#I’m terrible awful at articulating my feelings but I just feel like I’ve been grasping at straws for Latino rep my whole life and now!!

[captains-price]

I’m having a lot of feelings about it tonight so I just have to say as a Mexican person, it means so goddamn much to me that a Mexican man was cast to play as Luffy in the live action One Piece

And not only that but Taz Skylar being Spanish and playing my favorite character Sanji feels like the biggest treat in the world to me and there’s so many videos of Taz and Iñaki speaking in Spanish to each other and it feels so natural and wonderful and damn do I just love being Hispanic

Los amos a todos!!

[luaspersona]

[sounds of glass shattering] [screams fading in the background] [people running around desperately] [compulsive adult tears] [scandalous baby tears] [heart-clenching and coma inducing trauma]

*deep breaths*

every DAMN time i read something of your i feel like going to you regardless of place and time and just kick my feet and cry and scream and punch the air in front of you to try and make you grasp an ounce, a SMALL PORTION of just how much your writing affects me. i’ve told you this before and i’ll tell you again, you’re the queen of angst and i’m nothing but your mere subject (leia súdito). there’s not a single time you fail to elicit the most guttural reactions out of me, and this time was NO different, so buckle up ‘cus i’ll comment every little thing

let’s start with the repetition.

When he was 8 years old, since he was too young to properly hunt for food, Jungkook was only taught how to make an animal trap. Despite his best efforts, he could never make it right. Jungkook failed.  When he was 12, both Jimin and Namjoon tried to teach him how to use a bow and an arrow. But even after months of practicing, his aim was terrible. He couldn’t do it. Jungkook failed.  At 15, Jungkook was tasked with putting down his injured horse. And, even though he knew the animal would die anyway, he walked away from it and begged Namjoon to do the mercy-kill instead. Jungkook failed.  Four years later, at what would’ve been his first mission - an ambush for a raucous vampire - Jungkook got so anxious about it that he threw up for hours. Namjoon took Jungkook out of the mission. He failed again.

i’m a big advocate for repetition when done properly and this is just an amazing example of such skilled use. the way you set up this jungkook to be a person that simply cannot deal with violence or articulate anything harmful on any level is just so interesting and though he can’t set a trap for his life, you sure as fuck can cus omg i was hooked 

…

(sorry)

but i just really love the information that’s laid out here. i love smart exposition and the decision to reveal some backstory through the lens of his relationship with violence is so so creative and it shows the reader that first: jungkook is a softie harmless bean; second: violence is the default language of the world he lives in; third: violence is expected of him; fourth: he was raised, to some extent, by (mostly) namjoon and i just feel so ughh 😠🔪

[sounds of glass shattering] [screams fading in the background] [people running around desperately] [compulsive adult tears] [scandalous baby tears] [heart-clenching and coma inducing trauma]

and the way you smoothly transition from the past conducted repetition to the present is also really nice so i want to point it out:

Now, he has another fail to add to his life, because no matter how many times he hears your explanation, he simply cannot skip a damned rock. The awful thing only sinks with a loud splash.

also not jungkook edwarding here:

Jungkook lead you out of the city, down the river and towards the forest.

another thing that happens a lot throughout this fic (and i’ve noticed in a lot of your stories in general) is the way you juxtapose things and elicit tension. for example:

Except, of course, for those looking for a little privacy. And privacy is exactly what Jungkook needs if he’s going to get any information out of you.

this escapade would naturally be associated with something romantic, the intimacy of a couple seeking refuge — but jungkook seeks it to find information, corrupting this image of romance. it’s always juxtaposed: romantic expression x ulterior motives. idealization and romantic themes versus death and deception. it’s SO SOUL CRUSHING I LOVE IT

another example of said tensions can be found right after:

And he knows he shouldn’t think so, but you look absolutely stunning right now. Your once pretty dress is now ruined with mud all over the hem and some on your sleeves too. But what’s really killing him is how the wet light fabric clings to your skin, letting him see your curves very clearly. A few drops of water drip down your face past your beautiful lips, down your collarbones and dip into your cleavage. It’s really a test for him to not keep following that drop of water with his eyes. With his lips.  God, he needs you to be as far away from him as possible.

like omg let the boy THIRST

the whole concept of being her lover and berating himself for finding her pretty, the desire, the temptation that surrounds her and how much he wants to be as close as possible but the farthest away at the same time. this is good.

also lmao:

“Maybe I need more attentive lessons, my lady. It’s very hard to properly understand the movement with you so far away.”  Damn. He tried. 

and thirst he did

and i also wanna talk about how jungkook’s such a complex character and how much i just wanna cry whenever we get a snippet of his feelings and how painful and conflicted he feels to be so attracted to something he was taught only to fear, and you write it in such interesting and heartbreaking way, how he fights it only to go on and try to reason, make sense of it in some way:

“We did it, then”, you say firmly and he relents. Because he always does it with you. Especially when you are like this, chest to chest and noses brushing against each others’ in a slow caress. He could almost swear he even feels your own breath tickling his mouth, despite him knowing it’s probably only his own or maybe the wind. Jungkook tries not to think about it too much, but he knows it must be a weakness of his that he simply doesn’t care to figure out if it really is the wind he’s feeling. Not now. But, well, that’s his mission, isn’t it? Getting close to you, getting you to trust him. He can’t do that properly if he’s interrogating you if you’re breathing or not.

[sounds of glass shattering] [screams fading in the background] [people running around desperately] [compulsive adult tears] [scandalous baby tears] [heart-clenching and coma inducing trauma]

“It was”, Jungkook holds your waist “You know, my lady,  seeing how successful this endeavor was, perhaps we should look for more activities to do together.” You give him a bright smile and Jungkook sees your eyes twinkle with mischievousness.

jungkook: it’s only for the mission, i will focus just as namjoon said

also jungkook: how about we fuck

In response, he holds your face in his hands and angles your head, giving him a better position to kiss you more deeply. The hand you still have on his waist slides down and squeezes his ass, and Jungkook’s hip presses against your body, resulting in a moan from both of you.

safados!

and omg this part here

“Proper ladies should always speak clearly if they want to have their desires heard”, he teases.

………….. girl i was silenced🧍🏽‍♀️

also this part:

The beast stands still, looking at the both of you. After a moment, it starts walking, circling around you but keeping it’s distance. 

not jacob cockblocking people AGAIN, s2g this man has no life

ok, going back to the serious analysis again, let’s bring BACK the repetition cus here:

Truly, the wolf makes no move to come closer. It doesn’t even assume an agressive stance. It simply seems to be avaluating what’s in front of him. Jungkook thinks that what he and the wolf are doing is bizardly the same thing. Both analysing the risks of attacking first or letting your opponent choose for you. Strike first, strike true. Namjoon’s words ring in his mind. Still, Jungkook doesn’t move. He doesn’t move. And he can’t help but feel like he’s at the edge of another failure. 

here we see all those themes resurface so they can be challenged. jungkook is a man who has known nothing but violence, but has never been able to reproduce the circle – he hesitates, he fails, and here, he even sees that default response being challenged by the reader, which is yet another juxtaposition: a vampire, a creature that he was taught as being vile and moved by its killing thrist, questions and ultimately rejects violence. it’s an unnatural movement, just as jungkook, a kid who was nothing but sweet and kind, acts unnaturally by being violent. she breaks the cycle!

You leave your position behind him, “Even predators have families.”

yes queen! speak your truth.

also why is that something yoongi would 100% undoubtedly say:

“You cannot imagine my relief to see I am not an unwilling witness of an improper act.”

btw i really loved yoongi’s intro here. the way you describe him as this ethereal, mesmerizing and charming creature, the way you word the weight of time on his eyes is just beautiful, really.

You two turn to see a man standing among the trees, clearly coming from the town. The man is beautiful, his fair skin being gently touched by sun beams, his raven hair framing his ethereal face like a curtain of shadows. Clad in fine black garments decorated with gold and wearing recently-greased black boots. The appearance of a man who has never worked the land, and never will. His feline eyes righ with a weight that only comes with age, age far greater than what he appears to be. The man exudes grace and refinement, an alluring aura coming off him that Jungkook’s only experienced once before. With you. He needs no more information to deduce who this man is. Your family. 

this part here:

[...] She seemed to think she’d be lashed for allowing her lady to disappear while in her care, as it was custom in some of these parts.” 

feels like another contradiction in the sense of associating vampires with a fair, humane treatment of their employees, while yoongi implies that humans aren’t so considerate. so you keep breaking those expectations we make, especially as we look at everything through jungkook’s corrupted and prejudiced eyes, who questions if the maid was truly spared. 

also why is the final paragraph so funny, i cant 😭😭

Dinner. At your house. With your family. Your vampire family. Jungkook decides not to ask about the menu. As Yoongi said, he’ll see for himself.

ok, so! you know how much i love your writing. i love how you suck us in (pun very much intended), how well thought and crafted each sentence feels.you articulate themes and tools with such skill and intention that reading from you is always rewarding. i can’t WAIT to see more of those characters, to continue to follow jungkook’s conflict of realizing what he’s been told all his life simply cannot be applied to the reader.

thank you for being PERFECT, i love u, sorry for taking forever

“Thus with a kiss, I die.” - William Shakespeare (pt. 2)

pairing: vampire hunter!jk X vampire!reader 

genre: fantasy!au, historical!au, forbidden/secret relationship!au, angst, smut

warnings: mentions of murder/death, mentions of lashing

summary: as the Easter Sunday’s festivities begin, jungkook can no longer delay the inevitable. with his parents’ deaths weighing his heart down and the locket you gave him weighing on his neck, he’s about to find out if blood really is thicker than water.

author’s note: hi, sorry for the delay, i know it takes me very long to come out with all the parts. so i decided to make them shorter so i can post them earlier. i definitely have a 3rd part fully planned and maybe, depending on how the fic is received, a 4rth part - that now is just a vague idea in my mind. comments are always appreciated!

words: +2.7k 

taglist: @luaspersona @cuntessaiii @kookpeas

part 1 || main masterlist

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When he was 8 years old, since he was too young to properly hunt for food, Jungkook was only taught how to make an animal trap. Despite his best efforts, he could never make it right. Jungkook failed. 

When he was 12, both Jimin and Namjoon tried to teach him how to use a bow and an arrow. But even after months of practicing, his aim was terrible. He couldn’t do it. Jungkook failed. 

At 15, Jungkook was tasked with putting down his injured horse. And, even though he knew the animal would die anyway, he walked away from it and begged Namjoon to do the mercy-kill instead. Jungkook failed. 

Four years later, at what would’ve been his first mission - an ambush for a raucous vampire - Jungkook got so anxious about it that he threw up for hours. Namjoon took Jungkook out of the mission. He failed again.   

Now, he has another fail to add to his life, because no matter how many times he hears your explanation, he simply cannot skip a damned rock. The awful thing only sinks with a loud splash. 

“I told you to flick your wrist, Jungkook”, you say laughing at him.

“But I did! I flicked it!” His defense is met with more laughter from you. 

Unsurprisingly, Jungkook’s managed to convince you to go on a little escapade with him again. This time he took advantage of the fact you were already out with your maid at a trade fair near the city limits. All he had to do was take your hand and tell you to run. You were very cooperative. In no time, you two got lost in the crowd, leaving your poor, frantic maid behind.

Jungkook lead you out of the city, down the river and towards the forest. You stopped when you finally reached your usual place: an area where the river is larger and calmer, forming a small lake. Although not exactly a secret place, as anyone who followed the river could reach it, the fact that the next closest and bigger city was in the opposite direction allowed this little area to remain almost forgotten. Except, of course, for those looking for a little privacy. And privacy is exactly what Jungkook needs if he’s going to get any information out of you. 

“There’s a difference between flicking and turning, darling”, you tell him. 

And he knows he shouldn’t think so, but you look absolutely stunning right now. Your once pretty dress is now ruined with mud all over the hem and some on your sleeves too. But what’s really killing him is how the wet light fabric clings to your skin, letting him see your curves very clearly. A few drops of water drip down your face past your beautiful lips, down your collarbones and dip into your cleavage. It’s really a test for him to not keep following that drop of water with his eyes. With his lips. 

God, he needs you to be as far away from him as possible.

“Maybe I need more attentive lessons, my lady. It’s very hard to properly understand the movement with you so far away.” 

Damn. He tried. 

You come to his side, smiling just as bright as the sun above your heads. Your giggles blending with the lively sounds of the forest. 

“More attentive lessons, you say?”

You position yourself behind him and Jungkook feels you pressing yourself against his back. Your left arm hugging his waist while your right hand caresses him from his upper arm down to his hand, where you place another flat rock. With your chin on his shoulder, lips brushing his ear you tell him:

“Shall we try again?”

Jungkook lets out a breath, he feels shivers down his spine and almost rolls his eyes out of pleasure. You really are going to kill him.

He lets out a breathy “yes” and you begin pulling his arm back, putting a little bit of pressure on his wrist. Jungkook follows along and lets you move his body. When you swing his arm forward, you flick your wrist and he lets go of the rock. It skips twice before sinking in the water. 

“Huh”, Jungkook smiles a little.

“See? You did it!”

“You did it, love.”

Jungkook turns around to face you, but makes no further effort to pull away your two bodies or remove your arm from his waist.

“We did it, then”, you say firmly and he relents. Because he always does it with you. Especially when you are like this, chest to chest and noses brushing against each others’ in a slow caress. He could almost swear he even feels your own breath tickling his mouth, despite him knowing it’s probably only his own or maybe the wind. Jungkook tries not to think about it too much, but he knows it must be a weakness of his that he simply doesn’t care to figure out if it really is the wind he’s feeling. Not now. But, well, that’s his mission, isn’t it? Getting close to you, getting you to trust him. He can’t do that properly if he’s interrogating you if you’re breathing or not. 

Yes, Jungkook tells himself, it’s not a weakness. It’s focusing on what needs to be done. Besides, hadn’t Namjoon told him exactly that? Hunters focus on the mission, they focus on what’s in front of them. Right now, you are in front of him, batting your beautiful eyes. “It was a joint effort, both of us, together.”

“It was”, Jungkook holds your waist “You know, my lady,  seeing how successful this endeavor was, perhaps we should look for more activities to do together.” You give him a bright smile and Jungkook sees your eyes twinkle with mischievousness.

“I believe we should. But, oh, poor me, I can’t seem to think of any act other than skipping rocks that would have us joined as we are now.”

Your coyness rips a laugh from him. 

“Hm, I suppose such acts aren’t part of your proper upper class lessons, huh?” 

“They aren’t. Would you be kind enough to show me these kinds of acts, sir?” 

Jungkook nearly moans. He loves it when you talk like that, loves the way you’re always so ready to give him whatever he asks of you. You lift your chin slightly, lips pouting and your batting eyes glimpse at his mouth, he leans towards you and gives you a sweet kiss, tasting the berries the two of you shared earlier on your lips. When he slightly pulls away, you let out a whiny moan that has Jungkook smirking. 

In response, he holds your face in his hands and angles your head, giving him a better position to kiss you more deeply. The hand you still have on his waist slides down and squeezes his ass, and Jungkook’s hip presses against your body, resulting in a moan from both of you.

More. Jungkook wants more. No, he needs more. He unceremoniously entangles his hand into your silky soft hair, he pulls strands of it out of your careful updo until he has a fistful of hair. When Jungkook yanks it back, your head goes backwards with it and you let out a lustful hiss that goes straight to his hardening dick and sends shivers down his spine. 

In his eyes, you’re always beautiful, but Jungkook thinks you look even more so like this - head thrown back, unfocused eyes heavy with desire, messy hair, and, most of all, that mouth of yours open just begging to be shut up by his own. 

“Jungkook”, you moan. 

Oh, he loves that too, your breathy moanings of his name. That might be his favorite thing of it all, in fact. 

“Proper ladies should always speak clearly if they want to have their desires heard”, he teases.

After swallowing hard, you gather yourself together enough to bite back. “Proper gentlemen should never point out a lady’s lack of etiquette.” Jungkook smiles “They should never deny a lady of what her heart desires most either.”

“Then tell me, my lady, what is it that your heart desires most at the moment?”

You bite your lower lip for a second, before looking behind him. Your lips form a deliciously wicked smile and your hands grab the hem of his shirt.

“Do you know how to swim?”  1.3k

One quick lustful glance at you and Jungkook doesn’t even bother vocalizing an answer. He reaches for the back of your dress, eager and ready to rip this cage off your beautiful body when a sound of ruffling leaves and heavy feet break through. On instinct, Jungkook pushes himself away from you, who lets out a surprised gasp.  The silver dagger Jungkook keeps hidden on his back appears in his hand as he positions his body between you and the sound, assuming a defensive stance. His mind is now far gone from the lewd acts you’d implied and, instead, countless hours of Namjoon’s teachings go through it in a rapid sequence. 

 and Jungkook curses himself. Had he not been so “preoccupied” with you, he could’ve heard and seen the wolf from further away and not let it get so close. 

The beast stands still, looking at the both of you. After a moment, it starts walking, circling around you but keeping it’s distance. 

Jungkook begins to move towards the wolf, dagger in hand, but…

“No”, you say. You put one of your hands on his arm that has the dagger. 

“Y/N, it’s a wolf.”

“It’s not doing anything.”

Truly, the wolf makes no move to come closer. It doesn’t even assume an agressive stance. It simply seems to be avaluating what’s in front of him. Jungkook thinks that what he and the wolf are doing is bizardly the same thing. Both analysing the risks of attacking first or letting your opponent choose for you. Strike first, strike true. Namjoon’s words ring in his mind. Still, Jungkook doesn’t move. He doesn’t move. And he can’t help but feel like he’s at the edge of another failure. 

“It’s a wolf” he repeats “it could kills us tomorrow or just as we turn around.”

“Then you can defend yourself tomorrow. Or when we turn around” You force him to lower his dagger with your hand. And he has half a mind to notice that, were you any other girl, his hand wouldn’t eve budge from the stance. But you don’t have the strength any other girl has. 

The lowered dagger seems to the wolf to be enough of a sign that you won’t hurt it. It looks back and a baby cub trots to it’s side. Wolf and baby cub pass you and begin swimming across the lake. 

You leave your position behind him, “Even predators have families.”

Jungkook looks at you wordlessly. There’s a different look in your eyes, one he can’t quite recognized. He’s seen you look at him with happiness, michieviousness, coyness - fake and real -, but never 

A big gray wolf jumps over a fallen trunk, landing mere feet away from you and Jungkook curses himself. Had he not been so…preoccupied with you, he would’ve heard and seen the wolf from further away, keeping it from getting so close.  

The beast stands still, looking at the both of you. After a moment, it quietly begins to walk around you keeping its distance. 

Jungkook means to move towards the wolf, dagger in hand.

“No”, you put your hand over his. 

“Y/N, it’s a wolf.” 

“It’s not doing anything.” 

True. The beast makes no move to come closer. It doesn’t even assume an aggressive stance. Seems more like it’s analyzing what’s in front of it, and Jungkook thinks it’s not very different from what he himself is doing. Both thinking of the risks between attacking first or letting your opponent choose for you. Strike first, strike hard, strike true. Namjoon’s words ring in his mind. Still, Jungkook doesn't move. And he can’t help but feel like he’s at the edge of another failure. 

“It’s a wolf” he repeats “It could kill us tomorrow or as soon as we turn our backs.”

“Then you can defend yourself tomorrow or when we turn our backs.” You force his hand to lower the dagger. And he has half a mind to note that, had you been any other girl, his hand wouldn’t budge. Any other girl wouldn’t be strong enough. 

The lowered dagger seems to be enough of a sign to the wolf that neither of you will do it harm. The beast grunts at something still behind the trees and a baby cub emerges to join at its side. Wolf and cub pass you and begin swimming across the lake.

You leave your position behind Jungkook to tell him “Even predators have families.”

When he looks at you, he doesn’t really know how to act. He’s seen you look at him with happiness, michievousness, coyness - fake and real -, but this look…he doesn’t know what to make of it, only that he doesn’t like it. He glances again at the lake, and Jungkook knows that whatever thoughts either of you had concerning that lake are long gone now. 

Silence falls between you while Jungkook makes a point to not look your way. From his peripheral vision, he sees you opening your mouth. Whatever it was you were going to say, he’ll never know. Because before you can say it, another voice breaks through the woods. And it’s not lost on Jungkook that that would be the second time today he doesn’t notice something approaching because he’s too stuck thinking of you. 

“You cannot imagine my relief to see I am not an unwilling witness of an improper act.”

You two turn to see a man standing among the trees, clearly coming from the town. The man is beautiful, his fair skin being gently touched by sun beams, his raven hair framing his ethereal face like a curtain of shadows. Clad in fine black garments decorated with gold and wearing recently-greased black boots. The appearance of a man who has never worked the land, and never will. His feline eyes righ with a weight that only comes with age, age far greater than what he appears to be. The man exudes grace and refinement, an alluring aura coming off him that Jungkook’s only experienced once before. With you. He needs no more information to deduce who this man is. Your family. 

“Yoongi”, you say. 

Yoongi. Ah, Jungkook knows this name. He recalls the information he’s gathered about him. A musical prodigy whose rumors tell was orphaned when he was a teenager. Since then, he’s been living with your family and all of you have been profiting off his gifts. You’ve been to several cities, going to wherever Yoongi’s most recent and generous patrons comission him to go. 

“I believe Seokjin will be equally happy to find that out”, he steps closer to you “Though, if that happiness will quench his desperation to learn from your maid that you had been, seemingly, kidnapped “ Jungkook sees you shrink with the scolding “remains to be seen.” 

Seokjin. One more name. Your older brother, head of your family. A sharp mind that has managed to triplicate whatever money Yoongi got for his talent.

Yoongi continues “If it’s any of your concern, Mina was frantic. The poor girl nearly threw up. She seemed to think she’d be lashed for allowing her lady to disappear while in her care, as it was custom in some of these parts.” 

At that, your eyes widen “Yoongi, we didn’t mean to…”

“Please, we’re well aware there’s no need to waste my time…or your breath, cousin, with your explanations. Not when I’m not the one you need to convince.” 

A tense silence settles between you all. 

“So, she wasn't, then?” It’s Jungkook who first breaks it. Yoongi turns to him with the same expressionless face he’s been keeping the whole interaction. “Lashed, I mean. The maid.”

The man’s face betrays no emotion. “I suppose you’ll see for yourself.” Jungkook can only frown as Yoongi continues “My cousin, Lord Kim, has the pleasure to host you for a lovely feast tonight at his estate. Follow me.” The last phrase an order, not a request. Just as the invitation for dinner was an order, too. 

Dinner. At your house. With your family. Your vampire family. Jungkook decides not to ask about the menu. As Yoongi said, he’ll see for himself.

[insomniac-dot-ink]

My Afternoon With a Corpse

I was falling to pieces quite beautifully I might say when she made her way over the hill. She had a pale face the color of paste and ashen as a forest after the flames. She had to be only nine or ten, though you never know with people walking in from the past. They always were a bit smaller back then.

The biggest way I could tell she was dead besides the grey skin and the bruises under her little eyes was the way she walked. She strode like a very inebriated elementary school student, all knees and dragging her toes and swaying back and forth as she made her way over the hill.

I was sitting in a graveyard so I don’t know what I expected. I peaked over the top of the pages of my book as she drew ever-closer.

“I’m not your mother,” I snapped at the creature since I had been a governess to enough children as it was.

She lumbered and teetered and slowly made her way toward the bench I was sitting on. She was wearing a very fine blue dress with a pink bow tied in the back and little black shoes. Her parents had probably been wealthy enough to bury her in that, the posh bastards.

“I have nothing for you.” I articulated and tried to turn away.

She took a seat next to me on the bench. I noted how her little nails were covered in dirt and splinters. I wrinkled my nose and she settled beside me.

“Took the nasty way out I take it?” I said conversationally, though by then I had a feeling her tongue had rotted in her mouth and she wouldn’t say anything to me.

She turned to me with her blurry-wide eyes and I stood up with a jerk. I snapped my book shut, “I come here to be alone, little cretin.” I sniffed loudly and turned away, “as I said, I have nothing to offer you.”

I got up and moved to the next bench under two large beech trees on the outskirts of the graveyard. It was a fine day in March with the winter chill barely a memory on the land and the earth soft and almost mud under my shoes as I moved.

The little girl heavily picked herself up and took her time plodding all the way over to my new bench. My eyebrow twitched and I huffed, “I was just fired you know. Fired from my job. Do you know how inconsiderate it is to bother people who have just had major life events?”

She was only 9 or 10 so she obviously did not grasp this concept. She just stared at me expectantly.

“Fine,” I opened my book a crack, “but I’m only doing a chapter or two and then you have to move on. And I’m not doing any voices.” I promised.

She continued to stare and I cleared my throat.

“This is Virginia Woolf, one of the greats,” I continued, “so mind yourself. I won’t tolerate any tongue-wagging at this point.” I smirked at my private little joke at the corpse’s expense.

I chose a fitting story to read her.

“Moths that fly by day are not properly to be called moths; they do not excite that pleasant sense of dark autumn nights…” She watched in awe as I got to my favorite parts. It was rather nice to have a captive audience, “nothing, I knew, had any chance against death…” I read that line and then flicked my eyes over to the corpse. “Except you I suppose. You are quite the abomination.” I said before continuing the story.

I closed the book when we got to the end and the sun was slanting sideways across the sky and I sighed heavily. It wasn’t exactly the ideal atmosphere for the dead to be walking. There was too much sunlight and bright skies in the favor of joy and frivolous things.

I put my book in my bag, “Was that enough?” I asked as I stood and the creature scrambled to get down and take a place by my side. We stared at each other for a full minute before I relented. “Oh alright.”

I put my hand out and she took it just as she would have in life. Her skin was bone-cold and the flesh was terribly soft and loose. I cringed and bit down on my cheek, “I hope someone loved you dearly in life.” She said nothing, “because I’m not doing anything more for you.”

I walked her stiffly right back over the hill where a squirrel skittered out of the way like a train was barreling toward him. He ran zig-zag away from me and the abomination.

She followed me like a docile lamb down the hill until I spotted dirt piled up around an enormous hole. I didn’t pull her toward it or drag us there, but I veered our path toward the open grave.

“The authorities will be looking for something like you.” I said neatly. “They’ll want to see if there’s an infection in this graveyard. Probably feed your bits to a holy fire or what have you,” I glanced over at her, “are you prepared for that?”

She took her strange, ungainly steps and I sighed. “Yes. Fine. I’ve crossed worse people before anyway.”

I took her gently toward the open grave that she had desperately scratched and dug her way out of. Her wide eyes became even wider and she edged behind me as we approached it.

“Be a brave girl now,” I chastised but studied her worn gravestone. “MaryAnne.”

She had only been nine when she died over two decades earlier. I turned toward her as she hid behind my skirts. “Don’t be difficult,” I said as I did to all the children I taught. “It’s only eternity and we all have to do it.”

She glanced up and shook her head. Her dull brown curls bounced as she did.

I studied her for a moment and considered forcing her back down into her resting place. My eyebrow twitched. “Goddammit,” I took a seat on the mushy ground that would probably stain my skirts. “I won’t wait forever though.”

I let go of the little girl's hand and she quickly inched away from the grave. I took out my book and set my mouth into a furious frown as I started to read again. I pretended not to watch her.

The little thing ran sloppily back and forth across the wet grass. She chased the animals which fled from her with wild fear beating in their tiny hearts. She spun around in lopsided circles and seemed to stare at the sun for at least an hour.

I was meant to take the 4pm train back to my little house and write a very strongly worded letter to the Denise's for firing me. I stayed in the grass instead.

The sun was kissing the treetops when the little girl came back to me. She was holding something between her ruined fingers and I put out my hands. “Give it here.”

She offered a large brown moth. It was still twitching and alive, but she held it ever so softly between her dirt-covered hands.

“So you have been listening.” I tried to catch her eyes. “Then you know what you have to do.”

She handed me the moth and I quietly pushed it back into the sky where it flapped once, twice, and fluttered off to probably go tell its colony-mates that it had the worst possible day.

I bent forward and kissed her on the forehead. “It’s late.” I said. “And isn’t one afternoon enough?”

She took my hand again and I laced our fingers together. I guided her toward the gaping wound in the earth. “I know it’s not fair.” I muttered, “but few things in life,” I eyed her, “or death, are.”

She was still staring up at me and we took another moment to clear off the splinters and torn pieces of wood in the hole before I positioned her in front of her broken casket again. There was a shattered bottle nearby where I assumed someone had poured the virus elixir on her grave.

Perhaps it was a prank or a body-snatching scheme or some drunken hijinks where they hadn’t been patient enough to stick around and dig her up later.

“Stupid.” I shook my head, “Adults can be so stupid, MarryAnne.” I bent down toward her. “It’ll be over soon.” I crooned, “and comfortable again…”

She nodded and I slipped my hands under her armpits and gently lowered her into the hole. She lay back down in the velvet bed and closed her eyes as the sun set. I huffed. “Someone loved you dearly.” I watched as the virus was finished with her spirit and what was left of her body. “Don’t think that didn’t mean something for your short time up here. Even if it was… too short.” I pretended my voice didn’t break on the last words.

I spent the rest of that evening pushing and digging and filling the hole back up with dirt. I couldn’t bear to look at her small face again after the sunset. I just knew I saw a moth crossing the moon as it rose and I had to take a break to find my handkerchief.

I wasn’t weeping over one dead child of course. You would spend the rest of your life weeping if you were going to mourn each one.

But her name was MarryAnne and she had gotten one last afternoon in the sun. I heaved dirt back onto her with my bare hands and went home aching and filthy and with people openly staring at me as I passed.

I would never be a governess or teacher again after that night. But I did visit a small grave from long ago and read a story about a moth to it each year after that.

————-

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[loveforpreserumsteve]

The Chilling Adventures of Steve Rogers: Part One (Magical Hydra Horror AU)

Sixty-Seven:

Slowly, Bucky came back to himself. Starting with fingers gently carding through his hair, soothing him. The images that flashed through his mind twisted his stomach. Luckily, they were just a nightmare. Right? There was no way that Bucky had actually done those things. It just didn't make any sense. There was simply no way to explain it, other than to call it a nightmare. The way that his loved ones looked at him when he did all those awful --

"You're thinking too much," Steve whispered and pressed a kiss to his forehead.

In relief, Bucky sighed. Realizing that he was cuddling Steve, Bucky nuzzled even closer. Burying his face into Steve's chest, Bucky wrapped his arms around Steve's slender frame. Only, it wasn't right.

Brows furrowing even more, Bucky pulled back. Opening his eyes, Bucky squinted against the dim light and suspiciously at his boyfriend. Frankly, there was no way that Steve should look the way he currently did. It just didn't compute with what Bucky knew about the universe and how things worked.

"I'm still dreaming," Bucky groggily assumed. Drooping back into his cozy bed, Bucky allowed himself to snuggle up to this version of the love of his life. The version that Steve had always wanted to be.

"You're not dreaming," Steve corrected. His hand pausing from running his fingers comfortingly through Bucky's messy hair. Swallowing thickly, Steve hesitated for a moment before starting, "Buck? We… gotta talk."

At that any fatigue that remained disappeared entirely. We gotta talk, was one of the worst phrases in Bucky's opinion. It never led to anything good. Well, except for the time that Bucky admitted his feelings for Steve to the boy, himself. But this was different. It was all in Steve's tone.

Sitting up, Bucky kept his gaze leveled with Steve's and repeated, "We gotta talk?"

Steve nodded his confirmation, causing Bucky's mind to spiral. What could he need to talk about? Flashes of what Bucky thought was a nightmare developed in his mind. Like polaroid snapshots of the worst things Bucky could ever imagine.

Remorsefully, Bucky reasoned, "Because of… because of… what I, uh… did…?"

"No," Steve quickly reassured. Cupping Bucky's face in his large hand, Bucky took comfort in knowing that at least Steve's hands were still the same as they had been. Now they just fit the rest of his body. Steve stroked Bucky's cheek and clarified, "You didn't do anything. That wasn't you. And don't worry, once they broke free, Uncle Loki and Uncle Thor took care of everything. Azazel might've crushed Sam's windpipe, but luckily, Hildy found us. She managed to fix him right up."

"Jesus, Stevie," Bucky sighed in relief. He would've felt like shit if he had truly killed Sam. And perhaps Bucky should've worried a bit more about how Sam was going to feel about his best friend being possessed and strangling him, come Monday morning, but his eyes roamed over Steve's new body. His brows furrowed further, "What the hell happened?"

"Remember what I told you?" Steve prompted, licking over his lip as he gathered his thoughts.

Remember what I told you? Bucky paused before answering. A lot had happened in such a short amount of time. He remembered the Carter house. The wine cabinet. How bad energy radiated off of it like heat. Dark, terrifying images filled his head, giving him a headache. Then…

"You're a, uh, a --"

"Witch," Steve admitted. "Well, half-witch. My dad is mortal. My mom's bloodline though…"

Bucky rigidly sat back against his headboard. Not sure what to think anymore. Especially not once everything seemed to fall into place. The way Thor and Loki spoke about history like they were there. Why the cats seemed more coherent than others. How Hildy knew answers to questions that he hadn't spoken aloud. It all led to one thing: magic.

"So, that, um," Bucky articulated.

There was so much that Bucky didn't know, but wanted to. His questions all swam together and muddled his brain. Maybe it was because of the possession and the stress, but Bucky couldn't concentrate on anything in particular.

"Means, what, exactly?" Bucky attempted again. More sense than before, at least.

"Well," Steve sighed, dropping his hand from Bucky's face, and taking his hand instead. Holding one of Bucky's hands in both of his, Steve kept his gaze down.

Something definitely wasn't right.

"Stevie?"

Steve worried his lower lip with his teeth for a beat longer and finally confessed, "I'm transferring schools. Permanently."

"Oh." Trying to save face, Bucky grasped at straws. Trying to make the best out of a seemingly terrible situation, "We can still see each other on the weekends. And… and…"

Clenching his jaw tightly, Steve sat there for a moment just looking at Bucky. Bucky knew that expression all too well. It was the look that Steve had before he got involved in a fight that he had no business in being in. It was the look of trying not to cry at school for being teased. A look of control. Of being emotional and trying not to be.

Lip quivering regardless, Steve suggested, "I think we should take a break."

"What? Why?" Bucky shook his head. This didn't make any sense. Out of everything that didn't make sense, this made the least amount. "No, Steve. That -- No. Why? Because you're going to another school? That's --"

"No," Steve chose to hold Bucky's face again. A tear fell down, rolling over Steve's cheek, but he didn't dare remove one of his hands to wipe it away. He just kept holding Bucky as he explained, "I've got a lot of stuff to figure out, and I don't want you to be mixed up in --"

"What if I want to be mixed up in it?" Bucky sniffled.

Steve shook his head and reasoned, "I'd hate to do that to ya."

"But we --"

"This doesn't mean that I don't love you," Steve said before Bucky could get the accusation out. It still left a bad taste in Bucky's mouth though. Steve wiped Bucky's escaped tears, "I love you, so, so much."

"But," Bucky prompted, hearing it in Steve's steady breathing even if the word itself hadn't left his mouth.

"But," Steve confirmed, "This is what's best. For now. Just until I can figure things out."

Although Bucky's heart was breaking, he knew better than to argue. He'd do anything for Steve. Even listening to his ridiculous request. Nodding, Bucky agreed to his own demise and licked the saltiness from his tears off his lips, "Okay."

Steve nodded too. Seemingly debating something before leaning forward and kissing Bucky's forehead. Affectionately pressing his lips to Bucky's skin caused Bucky to close his eyes and more tears to escape.

"I do love you, Buck," Steve assured, pulling back, "I always will."

Bucky sniffled and held up his hand, "Promise?"

A small smile tugged at Steve's lips. Hooking his pinky with Bucky's extended one, Steve pledged, "Promise."

Steve pressed a kiss to the back of Bucky's hand and climbed off Bucky's bed. As he crossed the room to leave, he wiped his face, and Bucky couldn't let that be their last kiss for their foreseeable future. So, he climbed off his bed too and bullshitted, "I hear a deal doesn't count unless you seal it with a kiss."

A tiny chuckle startled out of Steve as he teased, "I think you've watched too much, Supernatural."

"Maybe," Bucky conceded, challenging, "You gonna seal the deal, or --"

Surging forward, Steve kissed Bucky, cutting off Bucky's teasing completely. Sure, the height difference was throwing Bucky through a loop, but he didn't mind. He snaked his arms around Steve's newer, stronger torso and held him tight. While Steve tangled his fingers in Bucky's hair, Bucky let out a soft moan, giving Steve enough of an entrance to slip him the tongue.

Bucky wasn't sure how long they stood there kissing, but when they pulled away to catch their breath, Bucky believed Steve when he vowed, "Promise."

To be continued…

[taotrooper]

Green thumb

Hey @adragonisburnttree​, it’s your @akayonagiftexchange​ Secret Santa! In the end I managed to get time and inspiration to have your present on time. I hope you enjoy it.

Title: Green thumb (AO3 version) Characters: Zeno, Kaya Ship: see above Genre: ye olde fluff Summary: Based in this little addition from the OAD. Zeno praises Kaya’s skills with plants and distracts her from her work in terrible ways. Sometimes calluses can be better than having none, he believes.

She put the radish on the basket with the other collected vegetables, pensive. "But I'm glad they're healthy, you know. I'm glad that plants don't get the same diseases than humans..."

"Kaya..."

She started to shake and make what seemed like sobbing-like sounds. But when he moved closer to give her a hug, he saw that she was snorting.

"Kaya...?"

"I-I imagined... a tree coughing...!" Giggles.

Zeno came back from the river, his fingertips wrinkled for a fleeting moment as if only they had caught up with the weight of time that avoided his body. The sleeves of his tunic were still rolled up and he hadn't cared to unfold them yet. It was a good day for laundry, as the skies were clear and the sun shined bright on the forest, on the line where the wet clothes were hung, on the golden hair.

On his way back to the hut, he saw Kaya knelt on the ground, working hard. Silently he sneaked behind her back, and he bit his lip while he covered her eyes with the palm of his hands. She shuddered from the surprise and the coldness of his wet hands, but the reaction was gone immediately, replaced by a smile.

"Zeno," Kaya said. The name said in her voice was like the song of a bird: music to his ears.

"Aw, you guessed again!" He moved his hands away, and she looked at him over his shoulder.

"Silly, you're the only person around! And a perfect stranger wouldn't play this game."

"You got me there."

He sat on the sun-kissed ground with his legs crossed, careful not to do it on the crops. He looked at the contents of a basket next to her, then at the girl unearthing a daikon with a strong pull.

"It's so plump!" he said in awe. "They really were ready!"

"Only the radishes and turnips, though. This one's the largest I've ever had!" She grinned with pride. "It's thanks to your boss for giving us seeds."

"But it's thanks to your care that they got to grow so well. You really have a green thumb, Kaya."

She looked at her own hands, confused.

"They're not green. They do look a bit brown with all this earth."

Zeno chuckled. "It's an old expression! Maybe it went out of fashion? It means that someone's good with plants and gardening."

"Oh."

"So yeah, you're talented." He saw her blushing. "I almost ruined your last harvest when I tried to help, but those were healthy and tasty too."

"It's not that amazing. It's just nature and common knowledge. Everyone in my village knew a little farming for living." She put the radish on the basket with the other collected vegetables, pensive. "But I'm glad they're healthy, you know. I'm glad that plants don't get the same diseases than humans..."

"Kaya..."

She started to shake and make what seemed like sobbing-like sounds. But when he moved closer to give her a hug, he saw that she was snorting.

"Kaya...?"

"I-I imagined... a tree coughing...!" Giggles. "And its leaves... would fall off..." More giggles. "Fruit shaking on its br— bran— branches!"

Well, that sort of fit was much better! Her laugh was contagious so he found himself joining.

"Mommy, weren't we going to eat rice for dinner?" Zeno said in the voice of a child. He then replied with the voice of a woman, with a serious tone. "We can't, son. Our bag of rice has the flu." Kaya laughed, and he continued almost unable to restrain the laughter. "I think it —pfft— caught it from the apricots!"

Both of them howled to the verge of tears.

Oh, how fun it was to be with her. How much he loved her. After he stopped, he glanced at her chortles, at the way she was beaming like the sunshine on their heads. Once she calmed down, he boldly grabbed one of her hands just to hold her, to feel her warmth on his cold fingers.

She quickly removed it from his grasp, which shocked him a bit. They were already married and they had held hands many times already.

"Too chilly? The water wrinkles are almost gone by now."

"No..." She seemed embarrassed. "My hands are all dirty and covered with earth."

"So? Why would I mind that?" He tilted his head. "Our house is on the bare ground, we have dust everywhere. I should know, I just did the laundry."

It took her a few seconds to articulate her thoughts. Zeno waited patiently.

"It's just that... You're so well-traveled, Zeno. You told me you've lived in the capital for a while, right? And I imagine a country girl's hands must be so different to the ladies from the big city."

He was still confused.

"Um, how so? How do you imagine a city girl's hands are like?"

"Dunno, all clean and with long nails and... not callous like mine."

She opened her palms upward, to show them. Again, Zeno saw nothing wrong with them, but he thought he understood where Kaya was coming from.

"Nah, it's not like that for most of them. I mean sure, the high society and noble ladies have cleaner hands. But that's just a little fraction of them, you know? There are poor girls and merchant girls and other many girls who work and get dirty a lot, even if they can't farm?

"And you know, I barely know any people with no calluses. Even those rich ladies have like hobbies and things to do that can cause them." He imitated all actions he started to list with his hands and arms. "Those who write a lot, the brush hurts their fingers. Those who embroider and weave. Those who play music. And some even learn how to use weapons!"

She laughed at the way he pretended to play a string instrument or swing a blade. It seemed her worries were over.

"So you don't think a callus is ugly."

"'Course not. If anything, I was often teased and got called lazy for not having calluses myself!"

He also rose his palms, trying not to dwell on the memories of Guen, Abi or Shuten's puzzlement after Zeno's failed sword training. They wouldn't believe he just couldn't form them. He was obviously not working out hard enough.

He must have seemed too lost in thought regardless, because Kaya immediately shook her head.

"But Zeno is the most hardworking guy I know!" she said passionately. "Don't worry, I'm sure you'll grow your own calluses in no time!"

Zeno let out a bark of a cackle. That would be impossible and he knew it. Kaya's cheeks puffed a little like a squirrel's. She probably thought he was laughing at her.

"No, no, you're right," he lied. He phrased his next words carefully so they had a tinge of truth in them. "When I grow older, when I become an elderly man with gray hair and beard, I'll definitely have my hands much bumpier than Kaya's."

Not like the gods would allow that to happen, but if he ever was lifted of this eternal youth he would be able to get plenty of those. Right?

Kaya reached with her own palms stretched until she touched his, fingertips touching, like a mirror's reflection, like a prayer. Her hands were smaller and yet sturdier. The dirt didn't seem to matter to her anymore. After an instant, or perhaps an era, she slid her fingers slightly and bended them between his fingers. Zeno immediately did the same and their hands were interlaced in front of them. He felt his upper cheek getting warmer under the soft, loving look in her eyes for him.

Time stopped and only their touch and the sunshine felt real.

"I do love your hands as they are as well," Kaya finally whispered. "They're so unbelievable soft and it feels so good to hold them. Your skin is just so smooth and silky."

"You actually like that? Even if it's not manly?"

"I like that, yeah."

Zeno suddenly thought, heart beating fast, that his stupid young skin might not be disgusting after all.

"Well, your calluses make your hands easier to grab. It gives them texture."

She giggled and wiggled hers around to feel things better.

"Oh, hold on. You do have calluses on your fingers! They're tiny little bumps, but they're there!"

"I do? Huh! Must be from when..." When he was young. Before he drank the blood, before he stopped aging. "...From working in the old man's farm, probably."

"Probably!"

"Or my epic sword practice with the Dragon Warriors, maybe." She giggled as if he had told a joke, which it had been even if it was in another sense and she didn't know. To be fair, his skills back then were also considered a joke.

"Yeah, that would leave those calluses!" she laughed.

"Hey now, that's how I got so good with the kitchen knife!"

"Figures. Dragon claws are probably good at slicing everything, even pumpkins and watermelons," she grinned. To be fair, Guen slicing pumpkins would've looked hilarious. He distracted the pang in his heart by taking her hands towards his face, unlacing and placing them over his cheeks, the pink blush of his skin now sporting brown stains. She let them stay for a minute before lowering them down.

"I should finish my harvest before it gets dark," she apologized. "We can be all lovey dovey the rest of the day, okay? And have a good soup tonight!"

"Kaya's so responsible," he nodded and cleaned his face while she kept pulling the vegetables' leaves upwards. She would dust the white root and examine each of them with excitement before dumping them into the basket with little grace, very Kaya-like.

"Sure you don't need help?"

"It's fine. I actually really enjoy doing this! It's fun!"

"Oh, okay. Please have fun. You know," he added after staring for a while and letting his mind wander about how amazing she was, "this kind of callus isn't lower than the callus a rich city girl would get from playing a string instrument. If anything, it's more miraculous. You're creating life, when you put a seed into the ground. And then it grows! You're keeping us alive too, with this food. Even the little pests that came to eat the carrots, those are life." His smile was peaceful. "Your hands bring life, they make things bloom. Why would I not find them beautiful, silly wife?"

She said nothing. Her mouth hanged open while her face turned into a good shade of red. Now that was something he enjoyed doing to her: just leave her speechless or bawling with the best compliments he could come up with. She just looked so cute when she was flustered!

"Z-Zeno..." she finally said.

"What?"

"Please let me work in peace," she begged while hiding her features behind her sleeves.

"Oh, am I too distracting when I say the truth?" he smirked.

She just nodded, without moving her arms. Heh, he had made her accidentally agree that it was all true by not contradicting it.

"Alriiiiiiiight, geez," he got up with no annoyance on his voice whatsoever. He removed the dirt from his trousers and tunic shirt. "This silly husband will leave you alone, by popular demand. Just one last thing before I go inside, though. Can I see one of your hands one last time?"

"Mmmkay, but quick."

She held a shaky hand, not before patting her dirty palm on her kimono a little bit.

Zeno crouched and took it, turned it around, and quickly pecked the back of it with a loud 'mwah' sound.

From behind her other sleeve, she rose her face enough to stare at him, eyes wide open and shiny.

Zeno then let her go, dramatically turned on his heels, and started to walk back home.

"After the delicious fresh soup, we are holding hands again like you promised," he proclaimed. "For a long while. Then hugging and cuddling."

He heard a high-pitched reply coming from behind.

"I-I would like that very much!!"

And leaving that wreck in her mind, he walked forward with a huge grin.