#growing out his choppy bangs be still my beating heart

[aziraphalesbookkeeper]

we don't talk about Helmeppo's various hair phases enough

[miss-kittys-magical-library]

Don't Leave Me This Way

Warnings- angst, marital spats, language, a hint of spice

A/N- After a decade together, Honey and Leon have come undone. But on the anniversary of the day their lives changed, Leon decides to mend that. For @forenschik

Part One:

Honey was, in a word, incensed. That Leon would even think about the two of them going out on a weekday bothered her. Then again, at this point in their busy lives going out on ANY day bothered her. But that, Leon told her, was the problem. It was eat, sleep, work, kids, eat, sleep, work, OCCASIONALLY have sex. Throw in Sunny’s growing powers and the odd alternate universe traveller for good measure. That was the rhythm of married life she responded rather dismissively.

Leon took the club scheduling book out of Honey’s hand and held it high above his head where he knew Honey couldn’t fathom reaching it. “How about fuck off with this rhythm of life.”

“LEON!” Honey both whined and raised her voice at her husband as she scrambled to her feet and attempted to climb him. When that didn’t work, and he simply laughed at her and held the book higher, she stood on the desk chair. “How about you go fuck yourself?”

Leon threw the date book. Honey jumped to go after it, but he blocked her move. He held her tight in his arms so she was made to stand still. “Fuck’s sake, I was asking for a date. Now I’m telling you. You’re gonna go upstairs and get ready and put on that sexy purple dress. I’ve packed up The Littles. We’re taking them to your parents, and then we are going to that Italian restaurant you love on Mulberry Street. Then we’re coming home, and you’re getting a right good seeing to.” Before she could protest Leon clamped his hand over her mouth, “Now.”

Honey shockingly obeyed her husband. Her face crimson with anger as she held her chin in the air, arms crossed in front of her chest before throwing up the double finger. In the shower she realized something. It had been so long, and their lives were so busy, that Honey couldn’t discern being mad from being turned on. A lump formed in her throat because she was ashamed. Or disappointed? When was she ever NOT enamored by Leon? Maybe this date was exactly what they needed.

---

“I don't know, I think we should maybe homeschool Sunny. He's not going to have a handle on anything until he's come to the end of what he can do. Maybe we can communally teach him? Selina is fine, she always will be. She could use other normal kids. I think she and Sun are too dependent on each other. They're only six and seven. Usually that level of codependency comes later in life. Like you and Jonathan. I don't know, what do you think?”

Leon watched as his wife took her first breath since their dinners arrived. She swallowed most of her wine before chasing a tortellini around her plate. Her head in one hand like an insolent child instead of a woman in her thirties. Honey looked at Leon expectedly. He took a breath of his own, but she interjected just as he was about to speak.

“They might resent us if we separate though. Sunny needs to feel as normal as possible. They're in Montessori school, so all those kids are bound to be a little strange too. I guess if they were homeschooled you would have to cut back on your classes, and we would have to scale back on bookings.”

Leon clenched his jaw between sips of his bourbon. He stabbed at his dinner, chewed and swallowed while simmering. He sat back with the expectancy that Honey would continue, uninterrupted the same way she had for the last decade. He could feel the simmer start to boil just below the surface while, sure enough, she kept on.

“Punk is just taking off. I know CBGB is where it's at, but Hilly’s been a mensch sending us Patti, Debbie and The Ramones. I know we're still stuck in folk, but I REALLY think it can turn around into rock. There's this outrageous glam or metal or whatever band from LA. Oh! Did you get to hear that demo from the Irish band? Klaus said they're like, one of the biggest bands in the world. I don't know if that would be in our timeline too, but he's onto something. Get in while we can. But who wears sunglass-”

“αρκετά!!” Leon yelled. ENOUGH!

He banged a fist on the table which drew attention from nearby diners. His nostrils flared with anger and embarrassment. While the outburst mortified Leon, he also wouldn't take it back. It was his only means of getting Honey’s attention. And it did.

She sat back with her arms crossed. One eyebrow arched in challenge. Honey was no shrinking violet. She did tend to her grudges like a little garden. If she had to add Leon to it for a little while, so mote it be.

Leon’s face softened, his shoulders sank while he bit into his lip. Then he sat up straight, an air of defiance about him. Before she knew what was happening, Leon slid Honey around the booth with ease so that they sat side by side. He made a bold move when his wife turned away from him.

Leon snuck a hand inside of Honey’s bare thighs. He knew her. Knew she wouldn't be wearing any panties. It wasn't even meant as a tease. She just couldn't with this particular dress. He took advantage of that.

Letting two of his fingers delve inside of his wife, Leon slid them as painfully slow as possible. Her body reacted. It became instantaneously wet allowing him to slip in with ease. He continued in Italian.

“Tesoro mio, non stai zitto da dieci anni. Hai chiesto la mia opinione e io ne ho una.” His fingers pumped faster. One found her clit for a brief moment before abandoning it “Ora sii una brava moglie e lasciami dire la mia.”

My sweet, you haven't shut the fuck up in ten years. You asked for my opinion, and I have one. Now be a good wife and let me have my say.

Honey swallowed oxygen and choked on it. Her heart pounded in places she forgot carried a beat for the man beside her. Her hips shifted forward while she spread her legs to accommodate Leon.

“I'm.. sorry..” her breath came out choppy. “What.. what do you think?”

Leon removed his fingers and draped his arm along Honey’s shoulders. It curled around her neck but with a gentleness. All of the anger dissipated seeing his wife submit to him so easily. That sexual reminder he had as much agency in this marriage as she did.

“I think,” Leon lifted Honey’s chin so her face drew closer. Instead of her lips he kissed her forehead and caught her gaze, “It's time to send the Littles away without us.”

Honey inhaled ready to release a protest. Leon clamped a hand over her mouth. “For longer than a few days at the lake. Or a weekend down at the shore with your sister's kids. Or overnight at your parents place. It's time Yía Yía takes them to Greece.”

Leon felt his wife’s body start to tense. He knew she was processing what he had to say but was prepared to fight him every step of the way. He kept on, “We can take the kids to London, stay a day or two. Then the two of us are going away together for the first time. Not a weekend here. Or a day there. PROPER vacationing just us.”

“We-”

He cut Honey off with a kiss this time. “We can afford to close the club for a while. I love you, and I bloody love our kids. The three of you are my whole fucking world. Don’t you think we’ve gotten a bit lost? It hasn’t been just us since the 60s. You don’t even know what day it is, do you?”

Honey blanked. Her eyebrows knit together as her brain searched back through time to what she may have missed. Why a random day at the end of August was so important. Leon stared at his wife, willing her to remember. He knew she maybe just took it for granted that this instance had always been there. Neither could remember a time when it wasn’t.

Honey’s body deflated. “Oh, Leon.” Hot tears sprang to her eyes which she angrily wiped away. “When HAVEN’T I loved you? I don’t think I was ever able to boil it down to our last time away together. Has it really been ten years? I always thought the moment I saw you was the moment I fell in love. I held you at bay didn’t I?”

Leon used his thumbs to brush the tears away from her cheeks. One traced along her bottom lip before he pushed her hair off her shoulder to kiss it.

"Gracie, look at me." He lifted her chin again so their eyes met. She sniffled. "I think you know that little bits of me and you could scatter across the cosmos, and we would always find one another. It's why we need to get away, the two of us. C'mon, wanna go for a walk?

He stood, laid more money down than necessary, and reached for Honey's hand. She took it but rebuffed the rest, "Leon, it's midnight. It's the hottest summer on record. And someone is murdering women with dark hair and their lovers."

"So?!" She frowned. "Oh bugger off!" he teased. "Klaus said his name's David Berkowitz, and he never goes outside of Queens. I just want to hold my missus's hand and walk beside her a little while. That's all."

How could Honey resist?

Part 2 coming next week 💋

@elliethesuperfruitlover @magic-multicolored-miracle @maerenee930 @nightmonsters @neuroticpuppy @firstpersonnarrator @frogs--are--bitches @rob-private @bisexualnathanyoung @super-unpredictable98 @messengeronthemoon @a-ghoulish-tale @love-is-dirty-baby @vonkimmeren @duck-noises @feed-davis-and-steve @ghouls-buddy

[n-miri]

Spirit-touched!Tommy AU where Tommy sees what should not be seen. And, by being himself, circumvents the natural world order. 

-

Exile is fine. Living alone on an isolated piece of land, occasionally seeing the amnesiac ghost of his dead brother figure, having his items and hardwork blown up every week by his supposed ‘friend’.... Life in Logstedshire has been surprisingly peachy, all things considered. If Tommy closes both eyes, he may even say this is a vacation. Kind of. It could be an unpaid holiday, where he lost his job and cut off all ties with his family. It could be a- a retirement arc! An obituary about an ex-soldier’s cottagecore lifestyle. Except there isn’t a cottage. Plus, with a lot more TNT and ghosts over his shoulders. 

Literally. 

The summer sun beats down his back, filtering through floating particles of dust and ash. Tommy refrains from sighing. Another day, another stack of items destroyed. It’s annoying. He wakes up, goes through the repeated motions of create and destroy, ignores the ringing in his ears, and. Rinse and repeat. That’s all there ever is to it, right? He needs these tools to survive, and Dream wants the entertainment. He fights with his lives on the line, and Dream spits in his face. 

That man hides it well, but he can’t quite mask the glee that rattles through his collar bones, stifled pelts of laughter shaking his core. Dream is a master of deception and Tommy is far too perceptive—they see right through each other. If Dream is stained glass, unseeing eyes becoming windows to a desolate soul, then Tommy is tulle fabric, pulling back the veil between life and incorporeal. 

Dream is his friend, but Tommy doesn’t trust anyone with phantom arms growing out of their face. When they first met, there was a plain-drawn face upon a porcelain mask. A pair of inky hands peeked out from where the cheeks were supposed to be, patting his back when the two passed or brushing ghostly fingers through soft tufts of hair. It was endearing at first. The boy wondered why fucking ghost hands were glued to his friend’s face, but eventually grew used to the sight. They exchanged harmless jabs; Tommy called out Clay and Dream returned with Tomathy and things were good before Wilbur joined. 

Then Wilbur joined. During the first war for L’manburg’s independence was when the limbs started growing in length and joints. Hands covered the mask whole, spiralling darkness that ensnared nearby shoulders within a ferocious grip. However, most recently, the appendages have taken to growing eyes. Fucking eyes. Like some eldritch horror monster with bloodshot eyes crinkled mid-laugh. It was ugly. It was stupid. Worst of all, it scared the other ghosts away. Not fucking- whatever Ghostbur is, but the actual spectators. Stalkers. Weirdos (affectionate). 

Say what you want, but Tommy enjoys the company. Not that he would willingly admit it. 

“Good morning,” Tommy says into the empty field. There is no response. He sighs, then proceeds to hack up the inhaled soot. His throat is hoarse and his voice cracks at uneven intervals; he is thirsty but there’s no drinkable water left. Dream found his filter -wasn’t that a fun conversation to have-and he isn’t desperate enough to drink sea water. So, dehydration it is. 

Peering up into the cloudless sky, the male squints through the sunlight and bright blue vastness. Looks like there’s no chance of rain. 

Shame. 

A chill spreads across the skin of his elbow, despite it being wrapped in gauze. Tommy looks down and grins. “Hey, River. Nice day, innit?” The child gives him a watery smile, little twisted fingers curling into his tattered shirt. When a gust of wind breezes through Logstedshire, only the teenager’s blonde hair rustles along. “Sorry I can’t play today. I need to find water.” With a tilted head, they point towards the sea behind him. Tommy smiles wryly. “Preferably something less salty.” 

River tilts their head, contemplating. Choppy bangs hide their pupil-less, hollow gaze from roaming around the land. Then with a determined nod, they gesture for the male to follow. “Oh,” he says. “Hold on! Let me grab my things first.” 

Turning towards the bed of water, Tommy takes a deep breath and sinks into the shallow area. There’s some seaweed growing inconspicuously nearby, which acts as a marker for where he buried his chest. Funnily enough, Dream is a pretty easy person to hide valuables from. Or maybe that’s just Tommy being the biggest man ever, outsmarting the traceur in a battle of schemes. 

His fingers slip a few times while prying open the chest, but the inventory menu pops up and Tommy is quick to take the furnace, crafting table, half a stack of glass, an iron bucket and an iron pickaxe and sword. The downgraded version of the barest essentials. It’s safer to keep them here obviously, but it would be nice if Dream stopped destroying his items during every goddamn visit. Destroying them with TNT, of all things. Why not something quieter, like lava? Lava is nice. Lava doesn’t knock you off your feet if you are caught in the blast range. Lava doesn’t shatter your eardrums or destroy the ground underneath you. At least lava destroys objects completely, without any trace left behind. 

Yeah, okay. Maybe he still feels bitter about the diamonds Dream found and shattered, showers of crystalised pieces glinting against the firelight. The shining particles can still be found scattered across soil, if he looks hard enough; instead Tommy digs his hands into the dirt and covers up his blunders. It doesn’t help, not really, but seeing a physical reminder pains him. 

When Tommy breaks the water’s surface gasping for air, River stares at him worriedly. “I’m o-okay,” he coughs. “Let’s… let’s go.”

-

The first time he notices River, it’s a few weeks after being prosecuted and exiled; only a handful of days after WIlbur’s shadow gives him a compass. The compass, with a simple two words engraved into the cover. 

Placing the gift atop his open palm, Tommy walks in the direction a glowing arrow points at, only stopping at the sea line. Water laps frostily at his ankles, bare feet digging into coarse sand. Still, he fixes his stare onto the lonesome horizon. He won’t admit it now, or ever, but he desperately wishes that a wooden boat will creak upon this shore, paddles splashing hardly against the lulling waves; even the warping of the Nether portal would be welcome. Anything at all.

 He yearns for company, for companionship—Your Tubbo, the sea soothes. Your Tubbo, his heart beats for. Yours. 

Standing resolute, the boy imagines a crater and a country and a White House that stands still. The bench would feel firm under his fingertips, Cat humming its gentle tune by his side; his best friend would look around, fixated on the bees mulling about; and a red flower sprouts from the cracks of the Prime Path, dancing daintily with the wind. The boy would close his eyes, taking in the dewy air, and laugh at happiness itself. All would be good. 

Tommy stands until his arms shake and his legs quiver with loss. His eyes water and he wonders what the point of seeing is, if not to witness the conditions of his loved ones. 

In his hands, the compass point is nimrod straight. 

The next day, he finds himself drowning. A ghost’s freezing hands slap his cheeks, brittle arms wrapped around his torso, and frantically pushes him up, up, up. 

They don’t talk, or tell him their name, so Tommy calls them ‘River’. It’s only a little spiteful. 

[thestorytellersapprentice]

Pulled out of Orbit

Pairing: Jo Yeong/Myeong Seung-ah

Fandom: The King: Eternal Monarch

Tags: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Angst, Fluff

Summary: Being in a possible courtship with Jo Yeong sucked. One minute, he could be so sweet (albeit also such a grandma), but next he could act like such a prick, she wanted to throw something at his head.

Notes: Unbeta-ed. Post drama. A direct continuation to "Over Booze and Buzz", and references "Duality of a Man", but the two fics are not absolutely required to read and enjoy this. This can also work as a stand-alone, though their relationship in this fic will feel more natural if you’ve read the mentioned fics as companions :)

Link: ArchiveofOurOwn / Fic Master list on Tumblr

~ How would you feel, if you had this crush on someone who you thought was really, really cool, the best on his field, the shield of the nation, the personification of an action hero, just, like, insanely cool and all, okay, and said crush had just swooped in and whisked you away from - well, at the expense of sounding a little bit dramatic - death? Would you even have any brain capacity to put together even a coherent thought?

No?

Yeah, same here, Myeong Seung-ah concluded.

“It's just a graze,” the doctor, a kind-looking man in his early seventies who had tended to her, had said after inspecting her wound.

Seung-ah blinked several times, trying to scare the blurriness away. 

She was vaguely aware that she was still vertical, sitting somewhere inside the medical van. Her entire body was still kind of sore from the impact, and some part of the back of her head still throbbed, ever slightly. She tried to hold up the ice pack against her head properly, but her arm felt like jelly, nearly with no energy left.

“You might have a mild concussion," the doctor continued as he finished up bandaging her upper arm. "Make sure you have someone staying with you tonight."

Seung-ah nodded at that, but her mind was not really there. Instead, she flashed back to the series of events which just happened.

One minute she was standing to the side, busy composing and drafting posts of the King’s opening speech for the official Royal SNS account, and the next thing she knew, gunshots rang out loud inside the stadium and chaos ensued. She barely had time to register what the hell had just happened when she caught him on her line of sight: the shooter, a masked man with the black baseball cap. He was emptying his gun blindly among the fleeing crowds before turning his aim at her general direction.

If someone had asked her what thought crossed her mind at that fateful time, then Myeong Seung-ah could only answer with: nothing.

It all happened too fast.

She just knew that she was completely frozen, rooted on her spot, and then another gunshot rang out - too loud, why is it so loud - and then she just remembered the blur of a shadow came in between the bullet and her, tackling her to the ground, hard.

It took Seung-ah a while - felt too much like a lifetime - to realize that it was Jo Yeong.

The Captain had her pinned down, his body covering her view completely from the madman as he wasted no time barking orders to secure His Majesty away and take the assailant down. She remembered taking a peek over his shoulders in muted awareness, seeing his fellow royal guards swarming in on the shooter. A couple of guys from the special forces, identifiable from their all-black uniform, also joined in, all of their weapons drawn up.

So, yeah, basically, she was almost shot.

If the Captain hadn't tackled her to the ground, then she was sure that her body would be decorated by bullet holes by now. She knew how extremely lucky she was that the bullet just grazed her. If it was a couple of centimeters more to the side, then-

Seung-ah stopped that trail of thought.

Her head spun.

She could not stop herself to recall that it was not her first time being rescued by the Captain. Curiously, it just happened that both times involved a madman with a gun.

If she was a believer that there was no such thing as mere coincidences, only fate, then Seung-ah would definitely interpret it as a clear warning sign from the Universe: stay very far away from this man, he’s dangerous.

She turned in her seat, seeking him out.

Her head throbbed even more from the movement, but she was more overwhelmed by how it felt like her heart just made a weird flip inside her chest as she realized that the man in question, Captain Jo Yeong, was still there, on the exact same spot she last saw him after he had rushed her to the medic.

He was still standing on the edge of the opened van, his gaze directed slightly to the side, sporting a hard expression on his face. He looked like he could and had every intention to murder someone.

Yeah, he definitely is dangerous.

“She’s okay, Jo daejangnim,” the elderly doctor got up to approach the Captain. He ducked his head to avoid the ceiling. “Mild concussion, perhaps, but as long as she’s careful, there’s nothing to worry about.”

“Thank you, Doctor Byun,“ Seung-ah heard him say quietly.

The doctor patted the younger man on the shoulder before he exited the vehicle, presumably to talk to his team.

Directly after, the Captain climbed into the van and took the seat beside her. He kept a calculated distance, but it was still close enough for their shoulders and knees to touch.

His gaze first landed on her newly bandaged arm, before moving up to her face and lingered there. Their eyes locked. “You really feel okay?”

“Guess so,” Seung-ah replied, probably a beat too soon, but what else could she respond to that? It was not as if she could tell the man beside her that it took a great deal of her self-restraint not to just lean on his shoulder right there and then.

She wondered briefly if he would let her. He did allow, and even initiate, things to happen between them already, so it was a fair assumption that she had the privilege. But she thought better of it.

She just felt extremely tired and wanted to sleep, so, so bad.

Seung-ah crossed her arms purposefully. Her hands were still shaking, slightly, but she hoped he didn’t notice.

There was no such luck, though, she could see it from the way one his eyebrows twitched slightly upon her lie. But he did not make a comment.

Instead, he just let out a long, low exhale, before continuing on, his voice soft and steady, “Come on, let’s get you home.”

~

In the car, the next thing Seung-ah did after giving him her address was to call Choi Soo-ji, her childhood friend. She did hear and remember the kind doctor's advice not to be alone, and she intended to comply.

If she was being honest with herself, of course she wanted no one but Jo Yeong himself to stay with her that night. But even at her most self-serving state, Seung-ah knew how crazy it sounded and she would not even entertain that idea any further.

She chose to focus her attention to Choi Soo-ji instead. "Soo-ji-ya, can you come over and stay with me tonight?"

"Right now? What's the occasion?" Soo-ji was a cellist and Seung-ah knew that she was currently busy preparing for her solo recital, but she just felt awkward phoning her other friends. She mostly got estranged from most of them except for Soo-ji when she was living in Canada. Choi Soo-ji was kind of her only hope.

"I-"

Seung-ah thought it over quickly, thinking of how much she should tell her. Her friend would find out the truth from the news pretty soon anyway, if she hadn’t already. Seung-ah assumed it was futile to try dodging the question, so she finally settled on the following, "I banged my head at work today. Need you to monitor me, just in case I grow two heads or something."

At the end of the line, her so-called best friend just responded with: "Don't you have those already?"

“Yah, Choi Soo-ji,” Seung-ah chided. But actually, she was glad that her friend chose to joke about it. There was a lifelong understanding between them, and she was really not in the mood to answer any more questions than what was necessary.

The cellist chuckled. “Alright then. Some heads up, though, I’m gonna raid your chocolate and ice cream stash. I’m this close to losing my mind!”

After they both said their goodbyes, Seung-ah stole a glance sideways at the Captain as she ended the call.

For some reason, she found herself at a loss for words, wondering what she should open their conversation with. It was weird, really, because she usually had no problem teasing him or anything. But at that moment, her mind just went blank.

True, they had kissed that night during the King's birthday, not just in the locker room, but also at the secluded halls of the palace. (It was one of the perks of getting it from a Royal Guard who knew precisely where all the CCTV cameras were by heart.) And Seung-ah had to stress that the kissing part was good. More than good, actually.

It was intense, and a little bit rough.

It was everything she imagined it would be and then more-

But they hadn’t even had the chance to have the talk.

Both were practically swept away with their respective responsibilities right after the party ended. Him, with the security debriefing, and her, with the event photos and publication which needed to move on tight deadlines.

After that, the following few days happened to be a busy period for the Captain, something that Seung-ah herself was also privy to as a staff of the PA Office. The King and Royal Court always had several public appearances scheduled right following his birthday, many which she also helped to organize, and she and her coworkers had been working around the clock to accommodate the sudden changes which always seemed to happen around such events.

Between the two of them, phone messages were exchanged and short calls were occasionally made, but they all happened sporadically. Often, he would reply to her messages on all sorts of odds hours. In return, she would feel bad engaging him in extended trivial conversations, so their message thread was a mess of half-baked inquiries and choppy attempts at discourse.

She was even worried that he was not getting enough sleep as he should, so Seung-ah had to practice a whole lot of self-restraints.

Being in a possible courtship with Jo Yeong sucked.

Of course, she would like to know where they stood too. Were they considered dating already? Were they still strictly coworkers, but he's still trying to court her? Was it still the other way around, her chasing him? Or all of it didn't mean anything to him?

Seung-ah was pretty sure it wouldn't come to the last option, though. She was not a genius, but the fact that the Captain of the Royal Guards chose to stay with her and take her home instead of guarding the King in the aftermath of such a huge incident felt like a declaration already, coming from him.

So, why was she being so nervous, all of the sudden?

It should be the uncomfortable silence which fell between them. He didn’t even turn on his radio, no surprise there, but even for his standards, it was a new level of quietness.

It unnerved her.

What really did not help was that his cell phone, which was connected to his car systems, kept ringing and ringing, and he kept declining the calls. He had even taken off his earpiece too, she realized belatedly when she noticed that his right ear was bare, no device in sight.

She really tried to make sense of the mood - his mood, to be more specific, but she was only able to come up with one easy assumption: he must be furious.

"Daejangnim?" she started, testing the water.

He did not even give her any indication that he heard her.

"Are you....angry?" She took a pause, unsure if she should continue. But she did. She wanted to know. "With me?"

Seung-ah watched him carefully as his furrowed brows deepened upon hearing the question.

"No,” he replied. Icy. Curt. Dismissive. What he said totally contradicted how he said it.

At times like these, she just hated his monosyllabic tendencies.

He confused her further though, by finally turning to look at her as they stopped in traffic. “Why don’t you try to get some sleep?" He had said, his tone was tender this time around. "I'll wake you when we've arrived."

Seung-ah decided she would just agree to his suggestion. Her head did feel heavy, and his ever changing moods were a bit too much for her to also deal with at the moment.

Closing her eyes, she rested her head against the window, and soon drifted off.

~

"Be sure to give the hospital a call on the first sign of discomfort, okay?" He reminded her, seemed to revert back to his gentle self when he escorted her to her front door. "Watch out for any ringing in your ears, nausea, or even if you experience any sleep disruption."

"I will. Thank you for taking me home, daejangnim," she said, basking in his attention.

"Has your friend arrived already?”

“Hang on.”

Soo-ji knew her passcode, so Seung-ah just needed to key in her code and check her apartment’s entryway for her friend’s shoes to know the answer. And right on cue, Soo-ji’s bright red pumps greeted her sight. They were already lined up neatly beside her boots and heels, in exchange for one of her room slippers.

“Ah, yes, she’s here already,” Seung-ah informed him, feeling a pang of disappointment. She would not get the chance to invite the Captain inside for a quick tea after all. She was not ready for him to meet any of her friends just yet, even if said friend was Soo-ji. Especially Soo-ji, with her Spanish Inquisition.

“Okay then,” Jo Yeong had said. He nodded his goodbye greeting and then turned on his heels. She caught the sight of him instantly re-attaching his earpiece as he started to go down the stairs.

Seung-ah stayed put, leaving her door open as she watched his receding back for a while. The Captain finally took his phone out and answered his call. “Cut it out, Heok-pil. You don't have to keep calling me. I've told you, I'll deal with it after I got back-"

She could still hear his frustrated sigh from her doorway, before his voice became fainter as he expanded the distance. "Fine, might as well. Just put him on.”

Seung-ah visibly deflated.

Being in a potential courtship with Jo Yeong totally sucks, big time.

~

At first, she thought that it should be a mistake.

But then she reread and reread the latest email that the Captain of the Royal Guards had just sent to the whole PA Office regarding their latest proposal, and then she just went angrier by the minute. No, enraged.

She never thought such a day would come. Not that soon, anyway.

"Where is Jo daejangnim?" demanded Seung-ah to her Royal Guards acquaintance, Park In-young, whom she encountered just outside of the Royal Guards Headquarter which also served as the Palace’s Control Tower.

The Royal Guard in question had just closed the door to said office behind her. “He’s inside,” In-young replied.

She should have noticed the fire in her eyes, because In-young continued a beat later, her tone urgent, “Hey, you don't want to disturb him right now, Miss Myeong Seung-ah."

Why the hell not, was what she’d like to say, but it was not In-young she was furious with. So, Seung-ah settled with, "Why not?"

"He had been pulling all-nighters for several days now. Heok-pil had gotten such an earful about some minor typos in his report, Jo daejangnim looked like he’s this close to explode. He is scariest whenever he’s trying to hold it in instead, you know.”

Ah, so he still retained his murderous mood from the incident, Seung-ah thought.

“We all have been walking in eggshells,” she concluded. "Tread with caution."

“Thank you for the warning,” Seung-ah replied, even though she felt like she did not give a damn.

At that time, she would bet that she was even angrier than him, though strictly only for professional reasons. On the personal front, her relationship with the Captain was having very little progress since he had dropped her off last week, but it was indeed peak season for both and they took their respective jobs very seriously, so she had no complaints on that subject as of yet. What also helped was his last text to her, which was stamped at 5:02 a.m. that morning, consisted of a sincere morning greeting and a gentle reminder to bring her umbrella to work that day because of the weather forecast. She had been woken up to it with a smile on her face.

Jo Yeong could be sweet when he wanted to (albeit also such a grandma).

But he could also turn into such a prick at work.

“Jo daejangnim, I would like some explanation, please," she wasted no time stating her disapproval right after she entered his office. She marched up towards his desk. "You can't just-"

Seung-ah stopped herself when she finally arrived in front of him.

He looked bad. Well, that was such a quick way to describe it, actually, but it did sum up the sight before her at that moment.

When she approached, he was in the middle of pinching his temples with one hand, rubbing them with his thumb and middle finger in circular motion. The Captain stopped what he was doing, though, once he clearly registered her voice. When he lowered his hand, Yeong looked weary, the dark circles under his eyes were unmistakable, and he was slightly paler than usual.

He let out an annoyed exhale as he rose up from his seat to meet her gaze.

His voice came out scarily level then, like it took him a great deal not to chew her up right then and there. "I've sent memos to the Royal Public Affairs Office about our code of conduct, have I not? You cannot just propose a new event, on such an open space, consisting of such outrageous proposals to involve so many civilians on divided fronts, with just a week's notice to the Royal Guards. I have explained it all in the documents, which now I doubt you read."

Out of the corner of her eyes, she could see the remaining Royal Guards in the room try to shuffle quietly towards the door.

"But you cannot just make the recommendation to dismiss the whole event. We've worked hard for months on it-”

"I can, and I just did," he stood his ground. At that point, he gave her an unflinching glare.

Seung-ah felt like crying in frustrations.

The Royal Public Affairs, especially she, had been working on the event for months. They planned on revamping the Royal Court image to reflect the modern times and promote science and knowledge all at the same time by inviting carefully selected digital influencers from various backgrounds to a single conference: from biotechnology scientists, startup practitioners, financial advisors, to entrepreneurs and digital marketers. There should be a packed schedule of interactive presentations, and each of the influencers would be prompted to stream the conference’s contents to their own platforms. Offline and online spreading of knowledge and networking opportunities, all at once.

The King, being a man of science and knowledge himself, had been reviewing the initiative with enthusiasm right from the start. He had even volunteered his expanded time to collaborate on-site with a few of the influencers.

To say that the event was a big deal for Seung-ah was a bit of an understatement.

"I'm just trying to understand," her voice quivered slightly then.

Yeong closed his eyes at that, his eyebrows knitted even more than usual as he let out a long exhale. "Please, not now, Miss Myeong Seung-ah."

When he reopened his eyes, she was stunned to see the resigned plea in his eyes. "My head hurts," he said, quietly.

She softened in an instant.

"I'm sorry if I make it worse," she said, her anger evaporated. “I just-”

She did not finish her sentence. Everything she had been prepared to counterattack him with felt awfully childish then. She had never seen the Captain like that. He made her both confused and slightly terrified at the same time.

They fell into a pregnant pause.

Yeong threw his gaze away from her after a while. And then, after drawing in a breath, he finally confessed, "I- I did not even think about Pyeha when I dived in to save you."

Seung-ah froze, taking his admission in. The patterns and connections started to form in her head.

He should have felt lost, she realized. Jo Yeong, the best swordsman of the nation, whose single focus for almost the entirety of his life was to protect His Majesty and His Majesty only, suddenly had his life priorities yanked from under him.

How was she supposed to know that her initiative to have both the King and herself circling the conference independently all day long was enough to push the Captain over the edge?

He looked absolutely terrified. "Look what you've done to me, Miss Myeong Seung-ah."

Seung-ah rushed over to him then, hugging him real tight. Her heart ached seeing him that way. "I'm sorry," she said. "I'm sorry I make it harder for you. I didn't know you feel that way."

He burrowed his head on the crook of her neck, returning her embrace.

They stayed like that for a while.

"I'll follow your stupid rules, then,” Seung-ah relented, her voice half muffled by his shirt.

Yeong let out an incredulous chuckle.

Finally, Seung-ah thought, the tightness in her chest instantly dissipated. She would have to overhaul her proposal, but she supposed it’s worth it. She realized that she was way too lenient with the man.

"Thank you," he replied quietly. He broke their embrace to look at her properly. “Just this once. Next time, give me much more time to prepare, will you? We can go over the best course of action together."

“I need to make sure I can protect both you and the Majesty at all times,” was unsaid, but he didn’t need to spell it out for her. She could see it in his eyes, loud and clear.

“It’ll be my pleasure,” she replied, already pulling him into another hug.

A few minutes passed, and when it should’ve dawned on him that she probably wouldn’t budge anytime soon, Yeong finally voiced his concern, "Uh, Seung-ah?"

"Let me be," she said. "Just for five minutes more. I just had a fight with my captain, I need some time to calm myself down."

Somewhere above her, she heard Yeong made a mortified noise.

She just stood there, comforted by the sound of his beating heart. Strong. Steady. The one who's worried for her. Her protector.

Seung-ah's smiles got wider as Yeong started to caress her hair.

Being in a courtship with Jo Yeong can be so wonderful, her heart is full.

[sweetdonutwolf]

A Near Fatal Mistake Pt. 2^*

PART 1

Angst/Fluff Prompt: After making it to the Tournament of Champions you and your team were one round win away from taking it all. Everything was running smoothly until real C-4 went off severely wounding you with Blitz at your side. The last thing you remember was Blitz crying for you asking you to forgive him. Now only time will tell how bad your wounds really are.

WARNINGS: Mentions of death and near death experience, verbal and physical fighting, cussing, blood, injury to you and others, hospital setting.

Note: I wrote this very late with little sleep I’m sorry if its a little choppy in some places. I’ll be editing it again after i get some rest.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A warmth enveloped you, darkness still surrounded you but you were at least conscious, or so you thought. You opened your eyes, bright light blinding you. Trying to shield your eyes held your hand up in front of them while you adjusted to the lighting. Rolling green hills surrounded you, cotton like clouds hung above you. You were home,  though how you ended up back at your family ranch was a mystery to you. You tried to remember how you ended up here, the last day seemed to be gone from your memory.

You began wandering down the hill to the barn hoping to find your dad, he’d  help make sense of this whole situation, he did spend all his time tending to the horses after all and always knew what to do.

The trek was long but you knew these hills like the back of your hand, your friends would spend ages riding out in the country. Your mind wandered to your childhood horse, Buckeye. 

A dark figure caught your eye cresting the slope below, you tried to get your eyes to focus on the quickly approaching figure. Your heart was filled with joy, your eyes lit up like a child.

“Buckeye!”. You started running towards him the last time you saw him alive was before your deployment overseas, he had passed away a month after. Your excitement to see him again overruled the confusion, you ran even harder.

You and Buckeye nearly collided when you met up. He was just as energetic as you remember him to be.

“Hey Bucky boy.” Moving your hand you began scratching his favorite spot, behind his left ear. “ What are you doing out here big guy?”. You moved towards his side, grabbing a bit of his mane in your hand. “ Just like old times okay buddy” You patted his neck as you hoisted yourself up on his back.

It felt so good to be back on him again, all these memories of your childhood came rushing back once more.  

“Let’s go find dad”. With a click of your heels you two headed towards the barn. The wind was crisp and birds were nestled in the trees chirping their beautiful songs, you had forgotten completely of everything else, stuck in this moment. 

You arrived at the barn and dismounted off of Buckeye, a sharp pain shot through your abdomen causing you to fall to your knees. Buckeye began whining, you stumbled back up to your feet grimacing at the pain still present.

“I’m okay.” The pain began to worsen and you started feeling nauseous, the world was starting to turn as you stumbled forward. You needed to find help. Making your way to the door you started to feel a warm trickle down your pants and shirt, a big laceration appeared on your side. Blood was spreading from the wound and was making its way down your leg. Panic set in as you struggled to open the door. 

“Dad!” You yelled hoping for a response but none came. You turned your weakened body around to try and find Buckeye, the door was closed, you knew you left it open and you were sure of it. The world was starting to go dark, you pushed the door but it refused to budge. Collapsing you felt defeated, tears began to gather in your eyes.

“Please help!” Banging on the door proved worthless. You began to give in, you felt weak and started to feel out of breath. Each breath became the struggle you noticed a pounding headache starting to form. Thoughts of your life came flooding back, you gave in an layed down on the floor, you had given up. Sitting there quietly you began coughing up blood and you sat in silence, waiting for what you believed to be the end.

A loud explosion rumbled through the barn, adrenaline flowed through your body as it started collapsing at the far end. The ruble was making its way to you. You screamed, closing your eyes, you heard the roof above you fall as you braced yourself.

You felt nothing you knew you were still alive, immediately you opened your eyes, your body shot up in panic. You found yourself in a hospital bed, Blitz was in a chair in the corner sleeping, he looked so peaceful there. Everything came back to you at once, the explosion, and Blitz crying out your name. You began to calm down. You turned your attention back to Blitz watched his chest gently rise and fall, memories of the explosion came back to you. You continued to watch him, you knew he had blamed himself for you getting hurt and you felt terrible for it. 

A bit of an ache was still present where the shrapnel cut you, minor cuts and bruises littered your body.Wanting to see more you looked at your reflection in the mirror hanging by the door, black encircled both eyes, a common sign of being near an explosion. 

“Damn, I look like shit.” You mumbled under your breath. The rhythmic beeps of the monitors started to bug you, your ears still had a faint ring and that added on started to get on your last nerve. Shifting over to try and find a way to shut the damn machines up you let out a wince.

“Fuck.” You fell back down into the bed, covering your face and ears with the pillow trying to dampen the noise.

“Come on now you aren’t that ugly y/n, you don’t need to hide your face under that pillow.” Blitz's voice was like music to your ears. You lowered the pillow tossing it at him.

“ eak.” He smiled and gently tossed it back at your feet.

“Well you weren’t the one who nearly died, you had your shield.” you playfully remarked back at him.

His smile faded and he looked back down to his feet.

“I didn’t mean it like that Elias, I know you did the best you could.” Guilt started to grow in you. “I wouldn’t have made it without you being there, you saved me.” You sat up some more waiting desperately for him to respond.

His bright blue eyes finally looked back up at you, tears filling them. Blitz got up off the chair and sat down at the foot of your bed looking at you.

“ I could have done more y/n, I should have reacted quicker, if i did…” He paused for a moment trying to hold back tears. “You wouldn’t be here if I blocked you better, I made it practically scratch free and you y/n-- you almost died.” He put his head in his hands. The once carefree and goofy man was broken, lost in a sea of guilt and sadness.

 “I’m still here though Elias” You reached your hand out and placed it on his shoulder. “ Look at me, I forgive you one hundred percent.” He placed his hand on top of yours.

“ I know you do y/n, but I don’t know if I can forgive myself.” His eyes met yours, you noticed tears were streaming down his face. “ I thought I was losing you y/n, and I never want to go through that again, I was holding you there hoping that the last thing you remembered wasn’t me letting you down.”

“Elias please forgive yourself, for me.” You notice tears building in your eyes. 

“I didn’t survive all of this so I could witness you slowly beat yourself up over it, especially looking like a fucking racoon for fuck sakes.”

A faint smile appeared on Blitz’s face. You could tell you got through to him even if it was just a bit.

“Now that’s a smile i'm happy to see.” You gave a smile back despite the pain you were still in.

Blitz’s smile fell away, he shifted his body to face you . “ I haven’t even asked you how you’re doing.” He rested a hand on your leg.

“I’m happy to be alive, I’m glad I had you there, if it were anyone else I would have been dead and so would they.” You gave a reassuring look. Blitz turned away, processing what you said.

“Where’s the rest of the group at?” You wondered about Pulse but couldn’t get yourself to ask about him in fear of hearing the worst.

“They had to do a debriefing about the incident, I got mine done first thing this morning so I could be by your side when you woke up.” He turned back towards you.

“And what about Jack, is--- is he okay?” Your heart raced anticipating the worst.

“He’s fine, already up and walking, he suffered a concussion and a dislocated shoulder, I did hear he was getting questioned hard though about the whole thing.” Life started to come back to Blitz’s face, you could tell he was starting to ease up on himself.

“Don’t tell me I have to go in looking like this.” You pointed to you blacks eyes. “ The last thing i need is for my operator name to change from y/o/n to Racoon or panda.” You let out a small giggle.

“If you did I’d be right behind you wearing a racoon costume, they wouldn’t even give your eyes a second look.” Blitz erupted into laughter at the thought.

You laughed along with him wincing at the pain it brought. “There’s always makeup too you know.” The pain your chest made you cough.

“Take it easy y/n, you’ve been through a lot, the last I heard is that they’ll be keeping you here for observation for another night and after your release you’ll have yours.” He stood up and walked over to his bag, he must have packed one for an overnight stay. “ I almost forgot this.” He began to rummage around in his back before picking out a small leather satchel.

“What’s that for?” You sat up fully as he walked over and sat down next to you.

“It’s nothing too fancy, it’s no ring or anything.” He smiled and handed you the gift.

“I’m sure I’ll love it anyway.” You began opening the drawstring taking a quick look up at Blitz, his face was nervous hoping you’d like it. You tipped the bag upside down letting the gift fall out into your hand. A small green metallic shamrock encircled in silver fell out, it was a charm just like Blitz’s that he kept on his shield.

“Where did you get this, I thought yours was one of a kind.” You looked up in disbelief. You examined it further turning it in your fingers.

Smiling Blitz responded. “I have my ways, I knew you always like mine and that you didn’t have a luck charm like the rest of us did.” He pointed down at your hand. “Turn it over you’re missing the best part.”

A message was engraved into the metal as if it was done by hand.

-I give half my luck to you.

You knew how much his charm meant to him, it was a gift from his grandfather who had been through hell in the wars and survived being held as a POW after his plane was shot donw. Tears began to flood your eyes, it was a big deal to have a lucky charm on you during operations and you hated not having one. You rubbed your thumb over the intricate details of the engravings.

“Did you carve this?”

“Ya I couldn’t get it engraved and ready in time, I carved it while waiting for you to get out of surgery, kept my mind occupied.” He paused for a moment.

“You gave us quite a scare, we didn’t think you’d make it, even I was preparing for the worst.”

“ Well I’m still here Elias, You guys can’t get rid of me that easily.” Resting your hand on his arm.

“So about that top shelf alcohol.” He got back up and moved to his bag.

“You didn’t, om my god you didn’t, ha.” you started to chuckle, you knew exactly what it was.

“ But I did, and you can’t drink it now of course but I told the others we’d crack it open and celebrate once all this blew over.” He placed the bottle on the table next to you.

“I’d like Elias.” You picked up the bottle giving it a good look. “ I’d like that a lot.” A smile formed on your face, you were lucky to be alive.

[sidereal-fantasies]

Shadow’s Whisper

File #1: Mistakes

[Monsta X Ghost! AU]

Series!

Genre: Ghost AU, Angst, Horror

WARNING(s): Some gore and blood is mentioned in this installment. A curse word has been thrown in as well. If you are not comfortable whatsoever with those elements, please do not read.

Since that night, you’ve decided it was best to bury yourself in your work. Staying for a few extra hours and even taking on a few more tasks, work was all that consumed you for the next few weeks as the hard-drive laid untouched on your desk at home. Pale faces and iced over glares still snuck their way into your tired mind every now and then, but you were determined to bury the nightmare-ish feelings deep below everything else. It almost worked. Despite all the warnings and scoldings from friends and co-workers, the satisfaction of falling into a dreamless slumber left your soul at ease. Euphoria, you would call it, for no shadow threatened to disturb you at nightfall. That is, until one particular night.

It was a quiet night. The moon already took its place high amongst the clouds on the dark canvas above. All your hard work that day seeped into your tired bones and made falling asleep look like child’s play. The warmth of your sheets hugged your body as you continued to snooze.

Your fingers twitched as they hovered over the hard-drive. Curiosity bloomed deep within your tired soul. Suddenly, you grabbed the disk and placed it in your laptop.

“Took you long enough.”

“Shit—“

You whipped your head around only to meet the dead gaze of the owner of the disk. He cocked an eyebrow, amused by your startled state as he remained perched on the window sill.

“I’m surprised you didn’t look into it earlier given your background,” he commented.

“Wasn’t planning on it since you first scared me the other night,” you retorted as you got up from your seat.

His eyes followed your figure closely. Hesitant steps made their way towards him with careful consideration for the next move. He swung his feet to the floor and popped up, appearing taller than expected now that you stood in front of him.

“Are you here to steal my life or something?”

He scoffed, burying his hands into the large pocket of his worn hoodie while he shook his head in response.

“That’s some way to ask if I’m a ghost.”

“Well, are you one?” you inquired.

The corners of his lips turned downwards before he motioned for you to follow him.

“I’m just a soul that lost his way. Will you help me out?”

Reluctance glued your feet to the floor. Here you were, chatting with a dead spirit that supposedly needs your help now. It made sense for you to jump on the chance since you haven’t been attacked yet. There was also the hard-drive that laid plugged in to your laptop. Sweat coated your palms as you swallowed all the words that sat at the top of your tongue. All you could do was nod and follow him out to the hallway.

“There are things other than me that linger in the dark,” he began. “Desperate things that want to smother the light out of people like you.”

You watched carefully as he raised his hand and rubbed the back of his neck as if some weight were straining the muscles there.

“What do you mean like me?” you inquired.

He hesitated for a moment before he pointed in the direction towards the staircase.

“We all walk a thin line. Some are just lucky to have others there,” he muttered in a hushed tone.

You followed his gaze down the staircase to see him standing there, staring down at his hands which were covered in a familiar red liquid. Your heart froze as you tore your gaze away from the scene.

“Wh-what happened?” You were only met with another hush as he pointed back to the scene.

He took a few steps back to reveal millions of shards from a fallen mirror littering the floor. Lights flickered back and forth as he grabbed a tissue to brush any other shards in his scraped up palms.

“This was one of my biggest mistakes,” he noted. “And one of my last.”

Drip, drip, drip. You watched carefully as the lights suddenly turned off. The only sound filling the spaces in between was just your breath; or at least, you thought it was your breath for the moment. Drip… drip...

“Lim Changkyun,” you murmured.

He turned and turned, a sudden alertness flashed in his eyes as he checked his surroundings. Shadows moved and scurried across the floor. Child-like laughter echoed about.

“Young man who lived in this house a few years ago. Was a lone wolf according to his crew.”

He immediately lunged for the door, only to find that it wasn’t opening. Curses fell like raindrops on a window before he ran out of sight.

“Died just a year ago. Marked down as a cold case.”

A blood curdling shout ripped through the air just as the scene soon dimmed to nothing but darkness. You swallowed the hard lump that suddenly developed in your throat. Everything burned. Your back, your throat, your skin. You weren’t sure if you wanted to cry or scream. No tears welled up in your eyes. Instead, a sudden chill ran down your spine. You knew something was watching you now. Yet, you couldn’t see what was watching you.

“I-I don’t know how, but I, I’m so sorry,” you stuttered.

“The pity party died a long time ago, [Name]. All that’s left are a few unsettled souls,” Changkyun commented as he pulled you away from the staircase. “Keep looking forward. Whatever you do, don’t check what’s behind you.”

Loose floorboards echoed in the background. Chills tickled your skin, causing goosebumps to rise.

“Is there something I can’t see?” you questioned.

Changkyun was silent. He tilted his head slightly as he reached out. You could only stare as his hand inched forward to you, breath becoming short, heart beating faster. Perspiration dotted your hairline just as his hand stopped inches from your face.

“Things you shouldn’t see.”

His hand dropped back to his side, as if in defeat as he stared blankly at you.

“Go back to your room,” he suddenly ordered.

“Wait— you asked me to help you out. To, to move on! Why are you asking me to just go back?”

“Just. Go. Back,” Changkyun repeated. He pulled his hood down, ebony locks falling rather messily across his forehead. “I’m right behind you.”

You pressed your lips together as you tried to read his expression. Once again, it felt like you had ran into another steel wall.

With a sigh of defeat, you began to make your way back to your room. You could sense Changkyun’s presence, oddly, as if he truly was there and not a spirit of the house.

CRASH!!

“What was that?”

“It was just a door,” Changkyun quickly answered. “Like I said, keep moving and don’t look back.”

Your hand unconsciously reached out, groping the air by you. Changkyun took notice and slowly extended his fingers towards you. Another swipe left an odd feeling on your fingertips, causing you to freeze and look down at your now numb hand. He couldn’t comfort you even if he tried his hardest. For he was simply a spirit, maybe even a manifestation of your sleepless imagination. The physical contact you seeked out for comfort couldn’t be satisfied. He was nothing but a lost soul.

“You…” you trailed off. You retracted your hand, watching the sudden bitterness flood Changkyun’s spirit as he remained by your side.

“Keep—“

BANG!

Another door violently shut by itself. Nerves flared and gazes traveled about the hallway.

“Changkyun?”

He shook his head and motioned for you to keep moving. Just out of the corner of your eye—

CRASH—

“Keep going. Just a few more steps. Don’t look behind you—“

BANG!!

You flinched and covered your ears as the eerily familiar laughter resonated. Just a few more steps. Just a few more steps and it’ll be okay, you thought. Panic began to

“Are you there?”

“Don’t listen, [Name]. C’mon, don’t let that fear get to you.”

Changkyun’s voice was fading quickly. Your breath turned into staccato beats. You pressed your hands further against your ears. Your feet dragged you forward, as if the floor suddenly turned into molasses. The door to your room is right there. It’llbeokayit’llbeokayit’llbeokayit’llbeoka—

SLAM!

You collapsed to the floor just as the door slammed shut in front of your face. Tears spilled down your cheeks while screams ripped through the air.

“Changkyun! I can’t!”

Your heart continued to beat louder and louder. You swore your chest would shatter at any moment. Second by second, your choppy breath soon turned into desperate gasps as you tried scooting back as far as you can until your back met the wall. Curses fell from your lips as the shadows loomed over you, cackling, whispering, hissing in your ears. Nothing made coherent sentences. Everything sounded like static. Everything felt like a prick to the skin. The heat on your skin was unbearable.

“Please,” you whimpered,” please just let me go.”

“[Name]!”

Soon enough, darkness consumed you with an unsettling embrace.

You woke up, body bare to the freezing room as your blankets laid thrown across the floor. You immediately sat up and furrowed your eyebrows as you tried to recall last night’s adventure in the dark. Had it truly been a real thing and not a long-drawn out nightmare, you swore you would have been dead by now.

Your hands clenched fistfuls of the sheets. Thoughts crashed and burned within your pounding mind.

“Changkyun!” you gasped.

Your eyes frantically scanned the room only to find that your bedroom window was open. You quickly scrambled to your feet and shuffled across the floor to close the window. Once doing so, you lingered for a moment, fingertips slowly pulling away from the sill. Carefully, you turned and made your way over to your laptop which laid open.

“This file… it’s Changkyun’s case,” you murmured under your breath.

Multiple documents and photographs littered the screen. Basic information to gruesome evidence burned into your mind as you scrolled through the file. In the end, you could only pinch the bridge of your nose to keep your headache from growing. You moved the cursor over the red ‘x,’ hesitant to close the file. A desire to look through the other documents blocked you from clicking away to your relief. Yet, the tug on your conscious begged otherwise and convinced you to click on it. As the file closed, another one popped up next to it.

“This is insane.”

You slammed your laptop closed and buried your face into your hands. Seconds later, your phone vibrated from the corner. You peeled your eyes away from your palms and picked up your phone. An email notification laid unopened in your inbox. Curious, you tapped on it to open it.

[From: Unknown

The fun has just begun. You failed this time. Six more spirits, six more chances to figure it out. Maybe your reports might help you determine some things?

Good luck with the next spirit~]

[bakugouwu]

It All Comes to This - Chapter I : A Zutara Fanfic

Hi! This is the first chapter of my Zutara fanfiction. My original plan was to post the first seven chapters on Zutara Week, but I was dragged into a road trip and camping and whatever. I’ll try to post as much content as I can from now on, including fan art! Anyway, hope you enjoy!

o o o o o

“No lightning today?” Zuko taunts. “What’s the matter— afraid I’ll redirect it?” The prince steels himself. His hands shift down towards his abdomen, moving upwards and out, ready for the strike. He steadies his breathing. He’s in total focus. He doesn’t hear the fast-paced steps of Katara behind him.

Azula isn’t the same threat she once was. Her eyes are inhumanly wide, dilated, glassed over. Uneven bangs crop her heated face, bouncing with each uncoordinated attack. Her smudged lipstick and eyeliner add to the aesthetic, along with her messy tie-up hairstyle. Her moves are jagged and choppy, lacking the flow and precision of their previous encounters. It’s sad. Zuko can hardly believe it, but he feels sorry for her.

He doesn’t want to be here, dueling with his little sister, the same sister he played volleyball with on Ember Island, the same sister who he shared a bedroom with for the longest time when they were young.

The very same sister who left him to fall to his death at the Boiling Rock, the same sister who inprisioned him under Ba Sing Se, who led him to believe his father wanted him back, with the alterier motive to turn him and his uncle into the athoreties.

The same sister at the right side of his father, a child prodigy, a weapon to aide in the ultimate destruction of the world.

He had no choice.

“Oh, I’ll show you lighting!” She shrieks, shooting her torso forward, arms thrown uncomfortably behind her. Again, there’s no structure to her movements.

The girl brings the electricity to life, swirling her fingertips around herself, the mass of energy growing steadily.

The many other times Zuko had seen her use the technique she’d conjured small and controlled, yet powerful bursts of color. This though, this is sloppy and out of hand. Azula is surrounded by the neon bolts, a wicked smile stretched across her face. He can she her heavy, unsteady breathing, her chest heaving deeply.

She glares at her brother. He returns the stare, brow furrowed, confident.

The air is thick around the two. It’s dry and stale, and sweat runs down both siblings’ faces.

Azula’s eyes dart to her left.

She directs the bolt to the side and strikes.

Zuko realizes she’s not aiming at him.

She’s going to hit Katara.

A flash of light.

His eyes shift to the side. His stomach sinks. The lightning isn’t aimed at him.

At that instant, everything slows down. Everything’s a blur. It all goes goes quiet.

He has no time to think. Heart pounding, he turns on his heel. The earth trembles under his feet.

“NOOO!” His slow, painful cry fills the air. His arm reaches toward the attacker, but in vain. He’s too late to redirect the stream. The force of the blow sends him into the air. Fists clenched, his arms curl inward, taking the bolt to the chest. To his heart.

His ribs sting, almost cracking. His flesh burns, as if it were falling off his bones. He feels his heart is about to explode, if not from the lightning flooding his body, then from the heartbreak of almost losing Katara.

He’s struck to the ground, knocking the wind out of him. His body coils and twitches, still convulsing with electricity. He gasps, immense pain pulsing in his side. The sound around him is muffled, but he recognizes Katara’s soft voice.

“Zuko!”

Maybe it wasn’t soft. He couldn’t tell.

He hears a loud crack of lightning and faintly, the sound of feet on pavement.

Zuko rolls over onto his stomach, wincing in pain. He can barely see, but he knows Azula isn’t the merciful type. He catches murmured laughing and feels the ground quake as light strikes the earth.

He reaches a desperate hand in direction of the commotion, and in overwhelming agony digs at the ground to get up. He collapses at the effort.

The light around him fades, and his face grows cold.

. . . . .

Zuko wakes up, being turned onto his back. He winces in pain, his chest burning. He can’t move.

He feels hands on him, and something cold, yet soothing. He struggles to open his eyes, but just a little.

A look of pain covers his face, then relief.

She’s alive. She beat Azula.

He knew, with no doubt, if he had died just now, it would all be worth it, because she’s alive. He had so many things to say to her, but he could barely speak.

“Thank you, Katara.” Was all he could manage. His heart broke when when she burst into tears. Her face broke into a smile.

“I think I’m the one who should be thanking you.”

They stayed like that for awhile, in silence.

She took her hands off of his chest and blended the water into her skin. Zuko opened his eyes.

He lifted himself on a hand and tried to get up.

“Oh, Zuko.” She helped him onto his feet, then walked him over to his sister, supporting as much of his weight as she could.

They stared in silence as Azula fought her restraints, thrashing around on the floor. The air filled with wild flames from the princess’s mouth, along with her agonized screams. She began to sob, huge tears streaming down her nose and face, falling onto her blouse and through the grate below her.

The pair watched the pitiful performance, feeling almost sorry for the fallen warrior.

Zuko’s knees felt weak. He strained to keep upright, but his legs gave out.

“Zuko!”

He sees Katara’s face over his, her mouth moving. Then he sees nothing.

o o o o o

Thanks for reading!

[peachyhyvck]

some of my favorite pics of mark lee

author's note: yes bitches, I'm back with another!! this one’s a tad bit different from the last, and its got almost double the amount of pictures,,, but I hope you still enjoy it, nonetheless! this pic set includes waayyy too many categories to list off so you're just gonna have to look through them and see for yourself! (’; sO WITHOUT FURTHER ADO, HERe are,, my favorite pics of mark lee:

cute mark:

okay, but mark’s selfies are always so damn precious and they never fail to put a smile on my face

I LOOOVVEEEEE THIS PICTURE WITH ALL MY HEART!!!!! THE WAY HE GRADUALLY COVERS HIS FACE MAKES MY HEART MELT HOLY MOLY

everything about this picture is just perfect... his smile is so facking cute, and do you sEE THAT LIL DIMPLE???? ADORABLE.

I honestly don't know what the hell is going on in this picture, but his facial expression is so fucking cute that I'm squealing like a damn pig rn so,,,,

never mind -  E V E R Y  FACIAL EXPRESSION HE HAS IS JUST SO PRECIOUS AND I REALLY NEED TO FIND SOME NEW WORDS CAUSE IM JUST REPEATING MYSELF OVER AND OVER AGAIN AT THIS POINT!!!

I remember watching this for the first time and,, I kid you the fuck not,, I actually threw my phone across the room

wow..... I've never been sO soft!! for someone in my entire life.......

these might just be my 2 favorite pictures of mark lee....?? I mean, I say that about every picture, but these 2??? utterly flawless.

candid mark

I looovveee his damn hair so so sooo much in these last 4 pictures and if sm fucks with it in any way, shape, or form,,, you best watch the fuck out........ (lmaoo this was before sm went and fried his hair aGAIN but tbh I expected nothing less from them,,,)

he looks so smol and innocent in this picture and I'm barely keeping my shit together!!!!

he looks like a motherfucking prince in these photos!!!!!!! I mean, am I right or am I right ??!?!?!!?!%@$^&

idk man I just really love his smile and it truly brings happiness to my poor, dysfunctional, bitter soul

these pictures are THE definition of ethereal!!!!!!

I'm gonna take a moment to interrupt the ““cute”” theme I've got goin on to insert this (?) gem because idk what the fuck he’s doin but it really made me laugh so I thought I'd share

I think I just heaved the biggest content sigh in history because I just really, really love mark lee

disrespectful mark

idk who gave mark permission to be this blatantly rude but it sure as hell wasn't me!!!!

alright I'm really gonna need him to stop because I feel all shaken up and I'm Not okay with this at all

props to the camera person for holding their composure cause I sure as hell would’ve dropped Dead under such an intense gaze

“mark” and “tough” don't really fit together all that well, but looking at this picture I'm absolutely, 100% positive he could beat the living shit out of me

I HATE THIS PICTURE WITH EVERY DAMN OUNCE OF MY BEING!!!! DO YOU KNOW WHAT KIND OF TORMENT AND CHAOS THIS FUCKING PHOTO PUTS ME THROUGH??!??!!?!? IT IS THE HIGHEST FORM OF DISRESPECT AND I DEMAND THAT IT BE PUNISHABLE BY AT LEAST 5 MORE YEARS IN NCT DREAM!!!!!!

dunno what he’s doin but veins really fuck ya girl up and his arm in this photo is really testing me,,,,,,

he looks so good???? but like,, too good?????? idk. I disapprove. NEXT

these polaroids are both a blessing and a curse and the fans who got these are honestly the luckiest bitches on earth cause damn y’all really snatched yourselves a couple of winners!!!!

no no non no on Ono nono. what do you think you’re doing. stop it right now and put the fucking jacket back on!! and no more tank tops..... my heart can't handle such things........

honestly, I don't even know anymore..... I'm literally speechless......... I just don't know how its humanly possible to look That FUCking gOOD!!!! everything about this picture is messin with my head and he’s reaalllllyyyyy startin to test a bitch,,

boyfriend mark

well, damn. he’s really out here just servin us these boyfriend looks, isn’t he???

tbh it might just be because his back and chest look so Broad in these photos, but I'm pickin up some major boyfriend-ish vibes!!!

awww boyfriend mark impatiently watching the clock tick by as he counts down the minutes until he gets to see your beautiful face ((((’:;;::;

oh damn,, boyfriend mark waiting to pick you up outside your job :^]

can you just imagine walking next to mark and looking up to find him staring at you like this I'd funking DIE!!!!!

boyfie mark carrying your backpack for you as the two of you walk home from school together (((((((’’:

boyfriend mark staring at you from afar while another guy shamelessly flirts with you ;o

tbh this is how boyf mark would look whenever the two of you get into a pretty heated argument... expect the silent treatment and some intense glares

“oh shit, oh shit, oh shit! I'm late for our date!! gotta run, gotta run, gotta ru-”

shopping with boyfriend mark!!!!! (peep dat arm doe,,,,)

yeah, yeah. I know it’s just a picture of his back - but like... just picture yourself walking up to that and giving him the warmest, tightest, most affectionate backhug you could......... cause same

boyfriend mark goin to pick ya ass up while trying not to draw too much attention to himself,,, shhhh!!

pre-debut mark

okay but mark was the cutest damn child, and like,, that's a fact

LOOK AT THE INNOCENCE IN HIS EYES!!!!!!!

I just wanna tuck him into bed and read him some bedtime stories )))’:::

k I think we can all agree that mark’s mirror selfies are LEGENDARY. NEVER LET THESE DIE. EVER.

why does his outfit remind me of something justin bieber circa 2012 would wear lmao

don't come at me but like,, why do these 2 pics remind me of seventeen’s vernon......... i mean im jus sayin........

this picture? is so? precious??? caN I JUST SWADDLE HIM PLEASE??????

oh look!! this must’ve been right around the time when sm stopped allowing mark to get even the slightest bit of rest!!!

he looks like such a lil man here dear lord

the many hairstyles/colors throughout mark’s career

starting off with the 7th sense debut, we have marks.... questionable.... black, choppy, bangs-cut-too-short hairstyle!! it truly is one for the books....

moving onto fire truck era, sm kinda dropped a bomb on us with the multi-colored hair. but as crazy as orange and purple hair sounds (and kinda looks) mark actually pulled it off pretty damn well???

buT THEN IN THE MIDDLE OF PROMOTIONS THEY DECIDED TO DYE HIS WHOLE HEAD PURPLE AND BLESS US ALL!! like, I have a hard time picturing mark with extremely bright and extravagant hair colors (like hyuck or chenle) but lemme tell ya mark looked so damn good with the purple holy shit sm brinG THAT BACK!!!

and then at the end of promotions (obvs prepping mark’s hair for dreams debut) they decided his scalp hadn’t been through enough, so they bleached it and made him blonde (((’::::

dreams debut!!!!! whoop whoop!!!! they dyed mark’s hair a rose gold tinted color and honestly?? he looked hella good???? idk what I was saying earlier about not being able to see mark pull off bright and extravagent colors cause my boy absolutely slayed orange, purple AND pink!!!

now we come across the holy period that was mark’s dirty blonde hair during chewing gum promotions,,,, let’s all just take a moment of silence because of how damn Good this look was..... the color and the haircut itself were so fucking nice and tbfh i have a special place in my heart for this look

whelp..... here comes limitless!!! the BOP of the century, but also the fucking disaster of the millennium that was marks perm........... sm did my boy so dirty with this one..... as if his hair hadn't been through enough torture, they go and do THIS? sickening.

NOW WE’RE BACK ON OUR GOOD STREAK!! after the perm settled down a bit they finally realized that they needed to make up for their horrendous mistake, SO they put a lil pink in the mix and BAM!! we got our lil cotton candy baby (^=

and then the pink started to fade )))’:: leaving him with cute little pink tinted curls!!!! (((’::

MFAL (what an era.....) if im being completely honest, mark’s mfal hair is my religion. it’s not nearrlllyyy as poofy and untamed as it was before, and the little blonde curls really worked for him rip...

not to mention when they straightened it and we got our royal prince lookin ass mark lee!!!!

head shot pop,, cherry bomb was another holy era for marks hair. it had been sooo long since we’d seen dark haired mark that it pretty much threw the whole fandom into a frenzy when it happened.

tbfh his we young hair took a little while to grow on me. i’ve always loved the longer, shaggier bangs on mark, and the short bangs were giving me war flashbacks to t7s era,,,, and the shaved sides were so!!! different that idk. it just took me a while to adjust...

but I would later come to Love his we young hair because it eventually grew into this fucking beauty - which is also my faVORITE DAMN HAIRSTYLE ON THIS BOY,, HOLY SHIT!!! HIS HAIR JUST LOOKS SO PERFECT AND I JUST WANNA RUN MY FINGERS THROUGH IT AND PLAY WITH IT AGGHHJJHBPWUEB

**sigh** but then sm went and did what they always do and fucked with something that was already perfect ///: I mean, although i am pretty distraught over the loss of quite possibly the best hair style of his career, he does look mighty fine with the honey blond color so its all good (((;;

anD THEN!! THEY LITERALLY BLEW ALL OF US OUT OF THE DAMN WATER WITH THE FUCKING BRIGHT, STOP SIGN, TICKLE ME ELMO LOOKIN ASS RED!!!!!!!! NAAaahhhh I'm just playin :”)) i’ve said it so many times already, but he really can pull off just about any color and i must say, the red is really workin for him,, uh huh, uh huh, yes sir!!

the lil duck face pout

idk why he Always does this but it’s fucking hilarious and it never fails to crack me tf up

cute stage persona

LOOK AT THAT BIG ASS SMILE!!!!!!! THIS IS THE KINDA SHIT I LOVE TO SEE!!!!!!!!!! HE JUST LOOKS SO FLUFFY!!!!!!!!

y’all, i dont even know. he’s in the middle of dancing but he just looks so cute and squishy!! i had to include it

again... I have no words other than his smile is fucking. flawless.

I SHOULD BE CRINGING (AND TBH I KINDA AM) BUT HE’S SO DAMN PRECIOUS THAT I DON’T EVEN CARE!!!!!

I can totally picture in my head the dorky lil dance move he did along with that face to whoever was taking the picture and honestly,, I can’t help but smile

WHY DOES HE DO THIS?? DOES HE WANT ME TO SUFFER??? CAUSE HE’S LITERALLY MAKING MY INSIDES TURN TO MUSH!!!!!!

I have no clue what the hell he’s doing, but i could care less!!! i’m just gonna go with it!!!!!!!

omfg he’s like that one nerdy friend who tries to act all cool but just ends up embarrassing himself ((and looking hella cute while doing so)) gaAAHHhHHH

rude stage persona

mark is always facking adorable!! but the few times he decides to act all rude, he makes sure to have absolutely zero fucking mercy on us, and its Not fair!!

don’t give me that face istg imma smack the shit outta ya!!!!

he’s literally just rapping but i feel highly offended and i would appreciate a sincere apology

mark is smiling 95% of the time, but the other 5% that he’s not, he’s making faces like these^^ and im real fuckin tired of the blatent disregard for my feelings!!

I don't approve! I don't approve at all!!!! the look on his face is throwin me off and I'm confused!!!!!!

BOIII THIS MIGHT BE THE RUDEST FUCKIN PICTURE I’VE EVER SEEN AND I SHIT YOU NOT MY DAMN STOMACH JUST DROPPED!!!!!!! MY ALREADY WEAKENED HEART CAN’T HANDLE THIS KINDA SHIT, MAN!!!!!!!!! I NEED TO GO LIE DOWN,,,,,

HE’S GOT NICER ABS AND NICER UNDERWEAR THAN I DO, GOD DAMN!!!!

THE FUCKING SLEEVES ARE ROLLED UP - ABORT MISSION! I REPEAT, ABORT THE FUCKING MISSION!!!!!!!!

mark + hats = A Look I'm here for

first up, we got them bucket hats!!!! if ya ask me, mark can pull off almost any hat, and he kinda looks adorable in the bucket hats (especially with his blond curly mops fallin out of em!!!!)

now onto the snapbacks! a very typical look, yet he still looks breathtaking ((’::::

and now we’ve got the floppy hats (?) and tbh he kinda looks adorable in them???

AND WE’RE AT BEANIES ALSO KNOWN AS MY FAVORITE FUCKING HEADWEAR ON MARK LEE!!!!!! BOY CAN PULL OFF A BEANIE BETTER THAN I’VE EVER SEEN ANYONE DO IT EVER!!!!!!!!!

and finally we've got..... whatever the fuck this thing is lmao kinda reminds me of a chef hat but my boy still looks hecka fly so its gucci!!!!

BONUS: MARK IN A HEADBAND!! HEY SM, PLEASE DO THIS LOOK AGAIN!!!!!

BONUS BONUS: THE HOLY LOOK THAT IS MARK WEARING A BANDANA!! HEY SM, MAYBE BRING BACK THIS LOOK AS WELL, K THNKS!!!!!!!

idk, but I need to rant about it !!

not only is ya girl emo as helllllll because he successfully graduated high school despite his fucking insane schedule, (yeah,, I'm lookin at you sm... fight me), but these grad pics are the definition of heavenly !!!!!!!!

this boy video took me for all that I'm worth.... he just looked so? fucking? good??? like I wanna know who the fuck he thinks he is just lookin all fine and shit,,,

y’alls..... i honestly didnt even know which category to stick this beauty under because i was honestly just?? blown the absolute fuck away??? with the perfection of not only this photo, but the boy in the photo, as well??????? like,, the dark, shaggy hair along with that lil smirk are really doin some fucked up shit to ya girl and i just dont know anything anymore (((’=

not much to say about this one.... I just think he looks hella adorable crouched down into a lil ball ((’:

maRK MOTHERFUCKIN LEE HIDING BEHIND RANDOM ASS OBJECTS WHENEVER HE GETS EMBARRASSED MIGHT JUST BE MY FAVORITE FUCKING THING IN THIS UNIVERSE!!! IT MAKES ME WANNA HUG HIM TO DEATH AND NEVER LET GO!!!!!

first of all: no

second of all: No

third of all: the hell you think you lookin at?

last of all: N O

(like for real, who gave you the right to look all grown and shit?? cause I'd like to have a few words with them......)

and last, but certainly not least, we've got this golden picture of mark dressed like a middle aged, white, suburban dad.... do with it what you will (((’:::::

**all pic creds go to their rightful owners