only melody your hearts beating in sync, beating because no one could be sure when it would stop. “You’re divine,” he murmured again, “Never in all my years...seraphic, that’s what you are. Never has there been anyone like you in all of creation.” He was holding your hand up, moving when you did, following your pace as erratic as it could be.

“Immortals feel mortal love, a pain unimaginable to me,” you whispered, “But your pain escapes this realm. We are flesh and blood here, Hyunjin. Raw, human and nothing more.” He hummed, pulling you closer to him so your head could rest against your chest so your head could rest. “How did you know?” he continued to sway, “How could’ve you already figured it out?” You let go of his hands to move by yourself, for yourself. “The embarrassment of a mortal escapes them within their death, an immortal’s doesn’t. What other reason could you have for me to close my eyes?” You moved towards the forest’s opening, feeling him trail behind you.

“Can I ask something of you?” he grabbed both your hands, planting a kiss on them, and you nodded. “Your name,” he paused, “and a kiss?”

You laughed, the kind that made your shoulders shake a smile as bright as the moonlight above you. “My name? ___, and you may have a kiss…” you felt him lean, nose and forehead touching, “If you come back.” He laughed, and his breath smelled like cream, “I thought you were going to ask me if you could open your eyes.” You shook your head. “Your mask is not mine to take off.” He pressed his lips against yours, your hands in his hair, and his in yours, the ends of his palms on your jaw. He tasted like cream too, his hair like silk, he smelled like wisdom. Your lips parted and you disappeared into the yawning sun, spewing apricot light up into the sky. Water dripped from your clothes, damp and trailing water but you were content rubbing your cherry lips as responsibility submerged you into the day.

The next night the stars seemed to shed light just to prove themselves. Summer was still in full bloom, green and ripe like it would never get the chance to be. It was still dewy from the night before, drop of water swimming in the folds of grass. The night was lively, the dryads peering from the trees, the animals cautious and curious. Maybe it was awe, maybe it was just morbid curiosity, but they watched you nonetheless. You didn’t mind that you had an audience, this wasn’t exactly a normal feat and it only came once a night. The melody of forest life quieted, you could feel the earth move under him. “You’re back,” you closed your eyes, “I was expecting you.” He moved your hair to the side, letting his head rest in the crook of your neck. “I could never pass up the chance to see you dance,” you could feel his hot breath on the side of your neck, “or another kiss for that matter.” You swayed against his chest, his hand wrapped around your waist, hands hanging on your stomach and laughed. “Who said you were going to get another kiss?” His finger tapped against your waist before you turned around. The wind around you held its breath, everyone was watching, expectantly. “You are heaven incarnate, when we kiss, heaven sighs,” you felt yourself dip, back against his knee as he brought you back up again, “Time is of no consequence, I will wait like a fool for your love.”

“Love begins and ends wars, Hyunjin,” you warned, “Flora will grow over the fool of our graves.” He cupped your face, and you wished you could open your eyes. It had only been two days, but he had already seen a repressed part of you- and because of that, you had a naive sense of trust. Surely, it would be the end of you. But with no fallen eden, there would be no earth. “Then let it be, I will crawl my way back to you so the stems can sprout from our hearts.” You smiled against his lips, soft and plush. “You’re reckless.”

 He rested his arms around your shoulders and pulled you against his chest, his heartbeat thumping against his chest. “Only for love, only for you.” But it was time sooner than later, you could feel the sun pulling the night’s sheets to uncover the day. He held your hand as you tugged until the last forest opening to the dirt road home. You stopped, holding both of his hands as you stepped on the tips of your toes to give a peck. “Is that all I get?” You gave a smile, “What do you mean?” Hyunjin moved your hair out of your face, pressing his forehead against your, noses pressed against one another. “Can I show you?” You nodded, feeling his hands hold your face softly. His lips were soft as always, traces of a sweet fruit lingering on his taste. You gasped as he pulled away, and he pecked you again. He watched you disappear in the light of the growing sun.

Maybe it was something about that day that made you angry, the soil exploded as you jumped back down, spilling over the grass. You could feel the terra stick slightly to your heel, your movements were fluid but sharper than usual. This fire in you, it burned the edges of your soul until it became hardened and the ash fell to the earth. You relaxed, feeling the weight of your body while you danced. Man or god, you feared no monster, no, not here. The air was cooler, no humidity to make the heat in you rise. You could feel the cutting of the wind as your lips reached up and back down. Your eyes were open for now, looking up into the velvet sky as the violet clouds blocked some of the moon’s illumination. There was something unadulterated with sight, seeing things as they were in their natural sight. Nature didn’t exist for you, she lived for herself. We are all guests that inhabit her. And you admired that, you wanted to be just like her- uncaring and self-loving, and for the night you were. Your mind soon reached Hyunjin as you saw a deer approach you, circle around you as you danced. You knew there must be a reason, some insecurity, but again- a butterfly could not leave it’s cocoon prematurely. You didn’t need to see his face to realize that you liked him, it was something beyond visuals. He could dance, he could keep up with you- and he kissed like no one could, that was all that mattered. It didn’t matter what he looked like, the earth’s flowers didn’t care how beautiful they thought they were, why should anyone else? The deer ran off as someone paced towards you, and you instinctively closed your eyes. “Tonight is about you,” he said, “I’ll just watch.” He knew you somehow, and you figured it’s because he’s watched you for a while. He knew how your body moved with every emotion like the back of his hand. You wanted his company, but he restricted some of your movement, not that you necessarily minded. But tonight was different, the soil was caving under your feet and the air moving with you instead of around you. You couldn’t see his eyes on you, but instead feel them watching you intently. “You’re so beautiful like this,” he said, “It’s magical, how do you do it? I could watch you like a broken record.”

You didn’t respond, you knew that’s not what he wanted. He wanted to watch you dance, so that’s what you did- because it’s what you did best, most naturally. You collapsed into his lap finally, and he stroked your hair. “___?” You hummed in response, a small smile hanging from your lips. “Why haven't you asked to open your eyes yet?” You took his hand, intertwining your finger with his, lacing them like ribbons. “Because it doesn’t matter. You dance with me, and that tells me everything I need to know.” He kissed the back of your hand, “Don’t you feel vulnerable?”

“You’ve already seen me dance.”

 It was autumn now, your time for dancing in loose clothing coming to an end soon. You had barely started when you heard the owl’s hoots stop echoing. “You’re early.” He held your hand, kissing it had become a regular greeting. “It gets harder and harder to wait, my love.” he placed something in your hand, water falling off the stems, “Turn around, I got you something.” You obliged, holding the bouquet up to your nose. The smell lingered even as you pulled it away, hauntingly, sickeningly sweet. He brushed your hair away, fingers accidentally brushing across the nape of your neck, making you shiver. The metal was cold against your skin, and you traced the pendant with the pad of your finger. The two of you danced like you always did, chest against chest, heartbeats in sync. “My love,” Hyunjin paused, whispering lowly in your ear, “what will we do when winter solstice comes around?” You pulled back, using one hand to hold his face and he leaned into your touch. You pecked his lips, “We will make do like plants growing through the cracks of cement.” His hand touched yours, “If it’s not too much, could we,” his voice trailed off nervously, “Could I go back with you?” Your eyebrows furrowed slightly and you bit your lip, “Won’t you get in trouble?” He laughed, and you could feel his face smile. “Love and affection is a nature they can not deny me of.” And you nodded, “Okay,” you murmured, “but you need to follow behind me.”

The keys jangled in the lock, and before the door was completely open you heard Hyunjin ask for you to close your eyes. It was difficult to navigate since you weren’t used to walking around your home without your sight. You knew he would be gone by sunrise, but you asleep in each other's arms. His heartbeat lulled you to sleep as he told you how he admired you, and you him. It was as honest as your ritual dancing, and though you tried to keep yourself awake as long as possible but Hyunjin kept planting soft kisses along your face and neck, and in no time, you were asleep.

 It was like clockwork when he came, you could hear the cicadas quiet and the breeze became hushed, the grass just barely touched you. It was the next autumn now,  the breezed louder as it’s fleeting kiss lingered on the crisp autumn leaves. “I missed you,” he kissed you, “I just want to watch you.” The soil was harder beneath you, it didn’t jump like it was startled when your feet pressed into it. This summer you had fallen for Hyunjin, it was unmistakable- his presence loomed like a haunted piece of artwork. It was painful to fall for someone that felt like a dream, for a love that would never see the sun’s rays.

He was like angel dust, beautiful and pure and gave you the illusion of no consequence. Just once- but it never was really. “I want,” his breath quickened, “I want to see you illuminated by the sunlight.” You smiled, bright like a new star, and paused to give him a quick kiss. “I do too,” you said into the forest, “but we both know what will happen.” He pulled you from your dance, something you would never allow anyone but him to do.

He planted kisses like seeds all over your face, you could feel the sun’s head peeking into the sky. “I don’t care,” he said breathily, “I want you to, you have to see me.” You smiled letting your fingers trail lightly along his face. “I know things about you that no one else does,” he murmured, “No man, no kings. You and I are no strangers, just strange in love.” You let your hands sit on either side of his neck, forehead pressed against his chin. “God or man, we know no mercy,” you murmured, “love and lust a deathless death.” His hands sat on your hips, bringing down his head to press his lips against your forehead. “You are heaven’s last mouthpiece,” he whispered, “eden will only fall when flowers grow within your wake.”

The both of you swayed with the melody of the breeze, only to be broken by another whisper of nothing, “Open your eyes. Mercy not of man or god, but angels like you.” You knew it was wrong, to have fates intertwine like this. But he was the tide of the night, washing you up ashore all renewed. Nothing more human than eden’s forbidden apple, and that was this love. The sun was rising, the sand in your hourglass slipping fast. You could feel the peach light growing on your skin, suddenly warming up. “You look more angelic in the golden hour of the sun,” he said. It was getting late, you knew would never pass this up anyway, but the doubt lingered. “And you love me?”

“Even after heaven’s last star falls.”

He was beautiful, had the face of piano music. You understood now, why he asked you to envelop yourself into the void of no light. His wings brushed against the floor, white like buttermilk cream, like innocence, like naivety. A birthmark decorated his face, just below his eyes and his hair like nightlock. He brought you into his arms, running his fingers through your hair. “The golden rays suit you,” he looked up, whispering into the empty air, “Like running honey, so sunkissed.” This wasn’t allowed, but even buried in his grave, Hyunjin would find his way back to you. You fell for him, like lucifer from heaven. He was lust embodied, but never had this feeling sprouted in the pits of your heart and mistook it for love- and it never would. He kissed you again, and he smiled, giggling between the small gasps of the kiss. He was sweet, tasted like ripe strawberries. “I adore you,” you said breathlessly and he tangled his hand into your hair. “I’m infatuated with you, my love,” he said back, “Dance for me, even if just one more time.”

So you did.

[dykedteach]

okay here we go, episode 2 second watch

(I think this is my longest liveblog I’ve done, but then again I feel like this is the most emotional a tv episode has made me since I finished Black Sails so like?)

so uhhh they’re really gonna hide all the valuable people in the crypts huh, they’re really following through on that

“women and children first” to DIE??? I M EAN

i’ve been thinking about this non stop since i first watched the ep and my growing dread is nigh unstoppable, if i had any doubts that the winterfell dead might rise, their whole repeated thing of “everyone will be safe down there” shot them straight down

i’m lowkey annoyed we missed out on what would have been an incredibly awkward introduction scene between jaime and literally everyone, but i’m glad his “trial” didn’t drag out

i want sam’s opinion on dany’s bloodthirst vis a vis avenging her father BC LIKE????

“i’d do it all again” honey be QUIET 

L O Y A L T  Y 

loyalty

l      o   yal     t e  a

lmao daenerys’ look of anger and disgust at brienne hopping to jaime’s defense alone makes me want her dead tbh

sansa being a better strategist, ruler, negotiator, and peacekeeper than both of her parents combined, is my weakness tbh

also He R  aRmOuR drESs !!!!! what a LOOK! 

d: “what does the warden of the north say about it?” j: [has dissociated solidly through the past six hours, is only now just realising it’s daylight and he’s in the great hall] uhhhhhhhhhhhh cool i guess?

tyrion finally breathing after daenerys lets jaime live is ridiculously endearing, i love the brothers’ relationship so much

baeworm death-glaring jaime is also ridiculously endearing tbh

i dig the gendarya love theme, i do i do i do

everyone keeps saying that the fact they had sex means one of them will die next ep but honestly? out of all the non jonerys pairings (missandei/greyworm, sam/gilly, jaime/brienne) i think they’re most likely to live through the battle, and the fact they have their own theme makes me doubt as well that they’ll end next episode

that poor guy who got in the way of arya and gendry’s dragonglass throwing foreplay, so close yikes

i can’t believe that out of everyone who bran has been weird to, jaime was the one to take his weird shit best

“how do you know there is an afterwards?”           sd;kjlas

djkasljdak;lsd

                        asjd;lsakdla;sd

        bran

                               bran stop

   please be fuckin w us bran

this brotherly love scene is great and it hurts me to think it might be their last solo scene

although the way they keep talking about how sure they are they’ll die....idk? and with bronn on the way with his crossbow? to have both, or either, die at winterfell with the battle seems a waste. plus, one of them needs to be the valonqar so?

i’d be satisfied seeing a dead tyrion rip cersei apart though, i’ll admit that

JAIME GAZING AT BRIENNE INSTEAD OF LISTENING TO HIS BROTHER

pod has come so far in his fighting i love him so much i love brienne’s proud mama expression hes. he’s 100% going to die. for sure. 

“we have never had a conversation that’s lasted this long without you insulting me, not once” KJASDKLASJDKALSJDALKSD 

“i came to winterfell because...” Y OU LOVE HER DUMBASS

i still ship jorah with dany more than jon, fight me

i love the confirmation that all the bad blood between them is under the bridge, i love that he convinced her to make peace with tyrion and sansa, i love that he’s made peace with tyrion taking up his position, made peace with his house, with his relationship with his father...........

he’s absolutely toast and i hate it.

he’s going to die for dany with one last “khaleesi” and it’s going to break my heart

“we have other things in common” yeah you both have jon in your immediate family trees lmao

i’m confused by the “someone taller” comment, who’s she talking about? everyone else hurt her or betrayed her at some point. is it barristan? is it baeworm? it should be baeworm

ok so. i don’t need or want sansa to end up with anyone. 

that said

if it had to be a man

my heart almost jumped out of my chest when she and theon hugged, i didn’t expect her to get this emotional at all, shit i didn’t expect MYSELF to get this emotional

HER TEARS

THEY BOTH NEED HUGS IM GLAD THEY GET HUGS

soup dad can’t die i forbid it

let’s talk about gilly for a second, how far she’s come, from a scared abused girl to a strong, caring, confident woman and mother, i’m so emotional please protect her

DAVOS ADOPTING CHILDREN LEFT RIGHT AND CENTRE

THE SHIREEN THEME PLAYING OVER THAT BIT IM ASJDKASDJ

i’m super surprised edd and beric survived the hearth, i thought there would be more of a fight there

LITTLE CROW

i know people crack ship them, but like, they’d almost be better suited than jon and daenerys

while i adore the idea of theon making amends for taking winterfell from bran by defending winterfell and protecting bran from the night king, i know in my heart that all it’s going to result in is a very dead theon (and probably a dead bran)

why do i feel like while well intentioned, having dragons near the godswood is.....a mistake

i’d love for bran and tyrion to both survive, i’d love to see them talk more as equals because they’re so similar intellectually (i know they had scenes when bran was a kid, but that doesn’t count)

missandei and greyworm are too good and pure for this earth, i want them to leave, i want them to go to naath and never come back, i want them to find a little house by the water and eat fruits and find missandei’s family and take in some stray children, some street cats to lay lazily on the stones of their porch, maybe missandei teaches the children of their village every morning under the rising sun, maybe greyworm becomes a tradesman, makes shoes or ale or binds books for the locals, they grow old and content together and the children they took into their home, now grown adults with their own children, bury them side by side underneath carved stones, i want them more than almost anyone to have a happy ever after because if anyone deserves it it’s those two

but there are dreams that cannot be

and greyworm is almost certain to die next episode

maybe missandei too, but i’m not sure

until then, i will live in my fantasy.

i love my nights watch boys, i love that they talk about grenn and pyp, i miss those lads

sam being the playful, banter-full, confident guy he is, i love him so much i’m so happy for him he better fucking survive (and maybe become lord of horn hill who knows? he has a wife and a son so ? 

honestly the idea of tywin knowing jaime and tyrion are defending winterfell is so wonderful

ha ha h ah ah  ah h a i love tyrion and jaime so much that i. i forget. temporarily. about tyrion’s first wife

brienne stopping pod from drinking and then tyrion just.......fuckin pouring a large one out for the lad

please, let him drink, it’ll be his last

davos is such an old man i love him

jaime looking between brienne and tormund with amusement is the best thing ever

davos’ concern over ten year old tormund hopping into bed with a giant is incredible. dad mode. always on dad mode.

hound’s not gonna die yet, not until cleganebowl, he’s safe next ep for sure. so he’s allowed to be a grumpy old git for a bit

beric is straight up gonna die tho

“might as well be at a bloody wedding” g o d i dont like that foreshadowing

beric is so cheery and amicable im gonna miss him

i’m so glad that they gave arya agency, and a sweet, un-sexploited, in-character sex scene, there’s so few really good sex scenes in this show and i’m glad she got one of them

(no matter how long i spent the first time around watching through my fingers and cringing, i KNOW she’s an adult and maisie is an adult but god she’s still such a kid in my eyes)

as soon as the gloves started coming off i screamed

he is a sweet sweet boy and i wouldn’t want my murdering badass fave to be with anyone else

i appreciate them showing her scars as part of it, i can’t quite put my finger on why but it was nice to see that

i feel like once i get over the weirdness of like, “hey that’s arya”, it’s probably one of the hotter sex scenes in the series? just for passion and use of consent and stuff

i can’t even begin to elaborate on how perfect brienne’s scene is

it’s immediately one of my favourite scenes in the whole show, i honestly don’t have the words

it’s better than any marriage vows that have been taken in the whole series, and to see brienne proud and happy is just...incredible.

the mormont scene i wanted!!!

this is such a touching scene between two of my faves, i want jorah and sam to be pals forever but i know its just....not happening

the fact that sam starts in the crypt but i know he ends up on the battlefield is....concerning to say the least

god. that song. that song is everything

im too in my feelings to care about jonerys, sorry

i can genuinely believe that jon loves her, and doesn’t care about the iron throne or any titles really for that matter. but the other way around? i’m not so sure.

ok so my survival list: dany, jon, sansa, tyrion

everyone else is at risk please pray for me

oh also i bought the download of Jenny and already cried to it three times this evening, so the credits are making it a round four