golden frames and watercolor (headcanons of a museum date with Loki)
Timeline: after Thor Ragnarok
TW: no one
Pairing: Loki x female!y/n
Note: I always thought about Loki being fascinated by human art and poetry, so what is going to happen If you decide to bring him to a museum date? Let's see đš
he's so curious when you tell him that you've organised something special just for the two of us for the day
but he was offended when you revealed him that you paid for his ticket, he still has difficult to accept gifts event from you (but inside he's melting and he's so grateful)
when Loki leads you through the museum, his hidden malice is evident in the way he points out subtle details in the artworks
when you both pause in front of a surrealist painting, he offers an unconventional interpretation that leaves you both laughing
"My dear, look, the art of deception. These paintings tell stories, just like you and I."
"Hopefully, our story has a happier ending than some of these artworks."
always hold your hand as you navigate through the art-filled halls
when you find a hidden corner in the museum, Loki conjures a small illusion, and make the painting looks animated just for seeing your eyes shining in admiration
with his enchantments he deactivated the alarm and let you touch the canvas so you can feel the ancient texture
you can catch him looking silently at some little painting, realizing that even the God of Mischief can be captivated by simple beauty
"Loki, I never thought I'd see you admire a watercolor."
"Watercolor has a delicate beauty, much like... vulnerability. Don't tell anyone I said that."
he's mesmerized by all the golden frames full of baroques details, at the point he wants to buy some for himself
"Would you like me to buy one of these my dear?"
"LOKI THIS IS AN ORIGINAL FRAGONARD."
he might challenges you to a friendly competition of finding the most beautiful canvas (of course he's going to support only his opinion)
he definitely wraps his long coat around your shoulders as you both explore a section of the museum with a chill in the air
sometimes he whispering you how beautiful you are, just to making you smile and adding a bit of sweetness
"These paintings capture the essence of mortals and their fleeting emotions."
"Is that a hint of sentiment I detect, Loki?"
"Sentiment? No, just an observation. Though, I must admit, the company does add a certain warmth to the experience."
as you explore a contemporary art exhibit, Loki playfully mimics some of the avant-garde poses of the sculptures, making you laugh
spotting an interactive exhibit, Loki challenges you to a friendly game of art-related trivia, showcasing his extensive knowledge with a mischievous grin
when you both stumble upon a live art performance, Loki, appreciating the theatrics, subtly incorporates some magical effects to enhance the experience
If the museum has a VR art installation, and you insist on trying it together he's going to make fun of you because he thought it's something just for children, but then he's going to try it just for you
"I can do thousands times better with my magic, how could you enjoy such a simple thing? It's like a little TV too close to your eyes."
in a quiet moment he create with magic two sketchbooks and pencils, inviting you to sketching together, each capturing your unique perspectives on the exhibits
you come across a mirror exhibit, and Loki can't resist making a few illusions within the mirrors, creating a mesmerizing dance of reflections
"Loki, do you have a favorite piece so far?"
"Much like love, art is a complex emotion. But that landscape over there has a certain charm."
as the day comes to a close, Loki surprises you with a classic red rose and something bought at the art shop just for you, it's his way to thank you for the date together
the funny thing is that you bought something for him as well (probably a book of poetry) so it's a funny moment of you two exchanging gifts outside the museum
"But...you know dear, mixed with silence, there was a certain chaos inside this building."
"Are you referring to the art exhibition or our relationship?
"Perhaps both. Chaos keeps things interesting."
the results is that from that day, he started to bringing you to all most famous museums on Earth
That's it! đ As an artist this post came out straight from my heart, hope you enjoyed as much I did while I was writing it~
M E R C U R Y
Ariana Reines
for those of you who canât sit in silence for two seconds hereâs a post just for you <3
JASONN !! Fave slasher drawing đȘ
đđ
shut the fuck up don't you dare compare yourself with Touya baby >:[
I'm amazed by this bad boy, truly â€
Feral smoking Ghoul
kate bush during a performance of âwuthering heightsâ (1978)
Contains: Little Space Comfort, Brahms in Little Space
Requested by Anonymous on Wattpad
âOf course Mrs. Heelshire. Enjoy your night!â you called as you watched the old couple happily get into a car from the front steps of their home. You couldnât deny that the couple had been looking much happier as opposed to when you first arrived.
Afficher davantage
This is probably one of my favorite moments of Aether i filmed my latest ritual. Like look at him, just look at him, no thoughts just monkey
(x)
Ghost stories around the city whisper about a creature in the forest. They describe it as a moth like monster that only brings misfortune and death.
But what will you do as you learn these silly ghost stories are true flesh and bone⊠and now haunting you?
pairing: satoru gojo x f!reader
wc: 12.9k
warnings & tags: 18+ only MDNI, monster x human relationship, loose interpretation of the mothman legends and stories, death mentions, protectiveness & obsession that can be read as slight yandere like, lot of bug discussion, monster transformation with a touch of body horror, wound licking, blood & tear consumption, magical healing, car accident, allusion to f!oral receiving, kidnapping, character deaths (this ends happy I promise) feral and lovesick Gojo, if there is anything I missed please let me know!
a/n: this is my first submission to @willowser Haunted House Collab and Iâm so honored to be part of this! Thank you for putting this together dear Willow! The title is from the lovely Hozier song. Also a big thanks to @skeletoncowboys for letting me scream about this monster & to @stellamancer for always being my dearest comrade in Gojo hell, enjoy and thanks for reading! Stay spooky!
Your grandfather once told you he believed butterflies were fairies and moths were angels.
It made sense to your child logic that butterflies could be fairy creatures. You even imagined fairies had butterfly wings. But, you had argued back in disgust that moths couldnât be angels.
âNow now,â your grandpa had laughed. âWhy canât moths be angels?â
He gently explained moths were mainly seen in the evening and around light. He believed moths were the forms angels took to keep watch over everyone late in the night when no one believed they were being protected
âAnd,â he told you with all his sweet patience. âSomething like a moth that loves the light canât be bad.â
Scientifically you now understand moths mainly were nocturnal as a survival instinct for less predators and more opportunities for prey. Some were even active during the daytime. But your grandfather's words stay with you, etched into your heart.
He is why you are here after all.
The campus at night always holds a certain hollowness.
However, the storm that blew in yesterday continues looming with ominous clouds in the sky. It cast an early darkness against the city. The thick haze feels as if something could slink out of the shadows.
When you slip out of the research lab building there, against the light outside, one lone white moth flutters in the air.
Quickly glancing around the campus stretches out before you a vacant lot. In that moment of surveying, delicate wings rapidly flutter fast and wild against your face.
âAck!â A surprised squawk leaves you at the mothâs sudden charge.
âI told you!â You hiss out waving the bug away. âYou couldâve waited for me at home.â
The moth, outraged by your words, rushes against your face harder. Silk wings flap hard while it continues waving around your line of sight in a flurry.
âCalm down, you big baby!â You snap back annoyed and start stomping towards your car.
Now the little insect stops its fluttering attack to gently land on your face. As the bug travels across your cheek, its presence is a gentle tickling sensation. It finally stops and rests against you.
âHappy now?â You mutter low praying no one spots you with a large white moth on your face.
âIâm gonna pick up dinner. So are you getting in the car or meeting me back home?â You speak casual yet still within a low mutter.
With a delicate tickle again, the moth scurries across your cheek then across your nose making your lips twitch in a slight giggle.
Then the creature flutters away, your answer.
The pizzeria you end up at is adorably cozy. You spotted it during the drive to and from campus. Once you read the online reviews and got their blessing you decided to check it out.
Christmas lights hang from the takeout counter where you wait for your order. Thereâs even a quaint bar-like area. But what catches your attention is the small section of things littering the walls behind the counter.
It reminds you of a scrapbook.
Various newspaper clippings clutter one side. A few blurry photos are folded and pinned to the board. Plenty of hand drawn images scatter among the collage and they range from adorable to terrifying.
All of these things are about one single moth creature.
The board itself is even titled -
The Mothâs Nest.
Moth nests can be disastrous. They infect fast and are hard to exterminate. Plus once they create a nest, infestation is soon to follow.
âAh, looking at our board.â A smooth voice purrs into the air and you turn towards it in slight embarrassment.
A beautiful blonde woman grins at you from behind the counter now.
âI heard the town had a moth thing but thisâŠâ from the drawings, which all included a strange humanoid like creature, this is far from the high moth population count it was known for.
The woman barks an amused laugh and it crinkles her rather lovely eyes.
âYou could say that,â she grins. âYou new here?â
âSort of.â You nod. Youâve been here for almost a full semester now and you wonder if the newness will ever melt away.
âWell then, welcome to town!â The womanâs name is Yuki and for being a newcomer she pays for your pizza.
âEven though you got this for takeout, why donât you stay? Eat here and keep me company.â She winks and you happily slide into the open seat she pulls up for you at the checkout counter.
âSo whatâs a lovely thing like yourself doing here?â Yuki asks smoothly and you almost choke on your first bite.
After she cackles a warm charismatic laugh, you swallow through your surprise and tell her.
âAn en-tah what?â She caws confused like a bird and even her furrowed brows make you snicker.
âAn entomologist,â you clarify.
In simple terms, you study bugs.
âOh!â Yukiâs eyebrows fly fast up into her bangs as her eyes twinkle excitedly. âSo youâre all about the creepy crawlers then.â
âNot all of them,â you reply back friendly.
You favored Odonatology and Lepidopterology.
The studies of dragonflies, damselflies, butterflies and in this case-
Moths.
âWell now,â Yuki grins and turns to glance at the board. âLooks like youâre in the right place to find moths.â
It was one of the reasons why you chose this program. The university boasted a plentiful and hands-on ecosystem to explore right within the townâs backyard. You just never expected an urban legend to come attached to the critter population.
Curiously you nudge your face towards the odd journalistic collection and ask about it.
Yukiâs face melts into a wistful look that casts a surprising shadow on her.
âItâs a creature that apparently lives in the woodsâŠâ she begins, low and steady.
No one knew how or when it began inhabiting the forest. Some argued itâs a simple folklore meant to scare rowdy kids from venturing into the woods.
âThe stories say itâs an actual demon.â Yuki explains.
âThereâs a belief that anyone who sees it either dies soon after or calamity befalls the town.â
Yukiâs words conjure up a poisonous fear. She adds how any sight of the cryptid, even in the strongest of nonbelievers, brought a sense of unease.
âBut,â Yuki shrugs easily turning back to you. âSome people say that thing is a hero.â
The word hero gets tangled in your ribs
Your new friend explains there are those who have seen the beast and lived to tell a different tale.
Multiple children on different occasions have got lost in the woods. Yet, they always found their way out. Most of them claimed the moth creature helped them.
âThereâs even an elderly man who went hiking and still swears up and down that thing saved him from getting attacked by a mountain lion.â Yuki comments.
âThatâs a big claim.â You admire the thought of this monstrous creature possibly being a silent guardian. However, it festers something dangerous in your heart that weaves a sticky web.
The pizza on your plate grows cold. The lone drink you were nursing now is a watered down mess. Youâve lost your appetite and decide to head home.
Thereâs not much for your mind to process. It feels like the same sensation of walking out of a horror film and trying to understand what you saw. You try to rationalize this disorienting simply the same sensation youâd also get hearing ghost stories at sleepovers.
Yuki urges you with a warm charm that youâll come and visit again, you promise her you will.
Walking out with leftovers in the box, the night greets you with a soupy fog. The lingering storms coat the streets in a mystic cloud.
You wonder if this clouded fog is inside your mind as well.
Youâre about to take a step out into the parking lot when a horrifying animalistic shriek pierces the air.
It sounds distorted, a static shrill cry summoned from an ancient abomination.
The screech shoots straight into your bones startling you and making you jump in a pause.
In that moment a car speeding way too fast for a parking lot flies by you. It drives by with a whirling speed rattling the wind.
The noise, the shriek, stopped you from stepping out into the carâs path.
You mind buzzes, maybe too much. The gloomy air seeps into your skin and brings a heaviness over your body. You exhale shakily trying to just settle yourself as you head home.
When you return to the tiny closet of your apartment, there outside against the balcony door your white moth flutters furiously waiting for you.
Sliding the door open youâre about to greet your extra house guest until the text chime on your phone draws your attention away.
As you check your phone charging on the couch, a sudden thud lands against your apartment floors. The flapping of wings flutters into the room.
Before you can even turn around, a shadow falls over you. The presence of something large looms like a ghost, silent and steady yet radiating a chill besides you. Then a firm fuzzy face suddenly dives into the side of your neck burrowing against your skin.
âYou need to be more careful.â A voice crystal and aware, yet flickering as if it speaks through the branches of the woods, clicks at you.
You think of the car that blazed by.
âIt happens and Iâm okay.â You reassure.
The inhuman face hiding in your neck draws back. Then a firm head soon enough gently butts against yours. The action jolts you out of your thoughts and you rapidly turn towards the heaviness leaning against you.
Crawled straight from the shadow of the woods, from the whispers of terrified stories, the creature before you still doesnât seem real.
You think of Yuki and the mothâs nest board at the pizza shop. All the pictures depict the creature with haunting crimson eyes.
You wish you could have told Yuki the monsterâs eyes arenât red, but instead a piercing sky blue.
And instead of two eyes, the creature holds six beautiful eyes all over his face.
All six eyes of those eyes blink at you with the depth of a haunted lake shimmering within their gaze.
-.âčËââËââŸâËââËâč.-
âWhy do you want to study insects?â
Discovering the cryptid could talk was honestly more surprising than discovering he was real.
Also, he had a name.
âSa-to-ru.â He had told you, pronouncing its syllables as if your little human brain might not get it. It made you scowl. Yet the name itself sounded like something that fluttered out of the forest breeze.
Currently the moth creature, Satoru, sits happily on your apartment balcony under the dark cover of night. You have articles you need to read, lab reports to finish. But, you stay sitting on the floor beside him.
âMy grandfather studied them.â You explain, giving the same answer you always do when this question is asked.
âHe loved almost every type of bug there was.â
âSounds like my type of human.â The moth amusedly chitters. âLove to meet him.â
âHonestly, he wouldâve loved to meet you too.â You truthfully admit and almost grin thinking of how excited your grandpa wouldâve been to see this creature.
âUnfortunately, he passed away a few years ago.â You add simply.
âOh.â The cryptid replies quietly. âIâm sorry.â
You politely thank him.
âIs he the one besides the moth?â
Youâre surprised Satoru even noticed that.
The frame sits on your eclectic shelf filled with books and trinkets. Thereâs two pictures in that frame. One is a photo of your grandfather during his days when he moved out here to teach at the university you currently attend. The other photo is you and him both holding up big nets when you were a little weed of a thing looking so happy besides him.
Besides those photos is his favorite sketch.
âItâs a luna moth, right?â Heâs right again. Though, youâre not surprise he recognized it.
âYup, the lunar moth was his favorite.â You fondly agree.
Actias luna.
Your grandpa used it as his example of how beautiful and lovely moths could be.
âHeâs a man of good taste.â The moth compliments and for some reason it tugs at your lips. You can almost hear your grandfather's voice warmly boasting in pride.
âI wanna show you something, little human.â The moth quickly changes topic and when you turn to him, you find him grinning.
Rows of dangerous sharpened fangs flash within his mouth. They are a visible warning to not trust this creature, but you do.
âAfter your class this week, Iâll take you somewhere.â Satoru urges.
âAre you going to eat me?â You ask a bit stunned.
Satoru laughs, a flickering chirping noise that bounces off your apartment balcony.
âOh little human, if I did eat humans I wouldâve done that already.â
You glare at him but sighing you agree to whatever he has in store for you.
On your last class of the week, there outside against the campus street light your white moth flutters excitedly.
You think about how dangerous it is that he sticks around campus, even in this form.
With a rapid flurry he flies around your face. You canât help but snort at the tickling sensation.
âYeah Iâm here, letâs go.â You tease.
Under the twilight hazee, you follow the moth into the woods.
The setting sun casts a shadow over the stretching forest. The trees silently watch your hesitant trek as you follow the moth further into the thickness.
Eventually youâre in the heart of it. No noise greets you, not even the rustling of birds or the fleeing of other animals. Itâs as if in this depth all life had stilled. No movement or sign of life encroaches into this space. You realize this might have been the most ridiculous idea, following this cryptid myth into the unknown.
Suddenly the moth stops in front of a large solid tree.
âThis is what you wanted to show me?â Youâre a bit confused. The insect flutters around you in a huffy flight then goes to spin around the tree.
Satoru himself now slides out from behind the tree in his humanoid form.
âItâs not just a tree.â His six eyes narrow at you annoyed. Your eyes roll exhausted with him already.
âDo you trust me?â
The question surprises you.
Hesitantly you nod, a quiet yes. Satoru then effortlessly scoops you into his arms as if you weigh nothing.
A wild squeak escapes you. His firm arms hold you in his grasp and your mind starts scrambling being this close to him. The fur of his body tickles your arms and the solid warmth of him curls around you.
Satoruâs chittering laugh bounces among the trees.
He then takes flight.
You swallow back a petrified screech threatening to escape and simply let the wind rush around you. A solid thud comes, a landing.
âOpen your eyes, little human.â Satoru whispers excited.
You hadnât realized you had closed them.
The nest before you is a cobwebbed cocoon. You had never seen one this big. The opening of it is carved out wide, a webbed open maw with secrets trying to draw you in.
âGo in, you can see more.â His wistful voice skitters out playful, so light it could get caught in the tree branches.
Heâs eager to show you this.
Hesitantly you lean into the nest just to glance inside.
Itâs actually rather cozy. Webs and branches twist in a delicate pattern to create a solid enclosing. Leaves scatter the inside floor that is rather large. You can even imagine his large form curled in here cat-like as he sleeps.
âSo? What do you think?â He asks with an anticipated edge blooming in his voice. Heâs showing you his home.
You remember when he first showed himself to you, even gave you his name.
The logical reasoning within you thought many times about studying this cryptid. There was even a fleeting moment you considered capturing him and returning him back to the lab.
Now you are here discovering his home. You find yourself wanting to unearth as much as you can of this incredibly infuriating but wonderfully interesting creature.
âItâs nice!â You earnestly admire the space. Yet, the truth whispers a harrowing fact.
The bigger the nest, the bigger the infection and danger.
So you instead turn to glance out to the forest around. Youâre so high above in the canopy of the trees. Silence seems to settle thicker here among the sky and it mingles with the evening darkness.
The forest, even as tranquil as it appears, holds a sense of loneliness you canât fully describe.
âHave you been here at this spot for long?â
He chirps a humming yes.
âThe high placement keeps me safe and away from prying eyes.â Among the trees and leaves he is simply a shadow.
âDo people try to hunt you?â That grim thought arrives.
âA few try, but no oneâs even come close.â A cocky pride brims in Satoruâs tone.
You understand why people would try and search for him. But to hunt him like some prized sport? So you have to ask why.
âBesides some humans believe killing me will solve and save them from all their disasters, a select few who want me for other purposes.â Satoru muses as his antennas twitch.
âWhat other purposes?â You glance back at the cryptid perched on the solid large branch beside you.
In the dark, all six eyes glimmer with an animalistic reflection, a haunting gleam and reminder of the creature's true nature before you.
All those months ago, these multiple eyes stared at you from the edge of the woods by your apartment and the campus like silent terrors. Now they watch you with intent safety right by your side.
âThereâs an old legendâŠâ Satoru answers. âIt says my kind could bring someone back from the dead.â
The words spark a curious flame in you.
âWait, really? Is it true?â
The moth being simply shrugs, an action so human you almost want to laugh.
âSome believe it. Thatâs enough to hunt my kind.â
So many questions cluster in your mind. You wonder more about his kind, about him. Yet there is no way to scoop all those questions out.
All you can do is gaze out at the scenery before you.
The trees pierce the darkness with their own spiked tendrils. The night sky blankets above you with twinkle stars, glimmering pockets of faint light so clear.
Yet, for some reason this again feels so lonely.
Even with the stretching comforting woods, you canât shake the sensation of solitude slipping out.
âSo why do you still stick around?â You suddenly ask not even understanding why yourself.
âWhat? Around you or here?â He asks.
âBoth.â
A chirp of a sigh comes, heavy with an ancient weary.
âIâve thought about leaving, migrating somewhere else, somewhere safer.â His voice drops gently, a small click in the wind.
âButâŠâ His voice trails off even more delicate.
âSomething just keepsâŠpulling me back here. Like Iâm meant to be here. That Iâve been waiting for something.â Youâve never heard him this wistful and distant.
Then his response also has you curious.
âDo you have any idea what it is?â You cautiously and gently press.
âNo idea.â His answer is rapidly too casual that you snort, shaking your head.
âAnd why am I still hanging around you? Who knows, maybe I just like to bug you.â
The pun isnât lost especially on you and you groan annoyed even though a smile twitches at your lips.
Among the shade of stars and shadow of the forest, you sit with a creature of the darkness.
-.âčËââËââŸâËââËâč.-
The moth had first appeared at your window balcony dancing around the light like an ethereal wisp of a spirit. It happily flew around you and even spun around your entire apartment. You eventually had to shoo it out.
For a while, it was simply you and this strangely persistent moth.
After that, six eyes began appearing at night at the edge of the woods. Strange clicks like howls erupted in the air, haunting lingering sounds that rattled you.
That same week the moth showed up to your apartment flying in a bit of distress. The wings of it flapped slower and you wondered if it was dehydrated or dying.
As you had opened the sliding door to the balcony, thatâs when you first witnessed it.
Like butterflies, moths go through a similar life cycle of emerging from a pupa or chrysalis. The new adult insects must crawl out of its old cocoon. The process is the blend of life and destruction.
You discovered the same applied to moth creatures.
The wings fell first then the twisting and emergence of a body from the small frame transformed to life a fully formed creature.
That first time the moth creature metamorphosed on the balcony you screamed so loud your neighbor across the hall came worriedly to check on you.
You had hoped it was all just a bad dreamâŠ
Now when you return home early, that monster rests in your bed instead of lurking under it like all the scary stories whisper where monsters lie.
Curled within the sheets, burrowed deep and taking up the entire frame, the creature slumbers. You barely can spot Satoru underneath all the pillows. A few of your shirts peek out from the swirl of blankets and you try not to linger on that.
The messy twisted bed cocoon however does make you think of the grand nest you saw.
A faint snore grumbles out into the room. The muffled animalistic noise should frighten you. Instead it echoes a soothing rumble as you go to make dinner.
In the meditative process of cutting, claws scratching against the tile floor startles you. Your heart skips at the sudden noise and your face whips to the entryway.
In this form, the moth cryptid has to hunch from touching the ceiling.
Satoruâs imposing frame fills up the entire space even with his thick wings folded to his body. The intricate beautiful antennas on top of his head flicker curious. Among the monstrous features, human-like qualities are visible in his arms, his legs, and the core of his body. Yet even in that familiarity, he is covered in sleek fur.
The sigh of this unbelievable being in this tiny kitchen almost has you laughing. Months ago this would have made you scream in terror. Now, his existence has settled into your life a strange blooming metamorphosis.
Then all six of Satoruâs clustered eyes go wide in terror.
His talons rattle rapidly on the floor as he scurries to your side.
âYour hand.â He comments sharply.
Glancing down, blood trickles over your hand and drips softly onto the cutting board. The cut thankfully isnât deep, simply sliced the top of your finger.
âGuess that means Iâm ordering out.â You mutter.
However your new companion immediately snags your hand.
Satoruâs grasp is hard, a terrified clutch as if heâs worried the cut will worsen. Flickering your gaze to him now, all six eyes focus at your hand with a startling petrified seriousness.
âIâm fine.â You reassure. âLet me just grab a band aid.â
The creatureâs firm hold is unrelenting, refusing to budge even as you tug to release your hand.
âHey-â youâre about ready to chide him and urge him to let go-
Until the moth cryptid leans down and with a long thin tongue begins licking at your wound.
Air gets knocked out of your lungs.
You mind canât process the sight but the wet tickle of his tongue swiping along your skin grounds you. Satoruâs tongue swipes frantically and fast, a panic.
A dangerous heat runs up your arm and claws at your chest. This shouldnât feel this intimate. Yet, it does.
You canât even exclaim in surprise because in the small dimly lit kitchen, the moth has you under his spell.
Instead of the panic, thereâs now an eased almost lazy and leisurely lap at your skin. The way his tongue slides across you is as if heâs trying to savor you. It slithers with a reverence between your knuckles, across your fingers, and your mind slowly melts.
Then with one last slow deliberate lick, Satoru draws back.
A daze has fallen over your foggy mind filled with smoke until you blink and notice your cut is gone.
Blood faintly lingers around his mouth, coloring the white fur of his face and it should scare you. And it does but the fear comes from how gorgeous he looks, and knowing itâs your bloodâŠ
The thin tongue immediately darts out to lick at the bloody traces.
The sight teeters into an overwhelming sensation and you forcibly break your focus to glance back at your healed hand.
âYou have healing powers?â You croak out trying to process the sight.
âNo.â For a creature that lives in the woods, he understands sarcasm rather well.
You glare at the creature who now tilts his face away. He avoids your eyes as he fiddles with the edge of your shirt.
âMoths can't heal.â You comment.
âIâm not like a typical moth now am I, little human?â
That damn nickname.
Annoying as Satoru is, you still canât believe the sight of your healed fingers.
âThank you for healing me.â You mutter still not able to process but are grateful all the same.
The moth creature hums a proud amused thing you quietly ignore.
Moths didnât have healing properties. Hawk Moths could recreate antioxidants in their body to replenish themselves. You wonder if thatâs how Satoru operates with his abilities.
Another part of you, one that sounds warmly like your grandfatherâs voice, whispers that the creatures of this world simply hold mysteries we may not ever know.
You suppose the cryptid refusing to leave your side is the solidified truth of that.
Suddenly Satoruâs head softly plops against the top of yours.
With soft gentle rumbles he rubs his face into your hair.
âYou know,â you begin softly as your fingers itch to run up against his fur. âYou donât have to keep sticking around here.â
âHm?â Satoru hums out a bit dreamily.
âYou can go back to where youâre from. You donât need to keep staying with me out of obligation for freeing you or feeling like⊠you have a debt you want to repay.â You breathe the words out firmer.
The nuzzling against your head stops.
âOh?â Satoru begins with a curious chirp. âThatâs not why I stay.â
His confident reply stills you.
âLike I said maybe I just like bugging you.â He grins coy. âAnd besides, I stay because eating the fabric of your clothes is pretty nice free food and I like scaring away any humans that might come by.â
âYou bring me closer to buying an electric fly swatter!â You screech and swat him away.
âAw, donât be like that!â He whines and flutters his wings almost taken back.
You ignore him and his annoying clicks vying for your attention while you order dinner for the night.
âI forgetâŠHumans are so easily annoyed. You most especially.â He says bristly and itâs the last straw.
Healing your arm or not, this creature manages to wiggle under your skin in a way that no one else has. You blame the damn moth for how on edge you feel. Yet the truth lies in the strange unfathomable heat still brewing under your skin.
As you leave you get food you stare at him hard. You sling the balcony door open, a silent demand he leaves. His multiple eyes, shimmering sapphires, search your face.
âI see...â His reply is a brisk breeze.
Turning your back to him, you head to grab your keys. You donât even see him leave and instead stomp to head out.
You even fully close your bedroom window. Itâs the crack of an entrance youâve recently been leaving open that allows him to flutter in when heâs a smaller moth.
Now as leave youâre thankful for the momentary space from the infuriating infestation.
Against the early night sky the pizzeria glows an electric beacon against the darkness. Clamoring chatter and an upbeat song greet you when you step inside. Youâre not surprised itâs packed on a night like this.
Yuki yells a bright excited welcome at you from across the restaurant and it warms you.
Now leaning at the bar your attention can't help but find its way to the bulletin board by the entryway. Even with the annoyance and conflicting desire, seeing the arranged clutter about the local moth creature draws out a strange sinking feeling within you.
âYou interested in the bug?â
A deep rumble of a voice drips out smooth and breaks your focus immediately.
Turning to the side, you discover youâre not alone at the bar.
The man is thick, solidly built and strikingly handsome. He seems older than you, with an aged weathered dignified presence about him. With only black hair and a scar across the corner of his lip, he sits looking bored at the counter with a toothpick in his mouth.
âItâs interesting.â You admit truthfully.
âThink the bug is real?â The man questions with the faintest hint of curiosity.
You shrug again. âAnything is possible I guess.â
âIndeed it is.â Now his voice holds an interested purr that sticks to your skin in an uncomfortable way.
Your eyes flicker back to him and you find his attention however is on the board.
âSome say itâs a demon.â He suddenly adds.
âIâve heard.â You agree calmly.
âWhatever it isâŠitâs bad luck.â The mystery man says briskly.
You heard that as well.
âSome say itâs not.â For some reason, a small protective spike rises in you and you even think about Yuki calling it a hero.
âYeah well, everyone can read an omen wrong I guess.â His words cast a dangerous thickness into the air that slithers up your skin.
âBesides, thereâs an old legend I heard once.â he continues.
âIt saysâŠif a moth flies into your home it means someone is going to die.â
Dread crashes into your body and consumes you quickly. Youâve never heard that saying before and it bubbles an awful bile in your stomach making you feel sick.
âThatâs awful.â You canât help but answer back sharply it even surprises you.
You think of your grandfather, his belief moths were angels, and how that guided you to where you are now.
And you canât help but think of the moth in question.
âSorry, didnât mean to upset you.â He leans back into his seat to stare at you.
No response for him seems to come to mind. If anything, a strange chill trickles down your spine as if youâre staring down a creature surveying and waiting to strike.
Yuki calls out your name and breaks your focus.
âWish I could stay and chat but weâre a bit busy tonight!â She winks at you and now you grin, eased at her presence.
You wish her a good night and begin gathering your order to leave.
âBe careful out there.â The stranger mutters. Your eyes flicker to him. His attention is back on the slice of pizza before him.
âDonât know what might be out there trying to fly into your house this time of night.â
His words create a sticky cobweb of emotions in you. You simply take your food and rush out.
Driving back to the apartment you glance at your hand fully healed and still lingering with the phantom sensation of the mothâs tongue licking at your skin.
You think of how effortlessly this strange creature carved a space in your life.
Now a sense of danger prickles against your skin, like the way the air tightens electric before a storm.
When you arrive home, a silent apartment greets you. The emptiness clouds your space and the walls creep in close and cold.
A piece of you expected him to return, maybe even hoped. But trying to sort through those emotions again bubbles a strange ache in your chest.
Before you go to bed you slightly open your bedroom window and settle under the covers. Closing your eyes, you accept the silence and solitude lingering in your room and heart.
Sleep trickles in faintly. You fade in and out of being awake.
Then your bed shifts.
A heaviness immediately curls against you. The softest brush of moth wings graze your arm. Soft chirps, faint and delicate, float into the room.
Satoruâs face burrows against the top of your head, a silent apology.
This is new.
Heâs never done this before. Heâs never slept on your bed with you. But your heart races too fast in your chest and your mind still feels so clouded from this night that you canât even react.
Or, you donât want to react.
This is new, yes. But a wild desperation inside of you sinks its claws into this new proximity. You simply keep your eyes closed and shift to settle deeper into the bed, deeper into his warmth.
The smell of the brisk forest, clear and earthy, lulls you to sleep.
Waking up the next morning, youâre alone.
A part of you wonders if you dreamed his return.
Yet on your nightstand rests a sweet plucked wildflower that wasn't there before. It greets you a bright good morning.
-.âčËââËââŸâËââËâč.-
Your open apartment balcony door brings in a warm evening breeze. A favorite series of yours plays on the television as you grab another mouthful of popcorn.
âCan I have some?â Satoru whimpers.
âNo.â You answer through the mouth of popcorn.
âSo mean! Why are you so cruel to me, little human!?â He pouts and you simply ignore him.
Even with the moth creature crouching on the floor his body still looks frightfully full and large. His fur is fluffed out more and he almost looks adorable like this simply sitting beside you.
His presence should create a distorted sense of reality. Yet no sense of panic rises within you. If anything, only more curiosity has started gnawing in you.
What kind of moth species did he originate from? Where was he even originally from? Did he have a family?
âWhatâs your favorite human activity to do?â It seems you were not the only one curious.
Recently Satoru has begun pestering you with a plethora of questions from what foods did you like the most to these more strange human specific ones.
âDonât know, I have a lot.â You answer truthfully.
You rationalize all the questions you have and that he even asks are mutual inquisitive curiosity about the otherâs species, a chance to learn.
Except, for you, the source of your curiosity masquerades as a yearning you donât want to hunt out yet.
âHumans are terrified of the oddest things.â
Satoruâs comment breaks your thoughts.
You turn towards the creature who stares at the television with all six eyes.
The series you had put on had been an old favorite of yours, supernatural and fantasy based. The main heroes in this episode were being terrorized by monsters that came alive from a childrenâs book of old fairy tales.
âWell this series is older so the effects and monster makeup isnât all that impressive.â
âNot that.â The moth corrects you quickly. âI mean that creature isnât even scary.â
You want to make a comment about how of course a creature that crawled from the woods and haunts a town would not find this terrifying.
âWhat are you afraid of?â Again the moth humanoid questions.
You shrug. âA lot of things.â
âYou donât need to be afraid of anything.â He chirps so matter of factly it surprises you. âEspecially because Iâm here now.â
You canât help but roll your eyes at his cocky boast. Yet your heart flips at the protective claim.
âButâŠI do think humans may be the scariest creatures of all.â Satoru notes with a wistful distance in his voice.
You wonder if heâs trying to tease you or even be a bit poetically pessimistic.
âI agree.â You nod reaching for popcorn. âHumans can sometimes be scary.â
In all the beauty that comes with being human, you know there is a darkness that comes with the territory. The lovely prickle of rain starting to fall soothes you as the episode jumps to the next.
Itâs one of your favorites. The main character gains a secret wish stone that transforms into her love interest because she desires and wishes for him most of all.
You rise to the kitchen to grab a drink.
âWhat do you wish for most, little human?â
His words stop you frozen. They come out so simple, a curious purr almost.
Your mind tries to reach towards something noble and grand like to wish for world peace or wish for climate change to end. You think of wishing for a better car, better apartment, to get rid of your money problems.
Yet it all cultivates into a simple easy response.
âLove, I guess.â Itâs a simplified answer.
âThat?â Even Satoru sounds dubious.
âYeahâŠlove. If you have love, then everything else sort of just falls into place.â With love at the cornerstone, everything can build from there.
A chittering like sigh dances into the room.
âBoring. At least say something interesting like an endless supply of sugar or something like that.â
You canât help but snort at such a silly answer.
âIs that youâd wish for then?â You now ask the creature.
âMhmâŠmaybe. Or maybe something extra special your little human mind couldnât comprehend.â Such a coy response only makes you roll your eyes.
But for some reason, that answer feels heavy like it needs to be unearthed. You donât push the answer, or him.
As you clean up around the kitchen, you glance back to the living room. There Satoru rapidly consumes all your popcorn as fast as he can.
âYou freaking pest!â You screech annoyed and he simply blinks his six blue marble eyes at you as if he did nothing wrong.
âIâm not a pest.â He replies innocently and it annoys you even more.
âYouâre literally a moth! What is more pest-like than that?!â
Satoruâs monstrous face flickers. It faintly crumbles until his eyes hollow out a cold downcast.
âRight there? You just sounded just like every other human.â His words, low, raw and sharp, rip through you.
He doesnât say it but you hear the undercurrent.
I thought you were better than that.
A festering ache swells in your chest as the weight of his words drag you under.
Quietly you start making two bowls of popcorn now. You grab the chocolate syrup. Satoru had a fierce sweet tooth. It took you by surprise when your gas station candy treat went missing and his sticky fur said enough.
So you drizzle plenty of chocolate over the salty snack then you quietly speak.
âIâm sorry, I shouldnât have said that.â
A moment of silence fills the space.
âItâs alright little human... Sometimes I forget your little human brain makes so many mistakes like that. I canât get too mad.â He chirps so bored.
Youâre tempted now to throw away the chocolate popcorn.
Thankfully the air seems to lighten as you head back to the living room two popcorn bowls in hand.
There Satoruâs multitude of eyes are entirely glued to the television now. The familiar dialogue comes and you whip your attention to the screen as well.
The big realization between the main heroine and her love interest unfolds as he realizes what her wish manifested as.
The moment is heated, drenched in undeniable chemistry. The magnetic pull even has you entrapped. Then the love interest without hesitation pulls the heroine and kisses her with a fierce released love.
Now it feels so intimate, too raw to watch. You turn away under the guise of grabbing more popcorn.
âIs that how humans show affection?â Satoruâs voice is a curious twinkle of a chirp.
âYup,â you weakly agree while you check your phone hoping to seem disinterested.
âSeems aggressive.â For some reason his disgusted comment makes you snort.
âUh, it depends. Kissing isâŠâ thereâs much you can say on the manner but you simply shrug.
âItâs nice.â A simple but true answer.
âWhatâs it feel like?â The question drips with an inquisitive click but for some reason it slithers dangerously under your skin.
âUhâŠagain, it depends. Thereâs different types of kisses for different situations and the emotions can change with them.â You explain.
âSounds complicated.â Satoru muses and you snicker relaxed with the episode ending.
âI thought you knew all about human interactions?â You now ask, curious yourself.
âNot in that way.â Thatâs fair.
âOr reallyâŠIâve just never been interested in seeing humans interacting in that way.â He adds rather low.
âUntil recently.â That addition he gives cuts across you as if itâs covered with sharp glass edges.
âGuess this series does that, even to moth creatures.â You lightly try diffusing whatever shift starts to swirl in the room and drag you into its current.
Satoru stays quiet, curled into himself and his wings. Very faintly his antennas droop, enough that you notice it.
Rain now steadily prattles on peacefully mixing with the episode playing. Yet in the silence your skin crawls with something unspoken you canât evade.
You close your eyes hoping to avoid any more questions and pretend youâve fallen asleep. Naturally, a nap overtakes you and you jolt awake when a text message brightly wakes you up.
âSo what episode are we on?â You sleepily ask, noticing the cryptid hasnât left. Evening would be arriving soon, the time Satoru normally slipped back into the woods.
âA weird one.â He mutters and now curiosity flickers in you over which episode it is.
Your eyes widen.
Of course it would be this one.
The heroineâs best friend falls in love with a monster living in a cave. Itâs another one of your favorites. Now, the obvious reality sinks its fangs into your throat.
âThis is the most ridiculous one by far.â Satoru scoffs. âNo human would actually love a monster like this.â
His words deflate something in you. All the nerves and prickling emotions scatter.
âI donât know.â You offer back lightly. âMaybe thereâs something extra human to love a monster.â
All six eyes rapidly blink towards you. Their glassy yet sharp attention focuses so intently and itâs unnerving.
âYou donât mean that.â He snips and it distorts his voice more than normal.
You shrug.
âWhat do you mean by that?â He annoyingly asks, persistent.
What you mean is sometimes humanity can see through what society deems as monstrous and instead love the core of what a being is.
âI mean, itâs like what the episode says,â you nudge towards the television.
âIf love is fanged even between humans, why canât a monster find that same love?â You quote it vaguely but enough to capture the core.
The same goes for humans you explain.
âCause like what we said earlier, humans are a bit scary from time to time right? A little bit monstrous ourselves?â
So why not settle with a love fanged and coated in the shadows.
The episode takes a shift when the heroineâs best friend greedily kisses the bat-like creature. An electric desire jolts across your spine as it dries your throat.
âI never knew humans couldâŠdesire something like this.â Satoruâs eyes now unabashedly stare at the television with a religious focus almost afraid to look away.
âSome do.â You try sounding casual, but your voice croaks.
A heavy fog clouds your mind. Before he can ask or comment anything else you brightly announce youâre going to take a shower. You scurry to the bathroom without even once glancing at the moth monster.
Itâs a pathetic excuse but itâs early evening now. This decision isnât entirely out of the blue. You just need to cool down and take yourself away from the moment.
However, under the weight of the water, under the heat of the steam, you try washing away the festering arousal seeping into your veins.
The episode flashes in your mind. Except this time you picture yourself in the arms of the towering moth creature.
This danger has been brewing well beneath the surface and now slips past its shackles.
It rips you open raw and wild, unrelenting in a way that a slick heat already pools between your legs. You should not, by all rational means, be attracted much less so attached to this monster. Yet, you are.
You remember how easily he swept you into his arms, how solid and built his frame is. He is stunning. You canât even deny that.
You even think about how comforting a presence he was in your bed. Those thoughts melt and mutate dangerously.
Now, you imagine how warm and solid he would feel against you, between your legs. What he looks like drunk on pleasure-
Exhaling shakily, you turn the shower as cold as you can.
When you return to the living room after the shower, the sliding door is still wide open. Rain continues to twinkle its beautiful song into the living room, a living room now very vacant.
No moth creature is in sight and the bowl of chocolate drizzled popcorn remains untouched.
-.âčËââËââŸâËââËâč.-
In the research lab you grade quizzes from the class you work assisting with. This time during the week the lab is thankfully empty and it gives you time
to catch up on your articles and work.
A surprise knock however disrupts that peace.
Your advisor walks in with a warm grin. Besides her is the man from the bar.
A confused anxiousness seizes your heart and you try keeping your face composed.
You politely smile as your advisor calls your name.
âThis is Toji Fushiguro. Heâs an agent from the local conservation group trying to investigate where our dear little moth friend went.â Your advisor explains polite and casual.
Your heart sinks rapidly.
The unknown moth had been in a large observation box the first time you saw it.
It had been a new and recent find. Being a first year in the program, you simply were allowed to watch and observe the new species.
Bigger than a typical silk moth, the unidentified moth had beautiful intricate designs on its wings youâd never seen. The little creature was also incredibly feisty. On multiple occasions it flew into the side of the box as if trying to push its way out.
Now that glass enclosure sits empty.
âDo you think it would be alright if he asks you a few questions?â
You happily agree hoping that cooperating will divert any attention from yourself.
With a grin your advisor leaves the room to give you and Fushiguro space. Now alone with the man from the bar, he sleepy grins a coy amused thing.
âSo, we meet again.â That deep voice sulks out with a lure that feels poisonous and sticky.
âWe do.â You nod politely.
âShouldnât be surprised youâre a bug fan.â He scratches at his jaw and for some reason his casual attitude towards you twists your stomach.
You want to make a witty comeback but nothing comes to mind. Instead you stare down this mysterious man.
âWhat makes a cutie like you get into bugs huh?â He asks casually.
âMy grandfather.â You answer truthful and curt.
âHm, thatâs nice.â Fushiguro nods understandingly.
His eyes begin scanning the lab with that same boredom he wore at the restaurant bar.
âSo when did ya let the moth escape?â His relaxed question makes you choke.
âExcuse me?!â You snap. âI didnât let the moth out.â
Except you had.
The first night you stayed late at the lab you accidentally forgot to close the windows.
In that mishap, the moth escaped. You were thankful another class used the lab after you and disrupted the possibility of anything being pinned to you.
The department of course was a bit disheartened. However, everyone warmly joked about half of the job of being an entomologist is chasing after things way too fast to catch.
That happened months ago.
âIâm going to be honest with you.â Toji Fushiguro leans against the table with a brazen ease. âIâm here looking for that thing cause itâs dangerous.â
For some reason, you donât fully believe him.
âRemember what I told you about moths? Theyâre bad luck.â His stare is unwavering and cold.
âThatâs arguable.â You surprisingly fire back.
Toji Fushiguro shrugs. He slides his hands into his jogger pantâs pockets.
âIf thatâs all you wanted to discuss, then I need to ask you to please leave. I have work to do.â You answer sharp and composed.
He simply shrugs again and pushes himself off the table he leans against.
Without another word Toji Fushiguro simply heads to the door. Before he leaves the man stops.
âThat bad luck I told you about? Sâgonna catch up to you soon, pretty. Just want to give you a warning.â
It sounds like a threat instead of a warning.
At his words a venomous bile pools in your mouth and you almost want to snarl at this man. He leaves with just a casual wave of his hand and not another word.
The rest of the time in the lab you canât focus on anything. You simply float in this strange inertia.
When you leave, no moth flutters outside to greet you.
A new wave of terror wiggles through your stomach.
Your apartment is also deadly silent. Worry prickles all over your body as you slide open the balcony door. You even peer out into the woods hoping to find six gleaming eyes staring out.
Yet only the darkness, eternal and empty, stares back an ancient unforgiving warning.
So try pushing aside this rattling worried energy. You try to make dinner, even put on a favorite movie for background noise.
Your mind however canât leave the thought of Toji Fushiguro. Mainly, you worry about the absence of your moth. Fear eats away at you as if an actual creature has crawled inside.
And maybe he has.
You miss him. You miss Satoru. Youâre worried about him.
Heâs become a staple in your life, a strange fixture pestering you. You canât imagine a day without his presence now.
Then a realization trickles in a slow and sticky truth.
He is a creature of the woods, a myth of the darkness. Maybe he never meant to be yours.
Now here you are. A selfish human simply trying to keep him all to yourself.
A sudden clash of something solid rams into the balcony rail. You canât help but shriek.
Thee moth creature rapidly shoves his way into your living room. He crawls inside feral like something out of a horror movie.
âSatoru!â You cry out his name and rush towards him.
Satoruâs piercing sky eyes, all six of them, are wide and frantic. His gaze darts around the room. Then he begins sniffing around the space.
âSomeoneâs been in here.â Satoruâs voice drops, a waterlogged frantic gurgle.
âWait what?â You ask terrified. âHow do you know?
You start glancing around the room now and follow Satoru as he continues rapidly smelling the space. There are no signs of someone breaking in and entering. Nothing even seems out of place or stolen.
âI smell something new. Itâs not either one of our scents.â Satoruâs voice drips with a sharp dread and it chokes you.
âWhat does that mean?â You croak trying not to get caught up in the terror and panic, but their current is so strong.
Suddenly Satoru whips around.
There in the hallway of your apartment he completely consumes the entire space with his imposing frame. The darkness of the hallway and dim lighting casts a grim shadow over him. His wide frantic eyes are animalistic, more than youâve ever seen.
His shoulders heave with rapid breaths. In a blink Satoru suddenly crams his body against yours.
This giant of a monster curls down to crouch into you. His face begins rubbing against yours. Soft growl like purring rumbles into the air.
You canât help but whimper his name as fear has you in its maw.
Whatâs going to happen? What could you do?
You try to voice these questions, these worries, but the words get tangled in your throat.
âNothing will harm you.â Satoru snaps deadly as the edge of his tone wavers into a frayed growl.
Those strange humming clips and chirps he makes float into the air while he continues comforting you.
Clawed hands curl into your back with a noticeable pressure. Thereâs a hint of danger in his tight grasp. But then you realize youâre also clutching onto him with an iron hold.
Frustratedly you try blinking away tears managing to stubbornly spill down your cheeks.
Satoru, who still rubs his monstrous face against yours, immediately notices your tears.
A distressing chattering noise comes and youâre readying to reassure him youâre fine.
His tongue instead moves to lick at your tears.
The action stills you immediately. The slick appendage rapidly slithers across your face trying to quickly wipe away your tears.
You think about when he healed your hand, when his tongue wiggled across your skin to lap at your blood. Now here he is again, consuming you, trying to heal and comfort you.
His tongue however slides down across your cheeks tasting the salt of your skin. It immediately sparks to life an intoxicating heat that drowns out the panic.
A part of you wonders about the danger swirling around him and how there might be a possibility that doom is seeping into you.
This might be your doom, to adore a creature composed of myth and nightmare.
You blink and a few lingering tears rapidly run down your cheek straight to the corner of your lip.
Satoru, fast as ever, moves to lick them up. In the process his tongue slithers close to your lips, running across the edge of them.
You inhale sharply and your eyes canât help but snap open wide. Youâre breathing heavily. The way Satoruâs large shoulders begin heaving, so is he.
Suddenly he breathes out your name and it gets tangled in your heart.
âMine.â Then his voice, animalistic and monstrous, cracks the air with a low possessive growl.
His tongue begins running across your lips without hesitation. The wet wiggling intense sensation has your eyes closing in absolute bliss. You sigh and want to open your mouth to let his tongue slip inside.
âYouâre mine.â He snarls out feral and wild. Those strange clicks of his come faster and soon enough his claws draw you closer.
Suddenly Satoru inhales deeply against your skin.
Then he groans a terrible wonderful noise that makes your knees buckle.
âOh you smell so good.â He slurs. He continues to smell every inch of your skin, trying to map and memorize your scent.
A whimper escapes you and Satoru rumbles out a comforting click.
He begins dragging his down your body with a focused intent.
âStronger, itâs getting stronger.â He mutters against your clothes.
âSatoru-â you say his name a bit worried.
The moth creature shoves his face unabashedly against your clothed sex. He groans loud, almost debauched and all thoughts float out of you. His antennas rapidly twitch.
âOh itâs here.â Satoru mumbles in awe, possessed, as if heâs found a deity. âYou smell so good here.â
He growls frustrated as he tries burrowing his face closer and closer to your dripping arousal.
You croak out his name waterlogged.
Satoru snaps to look up at you from his knees. All six eyes are glossy and frantic.
âPlease? Please, my little human, can I have more?â He begs.
Thatâs when you notice his mouth is wet drenched with saliva. Heâs drooling at just the thought of you, drunk on your smell.
All you can do is nod, caught in the same intoxication desire.
Effortlessly he claws apart your pants at the seam and dives in. You canât even chide him for that.
Your mind goes blank, consumed by pleasure and lost in its woods. As you cry out while his thin tongue runs up and down every inch of you, you realize Satoru is right.
You are his. And maybe he is yours.
Satoru arrived in your life and never left. He instead stayed in the safety of your light with you under the cover of his wings.
-.âčËââËââŸâËââËâč.-
âDonât go to class today.â The moth mumbles.
Satoru has been glued to your side since the discovery of your intruder last week. He barely leaves the apartment and when he does itâs only because you need to leave. Currently he sits on the bedroom floor with wide sleep deprived eyes.
The antennas on top of his head flicker quickly. Heâs tried been pushing himself to stand guard even during the day.
âIâll be fine, itâs just a lecture.â You reassure him.
âBesides, you should take this time to sleep. You need to rest.â
âIâll be fine.â He mirrors your words back to you.
Your monsterâs six eyes hold a daze focused like heâs trying to be aware of everything all at once. Slowly and delicately you let your hand run against his soft face.
The delicate fur, now a tangible dream under your fingertips, is so sulky. The touch jolts the creature into awareness.
Satoruâs eyes all flutter you and instantly his face melts against your hand.
âDonât go.â He whispers a static like mumble.
âIâll be okay.â You even lean down to kiss the side of his face.
âFine, then Iâm going.â He snaps a firm unwavering decision and you canât argue with him.
As you walk to the lecture hall building he flutters so swiftly and dizzying in his normal moth form. He even flies all around your face, another angry urging for you to not go.
You gently hold out your hand. Slowly the moth flutters to land on top of your hand.
He is gorgeous in every form including this one. Shimmering wide eyes, large intricate wings, all composed in this sweet creature furiously crawling over your hand.
âI know youâre still upset, but Iâll be fine.â You softly reassure him for the hundreth time.
He stops and stares at you. Gently you run a finger across his fuzzy little head careful to not touch his antennas.
He flies from your hand and lands immediately on the corner of your lips.
A goodbye kiss.
Your lips twitch amused and deeply fond.
âIâll see you when class is over.â With that you head to class.
Walking into the classroom, one of your peers excitedly speaks to everyone present in the room.
âDid you guys hear?! Someone just saw the mothman thing on campus a few minutes ago?!â
Terror unfolds in you and your heart collapses among its cage. He must have transformed in the woods, or in flight.
âReally? Are you sure?â A skeptic quickly emerges and you cling to their words.
âNo I swear! Everyoneâs been talking about it online! So many people saw it fly into the trees by the woods!â
You havenât been this terrified since the contained moth was missing or since you first saw six reflective eyes staring at you from the dark.
Chatter breaks out immediately with so many discussions. Some of your classmates show their disbelief while others eagerly ask for more information.
You try to keep your composure as you slide into your seat.
âHey,â someone says your name. Your friend that sits next to you stares at you with a scrunched up face of concern.
âYou okay? You look kinda sick.â She frowns.
You wearily smile and use the excuse that you have been under the weather. A cold chill even runs up your spine.
âThen head back home,â she comforts you with understanding eyes. âIâll send you the notes from today and let you know if you miss anything.â
Grateful you wearily thank her and she nods warm, reassuring, wishing you rest. As you turn to head out you catch the last bit of conversation bubbling along with your classmates.
âWellâŠif someone saw the moth thing, doesnât that mean something bad is gonna happen soon?â
âYeah thatâs what the legend says.â Someone grimly agrees.
Scrambling, you shove yourself out of the classroom before you hear anything else.
Now out of the room you shakily exhale trying to calm yourself down.
At this time in the evening the hallways are deathly silent, harrowingly so. Unlike the lab building, so open and light with its many windows and expanded hallways, the lecture hall buildingâs tight corridors create a haunting clustered stillness.
That stillness seems to be creeping in more and more.
As you walk towards the elevator, sudden footsteps begin stomping behind you.
They are solid and firm, staying a decent pace away from you. The anxiousness from these past few days create an unbearable itch that crawls over your skin.
So you turn around.
And the hallway is dead empty.
No one walks behind you.
Fear tastes icy and rotten as it infects your body. Instantly you whip around to rush to the elevator.
You clash straight into someone.
The collision knocks you out of your thoughts and you quickly blink into focus.
A rush of apologizes stammer out of you.
âHey, itâs okay.â The man you ran into warmly reassures you.
You finally get a good look at him. Heâs handsome with a strong jaw and a faint mustache. He looks official in his suit. The smell of cigarettes surround you.
âActually, I was wondering if you could help point me in the direction of the main office.â The man smiles warmly.
This had to be the source of the footsteps you heard. The dread you have slowly simmers at the sight of him.
âOh course.â You grin weakly at the man, thankful your fear is calming down. âYou have to go down to the other end of this hallway-â
A sudden hand comes up from behind you.
It slaps over your mouth with a painful grip. Then something sharp pierces your neck.
The scream from your throat fades along with your focus.
The last thought flashing through your mind before you fade into darkness is that Satoru was right.
You shouldnât have gone to class.
-.âčËââËââŸâËââËâč.-
The jostling of your body wakes you up.
Groggily you blink into focus. You first notice itâs late at night. Next, youâre laid across the back seat of a car and your hands are tied.
In the front seats sit the man you ran into at the school and Toji Fushiguro. You go to scream but a tightly wrapped cloth blocks your mouth.
âYouâre awake.â Toji drawls out slowly and surprised.
You screech at him through the material.
âYeah, I knew you were with the moth this entire time.â He grins at you through the rear window.
You continue to scream as best as you can, sounding feral and panicked as tears fill your eyes.
âGuess living with a monster makes you sound this wild.â Toji Fushiguroâs accomplice mutters without even glancing once at you.
He begins typing away on his phone.
âWe got more buyers willing to pay if we bring the moth in alive.â The man comments.
Everything clicks.
They were after Satoru. And youâre the bait.
Maybe Fushiguroâs accomplice is right. Maybe living with a monster has leaked into you because the noise you make doesnât sound human.
Your scream, still stifled, carries so many emotions. Your pain, terror, anger and frustration, all of it courses through your veins and rips out in waves.
âHey.â Toji Fushiguro glances back at you from the rear mirror. âKeep it down. I donât wanna get too aggressive, but I will.â
He casually pulls out a gun and waves it around.
The horrifying casual threat causes your eyes to go wide and now all the fight you had trickles out.
âWatch it!â Suddenly the man in the driver's seat screams out.
Your eyes flicker forward.
Against the darkness, illuminated by the carâs headlights, a looking figure stands in the middle of the road.
Six eyes stare out from the darkness a brilliant terrifying electric blue. Delicate wide moth wings flare out and break against the night.
Through the fabric you scream out his name, except it gets drowned out by the revving of the engine.
Toji speeds up with full intent to hit the creature.
âWhat are you doing?!â The other man cries out.
You even scream in panic. Your moth however flies up, missing the impact.
Heâs gone from sight.
A solid clang lands on the roof.
A sharp stab pierces the top of the car with a snap. The screeching of metal being ripped away follows fast. The eyes of the monster stare into the car with a disastrous terror.
Satoru smiles wild and gleeful at the men, a predator that's captured its prey.
ThenâŠEverything happens in a blink.
The car swerves. The speed makes you feel as if you are flying. The colliding noise of scraping metal and then a solid impact. Everything becomes distorted as if you are in a snow globe spinning and trying to focus on a dizzying fuzzy world.
An unholy monstrous scream rips into the air. Itâs all you hear as you fade in and out of consciousness.
You blink and suddenly twigs from the forest floor press against your body. A sharp object pierces your side. Every inch of you screams in pain while also a numbing sensation starts creeping in.
An inhuman roar screeches out and your eyes snap open.
Off to the side along the trees you see the faint edge of Satoru within the darkness. Faintly you hear a wet ripping sound. Itâs visceral, like a vulture digging into a macabre carnage.
You watch his clawed hands viscously dig into whatever he stands over. You try gathering your voice trying to say something, anything.
Then six electric eyes snap up to you from the dark forest. He is the terror of the woods, a feral monster interrupted from its hunt.
Your vision however goes blurry and it gets harder staying awake.
A wreck howl of your name breaks into the air.
Tender clawed hands scoop up from the ground. Youâre cradled against him gently and tight. The fabric in your mouth gets ripped away and now the metallic taste of blood fills your mouth fast.
You wheeze out Satoruâs name. Thereâs so much you want to say. But youâre getting so tired.
âStay awake!â He snarls desperately sensing your exhaustion.
Nothing feels real. Even staring up at your creature, his six eyes seem to become twelve, like clusters of galaxies carved out in the night sky.
But youâre fading. You know and he knows it.
Breathing hurts and now a cool chill runs across your body from the inside.
Your grandfather's words about moths being angels float into your mind.
You recall how terrifying angels are sometimes described. Some of them are composed of wheels of fire, with many wings.
Yours has many eyes.
Youâre grateful Satoru is here with you at the end. Youâre grateful this angel found you.
Water droplets plop onto your face and you wonder if itâs raining.
Satoru screams your name with absolute anguish. A darkness crawls over your eyes. Soft and peacefully, you fall into its waiting arms.
-.âčËââËââŸâËââËâč.-
A soft steady beeping pulls you out from the darkness.
Wearily you open your eyes. But the bright light of wherever you are immediately has you shutting your eyes tight.
A cold hand touches your arm.
The touch jolts you awake. In a panic your eyes immediately snap open and your body shoots up only to find yourself tangled.
Tubes run from out of your arms. One tube even rests under your nose. The beeping noise you faintly recognize is a heart monitor and realization hits that youâre in a hospital.
Then when you turn to the side, a man you donât know sits beside you.
You have never seen a man as gorgeous as him. Striking cloud white hair, a chiseled jawline, broad shoulders and thenâŠ
The brightest blue eyes, clear as a summer sky, stare at you so frantic and hesitant.
The man says your name, his tone faintly pleading.
For some reason his voice sounds vaguely familiar. But that thought is put on hold when the door to your room opens and a nurse walks in.
âOh thank goodness youâre awake!â She sighs genuinely warm to see you and even seems a bit surprised.
What happened? You were dying. You were sure of it.
âDo you remember anything that happened?â The nurse asks gently as she checks your vitals.
âIâŠâ your voice wavers as the memory clips at you, terrifying and heartbreaking.
âItâs okay if you donât.â The nurse says comfortingly. âItâs common for accident victims to have a foggy memory. Plus after the one you were in itâs understandable.â
Weakly you question about what happened, how you got here.
With soft eyes the nurse explains it all.
You were the only survivor of the car crash. A part of you vividly remembers Toji Fushiguro and the man with him. A part of you dark and hollow gleams grateful they are no longer here.
You however didnât walk away unscathed. You have a few broken ribs, a very bad concussion and light internal bleeding being monitored.
âWe even found damage near your heart that couldâve been deadly-â
Yet, you were alive.
âAndâŠ.â The nurseâs eyes twinkle warm and adoring as they flicker to the man behind you.
âThis man found you and brought you in. Came into the hospital with you in his arms like some kind of bloody guardian angel.â
You whip your attention back to him as well. The manâs blue eyes stay so intently focused on you.
They remind you so much of the pairs of six eyes that watched you with the same unwavering gaze.
Then the nurseâs words click.
An angel.
No. This couldnât beâŠ
The idea so wild and unbelievable barrels into you fast. It knocks you breathless that you canât help but cough out.
Everyone instantly scrambles to grab you something to drink. Itâs your mystery man who hands you a cold water first and you guzzle it down with a frantic speed.
âIâll let you get some rest. Please hit the call button if you need anything.â The nurse squeezes your shoulder and you thank her with a weak cough.
Now in the quiet safety of the hospital room, your attention snaps to the man still intently staring at you with glossy blue lake eyes.
You take the jump. It might be the most far stretched idea and you can blame the concussion but -
You whisper out Satoruâs name.
The white haired man nods fast and a sob escapes you.
Itâs him.
Through tear soaked questions you ask him how.
âRemember that legend I once told you? About us being able to bring someone back from the dead?â
His voice is now clear, so distinctly him even in this form you canât miss it now.
His words are a chilling breeze.
âI died.â You whisper the cold realization.
And he brought you back.
âBut youâŠwhat happened?â Your eyes so clouded with tears scan his very beautiful and human face.
The Satoru before you is so familiar yet so different. The deep inhale he gives moves his shoulders. Youâve seen it before when his wings moved with the same exhausted exhale. Instead now a weary weight, a very human one, colors his stunning features.
But a sudden eased smile tugs at his lips and the sight is stunning.
âWeâre allowed to bring someone backâŠitâs just at a little cost.â His voice flutters out light and his words get trapped in your throat.
You canât fight the tears. They come in waves and your shoulders shake as you cry.
âWait,â Satoru rapidly panics as he slides closer to you. âWhatâs wrong?!â
He gave up everything. His form, his livelihood, his essence as a creature of the myth, he gave it all for you.
That solid truth rips so much sadness and guilt through you all you can do is angrily cry, frustrated.
âWhy are you crying?â He asks concerned and a bit confused.
âBecause,â you hiccup. âBecause I did this to you.â
You would carry this guilt for the rest of your life.
âWhat? Donât like the way I look? I thought I was pretty handsome in this form, yeah?â He lightly teases to perk you up.
You give him a look of disbelief wondering if you should call the nurse to escort this headache away from you.
âOkay okay,â he says, thankfully understanding your heartache.
Gently Satoruâs hand moves to rest against you on top of the itchy hospital blanket. Fondly he runs his hand over your leg. You watch as his eyes follow the path of his hand like heâs trying to solidify your presence beside him. A sadness shimmers within his blue pools.
âIf anyoneâs to blameâŠitâs me. I did this to you.â
Quickly, through a teary blubbering mess you reassure Satoru he did nothing wrong. His hand softly squeezes your knee.
âDo you remember when we were watching that weird show and you asked me what Iâd wish for? What I wanted more than anything?â
Suddenly Satoru speaks firmer, eyes still not facing you.
âI wished I could be with you. I wanted to live a full life by your side.â His answer is low, but so beautifully clear itâs like dawn breaking over the forest.
Those endless blue eyes turn to you.
Gingerly Satoru raises his hand. He runs his fingers against your face with a tender touch, a delicate brush like that of a mothâs wing.
âNever feel guilty about what happened. I would make this decision over and over again. I donât regret it and never will.â He says firm, absolute and devoted.
Tears return again but this time for another reason, one so beautifully overwhelming it consumes you.
Satoru gently draws you into his arms to hold you steady against his sturdy chest.
âCan't get rid of me now, little human.â He teases but the faintest edge of emotion cracks his voice.
A laugh escapes you among the tears.
âYouâre a little human now too, bug boy.â You joke as the new nickname comes so easily to you.
âThereâs nothing little about me, especially in this form.â He deeply purrs.
Youâre about to snap at him for being crude until he shrieks.
âAnd bug boy?! You never even called me that before! If anyone is the bug freak itâs you!â
You laugh, truly laugh, and a warm buoyancy floats within your entire body. He joins in alongside you. His laugh is such a wild and free noise you want to keep it forever.
âThis being a human thing,â he suddenly mutters against the top of your head. âMight take me a little while to get used to it.â
âItâs okay,â you whisper back, fully resting against him. âWeâre all still trying to figure it out too.â
Satoruâs hand begins rubbing against your back effortlessly, so human and natural.
âYou already seem to be doing a good job.â You mumble feeling sleepy again.
He hums amused. âI know. Iâm just that good.â
You want to make a snide remark but then Satoru kisses the top of your head. Your heart jumps at feeling his lips.
âI get to do this all the time now.â He whispers slightly in awe, like he spoke a hidden thought out loud.
You canât help but grin giddy.
Before, you had begun experimenting very enthusiastically about getting to learn how to kiss him in his old form. But you understand.
This felt right. It always did, even when you never wanted to admit it before.
âNo more mothman.â Satoru mutters a quiet realization and you clutch his shirt.
âYouâll always be my pest.â You reassure him.
âHey.â You can hear the mock frown in his voice and you snicker.
You think about Satoru as your cryptid emerging straight from legends.
If he was seen as a harbinger and warning of danger, it strangely has you thinking about love.
For what is love if not a warning? A âbe careful, donât run too fast, please be safe, please let me protect youâ warning morphed into a wish and want to keep someone safe. Horror and love sometimes walk hand in hand together after all.
In the arms of your harbinger, you wearily start falling asleep. Satoru senses it too and places another kiss on your head.
When he gently moves to rest you back on the bed your eyes glance to the window. The dark evening night stretches out deep and wide
Against the glass, you notice a fluttering movement.
Soft green delicate long wings catch the light from the hospital room.
Actias luna.
More tears brim in your eyes.
The beautiful lunar moth dances against the window, against the darkness, as if to greet you a warm hello and wish you well.