other side of the sun


He reminded me of the wooden nesting dolls I’d played with as a child.

One Love (Alexander X Reader)

My longest story yet: 2051 words

Major Angst, tissues are recommended

Thanks to @gratitudejoyandsorrow and @hamilficsfordays for being your awesome selves and believing in me.

Tags: @yayhamletnonstop @iputmyselfintothenarrative @ruth-hamilton-delrio

You feel world weary and bone tired. The thought of your bed is comforting. You smile as you see your husband waiting on you to join him. You quickly get in and curl up next to him. He is cold to the touch, but it doesn’t bother you. You suddenly remember something that needed to be done and jump up to do it fast so you can get back to Alexander. “Just come back to bed.” He murmurs. His voice sounds a little off but it pulls you back to his side.

You lay in bed shrouded in darkness. You can see Alexander’s silhouette on the other side of the bed. Everything feels right in the world. The sun starts to rise and Alexander begins to fade away. You stretch your fingers out to touch his face but just as the sun reaches its zenith, he whispers that he loves you just before he disappears.

“Nooooo!” You scream, sitting bolt upright in your bed. You reach out to grab the hand that you know should be there but all you find is empty sheets. It all starts coming back to you. The duel with Aaron Burr. He shot and killed your Alexander. It had been three months ago. You bolt for the bathroom to deposit whatever was left in your stomach into the toilet. Even being sick reminds you of your beloved Alexander. The way he held your hair out of the way so you wouldn’t get anything in it. The slow, soothing circles he would rub on your back. You succumb to sobs after you can’t throw up any more.

Once you cry all you have left in you, you slowly make your way downstairs. All the children are gone already, off to school or play dates. Thanks to your sister, Angelica, your children have been taken care of while you were still mourning the loss of the love of your life. She had left you a small plate for your breakfast but knew you probably wouldn’t eat it, although she would beg you to. You decided to appease your sister by eating some of the food she had prepared for you. You knew you needed to move on, get on with your life. It was what you thought Alexander would want you to do.

After eating everything that you could manage to stomach, you made your way to Alexander’s study. You stand before the door. Taking a deep breath to steel your resolve, you open the door for the first time in months and you are almost bowled over with memories. The most prominent one, the last one is thrust to the front of your mind.

You open the door to Alexander’s study to find him writing, as usual. You slowly walk over to stand behind him in his desk chair. You place your hands on his shoulders to rub them. “Alexander, come back to sleep.”

He sets his pen down to caress your hand. “I have an early meeting out of town.”

You place your chin on his shoulder. “It’s still dark outside.”

He places his hand on your cheek, causing your heads to touch. “I know. I just need to write something down.”

You shake your head at his words. It was always his response when he was in his study. “Why do you write like you’re running out of time?” You move to wrap your arms around his neck from behind him, placing your head on top of his.

He tries to shush you but you continue. “Come back to bed. That would be enough.” A small smile spreads across his face as he tries to appease you.

“I’ll be back before you know I’m gone.”

“Come back to sleep” You whisper in his ear.

“This meeting’s at dawn.”

You sigh, finally feeling resigned that he is not going to join you. “Well, I’m going back to sleep.” You place a kiss to the top of his head and begin to leave.

He grabs your hand before you are out of reach and pulls you to look at him. “Hey, best of wives and best of women.” He places a chaste kiss on the top of your hand, just like he did on the day you met.

You collapse to your knees as the memory wrenches your heart. If you had only known what that meeting was, you would have tried harder to get him to stay. You sat inside the doorway of his study, sobbing into your hands. Once you felt like you had no more tears to cry again, you dried your face with your handkerchief. Well, it wasn’t yours, it was Alexander’s but you held onto it, a physical piece of him you could still hold. Bringing yourself up off the floor, you walk over to his desk, Alexander was still the last person to touch it. You expressly forbade anyone touching this room, so you would always have this room that was just Alexander’s. It was still a mess, like always. Your eyes caught a piece that didn’t have Alexander’s scribblings all over it. It only had your name in the most elegant script you had ever seen in the center with the Hamilton family seal in bright red wax just underneath, holding it closed. It was from your husband, you just knew it. As you carefully reached your hand towards the letter, you blinked and it almost looked as if it had faded from view, just like Alexander had done in your dreams over the past few weeks. But, your tired eyes were playing tricks on you, the letter coming back into focus. Grabbing it quickly before you thought it would disappear again, you held it close to your heart. After taking a moment, with shaky hands, you break the three month old piece of wax. You gently open the last piece of correspondence that your beloved husband had written you.

My dearest Y/N,

You are just leaving the room heading back to bed after trying to get me to join you. I can not tell you hard it was to deny you of your request, especially if I am not able to return to you, my darling.

If I don’t, please don’t waste your precious time mourning my passing. Even though I am gone, I will always be with you. When darkness comes and tries swallow your sweet, bright light, I will light the night with stars, hear me whisper to you in the dark to bring you back to the light where you belong. Please know that I am never far away, I am always in your heart to guide you. I know that the path after this, if I don’t make it, will feel lonely and ragged. But along with our children and our dearest sister, Angelica, my love with surround you like a crimson robe, filling you with warmth, giving you comfort and make you look like the queen you are. You are the queen of my heart. Even though, I had made mistakes and forsake you, my love for you will
always be an all-consuming fire. Yes, my love, I will always burn for you. I implore you one last time, my one and only true love, please, do not cry for me. It will cause my soul grief to have to watch.

Loving you for forever,

Yours and only yours,


You read the letter over and over again, crying, even though, beyond the grave, your one love begs you not to. As his words flow over you, your resolve begins to harden. He didn’t want this for you. He didn’t want you to be remembered as his weeping widow. Legacy. The one thing, besides you, that he had always wanted was to leave a legacy that would be remembered. You decide, here and now, that you would pick up your husband’s mantle. You would do everything in your power to protect his legacy, to tell his story. You gently fold the precious letter and place it in the locket that Alexander had given you.

“I saw it in the shop and I just had to get it for my darling Y/N.” He whispered in your ear as he clasped the locket around your neck. You turn round in in embrace so he can see it. The smile on his face grew wider. He lifts his hand to your face to caress your cheek, “It suits you.”

Another memory, this time a happy one, comes to mind. You find yourself smiling, really smiling, for the first time in months. You finally begin to feel alive again.

Hours later, you hear Angelica and the children start to come home for the day. You race downstairs to greet them. They all stop in shock when you come barreling towards them with a pep in your step and a smile on your face. You wrap your arms around your sister first. “Y/N, are you alright?” she asks, gently wrapping her arms around you like you were a porcelain doll, ready to crack at any moment. You pull back, smiling, then turn and start loving on each of your children. You look at each of them and you see the bits of Alexander in each of them. Alexander Junior had his eyes, John had his nose, James had his dimples, William had his chin, Little Angie had his mischievous grin, and Baby Philip, oh, he was spitting image of him.

After sending them to play, you are left alone with your sister. “Y/N, what happened? Don’t get me wrong, I am so happy that you aren’t mourning anymore. But, what changed?” She held both of your hands in hers. You gently pulled them away. “I finally realized that how I have been behaving is not what Alexander would have wanted for me. He would want to me to live my life, not waste my time on tears. I am ready to pick up where he left off.”

And you did. You spend hours going through all of his writing. You interview anyone who had been at his side, from soldiers that fought with him in the Revolutionary War to the other politicians who had been with him or against him. You rally and stand against slavery and support all of Alexander’s causes. Knowing that Alexander, not only wanted his story told but those he surrounded himself with, you petition for funds for a monument to be raised in George Washington’s honor. You spend the rest of your time on this earth trying to make sure that the name Alexander Hamilton and all he did for the great country he helped create would not be forgotten. You always felt like there was something more you could do but you always felt that if Alexander had survived, he would have done a much better job than you did.

50 years after Alexander’s death….

You are lying in bed, surrounded by your remaining children, Alexander Junior, James, John, Eliza, and Little Philip. You tell them that you loved them all dearly and to never forget you or their father and to always tell his story. “It’s almost finished, Mom. I promise to tell his story.” John told you, holding your hand. You smile, and as you look up from his eyes, off in the distance, you see an ethereal figure walking toward you. As it gets closer, you slowly begin to start noticing things. Dark, flowing hair, warm brown eyes, and the gentle smile of your beloved husband. “My Alexander.”

“Yes, Mom?” Alexander Junior asks but you don’t respond to him. Your eyes fixated just beyond the foot of your bed, past your children. Alexander stretched out his hand for you to come with him. You smile, sigh and close your eyes.

You open them and take his hand. As you look at your hand in his, yours is no longer the withered, fragile hand of an 97 year old woman. It looks like it did way back in 1804, the year Alexander passed. He looks exactly as he did that morning of the duel. “My one love, you told my story.” He grinned his small, shy smile that only you got to see. “No, I told our story.”

kingdom walls

word count: 711

He came home and it was quiet. The TV wasn’t on, the shower wasn’t running, there wasn’t even music softly humming under the door. He called out her name to hear no answer. He called again but nothing called back to him.

He walked through the house and it all seemed untouched. His coffee mug from the morning sat uncleaned by the sink. He moved down the hallway before stopping in front of their bedroom.

He tapped softly and pushed the door open, not knowing what he would find on the other side. The room was colored with the soft light from the late afternoon sun. He looked towards their bed and saw her there.

Hidden under a sea of covers, surrounded by a barricade of pillows. Her face did not show, but a small part of her hair poked through the white comforter covering her head. He slid his shoes and coat off, leaving them by the door, as he made his way towards her.

He laid gently next to her and pulled the blanket away from her head. Her face was buried among the pillows as he placed his hand on the back of her neck. His fingers tangled themselves in her hair as he rubbed her scalp.

“Hi baby,” He whispered to her. She hummed a small reply, no words attached to the sound. It was hard to read her sometimes. She kept everything so close. To get close to her was deemed impossible by most, but Shawn didn’t mind.

When you got close enough and you saw what was there it was enough to make anyone stay. It was hard work, though. To pick away at walls that took years to build. To chip at the stone with but a fingernail.

“Did you get out of bed today?” He asked kindly, there was not patronization in his voice. He dipped his hand down to her back lightly scratching against her thin shirt. Her head shook gently and he nodded.

“Why not?” He pushed. This was where it became more difficult. If you pushed too hard she would not become a diamond. She would pull away and it would be hard to get her back.

He waited in silence for a few moments, his calloused fingers moving over her skin.

“I’m just tired,” she whispered.

“Sleep tired or sad tired?” He asked.

She hesitated. Debating whether or not to invite him into her mind. A dangerous place where few attempted to venture and, thus far, none succeeded in returning from. To let him in was to force him out, that’s the way she saw it at least.

“Sleep,” she resolved.

“You sure?” He asked, refusing to give up.

She turned to look at him. Tears spilling over her eyes, flooding the kingdom of protection that she built around herself. He pulled her gently up to his chest. Her tears soaked through his shirt as rocked her back and forth.

“I’m sorry,” She whispered after a while, her hand finding his.

“I’m not,” He said, his free hand finding her tear-soaked cheek, “I know you keep trying to fight me. But, babe, I am not giving up on you. No matter how hard you try to keep me out, I will always be waiting for you. I love you and I don’t think there will be a day where I don’t. You’ve got me baby and you can’t get rid of me.”

She hummed a response and it vibrated against his chest. He gave her a quick squeeze and a hard kiss against her temple.

“How about you take a shower and we go out and grab dinner? My treat.”

She looked up at him and the way that he smiled at her and loved her and believed in her made her believe in herself. She nodded and he grinned widely at her.

They made it into town that night, their hands linked walking down the sidewalk towards their favorite spot. She looked at him and the way he looked under the stars and the streetlamp made her feel like everything would be okay. That if he was there she could do anything.

And she could.

Here’s Dreamswap Nightmare because why not. (not to be confused with Halluciv)

Note that just because he and Dream are swapped doesn’t mean his personality is different. I mean, he’s not downright evil anymore, but other than that he’s the same. He just has different motivations now.

I imagine that even though he may not be all that dedicated to his job as the negativity guardian, seeing Dream continue to claim to be the positivity guardian even after he’s become corrupt would probably irritate Nightmare and make him dig his heels in.

I have no idea what the design on the other side of his cape should be (because regular Dream has a sun even though his sign is a star), so put whatever the heck you want on it. (I’m thinking the John Cena logo or Nicolas Cage’s face)

(Original Nightmare -> @jokublog​)


Jace’s hand was suddenly damp where she was holding it, and he realized she was crying, her tears splashing down crying for him, because she loved him; even after everything that had happened, she still loved him. They both did. He fell asleep like that, with Isabelle on one side of him and Alec on the other, as the sun came up with the dawn.


The action of traveling is always fun for you. Not so much as getting to your destination, but flying over the clouds, watching the world go by beneath you…that’s what you loved. Even though you always made sure to bring multiple books and your laptop on flights, you hardly ever tore your eyes away from the view outside the window.

So, of course you were surprised when the view suddenly changed.

The world outside is awash with hues of blue and white, the yellow sun out of view on the other side of the plane from you. So when a red and gold speck shoots up out of the clouds in the distance, you frown. The mussed up clouds block the object from view for a moment before it shoots toward your plane.

Your mouth drops open when you see it’s Ironman.

Now, the lady next to you is completely asleep, so you’re left to watch in awe and shock as the scarlet and gold metal man flies beside your plane serenely for a couple of minutes. And when he departs, you swear he looks at you as he salutes and dives back down through the clouds.

Yes. You very much enjoy the action of traveling.

Going through my pictures from this morning, I arrived at this one. You may wonder what’s happening here, and it’s this: the sun shining on the other side of the tree trunk contained so much energy that the thin ice layer on the bark was being sublimated—going straight from ice to steam without melting into water first. These droplets are the steam arising from being ice molecules.

I even took a short (shaky) video of this and could possibly be persuaded to post it.

Geometric Repetition

Turning radius too tight
the geometry of clocks
mark measure calculate
roll the world over again
move the sun to the other side

Circles imbedded rings running
closed loop upon the line
protracted angles on a protractor
the sum diminished again
mathematics equated no number
to provide an answer ever
the proof has been proven a lie

If the rivers all run
how are they still here
can we become infinite
like they are always moving
never leaving still remaining here?

Or do we but dream?

Dean wakes up like the flick of a switch. On the other side of the windshield the grass is still thick with dew and the sun hasn’t cleared the trees to the east of the road. His fingers flex and he feels the brush of Sam’s jacket - right. Sam’s in the car, they’re both in the car, Sam’s still sleeping. Good. Lately he’s been sleeping always with one hand on Sam, at first with studied casualness (he fell asleep in the bedside chair cause he just can’t stop watching game show reruns, come on, Sam, I’ve always been a Vanna White guy; he came over to Sam’s bed to show him Sam some maps and fell asleep while Sam was still researching; that’s just how I like to stretch out in the car, Sam, god), but now neither of them bother to pretend. 

Mental checklist, then, whenever he blinks into the world: Sam, touching Sam, good, he’s here, is he warm, how warm is he, did he sleep, how much. Has he eaten. Where’s Lucifer sitting today. Lately there’s another one: does he know who I am. Sometimes now Sam opens his eyes and looks at Dean like he doesn’t know him, jerks away from his hands, staggers sleep-clumsy to get his back against the wall and say where am I. Sometimes he opens his eyes and looks first at someone other than Dean, some empty space in the air. They go to Denny’s at 2 am and read newspapers they’ve read before. They drive, and drive, and that part Dean can do but twice now he’s had to hold Sam down while he screamed and fought and didn’t know who Dean was and that part, Dean’s not sure he can do that part even one more time. 

But this morning Sam’s on the other side of the car, asleep, unbloodied, and the highway’s open before them. He opens the heating vent on Sam’s side a little wider and pushes open the door to take a leak.


1.04   //   1.21

Okay I need to talk about something I saw a few weeks ago in a certain scene in the opening that I’m pretty sure I’m late to the party in noticing.

Namely involving these two

Okay so let me break down my thoughts by saying

Dear Io

  1. If you were sitting with a group of friends, you usually turn to face that majority of your friends.  Who mostly seem to be on the other side of you.
  2. If you want don’t want to face the sun, thats cool I don’t blame you there…
  3. That being said, if you wanted to use your laptop which you seem to have open, pointing it so it is facing the sun is just a stupid idea.
  4. Seriously dude, we can see the glare on the screen.  Don’t even pretend that isn’t annoying.
  5. So if you’re not using your laptop, which clearly you’re not since it is facing the sun, you must be looking at something else.
  6. Oh wait the only thing in the direction you’re looking is Ryuu.
  7. Seriously Io, you’re not even trying to be discreet.  
  8. Just kiss the boy.

Okay I’m sure everyone noticed this when the opening first came on but I’ve been thinking about this for weeks.

Luna/Theo, Marriage of convenience

for @lucdarling

6. Marriage of convenience

Theo straightened his dress robes, ready to walk into the office with his mother.  She reached over to squeeze his arm before taking a few steps towards the door.  

Luna would be on the other side with her father.  

He was nervous, he’d only talked to Luna a couple of times at school and none of those times painted him in a very positive light.  They’d written each other many times over the past few weeks, upon realizing that the marriage law had once again been enacted.  He’d apologized profusely for his behavior in school, but he wasn’t convinced that he’d done everything.  

The doors opened and he saw her standing there on the other side of the door.  The sun came in through the window behind her, illuminating her hair and making her glow all over like an angel.  Her pale yellow dress robes did little to dispel the illusion.  

Theo strode forward and took her outstretched hand. She smiled warmly at him, nodding her head.  “Theo.”  

“Luna…” he replied, still holding her hand when he turned towards the magister assigned to marry them.  “I think we’re ready.”  

He felt her nod her assent.  “Yes, we’re ready.”  


“in some other life, we are standing side by side, laughing that, in some other life, we are apart." 

namjoon- virgo sun, sagittarius moon, scorpio venus x aries sun, pisces moon, scorpio venus