#and then I remember having a dream of running away from it or so I thought it was dream

[naomihatake]

The blood dripping from your eyes

⠀⠀⠀⠀➺ pairing: Sylus x female reader

⠀⠀⠀⠀➺ themes: fluff & angst, hurt/comfort

⠀⠀⠀⠀➺ summary: Sylus had never been so scared of being feared, not until that moment, when he came back home bathed in blood. Being greeted by his beloved when he entered the Onychinus mansion, the air got knocked out of his chest.

⠀⠀⠀⠀➺ content warnings: reader is MC, blood (no graphic violence), fear & anxiety, Sylus needs a hug (MC delivers)

⠀⠀⠀⠀➺ word count: around 1k words

⠀⠀⠀⠀➺ A/N: I rarely ever see fics in which Sylus is comforted — of course, he is treated gently most of the time, but since he's indestructible against other enemies, he is his own worst enemy when worries get to him. So yes, Sylus is at the receiving end of comfort this time around.

She wiped the blood on his cheeks with a gentle hand, running the tips of her fingers over his skin until the grim had been washed away, until she could feel the warmth of her lover (until she washed away his worries). 

The small white towel she picked up was now tainted in crimson. The red turned into a strange shade of pink under the stream of water in the sink.

Sylus stood stiff in front of her — he didn't dare move nor breathe when her other hand was holding onto his shoulder. He's never known a fear quite as intense, the fear of being feared. Dread had crawled up his throat since she entered his room and he found it hard to calm down. All he could do was curl and uncurl his fingers by his side (he didn't dare touch her). 

“Sy?” came out her soft murmur. 

Such a gentle sound he couldn't believe it carried the weight of his name (his nickname was so sweet on the tip of her tongue). 

His lips parted and he could swear there was a witty answer he wanted to say, but it somehow got stuck at the base of his throat. (What did he even want to say? He didn't remember.) All he knew was fear. For a moment, he pitied those who knew such a feeling. (For a second, he even pitied himself. No, it was the devil in the back of his head that was disgusted by his own fear.) 

The next thing he knew was the tender hand that settled on his cheek and the thumb moving over his purplish under eye. Sylus was met with a gentle gaze, the kind of gaze he's been dreaming of and yearning for. The Gods couldn't fathom how much he's missed that look in her eyes. 

“What's wrong?” 

She'll be the death of him. She already was. (Hopefully, she won't have to meet the same fate in this lifetime.) 

“Ain't I disgusting? Scary? A mon—”

A monster. However, her thumb settled on top of his lips and he was at a loss of words. 

“You're mine.” 

Sylus sucked in a panicked breath, something within his chest snapping, ugly and somewhat possessive. Ugly and fearsome, like a beast snarling at the bars of its cage (a poor heart beating frantically in between his ribs). 

“Even if you were to be one, you'd still be mine,” she whispered again. 

With her thumb, she pressed gently against his lower lip. With a slow and deliberate caress, his lover looked down at him with a warmth he's never been greeted with before, with a warmth he's only seen in another lifetime. 

Sylus cannot remember exactly how he ended up in this situation. All he knew was that his business had been a violent success, thus his blood soaked clothes and tainted skin. 

The following second, he had been greeted by his beloved as he had entered the Onychinus mansion. Everything had been a blur of frantic heartbeats and anxiety teetering on panic. Her eyes had been worried and a little dull even, but she brushed him off. ‘I've had a long day, but I missed you too much not to drop by.’ 

His fear-fueled brain didn't register that sentence properly. And that's how he ended up sitting on the edge of the large bathtub, with that beautiful (and too kind) woman standing between his legs as she washed away the blood (and all his crimes) from his face. 

“But if I am to be very honest, you're not a monster for me,” she shrugged like it was just another Tuesday. “I'd be hypocritical to say you're some kind of hero, but the least I can say is that whatever you are, you're mine. As a matter of fact, you're just the boss of Onychinus.” 

She regarded him with a simplicity that left him gulping down in shock, fingers curling into fists against his thighs. 

It was now or never. 

“I'm scared that one day you'll see me the same way you did in the beginning,” his voice trembled against his will. 

Even the crimson in his eyes seemed to tremble under her gaze. Even the blood in his veins rushed through his veins, as if to lap at her feet like the darkest of waters. 

The finger on his lips moved and before his nerves could spike up, she cupped his face in both of her palms. There were still a few traces of red on his skin, but she ignored it. 

“That'd be very uninspired of me,” she huffed a tired, noncommittal chuckle. 

Her thumbs rubbed circles on his sculpted cheekbones. Leaning in, her lips pressed against his forehead. (The beast inside the cage of his ribs had stopped snarling.) 

A gasp managed to escape his trembling lips. 

“Don't worry your mind with such a thing, my love. We're past that phase. I am. I don't fear you or anything that has to do with you.” 

Sylus tentatively raised his hands and let them curl at the slope of her waist, holding tenderly onto her. His heart ached, but he didn't want to break eye contact, he didn't want to look away, not when he was looked upon with such gentleness. 

She wasn't scared of him. Hasn't been for months. 

And if she decided to bestow such gentleness upon him, who was he to deny her? 

A/N: Thank you for reading <333 I'd happily hear your thoughts on this

[scriptseekstories]

Queen Bee’s Hive

Chapter 9- Dreams Are Lies

A/N: is that a new screenshot I see? And guess what? I MADE THAT SHIT lmao

You can’t really remember your life before the night you opened your eyes in that warehouse. The very first memories you can even vaguely recall was your mama, her beautiful face as she held you tightly in her arms.

You can barely remember voices of distinct people shouting at you, barely remember Ivy and her soothing presence, yet remember your mama so perfectly as if your brain refused to let go of her.

Your dreams allow you to see her, her blurry body yet perfect face. Those were the good nights, however, for your brain likes to torment you with dreams that are filled with screams that you can barely identify, blurred figures running past you, and the glowing eyes of Batman.

This dream tonight was different, yet common.

Nothing was around you. Endless void across miles and miles of what hog couldn’t figure out the location. You’ve been walking around for who knows how long, rubbing your arms in a soothing way.

You tend to hate these dreams, as you always end up meeting Them. The other you, they claim to be, the one who took control the moment you opened your eyes in the warehouse.

The Bee Beast.

“Took you long enough, you finally decide to talk instead of being a wuss and avoiding me?” You spoke up, seemingly talking to nothing, but you knew they were here, you always knew.

“They Hurt us… hurt you…�� The echoing voice croaked out, and you quickly turned to stare up at… well, you. You weren’t sure if this was a Jekyll and Hyde situation, or that you’re the real version, being human and all, and this was some sort of parasite.

“Listen, ominous discombobulated voice of the Bee Beast. I don’t know who “they” is, but you gotta let me leave,” You were getting sick of these cryptic words they spewed out every time you confront them- yourself? You didn’t care.

“Can’t… safe here…” When you first heard them say those words, you were scared and alone, only hearing the voice similar to yours, yet it soothed you and calmed you down as your mind drifted into a slumber.

But now, it made you angry hearing them, as if they wanted you to be kept here forever, forced to sit in the back of your mind like a caged memory.

“Like hell this is safe! I’m trapped in this endless void forced to watch you take control! Let me out!” From a distance, you squinted your eyes to see them, the Bee Beast sitting down facing away from you.

“You’re the one trying to run away from these little memories we have because of what?! Fear of acknowledging that what you’re doing is insane?!” You scowled, walking towards them

“I’m… sorry…” Was all they said before you walked straight into a hard surface. You cursed as you began to feel what seemed to be an invisible barrier, causing your anger to spike up.

“FUCK!!” You slammed your fists, “It’s MY life too!! You can’t be a coward and keep me here!!” You kept on smashing your fists against the invisible barrier, watching the Bee Beast walk further away from you.

Tears of frustration welled in your eyes as the blinding light that indicated you were waking up appeared. You weren’t ready yet, you needed more time to try and interrogate them, demand why it was so important for them to take control.

Yet all was in vain.

“RRRAAAAAGGGGHHH!!”

꧂꧁꧂꧁꧂꧁꧂꧁꧂꧁꧂ ꧁꧂ ꧁꧂ ꧁꧂ ꧁

Your body jolted awake, gasping for air as you sat upright, your four limbs flailing. That damn dream was causing you more stress than when you’re awake. Clutching onto the bottle full of glowing pollen spend your neck as a way to comfort yourself, you took deep breaths while feeling around you.

Blankets, wooden bed frame, your legs, and your nightstand. You listed out the things you felt to have your brain know you were okay. You opened your eyes and adjusted your vision to see your room clearly. A humble room with glow in the dark stars in your ceiling thanks to Harley, little succulent plants from Ivy, and probably stolen jewels from Selina as housewarming gifts.

“Queen Bee?” Your doors slid apart and opened to show one of your worker bees, a former “street” worker named Angie who saved from an aggressive customer. She was gentle, someone who just tried to survive in the streets of Gotham.

“Sorry to wake you, but we welcomed more who seek shelter,” She gently said, her newly acquired antennas twitching with joy. You smiled and got up from your bed nest, towering over her.

“Excellent, give them… a dose of my honey to… welcome them,” You reassured her, making her smile in surprise hearing your speech improved greatly. Still hesitate to fully utter words, but you’re getting better.

“We got it boss!” One other worker poked out behind Angie, a kid who tried to rob your drones for jars of your honey, to which you offered a home in your hive. Angie glared at him before rolling her eyes and ruffling his hair.

“I’ll be out there to greet our new family,” You called to the two while they walked away, the doors closing. You ran your hands across your head, pushing down your antennas and made them bounce back as the sun beamed through your windows.

Your hive was expanding, drones and workers are growing, and your honey is actually selling big thanks to Penguin. Your beehive buzzed with content, little larvae of bees hatched and are growing strong with pollen collected from you.

What more could you ever want?

You knocked over a box that scattered across the ground when you turned to leave your room. You looked down to see tapes laid on the floor. The tapes that were collected inside this warehouse, now Hive. You kept them, a sense of familiarity seeing them.

You grabbed one, flipping it over to inspect the labels. They were all dated years back, titled “entry 12”, “important notes”, or “Failed experiments”. Yet one caught your eye, one that had you curious.

“For… (Name)…?” It had your name, or at least you believed it was your name. Ivy referred to you as (Name) before, but that was only one time, using the nickname Bumblebee ever since.

Nevertheless, you crouched under your bed and pulled out the very old tv you kept to collect dust underneath, plugging it in and injecting the tape into it. You were curious, maybe this will help your memories in finally making sense, and maybe you’ll see your mother again.

Static speaker across the screen when it began, before glitching to a figure in a lab coat. Your eyes widened and your thorax chattered when you witness your mother come into screen, sitting down in the camera with a tired smile.

She looked distant from your dreams. Older, content, yet still beautiful. She cleared her throat and awkwardly waved at the camera, to which you instinctively waved back slightly.

Seems like your old self is still there.

“Project: Honey is going to be big. It’s going to save hundreds of bees, plants, and animals. It’s my dream to have this breakthrough known across the globe,” Your mother spoke, lifting her finger to show a few bees crawling all over her hands, the Queen perched on her stretched out finger.

“But… it’s not just about fame. It’s about us, (Name),” You straightened yourself at the mention of your name, “It’s our family growing from nothing, becoming something when no one else had your back. It’s family,” Your mother had a small content smile, watching the bees crawling over her hands, buzzing and flapping their wings.

“(Name), my beautiful (Name), you’re going to be someone big in life. Someone who will lead people and protect them with your incredibly smart brain and passion,” She stared into the camera, “Don’t be consumed by my work that will overshadow who you truly are. My baby,” Setting the Queen bee down, your mother sat directly across the camera, wiping tears in her eyes.

“I love you, sweetie. Don’t ever forget that part of you that brings that bright smile,” And with that, the video clipped into static, the sounds of the tv filling your ears as you sat in silence. The room seemed to be smaller, making you feel ever so small, like a child again.

“Mama…” You whispered, letting tears flow down. The dreams of your mother now seemed to be lies with how much you forgot her features. Her hair, eyes, nose, all seemed to different in your dreams than her on these tapes.

You must watch all these tapes, to see more of her. But your frantic attempt to grab all the tapes were interrupted by your doors sliding open, your antennas twitching wildly from the sense of fear.

“Queen Bee!! Intruder!!” One of the younger drones, a 13 year old kid ran into your room in a frantic state, their beanie pushing their antennas down, yet the tingling of fear still vibrated that you felt the whole hive shake with agitation.

“Who is it?” You asked without stammers or pauses, standing up fully while feeling your throws chatter with fury. Who dared attempt to invade your home and torment your people?

“The Joker!!”

꧂꧁꧂꧁꧂꧁꧂꧁꧂꧁꧂ ꧁꧂ ꧁꧂ ꧁꧂ ꧁

Damien followed Duke when he snuck out with his Signal suit to patrol in a very specific area. Duke doesn’t patrol at night, either his powers being most useful in the daylight. Yet the boy wonder could read him like a book, he was stalking around that warehouse.

“Father wouldn’t appreciate you draining yourself like this, it’ll be a pain to deal with a mopey you more than a mopey Grayson,” Damien jumped and crouched right next to Duke, who said nothing to even acknowledge Damien.

“Some investor claimed it… took everything out of that place…” Duke gritted his teeth seeing construction men finishing up their late night shift in fixing the outside of the warehouse, “We should’ve brought those tapes with us… their mother’s memories would still…” Damien followed Duke’s gaze down at the building.

Some real estate investors took property of the warehouse the family, making good out of the horrid memories that held from that place. To them, it was a nightmare seeing your corpse… yet to you, it was an escape.

Duke pleaded to Bruce they should save whatever was left in that warehouse for you, but their father was still grieving to do anything but wander aimlessly in the Manor. Even Damien had to admit, he was stupid to not even grab whatever seemed important to you.

Yet he was already stupid enough to never see you as his sibling.

“What we have done to our late sibling… we cannot erase,” He whispered, “Some of us more at fault than others…” His heart aches each day when he wakes up from memories of him tormenting you, scaring you a way with his swords, sending Titus to chase you, his demeaning words about your mother…

“Those hours of spending time with them, even if it was just a few hours, felt like I knew them forever,” The youngest looked up at Duke, who was wiping his tears from under his helmet. Damien felt his throat tighten, looking away and stared at the seemingly empty warehouse.

“…What were they like for those hours…?” He shouldn’t feel shame in asking, yet it felt like he wasn’t worthy of even asking about who you were. His voice wobbled ever so slightly, making Duke let out a quiet sigh.

“Clumsy,” Duke chuckled, “(Name) always seemed like they had two left feet, got worse when they got excited. They also have this… bright smile that lit up the room, a lopsided and crooked one yet I wish to see them again,” He mumbled, the look in his eyes making it seemed like he was raised to the hip next to you.

Damien listened in silence while Duke passionately talked about you, as if he knew you so well from the little time he spent with you. He wanted that feeling, the feeling that he would know you like the back of his hand, the feeling of even thinking about you was a cherish thing to experience.

The League of Assassins taught him that showing vulnerability, showing empathy and trust was a weakness. Yet here he was, imagining that your hugs would be like, your excited rambled about bees, what you would’ve done for your family if they did the same for you.

Weakness was all Damien needed if it meant having you back with them again. He wanted his older sibling to hold him while he cried in their arms while apologizing over and over.

Maybe you would’ve forgave him then.

“All Robins, return to the Batcave. We finally broke through H.I.V.E, all patrolling fall in,” The sudden static noise from the comms of Batman’s voice snapped Damien out of his thoughts. He responding his usually stern way, but Duke didn’t respond.

“We have to follow father’s orders, there must be important information for us about (Name),” Damien urged, for once feeling hope that he’ll finally get to know you, even if you’re gone, your memories will live on.

“But-…” Duke didn’t want leave, his eye catching a slight glow from the inside. Damien gave him a look, one of genuine sympathy and sternness, causing the meta human to hesitate. With one last glance, the two heroes disappeared into the rooftops of Gotham.

Buzzzzz

They failed to see the truck filled with clown goons and a certain green haired clown driving towards The Hive.

A/N: Okay so some things are confusing, so I’ll give you a little rundown. Kinda hard to explain but you’re both the same person, but two versions?

Basically Human Reader and “Bee Reader” are somewhat similar to Bruce Banner and Hulk. Both fighting for control and able to talk to one another when dreaming. Yet you aren’t aware that those dreams are real and you are actually talking to your other half, only believing that those are simply just dreams.

Both of you don’t remember anything except your mother from your past, but you will remember everything… eventually.

I also took inspiration of that one Spider-Man comic where Peter “died” and from his body came out a giant spider-like beast, who eventually died too and Human Peter crawled out of the body all alive and okay.

So take that as you will-

And finally, Cobblepot pulled a few strings and staged a whole signing of him buying out the warehouse with a fake name so no one would suspect anything out of the ordinary while you could keep doing your honey business.

Anyways, hope that gives you context, if not I’m sorry 😭

Taglist: @pix-stuff @jellystar-star @moon0goddess @bad4amficideas @lettucel0ver @lithiumval @degenerates-posts @ryuushou @deathbynarcisstick @silverklaus @artistwithcreativeburnout @middevil465 @jsprien213 @1abi @oliviaewl @redkarmakai @nxdxsworld @the-dumber-scaramouche @sc3n3mo-t3to @tw-om-gi-hs-56387 @bunniotomia @welpthisisboring @rad4bean @ithoughtthinks @reeyy0-2 @ceramic-raven @danart501 @esposadomd @trashlanternfish360 @esposadomd

[vincentsleftear]

take me back to S1 and S2 Moiraine costuming

[bonbonly]

lol imagine demon!carlos sainz, my guy would never leave you alone

bon's dark thoughts (18+)

someone sent an ask a while ago about incubus!carlos sainz and listen, this reminds me of @doomedmoth's greek era au with the drivers, but imagine being a priestess that's devoted to her deity Charles, worshipping him and praying every day for his blessings.

to be picked by him and cherished, i mean in hindu mythology i remember goddess andal had spent years singing and pining for lord vishnu before he himself came down from the heavens and married her so it'd be a similar situation.

except demon/incubus!carlos sainz who had been shunned from Olympia long ago has his eyes set on you and he thinks you're foolish, you're so naive and innocent, but that passion/devotion you have? the way it burns within you, igniting his own hunger. you're the type of person to sleep within the walls of the temple right at the foot of the deity for god!charles and incubus!carlos thinks this is absolutely perfect.

to be desecrated right in front of the man you "love", and he'd advance on your sleeping form. the way you're curled up, head resting at the foot of the statue and incubus!carlos has a wicked grin on his face. he'll blow some air onto your face, watching you stir slightly. the way your hair cascades down your face so beautifully, it's a shame you're blinded by your love for charles. he'll press a kiss to your forehead, and his form disappears right into your dreams.

usually, in your dreams, you would be envisioning god!charles caressing you and whispering praises at how you're his favorite devotee, how you'd be rewarded for all the weeks of penance. however, this time in the midst of your slumber, the clouds around this peaceful scene darkened and you found large hands wrap around your waist and toss you onto the shoulder of a being you did not know.

you screamed and cried for your god to save you but he had faded away and as you were tossed onto the very place you lay curled up to sleep, you could not understand which was reality and which was a dream. incubus!carlos takes the form of a man, his hands running through his dark locks of hair as his big lips curl upwards. he cups your face, mockingly cooing at your crying form,

"oh my sweet girl, no tears, shh... shh... it's alright, hermosa." he whispers, peppering your face with kisses. his clawed hands which are now just hairy hands grasp onto your hips, squeezing your flesh in a way that seemed to burn. you cried out, the chants of god!charles falling from your lips and incubus!carlos scowled at your screams. you were supposed to be more docile and willing to him! not to that pathetic excuse of a god who kicked him out of olympia as soon as the opportunity came forth.

he'd snap his fingers and whip you back to reality and as you wake up, your eyes adjusting to the light, you lay before his true form and he snarls at you, tearing your gown to shreds before spreading your legs. his lips wrap around your clit, tongue lapping at your folds as you scream and writhe beneath his assault. his wings flare outwards in an attempt to intimidate you and it works for the moment. he drags a claw down between the valley of your breasts, circling around your nipple as his tongue drags up to rest just below your navel.

"see this lamb succumb to me, charles," he growls with a dark chuckle, "see how she won't resist me any longer. your precious putita ruined right before your very eyes."

his cock drags along your folds, teasing you as you whine and beg for mercy but it's of no use, and he shoves his thick length into you in one thrust, knocking out the air in your lungs. you gasp, your back arching as his thrusts are brutal. his grip on your waist is bruising and he won't let you go until he's had his fill of you. again and again, he shoots ropes of his cum into your pussy, ignoring your wails and pleas for god!charles to come save you.

little do you know, god!charles had sent incubus!carlos in the first place. what god wouldn't want to have a little fun with their devotees, especially one as sweet as you?

[bachshot]

Imagining late nights in the watchtower with Bob...

Sleeping never came easily to you, as a mercenary you had countless amounts of blood on your hands and no one could blame you for it eventually getting to your head. But everything was fine now, right? You had saved New York and now you were an Avenger so everything should be fine, but you never really had that kind of luck.

It was too quiet... Too peaceful, before the watchtower you had lived in a studio flat downtown where there was always some kind of commotion outside but so high up in the tower it was rare you heard anything from the streets so far down, and that left you way too much silence for your thoughts to run wild in.

It was nights like this, restless whilst you tossed and turned endlessly with countless memories of your past mistakes flashing through your mind, where you found yourself padding quietly from your room to the towers kitchen to fix yourself a drink and admire the skyline views of New York. Usually these hours were spent alone, tonight wasn't following that formula.

As the kettle you're boiling softly whistles you hear a creaking in the floorboards behind you causing you to turn around, shoulders hunched with defence but quickly dropping when the culprit is revealed to be Bob. Clearly he's having a similar problem, his hair a mess from endless turning, bags under his eyes, and crumpled pyjamas too baggy for his body making it all the more obvious. On instinct he starts apologising, hands waving in defense in front of him,

"I heard your pacing in the hallway, I just wanted to make sure you were okay." He explains, a clear nervousness in his tone that you both knew he didn't need to have... He was just like that, and in a sense it was endearing.

You'd explain you couldn't sleep with a shrug, nightmares you'd clarify, as you grab a second mug to accompany the one you'd already gotten out for yourself, it only natural to make Bob a drink too if he was here. Once again his face would be guilt striken, he didn't remember the specifics of what had happened a few weeks ago when the void took over but he'd been told and part of him felt that that was responsible for your recurring nightmares. He looks like he's about to apologise again but you're quick to interrupt him.

"It isn't your fault, I always get them." And if they had been reoccurring more often since that day you still couldn't find it in yourself to blame him, "why are you up?"

Like you he's plagued by similar dreams, earning a sympathetic smile. You hand him the spare mug you'd gotten out, now filled with a warm drink that was meant to be soothing, and as your knuckles brushed in the exchange you couldn't help but notice while a few weeks ago he wouldv'e flinched away from the touch now he allowed it to linger just long enough for it to be noticeable.

It's too late to really go back to bed, but too early to get up and be productive so you make your way to the couch with Bob hot on your tail. Something about it is so natural, past the previous pleasantries you don't have to talk about what's wrong just being in eachothers presence is enough to lift the other. Eventually the conversation turns, and something Bob says has you raising a brow,

"I've always found it easier to sleep with someone else, it just feels secure."

The confession is made without much thought, and when you take a second too long to respond he almost regrets it. But then you look him in the eye and there seems to be a mutual understanding as something calls within you to pull him closer and he readily follows, leaning back on the couch with him over you one arm wrapped losely over his midsection and the other finding it's way to his hair.

Something you'd noticed about Bob is that he tends be to a fidgety guy but as you hold him close he goes still almost melting in to you, you hate to admit but he was right about it feeling more secure than laying alone. Maybe you should talk about what this means but neither of you say anything, it just feels right and for once you don't hate the silence that comes with nights in the watchtower. You don't mean to drift off, but at some point both your movements still as you're taken over by a much more pleasant sleep than you'd previously had.

If the rest of the team finds you the next morning, limbs tangled in a messy pile on the couch, soft snores leaving your mouths as Bob's head burrows into your chest and your chin tucks into his hair, they decide to hold off on the teasing knowing the two of you need the rest... At least until after morning training.

[elysiasasuya]

Secured promise

Pairing : Caleb x reader

Summary : When a nightmare strikes like thunder, it shakes your whole consciousness that dream seems to be infused in reality. The only one that can grasp you back to the real world is the one that makes you feel alive– Caleb. Suddenly, the distance no longer feels suffocating and agonizing; his arms are there to prove it all false you wish it is. The truthful and trust-worthy promise that Caleb said is the reality that you can accept.

Genre : angst to fluff

Content tags : traumatic hidden memory (dream), child experimentation, abusive experimentation (knives, syringe, chip) . domestic Caleb, soft comfort, sweet promise, pet names (pipsqueak, pips, baby, honey), kisses, hugging, cuddling.

Word count : 2,006

Author's note : Have you ever wondered what it's like if you, as the MC would remember the experiments you went through? This shows that idea! Caleb will comfort you don't worry. Domestic Caleb ahead! Lastly, the point of view in this story is the first POV. Enjoy! :>

Masterlist

The thumping of my heart fuels the energy of the adrenaline inside of me, it rushes from nerve to nerve that it occupies all my senses. My throat feels too tight, the air inside me stolen by my anxiety that it's starting to choke me. I open my mouth to speak, only for nothing to be uttered as I hopelessly wait for help that I fear I won't receive. Perhaps I need to struggle harder in freeing myself from the restraints of the straps. My finger is just about to lift itself when my eyes catch sight of..a doctor?

Someone in a scrub suit follows, speaking my name just before she says: “ Professor Lucius, everything is ready.” The word ready stirred the confusion that I felt from the very beginning. But, it's only a few seconds before my heart jumps so hard that it knocks off that feeling, now replaced with fear. The ugly feeling did not gnaw at me but rather slowly swallowed me as I saw them surround me with a syringe, knife and a small piece of..chip? “ ngh! ” a whimper barely managed to escape but it did, I widened my eyes full of horror, expressing all I needed.

They didn't stop for me; rather they continued, the knife just above my skin that my widened eyes turned into a closed one, a great frown etched on my face. I can feel the tip of it slide for a bit and I have to bite my lower lip to the point of bleeding. I hate knives, I hate this, I don't want to di- there's a cut. Not on my skin but with the train of my thoughts as I flinch at the slam of the door. My eyes open in fear, only to widen in recognition. Fear. Even more fear. “ Caleb? ”

That was the last thing I was able to utter when next thing I know, I'm no longer on the table, escorted out with a peculiar politeness. I should be greatly relieved and I should probably even run immediately. Everything stops however, the door, my steps, my whole body. What is Caleb doing in the room? Why is he laying down where I'm restrained? “ Caleb, what are you doing?! ” My yell does not reach him when two people claw at my arms to pull me back and my anxiety skyrockets.

“ Please no! What are you going to do to him?! ” my eyes don't leave his face, his features are no longer soft and serene as I am used to but rather worried and broken. Why? That's when I realize the exact answer despite the haziness and confusion of what actually is happening. My mind slurs but I fight off whatever holds me back. My heartbeat increases so much that it hurts my chest, fills my ears and tingles my whole body especially when I see him cry when I see the knife slides with ease on his skin.

I remember what he said then: " I won't lose against them, I have someone I must protect! " It used to be funny to me because he seemed like a pretty prince charming that's too tiny and fragile. I didn't want to doubt but I felt no need to take it seriously. Now, it's more than serious. He was actually serious. So serious that he bled for me, no matter the pain he clenched his hand and stared away from me. Please no. “ Caleb!! Stop, no! Let go! Caleb!! ” My voice echoes through the hall, I don't stop at all, I keep on doing it even when my eyes flutter so many times. Anger, sorrow, fear, anxiety, all of it shoots to my body but then I see him, his mouth uttering his nickname for me.

“ Pipsqueak, pipsqueak! ” His voice is oddly tender and realistic this time. It's even devoid of the pained scream that rang through the room but my mind doesn't relent and instilled the hideous and agonizing image of my dream in me. Touch. A warm palm is placed on my cheek, thumb working on wiping off the tears that I didn't even notice were falling. I am frustrated, the bubbling feeling of something clearer than before rising before I finally open my eyes, the gasp I forced coming out. “ Hey, hey, you're alright, baby. ” That's his voice.

I could only whimper weakly, words at loss as if grief really caught up to me. I don't want that, I never will– Before my thoughts can even deteriorate by recalling the gut-wrenching memory, Caleb rubs my back slowly, forming a good distraction for long. “ It's okay, baby. You're fine with me, I'm here. ” despite the speed of my heart fighting back, at least my breath stabilized. My eyes that used to be in tremor now are concerned and soft. “ Caleb. ” my voice cracks and I had to question if it's not just a dream, that my scream reverberated so certainly at my–

“ Shh. ” Caleb hushes me softly. The hues of my eyes glistened as I traced my eyes on the worried but caring look in his face. He remains calm, his palm now shifting itself to rest on my waist. His hold on me is firm and I get reminded of the exasperating distance between us before. That's enough to have me tighten my arms around his waist. I know it makes me seem like a kid in a frightened situation but I won't let myself think otherwise. “ I'm glad you're safe. Please don't go, stay with me.”

The vulnerability of my voice is visible and as much as Caleb knows I hide away at moments like this, I cannot find a cave where I can store all these emotions because it's spilling out. Even so, when has Caleb ever denied me to hug him for solace? The answer is never, I know it so well and his touch— fingers under my chin confirms it as he tilts it. “ It's okay if you cannot tell me about it. What's important is that you're feeling much better. ” His purple eyes swirls like the galaxy I like, perfectly capturing the look I have on my face. I sigh at the sight. He sees me, he hears me. That's what matters now. I'm not far from him. I snuggle closer as I think that, nuzzling my face on his arm.

“ Caleb..I had a bad nightmare. ” I start, my eyes not leaving him even for a moment. There's no way he'd be out of reach again right? A question once again answered when he nodded, urging me to continue. I can see his reddish ears perk up to listen. “ It was so frustrating. I was strapped, all ready to be..experimented on? ” more of another question than statement, but that for sure made him focus even more eagerly, his eyes sharpening. “ Tell me more, pips. What happened? ”

The way his breath turned slower caught my attention and I almost hesitated because of how eager he seems to know. It's just a dream, is it not? For the first time, I break our eye contact and it drifts off. He must have noticed this so he patted my head and kissed it. It's like a sign that he will know either way, he knows me, by heart. He knows that I am weak when I'm on his lap, curled up in his embrace. “ The first time we did this, you fell asleep on me. ” he chuckled, directing attention to somewhere else. Again, he adjusted for me like he always does. He knows that I need time to move forward with what I will say.

“ I did, but I don't wanna sleep again because.. ” my doubt lingers but then he peppers kisses all over my face. Giggles come out involuntarily at this, my ticklish spots barely hidden away when he kisses my neck. He stays there. “ Whether you are asleep or not, I'll be next to you. I'm with you until the end of the earth, there's no end with us. ” Gosh, it definitely healed a huge part of my pained heart. I'd even bet that it melted so warmly that I sighed and let all tension release itself. “ I've always been here, even when you move forward, I stay behind and wait. I'm waiting now, pips. ”

“ Thank you, Caleb. ” relief made my body flushed on his, our warmth merging that it's taking all the attention away from what surely isn't true. I hope it is. Our eyes meet again, silence filling the dimmed room, obscuring the whole world outside from us. I don't even know how but our lips meet, words that need to be exchanged all swallowed from the tongue that protrudes to take it. Everything felt slow and soft now. My eyes open slowly, pulling away as I breathe shakily. “ Is that a seal of promise? ” I say, finally, I am no longer bound to my dream and I can jest.

“ If it was then I'd be kissing you every single day. My sweet words are my promises to you, baby. ” I'd be embarrassed if I saw my irises diluted like a puppy in love but he is exactly the same. I laugh at that, his palm smoothens my skirt, gentleman as ever. “ Well, I hope you don't steal my words now. Can I..? ” his eyes no longer narrow, rather he keeps it reassuring and he nods again. He's so patient that I think I need to make it worth it. “ In my nightmare, I was strapped, ready to be experimented on. But then.. ” I gulp, the images flickering like a deadly flashback.

“ hmm, yes, what happened, love? ” His hum catches my staggering attention. This time his hands cup my cheeks, not tight, not loose, it's just right. I gather the courage, speaking again. “ You took my spot. Your skin gets sliced and you scream. I wanted to..I really wanted to help you. ” I almost struggled to breathe but Caleb knew before this even happened. I see him breathe in and out intentionally, I follow as much as I can. “ I screamed and shoved everyone away. I tried getting to you. ” tears arrived and flowed, each and every one of it caught by his thumb. “ I felt so frustrated. I hate it, I don't want you sacrificing yourself. Please. I don't want you in pain. ”

Finally, I'm able to freely express my frustration, sorrow, fear and worry. I felt like a water that lets the waves of emotions flow without a care. “ Please, Caleb. Promise me you'll be safe. If you do, I will do the same. ” I should have simply asked it but I know the same yearning and protective feeling I have is inside him too. Shameless of me. “ We have always been safe, baby. In my arms you are, not a thing in the world can hurt you. While you're here, I'm sure your hunter skills can protect me too.” With this, my body is flushed with his now and I sob quietly in his arms, agreeing through nods. “ If you're alright, I am too. ”

Time flew, but I didn't mind any of it. All I can focus now is that I am secure in Caleb's arms, I made sure that it's the same for him. I never left his embrace, instead I even tried to close whatever gap we had. This– is enough. Before I even know it, my tears are dried. “ You feeling better, honey? ” he presses his forehead on mine, eyes closed as he smiles. If I see him this close, I think I can rest all my thoughts. “ I feel good. You know your way to my heart huh? ” I whispered, tilting my head to the side to peck his lips. “ I always know the way to you. Isn't that the same to you? ” a pause.

“ We'll never get lost. Our paths always cross y'know. That way, distance doesn't exist. We're just safe and close to one another. I will never give up on that, I have you to protect. ” Once again, his statement flies back to my mind. It should have felt like a despicable bug as terrifying as the dream. It should have reminded me of his sacrifice, the one that's supposed to save me yet it hurt me even more. But him saying it like this? His breath hitting my skin? His body almost joined with mine? It's like a butterfly. Ticklish inside my stomach. A dream come true. Now my eyes can close and I can sleep in peace again.

© 2025 @elysiasasuya . Please refrain from copying, stealing, or profiting off my works.

[legendofmorons]

Written in the stars (forever on loop) chapter nine - Poker face

Pairing: pre poly! Chain x reader, Wind & reader

Rating: T

Summary: When plans are interrupted you find yourself with some skulltulas. Thankfully you reunite with the chain, unfortunately the reunion dosen’t last as long as you want.

(Aka: Spooky meets the chain and Warriors wouldn't let me give him a gentle realization... also Sky is have a Bad time at the end (off screen but you'll see why)

Warnings: Spiders, cursing, Canon typical violence, minor injury, water

Other: If I missed anything, please let me know.

Previous Masterlist Next

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Dark sits in the shadows with his darling lamb, watching excitedly as Onyx's plan takes effect. He watches wave after wave of increasingly difficult monsters swarm the damnable heroes.

"What do you think, my dearest viper?" Onyx asks as they lean their head onto his shoulder.

Dark gives a vicious grin that's far more like a shark than a hylian. "Your cruelty is unmatched."

"Flattery will get you everywhere," Onyx purrs in a voice like honey covered blades.

Dark chuckles, pressing a kiss to their forehead.

There's the sound of a scream from a monster and a few curses.

"Perhaps a few more lynels?" Onyx muses to themselves.

"Why not draw it out?" Dark suggests.

"Oh, I am."

There's a ripple of light magic that reeks of Hylia. A shift in the world as a portal opens.

Dark growls lowly, "I sent them away!"

Onyx frowns, looking up at him. "What?"

"The Golden Bitch herself sent (Y/n) here."

"No," Onyx hisses.

"Would I lie to you?"

Onyx mutters darkly and pulls on their magic to call off the other waves. Of course Hylia is able ruin everything. She's very good at it.

Dark is quick to pull at his own magic to try to get the more dangerous monsters away for the moment.

There's urgency neither wants to examine. They don't have time for it anyway.

Stupid Hylia, always ruining their fun.

"Demise curse it," Onyx sneers.

There's an urgency to it that neither wants to examine. It's not any personalized attachment it's just buissness.

The monsters that were practically queuing up are sent to other times without a thought.

"I really hate geozards," Wind groans from his fight.

Onyx snickers, "Good."

Dark sighs, "If only this wasn't interrupted."

"Come on, we should get out of here before they finish these off," Onyx sighs.

They both stand, and Dark snags his darling lamb's hand with a grin.

Onyx lets him drag them away, running after him as they keep their fingers lacing together. They aren't looking to be separated again.

"You got those skulltulas, right?" Onyx asks.

"Maybe!" Dark calls as he sinks them through the shadows and into a place far enough away to not see the heroes.

He's had enough of their faces.

"I'm sure it'll be fine," Onyx says, mostly to assure themselves.

-------

You don't sleep well the night after you go through the portal alone. Spooky is a reassurance, but making camp by yourself in a strange place is... not your favorite.

Morning comes to chase away the dreams of a past you aren't ready to fully delve into yet. Phantom touches almost linger, but they are easy to brush aside.

Knowing for sure that you are the Hero's Soulmate is strange. Soulmates are such a strange concept, at least to you.

How can you be that lucky? To have a perfect match every lifetime?

Knowing you've lived multiple lives in this world is even stranger.

It explains a lot, though.

Is the fact that you're both Link's soulmate and someone who's lived a dozen or more lives in Hyrule account for you being so heavily drawn to the Legend of Zelda?

Does it make your fascination forgivable?

You can't say.

You aren't sure it matters...

But now that you accept the truth, you are remembering more and more. To the point you are ready to go shake your past lives because who is that far gone on some man? (You are, apparently.)

Breakfast isn't anything fancy, just a little bit of the rations you got from older Wind. It's enough to keep you going though, and that is always a plus.

("Breakfast is important, Sunshine!" An older teen with sandy hair defends as he presses your favorite meal into your hands because he knows you've been so busy you are forgetting to eat sometimes.)

After you eat, you start walking again, following Spooky.

Spooky seems to have a destination in mind, moving around confidently.

Every once in a while, they pounce on a leaf or make a low chitter sound at a bird they can't reach.

It's adorable in the 'kitty!' sense.

(Who knew ambush predators could be so sweet? Oh, that's right, every cat person ever.)

Walking alone where you have no idea where you are and the knowledge monsters could be anywhere is awful. You think you prefer the tension that the boys have going on. At least they also provide security and extra swords.

There's a deep empathy for each of your ... the ... your boys. (They are your boys, though, aren't they?)

Each of them have been alone like this, especially Wild, Sky, and Hyrule.

Spooky rubs against you as if sensing that you need to come out of your mind to focus on your surroundings.

It's probably a mile or two in that you hear hissing and clicking.

Oh shit.

That can't be a skulltula... right?

You turn to the right and catch sight of a good five skulltulas. Two in the trees and one on the ground.

Great.

You know what's worse than one giant evil spider?

Five.

Five giant evil spiders are worse.

These are so much more terrifying in person.

"Well... fuck," You groan.

Is running an option?

You hesitate too long.

The spiders are already almost to you.

Fuck.

("Skulltulas are the worst," an older teen bemoans to you as you comb your fingers through his hair. "Getting them off walls is still in my nightmares.")

How are you even supposed to flip these things to get to their weak spot?

You step back a little to create some more space and grab your sword.

Spooky growls low and long, tail swishing as they stand at your side.

The fight is a blur. Half instinct and half clumsy inexperience leads to what is probably a weird show.

Dodge.

Kick.

Strike.

Deflect.

Pain laces through your leg at a branch ripping into the skin.

Blood.

Spooky flips a skulltula with a growl.

You plunge your sword into the beasts weak spot.

It dissapears in a shrieking hiss and puff of dark magic.

"Good kitty!" You call.

The fight goes on like this.

You keep the attention, dodging and sometimes stumbling, while Spooky waits to ambush and flip them over.

You finish off the last skulltula with a victorious cry.

As soon as you finish the last spider off, you look to Spooky.

"Good kitty!" You declare again.

Spooky sits down and starts panther bath time.

Which is probably a good plan.

You put your sword and shield back where they go before taking stock of your own injuries.

There's the cut on your shin, shallow but painful and bleeding.

There's quite a few bruises.

Wincing, you press your fingers to a sore spot on your bicep. The bruise there isn't any fun but you'll live.

You could use potion from Legend, but you don't want to waste it on something like this. There's something in your mind that says you need to save it for something worse.

("If we're ever separated and you're low on supplies, you should try to conserve potions and faries, firefly," a man says gently as he wraps you in his arms. "I hate to say it, but still...")

These half memories are driving you up a wall, and they don't even have a license to drive. It feels like there should be commercials for a class action lawsuit.

You sigh, reaching into your pack for your water and some bandages.

You'll have to clean it better later, but for now, clean water to rinse and sterile bandages is better than leaving it open to the elements.

You rinse the cut and wrap bandages around it. You tie off the bandages before putting everything else away.

By the time you're ready to move more, Spooky is sniffing the air. They sniff the air the way that cats do when they smell something they want.

Oh?

Spooky starts walking into the trees before they stop and look back to you.

Well, who are you to ignore them?

You follow them into the trees.

Spooky leads you through the forest with insistent looks and lashing tail. They seem antsy about moving to wherever they are leading you, and after the ambush of skulltulas, you are eager to follow.

Stupid spiders.

"Where are you bringing me?" You ask as you duck under a branch.

Spooky stops, tossing you a look as their tail lashes a little faster.

"Oh, come on, Spooky, I'm exhausted. I hate those stupid spiders."

Spooky lets out a crooning sound and levels you a look.

You laugh, reaching the panther and scratching behind Spooky's ear. "Thank you for saving me, pumpkin."

Spooky rubs up into your palm before they stand and start walking again.

They walk a little slower this time, leading you until you are just before a clearing and you can hear voices.

Oh...

Did Spooky just bring you back to the boys?

Bad kitty!

(You don't mean that Spooky is an angel.)

Well, if this is how things are going to be... at least you won't be the only one with a sword now.

(And if you are honest... it's sort of a nice idea to stay with your boys and get to know them again.)

Spooky sits in the treeline, waiting for you.

You huff, breaking through the trees, "Really? This is what you wanted me to see?"

The entire chain has stopped what they're doing to look over.

Several go still.

At least six pairs of eyes go wide.

Wind gasps, calling your name excitedly.

You wave, "Hey, sailor."

Epona neighs happily before trotting away from where Twilight is brushing her and over to you.

Spooky sits just behind the treeline, watching.

You gasp, hugging Epona happily when she reaches you. "Sweetheart!"

Epona huffs affectionately, bumping her muzzle along your shoulder.

You happily fish out an apple to pass to the mare. You hear the youngest snicker at the sight.

"What are you doing here?" Wind asks as he joins you and Epona. "What happened to your leg?"

"Spooky lead me here after some skulltulas got the drop on us." You wave off, stepping to the side but still petting Epona.

You don't want to come off as weak or childish... and really... there are worse monsters.

("Don't downplay your feelings just because others might have it worse. Your experiences matter, my love," a man with a green headband and mossy eyes says as he presses a kiss to your cheek.)

"Skulltulas?" Legend asks tightly. "Are you okay?"

"Spooky?" Wind asks.

"Yes, I'm fine - oh!" You glance around realizing that Spooky hasn't come out. Well, now, that is just rude. You call out, "Spooky, here kitty kitty kitty!"

"A cat?" Twilight perks up.

Wild and Hyrule also seem curious.

Spooky stalks out and runs themselves to you on the side opposite of Epona before going to sniff Wind.

"That is not a cat!" Legend tenses immediately, eyes wide.

"Get that - thing 'way from Epona!" Twilight hisses, rushing towards his horse.

"Wind get back here." Warriors says sharply.

Wind laughs, letting Spooky sniff him. The boy seems fairly unbothered and almost seems to feel a rush of delight.

Twilight grabs Epona's reigns and tries to tug the mare away only to be met with an unwilling to move horse.

"Hey now, Spooky is a good kitty." You say, reaching out to pet the panther.

"That's not a cat!" Twilight manages.

Several others make sounds of agreement.

Time looks like he's silently praying.

Sky looks ready to laugh or cry.

Four is not looking at you, fists clenching so tightly his knuckles are white.

Legend still hasn't let his muscles relax.

Spooky rubs along Wind happily before circling around to sniff Epona.

Twilight gets between Spooky and Epona, hand on the hilt of his sword.

"Hey! You hurt my cat, and I have to break your legs." You say sharply, genral animal love over riding any dislike for conflict you may have.

"If yer- pet hurts Epona-" Twilight grits out.

"Spooky won't."

"That thing -"

Spooky slips by Twilight and weaves between Epona's legs, purring as they rub up on the mare.

"What in blazes?" Twilight gapes.

"Good kitty!" You clap.

Spooky weaves around to you again, sitting at your side. Their tail lashes as if daring the chain to comment further.

"Where'd you find Spooky?" Wind asks with bright eyes.

"Spooky found me, walked right up to me in town while I was sitting outside. They like napping on me."

"D'ya have some sorta magic over animals?" Twilight wonders

"No?"

"Let me get this straight," Sky says slowly, his voice tight as he walks over. "Some stray panther came up to you in the middle of a town, and you- let it nap on you now?"

The wood carver looks like you could push him over by blowing on him.

"Yes. You can't move a sleeping cat," you say as if this is obvious.

Really thought that's just one of the rules of being a cat lover.

"That is a panther!" Legend calls with a straining voice.

"Big cat." You shrug.

"Predator!" Warriors groans.

"Hylia, help us," Four manages weakly.

You wave them off. "Spooky is a good kitty. They helped me kill giant evil spiders."

Spooky preens as if they understand that they're being praised.

"You're my hero." Wind informs you breathlessly.

"What? Why?"

"I want a pet panther."

"I think I'm Spooky's pet." You laugh.

Spooky just starts purring.

Wind laughs, too.

"Wind no one is getting you a panther," Warriors grits out lowly.

Wild is creeping over now, staring at Spooky with bright eyes.

Ah, yes, champion of the wilds... of course, he wants to meet the big cat.

He's always so good with animals.

("That is a bear - why are you trying to register a bear at my stable?" A man demands as someone with a bow on their back grins down at him.)

Spooky looks to Wild and yawns.

"We are not keeping a panther," Time says as he pinches the bridge of his nose.

You frown immediately, "Why not? Spooky's a good kitty."

"We don't keep wild animals as pets," Time sighs.

"He's right," Twilight agrees immediately.

Warriors crosses his arms, "Panthers are dangerous."

"You guys keep Wolfie," You protest on instinct despite knowing the wolf in question is really just Twilight.

It's maybe a little underhanded, but you really want to keep Spooky!

Also, it's probably easier for everyone if you aren't separated since Spooky dosen’t like that.

Stretching the truth still feels a little weird...

You've committed, though.

"That's different," Twilight defends quickly.

To be fair to him, it is different.

"Spooky is friendly! They kill monsters, they hunt their own food, they're a good gaurd cat," You reason.

Warriors just stares at you with the most deadpan look to date. "That is a wild animal."

"Preadators are horrible pets," Legend grits out.

"Still think I might be Spooky's pet," you shrug.

Hyrule bites his lip before he mutters something to himself. Looking somewhere between amusement and disappointment.

"Not better," Four manages finally.

Wind rolls his eyes, "Spooky seems fun!"

"We can't just keep a panther," Four says as he stares at the panther in question.

"Counter point," Hyrule pipes up, "How are you going to get rid of a panther that's adopted someone?"

The others all fall silent, trying to take this question in. It's a good question.

How do you separate a panther from their person?

Wild manages to kneel by Spooky and begins petting them. A soft, wondrous smile spreads on his face.

You smile softly, "See? Spooky's sweet! Isn't that right, pumpkin?"

Spooky gives a low rumble.

"Farore on a stick," Legend groans, earning himself several dirty looks.

"Spooky's a good kitty. They helped me kill skulltulas! And you saw that they like Epona!" You coax, repeating several earlier points.

Spooky is purring now, happy to lean into Wild's hands.

Twilight just stares at you with a face that a mix between resignment, fondness, grief, and exhaustion.

"If this goes poorly we get rid of Spooky," Time sighs.

Sky, Legend, and Four look distinctly sea sick.

Warriors looks like he might scream.

"Yes!" Wind beams.

You smile at the kid, trying to ignore the fact that you know his future. That's a weird thought.

At least you know he lives through this.

"Yer sure Spooky is friendly?" Twilight asks, something weighty in the words.

"To us? Absolutely!" You say firmly.

Twilight frowns but he steps closer.

He steps close enough to hold a hand out to Spooky.

Oh!

Oh yeah!

Twilight is a cat person.

("The barn cat had kittens today 'n they're cuter than a bug in a rug, darlin'!" A man grins at you as he takes your hand, alreadytuggingyou towards the barn.)

Spooky sniffs the hand and then nudges it with their nose.

Twilight steps closer again and starts petting their face gin slow and cautious movement.

A smile starts to creep up on his face. Something deep in your soul soothes at the image. He has a nice smile.

(You miss it.)

You glance around the others while Twilight, Wild, and Wind love on Spooky.

Warriors and Time stand together now, discussing something in tight tones.

Legend and Hyrule sit together and keep eyeing Spooky. Hyrule seems curious, but Legend looks ready to run.

Sky and Four are also eying Spooky, but Sky seems curious in addition to weary.

You frown.

Legend looks ready to absolutely bolt, and Four doesn't look much better.

Oh.

Right.

Minish and rabbits are technically prey.

Fairies are hit or miss...

Four won't look at you.

It makes your heart writhe and flail miserably, but it's obvious enough. Four doesn't want anything to do with you just now.

It hurts to know he dosen’t want to speak with you, but that's his right.

You move away from Spooky and the three males who are loving the panther up and start towards Legend and Hyrule.

Legend looks to you with wide eyes when you stop before him and Hyrule.

"Are you two okay?" You ask.

"Uh- fine!" Hyrule says way too fast.

"Just... not a fan of wild animals..." Legend manages faintly.

You smile softly, fondness you aren't ready to examine the origin of seeping into your being. "It's going to be okay. Spooky won't attack, and if for whatever reason they do, I'll stop them."

Legend swallows hard, "Don't do that. It's fine..."

"Hey, it's going to be okay, I pro-" You start only for Hyrule to interrupt.

"No promises!" Hyrule yelps as he grips his tunic in both hands tightly.

"Okay?" You manage, more confusion than anything.

Oh.

Promises.

Like in the dream.

("Honeybee, you have to be very, very careful when you interact with the Fae," an older teen says as he holds your hand in both of his. "You can't make Promises with a fairie. That's so dangerous... even if it's me.")

"Just... I don't like Promises." Hyrule says softer, looking away.

"Okay, that's okay. I didn't mean to upset you. I'm sorry. It will be okay, though. Spooks is a sweetheart."

"I- Jesus jumped up christ," Legend laughs shakily, "Who gets adopted by a panther?"

You shrug a little, "Me, apparently. Maybe I'll befriend a rabbit next."

The rabbit comment is a spur of the moment joke out of your mouth before you register it.

Legend's ears dust pink at the tips, his eyes are wider yet. He almost squeaks when he asks, "Rabbit?"

"You never know," you say.

Legend just nods dumbly.

"Is your leg okay?" Hyrule asks, bringing the injury up again.

"There's a dull ache, but I'm fine it's not too bad."

Legend looks you over, hand twitching as if he wants to touch you and is holding himself back.

Apparently accepting that you're their soulmate allows your memories and intuition to start surfacing more.

It's... strange and sort of nice to know the chain so much better... but you already know them, even before.

This makes your head hurt.

"I could heal it?" Hyrule's offers.

You shake your head, "No thanks. Save your magic, I'll be okay."

"Are you sure?" Hyrule frowns.

"I'm sure," you say.

Your words don't seem to reassure either man much, but they seem to drop it.

"Well, it's good the skulltulas didn't win," Legend manages faintly.

Hyrule elbows his predecessor sharply.

You snort. "I'm glad about it too."

Legend gives a weak smile.

"You should go get Spooky before Twilight tries to pick them up," Hyrule says with a soft laugh as he points to the scene behind you.

That's probably a good idea.

You offer your most reassuring smile, "Spooks will love you, trust me."

You turn to go save Twilight's spine from his apparent need to lift a panther.

"We should keep moving soon," Time calls out.

-------

Warriors watches you, Wind, and Legend. The captain notes how Sky is in front of you walking with Four. nearby but far enough away for you not to pull him into the conversation.

You're snickering as Wind flits about you and Spooky.

Warriors still can't believe you have a panther.

His Dove would never bring a panther to the group.

Wait.

Fuck.

His Dove would absolutely do that.

He gives a slow, heavy sigh that does nothing to diminish the aching fondness.

Warriors shouldn't think you bringing home a random panther is adorable. He really, really shouldn't.

He does anyway.

He finds himself tuning into your conversation.

"Keep your panther on the other side of you," Legend groans when Spooky tries to sniff him again.

You snort, gently pushing Spooky away. "Be nice, pumpkin."

Legend just sighs, "I can't believe you're calling that predator something so sweet."

"What can I say? It fits," You laugh, scratching Spooky's face.

Wind glares at Legend. "Are you giving them shit about the best cat ever?"

Warriors agrees with the groan Legend gives.

"Wind," you sigh.

"All I'm saying is that hearing a predator get called 'pumpkin' is strange," Legend says easily.

"That's ridiculous," Wind scoffs.

"Okay, well, Ledge has a point," you shrug.

"Ledge?" Wind snickers.

Legend just sighs heavily, with far more token exhaustion than anything. "Just shut up, sailor."

"What, you don't mind being called Ledge?" Wind grins.

"I won't call you that if you don't want me to?" You offer.

Warriors can barely stand this conversation, and he isn't even in it.

"It's fine," Legend says with only a little panic. You know the normal amount of panic.

"You sure?"

"It's fine," Legend waves off.

"Oh, that bridge dosen’t look steady," Hyrule says from ahead.

That last bit feel ominous...

The group gathers around Time a few feet from the bridge.

"Maybe one at a time?" Warriors suggests.

There's a few rounds of agreement, and then there's the debate of who goes first.

Wild and Time go first.

Then Hyrule and Sky

Then Wind and Twilight go.

Four goes after that with Legend.

Your turn comes, and you cross it, with Warriors, making it halfway before the bridge breaks, and you both fall.

There's a heart-stopping stillness and cracking sounds.

Warriors manages to make panicking eye contact with Time as the old man grabs Legend and Sky to stop them from running at you two.

The bridge gives out, and all Warriors can hear is screaming and air.

There's screaming of both of your names and Warriors has just enough sense to reach out and grab your wrist.

His hand closes around your wrist just before you both plunge into the river.

All sense of direction is lost in the current.

Water rushes around him, pressure changing.

He tightens his grip on your wrist.

Light is visible.

Warriors feels you try to get to the light, so he kicks his feet to try and help, still holding your wrist.

There's pressure and then -

Warriors breaks the surface in time to see you.

You give shuttering, wheezing coughs.

He hopes this is the worst of your problems.

-------

Next - wip

Taglist: @danyzta @vrsin @silver-the-pendejo @tulip-does-stuff @justanotherweeb666 @yourlocaltreesimp @blueberrysungie @victoryssong23 @shu-leepy @sleepifonlyigoti @sour-patch-delight @phlying-squirrel @pumpkincitrus @krys0210 @theregoeskittykat @fuckingfaraway @doodle-with-rhy @luxreader

[milatiny-xx]

once upon a dream | j.yh

pairing: jeong yunho x fem!reader summary: when yunho finds you curled up on the couch after a nightmare, he holds you close to comfort you. you like being in his arms, but you need more. tags: classic nightmare trope, images of being trapped in a prison cell (it's just the nightmare but still), mild hurt/comfort | 18+ MDNI — lead up to smut (no smut yet but if anyone's gonna get it yunho probably will first lol), dry humping, praise, teasing wc: 3.0k a/n: i blushed writing this. also NOTHING in this world is as satisfying as finding a random aesthetic pic on pinterest that ACTUALLY RESEMBLES one of the members (cuddling pic above). i also discovered this while i was looking and why does it genuinely look like him im screaming???? x

⊹₊⟡⋆ masterlist | taglist ⊹₊⟡⋆

You gasp, eyes blinking rapidly. Confused and dazed, you sit up in bed. You run a hand over your face. Your heart is pounding in your chest, aching as if you've been running for hours. As you try to remember where you are and remind yourself that you're perfectly safe, tears brim in your eyes.

You glance down next to you and see Yunho still fast asleep. He looks so peaceful and sweet—round cheeks squished into the pillow, lips slightly ajar. The last thing you want to do is wake him up.

Sniffing, you carefully pull the covers back and make your way quietly into the living room. You curl up on the couch, tucking your knees in toward your chest. Even though you're far enough away from Yunho that he probably won't hear you, you bury your head into your knees.

And then you cry.

It's been a while since you had a nightmare like this. Everything felt so real. You could still remember the panic in your chest when your mind made you see yourself caged inside of a metal prison. You yanked on the iron bars, screamed for help, thrashed against the walls but nothing helped. You were trapped in a dingey, dark place with no light but plenty of terrible sounds. Screams and shouting and crying seemed to come from all around you, but you could never figure out what was making all those noises.

And the worst part you remember so vividly: somehow knowing that no one knew you were trapped there. They couldn't find you and weren't coming to save you.

Your fingertips dig into your knees, and you rock back and forth as you try to catch your breath.

You know you're safe, you know you're loved, you know you're-

"Princess?"

Yunho's deep, smooth voice draws a gasp from your chest. Your head snaps up, angling toward his silhouette in the hallway. You go silent, hoping maybe he would be too tired to deal with you and just go back to sleep. Unsurprisingly, he reaches for the lamp instead. You drop your head back between your arms just before the warm, soft light floods the room.

"Ah, jagiya, what are you doing in here?"

You don't respond, squeezing your eyes tighter instead. A few seconds later, you hear the distinctive sound of his feet padding across the floor toward you.

"Jagiya..." he whines in a sing-song voice. "What's going on?"

"Nothing, I'm okay, Yuyu. Just go back to bed, please."

The couch dips under his weight as he sits down next to you. A shiver ricochets through your spine as his palm smooths over your back. His other hand wraps gently around your arm, and he tries to pull it away from your face. You groan, flexing to keep him from succeeding.

"What's wrong? Let me see."

He tries again, but you hold firmly. He clicks his tongue disapprovingly. The next time, he maneuvers both of his hands around your wrists and forces you to open up. At first, you fight him but give up easily. You know he won't let you alone until you answer his questions. Once uncovered, he slides a knuckle under your chin and tilts your face up toward him.

You sniff, feeling another wave of tears coming on. Your ears and cheeks feel hot with embarrassment—you hate having him see you cry over something that's not even real. But his eyes soften when they land on you. He grimaces, eyebrows pushing together.

"I thought I heard you crying," he mutters, cupping your cheeks with both hands and brushing his thumbs under your eyes to wipe away the stream of drying tears there. "What's wrong, jagi? Did I do something?"

"No," you reply quickly, shaking your head. "No, you didn't do anything. I just...it's stupid, but I had a nightmare."

"Ah, okay. That's okay. Everyone has nightmares sometimes. You wanna tell me about it?"

You stare up at him, your lips quivering in their frown. His eyes look so pretty, deep brown and sparkling even in the dim light of the lamp. His gaze is trained on your forehead, focused as he brushes your messy hair back into place.

Yes, of course you want to tell him about it. But you really don't want to cry while doing it.

"I-I don't know if I can right now," you stutter and sniff as a fresh round of tears slip down your cheeks.

He nods, his stare meeting yours. He swivels on the couch so that he's sitting cross-legged facing you. He gently tugs at your arm, encouraging you to do the same. You obediently shift, scooting forward so that your knees are touching. He takes your hands in his, his thumb running back and forth over your knuckles.

"Then don't tell me now. You tell me when you're ready. But..." he pushes your hands upright and threads his fingers through yours, "I can't have my baby crying. So, what can I do now to help?"

You smile at his sweetness. He returns the gesture with a silly grin. (a/n: he's so precious send help) He reaches up to brush away your tears once again.

"Um...I'm not sure. My chest hurts, and I still feel anxious. Maybe just something to distract me?"

"Distract you? Okay, let's see..." His finger absentmindedly taps against the back of your hand as he thinks. "Ah, how about this—why don't we make up a good dream so that you can forget about the bad one?"

"Make up a good dream? What do you mean?"

"I'll show you. Close your eyes."

You quirk an eyebrow, unconvinced. He chuckles, holding up his hand in front of your eyes and waving it.

"Close! I'll do it with you." Giggling, you follow his direction. "Now, the first step to making a dream is that we have to go somewhere pretty. Where do you want to go?"

"Uhhh...the beach?"

"Okay, we're at the beach. We're sitting on the sand. The sun is shining and it's warm outside—but it's not too hot—it's just right. The water is blue and sparkling. What do you hear?"

"Seagulls...waves...maybe the wind blowing through the trees."

"Mhm," he hums in approval. "Good. What else do you notice?"

"You're sitting right next to me with your arm around my shoulder. And I'm drawing shapes in the sand."

"Nice, very nice." You can practically hear the smile in his voice. "Now I want you to imagine something really special happening. Don't tell me what it is, just imagine it. It's your dream. Anything can happen—whatever you want, jagi."

You breathe deeply, in and out, as you let your imagination take over. Surprised by how creative your subconscious is, you feel heat creeping over your face at what you're seeing. Suffice it to say, there are lots of limbs and very little clothing.

Invested in your selfish fantasy, you jump a little at the unexpected feeling of Yunho's finger gently tapping the tip of your nose.

"Open." You force your eyes apart. Yunho gazes back at you softly. "There, see. No more crying tonight."

You give him a grateful smile.

"Thank you, Yuyu. You're too good to me."

He shakes his head, waving dismissively.

"Nothing is too good for my baby girl. Come here and let me hold you."

You crawl onto his lap, wrapping around him like a koala and burying your head in the crook of his neck. He winds his arms around your back to hold you tightly against him. One of his hands slides onto the back of your head. He rhythmically runs his touch back and forth across your hair. You close your eyes for just a moment, comfortable in his embrace.

"There you go," he says quietly. "Feel better?"

"Mostly."

"Mostly? Well, that's not good enough. What else can I do for you, princess?"

You furrow your eyebrows, thinking.

Then, straightening your head, you meet his gaze. His eyes widen expectantly. You smile, biting your tongue as you gingerly run your finger across the adorable morning blush on Yunho's cheeks. He always gets it when he first wakes up.

You touch trails down, working its way to his lips. He watches you with interest, his eyelashes fluttering as he studies your face. Adoringly, you brush your finger over his mouth.

He purses his lips, kissing the tip of your digit, and you giggle. He laughs, too, the sound a welcome vibration against your fingertip. You tap his lip twice, and then move your hand to tap your own mouth.

He angles his head, giving you that look that he always does right before he comes in for a kiss—chin pointing up, slight smile playing at his lips, slightly narrowed eyes. Carefully lowering your face, you meet him in the middle to press your lips sweetly against his. He kisses you back, matching your pressure.

You pull back, not really paying attention to the way your fingers are playing with the hair at the nape of his neck. He stares up at you, and his eyes shifting from side to side. He clears his throat and sticks his lips out, asking for another kiss. You giggle and move forward again.

Though you go in with chaste intentions, Yunho has other plans this time. His grip on the back of your head tightens to pull you in deeper. He kisses you slowly as your fingers slide up into his hair. The hand on your spine drops and curves around your lower back.

In response to his touches, you start to kiss him more feverishly, opening your mouth wider. His fingers slip under the hem of your shirt—by accident or on purpose, you don't know. Either way, you sigh at the sensation of his touch on your bare skin.

He catches your bottom lip between his teeth, gently tugging on it. You don't mean to, but your body responds automatically to his sudden aggression. You gasp, legs clenching around his waist. His head jerks back an inch. His hold on your body tightens. You stare down at him in surprise, frozen and not sure what he's thinking.

You've only been dating for a couple of months, and you've both agreed to take it slow. You care about each other too much to mess this up. So, even though you've spent plenty of nights wrapped in his arms and plenty others kissing each other, you haven't actually gotten the chance to do much more. Of course, you've thought about it. A hundred times. You've imagined it a hundred more times and always wondered when the right moment would come up to initiate it.

Deciding this is as good a time as any, you grasp at his shirt. With a fistful of fabric, you pull his mouth back to yours. He grunts quietly as his face crashes against you. But he doesn't hesitate to give you what you want. He kisses you hard and fast, saliva stringing between you.

With your eyes closed, you hardly realize your world is tipping upside down until you feel his weight pressing down on top of you. You sink into the couch.

His tongue darts out to lick across your bottom lip, and you open up for him without question. You can't help but moan quietly into his mouth. Your body feels like it's on fire—every nerve ending vibrating at the same time. Your legs are still wrapped securely around his waist, but he's propping himself up to keep distance between you.

Suddenly frustrated by the lack of contact there, your hands slide down his sides in search of the waistband of his pants. Finding it, you tug at it to try and pull his hips down against you. His mouth slips from yours. Your head instinctively moves forward, searching for him but finding empty air between you.

"Jagi," he gasps. Your eyes flash open. "If I start...I-I don't know if I can stop."

"Don't. Don't stop," you respond, your tone mirroring how frantically you need his touch.

He pulls back, his eyes flicking between yours.

"You want me to keep going?"

"Yes..." you plead, practically begging. "I..."

"What?"

"I..."

He stops, propping himself up on one arm to look at you. His eyebrows are knit in concern, but his big eyes are still cloudy and dark. His plump lips are parted. You're mesmerized by the way they open and close slightly with every breath.

"What is it, baby girl?" he whispers.

You can barely breathe. How can he say such sweet, gentle words when he's looking at you like that?

"This was what I dreamed about, when you asked me to think of something happy. I imagined this. What it would be like, what it would feel like."

"Oh?" he asks, clearly amused. "Just how much did you imagine?"

Heat spreads across your face, burning the tips of your ears.

"Everything," you answer bashfully.

He smiles sweetly, tenderly brushing his fingers across your jaw.

"How am I doing then? Living up to your expectations?"

"Oh, trust me. You're better. So much better."

"Yeah? Just like you imagined? My hands on you like this?"

You shiver as his hand runs up your leg, his thumb brushing along the sensitive skin on the inside of your thigh.

"Yeah..."

"Were they here?"

You nod, frozen under his addictive touch. You wiggle uncomfortably as his thumb draws circles on the skin there. Your stomach is starting to feel tight, that familiar coiling feeling building.

"Where else were they, princess? Show me."

You breathe shakily, reaching for his hand. You guide his touch, placing it flat on your stomach and moving it up your body and onto your breast. He inhales sharply, his hand hovering over top of your chest. You curl your fingers over his, letting him know that it's okay to touch you as much as he wants. His palm curves over your breast, and you sigh at the deliciously sore sensation when he kneads you. His thumb brushes over your nipple. Your head tilts back in pleasure. Yunho takes the opportunity to attach his lips to your jaw, kissing down your neck.

He continues massaging your chest while his tongue and teeth work on your throat. Your fingers tangle in his hair, threading his soft locks through your digits. You moan softly as he bites and sucks on your skin. Your legs tighten around him again, pulling his hips down against yours. A gasp slips from your mouth when you feel him hard against the inside of your thigh. Impatiently, you buck your hips upward. Yunho chuckles against your neck.

"So impatient," he mutters.

Despite his teasing, his hips shift forward. You catch your lip between your teeth, giggling breathily. Yunho moves away from your neck. His eyes are like fire when he looks at you. He smirks, and you whimper. He looks so beautiful like this, hungry and dominant. You need more.

Your hips move upward again to meet his. He leans down, pressing his forehead against yours. You kiss him harshly, and your tongue explores his mouth while he rocks against you. Your gut churns, that delicious feeling growing in your lower stomach.

"Such a good girl," he mutters against your lips. "So sweet."

You don't know why—if it was his honeyed words or the intensity of his gaze or the leftover anxiety from your nightmare—but your chest suddenly aches terribly. Your face screws up, lips slipping from Yunho's into a frown. You inhale sharply and whimper as if you're about to cry. Before you can cover it up, Yunho notices. He lifts his head, his hips freezing as he examines you.

"Y/N...are you okay?" he asks, seemingly a little panicked at your sudden outburst of emotion.

You sniff, forcing yourself to nod. You blink rapidly and try to push your tears away, but one manages to escape and drips down the side of your face. Yunho clicks his tongue, wiping the tear away with his knuckle.

"I'm okay. I'm okay. Don't stop please."

"Jagi..."

"Yunho, please."

You watch his eyes, gaze drifting between his left and right as you plead with him to keep making you feel like this. But his eyes soften, all of that hungry desire melted from his stare. He shakes his head, sighing.

"No. Not like this," he says. "Not when you're emotional like this. I don't want you to be sad. It'll taint everything."

"N-no, I'm not upset. I won't cry anymore. I can handle it. I swear."

He huffs, pressing his lips together firmly. He leans up, sitting back on his knees. Your legs unlatch from behind his waist, falling limp beside his body. You pout. He reaches forward, sliding his palm onto your cheek. He brushes his thumb across your cheekbone and smiles.

"As much as I love seeing you beg for it," his eyes sparkle as he admits it, "I want our first time together to be special. No tears, okay?"

Your frown deepens, but you reluctantly nod. You know he's right. At the very least, you know your boyfriend well enough to understand that he will not budge one centimeter when he's made up his mind.

"Okay. But soon, Yunho? Promise me."

He nods, clearly satisfied with your answer.

"Soon, jagi. I promise." He carefully untangles himself from your limbs and slides his arms under your body. "Come on, let's get you back to bed. It's late, and I'm tired. Someone woke me up in the middle of the night."

You huff but hook your arms around his neck as he lifts you up. With ease, he carries you into the bedroom bridal style. Your heart flutters at how gently he places you on top. He crouches beside the bed, propping his chin on the mattress. His fingers brush your hair back. He presses a sweet kiss to your forehead before settling into the bed behind you. He wraps his arms tightly around you, pulling you close to him.

Your eyes droop closed. A wave of exhaustion sweeps over you, Yunho's warmth and sweet smell a welcome comfort. He kisses the top of your head and then tucks you beneath his chin. In a matter of seconds, your breathing has synced with his and sleep is threatening to pull you under. Before you manage to pass out, you hear Yunho's soft whisper.

"Dream of me, princess. I'll dream of you, too. Sleep well."

taglist: @rileylovescats @wooyoungsbrat

[cno-inbminor]

evermore

a/n: don't know what hit. not sure when or how this will continue. skimmed through, not thoroughly edited. plot: your daughter, emerus, is getting married, leading you and sylus to see each other more and more, despite being separated after so many years. (middle-aged parents reader x sylus that are legally still married but have been separated for years) TW: mentions of divorce, growing old, reader and sylus are both going through it, vague descriptions of the past, slight cliffhanger wc: 4.1k

           Sylus knows this is a dream. Anyone who knew the man would know that he would never be found in a state of denial of anything, even after all the years that have passed. But when it comes to you, all logic is thrown out the window.

           “A-che, let’s go!” your voice calls out, and he turns towards the sound with a foggy mind. He observes in morose silence at the endless field of tarus flowers before seeing your figure at the top of the hill, your hand beckoning him over.

           He can indulge himself one more time, right?

           Each step is like trudging through muddy waters, as if his strength and stamina had left him long ago. Sylus can see your growing impatience, but he starts getting nervous – you don’t seem to be any closer than you were minutes ago. He’s been walking for a while now, so why does it seem like he hasn’t made any type of progress?

           Sylus is nothing but persistent – after all, he would go to the ends of the Earth for you. He needs to walk for eternity with you as the end goal? Absolutely no shadow of a doubt that he would do so. But he is tired. “Hold on,” he tries to call out to you. There is no sign that you heard him, and he can see the liveliness from earlier start to fade away. “Please wait,” he says as he tries to pick up his speed, finally able to break out into a full run. You’re finally getting closer, and excitement pricks at his skin.

           When you look away from him, the excitement dissolves into panic. He knows that gesture, that posture all too well. More familiar than he’d like to admit, but it will never cease to haunt him after all these years. Don’t walk away from me, his mind races, matching the gait of his sprint. Not again, please–

           “I’m tired of waiting,” you confess after a heavy, burdensome sigh. “I’m tired of waiting for you to come to me.”

           “Sweetheart, I–” His chest seizes. He can’t remember the last time he felt so out of breath, like his lungs were going to stop working at any second.

           “You only kept me close when you wanted. I thought–” You pause to sniffle, and Sylus’s heart shatters at the trail of tears down your cheeks. “I thought I could wait forever, but I can’t.” Your voice grows softer, your airway closing up more and more. “I love you, Sylus.”

           Fuck, why can’t he run any faster than this? This wasn’t a dream. This was his worst nightmare on repeat for the nth time. And it always ends the same exact way – the same look, the same hair, the same scene, the same pandemonium, and the same cadence in your last words.

           “But I have to go.”

           And even though your parting sentence is the quietest you’ve been, it’s the loudest he’s ever heard you.

           As he blinks away the sweat and grime, the sunset bleeds into darkness, hard edges etching between shadows of, what he realizes now, the furniture in his bedroom. No trace of light exists aside from the sliver that peeks through the blackout curtains to his right. It takes another blink to recognize the line of shelves along his wall, filled with vinyls and tomes and photo albums. The occasional picture frames that have collected dust serve as decoration and less painful reminders of the life he once had. But his favorites sit on the nightstand closest to him — one of you, another of you and him, and another with your daughter when she was a toddler in his arms.

           Sylus slips out of bed with care, leaning behind to stretch out his back. He’s starting to feel the weakness in his knees, a sure sign of time and age. In the bathroom, his reflection stares back at him – always known for his sharp jawline, angular features, bright, crimson eyes, yet they appear softened before him.

           It’s expected, really. The beauty of youth would never last forever, even for someone like Sylus. Crow’s feet are more prominent, wrinkle lines beginning to show, his hair having lost a part of its shine sometime ago, and the skin around his neck is starting to loosen. A silver fox, many would call him. Over the years, a number of people – young, older, and similar aged – have approached him with attraction seeping through each gesture. But then they glance down at his left hand, and the mix of platinum and obsidian that sits on his ring finger is everything they need to know. At that time, most of them politely back out, but a fair share find it as a challenge. After all, why would a married man sit alone at the bar like the weight of the world sat on his shoulders?

           Sylus rejects their advances with aloofness and curt words, and they happen so often that his usual bartenders have to fight their hardest to hide their snickering. Never once have they suggested to him to take the ring off – well, except for one who had no knowledge of Sylus at all, and nobody had warned him before his first shift. Needless to say, that bartender made sure to never ask again and keep to themselves because they’d do anything to not be on the other end of their boss’s withering glare. Occasionally Sylus will step behind the bar, which ends up being a treat for everyone with bigger tips. In fact, someone had once recorded him make some drinks with little spurts of working flair, and it got popular enough that his own daughter sent it to him, signed by, “omg dad, someone recorded you!! you’re viral now LOL 😂😂” and “i suggest you not look at the comments, just fyi, but a lot of people were disappointed by your ring hahahaha”. When he had decided 30 minutes afterwards to finally reply, she slid in a “and yes, i sent it to mom” with a screenshot of their text conversation.

          

Your way of trying to redirect the conversation brings up a corner of his lips for half a second. He remembers the indescribable pain in his chest when you came back together for the first time for her birthday (the guilt trip one that started a tradition), and he had noticed the ring was no longer perched on your left hand. His own had glistened under the bright lights, the contrast of its metal to the color of his skin making it stand out even more. Maybe you had seen it before he slipped it off in secret and tucked it into his pocket. Maybe you had noticed the way he instinctively kept his left hand in a pant pocket so he could fidget with the band, knowing that it would never be lost. Since then, he’s only ever taken it off when he knows you’ll be around. You had moved on, and that was something he had to live with.

           (Maybe if he hadn’t tried to spend so much effort making sure he wasn’t caught staring at you, he would’ve noticed the way you seemed to always have a hand by your neck, fingers messing with the necklace chain hanging around it for the very same reasons.)

           His own text conversation/thread with you sees very little activity. His daughter, who again, is getting married (where oh where did the time go?), had set up a group chat with the three of them under the guise of needing them to coordinate on things when needed. Sylus initially offered to take care of the entire cost of the wedding, one that you rejected with a curt text before delineating what you were planning to pay for, including percentages of items like the cake, the deposit for the venue, the cost of having an open bar, her wedding dress, and more. And perhaps his asking again if that really was okay came off just the littlest bit (like, really, infinitesimal) condescending, because you had not responded well: “If I said I can take care of it, then I can take care of it, Sylus. I’ve been setting money aside specifically for this event.”

           “Very well”, he had responded, as well as ignored the banner appearing with a message coming separately from his daughter with five eye-rolling emojis. Sylus has always wondered where her sass came from, and he likes to think it’s a good blend of him and you.

           His smart watch vibrates on his wrist, causing him to blink his way out of his reverie. It displays an alert to remind him that his daughter’s final dress appointment is in the next couple of hours, and he sighs. He never went on the previous shopping trips, leaving it to you and her. When she had been born, you had mentioned on several occasions to him that you would both rue and cherish the days you’re rifling through racks of silk and organza for her. He hadn’t wanted to ruin those moments, but after five seconds of begging from his daughter to at least come to the final fitting, he relented. She had made sure that you were already aware he was coming, and that there was nothing you could do about it. After one more look in the mirror, he dips his head down, turns on the sink, and starts his morning routine.

           Sylus pulls into the parking lot of the boutique about five minutes before the scheduled time. Stepping out, he scans the area to see if anybody else had shown up early and notices your car parked a few spots down. His daughter’s car was nowhere to be seen yet. A nervous tic shot through him. Alone? With you? Without their daughter as a buffer?

           He lets out a slow exhale, almost psyching himself up. “It’ll be fine,” he murmurs to no one as he slams the car door closed. “I’ve been through business deals hairier than this,” he continues to reassure himself, and that everything would be fine. So fine. He sees you at least twice a year, what’s the big deal now?

           One last breath, and he swings the door open.

           “Ah, and you must be the father! I could tell the resemblance right away,” the attendant greets in a cheery voice with an outreached hand. Sylus gives a small smile in agreement and shakes their hand.

           “Her mother is here already, I’m presuming.”

           “Yes, she arrived just a few seconds before you,” they say as they lead him into the main atelier. He immediately spots you sitting on a couch, your perfume still lingering in the air where you had walked before him. “Your daughter was so excited to have you today. It’s a shame you never came before!”

           “I had some meetings,” he lies in a practiced fashion. “And I’m sure there’s nothing I could really contribute.”

           “Oh nonsense,” they say, “Emerus mentioned you were quite the stylist yourself.”

           “Nothing compared to her and her mother, I assure you,” he quips.

           Your eyes finally meet his own, and part of him wants to die.

           You’re just…just so beautiful. Age has only made you more elegant, regal, untouchable, every bit the paragon of a goddess in his eyes.

           “I’ll go back to the front and wait for her there! Make yourself comfortable, help yourself to some champagne or water over there,” they chime, waving a hand over at the drink station before disappearing back around the corner.

           Breathe, he reminds himself like a teenage boy confronting his crush for the first time. “How have you been?” he asks in a soft voice.

           Did he sound nervous? Could you tell?

           “Good, and you?” you respond with a small smile of his own.

           “The usual,” he shrugs as he sits on the couch a comfortable distance away from you. Under normal circumstances (normal circumstances as in when you were all still living happily under one roof many many years ago), he would have pressed himself right up against you, slung an arm around your shoulder, and given you a peck on your temple with a squeeze – all of which he hasn’t done for over a decade now, so this isn’t new.

           The twitch in his fingers to do just that isn’t new either. Even now, after all this time.

           Silence wedges its way between you two as he searches for anything to say. He doesn’t get to hear your voice enough, so it sends him for a loop every time he does hear it.

           “Is she happy with it?” he decides on asking, staring at the dress sitting on one of the busts by the wall of mirrors.

           “Very,” you respond, warmth flooding your voice. “She couldn’t wait for today.”

           “Then that’s all that matters.”

           “Ma, ba!”

           Both of your heads swivel towards the sound of your daughter’s voice. He waves as she drags her maid-of-honor along, and he bends down for a hug when she gives him a hug after one to you. “Thanks for coming, Dad,” she says in his ear, her voice also warm and soft like yours, her mother’s.

           “Of course,” he replies, pulling back and taking a good look at her. “Aiya, wǒ de nǚ'ér zhēn de yāo jié hūn le. Zhǎng dà le.”   [Aiya, my daughter is really getting married. All grown up.]

           “I’ve been grown,” she sasses back in a playful manner, no real annoyance evident in her voice at all. “I’m excited for you to see the dress!”

           “Well he can’t see it if you stay out here. Come on, let’s get you dressed.”

           Whether it be luck or a curse, he’s left to his own devices as the two most important women in his life plus one of their best friends and the attendant from earlier disappear behind the changing partition. They speak in hushed voices and giggles until Emerus calls out, “Alright Dad, I’m coming out!”

           He sits at attention and waits patiently for her to step on the raised platform and smooth out any wrinkles she sees, aided by you and your maid-of-honor. When they deem it perfect, she flashes him a bright smile (she truly is your daughter, he muses). “Well, what do you think?”

           Sylus is already nodding before he can say anything, but any words that would’ve left his mouth are stuck in his throat because the sight before him is familiar. The design of the dress isn’t the exact same, but it’s enough to send him flying back down memory lane to the day when he stood at an altar and impatiently waited for you to finally be close enough and call you his wife. Those words begin to actively choke him, and his eyes shimmer just the slightest at the sight before him and the ghost of his past, all colliding into one.

           “Beautiful,” he manages to say before looking over at you. “Gorgeous,” Sylus adds on with his gaze still stuck on you, as if to ask, “Are you seeing this as well? Do you remember too?”

           Sylus pays no mind to her friend and attendant now talking through the details and last minute fixes, especially since you’re walking back to his side now. His eyes follow you, and it’s quite pathetic how touched he is when you place a hand on his arm. “She was insistent on finding one like mine,” you inform him. “Mine is a bit too old-fashioned, and we luckily found one that was very similar in essence.”

           He can only hum in understanding, still so incredibly fixed on you and your hand. It burns him, through cotton and all, and he takes in the wrinkles around your knuckles.Your nails remain unblemished, which means you’re in good health at least. In his examination, he spots a few strands of white amidst your locks. Had you two still been together, he would have you sitting on the bed in front of him, holding a pair of eyebrow tweezers and digging through to pluck those out at your behest. It would’ve become a nightly routine, something to laugh at and look fondly on when there are too many gray and white hairs to bother with. He always thought he would grow old with you.

           Two pats on his arm bring him back to his cruel reality, and when you finally look up at him, it’s like you know what he was envisioning, wishing for, longing for. “I’m going to help them out,” you tell him before walking away, and his finger twitches again. Your steps that widen the already gaping distance between you two continue to carry you away from him, but they are different from the steps he had seen behind his eyelids just this past night. You weren’t leaving leaving him in this case, and that’s more than he could ever ask for. 

           (“I’ll wait for you, I promise. I don’t want anyone else.”

            “You don’t need to, Sylus. I’d understand if you did find someone else.

            “I mean it,” he emphasizes again. His hand cradles your cheek, his thumb smoothing over the apple of your cheek. In a hushed, broken whisper, “I can wait for an eternity, and I will if I have to. There is no love purer than mine.”)

           -

           When your daughter had announced to Sylus that she was done fidgeting with the dress, you had immediately trained your gaze onto him, gauging his reaction. Since her teenage years, Emerus had always expressed how much she loved your wedding dress, and that she wanted to find one just like it whenever she gets married. Even then, you had already told her that her taste in fashion may change over time, so it would be completely understandable if she wanted something completely different. But here you are, ten-or-so years later, seeing it with your own eyes. And you wondered if he would be just as affected as you were the first time she tried it on.

           (That night, you had gone home and rewatched the video that was made of the wedding for the first time since the separation. Needless to say, your eyes were extremely puffy the next morning.)

           Based on his stunned expression, you knew he was thinking about your wedding, but which part specifically? Was he thinking about your first dance? Your first kiss in front of a crowd when you two were officially announced as husband and wife? How you looked walking down the aisle?

           When he glanced at you, your breath hitched. The unguarded, desperate, longing look was more apparent than you had ever seen, and you most definitely noticed how the crimson in his eyes seemed to shine too brightly before he blinked. It was difficult to fight off your own tears as the world around you fell away. All that mattered was him and the frayed, red string of fate between you two.

           “Gorgeous,” he had said, and his voice alone commanded you to walk toward him. Nothing could stop you from approaching him with a comforting hand on his arm. The warmth of his skin sears you through his sleeve, and you allow yourself to be selfish by leaving your hand there. “She was insistent on finding one like mine,” you told him, voice on the verge of shaking like a leaf. “Mine is a bit too old-fashioned, and we luckily found one that was very similar in essence.”

           His gaze was glued on your hand long enough for you to awkwardly pat his arm twice before pulling it back. Maybe he was uncomfortable. Were you being too familiar? Did he think you were sending mixed messages? Were you sending mixed messages?

           Do you dare to allow yourself to believe that Sylus misses you as much as his eyes seem to say?

           No.

           “I’m going to help them out,” you say before returning to your daughter’s side. Emerus gives you no time to think before asking for your opinion on a last minute stitch in the back. On the inside, you mentally slap yourself twice, once on each cheek. This isn’t about you. It’s about your daughter and her wedding, even if she is swathed in a near-replica of your dress. “Any tighter and you’ll be left with no room to breathe,” you warn. “It’ll be a long night, and you’ll need what little time you have to eat to get through the whole thing. The dress won’t be falling off, so I think you’ll be okay without it.”

-

Just because you've known for a while now what the cost of the dress would be, doesn't mean you can't wince a little when you tap your card on the credit card terminal. And yes, you've been prepared for this for quite some time, but it doesn't stop you from lamenting over how expensive weddings can be. Yet when you turn and see the blissful smile on your daughter's face, it makes it all worth it.

You can't help but be drawn to the man standing next to her. Sylus stands by with all the fatherly fondness the universe has to offer and more. Rays of sunshine come through the window, partially obscured by the wedding dresses out on display, and they highlight the faint wrinkles around his eyes. For years, you thought it would be impossible for him to age even the slightest, having been blessed with phenomenal skin and the drive to keep up a regimen consisting of adequate exercise, a healthy diet, and a skincare routine. Even in the early days of Emerus’s infancy when she would wake in the night, he only looked a little tired on the worst days while you looked like you got tossed around in a tornado before being spat out onto the ground.

An old daydream creeps in, a flashing sight of entwined hands, wrinkled and sunken in with age, but no less full of love and adoration. They take slow but steady steps along the trail in a plain filled with flowers and blooms. It was the peaceful ending to a life that you once thought was finally in your hands. But you ruined it all, and there was no one to blame but yourself.

Along the way somewhere, you felt that Sylus had stopped wearing his heart on his sleeve for you to see. It was apparent – radiant almost – for everyone else, especially your daughter. And after she turned ten, you noticed that Sylus was quieter around you, a little less expressive.

By no means was he a neglectful husband – in fact, he was almost perfect. He knew your favorite flowers, your favorite foods for each emotion you could possibly think of, never missed an anniversary or events when a plus-one was expected. But those anniversary dinners became quiet affairs, soundscapes of silence filled by metal against ceramic. Passionate nights dissolved into faux serenity. Tucking you under his arm began to feel mechanical, as if he was too kind to ever tell you that, in actuality, he wanted some distance and space in bed at night.

He did not return until the night you brought up the separation, but it was too late at that point. You were stuck too deep in the black hole of your envy and greed, your selfishness and immaturity (which therapy would tell you a couple of years later that you were not, in fact, selfish or immature), to feel worthy of Sylus’s endless apologies that you didn't think he needed to give. No matter how much he tried to reassure you that he would fix everything, to shoulder the burden of picking up the pieces of your shattered soul, you couldn't find it in yourself to accept it. How could you?

Sylus turns to look at you. Out of habit, you steel yourself for what is to come – the guarded look in his eyes, the slight tensing of his shoulder, his smile thinner and more muted.

But seconds go by without him doing any of the sort. The affection he regards you with sends you back to the early days of your relationship, the never-ending honeymoon era that held up against the removal of your rose-tinted glasses. They almost seem to beg you in earnest – for you to understand, to accept that after all these years…

He still loves you like no other.

[cloversnstrawberries]

YOU LIKE LABYRINTH????? I love love love David bowie since i was little and loveeeeee anything with him with(人´∀`)♪

Please feel free to post anything you feel like about it!!! Imagines or full works or whatever, you wrote jareth so well💔💔💔

Have a good night:D🏝

"metamorphosis" platonic!yandere!jareth & past runner!new fae!preteen!gn!reader [oneshot] ! !

masterlist !

description; You were once a runner of the Labyrinth, one of the many that failed to complete the challenge in time-- but in a desperate plea to save your younger sibling from becoming a Goblin, you volunteered to stay in their stead. Too old to become a Goblin, you became a 'guide' meant to lead runners astray; the Goblin King should've known better to think you would've actually helped him in that way. Of course you'd disobey him, but for some reason, he doesn't seem all that bothered about it.

additional notes; heeey... how ya'll dooinnggg... I accidentally took a bit of a break because i was having seizures and needing to be hospitilized!! whoopsie!! even though i don't post on ao3, the curse still hit me. but i'm better now!!! and i finally finished this!! i hope i did well!!! i also literally lOVE david bowie, i also love 80s, dark fantasy, jim henson & jennifer conneoly and i blame it all on Labyrinth. or most of it at least. YIPPEE

warnings; possessive behavior, jareth being cryptic, jareth is non-human therefore does not abide by human culture/morals nor understand it fully, past kidnapping, reader took the place of their younger sibling after failing to complete their run, non-consensual body modification (reader unknowingly becomes a fae), restraints (reader's wrists/hands are tied), and if there's anymore i miss, please lmk!!! once i write something, i seem to instantly forget it </3

w/c; 4.1k

It was supposed to be a little joke-- you wishing your sibling away to The Goblin King. It was just a story, obviously; you'd said it to scare them, that's all.

You never thought it could actually be real, otherwise you wouldn't have done it. It was just a fairytale--! but you found it rather difficult to cling onto that idea when The Goblin King appeared before you, in the flesh; telling you to either run his Labyrinth or give up right then and there.

Go back to your life without your sibling, that he'd use his magic to fill the gap they left in everyone else's mind. Wipe their chubby little face from family photos, make it seem like their school desk was always empty; their half of the room would be gone, and it'd seem like it was always just your room.

But you'd still know, even if The Goblin King tried to wipe your memory or whatever, you know that, deep down, you'd still feel like something was wrong. A nagging itch in the back of your mind, that there was something missing.

It'd drive you mad, not knowing what that something was. But even more-so, if you did remember them, it'd drive you insane. The idea that you could've saved them from your stupid mistake, but didn't take the chance.

13 hours seemed like plenty of time to get it done; but The Goblin King played dirty. You should've known, that he wouldn't make it easy for you. When the clock chimed 13, appearing in front of your face, a pit formed in your stomach.

In a last ditch effort, as The Goblin King appeared before you once again, stood beside the intricate golden clock-- you begged, pleading that there had to be another way.

By the end of it, you traded places. Your freedom for your younger sibling's, who got to return home under the impression that this was all one big dream. Got to come home to their own room, no traces of you left; got to greet your parents as their only child.

Like it'd always been that way.

Obviously, you weren't so lucky. In place of your little sibling getting turned into a goblin, you were now tasked with being a 'guide' for the new runners.

You were supposed to guide them away from the Labyrinth, convince them that it wasn't worth it to continue on. That whoever they wished away was a lost cause, and there was no point in trying.

The Goblin King should've known better than to think you'd go along with it. You know that he's watching your every move, he has eyes all over-- in form of his subjects, the creatures lining the Labyrinth, his crystal balls, and probably some other means that you aren't yet privy to.

There's no solid way to tell how long you've been here, but you keep track of it by how many runners come and go. Time works strangely here, you're sure of it. Why wouldn't it? The Goblin King was already capable of so much more.

So far, you've encountered 7 runners. 3 of which claimed to be from the past, 2 who didn't speak any language you knew, and one that was from the near future. The 7th was eerily close to you, in a similar spot as you'd been.

Her name was Sarah, and she, by far, had been the one to make it the furthest. From what you've heard, she made it. She did what you couldn't, and saved her little brother at no expense to herself.

You wouldn't know, since you got a bit too bold in your way of helping her; you were 'deactivated', in a way. You just collapsed suddenly, on the groups way to the Goblin city. Fallen into a deep sleep,

One you, realistically, should not have woken up from. You weren't dumb, you knew what happened to those who disobeyed The Goblin King past the point of his own amusement.

And you knew that, at least on some level, he must've known you were helping the other runners. But he must've found your efforts entertaining, didn't see it as a real threat.

Not until you succeeded in what you thought was a pointless kind of endeavor, and actually helped a runner succeed where so many others had failed. You can't take all the credit--

But you're going to take the brunt of the punishment for it, you're certain. Yes, Hoggle had also been a large help to Sarah; so had Ludo, Sir Didymus, and Ambrosius;

In The Goblin King's mind, though, you were different. You were not his subject, you were not a creature of the Labyrinth. Before you arrived, he'd never had any issues like this. With his subjects defecting like they had,

You were the perfect scapegoat, you realize now. Sat in front of The Goblin King's throne, legs criss-cross-apple-sauce and your arms bound behind you with... vines, you believe; you've come to expect the worse.

For a while now, The Goblin King has been sitting in his throne, staring at you. Studying you, like you were the most interesting thing in the world. The throne room was eerily silent, only faint, very faint, sounds from outside could be heard from here.

And for a while, you'd been zoned out. Eyes on The Goblin King, but not looking at him. Eyes glazed over, hardly blinking-- off in another world. A world where you didn't do this to yourself, still living happily with your parents and younger sibling.

"Human's are stubborn little things, aren't they?" Is what broke the silence, and you jolted in place at the suddenness of it. Quickly, you blinked away any residual dryness from your eyes, before casting your eyes to the ground.

It was interesting, the stones were uneven and different colors. Some where more sparkly than others, some were a normal gray while others were fantastical shades of purple, or green, or something of the like.

You weren't here to admire the floor, though.

A few beats of silence passed, before you realized he wanted a response. Voice croaky, throat dry from fear, you quickly agreed "...Yeah." You don't know what he wants from you, in any sense of the word.

He leaned forward in his throne, arms folded and braced atop his knees. On reflex, you look up at him to see how his hair fell around his face, framing it like you imagine a halo would to an angel, in a tangential kind of way.

Which he very much isn't, but he was ethereal like one. That's how Fae used to lure in weary travelers and lost children in the woods, yeah? Their beauty?

He studied you for a few moments more, before suddenly saying "You've began to change." Well that was-- cryptic. And you should knew better than to prod, you really should--

And you do, but that doesn't mean to you heed it.

"How?" Something you couldn't quite name curled deep in your gut, a primal kind of terror that you've never felt before. Not like your are now. The Goblin King didn't respond immediately, and you feared the worse.

You feared that you'd ticked him off even more than you already did, with how you (supposedly) paved the way for a runner to conquer the Labyrinth. Something that didn't happen very often, you've been told.

It should've brought relief, when he opened his mouth to speak-- and didn't seem angry. But you can never tell with him, you think. Fae are tricky like that, or so you've heard. Despite being in his... employ(?) for however long you've been, you don't interact with him much.

This would be your... 4th, maybe 5th if you're being generous, time meeting with him since you failed your run at his Labyrinth. You don't have much to go off of for his behavior, and for all you know, he could be livid right now. Masking it-- you aren't sure.

In a shocking turn of events, he decided against what he was going to say. Instead, he closed his mouth and reached forward-- it took all your energy not to violently flinch back, as he cupped your cheek with his hand.

Tender in a way you didn't think he could be, especially not to you. it's a trick, something in the back of your mind hissed. he's tricking you.

But you can't do anything about it, so you just sit impossibly still-- like a statue, as you try to keep your trembling under check. Staring into the eyes of your inevitable end, like you were, was bound to make you nervous.

Slowly, gentle in the way you'd be gentle with something fragile-- like he was handling a priceless porcelain doll, delicate and easy to crack with one wrong move--, the Goblin King guided your head to the left.

He kept you in place for a bit, studying you-- he had no care to disguise what his intent was, so you caught on rather quickly. You aren't sure how long you two stayed like that, until he gently guided your head to the right.

what's the point? you think to yourself, swallow past the lump in your throat. what is he getting out of this?

The relief you felt when he pulled his hand back was almost crushing in its weight, you felt like you could collapse from it right then and there. But you knew that the worst has yet to pass, as you chance a glance up, and catch the Goblin King looking lost in thought.

Reclining in his throne once again, elbow propped on an arm of the ornate chair, chin propped up against his hand-- he simply stared at you. Hands curling along the hem of your shirt, you dare to ask "What are you going to do with me?"

You reason with yourself, that it can't already get worse than this. The Goblin King despises when people 'talk back to him', when they don't play along with his tricks and games. Acts amiable until you become a disturbance to his ever-important amusement,

But really, you must already be at rock bottom with him. You're a scapegoat, you'd figured that out quite some time ago; the quicker this is over with, the better.

The stone floor wasn't the most comfortable surface to sit on, and your muscles began to ache from sitting in one position for so long. Being as tense as you had been for the last... however long you've been stuck here. Again, not very easy to tell the passage of time in a place like the Goblin King's realm.

And to your blatant shock, the Goblin King didn't immediately snap at you for interrupting his thinking. Instead, he... smiled, and it made your skin crawl. Scared you more than if he'd just straight-up yelled at you, or turned you into a toad or whatever.

"That's what I'm deciding on, little one." He's called you that before, little one, so that's not what caught you off guard. Not as much as the tone he said it in,

Usually, he was mocking about it. Like he couldn't bother to even remember your name, let alone use it; it lent him an air of superiority, the inherent power dynamics to that of an elder and a younger.

It sounded almost fond, not entirely devoid of what you could interpret as mocking, but softened to the point where it could pass for some friendly teasing.

A part of you wanted to push him, to tell him 'well decide faster, i'm getting bored' just to get it over with. The anxiety of it all was awful, waiting for him to come to an agreement with himself. In the end, he was probably well aware of it,

He just wanted to drag your torment out even further. Wring the last few drops of entertainment from you before tossing you aside-- you'd more than ran your course. You were an outsider, something strange between a runner and an inhabitant of the Labyrinth.

But you didn't tell him to get on with it, for one reason or another. You continued to sit there, staring up at him-- hoping he'd come to a conclusion soon. Whatever he did, it wouldn't be pleasant for you.

Execution? Banishment to the Barrens outside of the Labyrinth's walls? Sentencing you to become a punishing bag/training dummy for the Goblin warriors? Leave you to rot in an oubliette?

Really, the options were endless. maybe that's why he was having such a hard time choosing between them.

Suddenly, he broke the silence by cryptically asking "Have you noticed anything different?", and it was far too vague for you to even know where to begin "I... pardon me?"

His laughter sounded like bells, light and airy and chiming-- it felt more like a funeral toll than church bells. Slow and damning, a sentence of your demise in-of-itself. "Ah, excuse me for being so general about it. Allow me to specify,"

Leaning forward from his throne once again, the Goblin King's smile resembled that of a wolf. It took everything in you not to lean back--Jesus, you'd never noticed how sharp his canines were. It was disturbing. Lending him more of an uncanny feel than before,

"Have you felt any different, as of late?" Waving his hand aimlessly by the side of his head, he was begin listing different examples of these 'differences' he was looking for. "Maybe you can see better, you don't need to sleep as much, can go longer without food or water...?"

Cautiously, you nodded your head. But that's just an affect of the Labyrinth, isn't it? Even when you were running it, you didn't feel tired or particularly hungry during it.

Then again, maybe it was the fear of your situation and desperation to reach the castle in time that kept your mind off of those subjects. The human physiology can do funny things under immense and prolonged amounts of stress, you know that much.

Grin stretching impossibly wider, his teeth on full display-- almost like he was baring them, making it even more difficult to stop from shaking under his suffocating presence-- he leaned back into his throne, head thrown back,

And he laughed. The ones he'd done before paled in comparison to this one, like comparing the fire on a matchstick to the one of a forest fire's. Full bodied and winding, almost like a hyenas. Edging on hysterical, like this was the funniest thing he'd ever encountered.

You don't know if that meant something good, or something terribly bad for your fate. On one hand, maybe you were so entertaining he's decided to let you live-- but then again, he could be tricking you.

It's hard to tell with the Goblin King, with any type of Fae, as you've come to learn. Even the lesser sorts, like the little Fairies that reside just outside the wall of the Labyrinth that communicate only in squeaks and other vocalizations-- are tricky sorts of creatures.

Ethereal and beautiful, you'd expect them to be kind and benevolent. Not to take any chance they get to sink their awfully sharp teeth into your palm; not to eat, maybe just to cause needless harm. Giggling about it after the fact, taking joy in the distress they cause.

And you had half the mind to stand and try to run-- your hands were bound, but your legs were not. It's not like that'd make much of a difference, because either way you can't escape whatever the Goblin King has planned.

But still, some part of your pride remained. Made your gut twist in discomfort as he laughed right at you, not a care in the world-- why was he laughing? It irked you, more than if you'd known what exactly he was laughing about.

When he was done with the hysterics, his head tilted down as he delicately wiped a tear from the edge of his eye, you felt something... shift. Practically saw it, in the strange emotion(s) he held in his gaze when he opened his eyes to look at you again.

"Do you know how long you've been here?" And this you can answer completely honestly, shaking your head slowly. Refusing to take your eyes off of him now, afraid that if you do, he'll do something when you aren't looking. Then you'll never see anything again.

"You've been here... hm, I suppose it's been a decade or so by your standards." No-- that can't be it. He's lying! Or-- well, Fae can't lie, but he certainly has to be stretching the truth.

But time works differently in the Labyrinth, so that can't be much cause for concern. Despite that explanation, you can't ease the worry, or the fear curling around every part of your mind.

Leaning forward again-- good god, this man doesn't like to stay still, does he?-- he puts his hand on your head this time. If he noticed your flinch when he did so, he didn't comment on it.

Didn't do anything further, just kept his hand atop your head as he continued speaking "I'm not one to keep track of those sorts of things; but it's odd, now that the fact has come to my attention. You stopped aging shortly after you began your... tenure."

He sounded far too smug, calling your semi-involuntary stay in his realm, under his control-- as a tenure. Like this was some run-of-the-mill office job.

Jackass.

When he doesn't continue, you grow bold as time drags on in silence. Asking in a biting tone "So? The Labyrinth handles time weirdly. That doesn't mean anything." He snorts "My, you act as if you know my Labyrinth better than I do."

You bit your tongue on that one, it felt too much like bait. Like he wanted to coax you into a greater offense, just so he could snap at you for it. But that would be too logical for him, if he wanted to be mad at you, then he would've already done so, yeah?

The Goblin King hummed, his fingers began to card through your hair in what you assume was meant to be a reassuring gesture, but it only put you more on edge.

"But no, it does mean something." You don't know how to feel about it, when he takes his hand away from your head just to stand from his throne. Beginning to pace around the room, you try to follow his movements all the while.

The sly smile on his face let you know that he was more than aware of that fact. He must be basking in it, your unease. Your fear of what was to come "Do you know what it means, since you seem to know so much about my Labyrinth?"

Yeah, he was definitely baiting you-- but for what? Surely not to get mad at you, because, again, if he wanted to do that than he already would have. what was the point of this all? You asked yourself before responding.

Not like you had much choice, either way he'll get what he wants. Whatever that may be, well, you'll just have to wait and see.

"...I'm becoming apart of the Labyrinth?" That made the most sense. it didn't scare you nearly as much as it should, the idea that you're becoming apart of this realm-- because for all intents and purposes, you may as well already be apart of it.

An outsider in technical terms, still far too human to be a formally regarded resident of the realm; but you know you're never going to leave here. Not alive, at least-- and you'll never be back to your actual life.

Becoming apart of Labyrinth might be a blessing in disguise, really. Hopefully you don't lose yourself to madness, though. You'd like to keep as much of your mind as possible.

Maybe he'll spare you because you're becoming one of his subjects. Perhaps he thinks that means you'll have to obey his every whim--

Suddenly, he stops dead in his track-- facing away from you at first, he slowly turns, that wide, wolfish grin still on his face as he tilts his head to the side "Hmm, not quite! Closer than I thought you'd be, though."

Heart pumping faster than it ever had before, your vision blurred as the Goblin stepped forward. The click-click-click of his heeled boots made your heartrate spike, and just as your ears began to ring; your felt his hand tuck itself beneath your chin, pull your head up so you could truly look him in the eye.

"No, darling little nestling." ...Well, that was new! Miraculously, you held back a frown at the, uh, pet name(?). For now, at least. "Something similar, though."

Why does he hate being straight-forward? Does he always have to drag it out like this-- seriously, it was beginning to get on your nerves. It always did, but then again, your meetings with him were never this long, so you were never exposed to it in large increments.

He pouted, overdramatic and obviously fake "Aren't you going to ask me what I mean?" You want to stay quiet for once, not give him what he wants. The way his fingers ever-so-slightly dig into the flesh of your jaw, however, makes you grit out a "What do you mean?"

"Hm." He said, like he was going to comment on the tone you used, but he didn't do anything further like you thought he would. His grip loosened up, but his hand never stopped holding your head in place "The Labyrinth's taken a liking to you, supposes I've been lonely as of late."

You always found it strange, how he speaks about the Labyrinth like it was a living thing. And maybe it was-- you couldn't be sure, of course the Goblin King would know. So it probably is sentient, at least to some degree, but to what degree? You don't know.

There's some other evidence to prove that the Labyrinth isn't entirely inanimate, piecing it together lends truth to the idea that it isn't just some building or piece of land. That it was an entity, one that the goblin King supposedly had a close bond with.

"You have the Goblins?" You couldn't stop yourself from saying it, quickly shutting your mouth after saying it-- like that'd do anything to undo what you just said. Luckily (or maybe unluckily, you can't be too sure), Jareth didn't take it to heart. He just huffed, and raised one brow "And you think they'd make good company?"

"How can you be lonely with so many creatures-- The Goblins are always hanging around you." You're done for-- or maybe not. The Goblin King is so weird, never know if he'll be angered when talked back to, or if he'll find it entertaining and let you off the hook.

He rolled his eyes, before crouching down-- now at eye level, he seemed even more intimidating than before, believe it or not. "None of them are like me, all too simple minded for me to truly consider them company."

"I'm not either. If I was just a bit younger, I would've been a Goblin." You aren't too sure about the cutoff range for a Goblin was, but you'd guess around... 7 or 8 at the oldest. Bit of a reach, 'just a bit younger' was, but it was still kind of true. There was no set meaning for 'just' after all, could mean whatever you wanted in the moment.

His grin faltered for a moment-- you almost missed it, too focused on your throat closing up from fear in the moment, but happened to catch it by pure coincidence. It was reinstated just as quickly as it'd began to fall, but you know you saw something.

"But you aren't. You're becoming a Fae," His hand shifted from holding your chin to cupping the side of your face. Too familiar, too kind-- gentle, warm, like he actually cared for you. "I can't just toss you out after that, can I? It's quite obvious that you'd make a fantastic heir when the time comes."

You're just so lost that you don't even bring up why you were here in the first place-- you helped a runner to the end. If anything, you'd be the worst fit for an.. an heir!

"I'm not--" You try to argue, the Goblin King frowns and scoffs, snapping his fingers. Suddenly, your mouth shuts so quickly that your teeth click together with the force of it. "Hush. Nothing you can say will sway me on this,"

Other hand cupping the other side of your face, he shook your head side-to-side for a moment, grin back on his face as he continued to observe you. "Yes, I think you'd do quite nicely. You'll be the most spoiled child in the realm-- can't have anything less for my heir, now can I? How does that sound?"

awful. you think to yourself, but you find yourself unable to speak against it.

[hjsmermaid]

˚ ༘ 🎞️ ｡𖦹 ° 🎥 ...🍓 ˚ ༘ 🎞️ ｡𖦹 ° 🎥 ...🚬˚ ༘ 🎞️ ｡𖦹 ° 🎥

“ and even if i run away, give my heart a holiday, still, strawberries and cigarettes, always taste like you.. “

pairing ⋆˚࿔ ateez jung wooyoung x fem!reader

trope/au ⋆˚࿔ first love, bittersweet reunion, love vs career/dreams, high school sweet heart

genre ⋆˚࿔ coming-of-age, angsty sorta, hurt/comfort, songfic, reader who is on the edge of leaving her hometown to finally follow her dreams, she finds herself pulled back into the memories of a boy that she once loved: a runaway with cigarette kisses and strawberry-sweet summers. years later as she packs her life into boxes, the past resurfaces in scent, sound, but even more so, silence, reminding her that some things are never fully let go.

word count ⋆˚࿔ 3.8k

warnings ⋆˚࿔ cigarette smoking, themes of running away, and i think that’s it but lmk if i missed something!!:)

inspired by ⋆˚࿔

the memories never knocked. they drifted in like mist, soft and strange. occasionally, they came with the bitter trace of cigarettes on the wind as she pedaled through the wild grass, the ocean winking at her just beyond the sand mingling with greenery. other times they liked to wait in forgotten corners-like the day she found the little bottle tucked beneath moth-eaten clothes and trinkets. it’s label whispered some cheesy fragrant name like ‘strawberry daydreams.’ she sprayed it, just once, trying to remember what a strawberry daydream could possibly even smell like. that was all it took. it bloomed into visions: fence-hopping laughter, smoke laced with sugar, moonlit walks where the waves kept record of their conversations that she couldn’t recall. and a boy with long hair, brown eyes, and a name she hadn’t said in years.

the flashbacks didn’t exactly haunt her - they held her. like a soft and spectral hug from a ghostly friend. she was only sixteen years old then: young, reckless, wrapped in sunlight and sugar, without a single care to her name. those were the days that she lived with the scent of strawberry daydreams swirling around her. the days where she wasn’t worried about the salt in her hair. the days where the nights seemed to last forever when she was with him.

she smiled softly, holding those memories with nothing but fondness and love, for him at least. that boy could never give her the world, he simply didn’t have that. but god, was she his entire world. therefore, he gave her all that he had, all that he was. she would’ve given him the same, had her parents not pulled her away, calling him a fleeting distraction. merely a summer shadow with no place in her future. how could she ever forget the way they took her away from him? it was the night before school would start again, her senior year. she cried until dawn, the weight of goodbye settling in her chest like the heaviest stone. to them, it had only been a summer fling with some troublesome boy, hopeless puppy love. but to her? it had been everything, it felt like the world was ending then.

and yet, now, years later, she could smell that perfume and smile. not necessarily with sadness, but with warmth. it was like sea glass to her. the good rose to the surface, softened by time and shining in the sun. now she stood on the wrong side of twenty five, the years moved by so slyly that she hadn’t even noticed they’d passed. she was finishing up the final threads of her education, packing up the last few knick knacks into a vintage leather suitcase, and finally ready to leave the coastal town that raised her. it was strange, how the scent of a forgotten perfume could crack her wide open, how the memories spilled out of her and down the sides of her body like hot sugar. and though the past tugged at her sleeves, she didn’t turn around. not this time, not for her parents, not for anyone. the world beyond the tides was calling her and she was finally, ready to leave it all behind. at least that’s what she thought.

those thoughts didn’t usually stay for long. they drifted in and out, quiet and fleeting, like so many others. but these past few days were different. while she was packing her life up into cardboard boxes to give away, only wanting to bring that one suitcase as she prepared to leave - he kept coming back. the boy she thought she’d left in the past - his voice, his laugh, the way he looked at her like she was the only thing that mattered in the whole world. she couldn’t shake it. she couldn’t explain why he was lingering now, why for some reason his memory felt heavier than usual. maybe he didn’t want to let her go, and maybe some part of her didn’t either. the taste of strawberries and the stench of cigarettes still clung to those long, hot summers. she couldn’t help but remember how it felt to be sixteen and certain that kind of love would last a lifetime.

the worst part of it all was that, even if she wanted to find him, (and deep down, she always did) she wouldn’t know where to begin. he dropped out of school before junior year was over, even before then, he’d always skip out on classes. he disappeared from the hallways and lunch tables as though he’d never even been there at all. no phone, no social media, no address that anyone could give her.

the only time she ever saw his face again was on those missing posters his parents would plaster around town when he would vanish. he had a habit of running, it seemed. sometimes for days, sometimes for weeks. she remembered seeing the first flyer like a punch to the chest-pinned to the bulletin board outside the gas station, “JUNG WOOYOUNG” printed in big bold letters, a photo of him cheekily grinning smeared in black and white. it had been just days after her parents had banned them from seeing each other then. she stood there in the fading afternoon light, staring at it for far too long, like the ink might blur into something different if she just waited long enough.

after that, the posters came and went. she’d see them on telephone poles, convenience store windows, tacked to cork boards in laundromats. the first one had shaken her, fifth or sixth didn’t. not because it didn’t matter, but because it started to feel like that was just who he was: someone the world was always losing track of. and his poor dad, he was always worried sick every time he’d leave to god knows where he was going. and no one ever told her where he went, or if he was okay when he’d come back. no one asked her if she wanted to know, maybe they thought she didn’t care anymore. maybe they didn’t realize she looked for him in in every crowd, still checked the corners of every parking lot and beach side diner, just in case. because love like that doesn’t really go anywhere, it just quiets down and waits for when you might slow down just enough to hear it.

that’s why in the days leading up to her move, she kept herself as busy as possible. every hour had to be filled with something — anything. she poured herself into job applications, hoping to have work whenever she would arrive at her new abroad apartment. her brand new degree still fresh in her hand, as if forward motion could keep the past at bay. but even while typing out cover letters and tweaking resumes, her mind wandered. she found herself thinking about him, about what he might’ve done with his life if he’d ever just given himself a chance. if someone had just believed in him in the way that she did.

sometimes she’d ride her bike for miles, pushing her body than she usually would with prayers that the memories would drain from her just as the sweat poured down her skin. but the moment she neared the coast, the stretch of the beach where they used to smoke under the fading sun, her heart would start to ache. the salty breeze carried far too much of him. she couldn’t help but wonder if he ever went back there, to that quiet patch of sand just beyond the dunes, lighting a cigarette with his head tilted to the side like he always did.

she visited her parents far more often too. they were thrilled every time, always smiling, always welcoming her in with open arms. she was their only child, and they’d always done what they thought was the best for her. even when “best” meant keeping her from the only boy that she’d ever really loved. they’d eat together, laugh at old stories, slip back into old rhythms just like no time had passed at all. and for a while, it worked. for a while, it felt like she’d finally shaken him loose. that was until her mother, halfway through a laugh and a glass of wine, said it. it was so light that it seemed as though it didn’t mean anything at all.

“do you ever wonder what would’ve happened if we’d let you run off with that boy?”

and just like that, he was back again.

she didn’t answer right away. her fork paused midair, the warmth of the room suddenly pressing against her too closely. her mother had already moved on, laughing about something her father said that she hadn’t heard because her mind was still being delayed a few moments. the question was tossed out so casually, as if it hadn’t just reopened the door that she had been trying so desperately to shut. but now, it was open again, and everything came rushing back, like opening a door during a flood.

because of course she wondered, she’d wondered every day for months after it ended. when she’d lie awake at night, staring at the ceiling, tracing the shape of his name in her mind like some sort of mantra. she wondered when her first heartbreak dulled into something quiet, something that she could carry. and she still wondered now, now a woman, standing on the edge of her future, unsure why the past felt so close that she could almost touch it. would he have stayed if she’d run with him? would she have left school? would they have made it, or fallen apart even faster? the truth was that she’d never know. and maybe not knowing was its own heartbreak in itself.

she blinked, forced a smile and set her fork down with a clink, she was no longer hungry. “sometimes,” she muttered softly. it wasn’t a lie, but it was a half truth. and that was it. her mom nodded like she understood, and maybe she did. but no one said anything else about what could’ve been with the brown eyed boy.

later that night as she drove home, the waves seemed to be calling her name. it wasn’t loud, but rather just a quiet pull, a voice carried by the breeze. to her, the sea had always been like an old best friend. the kind that you used to see everyday, who once knew every corner of your heart, but now nothing more passed between you than a distant nod, a small smile, a silent understanding. the road home hadn’t changed, but it felt so different now. it was empty in a way that it never used to be.

she remembered riding this same stretch years ago, her legs curled up in the passenger seat of his beat-up red ‘66 ford fairlane. the windows were always down, the radio way too loud, the air thick with salt and smoke and youth. the car would bounce and squeak gently over the uneven pavement as they coasted towards the shore, and the wind would tangle itself in her hair until it stuck to her cheeks. she’d laugh without a thought in her mind, just because it felt good to be alive. and he — he would glance over at her like he couldn’t even believe that she was real. one hand on the wheel, the other tapping to the beat of whatever 70s song he had playing on the radio. sometimes he’d sing along, off-key and unashamed, but most of the time he just watched her when he thought she wasn’t looking. it had felt easy then, like the road would never end.

but now? now the sunroof was shut, the windows were sealed. she sat hunched over the steering wheel, the only sound in the car being the beeping from her undone seat belt, and even more so, the silence that blared louder than any other song could. she caught her reflection in the rear view mirror and barely recognized the girl who used to ride shotgun in his car. somewhere among the way, they had both changed. grown up. apart. but tonight, it felt like her past was just one turn away. and for a split second, she pondered what she’d do if she saw that red fairlane parked by the beach again, waiting, just like it used to do.

her eyes drifted from the rear view mirror to the soft glow of the screen on her dashboard. 11:48pm. just over six hours until she had to be out of her apartment, her flight left at dawn. she looked back at the road, then toward the beach as it came into view — dark and wide and endless. the moonlight spilled across the water and the waves rolled in slow and steady, like they were grieving something they couldn’t name. it felt like the sea was crying for her.

realistically, she didn’t have time. not to stop, not to linger, not to chase a memory that may not even exist anymore. but this was her last chance, because once she stepped onto that plane, the version of her that had once belonged to this town, the girl who had laughed barefoot in the sand with him at 16, who had believed that love could be enough, she’d be gone forever. if she left now, without looking back, she knew it would be over. whatever fragile thread that still connected them would snap for good.

so she made the only choice that felt right.

she flipped her turn signal and veered off the road, the tires crunching softly against the gravel path leading down to the beach. she parked where they used to park — behind the brush, where the headlights wouldn’t be seen from the road. her hands rested on the steering wheel for a moment, motionless. then, slowly, she stepped out into the night. the wind met her like an old friend. with each step she took, memories rose from the sand like ghosts murmuring secrets into her ears from every corner.

she didn’t head straight to the old spot where they used to sit and smoke. instead, she stumbled out into the sand, letting the cool grains shift beneath her shoes. the night air hit her first — brisk and sharp, carrying the scent of salt and memory. the wind tugged at her hair and narrowed her eyes, but she didn’t raise a hand to shield her face. she just stood there, letting it wash all over her. it was strange, being back after all this time. it was familar and almost comforting. the waves still rolled in with their same steady rhythm, the shoreline still curved in that gentle crescent. the only difference was that he wasn’t here with her, and that changed everything. she hadn’t set foot on this sand in years. not since the last summer they’d spent together. and now, as she stood there with the cold biting at her skin and the sky stretched wide and endless above her, she felt the weight of everything she was about to leave behind.

it bothered her more than she thought it would, that soon she’d be trading this for city streets packed with neon lights, strangers, skyscrapers, and the constant hum of traffic. she could already feel how much she’d miss the silence, the space, the way that the stars actually meant something here. the ocean had always been her constant. even when she couldn’t come to it, it was always here. just simply knowing that it existed was a comfort. and now, she was walking away from it, like it was just another chapter that she had to leave behind when it was so much more than that. a single tear slipped down her cheek. it wasn’t gut-wrenching or soul-crushing, she didn’t have a breakdown, it was just one tear. she didn’t even wipe it away.

how strange, she thought. that we cry the same salt that fills the sea. maybe that’s why it always felt like home to her. because it spoke the same language that she did.

she stood still for a moment longer, lost in her thoughts, before brushing the tear from her cheek with the back of her hand. her gaze dropped to the sand and she slowly began to walk to what she remember to be the smoke spot, one foot in front of the other. she tried to recall the path they used to take — half remembered steps etched somewhere deep in her muscle memory, like a trail that had been carved by heart and by habit. the wind had shifted slightly and the sand was cool under her shoes. little shadows danced in the moonlight, cast by uneven dips and scattered brush. he used to warn her about that, how the critters like to dig holes in the dry patches, how easy it was to twist an ankle if she wasn’t careful. she could still hear his voice in her mind, that half-laughing tone he’d use when he teased her for being too clumsy. so she kept her eyes down, focused on each step, determined not to fall. and in that focus, she almost missed it.

she came to a slow stop. the ground leveled out beneath her, a small clearing framed by tall grass and the faint outline of driftwood nearby. she looked up and around the area. this was it. this was the spot. somehow, after all these years, it hadn’t changed. the same soft slope of the dunes on either side. the same crooked log they used to sit on, one of the sides half-buried, but still there. it looked untouched, preserved like a memory that she didn’t know the world had been keeping safe for her.

that’s when she felt it — something small and firm beneath the sole of her shoe. an exhale left her throat, long and slow before she lowered her gaze again. she lifted her foot carefully, and there it was.

a cigarette.

it wasn’t crushed, or old, or withered. it was fresh, like it couldn’t have been dropped any more than an hour ago. for a second, she couldn’t move. she just stared at it, her breath caught somewhere between her chest and throat. she crouched down, brushing some of the sand aside. there was no mistaking it. same brand he always smoked, it had that same lazy twist in the filter where he used to hold it too long in between his fingers.

her fingers hovered above the cigarette for a moment before she picked it up, rolling it around between her thumb and forefinger. her heart was pounding relentlessly now, steady and strong in her ears. in some sense, it felt like somehow her heartbeat had seeped out of her body and melted into the earth around her in this moment. it could’ve been anyone else’s, sure. someone else could’ve wandered through here, lit up, and moved on. but somehow, she knew better than that. this brand, this place, this timing. it was far too specific.

she stood up cautiously, scanning the area with new eyes. she wasn’t even completely sure what she was looking for now. footprints? a shadow, maybe? something more left behind? the quiet hum of the ocean filled her ears, but now there was something underneath it, something that her instincts caught before her senses did.

movement.

swiftly, she turned towards it. the movement had been nothing more than a slight shift in the dark near the edge of the dunes where the brush grew tall. her body stilled and her breath bounced in her throat, unsure of whether or not to exhale or inhale. it crossed her mind that maybe she was just imagining it all. but then he stepped forward.

he looked almost exactly the same. older, yes. sharper around the jaw, leaner, a little bit more worn down by time, but it was still her boy nonetheless. same too-long brown hair falling over his forehead, same damn brown eyes. his hands were in his jacket pockets but it wasn’t hard to tell that he was fidgeting around. as if he didn’t know if she’d be happy to see him. at first, she didn’t even move. it seemed like she was terrified to blink because if she did then maybe it would all fade away. but then she blinked, and he still stood there. a single sound escaped her mouth that made the world stop spinning.

“wooyoung?”

he smiled

god, his smile.

“you were always better at finding your way here than me,” he uttered softly, voice carried by the wind. it was tentative, but familiar.

she didn’t say anything right away. instead, she looked down at the fresh cigarette in her hand, then back up to the face that had been stalking her dreams for the past few, long days.

“you left this,” she commented, her voice quiet. not accusing - just stating the truth.

he nodded, stepping just a few steps closer to the only girl he had ever genuinely loved. anyone else watching them might think he wasn’t excited to see her - but he was ecstatic, she was just the only one who knew him well enough to see it.

“i wasn’t sure if you’d come.” he paused for a moment, smiling a bit wider and looking out to the water. “figured if you did … i’d let the beach tell you first.”

a gummy smile grew across her face and a nervous, breathless laugh that could’ve been mistaken as a sigh escaped her lips, “you haven’t changed.”

“you have,” he countered. “not in a bad way.”

for a moment, they just looked at each other. it’s all that the either of them could even begin to muster up. the silence stretching out between the two like a bridge, everything that was unsaid humming in the air around them.

finally, she took a slow step forward. then another. until she was standing just a few feet from him, heart pounding, eyes burning, unsure what would come next.

“you waited for me,” she breathed out.

he looked down at her, flashing her a small smile, and there was a flicker of something in his eyes, “i never really left.”

to this, all she could do was blush and smile. it felt like she had traveled back in time, she was 16 on the beach all over again.

he reached in his pocket, pulling out a box of montego red kings. he popped the box open and swiftly propped the cigarette in between his teeth. he hesitated, holding the blue lighter in his other hand. he could’ve easily lit it up himself, but he knew there was something that she would enjoy so much more. he softly placed the lighter in her hand, making sure to trace his fingers across hers as he did, she smiled knowingly. he finally spoke up again.

“light my cigarette?”

a/n ⋆˚࿔ okay so yeah this is my first post and i’m super proud of this haha! randomly came across this song after not hearing it for years and looking at pics wooyoung on pinterest brought about this fic lol. i really hope you enjoyed, and if you did please reblog!! happy sailing friends ( ˶ˆᗜˆ˵ ) -bray

[taeswifeisikram]

Chapter 3 - Hidden Feelings

It's two days later, and I don't know why Taehyung is still lingering in my mind. His accent, his deep voice, his dark eyes and those full lips. Oh, those lips are burned in my mind. Everything about him is still so fresh in my mind.

I can even smell his cologne. He even appeared in one of my dreams. I still remember how his rough hands skimmed over my body, how his fingertips traced my skin.

But this is wrong. So wrong. I have to forget him, learn that he's out of my league and that he has thousands of women that are willing to die for his touch. Women that can give him what he wants, like my sister. Not some nineteen-year-old girl.

That's why I called my boy best friend Jungkook, to hang out today. He was my friend since childhood and also was my first boyfriend. We broke up in highschool but we stayed in touch. We were sort of friends with benefits. I needed to distract myself from Taehyung and Jungkook would be that distraction.

I get a text message from Jungkook.

JK😏🩷: I’m outside hurry up loser

Y/N: Calm ur tits im cumming ;)

I take a double glance in the mirror and make sure I look good. I had my hair down naturally, and wore jeans and a nice sweater. Damn im bad as hell.

I rush down the stairs say goodbye my parents and walk out the door. I quickly hop into Jungkook’s black bmw. As I take. a seat in the passenger side I engulf in his expensive cologne and admire his look today. His black hair styled, wearing a black short sleeve shirt, leaving his tattoos on display. Black jeans, with a silver chain.

(Boy if you don’t keep this car in park and take those drawls off rn😏🤤)

“Let’s get this show in the road” he says as he takes the car out of park. We make our way to a nice coffee shop. I step up to make my way into the line with jungkook. As im scanning over the menu someone comes into my way of view. “Y/N is that you?” a voice questions.

It’s Melissa, accompanied by Taehyung. “Oh Melissa and Mr. Kim what a surprise.”

“Please Y/N you can drop the formalities it’s Taehyung.” Taehyung’s voice asks of me. "It's funny how we keep running into each other, no?" he chuckles, his accent very evident.

chuckle. "Yes, it is. We were just getting some coffee, and I take it you're doing the same?" I ask him, gesturing to the cup in his hands. He was about to respond when we get interrupted by a feminine voice.

“Who’s this with you Y/N?” Melissa asks smug look on her face as she’s clearly checking out Jungkook.

“Oh I’m Jungkook it’s nice to meet you both.” Jungkook flashes his million dollar smile to them.

Placing an arm around Melissa’s waist, Taehyung nods. In an instant, jealously ignites within me. I know it's bad of me to think it, but I want to be the one he has his arms around, I want to be the one who can make him laugh, I want to be the one who goes home with him to do God knows what.

I swallow, and take a step back, bumping into Jungkook. He securely wraps his arms around my shoulder, and it calms me down.

Wanting to get away from the uncomfortable tension, I decide to speak up.

"Well, it was nice to see you, but we should go, right Jungkook?" I ask, and glance up at him over my shoulder.

He smiles down at me, knowing that I want to get away and nods.

He leans down and pecks my cheek, my heart warming at the gesture.

"Yes, beautiful. You were explaining the difference frappes and lattes," he chuckles, and I blush, swatting his chest.

"Right, we'll get back later to that," I say and turn back to Taehyung and Melissa, "I'll probably see you again some time, bye," I say, and Jungkook and I start walking in the opposite direction. Continuing our conversation. “Your sisters man is totally hot Y/N,” Jungkook says. “I know

—————————

The day of the Party

Y/N stared at her reflection, barely recognizing the woman staring back. The long dress was beautiful, a soft blush color that complemented her skin with a silt on the side showing her smooth legs. Her sister's engagement party was in full swing downstairs, the air thick with music, laughter, and the clinking of champagne glasses. But up here, in the quiet space of her room, Y/N felt suffocated.

It wasn't just the party. It was the charade she had to play, the constant pretense of happiness for her sister, the forced smiles directed at Taehyung. Taehyung, her sister's fiancé, the man who was everything her family had ever wanted for her. Kind, successful, and undeniably handsome.

And the man Y/N was desperately trying not to get involved with.

The glittering lights of the engagement party seemed to follow Y/N as she navigated the crowded room. It was Taehyung and Melissa's night, a celebration of their upcoming marriage. The problem? The air crackled with an undeniable electricity whenever she and Taehyung were in the same vicinity. And to make matters even more complicated, she was casually involved with Jungkook, who was currently charming a group of people by the bar.

She spotted Taehyung across the room, his dark eyes meeting hers. A jolt went through her – a dangerous mix of longing and guilt. He was engaged to her sister, Melissa, for crying out loud! But the way he looked at her… it was as if he saw something deeper, something that Melissa didn't.

Later, as Y/N was refilling her champagne, Taehyung appeared beside her, close enough that she could feel the warmth of his body. "You look stunning tonight, Y/N," he murmured, his voice a low hum that only she could hear over the music.

"Thank you," she replied, trying to keep her voice steady. "You and Melissa make a beautiful couple."

A flicker of something unreadable crossed his face. "Do we?" he asked, his gaze intense. "Or is that what everyone expects us to be?" He took a step closer, his hand brushing against hers. "Tell me, Y/N, what do you see?"

Y/N's breath caught in her throat. She knew she shouldn't play this game, knew that getting involved with Taehyung would be a disaster. But the temptation was almost unbearable. "I think," she said, her voice barely a whisper, "that you're playing with fire."

"Maybe I like the burn," he replied, his eyes locked on hers. The air thickened between them, charged with unspoken desires and forbidden possibilities.

The intensity of Taehyung's gaze made Y/N's heart pound in her chest. "You shouldn't," she managed to say, even though a part of her desperately wanted him to. "Melissa is my sister."

"And if she wasn't?" he asked, his voice a husky whisper. He took another step closer, closing the space between them until she could feel his breath on her skin. "What would you say then?"

Before Y/N could answer, a voice cut through the air. "Taehyung, darling, there you are!" Melissa approached l them, her arm looming possessively around Taehyung's. "I've been looking everywhere for you. Oh, Y/N, are you keeping my fiancé company?"

Y/N forced a smile. "Just catching up," she said, trying to ignore the disappointment that washed over her as Taehyung stepped away.

"Well, don't keep him too long," Melissa said, her eyes narrowing slightly. "We have a lot of guests to greet." She tugged Taehyung away, leaving Y/N standing alone, the weight of their unspoken conversation hanging heavy in the air.

Later in the evening, Y/N found herself on the balcony, seeking a moment of solitude. The city lights twinkled below, similar to the emotions raging inside her. A figure appeared in the doorway, and her heart skipped a beat as she recognized Taehyung.

"I had to find you," he said, his voice low. He stepped onto the balcony, closing the door behind him. "I can't stop thinking about what you said earlier."

"Taehyung, this is wrong," Y/N said, her voice trembling. "You're engaged. You're going to marry my sister."

"I know," he said, his eyes filled with conflict. "But I can't help the way I feel about you." He reached out, gently taking her hand in his. "Y/N, I think I'm taking a strong liking to you."

Her breath caught in her throat. She wanted to explore him but it was also a betrayal of the worst kind. "We can't," she whispered, "We just can't."

"We can," he said, his voice filled with emotion. "And I don't know what to do about it." He paused, his gaze intense. "Tell me to leave, Y/N," he murmured, his thumb gently caressing her knuckles. "Tell me you don't feel the same way."

Y/N stared at him. She wanted to deny it, to push him away and protect herself from the heartbreak. But she couldn't lie. "I don't know what I feel," she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper.

The tension in the air was thick enough to cut with a knife. Before either of them could say another word, Y/N's phone buzzed in her purse. She pulled it out, thankful for the interruption. It was a text from Jungkook.

JK😏🩷: Missing you. Meet me downstairs?

She looked back at Taehyung, his expression unreadable. "I... I have to go," she stammered, pulling her hand away. "I'll see you around." She turned and fled, leaving Taehyung alone on the balcony, the weight of their unspoken feelings hanging heavy in the night air.

Downstairs, Jungkook was waiting for her, leaning casually against a pillar. He grinned when he saw her. "Hey," he said, pulling her into a hug. "Ready to ditch this party?"

Y/N wrapped her arms around him, burying her face in his shoulder. "More than you know," she murmured. As they walked away, she couldn't shake the feeling that she was running from something, or someone, she couldn't escape.

————————

What will happen next??

Will Y/N finally notice her interest in Taehyung?

Will she pursue something with Jungkook?

LEAVE UR COMMENTS AND REVIEWS BELOW…🫰

[clovecloveangel]

Okay. Tim Drake deepdiving (send help)

SPECIAL MENTION TO JASON WITH OTHER SIDE OF PARADISE THAT GIRL (BOY) IS GONE BUT IIIIIII// THAT GIRL IS GONE BUT I STILL TRY//I MISS HIM, DONT YOU BLAME ME! THAT BOY WENT STONE COLD CRAZY! CAUGHT UP AND CANT RUN LASTING CHASING THAT HAPPY PIPEDREAM1!!!!!

New Money hehehehheehehhehehehehehe

WHO CAN IT BE NOW PAPAPAPPAPAPAPAAAAA PSHSGN THAT FITS HIM HE'D TOTALLY LISTEN TO THATHBRGTIVKFM

BANG BANG BANG HERE WE GO (already screamed im just gonna copy paste that

[BANG! FOR TIM DRAKE HHHRHEHHEEHH SO PUT YOUR BEST FACE ON EVERYBODY/PRETEND YOU LIKE THIS SONG EVERYBODY // AND IM UP TO SOMETHING (UP TO SOMETHING)]

EVERYONE TALK ABOUT - POP MUZICK!!!!!!1UBRHFD VJCKOVSI THIS IS LITERALLY HIS LOSER TASTE /VAFF/VSILLY

CAUSE WHEN THE SUN COMES DOWN AND THE MOON COMES UP//I TURN INTO A TEENAGE GOO GOO MUCK IHEUGRBJVDMIM MY BOYYY

I have not heard honeybee but im listennig to it rn and it fits the vibes!!!!!

Bruno is orange..... bruno is orange...

BRUNOOOO WHAT HAPPENED TO YOUR GOOD SENSE? (RED ROBIN) THAT MANS GOOD I BET HE WORKS FOR THE GOVERNMENT//DID YOU HEAR ABOUT THAT MOTHER BROKE HER DAUGHTERS LEGS IN TWO AND SAID ITS TOO DANGEROUS TO WALK SO I HAD TO SAVE YOU//I THINK ITS REAL UNFAIR THAT YOU SHOULD PUT HIM THERE ALL WE DID WAS KISS ON MY GRAVE I SWEAR WHERE DID YOU FIND HIS SHOES? THE LOCK OF MY HAIR? ALL WE DID WAS KISS ON MY GRAVE I SWEAR (DIE DIE DIE) -> EVERYONE IN HIS LIFE WAS PUT INTO DANGER/DIED SO HE'S BEGGING THE WORLD TO STOP OH MY GOD

ANTHEMS FOR A SEVENTEEN YEAR OLD GIRL

USED TO BE ONE OF THE ROTTEN ONES AND I LIKED YOU FOR THAT (THIS COULD BE LIKE HIS PARENTS NOT BEING THE BEST IN THE WORLD/THE PEOPLE IN HIS LIFE USING HIM BUT HE STILL LOVES BECAUSE HE'S LOYAL HWUGRNI)

NOW YOURE ALL GONE GOT YOUR MAKEUP ON AND YOURE NOT COMING BACK (CANT YOU COME BACK?) -> SO MANY PEOPLE DIED/LEFT/BETRAYED HIM HE JUST WANTS TO BE HAPPYYYYYYY

BLEACHING YOUR TEETH SMILING FLASH TALKING TRASH UNDER MY WINDOW -> HE PLAYS THE ROLE TO BE THE PERFECT ROBIN TO MAKE EVERYONE ELSE HAPPY AUGHHHHH

PARK THAT CAR, DROP THAT PHONE, SLEEP ON THE FLOOR, DREAM ABOUT ME? -> THE MOMENT HE LEAVES HIS PHONE (VIGILANTE WORK) HE FEELS CRUSHINGLY ALONE BECAUSE ALL HE CAN THINK ABOUT ARE THE PEOPLE HE'S LOST

OKAY I NEED TO. STOP.

DING DONG THE WITCH IS DEAD I JUST WATCHED WICKED IM CACKLINGNNGNGGNG

GET HIM BACK HE'S SO OLIVIA CODED GODDD

COFFEEEEEE

DO I NEED IT? MOCHA - AM I UNDER CONTROL???? WAKE UP AND IT SWALLOWED ME WHOLE WOULD IS SEE IT? I CAN MAKE YOU FEEL ALIVEEEEEEE - I KNOW, BUT DO I NEED YOU TO SURVIVE? (I FEEL LIKE THIS IS TALKING ABOUT HIS WHOLE VIGILANTE WORK AND HOW HE USES IT TO STAY SANE/HIDE AWAY AND HE FEELS USELESS WIHTOUT BEINGNROBIN also the fanon coffee thing is cute oH8IROFGIJNFIOIJIM)

THE CULT OF DIONYISIS MATCHING WITH BERNARD PAHAHHAHAHH I LOVE IT AS A TIMBER/TIMBERKON SONG (IM FEELING DEVIOUS/YOURE LOOKING GLAMOROUS/LETS GET MISCHEVIOUS/AND POLYAMOROUS!!!!!!!!1) EVEN STEPH WORKS SDFHUGBYVHJDKCOMDI

YOU ARE AN IDIOT AHHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHHAHAHHA OH TIM CAN I GIVE YOU THERAPYY??? JOKER JUNIOR REF?!?!

ITS GOING DOWN IM YELLING TIMBERRRRRRRRRRRR DIHFJCDKMJ OFC OFC ITS THEIR SONG

PAPARAZZI -> HIM AS A STALKER + HIM AS A PUBLIC FIGURE

rockin robin hheehhehe i see you

WASHINGTON ON YOUR SIDE HAMILTIOGNFVENUJCKM

BRUTUS????Q?

IVE BEEN WATCHING HIM FOR MY ENTIRE LIFE//THATS NOT TRUE I DONT WISH TO FORSAKE YOU SO SIMILAR LIKE BROTHERS FROM A DIFFERENT MOTHER OF THE SAME WOMB (i cant remember the exact lyrics forgive me) FRATE MEUS//ILL NEVER FORGET THE WAY YOU SHOWED ME HOW TO MAKE ART (BEING ROBIN) I LOVE YOU AND IF YOU WANT ILL CALL YOU KING (FATHER) //

SOMETHING WICKED THIS WAY COMES AND IM UNSURE SHOULD I EMBRACE IT SHOUDL I RUN? WHAT MOTIVATES ME HATRED? IS IT LOVE? (HIS WHOLE RED ROBIN ARC - IS HE RUNNING ON HIS LOVE FOR BRUCE OR HIS ANGER AT THE WORLD FORSAKIGN HIM????) MAYBE MY NAME COULD ALSO BE KNOWN (HE JUST LOVES BEING ROBIN)

MY WHOLE LIFE YOU WERE A TEACHER AND FRIEND TO ME, PLEASE KNOW MY ACTIONS ARE NOT MOTIVATED ONLY BY ENVY!!! -> HIM TELLING DICK ABOUT DAMIANN OHMY GODDD

MY NAME IS BRUTUS BUT THE PEOPLE WILL CALL ME REX!! (HIM AT THE END OF RED ROBIN BEING LIKE I AM MY OWN HERO I AM RED ROBIN AHDUNCJIJTI)

I NEED TO SHUT. UP.

Okay fuck i cant do the whole thing i dont have time but WE BOTH REACHED FOR THE GUN OH GOD OG GOD

ARMY DREAMERS OH NOOOO

WHAT A WASTE OF, ARMY DREAMERS! (BFPO, MAMMYS HERO)

BUT HE NEVER EVEN MADE IT TO HIS TWENTIES - NO ONE ALLOWS HIM TO AGE PAST 17

SARAHHHHH

'YOULL NEVER MAKE THE PLACE WHY DO YOU EVEN RUN THE RACE???? I CANT BE, WHAT YOU NEEEDDDDD I AM STUCKKK IN A DRE-EAM I AM STUCK, IN A DREAMMMMMMM//DONT YOU KNOW? SHES BEEN HERE ALL ALONG//HE LOVES ME LIKE A DOG AND WHEN WE MESS AROUND ILL LET HIM KNOW THE TRUTH I FOUND IN MY OWN HOPELESS HATE--

AND EVERY TIME I WAKE I SECOND GUESS THE GAME I PLAYED, DID I, MAKE A, MISTAKE??? -HIS LYRIC HIS LRYICS SODHGUBVJSCMLX

WHAT ELSE CAN I DOOOOOOO//(WHAT IF IT DIDNT NEED TO BE PERFECT? IT JUST NEEDED TO BE, AND THEYD LET ME BE?!?!?!?!!)

fuck ufck cuck okay okay i know some of the others but these are my standouts thank you this was great fonvkfmlp

formatted this because its such a mess that even colour coding still makes it insane lmafaoogunfidfdmkovfm

Batfam Spotify Playlists

(Because Tumblr won’t let me post all of my DC playlists in one post)

Alfred Pennyworth: Spotify Link

Bruce Wayne:

Barbara Gordon:

Dick Grayson:

Cass Cain:

Jason Todd:

Stephanie Brown:

Bernard Dowd:

Tim Drake:

Duke Thomas:

Damian Wayne:

Talia Al-Ghul: Spotify Playlist Link

Selina Kyle: Spotify Playlist Link

Normal link stopped working on the last two 😪

The boring links should still work but still

I think there’s a maximum limit of how many you can add

[zevrans-archive]

💀

[the-acid-pear]

Why did my cooking dream get hijacked by my brain making a William Afton oc and au what was that about.

[areus-in-a-little-cave]

This was the first time that I've ever had a long form dream about the dsmp and it was literally about bedrockverse