#i 10000% promise you i came up with that name years ago when i was playing da:i for the first time

[glitterdustcyclops]

in a moment of absolute self-indulgence i decided to try and recreate one of my fav ocs from inquisition, the sassy dual-wielding rogue tavin. given what i had to work with i don't think i did half bad tbh.

and so of course, obviously, i had to make my guardian look as much like iron bull as possible. lmao.

[donteattheappleshook]

AU Prompt: Emma pushed Killian away when he confessed his feelings to her. He’s finally returned home, a bit broken by the world. Will she finally have the guts to tell him what she always regretted not saying? (Can be smutty or not)

Sorry this took a few weeks but here it is! Thank you for my first ever prompt! I don’t know if this is what you wanted but this is what it turned into... nearly 10000 words of friends to lovers angst.

You can read it on Ao3

Send me your prompts!

Emma met Killian Jones when she was seventeen years old and she hadn’t liked him one bit. From the moment he’d first said hello to her she’d read him as a cocky, smooth talking broody type who probably liked to win over girls with his accent and his Edward Cullen like aloofness. She had not been a fan. She’d let him know too, on multiple occasions. 

She’d spent most of her time avoiding him for the first month of the semester and she was doing a pretty good job of it actually. That is, until she got detention. For being late. How unfair was that? It wasn’t her fault that Ruth’s car wouldn’t start in the morning and so she and David had had to walk to school. David got away with it, he always did. He was sweet and friendly and he could charm teachers like it was nobody’s business. 

Emma had scowled and defended her innocence and had ended up with detention. She loved the guy, really. Ever since he and Ruth had taken her in a year ago she was nothing but grateful for their kindness and love. She’d even started referring to him as her brother. She just hated how much better he was at being a person than she was sometimes. 

That was the second time she met Killian Jones. She was shocked to find him there. Despite her first impression she had managed to discover that he was, at his core, a nerd. He may dress like the love interest in a teen movie but he spent most of his time in the library or sitting under trees reading or doing homework. He even wore glasses sometimes, these big, awful square things that took over half his face. So what was he doing in detention?

“Afternoon, Swan,” he said when she walked in. He was immediately shushed by the teacher who had gotten the unfortunate role of supervising them. “I’m just being friendly,” she heard him mutter under his breath. 

They were the only two in there today. They had to stay for an hour after school. She guessed the punishment for being late to class was being late to dinner. They were told to sit silently and to either do homework or read. Emma figured she might as well try to get through some of her English homework. She was crap at it and it was the one subject that David couldn’t help her with. She’d rather do it here then at home. 

She started working through the questions for Act 1. Why the hell did they still study Shakespeare? The guy was dead four hundred years now. Give it up already - let him rest in peace. She was working on the third question - guessing the answer to the third question was more like it - when she heard a small cough beside her. She looked up to find Killian leaning over in his seat, his own homework in front of him.

“That’s the wrong answer,” he said quietly and she raised a brow at him.

“What?”

“Your answer, Mercutio isn’t Romeo’s cousin. Benvolio is. Mercutio is just his friend.” Her eyes widened in surprise. He wasn’t being condescending or self-righteous. He was just… letting her know. Trying to help her, she realised. He looked nervous as he glanced at her and then back at his book. 

“How do you know that?” she asked.

“I’m in your English class,” he said, looking down, ears turning red. Right. And she was a jerk. She felt bad, he looked a little dejected and it was her fault. She hadn’t seen him hanging around with many people, he was usually alone. Like her. She wondered then, a bit sadly, if maybe he wasn’t alone because he wanted to be. Maybe he was alone because he didn’t have anyone - like her. 

“Thanks,” she said with a smile and he gave her a small one in return. “Um, do you know who the hell Tybalt is?” 

His smile widened and he nodded as he leaned over to help her. The teacher told them to knock it off but he insisted that they were trying to help each other complete the same homework. He even argued that it was more character building than just sitting in silence. He was damn lucky that he seemed to have some of that same charm that David had when it came to teachers. The teacher waved them away, letting them continue to work together. 

She finished her homework a lot faster than she would have without him. And she understood the story a little better than she had coming in to detention. She was reminded then that that was where they were and as she looked at Killian, with his red ears and his shy smile and hunched shoulders and his dumb glasses, she had to ask. 

“What did you do to get in here?” His smile faltered just a tad. He scratched behind his ear nervously. 

“I, um, I punched Eric.”

“You what?” she demanded, loud enough that the teacher glared. Of all the things she’d expected - that was not one of them. 

“He was picking on Belle. He threw her book in the snow and made fun of her for liking to read - I mean, who the hell makes fun of someone for reading?” 

Emma felt her lips curling up a bit at his incredulous tone. “What, is Belle your girlfriend or something,” she teased. He frowned at her, looking confused.

“No,” he said. “She’s with that strange Scottish exchange student who’s name I can’t pronounce. But she’s a person and she’s sweet and Eric is an asshole and well, Belle is only about yea big,” he said, bringing his thumb and index finger close together. “I couldn’t do nothing,” he insisted. Emma laughed. 

Two things changed that day. One, Emma understood Shakespeare for the first (and last) time in her life. And two, she decided to make Killian Jones her friend. 

They were inseparable after that. At school  they spent almost all of their time together. In class they sat next to each other, they chatted in the halls between bells, they ate lunch together, and Killian ate dinner at their house regularly. Emma learned fairly quickly that his own home wasn’t a place he liked to be when he could avoid it. 

His mother had died when he was young and his father had raised him and his brother for a few years but finally decided that he couldn’t handle raising his sons on his own so when Killian’s brother went off to university, he had sent him to live with his aunt Cora in Boston. She was, in Killian’s own words, not a very nice woman. 

It was then that Emma realised how similar she and Killian were. They’d both been abandoned and left behind by the people who were supposed to care about them more than anyone. His father had sent him away. Her parents had abandoned her by the side of the road. Both their parents had chosen to give them up. And so she invited him for dinner, because Ruth and David were the best thing that had ever happened to her and she thought he could use a little bit of the Nolans in his life. 

He and David got along like a house on fire. She was surprised considering how David was such a jock, and Killian revealed dorkier and dorkier interests with every day that she knew him. But they were similar, she could see that, in their friendliness and openness and their humor. Killian told her that David reminded him of his brother and that made him miss him less. 

David also quickly became the bane of her existence, insisting that she and Killian were secretly in love with each other and getting on her case to just admit it already so that they could get married and have lots of babies like they both clearly wanted. Emma usually punched him for that. 

She and Killian were friends. That was all. She’d had few real friends in her life and she wasn’t going to screw this one up by developing feelings for him. No matter how cute he looked when his hair fell onto his forehead despite his best efforts to push it back. No matter how much he made her laugh or how much she enjoyed when they watched a movie late on the weekend and he let her fall asleep with her head in his lap. No matter how she thought he looked kind of hot when he got mad every time she beat him at Scrabble - which was all the time. They were friends. 

Emma had tried love once. She was sixteen, just when Ruth and David had first taken her in. There had been a guy. He had been in one of her group homes a while back, before he aged out and they had stayed in touch. They’d reunited when they found themselves both in the same city. 

He was older but she didn’t think that mattered. What was five years when they’d lived so many of the same experiences? Ruth hadn’t approved of the situation but she’d stayed mostly quiet about it - their relationship not strong enough for her to impose her views yet. 

She’d thought Neal was the love of her life. But then, she’d had a pregnancy scare and he’d run away faster than a bat outta hell. She’d never heard from him since. She hadn’t been pregnant, thank god. She was not ready to be a mother. But to see how little she meant to him, how despite all his pretty words and promises he had left her so easily the second he was faced with her being in his life forever… it had hurt. It had destroyed her, really. So she figured love wasn’t really worth it in the end. 

She’d met Killian less than a year later and at first she’d hated him because that easy charisma and confidence and air of a damaged soul had reminded her so strongly of Neal that she’d headed for the hills. But after she’d gotten to know him she realised how different they were, and so she did love him - not in that way, maybe in that way- but in the way she loved David. She trusted him and liked being around him. 

He was her friend - even if she had had that weird dream about him one time… several times… too many times. It wasn’t her fault that she thought about him when she woke up and before she went to sleep. He was usually texting her at that time - what else could she think about? They were friends. He was her best friend and he had been for nearly a year when everything changed. 

“I um, I got in,” he told her when they were sitting at the kitchen table one weekend near the end of their senior year. They’d decided to open their letters together. Emma had applied to a few colleges nearby and the local community college. She had her sights set on becoming a police officer or a social worker. She wasn’t sure which yet. Killian wanted to be an English professor. He’d told her so one of the first days they’d hung out. She’d called him a nerd but gave him credit for at least finding a way to make money off of it. 

“Got in where?” she asked. She’d missed which envelope he’d opened. He had a lot - they were all the big envelopes too. 

“Oxford,” he said, his eyes wide in disbelief and amazement. 

“Holy shit, Killian!” she shouted, standing up and throwing her arms around him, nearly knocking him right off his chair. “That’s amazing! Isn’t that where your brother studies? That’s an amazing school! Oh my god, professor Jones here you come!” 

She was beaming, so proud of him, so happy for him. She knew this was his dream school. But there was something off. He didn’t look as thrilled as she expected him to. Maybe it was just shock but she thought he could at least smile about it. 

“What’s wrong?” she asked, nudging his shoulder. “I thought this was what you wanted?” 

“It is - sort of. It’s just…”

“Just what?”

“It’s in England,” he said and for the first time since he’d opened that letter it hit her. Oh. Oh. That meant… that meant he’d be leaving. Moving hundreds of miles away. 

“I don’t have to go there,” he said, giving her an awkward, embarrassed smile. “I got into Harvard too.” 

“You what?” she practically screamed. She punched his arm. “You weren’t supposed to open letters without me!” 

“It was Harvard, Emma,” he deadpanned and she couldn’t really be mad at him. She wouldn’t have been able to wait either. 

“Where do you want to go?” she asked and he looked at her hesitantly. She tried not to think about the way her heart was racing in her chest. Or about how blue his eyes were. Or about how she might not get to see them every day if he went to Oxford. 

“I don’t know,” he started and she knew he was lying. 

“Yes you do.” He looked away, not meeting her eye. “Killian, I know you hate it here,” he opened his mouth to protest but she cut him off. “I know you like me and David and Belle and some of the others but… I know you miss home. I know you miss your brother. I also know it’s the better program because you’ve told me so. Multiple times.” She held her breath for a moment, surprised at how much it hurt to encourage him to follow his dream. “Oxford is everything you’ve ever wanted.” 

“Not everything,” he said and she tried to meet his eye. He wouldn’t look at her. 

“What do you mean? What’s missing.” 

“You,” he answered, finally looking at her and her breath caught in her throat. Not just at his words, but at the way he was looking at her, like he’d been holding something back a long time and now the floodgates had opened and it was rushing out, plain on his face. “Oxford doesn’t have you,” he said. 

“If I stay here,” he continued, “we could go to school in the same city. We could keep hanging out between classes and on the weekends - we could even get a flat together!” he said a little excitedly and Emma’s chest hurt because she wanted all of those things, so badly. But she couldn’t have them. She couldn’t let him choose her over his future. They were friends. They were seventeen. He would regret it and resent her for the rest of his life. 

“But Oxford is your dream, everything you said you wanted,” she reminded him. “Oxford is where your family is, your brother and your old friends.” Her argument sounded weak to her own ears. 

“Maybe I have other dreams, other things I want more,” he said, looking at her that way again. It scared her. 

“What dreams,” she asked, barely whispering. 

“Emma,” he said, taking her hand and her heart started racing. “Emma you have to know, there’s no way you couldn’t. The whole school knows, your brother knows.” Her breath was coming quickly now, all of her senses on high alert and her blood rushing in her ears as he leaned in.

He pressed his lips to hers, tentatively, nervously, but with a passion that Killian always had for anything he did, anything he cared about. She shouldn’t let him kiss her, she thought. She couldn’t. She couldn’t because she wanted him to and if she wanted that then she had to admit to everything she wanted, to how much she wanted him. 

Of course she knew. She’d always known and… he knew too. But this was his life. His future. She couldn't let him throw it away for her. She loved him, regardless of which way, and so she had to let him go. So she did let him kiss her, for a moment, let her lips slide over his own, let herself enjoy how natural it felt, how right it felt - because she knew she’d never get to again. She pulled away first. 

“Killian -” she started and he must have heard it in her voice because he raised his hand, cupped her cheek.

“No,” he said, pressing his forehead to hers. His words were frantic, desperate, like he was trying to hold on to something he knew was slipping away. “I love you, Emma. Ask me not to go. Ask me to stay.” 

She couldn’t. She couldn’t ask him that. It was selfish and she couldn’t let him give up his dreams for her. She wasn’t worth it. She knew he wouldn’t listen, wouldn’t let her convince him to leave just like that. She’d have to hurt him - for his own sake. And it would hurt her just as much. 

“I can’t,” she said and she felt his hand tighten slightly in her hair. She pulled back. “Killian. Don’t stay for me. Whatever it is you feel for me… I don’t,” she lied. “I’m sorry. But you can’t stay in Boston for me. Not if you’re staying because you hope something will happen because… it’s never going to happen.”

She felt him tense. His hand still in her hair, her hand still clasped in his. Then he pulled back all at once, looked down, and then back at her. He was hurt, but there was guilt there too. 

“I’m sorry,” he said. “Emma, I shouldn’t have…”

“It’s fine.”

“Will you still be my friend?” he asked. “Even after…”

“Yes,” she promised. 

“You really want me to go?” he asked. She nodded, hoped he didn’t see the tears she was struggling to hold off. 

“Yeah. I really want you to go,” she said. 

When Killian went home that night, earlier than usual, Emma let herself cry. 

Killian left in the summer. Their goodbye was awkward, as had most of their interactions been since his confession. They’d tried not to make it awkward, to go back to how they’d been but now he had this huge vulnerability hanging between them and she had this huge lie hanging between them. It tore at the fabric that made them what they were, that made their friendship what it had been. It stained it. 

“Keep in touch,” she said as she hugged him outside his aunt’s house, the cab waiting behind them. 

“Aye,” he promised. He got in the cab and David’s arm was around her suddenly. 

“You okay?” he asked. 

“Fine,” she lied again. She was getting good at it. 

***

They were still sort of friends, for the first year they kept in touch - really made an effort. Killian told her about the residence and the people he had met and his professors and Emma told him about her forensics courses. She’d decided on becoming a police officer - but she wanted to be a detective. David was in the same program. It was nice to do it with someone else. 

But slowly, unavoidably, life got in the way. The phone calls were few and farther between, he didn’t have the money to go to Boston for Thanksgiving and she didn’t have the money to go to England for Christmas. Plans were broken, texts went unanswered, new friends were made, new interests developed and slowly, they drifted. 

It wasn’t anyone’s fault. It was just one of those sad, unavoidable realities of life. Only, he and David still talked, still texted and emailed and spoke on the phone. So maybe it wasn’t so unavoidable. Maybe they’d both needed it. 

She still had him on Facebook, still checked in on his profile despite the years that passed, trying to stay aware of the things that were happening in his life. She learned about his brother’s death from David. She sent him a card with her condolences but she didn’t go to the funeral. It had been three years since he left, two since they’d spoken. He probably wouldn’t have wanted her there anyway. He hadn’t come down for David and Mary Margaret’s wedding a year later, despite having known both of them since high school. He’d had exams and had sent his apologies and a gift by mail. 

She saw online that he was in a long-term relationship, someone called Milah, a pretty dark haired woman who looked a few years older than him, a professor at his school she discovered after a little bit of snooping. He was with her for two years during which Emma was accosted with pictures of the two of them, until finally, one day they just stopped. She wondered what had happened there. 

She smiled when she learned that he got his PhD. He’d posted a picture of himself with a beer in one hand and his diploma in the other. He’d captioned it ‘that’s DOCTOR Killian Jones to you’. She hit the like button. He changed his job status to ‘employed’ at one of the smaller nearby colleges shortly after and she was proud of him. He’d done it. He’d gotten everything he wanted. It had taken ten years, but he was exactly who he’d hoped to be. 

So was she. She had made detective a few years ago, alongside David. They were even allowed to be partners since technically they weren’t related. She was happy, she had a job she loved, a nice apartment that was all her own, good friends, family… but she still checked his Facebook. She still spent evenings sometimes with a glass of wine looking up the boy who had told her he loved her when she was seventeen. 

She and David were sitting in their patrol car, staking out a coffee shop of all places that they’d been told their perp liked to use to make his drops, when he told her Killian was moving back. 

“What?” she demanded, her voice practically squeaking. 

“He got a job at Harvard,” David said dismissively, as though he hadn’t just turned her world upside down. “He’s got a one year teaching contract. I guess they liked the idea of a Brit teaching British lit,” he smirked a little at his own joke. 

Emma was reeling. She wasn’t prepared for this. She didn’t know how to handle the guy that she’d loved in high school and then stalked on Facebook for ten years suddenly coming back into her life. 

“You okay?” David asked, looking at her strangely. 

“Fine,” she said quickly and he rolled his eyes, not buying it. 

“Whatever,” he said, picking his battles. “We’re having a party at our house to welcome him home,” he told her. “You should come.” Emma forgot sometimes that David and Killian were still friends, even after all these years. He and Mary Margaret had even taken the time to visit him when they’d gone to Europe for their anniversary last year.

“Maybe,” she said dismissively. 

“He still asks about you, you know,” David said after a moment. Emma stayed silent, pretending to look through her binoculars at the front door of the cafe. Pretending her heart wasn’t racing in her chest at the idea of seeing the man whose heart she’d broken a decade ago. 

She’d debated not going to the party. Had walked to her front door and back into her kitchen a few times, had hesitated at her car, but she’d finally told herself to snap out of it. It had been ten years ago. They’d been teenagers. He was surely over it by now and she should be too. So she went. 

She hadn’t been prepared. She thought she was but when she walked in and saw him standing with David and Mary Margaret, smiling at something one of them was saying… it was brutal. It was brutal because he was different. She’d expected him to be different of course, but not like this. 

His smile didn’t reach his eyes. He looked sadder and older. He held himself more confidently than he had in high school, but something about it told her it was a facade. Maybe she just knew him, she thought. But she didn’t anymore, did she, she was reminded. Her heart stopped when he looked over, met her eyes. He smiled a little but it wasn’t the easy smile she’d loved so much. He raised his bottle at her and she gave an awkward wave. 

“Long time no see, stranger,” he said later, coming up behind her to say hello and honestly scaring the absolute shit out of her.

“Jesus, Killian,” she said, hand to her chest. “Don’t you know not to sneak up on a cop like that?”

He smiled, that teasing smile she remembered. “I think I could take David if we’re honest.” She laughed. “I heard you made detective,” he said. “Congratulations.” 

“Thanks. I hear you’re finally Professor Jones.”

“Aye. It seems we both got what we wanted in the end,” he said and there was a bit of sadness in the way he said it, the kind that she could tell was unintentional. 

“So,” she started awkwardly when the silence dragged on. “How have you been?”

“Good, good,” he said. “You?” This was brutal. They continued the small talk for a while. She missed how easy things used to be between them. She missed all the stupid, fun things they did when they were kids and they didn’t have all this baggage hanging between them. 

“You know what I miss?” she said out loud and he raised a brow at her. 

“No, Swan, what do you miss?” 

“I miss when we used to steal Ruth’s whiskey and climb up onto the roof and drink it there,” she smiled, remembering how many long, slightly drunken conversations they’d had as kids on the roof of Ruth’s house. 

Killian smiled, fondly and then a little mischievously. He leaned in a little and Emma couldn’t help but notice the way his face had changed. His jaw was sharper, some of the roundness of his cheeks having faded with age, and he’d grown into his nose. He was sporting a short beard now too, something he’d always wanted to complete his professor look but hadn’t been able to grow. He dressed better too, no more jeans and band tshirts. Now he wore… well, jeans and a tshirt but nicer ones with a jacket and boots instead of converse. It was pretty unfair, Emma thought, that he'd gotten better looking with age. He’d been good-looking enough to begin with. 

“I think I spy a bottle of whiskey in the kitchen there,” he hinted and Emma smirked. 

“This place does have a roof,” she said, matching his tone. 

“I’ll get the bottle, you distract Dave,” he said, winking - well, trying to. He’d never mastered that one and it made her smile a bit to see that some things hadn’t changed. 

They successfully managed to steal the bottle and hurry their way up to the guest room that Emma knew had a window they could walk out onto the roof from. They sat there, knees pulled up, passing the bottle between them as they looked out at the slowly darkening sky. Emma let the liquor warm her, let it make her a little looser, a little braver. 

“How are you really, Killian?” she asked eventually. He sighed, reaching for the bottle and taking a sip. 

“Tired,” he said. “It’s been a rough few years.” 

“I saw, about your brother,” she said. “I’m sorry.” 

He nodded. “Thank you. I’ve learned to live with it.”

“There was a woman too,” she said, not quick enough to catch the words before they slipped out. He raised an eyebrow at her teasingly.

“Been stalking my facebook, have you, Swan?”

She shrugged, deciding to be honest. “Only a little.” He looked surprised at her confession, a small smile breaking out on his face. 

“Aye, there was a woman,” he said and she wanted to roll her eyes at the fact that he sounded like some old dandy poet, lamenting over a lost love. “Milah. She went back to her husband.” Emma’s eyes shot up to her hairline. Husband? Wow. That was not what she’d expected. “There was a child involved,” he said, not turning to see her surprised look. “It was for the best.” 

He didn’t sound like he totally believed what he said, but he sounded like he’d made peace with it. Emma felt for him. His life had continued on the way it had been when they met. He’d lost more people, been left behind by more people he cared about, loved. She’d managed to avoid that. But she hadn’t let herself love anyone new. Not since him. 

“And what about you?” he asked, turning to hand her back the bottle. “What great loves have you lived and lost? Or is there a great love now?” he asked with a cheeky smile. She laughed.

“Nah, not for me,” she said. “My love affairs usually only last until the next morning.” He huffed out a laugh as she took another drink from the bottle. 

“Ah, you’ll find it someday,” he said. “One day there will be a man that you can’t dream of living without and that one will last a long time.”

“Two nights?” she joked and he laughed again. His laugh was the same, she thought with a small smile. 

“Aye, two nights.” 

They sat in silence for a while, continuing to share the bottle and Emma decided to blame that for what she said next. “I’ve missed you,” she told him and he turned his head to face her, away from the stars they’d been gazing up at. 

“I’ve missed you too, Swan,” he told her. He lay back, stretched his arm out and she took the invitation, snuggled up next to him like they had when they were teenagers watching scary movies and she lay her head on his shoulder. 

They stayed out there for another hour before David came to find them, scolding Killian for sneaking out of his own party. But he smiled at them as they climbed back through the window and Emma knew he was happy they’d found their way back to each other - that they were finding their way back to the friendship she’d once valued more than anything.

The next night, Emma invited him out for a drink with her and some of her friends from college. He’d made a comment about going out two nights in a row and she’d mocked him for being an old man - ‘I’m sorry, has it been ten years or fifty since we last saw each other?’ - and he agreed to join her. 

Emma was surprised, tough not really, at how well he fit in with her friends. They all loved him, loved his stories from teaching and the fact that he had dirt on Emma from before any of them knew her. He and Will and Robin hit it off immediately and she figured it was probably a brit thing. They spent over an hour talking about soccer. 

He fit in well here. Emma tried not to think about the fact that he fit so well into her life. Or about how much she liked that he fit there, how much she’d missed having him there. She also, really tried to ignore the way that his shirt clung to his biceps. He hadn’t had those in high school. It was difficult when Ruby seemed so intent on pointing it out. Ruby was being herself, pretending to be more salacious than she really was for a laugh, making comments about how she could just spread him on a cracker, when she looked at Emma and her face changed. 

“Oh,” she said and Emma didn’t like the knowing tone of her voice.

“What?” Emma asked, realising that her arms were crossed over her chest. She let them fall, tried to strike a more casual pose. 

“I didn’t realise… you like him,” she said with a sly smile. Emma scoffed.

“We’re friends,” she said flatly. 

“Mhm,” Ruby smirked. “You don’t look at me like that,” she pointed out. “Or Will, or Robin, or even Graham.” 

“Shut up,” Emma said, crossing her arms again as Killian looked over and she accidentally, automatically smiled at him. Ruby only laughed. 

They were friends. They’d only just started being friends again. She wasn’t going to ruin it now. She’d been the one to ensure that they would always, only be friends. ‘It’s never going to happen’, she’d told him. She’d made her bed. Now she had to lie in it - alone. 

She still couldn’t help wondering though if he still kissed the same way. She’d only kissed him once but she’d had yet to have another that lived up to it. And he’d been a teenager then, she was pretty sure she was the second girl he’d ever kissed. She wondered what it would be like now. 

She pushed the thought away. She’d thrown that possibility out the window a long time ago. She’d done it for his own good. And look who he was now, a professor, he had a goddamn PhD. He’d gotten everything he wanted. So why did he look so sad most of the time? Why was she so sad most of the time? She hadn’t noticed that she was before - it had only been since he came back and she had become aware of the gaping hole where something had been missing from her life. 

Having him back helped a bit. Like a bandaid over an open wound. She just hoped that the awkwardness would fade and they would find their way back to the friendship she had mourned for so long, had never really gotten over. She hoped he would let her earn it back. She looked at him laughing at something Robin said and she realised that regardless of time, her life was a little better with him in it. 

The awkwardness did fade. It wasn’t instant and it wasn’t necessarily easy - there was a lot between them, a lot of years and disappointments and broken trust, but soon, they found their way back to what they’d had as kids. It wasn’t long before they were spending evenings in each other's apartments, curling up on the couch and watching bad movies. She found herself smiling a lot throughout the day when he would text her a funny message or a stupid meme.

He was there for Christmas, only the second they’d gotten to celebrate together. They’d both spent the night at David and Mary Margaret’s and Emma had only been disappointed for a second that there were two guest rooms. She’d been looking forward to staying up late talking with him and laughing… and flirting. She’d noticed that there had been a bit more flirting, more than there used to be. On second thought, having to share a bed might not have been a good thing. Not if she wanted to keep him as a friend. She bought him a tweed jacket with leather patches on the shoulders that year. It was meant to be a joke but he’d worn it every day for a month. 

He was there for New Years and Emma felt her heart skip a beat when he kissed her at midnight. It was a small thing, a peck on the lips, barely a second, and he’d smiled at her in a way that made her feel that she shouldn’t read into it - no matter how much she wanted to. It was just a European thing, she insisted, weird boundaries. 

There had been a moment, once, when they’d been sitting on her couch in her apartment, watching another terrible movie. Nothing had happened, nothing specifically, but suddenly she found herself looking at him and he was watching her too, something heavy hanging in the air between them. 

Their hands were close and he moved his little finger, brushed it over hers and it made her breath stop. It was ridiculous, considering her legs were thrown over his and they were already sitting so close, but her breath stopped anyway. It was the way he was looking at her, the uncertainty and the affection and just a tiny bit of longing - there was no other word for it. She recognized it because she’d felt it every day since he’d come home - every day since he’d left ten years ago. 

His fingers had continued, collecting more of hers and slowly intertwining them. She wanted to kiss him. She wanted him to kiss her. She was pretty sure that he would for a moment. He held their hands up between them, looked at them and then at her, pulled her a little closer. And then a loud noise had come from the TV and he’d jumped, dropping her hands and scratching at his ear. They didn’t bring it up again. 

He was there for St Patty’s Day and Easter and the Fourth of July and birthdays, and before she knew it a year had passed. Well, nearly a year, eleven months to be exact. She knew that because it was August and he was complaining about having to go back to teaching the ‘little entitled shit’s’ as he called them. 

“Weren't you one of those students a few years ago?” she reminded him, flicking at his ear as she walked around him into her kitchen to grab them a snack. He was sitting on her sofa a few feet away. Her apartment was small, but it was cozy.

“I was a little shit,” he allowed, batting at her hand. “But I was never entitled. It’s the entiledness that really gets to me.”

“I don’t think that’s a word,” she taunted, as she put the popcorn in the microwave and turned it on. 

He turned, throwing his arm over the back of the couch and looking over his shoulder at her. “You really want to question an English Literature professor?” 

“Being a professor doesn’t mean you get to make up words,” she told him. “Besides, I still beat you in Scrabble so I’m pretty sure I’m the expert.” 

He scoffed, hopping over the back of the couch and joining her in the kitchen. “Scrabble is a game of luck, nothing more,” he told her. “You can’t make words if you don’t get the right letters.” 

“Sounds like something a loser would say,” she shrugged. He looked at her in shock and Emma saw the glint in his eye a second before he moved. “Don’t,” she tried to warn him but he was too fast. He grabbed her and the idiot started tickling her, actually tickling her like he was seven years old. 

“Admit I have a superior mastery of the English language,” he demanded. She shrieked as she laughed, her sides burning, cursing him. He had her trapped against his body, his arm wrapped around her waist, pinning her back to his chest.

“Never!” she saw her opportunity and she took it. She grabbed his arm and spun him around, managed to pin him against the fridge, her arm braced against his chest, holding one of his wrists, she held the other down at his side. 

“Woah,” he said, eyes wide. 

“I keep telling you not to mess with cops,” she pointed out. 

“That was kind of hot,” he admitted, looking more impressed than turned on really. But that was enough for Emma to realise that she had him pushed up against the fridge, her whole body pressed to his. She could feel her face warming, could feel all of her skin warming where she touched his. Oh. She saw it in his eyes when he noticed too. 

She let him go, moved to step back but he caught her, putting his hand on her lower back and pulling her back in. Her heart rate picked up as he pressed her against him, that look in his eyes he’d had that night on her couch back again. He licked his bottom lip and Emma’s eyes darted down to it immediately. 

She saw the way his expression changed a little when she did, curiosity there as he cocked his head, looking her over. He seemed unable to settle on a single part of her face until he stopped at her lips. His own parted, his chin tilting slightly, drawing closer and she couldn’t think of anything except the heat of him against her and her heart running a marathon in her chest. She could feel his breath on her face and that he looked so damn handsome and she just really, really wanted him to kiss her. 

The microwave beeped and Emma cursed the shitty timing that seemed to keep ripping them apart anytime she was given the smallest bit of hope that there could be something more, that they could be something more. Because that was what she wanted. She’d stopped denying it that night on her couch. 

She wanted Killian. She loved Killian. She had since she was seventeen years old. She’d thought it would go away, had almost believed it had at one point. But then he’d come back into her life and that part of her that had been on mute, on pause but never truly gone had reared its head, made sure she knew that she was still, completely and hopelessly in love with the boy she’d met in detention. 

Killian released her, cleared his throat and she stepped back. She held back her sigh, her disappointment. She couldn’t tell him. Not now. Not after all they went through, not now that they were back to who they’d been. She’d turned him down ten years ago. She’d broken his heart. To tell him now that she loved him, that she’d always loved him... She feared his reaction, feared his rejection. 

“I have to tell you something.” He said to her back. She was pouring popcorn into a bowl. 

“If it’s that you don’t want Milkduds in your popcorn you’re shit outta luck,” she said, trying to lighten the heavy mood between them. 

“No, well, yes, but that’s not what I wanted to tell you.” She turned around, recognizing the serious tone of his voice. She leaned back against the counter, waiting for him to say whatever he needed to say. “I’ve been offered a job,” he told her. 

“Killian that’s amazing!” she started but he stopped her. 

“It’s at Oxford.” She felt her heart drop into her stomach. No. Not again. She’d only just gotten him back. “A former professor of mine, Nemo, he pulled some strings when one of the faculty announced her retirement. He says the job is mine if I can get there for the fall semester.” 

It took Emma a moment to speak, trying to process what he was saying, trying to cope with the way it was ripping out her heart. “What about Harvard?” she asked, a little hopefully. 

He scratched that spot behind his ear like he always did when he was nervous. “That position is still up in the air. They’re still reviewing my candidacy.” 

She didn’t say anything, not for a long time. She couldn’t think of what to say. She felt like she was seventeen again, having the exact same conversation they’d had then. Please don’t go, she wanted to beg. Don’t leave. Stay here with me. Be with me. Choose me. But he’d chosen her once before. He’d chosen her and she’d practically thrown it back in his face. 

“It’s a pretty great opportunity,” he continued. “Rare too. It usually takes years to get a position like that.” She could hear him speaking, was aware that he was talking to her, but she couldn’t hear him over the thoughts that were rolling around in her head. She couldn’t lose him again. Not like last time. Don’t go. Don’t go. Don’t go. 

“The English program there is renowned and-”

“Don’t go.” 

He froze. “What?” 

Shit. Shit, she’d said it out loud. He was looking at her with disbelief and shock and maybe a tiny bit of hope, but maybe she’d imagined that. Well, it was too late now to take it back. 

“Don’t go,” she repeated, stronger this time. She watched the emotions playing over his face, so many that she couldn’t track all of them. But the last one was anger, a desperate kind. 

“What do you mean don’t go?” he reeled on her. “How - How can you ask me that? After all these years?” 

“I know,” she said, hanging her head. “I’m sorry but I just,” she took a deep breath. “I let you leave once and it was the worst mistake I ever made. I was in love with you and when you left I lost you and... Don’t go.” His eyes widened in shock, his jaw dropping. If this moment hadn’t been so serious it would have been almost comical.

“You were in love with me?” he demanded, disbelief clear in his voice. He stepped forward. “Why didn’t you tell me that ten years ago? Why did you push me away?” His voice cracked a little. “I was in love with you, Emma. I’d have done anything for you and you - You broke my heart.” 

“I know,” she could feel tears burning her eyes. “I thought it was the right thing to do. I thought that if you stayed you’d resent me, that you’d hate me eventually. I wanted you to get everything you wanted.”

“You were what I wanted!” he practically shouted at her. She flinched a little. “I wanted to be with you but you turned me down. And then you cut me out of your life.”

“I didn’t-”

“You did, Emma. You stopped answering my calls, my texts, my emails. You didn’t come to the funeral…” She hung her head again. “And now, now we’re finally speaking again, finally back in each other’s lives, finally friends again and now you say you loved me? Now you ask me to stay?”

“Are you not anymore?” she asked and he looked at her in confusion. “In love with me," she clarified. She shouldn’t be asking him. She knew she wouldn’t like the answer. Just because her feelings hadn’t changed in ten years didn’t mean his wouldn’t. He tensed, stood up straighter.

“Are you?” he demanded. 

Emma bit her lip. She was. She was as in love with him now as she was at seventeen but it was different now. She was an adult, she understood the difference between love and infatuation, knew how they were different. Her love had grown from missing him for a decade, had grown more from being with him this last year. It was all consuming, all she thought about. All she wanted was him, if he turned her down now… she didn’t know if she’d recover. 

“Emma, how can you ask me to stay if you can’t even tell me how you feel? What are you asking me to stay for?” She didn’t have an answer. She just stared at her feet. He waited for a while, and she heard as his breath slowed and became a heavy sigh. “I should go,” he said, walking back over to the couch to grab his jacket. 

He was at the door when the panic seized her. The dread and the fear that he was leaving, that he was walking out of her life again, that it was her fault again, that she would surely lose him for good this time, overwhelmed her, reared its head and took over. What are you asking me to stay for? he’d asked. He hadn’t answered her question, hadn’t told her he didn’t love her. He’d just wanted a reason. She’d give him a reason if it meant he would stay. He’d been the one to put his heart on the line last time. Now it was her turn.

“Don’t go,” she said again and he stopped with his hand on the doorknob. “Don’t go. Don’t leave the apartment. Don’t go back to England. Don’t leave again. Please,” she begged.

He didn’t turn around but she heard him speak. “Why not?” 

“Because I love you,” she nearly shouted at him. “Okay? I’ve been in love with you since I was seventeen and I thought I could get over it but I can’t. I lost you once and I can’t lose you again so please,” she paused, a small sob leaving her. He turned around finally, walked back over to where she still stood against the counter. 

“Please just don’t go,” she said again, quieter this time. “I should have said it then but I’m saying it now. I’m being selfish and asking you to pass on your amazing opportunity. I’m asking you to choose me and be with me instead.”

He took her chin between his thumb and his finger dragged her gaze up from where it had been staring at her feet, met her eyes and her heart jumped at the softness there, the anger from earlier gone. “I’ll stay,” he said and she thought her knees would give out with the force of the relief, the hope hitting her all at once.

“What about your job?” she said hesitantly. Shut up, Emma. You got what you wanted. But she still cared - about his success and his dreams, even as she asked him to give them up.

“Fuck my job,” he said before his hand moved to her cheek and he slid his mouth over hers. Emma wanted to cry as she felt his lips move over her own. He wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close, slanting his mouth over hers and she opened beneath him, let him explore her with lips and tongue, and his hands on her body. 

Her hands came up around his neck, tangling in his hair and dragging him closer, pressing herself against him until here was no room left between them at all. He backed her against the counter and she didn’t care even as she felt the hard ridge digging into her back. He groaned when she rolled her hips against the hard ridge digging into her belly. 

“Wait, wait,” he said, breath heavy and ragged as he pulled his lips away from hers.

“What?” she asked, suddenly nervous. That had been the best moment in her entire life and now she feared it would come crashing down, that he’d changed his mind. 

“I forgot to tell you that I love you too,” he said, sounding panicked. She looked at him in disbelief and in that moment he was exactly the boy she’d fallen in love with, awkward and sweet and nervous and just so stupid for such a smart person. “I love you,” he said. “I have for a decade. It never stopped for me either.” Whatever quip she had planned died on her tongue at the sincerity in his voice and on his face. 

She smiled before pulling his lips back to hers, standing on her tiptoes so that she could kiss him properly, the way she’d wanted to for ten years and hadn’t been able to. He kissed her back just as eagerly, lips and teeth and tongue driving her nearly as mad as his hands, which were everywhere at once, stoking the fire that had been burning inside of her since she’d pinned him against the fridge. 

“You’ve gotten better at this,” she teased when they pulled back a moment to catch their breath. He gave her a truly wicked grin. 

“I’ve gotten better at a great many things,” he promised, and she knew where he was going with it, was definitely on board with his plan… but she couldn’t help herself.

“Not Scrabble…” 

He bent down then, grabbing her around the knees and hoisting her up over his shoulder. She shrieked, laughing as he carried her the short distance to her bedroom, dropping her unceremoniously on the mattress. He was such a sore loser. 

He looked at her for a moment, standing at the edge of the bed before leaning down over her, bracing his hands on either side of her head, and lowering his face to hers so their lips nearly brushed as he spoke.

“Not Scrabble,” he conceded before that smile came back. “But a great many things.” 

[theastrophilearchitect]

February 2021 wrap-up.

Every book, audiobook, tv show and movie I consumed in February.

The phrase ‘wrap-up’ is so boring. I want to talk about books, TV shows and movies, so I can’t even call it a ‘reading wrap-up’, however pleasingly alliterative that sounds despite the fact that ‘wrap’ actually begins with a W. One of my favourite YouTubers, polandbananasBOOKS (that capitalisation is loud) calls her wrap-ups ‘Stories I Ate This Month’ which I love, but using exactly that seems wrong. I genuinely debated calling this ‘My Media Diet’, but the word ‘diet’ has so many negative connotations to me, so I dropped that. Besides ‘wrap-up’ all in lowercase followed by a full stop is aesthetically pleasing.

The Hunger Games and Catching Fire by Suzanne Collins (audiobook) I’ve read this series countless times. I read the series first time through six years ago, and, after finishing it, I just kept rereading it during silent reading time at school, so God only knows how many times I’ve read it at this point. This is actually the second time I’ve listened to this audiobook, and I still, of course, love it. When I first read it, this book stuck with me. It was the first teen book I ever read and, most unfortunately, put me into a dystopian phase. However, we got over that. I’m good now. I promise.

You know what this is about, but here it is anyway: in a dystopian future (of literally just North America, it never mentions what’s happening anywhere else), a country called Panem (literally the whole of North America) is divided into the luxurious, utopian Capitol, and thirteen districts, all of which gather or produce something for the Capitol. Some of the districts live in poverty, while others are afforded some luxuries but nowhere near those of the Capitol. It never really explains how this system came to be, but then there was a rebellion against the Capitol in which District Thirteen was destroyed, and every year two teenagers from each district are chosen to compete in the Hunger Games, where twenty-four tributes are put in an arena together to fight to the death, and the last person standing emerges victorious. It feels so strange to talk about the basic premise of this book without going into the rest of the trilogy, but I’ll leave it here.

I hate how the media washes this book out and plays it off as just another love triangle, which it barely even is. It has such an important message about society, and the fact that the media does that just proves how accurate it is. I can’t believe when I first read it I was actually Team Gale, but in truth I think that was just because I liked Liam Hemsworth better than Josh Hutcherson, which I still do, but not the point. Anyway, the narrator is excellent.

I’m not giving these booksa rating, both because it’s a reread and I like to base ratings off my initial opinion, and because the first time I read this book I was literally a small child, and part of my love is the nostalgia.

The Invisible Life of Addie LaRue by VE Schwab

This was the first book I read with my eyes this month, and I ended up getting the ebook because it was just so much cheaper than getting a physical copy - I may have invested if I loved the UK cover as much as the US, I’m ashamed to say (above is UK). It was not what I was expecting.

This book was much more contemplation-heavy than I was expecting and actually very light on plot. In 1714, Adeline LaRue runs away from her wedding and prays to Gods, wishing to be free, and is answered by the darkness, who makes her a deal: he grants her immortality, and she promises him her soul when she doesn’t want it anymore. He, wanting her soul, twistedly grants her freedom by cursing her to be forgotten by everyone she ever meets. Three hundred years later, she meets someone who remembers her.

It’s really about life, freedom and time - there’s no direct message or moral, at least not that I picked up on, but it really makes you think. I do enjoy that in a book, but not as much as one where i just love the story. I generally prefer books where I’m rooting for the characters, and it’s full of ships - the kind of stories you would write fanfiction about, but this is the kind of book that I think will stick with me. I take issue with how cliché the ending was, though.

Anyway, I’m not actually sure how I want to rate this. As a British teenager, I’m not actually that familiar with lettered ratings, and I don’t really want to use stars, but I think I’m going to suck it up. Maybe I’ll think of something else eventually.

Rating: 4.5 stars - books that get five stars from me are generally based on the enjoyment factor, but this book deserved more than four.

Arrow Season 1

I’ve been semi-interested in the Arrowverse/DC TV universe for a while, and finally took the opportunity to delve in. This show is so insanely CW - everyone has that look, it has that tone and it takes itself way too seriously. By the 23rd time you’re hearing it, the recap becomes painful to listen to.

This was the first show in DC’s saga - the show picks up as Oliver Queen returns home from being stranded on an island for five years after a cruise ship sank. When the ship went down, his billionaire father sacrificed himself to save Oliver, and left him with a list of ‘the people poisoning [his] city’. Upon returning home, Oliver becomes the vigilante who will eventually become known as ‘Arrow’ or ‘Green Arrow’ (currently unclear; I’m not a comic book person) but is currently dubbed just ‘the Hood’ or ‘the vigilante’, with the goal of taking down the people on the list. It’s very intense.

It took me about ten episodes to actually get invested - which is nearly seven hours watch time - but, ultimately, I’m glad that I did. Aside from the excessive CW-ness of this show, I love the characters and I want to see what happens.

Still, why is everyone so obsesses with Laurel? What’s so great about Laurel? I don’t get it. Felicity is 10000% the best character - she’s relatable, cute, and I high-key ship her with Oliver.

This little rant of mine was unintelligible.

Rating: 4 stars

Guardians of the Galaxy

I’m not explaining what this movie is about. Honestly. This was just a rewatch: I’m currently rewatching every MCU movie in chronological order (as in, starting with Captain America: The First Avenger instead of Iron Man). For every TV season I finish, I watch a a movie, and I alternate between movie series, one of which is, at the moment, MCU films. It’s hard for me to briefly explain my weird watching patterns.

I love this movie so much. It was the first really upbeat MCU movie, and I love the characters.

I don’t really have much to say about this, but if you haven’t watched MCU movies, please watch them. Even if you don’t want to, this movie is absolutely worth watching and you don’t need to watch any other MCU movies for context.

I Am Not Okay With This Season 1

I’m reeling from this show. I literally can’t tell whether or not this is getting a second season; it seems like it was meant to, but then got cancelled, and now I can’t tell.

This show follows a high school student named Sydney. She’s your typical outcast, and isn’t interested in getting ‘in’ - she’s best friends with a girl named Dina; they both came to their school around the same time and ended up friends, though Dina is your typical pretty girl. Then Syd discovers she has powers that operate based on her emotions, and I really don’t want to say anything else. But it does star Sophia Lillis and Wyatt Oleff, who you likely know as two of the kids in IT (the clown movie, not like computing).

Honestly, episodes 1-6 were very chill, more focused on teenage life than her powers, then episode 7 brought it. Up until the end of episode 7, I enjoyed the show and would be happy to watch a second season, but I wasn’t particularly invested or excited by it. Then episode 7. I would love a second season of this show. I have to at least know where the writers were going with it.

This show came out last year, and I only just got to it, but I can’t believe I haven’t heard anybody talking about it. It’s intense, it’s entertaining, and the first season will only take up about two and a half hours of your time (it’s seven 19-28 minute episodes).

Rating: 4 stars

Blue Lily, Lily Blue and The Raven King by Maggie Stiefvater

I listened to The Raven Cycle audiobooks in 2019, and I’m not sure why because I didn’t even enjoy them that much. I did, however, decide I wanted to read Call Down the Hawk, the first book in the spin-off series, and that meant I had to reread The Raven Cycle since I had paid so little attention to the audiobooks, which I started in January and I love this series. Not what I expected from a reread of a series I paid virtually no attention to, but here we are.

This is book 3 in The Raven Cycle series, book 1 being The Raven Boys, which is a paranormal book in which the protagonist Blue, is the only non-psychic in a family of psychics, and has been told her whole life that if she kisses her true love, she will kill him. Then, on St Somebody’s Eve (Mark’s? I want to say Mark’s but I’m not sure), when she goes with her aunt to see the spirits of the people who will die in the next year, she sees one of the spirits, a boy from Aglionby Academy, the local private school, meaning he is either her true love, or she is the one who kills him, which in her case, could very much be both. Then that boy schedules a reading with her psychic family to help him find an old Welsh king, and there is so much more than that to this glorious series, but I’ll stop here.

I think my main thing in books and general media is the characters. They have to follow some kind of sensible plot, but if I’m not invested in the characters, I can’t get invested in the story. I genuinely don’t think I’ve ever been so in love with a cast of characters, not even in Six of Crows - this story is so character-driven, and I can’t get enough. This was an excellent continuation, and so much happened, but it did feel like its purpose was just to set up the final book, so I didn’t enjoy this one quite as much as the previous two.

Rating: 4 stars

As for The Raven King - this was the last book I read this month, finishing it on the morning of the 27th because I knew I would have very little reading time from mid-afternoon until twenty-four hours later.

In complete honesty, I found the climax of this book to be a little rushed - we spend the whole series aware that Gansey’s looking for Glendower, but it never seems to be more prevalent than just their general investigations as to what the hell is happening. As a result, when it came to that in this book, it felt a little out of the blue (no pun intended).

Regardless, this series so well balances strong characters and strong plot where so many others fail, and I love it.

Rating: 5 stars

Fate: The Winx Saga Season 1

This show is a live-action rated-15 Netflix adaptation of one of my favourite childhood shows, Winx Club. And, honestly, you can tell.

I tried to watch this objectively, instead of complaining about how they cut some of my favourite characters and changed so many (Tecna, Riven, Beatrix, Stella, Brandon etc.). While I was upset about some of the cuts, I can agree that they were best for the story. Where in the original, every fairy had their own unique powers, this adaptation splits it into five elements: fire (Bloom), water (Aisha - on another note, screw Aisha, honestly), air (Beatrix), earth (Terra) and mind (Musa), though Stella still has light powers? Which is never explained?

Anyway, this follows teenage Bloom as she discovers she’s a fairy and goes through her first year at a fairy school called Alfea.

I’m not going to go too deep into this because I have so much to say about this show that i think I’m going to make a whole separate review rather than bore you with it now. 

Quality-wise, this show was mediocre, but enjoyment and nostalgia raise its rating for me because I’m biased.

Rating: 4 stars

Ninth House by Leigh Bardugo

This is both Bardugo’s first adult novel and her first novel not set in the Grishaverse. I read the Grisha trilogy for the first time years ago and didn’t like it that much, but followed that right up with the Six of Crows duology which I loved. I read King of Scars in 2019 when it came out, and started listening to the King of Scars audiobook just before I started reading this in preparation for Rule of Wolves at the end of March.

I loved this. I don’t think I have anything to criticise quality-wise - the characters had depth, there were plot twists and strong subplots, the world was incredibly well built, and the only thing that got me to put this book down was taking a week to start working on my own writing project (post coming soon). Because I took that week completely off reading, this book took me about two weeks total from start to finish, but it was so worth it.

This novel follows Alex Stern, a twenty-year-old whose friends have all been murdered. She was found beside one of them who died of a overdose, with the same drug in her system. But Alex can see ghosts, and, soon after her friends’ deaths, is consequently offered a scholarship to Yale University, on the condition that she works for the ninth House of the Veil to monitor the activities of Yale’s secret societies.

In complete candour, I found this book somewhat convoluted, though most of that was probably mainly my own poor reading comprehension. Regardless, I loved the plot, and am very highly anticipating the eventual release of its as-of-yet unnamed sequel.

Rating: 4.5 stars

Crooked Kingdom by Leigh Bardugo

So I actually finished this audiobook briefly after finishing Blue Lily, Lily Blue, but I’m tacking it on here because I forgot to add it to the list and already explained my Grishaverse experience in my Ninth House comments.

So, yes, I love this duology, and it really opened a new compartment in my writing brain, even though I haven’t really taken advantage of that writing brain until now (again, post coming soon).

King of Scars by Leigh Bardugo

I am realising I’ve read eight books this month, and nearly half of them were by Leigh Bardugo. Which makes sense, considering how much I enjoy her books.

This book is slower-paced than most of hers, but it does follow two (one of which splits again) completely separate storylines, and is still excellent and entertaining.

I listened to this for a recap before Rule of Wolves is released on March 30th.

[bangtanlalaland]

in case we die | kth (m.)

synopsis ↳how could you fall for the living when you’re dead? when all you wanted was to haunt the man that murdered you?

— 1980′s!au

→pairing: serial killer!kim taehyung x spirit!female reader     ↳featuring: bf!kim seokjin

→genre: smut, angst, low key crack

→word count: 10.3k

→contents ⨯ warnings: 10 year age gap (idk if that’s important lolol), spectrophilia (sexual attraction to ghosts), hybristophilia, lots & lots of angst, tiniest bit of fluff, murder (obvi), obsession, hair kink¿ (is that even a thing?), mentions of death, blood here & there, spirits (duh), swearing, dirty talk, masturbation, voyeurism, orgasms, unprotected sex (protect yourselves!), oral (m receiving), deepthroating, cum swallowing, creampie

↳inspired by: Tinashe’s “In Case We Die” mixtape

☞ disclaimer: Please do not take this story 10000% serious. I promise I’m a normal human being with morals. This body of text is for entertainment purposes only. All characters, settings, scenarios, and dialogue are fictitious. Any similarity to events or persons, whether living or dead, is coincidental.

The flash of lightning from the storm and shuddering sound of thunder overtake the gloomy night. The lock clicks as Taehyung pries open the back door of his neighbors’ family-style home. Silently creeping through the kitchen, the lingering scent of a delicious dinner from hours ago fills his nostrils. His senses are peaking, adrenaline is rushing, skin perspiring.

No, this isn’t his first time killing someone. But it’s the first time that he feels things are a bit off. Like he chose the wrong house kind of off. Sweat drops dripping down his forehead, palms are sweating profusely. He knows every single crack and crevice of this house but the feeling is still uneasy.

He stammers in his tracks, thrown off completely. What is the matter? I’ve been doing this for years, he thinks to himself. Is it the fact that he has history with this family? The numerous framed pictures on the wall catch his attention as he stands before the stairs. Or maybe it’s because of you.

He sees the family portrait, with you placed in the middle surrounded by your parents. His heart suddenly drops. The sight of you staring back at him through the photo causes his fists to clench.

Why does he want to kill you? Should he rethink his entire plan? He was 10 years older than you, but had known you and your family for just as long. He wanted you all to himself. Sure you were a young, eighteen-year old, naive, high school senior but he knew it wouldn’t be possible. Especially since you have a boyfriend.

Prom night was a memory he would never forget. Your parents asked him to escort you and your boyfriend in his stationwagon. When he arrived at your home to pick you up, he admired the way your prom dress hugged your figure in the most sexiest way. So much that it made him have wild thoughts about you, leaving him a horny mess at the end of the night.

He remembers storming into his home and locking his bedroom door shut. His fingers run furiously through his black mullet, chest heaving up and down, sweating profusely. Full of rage, frustration, lust, and regret. He unbuckles his belt to drop his pants and briefs all in one go, aching to release his tension.

His member pops straight up, rock hard as he plops on his bed lying on his back. Closing his eyes and picturing you in your prom dress, he wraps his slender fingers around himself and gradually pumps. “Fuck,” he whispers. If only he could rip the material away from your tight bod to expose what he’s been craving for so long. He relishes in the memory of your bouncy, curled hair, filled of volume and basked in the scent of hairspray.

The simple thought of how it would feel to tug your strands between his fingers whilst he penetrates you. He continues to play your voice over and over again in his mind, when you called his name: “Taehyung!” greeting him with open arms, when he arrived at your home. The tantalizing aroma of your being captivated him in that moment. He pumps faster, the sound of your voice echoing through his eardrums.

Lips begin to part, his breathing hitches in the moment. Your face is all he can see. Your voice is all he can hear. Your scent is all he can smell. Your body is what he needs. His member leaks of pre-cum, coating his tip in the liquid as it oozes out. He lets out a breathy moan, calling your name.

The feeling of your skin clinging to his, while he’s on top of you. Both of your bodies scorching and sticking to one another, binded with perspiration. Your moans escaping your lips from under him, inspiring him to pound deeper into you. Your nails scraping his back, your squeals and cries for him are what send him over the edge.

“Taehyung!” you yelp.

He loosens his grip on his throbbing cock, gently stroking up and down. His chest rumbles as a lengthy moan slips from his lips. His lower area tenses up, and his member spasms. He uses his unoccupied hand to grip his bed comforter, twisting and turning the material around as the pleasure washes over his body. The stream of liquid, pooling from his balls to his tip, shoot up in the air and land back on his pelvic area.

“I’m... cumming, fuck.”

The strands of his jet, black hair soaking in sweat and sticking to his forehead. His eyes flutter open, chest heaving up and down, he continues to escape from his orgasmic high. Taehyung stares up into the ceiling, and takes a deep breath.

He props himself up on his elbows to gaze at the cum that’s smothered on his lower half. If only you were there to clean his mess with your mouth, so that he wouldn’t have to waste another tissue to wipe away his jizz and toss it in the trash. He swears, under his breath, at the thought of it.

Then, he’s reminded just how lonely he is. He couldn’t stand seeing you with your boyfriend. Just the thought that someone else got to touch you, kiss you, and worst of all: fuck you. All the things he’d been dying to do to you. He always wished he could snap your boyfriend’s head to end it all. But he knew that wouldn’t solve anything.

He didn’t want to see you hurt, and most importantly he didn’t want you to hate him. Besides, he knew you would never accept him if you found out he’s a serial killer. For years, he became obsessed with the idea of death. He targeted women, because he knew how much more vulnerable they are than men.

That gave him authority and control. In college, he’d done an ample amount of research on life after death, near death experiences, the supposed “afterlife,” and even spectrophilia. There had been a few rare cases of humans having sexual encounters with ghosts.

He also found that if a spirit was not rested, it would linger on Earth within the Spirit World or “Afterlife” as they call it. And based on the research he had done, spirits mostly were not rested in peace because the body itself was murdered.

That was when the idea sparked.

He had finally came to the conclusion that he has to kill you. If he can’t have you in this life, then he could have you in the afterlife. His plan was going to work, and he was going to make sure of it.

Yet another clash of thunder snaps Taehyung out of the pondering thoughts he’s having of his premeditated actions. He shakes his head. Snap out of it! Must not have any second thoughts at this moment. It’s important to stick to the plan. No distractions.

His eyes follow his path ahead of him. He quietly removes his shoes before proceeding further. His light weight causes a slight creak in the stairs, as he mindfully approaches the second level. His eyes dart toward your room, and his heart beats profoundly.

He continues to scan his surroundings, reassuring that no one was around or watching. Being careful in case someone were to awaken. Lightning strikes again, creating a brief flash of light throughout the home. Taehyung silently treads toward your room. He stops in front of your door, inhaling a deep breath.

Taehyung carefully wraps his hand around the door knob, slowly turning it in a counter-clockwise motion. He takes one last breath before pushing the door open gradually. The slight creak in the door startles him, but he’s back at ease when he steps inside your room to find that you’re still sound asleep under your covers.

The door behind him is shut quietly, and he turns around. He shuts his eyes and inhales deeply, taking in the aroma of your room. His right hand slips into the knife pocket attached to his jeans, pulling out the weapon with a needy force, exposing the blade of his bowie knife. He places the knife face down and sneaks it between his chest, inside his corduroy jacket. He continues to stand there simply admiring the view of you in your slumber.

It’s time to put an end to it all.

It’s Sunday in the month of May. You’re home alone with your parents enjoying the remainder of the night. Seated on the couch between your parents, you hear a ding! Your mouth waters at the sound of the microwave beeping. Your buttery popcorn is ready.

You hurriedly skip to the kitchen before the next program on TV comes on. The air from the steamy kernels fills your senses. You quickly grab one of those big, plastic bowls to dump the popcorn in.

“Sweetheart, it’s the news!”

Coming! you respond. You make it back to the living room and plop down on the sofa. The TV stutters a few times, as it did 20 minutes ago. This time your dad gets out of his comfy spot and he does not look happy.

“Goddammit! Nancy, I told you we shouldn’t have bought this from that damn yard sale. You know Tim would sell a lemon for a car if his life depended on it.”

“Oh hush it, Carl. At least we have some kind of entertainment. Right, sweetheart?” your mother asks directing to you.

You nod your head while stuffing your mouth with popcorn. Your dad continues to swear under his breath and pound on the TV with his fist. He fumbles with the antenna and the television gradually comes back to life.

“There we go,” he says, wiping his forehead with the back of his hand and finding his way back to his spot beside you on the sofa.

I repeat. This is John Turner with Channel 4 News. For anyone that is just now tuning in.. Today we have received new information from the local police department on “The Silent Creeper” who has yet striked again.

“Are they still trying to find that crazy man killing all of those women?”

“Last I heard he was about 10 miles from here.”

“10 miles?!”

You can’t hear reporter John at this point, with your parents going back and forth, “Shhh!”

The three of you stare at the TV, in need of answers. Someone hands the reporter a vanilla folder.

“I will now read the statement that the police department has released.”

“To the townspeople, we want to make everyone aware that our team is working diligently to capture the criminal that has continued to terrorize the surrounding areas for the past 3 years, but whom has now reached our town as well. The Silent Creeper was last seen in our town on Friday night.”

You hear your mom gasp. “Oh my God! Friday was prom night!”

“Mom!”

“He assaulted a victim with a deadly weapon and attempted to strangle her with a telephone cord, only to be startled when the cord sparked as the victim was still alive. Realizing that he had not succeeded, he fled the scene. Unfortunately, we had not been able to arrive on scene in time enough to catch him from the time the victim called the station.”

“As each day passes, we are getting closer to putting The Silent Creeper to an end. In addition, we were able to get a brief description from the victim. He is a fair-skinned male standing at about or around 6 feet tall with black hair, medium length. Long enough to touch the base of his neck along with bangs that cover his eyebrows. He is said to have large hands and a slim figure, carrying a knife blade. He is also known to have a hair fetish, collecting samples of head hair from his victims.”

“We ask that everyone locks their doors and windows. Please leave at least one light on in your home that can be visible in the front section of your home, as well as your front porch light. We advise that no one goes out at night unaccompanied. We highly recommend that no one leaves their homes past 10 p.m. whether accompanied or not, until we catch this criminal. Should you have any dire reason to leave your home past those hours, please call the station before doing so.”

“Lastly, we ask that everyone remains calm but stay alert and aware of your surroundings. Please do not answer your doors for anyone late at night, unless you are expecting a visitor. We are currently working on a sketch of the criminal and plan to release it by tomorrow afternoon. Should anyone have any information regarding this case, please give the station a call.”

“Well, there you heard it. Stay safe out there, folks. This is John Turner with Channel 4 News, signing off.”

There’s a brief moment of silence, and the program shuts down. Leaving the TV screen in a color coded background. Your mouth is agape, not believing that the town you grew up in is now not safe. The one place that you called your home, is now a prison.

“He was here?” you slip.

“I don’t think I’ll be able to sleep tonight,” your mother says with a pokerface.

“Honey, don’t worry. Everything is going to be fine,” your father responds almost nonchalantly.

“Don’t worry?! Everything is going to be fine? There is a murderer out on the loose and that could have been OUR daughter! She was out all night for prom with Jin!”

Your head begins to throb with a slight pain, hearing your parents constant bickering. You place the popcorn bowl on the couch and get up to walk towards the stairs, but stop in your tracks and rub your temples with the tips of your fingers.

“Yeah, at the school! That’s why Taehyung escorted them both! At least we are well aware of what the hell is going on in this damn town so we can be prepared!”

“Oh, it’s just so easy for you to brush this off because you are too wrapped up in that... that job of yours to be concerned about your own child’s safety!”

“I don’t have to put up with this! If it makes you feel any better, I do care about Y/N’s safety! She is MY daughter.”

“Well if you care, Carl. Start acting like it!”

You finally crack. “ENOUGH!”

Both of your parents snap towards you.

“Can you both please just stop? It doesn’t make the situation any better with you two arguing.” You pause for a brief moment, recollecting your thoughts.

“Dad, it’s okay if you’re scared. I know your my father and I know you feel obligated to protect me. But I want you to know that I know you’re human. I know you aren’t invincible. And there’s nothing wrong with being scared.”

They both look at each other then drop their heads low.

“Mom, I don’t want you to worry yourself to death. Dad’s right, I was with Jinnie and Taehyung on prom night. And nothing happened. Maybe it’s for a reason. We just have to believe that everything will be okay. At least we know now what we should be aware of and what to do to protect ourselves. I love you both.”

Your dad looks up and walks towards you, with your mother following behind him.

“We love you more, pumpkin.” He states with open arms, embracing you with a hug filled with love. You mother joins the two of you, wrapping her arms around you both.

Meanwhile, Taehyung sits in the dark, at his kitchen table, sipping coffee. He stares into space. Today’s newspaper article sits in front of him on the table, with the headline that reads:

THE SILENT CREEPER STRIKES AGAIN!

He knows he’s fucked. He sips the last swig of his coffee, rises from his seat, and angrily throws the mug at the wall ahead him, the ceramic pieces shattering onto the cold tile.

His fingers find the newspaper, and he tears it apart. Paper pieces landing on the ground. Rage fills his being and he lets out an absurd growl, while pounding on the kitchen cabinets. He runs his hands through his dark mullet, replaying Friday night over and over again in his head.

After coming home that night and releasing his tension, he was alone and he knew it. He needed another rush. Something to get him going. Something to get you off of his mind, because you were all he could think about.

So, what did I do wrong? What is happening to me? What if they catch me? Numerous questions continue to run through his mind. He had been doing this for over 3 years. Why would it all end now?

He's like an expert at this. If he gets caught now, that means all of his work meant nothing. All those times, he had elaborate plans and every one fell through perfectly. So what is the difference now?

He rests his hands on the counter with his arms extended all the way out. Sweat trickles down his forehead as his breathing calms down. The kitchen is filled with silence, leaving a ringing noise in his ears when suddenly it stops as his eyes trail up and through his kitchen window.

The blinds to the window in your room were open, and he could see you. Then it finally hit him, it was like a light-bulb flicked on with an idea in his head. He realizes that he can’t function because of you. You are a distraction. You are ruining his ways. And it is in this moment, Taehyung realizes that he has to kill you tonight.

Before he gets caught for good.

You remember your last night on Earth as if it were yesterday, literally. It wasn’t until you felt an unbearable stinging sensation on your neck that you had awaken from your deep sleep. You felt a warm liquid pooling from your throat, delaying your breathing. Your eyes shot open, and there was Taehyung Kim towering over you. Small spurts of blood shot onto him, covering his cheeks, chin, and forehead.

You couldn’t believe your eyes. It was him. The man you called your neighbor for so many years. Whom you trusted your entire life. You would have never guessed that it was him all along. That he’s The Silent Creeper.

The shine of the moonlight reflected off of his knife, as he held it up. With a hungry force, he plunges the knife into your abdomen. Completely taking your breath away. As much as you tried to fight, you couldn’t.

He had you pinned down with his thighs. You couldn’t move or scream. His large, cold hand covered your mouth to conceal any noises you attempted to make. He removes the blade from you and plunged into you again, causing you to choke. You gather up enough strength to claw at his biceps with your nails, only to fail because of the jacket that conceals his arms.

It was useless.

You knew that it was over. You were going to die. You try opening your mouth to question him. To beg him to stop what he was doing. To probe him as to why he was doing this.

Had I done something wrong? Did I say something wrong? What could cause him to kill me? Why would he want to kill me?

But the last plunge into your tummy makes your hands drop. Noticing this, he drops the knife on the floor and busies himself by cutting a portion of your hair.

Bringing it to his nose to take a lengthy wauf of it, he inhales deeply into his lungs. Your vision blurs as you lose consciousness. You attempt to grab him again, only being able to reach his right cheek. You wanted to scratch his face, to dig into his flesh in hopes that he would makes enough noise to awaken your parents.

But you didn’t have the strength. Unfortunately your hand could only caress him instead. Something you did not want to do. Your hand slowly lost its control as it slid down from his face, to his chest, then to his abdomen, and finally plopped onto his thigh.

Your breathing stopped, but your eyes remained open. You can no longer move, not even a finger. That’s when you knew you were dead. It was strange at first. When you realized you were no longer looking up into his eyes.

Instead, you were watching him from above. Like a birds view.

Where am I? Why am I not lying in bed? I mean, I am still in bed but it’s like I’m floating in the air, staring at my body lying in bed.

You watch Taehyung as he observes your body drenched in a pool of blood, that continues to soak your bed sheet. He simply sits there, tilting his head left and right and caressing your cheek.

“Why couldn’t you just stay out of my way?”

He takes another sniff of your luscious locs in his hand. What does he mean by that? How was I in his way? You attempt to reach out to him but nothing happens. You have no arms, no hands, no fingers. Nothing. You were just there. The fact that you’re dead and can no longer defend yourself, let alone stop him, pissed you off.

“Now look at you. My work here is done.”

His work? What?

He may be “done” with whatever it is he’s talking about, but you weren’t. And you were going to make sure of it. Once you figure out how you can control what’s happening to you. You take a moment to accept what’s already happened.

So why now? You hadn’t even begun to start your life. Graduation was this week, and you couldn’t even make it! And Jin? You can’t imagine how devastated he would be once he finds out you’re dead, murdered actually. Is there anyway you could see him for just one last time?

All you want is to see his gorgeous face light up as his plump, pink lips curl up into the brightest smile that could blind anyone that looks his way. It hurts you to know that you couldn’t even say goodbye. Or just a simple I love you. Just one more time. You needed him, and you know if he could have been there for you to save the day then he would have done so and much more.

Your thoughts are interrupted when you noticed Taehyung lifts himself off of you, planting his feet on the floor of your room. He wipes his forehead with the back of his hand and cracks his neck. What is wrong with him? How could one be so cruel? You always saw him to be such a gentleman. Guess you never really knew him all along.

Taehyung kneels down to grab his knife, and quietly sneaks out of your room. You can’t believe that he manages to escape, without a trace. Without anyone knowing what has happened. Only you knew who killed you. You knew who The Silent Creeper is, and there’s nothing you could do about it.

You can’t stop him. You can’t just call the police station to let them know: “Hey guys! You know that creepy guy that’s been killing all those women? Yeah, The Silent Creeper. He’s actually my neighbor. Oh, how do I know? Because he killed me!”

You’re filled with a grand amount of anguish just thinking about it. Your killer walks free as if nothing has happened, as if he didn’t just stab and slice you to your death. You want to scream, fight, hell maybe even just pound on something. But you can’t. You’re stuck “here,” whatever “here” is.

And you want out. You want to end his life. Just as he ended yours. But you won’t back down, not until he gets what he pays for. Even if it takes to haunt him for the rest of his life.

He will pay.

I’ve got to get out of here. You attempt to walk, knowing that you can’t yet you try anyway. But instead of actually moving, you find a way to float down, so now you’re eye-level with your surroundings - as if you were actually walking. Your essence floats throughout the room. You focus your direction towards your room door and just like that you float straight through it and now you’re on the other side.

You continue to float, making your way to your parents room, just so you could see them one last time. You find them sound asleep. The anguish slowly dissipates, and now there’s an overwhelming feeling of gloom. You didn’t get the chance to say goodbye. Your mother lays there on her side, as you watch her chest heave.

Your father on the right side lies on his back, snoring with his mouth open. You approach your mother closer, and try yet again to touch. Just to see if she could feel your presence. You reach out to her, hopefully that you could feel her and her hair strands rise up into the air. She shifts tosses over in the bed; and you immediately let her strands go, afraid that you might awaken her.

I love you mom. I love you dad.

After leaving your parents room, you guide yourself downstairs and through the front door. Then, the world you see from your perspective is revealed. It’s quiet, cold. Everything just seems blue. And there are others like you. Ghosts, souls, spirits, or whatever you call them. They float through the night. It’s like nothing you’ve ever seen before. It’s almost like another world.

Where am I? Is this where people go when they die? If so, what is “this” called?

Faint whispers echo around you. You can’t quite hear what is being said or who is saying it. Then a sudden voice from behind scares you.

“Hey.”

You’re startled to find a spirit within your path. She was beautiful, but she seemed young. Maybe just as you or younger.

“Hi?”

“My names Katie. And you?”

You continue to observe your surroundings, noticing you both are now the only ghosts in plain sight.

“My name is Y/N. Where exactly am I?”

She clears her throat, attempting to speak.

“Well, you’re in the Spirit World as we call it.”

Your eyes widen. Spirit World? Seriously, what the hell is going on?

“I don’t understand. Why am I here? I mean.. I know that I died, but.. why here? Why do I have to be here?”

She watches you in concern, gathering up the correct words to explain.

“Please, come with me. I will tell you as we float.”

Katie leads you on the way down the road of the town. She explains that souls wander Earth when they haven’t been rested. In your case, your soul was not rested because someone murdered you. She also made it clear that throughout time, you’ll find yourself shifting into different ambiences, usually replaying old memories or high peaks during your previous life; or sometimes shifting due to something deeper - such as a premonition. You also learned that she’s 18, just like you.

“Well, if that’s true then were you murdered?” You question her, curious to know as if any more information would make you grow more at ease.

“Yes, I actually was.” She whispers, barely audible.

“Do you also know who your killer is?” She grows silent. You almost take it as a sign that she wouldn’t answer you.

“I’m sorry. You don’t have to tell me.” You plead, feeling a slight bit of guilt.

“It’s.. it’s okay. It was my mother that murdered me.”

Your jaw drops, and you immediately feel a thousand times worse for even asking.

“Katie.. I-I’m so sorry. I can’t even imagine how you feel. How long has it been?”

“18 years.”

You’re confused as you ask, “18 years? But you said you’re 18?”

“Oh, silly me. I also forgot to mention that in the Spirit World, you don’t age.”

It all makes sense now. Which brings you to yet another question.

“Well, how come you’re still here? I mean, after all those years. I’m sure that we don’t just die to be stuck in the world we once were in, right?”

“That is true, but from meeting others like us, I’ve learned that the reason why souls like mine end up trapped is because our killer is still alive. And in my case, my mother is still alive, even though she’s been captured for her crime many years ago.”

You both re-approach the street where your house sits next to Taehyung’s. Then, immediate thought hits you. What if he gets caught? Then what? I’ll still be stuck here? I don’t want to be here forever. I want peace. Everlasting peace. You attempt to probe Katie with more questions, but as soon as your mouth parts, all you can grasp is that your surroundings are swiftly changing, as if you’re slipping into a different atmosphere.

“Shit, Katie! Everything is changing! What do I do?”

“It’s okay. Remember? It’s totally normal! You’ll be fine. I promise.”

Everything around you dissipates, until there is absolutely nothing left. You watch as your home vanish piece by piece before your eyes. Your mouth flies agape, paired with that feeling of somber again. Your cries can’t be heard, as you helplessly reach out to the place you once called home. The one place you don’t want to leave. Everything you’ve ever felt and experienced was in that house. As the last remaining portion of your home dissolves, you immediately feel yourself being pulled down into a vacuum. It’s pitch black.

No air, no light, no humans, no spirits, just pure blackness. The feeling of a wet substance under you causes you to look down. Water? Your eyes trail up ahead of you, and you’re stunned to find Taehyung yet again. He looked as if he was in a rush. He removed his jacket, flannel, boots, and jeans.

Hurriedly throwing his belongings into the washer. He bends down to grab a box of baking soda, pouring copious amounts on his clothes, and slamming the washer door shut. The atmosphere ascends, slowly piecing itself together. A few blinks later and you realize that you’re in the basement of his home. He rushes up the stairs and slams the basement door shut, locking it. You continue to observe the area.

Your attention is caught by a small area behind you in the corner. You lightly float to the spot and pull the light metal beads that hang from the light which sits above you. The light flicks on, and you’re instantly taken away. It’s an entire wall of newspaper articles about The Silent Creeper and photos of numerous women that were reported missing and/or bodies have been found.

You scan through each report, only to find that all of them had things in common. They were stabbed to death, with patches of their hair missing. You also noticed for each photo he had of every victim, their wads of hair were attached to them.

Are these all of the women he’s killed? If so, then why? What possesses him to commit such horrid acts?

Then you noticed your photo, along with your hair attached to it. Your thoughts are interrupted by a loud thud from above.

Curious to know, you move up the stairs and through the basement door. You float through his home, searching for the source of the noise you heard. You make a slight left turn after passing the kitchen, and gently walk down the hall. You hear faint sounds coming from the room at the end of the hallway.

Ones that sounded like… moans.

The door slightly cracked, you peeked through the small space that granted you access to see. Taehyung plops onto his bed, and you’re startled when you see he’s furiously pumping his erect member.

“Ugh, Y/N.”

You stop dead in your tracks when he mentions your name. Are you kidding me? He kills me just a few minutes ago, and now he’s moaning my name while jacking off?! That’s it! I’ve had enough! That feeling of rage courses throughout your spirit, and you forcefully enter the room he’s in, before thinking of what you are doing.

Taehyung hears a slight creak from the door and feels a gush of wind washing through him. His eyes immediately snap open and he flinches. Goosebumps appear on his arms. He stares into the space where the door is and looks like he’s seen a ghost, literally. He notices that the door is open – more than what he originally positioned it.

Did the door just move on it’s own? He thinks to himself.

Oh shit, you thought. Can he see me?

He quickly pulls his white undergarment over his member, and slowly walks toward the door. You simply stand there, shocked at what just happened. He treads through you and peeks down the hallway. His deep voice resonates within the home.

“Hello?”

Nothing and no one responds.

“Is anyone there?”

Still no response. He takes this as a sign and steps back into the room, shutting the door behind him. He walks through you again and falls back onto the bed, removing his tight fitted briefs staring at the door. Cock springing free, he bends his arm in a “V” shape and rests it behind his head.

His fingers find his cock again and he pumps slowly. Pre-cum dripping from within his tip, creating a squelching noise as he continues to pump. You can’t help but feel uncomfortable watching your killer masturbate. But, you have to admit that he does look hot.

After all, he’s a guy. And you’d be lying if you said you didn’t think Taehyung was attractive. Of course, you always thought he was. But, that’s besides the point. You shake your thoughts off, and focus on the real reason as to why you’re here. Which brings you to more questions…

Why am I here? What am I to do to him? If I couldn’t physically touch him, how could I ever hurt him? How am I supposed to kill him? Do I even want to kill him? I just want all of this to end already. I need answers, but most of all I need Seokjin. I have to find a way to get to him.

Maybe I could write a note or something. To tell him I miss him and love him, and that even though I’m gone, I will never forget him. But how could I do that? If no one can see me, feel me, or touch me, how could I ever say goodbye to Jin who was once my boyfriend?

“Ahh, baby. Fuuuck, cumming.”

You’re interrupted by the sounds of Taehyung moaning again. Your gaze trails over to him on the bed, pumping furiously as streams of white sperm gush from his throbbing member. He moans your name over and over again as if it were a chant. You’re disgusted and amused all at the same time.

You simply cannot comprehend how he could jack off after murdering someone. He’s seriously sick. If he just killed you, why would he moan your name as he orgasms? It just doesn’t make sense. You can’t take seeing anymore of him, as you’re convinced he’s mentally ill. No person with benevolence would do such a thing.

Let me out of here! I have to see my boyfriend. Please! I just need to see him.

Once again, the atmosphere deteriorated. Gradually shifting the ambience.

The world pieced itself together once again, and here you are standing in the gym entrance of your high school. The sound of music booming from inside, students standing in line waiting to enter the building, and roars emanating from cars entering the parking lot.

Prom night? But... why am I here?

You stand there dumbfounded. Then the sight of you and Jin walking with arms interlinked catches your attention.

You wouldn’t want to spend your prom night with anyone else other than your boyfriend Seokjin Kim. You were attired in a hot pink satin dress, with ruffles at the bottom and on the shoulders paired with the white corsage. Your hair was curled in the most bounciest way. Jin stood tall, wearing a black and white tuxedo along with a hot pink bow tie, rocking his signature dirty blonde mullet.

Before entering the schools gymnasium, you look back to find Taehyung’s stationwagon is still parked at the entrance. He waves you both off. Jin nudges your arm to get your attention.

“Babe, look!”

You both stare at how well everything came together. Admiring the streamers and disco balls hanging throughout the gym, the confetti scattered over the floor, and the heart pounding bass of Wham! playing.

“Woah, the school committee really did an amazing job!”

Jin spies the area where the photographer is taking photos of each couple in front of a backdrop.

“Hey, let’s go get our picture taken!” he pulls you along with him, almost making you tumble.

On the other side, Taehyung still stands in the same spot from when you last saw him. He takes a deep breath while making his way into the automobile, closing the door shut. He rests his head on the steering wheel.

If only I could have her instead of that douche bag of a boyfriend she has.

He sits there contemplating on his next move. What should he do? Should he stay here? Or should he leave then return an hour later? He needs to blow off some steam, and being here another second is not helping him at all. He slips the key in the ignition and pushes the gas pedal with his foot, taking off into the night.

After releasing his tension at home, he still felt like something was missing. He couldn’t stop thinking about you, and he needed so desperately for it to stop. And he needed it to stop now. He hopped back in his stationwagon to scout for his next victim. Several minutes later and he finds a ranch on a farm.

He parks his car, and reaches under the seat to grab his infamous knife. He exits the vehicle and pops the trunk to acquire a tire iron then hikes up the trail towards the home. It was a small home, and no lights were on. He assumed whoever was inside may have been asleep, noticing a car parked in the driveway.

Gripping the tire iron firmly, he makes his way toward the back of the home to find an entrance inside. To his luck, he finds a back door and smashes the lock with the tire iron, prying the door open. He quietly steps inside and just when he thinks he’s got things under control. An older female flicks the kitchen light on, startling Taehyung.

“Shit,” he drops the tire iron on the floor.

The woman lets out a piercing screech and rushes over to reach the rotary phone on the wall.

“Hey! Get back here!”

Ignoring his commands, she grasps the phone, yet it slips between her fingers as Taehyung races toward her and plunges her against the wall with his body, pulling her away from the phone and against him. He wraps his arms around her, holding her still.

“No! No, please don’t! No, I don’t want to die, please!” The woman sobs, as her fingers graze across Taehyung’s jacket.

“Now, now don’t worry. It’s okay. Shh, shhh..” Taehyung whispers, caressing her face as he slips his other hand into his pocket to obtain his clippers.

“Please don’t hurt me, I promise I won’t say anything!”

Taehyung chops a wad of the woman’s hair, taking in a quick sniff before stuffing it into his pocket along with the clippers. The woman gathers enough strength to kick Taehyung in the knee. He groans at the pain and releases his grasp around her.

“Ahhh, fuck! You bitch!”

He limps to the tire iron and lunges it toward the woman’s head, causing her to drop on the floor of the kitchen. She lies there with a small gash to the head, blood slowly streaming down her face.

Taehyung bends over to pick up the phone that was hanging on the ground. He kneels down to lift the woman up, wrapping the cord around her throat.

“I’m sorry, but I can’t let you off that easily.”

Despite her breathing, he pulls the cord tighter around her throat, attempting to strangle her to ensure she was dead. And out of nowhere a powerful spark emits from the cord and the woman’s eyes shoot open. Taehyung bounces up on his feet and stares in awe, the woman gradually awakens and coughs, using her arms to prop herself up on the floor.

She turns her gaze to him, getting one glance before he storms off into the night. He bolts down the trail, panting, and nearly out of breathe. It was like nothing he’d ever experienced before. His plans never failed. His fingers shaking, he fumbles around in his jacket pocket to get the car keys so he can open the door.

Moments later, he’s speeding down the road, en route to the high school.

Someone had clearly spiked the punch, because after a few cups, you and Jin suddenly became hornier than usual. And after a few dances, it really set the mood. “Careless Whisper” started playing. It was your favorite song and he knew it.

“Come on Jinnie, dance with meeee.” You whined, pulling on his arm.

“Babe, I’ll be right back I promise okay? I have to pee really bad.”

“Pinky promise?”

“I pinky promise.”

“Bring me back more punch!”

He smiles at you and blows a kiss, walking away to the boys restroom.

You couldn’t believe that you didn’t notice this that night. But Jin never went to the restroom. Your spirit follows him as he sneaks out of the gym door, and entered the hallway of the school. He kept looking back, to make sure no one was following or watching him.

At the end of the hall, he makes a left turn. And enters one of the classrooms, shutting the door behind him. It was Mr. Hopper’s chemistry class. What’s he doing in there? You’re startled when you peek through the window of the door. He was inside with another girl.

You float inside the room to find that he was making out with her. Oh my God! He cheated on me with Jessica Jefferson?! The rudest, blondest bitch of the school. She runs the clique with other mean bitches and they always torment freshman.

That familiar feeling of rage fills you. You’d been dating Jin since junior year. Everything was perfect. I mean, sure you both had arguments here and there. But you both were inseparable. You were convinced that you’d spend the rest of your life with him.

Is this why I’m here? To see that he cheated on me?

You decided to leave the classroom and check on your human self. You remembered sitting on the bleachers of the gym, waiting for your boyfriend to return. You also remembered seeing Taehyung through the door of the gym entrance. You waved at him at first, with a bright smile. But, he didn’t wave back. He simply stood there, eyeing you like a hawk.

It was such an uncomfortable feeling. You awkwardly look over to the students dancing, to try and break the eye contact. After a few beats, you look back to see if he’s still standing there but he wasn’t. Just like that, he was gone. Why was he watching you? More importantly, how long was he standing there watching you until you noticed? You never understood why. That is, until now.

"Boo!”

You screamed as your boyfriend startled you from your trance.

You shove him on his arm. “Asshole! Why would you do that?”

“I’m sorry, babe. Just thought it would be funny.” Your expression gives it away, as you continue looking at the door Taehyung was standing behind.

“What’s wrong?”

“N-nothing. Let’s just go.” You grab Seokjin’s hand.

“Hey, I know the perfect place.” You stare into his almond-shaped eyes, admiring the way they curl as he smiles.

You follow yourself as Jin drags you to the boys locker room.

Although, you’re still curious to know why you’re back at prom night, this day merely now a memory. You watch as the being that was once you, straddled Jin on the bench before the lockers. Your tongues dancing with each other.

He supports your back with his hands, running down to your waist. Your fingers tugging through the thick strands of his mullet, while your hips grind onto his erect member that hides underneath his suit. Gushes of arousal coat your panties.

“Mmm, babe. I’m so horny for you,” Jin moans.

He plants kisses along your jaw, your head falls back taking in the nostalgic feeling all awhile simultaneously laughing. The alcohol clearly in your system. You bring yourself up to whisper in his ear.

“Let me suck you off, baby.”

You stand up to give him room to remove his trousers and briefs in one go. His cock is rock hard, sprouting up and free. You bend over to drop a line of spit on his cock, using your hand to spread it all over his shaft. He hisses at the feeling of your warms hands massaging his member.

“You’re so hard, Jinnie.” You giggle as you let yourself down on your knees. You tease him, first giving his tip a few kitten licks before opening your mouth wide enough to fit his thick cock inside. You enclose your mouth around him, gaining another moan.

He watches you from above, teeth grazing against his bottom lip.

“Yes, Feels... so good.”

His hips buck, moving to the rhythm of your mouth. You use his thighs as leverage. Moans escape you as he continues his pace, sliding his lengthy cock against the soft texture of your tongue. Saliva trailing from your mouth onto his member, and back toward you sliding down your chin and neck.

Jin places his hand on the back of your head to push his cock further down your throat.

“Fuck.. Just like that. Don’t fucking stop.”

The gargling sound of your spit echoes throughout the room. The stretch your throat feels from his cock causes your eyes to water, making it difficult to keep them open.

“Look at me, babe.”

You follow his commands and look up at him. The sight of you stuffed full of him in your mouth along with watery eyes is nearly enough for him to climax all over your face. The burn in your lungs to breathe approaches. You graze your nails rapidly against his thighs hoping he would get the memo. Thankfully, he pulls out the way out.

You let go of his cock with the sound of a pop, taking a deep inhale to regain your breathing back. You look up at him while pumping his cock in your palm.

“Jinnie.. do you love me?”

His eyes widen at your question.

“Are you kidding? Of course I love you, baby. You’re my everything.” He wipes away the tear that falls from your eye, still gathering your breath together from the deepthroating session. With a lustful look in your eyes, you plead,

“Show me, then.” His lips curl into that gorgeous smile. He guides you up on your feet.

“Bend over,” he commands. You support your weight on the bench with your arms, doing as he tells you so. You feel your dress being lifted up. His fingers trace along the shape of your vulva, feeling the dampened material.

“How horny are you, baby?”

“Mmm so horny. Please just show me already.”

His fingers find the seam of your panties, pulling them all the way down until the drop to the floor. He licks to the pads of his fingers and rubs them along your folds.

“Wow, so wet. Just how I like it.”

Your pussy pulses, aching to feel his cock inside of you. A small groan leaves your lips.

“You want me baby?” He coos while brushing his soaked member across your drenched folds.

“Yes, please. Need your cock.”

His hand grips your waist while the other eases himself in you. The bulbous tip stretching your lips, causing you to whine. Your wet coats his cock as a lubricant as he pushes in further, making it easy to slip in all the way.

He uses his remaining hand to place on your waist and he completely bottoms you out.

“Fuck, Jinnie!”

“I love you, baby.” He pulls out of you completely and rams back all the way in, balls deep inside your pussy, making you buck forward and your mouth to fly open with a gasp.

“I love you too... Oh my gosh, so deep.”

Your arms reaches around to push him back, attempting to ease his pace, but he slams harder into you. You claw his thigh with your nails, in response. The pain of him pounding himself deep inside you, hitting your cervix combined with the pleasure of your walls being stimulated leaves you in a state of reverie.

“Mmm, I love your pussy and how tight you are around me. Wanna make you cum all over my cock, babe. Can you do that for me?”

“Y-yes! I can, baby.”

Jin picks up the pace, literally hammering into you. The sound of his balls slapping against your ass, mixed with your moans, ricochet off of the walls. He licks the pad of his fingers and reaches down to rub your clit in circles. Applying just the right amount of pleasure.

Your spirit continues to watch, remembering that prom night was not only the last time you’d saw your boyfriend but it was also the last time you both had sex with each other. You miss the way he felt inside of you. He filled every bit of you and never failed to please you in the most sensual way. He always made sure you orgasmed before him.

“Oh, Jinnie... I’m cumming, baby!”

“Yeah? Cum all over my cock, babe. There you go...” Your walls pulse rapidly around his length and your body trembles below him. The constant contractions of your kitty around Jin causes him to twitch inside of you.

“Oh, babe! Fuck..” His cock shoots streams of his warm jizz, coating your inner walls white. He holds himself inside, making sure to bury his seed deep within your core. Your legs still shaking, he holds you to support you up from your orgasm still washing over you as thick ropes of his cum oozes out of your pulsing core. He bends over to whisper.

“Do you believe me now?”

Funny that he asked me that in the moment. Because I actually believed him. I really loved him. And I thought he loved me too. So, why would he do this to me? He continued acting like nothing ever happened. He lied to me. He never went to get punch. Would he even care that I died? What am I supposed to feel like now?

That familiar feeling of rage returns again, and you storm out of the lockers room. This time, you decide to find your way to Taehyung. Maybe you can get an answer as to why he was staring at you.

You find him sitting in his stationwagon, in the parking lot of the school, frozen. A million questions run through his mind. He’s lost, and he knows he’s doomed for good. Gently floating inside, you sit in the passengers seat. His hands are nervously rubbing his thighs up and down.  As if, he were afraid of something. Then you’re shocked to hear him speak.

“I have to kill her... but when? And how? What if I try and things don’t work out just like tonight. What will happen then? Was this a sign?”

His fingers trail through his mullet, and he keeps looking back.

“Fuck! I don’t know what to do. Don’t know what to do.”

He was talking about me? Wasn’t he?

“She’ll never accept me for who I am. I just want her. Want her so bad. Why can’t I just have her, God? Why?!”

Was he into me this whole time? Is that why he killed me? Because he somehow thought we could be together?

As time went on, you still roamed the Earth as a spirit. The sketch of The Silent Creeper had been released, and it wasn’t long until everyone figured out it was none other than Taehyung Kim. The town constantly tortured him. Kids threw eggs at his home windows, others threw rocks at his car, and some teenagers spray painted on his garage door:

MURDERER LIVES HERE

But you were there for him through it all. The night he’d found out that you were here all along, startled him. Even though it was part of his plan. There was a sense of pride that filled him, knowing that it had worked. But as the days came and went for some reason, you felt drawn to him. You thought at first maybe it was because of pity, but it was something that pulled you in closer. That made you more vulnerable. Maybe it was the sex? As the weeks went by, you both continued having sex with each other. You never thought it was even possible to have sex as a ghost, but here you are yet again.

“Oh fuck, baby.. yes! Just like that, Y/N. Don’t stop.” Taehyung moans as you continue to ride his cock. From his point of view, it literally looks like he’s fucking air. But his eyes are closed, as all he can imagine is your tits bouncing up and down, your head falling back with lips parted, relishing in the way his cock feels filling up your walls. He feels the warm, wet of your arousal clenching tight around him. He uses the palm of his hand to grip your hips, helping to guide you up and down on his cock.

He feels your walls suddenly escaping from him, and he frowns. Looking down at his throbbing, stiff member. Then a warm slick feeling encases his cock, and traces of saliva are visible. He throws his head back after realizing you’re sucking him off. His fingers reach out into the air, wanting to find where your hair is so that he can feel you. A small smirk appears on his face when his fingers are finally entangled in your mane.

It’s smooth, silky, and feels like Heaven between his fingers. He tightens his grip, pushing your head further down onto his cock. He watches as his member leaks of pre-cum, mixed with your arousal and saliva. The mixture streaming all the way down to his balls. He’s on the verge of cumming any moment now. He feels the texture of your tongue along the underside of his shaft, moving down to his testicles. Your nails gently grazing across his thighs, leaving behind a small trace of scratches.

His breathing hitches, as he feels himself near his orgasm. You hold his cock in your throat, swallowing him whole and you take this chance to hum. Your vocal cords vibrating around his cock. The sensation deep within the pit of his groin bursts. His eyebrows furrowing together at how intense his orgasm feels.

“Fuck, Y/N.”

The muscles of his pelvic area tenses up, his cum shooting into streams down your throat. He watches as it disappears into thin air. He knows you’ve swallowed his seed. He sighs of relief, completely satiated of his hungry desire for you. That is, for now. Chills run through him as he feels your lips pressing against his. His eyes naturally closing.

What feels like your hands gripping his arms, caressing his sides, makes him melt within your touch. He reaches his hand up, caressing what feels like your cheek. He doesn't want to stop kissing you. He’s waited for what felt like an eternity for this. In an instant, you pull away. Watching him as his eyes slowly open.

How have I come to fall in love with a murderer?

Taehyung’s confession on prom night had continued playing itself over in your thoughts. Leading up to now, you hadn’t been able to stop thinking about him ever since. After thinking of the first time when you visited him, and he saw the door open when no one was physically there, you contemplated visiting him again. It was the first time you both had sex, ever. Well more specifically with you as a ghost.

Just as before, he was in his room masturbating. This time he was fully naked and his door was opened wide. He was a lot more lanky than you thought, with a faintly visible six pack. His hand slithered up and down his shaft, and small moans escaped from him. You actually loved the sight of him getting off. It’s pretty hot.

You had taken the chance to show him you’re here, just as he always wanted. It was that day you learned Taehyung isn’t able to exactly see you, but he can feel you. As if you are actually there, in the spirit. Either way, the sex was like no other. He even told you that he was ready to die, just so that he could actually be with you. Not only to feel you, but to see you. Touch you physically. You being there as a ghost was like a hallucination for him, and he knew eventually he would grow tired of not being able to see your face as you writhe underneath him.

Your parents immediately moved out of state after finding out who The Silent Creeper really is. They were completely stunned. Before moving, your dad quit his job. On the contrary, your mother couldn't move on. After all, she was the one that found your body mutilated in your bedroom. It became so horrifying for her that her doctor ordered her off to a licensed therapist.

Things were bad. Really bad. Seokjin appeared at your funeral. After it was over, you followed him home. He was so full of rage that he completely tore down his entire room. Ripping off the wallpaper that once decorated his walls,  cracking his vinyls in half that he had tucked away under his bed, until he came to a specific one. It was for “Careless Whisper” by George Michael.

He pops the vinyl into the record player, and sets himself on his bed as the songs begins.

“Should've known better than to cheat a friend And waste the chance that I'd been given So I'm never gonna dance again The way I danced with you”

Tears stream down his cheeks, and he covers his face. His sobs can be heard throughout the room. You observe as his back rises up and down from his heavy crying. You wish that you could kiss him and slap him at the same time. You wish he never cheated on you, and you wish you never died. Maybe it would hurt less not knowing he did such a thing.

After sex with Taehyung, you decide to visit your home again, wanting to bathe in the memories there. But something has caught your attention. Just as you floated outside, four police cars were parked in the street in front of Taehyung’s home. They were all armed with their guns, aiming at the front door.

One officer had a megaphone, calling Taehyung out of his home.

“On the count of three, we ask that you please come out with your hands up in the air! Should you try to harm anyone, we will have no other choice but to open fire.”

You watch as Taehyung cracks the door open slowly and exits with his hands in the air. Then, he stops, quickly reaching into his jacket pocket, pulling out his bowie knife. You’re shocked at the action, but he had been at the end of his ropes with everything. And just like that, the officers open fire.

Piercing his body with bullets, and one going straight though his forehead. His body grows limp, falling into his knees and the weapon drops to the ground. Taehyung falls face forward onto his lawn.

The environment shifts again, and you’re blinded by the color white. Holding your hands up to cover your eyes, trying to escape the brightness that causes your eyes to shut closed. Then the sudden sound of a deep voice captures your attention.

“Do you wish to repent your sins before me?”

Looking down, you carefully open your eyes and notice that you’re able to see yourself, your hands, skin, feet, toes, everything. Standing above you is the Almighty, a bright source of light that is still difficult for your eyes to adjust to.

I must have been sent to my judgment.

You hear numerous cries below you, noticing the Underworld below the clouds under your feet. Lightning flashes as several fallen angels snatch souls away, sweeping them into oblivion. You’re instantly distracted by another deep, baritone voice ahead of you. Not like the previous voice you’d heard. It was a voice you found to be familiar.

“Are you calling me a sinner?”

You can barely make out the figure, but realize that the being is suddenly caught by one of the Fallen that sprung into the air down below, flying away. You hear a faint call of your name in the distance. You look down below you and spy a familiar face. It was Taehyung. 

“Y/N!” His hand reaching out toward you. A tear falls from your face watching him being pulled away from you.

The first voice you heard speaks again, directing His question to you this time.

“Do you wish to repent your sins before me?”

You turn your gaze toward the Almighty towering above you. Your eyes closed shut yet again from the light. You shake your head and slip with a slight confidence in your tone:

“No.”

a/n: aaaand that’s all everyone! can you guess what happened to Y/N after not repenting her sins? let me know in the comments! I’ve had this idea in mind for soooo long now & wanted to release it on Halloween but I’m a thousand days late pls forgive me. also pls forgive me if this is horribly edited ok it’s like 1 AM, oh & I’m wondering if I should write a sequel to this (promise it will be much more smutty smut & focus more on Y/N’s perspective) let me know in the comments if you’d like to read more! anyways, I hope you all had a fun and safe Halloween!

much love, 💜

[prorevenge]

Don't f*ck with IT, we run the world.

long story. tl:dr at the end.

All names and locations changed. About 10 years ago, on Neptune, I was working in my first software development job out of university. We made websites, promotional material, and supplied equipment for conferences and trade shows. So if a company wanted a booth at some event, we would produce everything and support them for the duration of the event. This is where I came across Maleficent. She was in charge of the marketing department of a company on nearby Pluto, and they hired us for a convention they were attending. I produced the website for them, which consisted of some pictures/videos of their latest product with a few paragraphs of text. Also some links to their social media, a sign up form etc., pretty basic stuff. It's important to note here that I never met Maleficent in person during this time, just talked to her once on the phone, the rest via email. She mainly dealt with our project manager, a lovely woman called Credenza, who made sure all the different parts worked together.

Part 1: The f*ck up.

Everything was going fine, I'd produced their website and was just waiting for Maleficent to send some images and videos of their product to replace the placeholders I had been using in the meantime. This was a Tuesday, the event was the following Monday. I emailed Maleficent asking when I could expect the files and got no reply. Still no reply Wednesday, so Thursday I asked Credenza to chase it up. She stopped by my desk a short after, a bit flustered. She'd just spoken to Maleficent, who had angrily claimed that she had sent them the previous week and had emailed me - she blamed Credenza and me for being incompetent. I could find it nowhere in my inbox/junk folder, so as far as I was concerned she was lying or had sent it to the wrong email. Credenza contacted her again, confirmed my email address, and asked her to send them again. She shouted at Credenza some more but eventually sent the files, but not until the last moment on Friday afternoon as I was getting ready to leave for the weekend. B*tch. I had to run that evening, but I promised Credenza I would log on Saturday morning and copy the files to the website and everything would be ready for Monday. Saturday morning and the video files didn't work. I don't remember the details exactly, but the files were made using some kind of proprietary codec that I just couldn't convert to something usable on their website. Long story, marginally less long, I spent Saturday praying to gods I didn't believe in for a miracle that wouldn't happen while trying to get in contact with Maleficent. Eventually on Sunday she replied back and I slowly walked her through the process of using another video format - she was using some crappy pirated software I'd never heard of to produce the videos. When she finally sent it, it still was wrong, but at least it was in a format I could read and convert myself. It all worked out in the end, the website was ready by Sunday evening and the convention went well.

Part 2: Trying to get me fired.

Following the convention, Maleficent was furious. She again accused us of incompetence and me personally for f*cking up her weekend (what about my weekend?!). I fired back at what a pain in the ass Maleficent had been (the guys who met her at the event said she was no easier in person) and how I'd done everything I could, but Maleficent denied everything and questioned how I was still in a job. This made Credenza look bad and her and her bosses (none of them tech savvy) didn't understand what I was talking about with 'wrong codecs' and file formats - it probably sounded like I was just trying to cover my ass after the fact. Plus, when it comes to money, the customer is always right. So it ended up becoming a sort of "let's just agree that we all made mistakes" thing, but it was clear that all fingers were pointing at me. Consequently I didn't get a pay rise I had been in line to get (meaning I couldn't move out from my parents’ house, which was killing me) and was put on probation for 6 months, though I left for another job on Vulcan after 2.

Part 3: Revenge is dish best served with béarnaise sauce and Sauvignon blanc.

About 6 Earth years later, I joined a company that sold women’s boots, all shapes, colours (that's how we spell it on Vulcan) and sizes. They had their own IT department that produced their websites and other internal systems. Little did I know that Maleficent had also moved to this company at some point, again in the marketing department, which was downstairs from me. There was a promotional event soon where our company was giving away goody bags with some freebies to anyone who signed up. The bags themselves were some high quality laminated things that were being specially printed up with our company's branding, plus a QR code. The QR code would take you to a special page on our website with discounts. I met with Maleficent (who clearly didn't remember me from before) and talked about the special page I was to produce for the website. She was a pain in the ass again. She was never available (she would take an hour and half lunch every day, and reclaim it on expenses) and when I did meet with her, she changed the requirements constantly, "Can you just change that bit? Never mind, put it back. Oh, actually could you put this shitty animation at the top of the page, no that's a terrible idea, why would you suggest that?" etc. Also, sitting with her, I witnessed how belittling she was to everyone in her team and would gossip about anybody if they weren't there at that moment. Obviously all the while remembering our previous encounter where she had all but got me fired. I thought about calling her out on this, but it would have achieved nothing and I had only just started working at this company a few weeks ago, I didn't want to make waves. So, I persevered and eventually my web page was done and I gave her the URL to send to the bag makers for printing the QR code. But she screwed up. I was copied into an email chain with her sending off the URL to the bag makers and she had done it wrong. The URL was something like "http://www.ourwebsite/offer" but she had sent "htttp://" instead. I double checked what I had sent her and mine was correct, she had obviously typed it out rather than using copy/paste. We were ordering 1000 of these bags from the printers and they were £1.15 each (I mean, 1.15 space credits). Then I noticed way down in the email chain, she had copied her password for the bag website: it was "password" - yes, these oxygen thieves exist by the millions. I logged in with her details (from outside work, with a proxy, just in case) and could see she had indeed ordered 1000 of the bags with the wrong URL for the QR code. I quickly added an extra zero to the quantity and also pushed the requested delivery date back to a day before they were needed. I wanted to change the URL to some porn website, but that wouldn’t match what she had sent in the email, and I wanted her to be unable to escape blame.

Part 4: The aftermath.

Honestly, I thought nothing would actually happen. I assumed the bag company would spot the URL mistake and just fix it. I assumed someone would notice the tenfold quantity increase and delivery date change. But as they say, when you make an assumption you make ass out of you and umption, because none of these things happened. The bags arrived at the last minute and the URL didn't work. Maleficent stormed upstairs and asked why our team had f*cked up and demanding we put it right. I acted innocent, did some trouble shooting, and explained to her the URL had an extra 'T' in it. "Fine, change the URL on our website" - nope, the "http" bit is out of our control I'm afraid, it must be the bag company's fault. But wait, what's this? Your email to them with the wrong URL? This doesn't look good for you. Meanwhile someone comes up stairs and asks "Weren't we only getting 1000 bags? There seems to be a lot more..." Maleficent rushed downstairs to sort out this fresh hell that was rising around her as a warm glow welled up from inside me. I actually never saw her again, I had to travel to one of our other offices that afternoon, but a friend filled me in later. With not enough time to sort things out with the bag company, Malificent had to rush around town to find a stationary store that could print 10000 QR codes on sticky labels to stick over the wrong one on each bag. Apparently she was there most of the night attaching them all, which was doubly funny as I'm told we didn't quite manage to give away the original 1000 bags at the event the following day anyway, let alone the other 9000. She was put on 'gardening leave' and fired for gross incompetence and costing the company all the extra money - now the marketing department is run by a guy called Theodopolopodous - he's much nicer.

tl;dr Evil marketing queen doesn't keep track of who she f*cks over, got her fired several years later when we ended up at the same company.

(source) (story by ImperiousChipmunk)

[parkbearum]

Wishes

REQUESTED

Description:You were trying to find a quiet place to study for relaxation but what you weren't expecting was a small company of a stranger.

Genre:Fluff

(I feel really guilty after the smut I wrote for Dark Bloom)

Baekhyun X Reader

It had been a few weeks since you had some time stay on your own and think about what was going on your life.You liked quiet places however your house has been a mess since your grandparents showed up for a vacation.You parents were never with you because of their work so you were the one taking care of your brother.They weren't exactly your family.

You were adopted by the couple when you were 6 years old and since then,they had been taking care of you.It wasn't hard to point out that you were adopted.Despite speaking fluent Korean,you were really different form them.Your looks and your behaviour always seemed odd as you weren't used to the lifestyle they adopted but you were thankful that they accepted you as you were even though it was a bit hard at the begging.

You tried to go to many cafes before however, they were either packed or they theme was annoying.It wasn't easy to find a cafe that was quiet and didn’t have a lot people inside.Instead of cafes, you started to go to libraries.There weren't many around your house but you knew how to use metro so you went to many libraries.National libraries, libraries designed for researchers and many more.

You needed some time to think.About your future, your dreams and your school that was coming up.You were in summer holiday but that didn't mean you had to forget about school,at least that was what your stepdad told you before leaving the house with your stepmother for a work conference in Japan.

You looked at your phone while walking down the street to go to the metro.It was 14.55.Your brother was out of his piano class 25 minutes ago which meant that he was home by now.That was a relief.You walked down the stairs and after finding the location of the library you wanted to go, you started to look for the metro.It was crowded as always.It didn't matter if it was weekend,holiday or summer.The metro was always packed.At that moment you wished you had someone with a car to take you home after you visited the library even though you knew it was impossible.

You paid the entrance money and entered the library.It was a really big one full of ancient pieces of work.You had no idea why they decided to put big pieces of art anywhere they could find, not that you minded.It made you feel at ease.

You found a little corner to sit and read for a while.You didn’t like to sit on chairs or sofas.They felt too uncomfortable.You always sat on the floor or some pillows they put for children to sit.It was better like that.At least you didn't feel any pain while sitting unlike when you used to sit on chairs.

It took you 20 minutes to find a book that you wanted to read.It was a book about universe and planets.You weren't interested in astronomy but you were curious about the universe.How it was formed and theories about how they move made you feel interested somehow.

You sat on the floor reading the book for an hour.It made you feel so small when you read book about the universe.You sat there until you felt a heavy gaze on you.It didn't make you feel uncomfortable but it felt like it was burning your skin.You looked around too see absolutely no one but you were sure someone was looking at you.You chose to ignore it.

The librarian came close to you after a few moments, telling you to sit on the sofa or a chair.She surely didn't know how much you hated chairs.All you could do was offer a sweet smile and nod after sitting on the floor for an hour and a half.

You stayed at the library for 2 more hours reading books and sometimes listening to music.You weren't the type to read books and listen to music at the same time.You had to focus on one since they were both energy consuming actions for you.

While you were sitting on a chair reading a manga, A young man came to the same table as you were sitting and sat without looking at you.The table was big for sure but he sat on the chair in front of yours.You could see his delicate hands and to be honest,they were far more beautiful than any hand you had seen.

He was reading the book you chose when you first came in the library.It was strange that he was able to choose the same book as you did out of all the 10000 books that were in the library.You wanted to ask him about the reason why he chose the book but you didn't know him.It was a bit strange to start a conversation with someone you had no idea of.

You decided to stay silent and read your book however the strange man had different plans.

“I thought the universe was made of cotton candy..” he said with a frown.

That was the first time you had seen him.He had a beautiful face.He managed to be both handsome and cute while frowning and he was wearing a black shirt on top of tight jeans.He was surely someone popular you thought.With that face  and clothes, he must have lots of friends.However,what he just said made you a bit confused.Cotton candy? Maybe he didn't really have good grades or was the playful type.

He looked at your eyes smiling after what he just said.

“Uhm...Well....It obviously isn’t..” you said trying to form some kind of smile after his long stare.

He only giggled and whispered “I’m baekhyun”.Well,he was direct person for sure.

“O-okay” was all you could say before he raised his eyebrows, meaning “Whats yours?”, at least thats what you thought at the moment.

“I-I’m Y/N” you said whispering.You thought he was whispering because you were in a library.

“That’s a unique name you have” he said smiling and looking at you.

“Thanks” you said trying to avoid him because you didn't want to get kicked out of the library.

You thought he would say something loudly all of a sudden or maybe he would try to talk to you while still whispering.Maybe he would walk out after saying “nice to meet you” or offer you a drink.But what you didn't expect was a yawn after another one.

Crushing all of your expectations,he just sat there and yawned.After some time, he got tried of reading the book or looking at the pictures and he put his head on the table.You thought he would sleep but he just sat there looking at the ceiling.

He was a odd one, just like you.

While he was still staring at the ceiling, you decided to take a look at the man sitting across the table.He was handsome for sure but there was also something in his actions that made him look cute.He had a angelic smile.A smile that made you feel happy.His behaviour was different from anyone else you had seen.He looked mature but he had a complete different aura.He wasn't exactly someone you could call a flower boy.He was more likely to be someone with lots of girls on his side.

When you were about to start reading again and take a break from looking at baekhyun,he immediately turned his head to you and your eyes met.He looked t you for a brief second before fixing his hair and yawning again.

“I want to sleep” he said with a deep voice.

“Then do so.” you said looking at your book again.

“I don’t want to sleep at a library though” he said smiling. “That would be weird” he aid after a long pause.”Like I have no home or something” 

His last sentence made you look at him.

“Like I have no home or something....”

Maybe he didn't have a home.It didn't seem possible with that clothing and shoes but maybe, just maybe he didn't have a home.Maybe just for tonight or this week.There was nothing wrong with not belonging to somewhere and you knew that.

“And.” you said looking directly at his eyes.”What if you don't ?” you blurted out daringly.

He looked at you with a dark expression on his face.

“No....Its....Ugh......Its nothing” he said before dialing a phone number and waiting for the person to answer the call.

You just watched him without saying a single word.

“Hey! Hi.Uhhm....Can you pick me up from the Orphan Library please?......Where?.....Uhmm...Don’t you have a navigator on your phone or something?” he said before ending the call.He looked aggressive.

“I wanna take you somewhere” he said with a soft smile.

Take you somewhere?You didn't even know the man.You learned his name an hour ago and now he wants to take you somewhere? he was odd.

“W-wha..Me?” you managed to say after a couple seconds.”You don't know me tho....I don't know you as well.” you said trying to come up with an excuse.

“I have been watching you for the lat 4 hours you had been here and I'm a good observer.” he said lying back on his chair.”You know me for an hour and you did take a look at me while I was posing, I mean watching the ceiling.” he said giggling.

He watched you as you start blushing and more questions started to pop up on your mind.

“So...just come “ he said offering a hand.”I promise it'll be fun” 

All you did was to offer a smile and take the hand of the stranger.

Ok so I think its gonna be a series.I have no regrets lol.I saw some of the gif sets and vids from the fan sign today and dude! I wanna fly to Korea and hug all of them.Some OPs are just too lucky.Anyways,There you go to the person who requested this!!!!

[sailormiyoung89]

I’m really looking forward to this read through because I bought the books a few years ago and then never ended up opening them. It was the end of Spring- beginning of Summer and there was a LOT of garden work to be done outside. Therefore I ended up listening to Roy Dotrice and his…interesting at times voices :D I also kind of ‘yada yada-d’ the first two books as I have watched the show and I knew that it had begun as very loyal to the books. So it should be interesting to see if I pick up more on a reread now that I can actually take my time reading through. One thing I will say though is talking about asoiaf makes me very uncomfortable. Which probably sounds weird but from my perspective, the fandom is so intelligent, I feel like I have nothing to add and am just blabbering on. So please bear with me to an extent and excuse me when I inevitably say some really dumb things.

The way I will be writing this up is I will be reading a chapter and writing a mini chapter review and then I’ll continue. Rather than reading a clump of chapters, forgetting details from ones I read closer to the start and writing one review on several chapters.  

Do keep in mind that I HAVE ‘read’ the books once and am up to date on the TV show so I can’t promise first time book readers that I won’t discuss spoilers.

I’ll put everything else under the cut! :D

 Prologue:

I found Waymar Royce a pretty interesting character. He’s arrogant and standoffish and a poor commander but not unintelligent which tends to accompany those kinds of characters. He was quick to point out that if the wall was weeping then it wouldn’t be cold enough to kill them. It was also interesting to see that George established so early on the ways that those in power can really screw over those underneath them.

One thing that I was wondering that didn’t make a lot of sense to me is that George doesn’t really call them ‘white walkers’ as much as he does ‘others’ and I was wondering why D&D changed it for the show? Calling them ‘white walkers’ just causes more confusion with ‘wights’ and George chose to call them Others because of the idea of ‘the great other’ and changing their name loses some of that.

 Bran I:

Bran was a great character to open up the series proper. As he’s so young and it’s his first time going with Ned to execute a deserter, we can gain a lot more exposition through Bran without it feeling very artificial.

Also, Robb is quick where Jon is fast? Maybe I’m being dense but is there a difference between being fast and quick?

Also, I feel like Theon wasn’t this awful in the show. Kicking around the head of the deserter and his quickness to kill the direwolves…so far book Theon is MUCH more unpleasant.  Also maybe I’m reading too much into this but is the one that Theon tried to kill Grey Wind? Robb hands baby Grey Wind and another of the pups to Bran to hold and it’s one of those that Theon tries to take from Bran and kill.

*edit I reread it and it’s probably Summer. I thought Robb was letting Bran hold Grey Wind but he just told him to pet him.

Also, let’s talk for a minute about the aging up of the characters in the TV show. I can understand why they did so for Dany; after all watching a 13 year old have sex with an adult on TV would be completely unacceptable. Not to mention they probably couldn’t film a sex scene with a teenage actor even if they wanted to. But I don’t understand why they made Jon and Robb the same age as Theon. With Theon being a good bit older than the other two lads, Robb and Jon obviously have a lot more in common and are much closer. Theon isn’t so much the outsider and the prisoner of war whereas you do get a bit more of that in the book. Making them all the same age in the show made them kind of interchangeable at the start; three lads of the same age growing up in the same family unit who’re probably friends. You certainly don’t get the sense that there’s much dislike between Jon and Theon.

Also one part towards the end of the chapter really stuck out to me.

‘“Can’t you hear it?”

Bran could hear the wind….but Jon was listening to something else.’

Jon then dismounts from his horse and find Ghost. What I found interesting was that we later find out that Ghost makes no noise. And it’s something that Jon can hear that Bran and the others cannot. Therefore I think that even in this first encounter with the wolves, Jon has ALREADY unlocked his connection with Ghost.

Catelyn I:

I love Caitlyn. On my first read-through, my favourite chapters were Cat, Sans and Cerseis’.

One thing I found interesting is when Ned tells Cat that ‘the man died well’, which is the same as what Robb said in the previous chapter, setting up the first parallel between Robb and his father. However in the previous chapter, Jon immediately disagrees with the notion that the deserter died ‘well’ or ‘bravely’ which is a notion that Bran seems to side with. And as our POV character for that chapter, we’re set up to side with Bran. So I certainly found that fascinating.

I also found it very interesting how early in the books the isle of faces is established as a place in Westeros in the South which also has weirwoods. Given the significance of the Isle of faces to most R+L=J theories and the significance of the weirwoods in future books it’s veeeeery interesting how quickly it was brought up as being a thing.  

It’s also quiet interesting how this is the second time we’ve seen Ned now and he’s very different in Catelyn’s eyes than he was in Bran’s. In Bran’s POV chapter we see Lord Stark of Winterfell whereas in this chapter he comes across pretty introverted and we really get a sense of him being a ‘quiet wolf’. The Stark and Lannister feud is also established very quickly when Ned describes the queen’s (whom he doesn’t refer to be name or title) family as an ‘infestation’. It’s also pretty funny how he goes on to say that no living man has seen an Other the chapter after he executed the deserter. I’m sure most people caught that particular piece of irony but I still found it amusing nonetheless.

Daenerys I:

I don’t really have a lot to say about this chapter to be honest. It’s a good chapter. I find Viserys and Dany to be an interesting parallel to Robb and Jon in the previous chapter. Viserys and Robb are both heads/future heads of their families. Both boys have these expectations of people. Robb insisting that the deserter died bravely, Viserys choosing to believe that Ilyrio is loyal to him and that he will retake the iron throne. They both have to project power and certainty. Whereas their younger siblings both see through that. Jon knows that Will was terrified. Deaneries hears what they are called in the streets, she mistrusts Illyria.

And this is going to sound weird considering that he literally ends the chapter saying that he would allow the entire khalasar to rape his sister, but a part of me also feels really awful for the life of fear and terror and running that Viserys would have experienced as a child. Not excusing his actions by any stretch but I do empathise with what he went through.

Another detail which I’m sure most people picked up on but I’m going to point out anyway is the golden collars and how Drogo is described as being so rich that all his slaves wear them and Daenerys is also given a golden collar and called a princess.

Also this chapter set up and name dropped SO MUCH. Stannis, the lord of light, Tyrells, Greyjoys, Unsullied, Elia Martell. I’m sure there are more that I missed but I think this is probably the chapter so far with the most setup, which is really interesting when you consider that Dany’s storyline is the most removed from the main story.

Eddard I:

While Daenery’s I was the chapter with the most set up, Eddard I is definitely the chapter with the most exposition so far. In this chapter we learn about Robert’s Rebellion, the Greyjoy Rebellion and how Theon came to be Eddard’s ward. It also hints at R+L=J and we’re also introduced to the crypts of Winterfell.

I never really paid much attention to the descriptions of weapons before but they’ve really grabbed my attention on this reread. In Bran I, we’re given a description of Ice and it’s described as being as wide as Robb and taller. Taller than a teenage boy. I don’t think we were given Robb’s height but he HAS to be at least 5’5. And yet despite the strength it must take to wield Ice, Ned can hardly even lift Robert’s warhammer. Which really says more about Robert’s strength than anything else George might have written.

Jon I:

Acrobatic Tyrion. Is this the dumbest thing that George has ever written? And it has NO plot significance. Unless Winds is released and we hear that Tyrion has been refining his abilities all this time and does a back flip onto a flying dragon or some shit.

Also, I have 0 time for entitled, whiny, bratty Jon. He is so mean about Myrcella. (I may or not be 10000% on the side of ‘protect all these small children in this asshole universe so I will always object when they’re treated horribly, particularly the really young kids). And I KNOW it’s supposed to highlight that highborn ladies are not the kind of women he’s into. And I KNOW he’s probably projecting his feelings about his relationship with Sansa onto Myrcella. But fuck you Jon Snow. You are so fucking whiny. You have absolutely 0 appreciation for how good your life is. As Catelyn is well aware, most men don’t bring their bastards home with them and raise them along with their other children. You have it really good compare to most others born in your position. And I can’t help but compare him to Dany who is brought up by her abusive brother constantly on the run. She had a much, much shitty childhood than Jon. And yet SHE doesn’t complain. The closest we get is towards the end when she tells her brother that she wants to go home….yeah so far I don’t like Jon very much at ALL.

Although I did find it interesting that his role model was Daeron Targaryen. Apart from the obvious Targ connection, Daeron was a terrible conqueror.

Moving on to his discussion with Tyrion at the very end of the chapter and George’s establishment of Tywin’s belief that Tyrion is the son of Aerys.

‘“You are your mother’s trueborn son of Lannister.”

“Am I?” The dwarf replied, sardonic. “Do tell my lord father. My mother died birthing me, and he’s never been sure.”’

I’ve honestly never been a fan of the ‘____ is a secret Targ’ theories. But it’s certainly interesting.

Catelyn II:

I know that a lot of people hate Cat for her treatment of Jon. I am not in that camp. Of course I don’t think that it’s fair but given the world they live in, where bastards can be such a big problem in terms of succession rights, it’s understandable that she feels very threatened by this bastard child who is brought into the family, is of age with their firstborn and is treated equally to the other children (in her eyes). Catelyn is a smart, pragmatic woman. She is as well educated as other highborn. She knows about the Blackfyres. So rather than seeing him as a kid, she sees him as a threat to the lives and futures of her own children. It’s nothing personal against Jon himself. And in that situation, I don’t think there are many mothers who WOULDN’T treat him with hostility. If there’s anyone to blame for Catelyn’s treatment of Jon in this environment, it’s Ned. I definitely think that Ned should have trusted his wife with the truth. I know it’s a risky secret to entrust people with but he should have trusted Cat.

On another note, how fucking big are Luwin’s sleeves?!

“Luwin was always tucking things into those sleeves and producing other things from them: books, messages, strange artifacts, toys for the children”.

I’m just imagining that he’s put Hermione’s undetectable extension charm on his robes.