#and most notably... A TORN OPEN NECK.

[habitual-creatures]

*manages to stop coughing, hiding behind where the bathroom door would open, hand's shaking, a poofed scalpel in one behind my back with the other over my mouth*

F̴r̶o̷s̴t̷-̴

(( translation

Frost- ))

[frudoo]

Full Hands Pt. 4

Warnings: Mentions of wanting to have children (i.e. get pregnant, give birth, nurse, etc.)

Full Hands Masterlist

You knew the job was temporary when you took it. You were simply filling in as a nanny for the kids until their family was stable enough for the mother to stay home. You just didn’t expect it to be so soon. The man got a notable promotion at his place of work, and the raise that came with his new position meant that his wife would no longer need to sustain a job. You were happy for them, truly—you could see how she clung to her children in the mornings, the sadness in her smile as she bid you and the kiddos goodbye—but you had grown to love these kids like your own.

Yesterday was your last day, a bittersweet thing. The little miss helped you cook a special breakfast of blueberry pancakes, insisting on mixing the batter. To your surprise, she didn’t spill a drop and even helped hold the bowl for you as you dropped some batter into the pan. The now nine-month-old boy, instead of fussing at you to help him eat, decided to be Mr. Independent and grab the bites of torn-up pancake all on his own. You’d be lying if you said it didn’t hurt, watching these children grow up so quickly only to withdraw from their everyday lives.

Of course, you’d still see them from time to time, either to babysit or in passing. Their parents had made it clear that you were still their friend and welcome in their home anytime. As for now, you were jobless, posting your information on corkboards all over town and praying that a kind family would give you a call. Even John and your closest friends were keeping an eye out when they could, sending you links to local mom groups on Facebook that you could join and advertise in. So far, nobody was in need of a full-time care provider, so you’ve been scheduled to babysit for multiple families for a night or two.

It’s like the universe is taunting you. Everywhere you go, you see mamas bouncing their happy babies on their hips, daddies carrying their toddlers on their shoulders, parents swinging their children by the arms as they walk. Today, you find yourself at the park where you and the kiddos would frequent, apparently set on torturing yourself. It’s a Thursday so most school age children are in class, leaving only stay-at-home moms and their young kids to roam the colorful chalk-covered sidewalks. There’s so much laughter and giddiness and joy, and-

God, you need a baby. It’s abundantly clear in the way tears spill down your puffy cheeks as you watch a little girl, no older than two years at most, give her pregnant mommy an open-mouthed kiss on the belly. A job isn’t enough anymore, not ‘holding you over’ the way you kept telling yourself it was. You crave the bond that comes with motherhood, the unmistakable features of your stature on the face of a chunky baby that you get to call your own. You want to nourish a life with your body, grow and birth and nurse. The desire practically screams for you the way you cry for it.

With a drawn-out sigh, you stand from the white wooden bench and brush the tears from your eyes, wiping the salty residue on your white skirt. It’s about an hour before you’re supposed to go on a date with John, so you decide to go back to your place and clean yourself up a bit. You can feel the dried mascara on your cheeks and you can’t imagine that you look presentable enough to even be in public, let alone on a date with your ridiculously handsome boyfriend. You trudge down the sidewalks and zone out until your hands make the familiar motions of turning your key into the lock of your flat.

You shriek at the sight of a looming figure before you, standing in the complete darkness of your unlit home, and it takes his low shushes and soft chuckles for you to realize it’s just John. You hit his chest softly, relieved giggles escaping your throat.

“You scared the shit out of me,” you grin, wrapping your arms around his neck and leaning in for a soft peck.

“Sorry, darlin’. Thought I’d surprise ya and show up a bit early,” he hums, large, warm hands engulfing your face as he pulls you in for a longer kiss.

You hum contentedly as his hands wander down to your waist, fingernails gently scratching the nape of his neck before you finally pull away with a dazed smile. His kisses tend to do that to you, leave you utterly speechless. You turn on the lamp that rests on your kitchen counter and before you can move to switch on the rest of the lights, John cusps your jaw firmly in his hand, dark eyebrows furrowed in concern. You yelp a little, not from pain, but surprise.

“You’ve been cryin’,” John observes, eyes scanning over your tear-streaked face now that it’s illuminated.

“It’s nothing,” you shrug with a soft grin, gently wrapping your fingers around his wrist to coax him to let go of your chin.

“It’s not nothin’ if it made you cry,” he insists, intertwining your fingers with his and guiding you into the living room.

John sits on your couch and pulls you onto his lap, rubbing away the black stains on your cheeks with a sturdy thumb. He presses another short kiss to your lips, then your cheekbone, then your forehead.

“Talk to me, love,” he whispers, gaze flickering between your quickly dampening eyes.

“It’s stupid,” you laugh. “I-I just… I miss the kids, and finding new work is difficult.”

It’s not a complete lie—you do miss keeping the children, and finding a new family to nanny for has proved to be a hassle—but it’s not the entire truth either. It’s just that you and John haven’t talked about having kids yet, or anything about the future, really. You didn’t want to scare him off with that kind of talk. The last thing you want to do is add to his already overflowing list of stresses, but he can see right through you.

“What else?” He presses, fingertips massaging your shoulders in a soothing motion.

You hesitate before sighing, shutting your eyes which only urges hot tears to spill from your waterline. John tuts, rubbing his thumbs over your eyelids to get you to look at him once more.

“Tell me,” he whispers, cradling the back of your neck in gentle palms.

“I wanna be a mom,” you sniffle, a breathy sob escaping your parted lips. “I want a baby that’s mine, not one that I just take care of for a few hours a week, mine.”

John hums, and it’s quiet for a few moments. You cry a little harder, thinking you messed up and now this man that you adore wants nothing to do with you, but your sobs are interrupted by a fit of laughter from the man whose lap you sit on. You furrow your eyebrows, hurt that he thought your confession dumb enough to laugh in your face about. Your worries cease when he nuzzles his nose against yours, peppering short, sweet kisses to your swollen lips.

“If I were a worse man, I’d dare say I told you so,” John grins cheekily, kissing away the tears from your distraught face.

“What are you talking about?” You huff, confused by his onslaught of affection.

“Don’t you remember, love? When I first met you and the little ones that day, you just had this… look about you. I could see the love, the longing in your eyes, and I asked if you wanted to be a mum.”

The memory hits you like a freight train, and you remember the way his words caught you off guard, made you stutter until you were sure you looked like a fool. You had forgotten all about it until now.

“Why didn’t you just tell me, darlin’?” His voice drops to a kind timbre, affection clear in his warm gaze.

“We haven’t even been together a year,” you frown. “I didn’t want to… y’know, scare you away.”

“Scare me away?” He asks breathlessly, his voice cracking, and if you didn’t know any better you’d assume he was in pain.

“Never. Nothing you do could ever scare me away, sweet girl. I would rip out my heart and present it to you on a silver platter if you asked. Hell, I still would even if you didn’t ask me to. Don’t you get it, darlin’? You’re my girl. I would do anythin’ and everythin’ for you. Whatever you need. Whatever you want.”

“Even a baby?” You giggle through a scratchy throat, wiping the snot from your nose with the back of your hand.

“Especially a baby,” he hums with a wide smile, and you trace the soft lines that form around his eyes tenderly.

John cups your face and pulls you in for a passionate kiss that steals your breath and all of your worries away, like he’s trying to take the burdens off of you and absorb them into himself. All he wants is your happiness, your smiles, your laughter. If he could, he would take away anything that dares make your lips twitch into something that even resembles a frown. When he pulls back, his grip on your face tightens ever-so-slightly, and his expression turns stern.

“I’m serious about you. Y’know that, yeah? Doesn’t take a year for me to figure that much out,” John murmurs, thumb tracing over your plush bottom lip. “But if you aren’t ready, or even sure that you want to be with me, then-”

“I do,” you interrupt hastily, muttering a small sorry when you see his eyebrows raise in surprise. “I do want to be with you. I’ve known that for a while now.”

“And is that because you really want me, or because I can give you a baby?” He jokes, nuzzling his face into your neck, his beard tickling your skin and making you giggle.

You tug at his hair playfully, sharp breaths heaving through your chest as you try to shy away from his relentless teasing. His movements still after a moment and he presses a chaste kiss to the skin right beneath your ear before he leans against the back of the couch. John wraps his arms around your waist and guides you to rest your head on his shoulder, snuggling into his firm body. He rests his cheek on top of your hair, hands aimlessly roaming your back.

“Marry me,” he whispers after a good moment of silence, and you stiffen.

“What?” You lift your head to look at him, eyes wide with shock.

“Marry me,” John repeats, his bright blue eyes boring into yours with an intensity that makes your heart race. “We want to be with each other, yeah? Why waste anymore time?”

“John, I…” you trail off, shaking your head softly in disbelief.

“I love you,” he interjects, rough fingers squeezing your waist affectionately. “I want to spend the rest of my life with you. It’s all I fuckin’ think about, darlin’. You’re all I think about.”

Fresh tears form in your eyes, and John’s heart drops. Perhaps he was the one to scare you away with his bluntness. With trembling hands, he wipes away your tears and shushes you sweetly. He thinks that being skinned alive would hurt significantly less than seeing the way your bottom lip quivers as you cry.

“I’m sorry, love, I shouldn’t have sprung that on you. You don’t have to give me an answer right now, or even at all if that’s what you want. I’ll wait as long as it takes, darlin’, I’ll-”

“Stop talking,” you sniffle, giggling under your breath as you press a finger to his lips. “Of course I’ll marry you.”

For the first time in your relationship, you see him blush, his entire face and the tips of his ears reddening rapidly. He clears his throat and suddenly he’s the one that can’t look you in the eye. You cup his bearded cheeks in your hands and tilt his head up to look at you, that sweet smile he fell so head over heels for adorning your face.

“I love you,” you confirm, and watch as his eyes glisten with unspeakable happiness.

John pulls your face down to lock his lips with yours once more, small puffs of relieved breaths mingling with your own. Your mouth has never felt softer, never tasted sweeter, never pressed so perfectly against his own. All the hell he’s been through, all the hardships he faced, the pain he’s dealt and the wrongs he’s suffered are all worth it now, with you in his arms. If it meant that you would be his every single time, he would spend every life after this one pursuing you until the end of the world.

He just wishes that time could stand still for this very moment so he can cherish it for eternity.

Next ->

[cheegu3]

Enhypen - the glory (part 9)

summary; after rejecting one of the most popular boys at your new school, you soon realised that you'd done the gravest mistake of your life; these weren't ordinary boys, and now they were set on making your life a living hell - heavily based on the kdrama with the same name

warnings; yandere themes, sexual joke,

genre; yandere

wc; 4.9k

pairing; enha x f.m reader

note; sorry for the wait again, I have the ending planned so I’m thinking around 2-3 or 3-4 more chapters which will be a bit more lengthy - as always thank u for ur support and love <333 love uuu

masterlist

It was like time stopped. You and Soobin both grew pale, mouths hanging open in pure shock. It was hard to wrap your head around what he had actually said.

Jungwon, a murderer? Sure, he was cold, sadistic, and harsh, but -  a murderer? He must’ve been a child when that happened. Without meaning to, your thoughts showed through a scowl on your face, causing Yeonjun to shoot daggers at you.

‘’ You don’t believe me? ‘’

You felt torn. Wanting to say yes but not feeling it to be true 100% yet. The logical side of your brain was screaming at you to find proof of it; maybe he thought wrong, maybe he had a personal vendetta against him that wasn’t at all connected to Jungwon murdering his friend.

When looking at Soobin, you realized he felt the same thing as you. Neither of you had met a murderer or witnessed a murder. It felt a bit too crazy for your small world. Yeonjun must’ve noticed you looking at his brother as his eyes shifted to him now as well. He probably saw the same expression on your face mirrored on Soobin’s face because he backed away looking even more offended and hurt than before.

‘’ Not even you believe me? ‘’

Soobin struggled to get his words out, ‘’ No, we- we believe you- ‘’ Yeonjun turned on his heel, catching him off guard. ‘’ Wait! ‘’

He didn’t turn back to him, he just walked out of the alley. The last thing Soobin managed to shout at him before he disappeared around the corner of the building was, ‘’ It’s just a lot to take in, ‘’ earning a tired scoff from Yeonjun.

When it was just the two of you, silence fell over you like a veil. It was obvious that you both were deep in thought and troubled over the same thing. Minutes passed, during which you spent going back and forth inside your head. 

You remembered the coldness you felt, the silent fear the others seemed to have of him, and the sadistic smirks he’d wear on his face when he was torturing you. But, most notably were his eyes. Sharp, at times carrying many different emotions; most commonly, however, rage and emptiness. Amusement in pain but unfazed in happiness.

If anyone out of the group was capable of murder it would be him, that much you knew. So maybe it was true after all no matter how hard it was to digest. You started to feel some guilt due to how it came off to Yeonjun, so you hurried to say something.

‘’ What do we do now? ‘’

‘’ You believe him, right? ‘’

You took some time to answer which made Soobin smile knowingly. It seemed that over the last few seconds, he too had snapped out of the trance; he looked a lot more confident, no longer pondering distraughtly. 

‘’ We could just double-check they went to the same school before. ‘’

Soobin agreed, sending Yeonjun a quick text. A weird feeling washed over you while you were standing there and looking over his shoulder. Your skin felt like it was crawling, and the hairs on your neck raised.

‘’ Soobin? ‘’ your voice came out in a terrified whisper making his eyes widen.

‘’ What’s wrong? ‘’

‘’ Is someone watching us? ‘’

Surprise replaced his worried expression, ‘’ What do you mean? ‘’

When a few seconds had passed and he could tell you were still serious, he chivalrously was the one who dared to look around despite his heart beating faster in dread. You noticed his head had stopped turning, and you allowed your eyes to follow where he was looking; it was the staircase. 

Jungwon was staring right at Soobin, gaze diverting to you when he noticed you were looking too. A small smile tugged at his lips, and then he walked out of your sight causing both you and Soobin to scramble to look around the wall - but, nothing. He had disappeared similarly to Yeonjun, leaving you and Soobin feeling just as puzzled.

*******

You decided to go home, feeling like you needed some space to think about your next course of action, as well as what to say to Yeonjun. Soobin had expressed concerns of him acting out impulsively, blinded by rage since he had finally found the person he’d been looking for, for years.

He said he would go check on his older brother and send you updates. Without Yeonjun, the plan would probably be paused for some time until he felt a bit better or you and Soobin came up with a plan on your own. Thankfully the small break gave you some room to relax for the first time in a long time.

Your dad barely reacted when you came home. He hadn’t even sent a text asking what time you would be there after school. His eyes were glued to the bright screen in the darkness like usual, giving a short ‘ hey ‘ when he heard your movements.

You didn’t respond, unsure if he would even notice if you did or not. But he did and it caused his tired head to look up, a sad expression forming on his face as he realized he had once again lost track of time.

The door to your bedroom was slammed unintentionally due to your pent-up anger and frustrations from the long day. You laid down, muscles relaxing under the softness of the bed. 

After barely a few minutes of serene quietness, the phone started ringing loudly. You groaned, rolled over, and then picked it up.

‘’ Soobin? ‘’

‘’ Hey, did I disturb you? ‘’

‘’ It’s okay, what’s up? ‘’

‘’ Yeonjun won’t come out of his room so I’m not really sure what to do. He didn’t respond to me either, except for sliding a photo under the door. Y/n…he really went to the same school as Jungwon. It was a class photo. ‘’

You hummed, ‘’ I thought so. If he transferred schools years before I got there, it would’ve been impossible for me to have known that. ‘’

‘’ Yeah, I guess that’s true. ‘’

‘’ Anything else? ‘’

‘’ He sent me some of the files and it has a lot of evidence on it. Mostly texts between employees, there are about a thousand more he has to go through. Some had videos and photos though, of employees being beaten by the boss and higher-ups of the company.‘’

‘’ Holy shit, ‘’ you bit your lip to stop your volume from getting too loud in a moment of excitement, ‘’ Do you think this is enough? ‘’

‘’ Maybe. But we never know what kind of lawyers they have. They could claim it’s A.I or deepfake and not real at all. ‘’

‘’ As long as we try it’s okay. Then we know we have tried everything.‘’

‘’ Of course. You might find some things at Jay’s house too. ‘’

‘’ Jay’s house? ‘’ your forehead furrowed in confusion, you didn’t remember him mentioning anything about that before.

‘’ I have a…spontaneous plan. Wanna come over? ‘’

*******

‘’ It’s a long shot, ‘’ you hesitantly said.

‘’ Better to try than not trying at all. ‘’

A small smile shot to your lips, ‘’ Wow, look at you becoming so wise.‘’

He blushed and whined at the teasing, hiding his face in his hands which made him look adorable in your eyes; a small laugh slipped out of you. He waved with one hand, gesturing to the phone. 

‘’ Okay, okay I will text him. ‘’

5:36 pm

You: Hey, can I come over? 

You and Soobin both looked at each other after you sent the first text, thinking of the same thing - it was too vague and might make him text the other guys immediately. Soobin hurried to take the phone from you, becoming serious again.

You: I feel more comfortable around you than the others, they’re a lot meaner, I think you’re a bit nicer to me :) 

‘’ Is that good enough? ‘’

‘’ If he’s selfish and I guess…horny? ‘’ 

You gasped, ‘’ Soobin! ‘’

‘’ What? He’s a guy after all…’’ he trailed off, quickly speeding up when his ears started to turn red this time. ‘’ He’d probably happily take the chance to be alone with you. Especially given how strict Jungwon seems to be with them. ‘’

You nodded. That seemed pretty plausible. If Jungwon was always adamant they never met up or acted alone with you in fear of the group collapsing due to jealousy and conflict, that was a very smart way to make sure just that would happen.

Everyone is more vulnerable alone after all.

5:37 pm

Jay: Why, is something wrong? 

You took the phone back but glanced at Soobin, wanting to get advice on what to write. As you started typing, he looked at you reassuringly so you sent it.

You: I just feel really sad and depressed, my mom has been in the hospital for so long. I don’t know what to do. Maybe I need to vent a bit. I know it’s stupid, but I really don’t have anyone else. Is it okay if I come over? 

‘’ If he says yes to that, then he’s a lot more stupid than I thought. ‘’

Soobin smiled somberly to himself, ‘’ Or he’s just a man who is in love. ‘’

You shook your body jokingly as if you felt a physical sensation like goosebumps at that thought.

‘’ I get that. ‘’

‘’ You do? ‘’

He nodded and his mouth opened but then closed again as he wasn’t sure what to say. Now it was your turn for your face to heat up, you cleared your throat and turned your head discreetly away from him. Soobin didn’t notice, he was too busy beating himself up over not being able to say what he wanted to.

Jay: Okay, you can come over for a bit. I’ll send you my address. 

‘’ Yes! ‘’ you threw up a balled fist and cheered victoriously. 

‘’ It worked? ‘’

‘’ Yeah, thank god. I don’t know how else we would’ve gotten the proof. ‘’

Soobin chuckled, ‘’ Well you’re not sure if you are going to get that far yet. Don’t get ahead of yourself. ‘’

‘’ Oh, right. Well, I feel optimistic though. ‘’

When you looked at him for a long time in silence with a smile, he raised his eyebrows playfully, ‘’ Because of me? ‘’

‘’ Yeah, you just never seem to give up on me. Because of you being around, I know I won’t lose myself. ‘’

‘’ So you trust me again, fully? ‘’

You nodded without hesitation.

‘’ You know this. I don’t think you could make me change my mind again. You have proved yourself and helped me many, many times. ‘’

A genuine grin flashed across his face, ‘’ You better get going then, we have a plan to follow.‘’

*******

On the way to Jay’s house, something unexpected happened. The taxi driver let you off somewhere near Jungwon’s house, telling you he wasn’t allowed to go further up the hill due to the status of the man living there. 

When you started walking the long and tiresome walk up - as you passed by the familiar mansion a girl kicked the door open and began coming towards you. You were about to start running in fear until you saw that it was Yena. 

‘’ Yena? ‘’

You went up to the iron bars and tried tugging on the gate, but it was locked.

‘’ I can’t get out. They’ve locked me in here. ‘’

‘’ What? Why would they do that? ‘’

She hesitated for a moment, turning her head back a few times to make sure no one had followed her out there. 

‘’ They found out I’m helping you. ‘’

‘’ I’ll get you out! ‘’

‘’ If Jungwon sees you here he might take the opportunity to lock you in here too. ‘’

You listened to what she said and decided texting Soobin to help might be the smartest plan of action here. Jay was already waiting for you to come to his house and might get suspicious if it took you too long.

While taking out the phone and sending a text to Soobin, Yena watched you in silence. Unknown to you, she was having an internal conflict about whether to tell you the full truth or not. She wasn’t sure how to tell you in a way that would make you give the reaction she wanted - because even if she said it as well as she could, there was still no way to tell how you would react.

All she knew was that she couldn’t stand another minute inside that place. The horror-like images flashed inside her head, causing her to feel stress flare up.

‘’ I’ll be back soon, I promise. I’m going to Jay’s house but it won’t be for long. Soobin’s picking me up and then we can all leave, ‘’ you started backing away from the fence, just as a text from Jay came through asking where you were.

‘’ No! Please, you can’t leave me here! ‘’ she wailed.

The sudden switch made you confused. She had been pretty okay just a moment before. 

‘’ Yena, what’s going on? ‘’

She didn’t answer, it instead made her more hysteric. Her eyes widened, to the point you could see much of the whites in them; but in her panicked state there was still begging there, desperation and fear.

The phone you were holding started ringing, and like Yena you felt panicked. In a moment, you made up your mind to leave, otherwise, it could worsen the situation for the both of you - you’d come back later for her, you promised her after all.

You answered the phone, ‘’ Yes. I’m just walking up the hill, ‘’ and turned your back on her.

Yena screamed louder, with all of the energy she had left in her. The pain in her voice sounded so raw, it forced you to close your eyes so you could gather yourself. You knew that she was just acting that way because she was scared, she wasn’t being very rational. It didn’t matter if you saved her then or came back a little later. You doubted they would kill her in that short time span, or hurt her very badly too.

‘’ Please…’’ her voice trailed off, the sobs turning into hiccups.

You turned, feeling too bad to leave her there now. But you ended up turning back almost as quickly again and ran up the hill. Yena’s crying had made someone come out of the front door and they were approaching the gate with hasty steps. 

‘’ I’ll be back, ‘’ you shouted over your shoulder.

With great determination, you made it up the steep hill after running and found yourself outside the gates of the largest house you had ever seen. It was the house furthest away from the others and at the very top.

Although Jungwon’s house was big, it was nothing in comparison to this, a house fit for a mayor and businessman. You felt slightly intimidated by its size, even more so when spotting all the guards both on the other side of the gate and outside it.

The ones closest started moving towards you. You were scared that Jay hadn’t told them you were coming so they’d arrest you, labeling you as some crazy fan or weird journalist. But when they stood right in front of you, they stopped.

‘’ Miss, y/n? ‘’

‘’ Yes, ‘’ you hesitantly said.

He said something through the in-ear he had in before he and the others walked behind you. The gates opened, not even a single squeak from them.

You looked back since you felt a bit awkward and the guards gestured for you to go in so while starting to walk, you took the time to look at everything. It was embarrassing to admit you were in awe, and when small gasps left your mouth you prayed that Jay wasn’t close enough to witness your childlike fascination at a rich person’s house. If he did, he would definitely tease you for it.

‘’ Y/n, ‘’ you tensed up.

Looking around, you quickly noticed he was standing on the balcony right above where you were. When your eyes met, he smiled and then disappeared, appearing through the French doors below in under a minute.

‘’ You can leave us, ‘’ he said to the guards who looked hesitant before eventually retreating somewhere behind you. 

‘’ Let’s go, ‘’ Jay said.

He didn’t wait for you to follow him, so you had to hurry to keep up to not get lost in the big house. You went up the same staircase he had likely come down from, but didn’t go into the same room. He kept walking down the corridor all the way to the end where a big round room was. 

‘’ Is this your room? ‘’

‘’ Yeah. Do you like it? ‘’

It was a big room with round windows on the wall furthest away facing the courtyard you had seen when coming in through the gates. A big bed was in the middle and the room was very clean, you could tell almost immediately that a wealthy person lived there.

He laid down on the bed, propping his chin up with his outstretched arm, and watched you as you walked around the room. You had no idea how you’d play this off, it was decided on short notice because Soobin believed you should still continue acting quickly despite missing Yeonjun by your side. 

He reasoned that they seemed to have put their guard down around you, which is something you have told him before as well. So if you were to get caught, maybe it wouldn’t be as bad as it would’ve been a few weeks or months ago.

You almost slipped up when Jay moved and tapped the bed, gesturing for you to come over. You were very close to forgetting the reason you told him you were there and cursing at him. Thankfully you caught yourself just in time, but walking over to him still took some force.

You had to turn your head when you felt him moving around you so you two were spooning, not wanting to risk any true feelings appearing on your face and be visible to him.

‘’ How are you doing? ‘’

He didn’t sound as soft, gentle, or empathetic as someone like Sunoo or even Jake would’ve, so you weren’t sure why he had agreed to do this. He wasn’t the most affectionate out of the group, or the kindest - but didn’t react when you had called him that in your text?

‘’ A bit better now. ‘’

‘’ You couldn’t call Soobin? ‘’

Jay chuckled when he felt your body stiffen.

‘’ All I meant is that you’re- what do I call you…friends? ‘’

You gulped down the weird anxiety you suddenly got from being asked about Soobin. Hoping he wasn’t angry, you quietly responded, ‘’ Yeah, friends. ‘’

His body vibrated as a low hum sounded from his throat. He didn’t sound very convinced. You wondered why he brought him up at all.

‘’ Thank you for doing this, I needed it, ‘’ you attempted to shift the conversation in another direction.

‘’ Always happy to, ‘’ he ominously mumbled into the crook of your neck.

You were pressed closer to him, and he sighed contentedly as his eyelids were getting heavier just by you being close. You noticed this by the way he slowly relaxed, his head drooping into your hair. 

Carefully you slid out of his hold, thinking it was a lot easier than what you had expected. Originally you were just going to say you had to go to the bathroom, but now - if he didn’t wake up, he maybe wouldn’t even have noticed you were gone at all.

It took a great deal of concentration to tiptoe soundlessly over the floor and then close the door behind you. Being so scared that it would make a noise, you opted for leaving it half-open before continuing down the hallway. 

It was deadly quiet, amplifying your heart beating wildly. When you peeked around the corner and didn’t see anyone you continued tiptoeing to the closest door, it was a bedroom so you closed it again. Turning around and seeing about a dozen identical rooms you decided none of them were likely to be an office.

So you were forced to leave the corridor of safety where you knew no danger was lurking; instead walking down the stairs while crouched so you could make sure no guards were watching.

Then you sprinted towards the other side where a small corridor led into a large kitchen. No one was there either, you suspected it was because the dad was in the city and the mom was probably out working too. Or rather, you hoped that was the case as you ventured through the kitchen. 

You made it safely through that too, finding yourself in the living room now, a very open space with many windows facing the courtyard. Not wanting to risk getting caught you kept walking. Most of the guards were stationed by the gate as they had been before, but some stood near the doors with their backs turned. Any unusual movements or noises and you could bet their necks would be snapping around.

Because of that, you would hide at the slightest of indicator that one of them might look into the house. First, you hid behind the walls, but the closer you got to a large room that had an unusual door behind it, the fewer places you had to hide.

The door you had seen that caught your attention from far away, was a large oak door with some letters engraved on it. A small round staircase led up to it, making it stand out clearly against everything else around.

It was deserted around the door too, but you felt scared that there was a small possibility the mayor was inside. Maybe he hadn’t gone to his office in the city on this particular day. If you knew your luck, that would be the case.

Step by step you made your way there anyway since you had made it thus far. When you stood right outside, you took a quick look around again before pressing the door handle down and going inside. Darkness surrounded you immediately.

You let your fingers trace the wall for a light switch but decided not to press it, in fear of it alerting anyone to your position. Your phone was taken out instead, the light from it only making the atmosphere creepier than it already was.

Bookshelves seemed to cover almost every single space the light shone on. It made you a little overwhelmed. The smartest move would probably be to check the desk. Nearing it, you realized there was a chance it was locked.

Just like you thought; the drawers at the old Victorian desk at the front had keyholes in them and they remained closed when you tried tugging on them.

When you gave up on the locked drawers, you instead walked to the bookshelves that were the closest; and you swear your heart stopped. The sound of footsteps just outside the door made you freeze in place, unable to move any limbs.

As the door swung open you were found like that. Cursing yourself for not snapping out of it and hiding in time, you tried to crawl under the desk even though it was way too late. You squinted, taking some time to get used to the bright lighting shining into the room.

‘’ What are you doing? ‘’

A chill ran down your spine at the sound of the familiar voice. Footsteps started again and stopped right at the desk. The shoes of Jay came into your view. He crouched down slowly and sighed, tilting his head and making you feel embarrassed - he was kind of looking at you like a disappointed father who had discovered you playing where you weren’t supposed to.

His hand caressed your cheek, he could tell you had started trembling out of fear of what he might do to you. Perfectly calm, he very smoothly pulled on your leg and managed to drag you out almost entirely from under the desk.

‘’ Get up. ‘’

‘’ W-where are you taking me? ‘’ you said, licking your dry and bloody lips.

Jay ticked his tongue and lowered his head, looking up at you through his bangs. You could tell his patience which had been there just a few seconds ago was running out by his narrowed eyes glaring up at you, so you scrambled to your feet.

You watched curiously as he went to the bookshelf and unlocked the compartment at the bottom that you hadn’t even noticed. He had a few folders in his hands when he faced you again.

‘’ Were you looking for these? ‘’

‘’ I- no. ‘’

An amused smile ghosted over his lips, ‘’ I think you were. ‘’

‘’ No, ‘’ you mumbled.

‘’ Do you want it? ‘’

‘’ No. ‘’

‘’ No? ‘’ he raised one of his eyebrows, ‘’ You can have it, all yours. ‘’

You stared at him in bewilderment. What was he talking about? Was he just trying to taunt you? The failed attempt being thrown in your face was incredibly uncomfortable, you twisted in your spot on the floor, avoiding his hawk-like eyes watching your every move - predicting your next move and relishing in your pain.

‘’ Why? ‘’ your genuinely shocked voice finally made him give into the smile that had wanted to spread for a long time. He was always right. 

‘’ I’m just being nice. ‘’

‘’ No catch? ‘’

He nodded, pursing his lips.

‘’ No catch. ‘’

‘’ Liar, there’s always a catch. ‘’

‘’ Are you going to take it or not? ‘’

‘’ I don’t even know what it is, ‘’ you finally realized. 

‘’ Everything you need is in there. ‘’

‘’ So why are you giving it to me? ‘’ 

‘’ Because no matter how hard you try, ‘’ his smile turned sinister, ‘’ you will never be able to do anything with it. ‘’

*******

6:15 pm

You: Soobin, I have the files. Please come pick me up.

Cousin: okay

Cousin: I’ll be there soon, stand in a place where they can’t see you

You did as you were told, pushing back into the big bushes that covered the hill up to Jay’s house. It was uncomfortable; not only itchy, but the branches were spiky and would be sure to leave traces behind afterward given that they were digging into your skin.

Jungwon’s house was near, you could see the gates if you turned your head. You did so out of curiosity in your boredom and restlessness of waiting for Soobin to come. Despite being meters away from the main gate you could still spot a phone lying in the grass. Yena was nowhere to be seen. 

You weren’t sure why, but you felt like something was wrong. They could’ve done something to her if they had spotted her talking to you outside, even if you were almost certain not enough time would pass for that to happen. You bit your lip anxiously while you raked your brain on what to do - go over there and investigate or stay in the bush and wait for Soobin?

Soobin’s car came into view just as you had made a run for the gate, leaving your poor classmate looking back at you confusedly. He thought you were being chased, so in a moment of panic, he reversed to the gate and rolled down the window.

‘’ Y/n! Get in! ‘’

‘’ Hold on, ‘’ you said back, not ready to give up and go since you had gone through the trouble of fitting your hand through the bars now.

‘’ Oh, ‘’ he mumbled to himself, scratching the back of his neck.

You pushed your whole face against the bars and tried your hardest to reach the phone with your fingertips. When Soobin saw you struggling he came out of the car and tried as well. His arm was thicker but way longer; somehow he managed to squeeze through and just by a millimeter his fingers carefully nudged the phone closer. 

You helped him pull out his arm which was red with marks, ‘’ We have to leave now. ‘’

One look at the phone was all you needed to know it wasn’t a good idea to stay there any longer. The longer you stayed, the higher the chances of them spotting you were.

‘’ What did you see? ‘’ Soobin asked in the car.

You cleared your throat, feeling a lump forming. It had been confusing, making you end up with more questions than answers.

‘’ It was a screenshot of a text between Sunghoon and Yena. ‘’

That piqued Soobin’s interest, he almost turned his whole head away from the steering wheel. 

‘’ What? ‘’

You let out an exasperated sigh, looking out of the window, ‘’ It was Yena begging him to leave the group. ‘’

He couldn’t believe what you were saying, and neither could you really, ‘’ Why the hell was Yena talking to Sunghoon? ‘’

-

-

taglist; @peaceout97blog-blog, @ayadikreino, @beoms-sugar, @keikeu, @sunghoonnsupremacy, @lilyalone, @sweet-kisses-and-bloody-screams, @eunchaesmileyface, @nunugget, @seunns, @nshmrarki, @huening-ly, @espyluvsyou, @yncel, @loserwithnofriends, @enha-stan, @binchanluvrr, @ariek-divad, @obsessed1with1straykids, @yizhoutv, @taeyongzodiactwinkiri, @w3bqrl, @elleashn, @nuriicata, @yevene, @manasasugarbaby09

[molagboop]

What are your headcanons regarding chozo newborns/fledgelings?

OH BOY do I have information for you.

A few basics:

Chozo lay eggs.

Most Chozo are born with an egg tooth on the tip of their beak which helps them break free of the shell to be born.

"Boriha" is a Chozo word used to describe children who have yet to fledge.

Chozo hatchling (very new guy edition) with an egg tooth.

The Chozo tribes evolved with different traits on their homeworld, which have only diverged further following their departure.

Mawkin and Thoha hatchlings are altricial: they're born blind and depend wholly upon their parents for the first few months. It takes two weeks for altricial babies to gain a full coat of down.

Thiloo (a tribe of penguin-like Chozo) hatchlings are semi-altricial: they open their eyes within the first 24 hours of hatching, and are born with a thin coat of down that reaches full thickness within three days.

Hatzu (ratite Chozo: think emu, ostriches, and cassowaries) babies are precocial upon hatching: their eyes are open, and they're covered in natal feathers. The strong-legged Chozo of the Hatzu tribe are the only ones capable of walking fresh out of the shell. The Hatzu are the only Chozo who lack an egg tooth: instead, their babies kick their way out of their shells.

There are more tribes than I've listed here, but the Thiloo and Hatzu have the most notable differences upon birth.

Pictured below: a Thoha baby, a Thiloo baby, a Hatzu baby, and two images of newly-hatched baby Raven Beak. The altricial babies look like little naked old men (not unlike many real baby birds: shout outs to baby pelican).

The Hatzu kid pictured above is being picked up by an adult: the most stable method is to place your hands under the kid's chest and lift. Most Hatzu hatchlings will start to panic if their legs are restrained: it's a survival instinct.

Most Chozo babies use their sharp talons to grasp the downy feathers on a trusted adult's neck, chest, and back. It takes about two months for a hatchling to be able to reliably grasp. Grasping is how baby Chozo get around for the first few years of their lives. 18 months is around the time Chozo will be able to stand and walk independently, but they still rely on their parents to carry them around long distances.

That's not to say they'll rely solely on their parents for locomotion: once those babies can run, they run.

A few examples. The large compilation image is of Raven Beak's mother with a cameo from the big (little) guy himself.

Baby Chozo ask for food by nudging the nearest adult's throat or negging them with screechy cries. The corners of their beaks are flexible and pronounced at this age so they can open their gullet wide for room service. They can eat some solid food (little bits torn off of an adult's dinner, grubs, small insects), or their parents can regurgitate nutritious, partially-digested matter from their crop.

Raven Beak and his dad. Baby guy opens very wide for optimal screechage and to ensure oncoming food makes it into his face-hole.

Pictured above: a Thiloo hatchling (left) and a Thoha hatchling (right). The corners of the Thoha kid's mouth are brighter and more flexible than that of an adult, allowing it to open comically wide.

Doodles of a newborn baby Mawkin and one with natal feathers (not to scale).

Hatzu hatchling doodles.

Chozo kids begin to fledge properly around five years old and learn to fly at seven. Mawkin children can start the preliminaries for their combat training as early as four and a half, but training starts in earnest at six.

This post talks about child-rearing practices and feeding. This post has more information about Chozo eggs and a basic child development roadmap.

[jacqcrisis]

*sweating* okay I'll talk about one bg3 AU idea with Ronan. It's is a pre-game, no Absolute one where Astarion devises a method of escape from Cazador on his own. He's been let off a lease just a slight amount due to Cazador's planning for the upcoming ritual so he gathers a few necessary items in secret, most notably a extra strong charm potion and a rod of teleportation that'll take him to a predetermined place hundreds of miles from Baldurs Gate.

It takes the right night, but at one of Cazador's balls, Astarion manages to charm another full vampire into giving up their blood, freeing him of his spawn status. This reprieve last only for a moment as Cazador realizes what has happened immediately and tries to capture his ex spawn. In the scuffle, Astarion turns into a bat for the first time, gets greviously wounded, but manages to activate the rod and get outta dodge as he is transported across the continent in a terrible state, but free nonetheless.

On a dark, lonely dirt path up the mountains with a horse the size of a small house, Ronan makes his way back to the temple of Bahamut he calls home, eager to get back to his bed and the temple's cats after a few weeks of being out in the local villages on cleric duty. As he gets closer, a strange rustling in a bush alerts him to a severely injured bat struggling to fly or even walk. One of its wings is torn to shreds and it's got a gash down the side of it and predictably it screeches at Ronan as he picks it up.

Curiously, his usual healing capabilities do nothing for the poor thing, and, unable to just leave the critter to die a slow death, the dragonborn bundles it up in his robes and hurries on home to care for it. He cleans it, patches up what he can, feeds the thing some of his own blood, and makes a little nest for it in his drawer, determined to see it better. At no point, does he suspect anything is off about this stressed, oddly white bat.

When finally left alone as the sun is beginning to come up in the relatively safety of a claustrophobic yet cozy bedside drawer, Astarion realizes three things. 1) Cazador did something to his natural regeneration as his wounds are not healing as swift as they should. 2) He also did something to Astarion's ability to shift back into a person, leaving his stuck in this small, animalistic form for gods only know how long. 3) He went from the hell that was Cazador's palace to now being neck deep in clerics, priests, and paladins for a justice and good aligned god who would no doubt stamp his little bat head flat if they figured out what he was.

And now he's stuck here until at the very least he can fly again. With this weird over-grown salamander. Astarion, of course, hates this.

Lucky for him, Ronan is a good caretaker. He never opens the drawer until well after nightfall, having his own late night schedule. He feeds his bat both blood let from the goats and pigs around the temple and his own. He keeps the bat's injuries clean and well bandaged and keeps the temple's cats away from it. He does his nightly duties with the bat tucked into his robes so it can get outside, and cares not if the critter scurries around his face or hangs off his horns and spikes, seemingly enamored with this new little animal in his life.

This goes on for a few weeks, and when Astarion is fully healed and whatever suppressive magic that kept him in that form wears off, he is free to fly away. And he does, spending that first night hunting his own food in his actual body and feeling like an entirely new person. But then he comes back to the temple, flaps back into his drawer as a bat to snooze the day away.

After everything he's been through, all the trials, all the torture, all the abuse, all the starvation, being in a place that is safe and warm where blood is easy to acquire and he is protected from his master who is no doubt still looking for him... well, it's a difficult thing to leave. And Ronan seemed delighted when his bat sailed back through his window at dawn to scrabble back into his drawer nest. Astarion has had a difficult life, and this is like a vacation, with the trade off being a bat.

He'll leave... eventually. Maybe next week. When he has a plan and a direction to go in and the novelty of having his wings spread out on the dragonborn's warm chest as Ronan reads aloud and scratches behind his ears wears off.

There's a lot more. Like so much. Obviously. Astarion develops a little crush on Ronan eventually, accidentally reveals himself, shenanigans ensue, vampires are annoying to clerics who are very conflicted their pet bat is a hot vampire elf, spawn and werewolves come looking for Astarion, love is fallen into despite both parties reluctance, there a couple of nights of 'accidental passion', and in the end Ronan convinces the silver dragon who is the defacto lead priest of the temple that there's a great injustice happening in Baldur’s Gate in the form of a big ole nest of vampires that they need to clear out. And Ronan and Astarion finally admit to being in love and they go off together to find a sun allergy cure.

Anyways. I like it a lot. It's cozy and sweet and stupidly drawn out like 70% of the stuff I like to write.

[dufferpuffer]

Got any lupin appearance hcs?

David Thewlis does such a good job at portraying most of who Remus is to me. But David is not Remus. He is David. It is very unfortunate, I know. If he WAS Remus then Remus would be real. For one thing he is too tall. For another - no grey hairs? Get older, dweeb. But he is the 'vibe'. He is the general framework. Did you want more HC than that? Alrighty then here's 2,000 words.

(Overview) Approaching Remus... nothing sticks out about his appearance or mannerisms. He stands casually, back hunched as he checks over his class notes. He's on the taller end of average, about 5'9"/175cm, but still average. His hair looks soft - a honey brown with light greys around his temples. He keeps it neatly combed, the part well defined - not bothering to hide how his hairline is receding in a widows peak.

(Vibe) Just an average-looking man in his 40s. (It's surprising that he is in his 30s.) And he IS average-looking. A slightly larger rounded nose, thin lips, a weak chin... as he looks down his jaw disappears into his neck. He doesn't look bad by any means. 'Handsome' would be a decent descriptor - but its not the first word most people would jump to, even if they agreed with it. He is fine. Plain. Acceptable. Agreeable. Just a guy. You're likely to forget how he looks the moment you turn your head away.

(Clothes) Even his clothes aren't particularly memorable: Brown tweed suit with a tie... notable only in that it is clearly muggle clothing and looks a little worn. (muggle second-hand clothes are cheap and more available. A smaller population of wizards means less consumption - most robes are custom fitted.) But a simple addition of a teachers cloak (or a cravat, tailcoat jacket, patterned waistcoat, velvet cap, pointed hat...) would be enough to blend in. At your first glance he looks like an enthusiastic Muggle Studies professor, or a traveling Ministry employee.

(Eyes) It's his first glance that shows off whats memorable about him: Big open eyes, a hazel where the outer, blueish rim is stronger in bright light - the honey-brown middle dominant when dim. They catch sight of you, his brows raising in gentle surprise - accentuating the lines on his forehead... and morphing the shape of his scars.

(Scars) Deep, red - but not angry. They seem both old and oddly recent: They don't look like they hurt anymore, nor are they likely to split and bleed, but they aren't the puffy, pale look you would expect. Some creature, probably magical, has torn his face apart. If you are well studied you can probably spot the telltale signs of a werewolf scar. Most people can't.

The largest is diagonal, splitting his eyebrow, crossing the bridge of his nose and onto the opposite cheek. How lucky it missed his eye. Another has split his bottom lip, making a divot - but has missed his upper lip. His neat-and-tidy pencil mustache grows uninterrupted - and accentuates the friendly smile he rests on when looking at you.

The savagery of his scars is the one thing about him that doesn't seem soft... the one thing thats sharp - other than his gaze.

(Manner) "Hello there! Is there something in particular you need...?" His smile doesn't waiver for even a moment. There's something wrong with it. His teeth are fine, straight enough, a normal yellow-white... but it's too steady. Too friendly. There's something in his bright eyes that is trying desperately to glimmer with playfulness... but instead looks wary and guarded. They don't dart about the room nervously, or stare fearfully - they are just so steady. The places he looks are calculated, making judgements... and keeping his conclusions hidden.

"...Very well. I apologize for not being a better host, but I'm rather busy I'm afraid. Please - make yourself at home." He turns back to his papers, flicking through them... before walking to his chair and sitting down. His gait is purposeful, letting his shoes clack loudly on the hard floor.

He tugs his sleeves up, revealing slender (and hairy) wrists from the baggy sleeves - and dips his quill to write.

(Hands) ...The fingers gripping the quill are wrong, too. Thin white scars. Fresh cuts. His knuckles all seem to stick out - some slightly angled in directions they shouldn't be. Some fingers can't quite close properly - and two are taped together, healing from a minor break. White callouses cover the pads of his fingers, like he has rubbed them on grit for years.

The thin wrists disappearing into his tweed jacket... equally thin ankles covered by socks peeking out from under his trousers... This man is skinnier than he appears, his clothes a little big on him.

By themselves these oddities are easy enough to pass off as a part of his job. He is a slightly awkward, poor, skinny guy who enjoys giving practical lessons and is quite the talented spell-slinger. He must be more a 'man of action' than first impressions let on. He gets into more scrapes than he should in the name of enthusiasm... . . . ... If you were to ever see him undressed... a different story is told. (Which is why he never undresses. Even in summer - two layers at all times.)

(Body Hair) He unbuttons and takes off his shirt, refusing to look anywhere but the floor. He is very hairy. Honey-brown peppered with patches of grey - covering him to a nearly comical degree. Enough to make you snort with surprise. ...He doesn't see the humor in it.

Covering his chest up to his collarbone - down over his entire stomach and groin... it only thins out a little as it crosses the crease to his thighs and down his legs, thinning out at the line where his socks grind on his shins. He's hairy on his back and ass too, though thinner - the underside of his arms are still hairless though, as are his sides... though the upper side of his arms are thick and brown. His pits impressively dense and grey.

If he wasn't so embarrassed he might tell you he has long given up on shaving. It was too itchy. You can see why - in some places the hair is thick enough to be called fur.

(Breaks) The hair might be a blessing in disguise - it obscures what else is wrong with him. Deep bruises of varying stages of healing sit around what you can see of his ribs... which are crooked. They stick out - he is thin after all - and they aren't parallel curves anymore. If you trailed your finger along them you could feel the cracks, the breaks that settled and reformed incorrectly.

A well-fed, healthy werewolf doesn't shatter on the full moon. They get ravenously hungry and hormonal - their body using the nutrients to shift smoothly and grow specific new muscles to help with the process. As they get older and experience more and more shifts - their body changes to be something in-between werewolf and man.

But Remus is not a well-fed, healthy werewolf. He keeps himself starved for a reason beyond simply being too poor to afford good food all the time: (Humanity) Ask any werewolf how long ago they think Remus was bitten and they'll say 10 years maximum. "He's got the body hair - but the backs of his ears aren't hairy yet. His nails still grow flat and he walks heel-to-toe. He's collected a good number of scars, but his body's still not used to shifting..." ...Jaws drop when you tell them its 30 years. There are teenagers more wolf-like than him.

He looks more human than he should... but at the cost of his physical condition. He is brittle, weak and always in joint pain somewhere.

(Body Scars) If you thought the scar on his face was deep - my god, his body... Splitting the hair on his torso like rips in shag carpet are long cross-crossing scars. Deep like the ones on his face, but larger. More.

He hurts himself some full moons - the smell of blood and the pain soothes his violent mind. The easiest, meatiest places to reach? His waist and thighs. Horizontal gashes in his ribs and waist. Vertical on the sides and front of his thighs. Diagonal on his hips and ass. He has a few other scars dotted here and there from others, mostly from his days as a spy. He has a few pale, fully-healed scars from his friends, too: Prongs' antlers and Padfoots teeth and claws. Nothing nearly as savage as what he has done to himself, though.

(Bite) He has tooth marks on his forearms and calves from chewing his own limbs, though they aren't as bad as the massive, stretched, warped punctures around his shoulder. "I was laying on my side when he climbed into my bedroom and sank his jaws into me. I suppose they look a little strange now, not muzzle-shaped at all... I've grown since I was 5." He will tell you. Out of any cut, bite or scratch those tooth marks look the reddest, the rawest, the angriest... and Remus says "Just standing under the moonlight is enough to make them sting."

(Body) He is right, he has grown since he was 5. In more ways than growing up. To shift into a werewolf is to shift into something bigger than you are – that changes your human body, too. Little by little. Older werewolves, the few that there are, get so hairy, misshapen and large that they can't remain in regular society at all. They either lash out bad enough after years of exclusion that they are sent to Azkaban, killed in 'self defense' – or embrace living in the wild like an animal at all times of the month. Hermits. (Sometimes they are spotted by muggles who mistakenly call them Sasquatch.) While Remus is 5'9"/175cm, if he weren't a werewolf he would likely be 5'7”/170cm or so. His spine has stretched – and as he isn't bulking up like most werewolves would, so he looks stretched. The bones bump out on his neck and upper back when he hunches, so he keeps the best posture he can to 'suck them in'. But to him it is worth it, because it means he is broken... but safe. (Werewolf) If you open a textbook, you will see photos and drawings of towering beasts - long like a man, but shaped like a canine. A muzzle overstuffed with wild teeth, forward-facing amber eyes, long fingers that end in savage claws, walking on the balls of their feet with a high hock - and a draping furred tail. They walk on all fours in an awkward loping gait - often standing up on two, their arms curled in, to sniff the air and howl. They aren't the most graceful beast, but have the strength of a bear due to their sheer size. You wouldn't want to be chased by one. ... Unless it was Remus. His body almost goes into shock every full moon, unable to draw on the energy and nutrients he needs. He doesn't grow a full pelt of fur. - so he looks diseased and bare. His skin stretches and sticks like wet leather to his bones. Just standing up on two legs takes enough effort to leave him panting. After a burst of adrenaline at moon-rise, he spends the rest of the night pottering about on all fours, laying down frequently to catching his breath and whimper with pain and hunger. But he knows what he is when he is well fed. When he was a teenager going on adventures with his friends, he was well fed on Hogwarts meals... and he was strong. Strong enough that a buck and a large hound were only just enough to drive him away from places he shouldn't go - the wounds he's get from them showed desperation. How irresponsible he was. Better a quivering heap... better a quivering man.

[times-of-drought]

Happy Storyteller Saturday... nane biology?

Eughhb.......nane biology.................

Of course I am talking about the species in general, so a ton of generalizations

So. They are mostly modeled after eels n morays, with a sprinkle of reptile and amphibian.

From the general to specific stuff, they are long. Usually over two meters long, with well-pronounced chest muscles and a thick tail. Their very notable trait is that they have two pairs of arms and no legs. The upper pair of arms is human-like, with a bit duller and shorter claws in place of fingernails. The lower pair of arms is shorter and stronger, the hands equipped with talons that replace the last phalanx.

They often have a thick neck that houses their throat, muscles that support the long tongue and the whole structure of pharyngeal jaws. Their outer jaw has long, thin and very sharp teeth, think thicker than an anglerfish but thinner than human. The inner, pharyngeal jaw has a more human set, with bigger, flat molars and more defined, sharper canines. I am not decided on the colour of the tongue (and the colour of genitals, for that matter). The inner jaw "snaps forward" both as a reflex of touching the upper palate and when the nane wills so, they have control over the muscles.

Their mouth is fun too. When they turn from human to monster, their mouth is fused up. The skin in the place is very coarse and structured and it functions kind of like dead skin - they have to tear it up to open their mouth. Usually nane have something resembling gills below their second set of arms, but they have degenerated in royal nane. As such, royal nane have to open up their mouth to breathe. The skin doesnt patch itself up until they turn back into a human. They can kind of close their mouth when it's torn, but like.... not fully. Fun fact, their smell sharpens a bit when they tear up their mouth

Their eyes have a second eyelid, a horizontal and transparent one. They dont have outer ears, with just holes in the place. They have a dragon-y nose, which I forgot to include in the drawings zlndks.

Their skin doesn't have fur, hair or scales, They are covered in a layer of slime, mucus, just enough to make the skin wet but not enough to make them drip with it. On their arms and on the tail there are multiple small indentations, making the skin somewhat coarse. These are spells written out in szekhteko, allowing them to levitate and swim through air.

To be able to do this a nane has to reach and tap into "magic" and thread it through the letters, somewhat activating them. Because it's required to effectively move around in their monstrous form, many nane are at least proficient in using magic. The stereotype is that it's because they are naturally better magic-users, but that's not true, they are just required to do it, forcing them to hone the skills. In reality there is no difference in a median nane and a median szekh' in terms of talent of natural affinity for magic. (The spells on their skins are borrowing power from Jauisz, god of Magic, Ysyl, god of the Unknown and the Different, Cseni, god of Silence and Stillness and Talyaszh, god of Fate and Destiny. The writing on their skin is not all spells, it can contain crucial information about them, random words, basically anything. The reason for each god: Jauisz because invoking yr is necessary for most of spells. Ysyl because the ability to swim in air is unnatural and somewhat "creepy" to normal szekh. It's kind of unsettling to see. Cseni, even though she is younger than Talyaszh, is considered the god-patron of nane overall, with some nane calling themselves "csener". It is found that nane are completely quiet, as before they tear their skin their breath cannot be even heard. Their body has almost no odour. Swimming in air produces no noise. So yeah Cseni is very close to them. Talyaszh is a nane god, which means xyr monstrous form anatomically fits the nane build (there are 6 nane gods out of the 28). As such, Talyaszh is considered another god that is inherently a patron of all nane.

There are some differences between common and "royal" or "noble" nane. The second set belong to families that have been rigorously picking off marriage candidates for the bloodline, cultivating traits they deem desirable and weeding off traits they don't want. I have written a bit about how royal nane can differ there: https://www.tumblr.com/times-of-drought/767921629503291392

Normal nane dont often have them or have a vestigial version of pseudo-ribbons. Pseudo-ribbons used to be, a few evolutionary steps back, normal ribbons, but, with time, nane wouldn't use them offensively/defensively like other szekh. This caused the growing fragility of them connected to softening. Now they are usually, if they are even present, paper-thin. They are often coloured.

Nane's skin can have a very different range of colours. From ivory (Common) through greys (C) to black (C), from ginger (Uncommon) to brown (U), from pink (Rare) to crimson (U), from dirty yellow (U) to orange (U). They can be dark green, but that is extremely rare. They can be multi-coloured, with patterns or random splotches. With age the pigment dies down, causing fading of the colours. Often pseudo-ribbons are the lightest, their colour depending on the coloration of the main body.

I put """art""" of nane below XD

I am no artist. These are, in order, 1. Royal nane drawn with my laptop touchpad on my english pdf with tasks 2. Me wanting to check out my 3 new pens with pretty colours. Another royal drawn completely with no reference as to how muscles should work, just freestyle vibing 3. Me drawing a whole nane just to get an excuse to draw nane dick <3 in the process making up a heavily tatooed royal nane whose also a Marked of god of wealth, indulgence and addiction.

What is fun that they have 3 different kinds of pseudo-ribbons. In the order, jerky ribbons, which remind plates of crumpled up, ripped at the edges cloth. The second has a plain monoribbon, resembling a singluar, plain, fused fin. The final one has a leafy pseudoribbon structure, with a few long strands from which smaller, leaf-like forms grow out of. There can be other pseudoribbons structures and they mostly depend on genetics.

[toxx-apex-727]

[AN ODD VIDEO. WATCH IT?]

[RECORDING START]

Toxx stumbles into the bathroom, searching for ibuprofen. His chest hurt for some strange reason, and he felt oddly sick. He suddenly feels a sharp pain, coughing aggressively. His hand pulls away to reveal blood. A lot of it. His chest feels like it's tearing apart, and he collapses to the floor. He's struggling to breathe, between the bloody pain in his chest and the violent bloody coughing. He tries to take his already stained shirt off, but he's struggling.

Isohiri rushes in, horrified by the bloody sight. He helps get Toxx's shirt off, gently moving him to the bathtub. Toxx's long-since-healed top surgery scars are open again, pouring out blood. He's Fleshing Out. Toxx can hear Malu apologizing to him through their telepathic link. Isohiri tries to heal his boyfriend, but it's in vain. The scars keep re-opening, Toxx keeps coughing blood.

Elsewhere in the apartment, Skel receives a warning. Arsène hears the same concerning sounds as Skel can and can feel the impending disaster. This will end horribly. Skel, unfortunately, has a bad habit of making bad decisions while stressed.

Skel walks in on the bloody scene. His roommate- his brother- covered in blood, barely conscious in the bathtub. He rushes to his side.

Skel: TOXX-!

Skel touches Toxx. He's ice cold.

Toxx: Sk-Skel..? get... get out- [Violent coughing] -get out of here..

Skel: no.. no no no no no-

Skel stands, slowly shuffling backwards. Skel feels something inside of him break. Any light he had left in his eyes is gone as he rushes out of the bathroom.

As he locks himself in the room he took over as his own, the screen flashes, glitching to a different scene for just a moment. The room looks much different, and Skel in particular is very different. He's much more beat up, covered in scars and wearing a tattered t-shirt and torn apart jeans. He's wearing his old glasses, though they're now broken. Most notably though, he's chained. Shackles around his wrists, ankles and neck chaining him in various directions. The chain around his neck goes upwards, the ones around his wrists seem to connect to other figures, and the ones around his ankles chain him to the floor. The scene goes back to normal, with Skel sitting against the already locked door.

A tarot card appears on the screen. Death. It crumples, tearing ever so slightly.

[RECORDING END]

[emily-chant]

Entry II - Chant

As you can imagine, things escalated from there. I spent a few minutes on the phone with the increasingly distressed administrative assistant at the front desk before uniformed police came thundering through the morgue’s double doors. I think they had shown up with the assumption that this was some kind of prank, but the exasperation - and color - drained from their faces as the sight of a naked millennial shivering in a plastic sheet. 

I won’t draw things out with all the details of their questioning, and the subsequent back-and-forth between the responding cops and the medical examiner upon the latter’s return from lunch. Suffice to say I had nothing to offer them by way of explanation, and the examiner was in very much the same boat. 

By all accounts, I was brought in with a vicious, gaping laceration down the center of my chest - every bit the lifeless corpse. After documenting my information and tagging my wrist, the examiner left to grab a burrito. I know, it’s not a satisfying answer for anyone involved. 

The cops dug up a spare set of scrubs, which I gratefully slid into, and brought me over to the station for further questioning. I could tell that the day’s events had weirded them out tremendously, and my total amnesia was a long way from putting them at ease. They answered most of the questions I had - where we were (American city on the East Coast), what day it was (Thursday, October 4th), was I under arrest (I wasn’t). The more actionable questions - notably among them “what is going to happen to me” - they assured would be addressed once we got to the precinct. 

Arriving at the station, they hustled me inside. Moving briskly past the curious glances of cops, concerned citizens, and criminals alike, they found the designated interrogation room and opened the door to let me in. It turned out that it wasn’t like the procedurals on TV where they keep the interviewee waiting. A detective was already waiting for me, with a steaming cup of coffee and a bottled water in front of the vacant chair opposite him. 

Still barefoot, I padded over to the metal seat and slid uncomfortably into it. Despite the responding cops’ awkward assurances, I still felt like I was in trouble. The rational part of my mind, clinging to logic like Odysseus to his mast, reminded me in vain that I had done nothing wrong, that the police were just as dumbfounded by my circumstances as I was. It had limited success. 

The detective, a veteran with intense eyes and significant beer gut, introduced himself as Lieutenant Hill and, again, assured me that I was not in trouble. 

“Understand kid, it’s not every day that a dead girl wakes up and scares the ME’s secretary half to death.” He began riffling through a folder containing several important looking documents before looking up again. “You hungry?”

I shook my head, a jerky, insectile motion. My stomach was in knots; I doubted I could keep anything more substantial than coffee down. Hill seemed to pick up on this. He pressed down on an intercom, installed in the wall to his right, and buzzed in. 

“Hey Ramirez, can you get the kid some soup?” He turned back to me, “You like chicken noodle?” I shrugged, and he buzzed into the intercom again. “Chicken noodle, if they have it.”

As it turned out, I like chicken noodle soup. I spooned the hot broth into my mouth, slowly at first, then faster, as Hill laid out all the documentation he had surrounding my untimely demise. 

The pictures were the worst. I hadn’t clearly seen my reflection since waking up, so the bloody, clinical photographs of my stricken corpse were my first reintroduction to my own appearance. One more thing to work out in therapy, I guess. 

My body was splayed out on the floor of an abandoned apartment building, Hill explained. My shirt had been torn down the center of its V-neck a good eleven inches or so, and the bloody mess that had been my sternum yawned from between the ripped fabric. The rest of my clothes were untouched. 

CSI had noted that there were ligatures on my neck and wrists, indicating bruising from some kind of restraint while my attacker mangled my upper torso, but otherwise no sign of a struggle. The ME hypothesized in his early remarks that I had died before I could bleed out.  Hill indicated that it “looked like some Temple of Doom shit,” a reference I definitely did not understand at the time.

I took in these details with an aberrant cocktail of shocked detachment and rabid curiosity. I couldn’t remember anything. Even the goriest of these facts I absorbed with gratitude - anything to help me frame my own existence. But if Hill thought that presenting them to me would help jog my memory, I was forced to disappoint him. These things would might as well have happened to someone else, for all the good it did my recollections. 

Ultimately, the detective slid over a thin black wallet, which turned out to be mine. Inside was an out-of-state driver’s license, about thirty bucks, a credit card, and - if you can believe it - an honest-to-god library card. All of it, the cash excepted, was labeled as belonging to “Emily Chant,” and the picture on the license matched the face of the corpse in the photographs - only slightly livelier. 

I just stared at the wallet’s contents for a minute, taking them in, as a well of emotion broke through the barrier of my traumatic shock. Confusion, fear, relief, anger, all of it flooded my senses and threatened to overwhelm me. I exist, I remember thinking, I’m a person, I’m alive. But what can’t I remember?

Hill watched me in thoughtful silence before speaking up, “Gonna be a bit of a pain, but we’ll reach out to the Jersey City Police and get you home. Once you’re back hopefully you’ll be able to -”

The detective was cut off by an abrupt buzz from the intercom. 

“Andy, we got someone here for your Jane Doe.”

Hill’s eyebrows arched up in surprise before furrowing in suspicion, but the intercom continued. 

“Says he’s her lawyer.” 

[eternal-gromnommer]

Been checking out Elden Ring and it looks pretty dope. The open-worldness gives an endless array of storytelling options and man, the real sell of this game is the lore. The deep lore surrounding each boss, each character, even subtle details that have so much plot-relevance in them, mmm peak worldbuilding. Zullie the Witch on YT is a great rabbit hole to fall into with their deep analysis of all sorts of game details and even an in-depth look into the behind-the scenes stuff that may even reveal some scrapped details that show what could habe been.

By far my favorite boss in the game has got to be Dragonlord Placidusax: he's best summed up as "what if King Ghidorah was a Sith Lord with Force lightning". Especially memorable since when you find him he's basically a walking fossil. He's been torn apart, his skin has turned to stone, his hair is loose and scraggly, he's missing chunks off his body like his rear wings and tail and most notably three neck stumps dangle from his body, implying he once had FIVE heads and by the time you encounter him he's down to two.

And yet, he's still ABSURDLY powerful.

From his rain of red lightning to his claw attack to his vanishing into the air and the golden flame breath that condenses into a focused beam a la Shin Godzilla, he's one of the hardest bosses and is absolutely relentless. And this is after he's been gravely wounded and maimed and weathered by time and reduced to a shell of his former self. This seems to be a recurring theme in Elden Ring: the enemies you fight are broken husks of what they used to be, like Rennala being once a powerful sorceress but is now reduced to a PTSD-stricken wreck obsessed with an egg, or the Fire Giant with a crippled leg who is the last of his kind. Though I feel Placidusax embodies this theme greatest: just how powerful was he at his strongest? And exactly what did that to him to put him into such a sorry state?

Thought I'd try drawing my take on what Placidusax might have looked like in his prime. Could you just imagine a DLC involving time travel where in the "space outside of time" you can encounter and battle a five-headed, four-winged, fully-intact Placidusax in the height of his power? IMAGINE THE FIVE-HEADED LASER BEAM ATTACK. Please make it happen, FromSoftware.

[the-void-writes]

“I can’t lose you.” / “I can’t do this without you.”

I can’t thank you enough for giving me this idea because I can finally work on Henry with a clear mind 💖 Hope you enjoy some lengthy poly comfort

Freaks Of Preston - Believe That I Love You

Rio and Henry had fallen in love with the same man under vastly different circumstances. Henry was the friendly neighbor, the helping hand and best friend that Jason could go to for a laugh and a fun night. Rio was a shoulder to cry on, a light on the horizon of a dark ocean, a broken soul that fit the pieces Vesely had torn from Jason’s heart. One symbolized kindness and warmth— the other, strength and hope. He could have made any choice, and they would have understood.

Instead, Jason chose both of them.

“I can’t lose you,” he told them, “either of you. You mean too much to me.”

So they agreed to stick together, to be there for the man who had changed their lives. Henry wasn’t bothered by it in the slightest. Rio was a nice person, despite his loyalties to Vesely, and he was definitely beautiful. Most notably, he was the reason Henry still had his godson. Truly, he had no problem opening his heart to him.

One night, after a fun bit of drinks and talking, things got intimate. Jason hadn’t slept with Rio since they broke up, but when he kissed him that night, it was like they had never split in the first place. Tears peeked from the corners of their eyes as their hands reconnected once more. Henry smiled to himself as he hugged Jason from behind, listening to the delightful sounds that his partner made. Rio clearly knew how to work him well.

That was when it hit him; Rio knew how to treat him because he had known Jason longer. Six years against Henry’s four.

He knew better than to blame himself for Vesely’s mad plan, and he was grateful to Rio for protecting Jason all this time, but when he saw them together, he saw the time that had been taken from him. The birthdays, holidays, dinner parties, warm summer nights, every day he could have spent with the man he dreamed of marrying… He had missed it all.

A hand fell on his shoulder. Rio looked at him with a hint of sadness and understanding in his one good eye.

“Switch with me,” he said.

Henry fixed his glasses. “Sorry?”

“It’s not fair hogging him like this.” Rio smiled slightly. “Come here so you can kiss him properly.”

“Yes,” Jason said, brushing the curls of Henry’s beard, “come join me. I feel like I haven’t seen you all day.”

Henry shook his head. “Oh, I wouldn’t wanna take your fun from you.”

“It’s not fun if you’re not here with us.”

“He’s right,” Rio said. “You get the best noises out of him.”

Jason shoved his arm with an annoyed but loving smile on his face. Henry shifted closer to Rio.

“Are you sure you’re okay with this?”

“I’ve kept you from him long enough, Henry. He deserves your love far more.”

They both stared at him, guilt flashing across their faces. Jason pulled him into his arms and brushed his hair while Henry squeezed his hand.

“You’re not a monster,” Henry said.

“You know what I’ve done.”

“Gabe is the one to blame,” Jason said. “You were protecting your family.”

“Jay, you don’t have to make me feel better. It’s okay.”

Jason stroked his cheek. “Can you at least believe that I love you?”

Rio closed his eyes and nodded. “You’re too sweet, but yes.”

Henry smiled. “Yeah, he’s always been a sweetheart. It’s like he’s really—”

“An angel.”

“Exactly.”

Jason hid his face. “I’m banning the word ‘angel’ for the rest of the night.”

Rio laughed. “Don’t worry, I’ve got other words I can use.”

He took Henry’s place behind Jason, kissing the back of his neck. Jason smiled and pulled Henry into his embrace. His gentle hands traced the rolls and curves of Henry’s torso, admiring him as a sculptor would a statue. God, he had missed his touch so much.

“Hey, Henry,” Rio said, “I hope you don’t mind sharing your tricks.”

Henry leaned close to kiss Jason, and pride swelled in his chest as Jason melted against him. He still knew how to please his partner.

“With pleasure.”

[storytellerofuntoldlegends]

gods and the mortals they worship

A/N: honestly this idea started out due to the fact that scott and jack are gonna be housemates, and a friend and i were like "haha what if c!scott moved into Innit Hotel with jack" which turned into "haha what if c!scott was the god of mcc but he just seemed like a Dude to everyone else" which made my brain go brrr and think "haha what if god!scott and goddess!kristin met for tea" and then this fic happened. it got much angstier than i intended it to whoops

Warnings: implied/referenced temporary character death, grief/mourning, hugs, emotional hurt/comfort

Summary: Kristin, the goddess of death. Scott, the god of champions. Two deities that at first glance, have nothing to do with the other. But all the same, the two deities are close friends, meeting for tea and talking about the mortals they adore. However, some conversations painfully remind them of the mortality of their loved ones.

-

Kristin rather enjoyed it when a fellow deity joined her for tea. Not many would, XD was a little wary of her, being her opposite in a sense. And his sister Drista visited her often enough, but the young goddess was a bit on the rambunctious side, which was expected for the trickster. But the deity's whose visits pleased her the most were Scott's. The god of champions was always lovely to chat with, and she looked forward to each event he organized- always rooting for her husband's team, of course.

They met for tea weekly, but this visit... something seemed off about Scott. He seemed cheery enough, talking about how he had recently moved into the Innit Hotel with Jack and the other servers he was drifting between. But there was a melancholy expression on his face for a brief moment as he traced the flower pattern on his teacup, and a lost, faraway expression would come over his face from time to time. These were expressions Kristin recognized all too well- grief. She saw it in the faces of many mortals when she called their loved ones to her side- and it was unnerving to say the least to see such an expression on a god's face.

"Who are you mourning?" she asked, startling Scott slightly. The god's ever color-shifting eyes refused to meet her.

"The loss of my mcc team, of course," Scott countered with a half-hearted smirk. Kristin gave him an expression of disbelief, and the smirk melted away to something more downcast as he fiddled with something on a chain around his neck. A ring.

"Oh Scott," she said softly.

"Tried the married life thing. It was nice, for a bit. But it was a modified hardcore world, and it didn't end well. For him... or for me," Scott said, hand drifting to his throat with a grimace. Kristin set down her tea, placing a comforting hand on Scott's shoulder. Scott had a unique position as a god- he was one of the few who felt the sting of death. As he willingly lived among mortals most of the time, his godly power had to be diminished to do so. Which meant he could die- but it would never truly stick for him. Granted, death didn't really stick for most of the crowd he stuck around with. They would be reborn into other servers, maybe retaining impressions of the ones before- but Scott was the only one who truly remembered each server he had been on.

"I'm so sorry. Is he..." Kristin trailed off, unsure if she wanted to know if Scott's husband had been reborn into a different server.

"He's on another server with me now. Empires SMP. Calls himself the Codfather these days. I keep hoping he'll remember... but I don't know if I want him to," Scott said, eyes watery.

"Why not?" Kristin asked. If she was in a similar situation with Phil, she absolutely would want him to remember her.

"Because what kind of god can't even keep his husband alive?! I couldn't protect him before, who says I could do it now. Besides with my luck, by the time he'd remember me, I'd only lose him again. Why waste the effort on more heartbreak," Scott said, something vengeful in his tone. The aura around him tinged red, and Kristin drew her hand back with a jolt. Scott took notice of his surroundings, and with a sheepish smile his aura shifted to something more neutral and warm.

"That's why you're hiding in the Dream SMP with Jack, isn't it? You don't want to risk him remembering," Kristin asked softly. Scott let out a sigh.

"I'm not... hiding, exactly. Just lying low, somewhere where I don't have to pretend I'm not a god," Scott explained with a faraway glance.

“What if you were to tell this... Codfather," Kristin suggested. Scott wrinkled his nose in disgust in the name.

"Jimmy. His name is Jimmy," Scott corrected, sounding reverent as he murmured his name the second time. It was almost silly, a god worshipping the ground a mortal walked on- not that Kristin was one to talk. But then again, Phil wasn't exactly mortal.

"Then why don't you tell Jimmy the truth about who you are," Kristin prodded. Few knew the truth about Scott's godly status- Phil, most notably, and Wilbur. And now, she supposed, all who were on the Dream SMP. Otherwise, most knew Scott as someone who had a connection to the god of champions, and carried out his invitations to the games- not that Scott himself was the god in question.

"I... I don't know. Maybe it's safer for him if he never knows," Scott said with a sigh. Kristin squinted at him suspiciously.

"Scott, I've known you for centuries. Tell me the real reason you don't want to tell him," she said pointedly. Scott laughed nervously, rubbing the back of his neck. With a deep breath, his expression settled into something more solemn.

"I don't want things to be different between us. I liked the way it was, on that modified hardcore world. We had a flower valley, with a pond and overgrowth and- and his silly insistence on wanting to protect me, like I was the fragile one, not him. I even experienced a brief afterlife with him, after we had lost all our lives on that world. And that... that was beautiful. But then things reset, and he was reincarnated. And how could I not follow him?" Scott said wistfully. His eyes shone with bittersweet tears, a fond smile on his face.

"You truly have the heart of a mortal, my friend," Kristin said with a soft smile. Scott chuckled, shaking his head.

"Well I certainly can't let anyone know that, think of my reputation," he joked. Kristin laughed.

"Oh please, we all know how much you cherish your champions," she teased.

"Don't tell a soul," Scott said in a mock-serious tone.

"Oh please, the only souls I know are dead ones," Kristin replied with a chuckle. Scott laughed too, but it fell short as his eyes landed on the flowers that decorated the teacups.

"I think the worst part is that he sees me as an enemy. I guess rightfully so, I pushed him away because I was afraid of letting him back in. I don't think I'll be able to look him in the eyes if we end up on the opposite sides of a battle," Scott said, voice fragile as the delicate teacups on the table before them.

"Maybe there's still time to make amends. You could extend some token of peace towards him?" Kristin suggested gently.

"Maybe. I just..." Scott trailed off.

"You just want to mope around in a world of constant hardship and destruction?" Kristin teased lightly, smirking. Scott laughed.

"I guess the Dream SMP isn't the greatest place to hide out," he said, still chuckling. Kristin was relieved to see her friend back to his more genuine smiley self, multicolored eyes glinting with amusement.

"Maybe not. Are Phil and Wilbur staying out of trouble?" Kristin asked, picking her tea back up to sip at. Scott laughed again.

"Staying out of trouble is asking a lot for your family. But I think Phil has forced Wilbur to make friends with Ranboo," he replied, picking up his tea as well.

"Oh? How did that go?" Kristin asked.

"Not sure, honestly. I think they opened a burger place? I've mostly been keeping to myself in the Innit Hotel," Scott said with a shrug.

"I'm sure Tommy loves that," Kristin said dryly.

"Oh yes, cussed me out until I threatened to not let him on mcc anymore. He changed his tune pretty quickly," Scott laughed.

"Doesn't Jack actually own the hotel now?" Kristin asked.

"Yes, but Tommy doesn't seem to know that," Scott answered with a sigh, shaking his head.

"I'm sure he'll get over it. Probably still a little jumbled from being brought back," Kristin muttered, unable to help looking miffed at that. She wasn't exactly fond of people being torn from her domain, especially by an overzealous mortal and the god who he eerily resembled. Although she couldn't exactly blame XD, the book had called him and he was forced to answer.

“Maybe life and death shouldn’t be toyed with anymore,” Scott said softly, after a few beats of silence. Kristin thought of Scott’s struggles with death and rebirth, then thought of her own family. Her husband who survived and lived, never dying- and her son, who fought and died, but ended up living.

“You wouldn’t see me complaining,” Kristin replied, voice coming out more melancholy than she meant it to. Scott looked to her with brows creased in sympathy.

“What a pair we make,” he said with a humorless laugh. Kristin laughed too, just as bleak as Scott’s own laugh.

“The goddess of death whose loved ones live, and the god of champions whose loved ones lose,” she said, voice forlorn. Scott set down his tea, dropping his gaze from Kristin’s.

“I do tend to be drawn towards the lost ones, don’t I?” he said with a weak smile.

“Nothing wrong with rooting for the underdog,” Kristin pointed out with a shrug. Scott looked at the flowers on the teacups, and his smile was a bit brighter this time around, less sad and bittersweet.

“I guess not. Maybe you’re right, maybe there is time to smooth things out with Jimmy,” Scott said, looking back up at Kristin.

“Good! Being mopey doesn’t suit you. And telling him the truth couldn’t hurt either,” Kristin insisted brightly. Scott rolled his eyes with a chuckle.

“Okay Mumza, no need to get on my case. I said I’d try and smooth things over, not reveal that I’m an all-powerful god that was married to him once because I like playing mortal,” he replied, dragging out her nickname with a teasing grin. Kristin grinned back.

“I guess your situation is a little different than when I told Phil I was a goddess,” she said semi-sheepishly.

“Phil was also hopelessly head-over-heels for you when you told him. Jimmy is decidedly not,” Scott pointed out with a laugh.

“Oh Jimmy will come around eventually. If he knows what’s good for him,” Kristin said, sipping at her tea. Scott blinked at her in confusion.

“Are you threatening my ex-husband?” he asked, tone so adorably baffled that Kristin couldn’t help but laugh.

“All I meant was that he doesn’t know what he’s missing. Any man would be lucky to have captured your attention," she clarified with a teasing grin. Scott flushed in embarrassment, the aura around him tinging pink.

“You’re acting like an embarrassing mum trying to convince her son to get out there and start dating,” Scott huffed, trying to play off his flusteredness.

“You’re the one who called me ‘Mumza,’” Kristin pointed out, still grinning.

“This is rude, I’m being attacked and you’re twisting my words against me now-” Scott cut off with a laugh, unable to keep up the mock-offended act as his aura shifted back to being a neutral warm color. Scott finally looked the most himself that he had been all day- aura full of warmth, a smile on his face, and color-shifting eyes sparkling.

“Oh, whatever will you do?” Kristin teased. Scott shook his head, picking up his tea and finishing it off with one last sip before standing from the table.

“I think I’m gonna leave, actually. It’s about time I head out anyway,” Scott said. Kristin looked at how low her own tea had gotten, and sighed before standing with a gentle smile.

“Well as always, it was wonderful to have you. I hope everything works out,” she said softly, holding out her arms. Scott hugged her without hesitation, and Kristin got the feeling he was silently thanking her for her advice through the hug.

“See you next week?” Scott asked after he pulled away.

“I look forward to it,” Kristin replied. Scott smiled, giving a two-fingered salute before disappearing in a burst of color. The lightshow faded, leaving Kristin in her rather gloomy domain. The loneliness after a fellow deity left was always the worst, and the heavy conversation from before didn’t help matters much. Scott and Kristin were very similar beings for two deities that ruled over extremely different things- both of their hearts were too big, too smitten with mortals. Scott could at least compete alongside mortals if he so chose, but Kristin was in a plane of existence that her loved ones could only reach through tragedy. Perhaps Scott had it worse- Kristin could at least distance herself from mortals, while Scott stubbornly refused to. But all the same, Kristin was hopeful that things would work out for the god of champions. And maybe, things would work out for her family as well.

-

MCYT Taglist: @corazon10000 @damiensaidno @franticfandomfanatic @hetapeep41 @space-ace123

[pygmaliontheory]

Mateo reference :)

Learn more about him here, or check out his tag on the blog here.

[ID: A character reference sheet for Mateo Cuevas, whose name is displayed at the bottom right corner of the sheet. It includes five drawings and a color palette over a simple reddish grey background.

The leftmost drawing is a fullbody of Mateo. He is standing, facing the viewer head on, arms by his side. He's a zombie, slightly stocky in build. His brown skin is desaturated and green tinted, and he has several open wounds across his body. Most notably, a large chunk of skin and flesh has been removed from his upper right arm, he has many slashes going down the entirety of his left arm, and the right third of his mouth has been torn away, exposing bone. He has straight, messy hair that goes down to the lower half of his neck and covers most of his face. He's wearing a black tank top with bright red edges, red pants that are much more desaturated and purple than the highlights on his t-shirt, and black shoes.

The top middle drawing is a profile headshot of Mateo, showing off the torn away flesh on the right side of his face and his prominent nose. The top right drawing is another headshot, this time turned 3/4ths of the way to the camera. Mateo's hair has been parted to reveal his right eye, which is a light brown. His skin is sagging considerably under this eye. The bottom middle drawing is yet another headshot, this time very small and simplified. The bottom right drawing is of a white canvas bag. End ID.

[danakin-skywalker]

Star Crossed (Danny Wagner): Chapter Four *FINALE*

Two bands, both alike in dignity

At Lollapalooza where we lay our scene

From ancient grudge break to new mutiny

……. a pair of star cross’d lovers………

Taglist:@flowervanfleet @weightofdreams-gvf @sierraahhhh @stardustschords @amourleger @ageofsewingmachine@theweightofstardust @samkiszkabreakmyback @gretavanhoney @koifishkoifish @prettyintopeerpressure @greta-flanveet @fosterkidwiththebrokenjaw​ and potentially you, just lmk! (also if you asked to be added specifically to this fic’s taglist and want to continue to be tagged in my future work, also lmk)

(A/N): Well, all good things eventually must come to an end. This chapter marks the conclusion of the Star-Crossed Saga and I can’t express enough how thankful I am to everyone who read, liked and/or commented on this series. It hasn’t been my most popular but I’m really proud of how it turned out. I can’t say I’m really jumping to write another chaptered fic anytime soon, just because this one took so much planning and time and as we/ve seen I’m not *amazing* at posting on a schedule. But now that this is done I can get started on Active pt II and the requests I have in my ask box. Until then, enjoy the finale!

********************************************************************

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Y/N POV

By some incredible stroke of luck, I made it back to the tent after my brothers had fallen asleep. I carefully climbed into my sleeping bag and tucked myself in tightly, hoping that if either of the boys stirred they wouldn’t see the fresh set of love bites decorating my neck, chest and inner thighs. I wanted to be annoyed at Danny for this habit of his, marking me up, but I couldn’t possibly admit that it didn’t also exhilarate me to walk around adorned with proof that someone loves me. 

And that was the last thought that ran through my head before I was whisked off to sleep. He loves me.

That warm fuzzy feeling flowing through me, however, was notably absent when I woke up the next morning with a shiver. I was startled to find my sleeping bag zipped open, and my hair tossed to the side. Even more startling, the tent was noticeably empty save for me and the entrance was partially left ajar, hence the cool breeze that stirred me from my slumber. I took a few moments to take in my surroundings before my heart sank to my stomach like a brick in water. I scrambled out of the tent, throwing on shoes before all but sprinting to Danny’s campsite, hoping by some stroke of luck I could get there before my brothers did.

DANNY POV

I tried my best to rub the remaining sleep from my eyes in effort to hide how late I had returned to the tent the night before. My hair was down and my shirt fully buttoned to hide any proof of our late night hijinks, knowing if the guys found out it would only push me further onto their shit list. We ate breakfast in tense silence. I knew Jake had probably told them I was going to see her last night, and the fact that I was in such good spirits this morning probably told enough. 

Suddenly, from the other side of the table, Jake groaned, “Oh what the fuck is she doing back?”

I spun my head around to see none other than Y/N, still in the same clothes I had torn off of her the night prior, racing toward our site. 

“Jesus, Danny, great job ending things.” Sam muttered into his coffee sarcastically.

I opened my mouth to say something snarky back to him, but hesitated when I saw the look on her face. The sheer panic in her eyes. And I rose from the table as she approached us breathlessly. “What’s wrong?”

“They’re coming.” She heaved out between breaths. “I don’t know where they are, they were gone when I woke up, but they know and they’re pissed.”

I heard Jake and Sam stand up at her words, in alarm but also in suspicion.

“Why should we believe a word out of your mouth?” Jake challenged, and I watched her raise an eyebrow at him. “Cut the shit. What, did you tell them where we’re staying?”

I couldn’t help but roll my eyes since I was already turned away from him. But I turned back around as she retorted. “Obviously not if I got here before them. Can you consider for even a second that maybe I’m not involved in this bullshit rivalry? What reason would I even have to lie about this right now?”

Jake shrugs and steps closer to her, “To get in our heads, make us quiver with anticipation for something that’s not coming.” He took a step too close and before I could think I felt one of my arms reach out and latch onto his wrist tightly, making him stop in his tracks.

“She. Is not. Part of this.” I growled at him.

Josh finally rose from his place at the table and quickly walked over to stand between me and his twin, putting some distance between us. “Okay, okay, let’s all just chill out for a second. No need to escalate this any further.”

“Oh, I think we’re not quite escalated enough.” To my side, Y/N let out a shaky breath as she looked past us. I followed her gaze and, sure enough, was met by the two aging members of Thunder Bugs, standing tall and looking angry.

Their eyes flitted across the group until they landed on me, and knit their brows curiously.

“Oh, new drummer? Took my advice then, Kiszka?” The shorter one said. I clenched my jaw in anger, and Jake stalked right up to him until they were neck and neck. Y/N and I ran over to try and pull our respective boys back.

“You fucking wish you could take credit for any of the shit we’ve done with Danny on board.” Jake spat at him as I tried to tug him back, before he looked up at me and threw my hands off of him with a scowl.

“Jackson, stop it!” Y/N grunted as she wedged herself against her brother and pushed him back. “Heath, what are you guys even doing here?”

Her taller brother, Heath I guess, stood with his arms crossed as his eyes burned holes into mine, taking slow steps closer to me. “I’m not pleased with the condition new kid is returning our baby sister in every night.” 

I couldn’t help but raise my eyebrows at his statement. Unless something has been happening on her walks home she seemed to be returning in what could be considered high spirits to say the least.

My expression must’ve displeased the other one, Jackson, because he reached over to Y/N and harshly tugged down the collar of her flannel and hiked up her left leg, revealing dark hickies I knew would be there. “That jog your memory?” He snarled. She gasped at the sudden aggressive contact and flushed at all the eyes on her body. My hands tightened into fists in anger. 

He dropped his hands just as quickly as he had moved them and stepped closer to me. “What game are you playing at here? Huh? Marking up my sister? Claiming your territory? Claiming what’s ours?”

He stepped closer and closer with every question until we were nose to nose. He was shorter than me, but looked stronger. Anyone’s game. I felt Jake, Josh and Sam move to stand behind me in case he struck. “She’s not yours.” I spoke through gritted teeth, doing everything in my power to not throw the first punch.

He laughed in my face, letting his head fall back slightly before his face fell dark again. “Well she’s certainly not yours to mark up like your own personal cash whore.”

Before I could think, my arms were shooting toward him and being pulled back by two more sets of arms behind me before I could reach him, another holding me by the collar of my shirt. I didn’t have to look to see the shocked faces of my band mates as I fought against their hold. I’m certainly not typically one to start a fight.

Jackson laughed that smug fucking laugh again as he took a few steps back, holding his stomach lightly with how much of a fucking kick he was getting out of my fury. “You know what, I’m glad we ran into each other again. Because now you’re not little fucking kids and I can kick your ass like a man.”

Jake and Sam loosened their hold on me at his words, taking their own steps toward him. That is, until Y/N spun Jackson toward her and slapped him hard across the face. 

All four of us froze in shock.

Y/N POV

Silence fell over the campground as all eyes turned to me. Jackson’s hand reached up to rub his fast-reddening cheek. What can I say? I give a good bitch slap. However, the several groups of people passing by who stopped at the noise made the situation even further less than ideal.

“You guys are ridiculous! All of you.” I turned to look at Danny’s band mates as well to make sure they knew I was talking about them just as much as my brothers. “Both of you think the other is plotting against them when in reality, none of this relationship has anything to do with you.”

Heath came up behind Jackson, turning him to examine his face, “Stay out of this, Y/N, this isn’t your fight.”

My eyebrows shot up and I whipped my head over to face Danny and his band mates. “Oh, what? What was that? One more time for the asshole in the back?” I locked eyes with Jake as I lifted my hand to my ear in exaggeration, and he squinted at me. But the view of Danny’s lips curling into a small smile in my peripheral egged me on. “It’s… not my fight? Revolutionary.”

“Well you’ve certainly managed to weasel your way into it.” Jake bit out.

I stepped closer to him (them, I suppose). “Yeah, no thanks to you, jackass.” I could see Josh and Sam’s eyebrows fly up at the way I was talking back to him. “The problem is that you’re all too stubborn to admit that the shit you said about each other all those years ago turned out to be true.”

This time, Jake arched a brow in surprise. “Oh yeah? Enlighten me.”

I rolled my eyes at him, “I mean clearly the problem was rooted in the fact that you guys were missing Danny. Did your drummer act unprofessionally? Yes, even you can’t argue that. Have you since solved that problem with a new drummer and become better for it? Yes! Why is all of this even still relevant?”

My head turned to Sam as he piped up, “It’s still relevant because they had no reason to come down on us the way they did! We aren’t the ones in the wrong here!”

“You aren’t the only ones in the wrong.” I corrected him, turning around to face my brothers again, whose smug smirks dropped when they met my gaze.

“Admit it. You guys were washed up. You let the fame get to your head and I watched you come home complete strangers in the shape of my brothers. That’s why you needed to stop. And I watched you slowly change back, day by day, into the boys I grew up with who were obsessed with making music and not fucking fan statistics and asserting dominance over goddamn teenagers!”

Jackson sent me an angry frown, but I knew that deep down just like Heath he knew I was right. 

I stepped back to address the whole group again. “And the worst part about all of this is… You’re all so talented. So talented. You make this beautiful music and you have this bitter hatred inside and it makes me sick.” I found my voice cracking a bit by the end, overwhelmed by the situation and desperate for it to not end in a fistfight that would jeopardize both bands’ futures. “Can’t you see you’re turning into the very thing you despise?”

Again, a moment of deafening silence fell over the campground. Suddenly nobody wanted to look at me, until Heath heaved a sigh and tilted his head up to me, “Listen, Y/N, you know I agree with you on this. But you don’t know this guy at all. Your brother and I, we’ve been to our fair share of festivals and we’ve seen the other end of little flings like this, the male musician end.” He raised his eyebrows knowingly when he said the last part, before adjusting his gaze to glare at Danny. “And I’m not gonna sit here and let this motherfucker turn my little sister into his little music festival slampiece when you have real feelings for him.”

My mouth dropped open in disgust at his words. Jackson and his temper were one thing, but this was a devastating blow from Heath. In a split second, I saw a flash of black hair whip past me and suddenly Danny was right in Heath’s face. “DON’T YOU DARE TALK ABOUT HER LIKE THAT! I LOVE HER!” He roared.

Danny had his fists closed tightly around the collar of Heath’s shirt and Heath’s eyes were blown wide open, clearly not expecting this intense of a response. Before Jackson or the other guys could get involved and make the situation worse, I quickly approached them and put a hand on Danny’s shoulder, feeling the tension ease a bit at my touch. His fists loosened and released Heath’s shirt. I gently guided him back and slid my hand down to entwine it in his.

Much calmer, but still with earnest intention, Danny spoke again, “Can’t you idiots see we’re in love? You’ve been so selfish you assumed this relationship was about you when it never was.” He turned his head between the two bands to address everyone.

I watched as everyone stared dumbly back at us, unable to form a response. I quickly grew impatient and blurted out, “You know what? Fuck it, I don’t care anymore. Hate each other forever. Duke it out right here in the middle of a public space for all I care. Just please, for fuck’s sake, leave us alone.” With that I turned around and Danny turned with me, throwing an arm around my shoulders as we walked away from their dumbfounded looks. I could feel five pairs of eyes burning into my back as we disappeared into the forest.

We stayed silent as we walked down the trail, both trying to process everything that just went down. It wasn’t until we reached the mildly-populated creek that tears started falling down my face. Danny immediately enveloped me in a hug, squeezing me tightly against his chest. “Shhh, don’t cry. Everything’s gonna be okay.” He murmured into my hair, neither of us knowing how true that statement could possibly be.

He held me for another few minutes while my tears gradually stopped, before he leaned down to whisper, “You know, that was pretty badass of you back there; speaking up and calling everyone out. It was… it was kinda hot.”

The comment achieved its desired goal when I let out a muffled snort into Danny’s chest, before pulling back a bit to peer up at him. He reached his hand up to wipe away the last few tears from my puffy eyes. 

“Yeah, well you don’t look too bad either when you’re ready to throw hands to defend my honor.” I mumbled with a small smile. 

Danny chuckled down at me, before letting his face fall again slightly at the thought of the encounter. “You know none of what your brothers said is true right? I would never consider you a… I would never think of you as that. You know that right? This isn’t just a fling to me.” His hands came to rest at my cheeks as he held my gaze closely.

I nodded slowly, wincing a bit as I replayed the conversation in my head as well. “I know that, Danny. You’ve never made me feel that way once. My brothers just… Sometimes they think they know everything about everything and they just don’t.” I looked to the side and rested my head against his shoulder. “They know nothing about us. None of them.”

I reached my hand up to rest it onto Danny’s chest and he reached a hand up to enclose his around mine. “Let’s just try not to think about them right now.” He murmured, as he lightly started to sway our bodies. It wasn’t until that moment that I realized we were, in fact, in a slow-dancing position.

I closed my eyes as he slowly rocked us back and forth, gradually spinning in a circle. It only took a few moments for him to start humming a song that I soon recognized as “Rocky Mountain High;” the song he was playing when our eyes met for the first time. It’s not really a romantic song by nature, but it couldn’t have felt more amorous as I started to hum along with him, lost in the glowing warmth of Danny’s presence against me.

By the time the song ended, we were just repeating the outro into each other's ears, hoping to make the intimate moment last. 

And this was how my brothers and his bandmates found the two of us when they approached the clearing of the trail. They stopped short of approaching us immediately, taking a moment to watch the two of us entwined in each other, completely lost in our own little world. It wasn’t until Danny’s eyes reopened and he halted his movements that I even knew they were there. I turned to follow his gaze and squeezed his hand a bit when I saw them. We pulled away a bit to stand next to each other, hand still interlocked, waiting for someone to start talking.

To my surprise, it was Jake who spoke first, “Look, we owe you an apology. All of us. We…” He paused for a moment to find the right words. Or maybe to drum up the humility to say what he did next. “We were wrong. We jumped to conclusions and wedged our way into a relationship that’s none of our business, all because we were blinded by some stupid years-old grudge.”

Sam piped up next, “It’s clear to us now that you guys have something real and we shouldn’t have tried to come between that. We’re really really sorry.” He cast apologetic eyes onto both of us.

Again, I nodded slowly as I mulled over their words, before turning and raising my eyebrows at my brothers expectantly. Heath nudged Jackson, who sighed before looking at me earnestly, “I’m sorry. Heath and I, as usual we said some shit we shouldn’t have in the heat of the moment and I wish we could take it back. You’re our baby sister and we just wanted to protect you, and instead we ended up hurting you.”

“At the end of the day, we’re still your big brothers and we love you.” Heath added, making me crack a small smile. With an exaggerated eye roll, he shifted his gaze to Danny. “And I suppose our love will have to extend to the one you love as well. Especially when you’re willing to smack the shit out of Jackson for him.”

The rumble of soft laughter filled the silence as everyone thought back to that moment, Jackson reaching up to rub his cheek in memory. “Yeah, that hurt like a bitch, by the way.”

I raised my eyebrows at him, “Good, you were acting like one.”

After a moment, we closed the gap between the two groups and individual hugs and apologies were shared. I was sandwiched between my brothers in a conjoined bear hug, laughing as they smothered me with their bodies. Sam hugged Danny for a long time and the two whispered to each other before pulling apart. 

Danny went over to clap his hand onto Jake’s shoulder and talk to him about something, so Sam approached me. “I’m really sorry.” He mumbled, sincerity deep in his eyes. I leaned over and wrapped my arms around him, and he squeezed me back. “I should’ve just listened to him when he told me how he felt about you. He talks about you like you hang the stars in the sky every night.” Blood rushed to my cheeks at his words, and I gave him one last squeeze before pulling away. “We don’t really know each other so I can’t speak for you, but I think you’re gonna be good for him. I really do.” He continued.

I smiled warmly up at him and he returned it. However, I turned around at the sensation of someone tapping my shoulder. When I did, I was face to face with none other than Jake. I couldn’t help the smile falling from my face slightly as I looked at him, and he sighed in acknowledgement. “Look, I’ve been a huge asshole to you and I know you probably think I’m just a terrible person by now. That isn’t me, and you didn’t deserve it. You were trying to help and we berated you for it. I don’t know how you can forgive me but I really am sorry for how I’ve treated you.” He looked down at the ground shamefully. For the first time, my heart softened a bit for him.

I reached a hand out to place it on his shoulder, and he looked up at me. “I don’t think you’re a bad person Jake. I never thought any of you were. Clearly you care a hell of a lot about Danny and he’s lucky to have a friend like you.” 

A small smile snuck onto Jake’s face and he mirrored my action, placing a hand on my shoulder as well. “What he’s really lucky for is stumbling into a girl like you in a place like this. You two really must be meant to be.”

I smiled at him and turned to look at Danny, who was now talking to my brothers. He caught my gaze and his lips curved upward slightly in recognition before returning to the conversation. I turned back to Jake and replied, “I feel lucky too. Because I really think you might be right Jake.”

I watched Jake’s smile grow for a moment before I felt someone crash into me from behind, throwing their arms around my shoulders in a tight embrace. “I’m Josh by the way! We haven’t talked yet but I don’t hate you either. You seem really sweet and I’m sorry that my brothers can be major dicks sometimes.” 

I couldn’t help but laugh at his happy-go-lucky tone as Jake leaned around me to gently kick Josh for his comment. “Well, nice to meet you, I guess, Josh!”

Once the apology-fest was winding down, we all headed back into the trail, my hand naturally falling back into Danny’s like there was a gravitational pull. I begrudgingly let go to return to me and my brother’s campsite, a little less begrudgingly when I realized I was coming up on 24 hours in these same clothes. My brothers and his bandmates were now interacting almost unrecognizeably, talking animatedly and sharing opinions about guitars and old bands and venues in the Midwest. When we went to split, we all agreed to meet up at the Rex Orange County set later in the afternoon. 

As I changed my clothes and ate from our steadily depleting stash of food in the trunk, I couldn’t seem to wipe the stupid grin off my face. Everything was resolved. Well, not everything. Today was the last day of the festival and who knew what the fate of our relationship would be when we had to part ways. In a way, this festival has felt like a bubble of sorts. Separated from the chaos of the real world waiting outside. I remembered Danny mentioning a tour and my heart sank a bit at the idea of touring once again separating me from someone I love and cherish. Yet, eager to make the most of the time we had left, I tried to push it out of my mind as we approached the Rex venue. He had already started to play, the calming tones of “Sunflower” echoing around us as we whipped our heads around searching for the boys.

Suddenly, I felt a strong pair of arms snake around my waist. With a gasp, I quickly turned and was met with a kiss on the nose from Danny, beaming down at me. “Found ya. Come on, we’re over here.” I didn’t even have time to blush before he took my hand and started pulling me through the crowd, my brothers following behind. The Kiszka brothers smiled when they saw Danny reapproaching with me and my brothers in tow. The guys greeted each other and Sam passed Jackson a joint he had lit, which my brother of course accepted happily.

Danny shuffled to stand behind me and took both of my hands in his, wrapping both of our arms slightly around my torso as he swayed a bit to the guitar pouring out of the speakers. I closed my eyes and swayed with him, allowing myself to forget for a moment that I was surrounded by my brothers and his band and thousands of strangers. I pretended it was just us.

I was pulled out of my trance when Danny mumbled into my ear, “You should join us for a leg of the tour.” I stopped swaying in surprise, tilting my head a bit to encourage him to continue. He chuckled under his breath and pressed a quick peck onto my temple before continuing, “I’m serious. We’re gonna be doing a bunch of shows in Michigan alone, probably a couple in Wisconsin too.” When I didn’t respond immediately he started rambling, “You don’t have to if you don’t want to. I know this is all still new and we can absolutely take it more slowly if-”

I loosened my hands in Danny’s to turn around and silence his worries with a kiss, guiding his hands behind me around my waist to a rest at my hips. I pulled back after a few seconds, remembering who we were around, and smiled up at him. “I’d love nothing more. And you don’t have to get so nervous around me, I love you, remember?”

As soon as the words left my mouth I realized I hadn’t actually fully articulated it yet. Said those three words in that order. Danny essentially had, in front of everyone, and somehow I hadn’t yet until now. But I certainly wasn’t looking to take them back by any means. Danny grinned down at me and pressed a slow kiss onto my forehead. “I love you too, Y/N. So much I don’t think I’ll ever not get flustered at the sight of you.”

I couldn’t help but giggle at his words as I leaned into his chest and we started swaying again. I could feel eyes on me but I couldn’t bring myself to care. Because at last, everyone who mattered didn’t mind, and for all I cared anyone left who minded could fuck off.

Because we had finally secured our happily ever after, and I wasn’t gonna let it slip away any time soon.

[jimlingss]

O SHOOT REQUESTS !!! ill take my chances and ask for a zombie apocalypse or pirate au ft. hoseok 👀 i couldnt choose between the two aus and im hoseok biased but i can honestly see any member so do as who u see fit. i will not let my pairing/au choice limit the authors talent 😤 and i dont doubt anything from you will satisfy. and pshhh,, where are my manners. please and thank u! love u 💛

↳ Crocodile Tears

1.8k || 98% Fluff, 2% Angst || Jung Hoseok || Pirate!AU

“Look what I nabbed, Cap’n.”

Gunner Taehyung’s grinning with all teeth, a golden chain wrapped around his fingers that’s so shiny it’s blinding with the sunlight. Hoseok’s intrigued and flips the locket in his hand. It’s heavy with a wild rose engraved on the front and once he pops it open, there’s a faded painted portrait of a young woman inside.

“It’s a booty, eh? Caught if off milady right over ‘ere.”

Hoseok hums and narrows his eyes on the wrench tied in rope sitting amongst the captives. Your face is dirtied, hair drawn in a bun at your crown but with many strands fallen around your face. Your gown rat’s coloured, dull gray. You are entirely unremarkable. Like any other peasant.

But it’s not often captives have something of value on them.

“Bring her to my cabin.”

“Aye, aye.”

The ship sets sail again. Taehyung keeps the captives quiet with the threat of throwing them overboard while the cabin boy Jungkook swabs the poop deck. Helmsman Seokjin mans the helm with navigator Namjoon by his side. The ship’s heading to dock at Port Galigeo to get a pretty penny for all the loot and treasures they’ve gotten after four months’ voyage.

Once steep waters are reached and everything’s been taken care of, Hoseok resumes to his cabin. There, he finds you, sitting in the corner on the floorboards with tears in your eyes. You gasp as he enters and shuts the door.

“Please! Spare me!” you beg sorrowfully. “Let me go!”

“Why should I?” Hoseok tosses his hat onto his table and his coat to his rickety chair. You look so frightful, even when he’s still in his drawers and shirt, held together by the red sash.

He fiddles with the many golden rings across his fingers, a habit since he began his adventures, and he comes over to you. Hoseok’s boots are heavy against the floorboards, and he crouches down to meet your trembling eyes.

“I-I am just a peasant,” you sob. “I have nothing to give to you! My father is merely a farmer.”

“Oh? Then what be this here?” Hoseok dangles the priceless locket in front of you as the corner of his lip curls. It catches the light from the tiny window of the cabin and the gold gleams against your eyes, practically sparkling like a jewel. 

Your eyes flicker from it to him, hiccuping and frame quivering like a damn leaf. “It’s my grandmother’s. She left it for me before she passed.”

Hoseok hums a low note. “An’ if this be your grandmother’s, how she pay for such a treasure? Unless she been a thief.”

Your downcast head shakes. “I don’t know, I don’t know.”

He pops the locket open before taking a good look at it. “This here be a portrait of you, isn’t it? You look different. Lavish. Like a noble’s daughter.”

“T-That isn’t me.”

“Then who?”

“I don’t know.” 

There’s something rather pretty in the way tears drip down your cheeks, so soft and gentle like jewels of their own right. But Hoseok has seen many women, children and men cry. It’s nothing astonishing.

Hoseok smirks, a rush of air leaving his nose. “I’ve been cap’n of this ship for nearly a decade, dearest. I’ve held treasures you could only dream of, been in battles that nearly lost my leg, sailed ‘cross the seven seas with me mates. I know when a wrench lies.”

His eyes are narrowed in on yours. And Hoseok comes closer, hand lifting to grab a hold of your chin. But before he can, before he can blink or breathe — suddenly, you brandish a piece of glass against his exposed neck. 

The ropes around you clatter to the ground. Hoseok feels the sharp edge of the glass digging into his skin, a moment away from nicking him and drawing blood. But more notably, your eyes are aflame. Your expression is dark and you’re scowling at him. 

Gone is the fragile little girl weeping for mercy.

“Don’t come closer,” you warn in a low voice without a single tremble.

He leans back, but his gaze stays on yours. “You reckon you could kill me?”

“I wouldn’t hesitate.”

Hoseok’s mouth curls, grin stretching into his cheek. His interest is piqued. He knew there was more to you beneath the surface, and he’s happy you haven’t disappointed.

His hand latches onto your wrist to force your hand away. It's a battle of strength. One that he ultimately wins as the piece of glass goes clattering on the ground out of your reach. He sees it’s part of a broken bottle. But Hoseok’s much too put off guard and when your leg kicks out at him, he’s smacked square in the chin.

He grips it as he lands on his ass, sharply exhaling. But then he bursts into chuckles.

“You got some mean spirit in you, sweetheart.”

Unfortunately for you, Hoseok has far too much experience in combat and capture. Even if you try to kick, strike and even bite him, it’s not too difficult to get you tied into ropes again. Except this time, he makes sure to use his special knots and get you so wound up, no sharp edge could free you. 

“Let me go, bastard!”

“Settle down. You’re only gettin’ yourself riled.” Hoseok crouches in front of you again and comes to wipe away the stray tear on your cheek with the pad of his thumb. You angrily scowl at him, chest rising and falling. Crying won’t get you far now, not when he knows they’re just crocodile tears. “Don’t get yourself worried about someone hurtin’ you. Everyone on this ship swears by our code, me included.”

You scoff. “As if I’d trust a pirate.”

Hoseok smirks. “If I wanted to hurt you, I would’ve done so already. It isn’t pleasin’ for me to force a girl like yourself either. Not when I have plenty o’ gold to play with a wrench at the dock. Now I suggest you behave or my Quartermaster’ll throw you overboard.”

“Then do it!” you shout at him with your entire body, only to flop over to the floorboards.

He grips the knob of the door and looks over his shoulder. “No. You’re too much of a treasure, sweetheart.”

The sun is falling over the horizon when Namjoon approaches. “Everything go well with the girl?”

Hoseok hums and turns with a glint in his eye. “Tell all hands to keep her separate.”

Port Galigeo is reached within two days time. The waters are calm without storms and the stars are clear at night. The sailing is smooth and so the docks are reached faster than ever before.

The men aboard are eager to sell the loot, to spend a few days ashore, spend nights at the brothel and replenish the rum. As follows, their steps are quick and they move the crates of jewels and tools to the harbour. Seokjin also takes care of the captives, leading them in a straight line off the gangplank to be sold.

“Cap’n! What ‘bout the beauty ‘ere.” Taehyung points to you.

Hoseok meets your eyes and you’re seething, glaring back at him. The corner of his mouth curls in amusement.

“Leave her. Tell the lad to watch over her till we return.” He points to Jungkook and Taehyung nods with an ‘aye, aye’. 

Most of his crewmen take care of business, getting as much gold for the loot as possible. But Hoseok fiddles with your pendant in hand and heads to a jeweler. Said jeweler is an old man who quivers upon seeing him, Namjoon and Seokjin in his shop. He hides behind his table and cries, “Please! Spare me! Take what you must!”

Hoseok sighs. He doesn’t know why everyone thinks so badly of him. Maybe because he’s a pirate and he and his crew have pillaged countless. That’s fair, he supposes.

“Stop yer quivering,” Seokjin spews out, leaning against his table. “We need you to look at somethin’. Hurry before I steal your silver!”

Hoseok lifts your golden locket, letting it dangle from his hand. 

The old man eventually slinks out when he realizes they won’t do anything, and he takes out his magnifying glass. He motions for him to bring it forward and Hoseok does. The old man hums, studying the locket before flipping it over in his hand. His thumb brushes against the wild rose engraving.

“Where did you get this from?” he asks.

“Don’t matter,” Namjoon says curtly. 

Hoseok studies the man’s face and leans closer. “What is it?”

“It is a very valuable locket. I happen to recognize this symbol as well. It is the emblem of the Crochetta Kingdom.” He pops the locket open to the portrait of the young woman and looks up at Hoseok, clearing his throat. “I believe this locket belongs to the youngest princess of that kingdom. The runaway.”

Hoseok’s brow cocks.

The three of them leave in a hurry. 

Seokjin’s eyes are glazed as his mouth starts to spew how Lady Luck is truly on their side, how they’ll be able to get their hands on a high ransom or sell you for countless riches. Namjoon is perplexed at how a princess like you managed to get here when Crochetta was countries away.

But Hoseok remains quiet. He doesn’t plan to trade you. He doesn’t ask questions.

He is entirely and wholly intrigued. Like never before.

“Blimey, the ship!” There’s a shout at the docks and Hoseok is torn from his thoughts. Taehyung has his hands in the air, cursing aloud. And Hoseok’s eyes trail from him to his ship that’s off the dock and disappearing over the horizon. “It’s sailing away!”

Seokjin is aghast. “How?!”

“Who’s still on?!” Hoseok shouts, looking around the dock to all his shocked men and their mouths drawn open big enough to catch flies.

“That girl,” Namjoon says, looking at the captain.

Hoseok tied you tightly, he made sure of it. Unless you freed yourself again. But it’s not possible that you lifted the anchor. 

No. You must’ve cut the rope.

“Where’s Jungkook?”

At the same time, there’s a high-pitched shriek in the distance. All of the men are held to their spots on the docks as they watch a tiny figure in the horizon get pushed off the ship’s deck and then plopped into the waters. 

There’s a loud splash.

You stole the ship.

Hoseok is quiet when his men turn to him. They don’t dare utter a single word, far too afraid their captain is boiling with anger. But what frightens them far more is when Hoseok suddenly bursts out into chortling laughter.

He laughs and grins as he watches his ship sail into the distance.

You were truly a treasure hard to find. He knew it when he saw you.

And now, he’ll just have to catch you again.

[rosaetae]

spellbound to be | one

☇ “I don’t need to drink your blood to have my lips on your neck.”

[this is a part of tale of the purebloods] — prologue / one / two 

➣  pairing: jungkook x reader

➣  genre: vampire!jungkook, fanatasy!au, soulmate!au, angst

➣ word count: 12.3k

➣  rating: pg-13

➣  synopsis: jeon jungkook is the cursed pureblood to have fallen in deep love with someone who was not his Complement. having to have fallen hard, he has to compensate with a life full of heartbreak and pain— one of which a burden weighs heavily on his shoulders. so much so, he hires a witch one day to reverse his inevitable Complement tie.

Bloodshed.

That is what derives from Witch Trial Week at Ember Academy— overly exaggerating, of course. A witch-made week established decades ago, the equivalence to Hell Week in the mundane world, but something your friend, Piper likes to call "Heaven Week" for her own musings.

Ember Academy's witches spend the week hexing, jinxing, cursing each other in the light of every October 31st, Halloween. There's no real motive behind it. Before, whoever was the last witch standing would be given special treatment, but in modern day, it was used as a tactic for the professors to oversee who would be a powerful witch, for some it was a mechanism to either get revenge or to let out one's anger. For you, it was always fun.

To your misfortune, you were at the short end of the stick, being clever and witty enough to be made part of Witch Trial Week, one of the notable witches that some would target, but unlike the rest of Ember Academy, you didn't grow up with the others. They all knew each other the day you stepped into the academy, looking and talking about you as if you were anything but one of them.

And it was true, you weren't fully one of them.

Growing up, you lived in the mundane world, surrounded by people who upheld no special abilities as those in the Upper World. Surely, you were no stranger to the realm of where your mother comes from, you coming home every day from primary school to your father, a human, and your mother, a full-fledged witch who gave up her immortality and her life in the Upper World for the sake of her Complement. You'd spend the day learning simple arithmetic, and after school, you'd come home to your mother teaching you simple, harmless charms.

It was a normal life growing up for you, your upbringing never straying too far from your roots. On some nights, your father put you to bed by telling you bedtime stories, on other nights, your mother would sing a lullaby of broken latin. You were convinced for awhile that it was your mother's soothing voice, but at a certain age when she stopped singing you to sleep, she exposed that it was a siren's song she learned from a friend in her hometown.

As a child, you'd constantly ask about the Upper World, having constant dreams about another worldly realm and a recurring figure holding their hand out for you. And the minute your finger grazes theirs, you awake. Not on your bed made of sea water and a ceiling made of glass, but in your normal New York apartment that had some crooked crevices on the ceiling, on your springy mattress with beige linen sheets. Although, despite your continuous desire to visit your mother's home world, your mother and father were very against world hopping.

However, due to your father's passing when you turned 14, there was no reason as to why your mother should keep you in the mundane world any longer if you didn't want to stay, and brought you to the Upper World of where your dreams of it had come to reality.

Entering Ember Academy, you could not fathom why your mother was so strict of you convincing yourself and everyone else around you that you are a full-fledged witch. And then you learn during one of the history classes that a hybrid witch that shares two worlds forbidden from each other was subjected to execution if entered the soil of the Upper World. You never understood why such a thing as your existence had such dire consequences, but that just made you more aware of your lies to everyone in the Upper World.

Your mother raised you believing that love shouldn't be forbidden, no matter the circumstances, even if that meant two different worlds. The mundane world was like that too. Star-crossed lovers consisting of Romeo and Juliet, Jack and Rose, Joel and Clementine, your own parents— they're all the epitome of what your mother likes to gush on and on about. And in hindsight, you are the product of it.

Due to your inability to grow up with the other witches, you had almost the entire academy against you for the past few years, especially on Witch Trial Week, only for this year to completely change that.

In the mundane world, sports like kickboxing was one of your favorites, and while there was no such thing as kickboxing in the Upper World, your main characteristic was that you like to play rough. A tug a war, a game of chess— this year, you were not holding back.

"Don't be so quick to be disappointed, Piper."

Piper, one of your only purely good friends at Ember Academy, watches you grind up dried lavender buds in a hard stone mortar and pestle, making a few grinds before running an index finger along an old page of your mother's book you took without her permission. She plops down onto her seat in front of you, her dark purple hair bouncing on her shoulders as she taps on her star glitters on her face. "It's Witch Trial Week, ___. That means I have to witch-proof all of my belongings because Rina and her damn fritter friends are going to pull a last year's move."

"Oh, come on. It wasn't that bad," you state, pouring the crushed up lavender into a glass bottle that had frog mucus and torn rose petals sitting inside about one fourth of the way. Piper doesn't question what you were up to, only continuing to voice out her frustrations.

"They cursed my assignments! You know how many extra credit assignments I had to do? 200 points gone because of this bloody witch-made week!"

Smirking, you peer up at her before standing up from your seat to grab a large jar of purple dragon drool on a shelf right behind you, before sitting back down, "calm down, I have plotted the perfect revenge."

"What?" Piper raises an eyebrow, her facial expression looking concerned. "Is that dragon drool?"

Opening up the jar, Piper makes a sour face when the aroma of a putrid, green whiff draws out of the jar, you having to stifle in a cough at the stench that made no warning traveling up your sinuses. Bringing your index finger and thumb to pinch your nose, you grab the small wooden serving spoon attached to the side of it and put two heeping spoonfuls of the dragon drool into your concoction before swiftly shutting the jar and finally being able to breathe again.

Piper lets out an exhale she's been holding in, staring at you with wide eyes, waiting for an answer that you were sort of stalling as you rip up a piece of paper. "I borrowed my mother's infamous dark magic book."

She gulps at the sound of that. "Dark magic?"

"Calm down, it's not that bad," you roll your eyes at her fear of using an area of magic that you were technically not supposed to touch upon— but you couldn't help it. It's dark magic, it's bound to be used somehow. "Just going to tease around with Rina's emotions a bit. We all know she's been trying to hit on Namjoon despite her Complement is Doyeon. I'm making a simple love potion for Namjoon to fall in love with Rina— only for the week though. She'll be a bit heartbroken at the end, but hey, she stained my uniform with troll's blood last year."

Jung Rina, daughter of Ember Academy's high priestess, who also adapts an attitude problem. She likes to taunt other witches from afar because of the power she gains from being the high priestess's daughter, cursing and jinxing others and acting as if it wasn't her— she gets away with it anyways. Unsure why, even when you do mind your own business, it's as if Rina has something against you— you confirmed this when even after Witch Trial Week, she wouldn't stop jinxing you.

Last year, she took your uniform while you were showering after with a game of shuntbumps, only to wear a uniform stained with a bright yellow color leaving a horrendous, pungent smell of troll's blood. It was one of the most talked about trick for the year, everyone bringing up the fact that Ms. Jung Rina was able to get her hands on troll's blood and use you as a target. A laughing stock, the black sheep— you've endured it for long enough.

"You're using dark magic! On the high priestess's daughter! That's—"

"Risky? I could care less." You finish for her, shrugging. You write down the template for the love spell that was written in high level latin, writing it carefully letter by letter. As your quill inks the paper, you look at a sweating Piper momentarily. "Stop worrying! If anything, you're guilty by association."

Piper places her hands over eyes and sighs. "I did not see anything."

"No, you didn't," you muse along with her as you place your quill back into its holder and roll up the paper into a thin tube, tapping it into the bottle that finishes up the spell. You watch as the dragon's drool acidifies the paper, already acidifying the rose petals, ground lavender buds, and frog's mucus prior, all in all creating a lilac hue in the glass bottle. "See? It's done. Now I just need to pour this into his cup of juniper latte when we go to potions."

"Huh," Piper says aloud. "That's sneaky."

Clicking your tongue at her, you slam the dark magic book closed, quickly shoving it into your tote bag while you plug the glass bottle with a cork, gently placing it along with the magic book.

"May the games begin," you whisper audibly only for Piper to let out another sigh of disappointment, but also in anticipation.

Everything was going smoothly. Going to class was like a mission, having to make sure that you don't mindlessly enter a trap, but as you sit down in your seat, in the sight of Professor Young of where safe base was, you just had to get through this class without being suspicious. Despite all else, everything was smooth sailing. Even pouring the potion into Namjoon's juniper latte when he wasn't paying attention was easy. And you noticed that no one has caught you— yet.

In a whirl of lingering moments, the grace period, you were sat in your seat, reading your potions book when you hear an abrupt sound, you and almost everyone in the class looking up to see Namjoon, his told figure looming over the other students with eyes wide as day.

He makes one audible noise, "Rina," before dashing out of the potion room in a coarse and gawky manner, Professor Young calling after him while the rest of the class took it to their own accord to follow him, already presuming that something only Witch Trial Week can influence. Eventually, all classes grew curious of the commotion that people trickle into the crowd as they follow in a hearty distance from Namjoon's graceless gait.

You pull Piper to the side when you see Namjoon approach his and your target, standing from one of the many columns of the area to get a good look given by the angle you were given. Piper couldn't help but to let out an amused giggle when you both see the moment unfold in front of your eyes.

"Namjoon?" Rina speaks, her cheeks going red when she sees Namjoon on his knees, head down. You almost snort at how her eyes go wide when she finds her biggest crush right in front of her, thinking this was out of his own willingness— Namjoon actually being in love with Rina. "Namjoon, what are you doing?"

"I love you!"

The loud announcement rings and echoes in waves down the hallway, you and Piper already having a hard time stifling your laughter at the confession. Rina gulps before she lets out a scoff in disbelief, a smile creeping on her face as if this was a moment she was expecting. Her cockiness makes you want to gag.

"I love you with all my heart, Rina! I want to stay by your side forever!"

Whispers upon whispers dissipate into the air, one of concern, one of cheer for Rina, and one of straight amusement.

Rina raises her eyebrows, clearing her throat. "Namjoon."

"Please, keep me in your life," Namjoon states, almost like a whimper. In that moment, he peers up at Rina with huge bug eyes, as if he was really begging. The anticipation stabs at you like daggers as Rina continues to stare at him in both awe and confusion by the sudden confession. "Master."

The last word leaves his mouth almost like a mutter, and you were for sure, for a mere second, that you misheard him— everyone did, until you're finding Namjoon leap from his stance into Rina's arms, immediately peppering her with kisses on her cheeks, causing her to stumble backwards. The murmurs amongst the crowd grow, following with a few giggles as Rina is trying to push Namjoon away, trying to hold in her giggles.

"Namjoon," Rina says through fits of giggles as she brings her hands up to his chest, trying to keep some distance between them. "Namjoon, not—"

The words are taken out of her mouth when Namjoon, shamelessly and giddily swipes his entire tongue along her cheek, earning a large gasp from the crowd. It leaves not only you in shock, but as well as Rina who entirely freezes in realization of the contact that was just made. Your mouth hangs open, until you roll your lips inward, trying so very hard not to break into a fit of laughter.

"Wrong spell, you hobworm!" Piper whisper yells, slapping a hand on your arm as you let a snigger out, looking at your friend with amusement, wondering why she wasn't finding this just as funny as you did.

"Hobworm?" You gasp at her insult, your amusement unabashedly shining through.

Piper scowls at you, biting her tongue to prevent from encouraging you further into amusement. "You cast the wrong spell!"

As your smile grows, you shake your head. "No, I swear I didn't. I did everything correctly—"

"Then why on earth is Namjoon under a puppy love spell?"

Glancing your eyes at Rina, you hear whispers among the crowd who watch as she tries to push a puppy in love Namjoon away from her. He whines and whimpers each time she makes the distance greater between them.

"Who did this!" Rina exclaims, trying to push a licking Namjoon away from her. "Who in the heavens thought this was funny? I will be reporting this to my mother and every little squeamish fritter that allowed this to happen— no, Namjoon, bad dog!"

This allows you to snort, all your laughter you were containing bursting out as you couldn't hold it in anymore. However, doing so only allows Rina to make direct eye contact with you, her face twisting in volatile spite, knowing very well that you are the culprit. Widening your eyes, you began to run before your mind processed it.

"___!" Rina screeches from the tops of her lungs, everyone in front of you turning heads to find you, the witch who dared to pull a little stunt against the High Priestess's daughter.

Legs stride step by step, zooming through the halls with adrenaline pumping your veins as the wretched witch was probably right behind you, chasing you down when you hear the sounds of heels, knowing very well that's Rina's 3-inch heeled mules clacking in the distance. Professors peek their head out of their classroom in curiosity, some yelling at you to not run in the halls, however, your eye is set on the prize— the exit.

It was closed, and to save time, you swipe your hand in front of you, a spell recited in your head swinging the door wide open that it hits the walls and causes a loud slamming noise. It was the door that led out to the garden of the academy of where fresh herbs grew, and at this point of your escape plan, you were hoping to hide in the depths of the greenhouse until class ended.

You run down the steps, eyes looking down as your feet land on each step, careful not to miss one or you'd fall down to your doom. And just when you safely made it down the staircase, you are bumped into a wall of rigid flesh and muscle, your immediate reaction to apologize, except the words are taken out of your mouth when you look up and see the face on all pictures and drawings matching to the person who looked just as mesmerizing in person as he is on paper; the one and only—

"Your grace," Jungkook hears you sputter, shutting your eyes and lowering your head to hide your own embarrassment and disappointment in such a quick second. His men behind him step forward, but he raises a hand to halt them in their place. "My sincere apologies—"

"Do you have no mind?" Jungkook hears the secretary who was leading him on a tour around Ember Academy snap, her booming and high-pitched screech at the sheer shame that has been exchanged by this incident.

"I am so incredibly sorry, your grace. I am at fault—"

The king himself is not at all bothered by a simple bump by a young witch, considering that it seemed you were on the run from something. He glances down at you in subtle curiosity, your head bowed before him with your hair braided, as you stand still despite the constant nagging of the secretary scolding you for being so unaware. And something catches his eye.

His eyes focus in on the crystal of pale, fair, ivory that hangs on your neck. It twinkles in his sight with the sunlight just bouncing off of it into his cornea, right before he settles in recognition of where he recalls it. There's a swift movement moments later of where you raise your head just slight, only to lock eyes with him.

How you've grown, he thinks to himself. He remembers how your eyes were that of similar of a doe, and how you stared at him with the same wide eyes when you were little. It scares him how much time has passed and how you stand before him, more matured than before— he wasn't expecting to see you this soon.

The locked gaze lasted briefly before your eyes widen and you bring your head back down.

He manages to let out a sigh, "I suggest you pay attention where you are going in the future."

Jungkook can tell that you were surprised by his response, despite you committing the worst crime by even daring to be this close to the king. Even the secretary was a distance away from him.

"Yes, your grace."

"You may look up," he speaks. The permission makes you hesitate, but swallowing the lump in your throat, you inhale deeply and rise, and when you steadily meet his eyes, immediately, it's as if you could see his past. The pain and sorrow he has been through. It all encompasses into the hallows of his eyes.

"What is your name?" You blink at the question blankly as he awaits your answer, arching an eyebrow when you stay mute. "Well?"

"___," you answer. "My name is ___, your grace."

There's this glint in Jungkook's eye that even he is aware that you notice. It occurs to him that he has not once asked your name before, but somehow he finds it this moment valuable to gain that piece of you. Meanwhile, you hope he does not find any significance to your name, that this incident isn't one to be held against one day.

It's then, he smirks, giving a single nod, etching your name into his brain for he knows he will not forget it. 

"Your name will be in my memory, ___," he speaks ominously. Your heart drops in return. "You are dismissed."

six years later.

"Welcome."

The books weighed heavy in your arms, but you ignored the fact that it was nearly slipping out of your grasp as you gripped on the jar of dried magnolia leaves in the other hand, making your way to the small work table just right out into the shop of where you greet the presence inside the shop. Taking one last step to your marked destination, you let out a sigh of relief, your shoulders relaxing as you plop all of the buttery books onto the work table, still keeping the jar of magnolia leaves in your grasp.

"Is Circe here?"

At first, the voice processes in your mind, realizing that you were so engrossed on completing a minor trip without making a fool of yourself and dropping all your books at once that you forget for a mere moment that someone was in the shop. And what makes your whole body freeze like the ice age of modern day was the name you haven't heard in so long— only when your father would let it tumble out of his mouth and him being the last one to ever speak of the name.

The aura shifted within the shop. Not daring to turn around and meet eye to eye with the person who knows your mother's real identity, you keep your back turned away, placing the jar gently onto the table right next to your books, a pinky setting down first before gently setting down the bottom of the jar to relieve the loud sound it would have made.

"Who's asking?"

There's a moment of hesitation, one that you can only take in as sly and mischievous. Silently, you maintain a mantra in your head, one that recites a spell to freeze one's muscles entirely, the silence teeter totter between having to put the spell to use or not. The sound of a step is heard— one that sounds too close for your liking that in a whirlwind, you swiftly twirl around and let the mantra come to life in an instant, "carpe musculus."

And with wide eyes, you realize your mistake immediately when eyes lock with the ones that belong to the sheer ruler of the property you stand on— the king. It wasn't hard to forget them, since the last time you two had a rather unpleasant encounter. His eyebrow quirks up at your spell you casted upon him, his body completely frozen over as he was in the midst of grabbing one of the crystal necklaces hung on display at the register, an arm outstretched, but posture and dignified stature remained.

"An old acquaintance."

"Verto," you mutter, blinking with the same wide eyes as you see him gain control over his muscles again, his hand retracting and meeting his other hand from the behind, his throat clearing at the situation that he assumed— correctly— that you were fearful of. Bringing your head down instinctively, you open your mouth with eyes shut. "Your grace, I apologize—"

"Apology accepted," he cuts you off, making you peer up at his form from the curtains of your draping hair. Slowly, you rise your head, keeping your chin up to match his formal, dignified persona. "I am merely here to see your mother."

Scoffing lightly, you let your lips curl upward, turning around to grab at the jar of dried magnolia leaves from the table. "You must be an old acquaintance to call my mother by her real name," you take note aloud, wandering and maneuvering around the vast shop to the corner near the front of where the jars of special ingredients sit in the cupboards.

"Is Circe not what she goes by?"

You shake your head, opening the jar with one of the keys wrapped around your neck, twisting and turning before the cupboard unraveled a collection started by your mother. "Cora," you correct him. "She went by Cora."

"Very well then. Is Cora present?"

You blink at the question, mindlessly nudging the other jars to make room for your new ingredient you've obtained from the village due to a friendly seller who saved the leaves just for you.

"You just missed her," you announce, placing the jar snugly just between the phoenix feathers and pickled frog tongues. "By three years. She passed away."

"She passed?" The king speaks his question in subtle shock, evidently oblivious to your mother's passing, one that makes you question what connection he had to your mother as you turn around to meet his wide eyes. Politely, he realizes the atmosphere that was created and clears his throat. "I'm sorry for your loss."

"I'm sorry for yours," you try to keep the the spirits high, a teasing smile on your lips. "It seems like whatever reason you came here for was pretty important if the king is in need of my mother's services. And in replacement of my mother's absence, how may I assist you?"

In comparison to the young witch that was so invigorated with competition that you grew blind to your own surroundings, you were not like her to easily cower in front of intimidating figures— including the king— anymore. If she saw you now, she'd probably wonder why you are so nonchalant speaking to the king as you are in the moment, but there is one thing you noticed that allowed you to act the way that you are now.

He came into the shop looking for your mother, seeking for her services. Though he has the power to put you into exile or to chop your head off or to even rip your heart out of your chest, it means nothing when he is obviously wanting a favor.

Jungkook's eyes narrow slightly before he scoffs lightly. "Not quite sure if you can help me."

"I'm not that sure either," you muse. "But I am the next option to my mother's assistance. Or if you have no interest of my assistance, then I believe this shop is not meant for you, your grace."

It wasn't hard to notice that he was having an internal battle the minute you turned the other cheek to resume what you were doing. Shutting the cabinet and locking it, you wander to the back of the room of where the work table was, taking the top book of the stack and dusting it with one of your mini feather dusters.

"What do you know about Complements?"

Freezing your wrist, you take a second to process the question set in the air, your eyebrows furrowing. Setting the duster and the ancient novel down, you twirl around once more to meet the eyes of the distant king, each second becoming more comfortable under his gaze that seemingly brought temptation and fear amongst others.

"Depends. I'm not very interested in the topic enough to know the ins and outs of it. However, I do know how to expose a Compliment tie—"

"What about erasing a Complement tie?"

An eyebrow shoots up on your face, his questions becoming more questionable from your mere curious uprising, but as you let his inquiry sit in your mind, you shrug. "Never been done."

His grace scoffs, allowing the pad of his thumb swipe under his nose before returning to hold his hand from his behind. "That's what your mother said."

"And I'm afraid, to this day, her word remains true," retorting to his attitude, you fold your arms over your chest. "However, I can unknot a Complement tie if needed."

"Your mother has already done that."

"Of course she has," you roll your eyes, realizing that the more you talk to the king of Frawen, the more you realize that you were talking to a wall. "How about this? I will do some digging about it in her archives. She has mentioned before that terminating a Compliment tie is hard. However, I do believe it's not impossible." He stares at you attentively before you placate his energy with a smile, a little light of hope intended. "I will come by your castle once I've retrieved a decent amount of information."

He stays silent, a steady gaze on your eyes that slowly made you more uncomfortable with each passing second, but thank the dark lords that someone enters your shop, the door making a very loud entrance that ruined the staring contest between you two, your eyes averting to the customer who entered the premises.

"Welcome," you announce, strolling from the work table up to the front to sit right behind the register, flickering your eyes towards the king when seeing that he hasn't moved from his spot. "Until then, King Jungkook, I have a customer to attend to."

The customer that saved the awkward tension takes a step into the shop, but with a single glance headed their way from the king, the customer drops their head and mutters an, "I'll wait outside" and flees back into the Upper World sun, the door shutting again. Lips parting, you gape at Jungkook who looks back at you, ignoring that his own presence had made one of your customers scurry off in intimidation.

"When will I hear from you again?"

Scoffing at him, you shake your head at his evident advantage and inhale deeply. "I'll start doing some research tonight, your grace. Expect me in front of your castle in two days. And if you could kindly so, can you tell my customer they may come in on your way out?"

He lets his gaze linger on yours for a second before silently nodding on his way out, his presence exchanged for the customer's. The customer glances at you awkwardly as you count write something on a piece of paper with your quill, as if confused that you were not trembling after just speaking with the king, but going back to your normal day as if the king had never arrived.

"Why, King Jungkook came to visit. Quite sooner than I expected," the amused tone that drips from Circe's tongue when she notices the arrival of none other than the King of Frawen just two weeks after he had gone up and left her abode after the reveal of his dreaded Complement tie.

"Came to greet a happy birthday to her?" The witch doesn't meet his brooding gaze, but gathers bouquets of flowers in her hold.

"No," he flatly states. "I still have a favor to ask of you."

"Ah," Circe nods, balancing the bouquet carefully before tossing her aging hair over her shoulder. "The one about your Complement? You left so quick the last time we spoke."

Jungkook clenches his jaw, an attempt to not forget that his own fear and apprehension after making the forsaken revelation that he had met his Complement so soon; a child— a hybrid, a product against the Upper World law— is his Complement. Curse himself for being so easily affected.

And while the two have known each other for awhile, Circe wastes no time to remind him of inevitable fate, despite her own idea of the past he carries. It weighs on him heavily that even Circe cannot recognize the aura of whom she once knew of.

"Yes," he inhales sharply. "I need you to erase it."

Circe bellows a light chuckle, one that makes his eyebrows raise at the response. "Are you insinuating I kill my daughter?"

Jungkook knows that the witch likes to dig in places to prevent the other party from kicking around the bush. She hates fluff and she hates time being wasted. Only now, giving up her eternal life only makes her that much crabbier about it.

"Do you believe that I'd be daft enough to try to imply such a thing?" He shakes his head, a slight smirk growing on his face. "Murder doesn't sit very well on my shoulders, Circe. You must at least know that much of me."

"Do I? It's been too long."

Jungkook smiles at the grinning witch, "I am insinuating you sever our Complement tie."

The witch in decorative forest green and black, stares at the king who wears a sack-colored cloak that did not do justice hiding his black, feathered doublet that resembled such royalty and wealth. Even with the hood on, it is no mistaking that the man with raven hair and pale, glimmering skin, is the king. She laughs, her finger tapping against the paper wrapped around the bouquet of plum-hued calla lilies. "I'm afraid I can only live up to your favor in part."

"The most powerful witch I know cannot cut a Complement tie?"

She is no stranger to his challenges, but because she has no need to maintain the name of being the infamous witch who wields such immense power no longer (as she knows that name will be given to someone much worthy), she merely shrugs, a smile on her face. "Not even I know how to cut a Complement tie, dearest Jungkook."

"Your lack of knowledge of erasing something as mere as a Complement tie is disconcerting, Circe."

The witch hums in response, before whispering something of broken latin, and with a waver of a her fingers, a string of deep scarlet attaches against Jungkook's chest, one that floats in the air and trails in a ragged line right over Circe's shoulder and through the wooden door of her home as if he were tied to something— to someone.

The unveiling of the string causes Jungkook's breath to be caught in his throat, a pinch of nothing like before right against his chest of where the string is attached to.

"I see that, despite your best efforts, you could not stray away from her. And you want to know why?" Circe turns over her shoulder, before pointing at the single evident knot made along the string. "This knot was formed when she touched you and so long as it is there, you will live in constant yearning to see her and to be with her. Tell me, how many times have you had to prevent yourself from coming here until it became too unbearable?"

"Can you reverse it? Untie the knot?" His breath is tattered, uneven. It's as if the exposure of the string wrapped every inch of his heart and silently, the king of Frawen fears that his heart might be taken out of his chest.

"I can," she nods, an expression of indifference on her face. "But doing so does not change the fact that you are each other's Complements. It means that you will no longer feel the constant and desperate need to see her."

"Then I beg of you to do it—"

"However, the bond is strong, Jungkook," her gold eyes stare back at him before they soften, as Jungkook's mental mantras to fight off the peculiar pain deriving from the scarlet string has become a door to all of the pains he has experienced in the past. "I fear that the more you leave it in the dark, the more it will create more conflicts in the future."

"Having this complement now is already creating conflicts for me, Circe."

"Jungkook, if you two were to see each other again by the universe's happenings, must you know that the knot cannot be made again by simple touches. It has to be tied by the hand of a witch."

"If it's not any burden to you," he breathes in sharply. "I'd like you to unknot our Complement tie."

Circe makes a face of indifference before sighing. "Very well," she states just before she mumbles another string of latin and snaps, and lo and behold, the knot unravels by itself. The scarlet rope looked like it had no indentation of where the knot once was.

Jungkook lets out an aching sigh, as if he was under water for too long. Circe makes one more movement of her hand before the red string dissipates into the air, no longer exposed to the eye.

"There," she says. "Now leave, before she sees you again."

Circe doesn't give Jungkook a look of goodbye as she hurries inside her house. She feels the presence of Jungkook leave, exhaling in relief as she peers down at her daughter who gleams up at her, her hair in two buns on either side of her head. Her daughter lets out a squeal of "mommy!" before dropping a sage bundle in her hand to run up and hug Circe's leg.

"Happy birthday, my dear. Six years old already?" The witch pats her daughter's head as she giggles against her. "Go on into the kitchen. I'll be there in a moment."

And as she turns around to trot inside the kitchen, Circe takes notice of her neck that has been exposed due to her hairstyle that she wanted to wear this morning. The etching of her Complement mark that once inked her skin of a rose, had become a blank canvas.

As if the mark was never there to begin with.

You haul across the other wing of the castle that stretches from the main entrance of where the gigantic black, grandiose door stares at you mockingly for not having the privilege to be invited by the king himself as well as enter the main entrance to unravel the glory of what stood for centuries.

Servants of the fairest skin and darkest of hairs escort you to the a room you are unsure of, but you don't question them when they open the doors for you of the building. This was as close you were ever getting to the castle.

"Your grace," you announce your arrival before you could realize that another man stands there from the side of your kingdom's king. Freezing in place with books tensing against your chest, your lips part. "King Jimin—!"

"Hello— oh, please. I don't like the bowing," his voice is light, a striking contrast from Jungkook's ominous tone. You lift your head that was on the way down of honorability, eyes staying wide at his unexpected presence. "Trust me, I'm not a big formalities type of person like my brother."

"What is it? Did you find anything?" The king ruins the moment by his barking, an impatience growing in his chest.

You open your mouth, and close it. "Yes, and no."

"Proceed."

Walking over to the table, Jimin smirks when he hears the loud plop that comes from your stacks of ancient books slapping on the table, dust sprinkles in the air by such impact as you wave it dismissively out of your face to spread out the books evenly.

"These are just merely collections my mother had of Complement ties laying out and about," you begin, grabbing hold of the green and gold accented leather bind novel of browning pages. "They all talk about the history of it, the perspectives of it, and some old spells that used to be done moderately back then, but have been taken out of a witch's curriculum in school. Oh, like this one goes on and on about the importance of it and why finding out who your Complement is before you meet them is deemed as bad luck. Like seeing the bride before the wedding, which actually originated from arranged marriages when— sorry, tangent. If I can just find the book..." As your voice trails, your eyes furrow in concentration to find the book amongst the pile you brought that would deem as very important.

Finally, you hold it up to and pat it, Jungkook raising an eyebrow and Jimin looking bemused at your inner workings being elicited through your rambles and tangents.

"This is where I stumbled upon something fruitful," you began. "It's a book that's anti-Complement. The author was actually a witch who thought his Complement was, and I quote, "vile and tremendously horrendous", so he composed this book that explains how to unknot the Complement tie."

"Nothing about cutting it?"

You smile as you open the book. "There's a whole chapter about it, but," as you flip open to it, the book in your hands bursts into bright blue flames illuminating your skin with a blue tint before it calms down, living proof that the book itself was cursed, either by the author or your mother's doing. "The book has been cursed and the most vital information you want means you're not the only one who is searching for a severance."

"Couldn't you just... cut it?" King Jimin chimes in and you shake your head.

"No, this witch said that cutting it would damage the blade and not the tie," you close the book to prevent the fire from getting anywhere. "The tie itself, when exposed, is simply a scarlet rope. Its material is very ethereal and even your finest sword cannot cut it in two."

"Brilliant," Jungkook says, defeatedly. He sucks in a deep breath before looking at you, eyes flickering up and down your form. "When will I hear from you again?"

Making a loud sound as you stack the books on top of each other, you look up at him and raise an eyebrow. "Again? You're expecting me to continue the search for an answer that I can't give you? This is all the information that I can gather from my mother's archive. I don't know what else you expect me to do."

"What the daughter of the most powerful witch of this kingdom can do, of course," he retorts, easily. It makes you scoff.

"I apologize, your grace, but I am not going through those extra lengths."

"For someone who adheres to formalities very often, you don't seem to be very intimidated by me. At least not enough to do what I say."

"Is your job as a king to be intimidating?"

It was that type of riposte that would have your head, an immediate escort to your death for even thinking that a cocky retort would come out of your mouth. If only if Jimin hadn't let out an amused snort, punishment would not have immediately be put off the table, but the irritation forming in the king's blood remains. He doesn't turn to his brother to hush him, but rather keeps a heavy stare at you, narrowed eyes into slits as a heavy warning— yet you stay grounded, raising an eyebrow at him.

"And you don't seem to know when to not speak your mind."

"With all due respect, King Jungkook, may I remind you I am here because you requested my services. I've given you what I can provide, free of charge. My mother has probably dealt with a customer who has wanted the same thing, and if the book was cursed, it's a heavy sign that it's not a wise path to follow."

King Jungkook inhales deeply, eyes staring at the hybrid who fears nothing under his gaze. He mentally curses to himself knowing very well that Circe was the most probable culprit of cursing her own books, for the sole reason of not wanting him to get his hands on vital information that would separate a Complement tie attached to her own daughter. Sighing, he makes a dismissive nod towards you, a finger tapping on his arm chair repeatedly. "Very well. Dismissed."

And without a word, you gather your things and leave, the same men escorting you away from the castle and the inconsiderate king.

Once your presence no longer lingered, Jungkook sinks down into his chair, letting his head fall against the fist of his arm that propped it up. Jimin clicks his tongue beside him.

"Now tell that was not who I thought that was," Jimin sings once the door had fully shut closed and it was just Jungkook and his brother of the neighboring kingdom.

"Your instincts are spot on, brother," Jungkook says with heavy sarcasm, shaking his head.

Jimin heartily laughs. "It doesn't take a Merlin to see that she's your Complement. It's quite obvious."

"Care to go more in depth?"

"Other than the fact that she's the only outsider you granted a visit at your castle, you're not so quick to throw her out either," he begins before tapping his finger on the table. "You also don't like looking her in the eye. You get tense when you do. Either you fear her or you fear getting close to her."

Jungkook raises an eyebrow in surprise at his brother's quick observation— it must be all the times he's observing human behavior in the mortal world.

"She's mentioned that her books derive from her mother's archives— is her mother...?"

"Her mother was the one that undid our Complement knot."

"Her mother was the infamous Circe, then?" Jimin marvels with his signature taunting smirk on his face. "Well, I'll be damned."

"You already are," Jungkook rolls his eyes.

"Your Complement is a hybrid— and not just a hybrid, Circe's daughter?" Jungkook didn't like that his own brother kept reminding him of who his Complement was, thus encouraging the fire of searching for a severance. "Despite the fact that she holds tremendous power, she seems very promising. You're not fond of her?"

"Jimin, you know—"

"Right, pardon me. You don't want her," Jimin inhales deeply, nodding.

"Jimin," Jungkook begins once again. "I can't have her as my Complement. I need her to find a spell to wither our tie."

"Is there another reason why you need to find such spell other than you're dreading that she's bound to you?"

"So that she could find real love and romance. She will not find it with me."

There was an unreadable look in Jimin's face that even his own brother could not decipher. It lingers for a moment before he makes the executive decision to stand up from the seat, knocking on the table with his pale knuckles. "I'm heading back to Merosa. May I make the suggestion that you take her to Sagewood?"

"Sagewood? Why in the heavens would I take her there?"

"If you want to cut the tie so badly, then I think it wouldn't be a very shabby place to start, no? After all, she only has access to such limited information— you're not being much help either. Besides, you both will most likely find something valuable there."

It was pruning day.

The plants you planted outside your windowsill in its respected pots looked green as ever, with some minor flaws sticking out. You walk outside with shears in hand, identifying the buds you'd snip off with love. You enjoy taking care of your plants, the only common denominator between this world and the mundane world that gave you a sense of normality.

Humming an old folk tune from the mundane world, you admire your plants, recalling that some of these plants were the ones your mother would plant back in the mundane world. As you snip off one of your greenery, you hear the faint sounds of neighs from afar, halting in front of your shop and creating audible commotion behind your back. You overhear your neighbors rush out of their respected buildings, having you grow curious by the second.

Raising an eyebrow, you turn around to find nothing but the king hopping off his trusty steed of ebony glory with a luscious mane, planting his feet flat onto the ground with ease while two other men follow his lead, staying a hearty distance from him. He meets your eyes immediately, ignoring that everyone around him are caught in a trance by his sudden appearance in the town.

"King Jungkook," you marvel with a smirk, ignoring the fact that your neighbors were staring in mixed awe and fear. "What a lovely surprise."

He approaches you, stepping onto the gravel, expressionless. "I request your stay at my castle."

The words don't process fast enough in your mind, a blank expression being your response, but even then, you couldn't help but to laugh, but it came out more like a baffled scoff. "I beg your pardon?"

"To make use of the castle's library," he fills in, a smirk painting his face. "We, too, have an archive for all things your curious, knowledgable mind may want to see. Thousands of collections over the centuries, compilations from notable figures. I'm giving you access to that information in search of the severance."

You gape at him, lowering your shears. The king takes this action with positivity as his smirk only grows for a second before he's back to his emotionless expression.

"I will have my men come by to escort you to the castle tomorrow morning at nine-hundred. Pack your things," he says with no confirmation from you. His passive command makes you blink while you watch him turn his shoulder.

Amidst his turn to head back to his source of transportation and the other men who stand in front of your property, you stop him, "really? And when have I agreed?"

His body comes to a full stop just a hearty amount of distance from you. "And you wouldn't?" He calmly states aloud. In a moment, he's turning his body back to completely face you, cocking his head slight. "Tell me, you're not at all curious about how to cut a Complement tie?"

"Why would I? I have no intention of doing so."

"So you'd want to stay bound to one person your whole life? When you meet your Complement, you want to be so attached to the point that being even just miles away from them tears you apart? Every second you do not see them is as if your heart is being shredded apart in layers. Finding out who your Complement is only ruins you in a way that is a hell disguised as a heaven," he says as if it were straight spitfire. There was remorse and dread in his voice that even you cannot decipher completely— as if the pain that courses through his vein is truly authentic.

"In the mundane world, it's different, no? Humans fall in love with who they want, when they want. Did you ever compare that to the Upper World where it is frowned upon to not be with your Complement?"

"They differ, yes," you say through gritted teeth.

"Are you not so curious as to how to sever the tie? To at least be one of the first witches in centuries to hold great knowledge of a severance? That maybe you would one day change your intentions to cut your tie?"

You stay silent, placing your shears down as you stare at him attentively. Sure, you were curious, but your curiosity grew more prevalent seeing how the king was doing so much as to using a rhetoric tactic to ease your answer into a yes. And oddly enough, it was working.

"Besides... free stay, breakfast— in the castle? Surrounded by all things good and gold?"

Letting out a scoff, you narrow your eyes at him. "Is that your way of paying me for my services? A bed and breakfast at the castle? A week to pretend I'm royalty?" Challenge dripped from your tone evidently, but while the others around you and nearly the whole kingdom all feared the king's presence, you didn't share the same feeling. After all, this was the king asking for your services.

And suddenly, his expression changes, one of seriousness turned into dry amusement as he lets out a deep laugh bellowing from his stomach. "No, I'm offended that you may think I'm that cheap," he states as you raise an eyebrow, stabbing your shears, sharp point down into the window sill just right behind your plants. "I may have taken advantage of your services before, forgetting my place as a client to you. For that, I apologize sincerely. I am offering pounds of gold to you in exchange that you continue your search to cut a tie."

"Pounds of gold?"

"I notice that you live in your shop," he speaks of apparentness, making your cheeks go red as he turns his gaze to look at the shop behind you, a place you vaguely remember growing up in. "After your mother died, you decided to turn your home into a shop? Selling your services?" In that moment, you freeze only slight, caught off guard by how easily he put two and two together, you merely forgetting that he was an "acquaintance" with your mother— of course, he knew of this property before you probably were born.

"If the pounds of gold are not enough, I would be glad to make your stay at the castle permanent after you've found the severance."

You raise your eyebrows at his offer, never missing the way his lips quirked upwards for a ghostly second when he sees he's appealing you in the right direction.

"A permanent stay at your castle? As what? Your mistress? A maid?"

He chuckles and shakes his head. "Of course not. Your mother would find a way to resurrect herself to rid of my existence if she found out that I made you, her daughter, a mistress. Let alone a maid."

"You will be staying at my castle free of charge. And while I know this shop has been dear to your mother— dear to you, I am also willing to put a new location in the center of Sapphire Hill for your services on the table. Closer to the castle and in the heart of Frawen. That is, only if you have a mind to accept my proposal."

Inhaling sharply, you both stare at each other in silence as your mind juggles and he patiently awaits your answer, his body still as a stone, probably cold as one too. There was no other ulterior option to choose from— after all, why would you decline such a proposal? You were just as curious about the severance as he was, wondering why your mother never wanted to stray close to that path and why she has never mentioned about it before. And perhaps, you too could also cut your tie before you ever get to find your Complement if you ever came down to it.

However, despite his generous offers for a mere severance, there was a deep feeling in your stomach that didn't sit very well with you, one that was silently yearning you to not accept. It felt alarmingly unnatural. Just as unnatural as interacting with the king up close three times in a month.

"Alright," you sigh, defeatedly, grabbing your shears from the wood and returning to pruning day. "You've appealed to me."

"Wonderful," he acknowledges, a single celebratory nod coming your way before he turns around to head back on his steed. "I will have people to escort you tomorrow. Nine-hundred."  

"Quite a castle," you announce, eyes boggling at the interior design of the castle you never thought you'd see in person. Hell, you didn't think you'd ever get to see it closer than it being on top of the hill until just previously.

The halls were a fair color accented with alluring gold, intricate designs resembling a brush stroke, as if the gold were painted free-handedly, yet a symmetry being maintained. Crimson rugs, drapes, furniture dabble the expense of the hallway itself, and ebony statues and sculptures stare back at you broodingly. Two broad statues of fairies introduce you on either side of the entrance, facing each other with conch shells held to their mouths.

Selene purrs in your arms, probably just as dazzled at the structure as you are. "I know, baby, I know," you mutter under your breath as your pace slows along the red carpet.

"___." The voice announcing your name echoes throughout the vast hallway, pulling you out of your thoughts and daydreams as you peer towards the grandiose staircase ahead, finding a familiar figure in red with accenting white tassels walk down the steps, slowly and gracefully.

Selene suddenly paws out of your grasp to be let go of, you lowering her down to the floor carefully as you know that she likes to roam around new and foreign areas by herself.

"Your grace," you acknowledge, pacing towards him to meet him in the middle, eyes watching Selene trot along the scarlet carpet just in front of you, only to realize that she made her independent way to the king. You arch an eyebrow when Jungkook stops his footing altogether, both of you noticing Selene taking a liking into him, purring against his leg and her tail curling around his calf, making elegant circles around him in adoration. "I see Selene likes you."

Jungkook coughs before removing his eyes from the feline to meet yours. "You have a cat."

"I do," you nod. "Is she not allowed in the castle?"

"I'll make the exception," Jungkook swallows as Selene rubs her cheek against his leg. You mentally thank Selene for kissing his arse, knowing that Jungkook might have gone soft for your feline friend immediately and discarded the direct thought of kicking her out.

"I was given her a couple years back."

"Were you?"

You hum in response. "Given to me as a gift for my birthday. I named her after selenite, one of my favorite crystals."

"As long as she doesn't get into anyone's way, your feline company is welcome. However, if she were to be causing mischief, do not be blowed if she is in your soup," the king warns as he turns around, a hand motioning you to trail behind him, but the whole situation nearly made you snort out loud. Was that humour in his voice?

Following him, you scoop Selene with a hand as you caught up to her, cutting her curiosity trip short as you did not want to have her disappear and find her as your dinner, despite King Jungkook's warning sounding slightly sarcastic. His foot steps climbing up the stairs echo, his boots emphasizing his steps as you follow a few steps behind him, your flats being light-sounded from underneath you.

The Upper World resembled a victorian age from the mundane world. As much as you missed your tennis shoes and trousers, the Upper World called for bell-shaped dresses, the air-sucking corsets, and uncomfortable shoes that hurt your back if standing for too long.

As King Jungkook walks down the spacious hall with such glorious designs, you notice that there were two beautiful women in gray high neck dresses, eggshell aprons wrapped around their waist standing on the side with head lowered. Despite their dull attire, their appearance is what caught your eye.

The one on the right had skin of the bluest topaz with complementing navy hair tied up into a sleek bun. If she had looked up earlier, you would admire her sunshine eyes that made her look so kind. The on the left had contrasting mauve skin and emerald hair flowing down her shoulders. She wore a headband to keep her hair out of her face.

Nymphs.

"Cricket, Calla," the king's voice ruined the solace of the hallway, the snap of both ethereal beings' heads making direct eye contact with King Jungkook, you catching the hazel eyes of the mauve skinned beauty for a split second before she keeps steady eye contact with the person she serves.

"They will be serving you throughout your stay," he states towards you, a nod cueing the two nymphs accordingly.

"Good morning, ___. I am Calla," the topaz nymph speaks first, bowing her head as you respectfully did the same.

"And I, Cricket," her partner speaks, bowing as well.

"It is lovely to meet you both, Calla and Cricket," you speak with a kind tone as they give the smallest of shy smiles.

"Aster and Fickle are unloading the carriages. They will be up to bring her belongings in any minute. You may start unpacking—"

"Oh no, that's not necessary," you intervene. The king sends you a glare for interrupting him, but daringly, you roll your eyes at him. "Cricket, Calla, just have Aster and Fickle leave my luggages on my bed. I didn't pack heavy, so it's alright. I'd prefer if I unpack myself."

"As you wish," Cricket and Calla say in unison before King Jungkook gives one last asserting, yet hesitating nod, turning his shoulder to continue walking down the hall.

"Come. I will show you the library," he orders, having you share one last look at the beautiful nymphs who both smile at you. In that moment, you give them a smile that you hoped would make them feel safe— as if you all have been friends before. As you tear your eyes away, you trot up to the king's pace, Selene being safe in your arms as you mentally curse the king for having long legs.

Walking for nearly a minute or two, you didn't realize he had stopped in front of large double doors, black wood engraved with the exact designs you recall in the main entrance, intriguing you with every bit. You blink for a nanosecond until you hear the door unlock and open, having to blink once more when you see that the king was only a few feet away from the immense opening, arms held behind his back as the door widened.

"Did you do that?" You question aloud. It sounded very mundane of you— as if you had not seen anything weirder in the Upper World.

"Yes," he speaks, raising an eyebrow at you as you wait for the doors to open fully. "I am a Pureblood, aren't I?"

His reminder made you realize that you did indeed forget that Purebloods hold some sort of power. It was only the three kings who held such powers, being why they were named the most powerful trio over centuries to live. Unsure why, you didn't take the King of Frawen to hold telekinesis, if anything.

The doors finally stop opening, two grand doors coming to a halt on either side of the opening and creating an entrance to a room that already has your mouth hung open.

"This is the library," he speaks, taking a step in first. "All of Frawen's greatest works over the centuries are all kept in here."

It was not the immense room that was its own castle itself, but it was the giant collections, endless spines of literature and word composition that was tempting you to swallow all of the knowledge up from them.

"These are the collections of Edgar Allen Poe," you observe, remembering that you had to read one of his famous works in your mundane junior high, the eerie components of his pieces standing out to you enough that you recall his name. "The Upper World holds mortal works?"

"Just the finer ones. Homer, Machiavelli, the Brontë sisters, Cordelia Maine—"

You widen your eyes. "No way. Cordelia Maine? You have her works, too?"

"Of course," he laughs at your never-ending bafflement. "She might be famous to you mortals, but her roots don't stray away from Frawen."

"Mortals," you repeat, catching his word that he knowingly categorizes you. It makes you blink up at him, more concerned why you weren't feeling as uneasy as you should that the king who stands in front of you and has brought you inside his castle knows you're the product against the Upper World law. "Dare I ask how you know this?"

The king smirks at you, probably bemused at how you weren't exactly trembling in your boots, but you probably have a spell prepared at the tip of your tongue. "Do you forget that I can smell your blood? You reek of mortals."

Arching an eyebrow at him, you narrow your eyes just slight. "Should I be worried?"

He smirks. "That I hold such knowledge? No, or else I would have no way to find a severance now, would I?" His rhetorical question is followed with a quirk of his eyebrow, a bemused smile illuminated from the indirect sun from the window. "Besides, your mother and I were acquaintances. I am well aware of your father and while I have never met him, I do know that your mother loved him, even if they were worlds apart."

Not saying another word, you smile. One that lingers on your face for a bit, one that is shared between you and the king, one that is as if you two have created some sort of connection by this secret he finds indifference to.

However, you do not let the smile linger for too long, for you cannot trust anyone so easily, no matter if your heart is oddly beating out of your chest and there is an odd stir in your stomach when his eyes remain on your form for a moment as if he is trying to study you and your every feature.

You disregard it though, as if a chip on your shoulder, or a hair in your face when he leads you back to your room from the grand library, claiming he has work to finish.

Later that afternoon, you were in the midst of unpacking your luggages when Calla and Cricket make an appearance into your room. They were there to escort you to lunch, but you told them to give you a few minutes to organize your things, encouraging them to wait in your room as you did so.

"Are you his betrothed?"

The sudden question makes you stumble, nearly dropping the books in your hand that you deemed most viable to bring to this trip. "Sorry?" You laugh, looking at them with a sheepish smile. A harmless question, but a stretch to inquire.

"Isn't that why he's having you stay here at the castle?" Cricket asks, keeping her hands intertwined in front of her as they both watch you organize your knick-knacks of books and crystals and Selene's toys.

"Oh to the heavens, no," you laugh, Cricket furrowing her eyebrows and cocking her head to the side, wondering why your peculiar stay at the castle isn't for that singular motive. "I'm here for an entirely different reason."

Calla blinks blankly, her long, blue lashes making it obvious. "Our king doesn't usually like to keep guests overnight— let alone indefinitely."

Placing your books onto the antique dresser, you raise an eyebrow at them. "Is that right?"

"We thought, perhaps, this was his attempt in courting you," Cricket says, rather timidly. "After all, you're very beautiful."

The compliment brings red to your cheeks. "You're just saying that—"

"But, 'tis true," Calla nods. "We're nymphs—"

"We can't lie—"

"We thought that he may have found love again—"

"We would be surprised if he didn't find you, at the very least, beautiful—"

"Our king doesn't open a room for just anyone, since he's very..."

"Closed off."

They jump off their sentences swiftly, as if a ball ricocheted against the walls in great speed and force. It intrigues you as you furrow your eyebrows, more interested in the last part they had to say. "Closed off? Why is that?"

Cricket and Calla look at each other before bringing their head down. "Have you not heard of his past?" You shake your head before Calla sighs and begins again. "Our king is the most kind, most fair— but it does not redirect the light away from his past—"

"Lost the people most close to him. Lost his mind along the way, and perhaps, most tragically, lost his soul. It began with Dawn and then his best friend who happened to be his general, and then his parents, and so on. They are frightened of him."

You furrow your eyebrows. "Who's they?"

"All of Frawen. Even those in the mundane world have heard of his story," Cricket answers.

"Frawen respects our king, if anything. However, that respect derives from fear. I'm afraid that the people in this castle are the only people who love him, who see the better in him."

"So I see it's been a lonely castle on this hill," you nod in understanding. "I won't bombard you both with anymore questions. You both are free to leave, I will meet you both in the dining room."

"Are you sure, my lady?"

"I'm sure. Please, I do not want to be a burden to you both."

The nymphs giggle. "We assure you that you are not. It's rather refreshing to tend to someone other than the king and his brothers."

"You both have been very kind. I will see you both there."

"And my lady," Cricket speaks. "We wish you a wonderful stay."

"Jungkook," Circe acknowledges his presence in a blink of an eye the minute he makes a step onto the property that was under an invisibility spell for nearly a decade, only to have it reappear as if it didn't disappear in the first place. "Here to welcome me back?"

The king lowly laughs, not taking another step onto the property as Circe turns around from watering her deep red rose bushes planted right outside. "I was surprised to hear that you made a foolish decision to move to the mundane world."

Circe ticks her tongue, shaking her head at how his prejudice against the humans stain his tone. "I don't believe it was foolish, dear Jungkook."

"Is that what you tell the Counsel?"

Circe lets out an amused sound, maneuvering around her bushes. "The Counsel can believe what they want, but they hold nothing against me. By law, I am allowed to be here and to be there. I may be a witch, aging like a mere mortal, but I still uphold powers strong enough to burn them alive before they can even think of crossing me."

"I have no doubt," Jungkook smirks. "But by law, is your daughter allowed to be here?"

Circe pauses her watering, hose in hand halting with the water continuously drenching a part of the rose bush as she raises an eyebrow. "Why are you here, Jungkook?"

"I heard she attends Ember Academy now. Enrolled as a full-fledged witch. I've come bearing a gift for her."

"A gift?"

"Call it a welcome back gift," he speaks with an anticipating tone right before he walks over to his horse of where a woven basket was attached to the saddle. Circe remains where she stands, watching him carefully as he walks towards her before she senses something, one that makes her hair stand on her arms. As he nears, Circe peeks into the basket, only to have her jaw drop as she sees that it is a kitten.

A kitten of midnight beauty, sleeping soundly in its basket of blankets.

Circe, who could not help it at all, laughs. Soft laughter rumbles through her throat as she coos at the creature, reaching her hands out to take the basket in her hands. "And your arrival has nothing to do with the fact that today is her birthday?"

"Is that today?" Jungkook ponders aloud as Circe laughs, sneaking a smirk on his face before she strokes a finger on the kitten's head carefully and gently. She can tell that he remembers, and that the years leading up to now, he always have.

Sighing, Circe's smile fades as she looks up at Jungkook, tired eyes and all. "I must tell you, Jungkook."

He raises an eyebrow at her.

"I've grown ill," she begins, retracting her finger from the kitten to hold the basket with two hands. "I have been for awhile now and I can feel my end nearing. I trust to believe that you will protect her."

Jungkook blinks a couple times, the odd construct of having someone who has been around for longer than he has tell him explicitly that their end is inevitable and that it was nearing quite sooner than he expected was worth a double take and a few seconds to digest.

"You may not want to stay tied to her, but I trust you enough to uphold her secret. And to protect her when needed," the kitten purrs meekly in the basket, making Circe glance at it for a mere moment before meeting the concerned eyes of Jungkook with matching knitted eyebrows. "Believe that I am not entrusting you with her life, but that the feeling in your heart of wanting to protect her is inevitable. No matter if the knot remains untied."

He opens his mouth, but the words he could not formulate were taken away quickly by Circe's chuckle, waving him off.

"I know what you'll say," she raises an eyebrow, lips curling and eyes creating crescents. "But if anything happens in the future, must you know you have my blessing."

"Circe," he begins.

"She'll appreciate this kitten," Circe interrupts, smiling at how the kitten inhaled and exhaled, curling in its ball with comfort of the soft fleece blankets. "I'm sure you don't want her to know it came from you, perhaps?"

There is a knowing look that the two share, one of pure guise. "May it be our little secret."

"Among thousands," Circe nods, one in which Jungkook does the same. "Will this be the last time we meet?"

"I would hope not."

"Then I bid you farewell, either for now or forever," Circe smiles, a weak curl of her lips, an evident form that made Jungkook realize that she looked much older than before— the gray hairs, her smile lines and forehead wrinkles. It all reminded Jungkook that she is, in fact, a pure mortal, withering faster than most. It scares him, but it makes him curious as to her motive despite him knowing that she did it out of love.

As he leaves the ebony kitten in Circe's hands to give to her daughter's possession, he departs her property with the lingering thought that maybe— perhaps people really do scary things out of love.