#and HIS FACE when he sang was transcendent
Text
your smile.
words・ 2.9k /pairings・ Bang Chan x reader / genres・ fluff / warnings・ none
Karaoke ver.
As the night progressed and the karaoke session entered its peak, Chan's energy seemed to escalate. With a mischievous glint in his eyes, he scrolled through the song list until he found it—Bruno Mars's signature tune, "Just the Way You Are."
A grin spread across Chan's face as he looked over at you, excitement dancing in his gaze. "Hey, guess what I'm going to sing next?"
You chuckled, already anticipating the song choice. "Let me guess, 'Just the Way You Are' by Bruno Mars?"
Chan's grin widened as he nodded enthusiastically. "You got it! It's my signature song, after all."
As the familiar melody filled the room, Chan's voice resonated with passion and emotion, capturing the essence of the heartfelt lyrics. With each note, his voice soared, carrying the sincerity and warmth of the song's message.
As Chan sang each part of the song, his eyes remained fixed on you, his voice carrying the weight of every heartfelt word.
"Her eyes, her eyes," he crooned, his gaze softening as he emphasized each syllable, "Make the stars look like they're not shinin'."
With each line, Chan's voice echoed with sincerity, his gaze never wavering as he continued, "Her hair, her hair, Falls perfectly without her tryin'."
As he sang his eyes seemed to convey a depth of emotion that resonated with the lyrics. "She's so beautiful, and I tell her every day," he sang, his voice filled with tenderness and affection.
But it was in the chorus that his gaze held the most intensity, as if every word was a silent declaration meant just for you. "When I see your face, There's not a thing that I would change," he sang, his eyes locked on yours, "Cause you're amazing, Just the way you are."
With a grateful smile and a nod of appreciation to the neon lights that had inadvertently concealed your blush, you leaned back, savoring the precious moments of your friendship with him.
As the final strains of the song melted into the air, Chan's gaze lingered, his eyes filled with an intensity that seemed to transcend the music. The room fell silent, as Chan hesitated, a flicker of emotion crossing his features.
Unable to contain the feelings that surged within him, Chan took a deep breath, his voice soft yet filled with conviction. "I... I couldn't hold it anymore," he admitted, his words carrying a weight of vulnerability.
With a tremor in his voice, Chan continued, his eyes never wavering from yours. "I know we've been through so much together, and... and I just need to say..." His words trailed off, lost in the intensity of the moment.
A swell of emotion rose within you, your heart pounding with anticipation. In the hush of the room, you could feel the weight of Chan's words hanging in the air, poised on the precipice of revelation.
And then, in a moment of clarity and courage, Chan spoke from the depths of his heart. "I care about you more than words can say. You mean everything to me, and I just needed you to know… I adore you"
In the intimate confines of the karaoke room, with the neon lights casting a soft glow around you, Chan's confession hung in the air like a delicate melody waiting to be embraced. The world outside faded away, leaving only the two of you, suspended in a moment of vulnerability and truth.
The tension between you intensified, the air crackling with unspoken emotion. And then, as if guided by an invisible force, you rose from your seat, drawn inexorably closer to him.
With each step, your heart pounded in your chest, the rhythm of anticipation matching the tempo of your shared desire. As you closed the distance between you, Chan's words faded into the background, replaced by the magnetic pull of your connection.
Gently, almost instinctively, you reached out, cupping Chan's face in your trembling hands. His gaze met yours, a flicker of vulnerability dancing in the depths of his eyes, mirroring the emotions that swirled within your own soul.
And then, without hesitation, you closed the remaining space between you, pressing your lips to his in a tender, passionate kiss. In that moment, the world fell away, leaving only the intoxicating sweetness of your shared embrace.
As your lips met, a surge of electricity coursed through your veins, igniting a fire that burned with an intensity you had never known. Chan responded in kind, his arms encircling you, drawing you closer until there was no space left between you.
In that timeless moment, the karaoke room faded into oblivion, its neon lights dimming in comparison to the brilliance of your love. The microphone slipped from Chan's grasp, forgotten amidst the overwhelming tide of emotion that consumed you.
Leaning back, breathless from the intensity of the moment, you whispered softly, "I adore you too," your words carrying the weight of sincerity and affection. With a tender smile, you closed the distance between you once more, sealing your declaration with another sweet kiss.
In that fleeting exchange, the depth of your emotions echoed in the gentle brush of your lips, a silent promise of devotion. It was a moment suspended in time, a testament to the bond that had blossomed between you and Chan, transcending words and defying explanation.
As you lingered in each other's embrace, the world outside faded away, leaving only the warmth of your shared affection to light the way forward.
His bedroom ver.
As Chan leaned back against a pile of pillows, he glanced at the ceiling, lost in thought. "So, what's been going on with you lately?"
You shrugged, propping yourself up on your elbows. "Oh, you know, the usual. Work, trying to find some time to relax in between."
He nodded, understandingly. "Yeah, it's been pretty hectic with the group too. We've got that comeback showcase next week, and then we're off to Japan for a mini-tour."
"That sounds intense," you remarked, fiddling with a loose thread on the carpet. "But exciting, too. I can't wait to see how everything turns out."
Chan grinned, his eyes lighting up. "Yeah, it's definitely going to be an adventure. By the way, have you heard about the new song we've been working on? It's going to blow everyone away."
You chuckled. "You say that about every song you guys make, but somehow, you always manage to deliver."
He laughed, running a hand through his hair. "Hey, you gotta have confidence, right?"
"Absolutely," you agreed, a smile playing at the corners of your lips. "Confidence is key."
"So, any exciting plans for after the tour?" you asked, breaking the silence.
Chan stretched his arms out above his head, considering your question. "Not really sure yet. Probably just some downtime with the members, catching up on sleep, maybe binge-watching a few shows."
"That sounds like a perfect way to recharge," you said, nodding in agreement. "You guys definitely deserve it after all the hard work."
He smiled gratefully. "Thanks. What about you? Any fun activities or trips planned?"
You shook your head. "Not really. Just hoping to catch up on some reading and maybe take a short trip to the countryside for some fresh air."
"That sounds nice," Chan said, his eyes brightening with enthusiasm. "Sometimes, the simplest things can be the most refreshing."
You smiled, appreciating his outlook on life. "Definitely. It's all about finding those little moments of peace and contentment."
As the conversation continued to flow effortlessly between the two of you, you couldn't help but feel grateful for Chan's friendship and the moments of calmness he brought into your life, even amidst the chaos of his own.
The comfortable silence enveloped you both, punctuated only by the soft tapping of fingers on screens as you scrolled through your phones. It was a familiar scene, one you had shared many times before.
You couldn't help but notice the peacefulness of the moment, contrasting with the lively chaos that often surrounded Chan and his fellow members.
You glanced over at Chan, his brow furrowed in concentration as he navigated through messages and notifications.
Despite the tranquility of the moment, you knew that silence wasn't something he often experienced, especially with his energetic bandmates always around.
As the minutes passed, the silence remained unbroken, yet the connection between you and Chan only grew stronger, a silent acknowledgment of the bond you shared.
And in that moment, surrounded by stillness, you felt grateful for the simple pleasure of each other's company.
You chuckled as you scrolled through TikTok, watching people confessing their feelings to each other in creative ways. Turning to Chan, you posed a playful question, "Hey, if you were to confess to someone, would you do it by singing a song?"
Chan looked up from his phone, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "Hmm, that's an interesting idea. I suppose it depends on the person and the situation."
You raised an eyebrow, intrigued by his response. "Oh? So, you're saying there's a chance you might serenade someone?"
He laughed, running a hand through his hair. "I mean, I'm not ruling it out. Singing can be a powerful way to express your feelings, you know?"
"True," you nodded, thinking about the heartfelt emotions that music could convey. "It could definitely leave a lasting impression."
Chan grinned, his eyes twinkling with amusement. "Who knows, maybe one day you'll see me on TikTok, belting out a love song for someone special."
You chuckled, imagining Chan's smooth vocals serenading an unsuspecting recipient. "I'll keep an eye out for that, then."
As the conversation veered into playful banter, you couldn't help but appreciate Chan's lighthearted demeanor and his willingness to embrace romantic gestures, even if they involved a bit of singing.
Feeling Chan's gaze lingering on you, you tried to focus on your phone screen, scrolling through the endless stream of content. Despite the silence between you, his presence felt palpable, a gentle weight in the room.
Trying to maintain your composure, you pretended to be engrossed in whatever was on your phone, hoping to deflect any attention his way. But deep down, you couldn't help but wonder what was on his mind, what thoughts were swirling behind those piercing eyes.
The seconds ticked by, each one filled with an unspoken tension that hung in the air. You could feel the urge to look up, to meet his gaze, but something held you back, a fear of what you might find there.
In the quiet of the room, the only sound was the soft hum of the air conditioner, a steady rhythm that underscored the awkwardness of the moment. It was as if time itself had slowed down, stretching the silence into an eternity.
Finally, unable to bear the weight of the unspoken, you mustered the courage to glance up, meeting Chan's eyes with a hesitant smile. And in that fleeting moment, you found solace in the familiarity of his gaze, a silent understanding that bridged the distance between you.
With a shared small smile, the tension dissipated, replaced by a sense of ease that washed over you like a gentle tide. And as you returned to your phone, the silence no longer felt suffocating, but comforting, a reminder of the unspoken bond that bound you and Chan together.
As you thought silence would continue, Chan's melodic voice filled the room, softly crooning the lyrics of "Just the Way You Are" by Bruno Mars, you felt a rush of warmth spread through you. His gentle rendition of the song enveloped you like a soothing embrace, drawing you in closer with each heartfelt note.
You turned to look at him, your gaze locking with his, as if caught in a spell woven by the power of music. His eyes sparkled with sincerity, his voice carrying a depth of emotion that resonated deep within your soul.
With a tender gesture, Chan reached out and delicately tucked a stray strand of hair behind your ear, his touch sending shivers down your spine. It was a simple yet intimate gesture, one that spoke volumes without the need for words.
"And when you smile, the whole world stops and stares for a while," Chan sang softly, his voice filled with warmth and affection. "Cause girl, you're amazing just the way you are."
His words hung in the air, lingering like a sweet melody, as if painting a portrait of admiration and adoration. In that moment, surrounded by the gentle strains of the song.
As the final notes of the song faded into the silence, you remained locked in a wordless exchange, the air tinged with an unspoken understanding. And in Chan's eyes, you found a reflection of your own worth and beauty, a reminder that you were truly loved just the way you are.
"Wow, if you serenade your crush like that, they'll be as smitten with you as I am right now," you joked softly, a smile playing on your lips.
Chan's eyes sparkled with amusement as he replied, "Well, I'm glad I've had that effect on you."
In that moment, something shifted within you, a realization dawning like a gentle sunrise. Before you could articulate your thoughts, Chan leaned in, his lips meeting yours in a tender, lingering kiss.
Time seemed to stand still as the world faded away, leaving only the warmth of Chan's touch and the softness of his lips against yours. It was a moment suspended in time, a silent promise of something more, something deeper than words could convey.
As he pulled back, you were left breathless, your heart racing with a mixture of surprise and longing. In Chan's gaze, you saw a reflection of your own feelings mirrored back at you, a silent affirmation of the connection between you.
Your hand instinctively reached for Chan's cheek, his warmth against your palm grounding you in the reality of the moment. He leaned into your touch, his eyes closing in a silent surrender to the emotions swirling between you.
As you drew closer, your breath mingling with his, you whispered softly, "Please, tell me this isn't a prank?"
Chan's eyes fluttered open, his gaze locking with yours in a silent vow. "It's not a prank," he murmured, his voice filled with sincerity. "I've never been more serious about anything in my life."
His words hung in the air, a solemn declaration of his feelings, his intentions laid bare before you. In that fragile moment, doubt melted away, leaving only the undeniable truth of your connection.
With a gentle resolve, you closed the distance between you, your lips meeting again in a tender embrace. It was a kiss filled with promise, a silent vow to explore the depths of this newfound love together.
And as you melted into each other's embrace, the world faded away, leaving only the sweet symphony of your beating hearts, a testament to the magic of love found in the most unexpected places.
Chan's arms wrapped around you, drawing you closer to his body. The world around you faded into insignificance as you melted into each other's embrace, lost in the warmth of the moment.
The softness of his lips against yours sent waves of warmth cascading through you, igniting a fire that burned brighter with each passing moment.
The forgotten phones lay untouched, a testament to the magnetic pull of your connection, drawing you closer together on the floor of his bedroom. In that intimate space, time seemed to stand still, each heartbeat echoing the rhythm of your shared passion.
Wrapped in each other's arms, you surrendered to the sweet surrender of the moment, lost in a world where only the two of you existed. And as you lay there, bodies entwined and hearts intertwined, you knew that this was just the beginning of a love story waiting to unfold.
#bang chan scenarios#skz x reader#stray kids#skz imagines#stray kids imagines#skz scenarios#skz#skz fluff#stray kids scenarios#stray kids x reader#bang chan#chan fluff#chan x reader#chan imagines#bang chan imagines#bang chan fluff#bang chan x reader#skz bang chan#skz stay#christopher bang#Spotify
180 notes
·
View notes
Note
okioki so i was listening to "from the start" by laufey and started daydreaming to it LMFAO
so im thinkingggg maybe a drabble with blade or dan heng where reader secretly pines over them. one day reader is alone in a room and theyre listening to this song and they start singing along and getting really into it. then when they turn around they see blade/dan heng watching them and they're like "so who's this about?" (or smth idk you can change it) and reader gets really embarassed but confesses anyway
PHEW ok im done im sorry tjis was so long ACK
FROM THE START .ᐟ
includes: dan heng x fem!reader. soft bf dan heng, can be interpreted as imbibitor lunae, not proofread — wc: 691
(Name) was listening to her playlist in her room, engaging in various activities such as reading and tidying up her space. The song “From the Start” by Laufey began playing, causing her to halt in her tracks and swiftly turn up the volume. She sang along to the lyrics, using a makeshift microphone hairbrush, and complemented her performance with gestures that mirrored the song’s sentiment.
Unbeknownst to the eyes of another person observing her, she sang the lyrics aloud, her voice carrying the melody of the song as her body gracefully moved to its rhythm, lost in the joy of the moment.
Have to get this off my chest
I’m telling you today
That when I talk to you, oh, Cupid walks right through
And shoots an arrow through my heart
As she sang, she made a makeshift arrow with her hand, delicately gesturing as if it pierced through her heart, adding a touch of emotion and artistry to her performance.
And I sound like a loon, but don’t you feel it too?
Confess I loved you from the start
Confess I loved you
Just thinking of you
I know I’ve loved you from the start
Startled by the unexpected claps, she froze up, slowly turning towards the door where the applause came from. There he stood, leaning against the doorway with a gentle smile on his face. “So, who’s this song about?” he inquired, his eyes filled with curiosity and a hint of intrigue.
With a fond gaze, Dan Heng observed how she immediately blushed and hastily sought refuge under the covers of her blanket, attempting to escape his gaze.
“It’s rude to ignore someone who’s talking to you, you know,” he playfully chided, moving towards her form, gently patting her head above the blanket.
“Stop it, this is so embarrassing,” she whined, trying her best to avoid Dan Heng’s teasing but finding it rather difficult to resist his affectionate gestures. The playful banter between them brought forth a sense of warmth and familiarity, making their bond even stronger in that intimate moment.
Dan Heng chuckled at her response, settling himself more comfortably on her bed as he persisted with his question, “So, back to my previous question, who’s this song about? I’ve never seen you like that before.”
“I don’t think you’d wanna know,” she mumbled, her voice muffled as she hid her face in her pillow.
“Why?” Dan Heng inquired, curious to uncover the mystery.
“Because it’s...” she hesitated, the ending of her sentence inaudible to Dan Heng’s ears.
“Hmm? Can you repeat that?” He teased, finally catching a glimpse of her red face, though only the top half was visible due to her continued attempts to shield herself. The playful exchange between them brought a sense of lightness and comfort to the moment, allowing them to share a connection that transcended mere words.
She suddenly groaned and tried to turn away from him, “It’s you, idiot,” she whispered. Dan Heng froze in his spot, hearing her confession, before swiftly moving to be on top of her lying form, gently trapping her between his arms.
“Are you serious? (Name), oof—” Dan Heng began to say but was interrupted as she smacked him in the face with a pillow, causing him to fall down beside her.
Her back turned towards him, Dan Heng felt an overwhelming desire to cuddle her and shower her with kisses. Cautiously, he hugged her waist from behind, finding comfort in the fact that she didn’t push him away. He continued to cuddle into her, basking in the warmth of their affection.
“I like, no, love you too, my dearest,” he declared with sincerity, his heart brimming with affection.
He was taken aback by her sudden movement, now face to face. Dan Heng couldn’t resist the urge any longer and asked, “Can I kiss you?” to which she nodded in consent.
Sealing their lips together in a passionate kiss, they immersed themselves in a tender embrace, embracing each other with gentleness and devotion. The world around them seemed to fade away as they expressed their feelings through that intimate connection, creating a cherished moment that they would remember forever.
NOTES. aaa i rly liked writing this, i’ll post a blade version probably later heheheeheh so soft n tiny dan heng bbg
TAG LIST. @rintosei @yanqingisim
LIKES AND REBLOGS ARE APPRECIATED! ‹3
#( ru’s works )#honkai star rail#honkai star rail x reader#honkai star rail x gender neutral reader#honkai star rail x y/n#honkai star rail fluff#honkai star rail dan heng#hsr#hsr x reader#hsr fluff#hsr imagines#hsr dan heng#dan heng hsr#dan heng#dan heng x reader#dan heng x you#dan heng x y/n#dan heng imagines#dan heng fluff#dan feng#yinyue jun#imbibitor lunae
300 notes
·
View notes
Text
It is god awful 4 am in the Philippines (insomnia growing worse due to worry) and I have one fucking theory on what fucking Demian said in the epilogue of Chapter 4.
Demian fucking returns to the presence of Dante as the Sinners took a feast for themselves at some restaurant and talks to them about the meaning and true purpose of technology and the morality behind it along with the concept of greed. One line took a fucking slap on me whenever I kept reading his dialogue.
This is...
A "The Little Prince (TLP)" by Saint Exupéry reference said by the Little Prince himself when he met the stranded pilot in the desert.
Back then when I was still studying religious literature and our main topic is TLP, there are many biblical references here and there from the snake who bit him down to the desert where the pilot has been stranded upon for some time. The sheep has many symbolisms back in my lessons, the common ones that I get to see are the spiritual transcendence of the prince, the representation of the truth, and the beauty hidden from reality. Mind you all that the story of TLP is quite imaginative and a sad one that gives the hopeful yet real life lessons of friendship, value, love, and loss. Hence many symbolisms are interpreted here.
Now that I mention those things... what does it have to do with Demian telling Dante to draw him a sheep like they promised to him? Judging from the structure of his tone, it appears that Demian knew Dante before Dante took their clock prosthetic.
Well my theory is that the sheep is the symbolism of "realization" or more likely "seeing the truth of humanity." Dante is a blurry yet blank slate when they saw that they lost their memories yet retained a sense of a trail of their true goal. Dante wants answers (an obvious reflection of decision for a person who knows nothing of the world) in everything around them and they are the ones who let's out the final decision to handle in everything with the Sinner's help. Hence, they take semi-control in seeing EVERYTHING and witness it along with them. So far Dante has saw the lives of four of their sinners (Gregor, Rodion, Sinclair, and Yi Sang) and see how cruel and unfair of the life they went through. Dante sees them all since they resonated as well with the golden boughs and sees a portion of their troubled lives. A normal happening of humanity in The City.
Dante has to draw a "sheep" to Demian, more likely... Dante has to share to Demian the "truth of humanity that they have witnessed through resonance with the Sinners in a refreshed look." In this chapter, it appears that Dante has to share their side of the truth to Demian about Yi Sang's life yet they appear to be at a lost as always. Just like a sheep that strays away from the shepherd's guidance.
Remember Faust's remarks when she stated on what would be Dante's reaction about their decision to suppress the bronze bull when they get their memories back? It is implying for me at least that Dante is a dislikable or negative character. I mean... look at them when we first started the entire game. Demian must have known this too and probably wants to get Dante to draw a sheep for him now that he can have a more "innocent" or understandable outlook about humanity.
In TLP, the sheep (if removing the more complex representations of various literary analysis) is a literal representation of one's ability to appreciate the beauty of all things through the heart despite the appearance. All of the sinner's lives are miserable in some way yet they are still "beautiful" for us because they manage to strive through their problems, they seek on the right of their belief, they live on to face their traumas, and to accept help from others in order to get back up. The disgusting experiences of humanity in The City is a facade that people always see, but the actions they have done that either support or combat those experiences is what makes it beautiful.
The truth of humanity, is the suffering that they have been through.
It would be interesting that Demian has the title of "The Little Prince" as a nod to it.
EDIT: How does my unhealthy insomnia theory get a lot of interactions- I... I am scared.
271 notes
·
View notes
Note
Eithne/Arthur - “ why are you looking at me like that? ”
flashback
Arthur looked quickly away at the sound of her words. He rubbed the back of his neck. Bit out a self-conscious laugh.
The day was gorgeous, the sun streaming beyond a canopy of gently waving trees. All around them, the field was bursting with wild grasses and flowers that seemed to dot the landscape with bursts of vibrant color: her greens mingling with his reds and blues, till the whole world seemed decked out for only them. And amongst all this, ensconced on rugs and pillows stretched out against the roots the sheltering oaks, motes of light filtered between the boughs, bathing Eithne in golden light as she spoke of her beloved Malconaire, her whole face beaming like the sun.
She was transcendant -- at once more a creature of this earth than he could ever be, and yet so untouchably ethereal he held his breath, almost afraid she might melt away at the slightest of breezes. A chorus of birds sang all around her as if they sang with delight just to be near her, and the dappled light wound round her like will-o-the-whisp attendants sighing upon their liege lady. The radiance of the sun was her nimbus, not glowing upon her but, rather, shining because of her and, despite himself, Arthur smiled again, this time a meditative look taking hold of his features as he stole a glance once more at her.
He'd seen her at balls and at tourneys, but as stunning as she was all made up in Roisin's finest glamors, they could not match her natural beauty here in this wild place, so much a part of her that it seemed to breathe as she did, the very wind stirring with her words. Her tresses were all the finer simply framing her face than caught up in a golden net, and Arthur thought that perhaps all that finery appeared garish against the smooth porcelain of her skin, beaming as it did here in serene sunshine. Her eyes blazed an azure so fine he was sure the sky blushed to be compared to a tint so luminous, and her smile, so rosy, seemed to capture the full lustre of the floral hedges that danced in the attendant zephyrs all around them.
Arthur smiled then, arching a soft brow as he looked at her. His voice, when he spoke, was very soft. "I should have thought that obvious."
For a moment, Eithne looked at him and then, suddenly seeming to catch his meaning, or perhaps -- he hoped -- thinking something similar herself, she colored slightly and looked away. "You mustn't say such foolish things, Arthur. Anyone might think you meant them."
"It would showcase their wisdom."
Laughing, Eithne made herself busy, then, leaning forward to draw a repast from the wicker basket at her knee. Her gown was a simple roughspun, but somehow, out here amongst the gently tilting trees, he did not think anything could have appeared more becoming and, sighing, he gazed heavenward.
"Tell me -- before...before my father," began Arthur, gesturing vaguely, as if to indicate a time before the conquest. "How did you spend days like these?"
Eithne paused in her ministrations, and Arthur was conscious, then, of the weight of her gaze upon him. He smiled, slightly, still looking skyward. "Well...when we could, much like this."
"Oh?"
"But, most often, taking baskets to the village, of course."
Arthur frowned, turning to look at her, then. "Are...are they fond of...wicker?"
She laughed. His confusion did not dissipate. It was Eithne's turn to look quizzical. "Do...I don't suppose you take baskets to people? Or...or perhaps your sisters? Your mother and stepmother?"
Arthur shrugged. "I don't know that most people in the Empire have much...inclination towards--" he shrugged, gaze sliding to the basket at her knee. "Baskets. They're useful, certainly, but--"
"No, it's not--we don't take empty baskets."
Arthur shook his head, shrugging.
"They're filled with goods. Gifts. Bread and cheese and lettuce and jams and...anything that might help those...less well off."
"So...its some form of...charity?"
"Yes! Precisely."
Arthur frowned at the basket before them, doubt churning inside him. Then, a moment, and he pointed. "And? Is...this...charity?"
"What?"
"I just--It's a basket."
Laughing suddenly, Eithne set a plate with cheese and cold chicken before him. "In this case, it's hospitality. I daresay, you're better off than I am, or don't they feed imperial princes?" she teased, grinning.
Laughing, Arthur watched her laughter, her whole face seeming to somehow brighten even further as her limpid eyes danced. Somewhere deep in his belly, Arthur felt warmth suffuse him, something bright and briliant blooming in his chest as he joined her in laughter. "Why do you think we all come here so very often?"
"I did not imagine you came as beggars."
Arthur paused, watched the merriness in her face. It seemed to him the birds were singing more quietly now, as if they were alone in all the world, with no other earlthy creature to witness. This moment was theirs. "Any man, even a prince, is a beggar before someone like you." I didn't think someone like you could exist... he thought.
She frowned. "You make me sound a tyrant."
He shook his head, sat up a little straighter. "No, I..." he shrugged, sighing. "Eithne, what I mean is...There's no one else in the world like you. No one. Anywhere, and..." he shrugged, laughed. "I would know. I've been most places in the world, after all, and...You've no equal, Eithne. No rival. To know you is to wish to know you better. To be with you is to wish never to be parted." Arthur sighed, then, self-conscious, shrugged. "I'm not much with words, Eithne...I just mean there is no one like you. You're the sort of woman a man would beg, borrow, or steal just to please but, despite it all, I know that...My father may own half the world, but that won't make you mine. I could shower you with gems and you'd frown just," he laughed. "Just as you do now at the idea. Riches aren't what matter to you so...we're all beggars. You see? I've got nothing you want. And that's...that's something I've never encountered before."
"You're wrong!" blurted Eithne.
Arthur frowned. "I--"
"You do have something I want."
"What is it? It's yours, I--"
"Oh, hush," whispered Eithne and, leaning close, she pressed a kiss to his cheek. "There," she said, smiling, a blush blooming upon her cheeks as she leaned back again.
"Oh no you don't," chuckled Arthur, one hand slipping into the veil of her hair to cradle her neck as he leaned close. Her lips were soft as roses petals. Her breath was a warm zephyr. And her eyes, when he opened his own to see them, were brighter than the whole sky.
#idk what this is!!#ask#askbox#eithne malconaire#arthur: im not a romatic#also arthur: eithne is literally outshining the sun sm that the dappled light looks like it must be her fairy attendants#he's such a dumbass aljskdaflkjsdf#arthur have you ever thought that maybe part of why you're LIVING sm out here in nature urself is bc you don't actually like court life????#arthur: impossible#arthur: we're just out here basking in the sunshine bc that's what ~eithne wants#drabble
45 notes
·
View notes
Text
You Are My Sunshine (Nanami x Fem Reader)
I AM SO SORRY GUYS, BUT THIS WILL CONTAIN ANGST!!!! While writing this, I was bawling my eyes out. Yes yes I know I did this to myself, so I thought I would let you guys join the ride. Enjoy and read this if you dare :)
Nanami winced in pain as he collapsed into Y/N's arms. The severe burns that covered his body told a tale of a fierce battle against cursed spirits, a battle that had taken its toll on his once steadfast demeanor. Y/N's heart pounded with a mixture of fear and determination as she cradled him, her hands trembling with a desperate need to heal the man she loved.
"Nanami, hold on." she whispered, her voice filled with a mix of anguish and determination. She activated her Reverse Cursed Technique (RCT), the energy enveloping her hands with a soft, ethereal glow. With each gentle touch, she tried to channel the healing power, hoping the wounds would heal and the pain to subside.
Nanami's breaths were labored, but he managed a weak smile, "Y/N, I knew you'd find me…” She looked at her lover with worry and concern written all over her face.
“You’ll be fine Nanami, just deep brea-” She was cut off when Nanami began to speak.
“We never traveled to Malaysia together.”
“We will go to Malaysia Nanami, don’t say those things.” She said as she tried to hold back tears.
“Sing to me, please Y/N. That is all I want right now.” He said weakly, knowing he would not recover from his injuries. He was tired, too tired to keep going.
Nanami's request caught Y/N off guard, but she nodded through her tears, doing her best to steady her voice as she sang, her hands still trying to use RCT, hoping she would be able to do something to keep him.
"You are my sunshine, my only sunshine." she sang softly, her fingers running through Nanami's hair with a tenderness that spoke of countless shared moments. The melody filled the empty corridor, a haunting backdrop to the farewell that loomed ahead.
"You make me happy when skies are gray." Y/N continued, her voice cracking with the weight of sorrow. She tightened her grip on Nanami, as if holding onto the fading notes of their love.
Nanami managed a faint smile, his eyes closing as the pain began to subside, if only momentarily. He found comfort in the melody, a melody that had accompanied them through laughter, tears, and the quiet moments between.
"You'll never know, dear, how much I love you." Y/N sang, her voice breaking as she leaned down to press a gentle kiss to Nanami's forehead. The room seemed to hold its breath, as if time itself paused to witness the final verses of a love song.
A serene calm settled over Nanami's features as Y/N's voice trembled through the last lines of the song. "Please don't take my sunshine away." she whispered, her heartache laid bare in those words.
The soft glow of Y/N's healing technique enveloped them both, a final attempt to defy the inevitable. But Nanami, with a peaceful acceptance in his eyes, shook his head ever so slightly.
"Thank you, Y/N," he murmured, his voice barely a whisper now. "For being my sunshine."
As the last echoes of the song faded away, so did the light in Nanami's eyes. Y/N held him in her arms, the weight of grief crashing down upon her. The corridor, once filled with the ethereal glow of healing, now felt cold and empty.
Tears streamed down Y/N's face as she clung to the memory of his warmth. She knew Nanami had found solace in her song, a serenade that accompanied him into the quiet unknown.
"You'll always be my sunshine, Nanami." she whispered, her voice a fragile echo in the silence that followed. She pressed a final kiss to his lips, a bittersweet farewell to a love that transcended the boundaries of time and space.
In the quiet halls of the train station, Y/N cradled Nanami's lifeless form, the remnants of their love lingering in the air like the fading notes of a heartbreaking melody.
#jjk#jjk x reader#jujutsu kaisen#x reader#anime#anime and manga#female reader#angst#jjk nanami#nanami kento#nanami x reader#jujutsu nanami#kento nanami#nanami x you#nanami angst#jjk angst#jjk manga#jjk spoilers#sad#what is wrong with me#why did i write this#im crying#sobbing#rip nanami#relationship#nanami kento x reader#nanami kento x you#nanami kento x y/n#gege when i catch you gege#nanami x y/n
86 notes
·
View notes
Note
Hold My Heart
pairing: boyfriend!andy barber x reader
concept: Sometimes a smile is all he needs.
word count: 800
warnings: soft Andy, poetic fluff with the sweetest kisses, your love for him, nickname── (Butterfly)
a/n: a sweet soft Andy daydream
Masterlist
What I treasure most in life is the love you give me
Andy stands at the doorway looking at you with admiration.
You look beautiful in your sundress with a ray of sunshine streaming through the kitchen window and shadows dancing around you.
You've given him something he's always wanted, and his azure eyes sparkles with love.
I feel your soul whispering to mine, always protect me and love me
The darkest shadows of Andy's life have rained down upon him since the loss of his first marriage and family, but he met you in a miracle when he was in need of some light.
You made him believe in love again and showed him that he could still have a life full of light and joy.
He knew then that you were the one, and he wanted to thank you for being there for him when he needed it most. The only thing he wants to do when he comes home after a stressful day in court is to spend every minute here with you, his Butterfly.
He remembers the day you became his.
While lying on a blanket in the middle of nowhere, a sunny day shone down on you both. You felt the sun's warmth on your skin and the gentle breeze rustling through the grass. You both looked up at the blue sky on this perfect first date.
As Andy watched a butterfly dance around your nose, he saw life in its fullest sense.
Sometimes a smile is all he needs.
Butterflies are creatures of the air, able to float on gentle breezes.
They symbolize freedom, beauty, and hope.
In the light of your laughter, you sang to his broken heart, healing it.
You dance around the kitchen counter, sipping your wine glass, which makes him smile even wider. This is home for him.
When you turn around, you catch sight of him and smile flirtatiously at him, "Hello, Mr. Barber."
You wrap yourself around him.
“How’s my man? Your lips softly kiss those of his. He wraps his arms around you and pulls you close. You can feel his heart beating against yours.
You both kiss deeply as he picks you up and sits you on the counter and stands between your legs as he inhales out his love for you, "Good to see you, Butterfly." His hands move to your face and he looks into your eyes.
The world seems to stand still as you two pause, a connection that transcends beyond words.
His desire looking into his soul.
Your body warms as he presses his forehead against yours and whispers, "I need you," he whispers, "I want you all," he says going in for another kiss, leaving you gasping for air.
Your fingers teased his neck and hair as you kissed the corner of his mouth. "I am yours" You kissed his jaw, "I will always be here." Another kiss, this time closer to his ear. A finger trailed along his jawline as you said, "Andy, I love you, I want you today and for the future."
"The future?" When he hears your words, his heart screams out for more. "All of me with my secret demons"
Your head tilted forward as you nodded and smile. "I can send every demon away with my love, because you are my future"
Your kisses promise your future to him.
You grabbed him by the tie and bit his lower lip. "Let's bite away the demons and make our own with our desire and lust for one another." You started fiddling with his hair and massaging his scalp, and his hands began to move down your body.
He moaned in pleasure and pulled you closer to him.
Getting a feel of your skin on his fingertips. To touch all of you was his desire, and you gave him everything he wanted.
He wanted more of your skin against him, his breath was hot.
When the kiss ends, he carries you down the hall and back to the bedroom as you cling to him.
His lips drop to your neck as he bites, while he smiles between the bites.
At the end, it's him who clings to you
His future is promised to you with his kisses.
At that moment, Andy knew you were the butterfly he needed to transform his life into one filled with love and life.
Bringing all the light into his air and wind.
Every time our lips touch, I feel like I'm in a dream and I just want to stay there forever.
#andy barber x reader#andy barber x woc!reader#andy barber#andy barber x f!reader#boyfriend!andy barber x reader#andy barber fanfiction#andy barber fic#andy barber x female reader#andy barber x latina!reader#chris evans fanfiction#chris evans characters#andy barber x you#andy barber au#defending jacob#andy barber x y/n#chris evans x reader#chris evans character fanfiction#bf!andy barber
293 notes
·
View notes
Text
"Uptown Girl"
Summary: Love was hard, but loving someone from completely different worlds was even more difficult.
Warnings: None
Fic Type: Maybe a series, angst and fluff
A/N: My god I haven't posted in here in ages I would love to hear feed back about this story it was just something fun id come up with I mean it may just be a stand alone, remember English is not my first language please be kind!! <3
Memphis, Mississippi carried the weight of dreams on its shoulders, and in the dim glow of the neon lights, Elvis Presley found himself at the crossroads of ambition and reality. The sun had set, casting shadows over the town, as Elvis sat on the porch of his family's modest home, strumming his guitar with a weary heart.
The evening held a melody of its own—a symphony of distant hopes and the echoes of unfulfilled promises. Elvis, a young man with dreams as vast as the Mississippi itself, sat with his guitar cradled in his arms. His fingers danced over the strings, extracting a soulful tune that resonated with the melancholy of his weary heart.
In the dimming light, Elvis's features were a canvas painted with the struggles of a life not yet fully lived. His eyes, deep and reflective, held the weight of dreams that yearned to soar beyond the limitations of his circumstances. The chiseled contours of his face told a story of resilience, each line etched by the hardships he faced and the battles he fought.
As he strummed, the rhythmic cadence of his guitar became a companion to the rhythm of his thoughts. The glow of a cigarette tip illuminated his face in sporadic flashes, casting a fleeting spotlight on the complexity that lay within. Elvis Presley was not just a name; he was a confluence of passions and pains, a bridge between the simplicity of Tupelo and the grandeur of fame.
The porch, weathered and familiar, became a stage for Elvis's introspection. His voice, when he sang, was a raw, emotive force that seemed to unravel the layers of his soul. Each note carried the weight of the stories he'd lived and those still waiting to be written.
"You know you shouldn't be smokin', it's bad for ya" He heard in the background, a voice that he had heard a million times before. Sure enough, there she stood.
Elvis turned, the ember of his cigarette glowing in the dimness, to find Rory leaning against the porch railing. Her voice, a familiar melody that carried both affection and concern, had a way of grounding him even in the midst of his inner turmoil.
Rory, a vision of beauty with her tousled brunette hair and striking blue eyes, exuded a timeless elegance that seemed to transcend the boundaries of Memphis itself. Her presence brought a gentle calm to the turbulence in Elvis's soul, like a steady anchor in the storm of uncertainties.
Tall, but not towering, Rory possessed a grace in her stature that complemented the poise in her every movement. Her eyes, the colour of a tranquil summer sky, held a depth that mirrored the vastness of the Mississippi, and Elvis often found himself losing track of time within their depths.
She wore a simple, yet alluring, ensemble—a vintage floral dress that swayed with the evening breeze. The soft fabric clung to her frame, accentuating the curves that made her presence in Elvis's world a captivating masterpiece.
As she approached, the porch's feeble light painted a chiaroscuro on her features, accentuating the subtle lines of her face. A gentle smile played on her lips, a mixture of love and concern that spoke volumes. Rory's beauty was not just skin deep; it was in the way she cared, the way she understood the complexities of Elvis's journey.
"Elvis, you're letting the weight of the world get to ya," Rory said, her voice a soothing melody. She reached for his hand, gently prying the cigarette from his fingers and extinguishing it on the porch railing.
He sighed, the tension in his shoulders easing as he met her gaze. "Rory, sometimes it feels like the world's closing in on me."
She nodded, a silent acknowledgment of the struggles they faced together. "You're not alone, Elvis. We'll face whatever comes our way, just like always."
As Elvis took Rory's hand, intertwining his fingers with hers, they stepped through the weathered front door of the Presley home. The familiar scent of home, a comforting blend of Gladys's home-cooked meals and the subtle hint of tobacco, enveloped them. Elvis's mother, Gladys, was in the kitchen, her silhouette framed by the warm light filtering through the curtains.
"Mama, we're home," Elvis called out, the affection in his voice resonating through the walls.
Gladys turned, her eyes lighting up as she caught sight of Rory standing beside Elvis. Her warm smile transformed the room, radiating maternal love. "Well, if it ain't our favorite girl. Rory, dear, come give your Mama Gladys a hug."
Rory embraced Gladys with genuine affection, feeling the warmth of a motherly love that had embraced her since she moved to Memphis at the tender age of ten. Elvis's father, Vernon, appeared from the living room, his eyes crinkling at the corners as he welcomed them.
"Elvis, son, how's my boy?" Vernon greeted, clapping Elvis on the back.
Elvis chuckled, a hint of weariness in his voice. "Surviving, Daddy. Surviving."
Gladys, with her nurturing spirit, ushered them into the cozy living room where the scent of a freshly brewed pot of coffee lingered. The room, adorned with family photographs and Elvis's burgeoning accolades, echoed with the shared history of joy and sorrow.
As they settled on the worn-out couch, Gladys, perceptive as ever, studied her son's weary expression. "Elvis, what's weighin' on your mind, honey?"
Elvis exchanged a glance with Rory, a silent understanding passing between them. Rory spoke up, "We just wanted to share some time with y'all, maybe lighten the load a bit."
Gladys's eyes softened with gratitude. "Oh, Rory, you're always a breath of fresh air. We're lucky to have you in our lives."
Vernon, a man of few words but immense warmth, nodded in agreement. The room, filled with the embrace of familial love, became a sanctuary from the world outside.
As the evenings unfolded in the Presley household, Gladys and Vernon couldn't help but exchange knowing glances when it came to Elvis and Rory. The unspoken connection between the two was evident, a palpable tension that hovered beneath the surface of their shared laughter and easy camaraderie. Gladys, with her motherly intuition, often found herself stealing glimpses at the young couple, her heart yearning for a love she believed was destined.
Vernon, equally astute, sensed the uncharted territories of their feelings. Over dinner conversations and shared moments in the living room, the couple often found themselves exchanging subtle smiles, their eyes speaking volumes that words dared not articulate. It was as if the universe itself was orchestrating a symphony of emotions, waiting for the right moment to unfold.
However, as fate often played its cards, both Elvis and Rory remained prisoners of their own unspoken desires. Fear of jeopardizing their friendship, the uncertainty of the future, and the weight of expectations shackled them from confessing the feelings that stirred within. Each stolen glance and every lingering touch carried the unspoken question of "what if," yet neither dared to breach the fragile wall that separated them.
The air became charged with anticipation as Gladys playfully suggested, "You know, Elvis, Rory's been such a dear to us. Maybe it's time you two consider something more."
Elvis, caught off guard by the directness of his mother's matchmaking, felt a blush creeping up his neck. He exchanged a quick, embarrassed glance with Rory, who, in turn, was equally taken aback. The pressure of the unspoken tension amplified as Gladys continued, "Y'all make such a lovely couple. Maybe it's time to admit what's been staring you in the face."
Vernon, chiming in with a twinkle in his eye, added, "Ain't nothing wrong with followin' your heart, son."
The atmosphere became charged with a mixture of embarrassment and frustration. Elvis, feeling the weight of the situation, finally snapped, "Enough! Can't we have a family dinner without turnin' it into a matchmaking session?!"
Gladys and Vernon, momentarily stunned by Elvis's outburst, exchanged a glance of realization. The laughter that once echoed through the room now lingered in awkward silence. Elvis, realizing the impact of his words, sighed and softened his tone, "I love you both, but can we just enjoy our time together without pushin' for something more?"
The tension that lingered in the air after Elvis's outburst settled into an uneasy quietude. The clinking of utensils against plates echoed in the dining room, punctuating the strained atmosphere. Elvis, acutely aware of the shift, stole glances at Rory, whose eyes reflected a mixture of empathy and curiosity.
Gladys, with her intuitive nature, decided to break the palpable silence. "Elvis, dear, we just want you to be happy. Dixie's a nice girl, but we can't help but think that maybe there's something more you're not saying."
Vernon, cautiously choosing his words, added, "Rory's been a part of our lives for so long. We can see the way you both look at each other. It's like there's a story waiting to unfold and plus you aren't even goin' steady with that Dixie Girl."
Elvis, his gaze dropping to his plate, hesitated before responding, "Dixie's a good person, Mama. I care about her a lot."
Rory, feeling the weight of the conversation, spoke up with a supportive smile, "Elvis, we're just concerned about you. We want to see you happy, whether it's with Dixie or someone else."
The conversation swirled in a sea of unspoken emotions, each word carrying the weight of unexplored possibilities. Elvis's mind, however, wrestled with the unspoken truth—that Dixie was a comfort, a safety net, but Rory held the key to a love he yearned for but feared losing.
As the evening progressed, the subtle tension lingered, overshadowing the shared laughter and warmth that once defined the Presley family dinners. The unsaid words and the undercurrents of unspoken love painted the room in hues of complexity, leaving Elvis at the intersection of his emotions.
After the dinner's echoes had faded, and the Presley household settled into a quiet evening, Elvis and Rory found themselves on the porch, bathed in the gentle glow of a single porch light. The air between them crackled with an unspoken tension, the residue of the family dinner still lingering in the atmosphere.
They sat side by side, a cautious space between them that mirrored the uncharted territory of their conversation. The soft hum of cicadas and the distant rustle of leaves added a gentle soundtrack to the evening as they hesitated, unsure of where to begin.
Finally, Rory broke the silence, her voice a delicate whisper in the quiet night, "Elvis, about what happened at dinner..."
Elvis, his gaze fixed on the flickering porch light, sighed. "I'm sorry, Rory. I didn't mean to snap like that. It's just... complicated."
She nodded, her eyes searching his face for answers. "Your parents care about you, Elvis. They just want you to be happy. And I want that for you too, you know?"
The porch held a hesitancy, an unspoken tension that lingered in the wake of their earlier conversation. Elvis, fidgeting with the hem of his shirt, broke the silence with an awkward cough. "Rory, about dinner… I didn't mean to snap like that. It's just, with my parents always trying to set me up with you, it gets overwhelming."
Rory nodded, her gaze fixated on the distant glow of city lights. "I get it, Elvis. It must be tough, especially when you care about someone."
He sighed, the weight of the unspoken truth pressing on his shoulders. "Yeah, Dixie's a nice girl. She really likes me, you know? Maybe it's a good thing, having someone who cares."
Rory's eyes flickered with a mixture of understanding and curiosity. "Elvis, do you like her?"
He hesitated, his gaze searching for the right words. "I mean, she's great, Rory. Really great. And it's nice having someone who's into me, you know? But sometimes, I wonder…"
Rory sensed the doubt in his voice, the undercurrent of something unspoken. "Wonder what?"
Elvis, unknowingly slipping into the truth he hadn't intended to reveal, rambled on, "I wonder if I'm just settling. She's nice and all, but there's someone else who's always been there. Someone I can't seem to get out of my mind, I mean when I started liking you I thought I was out of my mind that's why talked to dixie I know it was harsh but hey it was guaranteed"
The words hung in the air, a raw vulnerability laid bare. Elvis's eyes, clouded with self-doubt, missed the shift in Rory's expression. She leaned in, capturing his gaze with a depth that conveyed both tenderness and longing. "Elvis, you're wrong."
Before he could comprehend her words, Rory bridged the gap between them, pressing her lips against his in a kiss that spoke volumes. Time seemed to stand still as the world around them faded into insignificance. The porch, the city lights, and the weight of unspoken words dissipated in the tender connection they had long yearned for.
Elvis, initially stunned, felt the warmth of Rory's lips against his, a revelation that eclipsed any doubt that had clouded his mind. As the kiss deepened, the universe seemed to align in a symphony of emotions. The subtle taste of vulnerability and the familiarity of shared history melded into a moment that transcended the porch, the city, and the complexities of their friendship.
Rory, breaking the kiss but maintaining the closeness, whispered, "Elvis, I've always cared about you too."
The realization dawned on him, the clarity cutting through the fog of uncertainty. "Rory, I… I never thought…"
She smiled, a gentle reassurance that held the promise of unexplored possibilities. "Maybe it's time we stop overthinking and see where this takes us."
As they sat on the porch, their hands finding each other in the quiet aftermath of the kiss, the world around them became a canvas painted with the hues of a newfound connection. The city lights shimmered in approval, and the night seemed to whisper the beginning of a love story that had patiently awaited its revelation.
"Oh fuck, I just kissed my best friend"
#austin butler elvis#elvis ai#elvis presley x reader#big daddy elvis#elvis presley#elvis the pelvis#wattpad#elvis imagine#young elvis#50s elvis#for you#life#love
45 notes
·
View notes
Note
wait I just had a random idea
Miguel x Siren!reader idk why but it popped up in my head and I cannot get it out
But anyways how have you been doing? You been posting lots!-🪼 anon
oh my god yes i can definitely do that tehe
it’s because i have a lot of requests and i write them BUT i save them to my drafts and post like every hour or so to space them out 😭— lin 🧚🏽♀️
miguel o’hara x siren! reader
what happens when spider-man meets and falls in love with a siren 🧜🏽♀️
miguel had always been captivated by you, drawn to your ethereal beauty and enchanting voice. but it was your siren nature that truly intrigued him – the magic and mystery that surrounded your every movement and melody. he couldn't suppress his growing feelings any longer and felt a burning desire to express his love.
one evening, miguel gathered his courage and decided it was time to confess his feelings to you. he found you sitting by the waterfront, your voice carrying across the waves as you sang a haunting melody. as your last note echoed through the air, miguel approached, his heart racing.
with a nervous breath, miguel spoke, his voice filled with sincerity. "i may not know you personally but, there's something i need to tell you. i have fallen deeply in love with you. your siren nature, your beauty, and your voice... they've enraptured my heart." he paused, searching for the right words. "i want you to know that i am willing to adjust my life to accommodate your unique siren lifestyle. i want to be with you, to support you, and to create a life where we can both thrive."
your eyes shimmering with emotion, listened intently to miguel’s declaration. you had guarded your heart for so long, fearing rejection due to your siren existence. but in miguel, you saw a kindred spirit, someone who embraced your uniqueness and offered genuine love and understanding.
a smile bloomed on your face as you responded, your voice as melodious as the waves crashing against the shore. "miguel, your words fill my heart with joy. i have yearned for someone who would accept me for who i am, sirensong and all. to know that you are willing to journey alongside me is a gift beyond measure."
with your hearts now laid bare, miguel and your embarked on a new chapter of your lives together. miguel cupped your face and sealed a kiss that would be a testimony of the beginning of your relationship and for many years to come. both of you worked together to create a home that would accommodate your siren needs. miguel studied the lore and legends surrounding sirens, seeking knowledge and finding ways to blend the human and siren worlds.
your home became a sanctuary, a place where your enchanting voice could echo freely and where miguel found solace in your song. he embraced the shifting tides of your lives, determined to navigate the challenges and celebrate the magic you shared.
you charted a course of love and discovery, with miguel supporting your siren lifestyle every step of the way. on moonlit nights, you would stroll along the beach, hand in hand, sharing tender moments as your voice harmonized with the crashing waves.
as you embraced your intertwined destinies, miguel and you found solace and a profound sense of belonging in each other's arms.in your loving union, you discovered a harmony that transcended the bounds of reality, a love story guided by the song of your hearts, forever entwined by your shared passion and desire to explore the depths of your connection.
in your siren song, you wove a melody that would resonate throughout your lives, an eternal reminder of your love and the promise he had made to accommodate and embrace all aspects of your unique union.
tags 🏷️!! @meeom @astro1bloom @obi-mom-kenobi @sabcandoit @kairiscorner @emiemiemiii
#spiderman atsv#spider man: across the spider verse#miguel o'hara#atsv x reader#🌱 lin writes#miguel o’hara x reader#miguel spiderman#miguel o’hara x y/n#lin’s asks#♡´･ᴗ･`♡ lin answers#miguel o’hara imagine#miguel o’hara x female reader#miguel o’hara x siren!reader#miguel o’hara fluff
85 notes
·
View notes
Text
Expanding Galaxies - (Pt 6)
You stood on the balcony to your room, admiring the clusters of stars that painted the night sky. The sun had already set, painting the horizon in a wide array of purples, oranges, and pinks before fading into the deepest navy.
A far off sound of calling birds and various ambient noises from the waterfalls around you sang out in a brilliant chorus.
A cool breeze blew through the air making you shudder, rubbing your shoulders for a hint of warmth. To be fair your outfit wasn’t quite suited for a nighttime stroll.
The gala to celebrate successful exchanges and encourage new ones was tonight and a fanciful dress had found it’s way to your bed. It was never something you’d have ever picked for yourself and yet wearing it tonight felt right.
Gossamer tulle in the palest blue spread over your shoulders, spilling forward to gather at your waist, held by delicate braided silver ropes that reminded you of tree branches reaching outward.
Little was left to the imagination as your chest was nearly exposed save the tender fabric barely concealing your breasts. A slit cut gracefully up one leg, the rest hidden by the waterfall of fabric pooling to the floor.
But your favorite part had to be the rivulets of crystals dotting along swaths of the material, catching the light this way and that. The night sky made manifest on your gown.
A section of your hair gathered in the teeth of an opalescent comb, just enough to keep stray hairs from your face.
Another gust of wind had you shivering and backing away from the balcony just when a firm single knock sounded on your door.
Closing the entrance to your balcony, hoping to stave off the chill and gather as much warmth into your room before nights end, you slowly made your way to the noise.
The wind was no longer chilling you but the tingling running through your body at the sight before you was prominent nonetheless.
Billy stood before you, cloaked in the deepest navy. Like the sky, you thought. Lush velvet with satin black piping and two opal cuff links, similar to your hair comb.
His dark hair appeared almost an inky black as it was slicked back, matching dark scruff hugged his jaw appearing a little less ‘clean shaven’ than you were used to.
His dark eyes roamed your body hungrily. Pupils lost in a sea of inky blackness and you swore you could feel each body part light up as his gaze traveled over it.
“You look…” his eyes finally returned back to your face to hold your attention, “transcendent.”
The heat rose in your cheeks and surely you could feel the warmth extend to the front of your very exposed chest. Hoping he didn’t notice, you smiled up at him, fiddling with a piece of the silver rope before accepting his outstretched arm.
“Shall we?”
You’d never been to a gala on earth but you were sure they couldn’t compare to this.
Packed to the brim with xiadians and humans all clothed in fine fabrics and covering every hue of the rainbow, even a few others that toyed with your eyes in a downright alien way.
Tables of fresh cut fruits glistening under candlelight, baked goods with their sweet aroma wafting into the air. Meats and seafoods, some recognizable and others completely foreign.
Chalices of dark sour smelling liquid and flutes of bright pink bubbling mixtures were passed around. You noticed only the xiadians seemed to be gravitating towards the foul smelling drink.
Music rang out and a large dance floor was filled with groups walking, chatting and dancing. The music you recognized, songs you had heard in earth, orchestral tunes that made your heart ache thinking of home.
As a servant passed by Billy grabbed two glasses of the sparkling pink flutes and handed one to you. It felt like an icy cloud soaring over your tongue, fizzing in the back of your throat.
“So what is-“ you inclined your head towards the goblets a few more xiadians grabbed and tossed back heartily. “That?”
Billy swallowed the rest of his own drink, his dark eyes returning to yours.
“It’s zhelaris ale. Incredibly strong and incredibly terrible.” He winked at you. “But xiads…well let’s just say it takes a lot to get us drunk.”
Your eyes drifted back and forth to the beautiful gowns and the dance floor. You’d never been a skilled dancer but something inside your cells seemed to hum with the tune being played.
This wasn’t missed by Billy, who set his glass onto a passing tray. Gently taking your own empty flute and placing it on a nearby table.
“Would you like to dance?”
Heat rose in your face, first excitement soared through your veins then a telltale bashfulness at the chance of potentially looking like a fool.
“I would, but…”
His one eyebrow rose, gaze encouraging you to continue.
“But, I’m afraid. I haven’t dance, at least not like this…in a very long time.”
“Well the good news is it’s a lead dance. So all you need to do is follow me and my steps.” The worry must not have completely left your eyes because his thumb was there at the side of your mouth, brushing your skin softly.
“If you should not enjoy it or wish to continue we don’t have to.”
He held his hand out to you, letting your own fingers drift against his, his warm skin tingling against your own.
Slowly guided out to the dance floor, the fabric of your dress skating along the marbled surface behind. A firm hand resting against your waist. The soft touch of his thumb resting against your bare skin where the dress cut off.
The music struck up a melodic tone, and then you were moving. It resembled enough of a waltz for you to catch on. Thankfully Billy was enough of a good dance partner that following his lead came naturally.
Whirling and twirling past other couples, the swell of the music capturing you both in a vivid haze. The candlelight danced across his face, you could’ve sworn you saw blue sparkle in dark eyes as the next cascade of shadow fell over you.
How your feet kept pace you didn’t know but the notes sped up then reached a crescendoed peak before a final dulcet tone rang out to signify the songs end.
Laughter and clapping actually spread through the onlooking crowd and dancers. You smiled up at Billy, his own expression one of pure enjoyment.
Playfulness danced in his eyes, and you noticed his hand hadn’t left your waist. A moment later another song began, one much more different.
Slower, thicker, deeper. A rolling melody with the steady undertone of drumming. The beat seemed to coalesce with your own heart.
You felt your partners hand grip yours tighter. More xiadians took to the floor, it was clearly a song that they knew.
Eyes widened and heat rising to your face as you glanced around.
“Billy, I-I don’t know this song.” How to dance to it, how to move…there was a roiling in your stomach.
The tempo was all consuming, ancient. It reminded you of Billy. Feeling the weight of his stare on you before he leaned in close to whisper, his breath ghosting over the shell of your ear.
“Just follow my lead.” Trust me. An unspoken phrase.
Your chin dipped with a quick nod and then you were off. The rhythm would grow and fade in a sensual flare.
The movements were much more fluid, there was an indescribable feeling that prickled over your skin with each new motion and gesture.
Did the other humans feel it too? You wanted to look at them but your eyes couldn’t be torn from the face before you.
A being carved of rock and energy and shadow and power. Smooth, calculated, a predator stalking its all too willing prey.
And his eyes…his eyes no longer black but an unearthly blue. The thunderous muscle in your chest beat a rapid tattoo as the music began to pick up.
Spinning, the room around you blurring, fingertips digging into the soft velvet on his shoulders.
Was it the drums or the blood pounding in your ears? Ritualistic- a carnal beat. This dance unlike anything you’d ever seen or felt before.
Peaking higher and higher, the trill of singing notes whistled in your mind as your head felt like it was filled with the fizzing pink liquid.
His grip on you remained tight, guiding you through each new loop, swirl and dip. Gliding and you could swear your feet hadn’t touched the ground.
The song reached its climax and in a rush of movement, hands hoisting you skyward as you leapt up in a final display.
In that weightless moment you could see others also being lifted as part of the dance in your periphery.
Then held aloft for another second before Billy lowered you steadily and slowly. Your body pressing and grazing against the entire length of his own.
It sent ripples of pleasure tingling through your body. His forehead rested against yours, strands of his hair tickled your skin as you could breathe deep the scent of him.
When you looked once more his eyes were again their original deep brown.
Realizing the both of you were panting Billy lead you from the dance floor and off to a less busy alcove by the drinks. Your chest seemed to buzz with frantic energy. Had it been the deepest parts of your soul those drumbeats had reached or something else?
It was dim in the hidden corner you two had retired to, yet your eyes didn’t dare drift open fully. Letting your hand skim along the side of his suit jacket, then shifting it underneath.
You feel Billy tense under your fingertips, hard muscle, a breath stopped short in his throat. It felt good, having just a moment of power over him.
Your other hand reached up to join underneath his coat. Splaying against the silk of his shirt. It rippled and cascaded in colors reminiscent of an oil slick.
Pulling him deeper into your hiding place. Music played on, close but also so far away. You needed his mouth against your own. To taste him after that dance, had it affected him as it had you?
Feeling your tug Billy leaned in closer, legs coming in close as you pressed yourself further away from the crowd beyond.
His mouth against yours made your head feel dizzy. Light and heavy all at once.
Maybe it was the dancing, maybe it was the drinking maybe it was everything but you couldn’t suppress the giggle building in your chest as his stubble brushed against your own jaw.
“What’s so funny?” The delicious scrape of his trimmed beard pressed to your flushed skin.
The way his brown eyes glimmered in the lowered light of the evening. Soft and wicked.
“Do you ever not feel weird about this?” He always seemed so confident, like he was destined to be here and you were a laughable mistake.
“I mean, to me you’re a spaceman.” The laughter rippled through your body at the awkward statement.
“A man of the stars?” His own mouth was pulled into a grin as he placed another kiss along your neck, tongue darting out to tickle the shell of your ear.
“Starman.” Your fists gripped into his jacket, knuckles going white. If you held onto him tight enough perhaps you wouldn’t topple over the side of the planet and its weak sense of gravity.
“I suppose that is what I am.” Your lips met again, his hot mouth working against yours until you didn’t need to open your eyes to see stars.
When he pulled away and you could breathe once more a memory crossed your mind.
“My dad used to love a movie called Starman. It was very old, even to him, but I remember watching it. Thinking how when it was made it was considered outlandish and sci-if.”
Billy watched you recall this moment, eyes scanning your face as if he could read each thought from the minuscule muscle changes .
“It was about aliens?”
“Yes. An alien, well- he comes to earth and has to figure out how to get home.” The heat in your cheeks wasn’t just from the kiss now.
How he watched you, intently listening as if hanging on every word. You’d never had this much undivided attention before in your life. Maybe that’s why you felt so uncertain to continue.
“And does he…get home?” His hand had moved to press against your wrist now. Pulse fluttering under his thumb. The digit soothingly caressing against your skin.
“Yes.” Your lips parted, tongue licking the bottom one before continuing. “But not before he falls in love.”
You didn’t know it was possible, but his dark eyes grew brighter. A flash of blue then that familiar blackish brown, lit up from something within.
“With a woman from earth.”
All you could do was nod your head. The marble column pressed into your back, you could feel a film of sweat along your spine.
If you had blinked you would’ve missed the faint twitch of his lips into a subtle smirk. Quick, but not teasing. No. More telling if anything.
“It seems the writers were ahead of their time with that one.” His hand unpinned your wrist, grazing along the fabric of your skirt, skimming tauntingly against your bare thigh.
You made a noise from the back of your throat and his hand ceased all movement. Any sign of light in his eyes was replaced with a darkness that gobbled up all the remaining brightness.
You wanted to say something, anything, but the words died in your throat. The heaviness of his hand, warm and present against your thigh. Fingers just brushing the inside enough to make you want to squirm.
“And this Star man, he goes home. And never sees her again?” You swallowed thickly. In truth, yes that is exactly what happens. Why did it make your chest feel tight?
Billy was on top of you now, your chests bumping against one another with each breath. Agonizing how you could smell him, his taste still on your lips. How were you to form a coherent thought when all you wanted was for him to tear this dress off of you?
“He does. But he-“
“He?”
“Gives her a gift.” His lips parted in a gentle “ah”. Waiting. He knew. You KNEW he knew. But he was waiting for you to say it. “A baby.”
“Is that so.”
With that you surged forward, fingers clasping into his hair, nails scratching against his scalp pulling him into you. Lips devouring each other like it truly was your last night here.
He groaned as your nails grazed down his neck, tugging at his collar. He stepped forward pinning you firmly against the column and you could feel his excitement pressed to your thigh.
His fingers drew up and parted your skirt, until they found their mark. You moaned, pressing your face into the crook of his neck. Hand fisting into his dress shirt as his fingers delved between your legs.
“Billy”
“Do you want me to do that?”
Your reply was a garbled nonsense of words and noise.
“Do you want me to give you a baby?”
Your mind wanted to battle, to say no- not yet. To remind him it wouldn’t be yours. Not to keep. That as soon as that happened he’d be gone.
That it was all moving so fast and yet not fast enough. The blood was pounding in your ears. You were helpless and hopeless in the worst way.
And yet you knew resistance was futile.
“Yes.”
#billy russo#ben barnes#the punisher#billy russo x reader#billy russo x female reader#billy russo fanfic#ben barnes character#the punisher fanfiction#the punisher au#frank castle#billy russo smut#billy russo x you#alien!billyrusso#alien!billy x human!reader#expanding galaxies#alien au#marvel fanfic#marvel fanfiction
55 notes
·
View notes
Note
The song began, and Day perked up, recognizing the first few chords from the radio version. He smiled to himself, waiting for Mhok's husky, off-key voice, and the inevitable jeers of his friends.
But instead... it was definitely Mhok's voice, but - not at all what Day was expecting. Certainly not a professional singer's tone, but still warm and earnest, and the lyrics were making Day's palms feel sweaty, his heart beat a little louder. Day felt his smile fade, turning his ears to better catch the chorus.
"He's looking at you while he sings, you know," whispered Gee, shameless, in his ear.
Day made a face in her direction, but then he turned, trying - wishing, somehow - to see.
And for a moment, for just one fleeting moment -
He'd been a different him, in a different bar, while a different person played a different song... but it was still Mhok, maybe even his Mhok, wearing the same face and the same smile that he somehow knew was meant for only him. And the other Mhok gave the other Day the same butterfly feeling, deep in his chest, like stumbling into the recognition of something important, like a glimpse of a home built piece by piece, like a hug so warm you would cross a universe to find it -
And it faded, of course. The vision. Day shook his head, gently... it had only been a split second. Just his imagination.
The guitar slowed, and Mhok sang the last few bars quietly - almost sweet, for his rough tone. Around him, Day's friends began applauding, whooping, reaching for Day - "he really is good, eh?" "a professional singer, you said? I believe it..."
Day looked down, smiling to himself.
When Mhok asked about his red cheeks, after, Day planned to blame it on the liquor.
ANON IM SAYING THIS IN THE MOST AFFECTIONATE AND ADORING WAY POSSIBLE BUT ARE YOU - PERCHANCE - INSANE LIKE I STARTED READING THIS AND WAS ALREADY CLUTCHING MY CHEST TAKING CRITICAL DAMAGE THINKING IT WAS A MORKDAY FICLET WITH A MORE IN-DEPTH ANALYSIS OF DAY'S THOUGHTS DURING THE BAR SCENE BUT THEN THE PUENTALAY VISION HAPPENED AND I KNOW THAT AT THIS POINT IT'S A TRUTH UNIVERSALLY ACKNOWLEDGED THAT MORKDAY ARE PUENTALAY IN ANOTHER UNIVERSE BUT SEEING IT WRITTEN DOWN LIKE THIS SIMPLY HITS DIFFERENT I MEAN
"And the other Mhok gave the other Day the same butterfly feeling, deep in his chest, like stumbling into the recognition of something important, like a glimpse of a home built piece by piece, like a hug so warm you would cross a universe to find it -" >>> CRYING AND THROWING UP AND EATING GLASS AND GOING INTO CARDIAC ARREST AND MAKING A LOBOTOMY APPOINTMENT AND ENGAGING IN FITS OF FEMALE HYSTERIA TO COPE LIKE NOT THE LOVE THAT TRANSCENDS TIME AND SPACE SOULMATISM OF IT ALL HELLO POLICE?????????? I WANNA REPORT A MURDER!!!!!! I AM DYING!!!!!!!!!
ANYWAY IF ANYONE NEEDS ME I'LL BE DEAD IN A DITCH FOR THE REST OF THE EVENING GOOD NIGHT OR GOOD DAY TO ALL REGARDLESS THO
#ONE MORE STUNT LIKE THIS AND IMMA BE REAL SILENT ON MAIN CAUSE THEY'LL HAVE HAD TO INVOLUNTARILY COMMIT MY ASS FR#AT LEAST GIVE ME A WARNING ANON IM AN OLD WOMAN MY HEART CAN'T TAKE THIS#(JK YOU CAN SEND ME TO THE PSYCH WARD OR KILL ME DEAD WITHOUT PREVIOUS NOTICE WHENEVER YOU WANT ANON#I LOVE THIS I LOVE YOU THANK YOU FOR SENDING THIS TO ME)#vice versa#last twilight the series#morkday#puentalay#m: ask
27 notes
·
View notes
Text
the bracelet / park jongseong
synopsis: In a world where destiny and fate intertwine, two souls, seemingly strangers, are inexorably drawn together by a series of serendipitous events, unveiling a love story written in the stars and a connection that defies time and space. As they navigate the complexities of their intertwined lives, they discover that the universe had conspired to bring their soulmates together, forging an unbreakable bond that transcends the boundaries of the ordinary.
The streets of New York City hummed with the promise of an unforgettable summer. It was the kind of season that whispered secrets to lovers in hidden corners and spun tales of magic beneath the starry night sky. In the heart of this bustling metropolis, two souls were about to embark on a journey that would weave their destinies together in ways they couldn't have imagined.
Amid the backdrop of towering skyscrapers and neon lights, stood Y/N, a young artist with dreams as vibrant as her brush strokes. Her heart was a canvas of emotions, and her art told the stories she was too shy to speak. She had a favorite spot in Central Park, a bench beneath the shade of a colossal oak tree, where she would often sit for hours, sketching the world as she saw it.
On one fateful day, Y/N's sketchbook fell open to a page where she had drawn a delicate bracelet. It was no ordinary bracelet; it was a manifestation of a dream she had been holding onto since childhood. It was a bracelet she wished to give to someone who could unlock the hidden chambers of her heart.
Little did she know that across the city, in a dimly lit café nestled among the cobblestone streets of Greenwich Village, there sat Jay. A singer-songwriter with melodies that stirred souls and lyrics that touched hearts, Jay was known for capturing the essence of love in his music. But for all his talents, he had never truly felt the magic of love himself.
One day, as Jay strummed his guitar in the café, a fleeting image crossed his mind—a delicate bracelet adorned with tiny charms. It was as though the universe had whispered a secret into his ear, and he knew he had to find the creator of that bracelet, the person who held the key to his heart's desire.
As fate would have it, Y/N stumbled upon one of Jay's songs on the internet, a heartfelt ballad that spoke to her soul. The lyrics resonated with her, and she couldn't help but feel a connection to the person behind the music. She was determined to find him, to share her art and, in turn, unlock the door to her own heart.
After weeks of searching, Y/N finally discovered Jay's identity and the café where he often performed. She decided to take a leap of faith and attended one of his shows, clutching a sketch of the bracelet she had drawn and a burning desire to meet the person who had inspired her in ways she couldn't explain.
When Jay saw Y/N in the audience, he felt a sudden surge of emotion. It was as if the connection he had been seeking had materialized before him. As he sang his songs that night, his eyes never left Y/N's face.
After the show, Y/N approached Jay, her heart pounding in her chest. She handed him the sketch of the bracelet and said, "Your music inspired this. It's a symbol of a dream I've had for as long as I can remember."
Jay studied the sketch, his eyes filled with wonder. "It's beautiful," he whispered. "I can't believe you made this."
From that moment on, Jay and Y/N's lives became intertwined. They spent their days wandering the city, sharing their dreams, and finding inspiration in each other's presence. Jay's music became the soundtrack of their love story, and Y/N's art became a testament to their connection.
One summer evening, as the sun set over the Hudson River, Jay surprised Y/N with a bracelet—a real one, not just a sketch. It was adorned with tiny charms that symbolized their journey together, and it was a promise of a love that would endure.
As they sat on a park bench, the same one where Y/N often sketched, Jay took Y/N's hand and gently placed the bracelet around her wrist. "You've unlocked my heart, Y/N," he said, his voice filled with emotion.
Y/N smiled, her eyes shining with love. "And you've filled my life with music and magic."
Their love story, inspired by a sketch of a bracelet and serenaded by the melodies of a soulful singer, was a testament to the power of art, music, and the unbreakable bond that could be formed when two hearts connected in the heart of a bustling city. In the summer of their love, they discovered that sometimes, the most extraordinary dreams could come true in the most unexpected ways, and they vowed to cherish their love story as the most precious masterpiece of all.
#park jongseong#park jay#enhypen#engene#enhypen jay#park jay x reader#park jay imagines#park jay x you#park jongseong x reader#park jongseong imagines#park jongseong fluff#park jongseong scenarios#enhypen imagines#enha#enhypen au#enhypen fluff#enhypen x reader#enhypen scenarios#jay enhypen#jongseong#hybe#beliftlab
21 notes
·
View notes
Note
hiiiii can i request an imagine for garrett wilson? it doesn’t have to be a specific prompt
October ✧
W/C: 950
C/W: Fluff, Kissing
A/N: I’m so sorry this took fucking forever, I’ve been sick and inactive 😭. It you couldn’t tell after reading this, i was writing this while listening to we fell in love in october by girl in red on repeat.
Not proofread, i’m too lazy and wanted to get this out.
Disclaimer: I do NOT own Garret Wilson, or the New York Jets and I am not affiliated with them in any way. This is a fictional story.
The crisp evening air brushed softly against my skin as I leaned against the railing, watching the city lights glisten in the distance. Garrett joined me on the rooftop, a familiar sight of comfort and love. I smiled as he wrapped his arm around my waist, drawing me closer to his warmth. The sweet scent of his cologne mixed with the faint trail of cigarette smoke that lingered around us. Somehow, the combination felt right. "You look so pretty, babygirl," Garrett murmured, pressing a gentle kiss to the top of my head. "And I love this view, but not as much as I love you."
I tilted my head to gaze at him, feeling a rush of warmth spread through my face. "You're such a romantic, Garrett," I teased, my voice filled with affection and love. "Only when I'm with you," he replied with a grin, his bright eyes reflecting the starry night above. "We fell in love in October, and that's why I love fall."
I chuckled and traced invisible designs onto his chest. "You and your poetic heart," I said, letting the peace of the moment settle around us. As we stood there, looking at the stars and admiring the city lights from afar, I couldn't help but feel an overwhelming sense of contentment. Garrett was my best friend, my love, and my world.
"My girl, my girl, my girl," Garrett sang softly, the melody of the words weaving through the calm evening air.
His voice, raw and tender, filled the space between us, wrapping me up in a cocoon of love and warmth. "My world, my world, my world" he continued, his fingers tracing delicate patterns on my arm. "You are be my world."
I turned to face him fully, my heart swelling with affection and adoration for this man who cherished me so deeply. "Garrett, you always know how to make me feel special," I murmured, my voice filled with emotion. "Because you are special, babygirl," he said, brushing a strand of hair away from my face. "To me, you're everything. Don’t forget that, babygirl."
In that moment, I knew the depth of his love was beyond measure. We lingered in each other’s embrace, savoring the quiet intimacy that enveloped us. However, our reverie was interrupted by the distant sound of laughter and chatter from the streets below, reminding us of the bustling world beyond our rooftop haven.
"Don't bother looking down," Garrett said, his voice filled with determination. "We're not going that way. I nodded, understanding his unspoken promise to always lift me up, to shield me from the weight of the world. At least I know, I am here to stay.
The peaceful silence of the night wrapped around us, broken only by the rhythmic inhales and exhales of our cigarettes as we gazed at the vast expanse of the star-studded sky. "We fell in love in October," Garrett murmured, his words laced with nostalgia. "That's why I love fall. It's when everything felt so right."
I leaned in, resting my head against his shoulder, inhaling the familiar scent of his cologne. "I feel the same way," I confessed, my heart swelling with a mix of emotions. Garrett's hand found mine, and our fingers intertwined, creating a bond that spoke volumes without needing words.
A peaceful silence enveloped us once more, punctuated only by the gentle hum of the city below, the distant echoes of life unfolding beyond our rooftop retreat. In that moment, with the man I loved by my side, I realized that the beauty of our romance transcended words. It was found in the quiet moments, the shared glances, and the unspoken understanding between us.
Our reverie was broken by the sudden vibration of Garrett's phone in his pocket, jolting us back to the world of responsibilities and distractions. He glanced at the screen and let out a soft sigh. "I have to head back for an early training session tomorrow," he said with a hint of regret.
I nodded, though a pang of longing tugged at my heart. "I understand. Duty calls." As we made our way back downstairs, the familiar comfort of our shared apartment welcomed us, wrapping us in the embrace of familiar scents and memories.
The next morning, I awoke to the sound of the coffee pot brewing in the kitchen. Garrett stood by the window, wearing his Jets jersey, his gaze fixed on the city awakening with the dawn.
"Good morning, beautiful," he called out with a smile, his eyes crinkling at the corners. I made my way to the kitchen, enveloped by the rich aroma of freshly brewed coffee. "Good morning," I replied, leaning in to press a tender kiss to his cheek.
We settled into our morning routine, the subtle banter and shared laughter weaving through the air, creating a tapestry of comfort and familiarity. After breakfast, Garrett gathered his gym bag and kissed me goodbye, promising to return early in the evening.
Alone in the apartment, I relished in the tranquility of the day, indulging in a novel that had been beckoning me for weeks. Hours passed in a blur, lost in the world of fiction, until the shrill ring of the doorbell brought me back to reality.
I hurried to the door, awaiting Garrett's familiar grin. I swung the door open to greet his face adorned by his charming smile staring right into me. I move out of the way so he can come inside, immediately he walks in and wraps his arms around my waist and pulls me in for a passionate kiss. “I love you Garrett.” “I love you too babygirl.”
I hope you enjoyed reading, have an amazing rest of your day :)
Please do not copy my work, or repost it without credit and my permission. (Reblogs are okay, I appreciate it if you reblog!)
3 notes
·
View notes
Note
If you have any headcanons to share about ArSen characters (either canon or your OCs) and singing, I'd love to hear! :)
Aaaaaaaa I think I got a couple! Hold up lemme try to recall them:
When Isfan is doing something, he tends to hum soft lil tunes absently. Is it a particular song? Ehh, not really. Literally just no thoughts head empty just random tunes.
Zaravant whistles a lot. I don't know why I hc him that way.
Shapur has sung lullabies to soothe a smol Isfan countless times. Perhaps even every night. It helps little Isfan sleep, and calm down after nightmares.
I somehow can't get the mental image of Daryun singing something with an evil grin and Narsus trying to shut it out being all “STOOOOP YOU MONSTER”. I don't know what Daryun would be singing to get Narsus to react like that, but it's clear he's doing it on purpose to mess with Narsus.
Isfan tends to find a melody in nature— like say, the slow pitter-patter of raindrops, some frog croaking in the distance, stuff like that. His innate connection with nature also meant that he can feel out its melody. He thinks everyone else can do it too though. Oh and sometimes his humming can be influenced by whatever he hears out there in nature.
Merlaine appreciates a good singing voice. Maybe he'd prefer softer, quieter songs, perhaps to contrast his father's (very bad) loud boisterous singing voice?
Alfarīd likes to sing, and dance too. If there's a celebration or something she'd be one of the people dancing to the joy. I think she'd make quite a merry dancer, can't tell you why though.
I think Arslan would like to sing and dance too, but is too shy to do it, afraid people might think it's improper. Somebody should push him to do it.
Sam has a nice voice, but he often doesn't know what to sing so he just doesn't. What a waste!
It's been a very long time since Hilmes sang. He last did it for Irina, perhaps under the excuse of teaching her about Parsian music or something, lol. I think a smol Hilmes before the fire may have expressed interest in picking up an instrument or something. It's just the vibes I got.
Irina looooooves music. She sings and hums a lot too, and makes cute lil noises. She always asks Militsa to sing for her, and who'd say no to a face like that?
Ayyar always pesters his grandpa to sing for him. And he always sings along too.
In Winds of Wolfsong, the clan has so. many. things. centered around song and dance. Solstices and equinoxes? Let's sing and dance! Many of their history and myths? Songs! Celebration? Song! Funeral? Song! There are games played by families or just bored colleagues where they piece random songs together or come up with lyrics on the fly or stuff like that. Just... songs.
On that note, music is thought to be the bridge between worlds, the language of all languages that transcend barriers. It's used as a medium to communicate with spirits, and they have traditional dances— dances to old and ancient melodies endeavoring to sync up the body and soul to what the song is conveying, if that makes sense? It's also a form of magic. Not every clan member is a dancer, though.
Kazai's a dancer. Arslan is too. Gieve sings, and plays the oud as in canon, but with a magical twist of course. Maybe he too uses it to ask spirits questions. Ayunnen and Kashi used to sing together under the moonlight. In this AU too Farangis sings and chants melodic prayers— just not to the Parsian gods. Isfan sings a lot more in this AU too.
Ayunnen had the gentlest, most soothing voice you've probably ever heard. Kashi's voice was... hm, how do I describe it— stronger? firmer? Something like that.
Shapur seems like someone who'd sing for his beloved.
So this seems to be all I can recall at the top of my head for now! I hope you enjoyed it!!
#arslan senki#the heroic legend of arslan#heroic legend of arslan#shapur#isfan#farangis#gieve#manuchurh#ayyar#irina#militsa#hilmes#arslan#alfarīd#merlaine#zaravant#daryun#narsus#sam#ayunnen (oc)#kashi (oc)#kazai (oc)#headcanons#these are all so incoherent hhhhhh
60 notes
·
View notes
Text
[BASS DRUM BEATEN LOUDLY]
Booth led boldly with his big bass drum—
(Are you washed in the blood of the Lamb?)
The Saints smiled gravely and they said: “He’s come.”
(Are you washed in the blood of the Lamb?)
Walking lepers followed, rank on rank,
Lurching bravoes from the ditches dank,
Drabs from the alleyways and drug fiends pale—
Minds still passion-ridden, soul-powers frail:—
Vermin-eaten saints with mouldy breath,
Unwashed legions with the ways of Death—
(Are you washed in the blood of the Lamb?)
[BANJOS]
Every slum had sent its half-a-score
The round world over. (Booth had groaned for more.)
Every banner that the wide world flies
Bloomed with glory and transcendent dyes.
Big-voiced lasses made their banjos bang,
Tranced, fanatical they shrieked and sang:—
“Are you washed in the blood of the Lamb?”
Hallelujah! It was queer to see
Bull-necked convicts with that land make free.
Loons with trumpets blowed a blare, blare, blare
On, on upward thro’ the golden air!
(Are you washed in the blood of the Lamb?)
[BASS DRUM SLOWER AND SOFTER]
Booth died blind and still by Faith he trod,
Eyes still dazzled by the ways of God.
Booth led boldly, and he looked the chief
Eagle countenance in sharp relief,
Beard a-flying, air of high command
Unabated in that holy land.
[SWEET FLUTE MUSIC]
Jesus came from out the court-house door,
Stretched his hands above the passing poor.
Booth saw not, but led his queer ones there
Round and round the mighty court-house square.
Yet in an instant all that blear review
Marched on spotless, clad in raiment new.
The lame were straightened, withered limbs uncurled
And blind eyes opened on a new, sweet world.
[BASS DRUM LOUDER]
Drabs and vixens in a flash made whole!
Gone was the weasel-head, the snout, the jowl!
Sages and sibyls now, and athletes clean,
Rulers of empires, and of forests green!
[GRAND CHORUS OF ALL INSTRUMENTS.
TAMBOURINES TO THE FOREGROUND]
The hosts were sandalled, and their wings were fire!
(Are you washed in the blood of the Lamb?)
But their noise played havoc with the angel-choir.
(Are you washed in the blood of the Lamb?)
O shout Salvation! It was good to see
Kings and Princes by the Lamb set free.
The banjos rattled and the tambourines
Jing-jing-jingled in the hands of Queens.
[REVERENTLY SUNG. NO INSTRUMENTS]
And when Booth halted by the curb for prayer
He saw his Master thro’ the flag-filled air.
Christ came gently with a robe and crown
For Booth the soldier, while the throng knelt down.
He saw King Jesus. They were face to face,
And he knelt a-weeping in that holy place.
Are you washed in the blood of the Lamb?
4 notes
·
View notes
Note
good evening, my liege. might i humbly request a devastating combination of angsty shippy goodness and high fantasy dnd-esque shenanigans (you already know which pairing i'm gonna ask for hwehwehwe)
THANK YOU THAT DEVESTATING COMBO IS MY FAVORITE
And I sure hope you meant Thalia/Cullen cuz that’s what I’m writing. With some added Samson to make things really terrible. This is gonna start off the next chapter of my nightmare!au, aka Through a Glass, Darkly.
For @dadrunkwriting
WC: 2015
CW: Psychological torture 🤷♀️
---
Head bowed, face resting against the cold bars, Cullen let the hunger win. With a feral cry, he lunged his arm through the space between the metal, scraping, clawing… and falling short. He slumped forward, arm going limp, and winced at the terrible ache in his shoulder.
The chalice of red lyrium remained just out of reach.
It was all intentional. Samson’s doing. Cullen had watched the vile man set the elaborate trap himself, in the space between his cell and the raging waterfall. A guard brought a small, round table, upon which Samson placed a chalice. Carved from obsidian into a grotesque likeness of Corypheus, its mangled limbs reached skyward.
“The rules are very simple,” Samson had murmured as he unscrewed a bottle and filled the chalice to the brim with a viscous crimson liquid. “All you’ve got to do is ask, and we’ll give it to you.”
“I’m going to kill you,” Cullen said quietly, from the corner of his cell.
“Yes, yes,” Samson said, waving a dismissive hand in Cullen’s direction. “Heard that one before. Hey, d’you remember when we were recruits? The first time they poured us the lyrium, in goblets with Andraste’s face on it?” He capped the bottle. “Or did they do it differently in Ferelden?”
It had been the same. Cullen remembered accepting the silver cup with great ceremony, fingers wound around the carving of Andraste. The first hit of the shimmering blue: the sweet tingling taste, its instant warmth. A feeling of transcendence, of peace. He had thought it a religious visitation, and hadn’t understood the truth until much later, when it was already too late.
He grimaced.
“I’ll take that as a yes,” Samson quipped. He pushed the chalice to edge of the table. “Consider this an initiation of another sort. To the worship of a different prophet, if that helps.”
The cup of red sang. Its music curled into the air; seductive susurrations reached him despite the distance. Cullen dug his heels into the stone, tried to push himself further into the corner.
A smirk tugged at Samson’s lips. “I know you can hear it. ’S beautiful, innit?”
“Shut up.” Cullen covered his ears, but it made no difference. The song vibrated in his teeth, pulsed through his veins. He’d been without lyrium for so long, thought he had beaten it, but the call of the red ignited a need that lie dormant, not dead. He let out a shuddering breath and pressed his palms to the floor.
Sensing his discomfort, Samson gave a helpless shrug. “We could’ve done this the easy way, you’ll recall. This is the path you’ve chosen, not me. You ask nicely, and you’ll receive. Otherwise…” He paused, voice sobering. “I’ve watched men go mad. Don’t take long. You won’t even have to touch it… though you’ll try.”
“I won’t,” Cullen snapped.
Samson shot him a look that was almost pity. “You will.”
They watched one another in silence, each sizing the other up. They’d been taught the same techniques, after all: Cullen saw Samson’s sunken eyes searching him for weak points, and Cullen did the same. Samson was gaunter than ever, skin an ashen grey. The red lyrium built him up, but it was taking its toll. It’ll kill him eventually, Cullen thought, though that was scant comfort.
“And a ‘please’ would be nice,” Samson added.
Cullen looked to the ceiling. “Oh, go fuck yourself.”
Samson barked out a laugh. “Always did like it better when you showed some teeth.” The mirth vanished as soon as it appeared. “I’m going to miss that about you, kid.”
He sounded so sincere, Cullen almost believed him. Samson turned to leave, and a terrible sense of loss filled Cullen. They had been friends, once.
The grief burned away to rage. This was the man who had taken everything from him: his life, his career, a cause worth fighting for. Even Thalia, whom he’d believed dead, only to have her dangled in front of him, the carrot on Samson’s stick.
And Cullen was the ass.
He stumbled to his feet, heedless of the scarlet siren call, and charged the cell door. He clutched the metal bars and shook them. They held fast, but produced a satisfying rattle nonetheless.
“Where is she?” Cullen demanded to Samson’s retreating back. “Where is she?”
Samson halted, turned. In the shadows of the dungeon corridor, his face was reduced to a spectral profile.
“You don’t deserve her,” Samson said softly, and left.
Samson had been right. Cullen did try to reach the chalice, again and again and again. Time was difficult to gauge in the dank darkness, but he suspected it had taken hours, not days. He was not proud of this, and at first the guilt had pounded in his ears as he stretched and grasped. Soon, however, there was no room for shame: the song subsumed it all, a red rhapsody that burrowed deep within him and purged everything but the need.
Guards brought meals, but he left the trays all but untouched. Neither food nor drink could sate him. Yet when asked if he wanted anything else, Cullen refused to speak: he would not bend, he would not beg. Each time, the Red Templar gave him a dead-eyed stare and downed the contents of the chalice whole. It was replaced it with another, freshly poured and even more potent. His sullen jailers lacked the mocking tones of Samson, but Cullen imagined other messages in their silences: Just give in. It’s easier this way.
It would be. When the fits seized him, and his vision swam in shades of vermilion, the violence of his own body surprised him. Bruises covered limbs and torso from repeated impact with the cell bars. He heard whispers from the other prisoners, that he had been driven insane. Yes, probably. Yes.
He let out a growl of frustration and dragged himself from the door. He lie on the cold stones and stared at the ceiling, exhaustion battling the compulsion to try again.
Should he give in? What a relief it would be to look the guard in his crimson eyes and say, Just one. Please, just one swallow, that’s all I need. Though that would be a lie, and they’d both know it.
He was trembling. He rolled onto his side and drew his arms around himself. He felt feverish, damp with sweat, freezing and burning at the same time. If he only said Please…
We’ve been here before, haven’t we, young templar? whispered a voice in his ear. Cullen looked around in panic. Shadows played on the walls, and coalesced into a sickening silhouette that had long haunted his dreams.
“No, no, no,” he said to the shade of Uldred. “You’re dead.”
And so soon will you be, if you don’t drink.
“I’d rather die, than live like that,” Cullen spat.
Strange, that you never said as much to me in Kinloch Hold. I could have ended your misery then.
So this was what madness felt like: strangely familiar, like what lie behind the walls he’d tried to build since the nightmare in the Ferelden Circle. He crawled into a corner and closed his eyes. “Don’t listen. It isn’t real.” He felt like he was back there, again a scared teenager, grasping at scripture to protect him. Snippets from the Chant of Light surfaced in his mind, whispered fiercely through cracked lips:
“‘World-making Glory,’ I cried out in sorrow, ‘How shall Your children apology make? We have forgotten, in ignorance stumbling, only a Light in this darken’d time breaks. Call to Your children, teach us Your greatness. What has been forgotten has not yet been lost.’ ‘World-making Glory,’ I cried out in sorrow…”
Some time later, movement outside his cell snatched him from his trance. He jerked his head up, mumbling, worried it was either another hallucination or an approaching guard. He crept closer to the bars, search for the source of the disturbance. All looked unchanged: the table, the chalice, the tumbledown stones, the roaring waterfall.
And a ring of keys, dripping wet.
Cullen blinked fiercely, but the keys did not vanish. He stared at them, transfixed, then took a surreptitious glance in both directions outside his cell. This section of the jail was, as usual, deserted.
He reached through the bars, trying to hook a finger around the keyring.
A hand flew out of the falls, slamming onto the floor for purchase.
Cullen froze.
A second hand joined the first. This one emitted a ghostly emerald light, as if bits of the nightmarish sky itself were embedded into its palm. A length of chain connected one wrist to the other.
Cullen raised himself onto hands and knees and watched as a girl hoisted herself from the water, soaked to the skin and shivering. She rolled into her back and let out a coughing fit that wracked her entire body. She had hair plastered to her head, so wet it could be any color, and her lips were blue.
She turned her head toward him, and he saw the tattoo encircling her eye.
Cullen screamed. He scrambled backward on all fours until he hit the far wall of his cell. The girl was on her feet now, keyring in hand, trying to speak. He couldn’t hear her over the raw terror emanating from his throat.
“You’re not real,” he accused, pointing at her, “you’re not real, it’s a trick, it’s a trick, GO AWAY!”
The girl who was not Thalia — who could not be Thalia, no one could emerge from the falls like that, she’d have drowned — fumbled with one key, then another and another. Finally, one fit into the lock, and the door to his cell swung open. The apparition approached, blue eyes wide, hands out as if to calm a wild animal.
“Cullen, it’s me. Cullen, please, it’s okay. It’s going to be okay, shhh, you need to be quiet, please…”
He clamped his palms against his ears. “Just leave, I beseech you. I won’t drink, I won’t, I’ll die first, please don’t stand there looking like her, I can’t take it, not again…”
The ghost girl knelt beside him, face terribly sad, murmuring things he did not catch. She did not try to touch him. She waited, speaking calmly. Her voice did not penetrate into his mind the way Uldred’s had, the way the abominations had, long ago.
Trembling, he removed his hands from his head and stared at her. She looked real — though thinner than he recalled, sopping wet and deathly pale. He had a vision of her, stumbling out of the blinding snow in the mountains beyond Haven, as impossible then as it was now. A miracle, said something inside him.
“Thalia?” he asked.
She nodded.
He reached out and crushed her in a hug. She was so cold. It scared him. Her clothes seeped water into his prisoner’s rags, but he didn’t care. She was smaller than him, and if he enveloped her long enough, maybe he could breathe some life back into her.
Suddenly, they were kissing each other: deeply, desperately. Her skin was clammy, though as he put his lips on her mouth, her cheeks, her eyelids, some of the water clinging to her felt salty and warm.
“Cullen,” she said softly, and then with insistence: “Cullen.”
He stopped at last, resting his forehead against hers, not wanting to pull away. She reached up, cradled his face with both hands and looked into his eyes.
“We need to go.”
“Go where?” he blurted, but gazing back at her, at the water sluicing off her, he understood. Fear shot through him. “We can’t. You’ll die. We’ll both die.”
“We won’t,” she said, taking his hand in both of hers. “But if we stay here any longer, they’ll catch us. I need you to trust me.”
The chains between her wrists were so heavy, weighing her down. How had she managed? How had she not been killed, a thousand times over?
“All right,” he said, the terror pounding in his chest. “I trust you.”
#cullen rutherford#thalia trevelyan#raleigh samson#cullen x trevelyan#nightmare!au#red lyrium#i'm not even sorry#dragon age inquisition#dragon age drunk writing circle#fics
19 notes
·
View notes
Note
for the questions meme, tried not to send you a ton but still ended up with 5 ^^'
10, 22, 28, 36, and 81?
feel free to skip or answer any with ocs instead if you'd prefer!
[Original Post]
No worries!!! Thank you for all these questions!!! I'll start with my own answers:
10. HIKE TO A MOUNTAIN TOP TO WATCH THE SUNRISE OR DRIVE OUT OF TOWN TO STARGAZE?
OOOOH these are both my vibe. Uuhhh. Depends on if I’m with someone or not?
If I’m alone, I could totally go on a hike and watch the sunset. I have done in-depth daydreams about this.
If I am with someone, I’d live to drive somewhere and just star-gaze, and maybe have a deep conversation! (Also I don’t have a license so I can’t drive lol)
22. WHAT’S THE WEIRDEST THING YOU’VE SEEN SOMEONE DO IN PUBLIC?
Those guys who pass out CDs, like the scam ones. Where they give the CD, make you pay for it, and such. It’s such a weird scam? Like there has to be a better way to scam someone right? Just, anyone that tries to force products onto others, it’s so weird and awkward lol.
28. WHAT’S YOUR FAVORITE HOLIDAY TRADITION?
I have a couple:
. Our family bean dip recipe (for any occasion)
. Easter & NEW YEARS Brunch!!!
. My aunt would make specific desserts for any film/show related party, like The Oscars or The Super Bowl (not a holiday, but it feels like one!)
. basically food.
36. IF YOU COULD LEARN ONE LANGUAGE FLUENTLY WHAT WOULD IT BE?
SPANISH! I used to know if fluently when I was a little baby (first ever word was “Gato”)
I’ve been slowly learning, but I doubt what I’m learning is actually useful in conversations… but I barely know anyone IRL that speaks spanish, so duolingo is unfortunately the closest resources.
81. WHAT BOOKS INFLUENCED YOU MOST AS A CHILD?
Everything I could get my hands on (except the ones we read in school. Ew. those were so bad.)
EXCEPT ONE THAT TRANSCENDED AND IMPRESSED MY BABY ASS: The Westing Game.
It’s a mystery with a giant cast, and so much happens in it, I hated 50% of the characters, the twist blew my mind but is actually extremely obvious when you think about for 5 seconds BUT I DIDN’T because I was a kid who read most of the A-Z Mysteries series books and loved them too.
Take this all with a grain of salt though, I have not read The Westing Game or A-Z Mysteries in probably 10 years so… hopefully they aged well…
Also because characters rot my brain, I have randomly selected one character to answer these questions with: [[ DULCE!!! ]]
10. HIKE TO A MOUNTAIN TOP TO WATCH THE SUNRISE OR DRIVE OUT OF TOWN TO STARGAZE?
Oh 100% Stargaze. She’s got a car and she’s driving to every known destination just to peek at that night sky and contemplate her location in the universe!
22. WHAT’S THE WEIRDEST THING YOU’VE SEEN SOMEONE DO IN PUBLIC?
In the Oblivion, you see a lot of weird things, but definitely the strangest would have to be that one kid who sang on that karaoke night… What was his name… he had really strange eyes… sang a really strange song… had wings all over his face… and those eyes…
28. WHAT’S YOUR FAVORITE HOLIDAY TRADITION?
Dulce’s favorite tradition would be the Sage Battle! It happens annually at the Olympus (the city she lives in) art festival.
It’s like a competition between two magic scholars where they come up with a question and have to fight for their side. It involves magic, moving art, and lots of cool displays of (very little) violence!!!
They almost always end in a draw, but that’s what she loves about them!!
36. IF YOU COULD LEARN ONE LANGUAGE FLUENTLY WHAT WOULD IT BE?
She’d love to learn Arcadian (the language the nomadic group of Arcadia speaks.) Many of her family are there, and she considers herself to be one despite having only been around them when she was a baby. She’s currently taking a class on it… but it doesn’t feel the same as being there…
81. WHAT BOOKS INFLUENCED YOU MOST AS A CHILD?
There were many artbooks that Dulce came across as a child. Growing up Arcadian meant she had access to knowledge all over the Oblivion, which made her very well aware of the world. The artbooks of the world especially interested her.
There was always an annual catalog of artistic inventions called the “Artificer’s Almanac” that covered most creative endeavors from every city. As well as the Eden Fair, which is when people from all over come to show off newer advancements in science and the wonderful creations of creatives!
It inspired her need to work with crafts, she even takes many workshop classes… the only downside being she can’t travel anymore and thus has less access to such a diverse array of books.
1 note
·
View note
Last Seen Blogs
zsult
Danish Dynamite
disneyprincessconcertfans
"Disney Princess - The Concert" Fans
animehideout
Anime Escape
atphuntic
Rin 🧚♀️💫