#the way I draw moon has changed once again

[a-d-nox]

astro hypothesis: what's your ideal bedroom like?

once upon a time (a year ago) i spoke of using your house rulers to deep dive into the story of the houses. i did a hypothesis about money and another about careers - but what about your home? for that take a look at your 4h and the persona chart of its ruler (ex: my 4h is in gemini, i will be looking at my mercury persona chart NOT my ic persona (thats more family and childhood dynamics in my opinion)).

today i want to focus on somewhere critical to all of us - our bedroom. you can look at the 12h and/or the moon in this chart to get a better idea of what your ideal bedroom looks like or should be like to feel most rested and comfortable.

why?

the 12h rules over solitude (where you might go to escape everyone else in your household), the subconscious (where we supposedly go in deep sleep), etc.

the moon rules over comfort (what we find comfort in), the subconscious (which connects again to deep sleep and dreaming), cycles and rhythms (hi sleep cycle and circadian rhythm), etc.

so here are some observations of what i believe to be important to a room based on these factors in your 4h ruler's persona chart.

a capricorn (10°, 22°) moon / 12h saturn / capricorn 12h / moon aspecting saturn person likely wants a minimal room. they don't what a lot of clutter - if their room is cluttered they might be experiencing a lot of waking/life stress/anxiety that is effecting their sleep. they like neutral and natural colors in a room - beiges, "agreeable grey", dark green, and dark blues in particular allows them to feel calm and as though they are able to relax. arctic white paint or cool white light may trigger them into feeling like they are in work mode instead of relax mode. they seek quality furniture that is timeless - they don't want to constantly have to replace the pieces they have in their room because they don't last or no longer fit the style. they don't want to have to think at the end of the day that something broke or they hate a piece because it doesn't fit the trend anymore and they now have to replace it. they don't want another thing they have to do, they just want to crash. organization is key - everything in their room should have a spot. they want everything that belongs in there to have a place (books are organized by author/series, clothing is color/season organized, glasses have a spot on a side table, jewelry has an organizer that rarely changes, etc). there is often a very refined and elegant feeling to their room. the sheets have a classic design (they are white or white and grey), the mirror is elegant yet classic, the bed is simple yet fits and fills the space well, etc. and most importantly room darkening curtains and lots of blankets (no capricorn/saturn person wants to be awakened by the sun or because they are too cold at night)!!!

a gemini (3°, 15°, 27°) moon / 12h mercury / gemini 12h / moon aspecting mercury person might have a rather eclectic style in their room. it might feel like they are testing out a look or like they have a lot of different vibes that don't necessarily fit one another. color finds its way into this room no matter what and it is often multiple colors at once that draw a person's attention. its very strange because this space is never just a sleep space for them often its multi-functional in some way shape or form like they have the ability to have a sitting space for others... could be a chair or a window seat or a desk... speaking of desks - books, vinyl, cds, gadgets, etc are a big part of the gemini/mercury vibes in a space. often their media have a spotlight moment in a room. lastly this space has an air of awareness in it - its not totally sleepy vibes, you know for sure when you see this space its not just for sleep. this is a place of study, reading, music listening, etc. it might just feel like not much sleep occurs in the space at all!

leo (5°, 17°, 29°) moon / 12h sun / leo 12h / moon aspecting sun rooms are warm and inviting. there are likely gold elements or warm paint colors used in the room. luxury is a must - the bed is likely memory foam or plush - the pillows are probably hotel/high quality. the comforter is down feathers and/or a fluffy/fuzzy blanket is present. it is very likely that stuffed animals are present too or at least one that is too adorable not to be there. there is some sort of central piece in this room - a giant mirror, a big art piece over the bed, a grand wall of books, etc. something in the room is guaranteed to always get a compliment from people who peak in during a house tour. it is also rather common especially in younger years for these people to keep their awards/trophies on display in their room as it fills them with a great sense of pride. windows are very important to this person's bedroom too as they tend to enjoy natural light when they can get it.

aries (1°, 13°, 25°) moon / 12h mars / aries 12h / moon aspecting mars people love a bold look in their room. its the energy of platform beds, industrial metal frames, etc. if they can use an "aggressive" color (red, orange, yellow, etc) in a bedroom they will... however they like a modern and sleek look despite their bold color schemes. they also like a minimal room - the bedroom is for their bed - point, blank, period. it's about having the essentials nothing more nothing less. they won't being using decorative pillows they have to remove every night or a decorative blanket that just hangs over their footboard. heavens forbid a decorative ladder with a decorative blanket that's not for use but for the eye. if they can't use it, they don't need or want it in the space it will just make them annoyed and cause them to feel like everything is in the way of them getting to the relax/wind-down portion of their day. now strangely enough, they often workout in their bedroom, so it wouldn't be shocking to find a pull up bar in the doorway or a peloton bike in the corner of the room. and 10/10 they will be getting up using an alarm - but it is rather unlikely they will need multiple alarms to make them get out of their bed in the morning.

likely more to come on home hypotheses, as i look to make renovations to my own home despite/because of being creatively burnt out. thank the heavens for astrology doing the leg work.

-a.d.

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© a-d-nox 2024 all rights reserved

[existentialcrisis-9-5]

DCA Subnautica AU

Version #2 of the designs, including the bioluminescence! + fun tidbits on each of the goobers and a visual on Y/N!

(Edit: it’s out now! Check my bio for the link)

Eclipse is up first!

Theirs was the first design I drew out in any detail (as shown in the crude MS Paint drawing), so it's the one that needed the most work. Even after making the more detailed version with the lights, I still ended up changing things as I got a better grasp on what direction I wanted to head in. Fun lore tidbit! Eclipse is a freak of nature and should not look like that! They're properly split down the middle between day and night. Also I messed it up in the drawing because I was tired when I made it, but they're also covered in scars and bite marks.

Sun !!

I did Sun next, and here I had a better idea for what I was going for. There were still a few problems with this design though, which got changed. This is also where I started drawing the pattern on the tail, which I felt looked weird in this picture. Fun tidbit! Sun has an inability to express his feelings in the appropriate fish mermaid way, leading to much confusion.

Moon !!

Moon was done last. Once again, I learned from this drawing and changed Moon's design to match, however Moon is the one that remains the most unchanged! I knew what I was going for by the time I got to him each time, so I guess that helped. Something I did alter, however, were some of the lights. I found that they either blended together too much or weren't as visible as I would have liked. Fun tidbit! This is pose actually based on a scene in one of the chapters. It was actually one of the earliest written scenes.

Y/N, my beloved <3

I did 2 versions of Y/N, one with longer hair and one with shorter. It was important for me, when writing the story, that I kept the person I'm imagining as vague as possible, with the only physical descriptions being "physically fit" and having a few scars (for plot reasons), so this is only for me and whatever drawings I do. As a result of trying to keep it vague, I ended up going with the shorter hair (though in the final reference I made it a bit longer than shown here). Fun tidbit! The green is because whenever I'm sketching, I have 4 colours I sketch in to differentiate parts of the picture (usually background vs foreground or different people), and green was the one I used here (red, blue and purple were taken, I'm sure you can understand why). It ended up sticking, since I didn't want to go with the orange that's on Ryley's suit in order to avoid possible confusion.

That's it for now! At some point, I'll post the full references for each of them, but until then, the next thing I post will probably be chapter 1!

[soaringwide]

Pick a Card: Month Ahead #01

This was written for May 2024 but with the intention to be timeless, so even if you find it later there might be a message for your next month.

We'll look into your energy coming into the month, but also what will be the theme/area of focus and what you'll need to pay attention to, as well as the surprises that might come your way.

It's my first time doing a pick a card like this so we'll see how it turns out! I love doing those privately though.

As always, be mindful that this is a general reading meant for multiple people so it might not be 100% fitting for your situation, and that it's based on the energy you hold at the moment of selecting a pile that draws you to one of them.

PILE 1

Cards: Page of Cups, Queen of Wands, 9 of Cups, Ace of Swords, the Emperor, Strength, 5 of Cups, the Moon, Queen of Cups, 5 of Wands rx, Ace of Pentacles, 4 of Cups, Page of Wands

For your energy coming into the month, I see you being in a state of being in tune with your heart, opening up to the possible rise of a new romantic connection. I get the sense that you're cautiously optimistic about it, because while you feel confident within yourself and in a happy place, you're also aware that it's too early to tell. But you're not letting that deter you and you're fully embracing your own power, feeling good about yourself and where you're at while looking ahead hopefully and waiting for an opportunity to move forward. I think for you the process of the month ahead has already started a bit before the start of the new month and you're continuing the process.

When it comes to the theme of the month, I see the importance of putting your emotional fulfillment at the forefront and being actively working towards it. There is a need to bring clarity about the situation, clarity that will bring you contentment and tie loose ends. You will be determined to work through that with willpower and determination by taking the lead and stop wasting time around. I think you are seeing the path forward for this connection and you're determined to go for it and not let it escape. You got four cards here and they all represent a different element, which I interpret as the fact that harmony within and for yourself will be a big theme as well. Between your feelings, your thoughts and your actions, everything will be grounded in your authentic self.

I think these past few months have not always been great for you and you're determined to leave that behind and enter the new chapter of your life. You've learned all you had to about your old ways and now you're ready for a change. So for the goal you'll have in mind, you will be focused on not falling back into the same patterns of thoughts and behaviors and keep moving forward with determination and a sense that you can't go back to what you once where.

The challenge that will arise will come from your own psyche. I get the sense that you still have unresolved issues within yourself that may cloud this great picture, so you will have to be extra careful about not letting your fears and doubts making you spiral down and do or say something that doesn't align with your truth. You might go through times where you feel irritable or anxious and you may take that as a proof that things are going to shit again and you might want to run away, but it's an illusion. It just means that you still have some inner clutter to sort out. Be careful about not shutting yourself off from others as a reaction to your inner pain.

When it comes to a surprise coming your way, it seems there will be an event that will create a shift from a confusing and chaotic situation to one of open communication of feelings, laying out a more positive base for the future. I'm getting the sense that this is what the theme of the month was referring to, and while you seek it, you don't really know how it will unfold so it will still be a surprise when it happens. When this even happens, be as open and honest as possible in order to clear out any possible miscommunication, be kind and listen to what the other person has to say with empathy and love at heart.

What you'll have gained by the end of the month will be a stable and solid start towards the future. Things are blossoming but you'll have learned that there's no point rushing into anything and that things come when the time is right. You'll be set to build on that for the months to come. Maybe the start of a new commitment although things are in their very early stage.

As a final advice, it is important not to shut yourself off from your emotions and not to stay stuck in your old ways of remaining passive. Stay open and assertive, go after what you want and I get the strong message that you need to communicate openly about everything that isn't clear in this connection. Don't just wait around for things to fall onto your lap. Be passionate and enthusiastic and again be clear about your intentions. Also, you're learning something new and important so be gentle with yourself if you don't get everything perfectly from the get go, what matters is to do your best.

PILE 2

Cards: King of Wands, Queen of Cups, the Lovers rx, 8 of Cups rx, Queen of Pentacles, Ace of Swords, Memento Mori, 10 of Swords, King of Pentacles, Queen of Wands, 2 of Wands, The Chariot, Knight of Pentacles, 6 of Pentacles, 3 of Cups rx, 7 of Cups

For the general vibe of this pile, it feels a bit overwhelming like there is so much to pay attention to that you are somewhat disconnected from yourself as a result, because your feelings are so confusing that you get lost in them. There are A LOT of court cards, which may mean that there is a situation that brings the intervention of a lot of different people, perhaps it will be busy at work, or something involving family, creating a very messy situation where everyone has something to say and you can't hear yourself anymore. Really there is so much external influences here that I had a hard time picking up on YOU until the end of the reading.

For the energy you have coming into the month, I really think you are in a committed relationship with someone (and if not it's not your pile), but there is a big disharmony here. It seems one of you is on the way out of the relationship (represented by the King of Wands), and the fact that the Queen of Wands shows as a challenge later in the reading, I'm getting that this person already has someone in mind. It seems you are longing for the way the relationship used to be and it feels over, but you are having difficulties moving on right now. It's also possible you're just longing for the idea of Love altogether and wishing you could drop everything you have right now to run towards it. There is a choice to be made but right now at the end of the month, you are not making a move one way or another.

The theme of the month to come for you pile 2 makes a lot of sense considering what I already wrote. You will have to focus on your own clarity and get grounded in yourself, trying to find stillness in the chaos that surrounds you in order to get the answers you need, based on your own guidance. I'm also getting that you feel resistant to change and the call of life, and that you may feel a bit dead inside and numb as a result. There is a need to find excitement for the miracle of life again which has been lost due to your complex situation. ''The meaning is in the Middle'' is what's written on the card and writing down in case it speaks to anyone.

For what you'll consciously focus on this month, I'm getting just like...trying not to break down completely and at the same time keeping up with your demanding job and practical life issues. Perhaps this impending breakup is causing financial stress and you don't know how things will turn out. So your goal will be navigating that in order to stay on top of things both mentally and professionally/financially.

Okay this is where it finally clicks because I was confused whether you where the one with the third party of the one who is perhaps cheated on. With the King of Pentacles longingly looking at the Queen of Wands (the third party I mentioned before - don't take gender into account though) standing next to him, I'm getting that YOU are wondering how to welcome this new passionate connection into your busy life and how to make it fit from a practical standpoint with your current relationship. The Queen seems to be both a challenge and an opportunity, I don't necessarily get that this Queen is a bad omen, it's just a difficult situation that require a choice on your part.

For the unexpected thing that will happen this month, I'm not getting a particular event but rather, how it will change the course of what you're doing. This surprise will force you to weight your options and start pursuing what you desire, getting out of that rut you are in. There will be progress moving forward as I don't think you'll be left indecisive for too long. There is a sense of urgency here, whether it's perceived or true, you will feel it deeply and it will push you into actions. You will be surprised by how determined you suddenly feel after the indecision of the past.

What will be gained after the month ends is a newfound stability as you'll have regained your footing. From that point in the spread it's like things have cleared up a bit and there's open space. There is a new beginning on the horizon but unlike the urgency that led you to that point, there is now the need to take things slow and build strong foundations.

The advice you got was that, well, it's time to choose what you want to do with this third party. You can't keep holding things like that without making a choice. You might also need to distance yourself from bad influences around you like friends or family and again focus on yourself. The second advice is about restoring some type of balance between giving and taking. It seems someone has or will give you something and you'll have to give something in return so that not to break the flow of the relationship.

PILE 3

Cards: 4 of Swords rx, 8 of Pentacles, 4 of pentacles, 3 of Pentacles rx, 7 of Pentacles, 9 of Pentacles, 5 of Wands, 9 of Wands, Justice, 4 of Wands, King of Cups, the Moon, 9 of Swords, Temperance, 6 of Swords, the Fool

For your energy coming into the month, I see that you might have been feeling burnt out for a while now due to over-exhausting yourself with work or your studies, something you've put a lot of care and energy into in any case. You feel stagnant and somewhat demotivated and the whole thing is weighting on you. It's like you've put so much effort into working on this issue that you feel totally depleted emotionally. However, you can't seem to let go a bit in order to get things flowing again and you remain stuck, fearing everything is going to go to waste if you relax a bit.

The theme of this month will be to find your support system and reach out for help in order to get you to find new solutions to your issue. Not everything can be done alone. Furthermore, not every project can be rushed through all the time, sometimes you have to let it rest for a bit and let it grow under the surface of the soil. You will find great benefit from focusing on your own enjoyment and pleasure for a change in order to find a new perspective on your situation.

Despite that, it seems your mind will still be set on proving yourself this month. It's like, you feel burnt out and stagnant, and instead of getting the cue that you need to slow down a bit, you look at others and wonder why you can't hustle like them. Basically you're sensing there is an issue but you're trying to solve it in a toxic way by comparing yourself to others and feeling threatened by their success, triggering your self esteem issues.

The challenged you will have to face have to do with accepting to restore the balance in your life and take a break to have a bit of fun. Sounds like a false problem but it seems it's quite difficult for you to do at the moment because you're so focused on your tasks. It's a critical point though because if you don't cut off the toxic behaviors that are burying you into the ground, you will face the repercussions of your own non-action further down the line. You might have a hard time socializing because your heart is not there and you might feel left out, even though it would do you good to get a change of scenery and get out of your cave for a while.

For the unexpected thing that will happen this month, this will have to do with some type of emotional reconnection that will lead to more balance. It's very possible that it'll be uncomfortable at first as all the negative feelings you've been pushing under the rug all this time are resurfacing, but if you manage to stay afloat you will find a greater sense of mastery over them. I'm not getting anything precise as to what's gonna happen, but it will have to do with you being forced to take the blindfolds off and finally pay attention to your mental health. This might be the inner crisis you need to get back in a better shape.

What will have been gained by the end of the month has to do with leaving behind this way of doing and thinking you were holding onto at the beginning of the month. You will finally be able to get moving again, even if it will feel somewhat bitter and hard to do, remember it's for the better because you could not keep going on like you did.

The advice for you to help you navigate things is to not take everything so seriously all the time. Don't focus too much on what's not working or what you could do better or even on what you can't control, but try to find hope and the sense that a new beginning is at hand if only you open yourself up to it. Whoever is sending you this advice really encourages you to enjoy the little things and find your youthful spirit again. Things won't stay bleak forever so the best thing you can do is let yourself move along the stream.

[ayyy-imma-ninja]

"W...W-Why are you doing this...?!" Sun blinked and cocked his head, feigning the look of an innocent child. "Huh? Ohhh!" He rested an elbow in one hand, using the other to draw a circle in the air referencing the man's predicament before walking around his chair. "You mean the whole 'tying you up and torturing you' thing! Well, it's quite obvious, isn't it~?"

Sun stopped directly behind him, bending low to speak directly into the man's ear.

"For Calvin, Mr. Grisham. For Eloise. And for every child in this town who has had to suffer, because of monsters like you."

Mr. Grisham trembled in his restraints, the sweet-sounding voice of Sun now laced with sinister and utter darkness. "Please, I-"

"Did you know-!" Sun halted him, continuing his walk around the chair. He waved an arm in Moon's direction, who fluidly twirled his knife, watching the man's blood still caked on it flick about the room. "My brother and I used to take care of children? You remember the pizzeria in the big city, don't you? Well, just because we are no longer daycare attendants, that doesn't mean our roles have changed. No no no~ Our roles have simply-"

Sun stopped back in front of Mr. Grisham's chair, getting into the man's face once more. His hands, once folded behind his back now gripping the arm rests. The wood creaked and nearly gave way from his grip alone. Sun's colored irises had shrunken down to slits, rattling with a craziness just waiting to bust free. His grin nearly stretched off of the edges of his face plate. A thin, black line formed between his teeth, and grew as his seemingly permanent-closed mouth, opened.

"Evolved," he finished, the word rattling in his robotic throat and chest.

Mr. Grisham whimpered, leaning back as much as he could from the looming animatronic. He squeezed his eyes and turned his head away. "S-Stop that-!"

Two hands grabbed at his head, turning it to face forward again. Two thumbs pulled his eyelids up, forcing him to look.

"What's wrong, Mr. Grisham~? Do I frighten you~?" Sun mockingly cooed. He leaned in closer, his nose pressed against Mr. Grisham's. "Good. Take a good, long, look, Mr. Grisham. I want you feel afraid. But this fear, is NOTHING compared to the fear you have inflicted upon your own children."

Sun's grip tightened. How easily he could pop this man's head like a grape. How badly he wanted to, how eagerly he wanted this maggot dead. But no. He had to suffer first. He had to pay. Sun relished in the man's whimpering as he trembled in his hands. Hot steam puffed from Sun's ajar mouth, ghosting the man's face.

"I wonder..." he thought aloud, his mouth a dangerous number of inches from the shivering man's head, "if I can scalp you with my own teeth~"

"Sun."

The animatronic paused, his eyes flicking to his left, towards Moon. The lunar animatronic stopped twirling his knife and simply stood there, giving his twin a known look between them with a raise brow.

Quickly--too quickly--Sun composed himself and stepped away, arms and hands open in surrender. "Ahaha! Apologies, brother! I got a little carried away there, didn't I?"

A small smile etched across Moon's face as he stepped forward. He couldn't fault Sun for his...eagerness. He placed a gloved hand on his twin's shoulder. "Go sanitize your gloves and face. Remove any traces of oil and skin."

Sun playfully saluted. "On it! I'll leave you to do the honors~" He then skipped away to do as instructed.

Mr. Grisham watched him go, bewildered and outright frightened by the swift changes in personality. Suddenly, something cold and sharp under his chin directed him to look forward, and he met Moon's hooded gaze, his face illuminated by narrow blue and red pupils. His own grin had widened and opened. Mr. Grisham whimpered as the tip of the knife pressed into his chin.

"Now that Sun's had his turn...looks like it's mine again~ Try to stay awake, Mr. Grisham. It's more fun that way~"

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

:3c

@moonlit-dreamers

[shintin]

The Hickey on Your Neck

↳ Vash the Stampede x Female Reader

One-shot

Summary: Only seconds before closing your eyes do you realize that the dreams you had forgotten among the lust and thrust of your lover were the life you were destined to lead.

Or a story about how You and Vash fucked from dawn to dusk on his birthday.

Word count: +17.5 k.

Genre: explicit smut, romance, angst (Trigun au).

Warnings/Tags: +18, NSFW, established relationship, soft/dom Vash the Stampede, too much fluff and kissing, scar worship, plant patterns display, manhandling, cunnilingus + fellatio, creampie,  fingering (with prosthetic arm), unprotected sex (c’mon! We want his seeds), multiple orgasms, hair pulling, two smut scenes (one romantic, other hardcore), aftercare, emotional trauma, violence, blood and gore, post-Trigun Stampede but no manga spoilers.

Notes: I'd never written a Trigun fic before, but with this Vash brain rot, I'm sure it won't be the last. I originally intended to name this fic "Sleepless Nightmare" after TOMBI song, but somehow changed my mind. You'll see why. "Elay" in my mother tongue means the Moon of a Tribe. A nick name Vash will use for reader.

By the way, you can also read the Disclaimers and Writer's Note at the end.

Song Recommendation: The Hickey on Your Neck Playlist

You can read my fics on AO3 and Wattpad. If you have any questions, don’t be shy and ASK. This is my DISCORD account, in case you want to contact me.

Back to master list.

07:30 pm – July 21st

A hole had been left in your heart. Throwing yourself backward, you tripped over your feet. Your head slammed into the floor as your arms did little to break your fall. It was a pain you'd never known, a pain you never thought you could feel, never would have even imagined. From the inside out, you were lit on fire by a bullet that went off in your chest.

All of a sudden, everything slowed down.

So this, you thought, was what dying felt like.

You blinked, and it seemed to take forever. The images before you were unfocused, with colors, bodies, and lights swaying in unison and stilted movements blurring. Your ears couldn't hear clearly. All the sounds were garbled, warped, and too high or low.

Who … she?

I asked for a tall, blond man with … eyes, and the folks pointed at her.

How come … shot her …?

She said … had never met such a man.

… idiot! What if she's with the gunman?

Whatever. … doesn't draw a gun anymore; rumor has it.

What a moron! The man may not kill, but … wiped out … whole city!

What … … we should … then?

If … … his girl, … … screwed up!

… the bounty! … get lost before the news …!

It was like all the words were banging into each other, colliding again, spinning around you. Your name seemed to be being called, but you couldn't hear it. Everything was muffled, slippery, and off-balance, like it was there, just out of reach, but you couldn't find it.

Heavy footsteps stomped, stomped, and stomped the ground, and a familiar face appeared before you. The shape, the golden and green colors drew your attention, and you tried raising your hand to feel his warmth once more and assure him that everything was okay, but it was too hard, and suddenly you couldn't breathe. Your throat felt like it was being slashed, holes punching into your lungs, and the more you blinked, the less clearly you could see. The tightest breaths, tiny little gasps, were soon all you could manage. Pain, pain, and more pain followed the dizziness and lightheaded feeling. It was terrible, never seeming to end.

Your sight suddenly went dim. Blindness overtook you.

Blood dripped from you rather than being seen as you blinked, blinked, and blinked in a desperate attempt to regain your vision, but all you saw was a cloud of white. A short frantic gasp and the pounding of your eardrums were all heard. Some warm sensation spread throughout your body as the fresh blood pooled under you.

You knew your life was about to evaporate, and it only made you think about how short you lived with him and how he would blame himself for your loss. Leaving your tears to fall, you whispered, "I-I'm sorry, Vash."

05:45 am - July 21st

A sharp intake of breath caused your eyes to fly open. Your skin froze in a cold sweat as your brain waded in waves of distress. Inhaling as much as possible was the only thing you could do. Your chest heaved, and your heart raced. You looked around, feeling the stillness within the madness, blinking hard against the white ceiling.

Your hands reached your throat and chest. No blood. No holes. You could feel your pulse. That must be the sound of your heart, at least, you hoped.

There was a strange feeling in your gut, like your instincts were stumbling through mud, and your bones were filled with stones. Your eyes shifted to the other side of the bed, and you sighed in relief. The reality sleeping next to you brought a moment of clarity. You sat up on your elbows, head spinning as you glanced at the nightstand.

The glass was empty.

You slowly pushed the sheets aside and felt more awake with your bare feet touching the cold floor. Picking up the glass, you tiptoed toward the murky kitchen.

You reached for the pitcher on the table, but the water never made it to your lips; instead, your trembling hands grabbed the faded and scratched edges of the cabinet as if letting go of this old piece of plywood would plunge you into the blackhole of your nightmare.

A muffled whimper escaped from the bottom of your throat, and you whispered, it was just a dream. Yet, your white knuckles became wet as tears streamed down your face, blurring the cracked tiles before you.

You shouldn't have cried. You should have been stronger. Not just for yourself, but...

Incoherent thoughts still occurred to you as you pressed your palm to your lips—a fruitless attempt to stop any further crying from coming out.

It was just a dream. Everything was fine.

Your glistening eyes were fixed on the glass of water as you took a sip and pushed the venom-like lump down your throat. Nobody was going to lose anyone. This fear was deeply buried under the sands of your heart. Why did it have to appear today of all days?

A chill ran down your esophagus. Your hand shook involuntarily, and a few drops of water slid from the corner of your mouth to your chin and neck and then ran to your perked nipples.

Looking down at your body, you wiped the drops away before feeling cold. After all, this planet didn't earn its name, "Noman's Land" for nothing. The weather could get pretty chilly and cruel in this desert when those two suns weren't out. Moreover, let's not forget how many people were denied heat due to a lack of resources. Ugh! So, it's not like you didn't know you should've worn something, but God damn it! You woke up feeling a great deal of fear. Fuck! Still, you weren't eager to catch a cold. At least, not today. As you were about to return to bed, you suddenly stopped. Random images filled your mind.

Tears staining emerald green eyes, red flowers blooming on blood, and heart-wrenching screams fading in the night, all in an empty room filled with balloons and mud.

The next gulp of water tasted salty, leaving you feeling numb. Tears must have flowed down your cheeks. You lowered your glass and let your thoughts drift away.

There was a flash of your limp body in your mind, accompanied by a sharp twinge in your gut, a screaming sensation in your body, as if your lungs craved for air.

You wicked away the images, expunging thoughts of pain and death from your mind. The churning in your stomach began to slow, but your skin took on a damp, clammy sensation in its wake. You struggled to recount the things you had eaten last night. It must be it. No doubt, you had eaten poorly.

It was just a dream. What the hell was wrong with you? Crying over a dream? What were you, five? No, not today! Not today! Not today! Get your shits together!

After a moment of hesitation, you rubbed your eyes with the back of your hand, ran your palm across your forehead and nose, and stopped it on your mouth before glancing at the bed.

Your pale face bloomed with a faint smile as you saw the sight—a miracle in this barren wilderness.

The curtains of the half-open window fluttered lazily with the morning breeze, letting the suns' rays play upon his scarred shoulder blades now and then, and run their greedy fingers through the golden waves of his hair, an enraged sea of sunflowers bounded by rough rocky beaches on the side. Oh! His undercut was glorious from where you watched.

He was sleeping with his eyelids slowly moving. The corners of his lips were curved upwards. Today seemed to be one of those rare days when he was free of the burdens of his past. Was he dreaming? What was his dream about? Love? Peace? Foods? Probably sweets!

You tried to avoid the woods squeaking beneath your feet as you walked back. Putting the glass of water next to the orange-tinted shades, you slowly climbed back under the warm sheets without shifting the mattress too much.

Once your head touched the pillow, cinnamon, and caramel again filled your nostrils. The man ate so many donuts that you feared he would become one. When you pictured it, your smile reached your eyes, and you giggled silently.

Like on the days you woke up early, you rolled over to face him and let your eyes roam over his abs muscles and those beautiful V lines guiding you to his secret paradise. Other than the massive gash across his chest, he had several cuts on his arms, wounds on his shoulders, and scars all over his back and legs. This man was a walking history, marked with painful memories, and luckily, your lips had perfectly mastered the story behind every blemish, slit, and stitch on his body.

It wasn't that simple, though.

When you first met him, he was a broken man covered in an old cloak, his eyes filled with agony. He was consumed by remorse, but nonetheless, he was still full of life and willing to try and glue back all his broken parts. Indeed, it was a challenge for him, and somehow, it didn't come easy to you either. Your heart ached when you removed each piece of clothing from his body. You cursed those who hurt him. It took you time and love to learn how to cherish those wounds instead of looking at them with pity. And little by little, your eyes learned to see a delicate kind of beauty in them, as if, every once in a while, you could see the sunlight shining through the cracks of his heart, lighting up your world in a most wonderful way.

Perhaps that's why after years of running, running, and running, he stopped for once and decided to rest. Something about you must have felt like home. And how lucky you were to have this?

06:30 am - July 21st

You couldn't look away from him, your mind unable to comprehend the perfection of this happiness. He was so ethereal you could hardly fathom that he was yours, wanted and loved you. You couldn't even hear yourself think over the rush of blood in your ears. The sight of him sleeping beside you, relaxed and vulnerable, was causing wild, desperate thoughts to race through your head. God! The fantasies you'd had about him. The places your mind had gone.

You sighed and brushed your face to the pillow, hoping he would roll over to you in his sleep so you could get back into his arms and the legs draped around you. Your eyelids peered at the glistening prosthetic arm in the soft light of the down. Could he feel your warmth whenever you kissed those fingers? How come you had never asked? There were many things you hadn't asked him yet.

Maybe you should start tomorrow? Hm? It's not like the world was ending today.

"You're going to come back over here, or you want to leave me cold and lonely?" he murmured, the raggedness in his voice confirming that he had been sleeping. Your gaze shifted upwards to meet his eyes, only to realize they were still shut, but his lips were painted with a playful grin.

Something inside you melted. It moved by his words, his smile, and his voice.

"I thought you were asleep." You scooted closer, and he wrapped his arms around you, cautious not to accidentally hurt you when he slipped his left arm beneath your neck. "I didn't want to wake you up." Your forehead pressed against his chest, and you felt the coldness of the iron mesh against your skin. His chin rested on your head, and his toes caressed your legs. The prickles of scars and fine hairs of his limbs tickled yours, and you felt blessed.

Funny how your nightmare faded the moment you felt his warmth like he burned a hole right through your head and pulled all your thoughts out. Well, other than that, it seemed like this morning, everything about him was exactly what you needed. His voice was calm and caring, his arms protective, and his presence comforting. You didn't want him to let go of you.

"Even if you had woken me up," he said, his artificial fingers sinking into your hair, and he continued, "I wouldn't have minded." A light kiss on the crown of your head followed his honest words. Even though this man kissed you every day and night, you could feel a silent giggle seeping into your body, causing your face to blush bright red.

Vash yawned soundlessly as he pulled you closer, his eyes still closed. The two of you were so close, too close, but never close enough for him. You had come to realize that your body heat did more for him than any blanket could. It was always in his eyes, aching with a desperate yearning he could only meet with you and your touch.

A joyful happiness settled between you as his hands drew shapes and patterns alongside your spine like those bright ones sometimes you could see on his body. Your lips curved into a smile as you watched him. His hair thick and blonde. The lines of his body sharp and robust. Damn! He had everything about him beautifully crafted. His nose. His chin. His ears and eyebrows. The eyelashes any girl would kill for and those turquoise-green eyes you longed to see. He had a gorgeous mouth.

You lingered too long there, your eyes betraying your mind.

Vash smiled. "What are you doing?" He fiddled with your hair, wrapping a lock around his finger.

In response, you sighed. Clearly, you would never discover how to avoid getting caught red-handed every time. "Just enjoying the view," you said, still staring at his mouth. You reached and touched two fingers to his bottom lip only to feel a rush of memories.

Long nights. Early morning. His mouth on you. Everywhere. Over and over again.

07:15 am - July 21st

He laughed sheepishly at your response.

You brushed a strand of hair off his forehead. His hair had grown a little long. You stroked his cheeks and drew his head back toward you, pressing your lush mouth against his. It never took him long to part his lips. He kissed you back, holding your head steady with his prosthetic arm while his other embraced you tightly. You could feel him smiling against your lips.

He had your heart, and you loved him quite horribly, too. This fact always smacked you over the head so hard you felt dizzy. You should have been afraid and wanted to hide it, as he was the most wanted man on the planet, but love had made you bold and brave.

You pulled back and studied his kiss-inspiring lips. Your whole body was filled with a warmth you wanted to share with him because it was pure, and so was he. There was no way for you to find the right words to describe how you felt.

The morning light was shining through the windows at the perfect angle and time. His muscles were taut, bathed in gold.

"Can you lie back, Vash?" you asked, pushing his shoulder back toward the bed. Finally fluttering his eyes open, he lifted his head in your direction.

Oh.

God.

His eyes.

He blinked dark lashes, revealing a spectrum of sadness and beauty, unlike anything you'd seen before. The way a person could convey so much with a glance caught you off guard. He had an extraordinary amount of pain paired with even more extraordinary passion.

His face spread into a wide smile the moment he saw you. These smiles, they changed him, and moments like this killed you a little.

He had the kind of face that made you forget where you were, who you were, and what you might say or do. You held his face in your hands as you laid his head down on the pillow. A half-lidded gaze sat on his face as he leaned to your touch, and you kissed him. Slowly, this time. His eyes fell closed. His mouth responded to yours.

Your fingers moved to his neck, then to his hair, and your mouth followed them. Soft lips caressed his earlobes and nipped the tiny single hoop, hot breaths hitting his skin, surprising a giggle out of him.

His hands reached up to pull you closer, but you stopped him. "No," you whispered. "Don't move." Without a second thought, he dropped his hands.

"Lie back and keep your eyes closed," you muttered, and strangely, he didn't object. His obedience led to you kissing him everywhere. His cheeks. His eyelids. His chin. The tip of his nose and the space between his eyebrows. All across his forehead and along his jawline. Every inch of his face. Soft, small kisses that said more than you ever could. You wanted him to know how you felt. You wanted him to feel it in the way only he could, the way he could sense the depth of your emotions. You wanted him to know and never forget.

And you wanted to take your time.

As your mouth moved down his neck, he gasped. You peeked up at his features only to meet a crooked grin on his face. The moment was worth savoring. It seemed like Mr. Vash was enjoying himself, so your tongue continued to adore his arm's sculpted hills and valleys, the perfect shape of his torso.

You breathed in the scent of his skin and took in the taste of him as your hands ran down his abs, kissing your way across and down the line of his torso. You kissed around his navel, and the trails of fine hair underneath caressed your lips. He kept reaching for you, trying to touch you until you told him to stop.

"Please," he said, taking a deep breath. "I want to feel—"

Even though he couldn't see you, you raised your brows with a head tilt and gentled back his arms. "Not yet. Not now."

He let out a breath in protest and crossed his arms behind his neck until your hands went further down and his eyes flew open. Blinking at him, you found out you were still fascinated by his eyes—such a stunning shade of green. "Close your eyes, Vash," you had to tell him.

A big gulp of air filled up his Adam apple. "No." He hardly spoke.

"Close your eyes!"

With his sharp gaze following your every move, he shook his head and leaned on his elbows.

"Fine." You rolled your eyes, and your hand grabbed the base of his hardness.

As soon as your nails brushed the skin of his length, he sat up and stared at you. He was breathing so fast you could hear and see his chest moving.

With a smile, you looked him in the eyes and leaned your head down. Your mouth took in the tip, and your tongue traced circles as Vash gasped. The sight of your bent head made him bite his lip. No doubt every fiber of his being demanded you to take him fully in your mouth, but he wanted you to call the shots. Allowing you to control the pace pushed him to the edge. He enjoyed the thrill of knowing he was at your mercy.

Soft hairs of his thighs against your ears, your nose skimmed his sensitive areas, and your lips kissed all over those favorite parts. The smooth skin of your fingers rolled around was warm and delicate, so fragile you were afraid you might tear it with your teeth. You felt his hardness throb against your cheek, pleading with you not to neglect him. Your thumb rubbed the pre-cum off the pink tip as you raised your head.

You looked up at him, his hair gleaming like golden flames, his cheeks drenched with sweat, and his lower lip stuck between his teeth, and you realized that his eyes looked at you with a look of something like trepidation, as if he was nervous. His face was still flushed red, and he had an expression somewhere between unworthiness and pleasure. With every stroke, his breath grew heavier. Obviously, he wanted more but was trying to contain his desire. Did he feel he was getting something he didn't deserve again?

There was no way you could let him be alone with these thoughts. So, before his dazzled eyes, you licked your thumb and watched how blood drained from his head and rushed straight to his torso. In surrender, he fell back; his eyes squeezed shut. You closed your mouth to half his length, and he turned his face to the pillow, stifling a moan. A tremor ran through his body, and his hands gripped the sheets tightly. Your hands ran down his legs, grabbing them just above his knees and inching them apart so you could trail kisses down the insides of his thighs.

He looked like he was in so much pain. So much pain.

You licked the pain away.

Twirling your fingers around the length, you took the crown in your mouth. Only enough to tease. Too little to satisfy. Your lips gently pressed against it, and when Vash was ready to scream, you accepted his whole length in your mouth.

Your lips were sealed tight as you hummed and increased the speed of your ministration. He threaded his fingers through your hair and molded his hands into your head, not to push you further down but to tilt your face up.

His forehead and neck were dripping sweat. The lines of emotion on his face were so deep you wondered how you must look to him. His throat bobbed, and you felt yourself drown in his eyes, enigmatic yet expressive, like sea foam, tempestuous but very calm. His fingers trailed over your salivate-covered lips, and you noticed that the sadness in his eyes had receded.

The world was suddenly brighter, bigger, and more beautiful.

07:40 am - July 21st

Taking hold of you by the arm pits, Vash pulled you in until your chest touched his. Next, you were rolled over so that your back touched the mattress, and he crawled onto you. Now his arms were propped up on either side of your head so he would not crush you under his weight. Looking into his eyes, you were pinned in place. His urgency ignited your bones. The polished planes of his face glowed with rivulets of sweat. His hardness was poking desperately against your thigh.

"I want to … …, …," he whispered. Intoxicated, you couldn't digest anything except his body hovering over you.

"… ?" His body pressed closer, and you realized you were paying attention to nothing but the dandelions blowing wishes in your lungs.

His eyes were heavy now in a way that worried you, but his gaze was still so tender, focused, and full of emotions you could hardly bring yourself to say anything. As your words faded, they became an unspoken whisper. Your lips glued together.

Screams.

Death.

Screams.

Your heart suddenly raced. What if these moments were destined to expire?

The sound of a clock striking midnight. A pumpkin carriage. The possibility of losing him.

You didn't want your arms to be deprived of his warmth. His touch. His lips, God, his lips, his mouth on your neck, his body wrapped around yours. The nightmare had caused this all, you knew, but the realization was like a pendulum the size of the moon. It wouldn't stop slamming into you.

Blinking fast, you swallowed back the fear building in your throat. God! He was speaking with you, but you couldn't hear him.

You were worried, really worried something was going to happen to him. What if bounty hunters found him? Could his brother hurt him? No. No. No. Even though you were only a human, you would never allow such a thing to happen. You just couldn't. You...

"Hey," he said, his voice soft, so soft. His arms were stronger than all the bones in your body. He pulled your figure close. You heard the beats of his heart humming deeply within his chest, and the steel of his arm encircled your whole body, releasing tension from your limbs. The icicles in your body were melted by his heat. Something about this frame made you want to freeze it forever. "You okay, Firefly? Wanna stop?"

The words he said sent waves of emotion coursing through you. He could read you like an open palm. You weren't lost before you met him, but you were never found until he laid eyes on you. Your tears stung as they fell backward down your throat, burning as they went. "Kiss me, Vash," you said before closing your eyes.

He searched your face, unsure what to do, hesitating, until you felt his lips on your shoulder, tender and scorching, so gentle you could almost believe it was the kiss of breeze and not a man.

Again.

This time, it was on your collarbones and felt like an ache that needed to be soothed. You didn't want to do anything to stop his mouth from touching your body.

He pulled back.

Desire.

Crave.

Need.

Again.

Your eyes refused to open.

His finger grazed the corner of your mouth, tracing its shape, the curves, the seams, and the dips. You felt him so much closer, his body heat filling the air around you, along with his smell and something sweet, until nothing was left. Your senses were so engulfed in his scent you didn't even realize your back was arching toward him as you breathed him in until you found out his fingers were no longer on your lips because his hand had gotten around your body.

"So, where do you want me to kiss you?" Vash whispered, his chest heaving, his words almost gasping. A wave of blistering heat moved through you, sealed shut your mouth. You didn't specify precisely where you wanted him to kiss you, and he didn't seem to have any difficulty selecting the spot. 

He whispered your name as he kissed the corner of your eyebrow. "Here?" His lips brushed over the shell of your ear, and your body squirmed slightly. "Or here?" He pressed a kiss against your neck, right beneath your ear, and you tipped your head to let him in, biting down the urge to beg him to take more, to take faster, as he murmured, "tell me."

Clasping your warm fingers with his cold metallic ones, he hovered over you to kiss your throat. You were the oxygen he desperately needed to breathe. His body was almost on top of yours, one hand in your hair while the other held yours delicately yet firmly. His lips crushed yours in no time.

A kiss like this was like swimming in honey rivers, like being dipped in gold, like diving into an ocean of bliss and not realizing you were drowning because you were too caught up in the current to notice. Nothing mattered anymore—neither your nightmare, this room, or the whole fucking planet.

All that mattered was this.

This.

This moment. These lips. This strong body pressed against yours, and these firm hands that always found a way you bring you closer. Oh, My Gosh! You wanted so much more of him. You wanted all of him.

Your eyes opened up.

Not content to be passive, your hands ran down his back, dancing over his broad shoulders, pressing into his dimples, and squeezing his hips.

Your hand grabbed a fistful of his hair when he broke for air with a groan, but you pushed him back, kissing his neck, arm, collarbones, and chest. It was amazing. Being with him, touching him, holding him like this. The rush of adrenaline was so intense and euphoric that you felt invincible.

He muttered your name, his lips mouthing the letters, barely speaking. Your skin was scorched everywhere he hadn't touched you.

He kissed your top lip.

He licked your bottom lip.

He kissed just under your chin, the tip of your nose, the length of your forehead, both temples and cheeks across your jawline. Then your neck, behind your ears, the space between your breasts. He nibbled your nipples and left trails of kisses all the way down your belly button until his entire form moved down your figure, disappearing as he shifted downward, and suddenly his chest was hovering above your hips.

Grasping your calves, he spread your legs apart just enough for his head to fit between. Your thighs were lifted, and you couldn't see him anymore. His only visible features were the top of his head, the curve of his shoulders, and the unsteady rise and fall of his back as he breathed. Eventually, even that sight was lost, with your head falling backward and muffled moans leaving your mouth.

Vash ran his hands down and up around your bare upper thighs and ribs, and he held your hips to make you stand still. Your eyes lit up like small firecrackers every time his hair teased your groins until his lips kissed you there, and fireworks exploded in the back of your head.

As his right hand pressed against your stomach, his tongue played around to make you scream aloud. His mouth brushed against your skin in places you couldn't see but felt deeply. Oh my! You were out of your body, touching stars, when you realized he was working his way up your body, leaving two fingers of that prosthetic arm behind.

"It might feel a bit cold," he said as his nose glided the skin of your stomach, leaving random kisses around your breasts and collarbones just to ease your tension. "Tell me if it hurts, okay?" His hair was a mess, the wetness on his lips all familiar.

A nod came from you in response. He almost seemed to be smiling as his fingers slipped inside your slit, and your nails dug into the fabric. Moaning, you felt his warm hand brushing your hair backward as the other moved up and down inside your walls.

Your mouth was parted in a silent moan, and his small pecks covered you all around. There were tears in your eyes, baby hairs sticking to your sweaty forehead.

As his thumb and two fingers hit all the right spots, your throat wailed in frustration.

You grabbed his free arm, and he pulled himself up, onto you, on top of you. As if reading your thoughts, he kissed you hard. How strange, yet sweet, all you could taste was you, yourself, on his tongue. You moaned at the taste, and he opened his mouth more for you, allowing you to brush your tongue against his teeth.

The stinging coldness of his fingers was long gone. You had forgotten everything. There was something you shouldn't have forgotten, but you couldn't even remember why, what you were forgetting. Amid his length caressing your side and those digits thrusting backward and forward, paying attention to anything else was hard.

You could die from this, you decided. From wanting him, from the pleasure of being with him.

You must be smiling because he was looking at you and smiling too. His forehead was pressed against yours. His skin was flushed with heat. His hand had kept your head still. Your hands gripped his nick, sliding into the hollow behind it. You placed your palms just above his nape, and your fingertips gently began to squeeze and massage his undercut.

"Va-sh."

For a moment, you thought life poured out of you, or maybe your vision fractured as release barreled into you, and you grasped his name over and over again till your body calmed under his weight.

08:10 am- July 21st

Your eyes landed on his glistening wet metallic fingers, and you were dripping, burning, melting with anticipation. He was still on top of you when you thought you heard him speak, his mouth close to your ear.

"I love you," he whispered and kissed your brow. It never occurred to you that he could be like this, so human, so real, but it was there. It was right there. Raw, written across his face. You were about to mutter all the words and worries you held in your chest, but suddenly he stood up and stared blankly at the other side of the room.

You followed his gaze to the pane of glass separating you from the reality outside. You awaited his lips to part. You waited to listen to him speak. His eyes weren't revealing anything about what he was thinking, what was going on.

Something about the realization struck fear into your heart. In the span of a single instant, darkness surrounded your vision. Images appeared in the blur of your sight again.

The petals of red Geraniums floating in the sky, a boy running through blood-stained sands, the time speeding up and slowing down in fits and starts, streaks of green and red staining your dilated eyes, stars exploding, lights flashing, sparking, and then it's all darkness and Vash's screams.

You shook your head.

The images disappeared, but the heartaches and fears lingered, and you had to keep reminding yourself to breathe. Your lungs begged for air, but you looked around for Vash instead.

It seemed he wanted to scream, but you knew the words wouldn't leave his mouth. Those thoughts would expand in his head, explosive and angry, pressing against the ridges of his mind, and then he would hide them behind a smile. As he always did.

"Vash?" you called, just before witnessing how a car's radio sound from the street ripped open his past, pulled out what was left of his heart, and dropped it on the floor.

"… been two years since that fateful July 21st. A crowd has gathered at what used to be the third city of July to pay their respects. Even after two years, the pain of losing their loved ones has yet to heal. The suspect said to have murdered 90 percent of the city, also known as the Humanoid Typhoon, still remains at large. Vash the Stampede is on the run. If I were the demon who turned the whole city into a gaping crater overnight, I'd hide my face too. There is no forgetting the sorrow of loved ones taken from us. The Alliance of Cities has raised the dead or alive bounty on Vash the Stampede to $$60 billion, the highest in the history of…"

The loud words bounced around in the haze of your head, fogging your senses, misting your eyes, and clouding your concentration. In your bones, there was just ice. Your entire being wanted to vomit. Reality slapped you in the face, punched you in the jaw, and dumped you into sand oceans. You grasped the nightstand to keep yourself steady. The orange shades fell on the floor, leaving a big crack on display.

Vash was shaking his head over and over and over and over. He was looking at his hands like he would see some blood on them, as if waiting for the part where someone would tell him this wasn't real and he didn't actually kill those 200,000 innocent people.

Oh, my beloved.

The pain was so plain on his face; it was killing you. Your gaze was drawn to the balled fists at his sides, the furrows in his brow, and the tension in his jaw. Minutes ago, this man was free, but now he was a prisoner of his own crime. In your heart, you wished you could release him from the claws of self-reproach.

Having seen his terror too often, you knew it well.

Sometimes, even when he was asleep, his tormented mind would grip his heart, and such emptiness and sadness would fill him that you felt he was suffocating, as if his sleepless nightmares never had an end.

You didn't know him before,

but

you

thought

he

had

lost

a

bit

of

himself

on

the

day

of

July

incident.

As time passed, you assumed he had finally learned not to dwell on what had happened. You imagined he avoided it like a cripple learning not to put weight on his injured leg.

However, deep down, you knew he was living on eggshells, always wondering when something would break, when everything would crumble. You always dreaded this day. This silence. It was not just an ordinary silence caused by the lack of things that moved or made noise, but a deep and tired silence that sometimes covered him like an invisible cloak—like the one ruling between your shared walls right now.

Stacks of sorrow had grown inside him, settling on his bones and snapping him in half. A cable twisted around his neck, a worm crawling across his stomach. It was the night, midnight, and the twilight of indecision. Too many pains to bear.

How naive of him to think he could slip into the role of a regular being and live a normal life in love and peace.

Vash.

Vash the stampede with a dream.

The mere thought of it filled him with mortification. He began to think others were right when they said things like him were better off destroyed.

Shaking his head, he coughed against the torture in his lungs, heaving strange, horrible gasps until his whole body spasmed into submission, leaving him sitting on the bed's edge like a sack full of nothingness. The old gunman looked as if he might collapse, barely breathing, his life-force being torn asunder.

You felt like your throat was closing up. You knew the infamous humanoid typhoon was everything broken and glued back together, and now knives bore holes into his cracked bones, filled with grief that could take his breath away.

Your face was drained of color, your ears ringing with your heart pounding. His desperate screams from your nightmare echoed in your head as if on repeat. His agony was acute. His terror palpable. Tears sprung to your eyes. It was painful to look at him, being so close and far away from him.

"Local news. You know how dumb they are," you said, trying to hide your petrified and nerve-wracking thoughts from his reach. What if he never experienced peace? What if there was no sanctuary, and the pain was always a whisper away, no matter where he went?

Pressing your nails to your palm, you continued, "None of that incident was your fault. You know that too. You hear me?"

His eyes widened a little. No one had ever cared about him for this long. No one had kept him ever this closely to read his thoughts word by word. No one had ever treated him like a human being. Then again, he thought you didn't know about all of his sins. In a century and a half, he hadn't been able to forgive himself; how could you? It made him wonder how long you could endure him before running for your life.

His head was spinning, thoughts knocking into one another. He clenched his fists and pushed back down the misery that had stuck with him. Even though he didn't want this, you'd probably be better off without him.

"Vash?" You swallowed and dug your fingers into the sheets desperately, a tear trickling down your cheek. It kept hitting you in the face, in the skull, in the spine, this knowledge of just how much you loved him.

His lips looked like they were barely able to form words. He could only take these harsh gasps and wonder why his body hadn't given up.

On all fours, you approached him and sat on your knees on the edge of the bed with a slight distance between you and him. You knew he wouldn't object, but you didn't want to intrude on his privacy. Thus, you remained silent so that he wouldn't be left by himself, and he would know you wouldn't leave him alone.

09:15 am – July 21st

Time passed, and you checked on him occasionally to see if he wanted to talk until he raised his head slightly.

"I'm a demon," he said the sentence so quietly. So, so quietly. He ran a hand across his face, both hands through his hair, looking like he wanted to scream, to break something, like he was truly about to lose his mind. "The world sees me as a threat. An unfixable monster. An abomination. They want me dead." His voice sounded sorrowful, almost like he had already accepted these labels.

Thousand pieces of feeling stabbed you in the heart. "I don't think you're a demon. Also, I don't think you're some sick, twisted monster. I don't think you're a heartless killer, and I don't think you deserve to die. You're not a humanoid typhoon. No, you're not any of the things people have said about you," you told him, words tripping and stumbling out of you.

His mouth fell closed, struggling with some kind of emotion, struggling to find composure. Suddenly he gasped. "No." One broken word. Barely even a sound. He was shaking his head, looking away from you. He turned to face the window. "No. No, no—"

"Vash—"

"No," he said. His voice was so soft and so scared you could scarcely hear it. "No, you don't know what you're saying—"

"You're not a monster!" you said. "And I love you exactly as you are. I don't even want you to fix yourself; I don't think you need to be fixed. People here love you as you are. Your name is the only thing that scares them," you told him.

You knew people had the right to fear him. You knew. Humanoid Typhoon certainly wasn't made of sugar, spice, and everything nice, but rather from hurricanes, lightning, and all things that scared. Seeing dusty storms and raging winds, people thought he was scary. They feared he would harm them. In truth, he was only his own disaster, destroying himself for others. He was Vash. Your Vash. Vash the Stampede, and you loved him with all his fears and frights, dreams and nightmares, sins and scars.

You smiled and continued, "If they learn your name and start hunting you, we'll run away! We'll run, run, and keep running as far as we have to! And when things calm down, we'll settle by their side again. You won't kill. You'll never kill anyone again, and one day, people will begin seeing you as I do."

Maybe tears filled his eyes. Possibly his breath was trapped in his chest. Perhaps his heart warmed a little. No one knew, not even the author. He had his head down, his chest rising and falling.

You sat behind him. A map of pain had covered his entire back. Thick, thin, uneven, and terrible, scars like roads leading nowhere. There were bolts and ragged slices, marks of torture he was not protected from.

Kindness must be difficult when all you'd received was hatred. Being able to see goodness in the world must be so hard when your only experience had been terror. You wanted to say something to him. Something profound, complete, and memorable, but there was nothing suitable. This planet was a broken bone that didn't set right, and Vash wanted to glue it back together. Alone, all by himself.

You two differed in this respect. Fearless and unafraid were two different things. He was fearless. He dared to outshine the sun, stare down a bullet, kiss death and walk away with his back unguarded. He would hold the whole world in his palms despite its bone-crushing weight, despite its sharp edges crusted with blood, if only he could stop it from falling apart. But you? You were fearful. Sometimes you couldn't breathe around the clot of fear lodged in your throat. The only way to lessen its weight on your tongue was to scream until no words came out, while the only way to chase away its shadows was never to close your eyes at night. You were unafraid of one thing, though —he could tear down the world and bury you alive under the weight of his guilt, yet you would follow him without hesitation.

Your eyes rested upon woven strands of sunlight, alighting softly upon his scarred skin. These honeyed arcing rays gave him a light glimmer that revealed his plant patterns, pulsing slowly and dimly. Something about the scene was so divine, and you felt the dawn rise from your heart every morning and reach the sky.

You hugged him from behind by bridging the gap between your bodies and leaned your cheek against his sun-kissed back. Your hands gently caressed his stomach and chest as your lips left kisses on his love reminiscences—one by one.

You could hear him breathing in and out. Unevenly. Yet he was silent. Hands clenched, knuckles white. Of course, he wanted you with a desperate need he had never known. But his regret, sins, and crimes were so overwhelming they consumed him. He thought, how could you be so kind to a thing like him?

Unaware of the voices in his mind, you dropped a kiss on his spine. You kissed the curve of his shoulder. His shoulder blades. Five kisses down his spine, each softer than the other one. For every little moment of pain he had ever felt in his life, you wanted to make it all go away. You kissed his neck, trying to ignore the tension in his muscles, the ache spreading inside you, urging you to end his suffering.

Your words were heavy with sincerity when you said, "I don't care what everyone else thinks about you." You leaned your forehead to his shoulder, your breaths gently caressing his back. "Because you're the only good thing left in this world."

As his eyes widened, he breathed heavily, trying to gain control of himself. "What are you saying?" he asked, his hand caught in his hair. "How can you tell such a thing this after all this?" His hand pointed to the window, to the news on the radio.

Standing on your knees, you kissed the hand caught between his gold locks. The same hand he always tried to cover its scar with a glove. Because the idiot thought his scars would be repulsive. The idiot. Your favorite idiot.

You didn't sit back. Keeping your head there, your nose buried in his hair, and your chest pressed to his back—this smell. You had never seen a sea, but you had heard about them. And you believed if there was ever to be a sea in this hell hole, he would smell like a sunny beach. Sweet, enveloping, and warm.

"That is—" your voice broke when you spoke. "That's what the family is for, Vash."

A sudden searing heat flashed behind his eyes, and his heart leaped at your response. He dropped his hand on his knee and sat still in place by the weight of your words. His hand trembled, and his eyes were willing and wanting but filled with both sadness and happiness.

A family.

All this time, he thought you were with him all along because you didn't have a grasp on his sins, but now, he could see that you already knew everything. And despite all of this, you were still willing to forgive him and give him something he always wanted but never had without even requiring him to earn it or redeem himself.

You touched his arm and traced the tender skin with your fingertips. Scars everywhere. You kissed the back of his elbow. "I'm sorry for everything humans have done to you," you told him, and he took a shallow breath. "Forgive us." Another kiss. "Forgive me."

A delicate warmth filled Vash's heart and melted it into drops of warm honey that soothed the scars in his soul. He turned his head and stared at you with open, vulnerable eyes, a tight jaw, and tensed muscles. No one had ever apologized to him. According to his experience, he was usually the monster, the wicked one. The onus always was on him to make amends.

It stunned him how strange it felt. Up until now, he never thought he deserved forgiveness, let alone someone asking for it.

Running a tired hand across his face, he wasn't sure what to do with himself. A joy filled his heart, causing him to feel heavy with something he wasn't even sure he could describe.

Gratitude, perhaps.

The ache in his chest had grown more assertive, more painful. But for now, he didn't want to think about it. He simply just wanted to enjoy your proximity.

Your hand reached up to stroke the luminous curved shapes on his cheek, tracing them to the softness of the mole beneath his left eye. The look in those aquamarines breaking your heart. You couldn't bear to see his face covered in sorrow and guilt.

"You're a good man, my Vash," you said, your words soft, your hand gentle as you tilted his chin up toward your mouth. He was blinking fast, yet not denying. You whispered words on his lips that no one had ever spelled out for him. "Rem would've been proud of you," you told him, watching the movement in his throat and his effort to keep it together. It didn't take you long to kiss him once, tenderly.

He found himself at a loss for words, opting to convey his emotions through touch instead as he melded his lips with yours. He sighed into your mouth, and you kissed him even more deeply, almost desperately, as if trying to pass over your breaths to him. You could taste the salt on your tongue. The wet drops falling on your cheeks made your flesh burn. You were uncertain whose they were as you continued to try and cling to him.

10:00 am – July 21st

The sheets slowly slipped and fell to the floor as Vash pulled you into his arms, clutching you tight, hardly able to breathe. When he exhaled and looked at you again, there were stories in his eyes, thoughts, whispers, and feelings of things you had never seen before. His whole body seemed to be relaxed in relief. He looked like he was hanging on his sanity by a single, fraying thread. You.

And you promised yourself, at this moment, that you would hold him forever, just like this, until all the pain, the torture, and the suffering was gone, until he'd given a chance to live the kind of life where no one could ever hurt him this deeply ever again.

He touched your cheek. Soft, as if he wasn't sure if you were real. His four fingers caressed the side of your face gently before they slipped behind your neck, caught in that in-between spot below your ear, and his thumb brushed the apple of your cheek, then grazing your bottom lip.

You did so much with these lips, you thought. Touched, kissed, and pressed them against tender parts of his skin. You made promises, and the words they formed, the shapes and sounds they curved around, all for him.

Vash moved closer by just an inch. His free metallic hand cupped the other side of your face. He was holding you like you were made of crystals. Holding you and looking at his own hands, he couldn't believe you were real.

Gone was the man with guns and bullets. These hands treasuring you had never held a weapon. They were perfect and kind, never touched by death. He took your hands and pressed your palms to his face. Tears must have welled up in your eyes when you closed them.

You whispered his name, and he breathed harder than you.

Could this be a dream?

You shook, shuddered, splintered into teardrops, and he held you like no one had before. He wanted you. Seeing him cling to you as he might never let go did something to you, something heady, knowing that he might wish you, or need you, like this, made you want to protect him even though he didn't need your protection.

Gently, he stroked your hair and pressed his lips to your forehead. Gradually, his arms became the arms around your waist; his lips became the lips pressed against yours, his body the warmth you felt.

You weren't even breathing, but you were alive, and he was kissing you. Deeply, desperately. The palms of his hands were rubbing the small of your back as he lifted you into his lap. Your legs automatically wrapped around his hips, allowing him to kiss your neck, throat, and nipples.

You broke apart with his small licks here and there, breathing hard, and stared at him like a bonehead, your brain still too numb to figure out exactly how you two got here.

Tilting his head to a side, he pressed his lips against yours again, seeking you with a burning need, a new kind of desperation. His hands were threaded in your hair, his lips so soft, so urgent against yours, like fire and cinnamon exploding in your mouth.

Vash nibbled your bottom lip in a flash and pulled back just a little bit. Your body was flooded with heat and desire so intense you could hardly think when he parted his lips from you to sigh in your mouth, and that slight sound of pleasure drove you crazy.

Putting one hand under your neck, placing his mouth on your breast, and running his fingers down your back, he pressed your body closer, only to find something hard pressing against your groin.

Oh.

Well.

While he avoided your gaze, he smiled sheepishly and tentatively touched your thighs with his hands. Because of what had happened, you knew he would probably feel embarrassed to ask for it, but that didn't mean you wouldn't give it to him. He deserved the whole world if you had the chance to provide for him. His markings were glowing softly when you squeezed him closer to yourself, holding him tighter.

Biting his lip and stifling his groan, his smart-ass hands slid up your legs and into your thighs. Soon, his lips reached your chest. Your body ached everywhere, tasting colors and sounds you didn't even know existed. His forehead was pressed against your chin, and your hands gripped his shoulders. He was hot, gentle, and somehow in a hurry.

You were beyond the reach of rational thoughts. Beyond words, beyond comprehension. The world was beyond understanding because nothing could ever compare with this. Nothing could ever capture the way you were feeling right now. Nothing mattered anymore. You were left with only this moment: his mouth on your body, his hands on your skin, and his lust deep in his eyes, making you absolutely insane.

Your wetness was no longer a secret when he surrounded you everywhere. As he watched you, you reached down and adjusted his length against your slippery entrance over a few strokes. His pulse could be felt in your palm and soon inside of you.

Using both soft and hard hands, he gently grasped your hips and pulled you down toward him. As he entered, you gasped, every time surprised at his size, clinging desperately to his neck as he hitched your legs around his waist, his prosthetic arm settling beneath your thigh. You loved the feeling of him stretching you. You loved having him this close to you. You loved the way he manhandled you. You loved his hand around your neck and the little squeeze of his fingers around your nape.

His grip tightened when he sensed you were ready for him, and he started moving you up and down. You cried out and leaned your cheek to his nose, dying and somehow being brought back to life in the same moment, in the same breath.

Fuck! You were full of him.

He lifted your thighs, and you bit back the moan stuck in your throat. His mouth wouldn't let go of your skin, kissing you with an intensity that made you wonder why you hadn't died, caught on fire, or woken up from this dream yet. Then he returned his hands to your face and kissed you once, twice.

The room's silence was filled with your heavy breathing, your chest against Vash's. Your pulses hammered against each other. You felt his arms around you become unbearably tight as he yanked you up and down with even more force than before, hitting you in a place he seemed to know too well.

As his teeth caught your bottom lip momentarily, you pushed your nails to his shoulder, running your fingers through his hair to pull him into your mouth. He tasted so sweet. So hot and sweet. You kept trying to say his name, but you couldn't even breathe, much less say a single word.

The pace increased slightly; each thrust was hard, deliberate, wringing gasps, whimpers, and long, rolling moans from you.

Your eyes tingled with tears, falling fast down, traveling quietly down your cheeks, and he cupped your face in his hands, his thumbs two parentheses in your mouth, against your tongue and saliva. As if he had found Adam's ale between million mirages of the desert, he stared at you, his eyes like fire in the water.

"I love you," he whispered over and over, his voice fragile, uneven. His lips covered yours in a tender kiss. He kissed you and tasted your tears, the lingering flavor of pleasure laced in your mouth. He kissed you and kissed you until time toppled over, and your head spun into oblivion.

Vash loved you…

His temple was leaned against yours when you took his earlobe between your teeth, stripped him to his bones, and ruined him from the inside out. Your sweet little tongue was frantic when you whispered, "I'm yours to love."

Hearing your words, he held still for moments, sucking in the air because he felt almost dizzy with satisfaction, running his hands over your thighs.

You. You were his. You, the one who knew if you left him alone at that moment, would fall into the depths of his own hell; if he'd slipped through your fingers, he would be gone, and no one could bring him back. You did not erase all his pain or offer to solve all his problems. You didn't fix everything that was broken, but that wasn't what he needed anyway. What mattered the most was that you stayed.

He loved you.

He loved you so much.

Grasping your soft hips, he buried his face against your shoulder and sped up. You were his undoing, taking him apart and putting him back together differently, better, and more himself than he ever could have been. He gritted his teeth as his orgasm came barreling at him. His hands glided on your back when you shuddered, your inner walls squeezing him so hard he couldn't prevent his release. With a growl, he thrust wildly, once, twice—and then everything around you both disappeared until it was all just colors and light, the sun shines and oceans, apple trees, and blossoms.

Your eyes were still closed, and you felt his hands laced with yours, just to remind you that you had him here and that he was with you. Your partner in everything. His chest heaving, he buried his face in your neck, sweat covering his temples. Kissing him there, you inhaled the scent of his hair.

"You're my family too," you heard him whisper, his words etched into your soul as his lips moved against your skin. And you wished, more than ever, that you could capture moments like this and relive them forever.

12:50 pm – July 21st

You woke up with a smile, your skin still hot from the memory of your vile. You were cleaned with a wet towel, placed in bed with a kiss, and promptly fell asleep. Thankfully, no nightmares this time.

What time was it? You didn't know.

As you stretched your legs under the sheets, you realized your back was against Vash, his prosthetic arm resting on your pillow, the other tucked around your waist. Knowing he had held you this close warmed the pit of your stomach and made you feel so safe that you didn't ever want to move, but you had a thousand things to do today, but you never, ever wanted to move.

Truth be told, you loved these moments the most. The quiet contentment. Being enveloped by his naked body. You never felt closer to him than you did like this when there was nothing between you.

Today was a big day delayed by your nightmare and the sound of that stupid radio! There was no way you were going to let anything overshadow his birthday anymore. Even for a few hours, he deserved this celebration, this little distraction. He deserved to be happy, eat, and laugh.

You sighed, hating to wake him up since he seemed pretty tired. Slowly, you turned around in his arms. A smile tugged at your mouth as you watched him, amazed at how his presence could bring you such peace. He shifted again, burrowing deeper into the pillows, and you realized he must be exhausted.

Watching the movement of his throat, you breathed him in, running your hands along the deep, strong lines of muscle in his arm. His entire being felt raw. Powerful. Being a plant had something wild and terrifying about it; somehow, this knowledge only made you love him more. You traced the contours of his shoulder blades, then his spine. He stirred, but only briefly, and buried his face in your hair.

"Don't go," he whispered softly, pressing his nose to your scalp alongside his lips.

You tilted your head, gently kissing the column of his throat. "Vash," you whispered. "I'm not going anywhere."

Taking a deep breath, he said, "good."

You smiled. "Oh, but we should probably get out of bed. I promised Rosalina I'll help—"

A disapproving sound escaped his throat as he shook his head, deftly helping you turn around. He hugged you close again, your back pressed against his chest. Soft and husky, his voice was full of desire when he said, "C'mon, let me enjoy this. Feeling good."

"You don't want a cake?" you blurted out, but it certainly caught his attention.

You could feel he raised his head, stiffened and confused. "How come Rosalina's making me a cake?"

Did you hear correctly? Had he forgotten about his birthday? Did this day become neglected to the point where it was forgotten?

Turning around, you saw he was sitting, his body frozen and his heart probably pounding furiously. Getting him to attend his birthday would take more effort than you expected. Because he asked how you could possibly plan a party for him, why anyone would throw him a party, what if he didn't even like birthday parties, and so on. Still, you didn't fall short. Since the day he told you about Rem making them a cake for their birthday, you kept track of his birthday. The July incident wasn't going to overshadow his birthday. It was your vow to replace that memory with better ones. That forever and ever, you'd strive to drown out the darkness that had ruined his life.

In his eyes, tragedy and beauty could be seen, a stoicism that wouldn't be shaken, and childlike joy that couldn't help but flow. When he swallowed, you noticed the gentle movement in his throat and moved your hand to his ear, your pinkie touching his earring, then tracing down his jawline. You didn't receive a rejection, but you didn't receive a yes, either. Why wasn't he saying anything? He had you on your worried until he clasped his hands over his face.

Your hand brushed against his undercut as you gently kissed his temple and tried to pry his hands away from his face. "Vash?" you said, your words hardly a whisper. "Is everything alright?"

The reply took him a few seconds to come out, but when he finally did, he nodded. It was only once, but it was enough. "Yeah," he said softly. "I'm okay."

The feeling of relaxation washed over you as you exhaled. "If you don't want a—"

He held and squeezed your hand as he looked at you, his eyes round when he said, a little nervously, "what have I done," he whispered, his voice trembling, "to deserve you?"

Did you die of joy? Because he took your face in his hands and kissed you so passionately, it blew your mind. Your heart began to beat violently, and you didn't recognize yourself. You didn't recognize your hands, your bones, your heart. You felt new. "Thank you," he whispered. "For loving me and everything."

"It's very, very easy to love you, Vash," your lips might have said, but the words never left your lips. You didn't know what to do, so you reeled him in, kissed him, and lost yourself in his taste and feel, in the fantasy of what you might have. What you might be.

But wait! Didn't you know fate was a jealous, vicious mistress that never ever slept?

You blinked.

You blinked again, but this time for too long. You saw a flash of blood spewing inside your open mouth. Nausea returned with a swiftness that scared you. A breath was drawn, your fingers fluttering as you desperately tried pressing them against your stomach. Pain filled your eyes as you kept them open. Clenching your fists, you attempted to control spiraling thoughts.

However, nothing helped. Nothing helped. Nothing, you thought. Nothing, nothing, and nothing.

Where was Vash? Where were you?

Throughout your open eyes, terror oozed from your heart. You heard someone calling your name. A hand brushed lightly along your spine as you shivered suddenly at the unexpected sensation.

" …," the voice said, "do you … ?"

The warmth moved in only to meet the coldness of your skin. You felt it all. Again and again, a touch of his finger did pull you out of your nightmare.

A rustle of sheets caught your attention, and Vash pulled you onto his lap. Straddling him, your legs stretched across the rumpled fabric. Wrapping his arm around you, he spread his hand along your back.

It was just a dream. It was just a dream. It was just a dream.

Turning carefully in the cradle of his arms, you pressed your forehead to his bare chest, your eyelashes fluttering against his rough gash.

"You okay?" he asked, his metallic fingers combing through your hair in a soothing act.

"Yes," you replied, forcing air into your lungs. You were breathing hard, head spinning as you held on to him. "Yes."

"Is something wrong, Elay?" He probably had lowered his head because his breath was touching your shoulder.

"Nothing," you claimed. Your heart was beating fast, too fast. You didn't know why you were lying. You should have just told him, but you didn't know why you weren't.

Wait.

Actually, you knew.

You were waiting.

You were waiting to see if this shit would pass. It had to, because today was a special day. Because you were already exhausted, and the radio's sound was repeating in your ears. Because you didn't want to add another burden to his shoulders with your silly nightmare. Even more, it wasn't real. Just a figment of your imagination, and saying it out loud would make it sound more real than it really was.

Vash asked no further questions. He was more of an "if you love someone, let them keep their secrets to themselves " guy. He pulled you close, and you melted into him, grateful for his warmth and steady hold. You took a deep, shuddering breath and let it all go, exhaling against him. A faint aroma of caramel lingered in your nostrils as you breathed in his skin's rich, heady scent. The minutes passed silently as you both listened to each other breathe.

01:45 pm – July 21st

It took a while, but your heart rate steadied.

You could feel it.

Here.

This.

Your bones against his bones. This was your home.

"What're you thinking?" His lips touched your neck, a graze that sparked, hot and cold, right down to your toes.

"Been thinking about you." You raised your head and looked at him. He was smiling, the unfaltering sun glinting in his eyes. You could see his fear, hopes, and love for you like a mirror to his soul in those mountain lake-colored spheres. Then there was something else as well—something like bliss. It was a faint glow, but it was there and made you so happy. You had blessed the blessing. He deserved happiness after everything he had been through. After all the horrors he had suffered alone.

"Me?"

As you closed the gap between you two again, you nodded against his chest. Nothing was said, but you could hear his heart racing until he exhaled. It was a heavy, uneven sound, as if he might have been holding his breath for too long.

Gently, you ran your hand along his back. "How long has it been since you celebrated your birthday?" you whispered.

"Hm?" He buried his face in your hair, and his nose glided over your scalp in what appeared to be caressing movements.

It didn't take a genius to figure out when he was ducking a question. You wiggled a little to loosen his grip and looked up. Your fingers ran through the soft, silky strands. The sight of him mesmerized you. His eyes were wide and bright. His lips soft and pale. He was perfect, bare, and beautiful, holding you in his arms. Sighing, you closed your eyes. "Let me ask it this way then," you said, "How many birthdays have you missed so far?"

Nothing came out of his mouth for what seemed like an eternity. You felt him finally move. In a gentle caress, his prosthetic fingers touched your face. "150 birthdays," he whispered, his voice uneven.

Your spine tingled involuntarily. 150 years of solitude. Loneliness. Alone with himself. On this giant planet. Where was his home? Where were his friends? His lovers?

You knew he was so much better at being alone as if being alone came more naturally. He led a life of deliberate seclusion, and when occasional loneliness crept in, he knew how to sink in and absorb its particular comforts or work his way out. After all, there were always bars and saloons and strangers around.

You knew he wanted to carry the weight of life all alone, even the burden of those he once loved. It wasn't fair, though. You had to be allowed to help him carry it all. A frown formed on your face, and you inhaled, "Happy birthday #1! Happy birthday #2! Happy birthday #3!..."

His metallic forefinger stopped your lips. Slowly, you looked up to meet his eyes. His expression was sad, sweet, and filled with love. You felt something thawed inside of you as you stared at him.

"You don't have to do this," he said as he separated his finger from your lips to brush away stray strands of hair from your face. A part of you wished his finger could stay there longer.

"Shut up and let yourself celebrate! We've got at least 150 birthdays to catch up on!"

He kissed your eye, and you felt his smile on your eyelid. His lips started moving tardily when he said, "I don't—"

"Shhhh! Since you interrupted me, I'm starting over!" you snapped and continued, "Happy birthday #1! Happy birthday #2! …"

The smile on his face grew bigger and bigger, as if he was filled with so much joy that he hardly recognized himself. You couldn't recall the last time he smiled this much. It was the most pure, unburdened bliss you had ever experienced.

He held you the entire time you felicitated all his forgotten birthdays. You could see it in how he looked at you. You could feel his fears disappearing and his emotions becoming something else. Now, his touch was hot and electric against your skin. Your heart was beating faster and harder, and he didn't have to say anything. You could feel the temperature change between you.

"You," he said, staring at your mouth. He touched his nose to yours, and something inside you jolted to life. You heard your breath caught, your ears turning red, unbidden. "I love you," he whispered.

The words did something to you every time you heard them. They built something new inside of you. You swallowed hard. A fire consumed your mind. "You know," you mumbled shyly, "It never gets old hearing you say that."

Leaning you back a little, he moved, his nose brushed the line of your jaw, and his lips touched your throat. You were holding your breath, terrified to move, to leave this moment.

"I love you," he said again.

Heat filled your veins. You could feel him in your blood, his whispers overwhelming your senses.

"Vash," you said. You wanted to talk to him about what happened hours ago. You knew you should've moved and snapped out of this but couldn't. You couldn't think. And then his hand brushed against your breasts. You breathed quickly, fighting against a sudden rush of pleasure.

It was impossible to pretend anything when he was this close to you. You knew he could feel how badly you wanted him. You could feel him, too. His heat. His desire. He made no secret of what he wanted from you. What he wanted you to do to him.

He kissed you softly, wrapping his arms around you, one too cold, the other too hot. Your body shifted forward in his embrace as you took another painful, agonizing breath.

"I know you're worried," he said, his lips too close to yours and his hot breath in your mouth. "I know we have to talk, but—" He never finished that sentence. He kissed you as he reached down, trailing his fingers along the inner parts of your thighs, and the movement seared through you. Your vision went white. You heard nothing but the pounding of your heart, then you remembered.

"Vash? Um-I have to-ah," you panted, "she is waiting."

You could feel his smile as he whispered the word in your ear. His fingers were teasing your groins. "Please." And you were gone.

One hand kept your head steady, the other roamed around your loins, and he kissed and melted you. Your eyes met his, and the feeling threatened to drown you. He kissed you, and every thought and worry wicked away, replaced by the feel of his mouth against your skin, his hand claiming your body.

Holy Molly!

He eft his kisses everywhere like he knew, like he knew how desperately you needed this, needed him, needed this comfort and release.

Like he needed it, too.

Taking hold of his neck, you raised yourself up to kiss his nose, cheeks, and lips. The line of your bodies was welded together. You felt yourself dissolving, becoming pure emotion as he parted his lips, teased you, and breathed into your mouth. "I love you," he said, gasping the words.

He kissed the top of your shoulder, and his artificial hand wandered over your body, down your back, cupping your back side, lingering on your upper thighs like he wanted to memorize the shape of you, always leaving you in awe of how gentle he was. Your muscles tightened with longing, and you were surprised at how much you wanted him.

Again.

So soon.

However, you had to stop this.

"I'd better get dressed," you said, pulling yourself back, grabbing sheets, and covering yourself with them. "I've got stuff to do."

A grin spread across his face as he watched you as if he could sense your frustration. You crawled from his lap, the bedsheets catching under your knees and making you lose your composure. Like a sneaky fox, he couldn't resist taking advantage of the moment. He yanked the rest of the sheet away from you and tucked you underneath him. His weight pinned you to the mattress, a knee intentionally jammed between your legs and slowly grinding you down.

"Here's what I want for my birthday," he said, kissing your parted lips. He knew what he was doing and knew you couldn't comprehend his words. "I have this idea. Just hear me out; I think that maybe you should consider being naked all the time. I mean, just always. Okay?"

"Okay. I have to—" What were you saying? He had his mouth all over you, sucking at your breasts, licking your throat, his fingers going straight to your sensitive spots.

The moment he got there, you knew you wouldn't let him go, even if he wanted to. So, you needed to gather your wits and act before it was too late.

Think. Think. Think.

"Vash!" you gasped, pushing him up with your hand as much as possible. "I know you're going nuts like a hunk in heat," you said, holding his cheeks between your hands and staring at his big downturned eyes. "I gotta shower and go to the saloon so you can meet me there at eight, okay, good boy?" You tapped on his shoulder.

With raised eyebrows, Vash got off you, but you remained trapped between his knees. Although he crossed his arms and pretended to be mad, you could see him fighting back a smile. It was amazing how that poor piece of sheet managed to cover his hips; otherwise, you wouldn't have been able to focus on his face.

"You were going to take a shower without me?" he said sternly.

You couldn't figure out what to say for a moment and then carefully asked, "would you like to join me?"

Considering your offer, he gazed at you, up and down, with a sweet, secret smile. The look in his eyes was enough to persuade you to agree to anything. You would do anything for this man if he asked. Even if he didn't bother to ask.

"Vash."

Your heart was heavy as you whispered his name, filled with emotion. You went still as he hovered over you, gently mouthing your nipples. His kisses grow more intent, leaving a trail of fire across your chest, down your torso, and rushing through your veins.

Suddenly, you forgot why you were even in such a hurry.

Your hands slipped around his neck, and you reeled him in. He felt incredible against you, his body fitting perfectly. You tilted his face up, your hand caught somewhere behind his neck and the base of his jaw, and you kissed him softly and slowly, heat filling your blood with dangerous speed.

As one hand held him steady, the other skimmed the smooth skin of your waist, gripping your hip hard. He parted your legs with his thigh, hearing you make a desperate sound deep in your throat, and it did something to him, to feel and hear you like that, to be assaulted by your pleasure and desire. It drove him crazy.

Vash buried his face in your neck, and his hand moved up to feel your breasts' tender skin, hot, soft, and sensitive to his touch. He wanted your body under his hands, the scent of your skin, and the light whisper of your hair against his. Licking your earlobes, he tried to ignore the strain in his muscles and the hard, desperate pressure driving him towards you, toward madness.

An ache was expanding inside you and demanding more, craving him to flip you over and lose yourself in you. You clung to him, your eyes half-lidded, your face flushed. Your breathes were heavy when you said, "take me, Vash."

His eyes widened, and he stared at you like he might be going deaf and blind at the same time, hunching over from the effort of inhaling and exhaling. He said nothing and only looked at you carefully from the top, drinking you in. His pulse was wild, his mind racing. There was no way he could refuse you.

02:50 pm - July 21st

Vash stepped aside, and you pushed the sheets away when he asked you to get up. Soon you were standing in the middle of the room as he had demanded.

He couldn't look away from you and probably couldn't even hear himself think over his heart beating fast like a thud against his skull. Pinning you against the closest wall, he kissed you wild enough for you never to forget why he was called the stampede. His fingers touched every everywhere. Every bend and arc. Every pit and hole. Leaving gentle slaps and smacks on the soft skin of yours.

It was lovely to feel your soft curves against his rough edges, and somehow, the paradox between the smoothness of your bodies pressed against each other made the scene even more surreal. In order not to miss any precious time, he picked you up, and you gasped, shocked, and scrambled to hold on for dear life. He pushed the bathroom door aside with his shoulder and carried you into the shower.

He needed you. Needed this. Now. You could see it in his eyes, in the upward arch of his erection.

He drew a deep, unsteady breath before switching the tap on.

A short scream tore through your throat.

You two got soaked in cold water as he pressed your front against the shower wall, losing himself in you like never before. His kisses were more profound, more desperate, and his hands less considerate than before. The heat more explosive, and everything between you wild, raw, and vulnerable. His mouth devoured you. He had his lips all over your body, his tongue tasting new places.

With the cold tiles touching your breasts, a sensation of pleasure spread throughout your entire body. You could feel it, the bottom half of your body urging you to press against him more deeply and fully. He had to hear the pleas of every cell in your body because his next thrust was so intense that you had to hold on to the wall with your palms to steady yourself while your cheeks pressed more and more against the cold ceramic as he had his way with you.

You lost track of time.

You had no idea how long you had been here. You didn't know how long he had gone haywire in you. Your knees were starting to shake when he turned you around, and your eyes fell on his soaked hair sticking to his forehead and clumping eyelashes blinking slowly. You considered yourself lucky for not only seeing such a marvel but also tasting him and feeling him.

With such hunger, he kissed your lips like he hadn't had them in years. You felt the hard tiles press against your back as he pushed himself inside, without hesitating to move up and down. Over and over again, you were lauded, his panting echoing within four walls.

So many times that you wanted to open your mouth to protest, but every time he took one turgid nipple into his mouth. Heat surged through your blood as his teeth scraped over the end of one, and you moaned instead of complaining. You couldn't stop thinking about how good it felt to feel him inside you, his tongue twirling around your other breast.

The pressure was built. You were consumed by the need to reach the climax in every action. Your stomach muscles were tightening and quivering.

He moved his hands from your hips to your head, tangles of wet hair wrapping around his fingers as he pulled you upwards for a kiss. His tongue immediately thrust past your lips, and he increased his speed.

God! Nothing had ever tasted as good as Vash, you thought. Sensual, decadent, the flavor of him slipped through you.

His hands clenched tighter in your hair, and his teeth bit the flesh of your neck, but you barely noticed, barely caring about the hickey it would leave as he threw back his head, groaning your name. The sight of him in the throes of his peak drove you to the edge, your inner muscles clamping around his hardness, pulling him in deeper.

You cried out, clutching his shoulders so tightly that your fingernails dug into his skin, and your screams were muffled against his chest. The plunk of shower water running between your feet could be heard as your body shook, and he leaned his forehead against your head.

His hot released load was dripping and sliding down on your thighs when you collapsed into his arms, feeling weak and unsteady. He held you close to himself, tight yet so gentle, stroking your wet hair with his fingers and leaving small pecks wherever he could reach. "We should eat something," he said, kissing the curve of your shoulder and the sides of your neck.

You were intoxicated by the pure, stunning power of his emotions, endless waves of love and desire, love and kindness, love and joy, love and tenderness.

So much tenderness.

You pressed your cheek against his chest and held him as he braced himself against the wall. Your bodies were wet and heavy with feeling, your hearts pounding with something more powerful than you had ever imagined possible.

Water was dripping from the mess of his hair. So gorgeous, you thought. Then you forgot where you were and what you were going to do. Your arms and limbs trembled slightly, and he was too terrified to let you go.

Too in love to let you go.

07:15 pm - July 21st

As night fell, the blue haze of the day lifted and revealed the stars brightening the sky, shining like beams of happiness, appearing still as an old photograph. The wind blew Vash's hair into a tousled bun.

He walked out of his favorite shop and leaned against the wall with a big bag of donuts and an even bigger smile. Yeah, he perfectly knew he would eat cake, but eating donuts had nothing to do with it: a warm-up, just appetizers.

His eyes followed the long shadows of townies milling around under the flickering lamppost lights, even though he couldn't make out any faces from such afar. He liked this town. It was so small that his typhoon hadn't yet found it. Or maybe because he was a stranger here. Nobody knew him, and everybody was safe from the curse his name carried around.

Everybody but you.

You already had been spelled by those fifteen letters.

V-A-S-H-T-H-E-S-T-A-M-P-E-D-E

Taking a look around, he tried to find a clock on a building or something. The birthday boy didn't want to be late. This and, of course, the words you uttered before you left the house:

"Eight o'clock, Vash. Don't forget! Don't be late! Don't be early and wear that white shirt. See you there!"

He sighed and took a donut from the bag, careful not to stain his white shirt with his clumsiness. It smelled great. What a heavenly aroma, smelling like honey. This and you and this town. It sure felt good to see happy people around.

Without further ado, he took a bite of his sugar-coated donut.

He expected it to taste incredible and super tasty, like being alive, but he couldn't feel it. There was a sense of numbness in him. The weight of an unknown worry was heavy against his heart.

A muffled whistle-like sound echoed in the distance, followed by several. Another shot rang out, this time sounding like it was meant. Suffocating silence, creaking doors, and screams that tore the sky open.

He felt strangely dull, as if his connection with his body had been cut off. The bag fell to the ground, and the donuts scattered around. People were crying, weeping, but all he could hear was the wind's wails in his ears, slapping sharply against his face.

He took uncertain steps forward. The area outside the saloon looked like more than a graveyard. It was worse than he had expected. There were injured people everywhere; some collapsed on the ground.

From where he stood, he counted two men, one woman, and a child dead. Open eyes, mouths agape, fresh blood still dripping down limp bodies. Where were you? Something about that realization struck fear into his veins.

The horrifying possibilities flashed through his mind. His mind was blank as to what had happened. Were you okay?

Vash looked over the crowd, still staring, waiting for you to show up. Waiting for you to find him. But you weren't anywhere to be found. In the chaos, he ran from one to another, people scattered around, and he didn't see you. The terror of this moment kicked him in the gut.

So many thoughts were tangled in his head that he couldn't untie the insanity. He glanced back at the doors you were supposed to come out, opening it with a smile.

He waited. He waited longer than was reasonable. Then he called you. Quietly at first, then louder. He shouted your name. His chest was being torn apart by fear, squeezing his heart. A part of him was afraid to speak the words aloud, fearful of making them true.

His legs felt like they had been formed from fresh clay, like he was moving through a fog. His voice reached everyone, pleading this time, running forward until the doors were in his line of sight.

"Is she in?" he asked, but no one answered. Everybody was frozen by the agony of the moment. All that could be heard were silent weeps and the wind howling.

Vash gulped, his throat all dry, and walked in; his lips parted, his eyes wide and horrified. The blood in his veins all ice.

Pain.

It began at his feet, bloomed up his legs, unfurled in his stomach, and worked its way up to his throat, only to explode behind his eyes. The sudden scream ripped itself from his lungs. It wrenched free from his chest without warning, without permission, and it was a scream so loud, so hard and violent, it broke his back. His hands were pressed against his knees, his head half bent.

Echoes of his misery would never be lost in the wind or carried away by the clouds but would always live between these walls. Forever.

His voice was unfamiliar to him. The horror, shock, and dread that flooded his body was something he had never felt — never known before, not like this.

The popped balloons on the walls. A half-ruined cake on the counter. Blood-stained confetti all around. A shoeless foot lying on the floor. Locks of tousled hair slipped from the makeshift shroud.

The numbness was now merciful, at least for a few moments. Then, everything crashed.

Vash fell next to the body. The knowledge rushed up in him, choking off his breath. Another scream tore its way out. Then another, and another. It felt as if his very essence had been ripped from him.

He pulled you into his arms, clutching you tightly, barely able to breathe. His fingers seized your hair and yanked it from your face. The golden strands of his hair fell onto your bloody face. You were called over and over, but it didn't seem like anything more than a sound. His pleas were like commands, begging you to open your eyes, but you ignored them as if playing a nasty prank.

Vash held both of your hands in his. There was no touch. All he felt was an empty coldness. The silence grew even louder, consuming him like a pitch-black shadow. Biting his lip, he tasted a faint metallic taste on his tongue. The desperation in his expression, the grief carved into his features, the way he looked at you as if he were about to pass the gates of hell and utter his last farewell.

Suddenly, he wanted to laugh one of those strange, high-pitched, delusional laughs that marked the end of sanity. Because this world, he thought, had a terrible sense of humor. It always seemed to mock him, making his life more miserable and ruining his dreams by destroying everything he ever loved.

You were dead. This pain was truly real.

Vash broke apart. Sobs cracked open his chest and cried until the pain spiraled and peaked; he bawled until his head throbbed and his eyes swelled. His fingers dug into your back as he called, desperate for a sign of hope. Your hollow body was clutched to his heart, and he felt the injustice roared through him. The feeling fractured him apart. His forehead pressed against your cheek, and his mouth trembled as he whispered, "C-Come ba-ck." The words fell apart. He could only mumble stuttering sounds.

He kissed your knuckles briefly. Would you have blushed if you were still breathing, whining about how cheesy he was being? He could only imagine your reactions now.

Hot tears streamed down his face, and he squeezed his eyelids shut in an effort to make them stop. He sat there unmoving for quite some time with choppy breathing and watery eyes.

09:00 pm - July 21st

Things were in a state of disarray in his vision. People were coming in with dropped shoulders and muffled weeps in the air. Someone approached and touched his shoulder for comfort, and a fierce unknown rage emerged in him. He could kill the man there but would have to let go of you, and he couldn't.

Vash turned his face back and held you so tightly like you would be able to feel the faint beat of his heart. He wept, cradling you, and he wouldn't move nor speak a word other than your name. It was like seeing the sun through the water. His tears fell, but you wouldn't be able to kiss them away this time.

"How dare you mourn her!" Someone bent over him. "You killed her!" Weak fists landed on his back but hurt him more than torture and shots. "She died because of you! You bring misfortune and destruction everywhere you go!" yelled Rosalina with a devastated voice.

Words, he thought, were such unpredictable creatures. No gun, knife, army, or enemy could ever be more powerful than a sentence. Blades may cut and kill, but words would stab and stay, burying into the future, digging and failing to rip his skeletons from his flesh. These weren't nice things to say. Not now. Not after what he was going through. Not when his white shirt was covered in your blood, and his hands burned with the bit of warmth left in your body.

Vash continued to hold you, silent and steady, even as the tears receded, even when he began to tremble. He had you tight as his body shook, held you close when the tears started anew, held you in his arms, and stroked your hair, whispering, "Forgive me. Forgive me. Forgive me." His voice was a terrible thing, cracked and broken.

He felt guilty. Anyone who got close to him was doomed to die. He thought his actions and inactions always took away his loved ones. Oh, stubborn, stubborn Vash! Of course, he would blame himself for something that had nothing to do with him.

The once happy eyes of Rosalina spilled hot tears on his shirt. "For two years, you lived among us, looked into our eyes every day, and lied about who you are, Vash the Stampede!"

Several gasps were heard from the crowd, followed by whispers filling the air.

Vash the stampede was here.

Chaos.

Questions flew, and weeps were muffled. Everyone was shocked, horrified, freaking out. You had long been forgotten, he thought.

"Is he the most wanted Vash the Stampede?"

"Were there raids in the saloon because of him?"

"The bounty hunters were after the money on his head?"

"They shot us and ran away because of this man?"

"This guy really had us fooled!"

"Is this true?"

Vash's reality was too broken, too distracted to process these kinds of talks. This horrible instant was one mess of insanity in his mind. He couldn't make any sense of it. He didn't answer a word to anyone and just stroked your cold cheek with as much gentleness as he could.

Someone shouted, "What's the hell's the matter with you? Say something. At least make some excuse!"

"Shame on you for bringing danger to our town!"

"We've heard enough of your crying!"

"At least have the decency and go die like a man!"

"No normal human being could cause all these horrible things! He had to be a monster! Who else could have been responsible?"

"Did you feel some of the pain of people who died because of your reckless behaviors?"

He was dying, he thought. He must be. He thought he knew what death was like, but he must have been wrong because this was a whole different kind of dying—a whole different kind of pain.

"That girl died protecting this demon?"

"She knew about the humanoid typhoon all this time." The man gulped and pointed at your dead body. "Our loved ones are dead and hurt because of her stupid devotion to this walking disaster!"

The scene was quite unbelievable, horrifying. His mind reeled, incapable of comprehending or processing what he was hearing. Everything in him came to a halt while his thoughts caught up. It was for him that you died. The shock brought a quietness, a moment to gird his soul for what would come. Truth poured gasoline on the spark of denial in his belly, burning him alive. It fashioned itself into a knife and stabbed him in the eye. And the funny thing was, he didn't want to do anything to stop it. Anguish was all that remained of you; he embraced it with all he was. He deserved it. So he bled with a smile on his face, wishing the pain to end him this time.

"If that self-righteous whore had revealed his whereabouts, not only would she be alive now, but the others wouldn't be dead either!"

Blackness seemed to press against his eyes, ears, and throat. He couldn't breathe, hear, or see clearly, and the suffocation of the moment was so terrifying that he was almost sure he had lost his mind.

How many insults can one person take before throwing in the fucking towel? For him, that number was infinite, but for you, he wouldn't allow even one.

He stood up and grabbed a fistful of the man's shirt. He pointed a gun at the infamous criminal, but Vash ripped the gun out of his hand. "What did you say about her?" he asked with a voice like a rusty saw that wanted to cut the bone. His jaw was clenched, and his eyes were burning in absolute rage. Nobody had seen him like this. Not once. People were so used to his calm and kind demeanor that this side of him scared them. If they wanted a typhoon, they'd get one. He was fortified with a new kind of anger, a desperate, animal intensity that overpowered him and forced him to stand still.

The man was trembling in his grip. "N-nothing," he finally said. Vash's pulse was racing, breathing heavily, almost like he would burst. The muscles in his hand tensed, causing him to crack his knuckles. Almost like a blazing inferno, his blood boiled in his veins, burning him from the inside out. He was mainly angry with himself, but that wouldn't stop his urge to hunt each and every single one of those bounty hunters, just to make sure they suffered and felt a lot of pain, just like he felt. No longer did he want to show sympathy to anyone. Maybe he was really a monster, wasn't he?

"If they learn your name and start haunting you, we'll run away! We'll run, run, run, and keep running as far as we have to! And when things calm down, we'll settle by their side again. You won't kill. You'll never kill anyone again, and one day, people will begin seeing you as I do."

Recalling your words, his eyes widened, and his fist loosened. The man's face was devoid of color. Vash tried to read his eyes for something but saw nothing but terror in the end. He was afraid.

No.

Your race was merciless. How could they say such a thing about one of their own? This man probably deserved the worst, but you didn't want Vash to be cruel, only to be kind. And he couldn't do this to you. Because if he did and an afterlife existed, you'd probably be the only sad person in heaven right now.

Dropping the man on the floor, Vash crushed his gun in his hand and tossed it away. The stranger was groaning and hunching over when he returned to you.

It was the first time Rosalina had seen him like this, her brain unable to digest or process this information. Unlike the man she knew, this one had cold, sharp eyes only focused on you. The look on his face was different. Scary, even. Somehow that worried her even more. She might be sad for you, even hate her people for having talked disparagingly about you; maybe she would give them a piece of her mind and grieve your loss. Maybe. Right now, though, her child's safety was her top priority, and this blood-stained man didn't look very stable.

"Listen, we don't want to die! Leave here and never come back!"

Vash sat by your side, helpless, as if something had broken inside him and all his emotions had poured out. When you left him alone, did you take some part of him with you?

"Get her out of this town. This disaster would've never happened if you hadn't stumbled into this town. She'd still be alive," Rosalina said firmly, staring at your peaceful face like you were in a deep sleep.

Vash didn't answer or even glance at the woman who wanted to help you celebrate his birthday. Like an orphan, he pulled you impossibly close, your bodies soldering together. He pondered Rosalina's words and the night he saw you and wondered whether your life would have been different if he hadn't met you. Who was even capable of answering this? As he whispered your name and begged you for forgiveness, his tears washed the blood from your cheeks, and Rosalina felt something inside her die. As she watched him willingly take all blame upon himself alone, as if he was already familiar with this feeling, she felt something break apart inside her.

Vash resembled his wanted posters now. A tall man with blond hair covered in red, but this time, it was your blood instead of his famous coat. His hands were trembling so hard he couldn't even recognize them anymore. Even so, he picked you up, cuddling you in his arms, only to notice the hickey on your neck from hours ago. Pain cramped his joints, breaking away every single bone in his body. He wanted to shriek through the sky; he wanted to fall to his knees again and sob into the ground. He didn't know why the agony wasn't finding an escape through his tears.

"Think way back. Remember that story I told you? About the man that found a blank ticket that could take him anywhere he wanted? That man is all of us. Where you go is yours to choose. You'll always have that ticket in your pocket, no matter what darkness life throws at you. When you're ready, write down the destination. I promise you. You'll be alright."

He wished Rem was right, but there was no such concept as happiness in this world. There was only endless strife, destruction, and death. There was only loneliness, pain, and regret. Whatever he did, no matter how much he pleaded, no matter how much he wished with all his heart to make things right, life always had a way of taking everything from him.

It seemed like Vash the Stampede's life had peaked, and nothing that came after you would ever matter to him. Because for him, there was before you, and there was during you, but he didn't want any after you. You were the light he never knew he needed. He was lost in the darkness, wandering life without direction. Then he found you, and you brought him warmth and light. You were the one who saved him. Twice and he couldn't do the same.

As he walked forward, he pleaded with his bones to remain steady, to carry him through the rest of the day and into the rest of his meaningless life. He passed through the crowd as if he had never been a part of them. The sand dragged under his feet, his knees weak, but he held you tight and walked away. His footprints grew smaller and smaller until there was only the empty silence of a long, lonely night.

Let's let him be for now. Everyone deserves to be left alone for a moment or two, right? Be that as it may, he always lost his most precious ones on his birthdays. Maybe it would have been better if he had never been born so that he would not have to endure so much grief alone. Or perhaps it was the way it was so we could be part of his life.

Author note: My real world had grown so dark that I didn't want to live in it. That's why I escaped and spent the day in a world darker than mine. Please accept my sincere apologies for dragging you down here with me ^_^

If you have anything to say, don't be shy to use ASK and the comment sections.

Disclaimers: This fan-written story contains quotes from "The Song of Achilles", "King Killer Chronicles", "Shatter Me" series and "Reminders of him" books, "Hamlet" play, and "I am unafraid with him" poem by pencap on Tumblr.

The arts are from "Trigun Stampede" anime.

[lunafreya24]

A Passion of Ice and Fire

Pairing: Jacaerys Velaryon/Cregan Stark

Chapter 4: Jace gives the report of his visits to the Vale and Winterfell. He struggles to tell his mother about his love affair with Lord Cregan. He still worries she will disapprove of him.

(cw: internalized homophobia, period-typical homophobia)

“The Queen wishes to speak with Prince Jacaerys, Your Highness.” Elinda, Queen Rhaenyra’s lady-in-waiting, said softly. 

“Please inform the Queen he will be there in just a moment.” Luke answered back. 

“What do I say to her?” Jace panicked, practically flying off of Luke’s bed. 

“For now, give her your report and we will figure out how to explain the rest later.” 

“You're right.” Jace went to leave. “Dammit, I was supposed to change before I saw her.” He remembered.

Luke grabbed a tunic from his closet and tossed it to Jace. “Here, this one should fit.”

“Thank you. Wait, this is mine. I thought I had lost it!” Jace accused.

Luke shrugged in response. “You’re running out of time, you don’t want to keep mother waiting any longer.” 

Jace threw on his tunic and made his way down to the drawing room, finding his mother sitting alone looking into the fire. He slowly walked up to her. He felt as if he were a child again, coming to tell her about an old vase he had broken while running down the hall. He tries his best to keep his voice and face clear as he gives the report of his visits.    

“Your Grace.” Jace started.

From the moment he entered the room, Rhaenyra knew her son was hiding something. He had inherited his true father, Sir Harwin’s inability to mask strong emotions.

“Lady Jeyne Arryn has pledged her support, in exchange for a dragon to guard the Vale.” He pushed on. “And…... Lord Cregan Stark,” Jace’s voice cracked. He cleared his throat before continuing. “Lord Cregan Stark has promised 2,000 men to aid us in our army.”

“Thank you Prince Jacaerys,” Rhaenyra began, “and was that the whole of your trip?”

“Excuse me, Your Grace?” 

“Well, I’m only wondering because you were gone for many weeks. I understand negotiations can be tedious and the distance is far, but I had hoped you would have some sort of leave during your stay, did you not?” 

“I did Your Grace.” Jace answered, not giving any more information. Rhaenyra sighed.

“Please sit down, Jace.” Rhaenyra offered the seat next to her. Jace took it cautiously. 

“I’m not asking this as your Queen, I am asking as a mother who wishes to know what her son has been up to. You are not in trouble nor am I ordering you to tell me what happened. But I assure you there is nothing you could have done that I did not do at least once in my youth.” Rhaenyra joked.

“I am not so sure mother.” Jace whispered, looking down at his hands. 

“Jacaerys, please, I do not wish for you to keep secrets from me. I know a great deal has changed over these past few moons, but I never desire for you to feel as if you cannot speak to me freely. I am still your mother and I want to converse with you the way we always have. You are growing into such a remarkable young man, and I wish to hear about it from your own admission, not in letters or accounts given by my court.” Rhaenyra pleaded. 

“I’m only afraid my actions will make you ashamed of me. And that you will no longer…. see yourself as my mother.” Jace confessed, looking up with glassy eyes. 

Rhaenyra was completely blindsided by this statement. “Jacaerys, son, look at me.” she said. “There are so few things that could ever make me ashamed of you, and even fewer that would make me not wish to be your mother anymore. Please, tell me what happened. I’m sure it is not so horrible, and we will both feel much better when it’s done. Please Jace, you’re frightening me.” 

“I…...broke my commitment to Baela,” Jace started. 

“I see. Well, this is not uncommon with royal betrothals. You are not yet married, and I believe you two can work through this.” Rhaenyra assured. 

“I broke my commitment to her…...with another man.” Jace revealed. Rhaenyra once again found herself astonished by her eldest child. “Oh.” was the only word she could find in response. She did not think of herself as an intolerant person, but she was truly at a loss for how to resolve this situation at the moment. She knew she had to say something though. She could see her son’s anguish growing with her silence. “Jace.” She began, “you have no reason to think I would ever be ashamed of you for this,” she said, grabbing Jace’s hand. “I suppose you don’t remember your father Laenor so well,” she said, but Jace interrupted. 

“I do, mother. I…I just…. I thought…” Jace struggled to find the words. But his mother understood. 

“You thought it would be different because you are my son?” 

Jace could only nod, due to the pressure growing in his throat. 

Rhaenyra fully embraced her son now. “I loved your father, as I love you. He was my family and a dear friend. We respected each other enough to serve our roles and allow each other to find romantic love in other people.” She explained, running a hand through her boy’s soft curls. “I do not care which sex piques your interests, you will always be my little boy. I only care that you are kind, just, and intelligent." She held her son the way she did when he was small. "Might I ask what this boy’s name is?” 

Jace picked his head up, wiping the tears from his face. “Lord Cregan Stark.” He told her. Rhaenyra could not help her amusement. 

“I must admit, you have good taste my boy.” She said with a giggle. 

“What do you mean?” Jace asked. 

“I mean you have picked a lord who comes from a powerful house with a good family, who just so happens to be a decent looking young man.” Rhaenyra explained. 

“Have you met him before?” 

“Once, when he was very young. But I remember telling his mother, Lady Gilliane, at the time that I believed he would grow into a very handsome young man. Was I correct in my assumption?” Rhaenrya pondered, smirking at her son. 

“You were mother.” Jace said, blushing fiercely.

"Would you tell me about him?"

“He’s very tall and at first I was intimidated by him but once we got to know each other, he showed me such a gentle, kindhearted side of himself.”

Rhaenyra felt a tinge of sadness in her heart, “He reminds me of Sir Harwin.” She remarked.

"Really?" Jace asked, grasping at the few memories he still had of his true father.

"Yes, very much."

Rhaenyra listened to her son go on and on about the young Lord Stark. How beautiful and affectionate the so-called Warden of the North was, on the inside as well as on the outside. She then realized she had yet to have this conversation with her son. He had never discussed feeling such an intense attraction to anyone else. He had referred to Baela, Rhaena, and Helaena as pretty, however, it came off as more of an observation than a genuine feeling he had for them. Then, as if on cue, Jace admitted.

“Oh mother, I don’t think I’ve felt this way about anyone before. He makes my heart race faster than riding Vermax through the hills.” 

“You seem very taken with him.” 

“I am. And he’s just as taken with me. I think. He gave me this.” Jace said as he reached in his shirt pulling out a long steel necklace, carrying a dark stone. In this stone was a carving of the direwolf, a sigil of House Stark. “It belonged to a close relative of his. He wanted me to have it so that I would remember him all these miles away.” Jace elaborated, lovesickness thick in his voice. 

“And did you give him something in return?” Rhaenyra inquired, having become very invested in this story now. 

“I gave him the pin Lord Corlys gave to me on thirteenth nameday, the silver one with the blue jewel in the center.” 

“I remember it.” His mother recalled. 

“And when he took it from me, he pinned it to the inside of his coat.” Jace smiled, “He pinned it to the part that fell over his heart. He said as long as he wears that pin, he will think of me.” Jace felt feverish with how hard he was blushing. 

“Aww,” Rhaenyra cooed at her son’s anecdote. “I wish my early love affairs could have been as charming as yours.” She feigned envy. 

Jace laughed, then frowned, “Mother, what am I going to do about Baela? I don't want to hurt her.” He sighed. 

“The best thing for both of you is to be honest with each other. If she is anything like her mother, she will be supportive. But, if the pair of you cannot strike an accord, bring her to me and I will see what can be done here.” Rhaenyra insisted. 

“All right then, thank you mother.” Jace said, hugging his mother tightly before making his way to Baela’s chambers. 

[bvidzsoo]

Love Me Like A Rockstar (1)

ー☆ Chapter 1: The death of peace of mind

Author: bvidzsoo

Pairing: Song Mingi x female reader

ー☆ Warning: light cursing ー☆ Word count: 6.9k ー☆ Genre: university!au, enemies to lovers!au, rockstar!au ー☆ Rating: sfw ー☆ Summary: Love. You wanted none of it. You had already been heartbroken very badly once, you didn't wish to go through that ever again. But the Universe works in intricate ways and, somehow, you found yourself webbed up in a local rockstar's life, Song Mingi. He was everything you expected him to be, yet nothing like you imagined him he would be. What happens when you find mutual understanding and have heartful conversations? Will he be able to break down your walls? Will you be able to chase away his darkness?

A/N: Hii, first chapter is out, hope you all enjoy it! I hope the lyrics aren't confusing, I went ahead and tried out something new with this story, hopefully it's as enjoyable as I planned it out to be. Please do check the playlist as it'll be updated with each chapter and I also advise you listen to the song before or while reading the chapters, it'll have a different feel. Taglist is open, thank you for showing interest! Please leave feedback and enjoy now!

Taglist: @orshii @lovely-red2 @juicy-red @scarfac3 @sunaswifes-blog

⟨Series M.list ⟩

♫Playlist♫

『I made another mistake

Thought I could change, thought I could make it out』

The rustle of paper, the zipping of a pencil case, the drying scent of freshly used paint, and the oily feeling on your fingertips after using acrylics, the slight burn against your middle finger after having held your pencil tightly for hours were all things I was used to, familiar with. I bit my lower lip as my eyes were stuck to my A5 sketchbook, the paper thick, entranced by the black charcoal forming a way too familiar shape. The outline of the person was dark, shadows creeping around his body, faceless. I didn’t have it in me to put too much detail into his face, my mind kept wandering. I was feeling slightly lost. The weather was getting worse day by day, the sky dark, casting a gloomy feel over our heads. It didn’t help that I haven’t slept well for three days in a row, but perhaps that had something to do with the full moon—or so my mother has said while cooking dinner yesterday.

A sigh left my lips as my fingers itched to trace another line against the paper, to perfect the stray strand of light-colored hair falling against the man’s forehead. My shoulders were hunched over and I only now registered the soreness in my neck and lower back, having been sitting at this stool for almost two hours now. When I was drawing, or painting, time seemed to fly by in a wink, leaving me completely oblivious to everything happening around me. It was a means to calm my mind, to soothe my feelings, and a means to existing without wondering, dwelling, or feeling the dread of not being good enough—and perhaps the worst thought which quite often recurred in my scattered mind was that I didn’t know what I would do with myself once I was done with University. Opening an art club for all the art lovers was a small step in feeling a little accomplishment, however, that would be gone as soon as I was out and away from this place. Who would take over then? Were there students who were interested enough, loved art enough, to continue the little legacy I would leave behind? Those were pressing questions in the back of my mind sometimes, and I knew I was worrying about insignificant things, but they felt very crucial to me. If I could leave a little piece of me behind everywhere I went, nobody would be able to forget me, right?

“Bye, Y/N!” The sudden chirping of my name combined with the greeting finally snapped me out of my thoughts and I looked up, a small smile forming on my lips as I waved at the leaving students. They weren’t my students per se, I was only an Art major, but I did view them as my little apprentices. They were ambitious and determined to learn everything they could, eager to contribute as much as they could. I appreciated their effort and felt glad that people like them existed, it gave me hope in humankind. Not that I had much with everything going on in the world, but I could only appreciate and admire those who found a little kindness in their hearts to share with others.

I finally felt like I was done with my drawing as I sat back, rolling my shoulders back and cracking my neck as the last few students left the room, leaving me alone with the approaching girl with a grin on her face. I turned my head and watched her as she giddily approached me, gripping her sketchbook to her chest.

“Wanna see?” She asked with a chuckle and I nodded with a smile, eyes falling on my best friend’s drawing. I instantly recognized the features of the older woman and I chuckled as I took in the smaller version of my best friend, grinning up at her mother as she held a little flower up to her. She never stopped amazing me with her beautiful creations, and I couldn’t help but clap for her briefly.

“This is gorgeous, Seulgi, I’m in love.” I said as I reached my hand out and lightly traced the leaves of the willow tree in the drawing, making my best friend grin happily. She had her hair down today, her black curls falling around her shoulders. Her hair has gotten long, but she didn’t want to cut it, said she liked it more like this. It did suit her and gave her a younger look; her colorful outfits complementing her personality and overall looks well.

“What did you draw?” She asked and I glanced over at my own drawing, sucking my lower lip between my teeth. I really shouldn’t have drawn him again, but doing so brought me comfort. It always did. Despite the heartbreak he left in his wake, Yunho was a person whom I have deeply loved and found shelter in once—my drawings of him only reflected that. I have anticipated Seulgi’s reaction as I took my sketchbook off from the drafting board, turning it around and letting her eyes rake over it as she sighed, giving me a slightly disappointed look as she placed one hand on her hip. I looked away and quickly closed my sketchbook, getting off the stool. My hips and back protested in pain as I stretched my arms overhead, letting out a groan when my stiff muscles strained and vertebras finally popped.

“I thought we agreed you would stop drawing Yunho…” Seulgi trailed off as she watched me start packing away my things into my dark green backpack. Oh, well, she certainly wasn’t wrong, but I got carried away today—I haven’t even realized I was drawing Yunho until I was done with the outline of his body.

“Uh, yeah,” I muttered slightly embarrassed as Seulgi shook her head and closed her own sketchbook, balancing on one leg as she unzipped her backpack and placed it against her thigh, “But we talked about the feeling of comfort today and a place or person whom makes you feel safe and—I got carried away, sorry.”

Seulgi gave me a sympathetic look as she had forced her sketchbook inside her backpack and lowered her leg, swinging her bag around her shoulders, “And you couldn’t have drawn you—mother? Or teddy bear from third grade?”

Her offhanded question made me chuckle as I looked at her amused, my backpack hanging off my shoulders as I only wore one strap.

“Mom would flip if I drew her and made even the smallest mistake. I’d rather avoid getting scolded about making her eyebrow darker than it actually is.” Seulgi and I shared a look before we both started giggling as I recalled the one and only time I drew my mother, swearing to never do it again as she found every single little detail wrong about her features, pointed them out to me, and then proceeded to ignore me for the next three days. Thinking back on it, it is a quite hilarious memory, but back in that moment she made me feel like I wasn’t good enough, talented enough, making me doubt my skills for a very long time. Until I met Seulgi and she started freaking out about my art, calling me phenomenal.

“Yeah, perhaps drawing your mom wouldn’t be the smartest, but seriously, Y/N, how long has it been?” Seulgi seemed to think for a second as we started for the door, “Five years? You certainly should be over Yunho by now.”

Hearing his name left a sour taste in my mouth even if it shouldn’t have. Despite the passing of years he somehow still made me feel bitter about everything that’s happened between us. I hate that feeling, but I couldn’t get rid of it and it was frustrating.

“I am over him.” I muttered as we left the art studio and I locked the door, making Seulgi hum next to me sounding not too convinced. I sighed and rolled my eyes as I pocketed the key, then we started walking down the empty hallway, headed for the exit.  

“Do you have any plans tonight?” Seulgi decided to change the subject as she bounced on the balls of her feet, a huge grin appearing on her lips. I raised my eyebrows at her sudden excitement and thought for a second before I shook my head no. We turned the corner to the left, having arrived in the musical studies department. The hallway was littered with doors on both sides, which were studios for the music majors, private little rooms where they could record and write whatever songs they wanted.

“Cool,” Seulgi grinned and suddenly gripped my hand, her lips falling into a pout, eyes slightly widening. Oh, I knew what was coming next, yet her honey like tone still made me cringe, “Come with me to the Outlaw? Please?”

My eyebrows furrowed hearing the mentioned place. It was famous amongst our university’s students. It was a run down and cheap pub where degenerates gathered to have fun almost every night, drinking their night away, wasting their money and braincells on unimportant things.

“Why would I go there?”

“Because I’m asking?” Seulgi raised an eyebrow, “And because the Noir Zenith are playing tonight and I really want to go—”

“What is a Noir Zenith?” I asked confused, making Seulgi’s eyes widen to the point of bulging out. She looked funny as she let go of my hand and gasped as if I had sworn out her mother or someone she really cared about.

“It’s the coolest band from our university! Are you telling me you haven’t heard of them?” She asked outraged making me laugh, “I’m speechless.”

“Well, you know I don’t waste my time by drinking my sorrows away in a shitty pub surrounded by even shittier people who try to chase fame with scratchy and awful voices. Is the band made up by some music major students?”

“They do not have scratchy and awful voices, Y/N!” Seulgi looked outraged by this point, making me raise my eyebrows in surprise, “God, they are one of the best bands to ever exist—”

“Yeah, right,” I rolled my eyes as we entered the main hall of our university, “Go on and disregard all of the previous phenomenal bands to ever exist, nice one, Seulgi—wait, is this about Wooyoung? Didn’t you say he’s part of a band as well?”

At the mention of said boy all anger and incredulity disappeared from Seulgi’s face and she shrunk back, hiding her face behind her hair, “Yeah, he’s actually a vocalist of the band. Noir Zenith.”

“Oh,” Was all I could say as I watched her push her hair behind her ears, face almost as red as a tomato. I tried not to laugh at my best friend, her crush on the boy painfully obvious, “And I assume you want to go watch them perform tonight?”

Seulgi nodded wordlessly as she pushed open the double doors for us, “At Outlaw?”

She nodded again and I hummed, raking my brain for any plans I had made for tonight, but I found none. I had zero excuses to refuse Seulgi for so I glanced at her as we ascended the few stairs, licking my lips as I dwelled on the idea of being seen at such place. I mean, it couldn’t be that bad, right? After all, it was just a band singing from our university and I would be out of there the second they were done. That sounded pretty reasonable and alright to me, so I hummed, and smiled at Seulgi.

“What time?” Her eyes widened as she whipped her head towards me as we were headed to the bus station.

“Oh, my God!” She shrieked and flung herself at me, almost throwing us off balance, “You’re the best, I love you! Seven, you should be ready at six thirty, and I’ll pick you up and we’ll drive there together—oh, my God, I’m so excited! Wooyoung said they’ll be performing their newest song and he said it’s so fire! Mingi wrote the lyrics, and Wooyoung helped with the chorus, he actually showed me a snippet—do not tell Mingi that—and it was so good, oh, my God—I’m rambling, sorry, but you said yes and I just—”

Seulgi cut herself off with a shriek as she let go of me, leaving me partially deaf as her shrill voice rang through my right ear, making me wince. Of course, I wouldn’t tell Mingi, whoever that was.

“Alright, I’ll be done by six thirty.” I muttered as Seulgi skipped ahead, sitting on the bench by the bus stop, grinning from ear to ear as she took her phone out of her pocket, starting to type furiously. She was probably texting Wooyoung, but I couldn’t be too sure, they had periods when they would talk all day and night, and then periods when they would go radio silent for a week or so. Their relationship was interesting but Seulgi never talked too much about it, having once muttered that if she thought about Wooyoung for too long she’d fall for him—or something like that, I couldn’t be sure, Seulgi says a lot of things which she only half-heartedly means.

『Promises break, need to hear you say

"You're gonna keep it now"』

            The pub was exactly like in the stories of others, and an exact replica of what I had in my mind. Which was bad, so being right here only made it worse as I allowed my eyes to travel to the ceiling, noticing all the uncovered pipes traveling above our heads. The lights were dim and there was almost like a light fog in the air, thankfully there weren’t any foul smells, like cigarettes or something else. The room was spacious, which was the only alright thing I could find about this place, as the walls were made of burgundy brick, a few falling out here and there. The dark wood floor seemed to be rotten in some places and I could only hiss as the front of my boots caught in an uneven plank, sending me slightly forward. Seulgi threw me an amused look before continuing her trot towards—I didn’t know where, but I decided to follow her blindly as I really wasn’t vibing with this place. Posters hung from the brick wall here and there and some graffiti covered it where the bar was. Chairs and tables were littered around the room, all looking quite old in age as I noticed one chair missing a leg, chuckling at the idea of someone toppling over once sitting on it. Seulgi gasped quite loudly and stopped walking for a second, making me crash into her back and throw her an unamused look as she swiftly turned around, lips pressed together and hands cupping her cheeks.

“Do I look alright, Y/N?” She blurted out, eyebrows furrowing, “Or am I too much? Do you think—did I totally miss the vibes with this outfit? I look ridiculous right now, don’t I—”

“No, Seulgi, you don’t.” I decided to cut off my best friend’s panicked rambling, placing my hands on her shoulders. I allowed my eyes to take in her outfit again and I smirked at her as we made eye contact. She was wearing black nylon bomber pants paired with fishnets which were peeking out above the waistband of her pants, her white crop top stopping at the middle of her torso. A black bomber jacket was thrown around her shoulders, matching her pants, and her white boots reached just underneath her knees. She had straightened her long hair and I helped her by making a smokey eye for her, accentuating the depth of her beautiful eyes, sharpening her stare. She looked absolutely gorgeous and I needed her to stop second guessing her outfit, “You look fucking hot and anyone in their right mind would want to devour you right now.”

“You included?” Seulgi flirted cheekily and I pretended to gag as I pushed her playfully away by her arms, making Seulgi laugh as she pushed her hair behind her shoulders, “Alright, I believe you.”

“Very well.” I grinned and allowed her to grip my elbow as the crowd was slightly denser here as we made our way towards the front of the room, headed to where the small stage was. I could see a drum set up on the dark stage, and suddenly I was veered to the left, almost getting whiplash by the force Seulgi pulled me after herself. I took in the people around me and decided that I definitely wasn’t part of this crowd, and it was showing. One, I was painfully sober and they weren’t; two, I certainly missed the point of this being a pub dominated by rock lovers, and my outfit had nothing to do with it. Against my better judgement, I have decided to wear a tight black skirt which barely reached the middle of my thighs, paired with high heel boots which reached my knees. A white tank top peeked through the burgundy long sleeved blouse I wore over it, having discarded my leather jacket in Seulgi’s car out of fear of losing it. All in all, the outfit was awesome, it’s just that it didn’t really match with the place in question I was at. I was slowly starting to regret coming here as we finally stopped walking and Seulgi’s hand, which brought comfort, disappeared from my elbow. I suddenly became aware that we have stopped by a table, and my best friend’s arms were around a guy’s shoulder as the two hugged each other—rather tightly, might I add. I allowed my eyes to fall on the guy and realized, only because Seulgi had shown me countless pictures of him, that it was Wooyoung. The only reason we were here, her crush. I tried to hide my snickering as they pulled away from each other and I have noticed Seulgi’s flushed cheeks, which was probably wise as Seulgi’s eyes were instantly on me, holding a warning in them.

“This is Y/N, my best friend.” She said sweetly as she lightly pushed Wooyoung towards me, “Y/N, this is Wooyoung the—vocalist and guitarist of Noir Zenith.”

“Cool name.” I muttered half-heartedly as Wooyoung extended his hand to shake, I was only speaking because I had to say something if I didn’t want to come off rude. A huge smile broke onto Wooyoung’s face at the praise of his band’s name and he eagerly shook my hand, making me force a smile onto my face when he held my hand for an unnecessary long time. The guy was just around my height and seemed to be buzzing with energy as he tapped his foot against the ground, sneaking glances towards Seulgi before finally facing her. His jawline was sharp and nose high as I took in his profile, his pretty eyes focused on my best friend. His hair was longer at the back and had two colors, black and blonde, it certainly didn’t look bad on him. He seemed to be the only one, besides myself, not dressed fitting for the place, and suddenly I didn’t feel as singled out as I had been moments prior, thankful for the light grey extremely baggy jeans littered with glitter he was wearing and for the grey and black faded out loose shirt hiding his frame. The front was slightly tucked in and a maroon belt held his pants to his hips, matching the color of his sneakers. The guy wore a few earrings and I just heard Seulgi complimenting them, making me chuckle. I knew she wanted to talk to him, so I didn’t bother them and instead looked around again, feeling slightly awkward, before I rested my gaze on the other two sitting at the table.

One guy was looking down at his phone, completely immersed by it as his long fingers were typing quickly, his wavy black hair falling into his eyes. He wore a very intricate white shirt, the material seemed to part at his shoulders and only covered his upper arm, cuffed and puffed out at his wrists, leaving the rest of his arms bare. A black corset like looking fabric was wrapped around his torso, stopping right below his chest and everything was neatly tucked inside black dress pants, an expensive silver chain hanging under the neckline of his shirt. The outfit was something I would’ve never thought of putting together, yet, it looked fabulous on the man and for a few seconds I found myself gawking at him. But I quickly caught myself and looked away awkwardly, hoping that nobody noticed my staring, instead, I found myself looking at the third guy, taking him in. His demeanor screamed confidence as he wore a smirk on his cherry red plush lips, jawline visibly sharp as his head was turned to the side, his nose tall and long. His tan skin glistened underneath the shitty lights of the pub, yet you were able to spot a few covered up blemishes around his jaw. His neck was heavily decorated with silver chains of various dimensions, a shinning silver pick dangling lower on his exposed chest as his black tank top was low cut and form fitting. The guy had a big midnight blue jacket over his frame and it had an interesting design, his jeans ripped at the knee and black like his tank top. Silver chain like bracelets wrapped around his wrists and I found my eyes drawn to his hands as he was pushing his glass from one hand to the other, fingers littered with smaller and bigger rings, the one with a red gem catching my eye. His nails seemed to have dirt scribbled over them, that is, until I looked harder and realized it was chapped black nail polish. I couldn’t deny how nice this guy looked and as I looked back up at his face, I found him looking back at me. My heart somersaulted but I played it off—hopefully my face really didn’t show any emotion—as I steeled my gaze and allowed blankness to settle over my features. His black hair was shorter and fell over his eyes, covering his forehead. The guy’s eyes were sharp and his gaze intimidating as his face remained unexpressive, features cold as he seized me up, suddenly the smirk back on his face. My eyes narrowed as the guy continued watching me smugly, and I just noticed the little something which looked like a smudge of something on his right cheekbone. Did he smudge dirt on it? Was he even aware that it was there? The possibility of him not knowing his perfect face was tainted brought a smirk on my lips and an eyebrow of the guy’s flew up, his gaze almost challenging as our stare down was abruptly stopped by a chair scraping backwards. My gaze went back to the very handsome man and I was surprised by the friendly gaze sent my way.

His features were soft yet sharp at the same time, his eyes big and warm as his lips were plump and looked soft. His skin was tan too and the highlighter reflected off his cheekbones, giving him an ethereal feel. There was a small piercing in his nose and I was slightly alarmed as he suddenly walked around the table, approaching my side. My body tensed and I glanced towards Seulgi, who was deep in conversation with Wooyoung. I assume these three must be friends since they were sitting at the same table.

“I’m Seonghwa, Wooyoung’s friend.” The guy finally spoke up, his voice was definitely softer than I expected it to be, and I reluctantly shook his extended hand.

“My name is Y/N.” I answered politely and retracted my hand from his as fast as I could. Seonghwa continued smiling as he looked towards Seulgi and his own friend, “Oh, uhm, I’m Seulgi’s best friend.”

“I figured,” He chuckled, scratching the back of his head. The aura this outfit gave him certainly didn’t match his current attitude, “Wooyoung mentioned Seulgi coming by and bringing her friend, it’s nice meeting you.”

“Oh, you too.” I offered him a lopsided grin and clasped my hands together in front of myself, Seonghwa’s demeanor not as off putting as most guy’s—or like the other guy’s who just stood up from the table and started approaching us. I watched him, eyes falling on him involuntarily as there was something about him which demanded attention as he came awfully close to Seonghwa and I, towering over the both of us. Seonghwa was a tall guy too, but this third guy’s height seemed to loom even over him, but I didn’t let that affect me in any way as I looked up at him with a bored expression.

“Found another little fan of ours?” I gulped at the hear of his voice, which somehow matched his face, it was deep and slightly raspy, however, the tone he used rubbed me the wrong way. My eyes narrowed at him and before Seonghwa could answer him, I fired an answer his way.

“A fan of yours?” I chuckled drily, “You certainly can’t be as self-centered as to think every female around a mile radius would instantly throw themselves at you, no?”

A beat of silence followed before Seonghwa started snickering, hiding his mouth by his hand as the other guy’s eyebrows furrowed. He didn’t look pleased by my question and he leaned down to be at the same height as me, gaze boring into mine. When his face was blank, his eyes seemed to get sharper and it somehow made my heartbeat pick up, but I ignored it. It was just the adrenaline, the annoyance, probably which threatened to seep through my bloodstream sooner than later.

“And who are you again?” The guy’s voice was quieter, dropped lower as he tried to belittle me with his stupid question, but I just rolled my eyes and crossed my arms in front of my chest.

“Don’t think I introduced myself to you before,” I snapped and the guy clicked his tongue, “Who are you, first of all?”

“You don’t know who I am?” His eyebrows suddenly furrowed as confusion washed over his face and for a second—but just that one little second—I thought the guy looked cute as his features softened.

“No, I don’t.” Him lowering himself allowed me to see whatever that was on his cheekbone better, and I could make out that it was some sort of logo, however, I have never seen it before, “And you have some dirt on your face.”

I pointed at my own cheekbone and Seonghwa’s sudden loud laughter alerted Seulgi and Wooyoung as they finally seemed to realize there were others around them, especially me, as Seulgi quickly stepped close and gripped my shoulder.

“That’s not dirt!” The man exclaimed and for someone with such a deep voice, his tone went incredibly high, “That’s my signature, bro.”

“Okay, bro, you’re self-centered, like I said—” Before I could really go off on this guy Seulgi gasped and laughed loudly, awkwardly, as I threw her a small glare.

“Aren’t you two hitting it off right the bat?!” She tried to diffuse the tension as Wooyoung chuckled, amused by the situation as Seonghwa was grinning too, “Y/N, this is Song Mingi, the bass player, singer, producer, lyricist, founder of Noir Zenith—be nice.”

The last part was only whispered to me and my eyebrows furrowed as I looked back at this guy, Mingi, who stood back up straight and threw a glare my way as I scoffed, shrugging my shoulders, “What a waste of talent on such personality.”

Seulgi’s eyes widened to saucers as Wooyoung inhaled loudly before breaking out into an ear-piercing laughter, making me wince, while Seonghwa had to cover his mouth again as he threw his head back and laughed.

“Y/N—that’s—” Seulgi stammered but I hushed her and smirked up at Mingi as he seemed lost for words for a second before his eyes hardened and he pulled his shoulders back, jaw clenching.

“What are you doing here if you don’t even fucking care about our band?” He hissed and for a second the viciousness in his tone took me off guard, but I didn’t let it show as I wrapped my arm around Seulgi’s shoulder and pulled her into my side. She looked mortified and tried speaking again, but I beat her to it—to my pleasure.

“My lovely friend, Seulgi, dragged me here because her and Wooyoung are friends, happy?” I felt Seulgi slightly relax in my grip, but she still subtly poked my side harshly, making me bite my lower lip to keep the groan of pain inside. Wooyoung had stopped laughing, thankfully, and was looking very amused as he punched Mingi’s arm weakly.

“I think you got a little bit humbled, dude.” He whispered loudly—probably on purpose—and Seonghwa giggled again as he quickly adjusted the front pieces of his hair.

“Why would anyone who doesn’t even listen to us come here?” Mingi muttered more to himself as he turned around and sauntered off towards the bar, throwing a glare every so often my way, making me giggle as I found it amusing. Poor dude, couldn’t handle a little humbling, but he definitely needs it.

“Y/N is a little bit—of a bitch—ow!” Seulgi hissed as she rubbed the spot on her arm where I had punched her, “You didn’t let me finish! She’s a bitch, but she’s my bestie and she doesn’t mean harm. I’m sure you guys will charm her by the end of the night.”

Charm me my ass. Maybe Seonghwa and Wooyoung, Mingi not—for sure. Not now or ever. Not that there will be another time and another chance for him to do so.

『It wasn't hard to realize love's the death of peace of mind

You're in the walls that I made with crosses and frames hanging upside down』

            The music coming through the speakers shook the little pub as I sat at the table the three boys have claimed as theirs earlier. Seulgi was by my side, but she was standing up, and she was jumping to the beat, somehow knowing the lyrics to the band’s newest song. I had a feeling Wooyoung had shown her already everything, but she did ask me not to tell Mingi—to whom now I could associate a face—and I had no desire to speak to him ever again, so she really had nothing to worry about. I couldn’t help but admit that they were good—not that I would ever say that out loud, especially not to Mingi—as the rock music blasted from the stage, purple and white lights illuminating the boys. Mingi stood in the center as he gripped his microphone, face scrunched up and the veins on his neck straining as his raspy voice involuntarily covered my skin in goosebumps.

『For granted, in vain, I took everything I ever cared about』

My fingers were tapping the rhythm of song, chin placed on my palm as I rested my hand on the table, watching each boy with curiosity. They all seemed to have different personalities and styles, yet up on the stage, they blended together and they worked well. Their voices complimented each other, where’s Mingi’s was raspy and low and harsh, Seonghwa’s seemed to be lighter and raspier, but then Wooyoung would jump in and his was powerful and high, and yet it still felt like a soft caress of a whisper at times. Their outfits, despite being so different, also made them look exquisite and gave the band a special and unique touch. As I glanced around I noticed how taken everyone seemed by their music, hanging onto every note they played as Seonghwa played the drums at the left side of the stage and Wooyoung the guitar to Mingi’s right.

『I miss the way you say my name

The way you bend, the way you break』

Mingi was gripping his microphone as his eyes were closed and nose scrunched up, eyebrows furrowing as the words slipped through his lips smoothly, his raspy voice soft and tender, like a steady but soft caress of your cheek, the light flutter of your eyelashes as if he was right by your side, whispering the words to you, trying to seduce you.

『Your makeup running down your face

The way you fuck, the way you taste』

Suddenly his eyes flew open and he looked out onto the crowd, locking his gaze with mine. I was about to grab the glass of water and take a sip, but I froze as a smirk slipped onto his lips, mixing in with his voice and very obviously making him sound smug. My jaw clenched just as the people, especially the girls in the front row, started cheering loudly, enjoying Noir Zenith’s performance. I tried to convince myself that I was just imagining things, but I could’ve sworn Mingi’s gaze remained on me and only me, singing the words from deep withing his chest, all kinds of emotions and feelings plastered over his face as he took his microphone out of its stand and started walking around the stage, crouching down and pointing at the girls close to the stage.

『When the curtains call the time, will we both go home alive?

It wasn't hard to realize love's the death of peace of mind

When the curtains call the time, will we both be satisfied?

It wasn't hard to realize love's the death of peace of mind』

They played two more songs after their newest, the crowd going wild as they sang along and I could feel all those unslept nights catching up as my eyes threatened to shut closed at any given time. Seulgi noticed and grew concerned, but I reassured her that I was only tired and would head soon home if she didn’t mind. She insisted I wait at least until the boys finish their performance in order to not be seen rude as I have, probably, already offended them. Not that I would mind, even though Mingi is the only one who actually deserves it.

Once they got off the stage everyone was swarming around them, congratulating them and offering them drinks, and I watched as Seonghwa kindly turned down all of them, meanwhile Mingi carelessly accepted almost all as Wooyoung was pushing his way through the crowd, eager to get back to the table. His cheeks were flushed by the time he reached us and Seulgi sprung onto her feet and went to hug Wooyoung but suddenly paused, looking awkwardly at her feet, until Wooyoung went and pulled her into his embrace instead. Seulgi’s face lit up and she started animatedly talking, but I couldn’t hear as the crowd was loud. Seonghwa seemed to be nowhere as Mingi managed to make his way through the crowd and now was grinning smugly at me, one eyebrow crooked as I rolled my eyes, still not impressed at all by him. He said nothing as he sat down next to me and took a sip of his drink, eyes falling on me. I could see him staring at me from the corner of my eyes, but I ignored him, and instead reached for Seulgi’s jacket to get her car keys so that I could fetch my jacket before leaving. As I felt around her pocket I became aware of two people towering over me as they had stopped behind my chair. I turned my head around and raised my eyebrows at the two girls as they were giggling, waiting for Mingi to notice them. And when he did, that irritating smirk was back on his lips and he greeted the girls with a wide smile, biting his lower lip as they started praising him.

“Mingi you are so cool!” The brunette exclaimed, grinning at him, “I swear to God, this new outfit concept is so hot on you.”

If I could, I would’ve died from the second-hand embarrassment these two girls were giving me, but instead, I decided to stay just a for a little bit longer and see what nonsense they manage to sputter so that I can use it against Mingi later.

“I don’t think I’ve ever heard you singing so passionately like tonight, Mingi, the new song is so good I’m already obsessed with it.” The blonde chimed in fast, throwing a slight glare towards the brunette. I guess the friendship between them flies out the window the second they step closer to a relatively attractive male—not that Mingi is attractive or good looking.

“Ah, you two…you always know how to flatter me.” I possibly have thrown up a little bit in my mouth because of Mingi’s sultry voice and narrowed eyes—he partially looked like he was about to pass out and partially like he would inhale one of the girls, if not both.

“You so deserve it, Mingi!” The blonde quickly exclaimed and placed a hand on his bicep, “Who is your new song about?”

My breathing faltered for a second as Mingi glanced my way, but then I threw him a glare and rolled my eyes, realizing this was our first time meeting. Why did I even think for a little second that the song could’ve been about me? That sounded crazy, and now I felt crazy as I shook my head and downed the glass of water I have abandoned like half an hour ago.

“Someone who won’t leave your mind and makes you want to crawl up the wall, thoughts filled with them, desiring them like no one else before.” Mingi’s voice dropped a few octaves and I couldn’t help but look over as I smirked, abruptly standing up.

“Oh, girls, not to disappoint but he’s said that to like—three other girls before you two, and I don’t think that’s entirely what the song is about. Or maybe Seonghwa was talking about another song…” In fact, I have lied. Mingi hasn’t talked to anyone since he sat down to the table, but the lie was worth it, because the girls expressions dropped slightly, “You know men are usually more desperate to get laid than women, I suppose it makes them say all kinds of things, doesn’t it, Mingi?”

Mingi’s jaw clenched as the two girls looked unsure as they looked back at him, and he chose to laugh it off as if I have said the funniest joke on Earth, leaning slightly forward as he looked up at me, “I suppose someone wasn’t really paying attention tonight to our performance.”

“Right,” I hummed and stepped around my chair, “I prefer listening to real bands and good music, not to some wannabes wailing to a crowd of drunken and high as fuck university students—have a lovely night!”

I only caught the irritated huff of air Mingi let out as I headed towards the bar, where Seulgi and Wooyoung were talking to some people I didn’t know. I didn’t want to disturb them for long, but I had to tell Seulgi I was leaving and would get my jacket before going home.

『You come and go in waves

Leaving me in your wake』

            By the time I have gotten home it was very late and despite my body feeling tired, my brain was relentlessly swirling with thoughts and replaying tonight’s happenings, so after fifteen minutes of laying in bed and staring up at the dark ceiling I realized sleep wouldn’t come easy neither tonight. I sat up and turned on the lamp on my bedside table and grabbed my smaller and thicker sketchbook, flipping it open to an empty page. I sighed as I grabbed a pencil and pressed it against the paper softly, letting my wrist curve whichever way it wanted as I started doodling, humming to myself a melody which sounded slightly foreign yet somehow familiar. I knew I have heard it before, probably recently, but I couldn’t figure out just which song it was.

『You come and go in waves

Swallowing everything』

It didn’t take me long to have the outline of something, which was starting to look an awful lot like eyes staring back at me, and I continued tracing lines and shading in the spots where depth needed to be added. I licked my lips and narrowed my eyes as I pressed the pencil harder against the paper, tightening the frail lines and finalizing the quick drawing of the eyes. I extended my arm and stared at the eyes, which almost felt like they were glaring at me by how sharp its stare was, and my eyebrows furrowed as I realized the eyes looked nothing like Yunho’s. I couldn’t remember the last time when I drew anyone else that wasn’t Yunho and for some reason that scared me as my eyes bore into my drawing, my humming coming to an abrupt stop when I realized who’s song it was. Noir Zenith. And the drawing, the sharp and glaring eyes, were of Song Mingi’s. I gasped and without a second thought started scrawling at the drawing, heart racing and mind an awfully lot quiet. What was I thinking singing his song and drawing his eyes? But there it was, the answer, I wasn’t thinking. And I was sleep deprived. I needed to sleep, like right now. I threw my sketchbook to the floor and jumped back underneath my blanket, pulling it over my head as I screwed my eyes shut. Sleep, I must.

『Are you satisfied?

Love's the death of peace of mind

Mine

Mine』

❱❱ Next chapter

[yourlittlebunnyy]

mate

main acotar masterlist - azriel masterlist

this is prequel 2 of a court of shadows and darkness, but can also be read alone!

summary: how Azriel and Selaene discovered they're mates.

warnings: none

w/c: 2,2k

enjoy🩵

"Do you want to go see the stars?" Azriel asks Selaene, one arm firmly around her body as the young female is crouched on his chest. She lets out a moan of dissent.

"Mhh, no, Azzie, it's too cold." The last of her thoughts is to pull away from her warm, comforting male. His laughter rings in her ears, warming not only her body but also her heart.

Azriel rise softly at her response, his eyes sparkling with fondness. He gently pressed a kiss to the top of her head before replying, "I know it's cold, but I promise it'll be worth it."

Despite her protests, the Illyrian warrior began to coax her off the bed, his arms encircling her in a firm yet tender embrace, shielding her from the chill. "Trust me, Selaene," he murmured, his voice a low, reassuring rumble against her ear. "Just a few minutes, and then I'll warm you right back up."

"It's a miracle my mother and brother let you spend the night here, let alone let us out!" She says clinging even more tightly to him. But of course his strength outweighs hers, and he manages to shake her off without too much trouble.

"This is going to be fun." Even Selaene's adorable little pout doesn't seem to change his mind, and she stops trying to change his mind and prepares to have to literally freeze to death.

Azriel chuckled again, amused by her stubborn determination to remain ensconced in bed. But her protest, however adorable, was no match for his strength. He gently prised her fingers from his tunic and pulled her to her feet, his large hands warm and comforting against her smaller ones.

"You won't freeze, I promise," he reassured her with a smile, his tone tender yet steadfast. "And think of the view. It'll be worth it, I swear."

"Ugh, fine. You're meanie." The male shakes her hands again before dragging her out of the room with far too heavy steps, forcing Selaene to shush him and warn him of her mother's presence in the house. They both giggle. Despite the cold, the female is delighted with the experiences Azriel is offering her to have: she has always dreamed of teenage love, and never thought it possible because of Rhysand, but instead here she is, sneaking out of the house trying to hold back laughter with the love of her life.

They put on their coats quickly exchanging excited glances from time to time, just like two novice kids. Selaene feels her cheeks heat up under his eyes, but she doesn't mind the feeling. She is extremely careful in opening the front door, and they both hold back a surprised sigh at the colder-than-usual air.

Azriel wrapped an arm around her shoulders once they were outside, drawing her close to his side to share his warmth. The cold air whipped through their hair and stung their skin, but they were both too giddy to care. Selaene glanced up at him, her eyes sparkling with excitement.

"Lead the way, oh fearless illyrian," she teased, her voice light and airy despite the chill. He laughed in response, the sound rich and deep, and began guiding her through the inky darkness towards their destination.

They walk for a couple of minutes, and both have their eyes fixed on the ground, focused on trying not to fall or trip over obstacles hidden by the tall, thick snow. The only audible noises are the crunch of their footsteps and any animals in the Steppes. Selaene looks away from the ground to observe the male beside her. His cheeks are slightly flushed, and the moon accentuates his masculine but elegant features. She wonders how it is possible that such a handsome Fae could at the same time be so brutish and violent as an Illyrian. Azriel looks down at her, noticing her gaze and meeting her eyes. The corner of his mouth quirks up into a small smirk.

"See something you like, sweetheart?" he teases, his voice low and rumbling. Despite the cold, his warmth emanates from him and envelops her like a blanket.

Selaene feels her cheeks burn hotter, but she forces a small huff of indignation, trying to seem unperturbed. "Just wondering how a brute like you can also be so... attractive."

The shadows grow thicker around her body, and she wonders if she said the wrong thing, but then a laugh shakes his shoulders, infecting her as well.

"A brute like me?" He asks with false indignation. The Fae chuckles and feels her cheeks go hot from the poor choice of words she used.

"I mean... such a violent warrior, but so handsome. Ugh, let it go."

Azriel's chuckle deepens at her attempt at saving face. He tightens his grip around her shoulders, pulling her closer against his side.

"So I'm a handsome brute, huh?" he says, his voice a rough, amused drawl. "I'll take that as a compliment."

He glances down at her, his eyes glimmering with mischief, as he says: "But believe me, sweetheart, I can be plenty gentle. When I want to be."

The comment hangs in the air for a long time, the walk returned to silence. A couple of minutes later, Azriel extends a hand to her. Selaene catches the invitation to fly: something that has become habitual between them. It is something that started a short time ago, but it has quickly become one of her favorite things. She's never been a big fan of flying across the Steppes, which are so icy that they leave her wings numb every time, but with Azriel it's an almost romantic activity, and fun beyond manners.

Selaene takes his hand gratefully, the feel of his touch sending a shiver down her spine that has nothing to do with the cold. She braces herself for the familiar stomach-flipping sensation of being lifted from the ground.

As they soar through the night sky, the world below them transformed into a blanket of sparkling snow and endless darkness, she finds herself drawn to the male flying beside her. The way the moonlight dances across his features brings a smile to her face, and she instinctively moves closer to him, reveling in the warmth of his body. She takes a moment to admire the view: the sky was colored with endless shades of green and purple and blue, the colors mixed with the stars.

"You know I'm perfectly capable of flying myself, and you don't have to carry me everywhere?"

Azriel glances down at her, his eyes sparkling with a hint of mischief. "Oh, I know you are," he replies, his voice low and teasing. "But where's the fun in that? I quite like having an excuse to hold onto you."

He shifts his grip on her, his arms tightening around her waist in a possessive gesture. "Besides, you're far too pretty to be flying on your own, sweetheart."

As the conversation gradually falls silent, Selaene allows herself to bask in the warmth generated by Azriel's siphons. The blue, glowing orbs cast a subtle but noticeable amount of heat.

The breeze they produce is surprisingly gentle, gently caressing her skin and providing momentary respite from the damp cold. Even the touch of the shadows, usually cold and menacing, feels almost soothing against her skin.

Before she realizes it, and before she falls sleep in his arms, they land on a rock at the top of a mountain. As soon as the potretion offered by the siphons ceases, a shiver caresses her back, but Azriel is quick and encircles her body with his arms, giving her some of his warmth. The shadows follow their master's actions, dancing alongside their two united figures. Selaene lets out a content sigh as Azriel wraps her in his warm embrace, the shadows dancing lazily around them.

The top of the mountain is barren and stark, save for the faint illumination provided by the moon overhead. Selaene glances up, her eyes catching the celestial body framed by the open expanse of sky. "It's beautiful," she whispers, her voice soft and awed.

Azriel's arms tighten around her, pulling her closer against him. "It is," he murmured, his breath warm against her ear. "But not nearly as beautiful as you."

"Silly," she comments, giving him a playful pat on the arm. She takes a moment to admire the view properly. Being on top of the mountain gives her a view of several villages.

Azriel watches as Selaene turns her gaze to the view before them, her eyes wide with wonder as she takes in the spectacle of the villages far below. In the moonlit night, they look like tiny constellations spread across the earth, sparkling and shimmering in the darkness, adding to the colorful lights that reflect on the white snow.

He allows her a few moments of quiet contemplation, enjoying the weight of her body against his. When she finally turns her gaze back to him, he asks, "What are you thinking, sweetheart?"

Her eyes rest on him from over her shoulder. The moon reflects on his features making it almost magical, the stars in his pupils making him decades younger. It's such an intimate moment, she thinks, with the shadows drawing them together and their bodies clutched to each other. The atmosphere is surreal, it is as if there is ... more in the air. Azriel feels it too, but whatever he is feeling is definitely more intense than Selaene. He suddently opens his eyes wide and backs away, leaving her cold and confused, almost if he just got burned. A thousand paranoia invades her mind. Has she done something wrong?

Selaene's heart flutters nervously as she gazes at him, searching his eyes for any indication of what's going through his mind. She can practically feel the thoughts swirling through her own mind, wondering if she's done something wrong to cause this sudden shift in his behavior.

"Azzie?" She asks in a trembling voice, but her beloved's eyes are distant. She takes a step closer, tries to take his hands in hers, but Azriel flinches as if scalded. He does not meet her eyes, but his face still has a shocked expression, the wrinkles in his forehead deepened. It is as if he is in a trance, and you have no idea how to bring him to reality. His shadows swirl around him agitatedly, out of control. His heart beats extremely fast.

"Azriel, what's wrong?" she asked, her voice trembling. "Please, talk to me. What's going on?"

Only now does he seem to recover, if only slightly. Words escape his lips, but she is unable to comprehend them.

"You're... you're my mate..."

Selaene's heart lurches in her chest at his words. Mate?

Her mind whirls, trying to process the implications of what he's said. She's always heard of Fae mates, the profound connection between two souls destined to be together. But the way he's acting, it's almost as if the realization has hit him like a wave, leaving him disoriented and... scared?

Approaching and bringing a hand to his face, this time Azriel does not seem to retreat. Her heart now beats as fast as his.

Azriel finally seems to snap out of his daze, his eyes focusing on her. He allows her to place a gentle hand on his cheek, the warmth of her touch grounding him in the present.

He let out a shaky breath, the words tumbling out of him in a rush, "I... I don't... when I touched you... I felt... I felt..." He trailed off, his eyes searching hers, filled with a mixture of awe and fear. And love, so full of love, she realizes.

She could see the storm of emotions roiling within him, the confusion and wonder warring against each other.

"I know, I know, Azzie. I-I can feel it too, now." Tears form on her eyes. Azriel's expression morphs from confusion to astonishment in an instant, his gaze locked onto hers. The realization that she can sense their bond too makes it real.

"You... you do?" he whispers, his voice hoarse with emotion. He reaches out tentatively towards her, his fingers tracing the curve of her jaw, as if he's trying to make sure. As the words reach his ears, a myriad of emotions play across Azriel's face - surprise, joy, relief, and a hint of something deeper that he can't yet place.

He takes another step closer to her, his hands now caressing her face, his touch gentle yet firm. He looks into her eyes, as if searching for any trace of a lie, but instead, he finds a mirror of his own feelings staring back at him.

"You...you're my...my mate," he repeats, the words tasting foreign yet right on his tongue.

As the realization fully sinks in, a wave of joy washes over them, settling comfortably in their hearts. The bond between them seems to flare to life, a brilliant light that shines between their souls, and the shadows swirling around them begin dancing in a lively, almost celebratory manner.

Everything suddenly seems to fall into place, as if fate itself had been guiding them towards this very moment. Azriel pulls her closer, his arms encircling her in a tight embrace once more. "Mate" He whisper still in disbelief. He repeats the word, as if testing the way it feels on his tongue. "Mate"

The word hangs in the air between them, imbued with a new weight and significance. He gazes down at Selaene with a mixture of wonder and tenderness, as if seeing her in a whole new light.

"We're...we're mates," he says again, more confidently this time, as if he's finally accepting the truth of it. Selaene laughs, the sound rich and joyful. "Yes, Azzie. Yes, we are. You're my mate." Azriel's expression softens further, the corners of his mouth curving into a genuine, loving smile. He reaches up a hand, cupping her cheek gently, before bringing his forehead to rest against hers.

He closes his eyes, a shuddering breath escaping him, as he absorbs the weight of it all.

"I'm your mate," he repeats as if to himself, the final piece of the puzzle clicking into place, filling a void he didn't know existed until now.

[ssplague]

Benighted Beloved

Chapter two

Masterlist

Warnings: Some Katsuki-esque violence this chapter, that’s all.

Honorable mentions 💌

@lalachanya  @mrsmelaninhood 

@whatdidshesayyy @faemagic88

@viridianhero  @alishii @rv19 

@maggiecc 

✨ 🌙 ✨

“There sat a Crescent Moon on her forehead”

“Here you go, it’s rosehip tea, make sure you drink it while it’s hot, that way you won’t end up with a cold” the man you now know as Midoryia Izuku hands over a steaming mug.

“Thank you so much for your help, I’m new around here…I…well I wasn’t sure where to go…I hope I’m not causing you too much trouble” your voice is quiet compared to the storm beating against the walls outside. The change of clothes he’d given you were soft on your skin, the well worn fabric held a fading lilac scent, as did the quilt set beside you. The hot tea goes down easily, a soothing warmth spreads from your fingers to the tips of your toes. “You aren’t causing me any trouble at all I promise, I had planned on returning to the capital city for the celebration, but I’m sure it was postponed due to this sudden change of weather” the green haired man replied as he adds a couple more logs to the fire burning in the grate.

“Celebration?” You ask, intrigued despite the sleepiness washing over you. Izuku nods as he prods the newly added logs with a poker, “One of my most treasured friends has finally found the one he wants to share his life with, to be honest with you a majority of people never thought he’d marry someone because of his harsh personality but…the few of us that know him well knew that was a lie” he’s smiling again as firelight danced in reflection of his emerald eyes. You had set your now empty cup off to the side, silently stretching out across the couch and snuggling up beneath the warm blanket. Content to sit in silence as your host got caught up in cherished memories, you were sleeping soundly in minutes. Eventually when Midoryia did resurface from memory lane, his face burned red with embarrassment as he realized he’d forgotten you were here with him! “I’m sorry y/n! I spaced out, how rude of me! I was going to tell you that you could rest in the bedroom if you like, I’m fine with the couch-“ Izuku abruptly shuts up when he notices you were asleep.

“She must have been exhausted…poor thing”

Quietly, he tip toes over to grab your empty mug, deciding to fill it with water incase you woke up thirsty. While kneeling down to pick it up, the firelight sparkles across something that draws his eye immediately. 

A crescent moon.

A golden crescent moon, on your forehead…a shaky finger briefly runs across it, that was real, no make up to smudge away.

With wide eyes, the now startled man bolts from his den and into the kitchen.

You! But how?!

Why?!

Oh goddess!

How could you have found your way here?! Weren’t you supposed to be with Kaachan?! Oh no what if you had run away?!

Scarred hands tangled themselves in green curls as he tired to wrap his now frazzled mind around this discovery; Kaachan’s runaway bride being found here in that damn Deku’s study!

I’m a dead man walking!

“It’s gotta be a mistake, it can’t really be her…yeah of course it isn’t her…she’s miles away from here, back in the capital where she’s supposed to be” a chuckle escapes  between his manic muttering as the deflating man lowers himself to the floor. Izuku’s shoulders sag with relief after convincing himself it was a simple case of mistaken identity. Leaning back against the cabinets, his eyes momentarily close and a relieved sigh blows across his chapped lips. Only for them to fly open once more as a loud knock suddenly echoed from the front door of the cabin, making the alchemist yelp in response.

Getting to his now shaking legs, he peeks down the hall and listens for any sign you had woken up.

Silence follows, only to be disturbed by the now continuous knocking.

Forcing one foot infront of the other until he stands at the door, the terrified man forces himself to open it. The happy face of Kirishima greets him, “Hey there Midoryia! Sorry to just drop in on ya like this, thank goodness you weren’t back at the capital already”.

“Are you gonna let us in? It’s fucking pouring out here dammit!”

Bakugou’s snarling voice puts the fear of god into Izuku as he jumps aside to let the two soaked men in.

“Oh uh hey there Kaachan, Kirishima…what brings you two out here? Thought you’d be back at the castle, you know…to celebrate-“

“Ain’t nothing to fucking celebrate”

Yep, he’s most definitely a dead man.

Katsuki wrings out his cape on the doorstep before slamming the door shut, just as he does so, Izuku returns with a couple towels he’d grabbed from the linen closet.

“Thanks man” says Ejiro, flashing fangs with a smile “That storm hit outta nowhere as we were flying back, his majesty over here insisted we keep flying through it, until he almost got his wing zapped that is”.

The aforementioned male didn’t reply to the jab taken at him as he dried his hair off. The other two men looked at each other, the green haired male looking at the red head with evident confusion on his face. “He’s pretty upset”mouthed Kirishima and Midoryia gulps silently before nodding.

“I wanna hang my cape up in front of the fire” the blonde mumbles, noticing the lack there of in the front room’s grate.

“Sure! Let me just grab some of the wood I have in my den!” Izuku exclaims a little too excitedly as he spins on his heel.

“Nah man you don’t gotta do all that, we can just use the one you have going already, right Bakugou?”.

“Oh no it’s okay, I don’t m-“

Deku’s panicked response is drowned out by a gruff “Sure, what the fuck ever, I just want to warm up”. 

The angry Royal starts moving towards the short hallway, and immediately finds his way blocked by the much smaller man, “Really Kaachan, it’s no trouble! We can make a much bigger fire out here, the one in the den can only be small because of all my flammable materials-“.

“Oh shut it would you!” Growls the already frustrated monarch, “Otherwise there will be a far greater threat to your stupid materials than a goddamn fireplace”. After the threat had been made, Katsuki makes to move past the annoying bastard blocking his path. Only for said bastard to side step, effectively blocking his way again. Izuku internally cringes at the sudden ire that lights up in the hellfire eyes glaring daggers at him. Even Kirishima fights off the urge to shudder as the energy inside the cabin shifts drastically.

“Get.out.of.my.way.Deku” the bigger man’s intimidating voice starts off quietly.

“Listen Kaachan-“ the smaller man at least tries to reason with the other, but is cut off.

“You’re acting real fucking brazen nerd, too bad that today really was the wrong day for you to grow a pair” taking a step closer Bakugou puffs out his chest as he sneers down at Deku.

“Look it was an accident really, I didn’t know! I-“ a startled cry escapes the green haired man as a sparking fist takes hold of his shirt collar.

“What the fuck are you talking about? You don’t know shit! Oh I get it…You think its funny don’t you? Funny that she ran away afraid of me?! Go ahead and laugh! GO AHEAD AND LAUGH I FUCKING DARE YOU!” Snarls shifted into screams as the dragon shifter lifts his prey off it’s feet. The tight fisted grip singed the fabric of the shirt it held. Just as Kirishima springs into action to separate his friends, fast footsteps come racing from down the hall. They were immediately followed by a frightened, but still demanding, feminine sounding shriek, “STOP!!!”.  

All three men froze, each set of their respective eyes moving to locate the source of the shout. It didn’t take long for them to all locate you, half your body still hidden in shadow of the dark hallway.

A/N: I know this was short, but I still have two full chapters already finished (& much longer) and one partially completed 🥰 All the praise I received over the story this far is incredible & always deeply appreciated ❤️‍🔥

[erroryeswifi]

Yay! Thank you for responding to my last ask :) I absolutely love the family (Steve, Larry and Rob) Can I know your Mr. Small or Robert headcanons too?

Oughh This one’s pretty long, so once again putting it under a cut ⬇️

(Like last time, if u don’t care abt me yapping there’s some drawings down there too haha)

• Mr Small likes anime and cosplay.

The biggest reason for this is his cosplay of Sailor Moon in “The Ghouls” episode. But along with cosplay I feel like he just likes to dress up in general. He has a surprisingly large amount of outfits throughout the series like: The honesty bear (The sock), Criminal Bozo fit (The allergie), Classic Hippie fit (The Silence), The Small hours music video fits (The Singing) and a couple more that he wears frequently like his rollerblading fit and his meditation fit. And those are just the ones that come to my head first, there’s definitely more in the show I think. He also has a bunch of outfits in the comics but I haven’t read those (yet. I really want them)

Similarly Larry does the same thing actually. Although, it makes more sense for him since he does it specifically for work reasons (And we see him so much more often). The thing is about Larry’s outfits is that I think are especially cute is that he dresses up for his role (specifically as a stereotypical worker you’d expect to see in whichever store he’s in) even if there isn’t a specific uniform. I’ve made a post about this before right here. Basically something I noticed is that he puts on temporary tattoos for a few of his jobs, not to mention he literally put on a fake gotee for his barber outfit. I like to think Larry is too busy to have his own hobbies but he accidentally adopted dressing up and he thoroughly enjoys it, even if he’s not exactly aware that he’s doing it.

• Rob takes both of Larry and Steve’s last names after being adopted.

I’ve thought for a long time which last name was gonna be their family last name but I was sooo hung up about it cuz both Larry and Mr Small’s last names are pretty important to their work. Larry is known all over town for being “Larry Needlemeyer” so it would be a pain to get that changed for him and be bad for his publicity as a well known worker. As for Mr Small he’s literally a teacher, everyone at his workspace adresses him by last name so it would be strange for him to change names as well. Basically what I’ve settled with for now is that they would share a hyphenated last name. So Mr Small’s would be “Steven Needlemeyer-Small” and Larry’s would be “Laurence Needlemeyer-Small”. This same thing would apply for Rob with him being “Rob Needlemeyer-Small”. I feel like this would be the best way for them to share a family name while staying consistent and least confusing. Plus it won’t affect neither Steve’s or Larry’s jobs all that much.

• Rob has a million nicknames

We all know the gag about Rob being called different names. I think it would be fun if when Larry and/or Steve calls for him (whether they need help or he’s in trouble) they call him by different variations of “Rob” like: Robert, Robbie, Roberto etc… I think his legal name would be still be just “Rob” tho, there’s really no reason for it to be anything else as that’s the name he remembers after getting out of the void.

• Mr Small is really bad at relationships

The thing about Mr Small his the he is one of the few middle aged adults in the show without a spouse or family members at all. Almost all of the middle aged adults in the show are the same age, we know this because they all went to school together but most importantly because they all went to prom together. My point is, almost all of the people he went to school with are either married, dating someone or have children of their own. Meanwhile he is single, no known family and doesn’t seem to have many friends outside of work. We even see him talking to Mr Corneille about his struggles online dating (The Wish), admittedly he wasn’t on a dating website but rather a pizza delivery app but that even further shows how he’s not super good with social queues and close relationships as he couldn’t tell the difference.

To contrast Mr Small, Larry is super good with people interactions. Obviously, with his work he needs to be. But as far as romantic relationship go, I think he’d be a very stereotypical good boyfriend type. Where he’d take his dates to nice restaurants, buy them flowers or go for walks. He likes things simple and classic.

• Rob likes video games

Idk I don’t really have a reason for this one. I think he’d constantly play Super Smash Bros on a Nintendo switch he was gifted for Christmas or smth lmaoo. The idea of him ragging online is very funny to me, especially if it’s stupid simple kids games where there isn’t much brain power to do them. He’d stream “Playing Fireboy and Water girl by myself!” if Larry let him.

Okay that’s already too much writing for one post, but if you wanna know more feel free to ask for it! ❤️

(I may not answer right away, but I appreciate the asks really!)

[echoes-in-echoclan]

CLOSED!! 400+ Follower Raffle!

!!! This raffle is now closed! Thank you to everyone that entered, results will be given out soon !!!

Hey everyone! In celebration of getting 400+ followers, I decided to host a raffle!

In the far off land of Moon 44, there is an important part that needs to be filled! This cat is an apprentice that appears for the duration of the moon (which will be multiple parts!), and will be interacting with the rest of the Clan in some big ways! So I'm giving you guys the chance to submit your own characters to be this mystery apprentice!

How to enter/rules:

You must be following me to enter! To enter, reblog this post with a picture of the character you want me to draw! The character you enter must be a cat or a character you are okay with me turning into a cat! If the cat has unnatural fur coloring (like neon fur, sparkle cat colors) then I will change the fur to be natural colors for the sake of continuity! Please try keeping it to one entry per person! I want it to be fair for everyone! If you enter from a side blog please link your main blog! The raffle will end on March 13th!! Results will be announced shortly after!

Prizes:

1st place: Your character appears in Moon 44, one fullbody artwork

2nd place: one fullbody artwork

3rd place: one bust artwork

4th & 5th place: one headshot artwork

^ Each of these will be with the character you enter through your reblog!

Once again, the raffle ends on March 13th!!

Good luck everyone! Feel free to ask questions and I will do my best to answer!

[uranium-bender]

The idea of azula and yue travelling constantly and surviving on the land is many things but mainly funny.

Both of these 2 are princesses, young girls who have spent their entire life in luxury and wealth, and now they have to survive living in the wilderness with no money or servants or experience. The only thing they’ve got is yue’s spiritness azula’s bending. They would complain and whine as much as they want but It’s not like anything would change because of that’s since they’re not around anyone to follow their wishes and commands, and then again azula is too prideful to act too much like a child and yue put herself in this situation so she can’t complain that much.

We already know azula is strategic and tactical so she would try to plan and micromanage every aspect of their travels, but nature isn’t like that, there are always gonna be surprises and unplanned factors playing in, I think that would help azula deal with her obsession of perfection and control.

Being with yue, a spirit, especially an important one like the moon spirit, helps. Animals and plants are gentler with her since spirits are more in tuned with nature. They tend to find good spots for camping and more than once animals help yue and subsequently azula find food and so. If their sailing or on water, it would be even easier, since the moon controls the tides.

They still have to assign chores: yue hunts, especially for sea food. Azula uses her fire to cook. Yue can identify the non poisonous plants and read the stars, and azula plans their trips in the most efficient way so the least time and energy is wasted as possible.

They still have to cross civilisation, towns and villages, for supplies and shelter during harsh weather and so. Yue handles most of the the socialising and people handling because, number one, she’s not as socially inept during non-conflict as azula, and number two, there’s a risk of them recognising azula, the fugitive fire nation princess. They’d need an alias and coverup story, so most of the time they just say they’re wives and they’re travelling together, since they’re too different to be relatives and saying their just friends undermine the value of their companionship (neither of them faced her feeling for the other and so both are in constant denial).

They probably participate in peasant activities as to not draw too much attention. So maybe they’ll go dancing during parties, and play games during festivals, basically just having fun. If they interacted with the other villagers for more than necessary it would either be comedic as they lie about their true selves as much as they can, or fuel a jealousy dynamic between them if either one was, or had a woman be, too friendly. I imagine they’re both very possessive and territorial of each other.

They can’t stay too long though, not longer than a week, they always leave at the end.

I can’t imagine their travels as completely peaceful. Even if fire nation soldiers aren’t looking for her to put her back in prison/asylum, azula has a lot of enemies in all the nations due to her status and also her actions. What if they come across a group targeting azula specifically, so now there’s another stake in their mission (which is literally just her staying alive). Cue to azula and yue training together. Azula teaching yue what she knows to the point yue’s waterbending look and behave more like firebending, and azula begin to do the same and take waterbending inspiration in her firebending. I’m thinking of ways they can combine their respective combat styles and be more efficient in battle, like yue covering a lot of opponents in water so azula can electrify them all at once. A lot of combination like that. They’d be an epic fighting duo.

But still the majority of their travels are filled with peaceful and domestic days. Yue cuddling azula for warmth in their joined tent, them stargazing and cloudgazing while they lay atop the grass. Telling each other their deepest secrets and wishes and childhood stories under the cover of the night while no one else hears them but each other and the sky. They grow impossibly closer to each other. Yue would panic and sweat and heave breath and have her body shake and tremor all over in terror if azula is away for more than usual, and of course, vice versa. They’re so in love, and they don’t even know it yet.

[casasupernovas]

thing is.

the doctor in series 3 is a lot more complex people give him credit for.

when he gets mad at martha at the end of 'smith and jones' it's not because he's offended at her flirting, annoyed at her insinuations, 'how dare she'. no. he's mad because she sussed him out, right down to the blue suit.

in 'smith and jones' the doctor has a clean slate, he has reinvented himself. and this version has no baggage.

this doctor hasn't got a brown suit it's blue, this doctor is flirtaious, romantic, even does the 'honourable' thing of making sure she knows the kiss he will give her means nothing. she won't get attatched that way when he sacrifices himself to draw out the plasmavore.

but this doctor is also a bit callous, he's excited by the thrill and danger, dimissing very real distress from people around him in favour for the facts. he only pulls himself back upon his conversation with martha.

in fact, it's no coincidence the kiss happens after martha commemorates the dead, her old mentor.

the problem is however, martha is too clever, too observant, too confident to completely be won over by this entirely. when he tells her he is the doctor, just the doctor, at first she refuses to call him by this. he has to earn it. sonic screwdriver? lol, got an electric spanner too? she asks if he has help because surely he didn't come to this hospital because he thought something was wrong on his own?

that's why he says stuff like this. he's like why are you poking holes in the illusion. i'm *this* person now, don't take me back to my reality.

but he's not quite done. they both could have died on the moon but she saves his life so, he gets another chance. incomes the reinvented doctor part two. [you can argue the doctor always knew they would make it because martha told him she saw him in a moment that had happened for her but not yet for him.]

so part 2 commences but he's turning it all the way up because he wants her as his companion.

so he's smooth talking her, but even then she's still not letting him get one over on her. "not pompous at all." so better turn it up some more, and he time travels, a 'cheap trick' to impress her more.

until his newly formed version of himself gets a hole poked in once again after martha inadvertantly makes him remember rose. and he clams up, decides it will only be one trip in a pretty aloof, defensive and abrupt way. shuts down any path that could lead to something more, testing to see if she can do the same - "i only go for humans" - she can and away we go. he's racing about the tardis back to semi-normal and they are off.

it's why he's so having mood swings all throughout 'the shakespeare code,' flip flopping between annoyance and dismissal at her questions, she's ruining how it was supposed to go in his head. she wasn't supposed to ask *this* many questions, she was just supposed to be impressed. but she went and reminded me of rose so this can't work now, it's gonna be one trip. but then flipping back to this need to impress and to just fall back into step to how they were, running around and having an adventure. how he's supposed to be.

and he decides i don't want this to end. im extending the trip. but yet again martha pokes another hole - his home. but the doctor holds onto the pretense for as long as he can. he doesn't just say "we can't go to my home and please don't ask me why because it's painful." he just lies. and this pretense now takes on a new form, because it directly references rose with choosing new earth. see, he starts by reminiscing on gallifrey when he describes it to her then chooses someone else to reminisce on. rose. all with little regard to how martha would feel about being used in this way. but unfortunately for the doctor, this takes a dramatic change for the worse as taking martha here directly leads to her abduction.

now, despite martha's olive branch after the death of the face of boe, the doctor still doesn't tell her the truth. until she sits down, and really hones in on his lies and the people of new new york began to sing for the dead. and the doctor looks at martha, the human, listening to the humans commeorate the dead. and tells her the truth. that he lied because he liked it. because he could pretend. pretend that his reality was not true. he was not the last timelord.

intriguingly enough, by the time we get to the lazarus experiment, the doctor seems determined to play out how the story was supposed to go. yet again disregarding martha's feelings. find a new companion. travel for a bit, then bring her home safe and sound. and not one year later. no ties, a nice thanks then goodbye. no heartbreak, no tears. but he comes back. because he doesn't want it to end yet, offers her another trip. and here goes martha again. telling him he needs to be clear in what he wants right now. he's not someone who can just breeze in and out of her life without a second thought. is she his companion or is she a passenger?

and the pretense is over. mostly anyway, and the doctor is at his mlst vulnerable due to the circumstances of '42' and by its end, it's like a refreshed smith and jones.

but now he doesn't feel the need to lie, he's not fully there yet. but he's more comfortable, he doesn't need to pretend.

perhaps too comfortable.

[ashwii]

Celestial AU FAQ

Usually I prefer pinning my favorite artworks to the top of my profile, but over the last couple weeks I've gotten MANY repeat questions about my rottmnt celestial AU. I never mind answering questions, but I want to limit how many asks I answer to keep everyone else's dashboard's in mind [i.e. I don't want to clog up other people's tumblr with several asks that have been answered in the past.]

Below is a list of general frequently asked questions regarding my celestial au. Even more detailed information and questions can be found in the "#celestialFAQ" tag on my blog.

What is the Celestial AU?

It's a ROTTMNT au where Leo, Donnie, Raph, and Mikey embody celetial bodies. Leo embodies the stars, Donnie embodies the Moon, Raph embodies the Sun, and Mikey embodies the comets.

Can you tell us more about what they are?

Leo is the stars — he overlooks the stars as a guardian figure. While he thinks of his stars as his children, he is also an embodiment of the stars — he IS the stars. They are one and the same.

The same goes for Mikey and his comets. Although, while Mikey specifically embodies and overlooks the comets, he also overlooks all them zippy lil' things in the galaxy [meteors, asteroids, etc.]

Donnie and Raph are a little different — Donnie specifically ONLY embodies Earth's moon, and is the overlooker of all the other moons in the universe. The same goes for Raph and Earth's Sun.

Are there any other characters in this AU [Splinter, April, Drax, Krang, etc]?

[As of writing this] The only other characters in this AU are April [an astronaut who works for NASA / an aspiring astronaut], and S.H.E.L.D.O.N. [a robot made of lost junk and lost space tech that Donnie found]. I do not plan for there to be any other characters in this au, as I mainly want to draw and focus on the turtles.

There have been lots of fun headcanons in the askbox about who else could be in the au and what they would embody, and I think that's great! I love all the fanart and creativity everyone is doing for this AU, I will never be mad at exploring fun ideas [I've even doodled some of these ideas for fun] — as for what is "canon" in the AU though, at the moment I'm going to keep it as the turtles, April, and S.H.E.L.D.O.N.

What's the lore behind this AU?

There is no real lore behind this AU, just a bunch of fun ideas in a fun concept. Lots of other people have had fun coming up with their own lore and ideas for this AU, and once again, I think that's great! There's so many ideas other people came up with that I love — but again, in terms of "canon" and what I'm willing to draw, there's no legitimate lore for this AU.

The Sun is also a star. Does that mean Sun!Raph has a special relation to Star!Leo in some way?

Yes! Leo and Raph have a very strong special connection in this AU because of this.

Do the celestials control what they embody?

Control isn't exactly the right word — say for Star!Leo, for example, he's more of a guardian figure to the stars. "Control" implies that the stars have no personality of their own whatsoever, but that's not exactly true. They almost have their own little life to them — like a healthy tree —that Leo can understand since the stars and Leo are one in the same.

What are Moon!Donnie's alternate phases?

Moon!Donnie's alters are Blood Moon, Harvest Moon, Blue Moon, and Super Moon. Moon!Donnie's design also changes some depending on the phase of the Moon [eg. During the Full Moon phase, Donnie has no shadow up his arms and legs. During the New Moon phase, Donnie is all encompassed in shadow].

Is there any more info about these phases?

During Donnie's Blood Moon phase, he tends to be a little more mischievous and violent. He's ready to kill, no questions asked.

During his Blue Moon phase, he's a little sadder than usual. He's not breaking down every minute or endlessly sobbing — he's more just a little blue (heh) and the unending river of tears just comes with the phase. He just needs some cuddles and comfort during this time <3

Harvest Moon Donnie is a happy lil guy! He's a little chipper and cuddly during this time, hapoy to help and talk with his brothers on end.

These phases don't COMPLETELY change his personality — he still the same Donnie, but just with little changes to his overall mood.

There are many more types/names for the Moon [Snow Moon, Worm Moon, Flower Moon, etc.] — will you be drawing those as designs for Moon!Donnie as well?

While I think I may sketch out some of them for fun, in terms of "canon" to the AU, I want to keep it limited to what I listed above in the previous question.

Are there any alternate versions of the other celestials?

Sun!Raph gets sun flares when he's upset, and I have a Nova!Leo design in the works. I haven't thought of any alternate versions for Comet!Mikey, but I don't think he needs one, haha.

What happens during an eclipse?

During a solar eclipse, Raph gives Donnie a hug from behind. During a lunar eclipse, I like to imagine that Donnie is hiding behind the earth because he ticked Raph off.

Can Star!Leo feel it when any stars die?

Yes, he does. I explained in much more detail in the "#celestialFAQ" tag, but when his stars die, it hurts him some emotionally and physically.

Whenever the Sun [Raph] would explode in the future, Star!Leo will be out of commission for a while because of how much it would hurt him.

What is Star!Leo's relationship with the stars?

Leo is the stars, point blank. He is the personification of them. He's all the stars, he is them, they are he. One and the same. BUT there's also a special relationship there — Leo looks at the stars like they're his children, almost. A very deep connection and love. The stars feel that deep love for Leo too, they see him as almost a guardian figure. They love him more than anything, and Leo knows that.

Now HOW can the idea that Leo looks at the stars like they're his children, and the idea that Leo is just straight up the personification of the stars (him being all of the stars) both be true at the same time? Ah — no real answer there. It just kind of is, and it's more of a feeling that I myself have. That's just the way that I personally feel Leo's relationship with the stars is, even if I'm never able to describe it quite perfectly, and even if it's confusing to everyone else lmao.

Do the celestial turtles still have their weapons like the canon turtles?

Yes they do — Star!Leo has katanas made of constellations, Moon!Donnie has his staff made of shadow, Sun!Raph's fists fire up, and Comet!Mikey's comets and meteors spin around him and he can shoot them where he pleased.

Is this AU meant to be accurate about how astrology and space works?

Not at all — there are a lot of inaccuracies in this AU. But what's the fun of making an au like this if I have to keep everything pinpoint accurate! This AU is for good, fun vibes, and it's ok if not everything matches up with exactly how space works.

Can I make fanart/fanfics for this au?

Yes, you can! If you do, please tag me and lmk, I'd absolutely love to see what you guys make. Oc's and fan characters are welcome as well.

[idlebeks]

A few more SVSSS recs for the pile

right from the start, I gave you my heart by nex_et_nox

"Bro, you know how many words I wrote per day, and how many plants I created!” Shang Qinghua whines. "I can't remember them all, it's impossible."

Shen Qingqiu narrows his eyes. "It was used with Wife #418.”

"That doesn't narrow it down any further. I'm not going to be able to guess it, so stop punishing me and just tell me how the flower nerfed you."

Shen Qingqiu grits his teeth. Obviously he wants to draw this out to punish Shang Qinghua, but it kinda looks more like he's punishing himself. There's a muscle flexing in his jaw, and if he puts any more pressure on his fan's guard, it's going to snap. Uh, actually, Shen Qingqiu kind of looks like he's in pain—

“A false dragonhead is also called an obedient plant. It’s in the name—the flower forces you to do whatever you're told," Shen Qingqiu spits out.

or: Shen Qingqiu runs afoul of one of Airplane's stupid wife-plot devices...just before a mission to Jinlan City.

stuffed with fluff (and blood and bones and rage) by nyoomerr

Ever since he was pushed into the Abyss, Luo Binghe has been dreaming of a strange world. In it, Luo Binghe's own face is everywhere, and his story is written out in humiliating detail for some stupid twink to read about. Luo Binghe hates the story, and he hates the dream realm, and he hates the godling within it - Shen Yuan - most of all.

Unfortunately, Luo Binghe can't do anything about it - within these dreams, Luo Binghe is stuck within the body of a doll.

second-hand alibis by nex_et_nox

“All right. I’m in Proud Immortal Demon Way," he says, once he's had a chance to compose himself again. He sits back up, tossing his stupidly long hair back over his shoulders where it belongs; he is totally calm and ready to grill the System for more information.  "Who am I supposed to be?"

Please please please don't let it be someone who Bingge violently murders.

Though given the fact that he's a man in PIDW, his chances are already skewed, and not in his favor. Ugh.

[Bound Role: Shen Yuan, Rogue Cultivator. Weapon: the sword Heng Li. Starting B-points: 100.]

or: Shen Yuan transmigrates as a rogue cultivator, one completely unconnected to any canon characters or events. Right, System? Right?

Type Casting by pallas_rose

Shang Qinghua’s fertilizer has unexpected effects on the mushroom body. In addition to... that, Shen Qingqiu doesn’t remember his death. Or anything at all after planting the Sun Moon Dew Mushroom seed in the dirt.

But he doesn’t need to, right? Shen Qingqiu knows PIDW and Luo Bing-ge like the back of his hand. He’ll be fine. He just has to avoid getting noticed—you know what happens to beautiful women in PIDW!

…though would life in the harem be so bad?

says the shadow by tciddaemina

Luo Binghe wakes up to the heavy, suffocating feeling that something is wrong.

His back aches, sleeping on the floor of the woodshed has left him stiff and sore, and yet all the pain and agony of his latest caning fades into inconsequentiality, washed away in the face of the sheer, suffocating, heavy dread pressing down on his shoulders. It steals the oxygen from the air, swelling to fill every inch of the room, the pressure crushing.

His eyes open too quickly, and he scrambles up, heart pounding in his throat, head snapping towards the door of the shed. There's a knot in his throat, thick, and he struggles to swallow around it, throat suddenly dry.

The woodshed looks as it always has. Nothing has changed.

Everything has changed.

-

Luo Binghe's shizun has a qi deviation and the thing left afterwards isn't Shen Qingqiu.

Shen Yuan's School for Unrepentant Assholes by TGP

Shen Yuan has been dealt a rough hand at the beginning of his life. Then he gets sort of adopted by Shen Qingqiu, who desperately needs someone to help smooth out his interpersonal relationships. Thankfully, Shen Yuan is awesome at understanding people and what they want!

Shen Qingqiu can't decide if he regrets claiming this chaos gremlin as his own or not, but now that Shen Yuan is here, he's never letting him go. He'll have to be pried out of Shen Qingqiu's cold, dead fingers first.

Meanwhile, Luo Binghe is just caught up in the wake of both of them and trying not to be dragged under.

(Or, a drama of errors with comedic moments, exploring the growing relationship between an unforgiving misanthrope with serious issues and a traumatized kid that just wants to teach him what family means (and maybe learn it, himself))

dreaming you the same sun in a different place by JRaylin441

[Activating: Bonus Chapter – In Another Life]

[We notice that you are searching for someone. Would you like to accept the bonus chapter mission In Another Life in order to reunite with User: Shen Yuan, Bound Role: Shen Qingqiu?]

Shen Qingqiu disappears. Luo Binghe isn't going to let that stand.

Written for a Gotcha for Gaza prompt "Luo Binghe sucking Shen Yuan's dick (any dynamic)" from an anonymous prompter

[mossclan-moons]

WE'VE GOT OUR FIRST OTTERLING WARRIOR CEREMONY

First page

Previous | next

Couple of extra notes under the cut :3

Once again, thank you to @littlebloomclan for the inspo for the ear/eye/mouth color coordination! Coloring is a super tedious process and this has made the process that much faster for me.

Speaking of designs, I'll be making proper references for Otter, Shine, and the Otterlings. Some minor design changes might happen to make them easier to draw consistently!

I'll be playing around with formatting as well-- if you have any concerns or suggestions, feel free to shoot em my way! I wanna make sure everything is legible and flows well.

So excited to be sharing Moss Clan with you guys again!! Stagspots graduated a moon early and was honored for her wit. As she should be!

Fun production fact, the first two panels of the page are meant to be a sort of parallel to Moon 0. Things have changed a lot since I've uploaded that page!