#pietru

[cyjon]

Grumpy Boi Versa Pietru Ko-Fi commission for Dahgraz!  There’s no more rude way to wake someone than shining a light onto their face :c

[cyjon]

Makili Pietru Despair bringer

[gisud]

Mix na non-secular

الحمد لله‎

Talaan:

01 Deniece Williams - Healing

02 Himig Heswita - Huwag Kang Mangamba

03 D' Echo - Kuptan Ko Ang Paglaum

04 Holy Name of Mary Choral Family - He'll Give Us What We Really Need

05 Coro De Sagrada Familia - Paghahandog Sa Sarili (live)

06 Jack Holcomb  - Why Should He Love Me So

07 Karen Hua-Qi Han, James Harrah, Mark Hollingsworth, Wayne Jones - Temple of Peace

08 Gary Granada - Itabok ug Ihatod Ta Ka

09 Om - Haqq al-Yaqin

10 Barbie Almalbis - Lights

11 Mr Lynx - Jah Love

12 Rey Malipot (JMM) - Pagsibol (live)

13 Clarence Bautista - Karatunan Ning Pusu

Pietru

[spine]

all the things you love

Here's my fic for the Canoe Christmas, for Pietru! Unfortunately, it's not finished, but it will be soon! <3

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“Living without someone… well, that’s the worst curse imaginable.”

Endless memories swirl throughout their minds as they search each other’s eyes for comfort. Emerald hues offer strength, lined with the hope that goes unspoken between them. There isn’t much time; there never has been, but what’s left is rapidly fleeting, leaving them pressed up against one another and holding on for what neither of them wants to believe to be the last time. The walls around them shake, stone crumbling and leaving gaps in their wake. Lithe fingers press firmly into tan flesh, the smaller brunet desperately trying to stop the tears from spilling onto his pale cheeks.

The blond leans forward, a gentle kiss spreading kind warmth across his lover’s skin as his lips claim the ones they’ve come to know so well. Flesh gently parts as they kiss, eradicating the chaos from their minds. They stand together, holding on before they break their kiss apart, a strong hand cupping the nape of the shorter prince’s neck as they do.

“I,” the brunet whispers, too afraid to open his eyes and see the madness sweeping around them. The blond wraps a strong arm around his waist, as if attempting to console all of his love’s worries with the simple motion. It doesn’t stop what’s happening around them, or the words that spill from frightened lips. “I love you.”

His eyes slip open, finding a gracious smile greeting him. The castle continues to fall, black mist slithering in through crevices and exposed holes. It races upon them before either can speak again, engulfing them as they end as they knew they always would – in the arms of the one they loved. Green and glasz fade away just as the last fragment of light left catches on an ethereal chord, tangled about the bodies of the two even as they’re ripped from their world. The chord glints a vibrant red before it disappears, almost as if it were never there at all.

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

Sometimes, when he’s caught in-between dreaming and reality, Kurt swears that he can feel the slightest ghost of pressure against his fingers, as if there’s an invisible entity lightly tracing circles into the skin of his hand. Before he’d met Blaine, he’d always fantasized that the force was his mother, who used to tell him that she’d always be watching over him. When he’d dated Blaine, he thought it’d be romantic to believe that the tracings were somehow the former Warbler’s doings, as if the feeling was something that would come with time – in their future, they’d be able to wake up to one another and rest in bed for hours, just enjoying their company together. But when he was with Blaine, he never felt the ghosting along his skin in the morning time. He always awoke alone, no invisible sensations tingling on his skin. He had missed them, missed the dreams that made such feelings possible.

The dreams returned sometime after Kurt had ended his relationship with Blaine. The first morning he’d woken up with a new fire burning in his soul, vivid dreams that seemed real enough to have been reality still playing throughout his mind. He’d dreamt of horseback rides through dark forests, his arms wrapped around the waist of a blond hero that seemed so familiar yet couldn’t be placed.

His prince’s face had never been seen, and Kurt had a sneaking suspicion that it might never be. Good things didn’t seem to line up for the countertenor, even in the form of his mystery hero; it would always be something that would be just out of reach, so close to him yet always slipping from his grasp.

That was the life that Kurt had become accustomed to. Just since the beginning of his senior year, he’d already lost the lead role of Tony to Blaine and managed to lose McKinley’s presidential election. He and Blaine had ended things a week before he’d gotten the smallest rejection letter from NYADA possible, sending Kurt in a lonely spiral that had him coming home and seeking comfort in the familiarity of his home routines. Finn had tried to cheer him up on multiple occasions, but the brunet had yet to be pulled from his funk.

Kurt knew it was selfish of him, but graduation was only so far away, and he’d yet to figure out anything past being stuck in Lima. It seemed that every chance for him to ever have a happy ending was being ripped away from him before he ever got a chance to experience it.

One particular morning, Kurt refused to open his eyes, hoping to cling to the dreams even as they slipped away. He tried to get his hero to turn around and face him, to catch a glimpse of more than that half-cocked smirk that he’d captured once upon a time. No matter how hard he tried though, the warmth of his room had him steadily waking, pulling the sleeping boy back into reality. The familiar sensation was spreading through his right hand where it lay atop his pillow, the cuff of his pajama sleeve stopping short of his wrist. His lips curled into a tiny smile at the feeling, happy that he still had the beloved sensation to hold on to.

“There’s the smile I’ve missed.”  

Glasz meets an intense green as Kurt’s eyes shoot open at the voice, and his hand feels suddenly empty as he yanks it close to his chest. Sam gives a little laugh as he pulls his own away, a faint blush disappearing from his cheeks. Kurt hurries to pull the covers over his head, mumbling incoherently all the while, but his intruder refuses to back down, tugging at Kurt’s duvet firmly.

“C’mon Kurt, I’m taking you out on the town today. I’m not letting you accept defeat; that’s not the Kurt Hummel that I know.”

When Sam finally manages to uncover the frowning Hummel, Kurt has knitted brows and has his arms crossed sternly. He goes to speak, but the blond cuts him off, a frighteningly familiar half-smile tearing him from any complaints he was about to offer up.

“I think you’ll like what I have in mind.”

As Sam turns to leave his room, Kurt swears he sees two things: the blond’s tiny wink and a hint of red string that catches momentarily in the sunlight.

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

How exactly he found himself in the passenger seat of Sam’s truck is a mystery to Kurt, but he finds that he doesn’t mind as much as he thinks he should. The way the blond keeps stealing glances at him makes the countertenor fidget in his seat, but any questions that he goes to ask always fall short before he can get them out. There’s something about the way that Sam watches him as he sings, nudging his side playfully in an attempt to get him to sing along that makes Kurt realize he doesn’t mind the ride after all.

When they reach their destination, Sam’s truck giving a hearty lurch as it comes to a stop, Kurt looks out the window to the park that greets its visitors, finding it abandoned except for the truck that its only visitors currently reside in. He shoots Sam an inquisitive look, but the blond is tightlipped, only answering by shutting his truck door behind him and motioning for Kurt to join him outside.

“It’s just up ahead,” Sam chuckles, his big hand waving for his friend to follow. With a polite sigh and a curious glint in his eyes, Kurt does. He steps out of the vehicle and gingerly shuts the door behind him, words falling past his lips for the first time since he’d woken.

“And just where are you taking me, Samuel?”

The response is a lighthearted, “you’ll see,” the blond’s hand playfully wrapping around Kurt’s wrist as he begins leading him throughout the park. He rolls his eyes as he’s pulled along, but he knows that wherever Sam leads him, he’ll be in for a treat. He’d never known the blond to let him down before.

And as Sam laughs into the morning breeze, Kurt realizes just how doubtful he is that the blond ever will.