#and sometimes he gets really caught up on certain things and wont listen to reason

[wakaposting]

Author's note that changed my life btw. destroyed me

[bonny-kookoo]

Soulmates (JJK x Reader) ☁️🔞💜

✨ Pairing: Jeon Jungkook x Reader

✨ Genre: Angst, Breakup AU, Idol AU, Smut, fluff/romance

✨ Warnings: Breakup, crying kookie because that needs to be a warning, arguing, shouting, some mean things being said, safe sex because we wrap it up even if we’re sad friends, vanilla sex, it’s just basic lovemaking y’all what do you think this is, hopeless romantic Jungkook, jk is super bad expressing his feelings and kinda petty

✨ Summary: Jungkook always told you that you were his soulmate. But sometimes, soulmates aren’t meant to be, are they?

Jungkook had a nasty habit.

And it was that every time he thought he was right, he became selfish. And no, not in any cute kind of way. He would start to chase his own tail in a sense; completely blocking out any kind of other opinion than his on a topic. It lead to the shouting match you both had now; his voice considerably louder than usual, a whine to his tone that in no way was intended to be charming. No, the way he drawled out certain syllables was to only further make sure you knew how upset he was.

"What do you want me to do!" He yelled, looking at you with a gaze that you knew could easily guilt-trip you into giving in. But this time he needed to be an adult, you needed him to understand your side of the situation as well. "I can't just make everything disappear and make everyone forget my face." His eyes were still hard. "They'll figure it out anyways, I don't get why we have to hide it anyways!" He groans out, as you sigh, a headache incoming.

"Because it would be the end, Jungkook." You argue back, voice however in no way as loud and stern as his was. "I'm not telling you that you have to be an actor onstage, but I'm asking you to leave our problems and arguments Off-Stage Jungkook. Everyone on twitter got concerned why you were so serious during your stage!" You said. Because this had been the main issue at hand. He have had a concert just a few hours ago, but you weren't able to attend it. The reason had been that some staff members forgot to pick you up from the airport due to some problems that had come up last minute. You had been understanding, simply ending up taking a cab to yours and his shared apartment, watching his performance via livestream instead. He'd sounded upset over the phone, frustrated even, yet you had tried to reassure him that it wouldn't be his last- you would always be there the next. What did upset you however, was how he had been openly upset onstage about it. He seemed agitated, serious, and not his usual self, which had lead to not only his bandmates scolding him, but also you. You had simply asked him to remember that fans couldn't know what happened away from the cameras. They didn't know, and they had no hand in it either- he was being unfair by punishing them with his behavior. But his habit of growing hostile when critic got too personal blasted everything out of proportion, now ending in the situation you had in his kitchen.

"Well, I'm not gonna go up there and be all happy while I don't even know if you're safe!" He barks back. "You're just as important to me as the band, as my job, can't you appreciate that?" He whines, and your eyes become even more upset.

"Jungkook, I do appreciate it, but it's also what I'm scared of." You say, and he furrows his brows. "You can't do this Jungkook, please. I told you I can wait, I'll wait forever, but this is a limited time. I want you to enjoy it fully, without responsibilities, because they'll be there soon enough. I want you to be with your band 100%." You say, and he suddenly grows quiet.

"You sound like you're breaking up with me right now." He wonders across from you, his voice now eerily low and considerably less loud and angry. You can't look at him.

"I don't know if I should." You answer him, and his eyes suddenly widen a bit, glistening as the tip of his nose turns red. He's close to crying, you know it. But you have to do what's best.

"Don't." He says, hands balling into fists before he nervously wipes them down his sweatpants, suddenly on edge. He's always like this whenever he's unsure of what he's supposed to do. It's quite endearing, if it wasn't because of such a matter. "You- We'll find a solution, I shouldn't have, you know, gotten so upset-" He starts, but you shake your head.

"Please, let's just.. not." You mumble, and you still can't look up at him. "I'll uhm.. I'll sleep on the couch, okay? I try and be gone tomorrow morning." You say, and only now do you move, trying to get out of the kitchen, as he suddenly embraces you from behind, his large body shaking as he struggles to form a coherent sentence through his tears.

"No no I didn't mean it-" He apologizes, even though there is nothing there to say sorry for. "I'll be better, I'm sorry, I won't do it again-" He chokes out, but you hesitantly grab his hands, trying to unravel his arms around you. He holds on tight, like a toddler not wanting his mother to go and leave him alone. It somehow feels just as heartbreaking to you. "Don't go, I'm not letting you, please stay.." He begs, and it reminds you of a tamper tantrum your friends kid held in a store a few weeks back.

"Jungkook please, don't.. don't make it so hard." You say, trying to be brave but ultimately failing as you have to swallow hard to keep your own feelings locked. At least until you're alone. You finally manage to get out of his hold, as he stands before you, eyes red and cheeks wet with his tears as his bottom lip trembles visibly.

"Are- you serious?" He asks, voice higher in pitch as he struggles to keep it steady. "You'll leave me alone like that?" He almost accusingly says, and you sniffle.

"You're not alone Jungkook, you're never alone. You shouldn't even be here, you should be sleeping at the dorms like you used to. I'm just pulling you away from the band, and its not fair! I have no rights to do it, I'm being selfish, I'm now interfering with your work as well, Jungkook, don't tell me you're this blind." You say, as he looks at the floor, caught red handed.

Jungkook dries his nose on his sweater sleeve as he swallows. "I'll.. go and sleep at the dorms then. You uhm.. can take the bed." He mumbles, as you nod, even though you probably won't be able to. "Are you.. will you.." He starts, and you nod with a sad smile.

"My promise still stands." You say. "If you'll still want me then, I'll wait until this dream is over." You say. He nods, biting his lip as he grows unsure again. He doesn't know what to do, if he should hug you, or not, kiss you, or not, hell he doesn't even know if he can look at you now. So he simply nods again, shuffling away as you stay put, listening to him putting his shoes on, as the door shuts after he leaves.

Only then does it hit you.

And only then, do you let yourself cry, sob as you scream and fall to the ground, letting it out.

As he sits in the living room he once felt so familiar in, he notices how alienated he feels. It's awkward as Jimin and Suga look at him, unsure what they should say. Only now does Namjoon come into the room, surprised to see the youngest. "What's going on?" He asks, and Taehyung gives a bottle of water to Jungkook, as the youngest mumbles his answer.

"We broke up." He says, and everyone seems to grow sad at it. They really liked you, even though everyone had been wary at first; you had proven to them however, that you were genuinely in love with Jeon Jungkook, and not only the Jungkook of BTS that made headlines if he only did as much as sneeze in public. His money didn't matter to you and neither did his fame- yet they had all feared this outcome. "She said uhm.. she doesn't want to interfere with my work so.."

Suga nods at this, and sighs. "Mature choice." He says. "Shows she cares about you." He concludes, as Jimin seems to want to argue. Jungkook shrugs. "But I think a lot of it came from you." He speaks, as he looks at the youngest, who furrows his brows. "Think about it. It was your choice to spend your time at your private apartment rather than here so you could be with her. You get upset when she doesn't text you, and fuss over her if she gets hurt." He explains, as Jungkook suddenly feels as if he's being scolded again, huffing as he slids into the couch with frustration. "But that's who you are; you invest yourself 100% if you find something that makes you happy." Yoongi puts his phone away.

"That's totally helping, hyung." He grumbles out, as Jimin throws one leg over the other.

"I think what he's trying to say is that you have to find a good balance." Hoseok says as he sits down as well. "You always give it your all, and thats great, but it wont work long-term. Split your time equally, make space for a piece of everything instead of trying to carry it all at once." Jungkook sighs, as he feels his eyes sting again.

"Well, doesn't matter anyways." He huffs out, as his voice chokes up again. "Guess at least PD-Nim will be happy." He grits out before he begins to cry again, everyone at loss on how to comfort the youngest of the group.

Jimin chimed in at that, gently scolding the youngest. "Now thats unfair." He says. "He's not gonna be happy over you being upset Jungkookie." He scolds, and Jungkook looks down at his hands in his lap.

He knows hes being petty and childish right now. He knows things like these happen. He knows that you love him, and that you're probably just as upset as he was.

But he was heartbroken as well.

And he hates it.

It takes him a while to figure it out.

It takes him to break down during a concert in front of thousands as he realizes its the first ever since your breakup; as he remembers that no, this time he won't go home to his own apartment but he'll share a room again. He won't be rubbing his sweaty hair teasingly on your neck to hear you laugh and yell at him to stop. He won't be getting to hold you through the night after he'd made sure you both felt close and satisfied before he'd fall asleep with you.

It takes for him to cover a heartfelt song with your name on the tip of his tongue, making fans fawn over the emotional tune in his voice as he let's go of his pent up feelings through the only thing he knows he's good at; music.

But he eventually figures it out.

BTS is granted a small hiatus, a moment to breathe, as he immediately knows what he wants to do with the time he'd been gifted. He visits his parents, tells them about you and his plans, and feels even more motivated as he finally returns home into his private apartment, previously owned by him and you. He wonders how many nights you'd fallen asleep in front of the TV waiting for his live concerts to be shown. He sits down, grabbing his phone, as he calls your number, secretly wondering if you've changed it.

You didn't.

Nothing is being said at first, until he speaks. "Hey."

"Hey." You answer, unsure.

"I've made time now." He says, and you sigh on the other side of the line, saying his name as you're ready to argue, before he stops you. "No no no not like that, aish.." He runs a hand over his face, hair longer now as he thinks about what to say next. "Long term. I.. Yoongi-hyung said that I'm merely growing up, and that that includes changing, but-" He starts, and his voice is a bit raspy from slight overuse from recording another cover earlier that day. "I wanna grow up with you, not away from you. I wanna change, but I want to change right next to you I-" He stutters a bit as he grows nervous. "I don't want to wait until this dream ends Y/N.." He says, throat closing up as he thinks about how you maybe changed your mind. He can't give up like this, though. "I want to live this dream with you." He finishes, and its quiet for a moment. Until he hears you sniffling.

"You're stupid." You say, and start to laugh as he does too.

"Where are you right now?" He asks, and you sniffle again before you can answer.

"Crying at Hangang bridge, what about you?" You chuckle, and he smiles at no one in particular.

"Can you.. Can I pick you up?" He wonders, picking at the ends of his sweatpants' strings. You agree, and he gets up immediately, grabbing his jacket, a mask, and his cap as a disguise.

The door hits the wall with a loud noise, making Jungkook hiss a bit as he's a bit startled by the noise, before he simply resumes in kissing you feverishly, not caring much about any damage might done as he closes it shut behind him. He slips out of his shoes and picks you up with ease after you've discarded yours as well, stumbling a bit with you in his arms as he laughs on the way into his bedroom, your arms safely around his neck in fear he could drop you.

He'd never.

He makes sure your back meets the mattress softly as you both shuffle out of your jackets, his cap meeting the floor somewhere as he unhooks the mask from behind his ears, the fabric having been moved to rest under his chin anyways, simply to be able to kiss you silly. He shrugs off his coat as his hands help you to throw your shirt over your head, his body crawling over yours as his hands move over your skin. He's in heaven, absolutely insane for your touch as your cold hands slip under his oversized carhartt shirt. He wonders for a moment how he could ever make it work without you, without your presence, your touch, your love and care for him. He's happy he doesn't have to, glad he was able to pull you back towards him, as he leaves open mouthed kisses along your neck, carefully cupping your breasts until he unhooks your bra, helping you discard the piece of underwear before he places a few kisses on their bare skin as well, relishing in the feeling of them, warm and soft in his palms.

"I love you so much." He mumbles onto your skin as if to tattoo the words underneath it, to keep them safe inside your flesh never to be forgotten by you.

"I love you more." You humm against his lips as his meet yours, his grin making his eyes crinkle at the sides as he helps you get him and you out of the rest of your clothes. He moves away for a moment to get a condom, before he jumps back on the bed in a manner that's almost too childish considering what you're about to do, but somehow it's so undeniably Jungkook that you simply laugh, closing your eyes as your head falls into the wrinkled bedsheets below.

"Impossible." He answers a little late, as he slips on the safety over his length, kissing you again as he carefully slips inside you, breathing out a sigh of relief at the feeling of your warmth around him. "You feel like home." He humms out, a rough grunt escaping him as he begins to move his hips, years of dancing experience making it easy for him to find a rhythm perfect for you both. You still smile.

"You're so cheesy." You huff out, as you look at him, his hair falling downwards as your hand instinctively reaches for the back of his head, pulling him onto your lips again, hooked on his taste as he needily bites your lower lip, sucessfully opening your lips to grant him access. A younger, more innocent version of him would've thought of this sloppy and intimate way of kissing as weird and maybe even gross, but his current version couldn't care less. He'd do anything to feel close to you.

So he doesn't care that your juices make your bodies slippery, that his sweat starts to collect on his temples, or that the sheets underneath you two would probably have to be washed. It doesn't matter, because he's with you, he's holding you' he's inside you- nothing could make him stop now.

When he reaches his climax, spiling into the condom inside you, he reaches between you two, inked hand finding your most sensitive spot as he eagerly moves his fingers over it, making your whine and whimper as you come undone as well, clenching around his sensitive cock as he breathes heavily, letting his head rest on your shoulder as you both take a moment to collect yourselves.

He laughs after a moment, slipping out of you with a slight hiss at the sensitivity, before he heavily rolls onto his side, taking a deep breath before he groggily heaves himself into a sitting position, discarding the condom before he flicks on the bathroom light with a click, the sound of gushing water soon filling the apartment as he filled the bathtub with warm water, carefully opening a drawer where some of the bathsalts and soaps were kept, before he puts some in, gentle smell meeting his nose as he smiles softly. He tucks some of his hair behind his ear as he steps back into the bedroom, corners of his mouth still turned upwards as he spots you still laid out on his bed. "Come on, let's take a bath, yeah?" He humms, as you smile sleepily, letting him carry you into the bathroom where he sits you down in the tub, returning into the room after he'd put the sheets into the hamper in the bathroom, and put new ones onto the bed, ready for when you both would return.

He steps into the tub, sitting behind you as he leans back against the cold tiles, you in his arms as he sighs. "I mean it, you know." He says as takes the loofah from the side, gently moving it over your arms as he carefully cleans your skin. "I'll balance it out better. I promise-" He says, as he moves your hair away from your neck over your shoulder, kissing the top of your other. "I'll be better. I promise." He concludes, before you move, turning around as you return his soft gesture, moving the soapy sponge over his skin as well as he watches you with fond eyes.

"Okay." You say, and almost laugh as his eyes widen, brows shooting up into his hair as he grins, moving forwards to hug you tight, uncaring for a moment that the water slightly spills off the sides, making him look at it in surprise for a second, before you both laugh as he lathers your face in sloppy kisses.

"Thank you!" He repeats. "Thank you- thank you- You won't regret it, I'll be good, promise!" He says, and you smile at him.

You know he's gonna keep his promise.

You're happily chewing on your snack Jungkook had bought you earlier, as your head rests on the crook of his neck, your legs thrown over his lap as you sit on his thigh, his hands clicking the mouse and typing on the keyboard as he adjusts some stuff. He'd invited you to spend some time with him at the studio, only if you wanted to of course, and he did tell you it would probably be boring. You disagreed, even now- sure, you weren't doing anything, but it was interesting to see him produce songs. He clicks to save his project, before he shuts down his computer, leaning back in his chair as he groans, head falling backwards. "Done?" You ask, and he shakes his head.

"Not quite, but I shouldn't be working anyways." He says, as he pulls his phone out of his jean pocket, checking something before he playfully slaps the side of your bottom. "Alright, up up, we have a camper van to pick up and some bags to carry love." He exclaims, and you smile. He'd decided after a bit of brainstorming to take you on a small trip to jeju Island, having managed to get in contact with some people to be granted access to a more private campsite, so he could spend his small trip as safe as possible with you. He'd post any picture of the scenery and him later, after the trip- he knew how easily his fans could pin point where he was from past experience.

As he locks the door of his studio, he walks down the hallway with your hand in his, mindlessly, as if it's second nature for him to hold it anywhere he goes with you. Its charming, how he doesn't even notice he's doing it anymore.

He even opens the car door for you while he talks, again not noticing it at all as he simply continues what he's doing, driving you both to your now officially shared apartment. He'd had a talk with his bandmates about him and the dorm life- and they had all agreed that it was okay if he wanted to move in with you. As long as he'd spend enough time with them to not end up growing apart again, they were fine with it. After all, he was growing up, and that also meant for him to grow more independent.

He put the bags into the back of his car, a rented Palisade, as he drove you both to the airport, the plane you both board taking you to Jeju in a mere hour. A cab takes you two to the rental service where the campervan was already waiting for you two. He smiles as he moves everything into the van, thanking the guy providing some explanations on how things work, before he sits in the drivers' seat, you climbing in beside him on the passenger seat. He grins for a moment before he turns on the engine, driving off as you smile as well.

You don't know how the future is gonna go for the two of you. You're sure this wasn't the last hurdle you would be facing, but you're more sure than ever that you would manage it somehow. You'll make it work. You know that.

Because at the end of the day, you're still his soulmate. And they'll always find a way to be together.

Thank you for reading everyone, and please stay safe and healthy!

Love, Bonny. (C)2020 Bonny-Kookoo. Please do not repost, translate, or edit my content. Thank you very much.

[stankyleg89]

Open Window

Peter Parker x Reader (pretty gender neutral)

Warnings: a bit of language

Summary: A 3 am call from a certain web-slinging hero leads to new revelations

a/n: I stayed up until 2 am on a writing spree lol hope you enjoy. I think the reader is p gender neutral unless I missed something

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Ding ding! Ding ding!

I groggily got up and rubbed my eyes. The disoriented feeling in my head cleared as I stretched my arms. I flipped my phone to see Peters contact lighting up my phone. I looked to the corner of my screen.

3:17 am. 

Damn it Peter. Why does he have to call me this late?

I swiped my finger across the screen and held it up to my ear. “Mmmm-Yello?” I said, trying to sound coherent. 

Peter's voice rang through my head “Hey Y/N, how's it going?”

This is what he called me at 3 in the morning for? To see how it's going?

“Well, Peter, I was about to head out for a vigorous night of drinking and partying, but I was so rudely interrupted by a call from my favorite superhero,” I responded sarcastically. 

He took a minute to respond “Really?”

“No, dummy, I was sleeping. What could you possibly need at this hour!”

There was a long silence. I even checked my phone to see if he had accidentally hung up, but no, he was still on. 

“Peter?” 

“Right, yeah, can I come over? I can’t sleep and I don’t know what to do. I tried everything--I even went for a swing around the city, nothing!” He paused again. I could hear the gears in his head turning. It was almost like… he was hiding something. Nonetheless, I couldn’t say no to Peter, he was my best friend (besides Ned of course).

“Yeah, absolutely.” I began to sit up in my bed, trying extra hard to rub the sleep out of my eyes, “So, I’ll see you in 10?” I got up headed to open my window. The cold February wind wafted through, mixing with the warm air in my room, leaving goosebumps that crawled on my skin. It was nights like these that made sleeping under all of your covers so amazingly comfortable.

“Actually, funny thing. I may have swung all the way to your apartment. I’m outside now.” I heard a clunk from outside the window and a familiar mask popped down from above my window. I jumped back, not expecting the web-slinger so soon. I regained my composure and hung up the phone, throwing it on the bed, along with myself as Peter let himself in. 

I turned and watched as Peter crawled into my window, hitting one of the pots with his foot. Just as quickly as he kicked it, his spider senses had kicked in and he had caught it, managing to only spill a little soil on my rug. He looked up at me, and I could tell through the mask that he had a small, almost embarrassed smile on his face. He made it through the rest of the window and set the small plant back on the sill, promptly closing the window with it. He took off his mask and turned to me, throwing it onto my desk. I looked closer at him and noticed the tired in his eyes. He looked downright miserable.

I pulled the numerous blankets back and patted the spot next to me, “hop on in, partner,” a small, sincere smile drew itself on my face. He tapped the spider on his chest and the suit immediately deflated itself, pooling at Peter's feet. He stepped out and draped it over the back of my desk chair. He was wearing nothing but his boxers as he stood in front of me. I guess he didn't realize until we had met eyes, but no sooner we had both begun to blush. I looked away out of a mixture of embarrassment and curtesy, and cleared my throat. “Um, I think I have a spare set of mens sweatpants if you want some,” I tried my hardest to sound cool, and calm. I heard a small “yes please” from Peter and immediately hopped up from the bed and went to my dresser.

I was rummaging through my dresser for a good minute, and for every second I could feel Peter behind me, trying his hardest to act casual. Swaying back and forth and looking around my room, trying to distract himself with it all. I found my sweats and turned back to Peter, who immediately met my eyes again. I looked away quickly and walked over to him, handing the pants over. Our eyes once again met, but this time it felt less awkward, like we were both two people who were fully clothed. I soon came to realize that neither of us were. He was holding a pair of my sweatpants, standing in his boxers. I was in an oversized Green Day t-shirt and underwear. Once again we were both blushing. 

It's not my fault though. The way he was basically naked in front of me. His chiseled body was like looking at a fucking god, I mean… God Damn. Let me just say I would not hesitate to let that man DESTROY me, but I could never tell him. No matter how lovestruck I was, Peter was a friend first, eye candy second. Plus, I knew he probably didn’t feel the same way, I heard him talking to Ned one day about how he was thinking about asking Liz to Homecoming. But just because he was off the market, doesn’t mean I can’t admire the product. 

I gave him a smile as he slipped the sweats on, and walked back over to the bed. Giving him a once over I broke the silence, “Damn, Parker, my sweats are doing wonders for your ass,” I let out a laugh as he turned to me, a coy smile and a blush plastered on his face. This made me laugh even harder, which made Peter let out some quiet laughter. He climbed into bed next to me and we both lied down, the laughter now dying down.

“So Parker,” I started, turning over so that I was looking at him. “What brings you around at this hour?” He let out a sigh, but didn’t respond. This didn’t sit right with me, so I sat up to look at him in the face. He was staring at the ceiling, unbothered by my staring. “Hey, whats up?” This time I was more serious, hoping that that would pry an answer out of him. 

He closed his eyes and scrunched up his face “I- don't want to say, its…” He trailed off for a moment, as if trying to stall his next words. “Embarrassing,” 

I rolled my eyes and now sat fully up, “Peter it’s ok, you can tell me. I wont judge, I promise.” He opened his eyes slightly to look at me. I was smiling, hoping that that might help ease the embarrassment. He looked back up at the ceiling, “I… had a nightmare,” he breathed out and was now covering his face to hide his embarrassment. I didn’t understand. Everyone gets nightmares sometimes. It was completely normal. 

“Well Peter, everyone gets nightmares sometimes--I don’t really think you should be embarrassed about that. But, if it would help, you can tell me what happened.” I felt like however silly his reasons were, I wanted to to be supportive of my friend. 

“That's the thing” he started. This time he sat up and turned so that we were eye to eye. “I had a nightmare about you.” The face I was making must have scared him, because he hastily continued, “I-I mean like you are ok now so it's fine, but it was pretty horrific. I remember I was umm- running, because I heard you yelling for me. It was like running through a maze, but when I finally found you, you were…” He stopped. His eyes were turning red and you could tell it was becoming harder for him to finish, But he carried on. “You were lying on the ground, and like, half your face and your arm were all burnt up like him like Mr.-” He couldn’t finish as he wiped away some tears that were falling from his face. I didn't need him to finish however, and ended up wrapping ghim in a hug. I felt him sniffle as he leaned his head down into my shoulder, wrapping his arms around me. It felt nice knowing that I could be there for him. I heard his breath steady as he continued. “It j-just felt so real and now I feel like I can never close my eyes again without seeing your body-” He couldn’t finish.

I thought for a moment, trying to figure out a way to calm Peter down. I pulled back from the hug and told Peter to lie down. “Come on Peter, lets get some sleep,” I moved to turn the lights out, then found my way next to a sniffling Peter. “You know that will never happen, I can promise you that,” I whispered. “I know you are still upset about Mr. Stark, and I know you have been through a lot. I need you to know that you still have so many people here to help you stick out the pain. You’ve got May, Ned, MJ…” I trailed off, getting lost in my thoughts. 

I heard Peter speak up quietly, “You?”

I smiled at the thought of Peter thinking about me “Yes Peter, obviously me. Anytime you have another nightmare, my window is open.” I looked at him through the darkness, and I could tell he was looking down at me. “Looks like you're stuck with me” 

I could tell the gap between us was thin. I could feel his breath on me. I wanted so badly to move up and kiss him, but he did that for me. Our lips met and all of my thoughts went out the window as I kissed him back. May I just say. Holy Fuck. I had only dreamed of kissing Peter and now… Jesus Christ. His lips were chapped slightly, but soft nonetheless. You couldn’t even tell it was one of the first kisses Peter had ever had, but boy ‘o’ boy was it his favorite.

It ended seconds after. As we both pulled back, the looks of surprise and bliss were written all over our faces. Anyone who had walked into the room at that moment could clearly tell what had happened. Peter leaned back and stared at the ceiling in awe “Holy shit. That was...” It was almost as if he was at a loss for words. 

“Overdue.” I finished his thought for him and let out a small laugh, “guess you really are stuck with me now huh?”

If you had told me at the beginning of the night that I would be locking lips with Peter Parker, aka my longtime crush, aka Spiderman, I would have laughed in your face, but now… 

 He turned and wrapped me in his arms. “I don’t think I’ll have trouble getting to sleep tonight, now that I’m here, with you.” I felt his chin rest on the top of my head, and I took this chance to snake my arms around him, resetting my head on his chest. We sat in silence, listening to each other breathe for quite some time. I felt his chest vibrate as he hummed quietly “This is great.” his voice was low, like he was on the verge of falling asleep. This was the understatement of the year. If heaven were a feeling, this would be it.  I felt my eyelids getting heavier and heavier, and soon enough Peter's heartbeat had lulled me to sleep. He had fallen asleep soon after. The thoughts of him coming through my window more regularly, not to mention the smell of me floating through the room put his mind at ease. I felt like I was the luckiest person in the world.

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a/n: I hope yall liked the read! lmk what you thought about it ;0

[yukina-otome]

Otome game MC’S

Hello everyone ! Today i am gonna tell you about my opinion on the mc’s of the otome games i played ! Again this is just my opinion so feel free to share yours or complete with your opinion on mc’s of otome games i didnt include !

This is not a ranking btw !

MLQC MC: Youran

Job: Producer | Queen

Age : 22 year old

Good points : 1-Brave and take risks 2-Never give up 3-Smoll bean (seriously she's so cute) 4-Really nice and helpfull (walk around the city for hours every week to help anyone in need) 5-Hardworking 6-Tell whats on her mind and doesnt hide her feelings 7-Can play piano

Bad points: 1-Bad decision making 2-Rely on the boys too much 3-Mary sue 4-Clumsy AF 5-Sneez\ stomach noises when boy is about to kiss her

Mystic messenger mc:

Age and Job: Depends

Depend on the route 1-Yoosung : Super patient and mature 2-Jaehee: Supportive 3-Jumin : God levels of patience but also kinda always have to agree with jumin which i hate 4-Seven : Happy go lucky and clueless about her whole situation (Seven : There is a BOMB | MC:LOL OK) 5-Another story : Guillible but also very patient. (i would take none of that s**t) Common to all routes : Have no eyes

My candy love MC: Lyn Darcy AKA Candy

Age : 17 during 1st season \ 23 during 2nd season \ 25 during 3rd season

Job : High schooler\ college student\ coffee owner

Good points: 1-Friendly 2-Helpful 3-Open minded 4-Pretty 5-Very strong mentally (during the highschool part) 6-Appearance can be customized 7-Energetic 8-Can get angry and speak her mind (depend on your choices)

Bad points: 1-Nosy AF 2-Mary sue 3-Play terapist with literally anyone she meet even if that mean getting herself in trouble and ignoring her own love life 4-Paranoid 5-Childish (even for a highschooler and even more in campus life)

7hotties MC AKA the worst mc (No pic for her cause tumblr says only 10 pic per post)

Job : Freelance designer  Age : middle 20′s

Good points :

1-None

2-Nothing

3-Absolutely nothing

Bad points: 1-Weak 2-Useless 3-Doormat 4-Almost jobless (never seen her work aside from keita's route because he is the one who gave her the job) 5-Bland AF 6-Forgive everything a guy do to her (even rape) 7-Never actually get mad (even after a guy sleep with her and dump her literally right after she's like "pls don't abandon me! Tell me if i did anything wrong ! I'll fix it")

SSS MC:

Job: Concierge at the royal shining

Age : Early 20′s

Good points: 1-Sassy 2-Have a goal in her life and a dream she will not abandon no matter what 3-Can solve mental illness with love (because otome game power) 4-Described as extra pretty (All the boys at her workplace like her) 5-Doesnt give up easily 6-Actually got some backstory 7-Thirsty AF 8-Relatable

Bad points: 1-Forgive too easily (Minami's route !!) 2-Always get caught when spying or listening on someone's conversation 3-Clumsy AF 4-Can't brew coffee even after two weeks of trying (toma's route) 5-Actually not so good at her job but she's trying really hard

Le secret d'henri\Henri's secret MC: Lyla (Actually not an otome game, more like a visual novel but i wanted to include it because i absolutely love the mc and also because it's getting a remake and i wanted to promote it a bit)

Job : Highschooler

Age: 17 then 18

Good points: 1-Strong 2-Naive in all the right ways (she know how naïve she is but still choose to be naïve because she'd rather get backstabbed because she trusted than miss the opportunity to know a good person because she didn't trust)

3-Very pretty (Said to be the prettiest girl in all the high school and literally every boy she met aside from her brother and clement her bestie want to date her.)

4-Very popular 5-She is so nice even Henri call her a saint 6-Have the best family 7-Have the best friends 8-Supportive 9-Likes to play detective and solve people's problem 10-You really get attached to her by the end of the story you are almost sad because you wont get to see her again

Bad points: 1-Overreact 2-Drama queen (I understand tho as she is still a highschooler so she get emotional and depressed quite easily specially when it comes to a certain someone)

3-A bit too perfect sometime : Pretty girl, nice , friendly, cool, like nailpolish and fashion but also manga and video games, smart etc etc 4-MARY SUE 5-Nosy but not in an annoying way

Ikevamp MC:

Job: Travel agent and blogger | Housemaid

Age: Early to middle twenties

Good points : 1-She's said to be very beautiful (leo's route) 2-Speak many languages and seem to have a wide board of interests 3-Adapt fast to her new environment (depend on the routes) 4-Mentally strong (specially in napoleon's route) 5-Kinda mature (sometimes and depend on the route) Bad points: 1-Inconsistent personality even in the same route 2-Mary sue 3-Can be very weak and submissive (depend on the route) 4-Have no reason to stay aside for the boy she loves (what I mean is that by the end of the route the only thing she have in 19th century France is her boyfriend, in some routes she doesn't even meet or talk to most of the other resident and she have no job aside from cleaning the mansion with Sebastian)

5-Also get kidnapped every route (don't know yet for Theo) 6-Always wear the same clothes

Ikerev MC : Alice

Job: Help at a bakery ?

Age: Early twenties (saw somewhere that she was the same age as ray, not sure tho)

Good points : 1-Like food 2-Foodie 3-Enjoy food 4-Food = Happiness 5-More seriously she's super positive and optimistic and adapt really fast to her environment 6-Friendly and happy go lucky 7-Have the power to repel magic and protect herself and sometime her suitor to some degrees

Bad points: 1-Clueless 2-Dumb AF 3-Bad decision making 4-Get kidnapped almost every route 5-Zero observation and deduction skills (Oliver's route) 6-Technically squat at the black\red army headquarter\Oliver and Blanc's house or Harr and Loki's house

Ikesen MC : Mai AKA the queen AKA the fireball AKA the little mouse AKA The godess AKA the wild boar

Job: Seamstress

Age: around 25

Good points : 1-Strong AF 2-Take no sh*t (Kenshin's route\ Nobunaga's route...) 3-Adapt quite fast to her new and very dangerous environement (if i was her i would not leave my room for the next 3 months) 4-Fireball 5-Saved her suitor in many routes (Kenshin, Ieyasu, Shingen...) 6-Sass Queen 7-Have a life in sengoku era aside from her suitor (kinda the opposite of ikevamp mc as i said in bad point 4) 8-Have a dream and a goal 9-Very beautiful (even kenshin said so outside of his route and he was not in love with her!) 10-A lot of chemistry with all of the boys even outside of their routes.

Bad points : 1-Mary Sue 2-In some routes she is weaker but it never really disturbed me as it suited the love interest of the route(Sasuke and mitsuhide's route) 3-Kidnapping

Midcin MC:

Job : Princess

Age: Heard somewhere that she is 19 but not sure about it

Good points : 1-Adapt fast to her new situation 2-Try her best to learn everything 3-Try to take responsibility as the new princess 4-Can't think of anything else for her...

Bad points : 1-Weak 2-Bland 3-Doesnt speak up when she actually need to (The dumpster fire that is Alyn's ever after) 4-Kidnapping sometime twice in the same route 5-Submissive depending on the suitor

Okko's games MC'S : Honestly they r all the same so reunited them all in one

Job and age : Depend on the game

Good points: 1-Hard working 2-Have goals and dreams 3-Usually have a backstory 4-Some of them are sassy 5-Pretty but doesn't take care of herself 6-Always have a very fashionable bestie with a lot of experience with dating that help her and listen to her problems

Bad points: 1-Emotional maturity of a middle school girl 2-Doesnt want to admit her feelings and keep denying them even when there is no reason to 3-Self sabotage 4-Blame herself for every bad thing that happens 5-Some of them are very weak and submissive

And that’s pretty much it ! Thank you for reading until the end ! Pls feel free to reblog and add on those with your opinion ! 

[moons-and-stars-and-shit]

Hiii i saw your matchups/cakes and I LOVE THEM. English is not my first language so i am sorry for any wrong spelings and grammar use lol. Can a Get a boy from Hq?????? I am a capricorn, with a lot of fire sign in my chart. ISTP. Tall girl, 175cm. Dark blond hair to under my shoulders, blue eyes. Lean bulid, but mby a little broad shoulders and waist. Enything else is normal ig. I indeed have cheek bones and jawline, a caps face traits a think. Stretch marked on my ass and things. Im just gonna keep my personality short cuz i dont know how to talk about myself. Im Shy and intro and first, then i will open up and become a messy and late-coming person. Im never on time to anything. Once you know me and logical thinking, feisty, dark humor type of funny, sly, stubborn, determind, strong minded, oberetiv and a daredevil. I will do enything for somthing in return. Nobody can hold me back. I am also a Clumsy person, a will let a word og two slip and offend somone, will break or forget somthing. Im always there my friends, help them out with everthing and my door is always open for them. Street smart all the way, i Can talk about enything and give tips and trix on enything. Im not the Life of the party, in a party im either outside or taking care of Ppl or i am sipping for other ppls drinks. I listen to pop/rock but i Can vibe to anything. I also love pasta. And cats, but im allergic): I overthink a lot, tend to bottle up on my emotions and then just let it burst when im alone. I got bullied as a kid, thats why i keep to myself and have Some close friends and then friends i dont trust that much. I like long lasting realtionships and friendships. I wont settle for somthing that i dont belive will work. I just want to feel safe and loved and held, lol. Am i rly ugly cryer btw so i wont look into another persons eyes. I train a lot, do sport shooting, wresle a lot with my friends and dad in a safe way ofc. I love to have a friendly and funny wtesle. I lough a lot. I said i do sport shooting, and i hate it when ppl take it the wrong way and starts to compare it to illegal activity. That my biggest pet peeve, and loud chewers. I LOVE CHEES AND CARD GAMES. Also late night means and snacks. My favorite time is like late at night, after sundown. Late night walks. Laser tag or paint ball is a must, Water and pillow fights AGH my dreams. Also, just to chill in a bathtub👌🏻✨Pfffff Idk what more. I would like a boy form Haikyuu, whos taller than me. Would be up to my randome and mby dangerous ideas, but also calm and relaxing when it fits the mood. Dosent need to know how to comfort a crying person, just like do the basics and ill be fine. THANK YOU SO MUCH😘

@sussebassen

Romantic Matchup

Tendou Satori

How Y’all Met

Ahhhh

Y’all had a class together

And EVERY SINGLE DAY you would show up late

Every. Single. Day

It doesn’t matter if you we’re 5 minutes late, or 15 minutes late

You never showed up on time

This peeked Tendous interest...

So, he asked you about it

You then explained how you never try to be late, it just always happened

Then one day

Satori was walking to class

The bell was going to ring soon so he was trying to hurry

Then he saw you

You were also just trying to get to class ON TIME for once

But you tripped...

And you fell...

And ALL of your papers went everywhere 🥲

You silently cursed to yourself before rushing to pick up your things

And you we’re startled when a certain redhead began to help you

You guys had gathered all of your things before RUNNING to get to class

And you guys were still able to make it on time 😃

The teacher made a remark that maybe you should hang around Tendou more often if it gets you to class on time

Little did he know that you would do just that

Apparently you both had similar interests

So you guys became really good friends

And feeling began to bloom over time

Poor bb was to scared to confess to you tho :(

He didn’t want to scare off one of the only friends he had

Of course he told all of this to Ushijima

And of course Ushijimas LOUD MOUTH

spilled the beans

Unintentionally of course

But still

He just didn’t get the gist that all of this was supposed to be a secret

So one day when he and Tendou were walking together

They saw you

And Ushijima was just like “ah your that person that Tendou likes correct?”

You:😳

Him:🙂

Tendou: 🥲

Tendou then took you aside and properly confessed his feelings

He was 100% sure you were gonna reject him

“I like you too Tendou”

I’m sorry what????

He was SHOCKED

Baffled

Beguiled

But SUPER DUPER HAPPY

he pulled you in for a bone crushing hug

And promised to be the best bf ever

Awww my boy luvs ya

What They Love About You

Ight I’m just gonna say it...

Mans ADORES your stretch marks

He thinks they’re so cool!!!

He often compares you to a tiger because of them

Oof

He LOVES your sense of humor

He also has a darker sense of humor

So you guys mesh very well when it comes to that

Loves that you have the combo of being sly and a daredevil

If there’s one thing satori loves...

It’s pranks

So those traits of yours make pranks so much easier to pull off 😩

He loves how he can talk to you about ANYTHING

He knows that if he’s ever distressed about something he can go to you

So he’s vv grateful for that 🙏

Favorite Things To Do Together

Oh he LOVES to play card games

His favorites is slap Jack

WARNING: he gets REALLY into that game

So he hits HARD

So be prepared...

He 100% swoops you away to stores in the middle of the night

Have you guys been caught sneaking out?

Yes

Was that the last time you did it?

Absolutely not

LASER TAGGGGGG

YOU WILL GET DESTROYED

MANS IS THE KING OF LASER TAG

So just take that L

Also paintball

He’s not that good at paintball

Mans aim is booty

But he still likes to play!

Random Hc

You’d actually be quite shocked on how chill he could be

Like sometimes he just reads his manga sin silence

If you want to talk then sure

But those are the moments he prefers to be quiet

The reason he’s so good at laser tag...

Is because kids used to target him 🥲

So he had to adapt...

And now he’s a pro!

If you ever want to talk to him about your bullyed past

ON GOD mans is always there for you

He knows what it feels like

So his goal is to comfort you when it comes to that

Honestly

Mf chews loud...

So that’s something you’d have to work on 😃

But he’ll try his best to stop if it bothers you THAT much

Astrology

Capricorn + Taurus

When Taurus and Capricorn come together in a love match, it’s a practical, sensible partnership.

These two Signs share a certain down-to-earth logic and interest in efficiency.

Taurus is not interested in risking more than is necessary in terms of emotional connection and involvement, and Capricorn is similarly disinterested in risk, but more in terms of money and career.

Capricorn’s career is one of the great focuses of their lives; they’re interested in scaling the heights and tend to set very high standards for themselves to adhere to.

Taurus has high standards as well, but regarding love, relationships and possessions.

These two signs admire ones dedication and strength, but, while they have this in common as well as a dependable, realistic, somewhat conservative approach to life (Capricorn more than Taurus), a love relationship between them can go stale fast.

The problem? They’re actually rather different at their cores.

Taurus may begin to find Capricorn too conservative and restrictive

Capricorn may start to think Taurus is too lazy and doesn’t care enough about career and status.

If Taurus can encourage Capricorn to relax a little and appreciate the fruits of labor, and if Capricorn can help motivate Taurus to achieve goals and make dreams a reality, their union can be smooth, happy and long-lasting.

Overall Aesthetic

Chaotic Teenage Romance

Songs

Electric Love- BØRNS

Line Without a Hook- Ricky Montgomery

Scrawny- Wallows

Hey Lover- Wabie

[thinkingisadangerouspastime]

grief

Written for Day 6 of @aangweek! Read here on AO3.

~*~

6. grief - and when i can’t be with you dream me near / keep me in your heart and i’ll appear

Aang took a deep breath as he stepped onto the balcony of Iroh’s tea shop in Ba Sing Se. The air was… well, not cool - it was never cool during Earth Kingdom summers, even if it didn’t get quite as hot as in the Fire Nation - but it wasn’t overly warm, either. The humidity wasn’t too extreme in the evening, though if anything Aang appreciated the slight gravity to the air. It was… grounding.

Fitting for the Earth Kingdom, but perhaps an odd sensation for an airbender to seek.

Still. Aang found a certain comfort in the air’s heavier presence. It was there. Surrounding him, clothing him. He was there, existing and living and breathing in the moment. In the present. In the now.

Only… He wasn’t.

No, Aang was in the past, as he was wont to be. Particularly on that day of all days. If he closed his eyes, the Southern Air Temple sat before him, alive and carefree and in its prime as it had been… a hundred and one years ago. If he listened, he could hear the laughter of students learning their first airbending technique from the monks. Echoes of the past. If he took a deep breath, he could smell freshly-made fruit pies, sweet and tangy like those he’d whip up with Gyatso.

Sometimes… Aang could pretend nothing had changed at all.

Of course, the truth was that everything had.

Aang sighed, opening his eyes to stare down at his wooden necklace. Engraved in the center was the symbol of his people and their element. Today was a day of celebration, he knew, but the heart didn’t often lend itself to such clarity.

It was the first anniversary of the end of the Hundred Year War. The first anniversary of the Fire Nation’s defeat. The first anniversary of a new, peaceful era. A cycle of cruelty had ended, and a future of harmony had begun.

Well, perhaps it wasn’t quite so simple.

A ghost of a smile graced Aang’s lips. How the past lingered on.

His friends were inside the Jasmine Dragon, laughing and teasing each other just as they’d done a year ago. They were relaxing after a long day of political tasks and dull meetings and formal celebrations, a decision for which Aang could not blame them.

Soon, they would join him on the balcony. Aang knew this. His friends never let him be alone for long.

But for now, Aang basked in the stillness. And he breathed.

“Greetings, Avatar Aang.”

Aang blinked upon hearing his name. Or rather, hearing his formal title. Of all his friends to join him first, he’d suspected it would be Katara. Maybe Zuko. But not… Well, who was Aang to question the workings of the universe? It was far more powerful than he.

“Grand Lotus Iroh,” he said, bowing to the older man. “Is there something you need?”

Iroh chuckled. “I suppose I don’t ‘need’ anything, but I will remind you that it is not necessary to address me so formally. Just ‘Iroh’ is fine.”

Aang gave him a small smile. “On one condition - you have to drop the formalities for me, too.”

Iroh’s chuckling became full-on laughter, booming from the man’s stomach. “Oh, you sound like my nephew. He can’t stand it when I address him as the Fire Lord.” He smiled at Aang. “I accept your condition, Aang.”

Aang found himself laughing, too. “Thank you, Iroh.” He’d always been fond of Zuko’s uncle. For one, Iroh had given him memorable - powerful - advice on their journey into the crystal catacombs together. And two, it was clear as day just how much Iroh loved Zuko, and how he tried to be the doting father Zuko had never had. In that respect…

Well, he reminded Aang of Gyatso. A little bit. Caring for a person with every bone in his body, guiding a child through responsibilities thrust upon them that they were unprepared to bear, and loving a little boy who wasn’t their own son. Who didn’t need to be.

“Are you alright, Aang?” Iroh asked, pulling him out of his thoughts. “I noticed you withdraw from your friends in my shop with a rather…” He paused. “Pensive expression, I suppose. I simply wanted to check on you.”

Oops. Had he already given himself away?

Aang shrugged, returning his focus to the cityscape of Ba Sing Se before him once more. Lanterns lit the streets as laughter and music filled the air. “I have a couple things on my mind. Nothing too serious.” A smile tugged at the corners of his lips. “I’d say it’s been a long, busy day, but I don’t want to imply you weren’t there for as much of it as I was.”

Iroh chuckled. “Perhaps I was there for most of it. But my responsibilities are certainly not comparable to those of the Avatar.” He, too, turned to look out over the city. “However… This day presents conflicting feelings to you, does it not?”

Aang stiffened as Iroh’s comment sunk in, wondering how on Earth the man could have known what was on his mind. But he soon relaxed, realizing it wasn’t exactly difficult to put two and two together. And moreover, Iroh was simply… well, he was an observant person. Zuko was his nephew, after all. During Zuko’s banishment, Aang had a feeling Iroh had needed two sets of eyes in the back of his head to keep track of him.

“That’s one way to put it,” Aang admitted, a soft smile inching onto his lips. “But I didn’t want my overthinking to ruin the festivities, so I came out here.” Even from the balcony, he could hear Katara and Sokka squabbling about the significance of a particular Pai Sho tile, soon interrupted by Mai dryly informing them that they were both wrong.

“I am sure your friends would not -”

“I know, I know,” Aang interrupted with a laugh. He looked down once more at the wooden beads hanging around his neck. “I think I just needed… a minute of quiet. With myself.” Himself, and the past that ever influenced the present.

Aang glanced at Iroh, hastily adding, “It’s okay that you came out here, though! I don’t - I don’t mind the company.”

Iroh gave him a warm smile. “Since I am here, would you like to share your thoughts with me? About your conflict, that is.” He stroked his beard. “Please don’t feel pressured, of course. But if you speak, know I will listen.”

Aang allowed a pause to pass between them. Gathering his thoughts. A moment of silence, filled only by his friends’ muted voices from indoors and the cityscape chattering around them. Then he sighed.

“It’s not a big deal, really.” Aang gently clasped his wooden pendant, fingers tracing the curves engraved in the center. “A year ago, I defeated Fire Lord Ozai. And I am happy about that. Happy that the war is over. That we won.” He exhaled slowly. “But if I think too much about it…”

His hand tightened on the beads, and Aang found himself looking anywhere but at Iroh. “I chose to spare Ozai’s life. I don’t regret that decision, because affirming and upholding the beliefs of my people is - is -” Aang blinked back tears, and he took a sharp breath before he continued. “One of the reasons it was so important was because I’m the last of my people. I’m the only one left who can uphold our beliefs.”

Aang bit the inside of his cheek to avoid breaking into sobs, but against his will a few tears slid down his cheeks. “When I think about it like that, when I remember how part of my choice was because - was because they’re gone -” Aang couldn’t finish, his teeth sinking into his tongue to stop a choked sob from escaping.

 The absence of his people was a never-ending ache, a pain rooted deep in his bones. And some days were more agonizing than others. Even days that should have been happy ones.

Iroh nodded. “I see,” he said after a pause, once Aang had wiped his eyes and eased his unsteady breathing. “I hope you understand, Aang, that your grief here is not irrational. While grief is seldom controllable, and often leaves us confused…” He shook his head. “It is not irrational. Your feelings here are what you need them to be.”

Iroh gave Aang a sorrowful look. “I regret that I have so little advice for you, Aang. The decisions of my ancestors, my brother, and my own may have caused irreparable damage to the balance of this world. Worse, in doing so, they stole everything from you. And for that…” Iroh shook his head. “No words can express my apologies.”

Aang exhaled slowly. “Not everything,” he finally said, once he was certain his voice wouldn’t waver. “Guru Pathik told me that my people’s love for me has not left this world. That it was reborn in the form of new love.” He gave Iroh a warm, if watery, smile. “You�� remind me of Monk Gyatso. The way you take care of Zuko, even though you aren’t his father. Because it doesn’t matter. You -”

Aang’s voice caught in his throat. Iroh didn’t comment, and Aang collected himself before he continued.

“You still love him,” he said, maybe a little wistfully. Spirits, there were times Aang missed Gyatso so much he couldn’t breathe. “You still love him, and you would do anything for him.”

Iroh gave Aang a soft, sincere smile. “That is the highest praise I have ever been awarded. Thank you.”

Aang looked down at his beads once more. This time, he noticed Iroh’s gaze following them, too. “And… the Fire Nation can’t take my grief from me. I will always remember my people, and I will always work to keep their memory alive.” What was the future other than a world built on the past?

Iroh nodded. “Grief is nothing if not love,” he mused. “Grief is all the love we have for someone, for something, that no longer has a place to go.”

Aang nodded, eyes watering for what had to be the umpteenth time since their conversation started. Grief was love. All the love Aang had for his people that he kept in his heart, love so jam-packed it made his chest ache with pressure about to burst.

But love was reborn. Every day. Reborn in his friends.

In his family.

Aang turned, wrapping his arms around Iroh in a tight hug, an embrace the older man gently returned. “Thank you,” Aang whispered. “For taking care of Zuko. For listening to me. For…” He exhaled. “Just for being here.”

Iroh shook his head. “No, Aang. I am the one who must thank you.”

Aang wasn’t sure when he started crying. He wasn’t sure when his friends joined him on the balcony, either. But when they all wrapped their arms around him in a massive, ridiculous, everything-he-could-have-ever-wanted group hug…

They were Aang’s present. His friends grounded him, keeping him in the now. And yet, if he opened his eyes?

Aang suspected he would fly.

~*~

idk how much i like this ficlet either lmaooo. regardless, aang deserves a million hugs and his friends will always be there to provide them!! i hope to see you tomorrow for the final day of aang week 2021 - love. (here's a hint: an overabundance of fluff. also, everyone's a little bit in love with aang! which is practically canon.) thank you for reading!

[interstellarrambles]

I’ve never requested anything from anyone but I’m in desperate need for a billy x goth!reader. Idk just how he noticed her in school cuz she is the only goth person and always asks her out and they flirt but she always rejects him until one day she agrees. Idk if that makes sense but thank u :)

a/n: so I dont know how to feel about this, I might edit and come and change it because I'm not sure of the ending, but if you like it, let me know! I tried to make it sweet at the end but this is definitely out of character for Billy, but I'm soft for him so idc. @savvy7392 I really really really hope you like this im sorry it took ages

harsh, confident and undeniably cool: everyone at Hawkins High knew not to fuck with you - you'd forged your own path in previous years and showed no signs of slowing down any time soon. there was just something about you that made people want to simply observe from the sidelines. known for dark makeup, brash music and taking no one's bullshit, you were somewhat of a divisive figure: people either really hated you and tried to make your life misery (to not much avail) or desperately wanted to befriend you.

somehow, along the way you'd made friends with the likes of Robin and by association, Steve, but you were happy with your small group of friends and didn't really care all that much for your hometown and what (or who) it had to offer.

therefore, when a fresh faced californian boy toy entered Hawkins High, you couldn't deny there was a certain allure to his cool demeanour and newness. unluckily for you, Billy found his place with the current popular kids sucking up to him and soon the rumours about you began to surface again. whenever you caught his eyes within the first few days of his arrival, his gaze would be quickly diverted by Tina or Carol as they glared at you or threw insults. that's why you decided it really wasn't worth getting involved with Billy Hargrove, even if he did have an amazing taste in music.

but God did you misunderstand the lengths to which this boy would go for your attention.

the first few days, Billy would opt for a smile sent your way, enough to make you weak at the knees but not quite enough to make you wander over to him. group projects would be announced in class and when he tried to subtly join you, you'd amble to the opposite end of the room to be with a bunch of kids you didn't even know, just to avoid him. and Billy knew you did it on purpose since after sitting down with your respective groups, you caught his eye and simply winked at him.

almost dropping his pencil in surprise, he was genuinely unable to believe you had successfully ignored him in such a blatant way. smirking back at his gaping mouth and sparklingly amused eyes, you simply laughed it off, sparking a conversation up with the boy next to you as easily as you had rejected Billy. shaking his head in disbelief, he made a promise to himself he'd make you friends with him if it was the last thing he did.

another day, you arrived at school with a too-short black skirt on and Billy felt his heartrate quicken at simply catching one glimpse of you, his blood rushing just a little faster than usual. he would never have the guts to tell you, but he absolutely adored the way you dressed and how good it made you look.

unexpectedly, you treated him to an actual wave this morning, something that fuelled his pursuits. all day, he pestered you in class, forcing those who would usually take the seat next to you to move elsewhere so he could be closer to you. deep blue and bright with attraction, his eyes would drop down to your thighs and the way they looked so amazing in the skirt you were wearing. desperately, he wanted to say something about it to you, but he knew he'd trip over his words; already he had blushed intensely when you caught him staring, though at least he could tell you were enjoying his gaze.

rather annoyingly, you did like the attention, smiling to yourself when he would ignore other people so he could walk you to your next class even if he was rambling to himself the whole time. curls falling in his face and a cheesy grin playing on his cheeks were enough to make butterflies swarm your insides and you had a terrible time trying to hide it.

in reality, you really didn't want to be cruel since it appeared he didn't really have anyone that cared about him much past the muscles and cute eyes, but you also were not about to walk straight into a heartbreak with both eyes open. billy was definitely a bad influence, even to you, the resident goth of Hawkins High, and whether he meant it or not, you knew you would eventually get hurt.

the next time, he plagued your locker with letters and notes and waited next to it, a permanent grin locked onto his features.

a red shirt clung to his biceps, tan skin visible due to the multiple buttons left undone and a silver chain dangling and catching in the light. strong and slightly overpowering yet undeniably attractive, his unique smell of cologne and liquor and maybe a little something else invaded your private space, making you way too nervous to deal with him this late in the day.

weeks of notes and smiles and blue eyes meeting yours way too often had weakened your resolve and if it didn't disgust you so much you would be able to admit Billy was slowly turning your heart to mush. you couldn't listen to mötley crüe without thinking of him and every time you picked out an outfit, you wondered if he'd think you were beautiful or if he'd like the band on your shirt. his compliments and soft gestures like driving you home and giving you his jacket when it was raining (even if it didn't fit your look) had grown on you massively. now you would even go as far to say you enjoyed his company.

"heya baby girl," he drawled, the curl of his plump lips breathtaking in the worst ways, "fancy coming along with me for the evening?"

even though he exuded pure confidence, you didn't miss the way he resembled a kicked puppy when you smiled and responded, "I've got assignments pretty boy, no thanks," shovelling the letters into your bag and turning on your heel to walk home.

unfortunately, this wasn't quite good enough for Billy, hence why he followed quickly, his voice echoing after you, "what's with the ignoring me constantly y/n? you stand at parties and complain about the music and watch me all night and yet you walk away when I come up to you. I've seen you staring at me in class sometimes or at lunch when I'm not bothering you and whenever I catch your eye, you leave. you watch me all the time and yet every time I think you'll come over, you ignore me. if you don't like me, that's okay but I need to know now."

cheeks burning with embarrassment, your eyes dropped to the ground as he pulled you away into privacy. you didn't know what to say.

"billy..." you managed, still unable to meet his chaotic gaze as he stood only centimetres away, breathing hard while he awaited your response.

"what is it? just give me a reason." he almost pleaded, relaxing slightly when you gave him a smile and finally met his eyes.

"do you realise how badly your friends hate me? because I dress weird and I listen to music they don't and I've always been different and you hate that they don't like me. I can't spend five minutes with you in public before you get nervous, I'm sick of you hiding me away! you're fine with me unless there's someone around and I don't understand it and it is tearing me apart," your outburst pulled at him, making him feel terrible for calling you out prematurely.

"I like you Billy but I can't deal with that. I like my little life of listening to bad music with my friends and dreaming of getting away one day and hanging at the mall with Steve and Robin. I love sitting in your car and sharing those moments you don't let anyone else see. I do. but I wont let you pretend I don't exist."

shifting on your feet slightly, you realised how ridiculous the whole thing was and all you wanted was for billy to scoop you up in his arms and make the world better again. you wanted him to let you do his eyeliner and you wanted to feel his hands on your hips, his touch driving you wild. you wanted him to kiss you right now in the hallway and tell everyone else to screw off.

but life isn't a dream.

so you settled for Billy whispering his sorrys and offering you his hand, which was enough to nearly make you cry since he would never usually be so open in public. content, you followed him as he led you to his car, all the while promising he'd change things for you, only stopping to talk properly when you reached it.

"promise me something Billy?" after confirmation from him, you continued, leaning against the hood of his car, him stood only centimetres away "you'll never be ashamed of me?"

"never doll, there's nothing to be ashamed of," he leaned in, holding either side of your face ever so gently, and when the kiss finally broke, he whispered, "now how about a date?"

"okay pretty boy, you name it."

that was a good enough start.

[ao3gingerswag]

Learning

Prompt Submission by modernurbanfantasy:

I would love some sort of future situation (if/when) Dean, Cas and Sam when they are back at the inn around how smart Sam is. Like we know how smart Sam is (and I think Dean probably does as well) and he wants to get Sam some education (in the church or in some local school) but that is obviously v difficult. So he is all sad thinking about what he would need to do to get Sam into a school and is trying to hide it from Case and then like idk Bobby or something is able to help get Sam some sort of deal with the local school bc they see how smart and talented he is. Idk just an idea. 

WARNING: SPOILERS FOR THE OUTSIDE

To: Pastor Murphy

My name is Sam and I am 10 years old. I saw your pamflet on the phisics of momentem posted on the church bulitin borde. I liked it a lot. I am writing to you becase I think you made a mistake tho. You cubed the largest side of the triangel when I think you meant to square it. If you square it it solves the problem you were talking about. I tride to go in to tell you but the man at the door said no I cant come in becase theres no church today and only the students can go in. And I dont go to the college. I tride to say I need to see you becase you made a mistake and tride to show him but he said i dont know what your talking about. So I am writing this note and leaving it here on the borde for you.

Thank you.

-Sam

Dear Sam,

In all the years I have posted my articles on the church bulletin, I have not once received a response from the local population. I have always continued to post them regardless, just in case anyone is reading them. I was so happy to discover that my efforts have not entirely been in vain.

I have received several letters from my colleagues since the publication of my paper pointing out my error, but none have been so polite as yours. Did you know, none of my own students caught the mistake you so kindly made me aware of? Authority is the bane of progress, I often think, as it seems since I took my position none but the few others in similar positions dare to question whatever I say.

Sam, I am delighted that Whitecreek is blessed with a child as inquisitive and bright as you. It is not often that I meet ten year olds who are interested in physics, much less those who can follow my published papers. If you like physics, I would be happy to meet with you and your parents this coming Sunday to discuss the subject and the possibility of furthering your education.

I am leaving this note with the guard you spoke to last week, and have asked him to give you this letter if he sees you again. If you have another letter for me, you can leave it with him and he will pass it along. I look forward to hearing from you soon.

Pastor Murphy,

The Whitecreek College of Natural Sciences

Hello Pastor Murphy,

Sorry I didnt come to the church Sunday I didnt get your letter until now. I dont live in whitecreek we only come once a month to get suplies. I live at the inn outside of whitecreek they call it the willow inn becase it is near a willow tree. Maybe you have heard of it maybe not if you dont travel.

I like everything not just phisics I like biolagy and astranomy and math and I like reading and I like learning and I like looking at bugs and plants and things in the woods. My dad didnt like it when i read tho becase he didnt know how and he said do you think your better than me. I said no but he still got mad at me. But I dont live with him anymore.

I really like learning a lot. I would like to meet you and talk about phisics and other things but I dont have parents I just have Dean and Cas. They run the inn and I help them. They said I can meet with you but Cas said to tell you that we have no money for school becase he said maybe you think I’m rich becase I can read and write but we are not rich. I learned to read by myself becase I like it. So I cant go to school and cant further my educatin like you said but I would still like to meet with you please if you want to.

Do you have any books I could look at? I like books but no one has any books. Cas has a book and he let me read it but I read it like a hundred times now and memerized it. If you have any books I could look at I would be very gratful and I would not mess them up I would be very careful. But if you dont have books or dont want me to look at them thats ok i understand i would still like to meet you please. I have a lot of questins. Like is the moon hot or cold. And lots of other things. I used to ask my dad but he yelled at me and sometimes he hit me i think especially when he didnt understand the questin.

It is better now becase Dean was always nice to me and listened to my questins and Cas I dont know him so well yet but he is nicer than dad and he hasnt gotten mad at me for asking questins yet. He says you are very smart Sam and it is good to ask questins which is nice. But even tho Dean and Cas let me ask questins alot they sometimes know the answer but usually they dont. They say you know more than me Sam. I think I do know more than them but only becase they dont know how to read I think everyone could learn everything if they just knew how to read. Thats how i learn things.

Please let me know if you still want to meet with me even tho I didnt see your letter in time. The guard said you are not here today becase you are at a lectchure about math in a diffrent city that is so exciting maybe you can tell me about it when you come back. I will be here again in four weeks I will come and maybe I can see you or maybe there will be another letter eether way thank you I am so happy.

-Sam

To: Sam, ten years old. Willow Inn, outside of Whitecreek.

Dear Sam,

I was truly overjoyed to receive your most recent correspondence. I had worried that I had scared you off or that your interest in science had faded. Clearly, these were merely the fears of an old man, who has become a bit too paranoid in his old age. I have in fact heard of the Willow Inn, and in fact I have stayed at it a few times when traveling that direction for a conference or a lecture. It has been a few years since I last had the pleasure of receiving their hospitality, but I had thought it was run by only a man and his son, who was about 13 at the time. Has the inn changed hands, since I was last there? Or has my faulty memory yet again betrayed my years?

In any case, I have sent a courier with this letter to the inn, in order to avoid missing you yet again when you again make your way into town. Sam, I am absolutely still interested in meeting you, regardless of your financial situation. Your literacy and thirst for knowledge is made all the more impressive by your lack of formal education. I will happily share all the resources I have with you, if you would like to learn. The college’s library has many books on all of the subjects you have expressed interest in. We have collections on physics, biology, astronomy, math, and several thousand others. All of these can be made available to you, and if you are as careful as you promise you will be, you can borrow almost any of them and take them home with you for the month. I would be happy to meet with you and discuss your readings when you make your regular trip to town, and could suggest which books you may want to start with, and which to continue with once you have studied those.

I am sorry that you have had difficulty in the past when you have tried to express your curiosity. Unfortunately there are many in the world who don’t care for knowledge, and resent those of us who seek it. I am glad to hear that you are now living with people who are more understanding of your interests, ignorant though they might be of them. I must say that I am struck by your optimism regarding the natural learning capabilities of the general population. I strongly agree with your statement, which I have quoted here because it means so much to me: “I think everyone could learn everything if they just knew how to read.” This is an opinion which I have always agreed with, and have been trying to convince many of my colleagues of for most of my long career. I am glad we are of the same mind in this area.

In answer to your question: Unfortunately, no one knows for sure if the moon is hot or cold. The prevailing theory currently is that it is cold. The reasoning here is that we are fairly certain it is made of stone, and stone is cold unless otherwise heated. In the absence of an internal heat source, we assume the moon is likely cold to the touch. However, we cannot know this for sure without knowing exactly what it is made of and how this material would be affected by the heat of our sun at its current level of exposure. Perhaps when you grow up, you will be able to figure this out for us.

I look forward to hearing your other questions when we meet, and I of course will be happy to share what I learned at my conference with you. If I am correctly understanding your schedule, I believe you will be in town again two Wednesdays from when this letter should reach you. I will be at the church from dawn to dusk on that day. The guard will know to let you and your family into the building, and we can discuss the possibility of further meetings then. Please give my best to your family, and I wish you the best until then.

Pastor Murphy,

The Whitecreek College of Natural Sciences

Hello Pastor Murphy,

I asked the man to wait for a minit so I can write a letter back and he said he would but I cant take forever he said so I wont. I am so excited to meet you in two weeks I am going to write all of my questins down. I am so excited to see your books I am so excited to learn. Cas said we can all come meet you together and then they will go do shoping and I can stay if thats ok or Dean can stay with me if you want. That is so intresting about the moon i didnt think about that thank you for explaneing. I will be so careful with your books if you let me take them home and I will read anything you say I should I will be good and learn fast and you will be happy you let me learn I promise I will be good and you will not regrat it. Thank you I am so excited sorry this is mesy and there are stains I am crying a lot. I would wait to write later but the man wants me to hurry up. I used to dig in the trash to find anything with words on it to read and Dean would let the man at the church do bad things to him so he could bring me pamflets sometimes. I said dont do that but he did anyway and I was always so happy to get them even tho I said dont do that. Which I felt bad about but I still read the pamflets. Anyway if you let me take lots of books home I will learn everything and I will read to Dean and Cas so they can lean too and I will be very happy. I am so excited thank you I will see you in two weeks.

p.s. i forgot to say. Cas’s dad died and now he runs the inn with Dean who is my friend.

-Sam

To: Sam Winchester, ten years old, of brown hair and brown eyes. Willow Inn, outside of Whitecreek.

Dear Sam,

I have sent the courier along once again with this letter. The suggested coursework I promised you is enclosed. I also again wanted to express how wonderful it was to meet you and your family, and how excited I am to have such a bright young man under my tutelage. Your questions were delightful, and I can only hope that I have answered them to your satisfaction.

Please do reiterate to your friend Dean that it was lovely to meet him as well, and that he will always be welcome in my church regardless of the content of his past.

I look forward to seeing you all again in person next month, and wish you the best until that time comes.

Pastor Murphy,

The Whitecreek College of Natural Sciences

Hello Pastor Murphy,

Thank you thank you thank you thank you thank you thank you thank you thank you thank you thank you thank you thank you thank you thank you thank you thank you!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Love,

Sam :)

[morwensteelsheen]

i woke up this morning like “i want to write a story justifying why éowyn would have dropped her virginity like a hot potato” and anyways 4,000 words later i am Not At That yet but i am getting a better sense for what i think her life would’ve been like. it’s below the cut in its unproofread state lol also a brief reference to what faramir was up to circa TA3011 because i can’t help myself

Until her twelfth birthday, Éowyn had never thought of herself as particularly more of a girl than a boy. She was addressed as a (young) lady when she wasn’t being addressed by her kin, and had certainly been forced into dresses and skirts — though this came perhaps a little later than it should have, if the judgemental looks from the various women of the court were anything to go by; but outside of those instances, there really hadn’t been much to differentiate her from her elder brother. She had learned to use a sword just as he had, she had been taught (with limited success) to speak several politically-important languages, and had been given as free a rein on Meduseld and Edoras as he had at her age. Those years, she would later realise, had been some of the easiest and most contented of her life, even if the dark cloud of their parents’ passings ever hung over her.

On her twelfth birthday, in a firestorm of misfortune, everything had changed. First, and entirely by coincidence, Éomer had received his first posting, in Captain Grimbold’s éored stationed in the Wold. For Éomer, it was nothing but excitement — at long last he would be able to take off out into the world just like Théodred and would finally get to define himself as a warrior and as a man. That he would be going quite far away from home only heightened the excitement. For Éowyn, who had always been closesr to her brother than anyone else, it was the end of an era, though in exactly how many ways she had not, in the moment, fully known.

Second, she had her first blood. It was not something anybody had warned her about and, in that manner which precocious children are wont to take up, she attempted to solve the problem without knowing quite what the problem was. Hiding in her chambers, hands and knees shaking somewhat at the sight of unexpected blood, she had changed into something thicker (and darker in colour), and bundled the soiled garments up in a spare bedsheet. What little she knew of such matters told her that to be caught bleeding must be a sign of some personal failing, and so must be handled in the utmost secrecy.

There was, she knew, a small fire burning in the western gardens that morning to clear fallen foliage from the previous week’s thunderstorms. With luck and a little careful manoeuvring, she imagined she would be able to sneak her secret bundle into the flames without arousing any suspicions.

Creeping through the halls of Meduseld (mercifully quiet owing to the ceremonial changing of the guard happening later that day), Éowyn had accidentally stumbled upon the third thing that would change her life forever.

Even to her young mind, he immediately seemed a man of contradiction. Undeniably young, but somehow carrying himself with the comportment of a man several decades older; the dark hair and shorter stature of a Dunlander, but the presence and language of a man of the Mark. At first, he had not noticed her — he was so diligently listening to the King that it seemed to her he might not have noticed if an entire éored had passed him by. But when, failing to mask herself fully behind a passing attendant, Éowyn had been spotted by her uncle, the man’s attention had fallen to her entirely.

He was impeccably behaved, granting her the courtesy of a deep bow — despite few ever humbling themselves before such a young girl — and spoke to her levelly (not, to her ears, taking notice of her youth). In the practice yard and on horseback, Éowyn was accustomed to being spoken to with little regard for her age, but rarely was such deference extended into the stricter social edifices of Meduseld.

By any stretch of the imagination, it should have tickled her pride to be spoken to as an equal, it had, of course, been something she had longed for ever since she had first mastered stringing words together into sentences. Something, however, unsettled her about the entire interaction, raising hairs on the back of her neck and forcing her shoulders back into a defensive posture. She told herself that it was a natural consequence of having been effectively caught attempting to bury evidence of a misdeed, and that had she not first met him while she was clutching a bedsheet hiding a bloodied shift, she might have had an entirely different opinion of him.

After she was dismissed and scampered out into the gardens, she was immediately caught by Ceolwenne, the daughter of one of the Lords of the Eastfold who had recently arrived at Edoras to be presented at court. Ceolwenne, who Éowyn had, until that moment, had very little time for, had taken one look at the bundled sheets and Éowyn’s ghost-white face and immediately pulled her into a hug. Together, they had thrown the bundle into the garden fire, and Ceolwenne had, in perhaps flightier language than Éowyn might have preferred, explained what that blood had meant and exactly what she should do to prepare herself in the future.

It should have been a tremendous relief to her to discover that it was not a sign of moral failure and to find that it was something that women could speak to other women about in relatively frank terms. Instead, and for reasons then entirely unexplainable to her, it filled her with a deep, abiding sense of dread.

Thereafter, the changes in her life came on gradually, some of them so slowly that she hardly noticed they had happened at all. The years passed and she grew up. At least two or three times a year, she bled, but now she knew what to expect (though that did not mean she found it any less unsettling). Éomer and Théodred were away for greater and greater stretches of time, and the man, who she now knew as Gríma, took on a greater and greater role in the Golden Hall.

At first, Éowyn had imagined that the duties bestowed upon her were duties given to account for Théodred’s absence — welcoming local and foreign dignitaries, maintaining the daily running of the household, and seeing to the needs of the King. But with these duties came certain infringements on the life she had come to enjoy. Gone were the comfortable linen dresses and loose hair of her childhood, replaced by elegant velvet gowns and coiled, braided updos; no longer could she practice for hours on end in the practice and tilt yards, not when, as Gríma took care to remind her, the household could not cope without a strong commander at its helm.

With the finer gowns and the increased hours spent indoors came a change in how people spoke to and looked at her. After years of hoping to be treated as an adult, she began to learn that what she had hoped for was to be treated as an adult man, not an adult woman. Adult men could sit in counsel with her King-uncle, and could drink until late at night and argue about the mechanics of war and glory. Adult women could not.

It was as much a sign of her becoming aware of herself as it was a sign that she was physically changing. Slowly, so slowly that she hardly noticed it if she didn’t think about it, her hips swelled and her breasts became heavier and more pronounced. Her face slimmed, her lashes lengthened and darkened, and hair grew on parts of her body that she had not expected it to grow. All of these things seemed to her to be things of little note — except, perhaps, as an occasional nuisance when gowns that had previously fitted her no longer did — but seemed of great consequence to the people around her.

The whispers of the women and men at court wriggled their way into her subconscious. Lascivious tales of noble women undone by pregnancies out of wedlock, peasant women trapped by Dunlenders and subjected to unimaginable acts of violence, and women who took so happily to the chore of sex that they freely took multiple partners — to the chagrin of the court. Without expecting it or inviting it, Éowyn soon learned that the mantle of womanhood that she was now inheriting was a heavy and burdensome load.

She was fourteen the first time she had recognised a man staring at her chest. He was a minor sergeant from just outside Aldburg, twenty-two years old, fairly handsome for so short a man, and loud-spoken with a riotous laugh. They had been standing opposite one another in conversation at the outlying perimeters of a celebratory dance when she had followed the line of his sight. When he realised she was aware of where his attention was turned to, he had smirked at her, then disappeared off to find the hand of another young girl for the next dance. Beside her, one of the fluttering twits who hovered around the court in search of a high-born husband leaned in to her and giggled, telling her in no uncertain terms that she should be honoured by the man’s interest in her body. She did try her best to be honoured, but the only emotion she could conjure within her was a vague sense of fury.

After that, she had taken to finishing her domestic duties as hastily as she could so she could slip out of her gowns and exhaust herself in the practice yard. The first few times she had done so, she had moved so speedily through her duties she began to trip up and make careless mistakes, which had resulted in Gríma keeping an ever-closer eye on her work. When mistakes were inevitably discovered, she found herself forced back into gowns for longer and longer periods of time, and being forced back into gowns meant being forced back under the sometimes-lewd gaze of men. These failures, she was told, were an abdication of her womanly duty to maintain a neat household. Thus, womanhood became inextricably bound up with restrictions on her liberty and the unsettling and unwelcomed notice of men.

Ceolwenne married Elfhelm on a cool spring day, a humble but pretty affair. They went away for a few short weeks, and when they returned, she had a wealth of stories to whisper to Éowyn. Ceolwenne, who had been far better prepared for a woman’s life than had Éowyn, seemed to have entered her marriage with a plethora of insecurities and expectations — most of which had turned out to be wrong. Even still, it was the first time Éowyn had heard that sex could be anything other than a wearisome duty to be endured.

When she was sixteen, Théodred’s èored briefly returned to Edoras for some ceremonial formalities. A young rider, at most three or four years her senior, watched her in the practice ring as she proved to her cousin all that she had learned in his absence. Théodred, with a small smirk, departed after just two rounds, leaving her alone with the man. He introduced himself as Alaric, a local boy under Théodred’s command. He was quick-witted and praised her combat skills, and she had been happy to have someone who wasn’t her kin speak admiringly of her ability to fight. He’d told her he had little experience with cleaning up in the royal stables, and that he needed advice on how to properly stack the saddles so as to avoid her cousin’s ire.

Because she was sixteen, and because she had so rarely been around men who didn’t see her desire to fight as a threat to their manhood, she convinced herself she believed that he needed help, and followed. Inside the stables, she made a valiant attempt at showing him the ropes, until he’d pinned her to the wall and kissed her breathless.

It was sloppy, bordering on bad (though then she had no basis on which to judge the quality of a kiss), and it surprised her. But he didn’t seem to mind that he was kissing somebody in breeches who reeked of horse, so she kissed him back until a stable boy interrupted them. When Théodred’s men left at the end of the week, she didn’t watch them leave, and she never again asked after him, though for many years afterwards she often thought of that day in the stables.

A few months later, her marriageability was first spoken of. Lord Boromir of Gondor, a steadfast and favourite friend of Théodred’s had momentarily passed through Edoras on an unofficial diplomatic errand. (After he had left, her uncle had made it clear that he thought Boromir had been sent by his supercilious father to sniff out weaknesses in the Mark.) Lord Boromir had very proudly admitted that he expected that his younger brother, a captain fighting at the far eastern reaches of Gondor, would soon announce his betrothal to the eldest daughter of some lord from the south of the kingdom. It was, he said, a remarkably politically-savvy match, certain to bring the more capricious southern fiefdoms back into line.

Gríma, invited but not desired at that dinner, had, as was his way in those days, managed to redirect the conversation towards the theory of marriage as a political tool, and how a more stringent application of that theory in Rohan (as was seen in Gondor) might come to the kingdom’s benefit. He had implied, though had stared her down while he spoke, that unwed women kin of the King ought to make themselves more available to men of good sense.

Éowyn, who had never before given much thought to marriage, except in passing recognition to the fact that she would likely one day have to marry, blanched at the notion that any future marriages of hers would be discussed so openly. But then it occurred to her, with the swiftness of a winter gale blustering through an open door, that she was, in fact, of a perfectly reasonable age to be thinking of marriage.

In a move that had endeared him to her immensely, Lord Boromir had pointed out that while he referred to his brother as “younger,” he was in fact eight and twenty years old, and his apparent intended was only a few years younger than that, and both had come about the arrangement after many years of unattached life in adulthood.

The door, however, had been kicked open, and the monster that dwelt within could not be so easily returned to its enclosure.

It seemed to her the most frustrating conversation in her life in the subsequent two years, and it seemed to her to occur at two levels. The more overt level was that of the occasional discussion of marriage candidates’ suitability. Men would come, from time to time, to seek out the hand of Lady Éowyn, and Lady Éowyn would, with ruthless efficiency, dismiss them. In this, she had an entirely unexpected ally in Gríma, who seemed to find fault in all of her suitors as quickly as she did, and was far less reserved in his dismissals.

The more subtle level was that of discussions of what would be expected of her after marriage. At first, the language had been amorphous: Théodred had been slow to marry, Éomer was far too pleased with his status as the effective “spare”, what would become of the line of Eorl? Who, asked those who dared ask aloud, would ensure the birth of an heir? In those years, Gríma became a master manipulator of conversations. Where compliments paid to Éowyn had once concerned her ability to uphold her duties, or her voice, or her ability to dance, soon they focussed on her youth, her femininity, and, for the bolder flatterers, the curve of her hips.

She reached an age where she took to working with the elder women of the court on the various tapestries and blankets and carpets that they wrought on their looms. Then, she learned that sex, despite for so many of them being a frustrating burden at worst and a bore at best, was a regular topic of conversation. In their conversations, she came to learn much she hadn’t before had a way to learn. There was a moment, she learned, in the midst of sex where people reached what the women referred to as a “crisis.” For men, this crisis was not only common, but nigh on mandatory, the ultimate and only goal of sex. For women, this crisis was uncommon, but certainly not unheard of, though often stumbled upon quite by accident. Despite their language, all of the women seemed to speak fondly of this crisis, as if it was something to be actively sought after. Having no experience of her own against which to measure her opinions, Éowyn merely accepted that this was the way things were, and that, even if it was a happy one, a crisis sounded like a level of instability she would rather not invite into her life.

Meanwhile, her uncle seemed to age ten years for every one that passed. Her duties became more numerous and more laborious. Stubbornly committed to her precious few minutes of freedom a day, she fought hard to preserve her few hours of swordplay a week, even if it came at the cost of sleep or eating. It was to her benefit and detriment that she placed such a high premium on that time; benefit, in that she never felt as if she couldn’t defend herself from physical harm if needs must, detriment in that it became Gríma’s easiest way to wrest control over her. She had to guard it jealously, had to take to keeping a dulled blade beneath her bed for the days in which she found all the practice blades mysteriously locked away, and had to implicitly enlist the help of the servants to cover her tracks.

More men came seeking her affection, and she sent them all away. Some men, the younger ones, the maverick officers, didn’t come looking for her hand in marriage, but to take their chances at cracking the Lady of Rohan’s stony exterior. It became a game of sorts amongst men in the know, winning her attention was a warrior’s challenge in its own right, akin to slaying a first — or tenth — orc. Whether she was oblivious to it or intensely obstinate the men never figured out, but either way, none ever had any success.

What to them was a game became a struggle for life and death for her. For each man that flirted with her or sent tokens of affection, Gríma tightened his grip further and further. Her uncle had been almost entirely unmanned, his thoughts so consumed by the looming conflict that the social troubles of his youngest ward bled into the background noise.

Gríma touched her for the first time a little while after her seventeenth birthday. It was a brisk spring morning, and she was scheduled to meet a minor lordling from the Gondorian province of Anórien. She had gone out to the veranda without a mantle and, after a single shiver, Gríma had disappeared back into the hall, only to return with a thin, dark cloak. Though she was loath to accept any gestures from him, she was already surrounded by far too many dignitaries of the Mark who could not be trusted with any sign of defiance from the representatives of the House of Eorl. So, she had tipped her head in assent when Gríma presented her with the mantle, and held her hair back as he stood before her and secured it around her through. To onlookers, it would have seemed as if the fastener on the cloak was particularly fussy, because it took him several long seconds to finally catch it through. To Éowyn, the seconds stretched like hours as Gríma brushed long, moist fingers across the hollow of her throat, over and over and over until finally she’d stiffened, and he seemed to be broken from his trance.

A month passed before he touched her again, and then it was only a hand against the small of her back as he passed her in the council room.

A few weeks after that, it was his fingers wrapping around her arm to escort her away from her exhausted King.

Orcs pushed further into Rohan, a worrying puzzle that panicked all those in Edoras who had any business of knowing. Her cousin spent more and more time riding between his detachment and Meduseld, and each time she saw him he seemed tauter, more bereft of good humour, and, unsurprisingly if frustratingly, less able to listen to her worries. Through no fault of his own, he could hardly notice that it was not just his father whose constitution was bowing under the burden of conflict, and failed entirely to notice that Éowyn had grown distant and jumped every time someone entered the room without fair warning.

Her change in mood did not go unnoticed by Gríma, who quickly used it to drive a wedge between her and her uncle. Théoden, who had also become increasingly paranoid, seemed convinced that his line would die out. It took some careful manoeuvring from Gríma, but in time her uncle believed that it was Éowyn’s reserved personality that most threatened the House of Eorl. She was instructed, in no uncertain terms, to have a more open temperament and to show more warmth to their guests and allies.

It went against every defence she had learned. If she were to be more open and inviting towards their guests (who were all, invariably, men) then she would be indirectly inviting Gríma’s jealousy. She had always tried to deny that that is what it came down to — he was twenty-one years her senior, had known her since she was barely into girlhood, it all seemed incomprehensible to her — but at this earliest of breaking points, it was almost impossible to deny.

For three years, there was a stalemate of sorts. It was not a receding of hostilities, so to speak, but there were no escalations either. She found that if she didn’t put up any resistance when his fingers slipped under the hem of her sleeves or he stopped so close to her side she could feel his breath on her face, then she wouldn’t lose time in the practice ring, and wouldn’t be cornered into emotionally devastating arguments with her uncle and liege-lord.

Men continued to call, though there were fewer as the conflict worsened at the borders of the Riddermark. A daughter of a lord of the Westfold came to Edoras, Edith was her name. She was beautiful and self-possessed, she laughed loudly and drank heartily, and charmed the entire court within hours of her arrival. She took many bewitched men to her bed without a hint of shame, and in so doing left no room for anyone to criticise her. Better to die of good sex out of wedlock, she told Éowyn, than of bad sex in wedlock.

Théoden’s condition worsened, and Gríma cast a wider and wider shadow across Meduseld. Éomer was made third Marshal of the Mark, and Théodred began to spend more time in Edoras. The condition in the Westfold became bleaker with each passing week, the Dunlendings now threatened harm greater than they had ever been empowered to do before.

&c. &c. &c.

[chimswae]

BTS Caretaker CH13

Summary: She may think she has Bangtan Sonyeondan wrapped around her fingers. She may think it is easy to love the members equally without hurting any soul. She may think the boys wont fall head over heels for her. She assumes it is okay to show a little love and affection towards the boys, what if she gets it all wrong? What if it only brings more complication to her already complicated life? Can she survive their charms? Will she be able to resist them? What if they just wont let her go?

- Pairing: BTS x Oc ( Yoongi x OC, Jungkook x OC)

- Genre: Fluff, Slight Angst, Romance, Idol!au

- Word Count: 3,604

- Author Note:Late update again hmm i was a little busy these days with work ;(  i appreciate your feedback and comment, just drop in my ASK BOX :)

Previous | Next

Chapter 13

“Who stole the cookies on the table?” Jin yelled in disbelief as he noticed the disappearance of the supposed to be Seul’s present. The culprit was among them and the only person who was capable of such thing as Kim Taehyung. At the end of the day, it would always be Taehyung.

Hope glanced over his shoulder “What cookies? I thought we have eaten it all” he reasoned with his eyes fixated on the screen.

“The cookies in the small pink box” Jin scowled.

“Ah, I saw it this morning but didn’t open it. Ask Kookie, he was the last one in the kitchen not long ago” Jungkook flinched in his seat with a disapproval look.

He retorted sarcastically “I might be the last one but I am not the culprit.” Hoseok snickered with a small shrug teasing the younger guy.

“Who was it for again?” Hoseok inquired.

“No one”

“Lies. It is for the caretaker agashi, Seul” Namjoon shows up with a messy bed hair, while yawning loudly in process. To hear Seul’s name, Yoongi’s ears perked up showing his interest. He tried not to be too obvious, it was even more confusing for him.

Jimin mumbled under his breath in his usual cutesy tone “Why are you giving the cookies to Seul?” he looked over only to witness Jin’s red face. This was something new to see, Jin getting flustered over a simple question, what exactly happened? Does he have any feelings for Seul?

“It is not for Seul! Don’t listen to Joon!” he sent a death glare at Namjoon’s way, but the latter only rolled his eyes in response. He knew what he saw on the table, Namjoon peeked at the notes too so no matter how hard Jin tried to deny the truth, he wouldn’t trust him.

“But, you packed it so nicely? Is it for Moonbyul-ssi?” he raised his eyebrows.

Jin frowned not liking where this will lead him, one after another now he was dragging his fellow 92-liner friend in the conversation “Moonbyul is just a friend. My best friend. Stop speculating” he pressed.

“Mamamoo’s Moonbyul is single though. She is cool. I approve her” Namjoon joked earning another dangerous glare from the older guy. His laughter died down as he raised both of his arm “I am joking. Chill” he snickered.

“Then is it for Seul?” Jimin continued to get the answer from Jin, he showed no sign of retreat. With heavy heart, Jin nodded slowly while biting his lower lips “Why?” he heard the younger guy mumbled with a hint of confusion and annoyance.

“Because she kind of helped me that night, so as a token of appreciation, I baked her cookies. Gosh, why are you asking me this?”

“Just because….”

“What?”

“………”

“Jimin… do you like her?” asked Hoseok. He tore his eyes from the screen and stared at Jimin’s way with a baffled look. Jimin’s eyes shot open, “W-hat no.. I am just curious?” he defended himself. It was not a time to appear weak and suspicious. Not  that he likes her that way, but what he was trying to indicate here was, he might like her that way. That was so messed up.

“But you sound defensive” Namjoon chewed the green apple in his hand with a playful smirk. Mister always grumpy Min Yoongi now was on his feet, getting ready to leave the living room, he did not know why he felt so affected by this.

“Why are we talking about her? She is just a fucking stalker” he marched to his room leaving everyone in dazed.

Jin rubbed his temple with a heavy sigh “Did Min Yoongi just curse? I swear I will fucking kill him one day” he exclaimed.

“Hyung, you just cursed too” said the maknae.

“Gosh, this is annoying. Okay, who is responsible of the missing cookies again?!” he stopped rambling when he saw the only missing member in the earlier conversation walked towards his direction with wide grin. Jin swore to god, he saw a tiny piece of cookies at the corner of Taehyung’s mouth as an evidence of his bad deed. So, he was the culprit all along as he expected.

Taehyung became wary of the stares that he received from the floor at the moment. He ducked his head to avoid Namjoon’s small jab and went straight to Jin “Why is it so tense?” tilting his head innocently, Taehyung pursed his lips.

“Someone stole the cookies on the table” he said flatly.

“Oh that cookie! It was not stolen, I ate them!”

“KIM TAEHYUNG!”

Taehyung was jittering at Jin’s sudden hollered which almost cost hearing lost “What the hell hyung! Why are you screaming in my ears?” he rubbed his ear with a slight pout.

Jin gaped at his action while calming down his aching nerves, if he were to smack someone tonight it would be either him or Park Jimin. These 95-liner best friend are real troublemakers, what a pain to his head.

There goes his effort in preparing small gift for Seul. He had to find another way to say thank you then, thanks to Kim Taehyung.

 --------------------------

Following their winning from Melon Music Awards two weeks ago, the boys swept another daesang award in Mnet Music Awards later the following month. It was an emotional night for all of them even for Min Yoongi whom seemed to play it cool, he broke down on stage without he realized. It became a talk of whole country due to Yoongi’s legendary cries. Everyone has suffered a lot during their debut days, to win something grand was no exception in giving them this roller coaster feelings.

Seul watched the award show together with her mother and Hoon just because the two are the biggest Bangtan’s fans in the century. In contrary, her mother’s affection towards the boys are more like a mother and son feeling. For once, Seul did not blame her mother to bawl her eyes together with Bangtan as soon as their name was announced as the winner of Artist of the Year award.

Mrs Hwang watched how the boys grow from boys to men, she fed them, cleaned their place and sometimes she would give a good motherly advice. The boys and Mrs Hwang usually exchanged notes whenever they needed an opinion from a mother figure like Mrs Hwang. Under certain circumstances, there were time the boys requested to meet her personally, but she did not want to disobey the company’s rules, so they have never met.

Seul watched the television screen diligently how the group was taken aback by the announcement and how Jimin immediately slouched on the seat while palming his face, he looked adorable in her eyes. For the first time in her life, she saw how they exchanged a genuine smile as everyone gathered for a big group hug.

The leader of the group was seen to be holding back himself, not trying to break down as the members were looking as dazed as him. He was the leader, so he had to stand on his feet with pride. A small smile appeared across Seul’s face upon seeing how Yoongi and Jimin were the last member to walk after others. He had to drag surprise Jimin together with him, throwing his arm around the younger guy so they could receive the award.

She wondered it must be one hell of ride for everyone.

“Aigoo.. aigoo.. look at jiminie and yoongi fooling around on stage even before they received the awards” she heard her mother chuckled softly.

Hoon grinned “Jimin hyung still can’t believe they won the award! Look at his face!” he clasped his hand together and to Seul’s annoyance, she really hated it when Hoon tried to sound super friendly addressing the boys with hyung.

Seul’s eyes moved to Taehyung as he was the one who lead the group along with Namjoon walking casually beside him. Her heart softens to see Taehyung’s expression which was in between of breaking down into ugly sobs or smiled away like he always did. It was amusing how Taehyung looked so lost in between his walk to the award presenter, as if his heart chanted something ‘We did it. We did it. Is it us’ like a mantra? His face really gave away that feeling.

Finally, everyone had reached to the centre of the stage as Namjoon took a moment to compose himself. As usual, the pressure would be on the leader’s shoulder. He needed a moment to say something whilst others scanned the area with a satisfied smile.

Namjoon leaned forward with a heavy sigh, his heart was pounding madly as if it would come out by anytime soon. Seul shifted in her seat fixing her gaze on the nervous guy in the screen. She had never seen any of awards show with Bangtan in it, since this is her first time, Seul was intrigued to know Namjoon.

While Namjoon tried to gather his thought together, Yoongi’s small action caught Seul attention. He was clapping hard following the audiences most probably he wanted to get rid of the nervousness that slowly eating him up. Yoongi was about to cry, she knew it. She could see the glistening of tears in his eyes even the sunshine ball Hoseok who stood calmly beside him, was chewing his lower lips to not let himself dwell in the emotion.

Namjoon blinked his tears and he finally said a word “Army…” Seul glanced over her mother whom had started crying her heart out. How touching wasn’t it?

“Thank you so much. Seriously… we went through a lot since we debuted and there were people who said we would not make it” he continued with a shaky voice. Her heart clenched in pain, she blinked in sheer surprised. Who were those horrible people that belittled their talents and efforts? Shame on those people.

When the screen changed to reveal other members expression whilst Namjoon continued his speech, Jungkook was seen to already shed tears while Jimin as usual keep his stare fix at that one man, Kim Namjoon with so much adoration and love.

“Thank you so much for believing in us until the end”

Stood beautifully in between Jimin and Taehyung looking all sombre and distressed was Jin, the same guy that she found at the corner of a dark room few weeks ago when they received their first daesang. Seul’s bit her nails occasionally studying Jin’s calm expression. She could tell he was not as calm as he appeared, Jin was in a deep thought. Would it be a good thing?

Just please don’t belittle of yourself again Kim Seokjin. Seul prayed earnestly, concerned with his insecurity.

“This is something we only dreamt about so thank you for making our dream a reality. I would like to thank Bang Shi Hyuk Pd, the executives of Big Hit Entertainment who led us on. And people who make good music with us, Pdogg, Rabbit hyungs and Supreme Boi. And our Teacher Sung Deuk and the staff”

BAM! A rush of sadness gushed inside Seul, he was crying. Kim Seokjin was shedding his tears again and it somewhat pained her. Why was she acting this way? It was only a onetime thing when she witnessed Jin’s most fragile state. Yet to be affected this much was so wrong.

Jin slowly nodded to every Namjoon’s words and letting his tears cascaded down beautifully “Thank you to all the staff who have been with us. Thank you so much for making our dreams a reality. And .. Armys all over the world, lets fly with our beautiful wings in 2017 as well” Namjoon breathed deeply as he was struggling between the overwhelming emotion that he felt right now and to give a good ending speech.

“Poor baby kook, I want to give him a hug” Mrs Hwang heaved a heavy sigh. “That kid was the purest of all, he cried a lot during their earlier debut days. My heart breaks to see him crying like this” she sniffed.

“BTS loves Armys always. Thank you very much”

“Mother look over there, Yoongi hyung is crying so hard at that side!” Hoon gasped dramatically. Was it rare to see Yoongi cried? Yes.

“When Yoongi cried meaning this thing meant the world to him. He is man with of few words, a great guy to all he met”

“Thank you. I love You. I hope our music and our performance can be your dreams as well. I hope that our stage and our performances and our music can be the hopes and dreams of the world. Thank you very much. We’ll do our best! Thank you”

Namjoon’s voice started to fade away in Seul’s mind, and her attention was now fully on the small guy who sobbed hard beside Namjoon. The playful and flirty side of Yoongi just disappeared instantly, he looked so vulnerable and fragile. Something that she couldn’t usually see anywhere. She clutched the armrest steadying her heavy breathing ‘Min Yoongi, just what are you?’ Seul found herself getting shaky over him.

Will he be alright? Seul could not stop but to think about the rest of the members especially Yoongi. Was she being too hard on him before and jumped into conclusion without knowing his true side? However, they are not in that kind of relationship which required her to super nice towards him.

This was too much for her again.

 ------------------

Meanwhile in Hong Kong, the boys were all gathered in one room, sitting on the couch with a hard face. None of them uttered any words ever since they arrived in their hotel room. They were no longer in their fancy award outfits but only plain white shirt underneath it.

Their eyes were puffy after a long and hard crying at the backstage as soon as they were away from prying eyes. In between these four concrete walls, everyone was silenced only heavy breathing could be heard. Their managers had left earlier to give space for the boys to recuperate the situation.

“Wow, this is one hell of a night” calm Hoseok broke the silence garnering everyone’s attention back to the floor.

Jimin lips twisted upwards as he spoke “Yoongi hyung, I have never seen you cried that hard. Was it real?” he pondered.

His sudden questions turned Yoongi into ripe tomatoes, he stammered between his words “Yah, forget about that.. I was caught off guard.. and I just cried” Yoongi ran his hand at the back of his neck, massaging it softly.

“It is alright to cry sometimes” Namjoon gave his hyung a light pat with a wide smile.

The room fell into dead silence again for umpteenth time. There were so many things ran into their mind right now and it was hard to bring it out one by one. Frustrated, everyone heaved a sync groan under their breath which turned into a light chuckle afterwards.

“I guess this is it” the leader whispered lowly enough for everyone to hear.

“We did it..” he scanned each of the members face with a stupidly proud grin that never left his face ever since the award show ended.

Jin leaned on his seat, crossing his legs “We did it..again” he smiled genuinely easing the tense atmosphere in the room moments ago. Within a second, the room became lively with loud chattered from every corner reminiscing their good old times together. The boys talked a lot of things from how they started this whole journey until where they achieved so far.

The night was spent with their mini celebration in the small room, exchanging stories and even ideas on how they should improve themselves in the next comeback. It has been a great pleasure for all of them to serve as one of Bangtan’s members and they will never be tired become one.

This will be the start of their new year resolution, just like Namjoon stressed in his speech earlier, “Let’s fly with our beautiful Wings as well in 2017”. They are living to this word, there is no turning back now.

Bangtan Sonyeondan will spread their wings wide to spread love and hope all over the world.

 ----------------

3 AM. She was awoken up by the vibration of her phone. Groggily, Seul picked up the call without even looking at the screen. Her mind and body were too tired to even force out words coming from her mouth.

She pressed the phone on her ears as she continued to snuggle under her warm blanket. Who on earth called her at 3 in the morning?

“ Hey.. Is this Ji Seul”

“Speaking” she mumbled under her breath with a hint of annoyance.

“Are you sleeping?” the person at the end of the line held back his chuckle trying not to show his amusement over Seul’s cuteness.

Seul scoffed sleepily “What kind of question is that? Obviously, since it is 3 AM”

“Oh, sorry for bothering you.” he mumbled with a pout. Seul was too drowsy to decipher the owner of the voice so she wanted to inquire more and ended this phone call, but she heard his soft voice hummed incoherently.

She squeezed her eyes trying to stay awake at least, “This is Jin…” upon listening to that one name, Seul’s eyes widened. Was she dreaming? Was this a prank pulled by stupid people?

“How did you get my number?” she bewildered.

“I have my ways and it involves urm.. your mother”

“Crazy…” Seul rubbed her eyes with a soft yawn. “Okay what do you want Jin-ssi” she grumbled.

Jin sighed softly “Nothing, just wanted to hear your voice” he confessed sweetly causing her to shudder under his manly yet soft voice. It took Seul a moment to gather her sense back afraid that she might blurt out some nonsense.

“So…congratulations” she softly hummed.

“You watched it?” Jin’s pitch hiked up to one octave but he immediately lowered his voice since others were already asleep. Another soft hum coming from Seul was enough to answer to his excitement.

“I thought you are not a fan” he smug.

Seul rolled her eyes “But I am a good citizen supporting our local’s music” he chuckled softly at her randomness. “So, are you alright?” she said worriedly. It touched his heart to receive even a simple attention from someone like Seul. To this extent, he didn’t realize how much he craved for a normal life by simply having a companion with him that can share every nook and cranny of his worries with the person.

“Are you asking onstage Jin, or the Kim Seokjin?”

“Both..you cried pretty hard last night and it is ugly” she sassed.

“Hey, everyone said my tears could literally create world peace! It is not ugly Ji Seul-ssi” he sulks. Seul giggled at his absurdity, speaking of high level of confidence, Jin had his own level. Seul was not surprised at all.

Jin loved her small laughter to the core, it washed away the worries engulfed in him. That was the reason why he begged for the caretaker ahjumma’s phone number from their managers. Thankfully, they didn’t question him further, so they gave it away without an exchange of anything. Once he obtained the way to contact the caretaker lady, he immediately secured Seul’s contact without much hassle.

Guess, it was his lucky day.

“I love your laughter”

Seul fell into silence and she shifted shyly under her cover as if Jin was there in front of her. Giving her no chance to respond, Jin whispered “And.. to answer your question. On stage Jin and the Kim Seokjin are doing fine. I think your words of advice still linger in my head” he murmured.

“I am glad you are not crying at the corner again”

“Were you worried that I might urm.. be having that moment again?”

“Kind of”

Jin softened “Thank you Seul-ah” he dropped the formality between them which taken her off guard.

“What happen to Ji Seul-ssi?” she bit her lower lips nervously.

“I think it only makes sense if you call me oppa. How old are you?” he reasoned.

“I am 22.. We are not that close to address each other so informally. I don’t think I can call you oppa” she blushed furiously. Seul too did not think she could survive a day with this thought of calling Jin an oppa out of sudden. Wouldn’t that be too intimate?

“Ah...Jims and Tae age. Why can’t you? Let’s be closed from now on, so you can address me oppa”

“You are as annoying as Yoongi. Persistence as hell” she let out an exhaust sigh. Jin took the cue to end the call, he could sense Seul’s voice started to fade away “Let’s talk about this again when we meet again later” he suggested.

“Who says I am meeting you again. That time will be the first and the last one” she yawned without shame. Screw it, not that she had to impress Jin with anything. She didn’t care of her own image.

Jin let out a soft chuckle “We will see about that. Go sleep, and I will see you soon. Good night Seul” he hung up before the girl could say anything because he knew it won’t be beautiful. Seul’s mouth is just as nasty as Yoongi and hell it stung one’s hear like bee sting. That did not rhyme at all.

Throwing his exhausted body on the bed, he smiled to himself “I will see you again for sure, Seul” he shut his eyes preparing himself to sleep.

This work belongs to  Chimswae © 2020. All Rights Reserved.

[nonsensicalobsessions]

Lucky

When Tom stopped to reflect on his life, he was always keenly aware on how very blessed, how very lucky, he really was.

There were all the obvious reasons: Dumb, stupid, genetic chance gave him health, a level of physical attractiveness he did nothing to earn, a brain to give him a jump start for intelligence and an ability to learn. Affluent parents who could and did provide every advantage, such as a beautiful home in a safe neighborhood, as well as the opportunity to attend the most prestigious schools in the area, and then the world. Drawing breath in a place and period of time where clean water, relative peace, plentiful food, and quality medical care were all readily available to him (although those were also due to his parents, he was aware of as well).

But there were other things...meeting the right people, at the right time...the right roles...

Of course, not everything was luck. He didn’t discount his hard work. No one would argue he was one of the hardest working actors in the industry. 

The one area where his luck soured was his love life. Friends he had in abundance, but between his intense desire for intimacy, rather than random, casual hookups, and for private, meaningful conversations as opposed to shop gossip and small talk, he found himself without a partner for months, even, God help him, years at a stretch. He was embarrassed to admit how lonely he found himself at times. He longed for what seemed like the most common thing in the world, love with someone who would see him as he was, not as how he was packaged and presented. At times, he wondered if he was simply fated to remain caught in a solitary existence.

And then, just like that, his luck changed, even as it preserved him once again.

Tom was driving home from holiday shopping. Carefully, as was his wont. As usual, it was raining and the traffic was as thick as could be expected for a Saturday leading up to Christmas. He was stopped at a traffic light, the second car in queue. He played with the music on his phone, until he found the song he was looking for, and smiled as he selected it. 

https://open.spotify.com/track/2IuUMx3uxxJAHcH41aYtn0?si=j7EFmnjuSUqGpb_6LPIGBg

The light changed. The car in front of him paused for a moment, then proceeded to resume its route, and Tom did the same. He was humming “Winter Wonderland,” tapping lightly on the steering wheel, when something terrifying happened.

There was a loud screeching of tires, horns, the squeal of brakes, and in front of his horrified eyes the car in front of him was plowed into as another vehicle attempted to run the red. The culprit wasn’t even close to clearing the intersection in time.

If Tom had been the first car in the queue, he would have been struck, it was unavoidable. 

With the slickness of the roads, there was quickly a massive chain reaction of collisions. It was only by very good fortune Tom escaped unscathed.

As soon as the screeches, the slams, the crunches, and the crashes stopped, Tom left his car and raced for the innocent’s vehicle. He had already dialed 999.

There had only been one person in the car, a female driver, as far as he could tell. All of her air bags had deployed, and she had been struck on the passenger side, which was the only saving grace in the situation. She was crumpled over the steering wheel, pinned between the slowly deflating air bags and what was left of the passenger side of her vehicle. It was quite the grisly scene, with shattered glass all about, horns blaring, and yet she made no sound. Tom frantically pulled the door, already fearing it to be futile as all car doors in his experience locked once the vehicles began moving.

To his utter shock, it opened. The car was an either older model than he anticipated, or else the locks malfunctioned.

He reached for her pulse in her neck and found it quickly enough, even as she was bleeding heavily from under her hair as well as from other cuts and abrasions. Soon she was moaning and beginning to stir.

“Steady,” Tom pleaded. “Don’t move. You’ve been in a crash, and an ambulance is coming. Can you tell me your name?”

“Maddie,” she whispered. “Madeleine Robillard...”

“Maddie, my name is Tom. Whom may I call for you?”

“No one,” she groaned.

Tom blinked, even as he could hear sirens growing louder. No one? That couldn’t be right, certainly there was a family member or a friend to be notified...

“No, there isn’t anyone, just me...” Maddie mumbled, and Tom realized he must have spoken aloud.

Maddie was fighting to keep her eyes open and focused. She looked around Tom’s age, but tiny to his eyes. “Tom...I can’t move, I’m stuck...” He could hear her voice becoming frightened.

“Maddie, don’t even try to move, you’re wedged in with your air bags and your seatbelt has you locked in tight and proper, just as it should. I am going to stay with you while you wait for help to arrive. You’re not alone, understand? I promise you.” He smiled at her, and stroked her cheek.

She blinked as a tear trickled down her cheek, obviously in a great deal of pain and disoriented. “I’m going to be late for work.”

“Maddie, I’m certain your employer will understand.”

“No...already so short staffed...” she was becoming agitated again.

“Hush, darling, hush...where do you work? Tell me, and I’ll ring them for you...”

Within what felt like a blink of an eye, there were ambulances, police cars, and fire trucks pulling in, even helicopters circling overhead looking for places to touch down. Tom could scarcely hear Maddie’s reply as she named a luxury hotel and spa not far from their location.

Tom dialed and asked for Madeleine Robillard’s supervisor, plugging his other ear with one finger as he did so, the ambient volume increasing every moment.

“This is Madame White, with whom am I speaking?” Tom flinched, the voice did not sound friendly, or helpful.

“Madame White, my name is Tom Hiddleston, and I am calling on behalf of Madeleine Robillard. I’m afraid she has been in a terrible car accident, and...”

“Young man, I don’t know what you think you are playing at, but I am far too busy to be playing games. Maddie is due to cross over the threshold of this facility in precisely thirteen minutes. If she does not do so in thirteen minutes and one second, why, she does not need trouble herself to do so in thirteen minutes and two.”

“I beg your pardon.” Tom’s voice was suddenly glacial, proper, and distinctive. “My name is...”

There was a loud sigh. “Spare me the impersonations. Her final check is in the mail.”

A click. A tone. And Tom was left staring at his phone in utter disbelief.

“And Happy Christmas, you utter...”

It was the first time he was told his impersonation of himself wasn’t convincing enough.

“...Mr. Hiddleston?!”

Tom found himself facing a completely shocked set of first responders.

“Hello, yes...this is Madeleine Robillard...”

And so, because of his good luck, Tom was spared a potentially devastating collision, and met Madeleine Robillard in the bargain.

Maddie knew it was pointless to grouse about luck, good, bad, or otherwise.

“It is, what it is,” she would shrug, and try to keep going as best she could.

Born on the wrong side of the blanket. The wrong side of the tracks. The wrong side of town.

She did the best she could, with what she had. Bounced from foster family to foster family, she learned quickly doors didn’t lock or latch even when they looked like they would, so it was best to wedge them tightly closed with blankets or books. If something looked like it was too good to be true, it never was. If someone gave you the creeps, it was for good reason. The best thing you could do was keep your nose clean and powder dry (but never use the stuff for the nose), keep your head down, do your best, and keep out of sight. Getting yourself noticed never ended well. Shoes don’t stretch, men don’t change, and in this life, you’re on your own.

She got through school well enough, then started working. She was a hard worker, and an unobtrusively clever one, because she didn’t want to be seen as clever. Being smart wasn’t something she saw rewarded. It was fine to be smart, and clever, but it was best to keep it to yourself.

She lived small. Saved her pounds. Lived quietly.

Sometimes she looked over the edges of bridges and wondered what kept her from sailing over the sides, what was it was all for, but kept going anyway. Low spirits did not stay with her long because she had curiosity to help keep her going. There was always another book to read, another idea she wanted to chase down in her head.

There were a few times she was loved and left.

She read at the library. She fully recognized novels as fairy tales for adults. She didn’t watch television or go to movies because couldn’t afford them. She stayed healthy enough because of the NHS. She listened to music on the radio. She was computer literate because of schooling and the library. She enjoyed sketching. Sometimes she would go to the library and watch videos on YouTube to improve her way around a pencil. She particularly liked sketching birds. To each their own.

She was kind, because it was how she wanted to be. She treated the people she worked with, worked for, and lived around, the way she wished to be treated, whether she was or not.

She was so proud when was able to buy her used car. Between her savings, her hard work ethic, and innate gentle nature, she was able to build up enough recommendations to get hired on at the spa at the grand new hotel as a receptionist. She was willing to take on as many hours, as many shifts, as possible. Madame White didn’t seem to like her very much, but there was no rule saying she had to. If the woman was spiteful, what of it? She juggled schedules, demanding clients, availability of staff with requested services, made certain all supplies were fully stocked, and more, all while answering the phone and greeting everyone with a smile.

And now, because of an entitled tit of a driver with a problem with the bottle, her car was gone, her job was gone, and soon her savings would be gone. Her health had certainly taken a hit.

But this Tom fellow was very kind, definitely handsome, and apparently a very big deal. For some reason, he was determined to stay with her. He stuck to her like a burr before the ambulance arrived, followed her to the A&E, sat with her throughout all the confusion and fuss there. He found her uncomplaining and patient. She found him gentle, and a surprisingly staunch advocate. 

Even after her surgery, he would stop by and visit. He was surprised she had required the procedure, had undergone it without a word to himself or anyone, but then, how would she have contacted him? Why would she? By then even she knew what he was all about, at least in theory, and she was as confused as ever. The staff in the hospital was very quick to educate her about how very lucky she was, and how out of her league he was.

Every day, he came to see her, bringing her some small token, a gift to make her smile. One day it was several pairs of soft, thick socks when he saw she was still wearing the ones she had from the day of the accident, because her feet were cold. They felt like spun sunlight. 

Another day, it was a collection of poems, after she had confessed her love of poetry rather than novels when she was tired or stressed, because “a gifted poet can say in just a few stanzas what a gifted novelist needs pages to accomplish...I don’t have the concentration to read pages and pages right now, but those few stanzas...they stay with me for hours.”

He presented the anthology to her only after making her promise she would not stay awake pondering. Maddie was laughing as she did, and Tom neatly plucked the volume from her hands.

“I am altogether serious,” he gravely informed her. “I can tell you are quite tired, and it is a known fact you heal while you sleep. I will not be responsible for impeding your recovery.”

She had to solemnly assure him she would not deliberately remain alert at night, pondering verses when she should be asleep. Looking at her with a serious face, Tom returned the book, and with a sober tone of voice, said, “I’m trusting you, Maddie.”

Maddie would sooner rob a church’s poor box than let Tom down. Not after he looked at her with such an intense expression, and used that tone of voice. She suspected he knew it, too.

But as much as the little presents were amazing, a novelty she couldn’t get over (certainly the first gifts she had received in a very long time), it was Tom’s presence she cherished more than anything he handed her in a gift bag or wrapped (albeit slightly clumsily) in cheerful paper. Although she lacked his level of formal education, and what she had received certainly wasn’t of the same caliber, Maddie was a keen scholar of human nature, as well of the school of hard knocks. She kept that alma mater to herself, but it made her observations on human nature very interesting to Tom, especially when it came paired with her intrinsic kindness and character. They spent hours talking about books they had read, Tom sharing stories about his childhood and amusing anecdotes about his day. Maddie did not have anything similar to reciprocate, so she would deflect and ask him a general question that would not be considered too personal. Listening to Tom share his reflections, being able to explore his thoughts, laughing with his quirky sense of humor...she had never enjoyed anyone’s company so much in her entire life. Just a few hours in the evenings were making such a huge impression on her.

But it couldn’t continue. Maddie lived in the real world, and although she enjoyed his visits immensely, she could also see where she was getting very attached to them, and him. With each successive call, it would be even more of a wrench when they stopped. It would be best to rip off the bandaid, as it were.

By December 23, enough was enough.

She was drifting in and out. Between pain medication and exhaustion from physical therapy, it was easier to sleep sometimes. Better. She didn’t want to think about how she was likely to lose her flat. She was unemployed (although on the dole, likely to receive compensation from the drunken ass responsible for this utter disaster, and possibly for wrongful termination). 

“Depression” wasn’t a word in her lexicon. Again, she just took life as it came. If life sucked, well, it just sucked, and what else could you do about it? Right now, there wasn’t a lot she could change. She did as she was told. She ate as best she could, although she couldn’t stomach much. She worked as hard as she could to regain her strength, because it wasn’t as though there was anyone who was going to take care of her. When she was discharged, she would have to make sure she could shift for herself.

Sleep was an escape she had best take advantage of while she had the opportunity.

“Darling? Asleep already, are you so exhausted then? You’re doing too much!”

Ah. Well and good. She needed to take care of this, anyway.

She opened her eyes to see Tom, standing there smiling at her even as his voice sounded concerned. It would be a shame to send such a handsome man on his way, because God knows she’d never meet anyone so finely and perfectly created ever again. He was a walking ray of sunshine. Truly a good man. 

She was going to miss him, with all of her heart.

“Tom.” She smiled as best she could, and tried to sit up.

“No, no, enough of that,” he scolded, and showed her the bed remote once more. “Why must you always try to do all the work when all you have to do is press a button?” He helped her raise the bed to ease her into a sitting position. “How are you feeling, sweetheart? Are they talking about sending you home soon?”

She dropped her eyes, flushing a bit. “Soon,” she evaded. “It’s lovely of you to come and visit me Tom...soon you won’t have to be fussed with coming all this way...in fact, I am sure you must have so many things you could be doing instead. Loads of parties and get togethers, I keep telling you, please don’t feel obligated to keep coming here day after day.”

Tom’s eyes narrowed. “And I keep telling you I am doing nothing from obligation, and everything from pleasure. Why can’t you understand I wish to spend time with you? Unless...” his face changed expression, “you no longer wish for me to come visit you...?”

Maddie’s face morphed into complete shock.

“Nothing could be farther from the truth. It’s...I didn’t know before, you see. But they’ve told me, I get it now. Come, Tom, I know how the world works. It’s Christmas, on top of everything else. You should be with family, and your friends. You don’t have to...well...” Maddie’s face was a study in discomfort. “I am deeply appreciative. Truly, I don’t want you to think I am ungrateful. It’s because I am so aware of how busy you are and how precious your time is...You’ve been coming here, every single day, and each time, you have a little gift for me. I’ve never been treated such, in all my life. You don’t need to keep doing this. Thank you, Tom, but you can enjoy your holiday now, with a clear conscience. It’s quite all right. You don’t have to do this anymore.”

“Wait...just a moment. Who told you what, exactly? Has someone told you I visit you out of some misguided sense of pity? As a...visiting the sick charitable work? A Christmas giving back?” His face was livid. “Who is telling you these lies? Point me in the right direction...!”

Tom had just started to get a good rant going, but stopped the moment he saw tears shimmering on her lashes. “Oh, no. No, no, no...please, Maddie, don’t cry...it’s not true. I promise you, it’s nothing like that.” He quickly dropped the side rail to gather her carefully into his arms for the first time. Up until now, he had only ever held her hand.

“I didn’t know anything about you the first time I saw you,” Maddie wept. “I don’t go to movies, plays, or watch television. I just read. So everyone so quick to say how lucky I was...and how you were so...so...” Tom could not help but notice how she did not melt into his embrace, but rather had her arms wrapped around herself as best she could, before he even had the chance to try comforting her. He recognized it for what it was: the hallmark of someone who only had their own arms to hold them when things were bad. He softly rubbed her back.

“Maddie, what happened to you that day was the very opposite of luck,” Tom answered grimly. “And anyone who said otherwise is disgusting. I will go so far as to say you are lucky to be alive...lucky you weren’t injured more severely! But beyond that? How could anyone be so crass as to say you were lucky that day just...” he shook his head, appalled.

“If anyone was lucky was day, it was I. I wish I never had to meet you in such a fashion, but in a city of almost nine million people, it was my car you were in front of that day. I was the one that was able to hold your hand. I was the one who could brush the hair out of your eyes and wait with you...and now, I am the one who gets to visit you every day, and who hopes to bring you home before Christmas.”

“Bring me home?”

“Darling, I don’t want to discourage you, but you are going to need a lot of care when you are finally discharged...and well...I...I know this is terribly forward of me, seeing as we’ve only known each other a few weeks...but as you’ve mentioned you’re rather alone in the world, I was hoping you’d consider staying with me for awhile. Just until you’re back on your feet again,” he concluded in a rush.

Maddie looked at him, rather exasperated.

“You see? Tom, you cannot do this! You are...you! I am a barely educated, unemployed receptionist. An orphan. I have nothing. I am no one...Tom...what would your mother say?!”

Tom threw his head back and laughed, delighted as she sputtered with indignation.

“See, this is exactly why I can and will do this. Because you do care about what my mother will say...and Madeleine Robillard, I will have you know you are indeed someone. You are someone who reads poetry and thinks about it all day long, even as she goes though physical therapy to regain her strength after a horrible car accident...someone who can sit and debate with me how social media and texting has impacted people’s ability to actually speak to one another...”

“That was just my personal observation...” Maddie mumbled.

“Yes! You notice things no one else does, sweetheart. You pay attention in a world where everyone else is content to just sit back and wait for information to come to them...you observe. You are honest...when you met me, you had no idea who this lanky goofball was...”

“Not a lanky goofball...a thoughtful, considerate, very handsome man who paid more attention to my well-being than any other man ever has in my life,” Maddie corrected him, picking at one of her many healing abrasions. 

Tom stopped her scratching without even looking. “As I said, so many people are just sitting back, passively waiting to be told what is important, what is attractive...and you are flying high and away over them, darling. The men of London must all be blind fools.” Slowly, he picked up her hand, and brought it to his lips. “I love listening to your thoughts. I wish you’d share more of yourself with me.”

“Tom...there’s not much to tell. I don’t have a gilded background, in fact, it’s fairly a grim story. I used to think if I had any luck at all, it was bad luck...but then, on the very worst day of my life...I met you. So, maybe, just maybe, my luck is turning? If you don’t mind coming to see me, or calling me, every now and again? Because I admit...I would miss you, if you were to just...stop.” Maddie looked down in embarrassment. 

He guided her chin up so she could see the bright smile beaming from his face. “Madeleine, I think you can safely say both of our luck has turned for the better. I promise you, I have no intention of walking away from anyone that makes me smile the way you do.”

Maddie could not be discharged in time for Christmas. Tom was very disappointed when he learned this later that evening. When Maddie went for her PT on the 24th, he and a few of his friends quickly transformed her room from austere to festive by adding a small pre-lit tree and some decorations, including a stocking and setting up a speaker to play Christmas tunes. When she returned, she found the lights in her room dimmed, a Christmas tree twinkling, Tom dressed in a lovely sweater and sharply pressed pants, smiling at her...she couldn’t help the tears that leapt from her stunned, moved heart.

“Thomas...? You did all this...for me?” She knew the question was foolish, but she was so shocked, she couldn’t help it. Never had she had such an experience before. Never had anyone lifted so much as a finger to show her a perfunctory kindness, so the thought someone had planned, then executed this level of a Christmas surprise gift for her would have brought her to her knees if she wasn’t already in a wheelchair.

The orderly escorting her had already disappeared, undoubtedly to spread the word of the lovely moment that was going on in room 5139 B.

Tom approached her quickly, and crouched down. “Darling, you can get around without the chair, yes?”

“Yes, it’s just after PT my muscles are tired so...”

He simply extended his hand, and she took it, rising slowly, legs shaking like a newborn fawn. Carefully, he led her away from the wheelchair, and wrapped his arms around her. “I’ve been longing to give you a hug since I first saw you. I hope you don’t mind my giving you this one now.”

The way Maddie was resting her head on his chest, he didn’t think she did. Her arms were around his waistline, making it natural for Tom to gently hold her figure to him and rest his cheek lightly on the top of her head. “You are very precious to me, Maddie Robillard. I think you are a breathtaking, remarkable, intuitive, beautiful soul residing in this delightful body that needs to be cherished and allowed to heal. Please let me be a part of that.”

She didn’t answer, just took a deep breath, and remained in his arms.

“That’s not a no...” he teased. 

https://open.spotify.com/track/7aEjsTKJKspp01vkeVgeRr?si=r4xZlBPyS7iwgJmiMWZ-ww

Christmas music continued to play in the background. “Christmas Time is Here” from the Charlie Brown television show began to play, and they both began to giggle, which morphed into full blown laughter. Tom guided Maddie into a very careful dance, mindful of her condition.

“‘You know, Santa Claus and ho-ho-ho, and mistletoe and presents to pretty girls...’” Tom mimicked perfectly, waggling his eyebrows. Maddie rolled her eyes indulgently. 

“Good grief,” she responded drily, even as her eyes twinkled. She couldn’t help it. 

Tom helped Maddie back to her bed as he could tell she was at the end of her physical strength. He then produced his next treat, his computer loaded with every Christmas movie he could think of he thought she might enjoy, beginning with the oldest made for television cartoon specials to recent movie releases. There were bags of microwave popcorn, and hot chocolate. Maddie was reduced to just shaking her head in disbelief. 

She was beginning to feel overwhelmed. It was too much, and she didn’t know how to process it all. Not only was this already the best Christmas she already had, but she didn’t even have a gift for the too-good-to-be-true man sitting next to her. In her life, too-good-to-be-true never was, but every one of her hard earned instincts promised he was sincere. Maddie had spent her entire adult life taking things as they came, but Tom was giving her a surfeit of riches. Too much attention. Too much affection. Too much presence...and dear God, her hormones were certainly reaching an all-time high.

He noted how she was not relaxed, nor was she reaching for the popcorn offered. “Maddie? Are you okay? You’re just sitting there...are you hurting, is something wrong, should I get a nurse...” She was taking shallow breaths as she looked at her hands, clenched in fists as her thumbs kept rubbing her index fingers.

“Please...I just need a moment,” she managed.

He was beginning to get worried. “A moment...help me, Madeleine, I don’t know what that means...I’m getting a nurse.”

Before she could object, he was gone.

Maddie’s fortunes were changing for the better, because she was attended by one of the older staff that was neither desirous of Tom’s attentions nor starstruck. “Well, Robillard, what’s going on that’s got that handsome man in a dither...and oh, you’re not looking so well...” Nurse Sarah Howard went to get her equipment, and suggested Tom give them some time alone.

After a exam and a gentle heart-to-heart, the nurse left her charge in search of a few medications, and certain gentleman who needed to be enlightened on a few things. 

Sarah found Tom pacing anxiously in a quiet area of the halls. “Tom? May I speak with you for a moment?”

He responded with the speed he was known for, and that was part of the problem she thought wryly. “Is Maddie all right? Did I do something wrong? Is she overtired? I didn’t think I kept her on her feet for too long but in retrospect...”

Sarah sighed and led him into an unoccupied patient room, then pointed to a chair. “Sit.”

He obeyed as quickly as a well trained hunting dog...or then again, a child brought up run by a religious order, as she had been, she though with a inward smile. “Tom, she is going to be just fine, but you need to understand a few things about Madeleine.”

“Yes, of course,” he swiftly agreed.

“That. That right there,” she pointed at him again.

“What?” He looked around him, puzzled.

“You move very quickly. Right now she needs a little more patience. In a lot of things. You are a very intense man, and I have no doubt when she is back to her prime she is going to keep pace with or even outrun you more like. Women often do,” she sniffed. “But she is tired, in pain, and healing. But more important, you are a bit like a tsunami. Madeline has never had anyone like you in her life. She is used to being marginalized. Ignored. Even exploited. You have showered her with more good things in the past two hours than she has experienced in the last two years...longer. When she add up her physical exhaustion with all that...she is overloaded.”

He bristled at her faintly reproving tone. “All the more reason she deserves to be surrounded by everything she has missed in her life. It’s Christmas Eve. She’s in hospital. I want to give her some Christmas magic...”

“Yes. You want to give her these things. How about you stop for a moment and think about what she would like to receive?” Sarah’s face was undeniably stern.

Tom wilted, his righteous indignation fading. “Should I just go home then? Does she need some space?”

Sarah took a breath, God grant me patience. “Tom, if you left now I think it would break her heart in a way she might never recover...I am just suggesting you stop plying her with everything at once. i know it is Christmas Eve and you want to play Father Christmas...” she trailed off as Tom visibly flinched and he surreptitiously glanced at the clock on the wall. “What. What is...oh, no. No. Tom, you didn’t...He’s not...”

“Well, not now,” he petulantly answered. “It’s nowhere near midnight yet.”

“Thomas Hiddleston, do you mean to tell me that you have arranged for Father Christmas to come to my ward tonight?”

He squirmed. “I...I know people, all right?! And she told me a few days ago Santa Claus never came for her before...”

“And did you ever once think of what kind of commotion and disruption such a visit might cause?”

Tom made a dismissive motion with his hand and head. “Oh, you don’t have to worry about that...it’s covered. No one will be the wiser.”

Sarah put her hand on her stomach. “You are not helping your case.”

Completely unrepentant, Tom asked if Maddie was feeing better. Sarah sighed. “Yes. I gave her something for pain, because she worked very hard at her PT today, she is pushing herself...and then she was overwhelmed, as I said. Go easy on the girl, Hiddleston. And by the way, you are way too tall to be an elf!”

Tom replied with a wide grin. “Does somebody need a hug?”

Maddie was resting on her side, facing the door. She was feeling a little floaty in the head, because of the shot Sarah had just dumped in her hip, but also because of what Sarah had just given her to think about—that Tom liked her, and was, in many ways, just an enthusiastic spirit who wanted to deluge her with everything all at once, simply because he could. If she felt it was too much, she needed to grab her big girl panties and say so. Otherwise, he would never know and continue to shower her with everything as he wished until she was either drowning or waterlogged. 

And if she didn’t know how to swim...he needed to know this too. Immediately. Or else he might think she didn’t want to swim, not that she didn’t know how.

Tom poked his head in to find her eyes searching for his.

“No, Maddie, don’t get up.” He reached her side in three quick strides. “I am sorry. I forget how sometimes I am...well...a bit of a whirlwind. In fact, it’s gotten me in trouble in relationships before. You’d think I’d learn, but...” He looked away, unwilling to meet her face, as he reflected on past affairs of the heart that turned into wounds. He so desperately wanted to build a solid foundation in the short periods of time he had available that he threw himself into it with all the fire and energy he did his roles...and yet, that never worked. Too much. Too fast. And then he disappeared, as he must, leaving his other half gasping, then resentful.

She reached out for him.  “Tom, I’d like to see you more as a cloud bringing rain to a desert...I would so love to be able to grow some flowers...but too much rain at once is just going to cause a bit of a mess, yeah?” Her voice was sleepy, but affectionate. “What time is it? It must be getting late. You need to be in bed or else Santa won’t come...”

“Ah, but it’s never specified whose bed I have to be in...” Again, he waggled his eyebrows roguishly. 

“You’re so silly. Aren’t you going to spend Christmas with your family? Seriously, Tom, I don’t wish to get in the way of that.” But as she spoke, Tom noticed she was holding his hand just as securely as ever.

“I told my family I was spending Christmas with you. I told them that awhile ago,” he confessed without shame. “It’s not as late as you think. Would you like to see a movie? Or are you tired, and wish to give it up and call it a night?”

He knew he wasn’t playing fair when he worded it thus. Maddie blinked her eyes deliberately, and he could just see her shaking off mental cobwebs.

“Tom, I would love to watch a movie with you...would you pick your favorite?”

He all but bounced and vibrated as he queued up Elf.

As the end credits rolled, Tom cast a surreptitious look at Maddie. She had been laughing delightedly at the comedy, but he could see that she was disturbed by the aspect of Buddy being the misplaced orphan, and he was kicking himself about it. How stupid and short sighted he had been...Halfway through, Sarah had come in, given Maddie her nightly medications, and sighed that they were going to make her droopy, but it couldn’t be helped, as she looked at Tom significantly.

Now, Tom was sitting next to Maddie on her narrow bed, and she was curled up next him, her head pillowed on his propped up shoulder. When Sarah had spied this, she had rolled her expressive brown eyes again, and brought a cushion for her head. “Bag of bones that man is,” she muttered. Can’t see where you’ll be comfortable otherwise. You’re welcome.”

Mmm, wouldn’t hurt to close my eyes for just a little moment... 

https://open.spotify.com/track/7y2CBABAGfYVvCOvZDc01H?si=MCb3zvZfSz-82YyXq_Z9Qw

Bells.

Why on earth was she hearing...bells?

Maddie could feel that she was sleeping in a very, very unusual position.

For one thing...she was in a man’s arms.

As she began to pull her fragmented wits together, she realized she and Tom must have fallen asleep watching another movie, because her head was still on his shoulder, and his arms were still very much around her, keeping her pressed up against him as he slept, taking in slow, even breaths.

Oh, the dear, ridiculous, foolish man...on Christmas Eve, no less...now to wake him and send him home in the middle of the night? How to do this...and why are there such loud bells in the movie...?

She opened her eyes and tried to move slowly, not to startle Tom. No one liked to be suddenly awakened when in a strange place...

                         And what to her wondering eyes should appear...

There was...a strange man in her room...fiddling with the stocking...dressed in a...red suit...

“Excuse me,” Maddie called out quietly, “But, um...may I help you?”

“Ho, ho, ho...Maddie, girl. You should still be asleep.”

The figure turned around, revealing the face of a veritable Santa Claus.

“Oh, come on,” Maddie coughed. “I didn’t get those kind of drugs. I know I didn’t.”

“Ah, Madeleine Robillard. I have been looking for you a very, very long time. I don’t know why it was so hard to find you, but...” Santa spread his hands wide in a display of helplessness. “Sometimes, things don’t go as they should.”

“Ah...yeahhhh...Listen, uh...I appreciate this, ‘Santa,’ but whatever you are up to, whoever you are, there are tons more people more deserving of whatever you are putting in my stocking than I am, on this very floor, I am willing to bet...so if you would be so kind, would you give them my share? I would consider it my Christmas gift. Truly, I would.”

“Maddie. You’ve been a very, very good girl. All year. In fact, all your life...for all that you are looking at me like I am some fellow off the street corner in a suit rented by the hour. But I understand, of course you don’t believe in me. How could you? I’ve done nothing but let you down. But that stops now.” 

Santa’s voice was rich, like Tom’s...like melted chocolate, but firm. Like a real father’s might be, she thought wistfully. If any of this was real. Which it most decidedly was not.

Tom stirred. “Maddie.” His voice was thick with sleep, but content, and his embrace tightened as she wriggled away from him.

“Tom, you should wake. For one, you cannot be comfortable. You should be home. For another, we have a visitor, and I have no doubt it is no surprise.”

Tom’s eyes flew open. “Maddie, what...?”

“Happy Christmas, Thomas.”

Father Christmas, or Santa, was rather wry as he addressed the lanky man as he struggled to sit up without jostling Madeleine. 

“Uhm...Happy Christmas, sir.” Tom looked at the clock on the wall. “You’re...early?”

“You dare put me on a time schedule, Thomas?”

“No sir, I, um...”

“Tom, honestly. As if you haven’t orchestrated this entire encounter...”

“Maddie...”

“Oh, Madeleine. The term is ‘Doubting Thomas,’ not ‘Doubting Madeleine,’ but once again, I understand.” Santa approached. “Give my beard a good tug. Go on. Or better yet...” With a small wince, he plucked a hair from his flowing white beard, then his head. “Real hair. Not nylon.” He then patted his hand firmly on his rounded abdomen. “That’s all Mrs. Claus’ most excellent cooking, dear one. No stuffing here, unless it has cranberry and walnuts in it, ho ho ho...”

Almost instinctively, Maddie’s forehead wrinkled. “But that’s not healthy. Your joints won’t thank you for it, you know.” She stopped, horrified when she realized she had spoken aloud. “Oh, God...I’m...so sorry, that was so rude, please forgive me, I meant no offense, truly I didn’t—“

Her stammering apology was drowned out by the man’s loud, ringing laughter. “Oh ho, ho, Maddie-girl. Think nothing of it. I know it came from a place of care and love.”

Meanwhile, Tom’s mouth was hanging somewhat open, as he was looking blankly at the clock. And shaking his head, all but counting on his fingers.

“Trouble, Thomas?”

“No, sir.”

“Would you say you have been a good man this year?”

Tom found himself pinned by a pair of bright blue eyes that outstared his own.

“Well, I...”

“Yes, he has.”

Maddie’s voice was resolute.

Both turned to look at her, surprised.

“Maddie, you’ve only known him for a few days of the 365. Perhaps there have been times he was impatient. Arrogant. Perhaps there were opportunities that he let his pride or selfishness get in the way where kindness would have better served the situation, or those around him.”

“Perhaps he is only human. Perhaps I have done the same.”

“Perhaps he has had many more opportunities to do good than you have, and let them slip through his fingers. Perhaps you have done so much more with what you have,” Santa volleyed back sternly, looking back at Tom.

“Perhaps he is right here,” Tom grumbled.

“I cannot argue with you, I am sure,” Maddie deferred to the older gentleman, falling back on her time-old defense of hiding in plain sight rather than begin a quarrel that she was sure not to win in the long run, even if she did in the here and now. “However, in all good conscience if Tom is found to be lacking in character and integrity in your eyes, I do not wish to receive anything you would give me. I cannot speak plainer. I have never given so much to a perfect stranger like he has. I do not speak of gifts. I speak of self. I’ve...” her voice became strained, and Tom promptly reached for her hand, “I can’t remember anyone ever being so kind, being such a friend...and when I needed one the most. Was it luck? fate? that he was behind me? I don’t know, but I’m grateful for it, because nothing so good has ever happened to me before, for all that I’m so banged up, and I don’t have a job, and my car is totaled, and oh my God, I’m going to lose my flat...” Maddie’s voice broke.

Tom now had his arms wrapped around her. “I promise to take care you, Madeleine,” he vowed fiercely. “I know you won’t let me carry you, your pride would beat me like a club...but I won’t let you go under. I’ll help you find a job on your own merits. And I will make sure you heal like you need to...and by God you’ll get compensation for what the drunken sot did to you. I swear it.”

Now it was Maddie’s eyes that were pinning him. “Truly, Tom? You won’t treat me as a charity case and keep giving me things? It’s not that I don’t appreciate everything, I do, but I have to do things on my own. I can’t face myself otherwise.”

Santa nodded approvingly. 

“Good man, Tom. Good man.” Then he looked at the clock. “Goodness. Time does have a way of going on though, doesn’t it? Perhaps the two of you should both be going back to sleep. Maddie. Forgive an old man for losing his way. I hope to have made up for it. Happy Christmas. And Thomas? Keep up the good work...and let bygones be bygones, boy. Let old hurts go. Carrying them around isn’t armor, a shield, or even a wall. It’s just dead weight. Remember that. And sometimes...what looks like the worst luck in your life turns out to be the biggest blessing you can ever imagine.” He nodded almost imperceptibly at Maddie, who was clearly beginning to become limp in his arms as she fought sleep, unsuccessfully. “Rest well, Madeleine Robillard. I will be keeping a special eye on you now that I’ve found you...and catch up on sleep yourself, Thomas Hiddleston. You’re going to have a busy year, methinks.” He gave them both a tender smile, as he could see Tom also struggling against encroaching slumber.

A soft sound of bells lulled them gently into pleasant dreams.

                         Merry Christmas to all, and to all, a good night.

[onlywished]

For your mermaids- 1,2,14, &26

i think this was for the emoji ask meme but if you meant this for another meme, feel free to send it again djvkas

👹 How does you OC act around different people and how does their personality change to match the environment they’re in? How do they act with: friends, family, strangers, children or their lover(s)? - BELLUS: Theyre all a lil mean to strangers tbh but out of all of them bellus is probably the nicest to strangers? He’s just v curious and willing to help out people long enough to satisfy his own curiosity or if it has something to do with romance. Friends & family are pretty much treated the same where he wants their attention the Most and since hes pretty extroverted, he ends up following them around and dragging them into whatever he wants to do because Friendship is involving your friends!! Hes also a v physically affectionate person that gives out compliments as soon as he thinks of them. And all thats just turned up more if he manages to get a lover. As for children, he doesnt really treat them any different than he does a stranger. Maybe a bit more condensing  - MERI: So its already established he has fun pranking and bothering people. Those pranks dont stop with friends & family, its just that hes more willing to hear out people hes close to when they dont like the most recent prank he pulled on them. It still takes him a bit to understand Why they wouldnt like the prank but hes still more open to hearing them out and thats a start! With a lover, im not fully sure how he’d act? he doesnt really have romance on the same level as importance as bellus does (really none of the others do-) so he’d be caught v off guard having a crush in the first place and probably be v tsundere about having Feelings. and then if they actually get together, he’d be v protective and a lot more willing to listen to them no matter what because he Knows he’s a little shit. as for kids, hes more likely to play pranks on them because theyre more likely to fall for tricks that grown ups have already learned to avoid. and the lost boys at least are also more likely to get over it compared to adults in neverland- - CASPIAN: tbh with strangers hes just vibing. watching. listening. he tends to know a lot about people he never even talks to because he spends so much time people watching and listening on nearby conversations. and hes unlikely to start conversations with people he isnt close to if he doesnt need something from them. with friends & family he does participate in conversations more, especially if theyre the type of people who need participation from him to feel comfortable, he just still likes listening more. and he likes listening to them talk about whatever theyre thinking about which is the reason he listens to bellus talk about his current crush all the time. he also takes a lot of mental notes about things they mention so that he can do things like choose decent birthday gifts and make sure if theres a surprise planned for them its something they’ll actually like. with lovers, he starts to initiate conversations more often because he likes their voice the most so he wants to try to keep them talking to listen to them go on. he also probably asks them to listen to him play songs on all his different instruments and writes songs specifically for them. he doesnt really like kids tbh so he’d avoid them as much as he can get away with- - KENN: hes wary and a lil defensive towards strangers but that doesnt stop him from trying to keep bellus and meri from being too chaotic and upsetting people they dont know. he’ll be polite if someone he doesnt know talks to him, though that doesnt mean he’ll keep being nice if he thinks theyre being rude. hes used to being the one expected to take care of others so with friends, theyll be added to his little group of people he watches over. sometimes he slips into that same habit with family but hes also more willing to let himself be the one whos taken care of for once. if he had a lover, he’d end up falling into his habit of taking care of them but he’d also want them to take care of him too.... to see how it feels to be on the receiving end more often....... despite being assigned the mom friend position, he isnt really that nurturing naturally?? so he’d be V Awkward around an actual child, especially if they arent like the lost boys because even if theyre kids, he can just trust that they’ll survive taking care of themselves. but actual kids who need supervision will just have an awkward uncle figure now

🥊 Does your OC prefer to take the lead or follow orders? With everyone or just with certain people? Is there a reason for this? - BELLUS: hes more comfortable following orders, though maybe with a little rebellion to cause whoever’s giving him the orders a lil grief. he thinks its funny. if the person giving the orders is someone he trusts, then he tends to not really think about the why behind anything they tell him to do unless its something v specific and strange. so he ends up being a bit of a blind follower since he doesnt think people he trusts would try to hurt him on purpose. and no matter whos giving him orders, if hes upset with them then he’ll chose the malicious obedience route where he follows orders very passive aggressively - MERI: he wants to be the leader A Lot!! but he also isnt really good at being a leader. he gets caught off guard whenever someone willing hands him the leading position in any kind of situation since hes used to trying to fight kenn for that role - CASPIAN: he doesnt enjoy being the one in charge of people tbh. like if he was forced into the position he’d actually do a pretty good job with it but he doesnt like the responsibility that comes with having to be in charge. caspian prefers to instead follow orders and make sure theyre being carried out when people (meri) start being unnecessarily rebellious in his opinion. that being said, he doesnt blindly follow orders and wont really listen to someone that he (or kenn-) doesn’t respect - KENN: hes been the one expected to be in charge so long that now it feels wrong not taking the lead in some capacity. he gets more uncomfortable with that role the more people hes expected to tell what to do and expected to be responsible for the mistakes they make. thats why he prefers to just lead a small group and maybe take orders from someone like conrad whos in charge of the whole his lil group is a part of

🐟 What was your OC like as a baby? What were they like as a child? A teenager? An adult? How do you think they’ll develop ten years into their future? Twenty years? Will they live to old age? - BELLUS: was probably a v innocent child tbh?? he just kinda went along with a lot of the things the others did since he’s the baby of the group and as they all got older, meri was the one who taught him the most about Crimes - MERI: 100% even more destructive as a child, he just didnt really know then the full consequences of his actions. he still doesnt really think about them nowadays too but hes still more Aware in the first place - CASPIAN: he was always quiet, even as a kid though he was also more shy back then. now he’d say hes more confident and that not talking much doesnt mean hes still the shy kid he used to be - KENN: a lot more outgoing and mischievous as a kid! he was still trying to figure out how to be in charge of a lil group like his friends and he doubts he would’ve really gotten far if caspian wasnt always there to help out - im torn between them all aging normally now that they’re vibing on the mainland or mermaids having a lil piece of neverland inside them no matter where they go and only really physically aging when they mentally age as well. like the mental growth they have and more concepts they learn that are associated with adulthood like grief, they more they turn physically into an adult. i think either way, none of them really understand the concept of dying from old age though

💚 Are you writing anything with this OC or planning on writing anything for them? Do you rp with them or are they just for fun to mess around with? - I do have a lot of fun developing them and drawing them all, I just dont know what I’d write for them dsbafbv. I didnt make them with the intention of rping them but mayhaps that’ll change one day?

[coloursflyaway]

Let’s Repeat Our Chorus Triumphantly [3/4]

Pairing: Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier

Rating: T

Word Count: 5.300

Tags: Angst and fluff, fix-it of sorts, past character death, falling in love (and everything that goes along with it)

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Read on AO3

Silver is starting to weave itself into Jaskier’s hair, thread by thread, and Geralt does his best not to see it, but it’s almost impossible to do so when Jaskier lays down with his head on Geralt’s lap, looking up at him hopefully until Geralt chuckles and buries one hand in his mostly dark locks, combing his fingers through them. They are as soft as they always were, and Jaskier hums contentedly, lets his eyes slide shut. It’s not peaceful because Ciri is gone, because nothing will be until they know what happened to her, where she is and how they can get her back, but it’s as close as they will get.

Jaskier stays silent for a few minutes, but there is an unfamiliar energy thrumming under his skin, Geralt can feel it beneath his fingertips, in the way Jaskier shifts from time to time, as if it was impossible for him to find any comfort in even this. “What it is it?”, Geralt finally asks, resuming to stroke Jaskier’s hair even as his eyes fly open, blue and looking almost guilty, as if Geralt had caught him during a thought he would have liked to keep a secret. It makes Geralt worry without knowing what it is he is contemplating, because there are so few things he knows Jaskier not to share with the world whenever the fancy catches him. “You can tell me.”

“I know.” Jaskier takes a shaky breath, then smiles up at Geralt, who hates to see that the curve of Jaskier’s lips doesn’t seem to make his eyes shine brighter as it is wont to do. “I have to tell you, even. Geralt… what will you do after I die?”

The words knock the air out of Geralt’s lungs like a blow, heavy enough to kill him, surely, because that’s how it feels; he has thought about it before, couldn’t help but do so, and yet has never found an answer, at least none he could share with Jaskier and have the other agree. His hand has stopped, but Geralt cannot look away from Jaskier’s eyes, although it is the first time he wants to, not certain how to bear the love within them when it suddenly feels like the beginning of a thousand goodbyes. His heart seems to have stopped, it’s the only explanation Geralt can offer for the pain in his chest; it only starts again when Jaskier reaches out and touches his dear hand to Geralt’s cheek, cupping it softly.

“I know, my darling, but we can’t run from it forever.” His voice is gentle and steady, everything the storm of emotion within Geralt isn’t, his palm warm as Jaskier tries to ground him. Geralt loves him so much he cannot talk, cannot speak. “I will not be here forever, that’s the beauty and the curse of being mortal. And I know you will still have Yennefer and Triss to look out for you, maybe even Ciri, but darling, I love you more than anything in this world, and I won’t be able to rest easily if I do not know that you’ll be able to go on without me. “ He brushes a thumb across Geralt’s cheek, tries to smile and almost succeeds, but Geralt still can’t speak, still can’t look away. “Now, come”, Jaskier admonishes so softly the words seem brittle, like his voice is about to break in the same way as Geralt’s heart has already broken. “Otherwise I might end up turning into a wraith, just to make sure you’re alright and you’ll have to banish me, and wouldn’t that be the worst ending to our story?” And Geralt still doesn’t know how to speak, but for the first time since he was a child, he knows how to cry.

 “How was he?”, the singer asks Geralt, chestnut hair falling into her hair as she cocks her head slightly. “I’ve read the stories he published, his ballads, but you knew him. You loved him.” “I still do”, Geralt corrects, slowly unfurls his fists just to have something to do. He doesn’t talk about Jaskier often, because even saying his name out-loud stings his lips; if he does, it’s Triss he talks to, Yen or Ciri, sometimes Keira, each with their own recollection of his bard, their own feelings. Talking about Jaskier as if he was a story is different, neither better nor worse, but Geralt knows that Jaskier would love it, would grin and offer up his own version of their tale so easily and urge Geralt to share his, and by Melitele, Geralt could never say no to him.

“He was everything to me”, he starts, uses words he knows well because he said them a thousand times before, mumbled them into Jaskier’s hair and hummed them against his skin, gasped them out into the cool air around them when Jaskier was so hot around him that Geralt thought he would melt. “And he was everything the stories say and so much more. Optimistic to a fault, kind, willing to love and to forgive without any reason for it. He couldn’t have held a grudge if his life had depended on it. When he was young, he’d be insufferable when we were stuck in a place for too long and he was stubborn right until the end. He was the best thing humanity had to offer.”

It’s nothing but the truth, because Ciri is no longer human, and once the words have started spilling from his lips, it’s difficult to stop them from coming. Maybe Geralt should have started talking about Jaskier years ago, because the world deserves to know what it has lost. The bard is still watching him, a look in her blue eyes that is vaguely familiar; it’s inspiration that is sinking its claws into her, Geralt has seen it often enough to recognise the signs. She licks her lips, blinks slowly, then takes a sip of his ale, just as if they were friends when Geralt doesn’t even know her name. “You really loved him”, she remarks, and Geralt thanks every possible god that she doesn’t sound surprised, because he doesn’t know if he could have endured it. “More than you ever loved someone.”

She doesn’t deny it.

 Neither of them sleeps that night, even though Geralt can see the exhaustion in Jaskier’s movements, can hear it in the slur in his speech. But Geralt doesn’t insult him by suggesting he should go to sleep, doesn’t lie and tell Jaskier that he’ll be fine without the other’s cornflower blue eyes on him until the morning. Instead, they spend the night lying on the thin mattress of the inn they are staying at, legs tangled and their fingers intertwined. Geralt doesn’t know if he’ll ever be able to allow Jaskier out of his sight again. He is beautiful in the dim light, even with the silver in his hair and the crow’s feet around his eyes, but then again, he always is.

“You never answered my question, dearest”, Jaskier asks gently in between kisses and shared breaths and the slow beats of Geralt’s fraying heart, the desperate pleas he sends out to every god that might listen to speed them up, so they’ll be allowed to leave the world together. He presses his lips to Jaskier’s just because he still can, then whispers his answer against them. “You wouldn’t like the answer.” “Oh darling.” There is sorrow in his voice as it vibrates against Geralt’s lips, bittersweet and unfamiliar, and Geralt almost wishes Jaskier didn’t know him as well as he does, so his meaning might have stayed hidden for a little longer. “No. Absolutely not, Geralt, you will not leave this world until your time has come, I forbid it.” Jaskier pulls away, and there are tears in his eyes, making them with bright with pain and defiance. It was Jaskier’s stubbornness that allowed them to have this, so Geralt cannot curse it, even if he is afraid what it will still lead to. What it will ask of him.

“I told you, you wouldn’t like it”, he tries gently, smooths his fingers down across the line of Jaskier’s jaw and wishes he could stop talking and just kiss Jaskier instead. “Of course I don’t”, the other answers, almost offended, almost like he expected Geralt to give a different answer, even though he should have known the second he allowed Geralt to kiss him for the first time, he had sealed his fate. “It’s the only one I have to give.” “It might be now”, Jaskier tells him and his expression changes, softens and is set alight with emotion, his love shining so fiercely out of his eyes that Geralt wants to look away for the second time this night. “I will teach a new one, dear heart. There is so much good in the world, even without me in it, and I’ll do my best to help you see it. But you have to promise me, once I go, don’t try to follow.” And he looks at Geralt, bright and beautiful and hopeful, and for once, Geralt cannot give him what he wants.

 “My name is Judet, by the way”, the bard tells him, takes another sip from the ale they now share, and Geralt doesn’t know how to answer, what to do with information he did not ask for. It seems right to know her name when she knows his life and yet he stays silent, watches her twirl the tankard around on the table, either working up the courage to ask a question or simply trying to think of one. Geralt lets her, watches her fingers scoot across the rim, flutter against the ceramic until she has decided on how to proceed.

“Do you ever…”, she starts, loses her voice before finding it again a moment later, not looking at Geralt but instead watching the tankard spin with him. “Do you ever wish you hadn’t had him? That you didn’t meet, or didn’t fall in love, so you wouldn’t have to go on without him? Is it worth the pain?” It isn’t the question he expected, but maybe the best one Judet could have asked, because it is one of few Geralt knows how to answer. “No”, he says, doesn’t have to take even a second to think about it. “Not for a moment. Not even when I watched him die. It tore me apart, it still does, but Jaskier was worth every second of it. We had decades together, but even if it had only been a year, a few months, I wouldn’t have traded it for anything.”

She stays silent for a bit, fingers still restless, but when she looks up at Geralt again, her eyes are neither sad nor nervous; they’re hopeful. “Thank you”, she says, “I’ll never forget either of you.”

 Geralt hears his footsteps even before the door opens but instead of turning around, he waits until he feels Jaskier’s hands on his shoulders, the warmth of his chest pressed against him from behind. “Two Witchers, huh? I always thought that one of you was more than enough to keep me busy”, he comments, obviously teasing, and Ciri looks over at them with a glint in her eye that tells Geralt that, when she was still so much younger, she would have stuck out her tongue. It makes Jaskier laugh, a soft, happy sound, then pretty pink lips press a kiss to the crown of his head, the weight of Jaskier’s hands on his shoulders disappearing for a moment as Jaskier joins him on the bench. He is wearing one of Geralt’s old shirts instead of his usual chemises, and the sight of it is enough to make Geralt’s heart sing. He must know, too, because his smile gains a mischievous edge that tells Geralt that Jaskier wouldn’t be averse to having the shirt torn off him later.

“Stop flirting when your daughter in the room”, Triss reprimands them gently, her tone too playful for Geralt to take her seriously, but just enough for Geralt to look at her, at Ciri, who is sitting on the floor in front of her so Triss can braid her hair, and is trying to stifle her laughter but failing. She has grown up to be everything Geralt always knew she would be, strong and kind and brave, stubborn and occasionally reckless, and there is nothing she could do to make Geralt love her any less. “This is nothing”, she tells Triss and almost makes Geralt regret his words. “Usually they are worse. Hey, Jask, remember Kaer Morhen, when I walked in on you – “ “Cirilla Fiona Elen Riannon, I distinctly remember you promising me to never talk about this ever again”, Jaskier interrupts her, his cheeks flushed but laughter tinging his voice anyway. “Don’t make add a stanza to The Lion Cub of Cintra about what a brat you are, posthumous slander would be a disastrous look for both of us.”

If anything, the words make Ciri giggle, Triss doing her best to keep her sitting still so she won’t mess up the braid, and Geralt wants to keep this memory forever, Triss’ gentle eyes and hands, Ciri’s happiness now they have her back and she doesn’t have to go and fill a role she was bred, but not born for, Jaskier next to him, reaching out to take Geralt’s hand in his, linking their fingers together. Leaning in and muttering softly, so neither of the women will hear, “Don’t you think this would be worth living for, darling?”

 He leaves Judet behind, still nursing an ale Geralt bought her, and walks back to his inn, resisting the urge to check in on Roach, because it’s late and the mare surely is asleep already. But there is something so dreadful and familiar about returning to an empty room that Geralt almost changes his mind before unlocking the door, almost returns to more of Judet’s questions, more ale, more songs. But it won’t change anything, won’t make the cold bed more inviting later, so Geralt forces his fingers to turn the key, his hands to push the door open. What greets him is the scent of ranogrin and fool’s parsley, what greets him is heartbreak, and Geralt breathes it in deeply.

It takes the snap of a finger to ignite up the fireplace, its light reflecting in the windows, the buckles and plates of Geralt’s armour, and it must be serendipity that Geralt’s eyes catch a glint of white on the table, beneath the pouches of herbs he was meant to brew potions with. It’s a few sheets of paper, just enough for a letter on a night in which he craves company. He doesn’t know how to reach Ciri; sometimes they’ll meet up on the road, take a few contracts on together, but in the end, he has to let her go, because his cub has become a lioness and deserves the chance to make her own memories, untainted by destiny or politics. Yet, Geralt misses her, the daughter he never thought he could have, misses her even more tonight. In a few months, once winter has stretched out its icy fingers, they’ll meet in Kaer Morhen, but what usually passes in the blink of an eye seems to stretch endlessly now. However, while it will take time for them to meet, Ciri goes to visit Yennefer whenever she’s close by; Yennefer, who loves Ciri like a daughter and who has been a better friend to Geralt than he might deserve. Yennefer, who will surely hand Ciri his letter with a snide comment about how he is growing sentimental in his old age, but with her lilac eyes fond and brightened by understanding. And after all, it’s nothing Geralt could object to, not even if he wanted to.

 Before anyone else can see it, Geralt rips the letter to shreds, feeling the thick paper give way far more easily than it should. It’s in tatters within seconds and he throws the remnants into the fire to make certain it stays his secret. In his chest, panic is rising quickly, a flood he hasn’t yet found a way to quell, but instead one that seems to get more dangerous with every time it crashes over him. One day, it will drag him out to sea, drown him there, Geralt knows it, and yet hasn’t found something to hold onto yet, even if he has tried his hardest. He has asked the elves and the dwarves, the dryads in Brokilon forest; he has written Triss more times than he could count, has asked Keira and even sent word to Philippa Eilhart, even if there had once been a time in which he had hoped to never deal with her again.

And he had asked Yennefer, right at the very end, when he didn’t know what else to do, not because he thought her the least capable, but because he knew she’d be the first to reject him. Now she was the last. It’s hard to breathe, and dimly, Geralt thinks that maybe he should be used to the feeling, but it doesn’t get easier, doesn’t get better, because time passes so quickly now, silently, that it seems that sometimes, all he does is blink and he loses months at a time, months he should have spent better, more carefully, with eyes wide open as not to miss a second. Because he doesn’t know how many he still has left.

The letter burns up quickly, painful words turning to dust, and Geralt is about to leave and try to take his mind of another hope that has been squashed, but then there are footsteps approaching, their pattern familiar, and even if his chest aches and he doesn’t know if he’ll be able to summon a smile to his lips, he stays. Jaskier rounds the corner and Geralt feels his muscles relax despite himself when the bard comes closer, slides his arms around Geralt’s waist from behind, resting his chin on Geralt’s shoulder. Over the years, they have found a way to fit together so close to perfectly, and it’s second nature by now for Geralt to lean back against the man who is still everything to him, feel Jaskier hum softly in response.

“There you are”, Jaskier mutters into the crook of Geralt’s neck, his breath ticklish against the Witcher’s skin. “I’ve been searching for you. Winter after winter I have spent in this damned castle and yet I still cannot find my way around it.” He’s waiting for an answer, but Geralt can’t think of anything to say, not with the panic still lurking at the edges of his mind, waiting to strike again. It’s a vicious thing after all, keeping him up night after night, distracting him when he should be focussed, making him falter when he should be standing strong. “Ciri told me you had gotten a letter”, Jaskier continues once he realises that he will have to carries this conversation by himself, and Geralt nods in response, Jaskier’s hair tickling the side of his throat at the motion. “Who was it from?”

“Yen. Nothing important, don’t worry.” “The famed sorceress Yennefer of Vengerberg, finding time to do anything that isn’t of the greatest importance? I struggle to believe that.” Jaskier sounds playful, presses a kiss to the side of Geralt’s jaw, so obviously trying to cheer him up, and Geralt loves him so desperately he almost expects his chest to burst open, set both of them aflame. But he still can’t answer, can’t move, can hardly even speak, and it stings when Jaskier sighs into his shoulder, deflated. “You’ve been distant, darling”, he mumbles, and still leaves another kiss on Geralt’s cheek, as if he could somehow make it better. “Do you want to tell me what is bothering you? Maybe I could help. Or I could at least try to distract you from whatever it is.”

It’s the sweetest of offers and Geralt wants nothing more than to take it, but he can’t, doesn’t know how to. “It’s nothing, love”, he tells Jaskier and knows that the tone of his voice is giving him away. “You do not need to worry about it.” A moment passes, a pause filled with tension that Geralt isn’t familiar with but hates all the more, then Jaskier nods against his shoulder, slow and weary. “I’ll never stop worrying about you”, he mutters, and his voice is muffled by the fabric of Geralt’s shirt, dulled by resignation, but he still pulls Geralt closer, his heartbeat steady against the Witcher’s back. “But I’ll do my best to keep it at a minimum for you, darling.”

 When he wakes, the sun has not yet risen, but the first rays of her light are already tinting the sky red and pink and golden, illuminating the small room just enough to let Geralt know a new day has begun. Although he tossed and turned all night, he feels rested, the last wisps of his dreams still lingering behind his lids whenever he closes his eyes. Memories of Yennefer helping Ciri up onto her first horse, Vesemir watching from afar and not being able to keep the smile from his face at Ciri’s obvious joy. Of Triss, exhausted but happy, because they had helped save a young mage and her lover from witch hunters, smuggling them out of Novigrad through a net of tunnels and caves beneath the city. Of Jaskier, always of Jaskier, pulling Geralt close to tuck his chin against his shoulder, his fingers strong and calloused as they thread themselves in Geralt’s hair; Jaskier beaming at him from across the room and lighting it up without knowing; Jaskier, with his hair more silver than brown, resting their foreheads together and telling Geralt, come home to me, dear heart, come home.

Usually, his dreams leave him frayed around the edges, as if half his heart was still caught up in the memories of how it used to be, yet he is calm as he pushes himself up, even if he still feels the ghost of Jaskier’s fingers on his shoulder, trying to pull him back down. Just a few more minutes, he can hear Jaskier mumble, his voice soft with sleep, don’t leave, you’re warm. Geralt shakes off the thoughts, there is no point in staying in bed when he’s the only one in it; instead, he dresses, ignoring how his body protests as he dons his armour once more, the leather and metal digging into familiar grooves and bruises. He is used to the discomfort, shrugs it off as best he can and packs the rest of his things, the herbs and his whet stone, shoulders his swords, knowing he’ll need them later. It’s just the letter he keeps in his hand, the white paper stained with ink from his untrained hands; he’ll leave it with the innkeeper, together with a few orens, and the request to post it.

Just before he leaves, on a whim, he takes the crushed ranogrin twig and stuffs it down his glove; the scent makes up tenfold for the way the needles prick his skin.

 “Geralt, darling?”, Jaskier calls out as he steps into the room; Kaer Morhen is cold as ever and Jaskier is bundled up in what seems like every piece of clothing he could find. He sounds cautious, something Geralt has never associated with his bard, something that sets Geralt’s nerves on edge within seconds, makes his slow heart beat faster. “Lambert told me I would find you here. Can we talk?” He is fidgeting, fingers picking at the seams of one of his jackets, and Geralt hasn’t been able to get rid of the panic in his chest ever since Yennefer’s letter came, but it’s the first time it’s Jaskier’s words that summon it. A frantic hum starts right under Geralt’s skin, filling up the cavity of his chest until he feels like drowning, because Geralt cannot remember the last time Jaskier looked nervous around him and it pains him in a way he almost forgot about. It’s a quiet ache, settling deep in his bones, and Geralt knows he has to fix this, the need for it pushing even thoughts of potions, enchantments and solutions behind; he’ll fix this, he has to, because he cannot take Jaskier’s eyes being filled with uncertainty when he looks at him.

Geralt moves to stand up, to meet Jaskier in the middle and take him into his arms, kiss the worry from his furrowed brow, but Jaskier motions him to stay and instead joins Geralt on the bench he is sitting on, ignoring that it is close to the window, that the cold must be seeping through all his layers and chilling him to the bone. And yet, Geralt is frozen to his spot, unable to offer moving to another room, to pull Jaskier in his arms to warm him, because the other’s eyes look different up close, determined as ever, but with an ache hidden within the blue of them that takes Geralt’s breath away with its intensity. He doesn’t know what happened, only knows that he’d do anything to undo it. “What –“, he starts, but Jaskier interrupts him with the slightest shake of his head, a gentle smile on his lips. Yet, he soothes the sting of it by reaching out and taking Geralt’s hand in his, the callouses of his fingertips catching slightly on Geralt’s knuckles as Jaskier drags them across the back of his hands. It’s familiar, it’s love, it’s everything Geralt cannot bear to think of losing.

“Forgive me, darling, I don’t quite know how to say this”, Jaskier mutters and his voice is too soft, too sweet, too calm, makes Geralt’s heart ache because he can still see the pain in Jaskier’s eyes. “But Yennefer has written me a letter…and at first, I wondered what I had done to anger her, but she wrote that you’ve been asking her for something. A cure for mortality.” His hands are still holding onto Geralt’s, the only source of warmth still left, because Geralt is frozen inside, the panic no longer making his bones rattle because it’s congealed inside of him, making it impossible to breathe, to think. Jaskier was never supposed to find out, not before Geralt had found a way to fix this, and yet Jaskier is looking at him with more care, more love than should exist on the entire Continent, more sadness than Geralt ever wanted to allow within his heart.

“You must know”, Jaskier continues, strokes fingertips across Geralt’s useless hand before he brings it up to his lips, brushing a kiss against the knuckles, “that if I could, I would spend eternity with you. But Yennefer has assured me in no uncertain terms that there are just two way to achieve such a feat – become a sorcerer or go through the Trial of the Grasses, and we both know that I don’t possess a spark of magic within my body. And that, even if it was still a possibility, the Trial would do nothing but allow death to catch up to me much sooner.” Jaskier chuckles softly, without mirth in his voice, and Geralt feels his eyes starting to burn, his chest constricting, squeezing viscous panic through his veins, his lungs, until it starts to feel like heartbreak. Another kiss is pressed to his knuckles, meant to soothe, but Geralt is long past soothing.

“I love you, dearest. More than anything or anyone, and you have made my life more than I could ever have dreamt it to be before I met you.  You are all of my best memories and it was you, who made the worst ones bearable. Having one lifetime with you in it, it’s all I could ever have asked for.” There are tears shining in Jaskier’s eyes, but he doesn’t allow them to fall, instead holds their joined hands against his cheek and looks at Geralt through his lashes, so much love in his gaze that Geralt forgets how to breathe. “One day”, Jaskier continues and Geralt knows that this is something he has been thinking of, written down in the confines of his head so he’ll deliver it perfectly, as if the right words could make their meaning hurt any less. The thought is terrifying beyond belief. “One day, I will have to leave you and it will be the hardest thing I’ll ever do, but it seems that there is nothing either of us can do against it. I’ll have to learn how to let you go, and believe me, dear heart, there is nothing in the world that could ever prepare me for how much it will hurt. And you will have to learn how to live without me, because I will ask the one thing of you I know you don’t want to give, again and again, for nothing but the most selfish of reasons. Just because I don’t want to even consider a world without you into it, even after I have passed.”

A tear spills from cornflower eyes, glistening in the dim light streaming through the window; it dampens Geralt’s skin where it is still pressed against Jaskier’s cheek, and he can’t look away, can’t do anything but allow Jaskier to talk and prepare his heart to be broken. “It will hurt and I won’t be there to soothe your pain, and nothing has ever scared me more than that thought, but I’ll do my best to help you with every step as long as I still can. Because I know, oh, my love, I know that I am the one who gets off easy and you will be the one who will have to bear my pain alongside with yours.” Another tear, another kiss to Geralt’s damp knuckles, then Jaskier lets their hands sink back to his lap and looks at him, his tenderness a sword that cleaves apart Geralt’s heart and lets its contents spill freely into the air between them. “If I could, I would take your place, your pain, but for once, I cannot. But I can give you another ten years, maybe twenty, and I can give you my heart, over and over again, and hope that it’s enough to make it worth it.”

Jaskier’s words dry up between them while Geralt’s heart still spills blood and love, threatening to drown them both; Jaskier deserves an answer, but Geralt can’t speak, can’t form a thought, because heartbreak has given way to love, filling up his entire being. Not enough to filter out the pain, but to make it seem more bearable for just a moment, because he’ll suffer through anything if it means he gets to keep Jaskier in his arms a little longer. Losing him still seems impossible, but Jaskier’s eyes are begging him for acceptance and Geralt has lost the ability to say no to him.

Instead of speaking, he pulls Jaskier into his arms, wrapping them around Jaskier’s slighter form until he can feel the lines of his body even through the layers of fabric, tucks his head into the crook of Jaskier’s neck and breathes in his scent. Jaskier’s chest is wrecked with half-suppressed sobs and Geralt holds him tighter, feels fingers weave themselves into his hair, smells a hint of chamomile and ranogrin and knows that his world has changed, irreversibly. “Anything”, he stutters and with that, rips a hole into his own chest to tear out his heart, lay it in Jaskier’s lap to decide its fate. He straightens, catches Jaskier’s gaze so he’ll know Geralt means it, even if his own eyes sting and Jaskier’s are bloodshot, wet with tears. “I’ll do anything you ask of me, Jaskier. You’ll always be worth it.”

[one-night-story]

Echoes of You (Spike Spiegel)

A/N: The formatting on this is h e l l. But when nostalgia slaps you and says “Fall in love with Spike Spiegel again.” You do as it’s says. Thus this

Roman Holiday had changed who she was so many times she didn’t remember who she was when she started. She’d been a drug lord, a spy, an informant, a bounty, a runaway. But these days, with blue and purple hair and a coat large enough to hide a pistol, she settled on being a ghost among the streets, listening and picking up information as she went. She found herself on Mars, mourning friends and paying dues. She was going to have to disappear again soon. But first, she needed food, scissors, and some hair dye; though she was uncertain what color. She tried walking into a convenience store when she ran into someone.

“Sorry about that.” The guy said. From that one comment Roman almost got whiplash. That voice shouldn’t be talking to her. That voice should’ve been dead. If not from the first time, then definitely the second time. She looked up at him and sure enough it was him. Spike Spiegel in all his blue suited, disheveled glory. And he looked just as shocked to see her. “Ro-?” He didn’t get to finish her name because she took off, sprinting in the opposite direction as fast as she could. He of course went after her, he always would, and she scaled a building to get to the roof. She pulled her pistol and waited for him to catch up.

“Who are you?” She asked.

“Ro don’t do this.”

“Tell me! Stop playing cruel tricks and just tell me!” She yelled. It couldn’t be him, it shouldn’t be him.

“Roman, it’s really me.”

“Bullshit, you died.”

“I didn’t,”

“Then you died again.”

“I’ve had worse.” He said with his trademark lazy smile. Roman almost let up at that. He still knew her weak points.

“Gimme the word.” She said, lowering her gun but not putting it away. He furrowed his brows and then figured it out.

“Lily.” He said. Roman lowered her pistol entirely and put it away. Her flower of choice. Julia had roses, she had lilies. Her whole form softened, though she was far from the Roman he used to know. Spike took a step forward to see if she’d let him and sure enough, she didn’t move. “It’s good to see you Roman. Glad to know you’re still picking up information.” He said. Roman shrugged and sat down, still keeping her distance.

“Nothing better to do on this dirt rock. You know you threw the whole operation into chaos, right? There’s a power vacuum with at least seven people trying to fill it.” She said. Spike sat across from her, a little closer than she would’ve liked, but she allowed it. She chalked it up to some primal part of her brain still wanting to keep him as close as she could. He pulled a cigarette from his pocket and stuck it in his mouth.

“What’s next for you then? Figure you’re not gonna stick around for that mess to sort itself out.” He said as he fished out a lighter and lit the cigarette. He took a drag and offered it to Roman. She took it and copied the movement. She never smoked unless she was with Spike. Again, she chalked it up to that primal part of her brain that was still 13 years old and hoped that she still stood a chance against a far prettier half-sister.

“I cut my hair, redye it and catch a flight out of here. I’m thinking Ganymede. Or the asteroids. Hell, I could go be a small fry in Tijuana.” She said.

“And what color will it be this time?” He asked. Roman’s mood was usually determined by her hair. She changed it with regimes, mood, the music she was listening to that month, and sometimes when she felt she had no control of anything. He watched as she thought over her answer.

“Red. Probably. Or pink. Julia always thought I’d look good with pink.” She said muttering the last part.

“You would.” He said. Roman tried to not flush to the color in question, but she never did take compliments well. “I remember she was constantly trying to push you out of the shadows.”

“I like the shadows. No one judges me there. I’m useful there.” Roman argued. Spike chuckled and took a drag from his cigarette. The motion was repeated when he passed it to her to take a drag.

“Maybe, but you have no reason to stay there. Unless you wanna start working for the police.” He said.

“I could be a bounty hunter.” She said with a shrug.

“Oh no, I don’t think I could have you competing for my dinner money too.” He said with his trademark smile. Roman laughed at his comment, a real laugh. Something she hadn’t done in a while. As she laughed, Spike watched her. Her face was lit up by the beginnings of sunset and neon. Her and Julia had no personality similarities, but sometimes they did have physical ones.

“I haven’t done that in forever.” She said when she finally calmed down. Spike smiled at her. She seemed lighter now, more at ease. It was like the laughter fit had locked her into a time machine and she had shed so many years of cynicism with ease. “What about you? What becomes of the great Spike Spiegel? Now newly undeceased again.” She asked. Spike thought it over. He wasn’t certain. He didn’t know if he could go back to the Bebop. But he didn’t know any other way of life. Maybe just him and Jet could strike out again. Maybe he needed to go forward. Maybe he needed to disappear.

“No idea. Maybe dye my hair and change planets.” He said. Roman rolled her eyes.

“Hey, don’t steal my one thing.” She said. Spike chuckled and actually gave her a genuine smile. They were silent for a minute, casually passing the cigarette between themselves. For a moment they felt like teenagers again, sharing cigarettes and sharing a moment of uncertainty. At least that’s how Roman always felt in moments like these. Until finally she broke the tension.

“Annie told me you came to see her.” She said as she looked down.

“Yeah. Thought I might finally kill him.”

“Ignored my bounty then.”

“Always did. Whenever it came up, no matter what the price, no matter what name you were under. I wouldn’t do that to you Roman.” He said. It felt like a whisper on the wind. Like if he said it any louder, he’d lose her like he lost Julia. Roman leaned into this, allowing one of her knees to knock into his. She needed this. She needed him. Outside of just that primal part that told her she was once 13 and crushing on the one person in the whole galaxy she couldn’t have.

“I look at you and I think… god what have we done with our lives? And what did it get us?” She said with what Spike could only describe as the truest form of sadness he’s ever seen from her. Roman Holiday kept all her cards close to her chest until one day, she’d die. But now? He felt like he was peering through a brick in her wall. “I loved my sister more than anything in this life. And I chose her happiness over mine, time and time again.” She scoffed and leaned back on her hands. “God I can’t believe I’m saying this.”

“What?” He asked. He wasn’t sure what was coming next, but curiosity killed him to know.

“A million years ago, she said to me “this one’s mine.” So, I stood by.” She said. “And I knew I shouldn’t do anything, I should just leave and pretend I never met you. But Julia,”

“She was too kind for that.” He said as his brain was slowly putting the pieces together. He had always wondered when they were kids, even before Roman became a shadow figure, why she always seemed to fall into that point, even when Julia brought her out, or when he tried to talk to her. But now he got it. She’d been hiding pain this whole time.

“I should go.” She said. She stood up and dusted herself off. Spike stood up as well and grabbed her wrist before she could go anywhere.

“Don’t disappear again.” He said. Roman looked down at her beat up shoes, trying to hide what had just come to pass.

“You can’t ask that of me.” She said.

“Ro, you’re all I’ve got left.”

“And who’s fault is that?” She snapped. Spike wanted to get offended. But he remembered an incident when they were younger, where he’d gotten too close and she’d snapped, and he retaliated. They didn’t speak for a month. Not until Julia forced them to, and not until after he’d brought her lilies. He sighed and plucked the nearly burnt out cigarette from his teeth and passed it to her. She took a drag and then stomped it out. She was still looking down at it when Spike brought her face to look up at him. Roman unintentionally leaned her cheek into his hand, blinking at him a couple of times.

“I won’t let this be the last time I see you Roman.” He said. Spike, at his core, was a deeply sentimental person. He couldn’t lose Roman. She reached up and brought his face to hers, giving him a small, soft and what Spike could only describe as a ghost of a kiss. Like she was afraid of what fully kissing him would mean. He kissed her cheek in turn, letting it sit there a little longer than either of them expected. When they separated, they put the distance back between them. Once again, afraid of what the closeness would do to them. She tossed him a comm unit she had pocketed off some guy and he caught it with ease.

“Call that ship of yours.”

“Wouldn’t that be going backward?” He asked.

“One step backward to go miles forward? I think it’s worth it. Call them Spiegel.” She said. Spike nodded.

“Remember, pink.” He said. Roman gave him a small, soft smile and nodded.

“See you Space Cowboy.” She said as she ran off the edge of the roof, scaling down the building to go buy some scissors, some food, and some pink hair dye.

[saturnmyg]

Lichterloh  | Kim Taehyung

Synopsis ⤑ you’ve heard endless stories about small towns. That the folks living there loves to gossip all day, that theres always that one kid dreaming of making in in the big city. And of course the tales about supernatural beings lurking in the woods. After moving into town your’e surprised that you landed in a place that seems to be brimming with those beings and how the town just accepts them. Yet somehow just shortly after you’ve settled down you find yourself pulled into a scavenger hunt on the lookout for a glowing head that belongs to the Dullahan named taehyung.’‘

➵ paring: Dullahan Taehyung  x Human reader

➵ A/n: happy halloween peeps!! 

 this is a part of the halloween collaboration!

| 12.9k words | Horror au |  gore | Major character death | action | small town horror au

| warnings: description of ungodly beings/ body horror

masterlist 

⤑ ⤑ ⤑ ⤑

''Ah, that belongs into the living room'' you tell the movers and they nod at you.

You've lived your whole entire life in a high rise city, where theres constantly something going on. With the years passing by, the stress of trying to function in a system that forced you to think about your value as a human being, based on how productive were /how much money you can made, caught up to you.

So when you found about the small town named Silverdell you instantly packed your stuff and got ready to leave. Of course your mother opposed, saying that moving so far away from the family, to a small town that barely made it on the map was just dangerous. Nothing could change your mind so you proceeded with the moving, but you had to promise her to call her at least four times a week.

The weird thing though was that at first, you couldn't find the town. For some reason no matter who you asked for directions, they'd tell you that they never heard of that place and that you should ask someone else. Finally after driving for a few days through the midwest you finally arrived in silverdell, only to find the truck that had your belongings already standing in front of your house.

''You know'' you turn around to face the man thats standing next to you smoking a cigaret ‘’I’ve been wondering how that truck arrived here before me, considering that i couldn’t find this town’’

The man, who goes by the name of sam, chuckles. He’s a man of average height with a full beard and wild hair that lowkey reminds you of a pirate. ‘’that happens to every newcomer’’ he takes a long drag  of the cigaret ‘’you wont find silverdell until the town accepts you’’

You furrow your brow ‘’accept? as in the town council accepting you?’’

Sam shakes his head ‘’Silverdell has a mind on its own, no one can know about it or leave and come as they want without its approval’’

‘’so you have to send a letter to let them know you're leaving for a certain amounts of days?’’

‘’Nope'' Sam answers '' it will know’’

With furrowed brows you look away. His answer is confusing, sure he earlier said that silverdell has its own mind but its not like its actually alive, or even sentient. Your'e sure the reason why you couldn't find the town was because you're bad with directions.

‘’Oh please that one belongs into the kitchen, careful it has kitchen utensils inside.’’ You say to a young mover.

The blasting of the siren is so loud you jump out of your skin. Panicking you turn around to look up at the sky, where the sun is hanging low in the horizon and the blue hue has turned red.

‘’Whats going on?’’ you turn to sam with wide eyes.

Sam on the other hand, his expression is still the same, almost as if he knew that would happen and was counting down the seconds. He presses the cigarette against the fence to put it out ‘’The headless rider is about to come out’’

Slightly annoyed you look at the burnt mark of your wood fence before turning back to sam ‘’he what?’’

‘’No time to talk, first let’s get into the house’’ he ushers you towards the house where you see that all the other movers are already inside, peaking their head out of the door waiting for you two to enter.

''Wait whats going on, and why are you all in my house?'' you ask bewildered and shut the door behind you. Walking into the living room you see various movers sitting on the unfurnished floor while unpacking  your boxes.  

Embarrassed you walk up to them. ''please you don’t have to do that i can do that on my own’’ you scratch your cheek

‘’Don worry’’  one of the boys answers. ‘’Until the night rider is gone we have nothing to do anyways , might as well help you unpack’’

‘’Who’s the night rider?’’ you ask

Sam whose standing by the windows, closes the curtains and turns around to face the you all with a grim expression on. ‘’The headless rider is a being you shouldn't talk or think about’’

The boy whose the closest to you, and spoke up earlier, rolls his eyes ‘’there he goes again’’ and turns around to look at you again ‘’ theres a tale amongst the elder that the headless rider is a being that eat’s human souls and sometimes their body too but there hasn’t been such an incident in over two hundred ears’’ he explains and stretches his hand towards you ‘’anyways i’m jun, don’t worry about sam he's an old grim man who thinks death is lurking on every corner of this town’’

Jun looks around your age. He has dark honey colored skin with almost waist long black hair. The sleeves of his shirt are rolled up, showing an intricate tattoo on the right arm.

‘’I’m Y/n’’ you take his hand into yours and shake it ‘’but back to the headless rider’‘

‘’Ah yes’’ jun counters ‘’if you go by folklore then the night rider is the harbinger of death but if you go by what towns folk say then he’s a human eating monster’’

You raise your eyebrows at that

‘’Every sunset the rider comes out of the forest, holding a lit torch and gallops from one end of the town to the other with creatures from following him, weirdly though it’s always only one direction that he brings them to.  There are some theories that the reason he does that ,is because at sunrise he brings them back, but theres no evidence backing that up ‘’Jun finishes

‘’why has no one ever seen him?how do you even know that he exists? or know about his activities?’’ you ask baffled that the towns folk just believe something wholeheartedly without even having it seen with their own eyes.

‘’Because those who aren’t inside a building the moment the last siren ring, usually go missing the same evening’’ Jun answers with a serious expression

‘’That still doesn’t explain how this tale got spread around’’ you counter ‘’dead men tell no tales’’

Jun just blinks at you for a few seconds before shrugging his shoulders and continues to take items out of the box.

‘’Thats just how it is’’ Sam speaks up ‘’ when the siren rings you hide, when you see angels you ignore them, thats how it has been for decades’’ He faces the small radio thats on the table ‘’in this town its very dangerous to question traditions or rules, you ought to be careful’’ and curbs the knob.

The radio makes a static noise for a few seconds until you hear a bewildered nasal voice speak up

''Yoongi how can you say you don’t believe in them, even though you starred one dead in the eye and showed me a picture of it?''

The movers in your house all chuckle at that

The other person, presumably yoongi ,just sighs deeply almost as he's used and tired of the first host's outbreaks. '' first of all it was around eight feet tall and skinny like a stick figure i thought that was an abstract piece of art , theres no way that was wendigo''  

you stop in your tracks and look at the radio in perplex, ‘’a what now?’’ you ask no one in particular.

Sam who sees the look of confusion on your face just shrugs his shoulders, as if to tell you to get used to it

Hoseok just sputters '' man come on we all know what a wendigo looks like , yoongi how stubborn are you?, did you not notice the never ending eyes on its body?’’

‘’I 'mean it did but i was too occupied to not vomit from the stench of  greg’s butchery’’ yoongi counters

‘’God that store should be banned to serve people, i’m pretty sure he uses inhuman creatures to- hold on why were you even near that place?’’

''Clearly to not buy meat Hoseok'' yoongi answers ‘’i was just taking a stroll when i found it standing by the butchery’’

‘’Wouldn’t surprise me if it actually eats the shit Greg sells’’ Hoseok says ‘’but anyways back to reporting, as for no-’’

‘’-as for now no one's dead because we all know to stay inside if you don’t want to be taken by the council for seeing the headless, and i’m putting quotations marks on ''headless'' dear listeners,  rider'’’Yoongi interrupts

‘’Really?’’Hoseok asks ‘’so you think that the headless rider is something that the city council has made up to, i dont’ know , manipulate us?’’

‘’Lets be realistic’’ Yoongi counters ‘’no being can be alive without a head, even vampires are known to die if you cut their head off’’

‘’chickens do though’’ Hoseok continues ‘’like they'll continue to run around, which is frankly creepy as hell’’

‘’The minute you separate the brain from the neck, just like in humans, you’re going to get tremendous movement of the limbs, please did you not pay attention in biology class?’’

‘’Firstly i majored in art’’ Hoseok answers ‘’secondly everything that happened before college i have no memory of, hell i don’t even remember half of the shit from college.’’

‘’Thats sad’’ Yoongi states

‘’Anyways’’ Hoseok deviates from the topic ‘’as Yoongi said there are no reports of anyone gone missing this week, besides old Berta's cat but thats nothing new.’’

‘’It really isnt’’ Yoongi continues ‘’after this ad we'll open up the lines so please listeners stay tuned’’

While the ad is playing, you faintly hear the sound of the siren go off again but this time only for a few seconds. worriedly you look over to the window and see that another mover, this time a woman,  is pulling aside the curtain very slowly almost as if she's expecting a monster's face instead of hers to appear in the reflection. After inspecting the outside for a few seconds she finally turns around and gives the people in the room, that are watching her ,the thumbs up.

‘’Alright then’’ Jun says , stands up and stretches himself.

With him standing there in that pose you notice how well build jun is which adds more to his attractiveness and your’e just a little bit envious on how good he looks.

Jun notices you looking at him with your head tilted and with a slight pout and raises an eyebrow.

‘’Do you work out to have a figure like that?’’ you ask

Jun lets his arm fall down and runs one hand through his long thick hair ‘’oh hell no, this job is already working me out ,going to a gym would kill me’’ he laughs ‘’its all genetics’’

‘’Oh’’ you hum ‘’you sure are blessed’’

jun strikes a ridiculous pose that probably a character from Jojo's bizarre would do ‘’i know right?’’

Shaking your head you laugh and turn to the others who are still in the living room  ‘’thank you for helping me unpack’’

A large hand lands on your shoulder and you turn your head to see sam smiling at you ‘’no problem , thank you for letting us into your house otherwise we'd be dead meat’’

‘’Lets go’’ Sam hollers and some of the movers come out to the hallway, you didn’t even notice them going into your bedroom.

‘’The bed is set up’’ The man standing at the entrance of the living room, says and gives you a big smile.

You smile and bow slightly in thanks and the movers slowly trickle out of your house .

‘’Dont forget to tune in to the  community radio, they often announce stuff from the city council’’ sam says as he standing in the doorway ‘’ but dont worry if you forget it will turn on itself’’ he laughs and you just furrow your brow.

As you bud him goodbye you notice another figure standing next to you and you turn your head to see jun.

''Hope you don’t mind that i ripped a paper off but heres my number, lets hang out or go shopping or something, i feel like we'd be good friends’’ Jun hands you a piece of paper

Usually you're not one to take numbers from men's, since a lot of them , if not almost all, have a hidden agenda.  Which you don’t feel that Jun currently has, the feeling you get from him is more of a theatrical person thats always dramatic. You know, like, laying in a field of roses after your crush got asked out by someone else- type of person.

Basically hilarious.

So you accept the small piece of paper and smile at him ‘’sure , i'll text you, might take a while though because i first have to get used to this place’’

‘’No problem’’ Jun waves his hand dismissively ‘’if you got any questions though just text me i'll help ya’’  and walks out of your house , waving his hand with a big smile on his face.

Chuckling slightly you close the door and walk down the hallway into your bedroom.

You truly are grateful that the movers helped you unpack and put your furniture together, because you really wouldn't know how to without getting confused because you're so bad at following instructions. Well its not like Ikea makes it easy to follow and they keep giving people extra assets that just end up frustrating everyone who buys the furniture

The big queen sized bed takes up most of the space in your room but you don’t mind that, at least you're able to have one not like when you used to live in the big city , where the apartments were narrow but expensive.

besides the bed and various boxes that contain clothes there really isn't anything in the bedroom yet. The emptiness makes you slightly uneasy and you're overcome with the feeling of panic and dread. It’s the type of emotion you get after the excitement and adrenaline is gone, your’e left with uneasiness and panic thats slowly seeping yet throbbing from your chest as if you have a hole where your heart is supposed to be. For whatever reason you feel like you're back to being 18, back to the kid who kept getting panic and anxiety attacks over everything,  back to the kid who never lived without a family , yet alone in  another city.

That emotion over comes you so strongly, that for a second you feel like the walls are closing on you and you're getting choked. You shake your head and slap your cheeks a few time, before letting your hands fall down and almost run into the bathroom.

You slam the door open and in two quick long strides you're standing in front of the sink. Your hands are trembling as you reach for the faucet and turn it. The water feels cold underneath your finger tips and you gather some of it onto your palms before leaning down and splashing it onto your face. The coolness of the water a little bit takes the panic away but its still lingering in your chest.

You step away from the sink and lower yourself to the floor ,where you wrap your arms around your legs with your head hanging between your knees. For the next 20 minutes you're slowly rocking yourself from side to side , while taking in deep regular breaths.  It’s a technique you learned online a while ago and has up to now proven to be useful.

As you finally have calmed down , you slowly get up from the floor and see your reflection in the mirror. Your hair is messy, sticking up in different directions, your complexion is slightly green, which you think has to do with the fluorescent lighting if anything, and you turn away.

You walk out of the bathroom, down the hallway back into your bedroom.  You open one of the boxes that has clothes written on it and take out a shirt. Not even bothering to look for pants , you get changed , open up another box that has the blanket and pillows inside, and throw them on the bed before getting onto it.  You remember that your phone fell earlier and lean down to pick it up, scroll through your podcast app before finally deciding on which episode to listen to. You put the phone right next to your head and just a few seconds later you're out like a light.

⤑ ⤑ ⤑ ⤑

Closing the door behind you , you take a deep breath. Yesterday night was , well to say, horrible. You've always had anxiety issues , not in the way that you have trouble talking to people or talk in public , its more that once you're left alone you get the so-called "what-next thoughts". Which always plays out the worst case scenario that could happen to you. Meaning you instantly realize how insignificant your existence is and that if you died right now, it would take weeks for anyone to notice. You've been getting help for that though. Before you moved to silverdell you doctor gave you a prescription so that you could get it refilled at the pharmacy.

which is where you're currently headed to. Silverdell is a beautiful town. Alongside the street there are trees ,which leafs already have turned brown and orange. The air is so crispy to the point where if it wasn’t so sunny you'd think it might snow at any time.

A breeze of cold air blows and you tighten the scarf around your neck. It’s getting close to the end of september and the streets already smells of cinnamon and mulled wine. As you're enjoying the view you notice a trail of kids running past you while giggling and shoving each other, and you smile.

You've always liked working with children, they hold a lot of freshness and innocence , live in their own little creative bubble , and yet are very understanding of a lot of things that parents be overreacting about. The only reason why they then later on sometimes turn out  to have a bad attitude / personality is because of the way they were raised. They subconsciously tend to soak the behaviors in their environment  ,up like sponges, not even realizing that those behaviors aren't socially acceptable. Thats why you became a teacher, to at least lead the kids in the right path but also protect them from the cruelty of the world and society.

Speaking of school, tomorrow will be your first day as a teacher in silverdell. You're slightly nervous but excited, you just hope that your coworkers are nice and not demons disguised as humans like at the last school you worked at.

You shake your head at that thought, you'll cross the bridge when you get to it.

‘‘god please let me find the pharmacy’‘ you silently pray and take out your phone , according to google maps its only a few meters away from you

Turning around the corner you finally arrive at the pharmacy. It’s a small white store that has mint colored decorations, you also spot various pot, plants, around the entrance that gives the store a welcoming feeling.  

Walking up to the entrance, you see that one of the plants is a cactus. When you arrive you bend down to inspect it. It’s a huge dark green cactus that has  multiple vertical lines going down the round figure with needles sticking out. At the top there is a hole, you're not really sure if its an actual hole or if its just an illusion that was created by the lighter color, but you see that there is where the most needles are gathered.

Out of curiosity and impulse you reach out and softly lay a finger on the plant, to which you are, to no ones surprise, stung by a needle. You straighten up while clutching your hand to your chest  and look at your hand. you press the finger together to see a tiny drop of blood coming out of the wound and sigh.

Shaking your head you let your arm fall down, give the plant a last glance before entering the pharmacy.

At the counter stands a woman that seems to be in her forties. Her hair is tied into a braid with stray strands framing her face that has a warm yet gentle expression on as she works on some documents.

She lifts up her head as the little door bell rings for the second time when the door closes behind you.

‘’Oh my’’ She says with a surprised expression ‘’are you new in town?’’

''Is it that obvious?'' you ask bashfully and walk up to the counter

‘’Not at all dear’’ she smiles ‘’its just that this town is quite small so we all know each other, but anyways how may i help you?’’

‘’Right’’ you answer and take out the prescription from your wallet and hand it to her, alongside with your insurance card ‘’i need a refill of my medication’’

‘’Coming right up’’, she takes the card from you, puts it on the table before disappearing in the backroom.

You look around while waiting for her to come back, the inside of the store is just as lovely as the outside. The walls are stacked with various medicine but you notice the same minty color peeking out behind the shelves. The air is very clean, almost biting with the disinfectant still lingering in the air, and for a moment you regret forgetting to take your mouth mask with you. Its not like you're asthmatic but strong smells usually give you a migraine , and using a mask usually helps to dull it down to a slow throbbing.

‘’Here we go’’ The pharmacist says while walking back to the counter, scans your insurance card and furrows her brows as she looks at the computer display.

‘’Is something wrong?’’ you ask. You've paid your insurance bill so there shouldn't be any problem but sometimes the card doesn't function or doesn't get accepted by the pharmacy and you really hope that that isn't the case today.

‘’Oh no no’’ the pharmacist laughs ‘’i just forgot to wear my contact lenses today so i had a bit of trouble reading the display’’

you sigh in relief

‘’But’’ she continues ‘’i just saw that your doctor has written in the data that these medications have to be taken continuously’’ she hands you back your card and the medications. ‘’if they're finished just come back and i will refill them again’’

‘’will do’’ you answer and put the medication into your purse, bid the nurse goodbye and walk out of the store.

The minute you're out of the pharmacy you stop in your tracks. You're not sure if you just imagined that but when you bid her goodbye her smile looked weirdly large for her face and for a second you thought you saw branches ,that looked like antlers ,growing out of her head.

Slowly you turn back and see the pharmacist, typing something on the computer looking normal and you furrow your brows, turn back to the road.

‘’What in the hell’’you mutter and continue walking towards the mall thats quite close to the drug store.

.....

As you're walking past various stores, an unimaginable stench makes it way to you and the urge to vomit is so strong that you slam your hand to your mouth and turn away for a second. The odor is one of a corpse decaying, well you don’t actually know what a corpse smells like but you're pretty sure it would be similar to this.

Turning around you face the way you were talking towards too and frown. On the left side of the building stands in bold red, almost blood like, letters '' Gregs Butchery''

''They weren't wrong about the smell '' you think and hurriedly walk, no  run past the building into the big grocery store thats two stores away from the flower shop and the ''butchery''

The grocery store is just like any other.  Worn out regals stacked against the washed out yellow walls ,while in the background a remix of an eighties city funk song plays.

‘’God that was disgusting’’ you mumble and wipe your mouth with the sleeve of your hoodie. You take out your phone and reach over to the stack of baskets thats right next to you, and take one.

looking at the shoppings list you made in the notes app , you subconciously bite your lip and walk further into the store.

...............

You're looking at your phone again, not for notifications or anything, just checking if the items in the basket match the ones on the list. Which they do ,but you have a feeling that you earlier forgot to write down something important that you need but cant remember what it is.

‘’garbage bags?’’ you mumble ‘’no i - ouf-’’ With all the thinking you're doing you aren't even paying attention to your surroundings and walked straight into something, or somebody.

You take a step back and rub your nose thats stinging slightly '' my bad'' and look up. The first thing you see is black, a black thats so dark where if someone shone a flashlight at, whatever is in front of you, the light would not be reflected. It’s almost as if the void has manifested itself somehow in this shop. The second thing you notice is that the being standing in front of you has the thousand upon thousands of branch like looking bones growing out of it , how you even missed something so grotesque looking, is baffling , but then again this is you we're talking about.

The being turns its body around and you see that its face is empty of facial features. Theres not even a slight dent or shadow of a nose or mouth that could indicate that it’s wearing a mask. Slowly the creature tilts is head, almost as if it’s wondering why you approached it, and leaves without a word.

Not like it could say anything without a mouth anyways

You on the other hand have already astral projected into another dimension.This whole interaction is so surreal to you, that for a second for a second you think you're on mtv's candid camera show, and that this whole thing is just a set up.  

You come back to your senses when you feel a hand on your arm and jerk in surprise.

‘’dazed ain’t you?'' the woman next to you chuckles ‘’everyone is when they see they see an angel for the first time’’

‘’Huh?'' you turn your head towards the woman and blink a couple of times  ‘’excuse me , a what now?’’ She’s a plump 5′2 tall woman with amber skin and undercut and a gummy smile that makes her eyes disappear into crescent forms when she laughs. On the other side of her’s shes holding a hand of a roughly ten year old child thats boredly starring into nothingness , probably waiting for her mother to finish so that they can go home.

The fact though, that she called the ominous being an angel is baffling because to you it looks more like something that jumped out of h.p lovecrafts book.

‘’An angel’’ she shakes her head ‘’they're very nice, they always help me with any chores or escort luna home, and despite the fact that theyve lived here forever people still ignore their existence’’

‘’but thats not how angels look?’’ you quietly retort not wanting to seem disrespectful

The  woman chuckles again and pats you on the arm ‘’what you know as angels is what society taught you with no actual evidence of them ever looking like that’’

''But the bible-''

‘’The bible described them as terrifying which they are’’ she points at the angel thats at the counter waiting for the cashier to ring their stuff up, which he isn’t cause when you look closer you see that the magazine the cashier is holding is slightly crumpled and shaking , probably out of fear.

‘’also it has been translated into other languages so many times that by now half of was originally was written is lost in translation’’ she continues

You tilt your head ‘’so basically everything i know is a lie?’’

‘’No no, not everything is just that in this town, the laws of nature and society don’t apply’’

Great, what type of town did you move into. Yesterdays fiasco was already weirder than anything you've experienced and you kinda swept it under the rug. but this? this is something that even a skyscraper cant hide, and obviously the emotions you're feeling  shows on your face because the black woman bursts out laughing.

‘’Im sorry’’ you apologize flustered not wanting to offend her and come off as uptight

‘’No need to apologize’’'' she says and waves her hand ‘’newcomer’s reaction are always funny to watch but you're the first one who didn’t run away’’

''yeah one day that will be the death of me'' you think and smile wryly at her.

‘’I have to go’’ the woman continues ‘’try to greet the angels once in a while ,theyre harmless’’

You give her a tight lipped smile and nod. The woman chuckles for the last time and walks off , towards the angel whose still at the counter apparently waiting for her to come pay since the cashier is still ignoring the being.

You shake your head and sigh again, glance back to the counter for the last time before proceeding with grocery shopping.

⤑ ⤑ ⤑ ⤑

‘’We're so glad to have you in our team’’ the dean says as you're walking down the school hallway. The dean is a elderly short baldheaded man with round glasses. He's wearing a suit thats a little baggy on him but it gives him character. He kind of reminds you of popeye but with a softer , creakier voice.

It took you some time to find the school, since google maps seems to not always work it took which gave you the same problem you had yesterday  when you were looking for the pharmacy. You'd think for such a small town it would be found easily , which it wasn't because it took you around forty minutes to find the facility. Its located on the other side of the town, which in your opinion is just unethical and slightly annoying.

Whoever the founder was of silverdell clearly wasn't thinking logically, it would be way more proficient if the school was in in the middle where it would take the same amount of time for anyone to reach it

‘’I'm excited to be working here’’ you reply and smile down at the dean who just, not chuckles but makes a similar sound to it.

‘’Let me introduce you to the other teachers’’ he says as you two come to stop in front of a dark wooded door and opens it.

The room is pretty normal. Various abstract drawings are hanging on the eggshell white walls giving the place a slightly modern feeling. In the middle of the room theres a long table placed along side with books and other items. On the left side, the side you're actually standing in, is a small kitchen that has a coffee machine and freshly washed cup and glasses.

‘’Oh?’’ a honey voice speaks up and you turn your head to the person you think it came from. ‘’Who do we have here?''

The voice that you just heard belongs to possible one of the most beautiful human beings you have ever seen in your life. He has midnight black hair where one side is falling into his face while the other side is slicked back. Thick plump lips that are stretched into a smile ,revealing a row of pearly white teeth. He's not particularly tall, you're pretty sure you're taller than him but then again you're taller than most women, but you see from the outfit he's wearing he's well build.

Honestly he's so beautiful its like god took his sweet time making him, plus he's sending you a smile thats so bright you want to shield your eyes, it’s like you're looking at the sun.

‘’Didn’t hear that there would be someone new’’ another low voice speaks up and your eyes wander to the person thats standing right next to him. He's a tall man that looks around your age with strawberry blonde dyed hair, thats slightly hanging in his face. He has a strong yet straight nose and thin lips alongside with big doe eyes that makes him look even younger than he already is. You already have the feeling that out of the two, he's the slicker one.

The black haired boy stretches his hand towards you ‘’i’m Park jimin''

You take his hand into yours and for a second you notice how long your fingers are compared to his but thats ought to happen with your height. ‘’Y/n’’ you retort and give him a firm shake before letting his hand go.

‘’Jeon jungkook’’ The strawberry blonde man says not even bothering to shake your hand as he's preoccupied with twirling the volleyball on his finger like a basketball.

Jimin just sighs at Jungkook’s retort, turns around and slaps the ball off ‘’we're not in college anymore where are your manners?’’ he scolds

Seeing Jungkook's expression you hold your laughter in. His lips are pursed but the look in his eyes sell him out that he's planning to pull a prank on the shorter man. Obviously jimin notices the look and slaps him on the arm to which jungkook just grins before turning around to you with an outstretched hand

‘’Again'' he starts ''i’m Jeon Jungkook ''

you nod ‘’nice to meet you’’

''Which class are you teaching?'' Jimin asks and crosses his arms

''1A'' The dean speaks up and you jump in surprised. You didn’t even notice him joining you three with a cup of coffee in his hand. ‘’speaking of’’ he continues and turns towards you'' classes start soon i hope you understood everything but if you have questions don’t be afraid to ask mister Park and mister Jeon.’’

Jimin and Jungkook both smile at you and you nod ‘’will do’’

‘’Alright then’’ Jimin says and yawns ‘’1A is right next to my classroom i'll show you the way’’

‘’Thanks’’ you smile, bid the dean and jungkook goodbye before leaving the breakroom.

‘’Are you nervous?’’ Jimin asks as he's walking next to you down the hallway

''More excited'' you answer ‘’i’m good with kids but i just hope everything goes okay’’

Jimin turns his head ‘’you just moved here right? what do you think of silverdell?’’

carefully you mull over your words, not sure if its appropriate or too soon to tell him about the supernatural beings and weird customs that you've come across. ‘’it will take some time for me to get used to this town’’ you answer him instead.

Jimin laughs, a laugh that sounds like angels are singing and you smile too ‘’well thats to be expected, but don’t worry everyone settles down pretty quick'' He stops in front of a classroom. ''this is 1A, i’m right next door if you need something’’ and bids you goodbye.

The classroom is just like any normal middle school classroom is supposed to look like. Since it’s not the start of a new school year, you see that the decorations on the wall probably were made by the students and you smile.

You walk up to the teachers desk thats right by the window and put your bag down and take your items out. You're so lost in your thoughts as you organize the your items on the table you don’t even hear the bell ring.

The sound of the door slamming against the wall and the chatter of high pitched voices rip you out of your thoughts and you look up to see students walking into the classroom. At the sight of you at the desk they stop in their tracks and whisper to each other.

‘’Good morning’’ you greet them and some greet you back while others just nod in silence as they walk towards their desks. After all the students are sitting at their desk you walk to the blackboard and write your name on it.

‘’'I'm your new teacher’’ you turn around and face the students ‘’i just recently moved here from the city and i have to say i’m surprised in how much greener it is here, meaning we could once go hiking in the forest’’  you clap your hands together

The moment those words leave your mouth the entire classroom gets quiet. The eyes of the kids are almost glued to you in a creepy way, the expressions on their faces are kind of empty.

A chubby boy with black hair raises his hand ‘’ma'am no one ever goes into the forest’’

Oh boy , this is exactly what you feared, that the kids would be just as weird about the town as the adults are. So instead you give them a tight lipped smile ‘’why?’’

‘’Because the monsters will eat you’’ another student says , the tone indicating that you should already know about the taboo.

‘’Or the headless rider’’ the same chubby boy finishes.

This is the third time you're hearing about the headless rider. His existence still makes no sense to you, how can everyone be afraid of him and tell horrible tales on how he kills humans but yet no one has actually ever interacted with the said being.

‘’Marissa did see the headless rider once’’ a girl speaks up and almost every student turns around to look at her with a scornful expression on their face.

''Whose Marissa?'' you ask and tilt your head.

‘’Someone that has turned into a memory’’ the girl from earlier answers, whom you recognize to be the daughter of the woman from the store you met few days ago. Just like her mom she has brown skin, dark hair and intelligent looking eyes, that seem to know way too much than what a ten year old should know.

‘’Alright then’’ you clap your hands together to get the attention of the students ‘’lets play two truths and a tale to break the ice so i'll get to know you better.’’

⤑ ⤑ ⤑ ⤑

‘’Goodbye ma'am''! the chubby boy, who's name you learned is Evan, says and waves as he leaves the classroom.

‘’Bye!’’ you smile and wave back. The moment the door slams shut your hand instantly falls down and you sigh deeply. ''Well that was a train wreck'' you think and gather the books together and walk over to the regal thats by the wall and put them in neatly. You walk back to your desk pick up your bag not before flickering the light off and walk out of the classroom.

As you're walking down the hallway you see a tiny baldheaded figure that couldn't belong to anyone else but the dean. Who apparently saw you coming because he stops walking and wait for you to catch up to him.

''Y/n'' he greets cheerfully '' how was your first lesson?''

''Good evening'' you greet back '' it was good actually'' you finish. The dean just chuckles and starts walking down the hallway with you following him.

‘’say’’ you start ‘’what happened to Marissa?’’

The dean turns his head to face you, anger mixed with fear clouds his eyes for a second before returning back to normal ''someone thats better not to be spoken of if you don’t want anything happen to you'' he answers.

At the ominous answer the hairs on your neck raise and you resist the urge to take a step back. The way he worded it its like the town will kill anyone who questions their traditions or goes against the rules, plus his whole demeanor screams that you shouldn't ask any more questions.

''A-alright'' you stammer and the dean sends you a tight lipped smile in return.

'' The dean turns around in the doorway he’s standing in ‘’i'll see you tomorrow’’

‘’Have a nice evening’’ you reply and bow slightly. When the door slams shut you sigh and put a hand on your chest, feeling the rapid heartbeat underneath your fingertips. You adjust the bag strap on your shoulder and walk down the hallway towards the entrance and out of the facility.

When you're outside you notice that the shun is already starting to set. That isn't surprising considering that its fall and the days are getting shorter but at the same time that means that you'll either have to hurry back home since the sun sets around at five pm. The other option would be you waiting at school till the coast is clear but considering todays conversation you0d like to spend as little time as possible with the dean. Especially since now it seems that he's keeping an eye out on you.

You shake your head and look up at the sky.Azure blue has now turned into spectacular colors of orange and red mixed with purple, its so beautiful that you take out your phone and take a picture of it. Satisfied with how the picture turned out you send it to your mom and put it back into your pocket.

‘’I should buy a bike’’ you mumble and continue to walk home.

..............

''Hey mom'' you greet your mother and wipe your hands on the towl thats hanging at the wall right by the kitchen sink.

‘’Y/nn dear are you alright?’’ your mother asks loudly sounding frantic.

You grimace and hold the phone away from your ear ‘’i am, why did something happen?’’

‘’What do you mean? , you sent me that ominous picture with no text whatsoever nor did you call me ever since you arrived at wherever you are’’ you mom rants

You know your mom has only your best interests at heart, ever since she found out about your anxiety it’s like she herself developed it too with how much she worries about you being alone. Which on one hand is reassuring but on the other you're already twenty eight and kind of need to venture out in the world on your own.

''ominous picture? what are you talking about? i sent you a picture of a sunset'' you retort and furrow your brows

‘’sunset?’’ your mom's voice pitches up a few octaves ‘’all i got was a picture of a black cracked background with the letters '' if you did, you wished you didn't’’

‘’oh go-’’

‘’and where are you?’’ your mom continues ‘’iv’e googled the town name but nothing showed up, i even asked my coworkers and no one knows about silverdell’’

''Silverdell has a mind on its own, no one can know about it or leave and come as they want without its approval''

you grimace, hoping that whatever Sam said was just some good o'l superstition ,but up to now  with everything that you have experienced, it looks like thats not the case

‘’mom seriously i’m safe, i’m not being held hostage by some mobster or anything like that, why it doesn’t show up on google though i don’t know.’’ you say , trying to calm her down. Theres no way you're going to tell her about the towns strangeness , knowing how she is she'd probably get into her car while she's talking to you and drive off, ending up lost in the middle of nowhere.

Your mother hums on the other side of the phone, by the tone of it you know that she's not fully convinced but will believe you for now. She then continues to talk about her annoying coworker, thats always trying to one upper her in everything and how she wants to screw her head off.

While she's rambling off you're finishing drying the dishes and put the back in the cupboard, occasionally humming in agreement to let her know that you're still listening. Reaching over you take the other towel and dry your hands, put it back on the wall before turning towards the living room. You notice that the blinds are still open and a wave of panic comes over you. you dash over to the other room, of course not without you stumbling over furniture, and quickly close the blinds.

Your heart is beating wildly against your ribcage and it takes you a second to calm down.

''Sweetie are you okay?'' your moms voice comes out of the phone that you’re still holding

‘’uhm yeah!’’ you heave ‘’just stumbled, fell almost on my face’’

your mother sighs deeply ‘’you were always the clumsy one’’ and you just chuckle. Though it quickly fades as you start hearing noises coming from the ceiling. your eyes widen and you jerk your head upwards . The dull sound of something similar to heavy footsteps becomes louder and louder and you furrow your brows. ''are they trying to break my roof?'' you ask yourself and hold the phone closer to your ear.

‘’Mom let me call you back, someones knocking no the door’’ you interrupt your mother, hoping that she doesn't hear your voice shaking.

‘’sure’’ she reluctantly answers ‘’'i'll talk to you later, and remember call the police if something fishy is up’’

‘’Will do’’ you say and hang up ‘’ the police might not help in this situation''

You jump when you hear the static of the radio ripping, slowly you turn around and tilt your head sideways. ''Did you just turn on by yourself?'' you ask out loud , but the radio doesn’t answer instead it continues to flip through channels until you hear a familiar voice coming out of the speakers.

''dear listeners we just received a report stating that  the roof inspectors have already begun their work, we would like to remind you to leave a plate of cookies or milk with honey on the porch as a thank you gift. Another reminder would be that you should absolutely not look directly at the workers as they like to be unknown to the public. Not meeting the criteria will have consequences''

''They like to be private?'' the voice you recognize to be yoongi asks '' we're literally broadcasting this to every citizen in silverdell ,how is that private? on top of that they want food'

Hoseok laughs nervously ''lets not trash talk about the roof inspectors ''

''Or what? they're going to break in and kill me?''

''That are dangerous words yoongi'' hoseok chokes out

''Oh don’t give me that look, i’m not planning to have a chat with them all im saying is that its suspicious''  yoongi exclaims

''maybe so but you should know better than to voice out your thoughts considering we're on live broadcast''

You have a sneaking suspicion that that warning is towards you, maybe its just you being paranoid but the sounds coming from the ceiling sound almost impatient? agitated? you're not sure and you don't want to find out.

So you venture back into the kitchen, open the cupboard and take out a plate and a glass. Fill the plate with chocolate chip cookie, not sure if your choice of cookies will fit their taste you reach into the fridge to take out milk. Pour three spoons full of honey into the glass and mix it up all together. You take out a tray, put the dishes onto it and slowly walk to the front door of the house.

Putting down the tray you unlock the door and slowly open it, praying that whatever is making the noise isn't standing in front of your door. Of course mother nature ignores your plea, because nothing ever goes the way you want it to and you stumble back at the sight.

In front of you dangling from the lowest part of the rooftop edge  hangs a long arm that has white fur on it, which lowkey looks like it belongs to a yeti. Its fingers, if you can even call them that, stretch out like its impatiently waiting for you to hand it the tray. With shaky fingers you pick up the tray, avert your eyes and hand it to the worker, trying to not touch it.

It takes the tray from you, makes a sound that could be described as a mixture of a growl and grunt and vanishes.

With wide eyes and a rapid beating heart you close the door and clutch your chest '' what the absolute fuck?!'' you whisper and run to the kitchen.

There you grab the salt and a chair before returning to the front door,  sprinkle salt along at the gap and barricade it by putting the back of the chair underneath the doorknob. Sure the inspector might be able to kill you and you doubt that a little bit of barricade will hold it back but it sure as hell makes your anxious self feel safer.

Quietly you walk down the hallway and switch off the light, before walking into your bedroom and locking the door, hoping that tonight you'll at least be able to sleep.

⤑ ⤑ ⤑ ⤑

‘’Jimin’’ you call out .

Jimin who's sitting at the table reading a book ,that looks like if you tried reading it it would fry the remaining braincells you have, looks up with raised eyebrows. ‘’yes?’’

‘’So’’ you drawl out ‘’i sent a picture of the sunset to someone and apparently the picture they got was different from what the original one, do you know whats up with that?’’

Jimin leans back in the chair and runs a hand through his hair ‘’ honestly we've been having this problem for a few months now, the after school science club is trying to figure out what the problem is.’’

You raise your eyebrows ‘’the who?’’

Jimin waves his hand dismissively '' thats their name don’t ask me how they got it, but they’re really smart though and have saved silverdell many times when we were in a pinch’’'

‘’well did they find out at least something?’’

‘’not really’’ jimin puts a hand on his chin ‘’we just know that silverdell is putting out some sort of high frequented waves that interferes with the phone, theres a theory that it doesn’t want people outside of silverdell knowing about it.’’

The expression on your face currently can be described as one of pure listlessness. Mentally you already clocked out days ago, but mother nature or as in this case; silverdell has it's way of surprising you. Sighing deeply you put one hand on the table and lean against it

‘’you know’’ you start’’ when i first moved here i was in love with the idea of a small town where the environment is beautiful, the people are nice'' you move your arm in a half circle motion ‘’not this’’

‘’How is that our problem’’ a voice says and you turn around to see jungkook leaning against the door frame.

‘’Jungkook!'' jimin scolds and frowns

‘’What?'' jungkook asks and pushes himself away from the door '' isn't that her fault for having high ass expectations? weren't you suspicious that you couldn't find silverdell?’’

‘’In my defense’’ you bristle  ‘’i just thought i was bad with directions ,who would've thought that its because this town is located in the twilight zone’’

Jimin and jungkook both chuckle at that ‘’hats what a lot of newcomers say’’

Picking up the empty cup of coffee you retort '' well maybe something needs to be changed so we don’t all keep repeating the same thing'' and walk over to the sink.

⤑ ⤑ ⤑ ⤑

Its been over a month since you've moved to silverdell. You somehow got used to the weird customs of the town and nowadays you're not even fazed by the angel's anymore. on the contrary you sometimes let the angel's carry your grocery home or you when they don’t fit on the basket of the bike. In the beginning you were quite shocked and afraid ,when the ominous being stood in front of you and reached out of the bag. Which resulted in you screaming out loud in horror thinking that you're going to die. It took one staff member to calm you down , which took quite some time because apparently the angel didn’t realize that you were scared of it , and kept starring at you as if you had the answer to the Da Vinci code.

⤑ ⤑ ⤑ ⤑

‘’I forgot to tell you , you did well today’’ The woman, miss lewis, whose standing at the door says smiling brightly and leaves.

Todays parent teacher conference day and you just had your first meeting. You're so glad that instead of a soccer mom who has a blonde bob and a nasty attitude you got miss lewis. Maybe she noticed that you were nervous otherwise because her whole presence was reassuring. From the smile to her body language nothing indicated that she was being hostile and you look forward to working with her in the future.

Gathering the documents on the table you put them aside and take out another one that has all the information about your student named calypso. Calypso is a smart girl with a peppy attitude and a mouth that can talk forever, yet she never disturbed the class and always hands in her homework so this meeting should be short and go well.

As you're standing up from the chair, the door slams open and you jerk in surprise, letting out an embarrassing squeak. Looking over to the door your’e see a tall woman slumped against the doorway as she's clutching her chest and breathing heavily. The woman is dressed in a black suit and the first button of her white dress shirt is open. Her black hair is cut into a blunt bob with bangs that stop right by the eyes.

‘’I hope i’m not late’’ she heaves

You shake your head and smile ‘’ don’t worry you came just in time''

The unknown woman nods and walks towards you and you notice that she's almost as tall as you are. ''Min yoonji i’m luna’s mother, nice to meet you’’

‘’Y/n’’ you say and take her hand into yours ‘’ and likewise’’

‘’My wife had an emergency so i had to run from work here’’ Yoonji says and sits down

You put a hand on your cheek ‘’i hope its nothing serious’’

Yoonji waves her hand in front of her face ‘’she's just clumsy , i hope she doesn’t’ burn down the kitchen again though’’

You hold your laughter in and turn your head away, not knowing if it’s appropriate to laugh or not but the fact that Yoonji said the word ‘’ again’’ makes it even more comical.

When you hear Yoonji chuckle is when you turn your head back towards her and see her smiling faintly and you can see how much she loves her wife.

‘’So lets get started’’ you say and clear your throat ‘’luna is a very smart student who up to now has always done her homework’’

Yoonji nods

‘’She participates in class , i see no behavioral problems besides her sometimes making remarks towards her friends.’’ you smile and so does Yoonji ‘’what i did notice though is that when it comes to math her way of calculating slightly differs from what i teach her but that can be managed’’

you put the notes down ‘’this would be all, do you have any questions?’’

Yoonji claps her hand together ‘’not a question per se but my wife and i would like to be notified if the class is going on a school trip’’

You nod '' thats mandatory otherwise i wouldn’t be allowed to leave the school ground with the students''

Yoonji then picks up her bag and stands up with you following her actions.

‘’if later on you have any question please feel free to call me or mail me’’ you say and stretch out your hand

Yoonji shakes your hand firmly nods. She opens her mouth to say something but the noise of the classroom door slamming against the wall interrupts her. In the doorway stands a woman that looks ,well to put it nice, like the wicked witch of the west's third sister.

oh boy

‘’Hope you have a nice evening’’ Yoonji says through gritted teeth and lets go of your hand before walking towards the door and giving the other woman a nasty glare.

The woman totally ignores yoonji and walks towards you instead, a scowl on her face as she musters you ‘’cant be even on time huh? did they hire a incompetent teacher this time?’’

You raise your eyebrows, it takes everything in your body for you to not glare at this atrocity of a human being in front of you ‘’actually ma'am you're just early theres a reason why we agreed for you to come at a specific time’’

She just huffs '' well i don’t have the time because i have to pick up Charles in twenty minutes from fencing’’

''why don’t we start then'' you say and point at the table, before sitting down

well looks like it will take longer than twenty minutes.''

..............

After the conference is over you collect the documents and put them on in the drawer. Getting up you look out of the window and see that the sun is already setting and a wave of stress overcomes you. Picking up your bag from the floor you speed walk out of the classroom, not before flickering the light off, and almost run down the hallway towards the entrance of the building.

Thankfully the parking lot for the bikes isn't that far away from the main entrance and you quickly get  onto it and pedal. The sky is already deep red and you can see that in around five to ten minutes it will be completely gone.

You're pedaling so fast that everything is a blur to you, how you haven’t fallen yet is a miracle because lord knows , that everything that could go wrong in a situation , usually does, when it comes to you.

''am i going to make it?'' you ask yourself and sharply cut the corner. Down the road you see a vast grass field and wonder if you should take a shortcut or not. But driving on the grass usually slows one down .but at the same time you cant afford to lose your life just because you aren't on time.

So you drive through the field instead. It only takes a few seconds before your legs become tired of pedaling so hard, to the point where you jump from the bike , hold the handlebar and run.  A few times the bike smacks itself against you but you don’t feel pain due to the adrenaline running through your veins.

Looking at the bike you see that it’s just dragging you down and it literally takes you a second to make a decision. Letting go of the bike makes your heart clench but you continue to run for you life till you finally leave the field and arrive on the street your house is on.

You heave as you take a three second break before continuing to jog down the road. The closer you get to your house though the more everything starts to flicker. Its like reality stopped functioning and your’e in a glitch. Looking around confused you almost stop in your tracks when you see a figure sitting on a black horse thats standing on the opposite side of the street, linear to your house. Its the Headless rider, his body turns towards you ,as black smoke comes out of the cut off neck and forms a question mark.

Your heart drops and your hand comes up shielding the left side of your face and you run even faster before jumping over the fence towards your house

With shaky hands you take out the keys from your purse and open the door before slamming it behind you. Sliding down to the floor you hug your knees as a wave of panic over comes you. You're about 99.9999.2% sure you're about to die today. Theres no way you're going to survive now that the headless rider has noticed you.

With shaky legs you walk into your bedroom and lock the door, praying to every god thats out there that they will bless you with divine protection and that if you do die , it will be at least painful.

⤑ ⤑ ⤑ ⤑

its been two days since you saw the headless rider. To your surprise you actually woke up the next day and on top of that without any injuries, even your house is unscathed! Yet for some reason you cant help but feel like someone has been following you ever since. Its like you keep seeing something flimsy out of the corner of your eye, but its never really in your field of vision.

''im just being paranoid'' you think and grip the bag tighter as you walk out of the grocery store. It’s almost midnight but you were craving some sweets and ramen noodles so of course you went out and bought them.

You're so lost in thoughts that you don’t even notice the tall figure standing in front of you and promptly walk into them. The person, if you can even call them that cause the body is so hard it feels like you walked into a wall, grips your shoulder and steadies you.

'’You rub your nose ''thank-’’ the words die on your tongue as you look up and see that its the headless rider. Now that your’e closer to him you see that his skin is glowing slightly green giving him a frankensteins monster type of look and that his hands are long yet bony.  The smoke moves in slow motion as it comes out of his head and you feel sick to the point of needing to vomit.

‘’Have you seen my head?’’  an ominous voice booms through your skull so loud that you push the headless rider away and clutch your head instead, You just know you'll have a migraine later on.

you look up ‘’can you please try to not scream in my head?’’

''My apologies '' the being says

Slowly you stand up and rub your temples ‘’i haven’t seen your head, i wouldn’t even know how it looks like’’ you turn around and with shaky legs take a step before an arm grabs you. The feeling of dread overcomes you instantly.  His hand is so cold that it seeps through your jacket into your body and you shudder. ''is this what harry potter felt when he was around dementors?''

''Help me find it''  he says , no, demands.

‘’please stop touching me first’’ you manage to say without stuttering and he releases your arm.

‘’What would happen if i refuse?’’

''You don’t want to know'' he answers and you shudder. with the way his neck is leaning sideways you can almost see how if he had a head he'd be cocking it and waiting for your reply, what expression he would have on you can say though.

Between choosing to go with him and come back unscathed or being hunt down and killed by him and other creatures, its only logical that you chose to go with him.

‘’Alright'’’ you say and hold up the bag higher ‘’can i bring this home first though?’’

The headless rider points at the convenient store ''you can also just ask them to put it aside for you''

You furrow your eyebrows at that suggestion ‘’sure..’’ and squint at him. For someone so inhuman he sure does have a suspicious amount of knowledge of how humans work. ‘’ill be right back’’  and walk off

The little bell rings as you walk through the doors and the cashier raises her head ‘’good-’’ the word dies on her tongue as she she's you walking towards her. Her face completely pales and her eyes grow as big as saucers.

00would you be so nice and deposit this for me? an emergency came up and i cant go home right now’’ you ask with a wry smile and she nods . With shaky hand she takes the bag and puts it right behind her on the counter and gives you something thats supposed to look like a smile if it weren't masked with fear.

‘’thank you'' you say , turn around and walk out of the store. What you don’t see is the cashier's eyes following you until she sees you stopping in front of someone else and showing them your empty hands. The other figure nods and you both walk off . In panic mode she grabs the telephone and frantically dials a number, cussing under her breath as she’s waiting for the person to pick up. after the fifth ring she finally hears a click going through the phone and she speaks up

‘’He has her’’

⤑ ⤑ ⤑ ⤑

Standing on the outskirts of the forest you look at the direction where the houses are located ‘’am i hearing sirens?’’ you ask out loud. From what you can see theres no where a house burning, so that either means someone is dying or that there is someone about to give birth

''Not important for us'' the headless rider says and puts a hand on the small of your back. ''let's go'' he says and pushes you forward into the woods.

The forbidden forest is nothing like you imagined, as a matter of fact you don’t even know what you expected but not this.The trees are so close to each other that you can only see the occasional streak of moonlight peaking through through the thick fog. Yet that doesn’t provide enough light for your eyes because you stumble over a root thats twisting on the floor.

Before your face can make contact with so said floor ,the headless rider grabs you by the arm and yanks you up.

''be careful '' he says '' shedding blood will only cause the creatures to come after you''

‘’jesus christ thanks’’ you retort and peel off his fingers ‘’by the way do you have a name? i dont want to keep calling you ''you''’’

the voice hums in your head '' a long time ago i did'' he answers '' a human once used to call me taehyung''

‘’Okay i'll call you that then’’ you say and look up to him ‘’another question though , were you once a human?’’

A deep sound that can be described as a chuckle rumbles from his chest ''never , i’ve been like this since the beginning ''

‘’ou yikes’’  you slap a hand to your mouth , you cant believe you just said that out loud ‘’sorry’’

''it's alright''

You nod and turn around to continue to look at the environment. Theres a dampness alongside with this weird feeling hanging in the air, it ripples on your skin like water making, all the hairs on your arm and neck stand up. This place might have once been full of animals roaming around, but right now its so eerie and empty ,you feel like if depression could manifest itself into something it would be this forest.

You grab Taehyung by the arm and you both stop. looking up, your eyes widen and blood leaves your face. Above you hovering are hooded figures with long boney limps. Their garment fluttering in the non existent wind yet they look so serene , almost as if they're taking a nap. But the longer you stare the more the figures seems to draw in closer

''don’t look at them'' Taehyung's voice rings through your head '' they feed on human souls and with each second passing a piece of your soul gets chipped away''

''Couldn’t you have told me that sooner''  you hiss and grip his arm tighter to the point that your finger nails leave half moon dents in his jacket.

''do not talk any louder, we're not the only ones here'' he warns you instead and you shut your mouth. With every step you're taking you're cursing at the gods and mostly at yourself. You can already hear your mother screaming in horror if she knew what you're doing. She'd probably lecture you about going with a stranger to the forest saying that that is the number one place for murderers to bury their victims bodies and how she raised you to know better.

''Sorry mom''

Taehyung pushes the leaves of the bush aside to reveal a glade. Its surrounded by trees as tall as cathedrals and a strange green light - almost holy - shimmers through the vast canopy of leaves.Giving you the impression that you're underwater. Deafening silence lays over the land and you feel like you're in a video game about to defeat a mid level demon boss.

''where are we going?'' you whisper to taehyung

''the place where all creatures go at sunset''

you furrow your brow ‘’and why do you need me for that?''

thats where my head is buried at for some unknown reason they’ve always been drawn to it, though it has a protective shield that nonhuman being cant enter''

your voice raises a few octaves as you realize that this is a part of his scheme  ‘’did you just lure me into this place so that you can kill me? Don’t tell me you don't actually need my help, you just wanted to eat me because i look what; appetizing to you?’’

Taehyung lifts his hands and one covers your mouth while the other slam chokes you against the bark of a tree ‘’you think very highly of yourself human'' he hisses '' but i do need it and after i received my head i could also leave you here ,since your so adamant about making our location known to every single living organism''

A branch breaks in the background and Taehyung lets go of you.  choking ,you slump against the tree, as you try to get air into your lungs and look up through your teary eyes. Behind taehyung stands a huge creature that looks similar to the angels that usually help you with chores. But unlike the friendly them, this creature looks like it's out for blood. Its mouth opens and a foul smell , that reminds you of corpses and rotting food, waves over to the two of you and you feel sick.

A scream bubbles its way up your throat and before it can leave your mouth , taehyung picks you up bridal style and starts running. Wrapping your arms around his neck, you close your eyes and just hope that he's faster than the creature and that you aren't about to meet your demise

Minutes later he stops and you open your eyes to see that you're on  the top of a hill. Getting out of taehyung's arms with shaky legs you look around.

‘’Wow’’ you say in awe, amazed by how much the forest changes the further you go into it.

You see a river passing through the jungle wide and opaque. The water is so black it might as well be used as a mirror and for a second you're tempted to walk down and touch it .Yet you know better. The river is a sleeping cobra, It lies across the land in smooth seductive curves, singing an unknown song to its viewer, while it hides a myriad of dangers.

The forest seems to have an intelligence of its own, you notice.  An apparent system thats so complex no human would understand, yet it doesn't seem like it would work anywhere else but  here.

A sudden shrill noise, that possibly belongs to the earlier creature, echoes through the forest,  before it quietly settles, and suddenly it feels like a thousand eyes are boring into your back.

They know you're here

''Lets go'' Taehyung says and walks ,no, jogs down the hill.

‘’why don’t you just pick me up and run like you did earlier?'' you ask '' that would be faster''

Taehyung doesn’t need a face for you to know that he's complete done with you for using your three braincells over its capacity ''that would attract too much attention''

‘’You glow green for fucks sake’’ you call out and point at him ‘’we might as well be wearing a big ass sign that says ‘free food’’ 

Taehyung turns around and stomps towards you and you flinch

''Since you insist''  he says and picks you up and starts running down the hill. Seconds later you two arrive in the valley and he puts you down. ''We're close''  

You look up at Taehyung, his whole entire being suddenly gives off the vibe of a predator. Like he's watching your every move and waiting for the perfect chance to come so that he can pounce on you . Goosebumps rise on your arm and neck and you take a step back ''where is it then?'' you ask

Taehyung stretches his arm and points with a long bony finger behind you. Slowly you turn around to see huge fallen logs layered on top of each other forming a triangular shape. Underneath you find a huge pile of fallen leaves and in the middle something thats glowing green.

''I can only accompany you till where the shield is'' Taehyung says and you nod. You don’t like how he said that sentence, its full of hidden agenda and you're not sure if your mind is playing a trick on you , but you swear you felt the blood thirst coming off him. Another thing you notice is the closer you get to the head, the more the shield surrounding the huge logs, starts to glow the exact same green light that also taehyung is covered in.

As you stand right before the shield , your hand comes up and you try to touch it with no avail. Your hand goes straight right through it and your’e just a teensy bit disappointed. ''hold up''  you think and turn around to squint at the being named taehyung ‘’the shield doesn’t exist’’

''it does, i told you only a human can enter it'' taehyung answers patiently and walks up to you, stretches out his hand and touches the shield. sparks start to fly and you cover your eyes.  

''see?'' Taehyung says and lets his hand fall down

Instead of answering you start walking up to the log. Its in the worst place ever, not exactly on top of the hill but neither in the valley, just right in the middle. Which is a huge burden to you, the mud keeps sticking to your shoes yet it also makes you stumble multiple times.

You finally reach your destination but now you're heaving heavily and your legs feel like they'll buckle in any seconds. ''God do i have to touch the leaves?'' you murmur in disgust. You dont hate the nature as a matter of fact you like it, thats the whole reason why you even moved out here. That doesn’t mean though, that you want to stick your hands into muddy leaves that probably has all sorts of insects crawling and pick up a decaying head.

Mentally prepping yourself you sigh deeply before reaching into the pile and grabbing the glowing head. The head is just as cold as the body it belongs you and it seeps through your entire being. The longer you hold it, the more flimsy your surrounding begins to look and you have to squint your eyes in concentration so that you don’t fall down.

‘’Here’’ you say as you stand in front of taehyung and hand him the head.

''thank you''  he says and takes it from you and puts it on his neck. Suddenly taehyung starts to glows a green light thats so bright ,that you have to shield your eyes. Few seconds later the light dims down back its usual , glow int he dark slime, state.Despite that you're in awe when you look up and see that the neck is connected to his head, and for the first time you see what he looks like.

Taehyung is beautiful beyond words. Long dark lashes kiss his cheek as he looks down on you.  On the right side theres a mole and he has another one, on the slightly plum yet longish underlip.  dark hair that hangs low enough to touch his beautiful sloped nose as he dips his head lower to be at  your eye height. A smile overtakes overtakes his features and at first you're struck, until you start noticing thousand of eyes starting to glow behind his back. Your eyes widen and you look back at Taehyung who's smile grows into unnatural hideous grin that touches both sides of the head and bears one too many teeth.

you take a step back to which he slowly follows until you stumble over a root and fall down. Taehyung chuckles deeply at your cowering state and bends down.

This is it, this is how you’re going to die, in the forrest surrounded by blood thirsty creatures that are ready to pounce on you in any second. And for a millisecond you’re annoyed at yourself for going into the woods with the dullahan just to meet your demise. 

A growl rips you back into reality ‘’'what a foolish human you are Y/n'’ he says and your vision goes black

[spectrumscribe]

i got u dude. mikey picking fights when he knows he wont win or mikey feeling like he isn't really contributing to the group (hope you feel better btw)

rottmntverse human au because that makes this even more fun :3c

((trigger warning for a brief homophobic slur, avoidable if you look for the paragraph becoming italics.))

In Mikey’s opinion, it doesn’t make sense. He reasons thatpeople should want to avoid startingfights with the biggest guy in the room, not actively try and do just that.

Raph isn’t the one who ever starts it. Donnie sometimesstarts things, mostly by just being his lovable prickly self, and occasionallyLeo blunders through a conversation badly enough someone has steam coming outof their ears about whatever dumb thing he’s said this time. Raph, though?

Raph doesn’t pick fights. Fights pick him.

It sucks, because Mikey knows that even though Raph is big,and a little awkward, and kind of intimidating if you don’t know him- Mikey’s oldest sibling would rather just get along with everyone. Wants to, even.

It’s probably because none of them fit the mold, the four ofthem. The only other person they hang out with is April. Mikey is fairlycertain half the reason people get pissed off at them is because they just.Don’t need anyone else.

Or maybe they’re just assholes, jostling and elbowing Raph inthe subway station they all have to share. Leo ditched school halfway throughthe day to go see Donnie at hisschool, which is the university halfway across the city. It’s just Mikey andRaph here today, waiting for the train, trying to wait out the snide remarks andcomments and rude as hell insinuations. No one is even noticing Mikey, sinceRaph made himself a barrier between Mikey and everyone else.

Mikey doesn’t even know what it is today. Why this ishappening at all. It’s Friday, theyall definitely have better stuff to do.

He’d had his earbuds in before this started, swaying to his private concert while he waited next to Raph, but he took them out the second he noticed shit starting to happen. Mikey is listening, and growingfrustrated, and hating every new minute they spend standing here. Raph says toignore them, they’ll lose interest eventually. (They never do.) They don’t haveto stoop to their level, says Donnie, like the hypocrite he is. (Donnie would fistfight older students in uni over scientific theory if he could.) They don’t wantto draw any more attention to themselves than they already do, says Leo, whenhe’s sobered from his bravado of keeping an air of lazily not caring. (Leo and his barest hints of mascara and meticulous eyeliner, Raph and his little sewing crafts in his backpack, Mikey and hisglittery binders he couldn’t resist getting and now regret having done so, for the eyes that stare and stare and stare at them all.)

Someone shoves Raph hard enough he stumbles backwards,knocking into Mikey and nearly toppling them both. Their train still isn’there. None of the adults waiting for it look like they’re going to step in. Everything about this sucks.

Mikey has to jump away to avoid Raph’s wrong footed retreat; his brother,though he’s at least a head taller than everyone here, keeping his clenched fistsat his sides as some jerk Mikey doesn’t know tries to physically push Raph intolashing out.

And Raph won’t,because he can’t, it wouldn’t matterthat he’d been goaded into it, everyone would blame him and wouldn’t ever lethim forget that he’d hit back. Onceit’s done, it won’t ever go away, and no one knows that better than Raph himself.

So his fists stay by his sides, and the split second they’reraised it’s to block a punch aimed at his chest. Raph’s expression is tight andangry, trapped like he is as the crowd of boys press closer, taking turnsshoving him, calling out names, laughing at his lack of reaction. You scared? Are you scared? You even got anythingdown there, or did ya get ‘em chopped off like your fag brother-?

The biggest kid, next to Raph, winds up to throw anotherpunch, and Mikey can already tell that it’s going to make contact with hisbrother’s face.

Raph doesn’t pick fights.

Sometimes, when he has to, though… Mikey does.

He’s half the size of everyone else, maybe smaller, but hisknuckles still impact against the asshole’s jaw and sends him reeling. Mikey shriekswordlessly and throws himself at the crowd of bullies, knowing he’s got theedge of surprise and nothing else. For a few seconds, he manages to hold hisown.

Then, someone with a lot more muscle mass than him socks himacross the face, then the stomach, and Mikey chokes on his own spit.

He breathlessly tries to keep going, but he’s thirteen andeveryone here is fifteen and older. Not to mention outnumber him almost a dozento one.

It’s a blur of pain for a minute there, fireworks of lightflashing behind his eyelids every time someone punches him. Fists and feet hittingwhatever they can of his skinny body. Then, something grabs him by the collar,and pulls him out of the fray with strength far greater than anyone else’s.

The guy who started it all swims in Mikey’s vision, rightbefore a big shape obscures it and picks him up with ease.

Mikey coughs on the blood of his swelling nose, and staresalong with everyone else as Raph holds their leader almost a foot off theground.

“Gonna say this once,”Raph growls out. “Piss off, or I throw you on the tracks.”

He drops the other kid, tossing him away a few extra feetfor good measure. The asshole lands poorly and has to be dragged to his feet byhis friends, wide eyes staring at Raph as he folds his arms and glares.

Their train finally arrives, coming up to the platform withthe usual shrill sound of its braking. What few other people that’d beenwitness to the whole fight stow their phones and get into the train cars,sensibly getting away.

Mikey and Raph reach for each other at the same time, andboard the train, too.

Raph’s bullies don’t follow.

“You gotta stop doin’ that, Mike,” Raph scolds anxiously,pressing another band-aid over a cut Mikey hadn’t noticed himself getting in thefight. “You don’t have to get caught up in that shit. I can take it. You’re gonna break yourhand one’a these days and then where’re you gonna be? You can’t do art if youcan’t use your hands.”

“Eh, I’d be fine. It’ll be a good time to try feet art,” Mikey says, sitting on their bathroom counter while Raph half-kneels, not even wincingas his banged up knee is taken care of. He’d almost ended up on the floorduring the fight, which could’ve had the whole thing go way worse for him. He’s lucky he got out of that with just a fewdark bruises and bloody scrapes, even if they’re turning nasty purple and redcolors against his dark skin.

Raph glares at him, mouth in a terse frown. Mikey pretendsnot to notice, and puts a cheerily colored band-aid on his brother’s cheek. It’sgot a fading bruise from a different fight still, now mottled with yellow, and Mikeyfeels a little lonely, being the only one in the room with bright littlepatches all over himself.

Raph doesn’t even try to move away from the band-aid as it’sapplied to his face. He just sighs long-sufferingly, like all of Mikey’s olderbrothers do sometimes, whenever he’s done something like this.

“You can’t keep pickin’ fights you won’t win,” Raph says,staring hard at Mikey’s bruised face. He looks so sad it makes Mikey sad, too. Whichwon’t do at all.

Mikey gently slaps his hands on either side of Raph’s face,and grins. “I only pick ‘em ‘cause I’m with you guys, and if I’m with you guys I’llalways win. Four against whatever, plus one when we got April. Sostop being a sadsack already and feel loved ‘cause I’m willing to punch stupidpeople in the face for you.”

Mikey’s smile is opening the split lip he’s got all overagain, but it’s worth it to see a hint of an echoing smile twitch on Raph’s face.

“Stupid,” Raph mumbles as he ducks away from Mikey’s hands,and Mikey doesn’t comment on the gloss his brother’s eyes have before he rubsat them. Mikey just hums and leans on Raph’s head with his elbows, idlythinking about changing the slivers of red wraps around his brother’s longdreads again. Maybe using a brighter red this time instead of a subdued maroon.

It might be something akin to waving a red flagin front a bull, but Mikey doesn’t mind playing bullfighter if it’s for hisbrothers.

if you’d spare some change to a writer who’s trying to build up finances after not getting paid for nearly three months, spec’s kofi tip jar would appreciate it,,