#*says that and lures you into the lake where you down*

[antikristvs]

Can't you see that you're lost without me?

[loveinhawkins]

ao3

Steve hears Eddie’s voice in The Upside Down.

It starts when they reach the vine infested attic of the Creel House, after they’ve lured the bats into the woods with a trail of fire, made them drowsy and stupid before setting them all ablaze; like a fucked up fairy ring, Steve had thought, and it had felt like exactly the kind of thing Eddie would think, and Steve’s trying to hold onto the words so he can remember to tell Eddie later; he wants to tell him—

He’s halfway up the stairs, stepping over a vine when he hears it.

“Shit. Oh, shit,” Eddie breathes.

He sounds so close, like he’s whispering in Steve’s ear.

And then he’s gone, and Steve’s turning to see Nancy and Robin just a step behind him—they haven’t heard anything, he can tell, but they both freeze for a moment, like they can read the fear on his face, something’s wrong, something’s really wrong.

But they all keep going, one step then another, and Steve thinks of history class, of soldiers going over the top.

He prays. Please, please…

More stairs. The door to the attic. Steve opens it.

Eddie’s voice again, high pitched and frightened. “H-hey, listen, man, you don’t—”

The sound is cut off abruptly; Steve feels a touch to the back of his hand. Robin.

He hands her the lighter, but he can see her hesitate out the corner of his eye, are you okay?

He shakes his head once, no time, and he smells a rag soaked with fuel when the voice comes again, still so desperately afraid, but hardening at the edges, “Oh, Jesus Chr—stop!”

“Steve.” Nancy next to him, eyebrows drawn.

There’s a Molotov cocktail in his hand that he can’t remember lighting.

Steve throws it.

He doesn’t even look to see if his aim is true, because Eddie is back, and his voice still shakes but there’s steel in its core, and Steve knows that all too well, knows the exact place it comes from: thinks of standing his ground in ���84, knowing deep in his bones that it was down to him, that he’d do anything so long as the kids—

“Get away from them. I’m not—I’m not fucking messing around here, get away—”

Robin throws a bottle of her own; the flames soar, and Steve hears a new voice, dark and commanding—one he’s heard across the basketball court, but never quite like this.

“And the devil that deceived them was cast into the lake of fire and brimstone—”

Nancy aims the gun.

“—where the beast and the false prophet are—”

Fires.

“—and shall be tormented day and night—”

Again.

“—forever and ever.”

Nancy steps forward, takes aim once more.

And Steve hears another pair of footsteps, someone running; he turns towards the sound, towards the door, and for a moment it’s almost as if he can feel Eddie rush past him like a ghost—wants to reach out, to grab his hand, but the sensation slips away like smoke; he’s too far away, he’s too…

Nancy takes the final shot. Henry Creel’s body shifts from something monstrous to something that’s smaller and human, but no less terrible for it.

Steve doesn’t watch. Can’t rid the feeling that it all rings false.

He can’t hear Eddie anymore. Can’t hear anything apart from the frantic thud of his own heartbeat, but that’s good, that’s good, he can work with that—lets it drive him forward, lets pure instinct take over so he’s grabbing the axe without a thought, swinging so it hits the vines still tangled on the wall, dormant, dead.

They break easily. Steve keeps going; there’s the barest hint of resistance, but all it tells him is that he’s on the right path, and then something gives, parts…

“Nance,” Steve says.

She’s right by him; he feels her hand around his wrist. From the way she squeezes tightly, knows that she’s already understood.

“Okay,” she says, fragile, “okay, okay.” A shuddering breath. “Steve, I can’t just—I have to—”

“I know,” Steve says softly, because he feels it, too: the awful thought that it’s all over too quickly. Senses Nancy’s anxiety as if it was his own, the desperate need to check, to stand vigil. Then—and only then—will she declare it over to herself.

He holds her hand, squeezes back. Lets go.

There’s movement to the left of him. Robin, her hair in her eyes, and that’s gonna bug her eventually, so Steve fixes it for her, tries to smile, to make this easy.

“Five minutes, okay?” he says—thinks of the elevator in Starcourt, how she counted the seconds passing with freakish accuracy. “No more.”

She opens her mouth, but Steve keeps talking before she can. “Promise me.”

She goes to shake her head.

“Robin, please,” he says, voice breaking.

Years ago, his mom got a phone call about the fatal car crash his uncle had been in. She’d picked up somewhere in between the second ring and the third, and then she’d screamed, and Steve had overheard without understanding—had still felt the echo of her grief.

He’s never told anyone that. But he wonders if Robin can see something of it on his face—that he’s stuck: still in between rings, the split second before the scream—because she’s nodding suddenly, close to tears, but so serious.

“I—I promise, Steve.”

He slips through the Gate in the wall, leaves them both behind—all he has to soothe him is a gut feeling, as the heat of Nancy setting the vines alight fades away: that The Upside Down is just a graveyard now. That there’s no danger to be found—not anymore.

Not in there.

He steps into the attic, where the floorboards are bare. Looks around sharply—Lucas and Max, huddled in the corner, and he can’t tell, he can’t tell if—

As Steve runs to them, a soft click filters through. Max, rewinding her tape; she’s not even looking at her Walkman, like she’s not even aware that she’s doing it. The headphones lie around her neck.

“Oh, thank God,” Steve finds himself whispering, gets one hand on Max, the other on Lucas, “thank God, thank God.”

They shake under his touch. Steve wants to shield them from every horror in existence, wants to swear to them that it’s over now, that they don’t have to do it anymore, but he has to—

“Where’s Eddie?”

It’s not a surprise when Max’s eyes dart to the door. Steve’s stomach drops anyway.

Lucas speaks, voice ragged, “Jason, he…”

And as Steve looks at him, the kid’s thirteen again, eyes wide with fear in the face of Billy Hargrove. You’re dead, Sinclair.

Steve pushes back a hot swell of anger. Hugs Lucas roughly, then Max, murmurs, “Okay, it’s okay. Stay right here. Nancy and Robin are coming, I promise.”

“Steve,” Max whispers when he’s at the door.

He turns back.

But it’s like she’s run out of words, shivering in Lucas’s arms. Still rewinding the tape, but her fingers are slipping now.

Lucas speaks for her—eyes off to the side, like he’s seeing something more than a Gate in the wall. “He had a gun.”

Steve checks a couple rooms, floorboards creaking no matter how quiet he tries to be. His heart’s still racing. It leads him to the staircase.

And Eddie’s right there, just a few steps down.

There’s the faint screech of a car driving away.

Eddie looks up at him. He’s standing obliquely, clinging to the bannister. His eyes shine in the dark, and Steve can just barely make out the evidence of bruises and cuts all across his face.

“He’s gone,” Eddie says with such relief.

I’ll kill him, Steve thinks numbly.

”I, um. I had to run,” Eddie continues, almost like he’s defending himself. “He—he wouldn’t listen, man. The kids, I… I couldn’t let him—”

“They’re fine,” Steve says, talks right over Eddie’s answering sigh, “we should go back up. Check on them.”

A pause.

“Yeah,” Eddie says. “Sure. Think I—think I just need a second.”

“Okay.”

Eddie smiles. It’s the worst thing Steve has ever seen.

“Did it work?”

“Yeah,” Steve says, his throat tight. The word is ash on his tongue. “Yeah, it worked. It’s finished.”

“Good.” Eddie inhales. “And you’ll—you’ll tell my uncle, right? Tell him I didn’t kill Chrissy.”

“Tell him yourself,” Steve snaps.

But Eddie’s shaking his head. Steve can visibly see the adrenaline draining from him: his arms shaking as his grip on the bannister falters.

“Nah, man,” Eddie says, his voice thick and wet with tears.

“Stop fucking crying,” Steve says, instantly ashamed as the words slip out—fear rendering him sharp and mean; Eddie’s hand slips, and he turns, “Oh my God,” Steve says uselessly, “Oh my God, Eddie,” because it’s not a dawning horror really, more a realisation that they’ve both been putting off.

Maybe Steve has known all along.

He gets hold of Eddie before he can fall, mutters, “Here, I’ve got—Jesus, just lie down.”

“No, I don’t—” Eddie kicks out aimlessly, panicking, “I don’t wanna lie down, I don’t wanna lie down.”

Steve ignores him. Presses down on Eddie’s abdomen, hands already slick with blood.

Eddie is hyperventilating. He keeps saying it, “I don’t wanna lie down,” until it devolves into just, “Steve, Steve, I don’t want to,” until it doesn’t sound like he’s talking about lying down at all.

“You won’t,” Steve says, “you won’t, Eddie, just—push down, okay? You’ve got to—here, here, just push—”

Eddie’s hands are slack in his, and as Steve pushes against him, harder, harder, he cries out, breathing so shallow, so quick, too quick, “I’m sorry,” Steve whispers, “I’m sorry, Eddie, I’m so sorry.”

He thinks Eddie must be in too much pain to understand—his body still spasming, still weakly fighting against Steve’s pressure.

But then he feels Eddie’s hand move, loosely clasp around his wrist.

“It’s okay,” Eddie says, still crying, but Steve can hear him smiling somehow, fuck, how can he even—?, “hey, S-Steve, it’s okay. Just—just want to go home.” He’s rambling, almost incoherent, “It’s not that far, it’s—take me home, please, please, can you take me home, just—”

“I will,” Steve lies. “We need to fix this first, okay? Eddie, are you listening? Then we can…”

He trails off at the sight of Eddie looking up at him, his eyes so big, so full of life, and Steve doesn’t understand the expression on his face, doesn’t think he’s ever seen him look like this; and he wants Eddie to explain it to him, just wants him to talk, wants to…

I want to tell him, Steve thinks nonsensically.

“Steve Harrington,” Eddie murmurs, like he’s savouring Steve’s name. “You’re so…”

But Steve will never find out what he is, the rest of the sentence lost to a pained gasp.

“Don’t talk,” Steve says. Hates how harsh he sounds. “Eddie, just. Stay.”

Eddie smiles through blood. “I think I could’ve loved you.”

Steve hears movement from way above, a door slamming open, Robin and Nancy’s voices filtering down, still too far away to understand.

He could keep talking. Keep talking to Eddie.

But he knows.

The front door opens. Erica tears through it, screaming Lucas’s name, and then she stops in her tracks.

Dustin nearly collides with her from behind. Pulls her back, face slack with horror.

Steve leans over Eddie, desperately trying to shield him from them.

Dustin’s eyes meet Steve’s, over bright with fear; Steve thinks of him freezing in the graveyard, his own panicked shout, call Nancy and Robin!

He doesn’t want it to be too late.

“Call an ambulance,” Steve says, and Dustin’s eyes widen. He doesn’t sound remotely like himself, Steve knows, but he can barely even… Can only say it again, voice breaking horribly, “Call an ambulance!”

Dustin tugs Erica back. They run.

Steve stays right where he is. Looks down, and keeps looking—doesn’t turn away, not for anything, not even when it’s obvious that Eddie’s eyes are fixed and glassy.

He will bear witness to this.

[jeonginsleftcheek]

The sun to me

Chapter VI. Caught.

pairing: hwang hyunjin x afab!reader

word count: 7.3k

chapter summary: caught in each other's hearts, you rise like the tide, souls entwined and playing notes that only two people in love can discern.

warnings: alcohol, hyun and reader talk about mommy issues, vague descriptions of masturbation

~ Masterlist for the series

~ next part

❤️Red gardenia - a silent way of saying 'I love you'

Only a few days later, in the wee morning hours, Hyunjin stalks the empty streets once again.

His mind is blank as he still didn't wake up properly, his backpack weighing heavy on his shoulders and a big thermos cup containing his favorite bitter liquid held in his hand.

Only this time he's not planning to wander around the island alone, he's meeting up with Delmar, the somewhat mysterious man who had asked him to join him in his fishing adventures.

Delmar waits for him on the pier where Hyunjin had met him for the first time, his figure once again manifesting itself in front of Hyunjin's eyes.

"Hey, boy!"- Delmar laughs, way too chipper this early in the morning.

"Morning."- Hyunjin's voice is groggy and Delmar let's out another laugh.

"Rough night?"- he asks, his hand coming down on Hyunjin's shoulder, smacking him in a friendly manner.

"It was fine, I just haven't had my morning coffee yet."- Hyunjin answers, blinking fast.

"Don't be a slave to such addictions."- Delmar grips the rope that keeps his little boat on the berth. He pulls the boat closer to the shore and nods at Hyunjin who still didn't process the sentence the man had uttered.

"Get in."- he says, with another wide smile.

Hyunjin somewhat clumsily jumps, his feet landing on the prow and he almost slips, barely catching himself as he flails his arms, making Delmar laugh again.

After he joins him, it doesn't take long for them to take off, Delmar sitting at the edge, manouvering the little fishing boat that barely fits the two men.

Hyunjin is a little too aware of how small the boat is and how they're getting further and further away from the shore, only the darkened sea in sight, as the sun still hasn't come out of it's sleep yet.

It's a bit eerie but for some reason it calms Hyunjin down at the same time, just like when one floats on water, unaware of what's deep beneath as they lay peacefully on the surface, only the sky above.

The wind that the movement of the boat creates is what refreshes Hyunjin, making him feel more awake and new as he manages to take a few sips of his coffee.

The boat slows down near a cove, and Delmar stops it, anchoring it in place. The motor sounds are finally silenced and the quietness of the early morning falls upon them.

"Alright, this is the perfect spot. Let's get to it." - Delmar pulls out two fishing rods, prepping his first as Hyunjin observes.

"Me and Isaac go fishing sometimes. I have to come and get him in his little castle and pull him out of that studio. He's always in there."- Delmar shakes his head disapprovingly, and Hyunjin lets out a little chuckle.

"He is always in there, but these last few days I've been joining him."

"Oh yeah, you're also some kind of artist, right?"- Delmar says and Hyunjin doesn't know if it's mocking or he's being serious.

"Yeah, I paint."

"Well, let me show you the art of fishing then, my friend."- Delmar lets out another laugh as he prepares the second rod, giving it to Hyunjin.

"Sounds good."- Hyunjin nods, after a few more sips of coffee and the first sun rays peeking out, he feels more energized and ready for the adventure ahead.

The scenery around him is nothing short of beautiful and he wishes he could capture it with his camera, but he didn't want to bring it to the boat in risk of it falling into the sea and disappearing forever.

Delmar takes out some live lures and Hyunjin makes a disgusted face for a second, making Delmar laugh for the nth time in the misty dawn.

"Hopefully your clothes are not too expensive, art boy."- he teases Hyunjin and he shakes his head.

"It's fine, it doesn't matter."

"Hope you have enough patience too, cause that's the most important thing you need when you fish."

"I like to think I do."- Hyunjin remembers all the times he sat and painted for hours and hours, just to hate the painting he'd created, throw it aside and start all over again.

The fishing rods with lures get lowered into the water and a comfortable silence settles between the two men.

"How did you decide to come to this island? I mean, it's not exactly big or famous and there's not much to see really."- Delmar breaks the silence after some time.

"Exactly."- Hyunjin rasps, clearing his throat.

"Oh. So you're hiding from someone?"- Delmar chuckles. "On the run from the police or something?"

Hyunjin snorts, Delmar must be watching lots of crime thrillers in his free time or reading those sorts of books.

"Just trying to ground myself and find my inspiration through simple things like this."- Hyunjin answers.

"This is a good place for inspiration. Might not have much but what little it contains, it can be very inspirational, more than your big city."

Hyunjin lets out a quiet laugh.

"The city is anything but inspiring."

"That's why I stayed here my whole life."- Delmar says. "I love it here! I have my little house and my little boat and my fishes! What else do I need? Nothing."- he finishes with a big smile.

"I wish I had that."

"What, nothing?"- Delmar jokes and Hyunjin rolls his eyes at the funny man.

Silence envelops the two men again before Hyunjin's rod gets tugged on. He panics for a moment but Delmar jumps in, letting out an excited sound as he helps Hyunjin reel the fish in.

"That's a good catch!"- he exclaims and Hyunjin feels so proud of something so simple, his heart full as the early sun warms up his cheeks.

Hyunjin has never felt this calm as the last few days, his soul slowly healing under the influence of the beautiful island and the good people surrounding him.

He can't wait to come visit your flower shop later.

You're working on a bouquet for Catherine and Bennet as their marriage anniversary is coming up soon, just as you hear footsteps approaching your little shop.

"Morning!"- you hear a gentle but excited voice that gets your heart jumping in your chest.

You whip around quickly, your skirt flowing around you, a flower still in your hand as your eyes fall on none other than Hyunjin.

The sight of him has you swallowing saliva that gathered in your mouth.

He put his hair up in a little ponytail and he's just wearing a simple white shirt and jeans but he makes them look so good, the jewelry around his neck and fingers is exquisite but tasteful. What makes him look even more irresistible is the wide smile on his face, the one that reveals his dimples and crinkles the skin around his shining eyes.

"Morning."- you let out a breath as you smile at him.

"That's pretty."- he lifts his hand up, pointing at you with a long slender finger and a wave of electricity runs through your body.

"W-what?"- you're confused for a second, your face burning in embarassment.

"The bouquet your making."- he smiles, his own cheeks rosy.

"Oh... That. Yeah, it's for Catherine and Bennet. Their wedding anniversary is in a few days so I'm just making a few different bouquets so Bennet can choose one to bring to her."- you explain as you turn back towards the flowers.

"Ah, that's really sweet."- a brief picture of Hyunjin giving you flowers like that for your anniversary, one that didn't even happen; runs through his mind and he has to shake the thoughts off before he gets too lost in them.

"It really is. They're so sweet together, still in love after being together for some time. The flowers are red gardenias. They had them as decoration on their wedding day, and they symbolize love. Lots of couples use them for their wedding day. You know the Chinese actually used to put them in love potions?"- you talk, not noticing how Hyunjin came closer to you, peering behind your shoulder, his eyes softened as he looks at your gentle hands and nimble fingers working so calmly with the delicate flowers.

"Hm, really? I hope it worked for them."- Hyunjin's voice rings right behind your ear, making you jump a little as the bouquet almost falls out of your hands but Hyunjin is quick as he wraps his arms around you and grips your hands and the bouquet.

The temperature in the room seems to reach it's peak as you gasp a little, your heart literally beating out of your chest both from your hard work almost disintegrating and from the way Hyunjin is pressed behind you, his soft hands on yours.

"T-thanks, I got it."- you say nervously but he seems to linger just for a moment, the tip of his nose barely grazing your hair as he takes a whiff of your sweet shampoo.

Lightning bolts run through his body as his mind almost becomes too clouded to think as result of being this close to you and feeling your warmth.

"Good morning!"- a happy voice calls out and the speed with which the both of you jolt away from each other should be studied by scientists.

"Barbara! Good morning!"- you answer, somewhat breathless. It must be 9am now.

"Oh, hello there. Aren't you just such a handsome young man?"- Barbara almost swoons at the sight of Hyunjin who also looks out of breath, his face flushed, the redness spreading all the way to his neck.

Hyunjin chuckles awkwardly as you place the luckily salvaged bouquet at the side.

"This is Hyunjin. Hyunjin, this is Barbara."- you say.

"Oh, you're the painter staying at Isaac's house? Oh how wonderful! Welcome to our little island."- Barbara shakes Hyunjin's hand a little too violently as you stifle a laugh at his desperate face.

"Thank you."- he says politely when she finally lets go of him.

"What's it gonna be today, Barbs?"- you ask.

"Oh, I just adored the zinnias you put together last time. And Whiskers particularly liked them so I would love for you to-"

"Make another one? No problem."- you smile at her and get to work immediately, ignoring the big question mark above Hyunjin's head.

"So, how are you managing here? Is Isaac treating you well?"- Barbara asks Hyunjin.

"Of course, he's taking great care of me."- he nods.

"What about our y/n here, she's quite the catch, don't you think?"- Barbara nudges his arm, winking at him and nodding at you.

Hyunjin panics, his lips opening and closing as you chuckle, looking up from the flowers before you.

"I'm right here, you know?"- you shake your head with a small smirk on your face.

Hyunjin looks absolutely embarassed and you feel for him, your own heart beating fast in your chest but you're trying to look calm and collected on the outside.

"What? I'm just saying, you're both young and... single?"- she looks at Hyunjin who nods just as you look up. "Why not make the best of it while you have time?"

Hyunjin went to answer but Barbara kept talking.

"Ah, I wish I had more time with my Albert. But he's gone in the clouds and there's nothing I can do about it. I do have my cats though. I know they love me."- she nods to herself as if to bring herself some comfort.

"They do."- you smile, giving her the finished bouquet. "It's on the house."

"Y/n, you are such a darling, you know that?"- Barbara smiles happily before winking at Hyunjin.

"Ah, it's nothing."- you wave your hand as she makes her way out.

"See you later, my little lovebirds!"- she chirps before walking out of the shop.

"Don't mind her."- you notice Hyunjin's flushed face and contemplative look.

"Right."- he purses his lips before giving you a small, shy smile that makes your stomach do flips.

"Hey, so what are you doing in the evening?"- Hyunjin asks, breaking the quiet moment and your heart skips a beat again.

"Not much. Why?"- you ask, getting back to your previous bouquet just to busy your hands and eyes with something else.

"I was thinking that you could show me more of the island."- Hyunjin says, biting on his lip nervously and your eyes get stuck there.

"I would love to, but the places I want to show you are not that welcoming during the night. But we can take a walk on a beach nearby if you're up for that?"- you suggest.

"Oh, that sounds great. I'll meet you back here around 7?"- he asks and you nod.

"Alright, sounds good."- you smile. "Are you leaving?"

"I mean, I don't wanna be a bother while you work."- he smiles awkwardly.

"You're not. Look around, there's no customers, only flowers."- you chuckle, gesturing with your hands theatrically and Hyunjin laughs, taking a deep breath in after that, the smell of all the flowers mixing together and getting him somewhat lightheaded.

"Can I help you somehow?"- he asks.

"You don't have to. You can just sit and..."- your eyes fall to his backpack. "Maybe sketch if you want?"

"I could do that."- Hyunjin stares wistfully at the sketchbook poking out of the bag. "I do need some coffee first. You?"

"Sure, you can get some for us at Bennet's restaurant."- you say.

Hyunjin grabs his wallet and leaves, coming back just in time as you finish the bouquet.

"Thanks."- you say as he hands you the coffee and you bring him out a chair.

"I can never have enough coffee and I think this is my fourth cup this morning?"- Hyunjin tilts his head with a confused look on his face before he sits down.

"I don't think your intestines will be too happy about that."- you chuckle and he giggles embarassingly. "But who am I to talk? I'm also crazy for coffee."

"I actually woke up pretty early this morning, at 4am."- Hyunjin starts.

"Oh?"- you encourage him to keep talking as you start preparing the second bouquet.

"Yes, I went fishing with Delmar."

"You did?"- you smile. "How was it?"

"Oddly calming."- Hyunjin squints, playing with the pages of his sketchbook absentmindedly.

"Delmar has that effect. He seems boisterous but he's a relaxed man. Plus, being on the sea in the crack of dawn must be really relaxing."

"It was, my mind was blank. I was just enjoying the moment, and I don't really get a lot of chances to just be in the moment like that in my daily life."- Hyunjin sighs.

"Really? You must be very famous."- you chuckle a little, arranging the flowers.

"Nah."- Hyunjin shakes his head and finally opens his sketchbook, propping it on his thigh that's propped up on his other leg. He looks around as you let out a snicker.

"I kinda don't believe that."- you say, as Hyunjin presses his hand on the page.

"You're kinda famous too, though. At least here on the island. You're the only florist here."- he makes a point as you work away and hear the scratches of his pen on the paper.

"I guess I am."- you chuckle. "So, did the two of you catch anything?"

"Oh, we sure did! He brought some to the restaurant and some for himself and then for Isaac. So, I think I caught my own lunch."- Hyunjin lets out a laugh.

"It's gonna be even more delicious, trust me."- you smile and you fall into small talk, you putting on some gentle music in the background to keep the atmosphere sweet and light.

The small talk eventually turns into comfortable silence as you work on the bouquets and Hyunjin works on his sketch.

Both of you are as calm as can be, lost in your own imagination but aware of each other's presence, instilling some kind of comfort into one another's soul.

The quiet acoustic music adds new notes to the already intoxicating smell of the flowers, bringing a trance-like state to the pair of you.

Hyunjin doesn't even realize it but his heart is guiding his hand for the first time in what feels like an eternity, amidst the shapes of the flowers his pen finds the shape of you.

You finish up the last bouquet and look at Hyunjin, your heart stirring awake again at the sight of his brows furrowed, his lips parted, his hair is now down as he runs a hand through it.

He tilts his head left and right as he stares at his sketchbook adding lines seemingly at random, but it makes perfect sense as every single dot creates a full picture that says more than a thousand words.

He must've felt your eyes on him as he looks directly at you, catching you staring at him.

"Are you done with your arrangments?"- he asks and you nod.

"I think I'm done too."- he smiles proudly, still somewhat timid at the same time as he brings the sketchbook closer to his face.

"Can I see?"- you ask and he quickly nods, his hands shaking a little as he reaches the sketchbook towards you.

Your hands accept the somewhat heavy book and as your eyes adjust, you gasp.

"Is that- is that me?"- you ask, your throat dry suddenly.

"Yeah. You and all your flowers."- Hyunjin smiles fondly but you can't look up from the sketch.

"It's beautiful."- you say, mesmerized.

You're beautiful. He wants to say, but the words die on his tongue and he swallows them.

"It is."- he says and you look at him, your legs suddenly feel like they're made out of jelly.

"Can I have a look through?"- you ask and Hyunjin stands up.

"Sure, there's not much there though. As you know, I'm experiencing a little art block right now."- he scratches the back of his head as he stands next to you, the warmth from his body heating you up to your very core.

"That's okay."- you flip the pages to the beginning.

As you look through, all the unfinished sketches that Hyunjin has abandoned and hated, surfacing out and reflecting in your eyes, bring out his vunerability out in the open, letting you have it and do with it as you wish.

The numb pain that suffocated him in the city, pricks at his heart like little invisible needles as you silently study the unfinished buildings, faces and views. The severed hands reaching out for your throat and huge laughing mouths with teeth so big that lurk in the dark with the intent to swallow you whole.

At last, you come to the wave, the one smudged with Hyunjin's pain in liquid form and you turn the page slowly to see the sketch of you he just finished.

"Not exactly what you expected, huh?"- Hyunjin asks as you bite on your lip and stare at the drawing.

"It's really gloomy, most of the time."- you say quietly before you look up at Hyunjin.

Time seems to be frozen in one frame as his face is close to yours and you can count all the unfallen tears in his eyes and hear every gentle breath he takes in.

Hyunjin becomes entranced by your beauty and the way you look at him, like you actually see him, like you actually know him, like your eyes are somehow magical, connecting your heart to them and pouring out into his own heart, seeing the tip of the ugly inside him and still not turning away.

His hand reaches up and your breath gets stuck in your throat as Hyunjin touches your hair delicately.

"There was a petal in your hair."- he whispers, holding onto it and showing you the red petal of the gardenias you worked with just a few moments earlier.

"Oh, thanks."- you chuckle, leaning away a little as you come back to reality.

You clear your throat and hand him back his sketchbook and Hyunjin still looks somewhat hypnotized.

"Well, it's almost my lunch time. Do you want to join me?"- you ask and that seems to break his trance.

"Um, Isaac asked me to have lunch with him. But, let's have a raincheck on lunch, and I'll uh- see you tonight?"- Hyunjin is somewhat panicked as he hurries to his backpack to put his sketchbook away.

"Yeah, see you. Have a good lunch!"- you stand on your tippytoes as he suddenly slings his backpack on his shoulders.

"You too!"- he calls with a smile before hurrying out of your shop, leaving you confused with a mix of feelings and his smell enveloping you in a hug, even more prominent than all the flowers surrounding you.

What was that?

What was that?

Hyunjin can't wrap his mind around the overwhelming feeling blossoming inside him.

When was the last time he felt like that, when just one look from you could make him crumble and crawl at your feet?

It's dangerous waters he's dipping his toes in but he can't help but want to emerge his entire being into the wild stream and let it take him wherever it wants as long as he gets to hold onto your hand the whole time.

The urge to kiss you when you looked deep into his eyes, staring right into his wounded soul was almost too hard to tame. His eyes flutter like delicate wings of a butterfly and his lips purse involuntarily as he imagines pressing them into yours, drinking you in like you're the very water that quenches his deep-seated thirst.

You may not have put your kind hand in his, but your loving nature touched him, played some kind of intricate song inside his heart and Hyunjin knows it's too late to even try and back out.

The seed was becoming a sprout and now it needed the sun's warmth and the freshness of water to nurture it into a full blossom.

Hyunjin opens the door to Isaac's house only to be greeted by loud laughter coming from the dining room. He leaves his backpack next to one of the shelves in the hall and follows the sound.

"Oh, here's my helper!"- Delmar turns to look at Hyunjin with a wide smile, a glass of red wine in his hand.

"Come join us, Hyunjin. You came just in time! I prepared the fish for lunch."- Isaac beckons him quickly.

Both of the men's cheeks are rosy indicating they've been enjoying the red liquid for some time already.

Hyunjin joins them, and as soon as his butt touches the chair, Delmar pours some wine in his glass.

"Drink up!"- he chuckles and the three men clink their glasses.

The meal is filled with laughter and stories from the older men's younger days and Hyunjin feels a pleasant buzz in his body from the wine, his mind constantly running back to you.

Hyunjin's glass is never empty even when he drinks the last drop, the space gets filled with more. The men have now started singing and talking nonsensical things, so Hyunjin excuses himself, getting up on wobbly feet as the alcohol rushes through his bloodstream.

Delmar protests but Isaac calms him down.

"Let the boy go. He's got plans."- Isaac looks at Hyunjin pointedly and Hyunjin hiccups as his face gets incredibly warmer.

"Hope those plans involve a pretty lady."- Delmar wears somewhat of a sleazy smile making Isaac scold him.

He must get like that when he's drunk and Isaac shuts him up before he can say anything else.

Hyunjin grabs his backpack and makes his way upstairs, feeling a bit disoriented as the wooden sculptures scrutinize him and observe his drunken stumbling.

He walks into his room, closing the door and weariness washes over him, making him topple over and fall on his bed face first, a grunt leaving his lips, muffled by the covers.

Hyunjin turns on his side and falls asleep instantly.

His dreams are a whirlwind of moving pictures, the red smiling faces of Delmar and Isaac, your kind eyes and soft hands, his mother's cold ones squeezing his heart until the last drop of blood has seeped between her knuckles. His canvases, splashed with color turning into thick blood that slowly drips down onto his expensive shoes.

Nothing makes sense anymore, unless it's filled with you.

Hyunjin awakes with a start, finding that he has an ache in his neck and that he's covered in sweat after the alcohol-inducing turmoil of dreams that have tortured him. His eyes adjust on the clock sitting on his nightstand and he gasps, lifting up in panic.

It's already 6:20pm and he feels like he's been run over by ten trucks. He gets up quickly, peeling his sticky clothes away, feeling gross as he hops in the shower, the cool water calming down his simmering skin.

Hyunjin's eyes are closed as he stands under the water, snippets of his tortured dreams playing behind his eyelids.

He hasn't called his mother in months. Maybe he should do that one of these days. Just not today, not when you've made his day beautiful, brought back a piece of his soul with just your existence. He doesn't want to be ripped to pieces again, his mother's cold voice piercing through his skin like a knife that twists and turns until he becomes numb to the pain it inflicts.

Shivers settle in his body, all the way to his bones and he turns the water up to a warmer temperature, closing his eyes once again and thinking of you.

You, surrounded by all the delicate flowers, you who is so strong but gentle and loving like a summer breeze caressing the landscape and swaying the grass like you're making it dance.

You, who are making his heart dance too after he thought it withered and shriveled up, dying between the cold concrete, buried somewhere to be forgotten.

No, it is not forgotten or buried, it is resting in your hands that are warming it up and watering it with the kindness that's undoubtedly running through your very being like you were made from nothing but pure love.

Hyunjin craves you, craves to be close to you but he thinks he doesn't know how.

Maybe it's because he's coming down from the alcohol, maybe it's because of his mother's bitterness or maybe it's because you actually see him, but he lets his hot tears mix with the droplets of water sliding down his cheeks to be taken away by the drain.

He'll be okay. He'll be okay. He'll be okay.

Standing in front of your flower shop, you're jumping from foot to foot in excitement.

You've spent the afternoon in a kind of haze, like you were walking on clouds the whole time, your heart full of Hyunjin.

You couldn't stop thinking about him, and you didn't want to, with him everything felt right.

The way he looked at you and smiled at you, the closeness of his face to yours poured a comforting feeling all over your body and soul, making you wish you could fall into him deep and let him catch you and hold you until the end of time.

Any other man who held you close, whose hands touched your skin, whose lips kissed yours, none of them had been inside you the way Hyunjin is, not even if they were physically inside you, it all meant nothing next to Hyunjin's presence embracing your heart.

He's five minutes late and you see him rushing towards you like a hurricane coming down at you, his legs taking long strides as his cardigan flails behind him like a magic cape, his hair wilding around his smiling face.

"I am so sorry for being late!"- he says as soon as he's within earshot.

"It's okay, it's only five minutes."- you chuckle and he tries to open his mouth just to cough and you let out another giggle. "Take a few deep breaths."

He does so, opening the water bottle in his hand and taking a few much needed gulps.

"You didn't have to run like that."- you said.

"I didn't wanna make you wait."- he smiles apologetically.

"I don't really have anywhere else to be."- you snicker and he laughs a little.

"So you're just hanging out with me to kill some time?"- he asks as you start walking.

"Something of that sort."- you tease.

"Ouch."- Hyunjin shakes his head, his hand splayed dramatically over his heart.

He knows you're only joking with the smile you give to him, and the two of you walk closer than you did before, your shoulders brushing a few times as you make your way to the beach, electric shockwaves running through your bodies.

"So... I got a little drunk in the afternoon."- Hyunjin pouts comically and you burst into laughter.

"Let me guess. Delmar and Isaac."

"How'd you know?"- he asks and you giggle.

"I've kinda been living here my whole life."- you joke. "They're always like that when they get together."

"Good to know but, I mean, you could've warned me before."- Hyunjin teases.

"Eh, even if I did warn you, they'd find a way to rope you into their shenanigans."- you shake your head as the gravel crunches beneath your feet again, noisy in the otherwise quiet evening.

"I believe that."- Hyunjin chuckles. "Also, they got even more shitfaced than me. It was horrible!"

You laugh, your shoulder bumping against Hyunjin's again and he shivers.

"I fell asleep after, that's why I was late."- Hyunjin excuses himself, not mentioning how hard it was to stop the tears flowing once they'd been released.

"It's okay, I really don't mind. You woke up at 4am anyways, I guess you needed sleep."

"You're right."- Hyunjin nods as you finally make it to the beach.

"Wanna sit over there?"- you ask, pointing at some rocks near the water.

"Sure."- he nods.

The sun is almost swallowed by the sea now, the first stars making themselves visible on the slowly darkening sky.

Hyunjin stares up as the two of you sit down on a towel you brought.

"That's Venus."

"The planet?"- Hyunjin stares at the shining dot.

"Mhm. It's visible during this time of the day."

"How do you recognize it?"

"Planets don't flicker when air passes by them. Stars do. And they're usually bigger and brighter. Plus if you observe the sky a little too much, you will learn the movements and placements."- you look down from the shiny planet to find Hyunjin looking at you now.

"Do you?"- he asks, his eyes flicking to your lips.

"Do I what?"

"Observe the sky a little too much?"- he chuckles and your face warms up a little as you giggle embarassingly.

"Only sometimes. It's just a mindblowing fact that were actually looking at the past."- you say, turning away to see the sun has settled down, the sky becoming more darkened, pulling the blanket of stars further over itself.

"I heard about that. But I don't understand how it works."- Hyunjin admits, a sheepish smile on his face as you look at him.

"Because of the speed of light. For example, the star Sirius is some 8.6 light years away. That means the light from it that's hitting us tonight has been traveling for 8.6 years."- you explain and Hyunjin gasps a little.

"So we're looking at something that has happened 8.6 years before?"- he asks, pursing his lips as he looks up, his brows furrowed.

"Mhm. And the further the star is, the effect gets bigger. Like there are stars that are millions and millions light years away. They may even not exist anymore but the time it took the light to travel to our eyes makes it seem like it's still there in the sky now."

"That's insane!"

"It is."- you chuckle at Hyunjin's flabbergasted expression.

"You're really smart."- he smiles at you.

"Nah, I just have a lot of time on my hands."- you say and he shakes his head.

"I know other people who also have lots of time but they waste it on dumb shit so you are definitely smart."- he nods and you laugh.

"Alright, if you insist."- you say and he laughs, only then making you notice how close he is to you, your knees brushing against each other's.

"What's that one?"- Hyunjin points to something in the sky and you lean closer to look at the direction.

"The three stars?"- you ask and he nods. "Orion's belt. Look."- you slowly trace it with your finger in the air and Hyunjin follows with his eyes.

"It's a constellation."- you say.

"Wow, why does it look like there are actual lines between the stars?"- Hyunjin asks.

"I guess we like patterns, so much so that we tend to create them even where they don't really exist. We need to pinpoint the meaning of things that surround us."- you gesture with your hands.

"I guess that's true. Don't you think there's some kind of pattern to it all though?"- Hyunjin asks.

"Sometimes I do and sometimes I don't. Like there are moments of synchronicity that really make me think that there are some big hands up there, rearranging everything to fall perfectly into place. But then some other times, I just think life is random and the universe doesn't care about us, it's just chaos that we're trying to make sense of for the sake of our own sanity."- you explain.

"Don't you think us sitting here together has some deeper meaning?"- Hyunjin asks and you look at him.

"Maybe it does, maybe it doesn't. It doesn't matter in the grand scheme of things though, as long as it has meaning to us."- you smile and he returns the smile, thousands of stars reflecting in his brown eyes.

"I like that. It doesn't have to be some great design, just something we make out of it."

"Sometimes it's better not to question those things and think too deeply into it because it can drive you crazy."- you say.

"I agree with that. Overthinking about anything drives you crazy anyways. That's why I try to put all those swirling thoughts out on blank canvases. Or well, I used to do that, now I just feel a bit lost."- Hyunjin sighs as he looks at his lap, his fingers picking at a loose thread off his jeans.

"It's okay to be lost sometimes. It can actually be good, I think. It helps you find something new and maybe something even better than what you had before."- you observe the way his hair falls around his face, framing him like the most beautiful painting on a wall of some prestigious museum.

"True, I guess I became too rigid about everything and detached from myself. I'm slowly coming back to me, being here. Away from all the shit in the city."

"What is so bad there that's got you this lost?"- you ask and Hyunjin freezes a little.

"You're gonna think I'm a horrible person if I tell you."- Hyunjin doesn't look up at you.

"I doubt that. Really, I won't judge."- you say and your gentle voice soothes Hyunjin's scared heart.

What if you hate him after he says it all out loud? Could he lie to you and tell you some other story, one that doesn't belong to him? No, he could never lie to you, tarnish whatever it is that's entwined between you now.

"Well. If I'm honest with myself in this moment, I became a sell-out."- he snorts sarcastically. "I used to paint for the love of art, but now it's just for money. My manager pushes me a lot. I even opened up my own gallery with his help, where I host shows of my own and of course help other artists with their exhibitions. I always wanted that, you know, to do what I love and actually make money from it. But it just doesn't feel like me anymore? You know that saying, be careful what you wish for?"- he looks up at you and you nod carefully.

"Well, I got exactly what I wanted. My name in lights, my paintings on the walls, and all the expensive shit I could ever afford. It's just that, at the end of the day I'm lonely and indifferent to the world around me. It feels like I'm a shadow of who I used to be, just an empty shell going in a fucking circle."- Hyunjin lifts his arms up in frustration, before letting them fall in his lap again.

"And I have to do some things I'm not proud of."

"Like?"- you say quietly and he looks at you.

"You know what exclusive rich people parties include?"- he asks and you nod slowly.

"Drugs?"- you ask and he sighs.

"Sadly, yes."

"Can't you just say no?"- you tilt your head at him.

"Ha! My manager would eat me alive if I missed any chance to have some sleazy rich fucker buy my shit."- Hyunjin shakes his head.

"I know I sound like a spoiled rich guy and that is exactly what I despise. I never wanted to become this, you know."

"Hey, it's okay."- you smile a little. "We all have our burdens. If it's any consolation, I feel lonely too. The only time I'm not lonely is when I'm in my garden, cause the flowers are alive and they're there for me. I know it sounds crazy because they don't understand me and they can't talk back to me but I feel like they can still listen for some reason. Since my mom died, I never had anyone that close to me, well, I was kind of lonely next to her too. She'd spend more time in her garden than with me. I hated her a little for that."

"I hate my mother a little too."- Hyunjin had never said it out loud and he almost gasps at the slip up. "No, I hate her a lot."- he bites his lip, it's out now.

"How so? If you want to share."

"She never loved me. She only loved her paintings and she wanted me to be absolutely perfect. Sometimes she'd make me paint for hours and hours until my hands were cramping and she didn't care if I cried so I stopped that and never cried before her again. She wanted me to go to the most prestigious academy, the one she attended too, to become some acclaimed painter. She scrutinized every single detail, not just in my paintings, but me in general and one time I talked back to her. Oh, she didn't like that at all. I cursed her out and she slapped me across the face and called me an ungrateful bastard. So, I sat and painted even with my head throbbing with pain. So, ugh, I have a love-hate relationship with what I do. I'd love to just paint for my soul, not for other people. Also, I am sorry for trauma dumping."- Hyunjin feels embarassed as he looks at you but you are still there, gentle as ever, your eyes kind as you scoot closer to him.

"It's okay, we're both kinda doing that tonight."- you chuckle quietly. "I'm sorry you had to go through all that, it's horrible to not have your mother's warmth while growing up, I can kinda relate to that. My mother was a little more present than yours, but ultimately she was living for her flowers. She screamed at me when she was sick, telling me to go take care of her garden and not let her flowers die, she threatened to crawl into the garden herself and do it even if she died right next to them. She was hard to take care of when she fell sick. I know this is horrible to say, but I couldn't wait for her to die. She'd be in peace, I'd be in peace. Like I had to leave my whole life in the city to move back here and take care of her. And she was difficult on purpose."

"I'm sorry y/n. That really must've felt horrible."- Hyunjin looks at you sympathetically.

"Glad it's over now. It's just that sometimes I feel like I'm becoming her."

"You're definitely not."- Hyunjin says quickly.

"How do you know?"- you tilt your head at him.

"You're too warm and kind to be cold to people around you."- he smiles, making your cheeks warm up.

"Oh. Thank you?"- you say and he chuckles.

"Look at us, getting closer through our mommy issues."- Hyunjin shakes his head and you laugh, shivering a little.

"Are you cold?"- Hyunjin notices and you nod.

"A little. Forgot my jacket."- you say.

Hyunjin doesn't say anything, just takes his cardigan off and gently drapes it over your shoulders.

"Aren't you gonna be cold?"- you ask, your heart beating fast as you put your arms through the sleeves, enveloping yourself in Hyunjin's scent and warmth.

"No, I'm warmed up."- he smiles at you sweetly, his cheeks rosy.

"So, how long are you planning on staying here?"- you ask, looking up ahead as the darkness had settled in, making it hard to discern where the sky starts and the sea ends.

"I don't know yet. Honestly, I never want to leave."- Hyunjin says and you chuckle a little.

"I guess the charm of our little island has gotten to you."- you wiggle your eyebrows at him and he giggles.

"It definitely did."- his eyes are on your lips again, and your chest constricts at the thought of Hyunjin going back to the city and leaving you behind.

"That's good to hear. You're welcome to stay here and become a permanent resident."- you smile and he thanks you dramatically before the two of you fall into more light topics of favorite movies and music, just to lift up the heaviness from before.

It is well after midnight as Hyunjin walks you home, insisting that you keep the cardigan and return it to him some other day.

And as he walks back to Isaac's house, the black clouds gather more closely.

Hyunjin lays in bed that night, restless and inspired, excited and aroused, in love and out of his mind. Grabbing his sketchbook he works tirelessly into the wee morning hours, drawing shapes of you into the pages, shapes that are already etched into his heart. The hand that was holding his pen, eventually ends up between his legs, as he imagines the two of you shaped like a tide, waves crashing on the rocks in fervor, sweat dripping down his forehead as he clutches himself and moves faster. He wants you, needs you, loves you. And he realizes that when your name spills from his lips just as he spills on his hand, hips stuttering from the explosive feeling it brought to him.

You are restless too, clutching onto his cardigan, giddy like some teenage girl with a high school crush, and you dare to dream about him, your mind constantly going back to the brushes of knees and eyes on lips. Your fingers dance on your skin, imagining it's Hyunjin's, hot and wet on your core and inside you as you inhale his scent.

As the white explodes behind your eyelids, a fire burns within your soul, the warm sea gushing between your legs, fireworks sizzling through your body, your mind screams his name.

Hyunjin. Hyunjin. Hyunjin.

✨Taglist: @moonchild9350 @janepg @velvetmoonlght @hwanghyunjinismybae @jehhskz @laylasbunbunny @porangporangmeong @jeonginslefthand @sapphirewaves @simpforleeknaur @laughatdanger @lixies-favorite-cookie @linavc @quokkacidal @thisaintredwine @m00gyu @yaorzu-blog @skzfelixlove @tajannah-price1 @puccaaak @aft2rsexs @xxkissesforchanniexx @aprilmaejune77 @lilmeowneow @stayjinnie @astrobebba @danihwang882 @kaysungshine @nchhuhi @1810cl @chartrucewhore @babigriin @jisuperboard @alisonyus @minluvly @instantsoulnight @kkamismom12 @its-stayville-forever @s3ungm1nxxl0ve

[annikin-annotates]

Lady of the Lake

Hi y’all! I’m so glad to be writing this for my dear kindred spirit for her 1,000 followers celebration! I hope you all enjoy the One Shot I’ve created using Hozier's Butchered Tongues as my base. Congratulations my dear @arcielee, you deserve all the love you receive, I hope this lives up to your expectations!. 

Let me know if you would like to be added to my taglists!

Happy reading.

Pairing: Aemond x Siren!Reader

Word Count: 3,069 (Nice)

Warnings; Blood, mentions of death, thoughts of ripping Aemond limb from limb. Minors DNI 18+

Chosen lyrics; They are buried without scalp in the shattered bedrock of our home.

The lake had been covered in misty fog, its eerie tendrils dancing just above the surface of the water, if one looked close enough they could see water sprites at work. Humans believed that magic was gone from the world, but if they only looked a little closer they would see that it was still here, barely; like the final embers on a candle wick. 

She lived beneath the surface of a pond, a safe haven under the ever changing waters of the stream that flows into it. It was always quiet in her small pond, the blue gills and catfish her only company. Though she would not say that it was entirely awful, it may be secluded and quiet but it was always safe, and being safe meant staying alive. 

Trees twisted and wrapped their way around one another, strangling one another for a chance at seeing the sun, oh how she longed for the sun’s warmth. The dense dark green thickets surrounding the edge of the lake, pointed thorns dipping into the water, another reminder of the cage she had put herself in. 

She slipped below the surface once more, sinking to the mossy floor, her head resting on a mossy rock, staring up at the underside of the lily pads. She spent the rest of her day hunting catfish and playing with the small water spiders that skimmed across the surface of the water.

She spent her night curled up in a patch of Hydrilla, its green tips making a space in the water. She stared up into the inky expanse and wondered what it was like above the surface. She wondered if perhaps one day, she too could walk amongst them. She had walked on land before, some centuries ago when she was only a girl.

Back when humans knew and respected the creatures that dwell out of sight, the rulers of nature. For a time they had lived in peace, silently walking amongst them, helping when needed, fighting in wars that were not ours, and aiding the sick with cures and magic long forgotten by mankind.

Somewhere along the path, we had become a threat, a danger to humans, they began to push them back into the woods and lakes, away from civilisations. Her mother was forced from her job as a maid in a keep not far from where she dwelled, it was not long after that, they began to cull them. All her family were snuffed out within a night, now all of them laid at the bottom of the God’s Eye.

All except her. 

She shook the thoughts from her head, she couldn’t bear to think about it any more. She reached a webbed hand toward the starry sky, the rippled surface obscuring the true beauty of it. Her arm came to rest by her side, disturbing the sediment as she sighed, an air pocket travelling all the way to the surface.  

Shimmering sunlight awoke her from her slumber, she sat up and stretched her arms and leant forward to stretch her back, the dorsal fin waying with the current. Perhaps today she would sun herself on the boulder in her lake, enjoy the sound of birdsong and they trickling water. The warmth of the flat rock warmed her cold flesh, her tail swishing in the clear water beneath her. 

The sun had just begun to beam down into her pond, refracting different colours like light onto a thousand precious gems. She spent time braiding her hair down the length of her back, small river flowers delicately weaved into it. She hummed the melody of a song her mother used to sing to her when she was young, the same one she would use to lure men to their watery graves. 

The sound of approaching hooves sent her beneath the water again, resurfacing in the safety of the water reeds. Directly across from her was a lithe man knelt by the running water of the stream, drinking handfuls of water. He was marvellous to look at, his deep green clothes and gold trimmed armour and his hair that looked like spun silver fluttering in the gentle wind. 

A familiar primal feeling came over her, it was stronger than she had ever felt before: have him, have him, devour him, feast upon his bones, it chanted. It frightened her, but she followed the feeling, diving below the water once more only to look at him from between the reeds. She could see all the features of his face now, a strong chin and pronounced nose and eyes that glittered like amethysts in the sun. He was handsome, but she could taste the sadness permeating from him, the wish to be anywhere other than where he was, she empathised with him. 

‘Come and find me,’ she whispered, edging him closer and closer to the water ‘Let me free you from your burdens,’ she cooed, watching him fall deeper and deeper under her spell. 

He was within her grasp, she surfaced from beneath the water, scaled chest glimmering in the sunlight, a webbed hand extended for him to take. Their fingers ghosted one another, his hands were soft and warm while hers were cold and slippery, ‘Come to me, my sweet,’ she hummed melodically. She could practically feel her teeth sinking into his flesh, tearing him limb from limb, the thought sent her milky eyes rolling back into her head. 

A woman with long dark hair grasped his shoulder, pulling him from her carefully laid trance, “You mustn’t venture too close to the water, my Prince,” she said firmly. By the time he had flicked his eyes towards the other woman and back to the water, she was gone. 

“Why?” she heard him ask, standing from the waters edge, his eyes hadn’t yet left the spot where he saw her. 

“Dark creatures lurk below the surface of these waters,” the woman replied, though the conversation had become less clear the further they ventured from the water. 

The woman in the water haunted him for days after returning to Harrenhal, the word she spoke to him ringing in his ears, ‘Let me free you from your burdens,’ she had said. She was slowly consuming him, mind, body and soul, and he had no desire to break free from her hold. He would never forget the feeling of being lured by her, both horrifying and euphoric. 

He saw flashes of her everywhere, peeking around corners, the melody of birdsong and in his dark haired lover. He saw her in the pursuit of his own high, chasing her from the recesses of his mind, Alys’ face slowly morphing into the face he saw below the water. Aemond could almost feel her talons ghosting along his skin, leaving rippling heat in its wake.

The feeling of fangs pressing against the column of his throat sent him into a frenzy of thrusts, his large hands guiding the body above him. The melodic song he had heard from her, guiding him like a boat through a tempest, had driven him over the edge. ‘Aemond,’ Alys moaned, though he heard only the melodic voice of the woman in the water. 

He didn’t dare look up at her, instead he slipped from beneath her, choosing to stand at the windowsill, looking over the God’s Eye, wondering about her. Slender fingers and soft lips trailed over his shoulder and down his arm, and yet it did not stoke the fire that burned deep within him as it usually did. 

“It’s her, isn’t it?” Alys asked her nose softly nudging the nape of his neck, her hands never leaving him.

Aemond thought for a moment, “Yes,” he replied, a cold edge to his voice. 

Alys pulled away from him, recoiling from the coldness of the  response “I see,” she said, clearing her throat. “I shall leave you be, my Prince,” she continued, making her way to where her clothes lay. She dressed silently and left through the servants corridor, to remain unseen. 

—

Muffled dragon cries woke her abruptly from her slumber, she broke the surface of the water, a panicked gasp tearing from her as she looked helplessly at the sky. She looked around her, as flickering embers and ash fell from the sky, she couldn’t stay here. Today would be the day where she would face her fears and leave the safety of her pond.

She heaved herself up through the bramble that surrounded her pond, thorns pricking and scratching her tender skin, half blind from the sun. Her legs wobbled as she took a few steps before breaking out into a stumbling run, similar to that of a newborn foal. She cried out in pain as she began to run, nothing good could come from two dragons warring above, she needed to clear out of the pond, she could return when it was safe. 

The pain in her legs and feet was extraordinary, each log she cleared felt as though she was stepping on shards of glass when she landed. It was so loud, the overlapping shouts of soldiers, the clanking of armour and screeching of metal on metal, it was cacophonous; it reeked of self assured destruction. Every bone inside her wanted to turn around and leap back into the safety of her pond, but now wasn’t the time for hiding, it was the time for running. 

She veered deeper into the forest, but something made her stop to look up at the sky, to the dragons wrapping themselves around one another. She turned away once more, determined to find some other body of water to bide her time, when an ear piercing screech sent her to a screeching halt. Her breath heaved in her chest, her lungs working overtime ‘He needs you,’ a pleading voice whispered.

It was enough to send her careening towards the waters of the God’s Eye. 

The larger of the dragons was falling towards the lake, its throat had been ripped open, flames escaping the wound. If its rider was to stand any chance of living she would need to rescue him, humans didn’t live long once they entered her domain. She threw herself head first into its frigid waters, disappearing into its depths untraced. Her eyes only needed a minute to adjust to her surroundings once more, the world around her becoming a little clearer, and it would be any moment before that scaled beast would hit the water.

The crash was unimaginable, sediment and rocks flew past her as she braced herself by a sunken boulder, she could hear the sound of the heart drumming in his chest. It was now a race to find him before The Stranger did, she at the very least could follow his heart beat. She had no idea why she was putting herself in danger for a human who was supposed to be her next meal, she was designed to consume them - not save them. 

She dove deeper and deeper into the lake, the sunlight filtering away, total blackness enveloping her. Though she could not see very well above the water in the sunlight, she could see perfectly in the dark. She did not dare look at the bedrock of the lake, in fear of discovering corpses she did not wish to see. She could see the roiling bubbles ascending to the surface and the immense heat emanating from directly beneath her, she wasted no time in diving again. 

She very quickly discovered the corpse of the beast, resting peacefully in the bedrock, her rider still saddled. She stopped directly in front of him, watching his hands shake as he struggled with the chains. Malicious thoughts slithered into her head; she could feast for ages on both dragon and rider, she would have no need to think about the surface for a long time. It would be so easy, all she had to do was wait for him to drown.

No. He didn’t deserve this, at the very least she could unbind him and send him to the surface, what happened to him beyond that was not her problem. Against her better judgement, she rushed him, shoving his hands away from the ropes around his waist and ripping them away with her nails. He struggled and thrashed in her grip, using all his might to get away from her.

‘Stop struggling! I’m trying to help you!’ She hissed. He ceased his struggling immediately, having become sluggish and slow, the lack of oxygen finally taking its toll on him, leaving him weak and defenceless. Everything in her screamed at her to devour him, to gut him like a fish and swallow him whole.

A helpless groan left her as she threw his arm around her broad shoulders, heaving him up towards the rippling light of the surface. They wouldn’t be looking for his body yet, but she didn’t have long before they would be descending upon them, she’d be damned if she would die for a human. With one final forceful push of her tail, she was able to push his lithe body halfway up on to a secluded bank, her heartbeat thundering in her chest.

He wasn’t breathing. Gods, he wasn’t breathing!

With the last of her strength she threw herself up onto the bank, kneeling beside him; his heartbeat was there, but faint, she needed to work quickly if he was to survive the day. His body felt as though it was made of lead as she dragged him away from the water, the further away they were from the water, the less temptation there was. 

He had taken water into his lungs, which meant she needed to get it out as soon as possible. She opened his mouth, placing her own on his, pulling the water from his lungs mouthful after mouthful, spitting it onto the lush grass. He had other wounds, cuts and scrapes but it was nothing she couldn’t use her magic to heal. With a final mouthful of water, air rushed into his lungs, sending him bolt upright coughing and hacking. 

The movement sent her toppling over into the grass, where he descended upon her, blade against her throat. Her slender taloned fingers spread out across his face, daring to take his other eye. 

“I saved your life, and this is how you repay me? By slitting my throat?” she asked, half daring him to do it, maybe then she would get some peace. His face seemed to shift in that moment, furrowed brows relaxed his clenched jaw loosening. 

“You are right, I am sorry,” He replied, taking the blade from her throat.

The woman in front of him was full of contradictions, she was both dark and light, sharp edges and softness, terrifying and beautiful. She had almost lured him to his death one day and then saved him the very next. She held no fear in her eyes, even as he had held the blade to her throat, her beautiful, supple throat, he shook the thoughts from his head. 

“Stop looking at me like you wish to swallow me whole, and let me heal you,” she bit at him, a gentle push sending him into the plush grass. She struggled with taking his chest plate, the leather straps far too finicky for her liking she took a sharp talon to the supple leather, slicing into it. 

“No, leave me here,” he told her, trying to force her hands away. 

“You will die if I don’t tend to your wounds!” she said through gritted teeth, pulling the chest plate away and straddling him, pinning his arms underneath her legs. Her hand hovered over the gaping wound in his shoulder, a calming blue light emanating from her palm. She watched the wound pull the deep red ichor back into his body, skin stitching itself shut, leaving no trace that there was ever a wound there. 

I’d like to see his witch heal him in such a manner. 

—

They took shelter in a cave deep in the woods outside Harrenhal, out of the sight of prying eyes and away from hands that would do them harm. In the time they had spent in the cave, she had learnt that the Prince's name was Aemond and that he was not one for conversation. 

“I wish I could leave all of this behind,” Aemond whispered, his voice laced with pain and exhaustion. She sat cross legged across from him, a pleasant prickling feeling crawling up her legs from sitting in one place. 

She tilted her head to the side slightly “Why can’t you?” she asked, her brows furrowed.

“I have a duty to my family, it's a matter of honour,” was the silver haired Prince's response, his jaw twitching as his arms came to rest across his broad chest. The dim embers illuminating the way his lip twitched upward as she leant forward, to press him further.

“Your family would rather send you to die than allow you to leave?” She responded, her voice laced with disbelief, she shook her head. It slowly became clear to her about what happened just hours ago, when he demanded she leave him to die. He had wanted that fate, he would have preferred death to failure. 

Aemond pinched the bridge of his nose, his voice taking on an edge “It is about honour, as I said,” his response did not invite any further conversation between them. And for a while there was nothing but the crackle of logs on a fire and the sound of their breaths. 

“Run away with me, it's not safe for either of us here. We can board a ship tonight and be gone by morning,” she offered, they could board a ship for Essos or Yi-Ti and never be found again. She would forsake the waters of her home for him, if it meant that he could live the life he desired. 

“No,” was Aemond's immediate response, face contorting into a scowl. She was beginning to break down the barrier of duty and honour he had surrounded himself with, for without those virtues, what would he become? 

She stood from her perch on a boulder, allowing the silk shoulder cape Aemond had given her to cover herself to slip away. Exposing the mounds and valleys of her body, the scales on her legs and cheekbones catching the firelight. “Come, My Darling. Please just give me your hand,” she cooed into his ear, running her delicate fingers over his shoulder and up the column of his throat, stopping to stroke his jaw. 

And so he did. 

Thank you to my darling @sylasthegrim for beta reading this! And creating the wonderful header/moodboard!

Please reblog my work if you enjoy it! it helps keep fan fiction alive <3

[domoz]

drabble trade with @doveywovy with the prompts "mermaids" and "sharing body heat"

The air hangs still and quiet in the way it only does in the morning after it's just snowed.

Probably, Izuna should be thankful for the unseasonable turn in the weather. The cold has driven witnesses indoors and the usually deadly fauna of the swamp he travels through into hiding. He's never liked weather like this, though. The sharpness of the chill makes his jaw ache, and he finds himself paranoid that somehow his own breath will give him away.

Ice has formed a crust on the sides of his little boat and more forms on his oar every time he lifts it from the water. Soon enough he's going to have to stop and scrape it off, before it makes it awkward to navigate. But he’s hesitant when even the gentle drift of the boat sounds too loud in the silence.

There are rivers and lakes in water country, but not widespread enough to make learning to hide beneath them particularly worth it. Even this swamp is probably only two meters deep in most places -- the canopy of the trees above are so thick that they would make a better hiding spot for nearly anyone looking to ambush him.

That's why he's unprepared for the boat to suddenly be pulled out from underneath him. With the whip-crack speed of a predator springing on its prey, two thick arms hook under his shoulders and pull him backwards. He doesn't fall into the water, but into flesh -- slick and freezing cold.  He tries to pull away, instinctively kicks backwards, but whatever his foot meets is a single solid mass, and all he gets for struggling is flipped onto his back, face forced into the rough wood and freezing cold water that's sloshed over the sides. Even his legs aren't left free as something thick and muscled wraps around them.

Whatever it is that's on top of him isn't human -- but it also isn't trying to kill him, or else it could have done so by now. Instead, one arm -- pale white and scaly when Izuna cranes his neck to see it -- moves to wrap around both of his arms while the other moves to start tearing open his clothes. Icy-cold claws rake down his skin and start going through his pockets, tossing knives and coins and food pills all around the deck of the boat and over the side.

 The thing’s grip has become weaker in the meantime, and Izuna uses the chance to free his right elbow backwards -- it earns him more weight pressed down on him, not less, and an angry hiss.

"What kind of useless human doesn't carry matches?" A deep, accented voice growls out above him, "Or even a flint?"

The only thing that keeps Izuna from responding with 'the kind that can spit fire' is the fact that he can't follow it up with a fireball right in this thing’s face. Which means he has a moment to realize that this thing can speak, and if it can understand him then he has another way to worm his way out of this.

"The warm kind." He answers, as understanding about what's happening clicks into place, "The kind that might help you if you let him up and ask nicely."

He punctuates his point by taking as deep a breath as he can manage in his position and warming it with his chakra as he lets it back out. It turns the air around them into warm steam before it drifts away, and Izuna can feel the muscles wrapped around him clench as the thing hunches over as though trying to capture the heat.

There is a long moment of hesitation, then a sigh through clenched teeth. Weight shifts off of his chest, enough for him to push himself up and turn around, though his legs are still trapped under the bulk of -- yes that's a fish tail.

The creature that's caught him is something out of a peasant fairy tale. Mermaid -- or man, as it were -- the sort of creature that people say lures men to death with its beauty. Izuna supposes he can see where they're coming from -- the physique of the top half is almost improbably perfect -- though the effect is lessened both by the fact that the thing has just mugged him and that he's clearly miserable. The man’s hair and eyelashes are as white as the rest of him but they sparkle with ice, and now that his arms aren't down Izuna's clothes they're crossed over his chest in a hopeless bid to preserve warmth.

"I'll only need you to stay until the cold front is gone." The merman informs him, mouth not quite forming correctly around the words. "Then you can carry on as you please."

Which could be days or even weeks -- plenty of time to find an escape. Or, Izuna blows out another warm breath and stops himself from smirking as the merman can't stop himself from leaning into it, plenty of time to make a new friend.

[abaddonhotelguest]

THE COMPLETE TIMELINE OF HELL HOUSE LLC. (SO FAR)

Many, many, many days of effort into figuring this all out, and now its here! I did this for fun, but figured it might be something others are interested in for either fanfiction purposes or just to get the full story in order! Giving a fair warning that while I did rewatch and take notes on each individual movie and take a few days to get everything figured out, there could be some small mistakes, so I apologize in advance!!

Most dates were given for big events, but other things mentioned briefly I had to put in the relative spot, with some rough estimation. With large chunks of time, I wrote what happened throughout it in order to make it easier!

WARNING: SPOILERS FOR THE HELL HOUSE LLC FRANCHISE!

BETWEEN 1960 AND 1965  (exact dates unknown)

Andrew Tully, a deeply religious man, is living in Arkansas with his family. His young daughter Annabelle dies and Tully begins to wish for a way to bring her back. He leaves Arkansas to avoid a warrant for his arrest, leaving his remaining family behind. 

BETWEEN 1965 AND 1980 (exact dates unknown)

Tully moves to Clarksburg, West Virginia and meets two men, Thomas Rollins and Freddy Perkins, at a booth they run at the local fair. After joining Down-A-Clown, the three become fast friends and they create a cult whose goal is to go to the other side and come back/ enter the lake of fire. 

BETWEEN 1980 AND EARLY 1989 (exact dates unknown)

Tully, Freddy, and Thomas leave Clarksburg, West Virginia and move to Abaddon, Rockland County, New York. They build the hotel and hire locals, like Patrick Carmichael, to work there, recruiting people for their cult. The portal to hell, or Lake of Fire, is in the basement. 

JUNE 18, 1989

Patrick drives his sister Margaret to the city to drop her off for rehearsals for the play Faust. A drunk driver hits them and Margaret is pronounced dead upon arrival. Patrick survives but loses the ability to use his left arm, and he falls into a deep depression.

SEPTEMBER 4, 1989

Patrick is holding items from the Abaddon Hotel in his house, including the music sheet to Cold the Nightfall and the items from Down-A-Clown. He has Margaret’s bloody clothing and the featureless mask she had for her play on his dresser, and asks Catherine “what if someone told you they could bring her back?”  

BETWEEN SEPTEMBER AND OCTOBER 9, 1989 (exact dates unknown)

Guests from the Abaddon Hotel begin to disappear. Tully is questioned numerous times in regards to the disappearance of an 11 year old girl and her mother. Tully provides records stating they checked out, but his business does not recover from the rumors of foul play. He sends a note home to his employees demanding they all show up despite the hotel being closed.

OCTOBER 10, 1989

Tully and the employees of Abaddon Hotel commit suicide in the hotel. Tilly hangs himself in the dining room. Patrick Carmichael is arrested for fighting and brought to jail, missing the mass suicide, which he refers to as ‘crossing over.’ He provides a flipped confession where he states Tully kept photos and videos of what went on in the hotel, and that he kept them in the fridge. When he returns home, he has full use of his arm again. Eleanor and Catherine Carmichael are killed in their beds, and Patrick and Arthur Carmichael go missing. Patrick wears Tully’s clown suit and goes down to the basement of the Abaddon Hotel. 

DECEMBER 25, 1997

Mallet family home video reveals Jackson Mallet playing Cold the Nightfall. He tells his mother “The hotel opens in 2009. Tell everyone.” A deeper, demonic voice is heard in the background saying ‘The Abaddon Hotel.’

SEPTEMBER 28, 2003

The fair in Abaddon, Rockland County happens despite the disappearance of three girls in the last year. Multiple disappearances and injuries from something that came out of the corn field. Margot Bently is almost lured from the fairgrounds by Tully’s clown. 

2002 (exact date unknown)

Hell House LLC is founded by Alex Taylor, Andrew Macnamara, and Sara Havel. Paul O’Keefe and Tony Prescott are hired. 

2008 (exact date unknown)

Russell Wynn, billionaire by 25, is involved in a car crash. He is legally dead for two minutes and then brought back. According to those close to him, Russell was changed by this experience. 

BETWEEN MARCH 1 AND APRIL 2, 2009 (exact date not known)

Alex Taylor and Tully get into contact and Tully convinces Alex to invest in something. The investment, done with the company's money and not his own, goes bad, and he loses everything. 

BETWEEN APRIL 4 - 18, 2009

Tully ignores Alex’s phone calls for two weeks.

APRIL 18, 2009

Alex Taylor visits the Abaddon Hotel and has an angry conversation with Tully, revealing what he did. Tully convinces Alex to hold this year's haunted house in the Abaddon Hotel so he can avoid telling the group about the investment with the promise of going back to the city next year.

BETWEEN APRIL 19 AND AUGUST 22, 2009 (exact date not known)

Alex tells Mac what happened and swears him to secrecy before the group arrives at the diner where he tells them they won’t be hosting Hell House in the city this year. As they leave, Russell Wynn is seen in a booth near them. 

AUGUST 23, 2009 TO OCTOBER 7, 2009

The Hell House group goes through Abaddon for the first time and a week later begin sleeping there. Hell House LLC sets up in the Abaddon Hotel and experience hauntings. Paul is taken and comes back ‘possessed’ after one night. Everyone but Alex experiences a haunting though his notebook reveals his declining mental health due to being in the hotel.

OCTOBER 8, 2009

Opening night of Hell House. 15 people die, numerous injured. 7 bodies never recovered, including some of the Hell House crew. Town officials and police say it was a ‘technical malfunction.’ Alex, Tony, and Paul’s bodies were the only ones found out of the crew. 

OCTOBER 16, 2009

Joey Shefler hangs himself after refusing to talk to police about October 8th. 

BETWEEN NOVEMBER 2009 - DECEMBER 2010 (exact date unknown)

Martin Cliver, a journalist, breaks into the Abaddon Hotel and takes photos and posts them on the internet. Photos of dried blood pools and bloody hand prints throughout the house, including basement steps, prove that it was not a gas leak like the town had been saying. 

2014 (exact date unknown)

Jessica Fox, Molly Reynolds, and David Morris are the people behind THE INSIDE, a blog dedicated to uncovering corruption. In 2014, Jessica breaks a story about kick-backs and pay-to-play deals in the New York State assembly, resulting in many senators going to prison. 

BETWEEN SEPTEMBER - NOVEMBER 2014 (exact date unknown)

Sara Havel, previously missing, reaches out to Diane Graves for an interview. Diane is the director and producer of the documentary ‘Inside Hell House,’ in which she is currently filming. Sara produces the tapes they filmed at the Abaddon, and after answering some questions, tells Diane to meet her at her room, 2C, and convinces her to go to the Abaddon. Diane and her cameraman Jonathan Miller go missing. Mitchell Cavanaugh goes through the Hell House footage and discovers what really happened. 

OCTOBER 6, 2015 

Mitchell releases Hell House LLC to the world. 

BETWEEN OCTOBER 7, 2015 AND OCTOBER 7, 2017 (exact dates unknown)

A teenage boy named Cameron livestreams himself breaking into the Abaddon on Facebook. He sees the legs of a figure (presumably Tully) on the steps. He says “Sorry, I’ll go now,” and then proceeds to livestream until his phone dies, never moving from that position. Police go to find him and find no trace, including his phone. 

MAY 7, 2015

A teenage boy records himself entering the Abaddon Hotel. He captures the voice of Sara Havel.

AUGUST 5, 2016

Jackson Mallet goes missing after breaking into the abandoned Abaddon Hotel. 

SEPTEMBER 20, 2016

A couple, Nate and Adam, pick up a hitch-hiker and bring her to the Abaddon Hotel. They follow her inside and she attacks them in the basement, revealing a demonic face. The girl is believed to be 18-year-old Savannah Collins whose body was never recovered after she was rumored to have hitch-hiked to the opening night of Hell House. 

OCTOBER 8, 2016

Jackson’s mother receives a text from Jacksons phone reading “Come to the Abaddon Hotel. They’re all in the dining room. They have no eyes,” The last sentence is repeated numerous times. Following the text is a video of Jackson Mallet's apparent last moments. He is running through the Abaddon Hotel asking for help as the demon cult members are seen around. He says “They’re all still here. They want me to go with them. They’re all in hell. They’re all with him.” Tully is sending these.

OCTOBER 22, 2016

Jackson Mallet’s mother receives an email of a video. The video is of 2C in the Abaddon Hotel. The room is empty and in the background you can hear muffled screams, presumably Jackson, as well as Cold The Nightfall on piano.

BETWEEN OCTOBER 1-5, 2017

Morning Mysteries, led by Suzy McCombs, is filming a part of the documentary they are making after 8 years. They capture a demon cult member on the balcony. 

OCTOBER 6, 2017

Morning Mysteries interviews Mitchell Cavanaugh, Arnold Tassleman, and Brock Davis and they discuss Hell House. Arnold Tassleman is currently in a legal battle with Mitchell due to his belief Mitchell has caused damage to the town of Abaddon. At the end of the segment, Jessica calls and tells them she has physical proof of Tully’s involvement with the missing guests, Hell House, and the town's involvement. As she hangs up, she says “Mitchell, if you want to know what happened to Diane, come find me.” As the interview ends, an assistant to Morning Mysteries tells Suzy that Arnold Tassleman never actually showed up due to a car accident. 

OCTOBER 7, 2017

Mitchell and THE INSIDE meet and discuss how to get into the Abaddon Hotel, then record at Mitchell’s apartment. Jessica reveals her ‘physical proof’ is a police transcript she was sent in the mail anonymously. It holds Patrick Carmichaels flipped confession, revealing tapes and evidence in the fridge. The group goes to the bar after. Russell Wynn enters the bar as they leave.

OCTOBER 8 - 11, 2017

Mitchell, Jessica, Molly, David, Brock Davies, and his cameraman Malcolm arrive at the Abaddon Hotel. In the basement fridge, they find tapes related to the hotel (‘The Abaddon Hotel: From Construction to Completion,’ ‘Unaired Commercial’) as well as blueprints to the hotel and other tapes. One of said tapes is the meeting between Alex and Tully in April. Tully reveals he has been sending videos (the ones featured in HH2,) to ‘a poor stranger,’ that being Russel Wynn. All 6 remain missing.

OCTOBER 12, 2017

Jessica Fox is found walking down the side of the road in confusion with injuries. Once in the police station, it's revealed she is dead and being used by Tully as a means to lure people to the hotel like Sara Havel. 

BETWEEN 2017 AND 2018 (exact date unknown)

Billy Braddock posts on Facebook about going to the Abaddon Hotel to burn it down and is never heard from again.

BETWEEN AUGUST 1 TO SEPTEMBER 13, 2018 (exact date unknown)

Russel Wynn buys the Abaddon Hotel and saves it from being torn down. He moves his New York City based live-theater trope ‘Insomnia’ to the hotel to perform a version of Faust. Vanessa Shepard, the new host of Morning Mysteries, is invited and given full access to the set of Insomnia for behind the scenes filming and interviews with the cast and crew. Russell wants her to record the process up to opening night. 

SEPTEMBER 13 TO OCTOBER 2, 2018 

Insomnia prepares for opening night October 1st. After a confrontation with Father Paulis, Vanessa learns that at midnight Russell Wynn will be liquidating his assets and having him disperse it into various charities. The gateway is opened and then destroyed by Russell and the Abaddon Hotel burns to the ground, leaving a few smoldering remains. Russell was able to close the portal due to his brief death in 2008. All tour goers and members of Insomnia were found in the corn field behind the hotel safe and confused. Those who died in the hotel before that night are stuck there but in purgatory. Russel’s hotel room is revealed to have dozens of hours of footage regarding the hotel, including what happened to the previous Morning Mysteries group. 

BETWEEN OCTOBER 3, 2018 TO NOVEMBER 2021 (exact dates unknown)

A local antique shop takes in some items that survived the fire (including the grandfather clock) and puts them up for sale. The Documentary of HH2 is released. Margot Bentley and Bradley Moynahan create the website NetSleuths.com, a place for amateur detectives to work and solve cases with a focus on unsolved/cold cases. Margot and her girlfriend Rebecca often go and stay at the places she is investigating, and she records everything. She gets into contact with Donald and secures 5 nights at the Carmichael Manor. Margot’s mother calls her and tells her that her brother, Chase, has been missing for two days. Despite taking his medication, Chase see’s a disappearing and reappearing 11-year-old girl asking him to help her find her mom and that they’re staying at a hotel. The girl tells Chase to ‘Go with Margot.’ The next day, Margot invites Chase to Carmichael Manor. 

NOVEMBER 6 - 11, 2021

Margot, Rebecca, and Chase stay at the Carmichael Manor. They find a connection between the house and the Abaddon Hotel via the antique shop. Chase goes missing, and on November 11, 2021 at 2 am, Rebecca and Margot are killed in the manor. 

BETWEEN DECEMBER 2021 TO MARCH 2022 (exact date unknown)

The Rockland County officials reveal they are planning on reopening the fair now that the Abaddon Hotel is destroyed.

[ninja-muse]

At last, a month where I feel like I read enough! The trick, clearly, was to pick up graphic novels and other very short things. Will this trend continue in November? Almost certainly not.

Followers might have seen my review for The Dollmakers by Lynn Buchanan last week but that's not actually my top read of the month. That honour goes to Jane Austen's Bookshelf by Rebecca Romney, which I got as an ARC from work, told myself I wouldn't read just yet, then promptly picked up after The Dollmakers and all but burned through. It's about the female authors we know Austen read and why they were bestsellers in their day but are barely known now, with all sorts of publishing and book industry history thrown in, along with a dose of memoir. Needless to say, I was the target audience and I've added a good handful of classics to my TBR. (It's out in February, in case you're interested.)

The rest of my top reads are there for just being solidly good. The Disappearing Spoon gave me all the fun science history I wanted. The Angel of Indian Lake gave me a good horror trilogy ending. The Tropic of Serpents gave me more Lady Trent adventures. And so on. I only really had two misses: The Aeronaut's Windlass, which felt very by-the-books epic fantasy without pushing boundaries, and Wordhunter, which I'm actively recommending people don't read. It was utterly average and kind of trying too hard to be edgy, and then it needlessly introduced sexual violence against women and children and handled both badly. How a book that lets a pedophile off with a warning got published in 2024, I will never understand.

In happier news, my book haul! Two books this month: Sorcery and Small Magics, sent by the publisher, and another volume of The Unwritten, meaning I only need to find one and I've got the full run. Hurray! (If you ever spot Vol. 9, folks, lemme know.)

All that reading means that I haven't done much writing. I need to get back to that, but at least I know what was blocking me and am working to rectify the situation. I am, however, starting to get seriously envious of authors who were able to write during the pandemic and are now getting those novels published. I stopped writing entirely for a year and a half, for various reasons, and now I feel like I've fallen behind.

Someday I might return to the Not-Quite-Urban Fantasy but I'm still too raw to handle the edits even now.

Oh, the worlds of might-have-been!

And now I've gone and left this on a down note. There'll be more positivity next month, I promise. In the meantime, here’s my list of everything I read this month, in the rough order of how glad I was to have read them.

Jane Austen’s Bookshelf - Rebecca Romney

A rare book dealer explores the literary histories of Austen’s favourite female authors, and how they didn’t make the English canon the way Austen did. Out in February.

8/10

reading copy

The Disappearing Spoon - Sam Kean

An entertaining history of chemistry, atomic physics, and the elements of the periodic table.

8/10

library ebook

The Tropic of Serpents - Marie Brennan

Isabella Camherst travels south to Bayembe to study savannah dragons, but finds herself caught in politics and sent on a mission to the swamp of Mouleen.

7.5/10

African-coded secondary characters, 🏳️‍🌈 secondary character (asexual)

library book

The Dollmakers - Lynn Buchanan

When Shean of Pearl receives, and refuses, an artisan dollmaker license, she sets off for a remote village to prove she and her dolls have what it takes to be guards against the Shod. If this means luring the monsters in, so be it.

7.5/10

reading copy

The Angel of Indian Lake - Stephen Graham Jones

Jade Daniels, now Proofrock’s history teacher, has put slasher cycles behind her. Except it’s looking like another one’s started anyway.

7.5/10

Blackfoot protagonist, 🏳️‍🌈 protagonist (sapphic), Black secondary characters

warning: blood, gore, death, murder

reading copy

Reluctant Immortals - Gwendolyn Kiste

Lucy Westrena and Bee Rochester are trying to get through the days in 1967 LA when their exes return in San Fransisco.

7/10

🏳️‍🌈 secondary characters (sapphic), Jamaican-British secondary character

warning: abusive relationships

reading copy

Bury Your Gays - Chuck Tingle

After Misha refuses to kill off his queer leads for the season finale, he finds himself stalked by horror villains he created.

7/10

🏳️‍🌈 protagonist (gay), 🏳️‍🌈 secondary characters (bi, aroace), 🏳️‍🌈 author

warning: death, murder, torture, homophobia, child abuse

library book

Ms. Marvel, Vol. 7 - G. Willow Wilson with Mirka Andolfo (Illustrator), Takeshi Miyazawa (Illustrator)

Kamala Khan faces two difficult foes: gerrymandering and a sentient computer virus.

6.5/10

Pakistani-American protagonist, Muslim protagonist, Pakistani-American secondary characters, Muslim secondary characters, 🏳️‍🌈 secondary character (sapphic), Black secondary character, secondary character with limb damage and a cane, Muslim author

warning: outing

off my TBR

Paladin’s Grace - T. Kingfisher

Stephen is a paladin whose god has died. Grace is a perfumer trying to keep her past buried. Witnesses to a failed assassination, they now must work together to navigate a world of intrigue, poisoners, and zealots. It’s a good thing they like each other.

6.5/10

off my TBR/ebook

Plain Jane and the Mermaid - Vera Brosgol

When Jane’s potential fiancé is kidnapped by a mermaid, she descends into the depths to rescue him even though she can never hope to compete with true waifish beauty.

7.5/10

warning: body shaming

library book

Sorcery and Small Magics - Maiga Doocy

Leovander Loveage and Sebastian Grimm get along like oil and water—which makes it all the worse when Leo's hit with an illegal curse and they must work together to break it.

6.8/10

🏳️‍🌈 protagonist (achillean), 🏳️‍🌈 secondary character (achillean), 🏳️‍🌈 minor character (ungendered), minor character with dark skin, minor character who uses a cane

gifted by publisher

Dictionary of Fine Distinctions - Eli Bernstein

Illuminating and illustrated definitions of commonly confused words.

7/10

library book

Days at the Morisaki Bookshop - Satoshi Yagisawa

When Takako finds herself adrift in life, she accepts a room in her estranged uncle’s bookshop.

7/10

Japanese cast, Japanese author

library book

Wordhunter - Stella Sands

A spiky forensic linguistics student is tapped by her local PD to help find a kidnapped teen, but that brings up a missing person’s case from her own past. Too close, too soon.

2/10

Black secondary character

warning: drug use, alcohol abuse, rape and an odd attitude towards its aftermath, pedophiles given a pass

library book

Picture books

All the Books - Hayley Rocco

Piper loves books so much she takes her whole collection everywhere, but when her wagons tip over in the rain she discovers … the library!

9/10

DNF

The Aeronaut’s Windlass - Jim Butcher

The cold war between Spires Albion and Aurora is heating up, and something uncanny is showing itself. Caught in it all are Captain Grimm, late of the Predator, a handful of trainee guards, and a prince of cats.

library ebook

Currently reading

The Price of the Stars - Debra Doyle and James D. MacDonald

When Beka’s politician mother is assassinated, her father gives her his warship in exchange for her tracking the assassins down. But when someone has it in for your family, sometimes one must take drastic measures.

off my TBR

The Empress Letters - Linda Rogers

A mother in the 1920s writes her life story in a series of letters to the daughter she’s searching for in China.

🇨🇦, Chinese secondary characters

warning: fetal remains, anti-Chinese racism

off my TBR

Music from the Earliest Notations to the Sixteenth Century - Richard Taruskin A history of early written European music, in its social and political contexts.

The Penguin Complete Sherlock Holmes - Arthur Conan Doyle Victorian detective stories

disabled POV character (limb injury), occasional Indian secondary characters

warning: racism, colonialism

Monthly total: 14 + 1 Yearly total: 106 Queer books: 3 Authors of colour: 2 Books by women: 9 Authors outside the binary: 0 Canadian authors: 0 Classics: 0 Off the TBR shelves: 3 Books hauled: 2 ARCs acquired: 3 ARCs unhauled: 4 DNFs: 1

January February March April May June July August September

[anarchy-and-piglins]

The water reflects beautifully off the lake when dusk hits.

Techno knows why they forbid him from coming here. Deceiving as it can be, the darkness of the water hides its true intentions. And the pale yellow eyes that peer back from its depths too.

"Are you willing to take my deal now?"

"Nope." Techno laughs at Quackity's annoyed scowl. Pupils narrowed, he would be intimidating to most humans. Techno should know better than to play with fire. The tree hollow he returns to each night proves he's too stubborn when it comes to ignoring the warnings of magic.

But also, Quackity looks like Techno could break him in half like a twig if need be. So sue him for not being very afraid.

"You're such a dick," Quackity hisses. His body is pulled up from the water to settle on a rock, legs dangling off idly. He pushes the hair out of his face, wetly clinging to his skin. "Do you like torturing me, is that it?"

"Not particularly," Techno says with a shrug.

"Then tell me what it would take to convince you?"

There's so much about Quackity that betrays his inhuman nature it. The sharpness of his fangs catches the light and his claws pick at the rock. Techno just is smart enough to stay a good three feet away from the edge of the water so the nixie can't drag him in.

"If you could stop bringing me here that'd be great," Techno says. "I'm just trying to take an evening stroll, man."

"It's in my nature," Quackity says flippantly while waving him away. "Asking me not to lure in humans is like asking the seasons to stop changing."

"Quackity!"

At the sound of Wilbur's voice, the man quickly ducks back into the water. Techno watches the ripples in the lake, feeling some kind of relief. As if something was pressing down on his chest without him noticing.

"Techno, are you okay?" Wilbur grabs his wrist. It makes him want to flinch away on instinct, but he can't.

Unlike with Quackity, Techno already messed up with this guy. Staying away from magic used to be a bigger issue for Techno and he's paying the price every single day.

"Peachy," he deadpans. "Why would you think otherwise?"

"Because you kind of have a tendency to get thralled," Wilbur tells him. His grin is so self-indulgent, Techno wishes he could slap it off his face really.

"Oh, I wasn't going to claim him." Quackity rolls his eyes at them from where they're peeking out a few inches above the water.

"Tell that to all the other shit you stole from me," Wilbur snarls back. "This is not one of our little contests, Quackity."

"Sure, Wilbur, we'll see about that." The nixie raises his hand above the water to wave. "See ya later, Techno."

Techno waves back until Wilbur drags his arm down, irritated. "This is why you got kidnapped by fae in the first place," he tells Techno.

"Actually I'm pretty sure I got kidnapped because you tricked me into accepting a gift."

"Who takes a potato from a stranger?"

“I’m appealed you’d even have to ask.”

Techno laughs all the way through Wilbur grumbling as he drags him back to his ‘family’. Say what you will, being condemned to living with fae has never been boring.

[captain-mj]

I JUST READ THE BOY FIC AND OMG YOU SHOULD TOTALLY MAKE LIKE A HORROR CAMP RELATED ONE. like a rlly sweet one like they could be camp counselors yk?? <333 or just like camp counselors?

Hell yeah! I'd love to! So there's this webcomic where Jason Voorhees becomes a camp counselor made by Janie Lee and I took a little inspiration with the general vibe. 10/10 recommend that series because it's amazing. Mentions of trauma for several characters but it's not taking seriously

So it's hopefully clear but I know I can be a little subtle with subtext, so each of the characters are loosely based on a horror villain. It'll be fun to see if you guys can figure it out!

Ghost pulled the third kid out of the lake that day, silently patting their back to help them get all of the water.

"You alright?"

They nodded and coughed up a little more water before settling down. "Thank you so much, Ghost sir!"

Ghost patted their head and watched them run off to their friends. He looked around and saw Alejandro and Rudy talking. They were talking to each and clearly not watching the damn kids.

He waved and they waved back and he flipped them off.

Alejandro grinned. His perfect hair and perfect teeth.

He got on Ghost's nerves.

Especially because Alejandro was the person to wake them up every morning.

They shared a cabin with Alex and by all accounts, they were all early risers, but Alejandro was different.

This morning, and every morning, he woke them up at 4:30 in the morning as he took a shower, iced (what even is that? Is it like an ice bath? Icing a cake?) his face, and then used tons of product in his hair to define each curl.

Ghost and Alex made a deal to kill him every morning after being dragged out of their private rooms. 

Alejandro had laughed and pulled them out of bed to fucking exercise. They'd do fucking pushups and planks and Alex would always use his missing leg as an excuse to get out of squats. Ghost would glare at him and grumpily continue to do whatever he had been challenged to do. He almost always beat Alejandro which surprisingly never made the man angry. Alejandro would just smile and say he’d beat him next time. 

Once he made breakfast, Alex and Ghost would change their mind about killing him. Alex was the only one that drank coffee, Ghost preferred tea, but the smell was nice and inviting enough. It reminded him of being home, but in a good way. 

Then they’d get everyone up at 8 am sharp and they’d handle the kiddos. 

Ghost liked kids just fine. Honestly they were a bit annoying but he didn’t want anyone to get hurt and other people didn’t really seem interested in watching them so he did it. He put on his mask every morning and acted like a human being for a few hours until the kiddos went to bed and the other counselors would buddy up and talk to each other like friends. 

Being friends with your coworkers? That was loser behavior. 

Ghost ignored that his only friend was his little brother. 

Gaz talked about the podcast he was listening to with Ghost. Well. More talked at Ghost as he didn’t really contribute. 

“Doesn’t it feel… manipulative? Listening to these people talk about these murders.”

Gaz shrugged. “Maybe. But it’s… interesting.”

“In a ‘you want to do something similar’ or ‘gets you off’ way?”

Gaz laughed. “No. Just… how they are you know? How they get caught. The small mistakes. The way they could so cruelly kill those people. It’s just… Don’t know. It’s horrific but addicting.”

Ghost didn’t understand but nodded all the same. 

Sometimes, he thought it would be nice to sit with them. The fire looked nice at least. 

Alex knew exactly how to toast marshmallows. He had this secret technique to get them just right to be smushed but not enough for it to taste burnt. It was how he lured Ghost to them, using s’mores as a form of bait. 

Ghost ate one, perched on a log, prepared to sprint. 

“Riley, we’re going to be working together all summer, man. You can relax around us.” Gaz said with a smile. “You might even like us!”

Ghost grimaced and pulled his mask back down. “Doubtful. I don’t do friends. And I prefer Ghost.”

Soap smiled and lightly tapped his foot against the log Ghost was perched on. “I see. Well, Ghost. What’s with the mask?”

Ghost shrugged. “I just… like wearing it.”

“That’s an understatement. You came out of your room wearing it. Is it like Roach? Got scars under there?” Alejandro asked, arm around Rodolfo who looked less than amused by the whole situation. 

Roach hit Alejandro and checked that his mask was on properly. According to what Ghost had heard, he had some rather severe burns. Poor guy. He had some gorgeous brown eyes and tons of fluffy blond hair that could be seen over the mask. Alejandro clearly didn’t strike a nerve, which was good, but he didn’t look very happy. 

Ghost slowly waved before signing. “What’s another name for a sleeping bag?”

Roach tilted his head questioningly. No one else seemed to know what Ghost was signing, though they watched his hands. 

“A nap sack.” 

Roach laughed. And so did Soap. 

Ghost glanced at him, watching him cover his mouth. Soap looked away. 

He then stretched and took another s’more from Alex. He had undone part of his shirt that exposed his chest a little. It made Ghost’s stomach feel funny. 

Gaz smiled. “Let’s play truth or dare. No gross stuff though. Keep it PG-13.”

Ghost reluctantly relaxed. “Okay. Sure.” He’d pick all dares. Easy.

They started up.

He learned quickly that picking dares was not a good idea when Alejandro had Alex slip his shirt off. They all looked at him. There was some scarring along his stomach from a fire that had raged. 

Weird how many slashers had brushes with fire. 

But he was fit and rather hot. Ghost glanced away and realized there was no universe where he could so easily strip himself of his clothing. His body had scars, but it was nothing like Alex who had lost his brother to one or Roach whose school had burned down with almost everyone in it. 

No. No one died in the events that scarred Ghost. And he knew if they looked at him, they’d immediately realize they were purposefully inflicted by both Ghost and others. It wasn’t something he wanted anybody to know about. So he had to make a decision. 

“Ghost.” Soap smiled. “Truth or Dare?”

“Truth.” 

“What’s the farthest you’ve ever gone with someone?” 

Ghost froze, staring. “That’s not PG-13.”

“Oh, so you’ve had sex?” Gaz pointed out, the pretense of being clean gone. 

Ghost hesitated just long enough for them to pounce. 

“You’re a virgin??” Alejandro asked, almost scandalized at the thought. “You’re 6’4, built and mysterious as hell. How are you fucking that up?”

“Uh…”

Alex defended him. “Maybe he’s just shy!”

Soap translated for Roach. “Or saving himself for marriage. Gary, personally I don’t think that’s it.”

Ghost stood up. “I’ll be leaving now.”

Rodolfo hummed. “Is it religious? Or just never found the opportunity?”

“I’ve already answered my question.”

Soap tsked. “Actually, you haven’t. You just said it’s not PG-13. So… until you answer the question, we can ask whatever we want.”

Gaz nodded. “Those are the rules.”

Ghost squirmed. “We counting nonconsensually?”

That ruined the vibe really fast.

“Oh!” Soap covered his mouth, looking horrified. “I’m so sorry.” 

Ghost shrugged. “If it’s just consensual, I held hands. Once.” 

Roach planted his head in his hands, shaking his head. 

Somehow, Alejandro and Gaz got the game going again. Ghost picked dares after that and they all had the politeness to not make him or Roach do anything salacious. Sometimes, they’d ask Roach or dare him to do something dirty and he’d grab his cross and freeze. He always did it, letting Soap translate for him so everyone could understand him. 

As the night started to wind down, Roach ended up next to Ghost, both of them on the same log. Soap was doing something with the other guys and they both noticed the other person glancing at him. They quickly looked away again. 

Ghost had never felt uncomfortable with his sexuality. He liked men. Simple as that. But attraction was not something he liked acknowledging. Some people were attractive and it made Ghost nervous and sometimes he did find himself wishing for easy camaraderie and beautiful blues eyes to be…

Oh yikes. 

He was imagining Soap. 

Ghost was glad it was one of the single guys so he didn’t feel like an ass but it had to be that one?? 

Roach glanced at him and looked flustered. “I don’t really get the big deal either.”

Ghost nodded and tried to look stoic. He felt flustered and anxious though. His mask luckily kept him looking fine. “I just think there’s better things we can be doing. Like our jobs.”

Roach smiled. Ghost could tell by the way his eyes crinkled. “Yeah. Exactly.” 

They started to talk and Ghost found he was easy conversation. Before long, it reached midnight and as much as everyone would’ve loved staying up, they did have work in the morning. 

Alejandro and Alex walked on either side of Ghost. 

“By non-consensual…”

“Alex, I’ll rip your head from your fucking body.”

“Nevermind.”

[after-witch]

 Little Purchase [Yandere Jouno x Reader]

Title: Little Purchase [Yandere Jouno x Reader]

Synopsis: You got far away from Jouno. But not far enough to escape from him.

Word count: 2007

notes: yandere, kidnapped reader, NSFW noncon sex & kissing

The city you’ve found yourself in is unfamiliar, but that’s a good thing, isn’t it? It means that Jouno is far less likely to find you here.

Because it’s not somewhere you ought to run to for help. By all rights,  you should have gone back to your home town, or even one of the major cities, where you could either beg for help from family or get lost in the crowds upon crowds lining the streets. 

But those were the safe options. 

You didn’t have the luxury of safe options anymore.

It was a miracle you even made it out the door, and you attribute that miracle to weeks of meticulous planning and good behavior. Just enough that Jouno let down his guard around you, but not so much that he would think you were behaving suspiciously. If you were too sweet, too submissive, well… he’d know you were pretending. So instead, you were begrudging. Soft, but not entirely without bite. He seemed to like that, if anything, and that’s how you got the opportunity to escape.

And escape you did. It’s been 2 weeks and you’ve made it this far, heart pounding all the while, only sleeping when you knew the buses and trains weren’t going to be making any stops. (Because every stop--any stop--meant he might just get on board.) 

Now, though… you can finally take a rest. Calm down. Relax. Bring your heart rate back to something normal and close your eyes without worrying that he’ll be there when you open them. 

You deserve that much.

That’s why you picked this particular spot, a park overlooking a bridge. There’s a pretty lake, and even some swans (they might be ducks) floating around on the water, creating little trails in their wake. You aren’t even bothered by the occasional bee that finds its way toward you, no doubt lured in by the smell of your lunch.

It would have bothered you, before, to steal money for food. But you weren’t on the run then. You didn’t know what it meant to survive. Now you do, and you thought nothing of the money you lifted from the pockets of a woman on the street. She would be fine. You, on the other hand, were practically starving.

Sitting on the bench with your lunch in your lap, sandwich half eaten, drink cup by your side, you wonder if you should settle down in this city. It’s nice. It’s big enough to get lost in, and not so small that people would get to know you. Perfect for hiding. But then--maybe you will need to get farther than this. Just in case. Maybe switch countries? 

You chew on the thought, literally, as you take another bite of your sandwich. People walk by you, some clearly enjoying the scenery of the park as well. A couple holding hands. A mother with a toddler in tow. 

Someone is sitting next to you. They weren’t there before. You didn’t see anyone approach, or even hear footsteps.

Well.

It takes you a moment.

Too long. 

By the time you realize that it’s Jouno, there’s nothing you can do but sit, muscles feeling like they’ve turned to lead, as his white-gloved hand gently pulls the sandwich away from your hands and sets it aside.

His hand returns, fingers entwining with your own, and bile rises from your stomach.

Could you scream? Would anyone intervene? Would it even help, if they did? 

“This fresh air is nice,” he says, voice as airy as the breeze around you. “Maybe in a while…” And his hand tightens painfully on yours for a fraction of a second, emphasizing something you don’t want to think about: what’s going to happen when  you get back. “We could sit outside together.” He pauses, and you see him frowning. “But not for a while. You’ve been bad, haven’t you? Silly thing. We’ll have to get you home.”

He stands up, and you do too, like a puppet being pulled on a string.

The word hits you, delayed and heavy.

Home. 

The thought seems to release your muscles and a primal urge to get away floods all your senses. “No,” you say, voice choked with fear and anger mingled. “No!” 

His grip tightens again, painful and strict. You tug and struggle--a few people glance, you can see them, see that flash of concern. But you know in an instant that nothing they do will get you away from him now.  Your heart races against the uselessness of everyone around you--the uselessness of yourself. 

He pulls you close to him, a lover’s embrace. He doesn’t seem to mind that you struggle as he leans forward, resting his nose against your hair. “You’re so weak. It’s sweet.” He pulls away and a gloved finger on his free hand finds your chin, tickling it before his fingers grip it hard and pull you in for a kiss. 

You don’t want it. It makes you feel sick. You keep your lips pressed tight, but that only gives him a reason to nip at them. 

Why are tears always salty?

--

“I can tie your wrists to the bed, if you want.” 

Absurdly, you know he can tell that you’re pouting even if he can’t see you. It takes the punch out of your expression, and even that, he seems to sense. He chuckles and finishes stripping your clothes off, having already prepared himself before he got on the bed.

“No? You’re being agreeable, then?” You don’t want to be--but you’re here, aren’t you? In a compound he makes you call home, on his bed, underneath his naked body and forced to be naked yourself. 

He leans down and presses a soft kiss to your forehead. Hair tickles your cheeks. “Do me a favor, dove.” His hands trace down your bare shoulders, making them hunch up in discomfort. “Put your arms around my shoulders. 

“What?” Your eyebrows furrow. You’re used to him touching you. Used to the kisses and the harsh grips, the unwanted strokes and teasing. But he’s never made you touch him before. Not like this. 

Jouno tilts his head ever so slightly, and smiles. “Ah, maybe we need to get your hearing checked.”

It’s a terrible joke.

His face is impassive, and his smile settles into something like a frown. “I don’t like to wait.”

You raise your arms, and they tremble even as you settle your hands on his shoulders.

And then that smile is back, smooth and condescending and horrible. “Good girl. Keep them there, okay? I know you can do it.”

You hate him. You hate this.

You hate it, hate it, hate it--even as the feeling of his bare fingers pulling your legs apart makes you clench in anticipation. Even as you bite back a sigh when his fingers begin to stroke you in an all-too-familiar way that gets you wetter than  you would ever admit. You don’t come, he never lets you come as easily as this, but your eyes shut against the little sparks of pleasure. 

Anxiety-numbed fingers curl on his shoulders when he hums, a sound that you know means he’s deemed you ready to be fucked. You’re surprised, in some way, that he even bothered with this--since it was meant to be a punishment, wasn’t it, when he pulled you directly into the bedroom and began taking off his clothes?

He brings a finger to his lips, and you watch with a sickened fascination as he laps at the wetness there. 

And then he pushes himself inside you, fast, hard. And you’re almost grateful for the way he’s forced your hands onto his shoulders, because it gives you something to brace against--him--as he begins to thrust at a faster, harder pace than usual.

It feels more for power than pleasure, a reminder of what you are (beneath him) and who you are (his) than anything else. The fact that you keep your fingers on his shoulders, not daring to pull them away--not wanting to, in some measure, because you’ll lose some of the physical purchase it gives you--only makes it sink in more bitterly.

One of his hands begins to finger your clit again, and you gasp, only for the gasp to be swallowed by his mouth in a sudden kiss. You whimper against him, some guttural sound that he keeps all for himself, his tongue directing any noises you might make with its touch against your own.

When he pulls away, you turn your head, wanting to get away. But he brings a hand up to your chin with ease and grips it. 

“I want to taste you,” he whispers, breath warm against your cheek. “So let me.” 

Your lip curls in distaste and disgust, but you can’t get away from him. Not from his fingers on your chin, not from his cock inside you, not from this strength keeping you literally and metaphorically pinned to the bed.

The hand on your clit begins to speed up, and you hate that he’s so familiar with your body that he knows just how to stimulate you just right, just so that it’s not overwhelming as the bundle of nerves begins to tingle and throw and build.

Your fingers curl hard against his skin, and you dimly wonder if he’ll bleed, as you come around his cock. 

A moaning sob bubbles out of your lips just as he kisses you, and he smiles against it. Like he knows, like he just fucking knows what is happening inside the turmoil of your mind. And he likes it.

He made you come. You hate him. You hate this. But he made you come, anyway, and your pussy is clenching around him like it wants him there and you can’t do a damn thing about it. 

He speeds up on his thrusts, and the familiar sensation of his hardened cock is punctuated by the deepness of his movements that make you gasp in ragged, timed breaths. It makes you feel stupid. It makes you feel weak.

And he knows it all, and takes it in eagerly, pressing his cheek against yours and nuzzling your face as he stiffens and comes inside you. The warm fluid makes you feel gross and sticky even before he pulls out, leaving you to feel the warmth of it dripping out of your hole.

There is one thing, as you stare up at him, that you can take pleasure in. A few beads of sweat on his forehead. Sweat--it’s the only thing that makes you remember that he’s a human being, underneath all this. Under his abilities, under his strength, under his capture and keeping of you.

He maneuvers himself until he’s laying down next to you, your arms still on his shoulders. 

“You ran away, and I brought you back.” The words are like poison dripped into your ear, and you squirm. But of course, you aren’t going anywhere. “You struggled, but I forced you back with no trouble at all.” Your wrists feel the ghost of his grip, the way he easily subdued you, just like always. 

The building bitterness finally spills out of your lips. “Stop.” The words stick to the roof of your mouth. 

How can he sound so sweet and horrible, all at the same time? 

His fingers dance up your arm, casual and teasing, ignoring your pointless outburst. 

“You got wet from my fingers. You came around my cock. You moaned so sweetly into my mouth.”

You shake your head, stupidly, but you can’t deny what happened. You just want him to stop saying it, stop reminding you. 

He wraps his arms around your waist and pulls you in closer. His body is warm, and you can’t escape the instinctual, biological urge to lean into it. 

“How does that make you feel?” He pauses, and smiles. “No,  you don’t have to tell me.” His hair is soft against your chest as he rests his head against it, cuddling you in a way that makes you hate him but yourself more. 

Because it feels nice, in some way, to be held.

It feels nice, in some way, to be known. 

And Jouno is the only one who will ever know you like this again.

“I already know.”

[doumadono]

Warnings: manipulation, rusalka!Toga, fem!Reader

Summary: on Halloween night, you and your friends venture to a lake near a quaint village, determined to debunk the rusalka legend as mere folklore. Little do you know, the eerie creature is far more real than you could ever imagine.

Word count: circa 2.3k

A/N: this story is my final offering in the collection by a talented @candycandy00 I hope you enjoy this brief horror tale

The autumn night was heavy with an eerie stillness, a prelude to Halloween, the night she chose to haunt the living. Himiko Toga, the rusalka, lurked in the shadows of a murky lake. Her long, light hair draped over her waterlogged form, and her beautiful but otherworldly allure concealed a malevolent intent.

In a nearby village, the locals spoke of the legend of the rusalka, a vengeful water spirit who lured unsuspecting souls to their watery graves. Children dared one another to approach the lake after nightfall, and the bravest among them claimed to have heard a hauntingly beautiful, yet chilling melody that resonated from its depths.

Nestled within the heart of a dense, ancient forest, the village lay hidden from the bustling world. Surrounded by towering trees and a sea of vibrant green, it was a place of solitude and tranquility. The thick woods enveloped the village in a natural embrace, concealing its existence like a well-kept secret.

For the villagers, life here was a world unto itself, a haven of simplicity and the quiet rustling of leaves. It was a place where the daily rhythms of life were dictated by the seasons and the cycles of nature.

The journey through the dense woods was a challenge, and the village remained untouched by the hurried footsteps of those from the more populated areas. This isolation was both a blessing and a curse, preserving the village's unique way of life while also keeping it sheltered from the outside world.

On this particular Halloween night, a group of adventurous teenagers from one of the surrounding towns gathered by the lake, their laughter masking the fear that lingered in the back of their minds. Among them were you, a curious and bold young woman. You'd heard the legends but believed them to be mere stories to spook the timid. "I don't get what all the fuss is about," you said, you voice tinged with skepticism. "It's just a lake, and there's no such thing as a rusalka. Not to mention those people live like they would be stuck in some ancient times. That's sick!"

Your friends exchanged uneasy glances. "You're brave, Y/N, but be careful. Some say they've heard a song coming from the water," one of them warned. "I came across an old article while browsing Google," the guy mentioned, "and it mentioned something quite unsettling. It seems that a significant number of people, particularly young boys and girls, have mysteriously disappeared in this place."

You waved it off, unfazed. "I'll prove to you all that there's nothing to be afraid of."

"Come on, seriously?" one of your female friends laughed heartily. "You don't actually expect us to believe in all that internet nonsense, do you, Tom? Witches, rusalkas, and all those creepy tales are just meant to spook the kids, nothing more."

As you approached the edge of the lake, you felt a sudden chill in the air. The night grew darker, and the surface of the water seemed to ripple with a sinister presence. You shivered but continued to move closer. With unwavering determination, you set out to debunk the local legend of the rusalka that had been perpetuated by the villagers. You firmly believed that this eerie tale was nothing more than a concoction, a clever ruse to send shivers down the spines of curious tourists and entice them to leave their money in this quaint, remote place.

Just as you reached the water's edge, a hauntingly beautiful melody began to drift through the night, captivating your senses. The notes were hypnotic, pulling at the very core of your being.

Toga's ghostly figure emerged from the depths, her eyes fixed on you. "Come closer, my dear," she whispered, her voice like a siren's call. "I have something to show you," she sung, playing with her long, blonde hair. Her flowing hair cascaded like shimmering waterfalls. Her eyes, large and alluring, seemed to hold secrets of untold depths, their color an enigmatic shade of yellow, reminiscent of golden sunlit waters. Her complexion was porcelain fair. As a rusalka, she moved with an otherworldly grace, her every motion reminiscent of water's gentle caress.

"Holy shit! Do you see that?!" Tom's exclamation pierced the air, his eyes wide with astonishment.

The rest of your friends were quick to react, their expressions mirroring his shock. Startled whispers filled the air as they instinctively began to move away from the lake shore, creating a small, anxious cluster.

"Come on, let's go, Y/N!" one of your friends called out urgently, waving for you to join them.

"Retreat, guys! This is getting too weird!" another one urged as well.

But it was as though their voices had faded into the distance, a mere murmur in the background, as you continued to draw nearer and nearer to the mysterious entity emerging from the shadowy waters. Its silent beckoning seemed to compel you, a magnetic force pulling you closer with every step.

Your friends watched in horror as you stepped into the lake, your movements guided by the rusalka's eerie song. You waded deeper into the water, your face bearing a tranquil expression that sent shivers down their spines.

As Halloween night deepened, the legends of the rusalka proved all too real for you and your friends. Himiko Toga's vengeful spirit had claimed another soul, and her haunting melody echoed through the chilling darkness. Himiko led you further into the murky waters. As you moved deeper, the moonlight cast an eerie glow upon the lake's surface, creating an unsettling spectacle. The world above seemed to fade away as you became ensnared by the enchanting melody.

With each word, her allure seemed to grow, wrapping you in a cocoon of her seductive timbre. The world around you began to blur and fade into obscurity, as though her voice held the power to transport you to another realm. As she spoke, your attention shifted solely to her, her words becoming the only reality that mattered. Nothing else held significance; her voice was your anchor and your universe, a hypnotic cadence that pulled you deeper into its spell.

The rusalka's voice was both beautiful and melancholic. It whispered secrets of the underwater world, of long-forgotten loves and tragedies that had unfolded beneath the waves. Your thoughts and fears were replaced by a sense of tranquility, your will utterly dominated by the rusalka's spell.

Himiko leaned in, her yellowish eyes locked onto yours with an intensity that sent a shiver down your spine. Her voice was a sultry, almost hypnotic purr as she spoke, "You know, becoming one with me, it's going to be… exquisite. All I need is just a tiny, little taste of your blood."

You couldn't help but feel a mixture of curiosity and trepidation, "What do you mean?"

A sly grin curved her lips as she explained, "Well, it's quite simple, really, my sweet darling! Just a drop of your blood, a mere morsel of your essence, and we'll be forever connected. Our desires, our pleasures, they'll meld into a tantalizing dance of passion."

Your heart raced, the air suddenly charged with anticipation, as you asked, "And how does that work, exactly?"

She moved even closer, her breath warm against your skin, "Oh, darling, it's a secret spell only we can share. But trust me, it'll be the most electrifying connection you've ever experienced, hihi!"

Your thoughts were a whirlwind, but curiosity and a burgeoning desire overtook any hesitation, "I… I think I am…"

Unbeknownst to you, every word she spoke was a clever ploy to draw you deeper into the water. Her delicate fingers reached for yours, their touch gentle as they caressed your hand. With a subtle, sensuous motion, she brought one of your hands closer to her lips, her tongue lightly tracing your wrist. Her actions seemed as if she were trying to capture the scent of the life force coursing through your racing heart.

Back on the shore, your friends watched in helpless horror as their friend disappeared beneath the surface. The rusalka's haunting song lingered in the air, creating an unsettling atmosphere.

Meanwhile, your friends hurriedly left you by the lake, determined to seek assistance. As they sprinted towards the village and knocked on several doors, their desperation grew with each step.

Only one door creaked open, revealing an elderly woman. With a sense of urgency, your friends quickly explained the dire situation unfolding at the lake. Desperate to save their friend, your friends sought the guidance of an elderly villager, and it turned out she was known for her knowledge of folklore and the supernatural. She listened to their tale with a heavy heart and instructed them to bring a rare herb that was said to have the power to dispel enchantments. She offered them a piece of the dried herb and decided to help them face the rusalka.

With the herb in hand, the group returned to the lake, determined to break the rusalka's hold over you, even though they were scared you were already long gone. The night was eerily silent now, devoid of the haunting melody that had drawn her beneath the water.

The rusalka sensed their presence and confronted them, her beautiful but malevolent form shimmering in the moonlight. "You dare to challenge me?" she hissed, her voice filled with centuries of anger and sorrow. "You have no power here, weaklings."

Your friends held their ground, brandishing the herb. The elderly villager chanted incantations that carried the power to weaken the rusalka's spell.

Amid the chaotic scene, your friends gathered around the water's edge, their voices raised in a chorus of desperate screams. The rusalka, had a tight grip on you, your head submerged beneath the unforgiving surface already, leaving only your nose and forehead exposed.

"Let her go! Release her!" one of your female friends shouted, her voice filled with a mixture of fear and anger, the urgency in her pleas piercing the air.

But rusalka, with her eerie, yellowish eyes and an ethereal grip on your form, seemed indifferent to their protests. Her grip remained relentless, and her silent, haunting stare seemed to taunt your friends' futile efforts.

The tension in the air was palpable as your loved ones desperately tried to break the hold of this mysterious, otherworldly being, their voices echoing in a symphony of fear and determination, all while you struggled for breath, your life precariously balanced between the surface and the depths.

As the herb was cast into the water and the elderly woman chanted her incantations, a subtle magic began to weave its enchantment.

Slowly but surely, Himiko's form started to fade away. Her grip remained unyielding, as she continued to sing her haunting song, a desperate plea to retain her presence. Himiko began to emit an otherworldly, high-pitched squeal that reverberated through the still night. Her voice, though beautiful, had a chilling quality that sent shivers down their spines. It was an eerie, haunting sound that seemed to defy the very laws of reality.

As the piercing notes continued, those witnessing this spectral phenomenon felt a sense of unease. Her voice grew louder, more desperate, as if trying to break through the veil of existence. The air around her shimmered, and she began to slowly fade away, becoming transparent, like a wisp of mist in the moonlight.

With each passing moment, she vanished further, her voice a ghostly memory in the stillness of the night, leaving a haunting imprint on those who had the eerie privilege of witnessing her mysterious departure.

You gasped, your senses returning as the rusalka's hold over you waned. The villager's determined efforts had disrupted the enchantment, freeing you from the vengeful spirit's grasp.

With a final, mournful wail, the rusalka disappeared beneath the water, defeated but not entirely vanquished.

You were safe, but the chilling memory of the rusalka's haunting melody would linger, a reminder that some legends held truths that were best left undisturbed.

The lake would forever be a place of whispered fears and shrouded mysteries.

You, forever changed by your encounter, had a profound respect for the supernatural. You couldn't help but wonder if the rusalka had truly moved on or if she still lurked in the depths, awaiting another chance to ensnare an unwitting soul. You had to concede that there were phenomena that defied the boundaries of time and comprehension, veering into the realm of the supernatural, forever beyond human understanding.

At times, Toga would reappear in your dreams, a haunting presence that both captivated and unnerved you. Her voice, like a gentle, melodic whisper, would fill your slumbering mind. Those enormous, yellow eyes, seemingly capable of peering deep into your very soul, held your gaze, and her untamed, hair was fashioned into two haphazard buns. In your dreams, she would extend an invitation, beckoning you into her enigmatic world. The allure was undeniable, like a magnetic pull that drew you in. But just as you were about to step into the unknown, you'd jolt awake, drenched in a chilling sweat, the remnants of her presence lingering in the recesses of your consciousness.

Years passed, and the memory of that Halloween night at the lake haunted the villagers. The rusalka, though defeated, was never truly vanquished. Her presence lingered in the water, and the lake remained a place of eerie quiet, where the night held its breath as if waiting for the return of the vengeful spirit. And as the years passed, the rusalka's haunting melody became but a distant echo, a testament to the enduring power of legends and the strength of those who dared to face the unknown.

[blank-slate-jay]

In Need

Joel Miller x Male!Reader Word Count: 2.6k

Tags:Angst,Violence(Blood),Comfort, Soft!Joel

Request: "Long story not so short reader's the one to encounter David, he gives Joel the medicine, reader is the one who kills David. Joel and Ellie find him, Joel seeing that he went outside alone, he killed someone for the first time and basically put himself at risk just to take care of Ellie and to prove Joel that he isn't cargo and obviously Joel fucking breaks because the guy he's in love with did all this shit to keep safe the two people he cared for the most and didn't give his life any value even before that. Reader was always behind to warn them if something was gonna attack, or to defendem with his body first and Joel didn't notice until that moment."

A/N: This prompt has a lot of angst and I love it! Has some slow build up so I really hope this is what you wanted anonymous, Enjoy!

“Where, WHERE THE FUCK IS HE?!” Joel screamed. His growl was enough to shake the wooden walls and it definitely rattled Ellie, who had her gun pointed at their second hostage tied up against the table.

Joel was furious, with his injury, with the lack of information, and most importantly, your absence. Ellie had told him everything about the raiders, how they came to kill him, how you acted as bait to lure the ruffians away from the town. Ultimately you failed and were captured. He didn’t need to know all the details, just hearing Ellie recite this to him was enough to get him off his deathbed, away from the cold mattress.

The man Joel had in his grasp, screamed out as the knife drove deeper into the man’s knee. “I don’t know…” he cried in anguish. Joel didn’t give a damn, whipping the man’s head back to get him to focus on his words. “Where. Is. He?”Joel's voice is much lower but just as menacing as before.

“They…” the raider muffled, “..there…there’s a town.”

“What TOWN?!”

His screams were enough to cause the second man on the floor to shift, Ellie positions her gun in line with the man’s head. “Leave him alone man, I can tell you where it is. It’s-”

Joel yelled again, “Shut up,” pulling the knife out from the man’s knee. Just on the small table next to him was a map, he grabs it while shoving the knife’s handle into the man’s mouth. “Point to where it is. It better fuckin’ match up with your buddy.”

The man sobs through the handle, with the map being held to his face. He did as told, drawing a line across the crinkled paper. He spits the knife out into his own lap, “There…ok? It should be there, fucking psycho”. Joel looks at the location, Silver Lake. “I wouldn’t hold my breath,” Joel's eyes look back at the raider, “David’s probably chopped him up by now,” he laughs.

Joel gritted his teeth, eyes as dark as the night. In one swoop motion he grapples the blade and shoves it against him, receiving a cry from his buddy off to the side. “Noo.”

The other hostage tried moving, as if he could somehow save his dying companion. Ellie of course was on it, “Move again, and I’ll shoot you.”

He tried pleading with them, in a state of hysteria, knowing he might have the same demise. Ellie had her gun, her aim shaky, scared to kill again but ready if it meant less obstacles later.

Joel though didn’t want her doing the dirty work, he was up and by her side, lightly pushing her hand down to lower her aim. “Get the horse ready”, he said with a small hint of guilt in his voice. Joel had insisted she stay hidden in the basement while he interrogated them, instead, she wanted to help. The older man didn’t have it in him to argue with her, between his grogginess and his wounded stomach, it wouldn’t have done him any good. 

This time she did as told, lowering her weapon and walking out of the room. 

Keep reading

Joel’s gaze turns to the man, tightening his fingers. 

“We should’ve blasted you motherfuckers when we had the chance!”

“Maybe you should have,” he says, bringing his knife down onto the man’s skull. 

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

The Silver Lake town was in shambles, people were yelling, people were running for their lives, and some were even fighting each other. Chaos ensued outside from your hiding place. Word got out on what was in their last meal, human remains. The people freaked out and began fighting, guns blazing.

You were sat up behind a counter, a pool of red just inches from you. Trembling at the sight, you tried collecting yourself. It was the first time you killed somebody, someone you couldn’t spare for once. You were moments away from being turned into a dish, what were you supposed to do? The thought made you nearly gag, you didn’t know how Joel didn’t feel the same way after he did the same. Perhaps he did and was just numb to it all. 

It didn’t matter though how you felt, you lived, you survived. You’d get to breathe freely even if it was for another moment. There wasn’t much time to celebrate, as nothing was in the world, because another set of footsteps entered into the massive dining hall. The quickness and sudden entrance made you jerk.

You listen carefully, as the person trailed around the room.

He said your name and you recognized that voice. Fucking David. Shit. He was the last person you wanted to encounter, especially in your hazed state. To some degree your fizzled mind was more alert than ever. After all, you trusted him. He gave you medicine, let you and your friends live; he must’ve had a change of heart. Or his plan to raid your rundown base, kidnap one of you even, was his intention all along. 

He called out for you again, sending a chill up your spine, “I know you’re in here. Why don’t you come on out, we can just work this out. Like ole pals”.

His voice, so condescending he might as well just say he wanted you dead. His voice was far, not enough to calm your nerves. Peering around the counter, through all the chairs and tables, you can make out the movement of a gray door. It swung, with a faint bit of light shining from behind. That was your way out, it had to be. The front door wasn’t an option as that would expose you to David and the mayhem happening just outside. There was probably a window, or even better another door just beyond the one you saw ahead. You needed to leave.

“If you take me to your friends, I’ll let you off scout free. We can forget about this whole mess, start over.”

Yeah right? Like you’d put your faith in him again. After he captured you and put you in a cage, after he ordered his man to cut you up like an animal; like hell you’d trust him.

Hearing David’s steps, slowly trailing around made you move, making sure you were as quick as can be. You kept your distance behind pillars, seats, and small walls; constantly keeping track of him through sound and small glimpses from your hiding spot.

You were now close, hiding behind a a seated booth that hid you from David’s sight and had the backdoor completely in full view. Anyone coming through the door would see you. It was tempting just to run for it. Doing so would alert him, causing you more trouble than you could’ve ask for.

A distraction is what you needed, something to keep him busy for a time. But would do that? A molotov might do the trick, the idea came about while you looked over at the bottle on a nearby table. If only you had a rag and a lighter.

Your knife would have to do, as you prepare yourself for a sneak attack.

————

Joel and Ellie made it, Silver Lake. The place was in shambles, they were caught off by the shouting, the combustion; initially thinking they'd have to sneak their way through a heavily guarded town.

Joel couldn't tell if he'd prefer what he was expecting, or the situation they were in now. There wasn’t time to waste, thinking too hard would just prolong your rescue.

The two kept behind a brick wall, watching and waiting for an opening. Joel’s plan was to search all the buildings that likely had a kitchen or butcher room. They’d have to wait until the gunshots came to a steady, not wanting to get caught in any cross fire.

One last shot rang out, before all that was left was the sounds of the howling winds. It lasted long, and the two gazed at each other before Joel decided to peek around the corner. Only three men remained, at least from what he could see. He could easily take them all with just a few bullets, but his aching stomach would prove to make that difficult.

“Jesus, can’t believe they’d turn on us.”

“Yeah, where the fuck did David go?"

Was there a dispute? Did you cause this? Who cared, not Joel. He just wanted to know if you were alive and well, afraid the ladder was high unlikely and wishful thinking.

Fuck it. He pulls his rifle up, groaning as he lined up his aim. Ellie got herself prepared too, locking eyes with Joel and communicating they’re next action through gaze alone. One of the men were facing away from them, he takes aim before pulling, taking one guy out.

It startles the other two, leaving them confused. It gave Joel time to reload behind cover before coming back out and down went the raider. None of them could hide besides one, who ducked behind the opposite side of the building the two were already hiding behind.

He had his rifle aimed just at the edges of the brick wall, ready to tap the raider the moment he peaked over. Ellie had herself up against Joel, somewhat curious if the coast was clear. His sharp, focused eyes said otherwise.

Just as half of the raider's face came into view, Joel was quick to dispose of the last man with a piercing shot to the face. Falling to the ground, the coast looked to be finally clear. The silence almost seemed threatening, like a trap was awaiting them if they stepped out from their hiding spot. Nothing of course convinced Joel of this other than his own worry. 

“Stay close to me”, Joel instructs Ellie. She nods, taking small steps behind Joel to keep her pace steady for the injured man.

They didn’t have a certain route, just trailing the walls and looking into the windows of buildings as they passed by each one; alleyways included. Joel sporadically looked around, trying to locate you while keeping a lookout for any other threats. Ellie did the same, but kept her eyes out for you. 

Joel, so caught up in the moment, hadn’t realized Ellie’s light steps growing distant by the second.

He turned to her, eyes widening at her recklessness, “Ellie”! She wasn’t listening,her eyes were squinted, investigating the figure just beyond the alleyway. She could have swore she recognized who it was, until she got closer. She gasped. 

Joel calls her name again, this time she listen. 

“Joel,” she waves her hand over, “It’s y/n”. She ran into the alley leaving Joel to limp his way over to the other side of the street. She could’ve at least helped him, after hearing that you were alive, the man wanted to run but couldn’t. 

He crosses the street, and is parallel with the valley and spots you at the other side, knees deep into the snow; draped in stains of red.

Ellie had already cross the distance in a sprint. She grabs your arms, startling you from your paralyzed state. Looking up from the snow, you were shocked to see Ellie, she was here. How? You had told her to stay and watch out for Joel, now she was here?

You had some questions but decided to hold them off, just wanting to be reminded what a caring embrace felt like. You reach your hand up and Ellie comes down to you with a hug. You could feel your tears welling up, wanting to forget the hell you just experienced.

Hearing a set of steps hit the snow, you snap your gaze to the side. Some of your questions were answered on sight just seeing Joel struggling as he limped over to you. Your tears finally started pouring down your face. "Joel, I fucking did it. I killed someone," your voice quivered.

You're words barely graced the man's ears. He just was happy you were still here, functioning normally too. He drops down to you, cupping your face and making you keep eye contact with him.

When you tried speaking again, it came out disjointed. It was a blend between an explanation and an apology. Yet Joel knew what you meant by the few words that escaped your shaky lips.

The way he treated you up to this point, your dispute weeks ago, the one that shut you down completely; when Joel yelled at you for not defending yourself. He did it out of fear, you nearly got kidnapped for god knows what reason. By then he was fed up with your passiveness, practically calling you useless and nothing more than dead weight.

He very quickly regretted this over the next few days, the lack of any soul in your voice was aching to hear. Ellie was feeling the effects of this too, trying to make small talk with you, but you never had much to say. The raising pain he felt made him feel guilty, believing his actions didn't justify his emotions. You likely we're in greater pain than he was.

Joel ran his fingers across your cheek, wiping away the drops leaving your eyes. You look down, "I'm sorry I...I tried protecting Ellie, and you..."

Hearing your voice was just furthering the wounds in the older man's heart. He shook, his head reminded of his wrongdoings. "No no no..." he pulls your face back up, "Sweetheart, we wouldn't be here if it weren't for you," Joel tried hiding the cracks in his voice. "You saved me, you watched over Ellie, I can't thank you enough. And..." he paused, his guilt coming back into the forefront. "''m sorry, for everythin'. I shouldn't have said any of it, I'd go back and change it in a heartbeat."

His words were touching, as if you didn't have enough to keep your tears flowing. You close your eyes in an attempt to hide yourself, to save the two people you cared about much the trouble of witnessing you break down. A combination of everything you'd suffer through just came crashing down onto you. The embarrassment of appearing weak in front of Joel, wasn't enough to stop your cries.

This time, he wouldn't push you away, not like last time. He pulled you in, his forehead pressing up against yours. He just kept repeating his remorsefulness, each time his voice grew softer until it was a whisper like the wind.

Ellie was also providing you extra security with her head leaning into the back of your shoulder. She would thank you later, with her own words, but she thought it was appropriate to comfort you now. Without you, she'd have no idea how to mend Joel or even handle David. It scared her thinking about doing everything you've done all alone.

You spent some time regaining your composure in Joel's warm palms, reaching up to place yours over his, you didn't realize how numb it had gotten from the freezing cold. You grip them tightly, clearing away the sorrow with a sniff.

"We need to go, okay?"

You took a second but eventually nodded.

Joel nods too in approval, he grips your hands in his own, and stands slowly, pulling you up along with him. Ellie lifts herself on her own accord, giving you some breathing room to physically reconcile with Joel. Seeing him wrap his arm around your back, his chin stuck to the side of your forehead, gave her hope that things going forward between you two would get better.

She informs you, "The horse isn't far," grabbing ahold of you before leading you forward.

Being that close to you, glued to your side, he wish he could tell you how much you meant to him. With the nightmare you just experienced, dropping something heavy like that would have to wait, you’d been through more than enough.

For once he was just happy, to finally make up with the man he loved, dearly.

[drkmgs]

Can you do something when like wednesday is a yandere for reader and reader drops their bracelet in a nearby lake,so reader reaches out to grab the bracelet before it sinks all the way to the bottom. But something bites the reader and the reader screams very loud in pain, ausing wednesday to hear them and stop her writing time to check on them. SO SORRY THE WAS LONG!😭😭

Bracelet

Wednesday Addams x Reader

Warning: blood, willing to murder...

At first, I didn't know what Yandere means but then when I searched for it. It's actually what I thought Wednesday would be like if she has a partner. Didn't know it would end up like that...

Everyone can take away anything from you, just not your bracelet. This particular accessory was given by your late mother on your 16th Birthday, which was recent. She died from Nightshade poisoning. That is why you cherish the bracelet too much.

The sun is out and everyone is enjoying the warm weather. You and your classmates decided to go down to the lake. Everyone took a seat by the docks and you sat by the edge of it. You were talking to your friend when you fumbled with your bracelet when it suddenly snapped and fell into the water. You could still see it slowly drifting down and thought you'll be able to catch it in time, but you didn't know something was luring in the water waiting for its prey.

Wednesday is currently writing her novel when a bloody scream interrupted her thoughts. She knew who the voice belonged to and didn't hesitate to leave her Typewriter. Wednesday dashed through the halls, out of Nevermore, to the lakes. Wednesday didn't care if she bumped into people or shoved them to the side to get to you.

Your hand dove into the water trying to catch your bracelet, which you lucky caught, but suddenly stinging pain went through your body. You screamed bloody murder. Everyone around you went to panic. Your scream was so loud that a pigtailed girl who was in the school building heard it, who is already speed-walking to you.

She skipped through the students running away, approaching you sitting by the docks, holding your bloody hand. It was a nasty bite from a nasty predator. "Y/N! Who do I need to murder?" Wednesday asked as she kneeled beside you. "No one! My mom's bracelet snapped and it fell into the water. I grabbed for it and something bit me." You sobbed. "It's Okay. I'll bomb the lake later. Let's get you patched up." Wednesday said helping you to stand up, taking you to the infirmary.

The nurse gently opened your hand which holds your bracelet, she set it to the side and proceeded to stitch up your wounds. You hissed when she got a little too rough with the needle, which caused Wednesday to send her a death glare. "I have told you I could have done it for you. You'd be in less pain right now." Wednesday stated in her monotonous tone. "Wednesday, she has to clean my wound and we don't even know what bit me, so it would be best if an expert would check on it and stitch it up." You stated back to her still hissing when the nurse tugged on the needle.

When the nurse finished up, she reminded you to change the bandage and not get your hand wet. You'll need to come back next week, to see if it's healing perfectly. You thank the nurse, took your bracelet, and dragged Wednesday out of there before she could say something else.

You both had the same direction to the dorms, so when Wednesday turned to the left, you were confused. "Wednesday! Where are you going? The dorm is this way." You asked but she didn't respond. You shrugged and went ahead to your dorm. The moment you stepped into your room, you heard a loud explosion. Something clicked in your brain and you ran out of your room as well as other students to see what was the loud noise.

When you arrived by the lake all you could see is a furious Principal Weems talking to Wednesday, while other students were gathered around them. "Ms. Addams care to explain what on earth you're doing?" Principal Weems said her jaw clench as Wednesday continued to throw grenades into the lake. "Principal Weems. May I?" You excused yourself to get near Wednesday. "Can you stop throwing grenades into the lake?" You grasped at Wednesday's arm that was about to get another grenade. "That little creature who bit you needs to die. No one hurts what is mine." Wednesday clenched her teeth looking at your bandaged hand. She didn't just claim you as hers in front of the whole school, right? You felt your cheeks heat up at the thought of it, so you tugged at Wednesday's arm until you were already dragging her away from the lake and away from the audience watching you go.

You only let her arm go when you two entered her dorm. You sighed and drop onto her bed. "Sit up. I have to change your bandages." You sat up and hold her hand to her. She gently removed all the bandages. You observed her. Did she mean what she said earlier? You have noticed how quickly she reacts when it's about you. She always has this killer glare, if someone approaches you. You had to know. No, you wanted to know. "Do you have feelings for me?" You intensely study Wednesday's reaction. She finished wrapping your hand with bandages. You saw a good damn second Wednesday's eyes got bigger, she was caught off guard, but gathered herself after. "I am certainly not a romantic person, but I will kill for you or kill anyone who would want to harm you." Wednesday answered proudly.

"You don't need to commit murder for me. I will destroy them before they could lay a finger on what is truly yours." You say to her, creasing her cheek to look into her eyes, then down to her wine-colored lips. You couldn't help yourself but clash your lips onto hers. She gladly took it. and that's how you confess love— in a Wednesday Addams way.

[unabashegirl]

Enticing 20 (HS)

Summary: Harry Styles is a young billionaire and CEO of his own company. He mostly keeps to himself, he is stern and very meticulous when it comes to business. He also likes to keep his personal life very private for the sake of his newly born son Oliver Styles. It isn't until he meets Y/N Y/L/N that everything changes. She becomes his new nanny after his previous one quits due to personal reasons. She is young, caring, and sweet. Will they ignore their feelings? Will Harry's girlfriend accept their love and leave them? Will she be able to cope with his busy agenda? What about Oliver's mother? Where is she? Who is she?

— all enticing chapters —

DISCLAIMER: the following series has four more chapter available exclusively on Patreon.

Author's note: hello everyone, I hope you are all having a wonderful week. Chapter 24 is already posted on Patreon for all my subscribers. If you are not subscribed it is never too late, and you will not be disappointed. I hope you enjoy tonight's chapter and without further do, HAPPY READING — let me know if you want to be tagged!

🥀 🥀 🥀 🥀 🥀 🥀 🥀 🥀 🥀

“I am bored already” Alessandro shared with a pout as they all sat in the living room of the apartment where they had been staying for almost ten days.

They had been to all the museums and had eaten everything available in Rome — according to Alessandro.

“It's time to leave” Michael sighed, closing the magazine that he had sat down to read.

“Before Alessandro drives us crazy” William had been answering some emails from the company. He had been enjoying himself. Unfortunately, Alessandro had been ruining it with all his whining.

“So, should I set up everything for tomorrow morning or should we leave tonight” Harry glared at Alessandro. It was already the middle of the day, and they had decided to stay in after Y/N complained that her ankles and feet were hurting from all the walking. “Ok, so that's a no. Tomorrow it is” he said excitedly, raising from his seat and running to make all the arrangements.

“Where are we going?” Y/N asked as she closed the book that she had bought and had been reading lately. Her head was resting on Harry’s thigh as they enjoyed the quietness and the coolness of the apartment. Some days had been extremely hot while others had been chilly and windy.

“To the north of Italy”

“To Alessandro’s family estate in Lake Como” Harry explained further, “There is, even more, to do over there. You’ll never want to leave” he smiled down at her.

He didn't have to insist because she had fallen head over heels for Italy. She had even grown to love the long lines. It had begun when in the line to get into the Vatican Museum. The boys were angry at her, but she insisted on waiting like the others. It had been an exceptionally hot and humid day. An older woman had called out to them from across the street.

Keep in mind that Y/N had no previous knowledge of how to speak Italian, but she could sense that the woman was calling out to her. So, she crossed the street without any further doubt and much to Harry’s dislike.

The older woman grabbed her hand and pulled her into a shop. Much to her surprise, it was her own coffee shop.

“Thirsty right?” She managed to say as they walked up to the counter where two men found it second nature that she was luring people into the shop. Funnily enough, the older woman never gave her a cold drink, but rather the opposite — a ridiculously hot espresso. She invited all of them for espresso. In fact, Harry had found it amusing. It had the potential to become another of those very funny stories that they shared whenever asked about their holidays abroad.

“When are we leaving?” Y/N asked as Alessandro reentered the room.

“Tomorrow morning by train” He smiled, “they pick us up at the station”.

“By train?” Michael frowned annoyed that they were flying. He wasn’t a fan of sitting for so long. Even, and when he was a little boy. He had given his mother a hard time, and even unfortunately he had never grown out of it.

“I thought it would be a nice idea” Alessandro shrugged, “for Y/N and for the scenery”.

“That’s a wonderful idea.”

“Says Mr. impatient” William chuckled, earning him a kick from Harry. “Should probably get packing”.

“Do you want to go to one last dinner in Rome tonight?” Y/N smiled and nodded excitedly wanting to spend some good one-on-one time with Harry. “Go get ready then” he pecked her lips and helped her off the couch.

“Where are you taking her?” Michael asked intrigued.

“Just to a little place that I know then maybe for a walk” he shrugged, “nothing fancy”.

Michael nodded and remained silent. He didn’t feel necessarily jealous but felt like was missing something. He missed being accompanied.

“I am going to get ready” Harry laid after a few minutes of quietness.

“Perhaps you should call violet” Alessandro suggested to him, knowing how upset he felt by his expressions. “Let her know where we are and how much you really miss her”. Michael had never needed to ask for anyone back. Hence, why it was an unknown concept to him.

“This is cute,” Y/N said to Harry as they sat in a small and intimate bistro. She wore an oversized black blazer with some knee-high boots that complimented her legs. “How did you find this place?” She asked watching him unfold his napkin and place it on his lap.

“It’s a very long story” He smiled as he looked up with a cheeky smile.

“I've got time” Y/N responded as Harry signaled the waiter for him to approach, so they could order a bottle of wine.

“Well, this was years ago. I was still in college” He seriously said, “we have gone out on a riverboat after going out for drinks.”

“Michael’s idea?” Harry nodded as he tried to figure out what to order and confess what turkey happened that day.

“It was somewhat late, and before I got on the boat, I had told Michael that I needed a restroom, and he insisted that the ride wouldn’t take long”.

“Shut up” Y/N could tell where the story was going. Harry chuckled and exhaled loudly. Only a few people knew about the story. Y/N brought her hands up to her mouth in disbelief.

“Turns out the boat ride was an hour and a half. I got off in desperate search of a bathroom and came across this little restaurant on the way.”

“So, did you? Did you pee your pants?” Harry smiled but kept his lips shut and shyly nodded. “No way!” She laughed heavily with him.

“I hoped the restroom door and I knew it was too late” He admitted, chuckling heavily. “They had to buy me a new pair of everything”.

“Oh my god,” She laughed, holding her stomach. “I am sorry” she apologized because she could imagine how embarrassing it could be and let alone to someone of his caliber.

“It's all right. I’ve gotten over it” He sat up straight and tried his best to recover his composure. However, it was hopeless because it was too funny. “Maybe I still haven’t”.

They dinned and wined for hours. Y/N even shared an embarrassing moment, so Harry wouldn’t feel alone.

“About Oliver” Harry suddenly said as they finished their coffees. Y/No’s laugh instantly died down.

“What about him?”

“It’s nothing bad. I just don’t think I’ve ever gotten the chance to properly thank you for all that you do for him and coming into our lives in such a critical time.”

“I love him and how his personality is developing” she commented, she knew she wasn’t supposed to develop any sort of special connection with any of the kids she took care of. Although Oliver was different, she could tell from the first day. “He is so great, and I don’t say it just because of what we have”.

Harry smiled, tugged on his lips, and tried his best to keep his emotions to himself. If there was something that made him emotional was speaking about Oliver. He was everything that he had ever wished for and more.

The couple strolled around before calling a driver and heading back to the apartment. Everyone had already retired to their bedroom by the time they arrived. And since they had to be up early the next morning to catch the train, they decided to stay up and pack up.

“Let me make sure we didn’t leave anything on the bathroom counter,” Y/N said as Harry finished packing the last few things.

Her phone was placed on the bed when the screen brightens up. Harry’s attention was drawn to it and not because it was a one-time thing, but because it had happened five times in three minutes.

He looked over and reached out but retracted knowing that it was her privacy, and he shouldn’t cross that boundary. Although, the phone kept getting notifications and Harry grew impatient. And so, he reached out and checked the origin of the messages after looking over his shoulder.

It was James. Her ex. And so, he grew scared and nervous about losing her.

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[clumsyraccoon]

Fishing

Kusakabe Atsuya x GN!reader

"You and Kusakabe decide to go on a little fishing trip to the sea."

Some fluff inspired by the lovely interaction I had a while back with an anonymous Kusakabe enjoyer <3 Anon, if you're still out there thank you for the sweet headcanons! ❤️

Words: 1.213

TW: mention of fish death

It’s calm and quiet, like you both like it.

The sea is serene, lazy waves lulling you almost to sleep, the distant cries of the seagulls becoming a background noise, dangerously near to have the effect of those ASMR videos and put you in a good slumber. You try for the fourth time to understand the line of the book you’re reading, but with a sigh you admit defeat and put the bookmark between the pages before closing it.

Clear blue sky, gentle breeze. The perfect conditions for a Sunday fishing trip to the sea.

You take off your sunglasses while turning your head the other inhabitant of the boat: Kusakabe has been silent for a good hour now, gaze lost in the depths of the blue sea and trademark lollipop in mouth, while the line of his fishing rod moves in synchrony with the rhythm of the waves. You tilt your head, not sure about what is going on inside his own, but you keep your mouth shut and just admire him from your deck chair: he has abandoned his formal attire, a simple white t-shirt where there was his button-up shirt, and a pair of comfy sweatpants instead of his suit trousers. Even in the way he dresses, he is completely detached from his sorcerer persona: when fishing, he is no more Kusakabe Atsuya, Grade 1 Sorcerer and second-year teacher of Tokyo JuJutsu High. When fishing, he’s just a man enjoying his hobby.

Fishing has always been his way to wind down and relax, the perfect hobby for the kind of solitary man he is: he loves to venture to rivers or lakes and just be there, only him and the fishes (if he is lucky), patiently waiting for one to take the bait. No thoughts, head empty. Or too many thoughts and the urge to somehow release them. And as so precious as it is for him, very few are the people allowed to accompany him, and only every now and then: his old man, his sister and Takeru, you. The first time he shyly and hesitantly asked you, you almost felt guilty in saying yes, as if intruding in something so personal and important for him was something you weren’t allowed to. But he was the one asking, so the guilt was fast dissipated and you felt like the biggest honor has been bestowed upon you. He invited you to go fishing with him. He trusted you.

He has his usual spots, mostly hidden and unknown parts of rivers and lakes he has found over the years in his missions’ wanderings, places far away from the city where he can forget for a while the kind of world he lives in. First time, he took you to a lake up in the mountains, water so cold you thought it was impossible for any form of life to live there. Second time it was by a river, comfortably sit under a big tree on the bank, the soft breeze coming from it the perfect thing to cool down in that particularly hot summer day. For today, the both of you wanted to try something more audacious and ended up in that little rented boat out in the sea, a fresh new book for you and a brand new sets of colorful lures for him.

You focus again on the present and your gaze returns to him, shoulders slightly hunched, his broad back in full display, the perfectly fitting t-shirt doing his physique justice almost better than the shirt. He doesn’t move much and you start to worry a bit, torn between instinct to check on him and the fact that you know he needs those moments of complete detachment from the world. You decide for a middle ground, moving closer with your chair, just enough to make him feel your presence: you are there, near him, ready both if he ever needed something or if he wanted you to leave him be.

But it is not long before something starts to change: the fishing float trembles and with a plop! it goes underwater. Kusakabe immediately tenses, concentration completely devoted to the right moves he has to perform in order to have a successful catch. The fishing line is being tugged fiercely and the man at your side jumps up from his little plastic chair, sending it flying behind him. Your body reacts by reflex and tenses as well, you heart racing in your chest, apprehension taking over you as if you were the one fishing.

Kusakabe slowly yet steadily starts to move the fishing rod from left to right, in order to wear out whatever fish hooked itself on it. Enough strength to drag it around, but not too much or the line will snap.

Leeeeeeeeft and riiiiiiiiight

leeeeeeeeft and riiiiiiiiight

Almost hypnotized you follow his movements with your gaze, hands clenching your shorts. His forearm muscles so tense you can almost count the fibers and the veins. A single droplet of sweat rolls down the side of his face, eyebrows knitted in hyper-focus.

“C’mon, you motherfucker…” he murmurs through clenched teeth, that threaten to snap as well.

The intense battle between him and the fish continues for a while, struggle for catching against struggle for escaping, before Kusakabe suddenly jerks the fishing rod back and the biggest and most gorgeous tuna you’ve ever seen emerges form the salty waters. The time seems to freeze. Kusakabe’s wide eyes. The fish iridescent scales under the sun. Your hands pressed over your gaping mouth.

When the tuna lands on the boat with a loud thud and starts to squirm around, time starts to flow normally again and Kusakabe acts quick on instinct, quickly seizing and immobilizing the fish with both hands until it completely stops moving. Eyes still wide from surprise and emotion turn towards you “It’s...it’s a tuna...”

His face transforms and the biggest smile you have ever seen on him forms on his lips and reaches up to his eyes, face blazing with the light of the sheer joy he’s experiencing.

“IT’S A TUNA!”

His smile hits you in the best possible way, astounded by the fact you have never seen him smiling like that. Your heart seems to physically enlarge by the amount of love you’re feeling that exact moment: able to witness him like this, with no other preoccupation than to prepare the portable fridge with all the ice cubes in it, you feel blessed. This is his Domain, where he is the most comfortable, where he doesn’t have to fear for his life, and where you are now included as well.

Turning on his feet, he closes the short distance between the two of you and big, muscular arms, toned by years of katana training, sweep you up from your feet in a sudden motion like you weight nothing. Your arms find their way around his neck and you both giggle uncontrollably like idiots, his excitement and happiness being immediately mirrored by your own. Kusakabe swings you around a couple of times, before putting you back on the ground, his smile still shining bright.

One of his hands intertwine with yours and he gives you a peck on your forehead.

“I’ll treat us with some Torotaku-maki tonight”

[theraccoonslair]

Fishing

Characters: Kusakabe Atsuya x gn!reader

Synopsis: You and Kusakabe decide to go on a little fishing trip to the sea.

Words: 1200⁓

Note: Some fluff inspired by the lovely interaction I had a while back with an anonymous Kusakabe enjoyer <3

It’s calm and quiet, like you both like it. The sea is serene, lazy waves lulling you almost to sleep, the distant cries of the seagulls becoming a background noise, dangerously near to have the effect of those ASMR videos and put you in a good slumber. You try for the fourth time to understand the line of the book you’re reading, but with a sigh you admit defeat and put the bookmark between the pages before closing it.

Clear blue sky, gentle breeze. The perfect conditions for a Sunday fishing trip to the sea.

You take off your sunglasses while turning your head the other inhabitant of the boat: Kusakabe has been silent for a good hour now, gaze lost in the depths of the blue sea and trademark lollipop in mouth, while the line of his fishing rod moves in synchrony with the rhythm of the waves. You tilt your head, not sure about what is going on inside his own, but you keep your mouth shut and just admire him from your deck chair: he has abandoned his formal attire, a simple white t-shirt where there was his button-up shirt, and a pair of comfy sweatpants instead of his suit trousers. Even in the way he dresses, he is completely detached from his sorcerer persona: when fishing, he is no more Kusakabe Atsuya, Grade 1 Sorcerer and second-year teacher of Tokyo JuJutsu High. When fishing, he’s just a man enjoying his hobby.

Fishing has always been his way to wind down and relax, the perfect hobby for the kind of solitary man he is: he loves to venture to rivers or lakes and just be there, only him and the fishes (if he is lucky), patiently waiting for one to take the bait. No thoughts, head empty. Or too many thoughts and the urge to somehow release them. And as so precious as it is for him, very few are the people allowed to accompany him, and only every now and then: his old man, his sister and Takeru, you. The first time he shyly and hesitantly asked you, you almost felt guilty in saying yes, as if intruding in something so personal and important for him was something you weren’t allowed to. But he was the one asking, so the guilt was fast dissipated and you felt like the biggest honor has been bestowed upon you. He invited you to go fishing with him. He trusted you.

He has his usual spots, mostly hidden and unknown parts of rivers and lakes he has found over the years in his missions’ wanderings, places far away from the city where he can forget for a while the kind of world he lives in. First time, he took you to a lake up in the mountains, water so cold you thought it was impossible for any form of life to live there. Second time it was by a river, comfortably sit under a big tree on the bank, the soft breeze coming from it the perfect thing to cool down in that particularly hot summer day. For today, the both of you wanted to try something more audacious and ended up in that little rented boat out in the sea, a fresh new book for you and a brand new sets of colorful lures for him.

You focus again on the present and your gaze returns to him, shoulders slightly hunched, his broad back in full display, the perfectly fitting t-shirt doing his physique justice almost better than the shirt. He doesn’t move much and you start to worry a bit, torn between instinct to check on him and the fact that you know he needs those moments of complete detachment from the world. You decide for a middle ground, moving closer with your chair, just enough to make him feel your presence: you are there, near him, ready both if he ever needed something or if he wanted you to leave him be.

But it is not long before something starts to change: the fishing float trembles and with a plop! it goes underwater. Kusakabe immediately tenses, concentration completely devoted to the right moves he has to perform in order to have a successful catch. The fishing line is being tugged fiercely and the man at your side jumps up from his little plastic chair, sending it flying behind him. Your body reacts by reflex and tenses as well, you heart racing in your chest, apprehension taking over you as if you were the one fishing. Kusakabe slowly yet steadily starts to move the fishing rod from left to right, in order to wear out whatever fish hooked itself on it. Enough strength to drag it around, but not too much or the line will snap.

Leeeeeeeeft and riiiiiiiiight

leeeeeeeeft and riiiiiiiiight

Almost hypnotized you follow his movements with your gaze, hands clenching your shorts. His forearm muscles so tense you can almost count the fibers and the veins. A single droplet of sweat rolls down the side of his face, eyebrows knitted in hyper-focus.

“C’mon, you motherfucker…” he murmurs through clenched teeth, that threaten to snap as well.

The intense battle between him and the fish continues for a while, struggle for catching against struggle for escaping, before Kusakabe suddenly jerks the fishing rod back and the biggest and most gorgeous tuna you’ve ever seen emerges form the salty waters. The time seems to freeze. Kusakabe’s wide eyes. The fish iridescent scales under the sun. Your hands pressed over your gaping mouth.

When the tuna lands on the boat with a loud thud and starts to squirm around, time starts to flow normally again and Kusakabe acts quick on instinct, quickly seizing and immobilizing the fish with both hands until it completely stops moving. Eyes still wide from surprise and emotion turn towards you “It’s...it’s a tuna...” His face transforms and the biggest smile you have ever seen on him forms on his lips and reaches up to his eyes, face blazing with the light of the sheer joy he’s experiencing.

“IT’S A TUNA!”

His smile hits you in the best possible way, astounded by the fact you have never seen him smiling like that. Your heart seems to physically enlarge by the amount of love you’re feeling that exact moment: able to witness him like this, with no other preoccupation than to prepare the portable fridge with all the ice cubes in it, you feel blessed. This is his Domain, where he is the most comfortable, where he doesn’t have to fear for his life, and where you are now included as well.

Turning on his feet, he closes the short distance between the two of you and big, muscular arms, toned by years of katana training, sweep you up from your feet in a sudden motion like you weight nothing. Your arms find their way around his neck and you both giggle uncontrollably like idiots, his excitement and happiness being immediately mirrored by your own. Kusakabe swings you around a couple of times, before putting you back on the ground, his smile still shining bright. One of his hands intertwine with yours and he gives you a peck on your forehead.

“I’ll treat us with some Torotaku-maki tonight”