#everlasting love and passion and affection and all that

[its-ate-oclock-somewhere]

Futamono Flower Meaning

So you're telling me that the very night after Will whore Graham sent someone to murder Hannibal simp Lecter, the man created this?!

[sluttywoozi]

Nothing But Love | jww x f!reader

Wonwoo's never had a girlfriend for Valentine's Day before, or a girlfriend period, so this day needs to be perfect.

Rating: M (18+) | WC: ~4.5k | Genre: romance, fluff | Pairing: wonwoo x f!reader

Warnings: food, alcohol, let's pretend it’s the weekend, wonu is loaded (he’s a streamer but i don’t really get into it), wonu’s first relationship aww, wonwoo follows the boyfriend handbook, kissing, some suggestive thoughts, u send him a nude and he malfunctions, no smut in this but i may do a second part if there’s enough interest xoxo

Reader Notes: shorter than wonu (sorry to my tall friends i luv u), wears a dress and heels, has breasts and a vagina

Wonwoo wakes the morning of February 14th with his stomach full of both fluttering butterflies and hefty sandbags. He’s been anticipating this for weeks now and finally, it’s here. Valentine’s Day. 

His first Valentine’s Day. 

Well, sure, he’s been alive for all the others, but this is the first one he’ll spend with someone, and he’s spending it with you, his girlfriend, his first girlfriend. He begged you to let him take care of everything, made all sorts of preparations, and today, it’ll all come to fruition (hopefully). There’s always the chance things could go wrong, and that’s what has Wonwoo’s mind feeling heavy even as his heart feels light. 

He rolls out of bed and scrubs a hand over his hair, not bothering to put on his glasses before he stumbles to the shower, knowing he would forget to take them off and they’d get all fogged up and wet. As he meticulously scrubs down his body, he goes through the plan in his mind. 

First, flowers. 

He placed an order for a bouquet three weeks ago, one with flowers that were carefully chosen to precisely convey his feelings for you. Red tulips for romance and passion, pink dahlias for eternal love and commitment, honeysuckles for devotion and affection, and baby’s breath spread throughout to symbolize everlasting love. He’s so excited to see how it turned out; you love flowers and have many of the meanings memorized by heart, so he knows you’ll know what they mean as soon as you see them. 

Next, he’ll pick up the strawberries. 

You adore strawberries in all forms - fresh, shortcake, compote, jam, jelly. Things with strawberries on them are an almost instant buy for you, meaning half the things you own are covered in them. You’ve even got Wonwoo buying strawberry themed items just because they remind him of you, evidenced by the red seeded mug in his cupboard and the patterned apron hanging in his kitchen, used only by you. So for Valentine’s Day, he went with chocolate covered strawberries, specially ordered for you with piped white chocolate hearts and edible glitter. 

Then, he only has to wait a few hours before he can pick you up and take you to your favorite fancy restaurant. He made the reservations two months ago, expecting it to fill up as the holiday grew closer and closer, and he’s glad he did considering he checked last night and there’s not a single spot left. He’s sure that’s the case for most of the city, and he almost feels sorry for the people who didn’t plan like he did. Almost. 

He closes his eyes as he rinses the conditioner you bought for him out of his hair, running his fingers through the wet strands until they no longer feel slippery and slick before shutting the water off and attempting to shake the excess droplets out. He reaches blindly for the towel and swipes it over his head and along his body until he’s sufficiently dry, stepping up to the bathroom counter and finding his toothbrush. He loads it up with toothpaste and starts brushing, leaning against the counter and huffing out a laugh when he remembers one of the jokes you made last night. 

You’re so funny, and so smart, and so cool and pretty and beautiful and cute and everything Wonwoo could ever want. He’s so fucking lucky to have you. These are thoughts he has all the time, and he supposes he really should tell you them more often. 

It’s hard to be so open when he still feels so shy around you, though. He’s comfortable with you, of course, but being affectionate or initiating things makes him feel bashful and timid. It’s almost like he’s being granted privileges he doesn’t deserve, and he’s reluctant to take full advantage of them because he doesn’t want to take advantage of you.

He spits and rinses quickly, his phone starting to buzz in his room. He races back, not knowing who’s calling but knowing it could be you. Even with blurry vision, he recognizes your contact picture and swipes to accept, bringing the phone up to his ear and plopping down on his bed clothed in nothing but a grin. 

“Hi, baby,” he says, the smile evident in his voice and surely picked up by you. He still gets a little thrill from calling you that. 

“Hi, Wonwoo,” you respond happily. “I just wanted to check in and see if I could do anything to help today.”

“I’ve got it all covered,” he assures you with pride, feeling his spine straighten and his chest puff out when you tell him, “Of course you do, you’re such a good planner.”

The conversation easily flows from one topic to the next, with you jokingly trying to uncover his plans the whole time. He can tell you don’t really want to spoil the surprise so he doesn’t give in, redirecting you with every attempt until he’s laying flat on his bed an hour later, his hair dry and his heart full. 

“Baby, I wish I could stay, but I have to go,” he reluctantly says, checking his watch and seeing a notification from the florist that your bouquet is ready for pickup. 

You say goodbye with a pout in your voice, but he knows it’s more playful than real so he doesn’t worry about leaving you too much. He still, of course, thinks about you the whole way to the flower shop, your voice and your laugh and your beauty on his mind as he coasts through traffic on his motorbike. 

The parking lot is full when he arrives, bar the motorcycle spots, and he wonders how many people are here for pre orders and how many are here last minute. They’re all in the same line so it doesn’t really matter, and with a small sigh, he joins at the back. 

He wastes time by scrolling through your shared album, the one you made in the early days for memes that swiftly became a repository for pictures of each other. He mostly cares about the ones of you, but it’s nice to see pictures of himself too, to see the way his smile reaches his eyes, to see the love he has for you in them. It’s his turn in what feels like no time, and he gives his name to the clerk, glancing around the shop placidly so they don’t feel like he’s rushing them. 

“I’ll be right back with your bouquet,” they say with a smile, turning and disappearing into a back room before emerging with an arrangement of reds and whites. “Does it look like you imagined?”

He beams as he accepts the flowers, inspecting them and naming every single one in his head before turning back to the clerk and thanking them, “They’re perfect, thank you so much.”

He paid when he pre ordered so that’s all there is to it. The queue is even longer when he leaves, and he tries to hide the sympathetic grimace as he passes the long line of waiting people. He hits a bit of a snag when he realizes he doesn’t know the best way to get the bouquet home, deciding in the end to just put it in his backpack and hope for the best. 

It’s not a long ride back to his apartment, and thankfully the flowers are only a little squashed when he pulls them out of his bag. They perk up when he puts them in water and the vase he bought for you, green milkglass with little painted strawberries dotted all over, and he smiles proudly, knowing you’ll love both the flowers and the vase. 

The chocolate covered strawberries should be ready soon, and he wonders if he should uber to pick them up. Usually, he loves just having a motorcycle, but at times like these, he wishes he had a car too. 

If it were any other day, for anything else, he’d ask you to take him. Unfortunately, he can’t ruin the surprise, so you’re out of question. Who else can he ask?

Wonwoo | mingyu will u take me to whole foods

Mingyu | Uhhh, sure, why?

Wonwoo doesn’t reply. 

With the strawberries secured, all Wonwoo has to do is wait four hours. He’s picking you up at 6:15 for your 6:30 reservation, and he thanks everyone he can think of - God, Mingyu, Mingyu’s partner - for the fact that they're staying in and Mingyu is letting him borrow his car. 

He knows you love the bike, but you’ll probably wear a dress tonight (fuck, he loves you in dresses) and he thinks a car might be better. He can always take you out on a late night ride after you change if you want. 

He passes the time first by tidying his apartment and picking out his outfit, and then by doing his streaming for the day, an alarm set to remind him to get ready and go pick you up around six. 

It goes off without him realizing it’s been hours, not minutes, since he started, the games blurring together until they felt like one continuous match. He stands on creaky knees and stretches, his face scrunching with the feeling of the ache in his back releasing, before shuffling to his bedroom and changing into the clothes he laid out on his bed. 

After brushing his teeth, he messes with his hair, combing through it with his fingers and attempting to get it to lay right. It’s getting longer and he doesn’t really know what to do with it, but you love the length and that’s all that matters to him. He slaps on some moisturizer then sprays some cologne, the one he’s found to be your favorite, before jogging to the door and slipping into his shoes. 

The strawberries and flowers are for when you come over after dinner so all he needs are the keys, and still, he almost forgets them. He dashes to the kitchen to grab them, swiping them off the counter and racing back through the door to the garage, telling Siri to text you that he’s on the way as he runs. 

Mingyu’s car is nice, a champagne colored Audi sedan, and it hums to life when he presses the remote start. He feels very debonair with his fancy car and tailored slacks, and as he climbs into the driver’s seat, he hopes you’ll be at least a little impressed. 

Mainly he wants you to feel special and loved, but he has to admit, he wants to prove himself too, prove that he can be a good boyfriend, a great boyfriend, for you. A boyfriend who thinks ahead and plans and provides, who knows your taste and what matters to you. A boyfriend who’s learned how to make you happy and strives to do so. 

It’s not that he thinks you doubt him, it’s just that he feels a little out of his depth with you. This is his first real relationship so he doesn’t have a lot of experience, and while he knows that you’re patient and kind and forgiving, he doesn’t ever want you to feel like he’s falling short.

He tries to remind himself you’ve given no indication you think that as he pulls up to your apartment, sliding into one of the fifteen minute spaces before putting the car in park and getting out. Checking his watch as he walks, he notes the time and smiles. He should arrive exactly when he said he would. 

If the fucking elevator would come, that is. 

He taps his foot, reaching out and pressing the button again, then tapping it incessantly when it still doesn’t light up. 

“It’s broken,” he hears your voice off to the side and whips his head over, his eyes widening when he catches sight of you standing in front of the door leading to the stairs. His hand falls limply to his side, his breath stalling in his lungs as you start to walk closer. You’re holding a purse and your heels, your feet protected by your outside slides and your overnight bag slung over your shoulder, and like he thought you would be, you’re wearing a dress. 

It’s strappy, sleek, and you glow in it, the reds and pinks flattering your complexion and the fit flattering your curves, the watercolor silk gliding over your body like he wishes his hands could. A devious voice in the back of his mind whispers that you may not be wearing a bra but he disregards it, focusing instead on how beautiful you look and how few words he has in his brain. 

Closer and closer you get and still, Wonwoo is speechless. 

He can’t summon his voice, can barely summon thoughts, and when you set your bag down and reach out to feel his sweater, he knows there’s no way he’ll survive a whole night of you looking like this. 

“Landlord’s out of town or there would be a sign,” you whisper, letting your hand smooth up his chest and wrap around the back of his neck, your nails lightly scratching his sensitive skin. 

As if he were in a trance, he leans down, his eyes slipping closed and his lips parting as he presses them softly to yours. He takes his time relearning the shape of your mouth, rediscovering the different ways it can fit with his as he kisses you, his heart pounding in his chest at the way you kiss him back. 

He’s about to swipe his tongue over your bottom lip, about to drop his hands to your waist and deepen the kiss, when the entry door bursts open and voices fill the lobby. He gasps, breaking the kiss and stepping back from you before taking your hand, throwing your bag over his shoulder, and nodding over to the door, “We should probably go. Don’t want to be late.”

Breathless, you blink at him and nod, following when he starts to tug you to the exit. He doesn’t let go of your hand as he leads you to the car, carefully looking both ways before pulling you across the street. Unlocking the car and turning it on with his other hand, he brings you around to the passenger side and opens your door, waiting for you to get in and closing it once you set your purse down. 

He jogs around to the driver’s side and slides into the car, checking his mirrors before pulling out onto the road and heading toward the restaurant. He was already listening to your shared mix on the way here, so it’s no surprise when your favorite song comes on. You gasp and aww at him like he planned it and he just laughs and takes your hand again, resting your combined grasp on your soft thigh. 

You tell him about your day as he drives, detailing your time at the nail salon and showing him your new set at a stoplight before extolling the virtues of afternoon naps and getting ready slowly over three hours instead of getting ready quickly in one. 

Not everything makes sense to him, like how gel can be nail polish and how one can spend three hours getting ready, but he’s happy to listen and happier to feel you squeeze his hand in excitement at different points in your stories. You pull away only to put your heels on, leaning down to buckle the sides and returning your hand to his. 

For once, Wonwoo can do valet, so he pulls into the loop in front of the restaurant and hands the keys over, glaring at the other valet when he goes to open your door. The man backs away, holding his hands up and heading to the next car as Wonwoo jogs around to your side. He lives for opening your doors (and paying for your nails and sending you money for food and planning your dates and and and), so you know to wait for him to get it for you. 

You told him he didn’t need to do all that in the beginning, but he gently begged you to let him. He’s never been a boyfriend before, he wants to do well, and he’s slightly embarrassed to admit he models his behavior after Mingyu’s. Mingyu and his partner are so happy, so in love, it’s almost displeasing to encounter, and Wonwoo can’t help but want the same for you and him. 

Hopefully with less public displays of affection, though the kiss in the lobby earlier doesn’t bode well. 

He can control himself though, he must, because being physical in public makes you shy and he doesn’t want you to feel uncomfortable, no matter how fucking cute you are when you get shy. You are okay with holding hands though, and he’s thankful for that as he takes yours to help you out of the car. 

He experiences the moment almost in slow motion, his heart stuttering before picking up as you smile up at him and rise, stepping up onto the curb so the valet can take the car. This brings you into his space and his brain goes foggy at the smell of your perfume, his free hand coming up to your waist as if on instinct. 

It doesn’t stay for long as you step past him, pulling him to the gilded glass doors of the restaurant. You’ve only come here once as it’s rather expensive, but the food is incredible and apparently the cocktails are too. Wonwoo isn’t much of a drinker but he may indulge in a glass of red wine tonight, especially as he’s planning on steak. 

He tugs the heavy door open, following you in and stopping at the host’s desk. 

“We have a reservation for 6:30, Jeon Wonwoo,” he waits as the host looks up his name, holding his breath until the host smiles and swipes two menus and sets of silverware from the desk. 

“Right this way,” they smile and turn to lead them through a sea of tables. Wonwoo lets you go first, still holding tightly to your hand as your heels click on the marble in front of him. 

The table is in a nice spot, a corner booth that's actually quite secluded, and you beam excitedly at him as you slide into your side. 

Discussion of what to order begins, with you debating between steak, pasta, and just ordering four appetizers. Wonwoo already knows what he wants so he can devote his focus to helping you choose, though he wants to tell you to just get everything. You’d probably be scandalized by that, especially because this is the kind of restaurant where the menu doesn’t have prices. 

In the end, you order pasta and he convinces you to get two appetizers as well, tacking onto his order the other two you wanted. You glower at him half heartedly but squeeze his hand in thanks, already perusing the drink menu. 

Wonwoo and you are both lightweights, so it’s likely you’ll only get one and he’s sure you want to choose the best. He already ordered his glass of wine, asking the server for a recommendation that would pair well with the steak and that had a relatively low alcohol percentage. 

Wonwoo used to fear you’d run out of things to talk about considering how much time you spend together, but there’s always something to discuss. Some work gossip or scandal in the streaming world to share, plans for the future to draw out, nonsense debates to pass the time that almost never have a winner or a loser. 

He’s generally a quiet person unless you get him going or activate the small part of him that’s a little maniacal, but he hasn’t been quiet with you since the beginning, since you asked if you were annoying him with all your ‘chatter’. He made an effort to engage and respond after, and now, it doesn’t even take any thought. Now, talking to you is as easy as breathing is (when you’re not around, at least). 

The appetizers arrive, you order your cocktail, and before he knows it, mains are being delivered. His steak is perfectly cooked, tender and pink and flavorful, and the sound you make when you take a bite of your pasta is absolutely sinful. It has him thinking thoughts that do not need to be thought in public, has him remembering things that are not conducive to him looking at you and keeping his free hand to himself. 

It’s relatively quiet while you eat, just sprinkles of conversation between bites, you holding out a forkful of your pasta for him to try and him reciprocating with a small piece of steak. You hum in delight and so does he, grinning at the way your shoulders wiggle when you get a particularly tasty bite. 

You’re both too full for dessert and he’s got some waiting for you at home anyway, so when you both finish eating, all the server brings is the bill. He’s sure you’re both itching to peek at the total and distressed at the thought of finding out so he keeps it close to his chest, freeing his hand from yours to get his wallet out of his pocket. He slips his black card into the folder and places it on his side of the table, nodding when you rise and tell him you’re going to freshen up. 

You’ve only been gone a minute when his phone pings, so he figures he has enough time to answer it before you get back. He smooths his face out, letting the phone read it and unlock before going to his messages. 

Oddly enough, it’s from you. 

And it’s a picture? 

Unsuspectingly, he opens it, gasping at what he finds and slamming his phone face down on the table before anyone else can see the screen. 

“Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god, oh my god,” he mutters under his breath, forcing a smile when the server picks up the bill and rearranging the napkin on his lap as his dick stirs. Even with his eyes open, he can still see the picture. 

Can see you, the straps of your dress down by your elbows and one arm hugging your waist under your breasts, pushing them up for him. Your skin was radiant, the necklace he got you for your three month anniversary resting gently on your collarbones, and your nipples were pebbled, hard (was it cold or did you touch them? fuck, he hopes you touched them). 

The server arrives with his credit card and you still haven't returned, so he wills his cock to stop thickening and stands, checking over the table to be sure you haven’t left anything before walking to the front of the restaurant. 

Wonwoo | u are evil evil evil 

Wonwoo | need them in my mouth

Wonwoo | im by the front btw

He hears heels clicking on the marble behind him and doesn’t need to turn to know it’s you, doesn’t even jump when your arm weaves around his, though he does briefly let his eyes flutter shut when he feels the warm press of your breast against his arm. God and now he knows you’re not wearing a bra…

It takes all of his strength just to take a step forward, and another after that, until somehow he makes it to the valet stand, reaching into his wallet for the ticket before handing it to the waiting employee. You shiver, stepping closer to him when a cool breeze sweeps through, and Wonwoo kicks himself for not bringing a coat. 

He’s a bit chilly too so he can barely offer you any warmth but he frees his arm and wraps you up against his side anyway, Mingyu’s car pulling up after just a minute or two. The valet leaves the driver’s side door open and jogs around, accepting the cash Wonwoo slips him as a tip before dropping the keys in his open hand and giving him a nod. 

Wonwoo opens your door with his free hand, gently shutting it after you’ve climbed in and gotten settled. He takes large steps around the car, sinking into his side and shifting into drive before slowly pulling away from the restaurant. 

He heads towards his apartment instead of yours - you like sleeping over at his place more because he has a nicer bed - and rather than holding your hand, he holds your thigh, your flesh warm through the thin silk of your dress. 

The drive is tense, quiet, his fingers tightening on the wheel as your thigh flexes under his hand, your legs pressing together, trapping it. He’s not bold enough to work it higher and he needs to focus on driving anyway, but that doesn’t mean his mind isn’t full of thoughts of sliding it up, finding you wet and wanting, bringing you to the edge and then pulling away, over and over until he turns into his parking spot. 

Which happens before he expects it to, his brain so preoccupied that he didn’t even notice the time passing. He shifts into park and exits the car, his hand feeling cold where it used to be touching you, before running to get your door and help you out of the car. He takes a second to grab your overnight bag from the back before accepting the hand you hold out and letting you tug him to the door. 

His keycard grants him access, the door unlocking with a click as he wraps his free hand around the handle, pulling it open and following you inside. It’s hard not to stare at you as you walk, at the slope of your nearly bare shoulder, the curve of your waist, the bounce of your ass, and there’s no reason not to, which is just one of the many privileges of being your boyfriend. 

Another comes after he’s gotten you into his apartment, your heels slipped off and your arms wrapped around his neck as you kiss him for all he’s worth. 

AN: Happy Valentine's Day!!! lowkey for my bestie @sluttywonwoo ily you're the only valentine i need 💖sorry for the fade to black, i do plan on continuing this! i just had to scrap my other idea and i wrote most of this today so my brain is tired, i hope u understand 🫶

Part II

[gay-dorito-dust]

Could I request Welt, Dan Heng, Sunday, Gepard, and Argenti finding their s/o's poetry collection of them?

Argenti:

Would sit himself down somewhere nearby and read every last poem, each one leaving him with a full heart, butterflies in his stomach and another addition to the list of reasons why he adored your creative soul.

He’s extremely honoured that you decided to chose him as your muse for your poems, for he could feel the love and respect you have for him through your writing, before holding the collections of poetry made in his name against his chest as he beamed with happiness.

He’d even openly praise you for your works if he were to see you later on in the day, which would make you understandably upset and embarrassed that he went through your things, but with the way that he passionately talked about your writing and the look upon his face that clearly shown his appreciation and admiration for poetry.

At the end you’re the one who ends up being flustered whilst Argenti was still sending appraisal after appraisal your way, all the while re-reading your works and proudly reciting his favourite passages without shame.

Sunday:

He thought it was sweet that you write poetry about him.

He didn’t feel as though he was invading your privacy at all, seeing as how he’d like to claim that whatever of yours was now also his by osmosis…totally not because he’s fishing for stuff to hold over you and maintain control should you act out…

Anyway- he’s taking his sweet time reading each and every poem you’ve written with him in mind and smiling at the hold he’s taken within your heart, finding it fascinating what adoration could make one do just to express their whole array of emotions.

It was almost as though they were on some timer that others couldn’t see just to express all their innermost feelings towards the special person in their life. Then again love tended to make people feel as though they were invincible, so the unthinkable and accomplish things that they never thought that they were capable of achieving in the first place.

So it didn’t matter whether or not you were able to wax poetry before him, but it was obvious to Sunday that the moment he had taken hold of your life and your every thought, poetry has became your primary outlet for feelings that you weren’t nearly brave enough to say aloud to him. Rest assured however for that day will come for you to open up about those unspoken feelings of yours…sooner or later.

Gepard:

He feels as though he was invading your privacy by reading your poetry collection and wanted to leave before he’d inevitably get caught, but just as he was about to take his leave, he stopped when the title of the first poem caught his eye;

Everlasting winter

He found himself reading through the first few opening sentences and immeditly made connections between himself and the person within your poem. To say it didn’t take long for Gepard to realises that the similarities between him and the person in your poem were purely intentional, and that he was the one the poem was actual about.

His face was blossoming red upon the realisation and averted his eyes elsewhere as he takes in the fact that you found him a perfect enough muse for your poetry. Him, the man who couldn’t hold a tune to save his life, grows flowers that unfortunately don’t last long, and wasn’t possessed with the basic skills of drawing.

And yet you found something about him that was worth writing poem after poem about. He didn’t know why that was but he was appreciative that you found something in him that urged you into written it down on paper, where your affection and admiration for him would be forever immortalised…He also may or may not have taken a poem to read to himself later on at night.

Dan heng:

He had noticed that you left a piece of paper laying about one day and was about to call out to you and give it back, while scolding you for leaving your messes everywhere for him to pick up after, only to see that it was in fact a poem about him.

Red faced, Dan Heng still planned on taking the poem back to you and journeyed to your room where he found that the door was left ajar, but could immeditly tell that your room was empty. Sighing, Dan Heng opened the door and quickly made his way towards your desk, where’d he found more poems in regards to him.

Much like Gepard, Dan Heng felt as though he was reading something he shouldn’t but he found himself unable to look away as he was secretly tempted to know how you viewed him. What he found was nothing short of you portraying him in a way that he’s never quite thought of himself before. If he wasn’t already so easily made flustered by your words alone, your writing was enough to put the poor man into a catatonic state.

Dan Heng wasn’t use to being smothered in a love like yours. Where you felt as though speaking your love for him wasn’t nearly enough, so you had to expand and start writing it instead in the form of poetry. He doesn’t feel as though he’s deserving of it but isn’t going to look a gift horse in the mouth and is more then willing to try to accept the fact that you care deeply for him; especially when he can not find it within him to find anything about him remotely worth being with.

Welt:

He’s made copious amounts of drawings of you that he’s kept hidden in his room. So upon coming across your poetry collection about him, it only made him feel more comfortable knowing that he wasn’t the only one to express his innermost feelings through an art form.

Besides it wasn’t like he was actively searching your room for your poetry collection, he really wasn’t as he just came across them out of pure coincidence. He was currently about four poetries deep and was finding it extremely endearing how you viewed him in most of your writing: which was mainly as an well educated, wise man with a young man’s heart and restlessness sense for adventure, who had a talent for drawing.

Welt would chuckle under his breath at all the moments you’ve shared together, before you’d then went on to write about how beautiful he was in every possible way. From his sweet, insightful eyes that seemingly held all the knowledge you could ever ask for, to his calming, velvety voice that could lull you into a deep sleep within seconds.

You posed him as this figure of comfort, a figure of warmth and Welt soon finding himself not so subtly sneaking some of your poetry into his pocket to read for later. Your poetry only gives Welt the confidence he been looking for, as he would then starts to leave his drawings of you in places where you’d be able to see them; all in hopes that you would know that you had just as much of a huge place in his heart as he did in yours.

[aphroditelovesu]

Can I ask for Yandere love letter from Julius Caesar and Alexander the Great to a preggo reader? ❤️

Julius Caesar

My beloved (Y/N),

Words can barely express the depth of my feelings for you. From the moment our eyes met, my life has been filled with an overwhelming passion that consumes my being. Seeing you bring forth the life within you, a fruit of our love, is a testament to the beauty of life and the connection we share.

Maybe I'm a little emotional, but can you blame me?

My love, the idea of ​​you carrying our child awakens in me a protective instinct like I've never experienced before. Every beat of our baby's heart resounds in harmony with mine, creating an unbreakable bond between the three of us. I promise to take care of you and our child with all the love and dedication I have in my heart.

The mere idea of ​​someone threatening our future together is enough to incite an irrational desire to protect you at all costs. Know that although my affection may seem excessive, it is a reflection of what you represent to me: the light of my life and the foundation of my existence.

As the days turn into weeks and the womb you carry expands with the promise of a new beginning, I reaffirm my devotion to you. The future may be uncertain, but what is unquestionable is the love we share and the family we are building together. May our journey be full of love, passion and protection that only a a man in love can offer.

With all my love,

Julius Caesar.

Alexander the Great

My heart and soul,

From the moment you came into my life, my world changed irrevocably. You are the light that illuminates my darkest days and the strength that drives me to conquer even more distant horizons. Now, as you carry our heir within you, my devotion to you reaches a new height.

Every beat of your heart is a symphony that echoes in my soul, reminding me of the unbreakable love we shared. The sight of you carrying our child awakens in me a fierce desire to protect and love you at all costs. No one will dare to threaten the happiness we've built, as I'm willing to take on the whole world to make sure you're safe and loved.

I will destroy cities and slaughter everyone if it means your happiness.

My queen, every twinge of jealousy I feel is but a reflection of the love that burns within me. The thought of anyone else looking at or touching or breathing the same air as you is enough to ignite my protective instincts. Please know that all my actions are motivated by a deep desire to keep you safe and to ensure a bright future for our family.

As we await our child's arrival, I promise to be by your side, watching over you with the devotion of a lover and the determination of a leader who has dominated nations. Together, we are unstoppable, and our family will be a legend that will echo through the ages.

With everlasting love,

Alexander.

[foranpo]

ੈ˚☆ 10:21pm.

˚ʚ b.stray.dogs. ˚ʚ ranpo. ˚ʚ fluff.

ੈ♡˳────── enjoy the reading <3 ──────

Ranpo caressed your face, the lightness of his touch cradling you in a symphony of comfort and passion. There was security wrapped around his fingertips, an unspoken promise of everlasting love.

It was rare such act coming from him. Not just because of the grace of his movement, but because of Ranpo's initiative. It was him who brought his fingers to your face with the uncertainty of a stray cat. It was him who caressed your skin with the tenderness of the first rays of spring sun. It was Ranpo by himself, and himself only, who decided to give you a little more affection and comfort.

"I think I could get used to this."

You let out a small laugh to ease your words, a little nervous at Ranpo's reaction, never quite sure how he might act to your displays of affection.

He was complex, indeed. Never saying much and showing even less. It was complicated reading Ranpo, trying to understand what was on his mind, heart, soul. He wouldn't give you any clues, always too afraid to show too much, always too afraid of getting hurt in a situation neither of you had any control over.

But that night was different. That night, Ranpo made the first move when he called you to his house. That night, Ranpo ignored his fear by asking you to lie down next to him. That night, Ranpo was ready to shed all his fears and insecurities.

That's why he let your words roam around his room, settling between drawers and books, allowing them to know his room, as if it were theirs, as if it were yours.

The silence was ethereal. Flooding the room in a sea of tranquility with waves of serenity, that silence was like a blanket for you, covering you, protecting you, uniting you. Ranpo's thumb continued to caress your face, his eyes memorizing, once again, every feature and imperfection of your face, your hearts beating as one.

You didn't know what paradise meant or how it was constituted, but that night, lulled by Ranpo's affection, you could have sworn you were in paradise.

"I..."

Ranpo spoke quietly. Bizarre. He spoke almost in a whisper, as if confessing a secret to you, afraid that someone else would hear him, even though it was just the two of you at his house.

"I... Hm..."

Ranpo was nervous. Strange. He searched within himself for dialogues read in books and repeated in films, something that would help him articulate what was really in his soul at that moment.

"I think... Hm."

Ranpo took a deep breath before speaking again. Clearly. With the certainty and conviction that was characteristic of him and that you loved so much.

"I think I can love you."

Pause.

Silence.

Doubt.

"I think I'm willing to love you."

Pause.

Silence.

Uncertainty.

"I think I love you."

Pause.

Silence.

Realization.

Ranpo had stopped caressing your face, the night had stopped being silent and, in the middle of the paradise of Ranpo's room, you realized the words he had said to you. The secret he declaimed to you. The confession he entrusted you.

A confirmation of love.

A memory of stories lived.

A promise of eternal tenderness.

ੈ♡˳───── feedback is appreciated <3 ─────

[mononijikayu]

nightingale — geto suguru.

In the midst of a fragrant garden ablaze with the intoxicating scent of flowers, they found themselves ensnared in a tender embrace, their whispered words of love and adoration mingling with the heady perfume of blossoms. Each declaration melted her heart a little more, filling her with a sense of warmth and belonging that she had never known before. With each gentle kiss that he pressed against her skin, they were drawn together like magnets, their bodies moving in perfect harmony as though they were two halves of a whole, united in a love that knew no bounds.

GENRE: Greek Mythology AU!

WARNING/s: Romance, First Love, Fluff/Hurt, Hurt/Comfort, Pining, Grief, Mourning, Death, Mild Smut, Depiction of Sex, Depiction of Death, Depiction of Grief, Reminiscing, Reincarnation;

masterlist

listen: nightingale by norah jones

note: this a rewriting of my work previously but i missed suguru and wanted to write about him and here we are, 11k words long. its my little gift before going on a short hiatus for law exams~ i love you all!!!

SHE WAS CERTAIN THAT SHE DOES NOT UNDERSTAND LOVE AT ALL. She held steadfast the truth: love had never eluded her. The goddess, adorned with affection from her inception, was hailed the instant she graced the world. From within her very being, love's resplendent echoes cascaded, born of two souls who dared defy the world's confines, weaving a tapestry of eternal devotion. After all, she was the daughter of Cupid and Psyche. A goddess of such sensual pleasure. She knew what that warmth of touch meant.

In her every breath, love whispered her timeless melody, painting her existence with hues of passion and devotion. Adorned with the essence of adoration, she danced through life's symphony, each step a testament to the boundless affection that surrounded her. For she was not merely a recipient of love's grace, but a beacon, illuminating the path for all who sought its embrace. And in the tapestry of destiny, woven by the hands of fate, her story intertwined with those who dared to love fiercely, forging bonds that defied the constraints of time and space. Thus, in the eternal dance of love, she found her solace, her purpose, her everlasting home.

The goddess was keenly aware of the affection bestowed upon her by mortals. Adorned with the most exquisite offerings at her temple altars, she sensed a profound connection to those who revered her. Yet, despite her divine status, she recognized a shared humanity with her worshipers. In moments of reflection, as she heeded the prayers of the common folk, she found herself drawn to their desires and uncertainties, feeling a kinship that blurred the lines between deity and mortal. Yearning to unravel the mysteries of love, she longed to experience its essence firsthand—to be enveloped in the warm embrace of another, to lose herself in the intoxicating depths of love's embrace.

As the goddess observed her parents' tender gazes and exchanged whispers of adoration, a gentle envy stirred within her. They seemed to embody the very essence of wonder, locked in a world of their own creation, where their love spoke a language known only to them. They inhabited an island of love, secluded in their devotion to each other. Yet, amidst their affectionate bond, the goddess found herself questioning the nature of her own duty to love. Unable to experience or comprehend it herself, she pondered the true meaning of this elusive emotion.

In the midst of her contemplation, the goddess felt a longing tug at her heart—a yearning to understand the depths of love that eluded her grasp. She watched her parents with a mix of admiration and curiosity, wondering what it must be like to be consumed by such profound affection. Despite her divine stature, she found herself humbled by the complexity of human emotions, grappling with the paradox of her own existence. For while she was revered by mortals as a symbol of love, she remained estranged from its intimate embrace.

Yet, even in her solitude, the goddess harbored a flicker of hope—a belief that perhaps one day she too would unlock the secrets of love's mysteries. With each passing moment, she grew more determined to unravel its enigmatic allure, to bridge the chasm between her divine essence and the tender emotions that danced within mortal hearts. And so, amidst the whispers of adoration that filled the air, the goddess embarked on a journey of self-discovery—a quest to find the true meaning of love and, in doing so, to transcend the boundaries of her own existence.

Occasionally, she finds her youth to be a fleeting thing, slipping through her fingers like grains of sand. She's well aware of its capricious nature, how it can both uplift and burden her. The goddess finds solace in witnessing her parents immersed in their mutual adoration, yet beneath her admiration lies a lingering ache. The solitude of her divine existence weighs heavily upon her, a constant reminder of the emptiness beside her. She longs for a companion who can share in her joys and understand her sorrows, someone worthy of standing by her side as she seeks solace in the answers to her grief.

In the depths of her being, a tumult of emotions stirred ceaselessly. A profound longing lay entrenched within her, echoing like the thunderous roar of Zeus's lightning across the heavens, yearning to be acknowledged and understood. Why must she be denied such desires? Other deities in her midst grappled with their own complexities of love and devotion, yet she remained confined within this cage of yearning—to belong to someone's secluded haven, to grasp the essence of being the bestower of joy and affection.

Her father had always treasured her as the living embodiment of his and Psyche's boundless love. As their only child, she was a precious gift, a testament to the depth of their affection for each other. The thought of parting with her filled his heart with an overwhelming sense of sorrow and apprehension. He couldn't bear the idea of losing her to the passage of time, to the inevitable growth and transformation that awaited her on the journey into adulthood.

Yet, deep down, she knew that she couldn't remain under her parents' protective wing forever. As much as her father cherished her, she understood that there comes a time when every child must spread their wings and venture out into the world on their own. She could see the struggle in her father's eyes, the reluctance to let go of the little girl he still saw in her, even as she blossomed into a young woman.

Despite the pain it caused her father,  the goddess knew that she needed to assert her independence and forge her own path in life. She recognized that true living required taking risks, embracing the unknown, and charting a course toward her own destiny. And so, with a mixture of determination and trepidation, she resolved to pursue her dreams and aspirations, even if it meant venturing into uncharted territory.

“One day, I’ll be free to know what its like to.” She whispers to herself under her breath, looking at her mother and father. “I’ll know what love is too.”

THAT DAY CAME SOONER THAN SHE WAS PREPARED FOR. As Cupid and Psyche departed for the Temple of Venus, leaving their daughter behind in the care of the Gratiae, a sense of longing and sadness filled the air. Cupid's reluctance to part with his daughter was evident in the way he held her close, his gaze lingering on her as though trying to etch her image into his memory. Similarly, Psyche cradled her daughter in her arms, her touch gentle and loving as always.

Despite their deep love for their daughter, Cupid and Psyche knew that they were still gods. People had relied upon them.They had to fulfill their duties and obligations, even if it meant being separated from their beloved daughter. The Temple of Venus, nestled in the remote mountainous forests where mortals were forbidden to tread, was a place of great importance to Cupid's mother. 

Soon after, they would accompany Venus and her retinue towards the home of the gods, in Mount Olympus. That was much more of a concern to them. It was too much for their beloved daughter. It was a short trip, one that would fly by soon. As far as Cupid and Psyche were concerned, they would return sooner or later to be with their beloved child again.

"Father, why do you not take me with you to visit grandmother?" the goddess questioned, her silk shawl slipping from her elbows. Cupid's lips formed a flat line, while Psyche's eyes widened with fear as she prepared the chariot. "I am a goddess, am I not? Do I not have the right to visit the place within the league of blood and kin? Do I not have a place there too?"

"I love you, my child," Cupid responded, his eyes gleaming with devotion as his fingers cupped his child's cheek. "But you know the reason as to why we cannot bring you along with us."

"I know so, but I am no longer a child—"

"You will always be a child to us," her father insisted, shaking his head and taking a deep breath. "And just as much, we cannot part with you. Not when you echo all of our love in your very being, daughter."

"Your father and I just wish to protect you, my dear," her mother, Psyche, added as she walked towards her, taking hold of her hand. "There are many there that I cannot trust with your well-being. I cannot bear to see harm upon you, daughter. Neither can your father. You know this."

The goddess knew whom her mother speaks of.

She shudders at the thought.

The memory of the incident echoes still.

In the dawn of her parents' youth, this event left an indelible mark on their souls, seared into the very fabric of their existence. Life within the Caelum was fraught with challenges, where every inch of space was claimed by powerful gods and goddesses who brooked no opposition. They held sway with an unyielding dominance, leaving little room for others to find footing.

For Cupid, the prospect of returning to the Caelum and introducing Psyche to his family was fraught with dread. He couldn't shake the worry that gnawed at him, haunted by memories of his mother's treatment of Psyche. How could he not fear the repercussions of such a reunion?

Cupid counted himself fortunate that Psyche had chosen to remain by his side, committed to their union despite the challenges they faced. However, he was keenly aware of the voracious appetite for power that lurked within the hearts of the other gods. Psyche, with her ethereal beauty—silver hair cascading like a waterfall, eyes sparkling like the stars—was a prize coveted by many.

Despite Psyche's reluctance, Cupid knew they couldn't avoid facing his family forever. Resigned to the inevitable, he resolved to confront them and fulfill the obligations expected of them. With a heavy heart, Cupid escorted Psyche to the Caelum, where they were greeted once more by the gods and goddesses. As expected, the overwhelming presence of his family only served to unsettle Psyche, leaving her besieged by their constant attention.

In the midst of the grand spectacle orchestrated by the gods to win Psyche's favor, Cupid seethed with anger, his heart heavy with frustration and indignation. Each deity vied for Psyche's attention, showering her with extravagant displays of affection and lavish gifts, all in an attempt to win her favor.

Apollo serenaded his wife with melodies extolling her beauty and grace, while Neptune presented her with the most exquisite pearl from the depths of the ocean, a token of his undying devotion. Meanwhile, Mercury whisked Psyche away to enchanting locales, captivating her with the wonders of the world.

Mars, fueled by his competitive spirit, engaged in fierce duels with Apollo and Neptune, determined to prove himself worthy of Psyche's admiration. Even Jupiter, the mighty king of the gods, joined the fray, painting the skies with breathtaking displays of cosmic wonder.

Amidst the chaos, Cupid stood resolute, his fury boiling over as he witnessed the discomfort inflicted upon his beloved Psyche. He vowed not to return until the gods ceased their relentless pursuit of her affections, declaring that he would sooner wage war against them than see her suffer.

It was Minerva who ultimately intervened, chastising her fellow gods for their foolishness and selfish motives. She reminded them that Psyche was happily wedded to Cupid, and their ostentatious displays of affection were driven not by love, but by a desire for conquest and control.

For the goddess, the concept of love and marriage among gods and goddesses held little significance. It was a realm of existence where power and dominance reigned supreme, where love was often overshadowed by ambition and desire. Yet, amidst the tumultuous landscape of divine affairs, her father Cupid stood as a beacon of unwavering devotion to his beloved Psyche.

Cupid's love for Psyche transcended the boundaries of divine politics and power struggles. He had risked everything, defying his own mother for the sake of their love. To him, Psyche was the epitome of truth and beauty, worth more than any earthly or celestial possession.

When their daughter was born, Cupid harbored a deep-seated fear that she would one day fall victim to the machinations of the gods. He desired nothing more than for her to find a love as pure and devoted as his own for Psyche, to be cherished and adored by someone who would prioritize her happiness above all else.

The goddess couldn't help but feel a twinge of frustration and resignation at the harsh reality of her parents' words. She understood the importance of finding true love amidst the chaos of the divine realm, yet she couldn't shake the feeling of apprehension at the thought of navigating the treacherous waters of love and devotion in a world ruled by power and ambition.

"I understand," she murmured softly, her voice tinged with disappointment. "But I cannot help but feel confined, tethered to the safety of these walls while the world beyond beckons to me."

Cupid's gaze softened as he placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. "One day, my child," he said gently, "when the time is right, you will spread your wings and soar beyond these walls. But for now, trust in us to keep you safe."

Psyche squeezed her daughter's hand reassuringly. "We love you more than anything, my dear," she whispered, her eyes shining with maternal affection. "And until that day comes, know that you will always have a home here, surrounded by our love and protection."

As her parents prepared to depart for their journey to visit her grandmother, the goddess couldn't help but feel a pang of longing in her heart. The prospect of being left behind, even temporarily, filled her with a sense of loneliness that she struggled to shake off.

Yet, as her father reassured her with his comforting words, a glimmer of hope flickered within her. She knew that their separation was only temporary, that they would return to her side as swiftly as the winds that caressed her cheeks.

With a bittersweet smile, the goddess pressed a tender kiss upon her father's cheek and embraced her mother tightly. "Safe travels, father, mother," she whispered softly, her voice tinged with a hint of sadness. "May Caelus, Terra, and Dies watch over you on your journey."

Her father returned her embrace, his gaze filled with warmth and affection. "And you, daughter," he replied, his voice gentle yet firm. "Take care of yourself while we are away. Listen to the Gratiae and let them guide you in our absence."

With a final nod of farewell, her parents boarded the chariot and began their journey, leaving the goddess standing alone in the quiet solitude of their chambers. As she watched them depart, she couldn't help but feel a sense of uncertainty mingled with determination. She would heed her father's advice and trust in the guidance of the Gratiae, knowing that her parents would return to her side before long.

As her parents vanished into the vast expanse of the skies, the goddess heaved a sigh, feeling the weight of their absence settle upon her shoulders. With a heavy heart, she retreated into the solitude of their manse, finding solace amidst the lush beauty of the garden that her father had lovingly crafted for her mother.

Each flower, a testament to their enduring love, whispered stories of devotion and union that spanned the ages. The goddess couldn't help but smile as she traced her fingers along the delicate petals, feeling a sense of peace wash over her in the tranquil embrace of nature's embrace.

As she gazed out of the window, the sight of the Gratiae seated together on a bench near the fountain greeted her. Thalia, the eldest of the Gratiae and goddess of wealth, flashed a radiant grin in her direction. It was a smile that seemed to carry the gleam of gold, reflecting her divine domain. "Let's play, come!" Thalia called out eagerly. "Our father's gift has arrived—little ships made of gold!"

But Euphrosyne, the goddess of joy, interjected with a note of concern. "Sister, lower your voice! Can't you see? The goddess wears her worries like a cloak."

"Why the sadness, dear goddess?" Aglaia, the youngest of the Gratiae, inquired softly, casting a glance at her sisters. "What can we do to lift her spirits, sisters?"

"Think quickly!" Thalia urged, rising to her feet. "What can we do?"

"Perhaps Poena has made her cry, or maybe Febris has made her sick," Euphrosyne speculated aloud.

"Poena and Febris wouldn't dare cause distress to the goddess," Aglaia remarked with a smile. "There must be another reason."

At times, she marveled at how her grandmother fared with these three as her constant companions. Yet, deep down, she knew their intentions were pure.

"The goddess!" Thalia called out again, breaking her reverie.

As she was about to respond to the call of the Gratiae, a vibrant glint caught her eye, drawing her attention to the ornate mirror adorning the wall. Intrigued, the goddess approached, her brow furrowing with curiosity. The mirror shimmered with a pristine gleam, reflecting the radiance of her temple. Its white stone façade contrasted beautifully against the golden rays of the sun, casting a spellbinding aura.

Located on a small isle in Via Nova near Porta Romana, her temple stood as a testament to her divine presence. Within its hallowed halls, her resplendent statue commanded reverence, adorned in garments painted with graceful hues and embellished with intricate gold reliefs. And there, kneeling before her likeness, was a man.

“Goddess, oh goddess!” A man with dark hair and purple eyes cried pitifully at her altar. “I am praying at your feet, longing that you answer my suffering, goddess, oh goddess! My beloved left me for another. God, oh goddess, give me joy so that I can go through this life without remorse or sorrow. Let me be happy, goddess or goddess!”

As the man with dark hair and purple eyes cried out pitifully at her altar, pouring out his heartache and longing for solace, the goddess couldn't help but feel a pang of empathy pierce her divine essence. His pleas echoed in the sacred space, reverberating with the raw intensity of his suffering.

Her heart swelled with pity as she gazed upon the distraught mortal, his anguish palpable in every tear that fell. Why must mortals endure such pain? What had this man done to deserve such heartbreak? With a furrowed brow and a heavy heart, the goddess clenched her fists, her desire to alleviate his suffering burning fiercely within her.

But he was not alone in his sorrow. Others followed, each sharing their own tales of loss and longing, their voices blending into a chorus of anguish that resonated throughout the temple. The weight of their collective grief pressed upon her, urging her to take action.

With a determined resolve, the goddess tore her gaze away from the mirror and hastened to the stables. Without hesitation, she prepared her chariot, harnessing her steed with practiced efficiency. With a silent command, she descended from the heavens, her divine presence descending into the mortal realm to offer solace to those in need.

As Thalia tried to call out once more for the goddess, her voice echoing through the empty space, there was no response. Confusion clouded their expressions as they pondered the sudden disappearance of their divine companion.

"Perhaps Poena paid a visit," Aglaia suggested, her voice tinged with uncertainty. "Or maybe she's simply attending to her own needs. She'll return soon enough, I'm sure of it."

Euphrosyne, ever the optimist, clapped her hands excitedly, eager to divert their attention. "Let's not dwell on it! Come, let's play with Father's gift!"

But the goddess was not attending to personal matters or playing with gifts.

Instead, with a resolute determination burning within her, she commanded her steed to carry her across the skies, venturing into the mortal realm for the first time in her immortal existence.

SHE DIDN’T KNOW WHAT TO EXPECT. The goddess, unfamiliar with the mortal realm, quickly returned her chariot of horses to her palace upon her arrival. Understanding the danger that her divine form posed to mortal eyes, she took swift action to transform herself into the guise of a mortal woman. Gods and goddesses bore such immense magical power within their beings that the mere sight of them could be fatal to mortals. The goddess could not bear the thought of inadvertently causing harm, and so she fashioned a mortal form for herself with her own hands.

Once transformed, the goddess set out for the bustling heart of human life—the city. Everywhere she looked, there was an abundance of activity and vitality, with people bustling about their daily lives, engaged in laughter, song, and commerce. The sensation of the wind against her skin and the warmth of the sun above filled her with a sense of delight.

With a bright smile adorning her mortal face, the goddess greeted those she passed along the way, relishing in the simple joys of human interaction. However, her enthusiasm got the better of her, and in her excitement, she failed to notice the passing carriage, a momentary lapse of judgment reminding her that even gods could be prone to folly.

"Watch out!" a voice cried out, jolting the goddess from her reverie. She lifted her gaze, eyes widening in shock at the sight before her. Caught off guard by the sudden warning, she found herself immobilized, unable to react in time. Desperately, she attempted to summon magic from her hands, only to hesitate. Revealing her powers would betray her presence. "Move, my lady!"

‘What should I do?’

In that moment, she felt another's arms enveloping her, pulling her to safety just as the carriage careened past, crashing into the wall in a deafening cacophony. Gasping for breath, she felt the world go silent around her. Fear gripped her, trembling as she struggled to regain her bearings. For the first time, she felt the weight of powerlessness coursing through her veins.

"Are you alright, my lady?" Sound rushed back, and she found herself gazing into eyes as deep and warm as the night sky. They held a vitality she had never witnessed before, a spark that seemed to transcend mortal life. "Please, tell me! Are you safe, are you unhurt?"

The goddess found herself speechless, her cheeks flushing crimson with embarrassment. In that moment, the man realized the impact of his actions and hastily retreated, giving her space to compose herself under the watchful gaze of the sun. A crowd began to form around them, curious onlookers seeking answers about the chaotic scene. Concerned voices inquired about their well-being, but neither the goddess nor the man responded, their focus solely on each other.

With a sense of urgency, the man extended his hand to the goddess, eager to assist her to her feet. Swallowing the lump in her throat, the goddess reluctantly accepted his gesture, her hand trembling slightly as it met his.

‘Even his hand is warm.’ She murmurs to herself.

As the man extended his hand, the goddess's mind raced with fragments of memories, pieces of a puzzle falling into place with startling clarity. She couldn't shake the feeling of familiarity that washed over her, a sense of connection that transcended mere chance. In the midst of the chaos, amidst the concerned murmurs of the crowd, she found herself drawn to him in a way she couldn't fully explain.

At that moment, it clicked. She remembered him—the man who had knelt before her altar in his time of need, his heart laid bare in an act of vulnerability that had touched her deeply. The memory flooded back, vivid and unmistakable, like a beacon in the storm of confusion.

He had been broken, yes, but also kind—so achingly kind. And now, here he stood, extending a hand to help her, his sincerity shining through in every gesture. The goddess felt a warmth spread through her at the realization. His kindness had not been fleeting or superficial; it was woven into the very fabric of his being, an intrinsic part of who he was.

The goddess blinked, shaken by the intensity of the moment and the concern in the stranger's eyes. She struggled to find her voice, her mind still reeling from the near miss.

"I... I think so," she managed to stammer, her voice barely above a whisper. "Thank you... for saving me."

The stranger's expression softened with relief, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "It was nothing, my lady. I couldn't just stand by and watch you come to harm."

"I'm alright, sir," she murmured, her voice trembling with nerves, unsure of what to say to the young man. "Thank you for saving me."

"You're most welcome. We all strive to do right by our gods, showing kindness and gentleness in our actions," he replied earnestly. "Though we never know if they'll grace us with their presence."

A soft laugh escaped the goddess's lips at his words, for she herself was among the deities who visited their realm. Generosity was indeed a customary virtue, lest one wished to incur a god's wrath.

"Yes," she affirmed softly.

"Come, come with me," the man urged, his smile radiant as the night sky adorned with twin stars. "I'll fetch you some hot wine and food to settle your nerves. Perhaps restore some of your strength, my lady. You've been through something dreadful."

"W-wait, I don't know you," the goddess stammered, her uncertainty palpable.

"And I don't know you either," the man replied warmly, his eyes alight with genuine joy. "But as I mentioned, kindness towards all is a virtue the gods would surely approve of."

"What... what is your name?" she inquired, her curiosity piqued.

"I am Suguru," he declared with a joyful flourish. "Musician to the king of this realm. And you, young lady, who are you?"

"I'm—" She caught herself, refraining from revealing her true identity. Instead, she offered a human alias. His eyes sparkled with curiosity as his smile broadened.

"My lady, I'm delighted to make your acquaintance," Suguru said, his voice brimming with sincerity.

He looked so handsome like this, she thinks.

Too beautiful for his own good, it hurts.

Her hand rested on her chest.

She could feel her heart beating.

SHE MUST HAVE STARED AT HIM FOR ALL THAT TIME. It had been an ideal day for travel by foot, with the clouds providing a welcomed shield from the sun and a gentle breeze keeping the air pleasantly cool. They made their way to Suguru's residence, situated in the farthest reaches of the city. His home stood in the bustling outskirts near the market center, where the lively atmosphere filled the air. Children darted around, engaged in games of hide and seek, while mothers busied themselves with household chores.

Upon arrival, they found Suguru's dwelling to be modest yet inviting. As a musician, his earnings were dependent on the favor of nobles and kings, and he had been fortunate enough to capture the attention of the newly crowned king. Entering the small room, they found a simple layout: a small bed nestled against the wide window, a compact lavatory, and a small kitchen area with produce stored in closed pots. A solitary table occupied the center of the room, with a lone chair positioned nearby.

In the simplicity of Suguru's abode, there existed a warmth that transcended the mere physical confines of the space. It was a sanctuary amidst the chaos of modern life, a haven where tranquility and comfort reigned supreme. As the goddess traversed the modest rooms, her senses were greeted by the gentle fragrance of grassy moss and the vibrant hues of wildflowers adorning the clay vases in the corners.

Each brick she touched seemed to exude a sense of history and resilience, as if bearing witness to the passage of time and the trials of the mortal world. Despite the ferocious summers and harsh winters that plagued the inhabitants of this realm, Suguru's home stood as a bastion of serenity and stability, offering solace to those who sought refuge within its walls.

Suguru's voice carried a softness as he pointed to the vibrant blue door nearby, a subtle homage to the vast expanse of the sky. "It's reminiscent of the sea," he murmured. "Sometimes, when I close my eyes, I can almost hear the waves crashing against the shore."

Curiosity flickered in the goddess's eyes as she inquired about Suguru's countryside home. "Is it similar to this?" she asked, her tone tinged with genuine interest. "What was it like there?"

A wistful smile graced Suguru's lips as he reflected on his distant memories. "It's been too long for me to say," he confessed. "But in my mind's eye, I can still see the beauty of it all. The olive trees swaying gently in the breeze, the laughter of my family echoing through the fields as we went about our daily routines. It was a time of simple joys and cherished moments."

The goddess's empathy shone through as she acknowledged Suguru's longing for his homeland. "You must miss them," she whispered softly, a hint of sympathy in her voice. "But I imagine it brings you comfort to dream of those days."

Suguru nodded, a quiet resolve in his gaze as he returned her smile. "Yes, it does," he admitted. "But life is about embracing the present, isn't it? I may be far from home, but I'm living my dream here and now. And for the time being, that's more than enough."

"It's admirable," she remarked, her gaze softening with admiration. "To find contentment in the midst of longing."

Suguru's expression softened, a faint smile playing on his lips. "Life has a way of leading us down unexpected paths," he mused. "But it's what we make of those paths that truly defines us."

In the quiet hours of the night, as the flames danced in the hearth and the air was thick with the aroma of bread and wine, the goddess found herself immersed in Suguru's world. His words lingered in her mind, stirring a deep contemplation within her immortal soul.

The feast he laid before her was a testament to his generosity and hospitality, a humble offering that spoke volumes of his character. With each bite of the delicious bread and each sip of the aged wine, she felt a connection to the mortal realm unlike anything she had experienced before. It was as if Suguru's warmth and sincerity had breached the barriers between their worlds, inviting her to truly live in the present moment.

Their conversation flowed effortlessly, touching upon topics both profound and mundane. They spoke of family, of dreams yet to be realized, of the fleeting nature of existence itself. And in those fleeting hours, the goddess felt a sense of liberation she had never known before.

For the first time in her immortal life, she felt truly alive, basking in the simple joys of companionship and shared experiences. In Suguru's company, she found a kindred spirit, someone who understood the complexities of life and embraced them with open arms.

As the night wore on and the fire burned low, the goddess realized that true fulfillment didn't lie in the opulence of her divine realm, but in the richness of human connection and the beauty of life's fleeting moments. And in that realization, she found a newfound appreciation for the gift of existence itself.

Suguru's warmth enveloped her like a comforting embrace, his presence a soothing balm to her immortal soul. His beauty, so effortlessly radiant, seemed to illuminate the dim corners of her heart, stirring feelings she had long forgotten. In his company, she felt alive in a way she had never experienced before.

But it was his voice that truly enraptured her, weaving a spell of enchantment that transcended mortal limitations. When he sang, it was as if the heavens themselves had opened up, pouring forth celestial melodies that echoed through the very fabric of existence. It was a gift bestowed upon him by her uncle Apollo, a divine talent that left her breathless with awe.

As Suguru's voice filled the air, each note carrying the weight of his emotions, the goddess found herself moved to tears. His music was a testament to the beauty and pain of the human experience, a poignant reminder of the fragility and resilience of the mortal soul. And yet, amidst the sorrow and longing, there was a glimmer of eternity, a promise of everlasting hope that shimmered like the stars above.

In that moment, as she listened to Suguru's soulful melodies, the goddess felt a profound sense of connection to the mortal realm. It was a reminder that despite their differences, the bonds of love and empathy transcended all boundaries, uniting them in a shared journey through the vast tapestry of existence.

And as the echoes of Suguru's song faded into the night, the goddess knew that she had found something truly precious in his presence. It was a glimpse of the forever she had yearned for, a fleeting moment of perfection that she would cherish for eternity.

"Your voice," she whispered, her voice barely above a breath, "it's... divine."

Suguru's gaze met hers, his eyes reflecting the flickering firelight with a mixture of humility and gratitude. "Thank you," he said softly, his words carrying a weight of emotion. "It means a lot coming from you."

"I've never heard anything quite like it," she continued, her heart swelling with a sense of wonder. "It's as if the heavens themselves have blessed you with their song."

Suguru's cheeks flushed with color at her praise, a shy smile gracing his lips. "I'm just grateful to be able to share it with you," he replied, his voice filled with sincerity. "Music has always been my solace, my way of expressing the depths of my soul."

The goddess reached out, her hand finding his and intertwining their fingers in a gentle embrace. "And what a beautiful soul it is," she murmured, her eyes reflecting the warmth of the firelight as she gazed into his. "Thank you for sharing it with me."

Suguru's smile widened at her words, a soft glow of appreciation radiating from his features. "It's my pleasure," he replied, his voice barely above a whisper. "To have someone like you appreciate my music, it's more than I could have ever hoped for."

Their hands remained entwined, the warmth of their touch creating a cocoon of intimacy amidst the cool night air. The crackling fire cast dancing shadows across the room, adding to the enchantment of the moment.

The goddess leaned in closer, her breath mingling with Suguru's as she spoke. "I feel as though your music speaks directly to my soul," she confessed, her voice barely audible over the gentle melody of his song. "It's as if you understand me in a way no one else ever has."

Suguru's eyes shimmered with a mixture of affection and reverence as he met her gaze. "Perhaps our souls are attuned to each other," he suggested, his words laced with a hint of wonder. "Maybe that's why our connection feels…..”

Her own eyes meet his purple orbs. “Natural. Real.”

In that simple exchange, amidst the flickering glow of the fire and the tender embrace of their hands, there existed a purity that transcended the complexities of their worlds. The goddess found herself drawn to Suguru's authenticity, to the genuine sincerity that radiated from his every word and gesture.

His smile, warm and genuine, spoke volumes. It was a reflection of his unassuming nature, of his innate ability to find beauty and joy in the simplest of moments. There was no pretense, no artifice—just Suguru, in all his natural splendor.

As their eyes met, a silent understanding passed between them, a shared recognition of the profound connection they shared. It was a connection born not of grand gestures or elaborate displays, but of the quiet, unspoken bond that had blossomed between two souls who had found solace in each other's presence.

In that moment, the goddess felt a sense of peace wash over her, a feeling of contentment that she hadn't known in ages. With Suguru by her side, she was reminded of the beauty of simplicity, of the power of genuine human connection.

"Yes," she whispered, her voice barely above a breath. "Just that." And in Suguru's smile, she found a glimpse of the divine—an affirmation of the beauty that exists in the natural, the real, and the unassuming.

In the fleeting moments they shared, amidst the warmth of the firelight and the gentle strains of Suguru's music, the goddess found herself immersed in a world where time seemed to stand still. She was hesitant to let go of this precious moment, to bid farewell to the comfort and solace she found in Suguru's presence.

But even as she reveled in the joy of their connection, a sense of responsibility weighed heavily on her heart. She couldn't bear the thought of causing worry or distress to those she held dear, of disappearing without a trace and leaving them to wonder about her fate.

Despite her own yearning for companionship and understanding, the goddess knew that she had a duty to uphold, a responsibility to those who depended on her. She couldn't allow her own desires to overshadow the well-being of others, even if it meant sacrificing her own happiness in the process.

As she prepared to part ways with Suguru, a bittersweet ache settled in her chest. She knew that their time together was fleeting, that she couldn't linger in his presence as much as she longed to. But in her heart, she held onto the hope that he would find happiness and fulfillment in his life, that the gods would smile upon him and bless him with all the goodness he deserved.

And as she bid him farewell, she whispered a silent prayer to the gods, a plea for their benevolence and grace to shine upon Suguru, the man who had touched her soul in ways she never thought possible. For in loving him, even from afar, she found a sense of purpose and meaning that transcended the boundaries of time and space.

When the goddess returned to her abode she could not get Suguru’ face out of her mind. She slept that night, dreaming of a man she could not be with. All night, she had wished she had not left but the perfect moment was to leave when he was asleep. It would not be right to stay too long. But the goddess could not help it. She could not help but long for him. And thus, she did return.

SHE KEPT COMING BACK TO HIM. In the days that followed, the goddess found herself drawn back to Suguru's side time and time again—much to his delight. He was ever so happy that she kept coming back to him. He liked seeing her, he liked singing for her. He liked knowing that she was there with him, even just to bid him good night. Despite the weight of her responsibilities and the pull of her divine duties, she couldn't resist the allure of his presence, the warmth of his smile, and the depth of his compassion.

With each passing moment spent in his company, the goddess felt a profound sense of happiness and fulfillment wash over her. She could feel it in every fiber of her body. It was as though butterflies danced on her belly whenever she saw him. In Suguru's embrace, she discovered a kind of joy that transcended the boundaries of mortal and divine, a pure and unadulterated happiness that resonated deep within her soul.

Their time together was filled with laughter and light, with shared moments of tenderness and affection that left the goddess feeling as though she had found her true home in Suguru's arms. His gaze held a depth of adoration that mirrored the vast expanse of the night sky, each star shining with the promise of endless possibility and boundless love.

As they walked hand in hand, the goddess felt the rhythm of her heart syncopate with Suguru's, their connection a symphony of shared experiences and intertwined destinies. His touch, gentle yet firm, filled her with a sense of belonging unlike anything she had ever known, grounding her in the present moment and reminding her of the beauty of simply being alive.

In Suguru's presence, the goddess found herself enveloped in a sense of ethereal contentment, a feeling of peace and serenity that transcended the chaos of the mortal world. For in loving him, she discovered a kind of completeness that she had never thought possible, a sense of wholeness that filled her with a boundless sense of gratitude and wonder.

And so, the goddess treasured each moment spent with Suguru, cherishing the simple yet profound beauty of their connection and reveling in the magic of their shared love. For in him, she had found not only a companion and confidant, but a kindred spirit whose presence illuminated her path and filled her heart with endless joy.

As the day of the celebration approached, Suguru's excitement became palpable, his eyes sparkling with anticipation as he spoke animatedly about the festivities. He regaled you with tales of past celebrations, describing the vibrant colors, the lively music, and the joyous atmosphere that filled the air.

Despite your nerves, you found yourself unable to resist his infectious enthusiasm. The way his smile widened at your agreement to accompany him filled your heart with warmth, dispelling any doubts or fears you may have had.

You knew that stepping into the realm of the gods, even in celebration, was no small feat. But for Suguru, you were willing to brave any uncertainty. His happiness was contagious, and the thought of sharing this special day with him filled you with a sense of excitement and anticipation of your own. As the bustling sounds of the festival filled the air, Suguru and the goddess strolled hand in hand, their laughter mingling with the lively music drifting through the streets.

"It's beautiful, isn't it?" Suguru remarked, his eyes alight with excitement as he gestured towards the colorful lanterns illuminating the night sky.

The goddess nodded, a smile playing at the corners of her lips. "It truly is," she replied, her gaze wandering over the throngs of people gathered in the square. "I've never seen anything quite like it."

Suguru chuckled softly, his fingers intertwining with hers as they navigated through the crowd. "Well, you're in for a treat then," he said, his voice filled with warmth. "This festival is unlike any other. It's a celebration of music, of art, of life itself."

As they approached the heart of the festivities, the goddess's eyes widened in wonder at the sight before her. The square was alive with activity, adorned with colorful banners and shimmering decorations. Musicians played lively tunes on wooden flutes and tambourines, while dancers swayed to the rhythm of the music, their movements fluid and graceful.

"Shall we join them?" Suguru asked, a mischievous twinkle in his eye as he inclined his head towards the dancers.

The goddess hesitated for a moment, her cheeks flushing with excitement. "I... I'm not sure," she admitted, her heart fluttering in her chest.

But Suguru's smile was infectious, his hand reaching out to gently pull her closer. "Come on," he urged, his voice soft and reassuring. "Let's lose ourselves in the music, just for tonight."

With a nod and a smile, the goddess allowed herself to be swept away by the intoxicating energy of the festival, her worries melting away in the warmth of Suguru's embrace. And as they danced beneath the starlit sky, their laughter ringing out like a melody, she knew that this night would be one she would never forget.

The square was alive with energy, pulsating with the rhythm of drums and the enchanting melodies of flutes. The air was thick with the scent of incense wafting from ornate altars and the mouthwatering aroma of sizzling delicacies from street vendors' stalls.

As they stepped into the bustling square, bathed in the warm glow of torches and lanterns, Suguru's hand found hers, his touch igniting a spark of excitement within her. With him by her side, she felt a surge of anticipation, eager to immerse herself in the festivities.

They moved through the lively crowd as one, their steps guided by the pulsating rhythm of the music. Laughter bubbled up between them, merging seamlessly with the joyful chatter of the revelers around them. With each step, they drank in the sights and sounds of the celebration, their spirits lifted by the vibrant atmosphere that surrounded them.

Amidst the swirling sea of dancers, Suguru pulled the goddess into his arms, guiding her in a lively dance that seemed to mirror the pulsing rhythm of their hearts. They moved with an effortless grace, twirling and spinning beneath the starry canopy above, lost in the magic of the moment.

As the night wore on and the festivities reached a crescendo, Suguru led the goddess to a secluded corner of the square, where they found a quiet spot to rest and catch their breath. There, under the soft glow of the moonlight, they shared stories and laughter, their words dancing like fireflies in the night.

Under the spell of the night, they indulged in the heady sweetness of wine, the rich liquid fueling their spirits and igniting a flame of desire within them. As they danced beneath the stars, the world around them blurred into a haze of joy and euphoria, each moment filled with the promise of something deeper, something more profound.

With each sip of wine, their inhibitions dissolved like mist in the morning sun, leaving behind only the raw, unbridled passion that simmered beneath the surface. And as the night unfurled its velvety cloak, Suguru's lips met hers in a tender kiss, the world around them seemed to fade into insignificance, leaving only the electric pulse of their shared desire. The touch of his lips against hers ignited a wildfire of longing within her, a hunger that burned hotter with each passing moment.

"Gods," Suguru whispered against her lips, his voice husky with desire. "I've wanted to do that since the moment I laid eyes on you."

The goddess could only respond with a soft moan of pleasure, her fingers tangling in his hair as she pulled him closer, deepening the kiss with a fervor born of longing and need. In that moment, nothing else mattered but the intoxicating taste of him, the heat of his body pressed against hers, and the overwhelming sensation of being consumed by passion.

"Suguru," she murmured breathlessly, her voice barely above a whisper as their lips parted, "I've never felt this way before."

He gazed into her eyes, his own filled with a mixture of tenderness and desire. "Neither have I," he admitted, his fingers tracing gentle patterns along her cheek. "Being with you... it feels like coming home."

A soft smile tugged at her lips as she leaned in to kiss him once more, their connection growing stronger with each passing moment. "I don't want this night to end," she confessed, her heart pounding in her chest.

"Then let's make it last forever," Suguru replied, his voice filled with determination as he pulled her close, sealing their fate with another passionate kiss. And beneath the blanket of stars, they surrendered to the intoxicating allure of love, knowing that their hearts had found their true home in each other's embrace.

In the throes of passion, they surrendered to the pull of desire, their bodies melding together in a symphony of sensation and emotion. Wrapped in each other's arms, they lost themselves in the rapture of the moment, their hearts beating as one beneath the vast expanse of the starlit sky.

As the night wore on and the festivities reached their zenith, Suguru and his beloved goddess found themselves lost in each other's arms, wrapped together under the celestial canopy of stars. Their laughter, the beating of their hearts, is better than the sound of music outside the windows, filling the air with a sense of pure joy and abandon. 

In the midst of a fragrant garden ablaze with the intoxicating scent of flowers, they found themselves ensnared in a tender embrace, their whispered words of love and adoration mingling with the heady perfume of blossoms. Each declaration melted her heart a little more, filling her with a sense of warmth and belonging that she had never known before. With each gentle kiss that he pressed against her skin, they were drawn together like magnets, their bodies moving in perfect harmony as though they were two halves of a whole, united in a love that knew no bounds.

As the night deepened and the world around them faded into shadow, they found themselves entwined in each other's arms, lost in a sea of passion and desire. The soft glow of lanterns cast a warm halo around them, illuminating the contours of their bodies with a gentle radiance that seemed to dance and flicker with the rhythm of their hearts.

In that moment, there was no past, no future—only the exquisite beauty of the present, unfolding like a delicate flower in the darkness. And as they surrendered themselves to the ecstasy of the night, their souls intertwined in a symphony of love and longing, they knew that they had found something rare and precious—a love that would endure the test of time, burning bright like a beacon in the night.

"I never want this moment to end," Suguru confessed, his voice filled with a mixture of longing and desire.

"Nor do I," she replied, her voice barely above a whisper as she leaned in to capture his lips in a tender kiss. And in that fleeting moment, time stood still as they surrendered to the irresistible pull of their love, knowing that in each other's arms, they had found the true meaning of happiness.

And there she felt the thing called love.

She would never trade it for anything.

Not even staying as a god.

She wanted all of this, all of Suguru.

SHE WISHED SHE WAS THERE WHEN IT HAPPENED. In the quiet solitude of her chambers, the goddess's thoughts were consumed by visions of Suguru, her beloved musician. With each passing moment, her anticipation grew, like the rising crescendo of a symphony building to its climax. Despite the confines of her home, she felt as if she were transported to a world where only their love existed, where his music was the only language they needed to communicate.

As she gazed into the mirror, her reflection seemed to blur and fade, replaced by images of Suguru. She could almost hear the soft strumming of his instrument, feel the warmth of his voice wrapping around her like a comforting embrace. In that moment, time seemed to stand still, suspended in the ethereal realm where their souls intertwined through the power of music and emotion.

Each note that emanated from the depths of her imagination resonated with the deepest recesses of her heart, stirring emotions she had never known before. It was as if Suguru's melodies had become a part of her, weaving themselves into the fabric of her being and igniting a fire of passion that burned brighter with each passing beat.

In that fleeting moment, she found herself lost in the music, lost in the love that enveloped her like a warm blanket on a cold winter's night. And as she closed her eyes and let the melodies wash over her, she knew that no matter the distance that separated them, their love would always find a way to unite them in the timeless symphony of their souls.

Despite the fleeting moments of solace she found in the anticipation of Suguru's music, fate intervened abruptly with the return of her mother, shattering her hopes of experiencing his melodies firsthand. With her sanctuary disrupted, the goddess was left with naught but the echoes of his music reverberating in the confines of her chamber, a bittersweet reminder of the love she longed to embrace.

Yet, even as the physical distance between them widened, the ethereal connection forged through Suguru's music remained steadfast, transcending the boundaries of time and space. In the gentle strains of his melodies, she found solace, a soothing balm to the ache of separation that gnawed at her soul.

Though they were separated by circumstance, their love endured, undaunted by the trials of distance. For as long as Suguru's music played, it served as a lifeline, a beacon guiding her through the tumultuous seas of longing and despair, reminding her that their hearts were forever entwined in the eternal symphony of love.

‘Sing beautifully, great musicians!’ The king of Via Nova said that night that it was full of people. He raised his can of wine in front of Suguru. It was the king’s birthday so he sent all the people to his kingdom. The king looked at his wife. ‘My dear queen, what music do you want to hear?’

‘I cannot think of anything, my dear king.’ Said the queen back. ‘Everything our dearest Suguru sang was full of joy and beauty.’

The king's words echoed through the grand hall, filled to the brim with revelers celebrating his birthday. Suguru stood before them, a sense of humility and reverence in his demeanor as he faced the royal couple. Despite the festive atmosphere, a somber note lingered in the air as the king called upon Suguru to grace the gathering with his music.

With a heavy heart, Suguru bowed his head in deference to the king and queen, his voice tinged with regret as he spoke. "Your majesty, my lady," he began, his tone apologetic, "I fear that tonight, my voice fails me. It is not fit to sing for such a joyous occasion."

The queen's gentle words of praise for his music only deepened Suguru's sense of remorse, knowing that he could not meet their expectations. Yet, before he could retreat into the shadows of self-doubt, Flavius, a fellow musician, stepped forward with a gesture of camaraderie and support.

"Dear friend," Flavius interjected, offering Suguru a drink with a reassuring smile, "Let us raise our glasses in honor of our king's birthday. May this wine revive your spirits and heal your throat, so that you may grace us with your melodious voice once more."

As Suguru raised the goblet to his lips, a sense of apprehension gnawed at him, mingling with the bitter taste of the wine. His gaze shifted to Flavius, who watched him with a smile that seemed to hold a hint of mischief beneath its surface. Despite his doubts, Suguru knew that he could not refuse the king's request, nor could he let down the gathered crowd who eagerly awaited his performance.

With a deep breath to steady his nerves, Suguru drained the goblet in one swift motion, feeling the warmth of the wine spread through his veins like a comforting embrace. As he took up his lyre and approached the royal couple, he felt a surge of determination welling within him, fueled by the camaraderie of his fellow musicians and the supportive presence of the gathered audience.

With each strum of his lyre, Suguru poured his heart and soul into the music, his fingers dancing across the strings with practiced precision. Despite the lingering strain in his voice, he sang with a passion and intensity that captivated the listeners, drawing them into the enchanting melody that filled the grand hall with its haunting beauty.

As the last notes of his song faded into the air, Suguru met the eyes of the king and queen, his expression a mix of relief and gratitude. Though the performance had been a challenge, he had risen to the occasion, thanks in no small part to the encouragement of his fellow musicians and the unwavering support of the gathered crowd. And as he bowed before the royal couple, he knew that he had done justice to the honor bestowed upon him, leaving a lasting impression on all who had witnessed his performance.

As the tragic scene unfolded before her, the goddess could scarcely believe her eyes. She watched in horror as the three Parcae, the arbiters of fate, stood ominously behind Suguru, their presence casting a shadow over the joyous celebration. Nona, with her golden thread of life, Decima, who measured its length, and Morta, wielding her thread clipper, seemed indifferent to the anguish that their actions wrought upon the mortal realm.

"Goddess," Suguru gasped, his voice barely above a whisper as he crumpled to the ground, "help me."

The goddess pressed her hands against the mirror, her heart breaking at the sight of her beloved in agony. "Please, spare him," she pleaded with Parcae, her voice trembling with desperation. "He doesn't deserve this fate."

But Nona, Decima, and Morta remained unmoved, their expressions inscrutable as they carried out their duty without remorse or mercy.

The queen of Via Nova, her voice filled with anguish, cried out in despair, "Save him! Please, someone save him!"

Tears streaming down her cheeks, the goddess could only watch helplessly as Suguru's life slipped away before her eyes, the cruel hand of fate sealing his tragic demise. She longed to reach out to him, to beg and beg until her knees gave out at the Parcae to spare his life, but she knew that her cries would fall on deaf ears. With a heavy heart, she watched as Suguru collapsed to the floor, wracked with pain and sickness, his life extinguished by Morta's decisive cut.

Amidst the chaos and despair, the queen of Via Nova's anguished cry pierced the air, echoing the goddess's own grief and disbelief. The once vibrant celebration had been shattered, replaced by an overwhelming sense of loss and despair. And as the reality of Suguru's fate sank in, the goddess could only mourn the untimely end of a life filled with beauty, passion, and promise.

Flavius ​​killed him.

And did so with malice.

He was gone.

LIFE HAD LOST ALL ITS MEANING. The goddess's tears flowed like rivers, her heart heavy with the weight of sorrow and longing. Despite her divine powers, she was powerless to change the cruel hand of fate that had snatched Suguru away from her. The agony of losing him pierced her soul, leaving behind a gaping wound that no amount of time could heal.

In her grief, the goddess grappled with a tumult of emotions - anger, despair, and a profound sense of injustice. How could the Parcae, the arbiters of life and death, be so indifferent to the pain they inflicted? How could they tear Suguru from her side, leaving her to mourn his loss for eternity?

But amidst her anguish, the goddess also grappled with the bitter truth of their love. No matter how deeply she cared for Suguru, their bond was destined to be fraught with limitations. As a mortal, Suguru was bound by the constraints of time and mortality, while she, as a goddess, existed outside the realm of human experience.

Their love, no matter how pure and profound, could never transcend the vast chasm that separated their worlds. And though it pained her to accept, the goddess knew that their paths were destined to diverge, leaving her to carry the burden of their love alone.

No joy at the very end.

In the days that followed Suguru's passing, the goddess found herself consumed by an unyielding ache, a relentless longing that gnawed at her insides like a voracious beast. Despite her divine nature, she was unable to escape the searing pain of grief that gripped her heart in its icy embrace.

With each passing moment, the weight of Suguru's absence bore down upon her like a crushing burden, threatening to suffocate her with its oppressive force. She yearned to hold him once more, to feel the warmth of his embrace and the gentle rhythm of his heartbeat against her own.

Yet, even in death, Suguru remained beyond her reach, his mortal form consigned to the earth while she languished in the cold confines of immortality. The futility of her longing pierced her soul like a dagger, leaving her trembling with the agony of unfulfilled desire.

And yet, amidst the depths of her sorrow, the goddess found solace in the kindness of the king and queen, who had honored Suguru with a dignified burial befitting his stature as their favorite singer. Their gesture of compassion touched her deeply, serving as a beacon of light in the darkness of her grief.

In gratitude for their kindness, the goddess bestowed upon the king and queen her blessing, a gift of peace and pure love to accompany them on their journey through life. Though Suguru was gone, his memory lived on in the hearts of those who had loved him, a testament to the enduring power of his music and the boundless depths of his soul.

In the quiet moments that followed, the goddess found herself haunted by the echo of Suguru's voice, his melodic tones reverberating through the chambers of her mind like a haunting refrain. She closed her eyes, willing the memories of their time together to wash over her like a gentle tide, seeking solace in the sound of his voice that still lingered in her thoughts.

"Suguru," she whispered softly, her voice barely more than a breath. "I can still hear you."

The sound of his laughter, the timbre of his voice as he sang, it all played in her mind like a bittersweet melody, a reminder of the love they had shared and the loss she now endured.

"You were so full of life," she murmured, her heart heavy with longing. "How can you be gone?"

But even as she mourned his passing, the memory of Suguru remained a beacon of light in the darkness of her grief, a reminder of the beauty and joy he had brought into her life.

"I will never forget you," she vowed, her voice trembling with emotion. "Your music will live on in my heart, forever."

The goddess stood before the lifeless body of Suguru, her heart heavy with grief yet filled with a determination to honor his memory in a way that would transcend time itself. With a gentle touch, she closed her eyes and let her divine power flow through her, shaping and molding the essence of the man she had loved into something new.

As she worked, a sense of purpose filled her, driving her to create something beautiful out of the pain of loss. With each delicate movement of her hands, she fashioned the form of a bird, its feathers shimmering with the colors of sunset and dawn. And within its breast, she imbued the spirit of Suguru, his essence merging with the creature in a harmonious union.

When the transformation was complete, the goddess gazed upon her creation with a mixture of sadness and awe. The bird before her was a testament to the enduring power of love, a symbol of hope and renewal in the face of loss.

With a soft smile, the goddess released the bird into the sky, watching as it soared high above, its song echoing through the air like a melody of remembrance. And in that moment, she knew that Suguru would live on, not just in her memories, but in the very fabric of the world around her.

As long as she lives he will be with his beloved.

As long as nightingales sing, she will be with him.

She hopes one day that he comes to find her again.

thousands of years later, modern era;

SHE LIVED WAY TOO LONG SHE THINKS. In the vibrant chaos of Shibuya's bustling streets, the goddess found herself immersed in a whirlwind of sights and sounds that seemed to dance around her. Neon lights painted the pavement with kaleidoscopic hues, casting a luminous glow upon the bustling throngs of people weaving through the crowded sidewalks. Each passerby added to the symphony of the city, their voices blending into a cacophony of chatter that filled the air.

Amidst this vibrant tapestry, the goddess wandered, her senses alive with the pulse of modern Japan. The scent of street food wafted through the air, mingling with the tang of freshly brewed coffee and the faint hint of cherry blossoms. She drank in the energy of the city, feeling it pulse beneath her skin like a heartbeat that echoed the rhythm of life itself.

And then, like a gentle breeze stirring the stillness, a familiar melody drifted through the air, cutting through the noise of the bustling crowd. It was a song she knew well, one that resonated deep within her soul, tugging at the strings of her memory with a bittersweet tug.

Her steps faltered, her heart skipping a beat as she recognized the voice that carried the melody. It was a voice she hadn't heard in centuries, yet one that remained etched in her memory like an indelible mark. In that moment, amidst the chaos of Shibuya's streets, time seemed to stand still as she paused to listen, her senses fully attuned to the hauntingly beautiful sound that washed over her like a gentle tide.

For a fleeting instant, the goddess was transported back to a time long gone, a memory woven into the fabric of her existence. And as she stood there, enveloped in the music that spoke to her very essence, she couldn't help but feel a stirring of something deep within her—a longing, perhaps, or a yearning for a connection that had once been lost to the passage of time.

Frozen in place, the goddess felt a surge of conflicting emotions wash over her as she turned towards the source of the familiar melody. Amidst the throng of bustling bodies, there he stood—Suguru. But he was no longer the man she once knew. Time had etched its mark upon him, transforming him into someone almost unrecognizable.

His hair, once neatly trimmed, now cascaded down his back in a tangled cascade, pulled back into a messy bun adorned with intricate ornaments. His skin bore the ink of countless stories, tattoos that danced across his flesh like chapters in a book, each one a testament to the journey he had embarked upon since they last crossed paths.

And yet, despite the physical changes, there was something undeniably familiar about him—the warmth in his eyes that spoke of kindness, the passion in his voice as he poured his soul into the music that filled the air. It was as if beneath the layers of tattoos and piercings, his essence remained unchanged, a beacon of light amidst the chaos of the world around him.

With each strum of his guitar, Suguru wove a tapestry of emotions that seemed to reach out and touch the hearts of those who paused to listen. His voice, raw and untamed, carried with it a sense of vulnerability that spoke of a soul laid bare, unafraid to expose its deepest truths to the world. He still sang so beautifully. So wonderfully.

For the goddess, watching him from amidst the crowd, it was a poignant reminder of the passage of time and the inevitability of change. And yet, in that moment, as she stood there, enveloped in the music that flowed from his fingertips, she couldn't help but feel a sense of connection—a thread that bound them together across the vast expanse of years and distance, a reminder that some bonds were truly timeless.

As the goddess approached Suguru, her heart fluttered with a mix of anticipation and uncertainty. With a hesitant smile, she spoke up, "Excuse me, your music is beautiful."

Suguru glanced up from his guitar, his expression friendly but devoid of recognition. Her heart melted. "Oh, thanks! Glad you think so," he replied, his voice warm and genuine.

There was a pang of disappointment in the goddess's chest, realizing that Suguru didn't remember her. But how could he, when thousands of years had passed? Suppressing her disappointment, she continued with a smile. "I couldn't help but notice... you seem familiar to me. You remind me of someone.”

Suguru shook his head, his brow furrowing slightly in thought. "Hmm, I don't think we’ve met before. But hey, who knows? Tokyo's a big place, but it's surprising how often paths cross."

The goddess nodded, a faint smile playing on her lips. "You're right about that. Well, regardless, it's a pleasure to meet you. I'm just visiting from overseas."

Suguru grinned, a twinkle in his eyes. "Ah, a traveler! Welcome to Japan. I hope you're enjoying your time here."

"I am, thank you," she replied, her smile widening. "And thank you for the beautiful music. It's been a highlight of my trip."

Suguru's smile grew, genuine warmth radiating from him. "It's my pleasure. Music is meant to be shared, after all. Enjoy the rest of your stay in Tokyo."

With a nod of gratitude, the goddess bid Suguru farewell, her heart heavy with the weight of unspoken memories. As she continued on her journey through the bustling streets of Shibuya, she couldn't help but wonder about the twists of fate that had brought them together once more, if only for a fleeting moment in time.

She was happy that he was happy in this life.

She was happy her nightingale still sings.

And so she thinks she can walk away well.

Because her nightingale would live and sing.

Even without her by his side, he’ll be alright.

[fleetinginfinities]

first ever of these but … the bachelors and my random headcanons/quotes/song lyrics/slices of whatever that fit them 🫶 apologies it doesn’t include everyone, these guys are my favorites and I’m having trouble channeling the others lmao

Sam

- drums his fingers/knuckles on tables, his legs, any surface when he’s anxious or impatient or excited or anticipating something. which, he’s always feeling at least one of the above…so

- his fingers. that’s all

- plays footsie under the table but not in a weird way, in more of a “I literally need to be touching you at all times to ground myself to this present moment and be happy” way

- loves full body contact — huuuge tight hugs, rolling on top of you in bed, pulling you into his chest from behind

- mumbles in his sleep and tosses and turns, constantly reaching for you and pulling you close

- blushes a lot. his cheeks turn the most beautiful peachy color

- talks at the speed of light as his default setting

- speeds when he drives, speeds when he walks, just Does Everything Quickly and with much energy

- is somehow both a morning person and a night owl most of the time

- but when he’s lazy or tired, there’s never been anyone lazier or sleepier

- always answers phone calls on speaker mode

- is unaware of his strength when showing affection sometimes, like an oversized dog

- prominent arm veins. enough said.

- makes you feel so alive. present. his energy is contagious

- there’s not a soul he can’t make friends with

- would absolutely love early/mid 2000s pop punk

- blindingly sunny smile

- beautiful, soft golden hair that he wears messy and literally sticks out every direction but in the hottest way ever

- he’s like the summer solstice. an everlasting day that’s sweet and warm and full of life but also peace. Sam, in all of his chaos, is your peace

- “i’m so in love that I might stop breathing”

- doesn’t ever hold a grudge

- smells like lavender and lemon. no I won’t be taking any feedback with this one

- big fan of flowers

- like, it’s not uncommon for him to show up with a hand-picked bouquet for you he collected on the way over

- could’ve worked in a bakery instead of joja mart and would’ve been much happier. sweet cinnamon roll boy

- is actually the heartthrob of the town

- as sweet and pure as he is, he also has a rebellious side and is often trying to sneak you in his room and toe the line of authority whenever he can

- is quite adventurous and doesn’t really have an ego if he’s bad at things or much fear in general. the results are constant entertainment and occasional catastrophes.

Elliott

- “I dream about you every night now. It’s really quite beautiful”

- is actually strong and built and muscular (totally looks like a red headed Thor in my brain)

- but touches and holds you so gently that it makes you want to cry

- extremely strong jawline

- gives that aloof kind of mysteriousness and quiet confidence that is magnetizing to literally everyone

- doesn’t have a toxically masculine bone in his body

- will talk to you for hours about philosophy, literature, films, art, the meaning of life, etc etc etc

- traces his fingers on your bare skin, lost in thought

- has the most mesmerizing, starry eyes

- being around him makes you feel like you’re living in a dream. everything feels ethereal and hazy

- if Sam is the summer solstice, Elliott is like the peak of autumn, when all of the leaves are at their most colorful and bright just before they fall, and you feel like he’s both the beginning and the ending of something all at once

- as a matter of fact: “is this the end of all the endings?”

- “you showed me colors you know I can’t see with anyone else. you taught me a secret language I can’t speak with anyone else”

- loving him is the most intense, passionate experience of your life

- he would a b s o l u t e l y be the one that got away if you split up

- big fan of candles and crackling log fireplaces

- really enjoys a good row in his boat in the cool, dewy mornings and his back muscles show it

- his emotional intelligence is unmatched. you’ll never meet a more well-adjusted man

- romanticizes life in only the way a writer can

- isn’t just all depth and somber. also isn’t all pizazz and flamboyance. actually has a great sense of humor as a secret third thing

Sebastian

- despite how much he closes himself off at first, you feel an instant connection with him. you just understand him innately. and you feel like he gets you, too

- downplays how smart he really is

- genuinely loves to let everyone else shine. loves that Sam commands all the attention in the room. loves watching others praise you.

- is never competitive with anyone else and absolutely loves when the people around him win. the most supportive person ever

- really has a soft spot for animals

- incredibly intuitive. can read your mind like a book and anticipate your needs

- if he loves you, there is not another person on earth that would ever catch his attention or temptation. 1000% the most loyal boy

- “he looks up grinning like a devil”

- motorcycle rides in the city late at night when it’s raining

- sometimes doing something reckless is the only way that makes him feel alive

- in other words, he’s a closet adrenaline junkie

- can absolutely rival Elliott in terms of being the most romantic with his words sometimes — though it’s few and far between, he will never stop telling you that you’re the first person that he ever did, well, basically *anything* with and how special you are to him and how you’re his one and only

Alex

- it takes a special person to command his attention, he has always had fleeting attractions but he has never felt for anyone what he feels for you

- is absolutely a great person to go to with any problem. he has a clear and straightforward answer or solution

- is the number one person you want to be around if you just want someone genuinely uplifting to spend time with

- *always* notices physical changes and gives fantastic compliments

- is absolutely the dude who keeps his friend group together well into adulthood and middle age and beyond. he’s the one planning beach days, weekend recreational sports and activities, cooking out or tailgating on game days, inviting you for a bite to eat at the saloon if he hasn’t seen you in awhile, etc.

- genuinely loves a good romance or romcom as much as he loves the newest action movie

- fantastic with kids

- is very committed to you from the start

- will go to great lengths to maintain a happy and healthy and successful relationship. it’s the athlete determination in him

- has quite good taste in aesthetics. definitely has an opinion about fashion, home decor, etc

- has perfect teeth and a beautiful complexion in my mind

[bluestar22x]

A Lifetime Of Flowers

Pairing: Marcus Pike x F!Reader

Summary: Marcus found out the reader likes flowers; simple as that

Rating: E for everyone? G for general audiences? Can't get much more innocent than this.

Word Count: 180(ish)

Warnings: None, just sweet romance

Author's Note: This is for @morallyinept (Jett's) Flora and Fauna Challenge. Something short and sweet today. No need to put me in the mix for the chance of receiving flowers - just send me a virtual one and tell me how this fic made you feel. :)

xxx

Ever since you started dating Marcus Pike flowers had turned into a consistent presence in your life.

Every date, every holiday, every special event he'd show up at your door with a new arrangement of them, dark chocolate eyes warm and smile bright at the sight of you.

The flowers marked the development of your relationship as you spent more and more time together.

Sunflowers on your first date night for adoration, red carnations after the first time you made out for deep affection, red tulips for passion the night you first made love, red roses the day he proposed for you being his one true love, baby's breath in your wedding bouquet for everlasting love, and daisies when your first child was born for new beginnings.

Most of the time after it was red roses, with tulips and sunflowers mixed in. Love, passion, adoration. They summed up the rest of your life with him perfectly.

Though he played ignorant all those decades, you knew it was no coincidence.

Marcus Pike had learned the meanings of flowers as another way to express his feelings for you.

xxx

Tagged: @harriedandharassed

xxx

Main Masterlist

xxx

[xoxomoonlightxoxo]

Somewhere Between Hello and Goodbye | Ch. 3: The Lucky Day

Warning: This chapter contains mentions of an eating disorder and depression, please read with caution as topics may be triggering.

a/n: Alexa, play Daddy's Home <3 Anywho, OC's spiralling summer was inspired by Bella's montage of passing seasons in Twilight ... I'm sorry, but I need to preface that OC will be going through it this whole season, I have already cried thrice. Also, a side question, can you guys actually play the songs I post for these chapters? Meaning, does Tumblr let yall do that or am I trippin? Because I truly think they add a lot to the overall experience. If not, please let me know, then maybe I'll just turn them into a Spotify playlist.

Sleep has become my escape. A temporary withdrawal from reality in which I live to remember everything Jungkook has forgotten. Sleeping through each passing day, I know that at least in my dreams we are still together. In my dreams, I will always find my way back to you, Koo. Even if you don’t remember it, the moon knows that we were once in love. It hears my helpless cries at night and feels every atom of my being that misses you, fearing the idea of us becoming strangers once again. 

It’s as if my happiness was erased with his departure. Holding my hand through each step of the way, he showed me the beauty in life and ended up being the one to take it all away when my fearing heart failed to reciprocate the painfully obvious love tethered between us. Now, my life is dull and pointless. How can I love someone else when every night I dream of you, Koo?

Swallowing pills to mute the sound of my heart beating for his barest touch, I’ve become lost in my own mind, haunted by everlasting thoughts. Although I thought I would be able to at least pretend to be happy for the sake of my family, it’s all become too much. Thus, it was only a matter of days, before my deteriorating behaviour sparked concern in my parents, fueling tension in the air we shared. It all started with fatigue, which then transformed into chronic sleep and in the end began to affect my eating habits. Feeling nauseous from the mere thought of food, I’ve grown to dissociate myself from it. I was hungry, but I couldn’t eat. And, as my hope slowly diminished, so did the number on the scale. 

“Mira, you have to eat,” my mom’s voice echoes in my ear as my eyes fixate on the plate of steamed broccoli in front of me. 

“I’m not hungry, I told you,” I sigh, swallowing down the lie with some water. 

“Mira, honey, please talk to us. What’s wrong?” my dad asks softly, placing his hand on top of mine. Hearing the trembles in his words, my eyes swell with tears before I shake myself out of it.

“I’m fine … just feeling a bit under the weather,”

“The sun has been at its highest peak this whole time, what’s seasonal about this?” my mom tries to remain composed as she shifts her chair closer to mine. 

“Talk to me, honey. What’s gotten into you? You were so excited to come back,” her hands caress my tangled hair as I nibble on the dead skin on my lip. 

“Mira, you’ve been silent since you came, and now you won’t even eat. Your mom and I can’t bear to see you like this,” 

“Come back home, Miraya. We can find another university here,”

“No. It’s not that. I’m fine, I swear. I just … I just need this break to end already, so I can focus on my studies again. That’ll keep my mind occupied,” I whisper softly, attempting to fake a smile as my empty gaze searches their scattering eyes. Recently, that's how most of our conversations ended. With helpless promises feeding my delusions. However, with each passing day, I come to realise that promises are nothing more than sweet lies. If it weren’t true, I wouldn’t have to find excuses for the aching feeling in my heart, but rather, melt in the overflowing passion of Jungkook’s burning love. 

Excusing myself, I throw away the cold plate of food and head back to my room, one which was once filled with laughter and a carefree sense of ambition. The same walls that watched me cry out of happiness upon receiving my acceptance letter just a few months ago are the ones that now echo my pathetic cries for help. Every inch of this room has become cold and numb, and I’m afraid that there is no more warmth in me that could fix this. 

Crouched in a fetal position as my body shivers under the floral duvet my mom gifted me as a welcome present, I dial Jimin’s phone number. It has been weeks since he moved back to Busan, but I have yet to receive any updates from him about Jungkook. In hindsight, maybe, it’s for the best, but if silence is the thing that'll save me then why do I still hold onto the smallest glimpse of hope for us? Even if it means walking across a minefield of rejected possibilities that would ultimately send me into a never-ending spiral, why do I still care?

“How is he?” I ask with hesitation. 

“Different. He’s different.” Jimin replies softly. 

“What do you mean?” 

“Well, he seems distant. Which is fair, I guess. But, he doesn’t quite seem to remember me,” 

“At all?” my voice shakes as I choke up. 

“Well no, he is still able to recover our memories from when we were kids, but recent events are very blurry,” Jimin goes on. 

I, was recent to Jungkook. We, were recent to him. Four months, that's how long I've known Koo, but I’ve been missing him for the last seven. Each day I daydream, reminiscing our memories, feeling the void in my heart knowing that I’ve been without him longer than I’ve been with him. Maybe, Mrs. Jeon was right. I would be lying if I said that a little part of me didn’t think that the reason for her ultimatum was purely based on a simple dislike of me. You know? Like, she didn’t see me as a good match for her son? Because, even then, her disapproval of my character would have been an easier pill to swallow than knowing that now, in Koo’s empty eyes, I’m no longer his Peaches, but a stranger. God, it hurts to even say it out loud let alone accept it. I can’t accept it, but I have to now, don’t I?

“Please take care of him for me Jiminah,” I manage to let out, wiping the tears rolling down my face. 

“I will Mira, don’t worry. I’ll see you soon, okay?” 

“See you,” I end the call, throwing my phone across the bed, my puffy eyes irritated by the brightness. 

That night was especially hard. Although my body was desperately wanting to succumb to the exhaustion, my mind wouldn't shut up. It kept replaying our memories, reminding me of the things I should have said. The words Koo never heard, but deserved to.

--

Hugging my mom, her trembling hands tighten their hold on my sweater as I take in the smell of her perfume for the last time. I missed her a lot, and the guilt of putting my parents through that torture has been eating me alive this whole summer. All they wanted was to see their daughter smile and I failed to fulfill even the simplest of their wishes. If only they knew how much I wanted to smile again. 

“Mira, I’m telling you again, we can find another university here,” my mom says with teary eyes. 

“Just say yes, and we’ll deal with all the transfer stuff, honey,” my dad joins, caressing my palms, as I let out a soft chuckle before shaking my head no. 

“That’s not fair. You guys didn’t raise a quitter,” I manage to let out, feeling my throat tighten from the build-up of emotions. 

“You’re right, we didn’t. But, even the strongest soldier needs a shoulder to cry on. Remember that we are and always will be by your side, Miraya,”

“Call us as soon as you land, love,” 

Passing through the airport security, I wave to my family my last goodbyes before heading to my gate. Am I excited to come back to Seoul? I don’t really have a choice, do I? That God-awful Nursing degree won’t finish itself, so yeah, I kind of have to go back. But, I know that school isn’t the only thing pulling me back. I know I can’t, but I still wish to see Jungkook, even from afar, it doesn’t matter. All I want now is to know that he is doing well.  

I’m not sure how, but as soon as my head rested against the seat my body shut down, falling into a much-needed sleep. I probably would have slept through the whole 12-hour flight if it weren’t for the bright beams of sunlight penetrating through my heavy eyelids. Taking a glimpse out the airplane window, I no longer saw snowy mountains but rather blossoming fields of greenery scattered within the busy cities of Korea. And, as the captain went through his ending speech, a flood of international students lined up near the exit, eager to get back into their previously established routine. It’s funny because I was sitting next to one of my cohort members from last semester, but we were both too tired to even realise. 

Nonetheless, putting my passport and ticket back into my carry on, I rolled my luggage down the escalator before a familiar voice called out my name. Searching the crowd of strangers filled with overwhelmed emotions, my eyes stop at a particular boxy smile. 

“Long time no see, Flip-flops!” Tae shouted across the hall, before waving me down to where he was standing with Jiah and Jimin who were just as excited about my arrival. Feeling my eyes swell with tears, I couldn’t help but laugh at his cute, little dance as he pulled me into a warm hug. 

“Tae, I’m certain you just don’t know my actual name,” I say with a grin, looking up at his sparkling eyes. 

“Of course, I do MJ,” he grins, rubbing the top of my head. Ha ha ha, isn’t he just a comedian? For context, my government name is Mira Jean … hence, the birth of MJ. 

“That’s enough, let us hug her too,” Jiah chuckles, opening her arms as my body virtually melts into her embrace. With tears rolling down our faces, her grip tightens around my form as she lets out a sudden gasp. 

“Mira! My goodness, why are you so small?” she asks with a concerned tone, her wide eyes scanning my body. Although, I always managed to maintain my normal weight, I guess, not eating properly for 3 months left its mark on the way I looked. As the numbers on the scale decreased, I became more and more fixated on the protrusion of my bones. I hated the feeling, but, I also couldn’t stop. Because I couldn’t get myself to eat, I relied on baggy clothes to create an illusion that would satisfy people’s perception of me. Unfortunately, I failed to fool Jiah as she saw right through the act. 

“I just stopped eating so much junk food, I’m fine. Trust me, this is a good thing Jiah, now I can finally fit into my favourite pair of jeans,” I try to laugh the pain away, caressing her hands as her furrowed eyebrows slowly release their tension. She isn’t convinced but also, doesn’t want to create a scene in public. I know that follow-up questions will be brought up along the way, but for now, my attention is focused on looking for someone who I know isn’t there. It’s silly, but before spotting Tae, a little part of me hoped to see Jungkook. To witness his sparkling doe eyes and bunny teeth, once again, like the good old times.  

“Okay, it’s settled, we are all going to my favourite Korean BBQ place,” Jimin exclaims, giving me a quick wink before grabbing both of the luggage out of my hands, and handing one to Tae. And, as Jiah intertwines her hands with mine, we exchange soft smiles exiting the airport as my skin finally feels the fresh, humid air of Seoul. Stopping mid-walk, I let out a deep sigh of relief. I hated every second of my summer, it was nothing short of pure torture but, at least, it too passed. 

“You’re good?” Tae whispers, softened gaze focused on my flushed cheeks. 

“Yeah,” I say softly, taking another deep breath as his arm caresses my shoulder. 

“He’s fine, Mira,” his words pierce through my ears as I unconsciously shoot him an alarming look. 

“You’ve heard from him?” I rush my words, anticipating his answer as my chest heaves up. 

“No, but I can feel your pain,” his tone is quieter now, eyes still searching mine. 

“I’m fine, Tae,” I mumble under my breath, lowering my head in fear of breaking down in front of them. 

“Just know that I’m always here for you, okay?” he says, pressing a soft kiss on my head before wrapping his arm around my shoulders. If only he could hear the way I’m screaming inside. The way I’m calling out for help. For someone to find hope in my hopeless state of mind. If only he knew how much I miss Jungkook. 

“Okay,” I whisper.

“Following the tradition, I will be hosting my annual house party before school beats all of our asses,” Jimin chuckles, caressing Jiah’s hand as their eyes focus on each other. Forcing down some dumpling soup into my system, I feel nauseous, but can’t risk growing Jiah's suspicion more, so I attempt to eat as little as possible without her noticing. 

“So, Mira, please come. Jungkook will be there as well,” Jimin continues with a soft smile which slowly fades upon noticing my gaze drop. Letting go of my spoon, my fingernails dig into my cold palms, as I’m back at square one. How am I supposed to face him when I can’t even handle the mere mention of his name? It’s not fair. None of them know about Mrs. Jeon’s ultimatum, and I fear that I can’t just simply tell them. So, I gulp down the pain and manage to put on another act, one that I seem to have mastered over the summer. 

“Mira, you’re okay?” Jiah asks, gently rubbing my forearm. 

“Yeah, sorry, I’m a bit jet-lagged. Sure, of course, I’ll come,” I reply with a reassuring smile, before looking at Tae. I recognize the sadness in his eyes because I see it in my own every passing minute. But, I can’t let him in. I can’t betray Mrs. Jeon’s trust, again. Even if it means that I have to betray my own heart.

--

We’ve been walking around the mall for probably 3 hours now and Jiah has yet to find something with that wow factor, meanwhile, I have already found 4 of the nearest exits. The party is set for tonight, and although I have already agreed to come, I can’t get myself to actually face the consequences. I can’t go, what was I thinking. What? Did I think everything was going to be fine once Jungkook saw me? Mira, he doesn’t remember you. 

“Jiah, you know, I really don’t think I should go tonight?” I say, slowly walking in circles as she eyes another mini dress. 

“What? Why?” she stutters, going through racks of possible options. 

“I’m just not feeling well,” I lie, fiddling with my fingers to calm down the nerves. 

“Mira, is something wrong?” Jiah stops what she’s doing before walking closer to my anxious self. 

“I’m fine, really,” I lie again. 

“You don’t look fine. You barely eat, barely sleep, barely talk to me,” she exclaims with a  tone firmer than before. 

“Then stop looking. Please, can everyone just leave me alone? I’m just tired, okay?” I burst, feeling everyone’s eyes on my distressed self. 

“Okay, I’m sorry. What do you need?” she says gently, reaching out her hands.  

“I just need space,” I whisper, crossing my arms in front of my burning chest. 

“Fine, I’ll give you some space. Please call me when you’re ready,” Jiah’s words cut deep as she walked out of the store, leaving me alone with my thoughts. The ones I’ve been trying to run away from this whole time. I can’t even get mad at her. She is only trying to help, but how can she when I keep shutting everyone out? It’s all my fault, I know. I just hope that this isn’t how it ends. I hope I don’t push everyone away, and someone sees right through the mask I put on. Because I’m so lost. I don’t know what to do or who to talk to.

Locking the door behind me I plop onto my bed before finally resting my heavy eyes. And, within minutes, I’m passed out again. I think, I've grown to become eternally tired, no matter how much I sleep, there is just no end to this fatigue. Moving restlessly, I pull the white cover over my shivering body before hearing my phone ring. 

“Ugh, what is it now?” I grunt, squinting from the screen brightness as a small gasp escapes my parted lips. It was 8 pm already. How is that possible? I swear, I just laid my head. But, no, apparently I’ve been asleep for the last 5 hours. 

“Hello?” I manage to let out. 

“Flip-flops? Where are you?” Tae screams through the loud music in the background. 

“Tae, I’m home. What happened?” 

“Mira hurry, Jiah is drunk. You need to come pick her up,” he exclaims with panic in his voice. 

“What? Where’s Jimin? Can he not drive her?” I stutter, lifting myself off of the bed before putting my hoodie back on. 

“You want him to drive under the influence? Of course, he is drunk too,” 

“Well, why can’t you drive them?” I whine, almost pleading. 

“Who said I wasn’t drunk either?” he chuckles, sending me a flying kiss through the phone. 

“Fine, I’ll be there in a bit. Keep an eye on Jiah,” I sigh before grabbing my keys and ID. 

Thankfully, Jimin’s place wasn’t that far from our dormitory so, the ride there was only 10-ish minutes. Nonetheless, I could feel my heartbeat in my throat. And, as the driver finally pulled up to the apartment complex I practically ran inside. Following the sound of loud music, I made my way through the crowd of people who clearly had a little too much fun, as the alcohol in their system could be detected from the next block. 

“Flip-flops!” Tae exclaimed with a big grin. Stopping in my tracks, my eyes diverted to Jiah, who was standing beside him with absolutely no sign of a hangover. In fact, she looked better than ever in her new mini-dress. 

“What? You lied?” I snap, eyebrows furrowing more and more with each step I take towards them. 

“How else was I supposed to get you to come?” Tae chuckles, trying to rub my head before I push his hand away. 

“Get off me,” my tone is harsh as I lower my piercing gaze, shaking my head in disbelief. 

“Oh! Mira, there you are,” I could hear Jimin’s voice getting closer before turning my flushed face. And with that, it felt like time stopped altogether. There was nothing and no one in the room except for him and I. Koo and I. Feeling my gaze soften, I choke up from the rush of emotions in my throat. 

“Hi, I’m Jungkook. It’s nice to meet you,” he says with a warm smile, reaching out his hand as if meeting me for the first time. Before replying, I take a moment to analyze his face. The one I dreamed about every night and the one that caused me so much pain. He looks the same, except, his eyes no longer sparkle like they used to. I guess, we got that in common. 

“Hi …I’m Mira,” I let out a soft smile, before reaching out my own hand. 

“Yah, Kook, you already know her, you guys were best friends,” Jimin chuckles, patting Jungkook’s back.

“Oh, I’m sorry, please forgive me. I'm still trying to piece everything back together,” Koo says, covering his mouth before shutting his eyes from embarrassment. 

Feeling my throat tighten, I quickly excuse myself, before rushing out of the packed room towards the nearest fire escape. I knew it wouldn’t be easy, but why does it feel like I’m going to pass out? It’s as if all the air was knocked out of my lungs. Feeling lightheaded I hold onto the railing and close my eyes for a moment. I can’t believe it. Koo, I saw you but you didn’t see me. You saw a stranger. And, suddenly, there I was, alone again, realizing that everything I feared had come true.

Regaining my composure, I decide to walk back to the party before my eyes are met with his. 

“Not a party animal, huh?” Jungkook grins, stopping in his tracks as his arm leans against the wall. 

“It’s my day off,” I let out a small chuckle, unable to keep his eye contact. 

“So … we were best friends?” he asks softly, hands fidgeting with the chains on his belt. 

“Yeah …” I nod slightly, nibbling on my lips. 

“It’s funny because I don’t remember anything from last year. I could barely recognize my own dad for a while. Jimin helped me a lot, he basically recalled sparknotes of my past for me,” he laughs. Oh, how I missed his laugh.  

“You really don’t remember anything?” I finally look up, searching his scattering eyes. 

“No, not one bit,” his muffled words are interrupted by the growling sound coming from my stomach, as I let out an awkward smile. 

“Oh, are you hungry?” he grins, bunny teeth on full display, as my gaze softens again. 

“No, no, no, I’m fine. I think I’m gonna head home now,” I shake my hands, zipping my hoodie before attempting to walk past him. 

“No, it’s fine, I’ll drive. I’m starving as well,” Jungkook assures, gently pulling onto the fabric as my heart sinks to my feet.

I knew I shouldn’t, but I agreed. I couldn’t say no to Koo. Not, after all the sleepless nights I’ve spent missing his mere presence. And, as we entered the nearest restaurant, everything felt real. He felt real. Even if he couldn’t feel it, my heart was beating for the both of us. For our first hellos, last goodbyes and everything in between. Just for tonight, I wanted to pretend like nothing happened. 

“Oh, look, Mira, they have a special deal on shrimp dumplings, do you like them?” his voice, brings me back to reality as I mute the thoughts running through my head. 

“Yeah, my mom made them for me all the time when I was little,” I smile. 

“Then, I guess it’s your lucky day,” he chuckles with a satisfied grin, before calling one of the waiters. 

“I guess, it is,” I say softly, feeling my throat tighten as I struggle to swallow the lie. Searching his naive eyes my own swell with tears while my body shifts restlessly in the seat. Desperately wanting to cave into the emotions, my mind is haunted by the thoughts of Mrs. Jeon’s letter. And, as I close my eyes for a moment, all I can see are the painful reminders of our enforced distance. Don’t call … Don’t write … Don’t interact. Yet, here we are, here you are, Koo. Live in the flesh, separated by a table and the forgotten story of our past. So close, yet so far that it physically hurts. To him, I’m just another piece of the puzzle that would fill the void in his memories. But, to me, he is the only piece that could make me whole again. 

Previous l Index l Next

[rainroses45]

Lo Que Construimos ☾description: Simon believes your love is his poison, you make him realize it is his cure  ☾a/n: I'm kinda obsessed with cod and needed some ghost love...FLUFF WILL BE ON ITS WAY SOON!! ☾song inspiration: Lo que construimos

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆

You let yourself catch your breath as you smiled lazy at the celling. Happy trails of salty water fell from your illuminated eyes. The moonlight peaked through the flowing curtains, gracing your bodies with droplets of passion. Sweat rolled down from your face as you chased your mind through the wild forest of your thoughts. 

  The pervious shared moments between you and him were special. They were so very special. Everything from his touch, all the way down to his light breathes, tainted your skin with memories. You felt like an art piece on display - he made you fell like an art piece. The way he would display his passion through you, and express his thoughts through your colors. He painted you. A small oil painting who needed to be created for the world to go on; without that creation, there would be no lady in gold or nighthawks to admire if you didn’t come along. 

   The feeling of his titanic eyes staring at you cause you to turn around and stare back. A simple glance infused him with so many emotions: happiness, excitement, love, hope, sadness, it filled him to the brim. Your hair laid loosely on the silk pillow, as your hands laid above your head in a ballerina pose. You looked like an enchanting mermaid at first, but he soon realized you were the siren he warned himself about. 

  The siren that swam into his heart, claws first. You were his pomegranate. His forbidden red rose. The bird pecking on his window warning him of what will come, but he ignored the signs. He became oblivious to it all when you smiled. Just seeing you slowly let out a small smile made him become blind to the red staining your lips. It wasn’t the toxicity killing his crow, but the warmth you were displaying towards it. Simon couldn’t handle it. He just couldn’t handle the love you gave him.

   It wasn’t an overbearing type of love, but one that caused you to feel unrighteous, undeserving of life and everything it brought you. He had blood on his hands and it was tripping on to you, practically pouring out of his hands in a lagoon of screams.

  “I love you Simon,” you creased his loving face. His eyes lit up, but then slowly dilated at the words. You love him, not past tense love, but in this current moment your heart was intwined with his. He needed this. He needed to hear those words before he could let him self settle down. He needed to know you felt the same about your life, about him, about everything. Even if it kills him to know, it makes him feel

better knowing you are at least happy. 

   “I- I love you too.” The words passed through his lips as he continued on to look into your eyes. An award winning smile spread through your face in pure joy at your boyfriend’s words, even if he felt like he didn’t deserve your affection, you still gave it to him. Tonight was just one of those night’s, and you could see how he shied away from your everlasting love. His brain tricked him into thinking it was a poison that would eventually kill him from within, but you were just the cure he didn’t know he needed. 

   “I’m tough,” he whispered, tears began to grace his beautiful irises. The once so calm storm of colors began to overflow with sadness. He never had anything like you before. He didn’t know how to love and be loved back. From birth, it felt like he could only rely on himself to fix everything. His whole world tumbled over in peaceful waves you shaped.

  You nodded turning over to face him fully. Your fully exposed body laid bare in the moonlight. The scars you gain over the years were covered in love kisses, your stretch marks felt numb from the amount of times Simon creased them in adoration. Your eyes barely stayed open, you still felt his touch throughout your artwork even when he was away. 

   “I know you are,” you stated, delicately stroking his face. The long scar on his face didn’t take away from his dashing looks. It only showed how tough and strong he truly was. 

   “I can take care of myself.” He grunted out, his eyebrows furred in frustration. More silent rain drops of sorrow blemished his face, you wiped his tears away with your thumb, allowing him to let the tide wash over him. 

 “You have,” you said softly, he closes his eyes believing into the

myth that it would stop the flow of waterworks. “You still do my love. You always will. I’ve just joined in, too. Now we take care of each other.” Your words hit him hard, finally breaking down the barrier within him. This isn’t how he should be seen, but he lets it out when he is with you. 

 “I love you Y/n.” Simon said staring into your eyes. His look so deep and stern it made you sigh at his lack of observation. He made it sound like you didn’t know, as if you were oblivious to his love and affection. 

  “I know sweetheart.” You responded back giving him a kiss on the crown of his head. Your heart raced at the sound of those three special words. You dated him for four years and it felt like eternity waiting for him to share the same feelings out loud. 

  “And I swear on everything good on this earth that I will protect you until my last breath.” He promised hugging your waist tighter. He couldn’t let you go, he can’t just easily let you go. He looked at you like he just realized what love is, and he couldn’t just let it go. 

   “I know you will Simon.” You said with a light tone, a hand running through his dirty blonde hair. The sadness of it all really set down on those words. You knew he would always protect you, but in reality he was gone half the time - leaving you to bathe in your thoughts and life alone with a ghost.

  “I’m sorry.” His words sunk into your skin like ink. It was already written down to ensure that the world knows how this will end, but he was willing to beat the odds. You made him happy. What more in the world could he want? You made him happy, and he made you happy. That is all that matters.

  “I know Simon.” And with that Simon went to bed, drifting back into the bed you once laid in, forgetting the cold absence of your breathe. The last thought floating in his mind before he woke up from his reality, “One day, I’ll marry you.” And he was out like a light. 

[terrence-silver]

What signature moves do TIG's characters have (any that you want, but as always I'm partial to CK Terry and Cash) when trying to seduce beloved for the first time? I know that most mortals would hop into bed with him without him needing to lift a finger, but let's say for argument's sake beloved doesn't want to seem easy.

---

― For Terry Silver, one would think his signature move of seduction is flaunting his wealth, money, connections, mansions, cars, material possessions and himself too primarily, because, well, he's Terry Silver and he knows entirely the effect he has on people, a factor he majorly and very gleefully exploits at any given opportunity, but I feel strategies like this are ironically reserved for individuals and situations he has an entirely transactional leaning towards. You scratch my back, I reward you for your due diligence once you deserve it because nothing's for free. He's a shrewd businessman and Machiavellian after all and some things in life are strictly business. For people he genuinely likes, though? His seduction equals with big promises he entirely intends to make come true to their fullest and then some. Promises of everlasting devotion. Protection. Fealty. Pretty much fixing someone's life from the bottom up. Helping his person get away with bloody murder, if need be. You name it. Terry flinches from nothing. Never. He's a shockingly gracious and stubbornly forthcoming person to be loved by when you really think about it. At his most honest, Terry can be as blunt and transparent as grabbing someone by the shoulders, looking right into their eyes and just openly telling them everything he intends to do for them for the rest of their life, always, and then staying true to his word with every fiber of his being seeing as how he makes it his life's mission to do right by his beloved. If that isn't enough to not only seduce someone but make them swoon with intoxicated wonder and bewilderment, then I don't know what will.

― In the case of Terry McCain, jumping into bed isn't paramount to him, because in his own words, vaguely paraphrased from memory, that isn't a priority to him and he's not that kind of guy. Even though, validly, he could get all the action he wanted if he wanted. Thing is, he doesn't want it. Not from just anyone. Only one special person. Catholic principles, huh? As such, his signature move is poised more on love and how he achieves that is by being available for his beloved whenever and however --- whether they agree to it or not. Which means this man will almost stubbornly be in beloved's shadow, tail them, be close at hand, pester them to a degree if need be and pretty much insert himself into their life until he's accepted by them however long it takes. Breaking into their life, privacy and sphere, literally and figuratively isn't entirely out of the question either. He is stubborn, he is temperamental and he won't give up until the subject of his affection accepts him and his advances; a tactic slightly contradictive for a man who's existence is dedicated to the upholding of law and order. But, you see, Terry doesn't think he's doing anything wrong or that he's even some sort of sleaze with ulterior motives who's committing a crime of passion. Not like those lowlives on the streets he apprehends. He is himself and they're...them. No, no, he seduces by being consistently there until it becomes a given he's sleeping with you. And eventually? You'll simply have to understand and accept just how much he cares for you. That he's the best for you. Always was. Just took him never giving up for you to see it.

― Gus Travis is a gangbanger and his method of seduction is, initially at least, typically streetwise and the approach any tatted up bad man in a leather jacket with a gun tucked into his jeans would go for; a hint of danger, a hint of sexiness, coming at you first and doing so boldly, buying you a drink or five, putting his arms around you, heated banter, flirting very openly, jealously getting in your space and ensuring every other person within eye distance steers clear of you because for the time being, this is his turf. But, it ain't that simple, because Gus has layers to him and while he might seem like a dangerous, detached criminal sort (and god knows he is) the very process of the seduction it takes to get you into bed might just hit Gus harder than the very subject of the seduction and he very well could end up smitten with you when it was you was supposed to be enchanted by him first and he might end up smitten way before he gets anywhere near second base. Man falls into his own trap, in a sense, and yeah, suddenly, getting to fuck you simply isn't enough anymore. He's here thinking being exclusive, claiming you, making you the Bonnie to his Clyde, tattooing your face over his heart, marriage, being partners in crime, and for all we know, sailing the seven seas with you in a boat bearing your name. His imagination runs wild and he seduces himself where you are concerned. Man's actually pathetically in love and he gets to this state awfully quickly. What starts out as him trying to get into your pants might just result in being tied to him in matrimony a week from then.

― Jack Blaylock's signature move of seduction is being relatable. Being more or less just some guy working as a PI out abroad. Posing himself as interesting enough to be peculiar and catch the attention of those who seek him out and even those who don't, with a dash of being seemingly ordinary enough to feel secure. Being that whiff of civilian normality, safety and the known in an unknown place. You could almost be relieved wherever you're travelling in the world that you stumbled upon a kindred spirit like him in a sea of strangers and that as a result, you've someone to share similar topics with, similar interests, anecdotes, worldviews, desires, but little do you know Jack, or rather Timothy, deliberately placed himself on your path and designed whatever persona he presents to you to intentionally appeal to you so far from your roots. To get you to trust him. Open up to him. Come to him for help and advice. Put your guard down. To give him the chance to befriend you. Sure, act the honeypot by taking you to bed and making it seem like a spontaneous development of things. This is a professional deformation of his, being an undercover Hitman --- utilizing subterfuge to get a target disarmed. Not that you're a target...but in a way, yeah, yes you are. You're his target. The prime target. The target that matters most. So, fact is, Jack will literally befriend you straight into seduction, into his bed and then right into his crosshairs.

― When it comes to Cash, I don't figure he seduces --- he just takes. Because, keep in mind, he's not the oratorial type. He isn't a schmoozer. He won't charm in the classical sense. He won't act slick. He won't be braggadocious. He won't utilize big words. Sometimes even no words at all. He won't jump through verbal hoops of fire to knock someone off their feet because that's just not in his character to do. His signature 'move' isn't him being any sort of Casanova. His signature move is his quiet audacity. The fact he'll know all your whereabouts. The in's and out's of your life. Your comings. Goings. That he'll totally abuse the privileges of his badge to discover all he can about you. What's the worst that can happen? He'll get suspended? Heck, he already got suspended for much, much worse. That he'll watch. Observe from afar. In broad daylight, if need be. Yes. Stalk. And he doesn't even particularly care if it's stalking. He developed an interest and this territory? You in it? It's all his. One step at a time, without beloved, beloved you even noticing he slips closer and closer to the target and by the time you two officially 'meet' you'll never really know that Cash has already met you months ago and knows everything there is to know about you. Who would've thought? He seems so unassuming too. Strong, silent type. Cop. The way you 'met'? Undoubtedly just as unassuming and day-to-day ordinary to the degree there's no discernable tactic one can single out for Cash to use. He just appears in your life. And yet, all the strategies he utilized to get there were undoubtedly a web of complex machinations tucked behind a silent facade that ensure you'll never even put two and two together that this man basically besieged your whole life and virtually took you hostage a long time ago.

― Jan Valek doesn't have signature moves in the modern, contemporary understanding of it all. Man's medieval. Quite literally speaking. His manner is medieval. His view of things is medieval. And his approach is, in weird ways, medieval too, regardless of the fact he's been alive for six centuries; much of him hasn't changed and remained frozen in time, just like he himself has. There's something almost chivalrous to him in spite of him being quite literally The Father of the Damned. There's something worshipful and adoring as he presses a lingering kiss to his beloved's hand, talks about them in highly idealistic and poetic terms and looks at them like they hung the stars and the moon itself on the sky right from the get go, mixing raw eroticism with an anachronistic, near courtly feel for romance, quite literally loving them into seduction and it could, technically, taking a vampire's innate, supernatural charm into consideration, take him no time at all to consummate beloved, as such, his trick, if it can even be called a trick, on how he gets beloved to open up for him like a blossoming flower is by downright wooing them like they're heavenly perfection itself and in his eyes --- they are. None of this is a ploy or a ruse. Manipulation. Strategy. For Jan Valek, this is absolute honesty. His undead heart wholly and entirely on display. So, if beloved gives in, it'll be genuinely because of how unabashedly lionizing and reverent Jan Valek is towards them, bordering on deification. After all, how many people, immortal or mortal will compare the subject of their interest to God's light and the Sun itself and actually mean it?

[acid-ixx]

watching the fatui's appearance is... making me want to rewrite the sagau isekai fatui fanfic ive had in my drafts for six months

here's the basic premise to it: you've been isekai'd in genshin, as all things have been written, but instead of Dragonspine; you found yourself stranded in snezhnaya — freezing and near death— where one of the harbingers have found you and went to take you in the palace.

you faced the tsaritsa and thought yourself to be dead before the next day, but with the way that certain harbinger had been welcoming even through ice-cold fingertips, you doubt your theory. it was then the tsaritsa took your hand so passionately in front of all the harbingers and kissed it, offering you power and by extension, all the gnoses she has so far.

she calls you divine, how her love is no more but you're her sole exception, how she wishes to take it upon her sinning hands to worship you as you deserve. how she yearns for your warm touch and your presence. how, even through your absence, she'd work dutifully as she feels every part of you, albeit never seeing your face til now. all this, she claims with a serious face.

and for the past few days, they keep you all to themselves and you learn how they show you their affection.

the tsaritsa being stoic, yet she holds your waist protectively as you sit on her lap. she worries about pleasing you and offers you grand service, being the one to present you your room personally, ordering everyone to respect you. she spoils you a lot and although her affection may be awkward, she's trying and greatly enough, the coats embedded on her body is enough to guarantee warmth in the everlasting winter of snezhnaya.

childe acting like a knight to you with a self-sacrifical behavior, claiming to be a tool to be used, a weapon to brandish. he offers to fight the other harbingers for you if ever you'd be overwhelmed by their overbearing presence. his self-esteem is high, but never his self-worth and you often have to reassure him he doesn't need to work hard for the sake of pleasing you.

scaramouche being a needy lapdog who's often aggressive and rough but the moment your touch graces him, he's all but melting. you never find yourself alone because you somehow end up feeling his presence nearby. same goes with childe and everyone else, though — but scaramouche takes extra steps to keep you for himself.

il dottore would often offer you oversee his experiments and gives you an oversight on his future plans. at first glance, he's not as affectionate as he seems, but he works in the background by threatening those behind your back and speaking so passionately about his worship of you. in moments he does show his affection to you, he turns a bit? unsettling? to the point it can sometimes get too much (that's where childe or scaramouche (childe mostly) comes barging in to "protect" you), speaking of how he'll cleanse anything that's threatening your divine rulership.

la signora is cold, that's how you could describe her at first. not to you, but to others. she defends your every actions, whether wrong or not and has a mean face, but you know she confides in you. when you're both alone, she displays a more raw and tired expression that not one knows and you always have to offer your comfort. whenever you feel like the climate is too frigid, her butterflies are always near you, serving as warmth and a guide whenever you're lost.

and the other harbingers? I don't know them much yet but ill work my way around it

[thytaenic]

( JAMIL'S LOVE LANGUAGE )

"define love." "how sudden. you're not pulling a prank on me th-" "just answer it, jamil. please?"

love. four letters, one syllable, thousands of meanings. what could love possibly mean for jamil viper? he gazed into your eyes full of anticipation and oh dear, he knew he needed to be serious about it. but with you by his side, why would he be sceptical about your question? letting his guard down for you would be the best action now. as he turned around to face you, now sitting in front of you with both hands reaching out to bring his lover's hands into his bigger ones. he never have a thought of looking so vulnerable in front of you, not when that question triggered a sense of overflowing love and affection towards his significant other in him.

he didnt dare to look at you in the eyes, afraid he would see disappointment in those sparkly eyes of yours who was expecting a more of a complex answers from him. "love is, putting someone first before you in all occasions."

"and?" you asked, dragging the word further as a signal that you wanted to hear more which jamil replied with a chuckle and a cheeky smile. "of course. i would expect nothing less from a sunshine like you."

this time, jamil's eyes boldly invited yours into a hot staring for a moment. a reflection of him in your eyes was what ignited the passion in him to continue. those look you gave. its what has always been his serotonin, happy pill, power and strength to continue living despite the difficulties. love. he knew its more than just putting you first in everything you did together.

his thumbs began to create illusions of circle on the back of your hands. "i would risk everything to make you understand how much more than just love you are to me."

pink tint of blush crawled onto your cheeks, hearing those words uttered by jamil like a vow. no, more than that. it sounded like an everlasting promise that he wouldnt dare to break, at least not until death does them apart. "i think you said too much than you mean, jamil."

too much? all he said was a questionable answer, a typical answer from one lover to one lover. he still wanted to say more than just those. he wanted to tell them how much their smile made their days. he wanted to show how much their kiss sparked happiness in him. jamil was completely taken aback to see you doubting his words. did he uses too much of obscure words? he wanted to express how much more than just words his love for them was. he wanted to say and show so much more than just those bullshits from typical classic romance novels he read in his free time.

"no. you asked for this so listen. i want you to look me in the eyes and eat all my words. one by one, not a single crumb should be left." he leaned closer but this time, he left a long-lasting kiss on your forehead. your eyes slowly fluttered to close as your arms found their way over jamil's shoulders and around his neck, pulling him closer to lengthen the kiss. truly, you yearned for more than just a kiss on a forehead. now laying on the mattress with jamil trapping them between his knees still lovingly pouring everything he wanted to say into the kiss, you couldn't help but moved your hands up from the sides to cup his burning cheeks.

pulling away from the kiss, he then rested his forehead on yours. red watery eyes, he's getting emotional with all this affections hes giving to the one whom he wouldnt hesitate to slide a ring on their finger soon. "promise me you'll stay, y/n?"

"but i am here, am i not?"

"forever. through thick and thin, i want you to always be with me, alright?" he couldn't care less. he knew how greedy and desperate he sounded right now but who fucking cares. its not a normal occasion for him to feel this desperate to seek for one's love, especially from whom he called his.

you smiled softly at him before tilting your head to the side. jamil understood immediately, leaning in as their lips intertwined with yours in a dancing-butterflies manner. it sent shivers down your spine, pecks of goosebumps on your arms and those wet intimate kissing sounds echoing in his room. a kiss he always shares with you is different from this one. this one right here is so full of emotions. sadness, happiness, fear, joy, you name it. one he would rarely get to share with you. his lips on yours, how they fit so perfectly with his hand now acted as a support while the other one made its way to your cheek, thumb caressing it oh so lovingly.

he's scared. scared that you might pick up your haste and walk away from him the very next day. it scared him, he didn't even want to pull away but you on the other hand, pulled away for a split second from the kiss to gasp for air.

"you're beautiful, ya amar. so fucking beautiful."

its always those arabic nicknames you get from him that keeps you feeling warm and fuzzy throughout the days. his love language is just as beautiful as his name.

this time, jamil took the lead and leaned closer after he whispered those words with you looking like a mess under him, pulling you into another sloppy long kiss. not giving you a second to process those words he just pledged. there's really no need to rush into the kiss, jamil knew that the best. after all, he's yours. you have always been his to love, his to care for, his to kiss and his to die for. as much as he's devoted to kalim and al-asim's family for generations, his heart is always a devotee of your love.

they parted from the kiss, forehead on forehead. nose brushing against each others. lungs gasping for air from that breathtaking kiss. jamil couldnt get enough of that kiss. the feeling of your cherry lips dancing with his, its a euphoric feeling only he could have.

"if dawn is created to wake me up to continue living, be my dawn. if you're not willing to be my dawn, let me see you as a moon, ya amar."

"why moon, jamil?" you asked softly, eyes never once leaving the fellow's gaze that soften at the sight of your smile to him.

"im giving you the role to witness our love-life cycle."

[aphroditelovesu]

hi my honey pie!

Can I get a love letter for Alexander the Great and Julius Caesar?

A marriage letter for the reader I thank you for this (⁠´⁠ε⁠｀⁠ ⁠)

Alexander the Great

My Queen,

Today, on this blessed day of our marriage, it is impossible to contain the love I feel for you, my love. Every beat of my heart echoes with the sound of your name, and my every thought is a tribute to your beauty and grace.

I am blessed to have you as my wife, and I am willing to do anything to protect and care for you. I promise to be your shield against any danger that dares to threaten you, and I will be by her side at all times, even when the darkness of night falls upon us.

I promise to conquer the world and give it to you.

My Queen, (Y/N), my love for you is so overwhelming that the gods themselves would envy the intensity of what I feel. Iwould do anything, absolutely anything, to keep you happy and safe. You are my reason for living, my love, my eternal wife.

Please know that my passion for you is like a blazing fire that burns in my heart. No matter what happens, my desire for you will never wane, and my devotion will be everlasting. And now we're married and that's more important than anything.

A happy and loving husband,

Alexander.

Julius Caesar

My beloved,

On this sacred day of our marriage, my heart overflows with a love so deep I cannot contain it. You, my love, are the reason why my existence took on meaning. Every moment I spend with you is like a dream I never want to wake up from.

I am blessed to have you as my wife, but I must also warn you, my love, that my affection for you is passionate and intense. I promise to be your shield against any threat that dares to approach you. Anyone who tries to steal your heart will be met with my indomitable fury.

My dear, understand that my love for you is like a people who never bow down. If you ever dare to think about leaving me, know that I will do everything possible to keep you by my side. Our fates are unbreakably intertwined, and any attempt at separation will have dire consequences.

You are my everything and no one will steal you from me.

Always remember how much I love you, my beloved, for that love is so deep and enduring that it knows no bounds. I'm willing to do anything to protect our love and keep you safe.

A completely infatued husband,

Julius Caesar.

[mari-lair]

HII!! What is a flower you associate with each of the components from the sunflower trio??

And as a group too!

I think they fit the lily of the valley very well, it's pale and beautiful and it's said to ward off evil spirits

Example: akane hates supernaturals, teru exorcises them and aoi was dragged away from them

(far shore war flashbacks)

Oh also it's poisonous as well sooo-

Well tell me what you think!! ^^

Ooooh warding off evil for the trio is so cool! I looked up and the lily of the valley's poison can be used for healing too, the duality of it fits the trio vibes really well to me! My very helpful very awful trio <3

I don't have a flower I associate with the three as a whole, except the titular sunflower, but I do have some for them as individuals!

For Teru it's dandelions.

Dandelions are hard to explain why I relate it to him, but I'll try: They are called 'dente de leão' in Brazil, which means 'lion's teeth' and are classified as a weed but are very loved for a weed, there is even a saying that "if you make a wish and blow off all of the dandelion puffs, your wish will come true." The childish nature of it, the association with a predator, the way every kid I knew always lit up when they saw it, the way they are so easy to be damaged but impossible to get rid off. It's very Teru to me.

For Akane it's red roses and orange lilies.

Red Roses cause they are heavily associated with romance and passion, and he is an old-fashioned loverboy to me. Put his whole heart into everything.

Orange Lilies cause they are orange like my boy! But also cause they are related to enthusiasm, job, and love for life.

Just look at what Google tells me! Is very Akane to me

Pride, hatred, and contempt are the negative associations of orange lilies, which I think fits him too. The boy is so prideful he goes straight into arrogance.

Aoi is bellflowers and yellow roses.

Bellflowers are purple like her and very beautiful, truly stunning flowers! Their meaning is cute too: everlasting love, and affection, some even relate the flower to Venus, the goddess of beauty and love. It fits her image and the sweeter parts of her character.

Yellow Roses can mean joy or jealousy, and it is hard to know the intent behind it when you're given one. It's a rose associated with friendship which sounds weird since Bellflowers is 'everlasting love' but I swear she is both. She is far less scared of friendship than romance.

Her yellow rose definitively has thorns.

[uroboros-if]

This is a two-part question for "is there a Valentine's Day?" and ROs reactions! Scroll past the orange headers to skip the spiel on celebrations of love and saying "I love you".

༺═──────────────

Technically, there are two kinds of celebrations of love. Sal te Hila, or "Day of Love," is to celebrate people whom you love deeply--may it be family, close friends, or lovers.

"Quine" refers to affectionate love, in reference to the god of passionate love, Quin. You use it towards friends, casual partners, family members, or to describe yourself. "Hila" is a much stronger form that you may use towards friends, a serious partner, family members, and yourself. This is in reference to Hilaria, goddess of everlasting love. "Quine" is casual; you use it when you're proud of yourself for an achievement, or to casually express your affections. Using "Hila" is more of a declaration and assertion of love, reserved for people you are much closer to, or yourself.

Sal te Hila doesn't make any distinctions between familial, platonic, and romantic love. Any of these may be celebrated on this day.

To tell someone I love you, you say, maju hila, or "you are love." To describe self-love, it is maje hila or "I am love." You say mos hila or "we are love" to refer to a community.

These are all to say, love is stored in you :)

Lastly, there is Sal te Desatana. This is "Day of the Universe". This is to celebrate a love even deeper than Hila -- a love for the entire universe. In Galaio's faith, nothing is more important than your love for not just your immediate community, but the entire community of the world -- animals, plants, humans alike. You shall adore and revere all of existence. This kind of love is called "Desa".

You do not use this love in any other context. To use it for yourself would be considered incredibly blasphemous, placing you above all of creation and divinity. To use it for someone else would also be off-putting, as your love for someone should not be greater than your love for the Universe. You use it to refer to everyone. Not to say you can't physically use it -- it is just blasphemous. The only socially appropriate way to use desa is mos desa, as in loving the community of the world.

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The parents can totally join in on Sal te Hila! Mortals likely don't have access to cacao and therefore chocolate, but we will pretend they do.

SALVATORE. Their eyes would glow and sunbeams would come out of their face. "You are love," they'd say softly, hugging your gift close to their chest. They'll frantically share what they got you, too, shoving the gift in front of you and telling you to take a look! They're probably sweets or food they know you enjoy, and they'll want to eat with you in the mortal world, wherever the sun shines.

LUCIEL. At first, their reaction isn't visible. However, their hands slowly reach out to take your gift. You watch them as they grasp it gently and pull it towards them--and that's when you see the soft smile gracing their lips and lighting their sad, lovely eyes. They will bring you a gift personal to you, whatever seems to captivate you, and you think that is love.

CIOCANA. They extend their hands to take your gift. If you weren't perceptive, you might miss the way they slightly tremble, hesitate. Before they allow you to question it, however, it's within their reach and they take it from you, slightly flushed. They'd smile and thank you for it, assure you that they will treasure it forever--playfully (maybe). Ah, they have a gift for you as well! Probably something they made themselves, and they'll proudly declare that.

ALESSI. Slightly embarrassed and yet so awash in joy that it flutters up their throat, they're startled into laughing and take your sweets. These are delightful to eat, and Alessi has likely never tried this kind of sweets. They will also have brought you food they made themselves, and have you share the food between yourselves. Nothing is more divine, more sacred than sharing a meal.

NERO. Nero would offer a small smile and take your gift like a prayer. If it's not obvious what it is, he'll ask if he can take a look at it. He seems to smile even wider when he sees what you've given him, a rare sight. If you're okay with touches, he'd hug you, and if not, he'd turn his adoring eyes to you and thank you.

RAFAELE. He'd be hasty to take your gift from you, grinning ear to ear, but he'd unwrap your gift with care. He's already making guesses as to what you could've given him, and he cries out in joy when he sees it, especially if it's something he guessed--or even better! If you're good with touching, he'd scoop you up in a hug and even kiss you on your head, saying "thank you thank you thank you!" again and again. Otherwise, he'd just jump in place and clasp his hand and thank you just as much.

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This is such an incredible ask! Thank you so much for sending me so many asks once more, and don't worry, I played a lot of otome games, too!! My first real one is Amnesia Memories, but one of my favorites that I haven't played but read about is Code: Realize. Maybe absolute favorite is Tokimeki Memorial: Girl's Side 2.

Thank you so so much for the ask ❤️❤️