#suspended in dusk

[vanalex]

[starlit-rain]

With every victim I pray for my own death

And as much as I love the night

I curse the moon's eerie glow

This blood lust that drags me forever

The toxic rays of dawn that condemn me to limbo

I am forced to dwell in gray Autumnal twilight

I am suspended in dusk

[m39]

Doom WADs’ Roulette (2005): Suspended in Dusk

G4: Suspended in Dusk

Main author(s): Esa Repo (Espi)

Release date: October 8th, 2005

Version played: ???

Required port compatibility: Vanilla

Levels: 4

After Ruma from 2002, we once again welcome Espi to review one of his WADs. This time it’s Suspended in Dusk, a four-maps-long WAD that supposedly maximizes the potential of Vanilla Doom compatibilities by making maps as detailed as possible (by the 2005 standards that is). Let’s hope it won’t come out at the cost of fun.

Okay, let’s get it done with the obvious one – This WAD looks great. And it’s even more incredible that it was done without features from any source ports; it is all vanilla stuff. Sure, the doors opening sideways is just a trick and not real; yes, some of the elements are in the ground before popping out; And, of course, boxes held by a crane arm are just standing on invisible platforms; but if back in 2005 you showed this WAD to someone, and told them it doesn’t require a limit-removing source port, they wouldn’t believe you; I guarantee that.

There is also some new music... which is just stuff from Doom I...

Oh well. It’s still better than stocks from Doom II.

There are also new sound effects, and they are meh at best. It kind of repeats the problem I had with Espi’s previous WAD that I reviewed. I can’t remember how these new effects sounded in Ruma but I don’t think they were better here. Bullet-shooting sounds really off, explosions feel like they were cut short before they ended, and then there is Super Shotgun blast, which sounds now like some kind of slapping mixed with another gun sound. I don’t know where this sound effect comes from but I know one bloody thing for sure; IT DOESN’T FIT WITH THE SUPER SHOTGUN HERE!

But okay, sound effects aren’t worth our time. How about the levels themselves. Are they fun to play?

Not really.

gasps

It actually feels tiring to play all four maps to some degree. And it’s all because of their mangled mazes.

Now I know that the Classic Doom maps usually have a maze-like structure, but here it feels like most of the locations are mazes built out of tight corridors. You will constantly get lost even if you technically know where to go and what to do next.

What’s worse is how the equal amount of time you are forced to backtrack from part of the map to another after using a switch to open one, stinky door; especially when it’s right next to you. And there are barely any shortcuts unlocked; neither after doing what I just said, nor the ones that would lead you back to the previous areas.

While you usually get a shortcut when you grab a key and you can finally use the colored door back to the previous area, in the rest of the cases, almost every time you might as well earn a middle finger that will dangle over your head while going back through the same, tight corridor mazes that you have just suffered through before.

sigh

At least you start the next level where the last one ended. That’s always a plus for me.

Surprisingly, Suspended in Dusk isn’t really that challenging. Even before you get the Super Shotgun after getting the blue key in the third map. It tends to get really cheap though with its difficulty, with how many times it throws hitscanners above or below your position; especially in the second half of the WAD.

Now let me tell you something, folks – even if I think the third map might be overblown and the biggest chore to play when it comes to this WAD, it has a funny moment at the beginning where you damage a bunch of cacos with exploding barrels that you just teleported to give yourself some bigger chances to kill them (especially if you are Pistol-starting).

Not to mention the teleporters encounter after grabbing the blue key on the same map.

Also, at the hub area in MAP04, there will be two Arch-viles teleporting out of pentagrams that pop out of the ground. It’s literally straight out of Doom 3. And it’s great.

This WAD might look great even by today's standards (which I know shit of by this point in time), but the bugs show how the time partially tarnished it with how some of the stuff used for tricks are now exposed due to the newer source port I used with this WAD.

Suspended in Dusk look amazing, there is no denying of that, but it all comes with the cost of fun factor getting hit by the geometry of the maps alongside other questionable decisions. I wouldn’t call this WAD outright terrible, it is far from it, but I don’t think I would like to play it again in the nearest future.

Thankfully, the next WAD on the list is also the one that was the winner of the Mockaward of the 2005. So let’s hope it will lighten my mood after this WAD.

I’ll see you then.

Bye.

[nexus-of-light]

tags yippee!!!!

[goldammerchen]

Lithuania: (pissed off) What makes you think I would like a narcissist like you? Prussia: (not hysterical at all) PFFF, WHAT? YOU LIKE POLAND! Lithuania: That's not—! Is not the same! Prussia: REALLY???!? Lithuania: ...

[misswrittenword]

Imagine you go for a hike alone.

Male!Tentacle Monster x fem!human ~ Tentacles, triple pen, dubcon to consent, lots of cum, breeding, egg preg, tentacle bondage?

It's a cool summer evening and you decide to take a drive to a remote hiking trail in a valley to go get some exercise. You don your biker shorts so you're free of chub rub as well as a sports bra and a tank top before setting on your way, enjoying the breeze as it blows your hair around while you drive.

The small dirt lot where you park is completely empty, but you're pleased with that, it just meant you'd have the trail all to yourself and you wouldn't need to worry about anyone else.

And you were right, sorta.

Dusk begins to settle when you hear a small rustle in the woods to the side of the path. It's dense trees and hard to see, so you just chalk it up to small critters and keep going. Eventually you come to a small clearing on the trail and you elect to stop for a drink of water. You're lost in thought when something brushes against your bare calf. Before you can even finish looking down, something has grabbed you around the waist and begins to pull you back to the tree line.

You scream and fight, reaching at whatever is holding you, only to discover that instead of some crazy person, there's light purple tentacles around you. They have darker splotches, and seem to emit a dim glow. More appear from the darkness as you look around, and they all start to grab at your limbs, carrying you off into the darkness.

Shaking in fear, you're quickly completely restrained as you are drown closer to a large central mass that the tentacles are coming from. it's huge, dwarfing your structure easily and nearly as wide to boot.

"No.. no!" you yelp, as the warm 'arms' of this creature rip your clothes off and hold you suspended in the air. They start to wander over your body, some innocently exploring your face, and others...

Others are teasing at your nipples, beginning to tub at them and squeeze. another ventures across the curve of your ass, before gently poking at your asshole. You clench down in fear and it withdraws momentarily before sneaking higher and skirting over your pussy. Your legs shake as you try to close them, but the tentacles hold firm.

One of them goes for your mouth, but this one seems different than the others. Its tip is rounded and dark, as as it closes in you notice it seems to be oozing some sort of dark liquid. You try to fight it off, twisting your head side to side, but more tentacles hold you firm and it's not long before it forces its way into your mouth.

The liquid is sour at first, but as it begins to leak down your throat, you find it tastes... Sweeter and sweeter, until you shamefully start to suck at the tentacle cock it throat fucks you with. Soon you realize that the pointy ended tentacles have used your distraction to hone in on your vulnerable cunt, and they rub over your clit eagerly.

A larger one starts to enter your pussy hole, teasing and edging in, before another joins and together they start to thrust into you deeply. Filling you, but not enough to please the growing warmth in your belly. You squirm and move your hips, unable to deny how horny the actions of this monster make you.

You clench around them with a small orgasm that leaves you wanting more, but then a larger, much larger tentacle cock similar to the one slowly fucking your mouth appears between your thighs. Pre cum dribbles from its tip, and the two in your hole withdraw as it takes their place.

Muffled pleas for help are garbled on the cock in your mouth, and you moan pitifully as the huge tentacle cock begins to stretch your tiny cunt open. Tears leak from your eyes as the beast holds you still. Any attempts to free yourself are plainly futile.

The head pops in, making way for several inches of purple tentacle to follow, and your eyes are wide with horror as you watch them disappear inside you quickly. Your pussy clenches down as the sensation of being fucked open overwhelms you. You realize that the soaked tentacles which had prepared your cunt have now retreated to your only unoccupied hole.

They tease and push against you, teasing the waters as your mind is flooded by whatever it is in the cum of this monster that's making you feel so tingly and hot. When they realize you offer no true fight, they waste no time and the first one, still soaked by your cunt, spears into your tight little ass.

It burns briefly before the small tentacles on your nipples start to play with you even more intently, and your mind is sated by pleasure again. The other tentacle joins its friend in filling your ass, and you're so stuffed you can't believe your mind.

Moaning loudly, you roll your hips to meet its thrusts, soaking in the feeling of its warm precum squirting inside you before it suddenly pulls free, and you almost sob in dismay.

To your arousal stained horror, the tentacles in your ass also leave your body and the tentacle cock descends to your shuddering ass. Your legs are pulled up towards your ears, and spread as far apart as they can go as it nudges against your puckered hole. Your head shakes with renewed vigor, but nothing can stop the cock as it pushes into you.

It spreads you open in a way you didn't know possible, and your eyes are rolled so far into the back of your head you don't see the new cock coming for your pussy until it's already slipping it's fat head into your hole. You look and almost faint at the sight, it's got to be twice the size of the previous one.

The third tentacle cock fucks into you slowly, your hole straining against it but also sucking it back in whenever it pulls away. You're lost to the sensation of your little holes being stretched beyond what should be humanly possible when all three begin to speed up. Dimly you realize that the two cocks have made a notable bump in your squishy stomach. The sight makes you cum so hard you see stars.

It fucks you for what feels like hours, and you orgasm more than you can count. Eventually the monster lets out some sort of rumble that takes you from your fucked out state and brings you a small amount of awareness.

What you realize makes you squirm again, twisting against your living bonds. You want to beg, whether to be freed or for more you're not sure. Numerous lumps in the tentacle cocks in your pussy and ass seem to rush toward you, and you moan pitifully against the one in your mouth.

Eggs.

Thrusting faster as it cums, the three tentacles bury themselves as far inside you as possible. Hips bucking as you cum too, the one in your pussy seems to change in that instant, narrowing and sinking itself inside your cervix.

You scream around the one in your throat, blacking out momentarily but coming back to the feeling of the first egg as it strains against your pussy hole. The ones going to your ass get stuck too, but it's the one pushing against your cunt that pops in first. You shake and tremble as they force their way inside your little body, doing unknown things to your cervix and filling your womb.

Their transition to your body is made easier by the tentacle monsters cum as it floods into you as well. Warming you, relaxing you. The eggs softly plop together, rolling around in your womb and ass, making room for the ones that follow. This seems to go on forever, and you watch your belly stretch and expand, growing bigger and rounder as the eggs fill you beyond measure.

Even after the eggs run out, and your slightly bumpy belly blocks the view of the cocks in your body, they still thrust idly into you, random spurts of cum making your eyes roll back and your body tighten with another weak orgasm.

It continues forever, into darkness, where the only light is the stars above you and the glowing purple being that owns your body and soul.

You apparently doze, waking near morning. The cock in your throat, while eggless, still pumps cum directly into your stomach at seemingly random intervals.

Undoubtedly a nutrient source for the mother.

You.

[nothingbutsweetwords]

ɴᴏʙᴏᴅʏ'ꜱ ꜱᴏɴ, ɴᴏʙᴏᴅʏ'ꜱ ᴅᴀᴜɢʜᴛᴇʀ

ᴀᴇᴍᴏɴᴅ x ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ!ɴɪᴇᴄᴇ

"...ʏᴏᴜ ᴄᴀɴ ꜱᴇᴇ ɪᴛ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴛʜᴇ ʟɪɢʜᴛꜱ ᴏᴜᴛ"

Word count: 5,600.

Fandom: House of the Dragon.

Pairing: Aemond x Reader!Velaryon!Niece.

Warnings: Angst, mention of SA!, violence.

FALLING — 8. Him.

As they ventured beyond the gardens, the night unfurled before them like an endless canvas, speckled with stars gleaming like precious diamonds. The cool air brushed against their faces, his heart racing with a thrilling anticipation.

Time seemed suspended as their lips met for the first time. She leaned in with a determination that enchanted him, and their brief, gentle kiss pulsed with newfound love. As they separated, he silently wished this moment could last forever. Closing his eyes, he surrendered to the sweetness of her lips once more, and when they eventually pulled away, their hearts beat as one. 

"Goodnight" she whispered, her voice barely audible with emotion of the moment. He studied her divine face carefully. 

"Goodnight" he replied, his heart overflowing with happiness.

His steps were light, almost floating on the ground like it was made of clouds, as he replayed every detail of the encounter in his mind. Her smile, the softness of her voice, the warmth of her eyes. Everything about her captivated him, and now the opportunity to get closer to her lay before him.

The overwhelming feelings swirling inside him formed a maze of complexities and simplicities. He was deeply in love, a truth as soothing as it was exhilarating.

From the moment their eyes first met, something within him surged with indescribable force. Now, after witnessing countless dawns and dusks together, he finally understood the profound signals his body sent and the true sentiments his heart harbored. It was unmistakable: love, destined to flourish, destined to be. He was certain that, had it not been for fate, somehow they would have found their way to each other. Yet, he was profoundly grateful that the gods had paved their path.

The movements of servants and distant voices reached him as a faint murmur. In that moment, he only heard the rapid beating of his own heart and the echo of his steps leading him back to his chambers.

Reflecting nostalgically on the early days of their relationship, particularly that initial meeting in the library, it seemed like ages had passed and yet remained vivid as yesterday. Every moment spent in her company felt all too brief. She had the uncanny ability to transform every experience into something incredibly beautiful, a dream come true, and he perpetually yearned for more.

Upon entering his room, he collapsed onto the bed, paying no mind to the clothes touching the freshly changed sheets. He made no attempt to conceal the radiant smile that illuminated his face, one that seemed determined to etch itself there indefinitely.

His heart raced wildly yet also felt serene, as if it had been sprinting for hours and finally found repose, reassured that he was precisely where he belonged, every fragment of his life fitting seamlessly into place.

It had been his first kiss, a magical, momentous occasion and he was taken aback by its occurrence. It wasn't that he hadn't previously contemplated doing it, or that he didn’t want it, but he had been hesitant to rush into it. 

With the taste of her lips lingering on his, he wondered if that was her first kiss too.

Just as he kept sinking into his thoughts, knocks on the door snapped him out of his reverie. He had completely forgotten that Aegon had promised a visit, and he couldn't wait for this meeting to end so he could see his princess again. The thought of them being alone excited him even more, filling him with indescribable joy. Perhaps, he thought, he could have another one before sleeping—and every night thereafter.

He opened the door with a radiant smile he couldn't care to hide. His elder brother greeted him with an amused and surprised look at seeing him so elated then entered the room followed by a servant carrying a pitcher and two cups. He, still lost in his daydream, watched curiously as the servant placed the things on the wooden table and discreetly withdrew. Aegon seemed more interested in the lady than anything else, but soon, when the door closed, he focused his attention on his brother.

With a quick gesture, he tossed something to Aemond, who caught it mid-air. It was a rough cloth cloak, starkly different from the soft garments he was accustomed to. He unfolded it, furrowing his brow, as he looked at his brother with curiosity.

"Is this my present?" he asked, unable to hide his confusion. He didn't expect much from Aegon, but a dirty cape seemed like a rather insulting gift, even from him.

"No, it's still too early for gifts. Come, sit down" his brother said, pointing to the armchair across from him. Aemond placed the cloak on the back of it, smoothing it carefully. Aegon chuckled softly before pouring wine into the cups.

He sat down, accepting the brimming goblet that Aegon offered. He didn't normally drink as much as his brother, but this time he decided to join him. The elder downed his in one go and set it aside, while he sipped slowly, still eager to receive his gift and return to the princess.

"May I have my gift now?" Aemond began to ask, but was calmly interrupted.

"I know you've been acquainted more closely of late, you and the princess. Especially in the nighttime" Aegon remarked casually, a sly glint in his eye. Instantly, he felt a jolt of alarm, worried that rumors were already swirling through the castle corridors. Aemond held his breath, his heart pounding hard. How could Aegon have found out about that? Then, with a playful smirk, his brother added, clearly relishing the tease: "It appears you hold her in high regard." 

Caught off guard, he struggled for words. His mouth opened slightly in surprise and he remained silent, debating on how to respond.

"She is not the only one aware about the passages, but don’t worry, mother won’t know" Aegon continued nonchalantly. "Is there something you wish to share?" he probed.

After a pause, and under the expectant gaze of Aegon, he admitted: “Well, we… We have spent some time together, yes. And I find her company quite... pleasant.”

"You have feelings for her" Aegon asserted, his tone almost rhetorical.

"Of course I do, she's family" he tried to deflect, attempting to mask the truth of his emotions, but it was feeble. It was all too conspicuous; he was too transparent, and Aegon too perceptive.

His brother's eyes rolled at the predictable response. "Come now, Aemond. Your countenance betrays you." Aegon insisted with unusual calmness. He felt his mouth go dry and nervously took another sip of wine, the silence between them growing tense, charged with an expectation that the elder seemed to enjoy. "You've taken a liking to her, have you not?" he pressed, his expression urging honesty.

Exhaling heavily, he acknowledged the undeniable truth. "Perhaps I do... yes. This is all rather new to me" he admitted softly, revealing his inner thoughts to his brother for the first time. Aegon's smile widened reassuringly. 

"And do you intend to declare yourself?" Aegon inquired knowingly, his tone now softer, almost understanding. For a brief moment, he debated the necessity; after all, they had already shared a first kiss. But the desire to fully reveal himself to her outweighed any doubts.

Aemond looked down, his thoughts invaded by memories. The first time their hands accidentally brushed in the library, the conspiratorial conversations meant only for their ears, the shared laughter that echoed like a melody, and the silences that were anything but awkward. Every detail of her had delighted him, and for once, Aegon was right: he couldn't deny it.

"I must admit, I'm relieved. I thought the only woman you'd ever fancy would be the one from your books." Aegon said, laughing softly. He got serious again, rolling his eyes at his brother’s snarky comment.

"Where are you going with this?" Aemond finally asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

"I'll lend a hand" Aegon offered warmly, a glimmer of mischief dancing in his eyes. He frowned, taken aback by his brother's willingness to assist, yet also stung by the implication that he needed it in this pursuit. While it was true he didn't possess Aegon's effortless charm in certain matters, he was determined to win her heart entirely on his own terms and merits.

Silently, he shook his head and drained his cup in one swift sip.

"Are you not going to drink more?" He asked, surprised, trying to change the course of the conversation, noting that his brother had only had one glass of his favorite drink. Not that he seemed sober, but the fact that he wasn't almost unconscious was somewhat of a surprise.

"Thanks for caring, but even I know my limit. I've had a bit during dinner and in my room" He said with a light laugh. Aemond, not considering that to be little, decided not to argue. "But back to your gift... it's something special. In fact, I did it at your age. Now, I want to guide you through it." Leaning forward, his brother's eyes showed a hint of excitement. "I'll take you to a fun place tonight. A place where you can try new things and become more... experienced."

Aemond looked at him skeptically, trying to focus his vision that was beginning to blur. "What kind of place?"

Aegon leaned, a knowing smile playing on his lips as he filled his cup once more. "Oh, you'll see.”

"I think I've had enough" he murmured.

"Finish this one, and then we may go" insisted Aegon, pushing the cup towards his lips.

Aemond drank the wine with a grimace, noticing his mind beginning to cloud more with each sip.

"Fuck" he whispered, trying to keep steady.

"Feeling more relaxed now?" Aegon asked sarcastically, watching him with a mocking smile. "Is this your first time being drunk?" He nodded, a small laugh escaping his lips at the unfamiliar sensation. "You'll thank me later, I promise. I'm sure it will help you with your... beloved" the elder added cryptically.

"What do you mean by that, Aegon?" Aemond raised an eyebrow, his intrigue deepening.

"It's a surprise," he replied, rising from the sofa and grabbing his cloak, "trust me on this one. Now, shall we?" Aemond sighed inwardly, realizing arguing with his brother would be futile. He nodded reluctantly.

With a theatrical gesture, Aegon headed towards the back door and opened it, revealing the hallway where the princess always passed to see him. 

"Come on, brother" Aegon said with an unusually serious tone. "You're going to love this."

He rose slowly, his mind filled with unanswered questions while grabbing the cloak. Aegon rarely showed such interest in something, which only heightened his curiosity and, at the same time, his wariness.

They left the room and silently made their way through the dark corridors of the castle. Aegon led Aemond to a secret door that he didn't even know existed, then opened it and revealed what lay behind. 

Aemond furrowed his brow and began to shake his head. "I'm not sure this is a good idea" he said cautiously.

"Aemond, could you stop being such a prude for one night?" Aegon scoffed, rolling his eyes in disbelief. "It's your special day; I just want you to see the city.” he explained, then mockingly added: “Don’t tell me you’re afraid."

Aemond had never felt a genuine urge to explore the city, but Aegon's challenging tone, coupled with the slight boldness the wine had imparted, began to wear down his reluctance. Curiosity about the surprise also spurred him on. Moreover, he was eager to meet his beloved princess, and the sooner they finished this, the better. 

Perhaps he could turn this experience into an interesting tale to share later—a memory of the remarkable night that signaled the beginning of a new chapter in his life, a chance to surprise her with a new adventure. He could also learn something more, should she ever wish to make an unforeseen escapade.

They descended the narrow stairs together, with Aegon leading the way. The guards appeared accustomed to the prince frequenting these places and simply opened the doors without questioning.

Once outside the castle walls, entering the city immersed him in a cacophony of noises. He kept his hood up, observing everything with curiosity tinged with caution. Unlike him, Aegon seemed unfazed by the possibility of being recognized, allowing his hair and face to be fully exposed and even exchanging friendly greetings with passersby.

Aegon spoke enthusiastically, recounting stories of his experiences in the city, and Aemond tried to listen attentively, but his mind was divided. He felt somewhat guilty for not enjoying the gift as much as his brother had intended.

The bustling atmosphere of the city began to unsettle him. Soon, the overwhelming number of people and the unpleasant smell disturbed him deeply. He felt uncomfortable and agitated, sweat beading on his forehead in the unfamiliar and potentially dangerous surroundings, unsure of what fate awaited him under Aegon's turbulent guidance.

They walked until they reached a shady alley. It was less crowded but equally foul-smelling and narrow as the previous path, he noticed. They approached the door of a larger house, its entrance concealed behind red curtains, giving no clue as to what may lay inside. 

Some men silently opened it and they both stepped into it.

The smell changed upon it, but not necessarily for the better. Aemond looked up when he saw bare feet approaching them from the center of the room, dimly lit by candles. Aemond's breath caught in his throat and he felt the blood drain from his face as if he had seen a ghost. Fear mingled with revulsion as he realized the nature of the place, the weight of Aegon's expectations crushing down on him.

When Aemond turned to look at Aegon with a mixture of disbelief and confusion, he felt overpowered by the taller, more robust presence, who flashed a malicious smile and pulled back his hood.

Anxiety surged through him; he felt as though he were caught in a dangerous game, not fully understanding the rules or the objective. His heart began to pound harder in his chest, and his throat went dry when Aegon, who was in his element, pushed him further, closer to the woman, and said: "I want only the best for the one-eyed prince."

"I'm sorry, Aegon, I can't..." murmured Aemond, his voice barely a trembling whisper. But his protest was drowned out by Aegon's tired groan.

"You can't back out now" insisted Aegon firmly, his eyes gleaming with a determination that was more frightening to Aemond than any physical threat.

The woman in front of him smiled and extended her hand in an inviting gesture. However, he kept his hands firmly clenched at his sides, fists tightly closed with such force that he could feel the pain of his nails digging into his palms. His brother, seeing that he showed no signs of wanting to move forward, pushed him more towards the woman, who greeted him with another smile and grabbed his wrist.

He obeyed mechanically, his heart hammering painfully against his chest. Each step carried him further away from everything he knew, towards an abyss of the unknown and feared. 

She was walking in front of him, dressed in a revealing attire that left little to the imagination. Feeling embarrassed, he lowered his gaze. Aegon continued to stand behind him, hands resting on his shoulders, urging him. 

He wanted to react, genuinely trying, but he felt dazed, as if his mind was disconnected while his body moved on inertia. His face flushed with heat.

Although his gaze was fixed on his feet, his eye captured unsettling images, scenes he had never imagined and certainly should not be witnessing. As the figures moved about, a subtle melody played in the background amidst moans of various voices and tones. 

Aemond swallowed hard, every fiber of his being screamed to stop, to turn around and run far from that place, but Aegon continued to push him forward. He felt like a marionette, strings pulled by Aegon's words and will.

And he kept walking towards his uncertain fate, desperately longing for some miracle to divert him from this imposed path, to regain ownership of his life once more.

The woman, moving deliberately and maintaining a consistently gentle demeanor, positioned them in front of semi-transparent curtains.

"Come now, don't linger" Aegon urged impatiently, a sly smile twisting his lips. 

Aemond hesitated, unease settling in his gut. He didn't want to enter, didn't want to confront whatever lay inside.

"I don't think..." Aemond stammered, his objections weak against Aegon's strong grip on his shoulder, propelling him ahead.

"You see, brother," Aegon whispered in his ear, his tone low and insidious, "this is where boys become men. You can't shy away from what life demands of you."

Aemond felt trapped, like a lamb led to slaughter. Every nerve screamed for escape, but he found himself unable to resist the pull of Aegon; his persuasive words wormed their way into his thoughts like a creeping vine. Aemond's mind reeled, torn between revulsion and the need to please his elder brother. 

Impatiently, Aegon parted the curtains and pushed him into the room. Aemond closed his eyes briefly, cold sweat beading on his forehead as a wave of nausea swept over him. His thoughts became a chaotic whirlwind of denial and despair. 

As the curtains closed behind him, he avoided lifting his gaze. His hands remained clenched, his legs heavy. From the center of the small room, a soft voice broke the silence: "My prince, don't be shy."

Despite the invitation, he continued reluctantly to look up. The voice, with a playful tone, drew nearer, descending from a bed. The room seemed to absorb all sound, leaving Aemond with the deafening echo of his own racing pulse and the measured steps from the woman.

She walked slowly towards him with grace, and he could see her bare body approaching. He felt rooted to the spot, unable to move, his body stiff and tense, experiencing slight tremors. He wanted to protest, but the words stuck in his throat. 

The woman moved behind him, and he finally lifted his gaze. He observed the walls adorned with explicit paintings, while numerous candles scattered around the room illuminated the space, highlighting a large round bed in the center. He felt like an intruder in his own skin, his mind and body disconnected in a harrowing internal struggle.

The atmosphere was dense, heavy with something oppressive, something that seemed to steal all the air from his lungs. Forced to breathe quickly and deeply, his nostrils filled with a pungent scent of myrrh that seemed to seep into his very being. Discomfort threatened to become more visible with each second. 

His face contorted in an expression of revulsion and distress as he felt hands resting heavily on his shoulders, while warm breath caressed the nape of his neck.

"I'm going to make you a man" she whispered softly in his ear.

He barely remembers the journey back to the Red Keep, except that he purged himself in some dark corner of the city, relieving just a bit of the discomfort plaguing him.

He was grateful that the sun had yet to rise, sparing him from many witnesses to his sorry state, just a few guards and servants. 

They entered through the main door of his chambers, one of his arms was draped around his brother's neck, who bore all his weight, as he couldn't muster the strength to walk. Aegon laid him down in his bed. The room spun slightly around him.

"What did you do to me?" Aemond whispered, looking at his brother with a blend of confusion and betrayal. His words slurred slightly, and the edges of his vision blurred further into a disorienting haze.

Aegon met his gaze with a furrowed brow, the telltale signs of intoxication evident in his expression. The flickering candlelight cast shifting shadows across his features, highlighting the creases of concern and bewilderment etched upon his face before he turned away.

Aemond tried to fight the drowsiness creeping over him, but it proved futile. His eyelids grew heavier despite his efforts, and eventually, they succumbed, closing shut, the faint sound of Aegon closing the door echoed in his ears as he slipped into darkness.

As the sun began to timidly filter through the windows, painting the room with a soft but unsettling light, Aemond woke up with a knot in his stomach. The confusion still weighed heavily on his mind. Every image echoed painfully from the events of the previous night.

He sat on the bed, hugging his knees as his gaze wandered over the white sheets. Memories began to surface and cling to his mind like a heavy, dark cloak. He felt corrupted, as if the shadow of what had happened was seeping into his skin and soul.

The silence in the room was deafening, interrupted only by the distant sounds of the castle coming to life. He squeezed his eye shut, trying in vain to ward off the memories that mercilessly intruded into his mind.

He didn't realize when his mother entered the room; her voice rumbled low, almost imperceptibly intrigued in his ears. A servant discreetly withdrew upon seeing him. 

He wondered if it was his bare face that had alerted her, the patch lost at some point in the night revealing his wound, or maybe she could see what he had done. Maybe she sensed it and noticed how stained he was.

In the distance, the aroma of freshly cooked breakfast drifted from the table, a small sign of normalcy in a world that seemed to have lost all its balance for him.

His mother approached quickly, wanting to comfort him, but he recoiled. He couldn't allow her to be tainted by his actions.

"Leave" he murmured, avoiding her gaze.

"My child, what is the matter?" she asked, her eyes full of anguish and her hand reaching out to him, but he couldn't accept it, even though he wanted to.

The images kept coming, clearer each time, confirming what now was. Nothing but something murky, impure, darkened, spoiled.

"Don't touch me" he pleaded. He felt his mother withdraw her hand.

"Please, tell me what happened, we can solve it together" she pleaded, tears starting to flow her eyes. "Do you want me to call the princess? Anything, my child, just tell me how I can..." Her voice was painful.

"No!" he shouted, making his mother flinch in fear. Immediately, he felt worse.

"Is there anything I can do?" she asked desperately.

Not wanting to hurt her further, he said with a trembling voice, "I just want a bath, please." She nodded and quickly left, wishing to be helpful and offer any assistance he needed.

After his mother exited the room, he rose from the bed and tore off the grimy sheets where he had slept. With a mixture of frustration and sorrow, he tossed them aside onto the floor, the same spot where he then discarded his soiled suit. 

It had been his favorite, adorned with delicate embroideries meticulously crafted by his sister, worn proudly on his nameday, now tragically besmirched beyond repair.

Once the bath was ready and the room fell silent, he dragged his feet to the bathtub. Every movement was an effort, as if he was navigating through a world made of dense darkness.

He scrubbed his skin with the sponge until it turned red and his mind urged him to stop, trying to rid himself of any trace of the unpleasant smell. He washed his hair, hoping to erase the memories. He submerged himself in the water, seeking to drown out the feeling from his body, but the sensation of dirtiness persisted.

He stayed in the bathtub until his skin wrinkled and the water cooled. As he emerged, he passed by the mirror. The reflection revealed tired, baggy eyes and an expression etched with pain and confusion. He climbed back into bed, hoping to find some form of comfort.

Lying there, staring at the ceiling as the sun rose slowly, a ray of light pierced through the window, illuminating the sapphire on his bedside table. Tears welled up and finally spilled over, coursing down his cheek like rivers of pain and regret. The reflections of lights and colors danced on the walls and ceiling, mirroring the turmoil within him.

Breakfast remained untouched on the table, as did the other meals his mother silently brought throughout the day. Thoughts crowded chaotically: Was it real? 

He squeezed his eye shut, allowing the silence of his room to envelop him like a comforting blanket. Nestled in the softness of the new sheets, he sought refuge, hoping they would shield him from the relentless onslaught of his own mind. Yet, tears continued to flow unabatedly.

The following days passed in a heavy silence, immersed in a state of denial. He felt no inclination to rise and confront reality. 

Each task seemed insurmountable, and he had no desire to encounter anyone, engage in conversation, or face the concerned glances and unspoken inquiries he knew would come.

There wasn't much room for his mother's well-intentioned visits that could further destabilize his fragile balance, nor for food, even the simplest appetite felt as distant as the sun on a cloudy day.

He grew accustomed to the monotony of the room, its walls the sole witnesses to his silent pain. Sometimes, he sat on the edge of the bed, staring blankly without truly seeing, while the outside world continued to spin, unaware of his suffering.

During those days of isolation, he tried to find peace in the emptiness of solitude, allowing himself to simply exist without the pressure to act or face the truth.

Then another feeling emerged; each sigh was an attempt to free himself from the heavy burden of guilt that imprisoned him. 

New questions arose: How could he do that? Guilt enveloped him like dense fog, making him question every decision, every word spoken, every gesture made.

He decided to store the sapphire in the dagger's case, hiding it behind a stack of books as if that could somehow make its presence less felt. The sapphire's gleam felt unbearable, as if each sparkle was a silent reproach, reminding him of the horrendous actions of the previous night. The lingering scent of roses mixed with the scent permeating him only exacerbated his torment, evoking images of his sin that refused to disappear.

The next day, his mother appeared again with breakfast.

"I've brought you a new patch" she said, her voice laden with concern, as if seeking permission to share in his grief.

Seeing him rise from the bed and head toward the table, she took it as an invitation and sat beside him. He began eating small bites, but he knew that staying silent with his thoughts could sink him deeper into his pain. He wanted to avoid mentioning her name, as if it could be tainted by simply pronouncing it, but he needed to know how she was. Surely worried, maybe even upset.

"Has she come to see me?" he asked softly.

His mother didn't need to ask whom he meant. She lowered her gaze, and he began to fear the worst.

"The princess left for Driftmark a few days ago" she said quietly. The fork slipped from his weak fingers, and he furrowed his brow, staring blankly at the plate in front of him. "Ser Laenor has passed away" his mother added. Confused, he looked up.

"And the funeral?"

"Your father and brother have traveled to be present, they must be returning by now" she explained.

"But why aren't we there?"

"That day you told me you didn't wish to see her, so I assumed..." He cursed under his breath, cutting her off as he buried his face in his hands.

He wanted to scream in frustration, yet he knew he couldn't fault anyone but himself. He had forbidden visits. Had he been informed, he would have acted differently, however, he also never allowed his mother an opportunity to speak.

The knowledge that she left shattered him to his core. How could he survive without her by his side? 

Guilt overwhelmed him even more. She, who had set everything aside to be with him without any ulterior motives, was now mourning the loss of her father while he hid in the comfort of his bed, lamenting his decisions.

After that, he couldn't eat anymore, feeling his stomach clench instantly. His mother withdrew, still worried but grateful for having accompanied him even for a brief moment.

Aware that she was likely headed to Dragonstone, he took paper and pen, determined to send a letter to that destination, seeking to offer an apology. He didn't feel ready to face the darkness he had allowed that night, nor to confront the very possible disappointment in her eyes, but still he wrote that if she requested it, he would mount Vhagar in the blink of an eye and fly to wherever she was, ready to stand by her side no matter what.

Days turned into weeks, and he became a mere shadow of his former self. He neither ate nor slept, and words seemed to have abandoned him entirely.

Unyielding flashbacks haunted him, casting a relentless shadow over his waking hours and his dreams alike. These memories were vivid and fresh, like an open wound that refused to heal.

The grotesque sounds and screams, the frantic rush, the stinging tears in his eye, the bitter taste of blood from biting his lips, the mocking laughter, the barrage of vulgar words that stung—each detail made him feel like a trapped animal.

He knew he had done wrong, he had ruined his reputation. The sense of failure gnawed at him, as a man, as a prince, as a future husband, as himself.

He longed for those moments to be forgotten, buried deep within his mind. But they clung to him like a parasite, feeding on his despair, and twisting him into someone unrecognizable.

His brother's words echoed in his mind, making him feel like a coward for his inability to handle the situation.

Every time he closed his eyes, the images infiltrated his thoughts, consuming him like wildfire. He realized the battle with that would never truly end.

He felt like a vessel of dirt and filth, a walking embodiment of shame.

Desperate for distraction, he threw himself into his studies and training, avoiding eye contact, shrinking from touch. He couldn't bear the thought of being seen, of being surrounded by others.

One day, lying in his room, immersed in dark thoughts, a burden weighed heavily on him. He waited in vain for any sign from the princess, any news to alleviate his growing anguish.

Suddenly, someone on the door broke the oppressive silence, pulling him out of his reverie. His mother usually entered without notice, and the servants no longer frequented his room, so these unexpected knocks caught his attention.

A glimmer of hope arose within him. Could it be that she had returned? He quickly suppressed the idea.

The room, once filled with her essence, now lay stripped and empty, as if it had never been occupied. No trace of her presence remained, not even the sweet aroma that used to linger in the air. The only proof of her presence was a gift hidden in the shadows.

He hesitated, unsure whether to open the door. As the knocks persisted, he quickly adjusted his eye patch and prepared to receive whoever was on the other side.

When he opened it, Helaena stood revealed. With a small, warm smile, she moved toward his bed. He closed the door behind her and stood, staring at the ground, ashamed to see his sister after everything.

Helaena moved delicately, holding something in her hands. "Aemond" she called softly, drawing his attention. When he finally looked up, he found an empathetic expression, contrasting with the concern from their mother.

"I've brought some roses from the gardens" Helaena announced calmly, placing a crystal vase near his bed. He looked at her gratefully, feeling as though she had read his mind.

Helaena took a few steps toward him, respecting his space. Aemond silently appreciated this gesture, knowing his sister was not one for physical displays of affection, and he did not feel deserving of a hug.

"I made you another" she said, handing the clothes over carefully, with an implicit understanding of the story surrounding her previous gift, one he had to discard after that fateful night. Aemond nodded, his heart moved by the gesture.

Unfolding the soft fabrics, he revealed a new suit, this time black, in stark contrast to the greens he usually wore. The delicate, perfect embroideries reminded him of the last one, but these were even finer and more elaborate, as if they held a promise of renewal and strength.

"Thank you" he whispered, struggling to convey the depth of his gratitude.

Helaena smiled gently, as if to say there was no need. Aemond felt she understood more than she could express with words, wishing to comfort him in her unique way.

Before leaving, Helaena added with a hint of mystery in her voice "I like to believe that our wait will be rewarded, don't you?" He nodded, almost imperceptibly, without taking his eyes off hers.

With those words resonating in his mind, Aemond was left alone in the room, feeling a little lighter. Then, he let the tears fall again, washing away the pain and anger that threatened to overflow him.

@helaenaluvr @purplegardenwhispers @callsignwidow @scarletbedlam @fics-i-love-and-recommend @oh-you-mean-me @squidscottjeans @fossface

Last part as kids! I feel so bad for Aemond :(

[tojisun]

https://www.tiktok.com/t/ZT8tQfwXt/

this with biker!simon 🤭 the way he just melts omg

OH MY GOD I YELLED

nono fr omg the way he melted as soon as he heard it and the way he literally looks like hes about to lose his mind on the highway??? SCREAMING

!! suggestive - minors dni; sexting ig // biker!simon mlist

thinking about how this isn’t really something you’d usually send—you’re so used to his friends snooping on his phone so of course you two have to be careful. discreet.

but.

it’s been a while since you two have done anything more than rushed make out kisses. even the last time you two tried to squeeze a quickie, it was still, somehow, interrupted by your conflicting schedules.

you’ve tried to hold onto your patience. tried holding back even when all you wanted to do was jump simon because there he always is, beautiful and hot and just overall so goddamn attractive, it should be illegal to be that good looking.

but it’s been a while now. and you’ve missed him dearly.

it didn’t help that his last meet was all over social media, getting mixed into edits because of fucking course he is a tiktok edit now. you really can’t blame anyone—you were there, after all.

you’ve seen, first hand, the way he unveiled his new shop project before pairing up with that guy who you all still call konig. god knows what his name is but honestly you’re not even curious anymore. not when simon stole the goddamn show. again.

then the asshole had the audacity to point at you, black leather gloves stark against all the flashing cameras, and you watched as he made a little fucking heart with his hands. if the cameras weren’t going ham on simon then, they sure were after that little flirty stunt.

you felt yourself be engulfed in flames so, yeah. you really can’t blame anyone for sharing every pictures and videos they have of simon that day all over the internet.

still, somehow, you want to monopolize him. possess him.

and, if you’re not blaming anyone for sharing every sliver of simon’s meet, well, you hope no one can also blame you for what you’re about to do.

-

simon grunts as he finishes rounding a corner and begins easing into the highway. he rights himself up and blazes past the straggling sedans to get into the thick stretch of the road.

it’s not too windy today but dusk is breaking out and simon’s just glad he’s finally en route to your place. it’s been a long day and gods he’s missed you.

he gets the notification a few minutes in.

“hey, baby,” your message starts. “i missed you.” there’s a pause. “i’m wearing that lingerie you’ve always liked, you know the blue little thing? i forgot how lace feels since it’s been a while, hasn’t it?”

simon’s breath is suspended in the pathway through his lungs, his eyes going wide as your words draw on. not even siri’s robotic voice can shake away simon’s thoughts—the vivid imagination of coming home to see you in that lace bralette and panties and—he grips the hand clutch tighter—the matching lace choker it came with.

fuck-

“might start without you, lover boy. so drive home—to me—safe, okay? see you soon, baby. love you.”

fuuuck.

simon books it home.

AAAAHHHH SCREAMINNN no bc this is me w simon!!

[auburncore]

"tenebris flores"

The weathered shell, a husk remains,

echoes whisper of a compelled life,

a fragment, once it breathed and thrived,

now murmurs promise at the dusk’s edge.

Violence withers, silence takes the throne

at a disagreeable pause where life unwinds.

the sphere hangs suspended, stark and bare,

witness to a silent penultimate plea.

A trembling bloom begins its rise

from stillness almost river deep;

with an elegance reticent,

gelatinous tendrils reach and spread.

A strange and morbid beauty forms,

life pushing forth in shades of blue,

a resurrection, undefined,

a haunting echo, left behind.

Is this a victory, a hard-won prize,

or echoes of extinguished cries?

that leaves the answer veiled,

a fragment, unheard, forever lost.

[acourtofthought]

Elucien's are attacked for thinking Elain will leave the NC for Spring / Day because she's is happy there. Because she's got purpose, friends, and her sisters. Because she declared she was part of the court.

But it's suddenly ok if she leaves to become High Lady of the Dusk Court?

Gwynriel isn't realistic because Trainer / Trainee relationships are inappropriate (aka forbidden in some situations though I guess they decided to forget about Feysand, Nessian, Rowaelin, how Chaol gave Yrene self defense lessons) .

Yet E/riel forbidden love is so romantic! 🤔

Gwynriels attacked for "romanticizing" Az's rescue of Gwyn from Sangravah in fanart.

Elriels regularly romanticizing Az's "dramatic" rescue (hiding in Feyre's shadow) of Elain during her kidnapping.

E/riels: "Elucien's bond is tainted because the Cauldron is tainted!"

Also Them: The Cauldron loves Elain!

They'll claim Lucien does the bare minimum for Elain because he's kept his distance since the novella.

While claiming Az loves Elain even though he admits to avoiding her.

They'll claim that because Lucien said he can't stand to be in the same room as Elain it's evidence he's not interested in her (despite him still staring at her with longing and disappointment a year later).

While claiming Az loves Elain.........because he can't stand being in the same room as her.

Hearing that Az didn't give Elain credit for killing the King because he knows she doesn't like the credit for violence.

While constantly using the hashtag Kingslayer

Gwynriels and Elucien's being bullied for commissioning non canon scenes.

While staring at all the art of Elain with a dagger tattoo, Az with a rose tattoo and them holding one another in a field of flowers while Az wears suspenders.

[severinapina]

“About you and the arcades” — ONE SHOT

Another day, another dollar. Who cares? They're all the same. Breakfast, training, lunch, training, dinner, training, and bed.

“And don't even think about staying up reading manga, okay?” said his mom every night.

“And don’t even think about bla bla bla” mimicked an adult Satoru, remembering those times.

He hated them. Sure, his strict upbringing had made him who he was, but they were still bad memories. Formative years, they say. Every time he bought a Shonen Jump, his mind went to the pre-bedtime scolding or, worse, to the time his mom found his stash and burned them.

“And I had the whole first arc of Dragon Ball, for fuck’s sake” he said, dumping six sugar cubes into his tea.

“What about Dragon Ball? My husband was Vegeta” said Shoko, just entering the kitchen.

“That's like the hundredth time you've said that.”

“Wow, someone's in a bad mood. What's up? Did Megumi get suspended again for hitting his classmates?”

Gojo slumped into a chair with a sigh. Yep, Shoko was right. He was in a bad mood. Megumi had indeed hit his classmates, and he’d have to deal with the principal (an activity he despised), but more than anything, it was the day that bothered him. A beautiful spring morning, ready for the first cherry blossoms. Only he could be annoyed by such a scene. But it made sense. A lot of sense.

On a day like that, he met him.

*

He'd been feeling bored for weeks, no, months. The lessons were dizzying, the training exhausting, and nothing amused him anymore. Wandering endlessly through the forest surrounding the Gojo clan estate wasn't exactly thrilling either, at least not since he turned fourteen. He was anxious. Next year, he would start his studies at the Tokyo Metropolitan Curse Technical College, which meant not only perfecting his skills but also something he'd been denied his whole short life: meeting people his age. It wasn't far off, really. Nevertheless, Satoru couldn't wait. So, it only took a small slip-up with his mother to bolt.

It was the third time he'd run away from home. The first time, at six, he'd decided to play snail hunting in the forest, an activity he kept up until, at dusk, one of his hysterical guards dragged him back. The second time, at ten, he took the train to Tokyo. He wandered aimlessly, attentively observing the eccentric passersby, listening to the loud noises, and smelling the various food aromas only a big city like that could offer. Until he realized, disappointed, that he still drew the attention of minor sorcerers. And there were plenty. He returned home before they noticed he was gone, convinced that perhaps no one would ever understand what it felt like to be a freak.

But this time would be different. He knew exactly where to go. And not only that, but he'd discovered how to mask his cursed energy for a short time. That, plus a good cap, guaranteed him a few hours of forgetting his boring, routine life Gojo clan.

“Fuck the sorcerers” he muttered with a giggle as he boarded the train.

Upon arriving at his destination station, he ran up excited. He knew exactly where he wanted to go: the arcade with games from the late '80s and early '90s and, specifically, one game: Street Fighter.

He didn't expect a guy dressed in karate gear with a meter-wide back to be using it.

But Satoru wasn't one to give up. He knew he couldn't keep his disguise and low energy for long, so he had to make the most of it.

He approached the guy and patted him on the back.

“What do you want? I told you I'd help...” he said, turning around. “Oh, sorry. Thought you were someone else.”

Satoru, seeing him, could only think one thing: "bangs." He was facing a boy around his age, with violet eyes and dark, shiny hair, highlighted by a suspiciously untamed tuft.

He stared at him, mouth open. Not only did he have an intimidating demeanor, but he also emitted cursed energy. And strong energy at that.

“Well? Can I help you with something?”, the boy asked when Satoru didn't respond.

Gojo snapped back to reality.

“I want to use that machine”, he said, standing tall and speaking authoritatively. He'd grown a lot that year, probably about ten centimeters. He had to use that to his advantage.

“Good for you, but I'm using it. Feel free to wait over there”, he pointed to the door.

Confused, Satoru quickly glanced outside and then back at the boy. "What a rude jerk," he thought. Gojo wasn't used to being told no. And, although he hated himself for it and it contradicted his plans for the day, he played the clan card. After all, the boy with the ridiculous tuft was a sorcerer.

He removed his cap and glasses, locking his blue eyes on him.

“Do you even know who I am?”

The boy looked him up and down.

“An idol? Sorry, not into that stuff”, he said, turning back around.

Flabbergasted, Satoru stepped in front of him.

“I'm Gojo Satoru”, he said, indicating his eyes.

The boy, now annoyed, pushed him aside.

“What a rude introduction. Move, please.”

Satoru, even more perplexed, significantly increased the levels of cursed energy he was emitting. This caught the boy's attention. He widened his eyes and, after a few seconds, said:

“You have...that?”

“Yep. Told you I'm Gojo Satoru.”

“Your name still doesn't ring a bell, but”, he stood up and offered his hand. “...I'm Geto Suguru.”

Suguru had spent years unsure of what to make of his strange gift. He saw people and entities where there were none, heard horrible whispers in the dark, and smelled scents that would scare the vilest pirate. He'd intuitively learned to swallow curses, but he knew very little. He didn't even call it energy. To him, it was just "that." The only person he'd met with the same ability was the teacher from the Curse College who had come to recruit him. But he hadn't really explained anything. It would all come later, he'd said. So, meeting a boy his age with the same thing for the first time was incredibly intriguing.

He observed Satoru for a long time. He didn't want to forget his face.

“Are you gonna let me play or not?”, Gojo asked impatiently. He didn't want to be rude, but no one changes overnight.

“Wow, no manners," thought Suguru as he stared at Satoru, puzzled. Normally, if someone treated him like that, Suguru would either ignore them or tell them off. However, something told him it wasn't time to part ways with this strange albino and his frog-like eyes just yet. He felt their cursed energy made them, on a peculiarly intimate level, comrades.

After a few seconds, he said:

“There's another arcade two stations away with two Street Fighters. Want to go?”

“Why would I need two?”, Satoru asked, raising his eyebrows.

Suguru blushed.

“So we can both play.”

"Idiot," he added to himself.

Gojo stared at him for a moment, blinking as if he were being drenched by a thousand raindrops. This was new for him. Not only had he met a sorcerer who didn't know him, but one his age who was polite enough to invite him to play.

He stood up and walked to the door. Suguru looked at him questioningly, and Satoru turned his head.

“Aren't you gonna lead the way?”

Suguru nodded and hurried. They walked to the metro together in silence, but contrary to what one might expect from such a situation, they both felt strangely comfortable. As if they'd known each other forever.

*

At the next arcade, Gojo noticed he wasn't feeling so great anymore. He checked the time. He didn't have much freedom left. He had about fifty minutes before he’d collapse from the effort of hiding his energy. Plus, it was nearly time for his boring History of Clans and General Sorcery class.

“Ugh, school sucks”, he said, not realizing he’d spoken out loud.

Suguru pointed with a smile at the two Street Fighter machines. They were empty, almost waiting for them.

As they sat down, he said:

“School's not so bad if you focus on your studies and join a club. Which school do you go to?”

Gojo eyed him from under his glasses. Of course, this martial arts student had to be a star pupil. "The shoujo manga class rep stereotype," he thought, continuing to scrutinize him.

Taking his seat, he replied:

“I’m homeschooled.”

Now it was Suguru's turn to scrutinize. "So that's why he has no manners," he thought, watching Satoru pick his nose.

“Too bad. Thought we might run into each other in a tournament.”

Satoru eyed him suspiciously. Too bad? Why was this guy being so nice to him? He didn’t know who he was, so he couldn’t be a kiss-up. And Gojo couldn’t fathom that he was simply dealing with someone genuinely nice. He was too used to cold, sarcastic manners.

“I don’t like sports much”, he said curtly. “Don’t talk to me, I'm starting my game, okay?”

"Yeah, he's an idiot," thought Suguru as he stood up and walked over to Satoru. "I should go study and stop wasting time with this annoying brat, but..."

Suguru hit the button to cancel the albino’s game. Satoru looked at him like he had just heard a dog talk.

“What the...?”

“I brought you here so we could both play. You have...that thing, same as me, and I think...I don’t know. You intrigue me. Can you play with me for a bit?”

Suguru was surprised to say those words and blushed like never before.

Satoru didn’t know what to say. No one had ever asked to spend time with him. People were always around him just because of who he was. Asking for permission to share his time was unheard of.

He didn’t think about it. He was intrigued by this Geto Suguru too. And in a way he couldn’t explain, he wanted to spend time with him. But they were short on time. He checked the time and clicked his tongue.

“I have half an hour. Then I gotta go or I’ll be half-dead.”

Suguru laughed loudly. He had no idea what Satoru meant, but it was funny anyway. And not just anyone could make him laugh like that.

“Alright, Cinderella. I’ll beat you in five minutes.”

He had no idea that Satoru played, hidden under his covers, for four hours every night. That, plus his exceptional brain, made him a whiz at everything he did, including ‘80s fighting video games.

After losing three rounds embarrassingly, Suguru thought it was best to throw in the towel. Not only that, but looking at the time, he realized his parents expected him for dinner in fifteen minutes.

“I think it’s time for me to go”, said Geto, a bit hesitant. He didn’t want to leave. He was having a good time.

Satoru looked at the time and was surprised to feel sad. He had to leave too. Standing up from the machine, he said:

“I have to go too.”

The two boys stared at each other like they were seeing their reflection.

“Wanna walk together?” asked Suguru suddenly.

Satoru nodded. He’d walk to Kyoto with this stranger, honestly.

As they left, Suguru headed to a vending machine.

“What do you want to drink?”

The albino panicked. He’d never had any of those neon-colored drinks before. They were forbidden to him. The strongest had to follow a strict, low-sugar diet.

“The same as you”

“But I haven’t chosen anything yet”, said Geto, confused.

Satoru just looked away. He felt a bit ridiculous, which was new for him. He had been raised to never feel less than the rest of the simple mortals.

Guessing what was happening, Suguru got a Sprite for himself and a Coke for Satoru.

“Hey, heads up!”, said Suguru, tossing the soda to him.

Satoru instinctively activated his technique. Geto watched in amazement as the can was repelled from his body.

“How’d you do that? That was awesome!”

Gojo blushed. No one ever praised his achievements. Being the strongest was his duty. And no one gets praised for simply doing their duty.

“It’s...I was born this way”, he replied, scratching the back of his head. “It’s because of that...thing you have too.

“Can you teach me?”, asked Suguru, his violet eyes wide with hope.

“No. You’d have to be born in my clan and with these”. He took off his glasses and pointed to his eyes as he sat on the ground.

Noticing Suguru’s disappointed face, he added:

“But you’ll learn other things at the school.”

Suguru smiled resignedly, looking at the ground as he sat next to Gojo. He didn’t dare tell him the things he could already do with his technique. For some strange reason, swallowing curses felt dark and ugly, and not just because of their taste. Sometimes he felt something ominous came with keeping so many inside him. Satoru’s technique, on the other hand, seemed beautiful, bright, and natural, as if no one else in the entire universe could carry it with such grace.

Since Suguru wasn’t saying anything, Satoru, a bit nervous, asked:

“You know about the Curse School, right? If not, I can talk to them about you. Next year, I’m starting my first year.”

Geto smiled at him. There was something endearing about what he’d said. His words made him feel welcome at the famous school, even though he hadn’t set foot in it yet.

“Yeah, they came to recruit me a couple of weeks ago. I’m supposed to start my first year too, but...”. He hesitated. “...that day, I wasn’t sure I wanted to go. I said I’d give them an answer by the end of the month.”

Gojo felt disappointed. He had really started to like him. He could get used to those violet eyes and that flamboyant hair. No, he knew he would get used to it.

Playing it cool and while looking at his nails, he asked:

“And now? What do you think?”

Geto smiled at him. Gojo Satoru had become annoyingly charming to him. Maybe leaving traditional education wouldn’t be so bad. At least that curious boy would be by his side. And something told him he wouldn’t regret sharing his teenage years with him.

“Now I’m sure I want to go.”

Satoru felt a smile spreading from the tips of his toes to the ends of his violet hair. He never expected to smile at someone he’d known for less than two hours; it just happened as naturally as breathing.

He took a sip of his Coke and, besides instantly getting addicted to the sugar, felt the familiar twinge in his head. He didn’t have much time left. He had to lie down, or he’d end up passing out. He sighed and glanced at Suguru. He never thought he’d have such a good time that afternoon. He wanted to stay there, not just that day, but all week, month, year. But it was impossible.

Although, he thought, they had four years ahead of them. And who knows how much fun they’d have then. He smiled again. He felt that it would be alright. Very alright.

He stood up and, before leaving, extended his hand.

“See you next year, Geto Suguru?”

Suguru took it and, without letting go, replied:

“See you, Gojo Satoru.”

And so it would be. Even when he was out of sight, out of reach, and out of his life, in the countless memories of their days together, Satoru would see him. He’d see the photographs, the books, and the hair ties he’d leave behind. He’d see his smile, his eyes, and the way he said his name. He’d see, in short, into the intricate and gray soul of that boy who, thanks to ironic fate, he’d come to love inexplicably.

Unbearably.

Infinitely.

And he’d keep seeing him, until his last breath.

🕹️———————————-

Illustration by @ahresprite 🖤

[xxvalkyriesxx]

Flying Changes - Chapter One

A Nessian Equestrian Fic

Masterlist // Previous Part // Next Part

Read on AO3 or below!

Three years later…

Nesta Archeron made a lot of mistakes in her life. In the seventh grade she accidentally told a secret that wasn’t hers to share. When she did her online classes during high school she had forgotten about an entire English project and simply had to take the failing grade. But this current mistake, as she smelled of cheap beer and liquor. This was by far the worst mistake she’s ever made as she stepped out of the Uber facing the Velaris Courthouse.

Bile rose in her throat, the contents of the alcohol gaining an upperhand. She gulped then massaged her face, putting color into her cheeks. It would all be okay. I’ve been fine in the past. I’ll be fine now.

She climbed the marble steps before entering the courthouse, finding the room her case was assigned too. 

“Where is your client, Mr. Vanserra? I won’t ask again.”

“I’m sorry, your honor. She’ll be here any minute.” 

Ah fucking shit. Eris might just pull out all of his hair for this.

Heads swung as Nesta opened the court door, keeping her head low. She wore an old dress that most definitely had a ripped somewhere and her heels seemed to be wobbly. Or was that herself being wobbly?

Eris greeted her quietly before glaring at her. He pulled his head near her’s.

“Your have to be fucking kidding me right now. Are you actually drunk right now, Nesta?”

Nesta made a motion with her head to show somewhat as an answer. Eris sighed heavily before turning to the judge.

“You honor, my client has appeared now. I think we can start now.”

The judge peered down at Nesta. Her silvery eyes and black hair bob made Nesta squirm slightly.

“Listen young lady. If you’re ever late to court again, there'll be a lot more trouble given to you.” The judge said before continuing.

“You pleaded guilty for driving under the influence and as this would be your second offense, your consequences fit your crime.”

Nesta swayed back and forth, the nerves lingering in her body. She dropped her chin a little and looked over her shoulder. Near the back was her baby sister, Feyre. And at her side was her long-term boyfriend, Rhysand Valyrian. Feyre’s face was written in disappointment while Rhysand shot glares at Nesta.

Better watch out, buddy. Your face might get stuck like that.

“Miss Archeron, did you hear me?” The judge called out.

Nesta jolted, coming back to reality. “I’m sorry, Judge.”

Eris groaned, his hand already in his hair.

“It’s your honor, girl.”

“Yes, your honor.”

The judge began flipping through a packet in front of her.

“I will not be repeating myself after this, Miss Archeron.” She paused before continuing. “As you pleaded guilty this will not be entering an official trial. I would sentence you to the Dusk Court Prison if it was solely up to me Miss Archeron.” 

Nesta’s heart began to speed up. Prison was really on the table this time when she spoke with Eris last; the night she made bail.

The judge sighed. “But after a loved one sent in a letter I’m afraid their decision had swayed me. Nesta Archeron, you will not be sentenced to prison.”

What felt like a collection of relieved sighs happened across the room. However Nesta must have imagined it.

“You will serve three hundred and seventy-five hours of community service while on probation. You will meet with your lawyer and parole officer once a week. If things go over well we can look into extending the meetings every two weeks.” 

“Your license will be suspended for 1 year. You will be attending mandatory Alcoholics Anonymous sessions in the area you’ll be staying in.” 

Nesta gripped her wrist, nails digging into her skin.

“Finally, you will be volunteering at the House of Wind Therapeutic Ranch in Windhaven. You will not be allowed to leave the site unless otherwise approved by the staff or mandated such as the sessions.”

Her stomach dropped. Freezing water dumped over her entire body.

A ranch?

“Your honor, is this a horse ranch?” 

The judge looked down at her with a deadpan stare. “Yes, Miss Archeron. This is a ranch that involves horses. Although there may be other animals there too. Is that a problem?”

Nesta shook her head. No, no, no. This couldn’t be right.

“No, your honor. I’m not qualified to work there. I’ll take the–” but before Nesta could continue, Eris squeezed her shoulder roughly. He glared at her, his rusted color eyes glancing at her silvery blues.

“Your honor, my client doesn’t understand how this is a tremendous opportunity given to her. She will take it. Won’t you, Miss Archeron?” Eris squeezed harder, Nesta wincing. Her breath drew heavier, a faint memory of hands on her before.

There was no escaping. This was her consequence.

“...Yes, your honor. I understand.”

“I’m glad that you do. You’ll be needed at the ranch by nightfall tonight. If you cannot arrange a ride, the court will order one for you. If you break any of these rules, Miss Archeron, the consequences will escalate to a higher degree. Do I make myself clear?”

Nesta nodded. “Yes, your honor.”

The gavel’s sound bounced across the rooms. The sentencing was finished. Dread filled her veins while Eris stepped away from her, packing his things. She looked behind her again to see Feyre standing there, arms crossing over her chest. Rhysand had just walked out the door.

Nightfall came as Nesta sat in the passenger seat of Feyre’s truck. Technically it was their father’s old truck, but he passed it down to her shortly after her high school graduation. The fabric seats were torn with threads peeling and mysterious stains that Nesta didn’t need to know more of.

The car ride was filled with so much silence, it was like a third person was in the truck. Nesta kept picking at the skin, creating bloody hangnails. The radio wasn’t on either. Nesta loved music, but Feyre looked like she wanted silence. Her sister’s eyes kept on the road, both hands on the wheel. Driving through the highways then onto backroads, Feyre and Nesta made their way to the town of Windhaven. Approximately an hour outside Velaris.

There was humid mist in the air as rain drizzled from the sky. The windshield wipers rubbed against the glass. Nesta winced every time the wipers made a sound.

Red lights reflected on the puddles on the two lane road. The car came to a stop. And then Feyre sighed.

“Nesta, I love you. You’re my sister. But I can’t keep doing this.”

“I can’t keep reliving this nightmare of my family dying because of alcohol. Mom and dad died because they drank themselves to death.”

Nesta’s hand curled into her palm. Bitter words were hanging off her tongue and she did nothing to stop them.

“You need to get over dad’s death. It was almost three years ago. And secondly you need to get a new car, Fey.”

Fey was the nickname Nesta and Elain had decided for her when their sister was born. It had been stuck like that since. Feyre winced at her old nickname. The light turned green, and Feyre drove again.

Silence came in between them once more, as Feyre made a turn onto a dirt road. Some of the street lamps were on, illuminating pastures and arenas. Nesta’s stomach turned at the once familiar sight.

“That’s not fair, Nesta.” Feyre counted as she pulled up to a house, putting the old truck in park.

“You’re the one literally dating Daddy Warbucks. He could give you the moon if you wanted. Maybe ask for a new car or some shit.”

“You will leave Rhysand out of this. He has nothing to do with this. And Nesta…IF you don’t change your ways, I will make sure you will not meet my child. I will not have that in their life.” 

Nesta sat stunned in the quietness of the truck. Her gaze went from Feyre’s face to her stomach then back to Feyre.

“I love you, Nesta. But after this, no more. I will not let you be a burden to my life anymore. I will not have my child witness that.”

Nesta’s lip trembled slightly before she roughly opened the door and grabbing her stuff from the back seat. She didn’t look as she marched on forward, her suitcases and backpack in hand trailing behind her. As she climbed the porch to the front door, it suddenly swung open.

A man, a tall man, stood in the doorway. His long hair in a half up half down style as he leaned against the frame. The wheels of the truck became distant as Nesta looked up at him.

“So, Nesta Archeron. We finally meet after all this time. Welcome to your new home.” He stood inside, ushering her in.

“Prison is more like it..” 

“I can get orange jumpsuits if you think that would make you feel better, however I don’t think orange is your color.”

Nesta scuffs, the insult nailing her. She glared daggers at him.

The man moved on, walking down the hall before turning around to face her. “I’m Cassian. Your warren, if we want to stay on the prison theme.” 

“And lucky you. You get the fourth floor all to yourself. Enjoy, Nes.” Then he walked off, not bothering to help Nesta.

“My name is Nesta!” She called out after him followed by mumbling a few curses under her breath. Nesta took her things and began to climb the stairs. Step after step Nesta made her way flight after flight when she finally got to the last step of stairs. A closed door stood on top.

Nesta sighed, her breath heavy and jagged from the climb.

“I never hated a place more than this.”

She grabbed her belongings, dragging the heavy suitcase up the final set of stairs. The wheels rolling off the wooden steps. Once at the top, Nesta opened the door. 

She was greeted with a decent sized room especially for an attic. This had to be the attic after all. There was

 twin bed in the corner near the window with an AC box unit installed.

The suitcase and bags were thrown to the ground as Nesta pulled out a piece of gum. Quickly she began to chew as her stomach hit the bed. Squeals of the bedsprings hit her with force. The spearmint flavor kept her mind at bay, letting the urges stay in the dark.

Tag List (let me know if you’d like to be added or removed): @chairofchaos @blueunoias @velarisdusk @c-e-d-dreamer @jsmelodies @inkedinshadows

[the-griffons-saddlebag]

💎 𝗡𝗲𝘄 𝗶𝘁𝗲𝗺! Lunar Compass
Wondrous item, rare ___ This compass has a glass eye on its lid, allowing you to see it even while it's closed. At its center is a shallow moon sculpture, which is always magically shaded to match the current phase of the moon it represents. During the day, the item functions exactly like a normal compass. While holding the compass between dusk and dawn, it emits dim light in a 5-foot radius. During this time, you can use an action to speak its command word, followed by the name of a specific fixed location on the same plane of existence as you. If you are outside and can see at least one moon, the needle then points in the direction of the shortest and most direct route (but not necessarily the safest one) to that location. This effect is suspended if you can no longer see the moon (such as if you enter a cave or dense forest), and it ends at dawn or when you're no longer holding the compass. Once you use this property of the compass, it can't be used again until the next dusk. ___ ✨ Patrons get huge perks! Access this and hundreds of other item cards, art files, and compendium entries when you support The Griffon's Saddlebag on Patreon for less than $10 a month!

[sakkiichi]

FROM ME TO YOU.

Because good things take time and it’s not too late for happy birthdays.

ft. Albedo x gn! reader.

cw/genre: fluff, birthday special, reader is an amateur painter.

this is just something spontaneous that I came up with… I just… kinda gave free reign to whatever flashed through my mind once I was before the blank document, parting from a very vague idea I had haha.

if you enjoy this, reblogs and comments help more than likes !

Autumn’s cold always arrived early in Dragonspine.

The faraway rays of a molten copper halo fuse with the peaks outlined on the horizon.

Magic is the word you’d use to describe such scenery; seconds that seemed to both be suspended in the helpless passage of time, and slip between your fingers; like golden sand inside an hourglass too small to savor every snapshot brought by the incandescence of crepuscular skies.

On instances like this, you wished your painting skills were better; if only to capture the glow of early dreams threaded through the asters of twilight.

For now, however, this will have to do.

Why did you wait until so late for this, you are unsure.

True, wishing a happy birthday to someone as the clock strikes twelve is not an uncommon occurrence.

And you’re kind of doing just that, more or less.

Except…

Well, it’s usually when the special day starts that calls are made, starlit whispers are uttered between lovers, and secret kisses are exchanged.

So you can’t help but wonder… is it too late?

For this? Or to back out now?

A sigh escapes your chapped lips, into the dimness of dusk, the stillness of frozen peaks, the stars.

Stars.

Your gaze is drawn to the easel you’ve set before you, fingertips delicately trailing over the four-point asteroids decorating a heaven made of brushstrokes.

Gold pinpricks, almost aglow beneath the darkening penombre of sundown, over a backdrop of ultramarines and indigoes, akin to sunlight over the depth of a frozen sea; a mirror image of the sky now hovering over snowy plains.

Looking up, you find a firmament of constellations. Stories, sketched in the silver flames of light years away suns, above an infinity of obscurity.

Those tales, however, had a tendency for lighting up paths that fell victim to the constant fluttering snowflakes.

“Hello, dearest.” A voice, smooth, liquid dawnlight over dewed cecilia petals, greets. “Am I late?”

The sound of crunching snow fills the fire-lit silence, the torches from his camp casting him in tepid hues.

“Albedo!” You call him, turning around.

And when you do, you swear he alone outshines every galaxy you could ever dream of rendering on canvas.

Tendrils of midnight sun and honeycomb seem to meld together in the blonde locks framing the alchemist’s porcelain-like face. Spotless, argent light from distant stars kisses his skin, fading into flecks of sparkling acacia blossoms to halo his gaze.

Summer skies.

That’s the image his eyes always evoked: clear skies, endlessly blue, over meadows to lie on, the low grass soft beneath your forms, as hands entwined and fingers pointed above, determining the shapes of the occasional cottony clouds.

What a paradox, how someone who spent his days surrounded by ice could make sparks ignite in your heart, cheeks heating up like the embers that remained after the coziness of a homey hearth.

“Is there anything you needed my help with, love?” He asks, gloved hand running its thumb over the back of yours.

Your gaze flits from your intertwined hands to his smiling lips, taking in his features in full.

“Not exactly your help.” You offer, your own lips a moon shaped brushstroke of vermillion. “I just… would like you to see something.” Your hand squeezes his, as you swing your linked hands between the both of you. “It’s your special day today, after all, isn’t it?”

Your rhetoric is met by the alchemist’s windened gaze, followed by one of his subtle smiles.

Tugging him along, you guide him to the candle lit spot where your easel is propped up.

Why are you feeling nervous all of a sudden? You internally chide yourself, biting the inside of your cheek.

Relaxing your shoulders, you turn to face your lover, gaze averted when you mumble:

“It’s not much but…” You scuff one of your boots on the dirtied snow. “I just… I remembered your painting, ‘You and I’ and… well… you know… I…” Your lids close, your nose scrunched up in that way he always found utterly endearing. “I wanted to make a painting for you too!” You finally sputter, stepping aside so he can see your masterpiece.

From that moment on, Albedo would forever believe no starry night could ever come close to capture the sheer magic of your art.

Gilded speckles abound in your make-believe heavens, each of them a shade slightly different than the previous one. They rest against a backdrop of cyans, accentuated in baby blue around your handmade constellations, the piece’s finale, a violet horizon. Outlined against it, two figures seem to dance, their happy ending created by them, rather than foretold by the celestial bodies staring in envy at a proximity that doesn’t burn, but warms and completes.

“I know it’s not the best but-“

“It’s perfect.” Is the kreideprinz’s awestruck answer, as his svelte hands hover over the frame. “You’re perfect, [Y/n].” He blurts, still staring at your work.

Then, he meets your eyes again. Your face is in his tender hold, a fleeting frosted kiss landing on your lips.

“I love it.” He assures. ‘I love you.’ His dilated pupils confess.

“‘From me to you’. Its title.” Your hand reaches up, resting on top of his. “You know… I hope you didn’t think I had forgotten about today… I just… kinda wanted this to be your last memory of your day.”

With that, both your gazes fuse in a watercolor of each other’s lips, of the anticipation of feeling them against your own.

“Happy birthday, Bedo.” You utter, before leaning in.

And then, the night, the snow, the starshine, all fade away, in a myriad of rose colored frenzied blazes. Your hands lost in the ash blonde strands at his nape; his, pulling you closer by the waist. Your kiss is a nebula of pulsating light, undimmed by even the most ruthless blizzards, lighting up the ebony of the pines obscuring the moonlight. Frozen air is exhausted in your lungs, but you don’t care right now, not when you’re kissing your prince charming under the lights of an aurora that’s still hours away.

A few moments pass, with the stars orbiting marking the approach of midnight.

A snow-kissed breeze caresses both your faces when you part, causing a shiver to rake through your body.

Your prince’s arms wrap around you.

When you look at him, matching chuckles fill the night air.

Moments like this were worth waiting all day for.

[perfectsunlight]

(𝟕𝟎) - 𝐄𝐏𝐈𝐋𝐎𝐆𝐔𝐄

𝗐𝖺𝗋𝗇𝗂𝗇𝗀𝗌: none

𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬: 𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮

5 YEARS LATER

the sounds of the ocean waves crashing against the shore echoed in your ears as you walked through the sand, the cool breeze ruffling your hair and sending a shiver of delight down your spine. jimin's hand was in yours, her fingers interlocked with yours, and the sensation of her touch was both comforting and electrifying. the two of you strolled along the shoreline, the wet sand beneath your feet leaving a trail of footprints as you ventured further into the embrace of the tranquil beach.

the sun hung low in the sky, casting an orange glow that painted everything in ethereal shades. the world around you seemed to be in a state of suspended beauty, each moment existing in perfect harmony with the next. the rhythmic ebb and flow of the waves provided a soothing soundtrack, a melody that synchronized with the steady rhythm of your heartbeats.

as you walked, memories of your past flooded your mind. this beach held a special place in your heart, as it was the same location where you and your lover had attended the lantern festival years ago. the magic of that night was the catalyst to the journey of your renewed relationship.

you glanced at jimin, her profile illuminated by the daylight. her smile was a radiant reflection of the happiness you both felt, a silent acknowledgment of the journey you had undertaken together. the years had been kind, bringing success and fulfillment to both of your groups. aespa and le sserafim had become pillars of the industry, leaving their mark on the fourth generation of idols and opening the door for the fifth generation.

your thoughts wandered to the present moment, your upcoming contract renewal looming on the horizon. aespa had recently made the decision to renew their contract for another four years, a choice that signified their commitment to their journey as a group. the music industry was evolving, and the decision was a reflection of the changing landscape and the group's aspirations for the future.

with a squeeze of jimin's hand, you found comfort in her presence. the path ahead was filled with uncertainty, but the bond you shared gave you strength and reassurance. the future was a canvas waiting to be painted, a story waiting to be written, and you were determined to face it together.

"did you miss this place?" jimin's voice broke the silence, her tone a mixture of nostalgia and fondness. "i know i did."

you nodded, a smile tugging at the corners of your lips. "i did. i think i’ll always miss it here.”

jimin's eyes met yours, and in that moment, it was as if time stood still. the love and understanding that passed between you was palpable, a testament to the journey you had shared, the challenges you had overcome, and the dreams you had pursued.

as you continued your leisurely walk along the shoreline, the sun's warm embrace cast a golden halo around you both, painting the world in hues of amber and rose. the gentle lapping of the waves against the sand provided a soothing rhythm, a backdrop to the symphony of emotions that swirled between you. every step you took felt like a dance, a choreography of heartbeats and whispered promises.

jimin's gaze held a certain intensity, a fire that burned with a passion you had grown to cherish. the way she looked at you spoke volumes, a language of love that transcended words. her fingers tightened around yours, and you could feel the energy that pulsed through her, a magnetic force drawing you closer.

as the two of you came to a stop, the sun's golden rays seemed to converge around you, casting a spotlight on the moment that was about to unfold. the world around you seemed to just melt into the both of you as you bathed in the light of dusk.

you walked a little closer to the water, not letting go of jimin’s hand as she stood behind you a few steps. the water rushed up to your ankles, a soothing sensation paired with the sand between your toes. behind you, you heard the raven haired girl taking a deep breath.

her voice, when it came, was a gentle caress intertwined with the ambience of the nature around you two. "you know," she began, and you could hear the smile on her lips, "this place holds a lot of memories for us."

a soft smile played on your lips as you nodded, your heart swelling with a mixture of anticipation and wonder. "it really does. we should bring our members here sometime. they’d love it.”

every year, on the date of your anniversary, you and your girlfriend made the trip down to busan. it was a little tradition you did, and each time you were here together, you made even more memories.

jimin's thumb caressed the top of your hand, her touch sending a cascade of warmth through your being. her gaze remained on you. you couldn’t see it, but the idol swore you shone brighter than the sun on the horizon.

your eyes were glued to the scenery in front of you. the evening tide created a symphony of sounds as the waves continued to meet the shore. mentally you took a photo of the view. a few seagulls flew overhead and the salt air reminded you that you were present in this moment.

something in the sand caught your eye as you leaned down to pick up a seashell you found underneath your foot. it was small and teal, holding intricate swirls and lines. “hey look at this…” 

the rest of the words died in your throat as you turned around and saw your girlfriend on one knee.

with one hand still holding yours, jimin rested the other on the top of her knee. the waves still met skin, and jimin didn’t care that her jeans were getting wet right now. all she cared about was you.

all she would ever care about would be you.

“this place does hold a lot of memories for us,” the dark haired girl repeated slowly, grazing her thumb across the top of your hand once more. “but i want to make one more.”

jimin's voice was a soft melody that seemed to weave itself into the very fabric of the evening, her words carrying a weight that transcended time and space. her eyes bore into yours, a profound intensity that held your gaze captive, the world around you fading into insignificance as you stood on the precipice of a moment that would forever shape your destiny.

"i've only seen daylight since the moment i met you," she confessed, her voice steady yet filled with a depth of emotion that resonated within your heart. "i’d been sleeping so long in a 20 year dark night. but now i only see daylight."

her words held a gravity that left you breathless, each syllable etching itself into your soul. you felt a lump forming in your throat, emotions swirling like a tempest within you, and the seashell in your hand felt like a precious artifact, a symbol of the memories you had shared and the moments yet to come.

your lover’s midnight gaze remained locked with yours, unwavering and intense. "i once believed love would be black and white," she continued, her voice soft yet resolute. “but it’s golden. you've painted my world with shades of color that i never thought possible.”

a tear escaped your eye, tracing a glistening path down your cheek as her words enveloped you in an embrace of emotions. the sun had descended lower, casting an ethereal glow around you, as if nature itself was bearing witness to this profound declaration of love.

"i don't want to look at anything else now that i saw you," jimin's voice held a mixture of vulnerability and determination, a plea that echoed through the very depths of your soul. "you are my sun, my muse, and my anchor. everything i do is for you.”

she took a deep breath, her gaze never leaving yours, her hand still resting on her knee, the waves continuing their tender caress against her skin. “and i want it to always be that way. i want everything about me, to always be about you.”

the world seemed to hold its breath, every element of nature converging to amplify this moment. 

"you know," her voice trembled slightly, a testament to the intensity of her emotions, "i bought you this on the day you left all those years ago. we’ve come a long way since then, but there’s one thing that i know hasn’t changed.”

time seemed to stand still, the universe holding its collective breath as the weight of her question hung in the air. your heart thudded loudly in your chest, the seashell in your hand becoming a talisman of your fate.

you gazed into her eyes, seeing the vulnerability and devotion that radiated from her, feeling the bond that had grown between you over the years. the tears in your eyes shimmered like stars, reflecting the love that had brought you to this moment.

jimin’s own tears glistened along her waterline as wind blew through her hair. she could feel her pulse in her ears as she slowly opened the velvet box with her free hand. there in all its glory, was the golden band with the single diamond. it was still just as beautiful as it was on the day your lover had first seen it.

the same could be said for you. no, it actually couldn't. because you were even more beautiful with each passing day. 

at the sight of the ring, your tears spilled over even more. you felt your heart swell, the sensation almost overwhelming as the gravity of her words settled over you like a warm embrace. the evening sun painted the sky in hues of gold and crimson, casting an otherworldly glow around the two of you, as if the very universe was conspiring to create a canvas for your love.

the air was charged with anticipation, each moment stretched to its fullest as you both stood on the precipice of forever. jimin's hand trembled slightly, a mixture of nerves and raw emotion, as she slowly opened the velvet box with her free hand. the ring glistened in the fading sunlight, seeming to capture the very essence of your love.

her tears mirrored your own, shimmering like stars in the twilight sky. the emotions in the air were palpable, a testament to the depth of the connection that had grown between you over the years. time seemed to fold in on itself, every moment you had shared leading you to this culmination, this exquisite declaration of your love and commitment.

"choi y/n," her voice quivered, the final thread that held you both on the edge of destiny, "will you marry me?"

the question hung in the air like a delicate note, a melody that resonated in your heart and soul. and in that suspended moment, you felt the weight of your answer, the gravity of your decision, and the boundless love that had brought you to this juncture.

"yes," you whispered, your voice echoing through the universe, carrying with it a lifetime of dreams and desires. "yes, a thousand times yes."

a radiant smile lit up on the older girl’s face, her eyes glistening with tears of joy as she slipped the ring onto your finger. the sun sank lower, casting a warm, golden glow over the beach, as if nature itself was applauding your union.

and then, as if guided by an invisible force, the two of you moved as one, drawn by an irresistible magnetic pull. in a whirlwind of emotion, laughter, and sheer exhilaration, your lips met in a passionate, tender kiss. the world seemed to dissolve around you, leaving only the sensations of each other's touch, the taste of salt on your lips, and the symphony of the waves as your backdrop. 

with a joyous laugh that bubbled up from the depths of your beings, you stumbled backward, your bodies entwined as you fell into the inviting embrace of the ocean. the cool water enveloped you both, completely soaking the both of you.

“i love you.” jimin shouted over the waves crashing over you two. you couldn’t help but laugh even more as she brushed a few wet strands of hair out of your face. the water clung to your clothes, making them heavy but somehow enhancing the weightlessness you both felt in each other's arms. as you laid on top of your now fiancé, you couldn’t help but smile. 

and as you smiled, yu jimin could only mirror you. it was always going to be like this. everything about her was always going to be about you.

she wouldn’t have it any other way, and neither would you.

this was the beginning of a new chapter of a love story that had been written in the stars and now continued to unfold in the embrace of the sea. 

because everything turned out okay in the end. to be honest, jimin had married you in her head back when you were just trainees. if only she could go back and tell her 16 year old self that the two of you made it. 

the stars had aligned, the sun and the moon had danced for days, the ocean and the air both caressing each other for hundreds of days straight to witness this moment in time.

as jimin’s lips met yours once again, still laying on top of her on the sand in the water, you couldn’t help but remember what you had told yourself all those years ago on this very same beach.

ironically, it also answered the question you had been asking yourself for years. but either way deep down, you had always known the truth.

you could never forget about yu jimin. and yu jimin could never forget about you.

“i love you, too.”

𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐞𝐧𝐝.

𝐚/𝐧: 𝐒𝐔𝐑𝐏𝐑𝐈𝐒𝐄 >:) 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐢'𝐝 𝐞𝐧𝐝 𝐢𝐭 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐬𝐞 𝐭𝐰𝐨 𝐦𝐟𝐬 𝐠𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐝?? 𝐚𝐧𝐲𝐰𝐚𝐲, 𝐢𝐧 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐬. 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐥 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞, 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐢𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐚𝐥 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫. :) 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐤 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐮𝐩𝐩𝐨𝐫𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬. 𝐢 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐚𝐥𝐥.

┊ ┊ ┊ ┊ ┊ ┊ ┊ ✫ ˚♡ ⋆｡ ❀ ┊ ☪︎⋆ ⊹ ┊ . ˚ ✧

you and jimin met as trainees before she debuted, and you two never felt more in love. however, once she breaks up with you before her debut, you completely leave SM entertainment under the notion of needing a fresh start. you eventually debuted a few years later in le sserafim, where you met huh yunjin and have slowly started developing feelings for the idol. much to karina's dismay, she hates to see you have moved on, but deep in your own heart, you still can't help but feel as if maybe she has forgotten about you.

𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭: @captivq , @wonyoluvr , @yunalvrrr , @spritin , @babycubchae , @vnschldd , @sserafimez , @chaersly , @rosiehrs , @baldd , @bwljules , @jenaissantesworld , @jennasluma , @dream-chasers-things , @lcv3lies , @elyds , @archerheejin , @vnschldd , @skisk1 , @cfvgbhndun-new-blog , @silantryoo , @phamminji , @bzeus28 , @writingficsblog , @strangegirlcode , @uzumakioden , @noiacha , @sserabey , @archerheejin , @pindoris , @yourstrulytrissmerigold , @jisooftme , @yacii , @ddrummie , @justalittledissociation

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