#i tried to get screen caps but i am literally unable to

[nadunacreates]

new Wednesday headcanon unlocked: she's a total troll and probably has a secret cell phone & twitter account squirreled away somewhere. 

How else would you explain that the same Wednesday who “refuses to be a slave to technology” and “doesn't have a phone” also knows, within hours of meeting, about the bad punctuation and grammar of Enid’s vlog, other than having watched it herself? Also, she says that Enid’s followers are “clearly imbeciles” who respond to Enid’s stories with “insipid little pictures” — which you would only find out about by stalking the comments. 

And how else could Wednesday look at Enid and immediately have “the following emojis come to mind: rope, shovel, hole”? Wednesday has to know that these are options in the emoji-catalog, which even I wouldn't have been able to tell you off the top of my head. 

TLDR: Wednesday's got us all fooled. Prove me wrong :D

Bonus: “if you're going to gossip about me, at least spell my name correctly.” Are these professional gossiping-standards you want to uphold there, Wednesday? Hm?

[olivia-anderson-fanfic]

I am looking forward to reading the continuation of the alternative ending of satisfied! Can’t wait! 😜

Happy Easter lmao here’s your monthly dose of depression ig

Though this one is slightly more lighthearted than usual

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@solangelo252

The life of a captive of Bruce Wayne was surprisingly posh.

Maybe her standards were just really low because the last place she’d been held had been a lab where fear gas was tested on her almost daily(? her concept of time was fuzzy)... or maybe the Waynes just knew how to treat a kidnapee. Who knew.

But, hey, she’d been given a phone!

It was hacked, of course. Anything on the internet that even vaguely mentioned Bruce Wayne, the bats, or the Rogues was impossible to access. This had been a little annoying, but not necessarily unexpected. She was more surprised that they were giving her a phone at all.

She sat on the end of the bed, legs swinging like a toddler’s as she looked through twitter.

Gotham twitter just wasn’t the same, though. Where were the people joking about how they’d been praying for a Scarecrow attack so they wouldn’t have to take their finals? The underpaid cafe workers talking about how Batman had come in at 5am for coffee to get through the last leg of patrols and they had to turn him down because they weren’t open yet? Even the usual jokes about the Next Wayne(TM) were hidden from her! No, the internet almost seemed empty.

This left her with very few things to do. It wasn’t like she could request people to talk to her -- not that she’d wanted to, she didn’t want to bother them -- so… she was pretty much always working out or sleeping.

Working out was nice. She hadn’t been allowed to do it much while with Harley and it felt weird to be so out of shape. Who knew it could happen so fast? Certainly not her, and she was going to rectify her newfound lack of athletic ability. Dick even came by daily to help, so she was quickly getting back into the swing of things.

But as for sleeping...

Kwami, she missed caffeine.

Her subconscious was apparently determined to torture her.

(She supposed someone had to do it, since Joker hadn’t followed through on his intentions.)

Most dreams were haunted with memories of the stupid fear gas-induced hallucinations. The bats, now accompanied by Harley, would tell her exactly how much of a screw up she was. They’d give her disgusted looks and admit that they regretted ever talking to her or taking her in. And then they’d leave her, alone, surrounded by the corpses of she hadn’t been able to help.

She’d wake up crying and alone. She’d put on a random podcast and then wrap herself up in her blankets to try and trick her mind into thinking someone was with her.

And, when it wasn’t that dream, she found herself drowning in acid again. For such a short part of a series of unfortunate events, it sure did have an effect on her. She’d scream as the acid touched her skin, burned her lungs, tried to seep into her ear canals… and then she’d get pulled out to look at Joker’s smug face and she’d almost want to be pushed back under because she hated to see him looking so satisfied.

Those ones hurt. She’d wake up, her throat screamed raw, her lungs aching. Even hours later, she’d find herself running her hands over every bit of exposed skin to try and get rid of the feeling of the acid gnawing away at her.

The worst dreams, though, were the ones where she’d be visited by Bruce. Everything would go to plan. She’d stab him in the jugular and then pull the pen out, watching as blood spurted from the wound. He’d fall to the ground at her feet, unable to speak above the blood gurgling in his throat, and she’d just watch him. He didn’t even look betrayed, he just looked… he looked like he accepted it, like he accepted her and what she’d done and that he still cared for her after all that she’d done.

And then she’d wake up, but she never really felt awake when those dreams came. She felt like she was still half asleep, her body more limp than Bruce’s had been at the end of her dream, and any emotion she should have seemed impossible.

She hated the numb. At least she could do something with the screaming and the crying, at least she could bring herself down from those. How do you bring yourself down when you aren’t up in the first place?

But, maybe it was a good thing she was numb. It boded well for her. At least she wouldn’t be hurting if -- WHEN -- she managed to do it for real.

~

She turned off her phone, disappointed as always by how little content interested her, and almost cringed when she caught her appearance in the black screen.

Her skin was bleached from her time in the chemicals. The blood vessels under her eyes had burst when she’d been forced to go without coffee for too long. One of her cheeks were sucked in seemingly permanently from how often she’d been biting it. Her lips were stained cherry-red and stretched thinner than she remembered. Where her ears should have been were large holes in the sides of her head...

But nevermind that! The door slid open with a metallic hiss.

She didn’t know why she’d hoped it would be Bruce, she’d known perfectly well that that wouldn’t be happening for quite some time -- if ever -- but there she was, hoping it would be him. That this would end quickly.

Nope.

She looked up at Cass and Duke and her heart twinged painfully when she saw them.

She had missed them. So much.

(She’d almost been disappointed when she’d found out that they wouldn’t be home when she was going to try and kill Bruce, but then again she wanted them to continue liking her so maybe it was for the best she didn’t attempt to kill their father right in front of them...)

It was nice to see them again. Honestly, she’d missed them more than anyone else. They were her favorites.

(She couldn’t bring herself to feel bad about that. They were pretty much everyone’s favorites.)

She practically threw herself into Duke’s arms. He laughed and, though he struggled a little, he managed to catch her. She buried her face in his chest.

“Wow. I see how it is,” Cass said, but Marinette could hear the smile in her voice so she didn’t bother pulling away. Instead, she reached an arm in the direction of her voice and, once she’d managed to catch the sleeve of her shirt, dragged her into the hug.

The three Diversity Adoptees stayed like that for a long time.

And then she pulled back. “You guys better not have gone ahead in the show without me.”

Duke’s face twitched into a frown momentarily before he smiled again, ruffling her hair. “We didn’t. Scout’s honor.”

“You were a scout?”

He snorted. “God no.”

“Then --?”

“Shhhhhh,” he said, using the hand already in her hair to pull her into a noogie.

“Fuck offfffff,” she whined, trying to peel his knuckles away from her scalp.

Cass pulled her away from Duke. Strong arms wrapped her in a new hug and she blinked before returning it.

“Little sister. Leave her alone,” said Cass.

Marinette shot him a nasty grin from between her arms and Duke sputtered. “But I --.”

“Little sister,” she said again, like that explained anything. Maybe it did. Marinette didn’t particularly care because Cass was smoothing out her hair and it really did feel much better than the noogie she’d been getting…

She closed her eyes and leaned into her, relaxing.

Or, at least, she’d tried to relax. Until Duke sighed dramatically and said “Oh well, I guess I have five months of episodes to go through alone…”

“Wait --!”

~

She barely managed to lift her head up when she heard the door slide open, and then she bolted upright when she saw who it was.

Jason.

Her hand slid into her pocket, to the pen resting there, and she slowly pulled off the cap.

No. She couldn’t do that. If she tried to kill him then her pen would be confiscated and she couldn’t even imagine being able to kill Bruce with her bare hands.

(Granted, she didn’t really think she had a good chance of killing him with a pen -- it was a PEN -- but it the chances were more than 0% so it was overall way better than just trying to choke him out or something.)

She closed the pen and settled for glaring at him.

This fucker was the reason that she was there in the first place, and he hadn’t even given her an honorable battle that would have felt satisfying, what a --!

He held out a cup of coffee as a peace offering.

What an amazing person. Literally an angel. She loved him. Her favorite member of the batfamily.

If she’d had any less pride, she would have ran to get the coffee. As it was, she still speedwalked to take it off his hands.

The moment the drink touched her tongue, tension she hadn’t even noticed seemed to dissipate. The calm was quickly taken over by desperation, though. She had to fight herself not to chug it down.

(She also had to fight a wave of nausea, her body was not at all used to taking in any food or drinks anymore, but damn it she was going to get this coffee down if it killed her... again.)

Even with her super amazing self-restraint, the drink was gone within seconds. She swirled the remaining dregs, considering the pros and cons of trying to drink it because she remembered someone telling her that the last sip of drinks are always backwash…

But it was backwash that might have had caffeine in it, so she drank it.

She smiled brightly at him. Kwami, she’d missed caffeine so much. The only person who had given her coffee was Riddler the few times he had come to visit. Apparently Harley didn’t approve of it, though, because he had only brought her coffee three times before he’d suddenly stopped appearing.

… she hoped Riddler was still alive. She’d liked Riddler.

But she knew that asking about any of the Rogues would make the bats think that she wasn’t ‘healing’ up properly. So, instead of asking about him, she said “You know, B is gonna kill you for giving me coffee. I just got unaddicted.”

Jason groaned. “Great. Thanks for telling me AFTER you drank it all.”

“Of course. I wasn’t going to let you take it away from me,” she chirped.

He rolled his eyes. “Rude. Fine, I guess you won’t be addicted since it was only one cup. Can’t get in much trouble if I don’t give you more.”

Her eyes widened. “Wait --.”

“Yeah. I’d really prefer if the bats weren’t annoyed at me, so I guess that’s all you’re going to be getting.”

“Jay, wait, I didn’t mean it --.”

“Oh well,” he sighed. He brought a hand to his forehead like he was feeling faint. “If only I had an amazing little sister who would give me a hug --.”

She was wrapped around him before he’d even finished his sentence. Sure, it was blatant manipulation, but there was no way in hell that she was losing her one chance at caffeine.

(Besides, it was a hug. Hugs were nice.)

She’d spent the rest of the day with him, exchanging jokes about death.

The others didn’t really like them. Even Dick, who always liked a good pun, would only get sad when she joked about how she wasn’t alive anymore.

Jason, though… Jason understood.

And his death had been years ago. So he had a lot more jokes than she did.

“Ohohoh one time someone tried to flirt with me by saying they were a necrophiliac and I said ‘deadass?’ and…” He snickered. “And they said ‘yeah, exactly’.”

She brought a hand to her mouth, trying to hide her smile. “Oh my kwami, really?”

“I’m dead serious.”

She rolled her eyes. “I mean, I’d say they were going to hell, but they’d probably like it there.”

He laughed a little, shaking his head.

“It’s nice having someone to make jokes with. Damian doesn’t like joking about it.”

“I know. He’s always all…” He screwed up his face and raised his voice to a whine “‘It is not a joking matter, Todd’.”

She gasped. “It’s almost like he’s here with us.”

“Uncanny, right?”

She closed her eyes, allowing herself to relax.

“... I missed you. We all did,” he said quietly.

She didn’t know what to say to that. Not really. She ended up just giving a tiny laugh and shrugging her shoulders.

His phone beeped in his pocket and she heard him shift to check it. He groaned. “Sorry, kid, I’ve got patrols.”

She nodded slightly and fell back on the bed with a yawn. “You’re coming back tomorrow, right?”

There was a beat.

She cracked her eyes open to see him considering the idea.

“Please?” She tried.

Another beat.

He broke into a grin. “You just want more coffee.”

“Guilty as charged,” she said, not even a little sheepish. “But I don’t mind the fact that you’re coming either.”

“I feel so loved.”

“You are,” she said, with a little pout thrown in for good measure.

He ended up agreeing to bring her coffee daily. She smirked after him. He wasn’t the only one that could manipulate people for things he wants.

Her smirk dropped the moment her hand slipped into her pockets and she realized he’d taken the pen from her when she’d given him a hug.

Bastard.

~

Her eyes flicked past her visitor briefly and she was met with a nondescript, white wall. She was pretty sure that this wasn’t Wayne manor, with it’s dark reds and browns, but she was almost willing to ignore that logic so she could believe that it was. At least if it was Wayne manor she might have been able to guess her coordinates by making portals appear in rooms at random until she found it. But if she was just… in a place then how was she supposed to ever get out?

She didn’t let this show on her face, because of all of them Dick was the most emotionally intelligent and would definitely notice. Instead, she beamed at him.

“Ready for our workout session?”

It was kinda weird, because it was so much like their old routine. They would stretch and talk and practice new moves… but it didn’t feel at all the same. Before everything had happened they had talked about meaningful things; list off their emotions and talk shit about the other bats (they loved them, sure, but they were a handful).

Now, though, neither of them were actually talking much. There was very little going on in her life, so she didn’t know what to say and he… he seemed to think she was weak or something, like she couldn’t take it. One time he’d almost slipped up and told her about how Tim was worrying him because he was getting borderline obsessive and then, when she’d politely pressed for more, he’d clammed up and told her that she didn’t need to worry about that.

She kind of didn’t like the sessions with Dick. They felt wrong.

But she really missed him and his octopus hugs that she could melt into. So she never told him and they kept doing them.

“Jason gave you coffee,” said Dick instead of greeting her.

“... I managed to do a triple backflip!”

He raised his eyebrows at her and she chose to interpret this as him being disbelieving of her ability to do a triple backflip from the ground (which was fair, she’d taken ages to manage it even once and she had nothing but free time) and not him noticing her feeble attempt at changing the subject.

“I did! Look!”

She tried and landed flat on her face. She could hear his strained breathing as he tried his hardest not to laugh. She wished the floor would just swallow her whole.

At least he wasn’t concerned about the coffee thing anymore?

He took a seat in front of her and she slowly raised her head to look at him despite the fact that she very much wanted to burrow into the floor and never emerge ever again.

“We have footage of it, so I’ve seen it, don’t worry. Tim was pretty proud of you so he showed everyone… and I’m proud of you, too, obviously. That took me years.”

She smiled brightly. Tim was apparently proud of her. She didn’t see much of him, so it was kind of nice to know that he was watching over her... even if it was a little creepy that there were people watching her pretty much every moment of every day to make sure she didn’t escape or kill herself.

“Seriously, though, I’m not letting Jason back if he keeps bringing you coffee.”

The smile on her face dropped and she bit the inside of her cheek. Part of her was kind of mad that Jason had taken the pen from her -- really, she should have figured out that that was what was going on, though, he was never the most cuddly -- and the other part was desperate for coffee.

The coffee addiction won out.

“But…” She sniffled a little and pulled tears to her eyes. She tried not to think about how easily they came. “But I need…”

Dick groaned quietly and she felt arms hook under hers and pull her into a hug.

“This isn’t going to work.”

She buried her face in his shoulder and let the tears fall.

“I know what you’re doing.”

“I can’t sleep,” she whispered. “Please. I can’t. Please.”

Ah. That was a little more genuinely vulnerable than she’d intended on being.

But, hey, it was working. She heard Dick’s breath catch at the admission.

“Why not?” He said softly, running a hand up and down her back.

Why he even bothered to ask, she didn’t know. The bats knew about her nightmares. They knew about everything she did, why would they stop when she fell asleep? But she hadn’t mentioned it up until that point and they hadn’t brought it up either.

Still, she mumbled “Nightmares.” She hesitated only slightly before adding that it was “Ironic that NightMare has nightmares, but...”

Dick gave a laugh and she felt herself smile at the sound. He always did like bad puns. Her smile dropped a little when he told her “You still need sleep.”

She laughed bitterly. “It’s not like I’m getting much of it when I wake up every ten minutes anyways.”

He sighed and she felt his head rest on top of hers. “I guess one cup a day isn’t that bad…”

She gave a halfhearted cheer.

“Would you like to talk about your dreams? Sometimes that helps...”

She didn’t even hesitate to shake her head no. She did, however, hesitate to pull away from the hug. She liked Dick’s hugs far more than she’d ever admit, and ever since she’d come back she’d liked them even more. He was just about the right size and just squishy enough for her to pretend she was getting a hug from Harley.

But, eventually, she managed to pull herself together and she pushed him off as gently as she could.

“Ready to workout?”

Dick was wearing a particularly sad look that she decided didn’t look right on his face.

But then he brought a smile to his face and nodded. “Bet you I’m still more flexible.”

“Probably, but don’t get used to it. Your days as the world’s best gymnast are numbered.”

“Hm. We’ll see.”

~

 Damian.

She blinked at him. She really hadn’t expected him to… come by at all, honestly. Sure, they’d been getting along better than they’d used to and they were partners before she’d disappeared, but they weren’t partners anymore. He had no reason to come talk to her.

She smiled at him nonetheless. Company was company, and she wasn’t about to be picky when she was locked in a room for the foreseeable future.

“Dami!” She said brightly, crossing her legs criss-cross applesauce and then -- after thinking about it for a moment -- smoothed her dress out to make sure everything was hidden. (Damian was only a few months younger than her, she knew that logically, but some dumb part of her kept saying ‘child’.)

He regarded her for a moment before taking a seat beside her.

“Marinette,” he greeted carefully.

“Are you here for something?” She asked.

He hesitated, just slightly, and then nodded.

Ah. She wasn’t sure how she could be of help, compromised as she was, but she was certainly ready to try.

“I would like to know about my miraculous. Plagg has been… behaving oddly recently.”

Her smile slipped off her face at that. “Oddly how?” She said, eyeing his pockets like she believed the kwami would pop out at any moment and show her himself (which, granted, was entirely possible, but apparently not going to happen).

“He’s been more energetic. Less hungry. It doesn’t make sense.”

She thought about this for a few minutes, resting her head on her hand. Damian was right, that didn’t make sense… if anything, Plagg had been getting more laidback and mellow as time has stretched on...

Unless…

“Have you been using him?”

“... no. Is he just hyper from not being used, then?”

She stared at him, her head tipping to the side slightly as she considered him. Why wasn’t he using the miraculous? She would understand if it was a tactical decision to keep Catw -- was she called something else now that she was using the ladybug miraculous? -- Selina from using the miraculous as often, but it seemed he didn’t really know about that… so why…?

She pushed the thought from her mind. Maybe Damian just didn’t like the smell of Camambert. She wouldn’t blame him.

“It’s a balance thing. If the ladybug is used without the cat, the ladybug gets weaker and the cat gets stronger. Opposite thing happens when you use the cat without the ladybug. They’re meant to be used as a pair.” She clicked her tongue. “It probably doesn’t help that you’re on different sides.”

He nodded his understanding.

There was a beat as they just stood there (well, technically they were sitting, but whatever). She was kind of wondering why he was still there when he apparently didn’t need anything else from her, but what was she going to do? Tell him to leave? No. She was kind of desperate for the company of someone that wasn’t Jason or Dick (Cass and Duke only came by weekly so she didn’t mind them as much… also, they were Cass and Duke, so...).

He cleared his throat awkwardly, pulling her from her thoughts.

“Drake has informed me of your state.”

“I’m dead, yeah,” she confirmed.

He winced and his eyes fell to his lap. “I have also died before, if you would like to talk about it.”

She stared at him. She really hadn’t taken him for the kind of person who would offer moral support…

She pulled a smile to her face and leaned over to press a kiss to his cheek. Her smile became a little more real as she watched him scowl and wipe away the kiss.

“Thanks for the offer, Dami, but I’m fine.”

He gave her a skeptical look.

“Really. I’ll tell you guys as much as I need to for you to believe it: nothing much happened while I was there. Honestly, it was more boring than scary. So relax, I’m fine. I’ll live.”

And then, because she couldn’t help it, she added: “Well, that ship sailed long ago, but you know what I mean.”

He clicked his tongue. “Now I have to deal with terrible death jokes from you AND Todd? I wish I were dead.”

“You wish you were STILL dead, you mean?” She teased, reaching out to pinch his cheeks and breaking out into laughter when he swatted her hands away.

He rolled his eyes at her and then, with a short ‘Goodbye’, he left. She watched him leave, and the smile slid from her face in time with the door sliding shut behind him.

She fell back on the bed and closed her eyes. She didn’t get why people were so concerned about her. They’d faced worse. Hell, even SHE’D faced worse. Why were they making such a big deal about it?

Nothing had happened! Did they believe her when she told them that? She’d had no reason to lie, and she hadn’t been lying... and even if they’d thought she had they had Cass to prove she wasn’t. Hell, that was probably why Cass had come by at all, to check on her mental state! So why were they all so worried? They should know it was fine!

And even if she wasn’t fine (which she was!) it wasn’t like she didn’t have the same training as them. She could spot the victim questions from a mile away and she could even ask them to herself. She knew the answers, and she knew which ones she should be avoiding because she knew that they sounded way worse than they actually were.

Some vague part of her whispered that if anything sounded at all bad to the victim questions then she was, in fact, a victim. She buried her face in her pillow and gave a strangled scream of frustration. Now she had their stupid voices in her head telling her something was wrong, too.

~

She didn’t even look up from her phone when she heard the door slide open. Partially because she was kind of addicted to Geometry Dash and she wouldn’t win if she was looking up and partially because she could smell coffee so she knew who it was anyways.

“Thank fuck you’re here, Jay, I was --.”

“Sorry, but you’re going to have to wait a little longer for him, bean.”

Her eyes snapped to the door and her little box thingy on her screen died but she could hardly bring herself to care.

Tim!

Her face lit up. She hadn’t seen him in a while and she had really been missing him. Also, she noted vaguely, he was apparently healed from all of his injuries. Nice!

Except, as she scrutinized his face, she noticed he looked even more tired than usual. His skin was deathly pale, the bags under his eyes made him look like a raccoon, his hair hung limply around his face…

“Damn, and I thought I looked dead on my feet,” she teased softly to hide her concern.

He managed a smile and she waved him over to lay down with her. He hesitated before coming to sit beside her on the bed.

“When’s the last time you got some proper sleep?” She asked, tugging on the sleeve of his turtleneck to try and get him to lay down and cuddle with her. If she could get him to he might accidentally drift off.

He must have known what she was trying, because he resisted her attempts. “I’m fine. It’s been a while, but it’s nothing I’m not used to.”

She crossed her arms. “Fine. What’s wrong?”

He stared at her confusedly.

“You only get this bad when something is going on. What is it?”

He just kept staring at her and she shifted awkwardly.

“... bean…” He pinched the bridge of his nose. “It’s you. I’m worried about you.”

She groaned. “Not you, too.”

“Obviously I’m --.” He cut himself off and then mulled over his words for a bit. He decided on: “I don’t want to keep you here forever. I don’t want you to get ‘better’ because we Stockholm syndrome-ed you. Or re-Stockholm syndrome-ed you, since Harley already did it.”

“She didn’t --,” Marinette started, but she gave up on that. She knew they all didn’t understand it and arguing would probably only solidify their belief that Harley had messed her up in some way. Instead, she settled to address the rest of the statement:  “I mean… I already liked you all beforehand so… it’s not like caring about you would be exactly NEW...”

“It’s still wrong.”

She gave a tiny shrug. “It’s not like you have any other options. I’d probably be doing the same thing if everything was reversed.”

“That doesn’t really make me feel better,” said Tim with a tiny shake of his head.

She bit the inside of her cheek to keep the frown off of her face. “Then I don’t know what you want from me, Tim.”

He sighed. “I want you to get better.”

“Hard to do when I’m already fine.”

“But you’re not! You’re literally dead! How is that at all fine?!”

She rolled her eyes. She was getting a headache, though she wasn’t sure whether or not it was because of caffeine withdrawal (she was pretty sure Jason was supposed to have come in a few hours ago) or annoyance at repeating herself so many times. She pressed her cold hand to her forehead to try and alleviate it somewhat.

“It’s not even that bad, honestly. I can still drink coffee and sleep and that’s all I really care about. I can even feel pain! It’s pretty much the same except I don’t have to go to the bathroom and I can’t change clothes!”

Tim stared at her for a few moments before slamming his palm against his forehead. “That’s what it is!”

“Huh?”

“I thought something was weird about you being dead,” he explained, though it didn’t really explain anything. “Give me a minute, I’ll be back.”

She watched him practically run out the door and frowned confusedly. Sure, it was a little weird that she could still do most stuff, but that didn’t really warrant getting up in such a rush. Maybe the dead thing creeped him out more than he let on and he needed a breather?

So she picked up her phone and started playing Geometry Dash again while she waited for him to come back.

About an hour later she heard the door slide open and she raised her eyebrows at the sight of Tim holding a thermos and a plastic tray of food from Red Robin (the restaurant; anything he cooked was straight poison and if she tried it she might just die for real).

She watched him sit down with them. “You hungry?”

He shook his head and shoved them towards her. “They’re for you.”

Her confusion only seemed to grow.

“Sweetie, I don’t eat,” she reminded him, though she did take the thermos in case… nice! Coffee!

“Except you can if you want to, which is weird, right?”

She shrugged a little, not bothering to tear her lips away from her drink to give him a proper ‘I guess’.

“But where’s it going? Because you don’t go to the bathroom so it has to be used up in some way otherwise you would have probably exploded by now.”

She finished the drink and then set down the empty thermos beside herself. “Magic, probably…”

“Maybe,” he gave her, but that didn’t seem to put him out. “But then there’s the pain thing. Sure, it’s muted, but it’s definitely still there. Why should a dead person feel pain?”

“Because I’m not fully dead…?”

“Exactly!”

She shrugged again. “I really don’t see where you’re going with this.”

“What if you just need food or something to come back? Because you clearly had a headache, and it seems like it’s caffeine-related because you’ve relaxed a little since you had your coffee, which means we know that your digestive, nervous, and circulatory system are still working on some level...”

She stared at the food he’d given her.

“You think that if I eat enough I can come back.”

He nodded. “I know it’s a longshot, but we should at least try it, right?”

[sope-and-shine]

The Right of a King: Pt. 2

-> SFW // Soulmate!AU // fluff, angst // mummy!Namjoon -> Pairing: Namjoon x Reader -> Word Count: 18.7k  -> Summary: Life as the night guard for your local high-end museum was supposed to be simple and easy. The most dangerous part of your job was only supposed to be the middle-aged patrons who insisted they get a discount for a line being too long. Nowhere in your contract did it say you’d be taking care of a 1,000 year old king that had been mummified. Thankfully, for you he’s harmless, but the storm that comes with him is not as welcoming. -> Warning(s): mild language, brief crude humor, misogyny still exists, overuse of the word wench but not by Namjoon, brief mention of death, brief mention of illness, Jimin is STILL that salesman that uses his charm to steal your money and your boyfriends money - but will anyone complain? no. , kdrama ending - if you know you know, mild violence

a/n: Thank you @sakuraguks-main​ for checking this out before posting! You really came in clutch for this one 

also i SWEAR NAMJOON WILL GET A HAPPY ENDING 

Part 1 // Masterlist

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Who would have thought that your life could turn up like this? You didn’t have any intention of ever falling for the man who literally scared the shit out of you when you first met him, but now you can’t help but blush when you think about him. The look of content he has when he views a new exhibit, the gentle smile he shares with you when you bring him food for the night. Some of his mannerisms are still very annoying, but he’s much more endearing than you initially gave him credit for.

He’s lightened up over the past few days as you’ve grown to know each other more. You’ve put in an effort to not patronize him, and he’s made a much greater effort to not to offend you with comments regarding your gender. Teaching him about misogyny was a night you won’t forget.

You spent half an hour just teaching him how your phone worked. Thankfully, he grasped the concept that it was much like the kiosks around the museum, only the smaller device did much more. You also threw in a quick explanation on the internet and it’s wonders, using that very interesting lesson to segway into your talk about women of power.

The woman on the screen throws another punch into the man’s jaw, cutting up and effectively knocking him back into the cage surrounding the ring. She advances on him and continues to throw punch after punch until a call is made and she steps back into her corner.

“Is he dead?” Namjoon asks, watching the man crumple to the ground through the tiny screen.

You chuckle at his assumption, “Not dead, but he’ll definitely feel all of those tomorrow when he wakes up.”

“She has excellent precision!” He praises, “I can’t believe the women of this era are so fierce.” He taps the screen to try to rewind the video like you showed him before, but he can’t seem to tap the screen just right. He huffs, “Infernal contraption…”

You laugh at him and he glares at you, “You think this is funny?”

“No! Not at all~” You say, all the while trying to hold your laughter back.

Namjoon is unimpressed with your amusement and pushes at your shoulder, “Don’t be so childish.”

He’d usually get annoyed with you when you’d laugh at his shortcomings and achievements. Every huff over the kiosk and every curious press of the button at the water fountain is met with a small giggle from you. You just can’t help it when his eyebrows furrow and a little pout appears on his face, and you’d found it harder to ignore his excited little dance when he did something new. 

“Alright, I’ll stop.” 

Despite annoying the king to no end, he did enjoy your lesson for him. He also learned that he enjoyed boxing and the political diplomats of the 21st century. For some reason, both seemed to go hand in hand for him, but you weren’t going to question his sudden enjoyments of your world. He was known to read and write in his free time before his death - not to mention the battles he faced when the situation arose. Introducing him to women proving their strengths in both probably ignited a fire that he hadn’t been able to experience since before his death. 

As a way to help him, you decide to bring him a notebook and some felt tip pens. It wouldn’t be like anything he was used to, but it would give him an outlet for himself. Sure he had you to talk to, but you weren’t exactly ideal. With a pen and paper, he’d be able to write out his own thoughts and feelings for himself. He wouldn’t have to worry about holding it all in or hoping you’ll understand how he feels.

Handing them to him is a nerve wracking experience itself. This wasn’t just walking around the museum to look at the exhibits as an act of kindness, this was a gift. He didn’t ask for it, and you were so nervous that he wouldn’t even like color.

“What are these?” he asks, taking the bag from your hand. He opens the top and looks inside, his eyebrows furrowing in confusion.

“I stopped by the store on my way here.” You grab the top of the bag and pull it towards you, letting him hold it open so you can pull out the materials inside. You show him the light blue cover of the notebook and flip it open to showcase the pages, “It’s a notebook so you can write down your thoughts when you don’t want to say them to me.”

“I see.” He nods in understanding. He looks into the bag and reaches in to pull out the felt tipped pen you’d bought just for him. He looks even more confused than he had before, holding the plastic container between his fingers. “This is what you’re using to write with now?”

“It’s called a pen.” You set the notebook back in the bag and take the pen from him, pulling the cap off so he can see the tip. You draw a line on the back of your hand before showing him the mark you made, “They put all the ink inside one part so you can write with this part. The cap is so your ink doesn’t dry or bleed out.”

You hand him the open pen and let him try, allowing him to draw on your hand so he can try it himself. Seeing the black line appear in one clean stroke by his own hand, he becomes mesmerized, “Genius.”

“At the end of the night, you can tuck them away by your feet so you can keep them close. Just make sure the pen clicks when you put the cap on.” You explain. You hand him the cap to the pen and watch him carefully put it back in place, laughing when he flinches at the clicking sound. “Did that scare you?”

“It most certainly did not! It was just too loud!” He argues, attempting to defend his pride.

“Oh, no! The great King Kim Namjoon is afraid of a teeny tiny pen!” You tease, laughing at his expense.

“I am not scared of the pen!” He whines, unamused by your teasing. You continue to poke fun at him, even as he protests against you.

CRASH

A loud, metallic clanging interrupts your small dispute. Before you can even turn your head to see what it could have been, Namjoon grabs your arm to pull you into his embrace. He has your face pressed against his firm chest, a hand cradling the back of your head to hold you close. You can feel his muscular arms through the thin fabric of his shirt pressing against your back to keep you in place and protected from whatever danger may be lurking in the hall.

“What is that?” He asks, more to himself than for you.

“-Ah owno!” You mumble against his chest, unable to properly pronounce your words. You push against his chest and tap his sides until he finally lets you move back far enough for you to try again, “I don’t know.”

Namjoon pulls you over to a display case - the one that runs parallel to the kiosk wall - and presses your back against the wood. He looks around the case before he turns back to you with the most concern you’ve seen on him since you’ve met. “Stay here.” 

“No.” You try to push him off, but Namjoon’s grip is firm. 

He levels his face with yours, “(Y/n), I’m not letting you put yourself into potential danger!” 

“Namjoon, that’s my job!” You remind him, “If someone is out there, then I need to report it! Let me go.” 

You try your best to push against him, not wanting to use excessive force if you really don’t have to. Only Namjoon still refuses to budge, “No. You can’t protect yourself properly, I’m not letting you go.”

“Oh, I can’t protect myself?” You ask. In all fairness, he’d never seen you in action besides when you first met, and you could only manage to scream and back away from him at the time. Now, you were in a real situation that required your immediate attention, and he was mocking you for not being strong enough!

“No, you ca-Ah!” Instead of allowing him to continue, you kick your right leg out and wrap it behind his, pulling it towards you as you push against his shoulders at the same time. He falls to the floor with a thud.

“Now, how about you stay here and I’ll go check out what’s going on?” You suggest, leaning over him as he holds the back of his head.

He tries to sit up and falls back down with a grunt, “Yeah...that sounds like a good idea.”

You leave Namjoon lying on the wooden planks and go to investigate the sound. You pull your flashlight from your belt loop and peek around the entryway. The hall itself is completely empty, no signs of anyone having been in the hall. Making small, quiet steps to the next exhibit, you see that it’s gate is still intact and locked just as you had left it. 

A hand places itself on your shoulder and you don’t hesitate to kick behind you. You turn over your left shoulder to hit your assailant in the neck, but you quickly stop when you see it’s only Namjoon who’s bent over himself behind you.

“Namjoon!” You rush forward to comfort him, holding his arm with one hand and rubbing his back. “I am so sorry.”

He applies pressure to his shin where a patch of dirt is left from your shoe. He looks up, “You are surprisingly good at that.” 

You bend down, leaning over yourself to look at Namjoon on his level, “Yeah, self defense classes come in handy for everyday criminals. They don’t really teach you what to do when an ancient mummy breaks free from his coffin.”

“Sarcophagus.” He corrects.

You scoff, “Is there really a difference?” 

“Ow...” 

You and Namjoon exchange a worried glance, unsure of what to think. The hall was empty and the exhibit was still locked, so whoever spoke had to have been hiding within the exhibit and you’d missed them during your sweep. They wouldn’t be the first to try, but they would be the first success. You’ll be lucky if Hoseok and Yoongi don’t fire you on the spot when they get here. 

You move to the gate, “Alright, you’ve had your fun-” 

You stop.

Looking at the exhibit from the doorway, you don’t see anyone at all. No human being stands anywhere within the exhibit. However, the artifacts that line the room are more than just the usual ‘eye catching’ that patrons would describe them as.  

They’re alive.

It’s truly a scene from a movie, watching the paintings on the wall move in ripples as their paint begins to stretch with every push against their canvas’. Statues along the rooms edges move with ear-piercing screeches and subtle creaks, their bodies slowly moving of their own volition. In the next room over, the statues move as well. Extraordinary and familiar, you can’t help but to stare in awe at the scene before you.

Namjoon shares the same sentiments, only he’s even more amazed, “Are you seeing what I’m seeing?” He asks. His jaw is slack and brown eyes as wide as a curious child. Between the both of you, he should be the one that’s used to the scene.

You can’t help but nudge him, “Now you know how I felt.”

He shakes his head, still enraptured in wonder, “It’s amazing~”

“Yeah…” You look over the room, watching the pieces that can move freely begin to roam. Each one is different as they allow their curiosity to take over. They remind you of Namjoon the second night he had been awake; each confused yet determined to learn more about their surroundings.

In the second room over - the one that connects to the exhibit - you find only a few of the artifacts have also come to life. It’s strange, but you don’t question the magic of the supposed moon goddess. Instead, you and Namjoon enjoy the new company given to you through the night, and you ensure they return to their rightful places at the end of the night.

* * *

“He told those children that I rode tigers around my palace in my freetime! I did no such thing!” Namjoon rages, arms flailing about. With each angry word, his arms move back and forth as if they’re constructing an invisible masterpiece,  “I protected and rehabilitated it! I imprisoned many a man that sought those beautiful creatures for such purposes, and I will not accept such ridiculous claims against me!”

Neither you, nor Namjoon had gone to the exhibit next door. He’d been on a tangent about Jeongguk’s inaccuracies since you met him at his gate and he pulled you in. Apparently, he’d woken up during the day, unable to remain asleep. He’d spent quite a bit just thinking in the dark while casually listening to the conversations that happened beyond his resting place. He’d heard a couple argue, two friends making fun of his portrait, and even an elderly woman paying her respects to him. But no conversation he heard was as important to him as Jeongguk’s ‘outrageous’ claims to a group of random school children.

“It’s like he thinks I am a joke! Am I a joke?” He turns to you with such a heated glare, you almost feel bad when your face breaks into a smile. Namjoon seems to pick up on your thoughts when he sees this and his frown forms into a thin line, “Nevermind, I don’t wish to hear your opinion anymore.” 

“You shouldn’t take it to heart. Jeongguk isn’t the most educated person among the museum staff.” You say, attempting to reassure him. However, it only seems to anger him more.

“Why not? He works in one of the most wonderful places in the world, and he chooses to ignore the precious history around him?!” He spits, resembling the same king you had first met. His hardened gaze was nothing but cold and spiteful, “How selfish can he be to not take advantage of such a wonderful opportunity?”

“Woah, chill out. Jeongguk isn’t the brightest tool in the shed, but he’s one of the most hardworking!” You defend. You knew better than anyone that Jeongguk was not the best candidate for the job, but he was always looking to improve. Above everything, he always put his everything into studying the exhibits - even if it wasn’t spot on, “Sure, the information may not stick or he may not remember it exactly as it is, but he’s a nice kid.”

“I just don’t see why he’s perfectly fine with learning it wrong.” Namjoon takes a moment to think, really thinking about what you said before he continues, “If I were him, then I would do everything I possibly could to learn about these exhibits and that my information is accurate.”

Your expression softens and Namjoon sighs, “I just want to know more about this world. If I am to be stuck in this era, then I want to experience it all for myself! I want to know what I’ve missed.”

What do you say to him? A simple ‘I’m sorry’ will only go so far. There’s only so much you can do for him in his current situation. If you could let him leave then you would, but he has no papers, no family, and no experience. He’d be forced to leave without question if someone found him as he is now, but you can’t decide if that would be worse than keeping him locked away in the museum for the rest of his life. If you were forced to, you’d go crazy. To think about being stuck in his position…?

“Namjoon-!” You try to speak up, but his hand raises to stop you.

“It’s alright. I know you can’t do anything to help me.” His smile is bittersweet as he shows it to you, his dimples nowhere near his cheeks. He clears his throat and stands, “I think I’ll stay in my exhibit tonight. I’d like to be alone.”

“Are you sure?” You ask, not wanting him to be alone.

“I’m sure.” He nods his head and hands you his empty food box, “I’ll see you tomorrow as usual.”

You allow him to walk away from you, disappearing to the back of his exhibit with a certain stiffness. It’s like he’s reverted into the shell of the king he was that first night, only this one is choosing to hide from you this time. Even when you leave and wish him goodnight, he doesn’t say it back. He isolates himself, and you’re disappointed to find he’s still by himself when you come back at the end of the night. 

Even after the other exhibit is double checked and the morning shift arrives to clock in, you’re still thinking about Namjoon. Especially when Jeongguk arrives with his morning coffee order. It was hard to not think about what he had said and the experiences he was missing out on. There was so much he could be doing, but instead he was locked away like a caged animal.

You mull over these thoughts as you replace your security jacket with your outside coat. They weigh heavy on your mind even as the break room begins to fill with the morning shift. You’re so distracted, you almost miss Hoseok greeting you.

“(Y/n)! Have a good night?” He asks, unaware of your own personal conflict.

You nod in return, “Yeah! It was as eventful as usual.”

“I bet the air conditioner kicking on really gave you a run for your money.” Taeyang jokes, reminding you of your first shift on the job when he had helped to train you.

“Oh, doesn’t it always.” You reply, a light roll of your eyes expressing your amusement. You set your flashlight on the top shelf and close your locker. Turning back to the table where your things lie, you look at Hoseok, “Did you find anyone for the night shift?”

“No, not yet.” He says. Only this time, it’s almost a relief to know you get to keep Namjoon to yourself for just a bit longer. 

You nod and grab your bag off the table, “Okay, just keep me in the loop.”

“Actually-!” Hoseok stops you before you get too far, “You’ve been working a lot of hours and I really appreciate your hard work. Why don’t you take the weekend off and I’ll cover your shift.”

“Oh!” You contemplate his offer for only a moment, “I don’t know.” 

“You don’t know?” He asks, his head tilting to the side.

You know he means well, but all you can think about is Namjoon waiting for you to show up and being greeted with Hoseok instead. You don’t even bother to think about the exhibit next to his that’s also come to life. If Hoseok finds Namjoon, then he’ll call the police and then you’ll never see him again.

You smile, trying to mask your nerves, “I mean, are you sure? That’s two whole nights-”

“-Three!” He interrupts, “You deserve a break and I’m not taking no for an answer. Go out to a club or something. Stay home and watch a drama. Do something other than sit in the office and have fun.”

You honestly haven’t thought about doing anything fun since you’ve started to appreciate Namjoon’s presence more. If anything, you’d rather spend the nights at the museum with Namjoon rather than at home alone. 

That’s when the idea hits you.

If you take Friday off, then you can sneak Namjoon out Friday morning. You can take him home with you and show him what the outside world is really like, rather than him watching from a window. You could take him to try street food, the Han River, the sea. There’s so much that you could show him, but you only have so much time to do so.

You agree to Hoseok’s offer and wave goodbye, for once walking out of the museum with some pep in your own steps. Later that night when you return, you’ve added a tape measure to your bag of things. Namjoon is more than confused when you accost him before giving him his food for the night.

“Am I having something tailored?” He asks, his body tense as you place the measuring tape against his shoulder.

“No, but I am buying you clothes.” You say, looking at the measurement you got so you can record it as well. 

“What for?” He asks.

You look away from your phone for only a moment, meeting his eyes before you turn back to your screen, “Do you want to see more of today’s world, or do you want to stay in this museum?”

“You’re taking me out?” You can practically see the excitement in his features without even looking at him. It makes you happy to know he’s happy, but at the same time, you know it might mean more to both of you than you’re willing to admit.

“Just for the weekend.” You tell him. You take his food out of the bag you brought and hand it over, “This is just a friendly gesture, so don’t think anything of it.”

“I won’t. Promise.” His smile is taught, and you know he’s disappointed more than anything to hear the words leave your mouth. But at least you’ll be able to make him smile in less than 48 hours.

“Good.” You grab your own food and take the initiative to sit down first, “I’ll figure the rest out later, but I need to make sure I can convince the other exhibit not to move for the next 3 nights tonight.”

“I’ll help you!” He insists.

That night when the both of you finish eating, Namjoon assists you in talking to the other exhibit. He uses the moment to work on his social skills once again, pretending that he’s speaking to other humans of the modern age. It’s both amusing and heartwarming to watch him, the bright smile he offers to every living artifact that he speaks to. Even more so, they each treat him with so much respect and kindness. To them, he is a king, and they have no problem treating him as such.

Even after you’ve talked to everyone and you’ve closed the exhibit for the night, you spend your night walking the museum halls with Namjoon. You let him practice with modern slang sheets you found on the internet while you order clothes to pick up for him, stifling your laughter when he uses words you’d never heard anyone his age use. It’s endearing to listen to him practice, and it excites you to know you’ll get to show him his first real glimpse of the world so foreign to him.

It’s all you can think about on your way home, before you go to sleep, and when you wake up in the afternoon. Waiting in line to pick up his clothes, you can only think about Namjoon waiting in line. You think about the mistakes he might make and the blush on his cheeks when he realizes he made a mistake. Walking along the sidewalk, you think about Namjoon seeing a car up close for the first time. Would he be scared? Would he try to break into one?

You’ll be keeping a very close eye on him around cars.

Your coworkers give you curious stares as you walk in with more bags than usual, but none press you about what you’re doing with them. Everything is moving seamlessly, and even Taehyung gives you an easy time kicking him out of the museum. You thought Namjoon would give you a hard time as well, but you’re pleasantly surprised when the man giddily takes the bags from you.

You leave him to put on the first outfit you picked for him, leaving his exhibit open to come find you when he’s done. The whole night that you spend finishing your paperwork and your rounds for the night, reminding the other exhibit that they have to be still for the next few days. When you finally catch up to Namjoon again, you’re almost speechless to see him in casual clothing. If you’d known a pair of jeans, a white shirt, and a simple green jacket would look so good, you would have bought them for him the second day you’d known him.

“Do I look okay?” He asks, unsure of himself in the new style of clothes.

“Perfect! Now, follow me.” You both leave his exhibit, you locking the gate before leading him down the stairs. You take him all the way to the lower level storage space where new exhibit pieces are loaded from the large dock doors. You find the right key for the padlock and open one side just enough for the both of you to look through. “You wait out here on that bench right over there. Don’t leave that bench.”

“Why not?” He asks.

You shrug, “Because I said so.” 

“I am a king!” He reminds you, puffing his chest more than necessary.

You shake your head, “And I'm the queen of I don’t give 2 shits. Go park yourself on that bench and stay there or I’ll end you myself.” You push him out the door and wave him off, Namjoon stumbling to catch his balance.

“Well, you don’t have to be so violent.” He grumbles, dusting himself off, “I will not remove myself from the bench until you allow me to do so, queen of not giving 2 shits.”

“Thank you.” You laugh, paying his scowl no mind. You close the door, but you open it once more before he gets too far, “I’ll be out soon.”

You lock the dock doors back up and rush yourself upstairs, double checking the exhibit to make sure everything is in place and there’s no trash left about. You return to security and clean up your own belongings, waiting only 15 minutes before your morning shift comes to liberate you. Packing up and clocking out is a breeze, sparing only a moment to say goodbye to those who greet you. All of your focus is on returning to Namjoon before he decides to wander off.

Going through the employee entrance, you walk along the side of the building to get to the back. It only takes you a minute along the sidewalk before you make it to the bench where the king sits in his new clothes. He sits with his usual pristine posture, watching the cars and people pass in front of him. He reminds you of a child - a very overgrown child - watching the world around him for the first time. It’s almost as if for the first time he’s seeing everything in color, and every sight is one to cherish.

“Enjoying the view?” You ask, catching him off guard.

He jumps at first, but his shoulders relax when he realizes it’s just you. He nods, “Yeah. It’s different in the light.”

“Things usually are.” You agree. You let him rake his eyes over the city, allowing him to experience the early morning beauty for just a few moments longer. He looks so at peace with the world seeing a true sunrise for the first time since he last walked the Earth. His lungs taking in large breaths of fresh air instead of the cold museum air that he’s grown accustomed to. Pair it with his new clothing, he looks as though he’s spent his whole life in the 21st century with you.

When you feel a yawn crawling up on you is when you decide it’s time to leave, “Let’s go back to my place to get some sleep and then I can show you everything you’ve been missing.”

You can tell he’s reluctant to go, his entire body tensing as his hand unintentionally grips the bench as if it would ground him there for just 5 minutes more. But instead of voicing his desire to stay, he nods and stands to join you, “I would be honored to be shown to your apartment.”

—-

It’s just past 1:30 in the afternoon when you wake up, the soft melody of your alarm ringing in the small confines of your loft. The rays of sun coming from your apartment windows hits the decor of your loft just right, bouncing off of your mirror and sending a sliver of light to cover your eyes. You’re more than tempted to hit snooze and turn yourself over to catch just a few more precious hours of sleep, but the lingering thoughts of showing Namjoon what your world has to offer him are much more desirable.

You pull yourself out of bed and stumble into your house slippers, your left foot missing the sock you’d fallen asleep with. You allow yourself to stretch your arms above your head before you walk downstairs, finding the King exactly where you had left him on your couch. Though, instead of sitting as stiff as a board, he’s folded over the arm of your couch with one arm clutching the blue koala throw pillow you’d bought online - You can only imagine how long he sat on your couch holding the same posture before he finally passed out.

You decide to let him continue resting and get yourself ready for the rest of your day. You take a quick shower, doing your face routine in between the shampooing, the conditioning, and the scrubbing. You dry most of your hair with a towel before leaving it to air dry while you throw on some jeans and a sweater and some light makeup to enhance your features. When that’s done, you head back to the living room to wake up the peaceful king.

“Namjoon-” You shake his shoulder gently, not wanting to startle him. You nudge his shoulder and call his name a few times before his eyes flutter open and close, “Namjoon, we have a lot to do in very little time! You have to get up so we can get some food!”

“Have the food brought to my room, Jihye…” Namjoon mumbles, his face contorting as his eyes squeeze shut and his arms pull the pillow closer to him.

You giggle at the way his nose scrunches, “I’m not Jihye, your majesty. You’re not in your time period anymore, remember?” 

The king’s eyes open and you’re met with tired brown eyes. For a moment, there’s an air of sadness as he takes in your appearance, but it leaves as quickly as it appears. He sits up quick and stretches his arms above his head, his white t-shirt riding up to reveal a sliver of skin.

You turn away from him, feeling the embarrassment climb to your ears as you walk towards the door, “You should put your jacket back on so we can go and eat.”  

“Yes! I’m starving,” He says. He follows you to the front door where both of your shoes sit, sliding on the laceless shoes you’d bought for him.

You put on your own before you grab your jackets out of the closet, “Here.” You hand him his and unbunch yours to slip it on.

“Let me!” Namjoon drops his own jacket in favor of yours, straightening the article of clothing for you to put on. 

You only stare at him in awe, “You don’t have to do that.”

“I know, but I want to,” he explains, his dimpled smile gracing his cheeks. You let him hold the jacket for you, allowing him to help guide your arms into the sleeves. The whole time you’re trying to hold your breath, as if even one hitch or loud exhale would give away your thoughts or feelings. His hands smooth the shoulders of your coat down before they're gone and he’s picking up his own jacket, “Good?”

“Yeah! Good.”

It’s only a small walk to the cafe a block from your apartment. Upon arrival, you try your best to figure out what drink would best suit Namjoon’s tastes. He didn’t necessarily have a sweet tooth, but he didn’t enjoy the bitter drinks you’d brought him either. You eventually settle on ordering him an americano and letting him choose a sandwich to eat. Neither of you talk much as you eat together, you instead let Namjoon enjoy the new atmosphere and the view from the window as he eats. It’s when he bumps his plate off the table and sends it splattering against the concrete floor that you decide it’s best to leave for the aquarium ahead of schedule.

You pull him to the bus stop as the bus rolls to a stop, only waiting in the line for a moment before you file onto the bus behind everyone else. As you turn your phone to scan the bus pass on the back of your case, you feel a tug on your other hand.

“(Y/n)!” Namjoon whispers harshly.

“What?” You ask, nervously eyeing the bus driver as you scan the pass again.

“Is this safe?” He asks.

“Namjoon-” You laugh. Of course he would think it isn’t safe. Hell, on the right day you don’t either! You pull him down the aisle to find a seat at the back of the bus to sit down before you answer his question, “Of course this is safe. I know it’s loud and it shakes, but I wouldn’t put you in any unnecessary danger.”

“You’re right,” He sighs. He squeezes your hand, his deep brown eyes meeting your own, “I trust you.”

The words alone are enough to make your stomach twist into knots. You feel warm and tingly and you quickly find something outside of the bus to catch his attention instead, “Look-” You point in front of his face, finding an intricate statue in front of a building approaching, “-isn’t that cool!?”

He turns to admire the sculpture and you take in a much needed breath. Keeping him distanced from you was going to be an issue. Even if you do fall for him and you never take him back to the museum, how would you explain where he’s from? How would he get a job? How would he be able to do anything other than live in your home if he wasn’t a real person anymore? 

“Where are we going?” Namjoon asks, pulling you from your inner turmoil.

You can’t help but smile, knowing that this will be one of the best surprises for the King since you’d brought him his journal, “I’m going to take you to see something you’ve never seen before.”

After quite a few stops and many questions from Namjoon, you finally get off of the bus in front of the tall blue building. Over the doors reads ‘Seoul Aquarium’ in colorful lettering, standing out against the plain white of the sign.

“Aquarium?” Namjoon reads, his head tilted in confusion. He turns to you with his skeptical gaze, “What does that mean?”

“Why don’t we go inside and I’ll show you?” You offer, squeezing his hand that’s still connected to your own.

The both of you enter the building and you’re immediately surrounded by a dim atmosphere highlighted by waves of light that glisten off the floor and the walls. The white walls of the interior are decorated by multiple pictures and colorful murals. The ceiling - high and vaulted - holds a large models of different fish suspended, the portion closest to the ground protected by a small fence in the center of the room. Multiple exhibits lay beyond, but a quick trip through the ticket line holds you back.

You guide Namjoon through the roped off line to get your tickets, but his attention doesn’t leave the main room the entire time. His eyes dance over every detail of the room while you wait in line and as you speak to the teller in the booth for your tickets. Even as you lead him into the room itself, his eyes are still trying to catch every last square inch. With the king thoroughly distracted, you take the chance to look at the aquarium’s layout to see which way you should go first.

There were of course the sharks and the dolphins, they would definitely surprise the king to see ‘a beast’ so large. Then again, there were the jellyfish and the underwater walkways as well, mesmerizing and unthinkable for him as a man of another century. But the intractable exhibits would be so much more exciting for him to experience, being able to really touch sea animals you wouldn’t normally be able to. It’s all so wonderful to think about, but where to start is going to really set the stage for him.

And you know just what will make him happiest.

“Namjoon-” He turns to you, his eyes meeting yours, fleeting to the side to see one more piece of art for just a moment before they’re on yours again. You giggle, “-are you ready to see the first exhibit?” He nods and you lead the way to your first stop. 

On the right side of the building is another line of people, all waiting patiently to enter past a rubber curtain maintained by an employee standing behind a podium. As you wait, Namjoon begins to bounce, becoming restless until he can’t stop himself from asking, “Is this another museum?”

“It is!” You nod, “Only the exhibits here are supposed to be alive.” Namjoon’s cheeks darken and you can’t stop the endeared smile that adorns your own features, “I think you’ll really like this, Namjoon.”

When it’s finally your turn to walk through the rubber curtain, you enter a narrow hallway encase in darkness - save for the glow in the dark tape on the floor. You have to pass through another curtain made of rubber before you finally enter the glass encased tunnel that barricades the both of you from the water that rests above you. It’s dimly lit just like the rest of the building, but the most striking difference isn’t the atmosphere.

It’s the various schools and pairs of fish that swim carelessly around the glass.

Namjoon is in awe just watching the vibrantly colored fish go over him, seeing all kinds of fish of different shapes and sizes only mere inches from his face. He reaches his hand for the glass and pulls back upon feeling it’s cool touch, not expecting it to be so cool.

“How is this possible…?” He asks, his tanned skin lit by the soft blue hues that shine through the glass.

You shrug, “I’m not really sure how they do it myself, but it’s amazing, right?”

Namjoon turns to you, a look of pure wonder and amazement painted on his face, “It’s gorgeous.”

---

It took you almost an hour just to pull him away from the tunnels, but you managed to drag him past the seahorses, the sharks, and the dolphins. Each creature was just as fascinating for him as the other, and every laugh and smile he made had your stomach doing flips. He makes it so hard to only see him as a friend when he’s just so incredibly adorable every time he sees something new.

Now, as you exit the small projector room playing the same squid documentary over and over again, you lead him to the interactive exhibit. Just from outside the exhibit’s entrance you can see the dozens of tanks that stand in the room with an employee at each one. Only a few families and couples are in the room, making it the perfect environment for Namjoon to explore something new. 

“What’s in here?” Namjoon asks as you approach the new room. 

“In here are the exhibits you can touch and interact with. Do you want to see?” You ask. 

He nods and takes the first step himself, deciding to take the lead as a way to show you he’ll be fine. You follow him into the chaos, making your way over to a box about as tall as your knee where Namjoon stands peering over the side. Inside the box looks to be a mountain of sand with rocks and grass at the bottom and various logs and sticks piled up to be climbed on by whatever creatures call the box their home.

You stop by his side and he turns to you, “Can we start here?” He asks.

“Of course!” You nod, gesturing for him to look at what else is inside.

It takes a minute for the tanks contents to register with you, and then you see the movement in the sand. Little bubbles that move before a hole - much like a dozen others that decorate the sand - is formed that reveals the small, white and yellow crabs.

Upon seeing the tiny creature poke it’s head out, Namjoon’s eyes immediately light up like a child receiving a gift. He reaches his hands out to touch the crab in front of him, but he quickly pulls them back to himself. Turning to you he ask, “Am I allowed to touch them?”

“You don’t need to ask me, Namjoon. This is a touch tank, so you can touch anything in each of these tanks.” You explain.

Just like that, the childlike wonder of the King is back and he’s reaching down to hold the small crab in the palm of his hand. The sight is so endearing. To see him hold the life in the palm of his hand with the utmost care and adoration sends your heart soaring. It makes you wonder if you can really keep a line between being his friend and wanting more.

*

*

*

It’s Saturday, the day after your aquarium escapade. You’d had so much fun just being able to watch Namjoon enjoy something he’d never seen before, and he practically begged you to buy him a book about sea life from the gift shop before you left - a sight you didn’t think you’d see from the King.

He spent his whole night in between trying different foods just reading through all the discoveries humans had made since his time, and at one point he even tried to use your computer to do his own research. His thirst for knowledge of his new surroundings seemed unquenchable, and you weren’t sure you wanted him to learn anything else in hopes that you’ll be able to watch his constant excitement for something new.

Now, as you both sit in another cafe enjoying your lunch, Namjoon seems to have come down from his information kick. He sits across from you eating his sandwich in a content silence as he people-watches from his chair.

You focus on finishing your own sandwich, enjoying the sustenance as you imagine how your trip to the shopping district will go. You can’t help but imagine Namjoon trying some of the newer fashion trends, or see how good he’ll look in a hat. Or maybe he’ll hate shopping and you can take him to experience karaoke for the first time. He won’t know the songs, but it might still be fun.

“-(Y/n)!” Namjoon says harshly, breaking you out of your trance. You turn to him, a piece of bread poking out of your mouth. Namjoon stifles a chuckle and it takes you a moment to realize why he’s laughing at you. 

Quickly you cover your mouth as you finish chewing, your eyes trained on your drink rather than your companion. Once it’s all gone, you turn back to the man in front of you, him sitting with his elbows rested on the table and his face resting on his hands as he watches you. You take a quick sip of your drink before you decide to acknowledge him, “Yeah?”

He shrugs, “I was just wondering about something.” 

“Like what?” You ask.

“You.”

“Me?” You look to him for reassurance that you heard him correctly and he nods. “Why would you want to know about me?”

“Well, you know a lot about me, and most of that is thanks to your technologies of this time period, but-...” He hesitates, playing with his thumbs, “You don’t talk about yourself.”

“There really isn’t much to say. I’ve had a fairly normal life, I’ve had regular experiences, I have regular friends…” When you think about your life compared to what his must have been like, you can’t help but feel insecure about yours. He’s lived a far more fulfilling life than you, and it’s not easy to expose just how dull yours is. “I just don’t think there’s much of my life that would compare to yours.”

“And why is that?”

You spare him a glance, totally unamused by his obliviousness - playful or not, “I don’t know if you noticed, but my apartment is the size of your stables.”

He shrugs, “So what? Your life is so much different from mine! It’s absolutely fascinating to me.” You can only guess what he would find so fascinating about your life when he compares it to yours, but the way he looks at you makes you want to lay it all out on the table for him, “Can’t I know something?”

So you indulge him, telling him stories of your childhood as best as you can remember. The time that your Dad was helping you bake cookies and you set the oven on fire, the day that the family dog got out and sent the neighbor flying, that one time your brother got drunk with his friends an you had to sneak him into the house without your parents knowing - something they still don’t know about. Any weird, funny memory that you could recall, you shared with him, and each one made him laugh and smile and it only encouraged you to share more.

“Wait wait wait-” He says, stopping you in the middle of your story and his own laughter, “So he really said that?”

“Yeah! I swear I thought our professor was going to end him!” You say, recalling the memory of your college friend who told the professor if his manhood wasn’t the size of a pea then maybe he’d be a much happier man.

“Brilliant!” He hits the table with the palm of his hand, “My friends that I had when I lived weren’t as quick witted as yours.”

“No?” You probe.

“They used their swords instead of words,” he explains. He contemplates for a moment before he continues, “Though, their swords did get them far for my time.”

“I can imagine.” You laugh, taking another sip of your almost empty drink.

“Have you felt love before?” Namjoon asks, changing the topic just like that.

“Love?” You choke, your hand pressing against your mouth to stop anymore of your drink from spilling onto your shirt.

“Yeah. Have you had any love interests?” He inquires, turning his full attention back to you.

“Once. When I was in middle school.” You shrug, feeling the intense heat of his state, “It only lasted for a few years, nothing too long.” You hadn’t thought about that relationship for a while. You really hadn’t thought about anyone at all except for him, “He just wasn’t the right one.”

His eyes practically sparkle when you mention your past love not being the one. He smiles, “You believe in finding the right one?”

“I believe in finding someone that blends well with you.” You explain carefully, knowing exactly where he’s going with this.

“But no soulmates?” He asks. 

You can tell he’s saying it in more of a joking way to mask the truth behind his actions. You know he wants you to believe he’s your soulmate and you’re meant to be together, but you just can’t go through with it yet.

You clear your throat and stand up, “We should get going. The movie will start without us if we don’t.”

“Right.” He agrees, standing up after you.

Though, you know neither of you are really finished with the conversation.

It’s much later in your apartment that you think about the conversation again. You’re working on some of your online work while Namjoon watches some movies much like the one you had shown him. It never occurred to you that he might enjoy superhero movies all that much, but seeing him cheer on Spiderman through the screen like the actor could hear him puts a smile on your face. 

The other patrons at the theater did not enjoy his enthusiasm as much as you.

Then again, they didn’t know him. They didn’t get to see his dimples pop out when he saw Thor appear on screen. They didn’t get to see him parade around your apartment in the Ryan pajamas you bought him with his fourth bowl of popcorn. They didn’t get to hear him recall stories of what it was really like to live in a time where none of this existed. They didn’t get to appreciate him.

But at the same time you realize, you haven’t appreciated him either. 

It’s been almost a month since he first woke and claimed you to be his soulmate. In that time, you’ve done your best to understand him and let him roam, but you’ve only been pushing him away. Keeping him at arm's length in hopes of not catching feelings.

Yet...you can’t help but wonder what it would be like to give into the temptation of accepting your role as his soulmate.

—-

“We don’t need to get on the bus today?” Namjoon asks, the last of his breakfast in his mouth.

You shake your head, “Not today. I have something planned that I think you’re going to really enjoy.”

“Is it more food?” You turn to him with a look that is usually saved for Jimin or Taehyung and he just shrugs, “What?”

You sigh, “We can get food there, but we’re not going there for the food. You’ll see.”

You loop your arm through his and continue on down the large sidewalk, enjoying the fresh morning air as you walk your regular path. It’s when Namjoon sees the flower beds that he realizes where you’re taking him and he stops.

“You’re bringing me back to the museum?” He asks, a look of disbelief written across his features.

Sensing why he’s upset you’re quick to shake your head to dissuade the thought, “Not just yet! We still have tonight and tomorrow before you need to go back. I just want to show you what you miss during the day.” Letting go of his arm and instead your hand to him, you smile in hopes it will make him feel more comfortable, “Follow me?”

You lead him up the large staircase, pausing at the top to show him the view and take a few pictures before you go inside. A line like there had been at the aquarium is off just to the side, but you drag Namjoon in the opposite direction.

“Don’t we need to follow them?” He asks

“Employee perk.” You vaguely explain, more interested in getting him into the museum and letting him meet your friends, “Come over this way! I want to talk to someone real quick.”

Jin catches sight of you before you get the chance to even call out to him. He waves to his departing guests and turns to wave to you, “(Y/n)! I thought you had the day off, what are you doing here?”

“I’m showing my friend around the museum, he’s never been here before,” You explain, not missing the way Jin looks Namjoon up and down in his light jeans, black turtleneck, and brown jacket you’d picked up for him. Thankfully, he seems to approve of Namjoon and the clothes you’d picked for him, “Jin, this is Kim Namjoon. Namjoon, this is Kim Seokjin.”

Namjoon gives a curt bow, “Very cool to meet you.” 

“Yeah, you too.” Jin chuckles. He doesn't seem to mind Namjoon’s vernacular as he continues to tease him, “So, Kim Namjoon? Any relation to the King in our 3rd floor exhibit?”

“No, my mother was a history stan.” The king explains.

You share a look with Jin that screams “don’t you dare say anything” and he nods with a fake smile, “How fascinating.” 

“Well-!” Deciding that now is as good a time as any to get him out of there, you squeeze Namjoon's hand with one and wave to Jin with the other, “We should let you get back to work, but it was nice seeing you Jin.”

“You too!” Jin waves back with his familiar, bright smile. Though it fades into a mischievous one just as fast, “Don’t cause too much trouble with your boyfriend~”

You don’t comment on his words, knowing that Namjoon probably wouldn’t get the insinuation behind his words anyway. You just drag him along to the stairs to bring him to the first exhibit you’ll be visiting.

When Namjoon sees the familiar entrance cone into focus, he gasps in excitement, “This is the European exhibit! I’ve been waiting to go through here.”

“Well, today is your lucky day.” You say. You pull him into the exhibit's entrance and notice the empty kiosk to the right of traffic, “C’mon there’s a kiosk over here.”

You go to grab headphones for yourself, but Namjoon is faster than you, “Here-” He takes them out of your hand and places them over your ears for you, a tender smile on his dimpled face as he repeats the action you’d done for him the other night. “There you go.”

He puts his own headphones on and presses play on the video, but you don’t listen. You don’t let the words process. All you can think about is the soft smile that he shared with you and the gentle touch of his hands against your head.

---

You can’t deny that the museum is much more appealing during the day. With all the patrons that walk around enjoying the exhibits, the quiet chatter is low and welcomed to your ears. More importantly, the ability to watch Namjoon enjoy the presence of humans is a gift itself. He’s really come out of his shell over the past few days. He’s enjoyed getting to know people again, and being able to practice his use of modern slang - no matter how horrendous it is. 

Only part of you regrets taking him around to meet Jeongguk. You knew Namjoon wanted to meet him, but it was only for him to school the younger man in a history lesson. Not a hard feat, but nonetheless. It was still a very interesting encounter. 

“And this is really what they used?” He asks, staring at the chair contraption for birthing behind the glass. It was old and rusted - not much to really look at - but he found it interesting anyways. “Strange.”

From another part of the room, you hear a familiar voice speak up, “-and over here you’ll all see a replica of a French Gillotine from France!”

You weren't going to pay him any mind until you noticed Namjoon tense up beside you, “Namjoon?”

“It’s him.” He mutters ominously.

“Jeongguk?” You ask.

“Isn’t it pronounced Guillotine?” You hear someone ask, only for the young guide to laugh, “No, that doesn’t make any sense.” 

“Yes.” Namjoon assures you.

When you turn to spot the boy in the crowd, you see him only a few feet away with his group around him, “Why don’t you all take a moment to look around at the artifacts of the room and I’ll be over here to answer any questions.”

You are more than aware of how Namjoon feels about Jeongguk, even if he is just a kid trying to get through college. With him being right there, it would be impossible to really keep the determined King away, especially with that look in his eyes.

“Do you want to meet him?” You ask, hesitant to really introduce the two to each other.

“Please.” He pushes up the sleeves of his jacket and you try your best to ignore the action, “I’d like to teach this kid a thing or two.”

The brunette walks away from you before you can say anything else and all you can do is follow after him and redirect the conversation. 

“Jeongguk!” You call out, moving in front of Namjoon before he can say anything, “I want to introduce you to my friend Namjoon.”

“Namjoon? Like the mummy?!” He asks immediately, getting excited at the mention of his favorite dead guy, “Bro! That’s a crazy coincidence! He could be your great-great-really great-granddaddy!”

“Please don’t call him that.” You beg.

Namjoon clears his throat, clearly not prepared to deal with Jeon Jeongguk at all, “Yes, well, there is no relation. I am, however, what you would call a pro when it comes to the king.”

“Really?!” The boy only seems to get more and more excited with every word Namjoon speaks to life, “You know, I actually have a lot of questions if you don’t mind me asking.”

“Uh…” The king looks to you and you shake your head, unwilling to help him, “Sure thing?”

“Okay so is it true that when he was a boy he would run around the castle dragging hanbok behind him?! A few historians found in journals left in his tomb that that was something he would do. Do you believe them?!”

A hot blush creeps onto Namjoon’s face, “Uh…Well, you see-”

Watching Namjoon try to explain why he may - or may not have done - without giving Jeongguk too much information was an experience itself, but it paid off. You’d have never thought Namjoon would actually enjoy the conversation, but that was just a part of Jeongguk’s charm. Though, you could have done without Namjoon trying to use ‘lit’ and ‘yeet’ correctly in a sentence against the kid that uses the words every chance he gets. 

Thankfully, the observatory is Jeongguk-free, and you’re more than happy to take Namjoon to see the stars. You let him choose the spot, a space far enough from a group of kids so that the two of you can talk quietly to the other during the showing.

“So what is this again?” He asks, as you both settle into your seats.

“It’s a light show that shows you the stars and their constellations.” You explain, “They even show you planets hundreds and thousands of miles away from ours.”

“Your technology never ceases to amaze me.”

“Yeah, it’s pretty great when it needs to be.” You agree. The lights begin to dim and you playfully hit Namjoon’s arm out of excitement, “Oh! It’s starting.”

At the center of the room, the projector comes to life, projecting thousands of dots onto the ceiling. Each one shines and glistens differently, creating an illusion of shimmering like real stars in a night sky. The introduction begins to play, welcoming everyone to the observatory and inviting them to spend the next few minutes enjoying the view of the night sky before the lesson begins.

With this being one of your many trips to the museum’s observatory, you turn to Namjoon to see his reaction instead. Just like the other places you’ve taken him to, he’s very invested into what’s going on in front of him. His eyes glisten in the artificial starlight, and he looks so entranced by the holograms that decorate the ceiling. 

A part of you is screaming at yourself to talk to him. To let him know everything about you. But another part just wants you to keep quiet and stop yourself from getting attached. 

But how can you not want to share everything with him?

You decide for yourself, leaning on the arm rest to get closer to him so you wouldn’t disturb anyone else, “You know, when I was younger-“ He turns to you, “- and I lived in the country, I’d spend every night by my window just to look at the stars.”

“Really?” He asks.

“Mhm! I don’t why, but I’ve just always been drawn to the stars and the mysteries of space.” You admit. You look to the hidden constellations above you and let out a pleasant sigh, “Seeing them just makes me feel at home, you know?”

“I think I do.” He nods, “Thank you for telling me.”

Together you enjoy the calm and quiet of the display, happily listening to the narrator while you sit so close together. No one to bother you, no one to interrupt a peaceful moment. It’s something you’re more than happy to share with Namjoon, feeling much more comfortable than you have before.

Then again, happiness and calm can only last so long when Park Jimin runs the museum gift shop. And right now, y could do without him trying to sell Namjoon every item that catches his eyes though.

“This one is a real keeper! I’m telling you, these pens write like they were made for a god. They’re insane!” Jimin insists, showing Namjoon on a scratch piece of paper just how good they really are.

“Really? And they each have these cool designs?” Unbeknownst to Jimin, Namjoon really doesn’t know the difference between a good or bad pen. He could tell him it had a cap instead of a button and he would be in awe.

Jimin nods, “All of them.”

“Perfect.”

“Jimin!” You interrupt. You gain the attention of both of them and motion for Jimin to come to you, “Come here.” He leaves Namjoon to look on his own and jogs over with a mischievous smile, knowing that you’re frown is not good, “What are you doing?”

“My job.” He says.

You cross your arms, “I brought him here to meet you, not for you to sway him with your manly charms.”

Jimin shrugs, completely unbothered, “It’s not my fault if he falls victim to my tactics~” 

“Oh you are a minx!” You huff, “I don’t see how Yoongi puts up with you.”

“He just makes my schedule and signs my checks. After that, I don’t see him at all.” Jimin explains, bragging more than anything as he begins to clean his counter.

“Yeah, I’m starting to see why.” You mumble. You push your angry thoughts about him away to change the topic so something else. Or more specifically; someone else, “Hey is Tehyung not here? Where is he?”

“He’s sick today,” He tells you, “He called me this morning and asked if I’d keep an eye on his exhibits.”

“And?” 

“And what?”

“Have you?” You pry.

“I love Taehyung. He’s my best friend!” Jimin assures you. He picks up his cleaning towel and throws it in the drawer by his register, replacing it with his phone, “But there’s no way in Hell that I will be spending my free time watching over exhibits that A. Have their own security and B. Don’t move.���

You sigh, “Yeah, I wouldn’t either and it’s my job to watch them.”

“I’d like to get this.” Namjoon says, breaking up the conversation. In his hands he holds a closed box, a box that Jimin showed you the other week.

The box with your necklace.

“Are you sure?” You ask, knowing that the price tag on it was a hefty one.

“Yeah.” He sets the box on the counter and then pulls a handful of cash out of his pocket, thoroughly surprising you.

“Wait, where’d you get this?” You ask.

“There was a nice guy that came in while you guys were talking.” He explains, “He asked who I was buying a gift for and gave me the money when I told him it was for you.”

“Did you get his name or see where he went? I can’t just let him pay that much.” You peer around him to see if the man was still nearby but Namjoon places a hand on your arm.

“He didn’t say. All he said was that I should put it to good use, so I am.” The king explains. He looks into your eyes with a pleading gaze, “Please.”

You’re powerless against his gaze and you nod to Jimin who is more than happy to ring up the over priced package, “One soulmate necklace for the handsome gentleman and his lovely lady.”

Namjoon doesn’t let you carry the bag, he doesn’t even let you touch it until you make it back to your apartment with dinner - that he also insisted on carrying. It’s long after the two of you have enjoyed your dinner that he finally lets you open the bag.

“Are you sure, your majesty?” You tease, earning yourself an unamused frown.

“Yes I’m sure.” He says, handing the bag over for you to take, “Open it.”

You do as he says, opening the bag and pulling out the box carrying the replica of your very own necklace. Lifting the lock and opening the lid, you’re met with the familiar shine of grey moonstones and pink gems held tight by a gold strand. Though, unlike the necklace sitting behind glass, this one has a hidden clasp that is better suited for modern tastes.

You take the shining jewels out of the box and hold it up for the both of you to admire, “It really is beautiful.”

“It’s very convincing.” Namjoon agrees. He takes the necklace from your hands  and gestures to yourself, “May I?”

You're confused until you realize he wants to help you put it on, “Yeah-!” You turn your back towards him so he can place the necklace on you, “Yeah, sure.” 

He’s gentle as he moves his arms around you, letting the jewelry lay flat against your collar before he shuts the clasp. When he taps your shoulder and you turn back around, he looks completely blown away, “Wow…”

“It looks good?” You ask.

He nods, “Come and see for yourself.” He stands up and gestures for you to go look in the mirror with him. 

“Oh…” Standing in front of the mirror actually wearing the necklace, you really see the appeal. How it glistens in the light and the way it lays perfectly against your neck, you’re left speechless. “Wow indeed.”

Both of you stand there in front of the mirror, admiring the way the necklace looks. You had no idea a piece of jewelry could look so right, and now you were glad that if anyone gets to see it on you it’s Namjoon.

“I go back tomorrow? Yes?” He asks, his face head peering over your shoulder in the mirror.

You nod, “You do.”

“Could I-...” He hesitates, “Would you do me the honor of dancing with me?”

Any rational side of you would have said no, but you just can’t stop yourself from running with the moment. You turn around so you can look at him face-to-face, “Sure. I’d like that.”

You grab your phone off the table and let him choose a song, knowing he’s quickly made himself his own playlist since being introduced to the 21st century. When you hear the soft instrumental ring through your speakers, you’re not surprised to hear it’s an older western song from the one Avengers movie. He’d fallen in love with it the other day and had been playing the scene over and over again.

“My lady?” He holds his hand out for you, waiting for you to accept his offer.

You accept his hand, placing your own in his, “Your majesty.”

He pulls you towards him, his other hand coming to rest on the small of your back while you rest your freehand on his shoulder. With small steps you sway together to the beat, letting the smooth sound of the trumpet lull you. Neither of you speak, but the silence isn’t unwelcome. 

Eventually, Namjoon begins to hum. He begins to embrace the beat a bit more, swaying you a bit harder - though not in a rough way - and engaging you more into the song. You giggle as he pulls you against his chest and spins in circles, loudly imitating the voice of the trumpet. His obnoxious noises do little to sway the fun you have, especially when he pulls you away to spin only you instead.

“Namjoon!” You laugh, your hand grabbing his bicep to catch yourself.

“Dada da~! What?” He asks, briefly pausing his imitation to answer you, still insistent on swaying you.

“I thought you wanted to dance?” You remind him through stifled giggling.

“La la-!” He pauses, “I thought this was dancing. La la LA~”

You shake your head and pull your hand away from his, confusing him until you throw both arms around his neck with your head resting on his shoulder. You slow down his excited sways for soft, gentle ones.

“It is, but I like this better.” You mumble, just enough for him to hear you without hearing the embarrassment laced in.

This time Namjoon smiles, resting both hands at the small of your back and pulling you closer, “I think I do too.”

And so, the two of you continue to sway for the rest of the song and however many times it plays after. You take advantage of the moment you have. This moment in his arms. Even if it’s wrong, you allow it to feel right just for tonight. 

“(Y/n)...?” Namjoon whispers.

You pull away, still in his arms but enough for him to see you, “Yeah?”

He doesn’t answer, instead he looks at you. His brown eyes staring into yours. It’s so intense it feels like he’s looking for something, like your eyes are a key to finding a hidden treasure. But you don’t ask him what he wants to say, instead you stare back. With eyes locked, he feels like a magnet just pulling you closer and closer until you finally realize that the two of you have inched too close for comfort. Just a little closer and you could feel his breath, touch his cheek…

kiss him

Without a second thought you pull yourself completely away, faking a cough so as not to hurt his feelings.

“Are you alright?” he asks, a reassuring hand coming to lay against your back and it’s fake convulsions.

You nod vigorously, pulling your body away from his touch and moving towards the kitchen, “I’m fine!” You assure him, “I just need some water.”

“Oh.” He says, awkwardly watching you from the living room. He shifts his weight between each foot as you make yourself a drink, “Did you want to continue?”

“Uh, no! I shouldn’t.” You say without thinking. You curse at yourself before you slowly set your cup on the counter and turn around to explain yourself, “I should really get cleaned up and ready for bed. We have a big day tomorrow.”

He nods, “Right...I’ll get changed then.” He grabs the folded Ryan pajamas off of your coffee table and gives you an awkward, tight lipped smile, “Goodnight.”

“Yeah. Goodnight…” You say back, only the words feel bitter on your tongue. 

You don’t want to say goodnight.

And you definitely don’t want to take him back.

*

*

*

Sneaking Namjoon back into the museum made your return to the night shift that much worse. It wasn’t that having Namjoon back in the museum wasn’t fine with you - you had already come to terms with that. But it was the constant talk of when he could go back that made it unbearable. You weren’t against the idea at all, but your next break would most likely be when it would be impossible to sneak him out.

It was already a mystery to you that Hoseok didn’t have any strange encounters with exhibits coming to life at all. As soon as the sun was down and you made your way back to Namjoon, you could hear their chatter from the other room as well as more chatter from more exhibits. It’s like over the weekend half of the museum just woke up. It didn’t bother you as much as it had the first night, but it’s still a new concept to grasp.

Even throughout the night you only became more and more tired. At one point, you told Namjoon you’d be in the office resting instead of walking around because you just didn’t have the energy. He understood, of course, but it took you a minute to explain that you just needed to rest alone for the night.

You were more than happy to go home after the first night back. You needed sleep and you needed it as soon as you could get it. You even rushed through your morning duties just to get your morning shift in and get yourself out.

It’s much later, when you’re feeling refreshed and ready for a new day that you find yourself walking into work again with a much better attitude. Walking through the front doors of the museum just sends a wave a peace over you and you embrace it wholeheartedly.

“(Y/n)!” You turn your attention to the sound of the voice, seeing Jin jog over from the information desk. You smile at him, but it disappears when you see how worried he looks.

“Are you okay?” You ask, concerned for your friend.

He stops in front of you and grabs your wrist, “You need to see this.” He pulls you after him towards his desk and pushes you into the chair. He clicks away from the Museum’s website to what looks to be security footage of the front stairs. He points at the screen, his finger covering the statue of three giraffe’s that stand at the right of the screen, “Watch closely.”

You do as he asks, watching the video for a few seconds before it looks like the camera glitches and the head moves. Immediately you register what’s happened, though you’re unsure if Jin has come to the same conclusion. You turn to your friend who looks right back at you and feign confusion, “Did the giraffe head move?”

“No! Why would the head move?” He lets out an exasperated sigh and points at the spot of the ‘glitch’ on the screen, “The camera! Someone moved the camera.”

You shake your head and play along, “The only way to move the outside cameras is with a ladder, and I would have seen it on the surveillance system.”

“I know, that’s what has everyone on edge.” He says, “Well, that and the gift shop.”

Your brows furrow in confusion, “The gift shop?”

“Jimin came in this morning and it was ransacked!” He tells you.

“What?!” It wasn’t possible that anyone could get into the gift shop, not even you have a key for the gift shop, “There is absolutely no way anyone got into the museum, let alone the gift shop.”

“I know that and so do Hobi and Yoongi.” He assures you, “They’ve been looking at security footage all day trying to figure it out, but there’s nothing. They don’t know how it happened and Jimin insists that he would have never left it that messy.”

“We’re going to have to upgrade security.” You sigh. It’s not like you haven’t been saying that for weeks, but now you really need it if someone is planning to get into the museum, “If things are happening that we can’t explain, then we’re going to need more eyes.”

Seokjin nods, “That’s what they were saying.”

You shake your head in disbelief, “I can’t believe I let this happen on my watch.”

“Hey, you didn’t do this. We know that. Yoongi actually thinks it’s a ghost.” He laughs.

“What?” You ask.

“Yeah! But I’m not all that surprised.” He shrugs. His indifference, however, does nothing to help you, and he seems to take notice of this as well. The brunette places a hand on your shoulder, “Don’t worry too much, okay. I’m sorry if I scared you, but I’m sure this will all sort itself out.”

“Yeah, let’s hope.” You say, not entirely convinced anything will get solved. You stand from his desk and readjust your things on your shoulder, “’ll see you later.”

You head for your locker first, hearing the news from Jeongguk and Taeyong again before you meet Hoseok and Yoongi in the security room to hear it for a third time. They tell you exactly what Jin had told you, explaining their theories - even the superstitious one that isn’t that far off - and express to you how they don’t blame you for what’s happened. It’s a lot to take in all at once, especially when you have a really good idea of what’s going on. 

Eventually they let you go to get on with your duties, letting you know that they’ll let you know what they decide on. You promise them to keep a sharp eye out, but you know there’s only so much you can do against whatever magic is going on in the museum. 

Namjoon only mentioned that the necklace was a gift and made for his soulmate to bring him back to life so they could spend the rest of their lives together. Not once did he mention he’d be bringing everything else to life too! Then again, he was just as confused as you that first night the other exhibit came to life. If he didn’t know, then you doubt anyone would be able to tell you anything about what’s going on.

All expect for one.

It took you eight tries of running around the museum to find the blonde curator before you catch him fixing his belongings before he leaves through the official employee entrance, “Taehyung!”

He jumps, but smiles bright when he sees it’s you, “Hey, (Y/n), did y-”

You don’t give him the luxury to finish his sentence, however. As soon as you get close enough, you grab his arms to keep him in front of you, “What else do you know about the necklace?!”

“What?” He asks, his attention more focused on your grip than the actual question.

You sigh, “What else can you tell me about it? Is there anything you haven’t told me? Anything at all?!”

He shakes his head, “No! I told you everything!”

“Are you sure?!” You prod, only getting a nod in return. You groan and think for a moment, not letting up on your grip as you think of anything else that could help you, “What was the necklace supposed to do?”

You watch as he tries to recall anything that he hadn’t mentioned before or may have when you were zoned out. His face brightens when he gets something, “The necklace was supposed to bring light and happiness to him and his people! She was to be his light and bring the people to life!”

“Bring them to life…” You repeat.

He nods, “Yeah, that’s what I said.”

“It’s bringing them to life.” You say, sparing no thought to Taehyung as you come to the realization.

“What’s bringing what to life?” Taehyung asks.

“Nothing!” You let go of his arms and brush off his shirt sleeves, “So if the necklace wasn’t with them?”

He shrugs, “I would assume it wouldn't matter. It's love, right? If anything, the special curse on the necklace would need to go away first.”

It’s then that you realize what he’s saying. If you want to get rid of the curse, then you and Namjoon have to destroy the necklace. But if you destroy the necklace, then would that destroy him too?

You open the employee door for Taehyung and usher him out, “I need to go.” 

You try to close the door on him but he stops you, “Are you making questionable choices? What’s wrong?” He’s worried and you know he is, but now isn’t the time to have people worrying about you.

You shake your head and smile, “Nothing at all, I’ll see you tomorrow!”

“(Y/n)-!”

You don’t waste any time closing the door in Taehyung’s face and locking it before he can ask anymore questions. You race to lock every door, double checking doors that aren’t yours just to be sure there’s no chance of any exhibit getting out and causing even more of a mess. You can’t let another exhibit make a mess that you don’t even notice! You didn’t even have access to leave the gift shop open for Namjoon to enjoy. It was completely off limits, yet it was still affected by the power of the necklace like everything else.

When you make it to Namjoon’s exhibit, he’s already waiting for you. Unlike every other night, his smile is replaced by confusion.

“Is everything okay? Why am I locked in?” He asks.

Seeing the confusion on his face only makes what you have to say even worse, “We need to get rid of the necklace.”

Namjoon confusion morphs into anger and his hands grip the gate tighter, “What? No!”

“Namjoon, things are getting out of hand-” You try to explain, but the king wants nothing to do with it.

“I refuse.”

You groan in annoyance, “Can you think about the consequences here? People could get hurt if all the artifacts finally come to life!”

“I’ve thought about nothing but other people for over 1,000 years! I’m tired of taking care of others!” He says, removing one hand to hit the gate with it.

You flinch, but you don’t falter, “Namjoon…”

He sighs, “All I’ve done with my life is serve my people. That’s it. I’ve never had one day to worry about myself until you touched that necklace and brought my soul back to life.” He looks so defeated and heartbroken as he lays his feelings out on the table. You want to hug him and tell him that nothing might happen to him, but you know that’s not what he wants to hear, “I don’t want to lose that yet.” 

You place a gentle hand on the gate where his fingers slip through the bars, resting yours over his, “Things are starting to get out of hand Namjoon. Every night something changes. A new exhibit wakes up and starts causing chaos. The statues outside have been moving too! How long until it all comes to life and stays alive?”

He tries to come up with some kind of explanation, but he just shakes his head, “I don’t know.”

“It’s going to hurt so many people, including us.” You say, hoping if you use yourself as an example he may see reason. But his solemn look is replaced with a dedicated one instead.

“I will protect you. That is my duty as your king and your lover.” He assures you, “The necklace remains the same. End of discussion.”

He removes his hands from the bars and backs away to try and leave the conversation there, but you aren’t willing to let him win, “You can’t tell me you don’t see the problems around us!”

“And you can’t tell me that you honestly don’t feel anything for me!” He cries out, “These past weeks I know you’ve warmed up to me! You can’t call what’s happened between us nothing!”

You know he’s right, but you can’t afford to let him win at a moment like this. Especially when - if you admit your feelings - you have to then admit that you’re willing to give him up as well. “Can’t I?”

“It is my right as a king to be happy.” He says, redefining his position as king with you. He’s set his foot down and he’s making it as obvious as he can.“You won’t get rid of me without me agreeing. Get used to it.”

“Don’t be stubborn, Namjoon!” You scold. 

“I’ll stay in my exhibit tonight.” He says curtly, turning and walking away from you.

“Namjoon!” You yell, hoping he’ll come back. 

But he doesn’t.

He continues past the display cases that divide the room and hides on the other side where you won’t be able to see him. He doesn’t respond, and he doesn’t come back out. The only thing you can do is unlock his exhibit and give him time to think before you come back to see him.

“I’m sorry that we see things differently right now.” You announce to the exhibit, wanting to make sure he at least knows where you stand with him, “I’ll leave your exhibit open for when you get hungry. I’ll leave your food on the information desk on the first floor.” 

No response.

“I really am sorry, Namjoon.” You say, lingering for just a moment longer than you should before turning your back on the exhibit and walking away.

---

Sitting in the security office has always felt boring, but tonight it feels even more so. Knowing that Namjoon is upset with you and not being able to do anything about it but give him space feels like waiting for test results you know won’t come back for a month. No amount of homework or idle keyboard clicking could change that for you, and it just made your night even more unbearable. 

Maybe Namjoon is right.

There’s no way to know that everything that comes to life won’t be friendly or have the ability to calm down. For all you know, they could all come to life and just do their own thing.

But then again, there’s no guarantee that whatever comes to life won’t behave like it does in everyday life. You’ve already seen how the paintings interact amongst themselves and with each other, and there are a few that you’re glad aren’t statues. 

“Ugh!” You groan, slamming the cover of your textbook closed. There’s just too much to think about, and the atmosphere of the security office is too stale for you to keep your thoughts straight. 

You turn your chair away from the desk and stand up, stretching a little before you pick up your flashlight and leave the room. You make your way down the empty hall leading to the main entrance, hearing the soft chatter of exhibits as you go. It’s always normal to hear the sounds echo throughout the museum. You’re used to hearing the wails of children that don’t want to leave the children’s exhibit and the pleas or scolding of their parents. 

You’d rather hear the children over the ominous noises that leave the stairwells.

At the information desk, you see a figure standing where you had left the food. Tall and swaying side to side awkwardly, you can’t help but chuckle at Namjoon as he knocks the pamphlet stand to the floor. He bends to pick it up, and as you get closer you can’t help but notice the clothes he’s wearing. A dark purple hanbok with a hint of blue and white around the collar.

That’s not what you remember him wearing.

“Namjoon?” You call out, closing in on the figure. When he turns to you though, who you assumed to be Namjoon is not even close. Who you thought was your dead king come to life is really a wax figure of a Silla Dynasty soldier you’d seen from an exhibit on this floor on the other side of the building.

“Uh...hi there.” You greet, awkwardly waving to the man inspecting what he’d knocked over.

The man in question doesn’t humor you though, instead he pulls his weapon and points it in your direction, “State your business.”

Your heart races at his demand and you instinctively clutch your flashlight tighter. With a level voice, you do your best to feign confidence, “I’m the night guard. I protect this building.”

“You?” He scoffs. He eyes you up and down before shaking his head, “A woman. How distasteful.”

“Yeah, so I’ve heard,” You mumble, slightly annoyed at the return of misogyny. You take a breath to steady yourself and try again, “If you give me a moment, I can explain where you are.”

“I know where I am!” He yells, scaring you. You see his grip on his sword tighten and you can’t stop yourself from shifting your weight, “You’ve taken my Queen for a chance to replace her, and that’s a sin I cannot ignore!”

“What?” You think to the woman who sits behind the shatter-proof glass in his exhibit, realizing she must be who he’s talking about. You shake your head, “You have it all wrong! She’s not in any danger! She’s no prisoner!”

Now that you think about it, you’re not exactly sure how he got out of his exhibit. You locked it yourself. You know for a fact he shouldn’t be out and about. Yet here he stands in front of you, sword drawn and ready to strike you.

“Oh really? Then why have you trapped her in an unbreakable cage, wench?” He spits. He must’ve already tried to break her out himself, “I will not let a witch like you harm my Queen and not suffer the consequences.”

In the blink of an eye, he lunges forward. You barely have enough time to side step his advances, feeling a breeze as he rushes past you. You run behind the desk, grabbing the umbrella Seokjin keeps there in case of emergencies and running through the other side away from your assailant who follows you. You let out the loudest scream you can manage, hoping that Namjoon hears you as you run around the grand staircase in hopes of losing the man behind you.

You zig-zag in between pillars, running straight and grabbing one to help you make a quick u-turn to throw him off his guard. But no matter what you do, he stays on you. You round the staircase again and hide behind a pillar this time instead, giving yourself a chance to catch your breath.

When you don’t hear his footsteps, you take a hesitant peek behind the marble. Your eyes turn to saucers when they see him right in front of you with his sword drawn back. You turn quick, hearing his blade strike the pillar before he cries out, “Do not run from me!”

“Namjoon!” You shriek, once again hoping the king can hear you from where he is upstairs. You make a beeline down the hall away from the staircase, heading for the children’s exhibit’s in hopes to cut him off, “Help me! Please!”

The entire way down the hall the man stays hot on your trail, cursing at you and demanding you to listen to him. You pass the exhibits, hoping that if his was open one of these would be too. But as if fate is working against you, none look to be open for you. It’s not until you reach a dead end that you realize your mistake.

“This is your final resting place,” He declares, “Take your last breaths with pride.”

“No.” You shake your head, determined to get away from him. You press the button on your flashlight and point it in his eyes, blinding him enough to run past him again. However, you’re unprepared for the beads that litter the floor, sending you careening to the floor and skidding across the shiny tile.

“You cannot fool me, witch!” You hear him laugh from behind you. You use your elbows to push yourself up and grab your flashlight or the umbrella, but both objects are too far away from you. There’s no way you’ll be able to grab one before the man above you strikes. Instead, you turn yourself over to face him, eyeing the Silla Dynasty soldier with a false confidence.

“Your magic tricks are nothing against me, wench. I will be sure to tell my queen as much when I rescue her from your trap.” He divulges, dragging out your imminent death with a monologue. He laughs to himself, “You must think you’re so smart. Too bad your life is mine.”

He raises his sword and you lift your arm, eyes squeezing shut as you prepare for the blow. Only the blow never comes, and instead you hear a clash of plastic rustling against metal.

“Her life belongs to me just as mine does to her. You’ll do well to remember that.” Namjoon growls, his voice much lower than you’ve heard it before. When you open your eyes to see that it’s really him standing above you, you see he’s holding Jin’s umbrella against your attacker's sword, holding it steady to keep it from harming you or him. 

“Namjoon…” You whimper, happy to see him.

Namjoon lifts his leg and kicks the guard back, knocking him to the floor and onto the beads the man had dropped. He turns to you and pulls you to your feet, placing a hand on the back of your head and pulling you in to place a gentle kiss against your forehead, “Run to my exhibit and lock the gate. I’ll be there for you soon.”

“I can’t leave you.” You protest, holding onto his biceps to keep him from pulling away.

Behind Namjoon the man groans as he stands, breaking up the moment the two of you had and pulling you back to the reality at hand. He turns to place his entire body in front of yours and holds his one hand behind him to steer you back, “Now!”

As much as you want to stay and help him, you know you’ll only distract him. There’s nothing you can do to help him any longer, so you do as he tells you and you run. You run as fast as you can and make it to the staircase, running past it to the information desk where the computers lay open and ready to go. You pull up the security feeds and flip through camera after camera until you find the hallway where Namjoon fights the once wax figure with the umbrella. 

It lasts for a few more swings until Namjoon finally backs him into a corner and hits him in the head, knocking the figure unconscious instead of taking him out entirely. Instant relief washes through you as you watch the man fall to the floor, asleep for who knows how long. Just as long as Namjoon is still standing and physically okay, you’re happy for now.

You catch your breath and collect your thoughts as he makes his way back down the hall to you, working on what you’ll say to him in your mind and hoping that whatever you come up with will be good enough.

“(Y/n)?” Namjoon calls from the stairs, surprised to see you at the desk and not upstairs where he’d asked you to go.

You only shake your head, “I know and I’m sorry. I just had to make sure you were okay.”

“It’s fine, I understand,” He assures you, “I actually wanted to say that I-” Namjoon is interrupted by a growl, a low throaty one that comes from the staircase just down the hall, You both turn very slowly towards the sound, and are met with two sharp green eyes of the tiger from the downstairs animal exhibit.

“(Y/n)...” He tries to call out to you, but you shake your head, “Don’t move, Namjoon.”

“I told you I’d protect you.” He reminds you.

You see the way his eyes flicker from the tiger to the opposite end of the hall and you hold a breath, “Don’t do anything stupid.”

“Run to my exhibit and I’ll meet you there.” He promises before clapping his hands together and shuffling to his side to run towards the exhibit’s the guard had come from. The tiger immediately locks onto him and takes off, Namjoon sprinting down the hall to lead it away, “Go! Now while you still can.”

The tiger passes you, but you can’t bring yourself to run away from Namjoon. You can’t bring yourself to leave him alone again. So you take off after the two as well, following them down the hall into the ancient jewel’s exhibit. The whole room is stocked full, large enough to run around with an exit gate on the other side. It’s one of the few rooms to have two gates, and right now you were more than happy for that.

Namjoon and the tiger haven’t noticed you yet, the two run in circles around each other with Namjoon trying to outrun and outsmart him. You take that opportunity to close the gate behind you and lock it up, leaving only one exit for you to escape from.

“Namjoon!” You yell, grabbing his attention as he runs past another display case.

He lets out an exasperated yell when he sees you, “I told you to go upstairs!”

“I won’t leave you!” You yell back, “Run to the gate and close it behind you!”

“No! Not while you’re in here!” He argues, making another pass around a display case.

“Do it!” You demand. You run further into the room and grab the tiger’s attention, pulling it away from Namjoon so you can enact your escape plan, “Here kitty kitty kitty~!”

The overgrown feline takes notice of you, giving Namjoon a chance to run to the doors and pull the gates together again. You lead it away just as Namjoon had done for you, doing what you can to distract the tiger and put enough space in between the two of you.

When you finally get an opening, you take it. You make a beeline for the gate where Namjoon is and grab your keys, “Open it!”

Namjoon throws the gate open and closes it as soon as you pass him, holding it shut while you fish for the right key. “(Y/n)...anytime now.”

“Hold on-” You breathe, flipping through your keys for the correct one, “I almost have it.”

“It’s going to claw my hands off!” Namjoon yells.

“I got it!” You cry, shoving the key into the lock and turning it before the tiger can pounce on the gate or their hands.

The two try to catch their breaths, but more yelling comes from down the hall. It leaves the two of you with only the option to run as fast as you can back to the main entrance to get to his exhibit and lock yourselves in.

“Hold my hand and don’t let go, okay?” Namjoon tells you, making sure you understand with a nod before he pulls you after him. 

The two of you run again, quickly meeting more Silla soldiers and dodging them like you had their friend. Birds and other animals far more inviting than the tiger run into you both, but you only keep running to the stairs. Namjoon continues to pull you along, even as he takes the stairs two-by-two in hopes of reaching his exhibit before anyone else can apprehend the two of you.

Even as you run, you’re thumbing through your keys to find his. You keep up with every step and hold on tight to his hand, even more so when you feel his key hit your palm. He pulls you along and into his exhibit, the both of you letting the other go so you can shut the gate and lock it behind you. 

Namjoon takes your hand again and pulls you deeper into the room, hiding behind the display cases as the other’s reach his gate, “You were right. We have to get rid of it!”

You shake your head, “Then I’ll lose you!”

“You’ll lose me anyways if we don’t do this!”

“I don’t know if I can any more…” Within hours the two of you have changed mindsets, but now there’s no time to think of a new plan. The only thing you can do is hope for the best outcome now.

Namjoon takes your face in his hands, gently cupping your cheeks as unshed tears well up between the two of you, “(Y/n), I’ve waited so long to have you, and I’m so sorry that I didn’t listen to what you had to say earlier.” 

You shake your head, “I’m sorry for not listening to you! You were right. Just like you always are. I’ve loved spending every minute with you, and I don’t want you to go.” Your voice breaks and you can see it in his eyes that it’s getting to him too.

“This past month that I’ve been able to enjoy with you, has been more than I could have ever asked for.” He admits, placing a kiss against your forehead, “But it’s time to say goodbye.”

“No.” You shake your head, “No you can’t say goodbye.” You wrap your arms around his torso and hold him close, squeezing as tight as you can in hopes it’ll block out the sounds of the angry mob outside, “Please, don’t say goodbye yet.”

“You’ll see me again.” He assures you, gently running his thumb over the back of your head.

“Namjoon, please...” you beg, hoping that if he hears how much you really care for him that he’ll change his mind one more time.

But instead he pulls back so you can see his face and he can see yours. Smiling his cute dimpled smile with glassy eyes as he says, “I love you.”

Before you can change your mind, you find the display case key on your keychain and unlock the glass. No alarm rings, only the sounds of banging on the exhibit’s gate ring in your ears as you pull the necklace from its place. You turn with it towards Namjoon, but you’re hesitant to hand it to him. Knowing that when you do, you’ll have to say goodbye no matter what. 

Namjoon senses your hesitance, and pulls you in for a hug. Wrapping his arms around you in a tight embrace and holding you close against his body, he tries to convey every thought he’s thinking into one hug and make it last for a lifetime.

With one final burst of confidence, you pull yourself away from Namjoon and press your lips against his for the first and last time, relishing in the feeling of being so close to him as his free hand brushes over yours - the one holding the necklace.

All too soon, he pulls his hand back a tight grip around the necklace, breaking the jewel into a million pieces. You can feel the magic of the necklace burst free from it’s confines as you feel the kiss you share with Namjoon dissolve away. And when you finally gain the courage to open yours eyes.

He’s gone.

The loud banging is gone.

All signs of life besides yours are gone.

You’re left with nothing but a broken necklace and an empty room where the only sounds you can hear are the silence of the building, the shakiness of your breaths, and the pounding ache of your heart.

You can’t stop the sob that leaves your mouth as reality settles in and crashes down on you that he’s left and he’s gone and there’s nothing you can do to get him back anymore. You weep for the love you found and lost in such a short time, and you can’t stop yourself from wishing you hadn’t pushed him away as you had. From wishing you had appreciated him more while he was here. You cry out to the world for them to hear, but there’s nothing but the silent void that calls back.

Then you hear the footsteps.

They’re soft at first, only a patter. And then they get louder and it’s like someone is racing to get to you. Rationale leaves your mind as you come to the realization that Namjoon is still there! He didn’t disappear as you thought he had!

But nothing can mask your disappointment when you see the soft blonde locks of Taehyung run through the door. Nothing but pain and confusion. 

“Taehyung?” You ask, wiping a tear, “What are you doing here? How did you get in?”

“I had to check on you.” He explains. He kneels down to your level and places a hand on your shoulder, “You just lost your soulmate, I couldn’t not comfort you.”

“How did you know? I never introduced you to Namjoon. No one knew about Namjoon.” You ramble on, trying to think of when you’d ever let Namjoon slip through the cracks. Then it dawns on you, that someone had to have let him in here and it wasn’t you, “Did Hoseok let you in.”

“There’s a lot that I need to explain to you.” He says. You’re confused, but you allow him a chance to explain himself. He had to have something good if it meant he got into the museum and knew about Namjoon. But then again, there was also the mention of the burglar messing with the museum equipment to break in. If anything, you’re hoping Hoseok or Yoongi is with him rather than him being a thief. 

“I’m the moon goddess.” He says.

Not what you were expecting.

“But you’re a boy.” You say without thinking. You pause for a moment to think and retrace your steps, “I mean I’m not judging, but I’m just confused.”

“When I first approached Namjoon he mistook me for a woman and I just never corrected him.” He explains. There seems to be more to his story, but you weren’t going to push it at the moment. “I’m so sorry for everything that I’ve put you through.”

“Why couldn’t you tell me?” You ask. If he was trying to help you and Namjoon, then he should’ve just told you that first night instead of this elaborate scheme to bring the two of you together.

He sighs, “I wanted to, but fate is tricky. I can bring you together, but fate has every right to pull you apart. I really thought this was it this time.”

“This time?” You question. Taehyung freezes, glancing at you and then to the floor in thought. It’s as if he’s having a battle within himself on the inside, something you’ve never seen from him before. “Taehyung?”

“Can I show you something?” He asks.

You raise a brow in confusion, “Show me what?”

“Your past life.”

“My past life?” You repeat.

“This isn’t the first time you’ve crossed paths with Namjoon.” He explains. Gently, Taehyung takes one of your hands and squeezes lightly, sending the room around you swirling in a funnel of blue and gold. When it stops, you find yourself in a wooden room filled with clay pots, water, and rolls upon rolls of fabric. A bed lays in the center of the room, and in the corner is where a woman who looks a lot like you sits with her hands folded in her lap.

“This is your past life with Namjoon.” He says, the thumb of the hand holding yours rubbing the back of it gently.

“I was a doctor?” You ask, taking in the simple clothes you wear as well as the supplies within the room.

“Yes.”

“Miss-” Another Taehyung peeks his head around the corner, only this one wears a woman’s hanbok in a baby blue with his long hair left down to sway free, “-his majesty would like to meet you.”

“Right!” Your other self stands quick, her hands pressed tight against her sides before she follows Taehyung out of the room.

You turn to Taehyung with an inquisitive stare, “Why are you wearing a woman’s hanbok?”

“It’s complicated, just follow me- Well, us.” He pulls you along after him, going through the door that had been shut behind your other selves.

The both of you follow them down the hallway to a room with two guards at the door. When they see Taehyung, they bow and open the doors, letting your past selves enter the room with you following after them.

On a large bed, tucked under satin sheets lay your king, cheeks sullen and heavy bags under his eyes. It doesn’t take a doctor to see how sick he is, and it breaks your heart just to see him in such a state. “Namjoon…”

“Your majesty, the doctor who will perform on you has arrived.” Taehyung’s younger self announces. When Namjoon doesn’t answer, he gently shakes him awake, “Your majesty?”

Namjoon opens his eyes slowly, taking a moment to register what Taehyung’s told him. He sees your other self, and you see a glimmer of the smile he’d shown you only minutes prior, “I-” The king coughs, “I thank you...for coming all this way. I hope-” he pauses, “I hope your trip was well.”

Your past self bows her head in respect, “It was very gracious of you, your majesty. I am honored to ease you into the afterlife so that you may meet your one true love.”

Namjoon gives a subtle nod of his head, “Your words warm my heart...I thank you for your service.”

“It is my honor.” You say, bowing your head in respect, “You should rest now, my king. You need your energy for when you wake again.”

“Yes...I look forward to it.” He muses, eyes closing once again. 

You feel the tears on your cheeks, but your past self doesn’t bat an eye as she turns to Taehyung’s former self, “He won’t make it through the night. Not like this.”

“That’s what we’ve feared.” Taehyung admits solemnly. He allows a moment of peace before a thought rushes to him, “The king! He asked me to make sure you receive all of his items that will be in his tomb.”

“Shouldn’t his servants be the ones to keep track of his belongings?” You ask him, watching as he searches the room for something.

“Yes, but he told me himself, he wishes to have his lover’s necklace with him.” He assures you. He takes a minute, but he finds the box in only a few moments on a chest closer to the door, “I would bring it back myself, but I do not wish to leave the king in his final hours.”

You nod in understanding, “I understand. I’ll take it for you. Anything for his majesty.” 

You watch as your past self reaches for the box to take it back to the medical room with her, but a guard barges in and stops her, “Stop! What do you think you’re doing?!”

“His majesty asked for his belongings to be moved to his operation room.” You explain, your hands quickly moving back to yours sides.

“No one but his royal guards are to touch the necklace!” The guard bellows. He grabs your past self and pushes her towards the door, “Out with you!” Another guard meets her before she stumbles to the floor and the first guard gets in his face, “Make sure she gets back to her room, and don’t let her out until the king has passed.”

“Please, she was just following orders. I heard them myself.” Taehyung’s previous self tries to explain. Unfortunately, for the both of them, the guard wants nothing to do with it.

“When my king tells me what he wishes, then I will his - and only his - orders.” The guard spits, slamming the door in past Taehyung’s face. 

The door closing sends the image into smoke, and when it clears you find yourself back in the museum in the same empty exhibit.

“When they wouldn’t listen to me, I vowed to bring you together in your next lives.” He tells you, his head to the ground. When he meets your eyes, there are tears running down his cheeks, “But I failed again.”

“Tae…”

“I’m so sorry.” He weeps, hanging his head in shame once again.

You only move closer to him and wrap your arms over his shoulders, “I’m sorry I didn’t try harder.”

Together you mourn the loss of a friend

A promise

And a lover.

~ Read Part 3 ~

[cxmetery-gates]

OBSESSIVE TEACHINGS - DARK!TOM HIDDLESTON

CHAPTER THREE: A GOOD SCARY STORY

SUMMARY: With teases and friendly banter, Lynn can’t help but fall under Mr. Hiddleston’s charming spell. WORD COUNT: 2.1k NOTES: Thank you to everyone reading! Dark!fics get a lot of criticism and though the story has not turned into one ((yet)), I’m very humbled by all the likes and reblogs :) WARNINGS:  dark!tom hiddleston, teacher!tom hiddleston

OBSESSIVE TEACHINGS MASTERLIST

"I'M NOT ONE FOR COMPLAINING," I pant– while simultaneously lying with a straight face– dragging my feet up another flight. "But can I ask which floor your room is on?"

Only a step ahead of my slow pace, the male teacher smirks. "Not fond of stairs?"

I shrug. "Not really fond of anything involving exercise."

"I would agree," he glances back, a grin marking his face. He makes a huff, more than likely on my same page, but perhaps better off. He appears to be fit so I'm doubting three flights of stairs is killing him like it's slaughtering me. "But, a morning run isn't the worst way to start the day."

My nose wrinkles. "So you're one of those guys? Gotta make those gains, hm?" I'm not sure where my overly confident attitude is coming from. It's not like me to make comments like these to my teachers, Mrs. Gibbons being the exception but even then I am reserved. Something about being close to Mr. Hiddleston has completely altered my professionalism around people of a higher authority. Hopefully it doesn't last long and I don't run into the principle any time soon.

Finally, after what seemed like climbing Mount Doom, we reach the last step. Pausing, Mr. Hiddleston looks down to me. "You've got quite the nerve talking to your superior like a classmate."

It's obvious he's teasing, so I go along. "My superior? What, because you're a hundred thousand dollars in debt thanks to a fancy piece of paper and you've got a couple more decades on your shoulders?"

"'A couple decades?'" He repeats, quite amused.

I shrug with sass coating my entire being. "Give or take. What are you, forty? Nearing fifty?"

His gives a chuckle. "Try thirty-three."

"Really?" I ask doing a small run down while he looks away. I don't find myself in the company of thirty-somethings all that often but I can't lie; he's looking really good, especially from the backside. Mr. Hiddleston hums, and I'm not sure if that was a positive or negative sound. "You sure? Because I could have sworn I saw some grays up there."

"Oh, ha ha, you're so clever," he mocks, voice suddenly raising just a couple octaves. It causes me to jump but I giggle, feeling a strange girly feeling arise from my stomach. All I can do is tell myself not to throw up from nerves, over and over in my head.

Feeling just as confident, I reply with a whisper. "Shh! There are classes in session! You're going to get detention!"

He shakes his head. Mr. Hiddleston attempts to be serious but there's humor and teases filled between each word. "Funny you mention that: I happen to be the teacher in change of detention this week. And don't think I won't put you there because you're helping me: any other teacher would have landed you a weeks worth just from your comment on my age."

My eyes roll. "As if. You're too nice."

"Are you sure about that?"

"Positive," I reply, a smirk hanging on my lips.

He looks down, given my lack of height, and I move my face towards him comically. There's a smirk playing on his thin lips, the corners desperately trying to form a smile. Eye contact remains steady, but I see it more as a funny, friendly game of domination. A moment passes before he looks away, a small sigh parting his lips. "We'll see about that," Mr. Hiddleston retorts, causing me to chuckle.

From his belt, he wears one of those mini extendable cables that can hold all sorts of keys and chains. I'm honestly not quite sure what they're called. Fumbling with the keys, Mr. Hiddleston flips through several before find the the right one and pulling it towards the door, a thin wire keeping a hold on the instrument. When I was much younger, my mother would wear one clipped to the pocket of her scrubs, but hers was smaller, only allowing another clip for her RN tag. Each night consisted of me as a toddler pulling on the name tag and watching the cord return to the circular piece of plastic, unable to see the thin cable coil within. The small piece of nostalgia sets a comforting warmth in my chest.

Despite the insignificant memory, I snicker at his device. The sight of such a young and handsome man keeping his keys together with such an instrument is dorky, and definitely cute.

"Welcome to my humble abode," he sighs, flipping the fluorescent lights on. I follow him in while getting a look around his classroom.

It's relatively simple and mundane, surprisingly enough. Not like I was expecting red velvet walls or a jacuzzi, but maybe something with a bit more personality. The walls are neatly littered with the typical English teacher posters, from "Best Shakespeare Quotes" to the differences between "to," "too," and "two." There's a blank white board in front of rows of desks and a projection screen pulled down over it. Across the room are a few book shelves consisting of dictionaries, thesauruses, and books worth reading. From the distance I can easily spot several of my own favorite books, instantly earring couple brownie points from me.

I follow Mr. Hiddleston who takes a left, as a wall with a pencil sharpener blocks the right. We walk parallel to a wall which is entirely ceiling high cabinets, all closed to the curious eye. His desk sits catty corner and is much like his classroom: mess free and boring. I consider making a comment but stop myself when I notice a few photos on the filing cabinet. One is him with a graduation cap and gown, his hands bearing a diploma. The next looks like a guys night out with Mr. Hiddleston wearing a (distractingly tight) black shirt and two other men accompanying him. And last, and the one that is set before the others, is a picture of the teacher with an older woman. I can only assume it's his mother. This causes a heart warmed smile to etch across my face. It's always lovely and precious to see older men respecting and appreciating their mothers. My own tells me "mama's boys" are the worst type of man to date because in her mind, they are still children who cling to their mothers for support, emotion and financially. I have to remind her that it's not the case for every man, just for the guy she chose to marry.

"Please, set the books wherever you like." My random tangent gets interrupted by a voice, causing me to jump six feet. Mr. Hiddleston places his stack of books on his desk. I would follow suit but looking at the small space, I decide to give his personal bubble some room and I move to the nearest student desk.

Brushing my hands over my black jeans, I turn around. While the teacher shuffled through stacks of papers, I awkwardly and silently stand close to his desk. Only a few second pass do I actually realize my situation: me with the hottest teacher, all alone. I can only imagine all the jealous teenagers clawing at this chance. However, I have a job downstairs waiting for me. "Is there anything else I can help you with, Mr. Hiddleston?"

His eyes quickly shoot up. "Oh, uh no. No, thank you." Mr. Hiddleston pauses a moment to set his papers down. "I'm sorry for keeping you. I was looking to see what hour of the day I have you, but it appears there isn't one."

My eyebrows knit together at his comment. "Well, you'd have to look for a "Carolyn" if that were the case." I pause for a moment, confusion riddling my face. "Wait, whaddya mean?" Almost instantly, I'm repulsed by my southern slang, despite myself not having any drawl to my words. My voice is basically that of an incoherent cave woman compared to his smooth, charming accent. Aside from this, I feel myself floating; he's looking for a time to see me again. I have to contain a girlish squeal just as reality sets in. He's probably just curious if he actually has me or is considering making a "see you at this time" comment. Nonetheless, my heart skips a beat or two.

"Most seniors take my course as their final English requirement. Are you not a senior?"

I feel myself dimming at his comment. Unfortunately, it would appear reality strikes again. But it was honestly quite ridiculous for me to even consider the reason why he was looking for my name was for something other than educational. However, I simultaneously feel my body lighting up. "Oh, no, I definitely am a senior. I chose the writing class for my English elective. I, uh, want to be a writer so I figured it would help in the long run."

Mr. Hiddleston seems interested in what I have to say. Most tell me writing isn't a career or I have a one in a million chance in making it big. Well, if George Lucas can write the three prequels all alone and still make bank, I think I've got a pretty good shot. "Fascinating! What is your preferred genre?"

With some hesitation, I blurt out, "Fantasy, but also some horror and thrillers. I've tried sci-fi once; didn't work out too well."

"I love a good scary story," he comments, giving me a wink. I take this as a small gesture, but my insides are literally screaming. Never has a friendly wink turned me into a flustering mess. Part of me say he knows what he can do, and if that's the case, he's quite the cocky bastard.

Playing along, I give my shoulder a shrug and coolly reply, "Perhaps I can run a rough or final draft by you."

"I wouldn't mind that at all."

How does such a small statement cause all my organs and two hundred and six bones to turn into jelly?

Brushing my long hair from my face, I peek over at the clock. It's been a bit longer than I expected, the hands informing me I have five minutes left of my first class period. "Well, I ought to get going if there isn't anything else I can do for you?" I make sure to say this in the form of a question. I wouldn't mind being late to my next class just to see a gorgeous face a while longer.

Mr. Hiddleston's lips part for a moment just before clamming shut. The look in his blue eyes tell me he wants to say something, but doesn't. I'm not sure what would constitute such a hesitation; initially, I thought he would have asked me to help shelve the twenty-or-so books. The look is intense, or appears to be, just for a flash, less than a second. My own anxieties begin to shake just as a kind smile grows along his lips. "No, but I do appreciate the offer. Thank you, Carolyn."

I visibly cringe at my legal name, this look not going by the teacher so easily. He bursts a small laugh. "Not a fan or your name, are we?"

Shaking my head, I say, "No particularly. It's a bit vintage. Well, not terribly so, but I'm not over the moon about it." I pause awkwardly, my flustered nerves getting the better of me. I croak out some sounds before finishing my tangent. "I go by Lynn, though."

"Lynn it is then," Mr. Hiddleston announces. "I'll let you get going then. The bell will ring soon and I don't want you to be late on your first day back because of me."

I smirk while crossing over to the door. "Nah, I don't mind." Instantly I want to smack the back of my head. To anyone listening it would sound like I had been flirting with a teacher. Well, to be fair it would have sounded like it not matter what time someone were to jump in at. Even so, this comment I naturally came up with put me in a case of "oh fuck." With reddened cheeks, I take a look over my shoulder so see Mr. Hiddleston unfazed by my comment, thank the holy lord, except a ever growing smile. He takes his eyes off the paper in front of him, meeting me with his pretty blues.

"I'll see you around, Lynn."

"Likewise." And with that, I part down the hall, this time invested in taking the elevator.

☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆

TAGLIST:

@khadineberry​

IF YOU WOULD LIKE TO BE TAGGED, LET ME KNOW!

[srhlsx]

Rewritten & Reposted March 23, 2021

MASTER | Ch. 6 | CHAPTER 7 | Ch. 8

“Hey don’t forget, no morning practice!”

“Yeah, yeah, we’ll remember.”

You, Rumi, and Hana split in a different direction from where the rest of your team was walking home after practice. You waved goodbye at the other group of girls, pulling your bags a little higher on your shoulders as you turned to continue your journey.

“Hey, I’ve gotta stop at the corner mart real fast-” You started to say, pointing towards the store as you turned onto the street the local market was on.

“Excellent, I hope they restocked the juice smoothies.” Rumi rubbed her hands together as she and Hana followed you through the automatic sliding doors.

You grabbed a basket from the entrance and began to march up and down the aisles, grabbing things at random but paying mind to get a good amount of the rare fresh produce available. Hana followed you idly, chatting about something dramatic that was going on in the second year classes, while Rumi disappeared to seek out the drink she wanted.

“Anyways,” Hana waved off whatever she had been saying. “Have you talked to that guy from Fukurodani? I saw you guys exchange numbers or whatever after we played them.”

Your eyes widened just a little bit and you could feel the tips of your ears heat up at the mention of Bokuto, but you tried to play it off with a noncommittal shrug. “Ah, he texted me but I haven’t had a lot of time with everything.”

“Haven’t had time, or don’t want to make time?” You pursed your lips at Hana’s comment. Even though you hadn’t known her as long, she knew you just about as well as Rumi did. 

“I don’t know,” You grumbled, reaching for a few items behind her and refusing eye contact. “There’s just a lot going on - practice, applications, my-”

“Here.” Rumi appeared and dumped something into your basket. When you looked down you saw an assortment of mint flavored candies, you eyed them with a furrowed brow. “For all the bullshit coming out of your mouth.”

Hana chuckled behind a hand while Rumi gave you a very satisfied look. The only thing you could think of doing was you throw the bag of candy at her in retaliation. “You’re the worst, both of you.”

“Well, his friend was fuckin’ hot. What was his name again?” Rumi continued on, looking deep in thought as she cradled the numerous sports drinks in her hands.

“Kuroo,” You reminded her. “And you literally turned him down the night we met.”

“That doesn’t mean I don’t find him hot,” She told you, glancing towards the front of the store. Her eyes suddenly went wide and an excited look etched its way onto her face. “But speak of the devil, and he shall appear.”

You looked over to your friend, confusion clear on your face until she nodded over the shelves towards the door to the corner mart.

The chime rang throughout the small space and a chorus of voices entered your ears. A boisterous laugh, a guffaw really, echoed above all else and as you pushed up on the tips of your toes to see over the aisle, a familiar head of two-toned hair caught your gaze.

Thump-thump-thumpthumpthump. It felt like all the blood in your body was rushing to your head in that instant, a dizzying feeling of nerves and excitement brewing.

You looked over at your teammates with a wide gaze, hoping and praying they couldn’t hear your heart pounding as loudly as you felt like it was. Rumi tugged playfully at your ear, giving you a knowing wink as she walked past you towards the cashier. You followed along, the sounds of voices growing louder as you rounded the corner and were finally face to face with the group of boys.

Akaashi was the first to see you, eyebrows raising in silent surprise when he recognized you. Bokuto was gesturing wildly at something on the aisle end-cap, the other boys they were with nodding and laughing in agreement. Akaashi tapped Bokuto on the shoulder, making him pause mid-gesture, and pointed in your direction and mumbling something you couldn’t hear.

Bokuto whipped around, eyes wild with excitement as they landed on you. His smile, that damn smile, was a ray of sunshine directed specifically at you. It was like he suddenly had tunnel vision as he marched right up to you, leaving the conversation he was having with his friends unfinished. Without hesitation, he grabbed the heavy basket you had in your hands from you and looked down at you with those golden eyes, letting out a breathy greeting. “Hi.”

“Hi,” You repeated, unable to help the growing smile on your face as you played with the sleeves of the hoodie you had slipped on after practice had ended.

“Fancy meeting you lot in a place like this.” Rumi turned around from the cashier and smiled deviously at the group of boys in Fukurodani sweatsuits. “Pretty suspect, don’t you think?”

Rumi and Hana continued to talk to the small group of boys while you nodded at Bokuto to set the basket of goods down on the counter so you could pay. You started to unload things in front of the cashier, the soft beeping of items being scanned the only sound between the three of you.

Bokuto leaned one hand against the counter slightly in front of you, angling his body so he was in your line of sight and just barely pushing up against you. When you felt his chest brush against your arm you looked up at him with a quirked eyebrow, pouting your lips and pushing your tongue to your cheek. 

You hadn’t completely lied to your friends about being in contact with Bokuto. He had texted you, and your schedule was pretty hectic, but you two did talk - a lot - and seeing him in person after some of the words you exchanged made a bubble of excitement form in the pit of your stomach. 

“Why is it,” Bokuto began, fingers finding the drawstring to your hood and tugging playfully. “That when I ask you to meet up after practice or school, you always have somewhere to be. But here you are, with your friends, buying snacks at a corner mart?”

You knew he was only teasing you about continuously blowing him off, but you did feel like you owed him an explanation anyways. The cashier had finished ringing up your items and told you your total, you paid the man and collected your bags then turned back to Bokuto.

“I do have somewhere I always need to be,” You said smartly. “I can’t give you all my attention all the time.”

“Oh but I wish you would,” He smirked, letting his hand fall as you stepped away.

You had turned to go back towards your friends when your phone buzzed. You pulled it out of your pocket and swiped open the screen to see a new text message.

New Message: 6:23 PM

Eiji: nothing spicy for dinner plz

You laughed a little at the gif that was attached to the message, a panicking cartoon character running across the screen with the background on fire. You typed back a quick response asking why and were almost instantly sent a reply.

New Message: 6:25 PM

Eiji: lunch @ school was questionable 0_o

“Boyfriend?”

You looked up and saw that Bokuto was nodding towards your phone, you weren’t sure if he had been reading the conversation - in which case you would be horrified considering the turn it took. But you were surprised with the comment and… is that a hint of jealousy? 

“Not even.” You barked a laugh, locking your phone and shoving it deep into your pocket.”Why? Jealous?”

He nodded his head, chewing on his bottom lip a little bit, looking like he was thinking about something. “Kinda weird to be texting you that kind of… stuff.”

“Well, he’s ten, so…” You trailed off, laughing once a bit of realization came to Bokuto’s eyes. A light dusting of pink crossed his cheeks and you reached up to affectionately ruffle his hair with your free hand. “Don’t you worry your handsome little head, the sixteen percent of my attention left after volleyball and school is wholly devoted to you.”

“Sixteen percent, huh?” 

“Most people get five.”

“Wow,” Bokuto nodded, seeming pleased with your answer. “It’s an honor.”

“Anyway, Eiji is my kid brother.” You added, feeling the need to explain yourself to him again. Why, exactly? “He’s like an old man.”

“Yeah, I’ve never known a ten year-old to talk like that.” Bokuto nodded as you walked along.

“So you were reading my texts,” You mock-glared up at him, not helping but to smile anyways. “Psycho.”

Bokuto threw his hands up in defense and turned towards you again. “I am not too proud to admit when I’m jealous.”

Something about him admitting that he was jealous at the idea of you talking with another guy had your emotions spinning in an unfamiliar spiral. The conversations you held, over text for the most part, weren’t all flirtatious in matter. While Bokuto did have a way with words that made you blush at the innuendos he made, he also was full of insight and deep thought in between the jokes. 

As you thought about what he just admitted to you, you couldn’t help but also think that you too would be jealous if you saw him texting another girl. What happened to not having time for this?

You nudged him with your shoulder, both of you stopping when you came to an intersection. “Oh shit,” You gaped, finally noticing where you were. “I didn’t even say bye to the girls at the store.”

You had gotten so caught up in talking - flirting, idiot - with Bokuto that you hadn’t even noticed that you’d left the corner store without saying anything to either of your friends. Bokuto seemed to be on the same boat, his face mirroring your surprise. You both laughed a little nervously, getting caught up in exactly how into one another you had gotten through such a casual conversation. The reality of the world coming back around you was like a shock to your system.

“I’m uh,” You gestured vaguely in the direction of your home. “I’m that way.”

A brief flash of disappointment appeared in his golden eyes, disappearing as quickly as it appeared. “I’m glad I got to see you.”

You could feel heat creep up your cheeks as Bokuto stepped towards you, reaching a hand up and brushing a piece of hair away from your face and back behind your ear. Such a tender motion had your heart catching in your throat. He paused there, holding your cheek in the palm of his hand, the calloused skin rough but warm. Make a move, make a move, make a-

“I should get going,” You barely whispered over the crowded street, the sound of cars honking bringing you back from your little moment of heaven. 

“I’ll text you,” He mumbled, the gravelly tone in his voice making you wish you had nowhere else to be but with him, like this. 

You took a step back, his hand lingering then falling back to his side. You smiled and gave him a quick wave before walking in the direction of home, brain filled with fluff and fuzz as you moved.

Stepping through the threshold of your home, dropping your bags, and being greeted by your siblings - both talking a mile a minute - you felt your phone buzz again. You looked at the sender’s name and a wide smile formed on your face. You shook your head, typing a quick reply and hitting send, hesitating before you set your phone down.

You went to edit the contact information, deleting the characters for the teasing nickname you had given him when you initially put his information in your phone. You shook your head, slightly embarrassed at how you were feeling, and let out a sigh.

“Oh, Bokuto,” You said to your phone. “What are you doing to me?”

*

[docholligay]

HOLY SHIT Y’ALL THIS JUST GOT REAL REAL, REAL FAST. 

So he wistfully is like, “Oh that’s where she went to school” and I was all about to be like, “BITCH WHO?” (please don’t tell me who) and then THIS

Caps do not bring about what a fucking tonal JOLT this is, and well done it is, I swear to god my eyes fucking widened at the screen when all this happened. 

I am going to go into this but PLEASE REMEMBER: I HAVE NOT SEEN THE FIRST SERIES, OR ANY OTHER PART OF THIS ONE. PLEASE, PLEASE, DO NOT “HELP” ME. 

So I think it’s pretty obvious that the girl in front of him is the “she” we’re referring to. Going back over the moment, I can’t see that she resembles any other person we’ve met thus far, so I have to assume either we haven’t met her yet, or she doesn’t exist in this timeline. 

This whole “I think I’m dying...I don’t want to die” moment is SO FUCKING GOOD. The way the camera chooses to flash on little part of her, the edge of her mouth, her bright blue eye in the midst of the darkness, the way he’s covered with blood in a way that I think must be more metaphorical than realisitic. It’s not hysterical at all, the way she says it, which lends lends it an extra sense of atonality that goes along perfectly with the discordant music going along in the background. 

Then she DISSOLVES INTO BLOOD, and you know that’s because it’s what he remembers, all he can see in this moment, is her turning into a pile of blood before him, and then we see her dead body. 

And then we see her dead body over and over and over again. Has he tried to change this moment? Is this always a part of whatever time line he jumps into? That she dies and he hears her say that she’s dying and she doesn’t want to die, and there is her body in a puddle of blood? Is this an inevitability that haunts him, maybe even more than WWIII? 

And then we see a knife in his hand, and I don’t know if I think that’s literal. I mean, it could be, maybe he does always end up killing for whatever reason, but also it could be that either by action or inaction, she ends up dying, whatever else he does around it, and he sees himself as holding the knife, unable to stop this particular point in time. 

Please note I haven’t seen anything past this OR ANY OF THE ORIGINAL SERIES and am watching spoiler free! Please don’t confirm, deny, or explain anything to me! Even if I should be able to figure it out based on past episodes! Even if it’s cultural! Even if there is no answer! It ruins it for everyone when I get spoiled!

[fatandnerdy30]

The Itsy Bitsy Spider 17

Hope and Scott enlarged themselves as soon as they came in the special door Hank had provided for them. Both of them were heavy hearted for the news they had to tell Hank.

"Hope?" he father called from the living room. "I thought I heard you. Did you bring...oh you did." Hank came walking out into the foyer and made a face at Scott, who smiled and waved. "Hey Hank. It's nice to see you again. OH! Ummm...thanks for the new suit. It fits perfectly." "Of course it does. We've been working together for almost two years. I think I should know your measurements by now. Now, where is Sean? His family is waiting to see him." Hope shook her head, looking sadly at the floor. "We...we lost him. He was killed by one of the doctors that was holding his family captive. I'm sorry..." Doctor Pym was speechless. "How?" he finally asked after a long silence. "There was another man in the room. He took us by surprise when we thought he was unconscious, but he still had enough life in him to manage to pull a knife on Sean and....stabbed him in the back." Hope took a deep breath. She usually wasn't this upset when they lost someone. But, this man had known her father, was her father's friend. She would have liked to get to know him. "In the end, Sean destroyed his files, all his research." took the small tablet out of her back pocket, using a blue disc on it. "We were able to save the tablet Doctor McCleary was holding, but that's all." She handed the bloody tablet to her father, seeing the face he made when he took it. "Thank you," he managed to say around the sudden lump in his throat. His one time partner was gone. He shouldn't be feeling this way, he hadn't spoken to the man in nearly thirty years. But, it still hurt. "Any luck getting in touch with Doctor Banner?" Hope asked. Hank shook his head. "I started to..but I've been thinking, and I don't think I want anything to do with the Avengers if Stark is anywhere near them." "What?!" Scott exclaimed. "So, you'll just leave a kid who used to be normal, the size of a mouse for the rest of his life, without helping? Not even sending Doctor Banner any information on the serum that could have been used?" Hank gave Lang an angry glare. "You have no clue what Stark is like! He's a user. He uses everyone and everything for his own gain!" Scott shook his head. "No. I don't agree with you. I met him, fought with him...he uses his technology to help people, not take them down! You're thinking of his father!" The white haired man glared at Scott, but didn't say anything. Nothing would change his mind on the Stark family. "I want you to bring the boy here, then. If we have him, we can at least tell if the serum is reversible." Hope and Scott looked at him with shocked faces. "Do you know how impossible that would be? Tony has an AI that monitors the entire building, and I'm pretty sure he has things in place for anything ant sized." "Well, I am not stepping foot in a Stark building, even if that means leaving a child the way he is now!" Hank was stubborn, but the thing was, so was Hope. "Well, I'll go into the building then, and have you on Video where you can see the kid, talk with him, ask him questions. Sound good?" "Not really. I don't want you anywhere near the Avengers." "This isn't going to solve anything. Just suck up your pride, Hank and go to see this kid! Or, at least contact Doctor Banner!" Scott had had enough of this. The two glared at one another until Pym sighed. "Fine. I'll go into Stark's tower. But, he's not getting any files or information from me." With that, the man turned. "Where are you going?" Scott yelled. He wasn't finished. "To tell Sean's family the news," was all Hank needed to say. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ The news was playing on the screen in front of the nurses station. May wasn't really paying much attention to what was being broadcast as she did her filing, until something caught her eye. Turning to the television, she saw it was the Avengers taking fire from some super villain that could fly, the footage from almost a week ago. But, that wasn't what she was looking at. One of the camera men turned his attention to the Hulk, who had Tony Stark's daughter in his arms, but there was something on his shoulder. The camera zoomed in a little more and May thought her heart was going to stop. There, sitting the green giants shoulder, was Peter! The woman let out a small scream as she watched the monster grab him in his hand and close the fist. "May?" One of the woman's coworkers came over, worry on her brow. "What's wrong?" "Peter," she whispered. "Peter's alive!" She pointed to the battle on the screen. The woman was unable to wrap her head around it all. Her nephew was alive and was the size of a doll with Tony Stark. The Hulk was shown again, but this time his legs were caught in a metallic rope and he was sent flying to the ground, letting go of the Stark girl, but the camera couldn't pick up Peter. Until the little girl was about to fall to her doom. Her sleeve was being pulled by something, and the cameraman focused in on Peter as he grabbed her sleeve and managed to actually pull the girl to safety. May smiled, tears in her eyes. Just like her nephew to think of others! Suddenly, he was gone, a piece of asphalt landing where he was. She let out a scream and collapsed. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ "First things first." Steve was setting up to start training Peter. It was a little odd not to be using the equipment, but hey, work with what you've got. "We run some tests. First test: strength. Sam told us what you did on that bridge with Morgan, and let me tell you, that was no small feat. So, I want to see how much you can lift." He set up the smallest weights they had, which weren't light, but not too heavy either. "Start with the smallest, lightest one. Then move up until you can't lift anymore. Sound good?" Peter nodded with a smile as he jumped off Mr. Stark's palm, taking off the wrist straps and running up to the weights that were so much larger than him. But, he couldn't be put down by that, because this was his moment to show the Avengers what he could do! Rubbing his hands together, Peter grabbed the weight. Everyone watched with bated breath as the boy lifted the weight with ease above his head. That was ten pounds, no light weight. "Now what?" he asked, not about to just let the weight drop. "Just put it down and go to the next," Steve said patiently. Peter nodded and gently set the dumbbell down, moving on to the next one, which was fifteen pounds. Again, he easily lifted the weight above his head for about thirty seconds before setting it down again. Again and again he lifted the weights, but started struggling when he hit the fifty pound mark. At sixty pounds, he was literally shaking in his effort to lift it. At seventy pounds, he grunted as he tried to lift it, but could barely get it over his head before he dropped the weight, breathing hard, his face red. There were six more weights, so he moved to the next one, which was seventy-five. He struggled a lot with this one, this time barely getting it off the ground before he collapsed to his knees, panting. Peter felt the ground rumbling so bad he actually fell over, only to be met with several adults, all of them looking down at him from their towering, skyscraper heights. It was scary, but the boy couldn't move at the moment. Tony knelt down first. "You okay, Spiderling?" When the boy nodded, he smirked. "Well that was one helluva show, Thumbelina. Feel like you could do a little more?" Peter nodded. "Yeah...let me just catch my breath?" He let out a gasp as he was grabbed around his middle by two large fingers and lifted from the ground. A water bottle cap was thrust into his hands filled with sweet, blissful water by a smirking billionaire. The teen couldn't thank Mr. Stark before he started chugging the liquid down, not stopping until it was empty. "That's much better, thanks." He sighed. "So what's next?" "We want to see how well you're able to stick to things," Bruce came forward, excitement in his voice. "We've seen you in action on certain objects, but we want to test in what climate you would stick. Like, can you stick to wet surfaces, frozen surfaces, things like that. Can you handle it?" Peter nodded, but then paused. "I think the chemical should be done by now, too," he said thoughtfully. "But, I have nothing to put it in and I really wanted to test it out. I mean, I have something to put it in, but no container since I didn't have time to measure it yesterday while I was building the shooter." Tony smirked and held out his hand to Banner, dropping the teen into the doctor's palm. "Yeah, I already thought of that. While you two were playing mad scientist, I made something for the kid. Be right back." Peter gave Doctor Banner a confused look, to which the man just shrugged. "I can never tell what Tony's thinking," he replied. While they waited for Tony to come back, Bruce let Peter off his palm to stick to the nearest wall. The entire group watched in fascination as they small boy climbed all the way to the top of the ceiling. Wanda followed when he got too high as a safety precaution, ready to catch the boy if he fell. But, Peter had all his concentration on his hands and feet, making sure they stuck to the surface of the smooth wall. When he turned to look down, he was met with the smiling face of Wanda, who waved to him. "How long do they want me to stay up here?" he asked, and the girl repeated down to the others. "You can come down any time you want, son. You didn't even have to climb that high," Steve laughed, imagining Peter's blush. "Well that's something you should have told me," Peter grumbled. He wanted to test his own abilities too, and someone was there to catch him just in case. So, he turned around and slowly let his hands off the wall and straightened out so he could just walk down the wall like it was nothing. A few times he had to catch himself because of the weird angle, but he was sure it was a pretty cool sight. And it helped him understand that he could stick to more than just metal this way. "Reminds me of when we first rescued him," Natasha laughed. "Freaked Tony out so bad to see him just walk down his suit." Peter grinned at the memory as he stepped onto the floor. "I wasn't sure I could do it, because I had never used my new abilities before Mr. Stark came into the lab. I had been hiding under the table they put my cage on, sticking to one of the table legs after they..." Peter stopped himself, unable to think about what the soldiers did back then. It seemed like so long ago, but it had only been two weeks since then. "It's okay," Bucky said, kneeling down. "I understand more than anyone how messed up Hydra can be. But, if you ever want to talk about it, just let me know and I'll be there to listen." Peter smiled up gratefully at the man and nodded. "Thank you," was all he said, and that was all that needed saying. "What did I miss?" Mr. Stark asked as he walked back into the room holding a brown bottle and something in his fisted hand. "Well, Peter just climbed up to the ceiling and literally walked back down," Sam said. "Freakiest thing I've ever seen, and I fought Ant-Man." "Friday, turn the sprinklers on the wall please," Steve asked and suddenly Peter was almost swept away by the river streaming down the wall and onto the floor. "Woah!" he cried, falling on his butt and just going with the current, that is until Rhodey reached down and plucked him from the water like a drowning bird. "Easy there, Spider-Head," the man laughed, though it felt weird to have a something so small actually literally sticking to him. "A little warning next time, Cap?" he asked the wincing blonde. "Th-thanks Mr. Rhodes." "Hey, you don't have to call me that, kid. Just call me Rhodey, okay? That's what everyone calls me anyway, except when I'm at work, then they call me Mr. Rhodes, or General." Peter's face was priceless when he told him that, his eyes wide and his mouth shaped like the perfect 'O'. "You're a general? That's amazing!" He hadn't ever met a general before, and he had a million and one questions, but they were interrupted by Mr. Stark literally grabbing Peter from the man's hand. "Okay, time to see if you stick." Tony said with a smirk, the teenager squirming in between his pointer and thumb. He pressed the boy to the wall and waited a minute before slowly bringing his hand away, but keeping one palm up under him just in case. And Peter was glad for the hand, because the minute Mr. Stark let go, he slipped at least a foot-to him-down the wall before he was able to feel his fingertips grip. "Phew, that was close," he laughed, looking back to see the giant adults watching him with worried faces. "I'm okay, just took a minute. I'm gonna start climbing now." And Peter did just what he said he was going to do. But, he didn't get very far before he lost his concentration, thinking about how well this was going, and he fell. Tony was glad he'd had his hand out, because the kid fell right into the center of his palm, face pale and eyes squeezed shut. "You okay, Pete?" Peter opened one eye, then let out an explosive breath and nodded. "Yeah, yeah....I'm good...just lost my concentration for a second." "What do you mean?" Bruce asked, coming over to inspect Peter for any injuries. "Concentration?" Peter nodded. "Yeah. It's like, when I focus on sticking to things, I do it, even if it's in the back of my mind, as long as I'm thinking about it, I can do it. I don't really know how it works, but it does. I think anyway. I wasn't really able to use my abilities back in the lab, spending almost all my time in that cage, at least until Sean came in. He let me out and set up a little obstacle course for me to use for exercise." The team all had the same look of pity on their faces, to which Peter freaked out at. "It-it's no big deal!" he cried, eyes wide. "I'm not in there anymore, so that part of my life is over!" He was telling the truth about that. His life had gotten better than it ever had, even with May. Sure she was great, but ever since they lost Ben, he'd lost a father figure of sorts. But, now when he looked around the room, he had so many male role models. But when he looked at Mr. Stark, he almost felt like the man was his father in a way. He couldn't explain it, but whenever the man held him in his hands, he felt....safe. Protected. And in a way, loved. He liked feeling that way. "Boss," Friday's voice came from the ceiling. "Happy says there's a woman screaming at the gate of the Compound. She says her name is May Parker." Peter's face went white as he looked up at Mr. Stark with horror. Aunt May was here!?

@sparrowrider @letsbeinspiredby @6inchicon @ixlovexirondad @carttorchdeatth

[ambwimagines]

NCT 127 on Wash Day

For my curly 4C cuties 

Mark Lee

Mark Literally just wants to play in your hair. You didn't let him for weeks because you were trying to maintain your flexi-rod curls for as long as possible. You dreaded wash day for obvious reasons. It meant spending time bent over a sink for a fraction of the time compared to how much time you had to spend with your hands over your head. All to tend to the natural bushel of 4C hair that everyone loved. “Mark, I have to wash my hair, don’t come anywhere near me.” You tell him sternly. “Aww come on babe, I really wanna help.” You reminded him of what happened last time he ‘helped’ you wash your hair. Somehow he almost set the whole apartment ablaze. Oh yeah, He was heating the olive oil for your hot oil treatment on the stove. “You said you forgive me for that, right ?. Then let me help with your hair. this is literally what boyfriends are for.” Mark says while walking towards you. “Fine” you succumb to his want. “But if you burn up something, or yank out my hair again it will be your first and last time messing with my hair.” You say to mark walking over to the sink. “Don’t worry, this will be the smoothest wash day you have ever had.” Mark says grabbing the bottle of shampoo and ushering you to bend over the kitchen sink. He turns the faucet on and grabs the sprayer accidentally spraying you right in the face. “Mark, just don’t make me go bald okay ?” You ask looking up at him.

Lee Taeyong

 He makes your wash days feel like events. Very special times that reoccur within your life that he’s very happy to be apart of and re-experience with you. You call and tell him that you’re washing your hair because he demands it of you. He comes bursting through the door with all kinds of new nourishing goodies for your hair that you can try. “You said you wanted to do a protein treatment  on your hair so I got you some protein packs, and you would like for your hair to retain more moisture so your curls will be more nourished so I got some supermoist (TM) technology conditioner. Its leave-in, and finally I got you another wide-tooth comb, some shower caps, more coconut oil, and a bottle for the oil, and last but not least some rubber bands.” He says promptly breathing after. You were about to cry, you literally couldn't ask for a better person to help you handle your hair. “Taeyong, you’re a life-saver” You hug him and kiss his face repeatedly. He loves helping you wash your curly beautiful hair. He just loves your hair period.

Moon Taeil

Taeil comes home from practice and looks for you all around the apartment. He finally comes to find you in the shower working your fifth handful of shampoo into your hair. You stood under the shower head in a bathing suit tiresomely massaging the shampoo into your scalp feeling the suds under your fingernails. Taeil just starred at you in the doorway like you were an alien. “What are you doing Y/N ?”. “I am washing my hair” you simply state. “With that much shampoo ? that looks like half the bottle.” Taeil asks. “I have a bunch of hair that accumulates a lot of dirt, and that in turn means using a lot of shampoo to clean it.” You tell him. “Well you want some help  ?”  He shyly offers. “Yeah,  In fact when I get out you can put some conditioner in my hair.” You say. “I actually mean’t right now but I can help you later too.” He says. “Not right now you nasty.” You retort playfully. He unexpectedly runs into the shower fully clothed and grabs you and tickles your stomach repeatedly. “Stop Taeil” You shout through your laughter. “Still want me to wash it ?” Taeil asks rhetorically.

“I should make you just because” You say in a playful tone stepping back under the faucet.

Johnny Suh

Johnny much like almost everyone else is infatuated with your curly hair. Usually you wear protective styles like braids and such but today you decide you’re going to do a silk press on your hair. The process is long and tedious with not that many steps. But you must take care in each step. Like when you blow-dry your hair it must be bone-dry before you straighten it. Other wise you will sear your hair. You have to use the comb-chase method to get every strand as straight as possible in one pass. Before all of that though you had to wash your hair and that’s when Johnny came in and caught you in the mist of preparing and gathering all the things. “What you doin Y/N” ? he asks sipping his coffee. “I’m getting my stuff for wash day” you answer him. “I’m gonna silk press my hair.” Johnny stands there for a while watching you as you walk back and forth getting everything you need. “Let me help” He says hoping you say yes. “Have you ever washed hair before “? you ask. “I’ve had my hair washed before.” He says confidently. A few minutes in and things are going smoothly. He has not done anything wrong yet. “Don’t you comb next”? Johnny asks picking up the big-tooth comb. “Yes but not before I put in my condi-...” You were cut off by the pain of Johnny trying to pull the comb through your thick coils. “Ah Johnny !” You yelp as he tries his best to pull the comb out of your hair. “Johhny you have to put conditioner in my hair other wise it will be hard to get the comb through.” You tell him. “Sorry babe, I thought you comb first” He apologizes. You reach for the conditioner but it falls off the counter and drops out enough product for the both of you to slip in trying to save the rest of the contents in the bottle. Johnny falls on his back and you fall right on top of him. You both laugh and you let your head rest on his chest letting your wet curls cascade down your face. Johnny pulls your curls out of your face to kiss your forehead. “Have I ever told you how cute you are when you wear your hair like this.” Johnny says. “Yes Johnny, you tell me all the time” you laugh through your statement while you try and get up from your position. Johnny pulls you back into his chest and wraps his arms around you. “We should stay like this”. He says. “You wish, I literally have 9 hours left to do my hair and I need all of it.”

Jung Jaehyun

Jaehyun was definitely a jack of all trades. He was super skillful. He always knew what to do and how it really should be done. He just executed everything perfectly with little to no mistakes. Today though you think you may have found the one thing he was not all that good at. "I think I found your weakness" You snarkly said to Jaehyun watching him struggle with the slippery shampoo bottle. "Y/N I got this." He states confidently while grabbing a firm enough hold to the bottle and dropping it once again. You snicker a little, your hand over your mouth to hide your smile from a discouraged Jaehyun. "Not as easy as it looks huh ?" You ask outright laughing right after. Jaehyun looks up at you with a frown but then a smile."You just wait, I will master washing your hair." Jaehyun says. You walk over to him hug him and kiss his forehead. "I believe in you Jae Jae" You endow him with his new super cute nickname.

Win Win

Win win was so freaking cute .His curiostiy was just the cutest. He was just curious about you and every new thing he found out about you was just another reason to love you. So when he found out what your real hair looked like. His face lit up with adoration for you. It was a milestone you reached in this relationship with him. You didn't really want for guys to see your real hair until a little later. Now it was different because win win has seen it and you didn't care because he loved it so much. You smiled when you saw his face as he peered back at you. "Can I help ?" Win Win asked of course. "Sure" you obliged him. He rushed over to you with the biggest smile on his face. "Your hair is so pretty, like a million perfect coils popping out of your head"

Kim Doyoung

A.K.A your personal walking wash day playlist. He just had such a delightful voice and when you both met he told you that he just wanted to use his voice to help make things a bit easier for people. So when you're doing difficult tasks or just boring duties alike Doyoung always shows up with his amazing voice and a couple of things to help pass the time. Unfortunately he couldn't be there that day to help he had to be gone all day. So he just left you a voice message of him singing your favorite songs. His 56 minute message got you through washing, conditioning, and drying. The first phase in which you can actually sit down. You were under your dome drier with your head lulling to doyoung's sweet voice singing 'So Beautiful' By Musiq Soulchild. When you were done with your hair you put your bonnet on, cleaned up, gathered up all your beauty products putting the stuff in it's respected place. You crashed on the couch due to lack of energy. A light shining in from the hallway an equally tired Doyoung appears propping his body against the door way. "Hey love, did you get done ?" He asks endearingly. "Yeah" You say pointing to your bonnet. He sits in the chair next to the couch and he let's you come massage his shoulders while he drifts off to sleep.

Yuta

Just another beautiful day in the city. Just a day that you have to spend doing something. Yuta was at practice and you were off. You were in the middle of rinsing your hair. Suddenly your phone rang and it was Yuta's face on the screen. You answer it abruptly. "Hello" you say. "Hey, I left my practice shoes over last night could you bring them ?" He asks. "Sure" you say unable to tell him anything different. You throw on your shoes and do your best to ring out your hair. A few minutes you pop in and run to their practice room. They were in the middle of taping the dance practice video. You run in and quickly scan the room for yuta. You run quickly across the floor unintentionally getting in the shot. You give him his shoes and run back to the exit. Later on that night they were going over the footage. One of the editors point out someone running in the background. "Whoever they are their hair is absolutely gorgeous" the editor says.

Haechan

Hanging with him and the dreamies we're always fun. Until your quality time and wash days ran together on you. A reminder popped up on your phone. 'wash day' was imprinted across the screen. You rolled your eyes and let out a displeased grunt. "What's up buttercup ?" Haechan asked you. "I have to go wash my hair" you simply told him. "Can't be that hard can it ?" He asked. "Not hard, just boring." You say. Haechan had an Idea. "What if we could make it fun ?" He said letting his words hang in the air. "Maybe" you say. He grabs your hands and drags you all the way back to your apartment. Grabs your basket full of your products. He puts them on your kitchen counter. "So what do you do first ?" He asks." "I wet my hair first." You tell him timidly not sure of what he's gonna do next. He runs over to the sink grabbing the hose. "Okay" He says before turning on the faucet. He aims the hose at your hair and just sprays. You yell with your arms in front of your face protecting yourself from getting wet. At least trying. Haechan laughs at you while you're trying to fathom what just happened. In the fit of his laughter you grab the hose aiming it at him. "Yah Y/N!" He screams you keep doing the same. He wraps his arms around your waist. In a light tackle like motion. You both just laugh at each other being soaked. He grabs towels to clean up the water. "You know your hairs really pretty when it's wet, all wavy." He says while you both are clean. "Yeah, thanks for making it like this Haechan." You say sarcastically while flicking a bit of water at him. "Yah" he says picking you up and putting you back down.

Jungwoo

So sweet and such an amazing boyfriend. So great and caring. So when the day would come to do your hair. You look in the mirror pushing your hair around. Pushing it around to one side and another. Just leaving it and putting your head back. This bushel of unruly hair on top of your head. It really could be worse thankfully it's not. Jungwoo comes up behind you back hugging you. He rests his head in the crook of your neck. "You okay?" He asks. "Just a bad hair day is all" you tell him. "It doesn't have to be" he says. You haven't worn your natural hair in it's natural texture in a while. You wash your hair in the shower and condition it once you're out. You do a quick wash and go using a gel that accentuated your curls. Scrunching up your curls in your hand you see jungwoo leaning against the doorway and starring at you. "I just can't see a place without you." He utters. You smile letting your head drop. He comes closer to you back hugging you again. Jungwoo plays with your curls. "You're so perfect" he says to you. So sweet to you. Sometimes the world can make you feel like you don't deserve anything that makes you feel remotely happy. Then there's Jungwoo. He just wants for you to be happy anyway. Despite what people say about you. Despite the ways they choose to insult you. He loves you through all of it. He's yours and you are his. "Y/N I love you so much." "I love you more." You tell him.

I know I'm late but HAPPY NEW YEAR. So much has happened but I'm glad I got around to finishing the first scenario of the new year. I got a job finally. I took the semester off but I will go back in the spring. I will still work out a schedule so I can actually be consistent. Other than that thank you for coming back to my blog and reading and supporting and I love you all

-Kayla

[gryffinclawinthetardis]

Fantastic Beasts Thoughts

Well, it’s been a while, my dudes. I literally saw the new Fantastic Beasts movie two days early at a special screening and am still only getting to this now. The thing is, I wanted to organize my thoughts and make sure I wasn’t being overly critical before I said anything and...I don’t think I was. The movie was a mess guys.

On the plus side, sitting with these thoughts also put me in a place where I actually think it’s would have been fixable, and I’m going to tell you how for literally no reason. Just stick with me, guys. And there will be spoilers.

1. Cut half the plots of this movie:

Credence looking for his family is all fine and well, but does not help this movie at all. Seriously, I understand they are trying to further the plot point of him wanting to be somewhere he belongs from the first movie, but couldn’t he just be trying to live a normal life in the wizarding world and learning to control his magic and Grindelwald constantly sending people after him is derailing that, making him a threat and causing the Ministry to also want him? Then we could have Credence back and not have the weird magic circus story that exists for no real reason and the moments where we stop the movie short to show a conversation with a random nanny who gives a tiny bit of exposition and then dies. We could also focus more on Grindelwald’s actual followers and power.

 Also, the side plot of Dumbledore literally being unable to fight Grindelwald, totally pointless (I’ll get to more on that one later). He could’ve just had the Ministry watching him because they think he’s searching for Credence and they have conflicting hopes for him, and have sent Newt to find Credence before Grindelwald because Newt wasn’t being watched, and boom, reason Dumbledore doesn’t go after Credence himself. 

So, basically, just have the movie about Grindelwald still trying to remove the Obscurial from Credence, and Dumbledore trying to cure Credence, and the Ministry trying to kill the Obscurial by any means necessary and you have one cohesive plot that you can show Newt using beasts to help him along the way and have Credence back, and have Grindelwald be a threat and all the side plots are pretty much flushed.

2. Better explanations: 

So I’ve heard a lot of people confused about things that happened between this movie and the first. I, myself, don’t understand the sudden jump to Grindelwald telling his followers Credence is the lost Lestrange boy. I’m assuming he just went with the flow when someone brought it up?? But I’d love a clear answer to that. I’d love a clear answer to Why Credence joined a circus in the first place. Or why Queenie turned psycho so quick (That’s also talked on more in the next point). What’s up with Grindelwald’s weird hookah magic? Please explain the series of events that led to that opening escape scene. Why didn’t he just duck out on that dude who switched places with him? He certainly didn’t seem particularly useful anyway. None of these questions are answered, and I’d love if, for all the exposition in this damn movie, we could get useful answers.

3. Don’t 180 established characters for lazy plot reasons:

Okay, we all know who I’m talking about. Queenie was established first movie to be very empathetic and, mostly even despite her seemingly air-headed demeanor and whimsical attitude, an amazingly resourceful and adept witch. So why, when the second movie rolls around, is she suddenly crazy, and then triggered by the word crazy?? She literally kidnaps her boyfriend and tries to trick him into marriage and when he’s not even mad, makes solid logical points as to why they aren’t married, and thinks at her that she’s being a bit crazy (which she is as far as we can tell), she acts like he’s in the wrong and runs off?? The chick we see this movie is not Queenie. Even worse, there is no explanation for why she is losing it, and not being as understanding as we know her to be. Not to mention, making her crazy actually diminishes what they were trying to do. How much more terrifying and awe worthy would it have been if, instead of turning a crazed woman to his side, Grindelwald took our original Queenie and turned her to his side? Or, even better, how about that plot point not exist at all? 

4. Let Dumbledore be gay:

This one is just annoying. Honestly, why couldn’t they have just let him be hesitant to go after Grindelwald because he’d loved him once? Why is that so hard to do? Why mention it if it means nothing to any of the established canon for mainstream audiences? I’m just disappointed in this one. If they had dropped the whole blood oath crap and just let him have the moment in the mirror where it’s just them, that would’ve been enough for me to not be as mad as I am.

5. Stop ruining established canon for pointless fan service: 

I’m talking to you McGonagall and Nagini. There is a right way to do fan service, Nicholas Flamel and going to Hogwarts to see Dumbledore where examples of that. Giving us lore and then taking a giant dump all over it is not. McGonagall should not have been at Hogwarts, you literally have five movies to bring her in and this was the wrong one to do it in. You wanted to show through the raise of Voldemort, so wait for that to show McGonagall. Don’t shove her in early for literally no reason at all. 

Also, let’s talk about how dumb Nagini existing this movie was. She does absolutely nothing to further this plot. She’s just there, making sad eyes at Credence and turning into a snake. She has so few lines, the movie would literally barely be any shorter if she never said anything at all. Every scene she’s in could’ve gone exactly the same without her, with the most minimal changes. Have Credence escape the circus on his own (or subscribe to my idea and don’t do that circus thing at all). Have Tina be the one asking him not to go with Grindelwald since they already have an established rapport, and boom, movie is literally hardly any different (once again, unless we go with my plot). 

6. Don’t waste interesting characters:

Newt’s brother, Thaddeus and his fiancee Leda actually seemed to have pretty good chemistry with Newt, and they did this really clever thing where we see how uncomfortable Newt is with them which makes us realize how close he really is to Tina, Queenie, and Jacob in the first film because it’s a vast contrast to how he is with his brother and former best friend. Then they go and give neither of them anything to do the whole movie and cap it off by killing Leda off at the end. I’m not gonna lie, her talents were wasted, and to make matters worse, I don’t actually care enough about her by the end of the movie for the the death to cause me sadness. Something compounded by the fact that it comes in the wake of Queenie’s betrayal, which is by and large more upsetting. Explore Newt’s possible feelings of abandonment by Leda. Have her have a useful job, one that maybe makes her privy to info about what the Ministry is up to and pass it on to Newt or Dumbledore. Something! Anything but that dumb convoluted sibling plot line that reeked of ignorance and poor taste. 

Also, give Thaddeus more to do. Explore his dynamic with Newt more. Have him more torn about siding with his brother and Dumbledore or siding with the Ministry. He does little else, besides telling Newt the Ministry is watching him (something that presents no hindrance to Newt and his travels whatsoever), and looking worried or strained in places with the other Aurors. Have his job as Auror conflict with Newt’s plans more. Have him chasing his own brother. Like, give him something to do. 

7. Flashbacks or Exposition, not both:

I don’t have much to say other than it halted the movie to show us stuff we were already told. Either show or tell, don’t do both.

8. Make Grindelwald more of a threat:

He doesn’t actually do much in this movie. None of his speeches seem that charismatic. The way he interacts with his followers doesn’t seem very charismatic. We get a lot of people telling us he is, but I never see it. He kills some people who aren’t prepared to fight him, and he has a single fight scene which was actually pointless because he should’ve just escaped and left a dude to die in his place which would’ve shown his real menace at least a bit more than what we got. The running joke is, nobody really knows what the crimes of Grindelwald are this movie. I mean, yes there is the obvious stuff: murder, gathering without a permit, escaping police custody, maybe some secrecy issues?? But for a movie literally named for his crimes, there is still a surprising lack of actual bad stuff he does.

He has one really clever moment and it doesn’t happen until the very end of the movie so it honestly feels too little too late. I will mention that it’s a great example of how well matched he a Dumbledore were though, because we’re led to believe they both knew what would happen if the Aurors showed up at his rally. It’s honestly his best moment, in my opinion.

9. Don’t do that ending you did: 

It’s dumb. It’s terrible. It better be a lie. Once again, it takes a dump on well established canon to do something that isn’t even necessary. i just...no. Don’t do any of that you did. 

[avaalons]

Chris Evans Fic: Disney Princess Series Part 4 (The Aftermath)

Part 4 of the Chris’ Disney Princess series!

The previous three parts are available on my masterlist.

HELP REQUIRED: If anyone can think of a new name for this, please drop me a line. I hate the titles but can’t for the life of me think of decent names for the series and the chapters.

***

It had been one week. One week since you got back from your Disney trip and one week since you had felt honestly and truly excited about something. You’d been out of course, attended some important meetings about future projects, met up with a couple of friends, done the LA lunch thing, been to the gym, and yoga to work off the holiday splurge. You even went to a showbiz party in the city, which wasn’t really your scene but it gave you an opportunity to dress up and it was on your list of suggested events that PR forwarded to Claire, your excellent personal assistant.

So all in all, it had been a busy week but it just felt… flat. It wasn’t that you’d not even had fun: you always enjoyed meeting your friends and the party had even had it’s entertaining moments, plus you’d got some low key but positive press from it. You didn’t really care for doing the media thing but as PR pointed out, getting your face out there in a positive way was important for keeping you relevant and in the minds of the people you needed to impress, like studios and producers.

But you were missing… something. The kids and their constant bursts of light-hearted, unconscious laughter? Lisa’s awesome cooking? Maybe Scott and his easy teasing? Maybe it was just the feeling of being part of a family in general. You did, somewhat, reluctantly admit to yourself that there a very distinct possibility that it was the presence of a certain blue-eyed, broad-shouldered, deep-voiced man that you were missing.

However, as you sat there in soft, brushed cotton shorts and a Beauty and the Beast tshirt (that may or may not have been purchased in the Magic Kingdom) watching Pillow Talk (you loved Doris Day in this), you felt deflated and restless. You couldn’t put your finger on it.

It was a Sunday evening and you were sprawled against the corner section of your L-shape sofa in the comfortable sitting room area of your apartment, being eaten by throw cushions and moving only to grab another slice of pizza from the coffee table. You were in your favourite place, eating your favourite food, watching your favourite film after treating yourself to a bath and a deep hair conditioning mask. You should have been perfectly content and not so long ago, you would have been.

You checked your phone again and tried not to sigh. Nothing. You refreshed your emails just in case… but still nothing. You’d not heard from Chris at all since you parted ways at the airport. You were destined for LAX and he was flying back to Boston with the rest of his family. Granted, he hadn’t heard from you either but you hadn’t wanted to intrude on his family time and there was also part of you that didn’t want to give him the wrong idea by fishing for attention. You were friends, that was all, and friends could go for weeks, months even, without speaking and then pick right back up like no time had passed. The week you had spent together didn’t mean you’d be in contact all the time. Still, you couldn’t help but be a little disappointed in the freeze out.

Which is why you grabbed your phone the moment it illuminated next to your leg, a tell-tale bubble appearing on the screen. It wasn’t Chris though, obviously. It was the friend you’d met up with for lunch earlier in the week, and her message consisted of a web address followed by a lot of caps lock. When you swiped the bubble to open up the messenger app, you sat up straight with a start and nearly choked on your Diet Coke.

“WHY DIDN’T YOU TELL ME YOU WERE DATING CAPTAIN AMERICA?! Do you even realise how freaking JEALOUS of you I am right now? GET IT GIRL 🔥🔥🔥”

You jabbed the web link with a quivering finger, heart hammering in your mouth as it loaded, breathing paused as you read.

Well, shit.

***

Chris let himself into his house, cabin bag shouldered wearily, Dodger padding in ahead of him. He’d picked him up from his friend-slash-reliable-dog-sitter’s house right after he landed in LAX. After giving the stack of mail he’d picked up on his way in a cursory glance, he dropped it to the side table in the hall and sloped through to his lounge, dumping his bag as he sank into the sofa, Dodger jumping up next to him and settling next to his human, letting out a long and much needed sigh.

God, he was tired. He’d had an amazing couple of weeks in Disney and then Boston, and he loved his family beyond anything but it was good to be back in his house, with his dog and a tiny bit of silence, something that wasn’t very often found in his mother’s house.

So when the unexpected bars of the chorus of He Ain’t Heavy, He’s My Brother by The Hollies pierced the luxurious, beautiful silence he’d only just rediscovered, he couldn’t help scrunching his eyes closed even harder as he pulled his phone from his pocket and answered without looking at the screen and spoke without greeting.

‘Bro, I literally left you at the airport like two hours ago. You missing my sparkling company that much already?’

‘Yeah you wish,’ Scott replied light-heartedly, scoffing, ‘Sparkling, my ass. Have you been on the internet lately?’

‘I just walked in the door and Dodger and I were enjoying our peace and quiet, so no.’

Scott tone turned more serious, ‘Well, I’m just sayin’ you might want to check.’

Chris groaned inwardly while leaning over to rifle in his bag for his iPad, ‘What is it this time?’

'Just go to pretty much any gossip site you can think of.’

'Figures,’ he replied wryly as he googled a website, hating himself for doing it, 'This better be worth my while. I’m going to have to disinfect my iPad after going on here.’

'You’re not going to like it, but you’re going to want to address it with at least one person I think,’ Scott told him in warning as Chris navigated the search engine and loaded the website he needed.

'Okay, I’m on. What am I looking f - Jesus Christ, what the fuck is this shit?!’ Chris exclaimed, reading the first featured 'story’.

'I told you. You know that thing we had a discussion about, hammered at mom’s kitchen table, where you have to let a wild, nervous thing go free and it will come back if it wants to?’

'I told you then to fuck off too, I seem to remember.’

'Well, you might want to forget that and just call her.’

'Yeah, yeah, I’m on it,’ Chris’ voice was quiet and the words spoken on autopilot as he read the trash in front of him, unable to tear his eyes away although it was all he wanted to do.

'Alright bro. Get to her first,’ Scott spoke like he was sorry he’d had to break the news to you.

The brothers hung up and Chris read the article again, frustration building inside him, jaw clenching, teeth grinding.

'CATCHING A CAPTAIN: CHRIS EVANS SNARED BY HIS CO-STAR.’

The pictures were from a distance and a little grainy but it was clearly him, his arms around you, his head tucked against your shoulder, mouse ears on your head, as he stretched his arms out to take selfies on your phone.

Fuck.

***

[faygosmayhem]

Story time #1- Final Fantasy & Me

At the time of this writing, the people following this sad little blog will all know me from the Final Fantasy XV community. For my first story session, I’ve decided to recount my history with the series and touch on what each game meant to me in the order that I played them. I’ll try to keep it as brief as possible, and restrict it to only the main games in the series, but I can rant for hours.

Note: I utterly failed at keeping this brief, I should have known better than to even try. To keep myself from writing a full novel in one post I’ve decided to split the story into parts. Below is the intro and memories from 7,8 and 9.

                                                  Part One

A Fangirl In The Making:

I’ve been into video games since the age of about 5 when my dad would regularly challenge me to competitive rounds of Super Mario Bros 3 for the NES. In the beginning I stuck mostly to NES, Gameboy, and N64 until Christmas of 02′ when all my begging and pouting finally came through and I was gifted with a PlayStation 2 and enough cash to purchase one game of my choice.

Oh how my parents would come to regret this decision.

The game I bought two days later was Kingdom Hearts. I’ll save my thoughts on that series for another time, but hands down this game can be pinpointed as one that permanently changed my life. What part of it changed my life? The journal, of all things. Prior to KH, I had no idea the Final Fantasy series even existed so when I encountered the Kingdom Hearts versions of FF characters, I initially started internally complaining because they were all so interesting and the game did almost nothing with them.  

Then I went back about mid-way through the game and read every character entry in the journal, and was met with two obsession worthy revelations. One: All these characters were also in other games, as part of the same series no less, and two: you could make them dance by choosing to view their full models and rotating the joystick around in circles (I am very easily amused, and doing this actually spawned my first work of Fanfiction).

“So, you mean to tell me that this weird dude with gravity defying hair, one random- mostly useless-wing, and giant sword that must weigh about three times as much as he does when naked and soaking wet who won’t stop emo rambling about Darkness is in another game and I can find out more??? Sign me the fuck up!”

The Gateway Drug:

Immediately after finishing Kingdom Hearts, I took myself down to a local mall where my go-to all encompassing general entertainment store was located. While browsing the shelves for anything that caught my eye, I saw a ‘Greatest Hits’ copy of Final Fantasy VII innocently sitting there, waiting patiently for the right person to walk by so it could take them willingly down the elevator into fandom hell. I didn’t just ride that elevator, I dove headfirst down the shaft.

I shit you not, when I saw that game there I picked it up like a baby and fell to my knees, hugging it to my chest. The video games were located near the cashier counter at the front of the store, and one of the employees who had been eyeing me suspiciously since I walked in started laughing like crazy, jokingly asking if I was OK. I was still dazed and euphoric, and also completely oblivious to the fact that I was causing a bit of scene in the store. The front was plate glass, and everyone walking by also saw and a few people were starting to look concerned. Now a bit embarrassed, I sheepishly walked to the counter and set the game down. After causing a commotion I couldn’t just not buy that game now- as if I would’ve left without it anyway. The guy at the counter was still laughing as he served me. Our exchange went as follows:

“I take it you found what you were looking for”

“Dude, you have no idea”

“You won’t be disappointed. Just, a pro-tip, when you get to the part with the water and the snake, don’t waste too much time trying to fight it, get a Chocobo instead. Also, avoid the things that look like houses in sector 6, they’ll kick your ass.”

I had absolutely no idea what he was talking about, but I filed the information away, paid my 14.95 (Ah, 2003), and walked out of the store cradling the bag like someone was going to steal it from me. When I got home later I tacked the receipt on my wall to immortalize the day forever. I eventually ended up losing it (a story for another time) but I still remember the date. 05/26/03.

I loaded the game and was immediately in awe ( “It’s three discs? No wonder the case is so freaking huge!”). The opening cinematic had me from the first note of the theme, and I remember laughing SO HARD when Cloud flipped off the train and suddenly everyone was a Lego character. It took an embarrassing amount of time for me figure out how to advance the text because it was set to use the circle button for confirm instead of ‘x’, and even longer to figure out how to move because I didn’t realize you actually had to use the D-pad.

Control struggles aside, I was so enraptured by the game I didn’t stop playing that first night until the Sector 7 plate fell and yeah, those damn houses did kick my ass. When I finally got out of Midgar about two days later (I spent an excessive amount of time in the Shinra building and on the Motorcycle mini-game), I couldn’t believe that everything I just did was basically the game’s intro, and that there was still so much more to explore.

I have so many fond memories of VII that  it would be almost impossible to write them all down. Down the road it ended up pretty far from my favorite game in the series, but as the first it will always hold a special place.

You’re Hooked Now Honey, Strap In:

Between the mixed obsession of Kingdom Hearts and Final Fantasy VII, video games quickly became one of the only things I talked about. I had thought I was obsessed before, but this took it to a whole new level of crazy. I started writing weird crack outtake reels from the games in the middle of classes, and would post little screen caps and fanart over literally everything I owned.

One day, I had out my handy outtake notebook during a bit of downtime in Honor Band (yeah, I’m a geek to the extreme), and one of my fellow trombonist’s decided it would be a jolly time to snatch the notebook out of my hands,run away with it and, start ripping the pages out and throwing them around the band room. Fortunately I had some pretty awesome friends, and they not only helped me to secure the notebook but also helped recover the missing pages. After class that day, a boy who played the trumpet shyly walked over to me and handed me back one of the pages that was still missing. He was obviously very nervous, and after handing the page back and accepting my very relieved and excited  ‘thanks dude!’ (I admit to not knowing his name at the time) he stood there awkwardly while I put away my instrument like he had something else to say but didn’t know how. I gave him a questioning look after noticing he hadn’t walked out yet and as I picked up my bag he followed after me into the hall. After a little while he finally fell into step beside me and asked, “so, you like Final Fantasy huh?” 

I don’t care how long I’ve known you, if you ask me about Final Fantasy you better be prepared to a.) Become my new best friend and b.) let me talk your ear off about for as long as you’re willing to sit and listen. I talked with my new friend until we had to part ways for different classes, and then later at lunch when he asked to join me and continue the conversation. I tell this story because a few months later, this same boy bought me a copy of Final Fantasy VIII and asked me to be his girlfriend. A damn diamond wouldn’t have worked better. 

Final Fantasy VIII was a bit of a mixed bag for me. Once again I was already hooked by the game’s opening, and the cinematic introductions of all the characters gave it an unexpected charm right from the start. That game eventually got very, very, veeeery, strange and I eventually stopped trying to make any sort of sense of the plot line and just sat back and enjoyed the ride. 

That is, until I got to the end of disk 3. I found myself horribly stuck on the battle with Adle where she has Rinoa captured. No matter how many times I tried it, I would get her down to the final phase and she would either Ultima wipe the party or Rinoa would die. I gave up on the game for a while, sick of the frustration, until I came across a Prima Strategy Guide for it while browsing a used bookstore. I normally refuse to touch any sort of guide book until after I’ve already been through the game once on my own, but I figured it wouldn’t be much harm since I was already more or less at what I thought was the end of the game (I was wrong). In flipping through the guide, I not only learned how to beat the boss, but discovered I had been playing the entire game using the combat system completely wrong. 

Somehow, I had managed to get that far in the game using only the Guardian Forces given to you at the start of the game and 2 others that you can encounter in the overworld and without stocking up on magic at all. To those familiar with VIII’s train-wreck of a combat system, you know that pairing GF’s and magic together directly effect a character’s stats- and no matter how leveled the characters are,if you don’t have the right combos of magic you have more or less no hope at most of the harder sections of the game. 

So, now I had the boss strategy, but still would have been unable to beat it because I didn’t have the magic required (the strategy was to cast Regen on Rinoa to ensure she stays alive). In the end I bought the guide, scrapped the file I had been playing on and started over from scratch,this time doing all the sidequests and such in the proper order. When I got to that boss again I wiped the floor with her, and was rewarded with the game getting even weirder. 

I still look back to the ending of FFVIII as one of my favorite ‘Ok WTF Just happened?!?!?!?!’ moments in media. Usually I piece together crazy stories pretty well, but even though I came to enjoy the game, I can’t say with any real confidence that I understand it at all. 

Forever Touched:

There was a pause in Final Fantasy games after I finished VIII at the start of ‘04. It wasn’t until almost a year later that I received IX as a Christmas gift. I had been passing on it because I was confused and unimpressed with the cover art, but now that I wasn’t the one paying for it I was willing to give it a chance. I held off starting until New Years, because my parents were letting me have a few friends over and I wanted to have the new experience surrounded for the first time with people just as obsessed with the series as I was. Even though it didn’t have a fancy opening, it wasn’t hard to fall in love with that game. I knew from the first few lines of dialog that my heart was gone, lost forever to endearing charm of that world and it’s characters. 

My friends and I were up all night with it. We had so much fun naming the characters and reading the text out loud ("Princess! It is I! The noble Betty!”).Then we all got so upset when Blank got petrified in the forest that we had to stop for the night. Right from the start, that game hit so hard in the feels. 

IX became not only my favorite game in the series, but my favorite game in general. There is so much emotion, charm, and soul in that game, and it touches on so many issues that hit so close to home that I tear up just thinking about it, Back in May of this year there was a mental health awareness speed run marathon fundraiser called RPG limit break  being held on Twitch.TV, and Final Fantasy IX was the closing game. I couldn’t think of any better way to spend about nine hours in the middle of the night than to re-live the best moments of my favorite game sitting on a couch with my best friend. 

Seeing everyone in the audience tearing up at crucial sections; the Black Mage Village, You Are Not Alone, the ending- made me feel less like an idiot for getting all emotional myself and my friend got to laugh at me freaking out over my favorite game cut-scene ever (The one where Alexander protects the city from Bahamut). When the game was over, the marathon had raised enough money for the runners to stand up and sing the ending theme of the game as a filled donation incentive. When the time came, not only the runners, but everyone in the room stood up to sing along. Melodies of Life, the ending theme, holds a very special place in my heart. Seeing all those people singing along, likely feeling similar things, turned me into a pathetic ball of mush. My friend laughed with me as I sang along with more tears than I think I’ve ever cried streaming down my face, and then I cried again when everyone went around saying their ‘thank yous’ to the people volunteering for the marathon and stood in lines to give each other hugs. 

It was one of the most touching moments of my life; and this game was at it’s center. 

Phew. Well I failed pretty hard at keeping that brief. Looks like this will end up as a series of sorts.  Tune in next time for adventures with Final Fantasy 6/3, X, X-2, and XII

[arc-ada]

Baby's first liveblog - Save Me! Lollipop ep1

This isn't my frist time watching this series. That would have been back sometime in my early middle school (maybe younger?) years, shortly after discovering the wonder that was the free anime section on Hulu. As such it was one of the frist anime I ever watched.

My actual memory of the show is limited to the point I'm honestly kinda surprised I found it again.

The things I remember are as follows:

1.  Even at the time I would have hesitated to call the series as a whole......good. I probably wouldn’t have called it bad either but... (not that that stopped me from staying up late bingeing it)

2. The characters are very clearly color coded.

3. I found the bad guys oddly compelling (the main aspect I'm curious to see whether or not it holds up)

4. The gist of the plot was that the female lead swallows some magic something and tus needs protection by the mail leads

5. The people who want the magic thing intend to basically rip it out of her killing her in the process

6.The villain's backstory ep made me sad and frightened and I loved it

7. My tiny child self’s introduction the concept of the beach ep. horribly risqué by my standards at the time

8. The ending was kinda disappointing

Also worth noting that I'm watching the dub, because that is how I originally experienced it.

So here goes episode one “The Princes Who Fell from the Sky!” 

I may regret going with the dub. (I'm leaving the captions on to so then I can get dialog in screen caps and type less.)

We open with our main heroine finding herself unable to relate to her friends attraction to a boy. #relatable

She then relates her Ideal guy in a manner that's generic but not as generic as my old go to of “a nice one I guess?” #significantly less relatable

The main attribute she seems to want?

Willingness to die for her.

Somewhat interesting that there's already two of them in her fantasy sequence

Honestly I kinda understand getting the urge to stick the magical-gem-thing in your mouth even without mistaking it for candy (the candy thing is definitely a better reason than that though)

Part of the way through the conversation, after the subject of cake comes up, One of her friends starts quietly repeating the phrase “I love cake” while the other friend keeps talking to Pink (I’m just gonna call her pink). I now headcanon nameless friend #2 as being autistic. I’m glad she’s happy.

The rest of the main cast literally fly down from the sky, accompanied by a bunch of other randos. Our heroine is rightfully alarmed by this, causing her to swallow the gem. The male leads calms her down.

instantly meeting her one real standard.

I'm glad I've reached a point in my life where I don't feel the need to try and force myself to enjoy this particular wish fulfillment fantasy

I have thoughts about this whole theme song but I'm just gonna leave you with the opening line.(if you ignore the chanting the song really opens with, that is)

Our heroes quickly figure out Pink has swallowed “the crystal pearl” as it is apparently called.

Blue proves himself to be the less composed of the two but Red keeps him in check.

Things are all moving pretty fast right now.

useless sidekick I haven't felt the need to mention until now screws things up.

This new guy's voice is the worst yet and that's saying something.

Middle school me is legitimately shocked and scandalized. I feel nothing.

The boys reveal that they’re sorcerers from some non-earth place, despite already having seen them fly and use magic Pink doesn't believe them.

The boys go into more detail explaining that there completing a final exam of sorts by playing a really intense and competitive game of fetch. Whichever team gets the pearl becomes pro-sorcerers

Pink finally believes them and realizes the danger she's in (or at least the inconvenience of her situation.)

Magic HQ say they can make a medicine to get the pearl out

(well isn’t that a fun coincidence) Honestly kudos for these guys for keeping their Wizard aesthetic intact without going so far as to ban usefull things like  cellphones. (looking at you harry potter)

The boys vow to protect Pink just in time for the giant owl to show back up.

Red tries to employ the same escape strategy as before.

Gotta get this all laid out as fast as we possibly can. Definitely not any more interesting ways to convey something like that than to just say it.

The party splits up to get Pink away from  the villains. Half of them fly into the air with the less-useless-than-expected-sidekick

She then proceed to try to wriggle her way out of blue's arms (no really) almost falls to her death and then gets embarrassed when he catches her.

Middle school me and I are a bit more on the same page here, seriously man what the hell. I thought we were supposed to like you.

They plummet for real this time. Pink uses blues face to break her fall. Good on her.

I feel like this show really doesn't trust its audience to follow what's happening at all. It's seems like every thought the characters have needs to be said out loud at least twice.

Purple cuts right to the chase.

I have a certain respect for Purple.

Brown's (? I swear I remember this guy being Green before. I may have misremembered just how color-coded these characters are) laugh sounds like a chipmunk.

Purple begs for sweets, Brown contemplates murder.

I can't decide whether or not I'd find Purple annoying if it weren't for nostalgia. As it is I'm getting the warm fuzzies.

Okay that's adorable.

Cuteness continues.

Brown gets jealous. Declares he won't protect Pink.

Purple establishes why she and brown are the villains. Much to Pink and Middle school me's surprise.

look at her little face

I love her so much

Absolutely brutal.

Brown is inclined to agree.

I guess the sudden turn they take from non-threatening to dark is part of why they stuck out in my mind so much.

If they had shown this scene first I would have thought they were overreacting.

oh my gosh

holy shit

she just

okay so the snakes are browns thing and he has a magic whistle

Okay apparently the flute is a bigger deal than I realized

also

the ugly CG snake seems like a needlessly complicated and drawn out form of murder.

there's multiple flashbacks to early in the episode with dialog I don't remember being there before?

admittedly there's a decent chance I just got caught up writing this and forgot. (I swear I didn’t intentionally get a screenshot where it looks like she’s staring at his ass)

I'm pretty sure this is new.

Pink gathers up her strength and cries for help. This seems to make the boy's magic doodad tracker, which I believe I failed to mention before, go off.

it's shaped like a teddy-bear

The boys Make a dramatic entrance kool-aid man style

Oh? Snap? What an amazing zinger?

Magic fight ensues. Baddies continue to be very open about the plan to brutally kill Pink.

Brown makes clear his plan to hypnotise red and blue while awkwardly talking around his flute.

Pink gets all martyr-y

sidekick assures Pink Red and Blue can't lose because “there fighting for something Important”

We get some backstory about red and blue having been protected by someone themselves once. Other than the fact this guy uses he and is older than blue which don't know who but they make sound like stand up dude.

This does go a way to make blue seem a bit more likable so I guess it serves it's purpose pretty well.

Honestly the whole protection spiel here is fairly sweet even if it's super cheesy. I think the explicit mention of familial love makes it a lot more palatable than the plain “boy knights protect girl princess because that's how it works” thing they've had going on up until this point.

Doesn’t really relate to the situation at hand all that well though. Trying to make us feel the same way about pink and these boys she just met rings pretty hollow. and trying to have that same dynamic in what is clearly intended to be a blossoming romantic relationship is still pretty uncomfortable. It’s really one sided. I'll be interested to see how they handle that and if Pink gets a chances to come into her own any.

The Boys get what looks like a magical-girl transformation sequence but they don't change clothes.

Blue blasts off the baddies à la team-rocket

I love her

The team reaffirms that everything's cool between them and their devoted to their mission. Pink swoons some more.

until hijinks ensue again

And so we reach the end of the episode and I am left with the start of a beautiful collection

[a-boros-named-seamus]

Please take the below with a grain of salt. I'm writing this at 2 am and I just realized that the below is incoherent, angry kneejerk fuelled, rambling drek, but it's incoherent drek that may contain something of value. Please, enjoy the wierd, bizzare idiocy that resulted from me being sleep deprived, full of pent up frustration at life, and without any sort of tact or ability to think critically at all due to said sleep deprivation.

By the time of Civil War, the Avengers aren't a part of shield at all anymore. It's all funded by stark industries (which opens up a different can of worms, but tony is a generally responsible person by the time of civil war), and Rodgers is generally the most mentally stable member of the group, usually able to be calm, and with an unwavering moral compass.

Cap's position is "I don't trust the FUCKING sokovia accords, or any government (pretty sure it included the us) to tell me when to save the damn world after the whole mess WITH HYDRA INFILTRATING GOVENMENTS AND SHIT (Rogers, unable to trust the government after the HYDRA Uprising, refused to sign-ripped straight from the wiki)". As well as "You're saying that we have to get approval from a FUCKING committee to use our powers at all (I literally just looked them up, and that is an actual FUCKING provision), and can be detained indefinitely without a trial if I do so to, say, stop a crime, and the UN hears I did it without an authorization form signed in triplicate, and that the same can happen if some one is deemed powerful enough to constitute some form of threat? And that we have to be tracked 24 FUCKING 7? Fuck that."

The justification given for the accords being as restrictive as they are is FUCKING weak, too. "Oh, people died while the Avengers were fighting A: AN ARMY FROM OUTER SPACE WHO ARE MOST DEFINETLY THE CAUSE OF 99% OF THE CASUALTIES and B: A ROBOT ARMY CONTROLLED BY ONE AI HELLBENT ON CAUSING A MASS EXTINCTION OF HUMANITY. THEY EVEN TRIED TO EVACUATE AS MANY PEOPLE AS THEY FUCKING COULD IN THST SECOND ONE". Like. Both those events would have resulted in billions of deaths if they went off without the Avengers present instead of whatever the death toll ended up being. And the thing with Wanda accidentally killing a few dozen people because she flung the suicide bomber up a few stories AWAY FROM A CROWDED STREET. A tragedy, yes, but as far as us, the FUCKING viewer gets to see, that's the first time they've fucked up like that. Maybe give some incident reports that aren't from incidents that we saw on screen and death tolls from those instead of using NEAR APOCALYPSES as your reason for slapping a poorly laid out, pretty quickly made, disgustingly flawed manifestation of an extremely good idea on the avengers.

Cap's not anywhere near a FUCKING imperialist. If you watch the damn movies

fangirlingmanaged:

t-starkasm:

ladyluckless:

me every three months: captain america civil war is about okaying american military action over seas. he’s an imperialist susan. an imperialist!!!!! steve white man’s burden rogers!!! THE MOVIE IS ABOUT US MILITARY ACTION BEING OKAY. IT SAYS WE KNOW BETTER THAN EVERYONE ELSE. WHY DOESN’T ANYONE SEE THAT. 

#forget steve vs tony for a moment and then see this#rhodey had the fucken best line of the movie#‘117 countries wanted to sign this and you’re just like nah we got it’#the anti-accords argument is fucken terrifying#why shouldn’t other countries and governments be involved with deciding how the avengers operate?#if they are gonna so-call ‘save the world’ shouldn’t ppl of the world have a say??#steve ‘i can kill a man with my barehands’ should be in charge of a rogue group of superpowered people yeah sure#marvel #captain america #steve rogers  (starknjohnson) 

Is it like something people who have been abused by American governments in the past understand better than the Americans? Because thinking about the Accords as someone from a country that has been exploited for labor/resources/cannon fodder I see how fucking terrifying Steve’s position is. It’s basically “I know better than you and I will bring potentially volatile people (Maximoff, I’m looking at you) that could annihilate half your population in minutes and you don’t have a say in it. But trust me, it’s for your own good.” There are no words more terrifying for smaller countries than a superpower saying “it’s for your own good.” None.

[nocteverbascio]

the ways we meet: kara/m’gann + animal control

Pairing: Kara Danvers/M’gann Morzz Summary: This is essentially going to be the last time Kara is going to be in charge of Krypto if she can’t find him. A/N: featuring m’gann: kara’s ride or die for rescuing animals

ao3 link 

Clark is going to kill her. No, worse, Alex is going to kill her.

It’s been 48 hours and everyone knows that after 48 hours, the chances of finding someone that’s lost slims to virtually nothing.

“Ma’am, if you can just hold on one second...I think there’s a form here,” a guy with a sticker tag, ‘Hello My Name Is,’ with a messy scrawl, Starlord, is bumbling behind the counter.

“You don’t understand, I need to find him now!” Kara all but screams.

The guy, Starlord, why is his name Starlord? Looks taken aback at Kara’s raised voice. She’s being a little frantic, but the situation would be a lot less dire if it was an ordinary loss. Starlord keeps fumbling behind the counter for the sheet of paper.

How has the parks and recreation department turned into this?

Kara grasps the edge of the counter and hears the wood crack before she lets go. “Please, there’s no time for forms,” Kara frantically adds.

“I’m sorry, dude--dudette, ma’am,” he tries to remain professional but it’s like working with a child. “Just---let me see if someone can help!” He rushes off to one of the offices in the back.

And Kara yells after him, “You don’t understand!” HE CAN FLY! She has to bite her tongue from yelling that out.

After a perky blonde woman comes out and grants her permission for her to post signs, Kara flies around the city as fast as she can, hoping that she’ll have enough daylight to find him before Alex gets wind of her mishap.

She’s famished by the time she finishes posting the signs and goes back to her apartment to eat half her weight in potstickers as she stares at her phone for a response. Literally, watches her phone.

In spite of her super hearing, she stares intently at her phone, shoving her mouth with potstickers, willing it to ring.

Finally it does and Kara rushes for her phone.

Alex’s name flashes on the screen and Kara goes into full panic mode.

“Ah, noooo,” she whimpers to the empty apartment as she holds her phone away from her face like it was infected. “She’s going to killlll me.”

She takes a few deep breathes before she presses Accept and before she can even get the phone to her ear, she hears Alex screaming.

“YOU LOST KRYPTO? HOW IN THE HELL DID YOU LOSE KRYPTO?” Alex yells angrily that Kara cringes visibly, still not holding the phone to her ear. “J’onn and I let you take him home because he’s a Kryptonian dog, Kara! You told me you’d be able to take care of Krypto. You promised you’d be able to handle him. And it hasn’t been 24 hours and you’ve managed to lose him?!”

Kara flaps her mouth open and close, thinking of a response before she sheepishly asks, “Wh-what’re you talking about, Alex?”

“Kara,” Alex firmly says, terrifyingly echoing Eliza’s tone, “I saw the signs. Don’t try to play dumb with me. We’re sending a team to find Krypto.”

Kara wishes that Alex was there to see her because she feels bad, worse than that, she feels terrible. And Alex yelling at her doesn’t make her feel any better. She pouts at the phone. “Alex, don’t do that, please,” she lets out sadly, knowing she’s done wrong, but she’s going to get out of this. She’s Alex’s baby sister, she knows how to play the game. “I’m so sorry. Like I really am sorry. I told you I’d be able to handle it, but I couldn’t.” She takes a deep breath, contemplating her next move. “I can make it right, Alex, don’t be mad. I’ve been looking for him all day. Please, please don’t send a team to find him, he’ll get scared. I am definitely going to find him. ”

There’s silence as Kara waits for a response. Then she hears it, Alex’s elongated sigh.

“Fiiiiine,” Alex says. Kara can imagine her sister pinching the bridge of her nose, unable to stay mad at Kara. “I won’t send a team, but if you can’t find him by tomorrow, I will.”

Kara sighs out in relief. “Aye, aye!” she even salutes to no one before Alex offers her some suggestions on where to look.

It’s nearing the end of the day when Kara gets to animal control, hoping that maybe they’d find Krypto by then.

Kara feels her skin crawl as she walks into the office. It’s by no means clean, there are papers and files stacked up to her eyeballs and empty energy drinks littered about. There’s a sketchy guy reading the newspaper with his feet kicked up on the desk.

“Hello, sir,” Kara greets cheerfully. “I was wondering if you’ve seen my dog.”

He glances at her before keeping his attention on reading the paper. He turns the page for effect.

Kara frowns. “He’s a samoyed, about yay big, dark eyes, can probably tackle you if you tried to get him?” she offers more information.

He raises an eyebrow at her and Kara can hear his heart rate suddenly pick up. He just shrugs though. “Not here,” he gruffly says, moving to cover his face with the paper.

“Are you sure--”

Kara gets interrupted when a door suddenly opens behind the desk and another man walks in, looking haggard and beaten up. He’s clutching his hat in his hand as he leans back against the door with a relieved sigh. Kara focuses intently on him and the room behind him to listen. His heart is pounding inside of him and through the heavy door, she can hear multiple dogs whimpering.

The second man, much larger than the guy sitting at the desk, straightens up instantly upon seeing Kara. “Ma’am,” he greets before looking at the guy behind the paper.

Kara can see through the paper that the man is giving him a cold, warning look and his demeanor changes instantly.

“Is there something you need?” he asks rudely, shoving his cap on his head.

“I was looking for my dog,” Kara is ready to regal her description again, when the guy finally puts down his paper.

He slides his hands across the pages and it makes Kara’s skin crawl. “Look, lady,” he begins smoothly, “there are no dogs here by that description. We ain’t seen nothing today, so if you could leave, we’re getting ready to switch shifts.”

Kara looks taken aback, she’s ready to argue, when the big guy cracks his knuckles. She clenches her jaw, keeping a suspicious look at them. They’re hiding something and fighting it head on isn’t going to help.

She leaves without another word.

It’s how she ends up finding her way behind the building, jumping over the fence, hiding furtively against the wall. She wonders if this is how Alex feels on a mission.

She turns the corner, where she can hear the dogs. There is a window ten feet up and Kara decides maybe flying up is conspicuous, and uses her X-ray vision instead. She sees a bunch of dogs, all cowering in the corner of their cages and Kara’s blood boils as she sees the creepy man slamming his baton on the cage, yelling at them to shut up.

There’s a strong fearless bark and Kara looks for it. “Krypto!” she yells out upon seeing the sillouhette of her dog.

Suddenly she feels a hand over her mouth and she thrashes at the touch, when she realizes she can’t move. Something stronger than her is holding her down and Kara panics.

“Calm down,” a soothingly female voices whispers in her ear and Kara turns her head just enough to see who is holding onto her. “I’m not here to hurt you, I just don’t want us to get caught.”

The owner of the voice is a beautiful tanned woman, with her hair up in a bun, looking extremely calm as she lets go of Kara.

Kara’s eyes widen as they make eye contact, feeling her heart tighten in her chest and her whole body tingle. It’s like everything falls into place as she tries to catch her breath. “You’re--my--”

“Soulmate? I suppose I am,” the woman says with a smile on her face.

Kara stares in confusion for a brief moment “What’re you doing here?” she blurts out quickly.

“I sensed trouble so I came,” she says. She looks shyly at Kara. “I wasn’t expecting to meet you here though.”

Kara lets out a light laugh. “Well, I do live for trouble,” she jokes before realizing this isn’t a time for jokes. “And as much as I’d love to banter, those guys are bad and those dogs are in trouble. We’ve got to do something.”

“What do you suggest we do?”

Kara thinks for a moment. “How do you feel about a rescue mission?” There’s a bright smile on her face as the plan forms.

The woman returns the smile brightly. “I’m right there with you.”

Kara holds her hand out. “Kara.”

“Megan.” Megan takes Kara’s hand in hers and they fit like pieces of a puzzle. “Let’s go rescue some dogs.”

[ciathyzareposts]

Realms of Arkania: Ei im Gesicht

That about sums up this entire session.

         Today’s subtitle comes from a conversation I had this week with Irene. My wife occasionally takes an interest in my hobby and asks about what I’m playing. She usually begins by asking, “What year are you up to?,” to which whatever my reply she responds with “still?” That’s always a bit depressing. But a few weeks ago, her first question was about the country.

“Germany,” I replied enthusiastically. “This one is based on a German tabletop game called Das Schwarze Auge.”        

“The . . . black . . . owooga?” she asked, attempting to translate.

“The Black Eye,” I corrected, not also mentioning that most people translate schwarze as “dark” in this context. 

Two weeks later, she came into my office while I was playing. I tend to interlace hours of work with hours of play, and without fail, if she opens the door and sees what’s on my monitor, it’s during one of the hours of play. Sometimes I don’t think she thinks I work at all.

“Are you still playing that German game?” she asked. “Egg on Your Face?”

After some confusion, I realized she had confused one metaphor for an embarrassing facial blemish for another. I suspect for the rest of my life, I’m going to mentally translate Das Schwarze Auge as Egg on Your Face. Das Schwarze Auge probably has an actual rule about egg on a character’s face, with an associated temporary loss of 3 charisma points.            

I definitely don’t want these eggs on my face.

         This session, I mostly continued my town-to-town explorations, trying to find the pieces of the map that will lead me to Hyggelik’s tomb. These travels were interspersed with more side explorations that I sure hope aren’t tied to the main quest, because I’ve been doing awful at them.

Take the spider’s cave, where I started. There were two levels to the place, and it was swarming with spiders and some kind of spider cultists. The combats were of average difficulty, made easier because the occultists tended to drop vials of spider venom, which I could then apply to my own weapons and thus do about three times the damage–oddly, even against spiders.

But aside from the combats, I screwed up everything in the caves. First, I chose to burn some spider eggs, and I guess that caused the caverns to fill up with smoke, which caused my characters to choke to death if they kept exploring. I had to reload from before that decision. Then I ran into an alcove where I was asked a riddle: “What is as impenetrable as an iron wall and yet as transparent as glass?” Now, the answer to this is literally nothing, or perhaps “REALLY THICK GLASS,” but I suspected the developers were going for WEB or SPIDER WEB or something. No matter what I entered, I couldn’t get it right, or at least nothing happened.           

Ran out of letters!

          I did solve another puzzle, probably the one that commenter Alrik von Prem was talking about last time. The riddle was in the basement, behind a one way door, and getting it right was the only way out of the area. It was, “Who is the lord of all spiders?” I figured the answer had something to do with a statue I’d seen on the first level, where “the letters S, N, A, T, C, A and M form a heptagram.” I probably could have figured it out anyway just from trying different combinations, but I’ve known for years–god knows why–that the scientific name for the black widow spider is Latrodectus mactans, and thus figured correctly that’s what they were going for.              

Or else the authors were fans of SCATMAN Crothers.

           That was probably my only success. I fell into several traps and damaged my party horribly. I set off several chest traps, and there were at least two chests that I never got open because of the traps. I found a bunch of crystals and two Amulets of Someone that I never found any use for. I finally left the caves dispirited and annoyed. One condition I didn’t experience, to my surprise, was poison.

I returned to the road and made it to the harbor city of Ottarje, where a visit to Hjore Ahrensson produced another piece of the map as well as a new name in Clanegh (where I’ve already been).                

This was prescient of him, as I was never able to find any Thinmarsdotters living in Clanegh.

                From Ottarje, I took a ship to Prem–a huge town without much interesting except an abandoned mine. I wasted a bunch of time exploring the mine, which had no enemies but lots of locked doors and traps. The mine kept caving in, which took half a day or more for my characters to clear, and they started starving and complaining of thirst. Some things that I thought would be promising treasures turned out to be nothing. I broke my only set of lockpicks in a locked door. I left a second dungeon dispirited.

I kept circling the game’s western “horn” with the goal of hitting Hjalsingor and then reaching the island of Manrek, both of which were clue locations. From Prem, we sailed to Treban, Kord, Guddasunden, and finally Hjalsingor. Algrid Trondesdotter said she used to have a map, but she sold it to merchant named “Kollborn or something.” She also gave me a new name in Breida.             

This NPC wasn’t very useful.

           From Hjalsingor, we sailed to Royik and then across the strait to the city of Manrin in Manrek. I had been told that my quarry was on Manrek, but not which of the two cities. Manrin was a bust, so I set out overland for Brendhil. On the way, I stumbled upon a third cave and had my third failure, largely because I hadn’t been able to find a new set of lockpicks at any shop since my original set broke. I frankly don’t even remember where I bought the originals. I opened some doors with spells but soon ran out of points. I fought some pirates, failed to figure out how to work a lever puzzle, and to cap it all off, decided to sail out of the caves in a boat we found at the back. In a scripted event (I’m not sure if high skill in anything would have prevented it), the boat foundered and sank and I had to reload from back in Manrin. I didn’t even bother to stop at the cave on my second trip to Brendhil.           

Why did we sail out into the open ocean anyway?

           In Brendhil, Thomas Swarfnildsson gave me my fifth map piece but nothing much else happened. We hopped a boat for Liskor back on the mainland and then walked to Clanegh for the second time. I was utterly unable to find Yasma Thinmarsdotter, who was supposed to have another map clue. I checked every building and got drunk in every tavern hoping for a clue.           

This is where I am at this point.

          My pub crawl in Clanegh paid off in another way, however, when my first NPC companion joined the party in a tavern. Nariell, a huntress, comes with a bow and 40 arrows. I haven’t done much with missile weapons since my early unsuccessful attempts, so I thought I’d keep her and see how it goes. She is highly skilled in nature-related skills and at Level 6 is much higher than my own characters. The downside is that NPCs exist in their own box off to the side, which means you can’t put them at the front of the party, which means you can’t take advantage of a lot of their skills.          

Whether accepting or rejecting the NPC’s offer to join, the party leader is a jerk.

         My next clue was way over in Phexcaer, a long journey overland back to Felsteyn, then down the river branch to Vilnhome, then east along the river through a long wilderness stretch. On we went through Orkanger, Felsteyn, Upper Orcam, and Vilnhome, fighting some random bandit battles on the way, stopping in each town for a proper meal and bed rest. In Vilhome, we loaded up on rations and water for the long trip upriver.

After a couple of uneventful days, the game warned that we were entering orcish lands, an event punctuated with a skull stuck on a stick. In a scripted encounter, we got stuck in a marsh for a while, and Dormauera got some kind of disease that miraculously Halberman was able to treat.          

My first battle with orcs.

          The fourth day out, we fought our first party of orcs–a pack of four, which wasn’t so bad. The next day, we were ambushed by eight, which was much harder. On Day 6, we met a traveler who warned us that Phexcaer is swarming with thieves–unwelcome news, as Halberman’s pocket had been picked back in Brendhil for about 80 ducats.         

It turned out that I didn’t get anything for anything.

       We finally reached Phexcaer after a week on the road. Halberman immediately levereld up to 4 from the fights in transit. Another large city, Phexcaer had a few features I hadn’t found in other cities, including a “gentleman’s club.” It was interesting for several reasons. First, a detailed screen that showed several scantily-clad workers or patrons, plus an animated woman dancing, was almost immediately and continually covered up by text boxes. Second, upon entering, the party was approached by a young man who asked if we wanted to purchase sex. Two of the three resulting options are to express outrage at even being asked (in which case you get thrown out) and to get down to business and ask about Hyggelik (although, oddly, the game has us say that we’re looking for Hyggelik rather than his tomb or descendants). But if you do want to take the brothel up on its services, the only option to do so is within the context of the party unanimously declaring themselves to be pansexual.          

Three weird choices.

            Meanwhile, if you ask about Hyggelik, the young man asks you to meet him in half an hour, “two houses to the north.” The problem is that the building two squares to the north is an armory, not a house, and none of the nearby houses had any resulting encounters. Moreover, the game doesn’t even track time in increments smaller than a whole hour. I tried nearby houses in all cardinal directions to no avail.

There’s a “gambling hall,” but you can’t actually play any gambling games. I just lost 15 ducats in a scripted encounter. A town hall had a promising option to “use its archives,” but after we paid a 10 ducat fee, we were told that a decision would be made at the next city council meeting in 3 weeks.

There were several options to talk with NPCs about Hyggelik, but they all acted like he was still alive. A guy in a bar told us he had “moved to Hermit’s Lake,” and a healer said that he had gone to Riva, which isn’t even on my map.            

I’m pretty sure he died centuries ago. Are we talking about the same person?

          Unfortunately, I seem to have come all the way upriver for nothing. The person I was looking for, “Gerbald,” turned out to be a smith running a shop in the southeast part of town. But no dialogue options would get anything out of him, and the most aggressive options turned into a brawl. I left the city frustrated and confused.

I figured while I was already so far west, I’d check out nearby Groenvelden–the furthest-east town on the map. But it was a tiny place with no special encounters. So now I have to make my way all the way back down the river to Thorwal and turn my explorations to the cities south of it. Maybe while I’m back in the big city, I’ll see if I have any luck in the lower levels of the old fortress.

Miscellaneous notes:          

I’m having major inventory annoyances. Between all the equipment that I feel like I should keep for when it’s necessary, backup weapons, rations and water, potions and poisons, and herbs, I’m constantly running out of room.

Potions would be a great money sink if they stacked.

Sometimes, the game doesn’t seem to apply its Scandinavian naming conventions accurately.

             Or else that’s one ugly daughter.

         Treasure chests never seen to have anything I actually want, such as weapon and armor upgrades.

            A bonanza for a party of mountaineers.

          I continue to be amused by the absurd dialogue options when dealing with shopkeepers.

            No comment.

             I give 50 silver pieces to every temple I come across and yet my prayers are never answered. I don’t even know what they’re supposed to do in theory.

I’ve had some weapons break, but it’s so annoying to wait the 6 hours it takes to repair them that I’ve been throwing them away and replacing them.

           One thing that really struck me during this session was the overwhelming purposelessness of most of the cities and towns. Even the smallest is maybe 20 x 20 squares with a dozen buildings. In any given town, about half its buildings will have random citizens or will be empty, and the others will consist of interchangeable shops, inns, taverns, and temples. Maybe 1 in 3 cities has an NPC’s house. Prem was like 20 x 60 but hardly had anything more interesting than the smallest town. And there are over 50 cities! The developers spent an awful lot of time building numerous large spaces in which not much of anything happens.

This was also true of Spirit of Adventure, but that game had only like 3 towns. This one has several dozen. It takes forever to fully explore each one, but you must lest you miss that one important house.

I’ve just crossed the game’s 20th hour. By the same time in most Gold Box games, I was over halfway through the plot, had leveled up 5 times, and had six or seven magic items among the party members. For this game, I still feel like I’ve just started, I’ve leveled up twice, I still mostly have my starting inventory, and I keep spending hours exploring places that offer no sense of reward or resolution. I’m beginning to think that this isn’t a very good game.

Time so far: 23 hours

source http://reposts.ciathyza.com/realms-of-arkania-ei-im-gesicht/

[captainmaiel]

Author Beware - Share This With an Author You Love (Copy - Paste with Credit - Repost)

Getting Stalked by BooksButterfly’s Abhishek Singh

It’s 2018, and I’ve had two more instances: another investigation of my use of work equipment that exonerated me against false allegations of misuse, and reporting my article to Medium.com as harassment. I expect this to continue, despite not having done anything wrong. This was a review of the services I received from this business, and what came of the interaction with the business. 

Let’s revisit...

The following article is about the relentless stalking of myself for daring to publish a review about a book marketing company that scammed me and other authors out of a few hundred dollars. No doubt he will scour the internet and find this, and report it to Medium as defamation. But the fact of the matter remains, his site scams authors out of money, failing to follow through on the promises he makes. He will then lie and threaten his way free of any review that paints his business in it’s true light.

He even got to my website hosts legal team, and convinced them that this article was libel. Slander, libel, or defamation are not founded in the truth, and there is plenty of evidence and witnesses to what has been done by this individual.

DO NOT USE BOOKSBUTTERFLY! Avoid them. Unless you want to suffer these consequences.

Books Butterfly

 is a scam. I will say it outright.

(Please see updates from February 2017 below, because this person is now cyberstalking me because of this article, and the truth dropped in it).

Do not use them to promote your book, you’ll end up sorely disappointed. The person or persons with whom you’ll have correspondence are additionally rude, and will refuse to send a refund. They will then proceed to lie to PayPal, as you need to use them for payment, and PayPal will believe them. I turned them into the New York State Attorney General’s Office for Internet Fraud. Unfortunately, as an advocacy office, they cannot lodge a suit or remove them from the internet without further evidence, and you hiring an attorney, but please contact them if you have already been scammed, because the more reports, the more room they have to move.

So what happened?

I and other authors in one of my genres banded together to sell a bundle of our works to promote ourselves to readers. You got 9 books and one short story for $0.99. It was an exciting opportunity featuring top authors from around the Western World—award winners and best sellers. I was honored to have one of my books included with this esteemed group.

Having pooled our resources, we chose from a handful of the multitudes of promotion sites out there. Books Butterfly was unfortunately one of them. They all have a similar look, so the bland page wasn’t really a warning sign. If you google them, there’s not much information, but you can tell that others have been googling their name and scam. (I chose to write this article to help those wondering, so they can make the best decision for their promotion.)

When it was evident that another bundle that the coordinator of our set had put out was not doing well at all with Books Butterfly, the coordinator cancelled the order and asked for a refund, based on their policy which you can view here:

As you can see, refunds are awarded on a pro-rated basis, which is very understandable. However, the individual(s) we dealt with refused to allow this, claiming there was store credit only. He also said we never requested a cancellation, yet I have the email from our coordinator and him confirming. Neither did we misrepresent the price of our bundle, the only thing that could disqualify us from receiving such a refund, according to the sites own policy…

I won’t show you the rest of his emails. They were insanely rambling and rude (the other authors experienced the same). The person coordinating our bundle was unable to get through to him either. He told her that she didn’t send the attachments as asked, which she did, because she also sent them to us. I’ve left off the invoices on purpose.

We reached out to our respective state attorney generals and other consumer bureaus to investigate. The people at Books Butterfly lied about the incident, claiming we were trying to extort money from him, and remained ludicrously belligerent and stubborn. How does one extort their own money from someone who is stealing it? By telling them to stop stealing from them, of course! He also said I threatened him for warning that I would take these steps to aid in winning our case, a right consumers have when they’re defrauded.

Is this an isolated incident? No. Several people replied to my posts about this, in Facebook forums, that they had heard the same from other authors. Buyer beware. Share this with a writer you love. Steer them away! He cannot guarantee any sales at all, and won’t honor his own policies.

This week, I also found out that the person from Books Butterfly dug up my personal information, and claimed that I was using time and equipment at my job to further my book business. He literally tried to get me fired for speaking out, for turning him into the AG, and for trying to get my funds back when he failed to follow through on his promise. He stalked me. This just went to plaid.

Buyer Beware!

Update February 12, 2017

The original posting was made back in September of 2016. Several authors have written to thank me for this warning, and still others commenting that they have experienced similar issues with the business. They’ve remarked on the unhinged behavior of the proprietor. Up until now that would be considered hearsay in court. That was until this afternoon, when I checked my email to find not one, but two emails from “Abhishek” attempting to reopen his email war with me. Keep in mind, all the proof points to shady business practices on his part. I laid out every bit of evidence that I had in my possession above. Now, he wishes to continue the slander of my colleagues with accusations of greed. One cannot be greedy for their own money. It simply doesn’t work that way. Below you will find a copy of both emails sent to me today, clearly seeking to harass me and my colleagues, SIX MONTHS LATER.

I think the article has been making headway. That is the only explanation for him to lash out again. It also provides me with something I can go to the Attorney General with to lodge a complaint, again. If it continues, I would be within my rights to lodge a harassment complaint and seek damages.

I’m still laughing about how we’re ‘greedy’ over the payment we made–our own money. That is just the best part.

  Update February 17, 2017

Today, I woke up to find that this person reported my post on LinkedIn and had it removed. He claims that it was defamatory and slander. All I shared were his correspondences with myself and other authors. I gave an honest review of my experience and that of the other authors involved in the problem. Now, he’s emailing my site builder. Reporting me to my day job (a position that no one knows that I hold outside of those I work with and family, and I made the mistake of divulging to him that I work for state contracts, in order to make him understand that I UNDERSTAND the legal issues he’s getting himself into, and should just refund our money for failure to follow through on his business promise—and he got the wrong office by the way. Still, it got back to my office, as was his wont). Here is the threatening letter that my colleague at this site received. She will be calling the police forthwith, and happens to be in Canada, too. So, hopefully, the Canadian authorities can manage this and stop the cyber-stalking.

As you’ll see below, he’s using a different email, but gives his full name.

I am well within my rights, American and Canadian, to write a review and divulge this experience to others. It’s only slander if there is misinformation, which there is not. I have shared actual emails sent by this person. Yes, PayPal failed to find in our favor, but they refused to hear the case, as well. The organizer of the box set did all that she could, but Mr. Singh lied his way clear (as proven by the screen captures included above).

 Stay tuned! I’m sure there will be more. Keep your fingers crossed that the Canadian authorities will nip this in the bud. In the least, he’s crossed a line with a member of  a Writers Federation of his own country, and this will reach more authors, preventing them from getting involved in such scams and dealings.

There comes a point where one should cut their losses and just do their best to prove the bad review wrong, by providing the best service possible to their customers. Stalking and harassing the reviewer, past customer, just shows a lack of business sensibility, acumen, if you will, and that there was indeed a problem here on the part of this individual. I won’t be the last person to give a bad review, and to expect otherwise is unrealistic, especially with this kind of service in store. Do what you promise, and you’ll have no issues. Am I right?

If you carry anything away from this review, readers, take special note of this close up of a screen cap included above. MONEY BACK GUARANTEE was in the Books Butterfly policy, and that is what was asked for. He chose to refuse it, despite us having met his parameters. That was not his money, clear and free, until he earned it by filling the promise, the guarantee. Who’s greedy? Yeah. Exactly. Don’t let this happen to you.

  February 20, 2017, received a response from LinkedIn. Don’t expect social media to help you fight harassment and stalking. In fact, my experience, and the experience of many who undergo such abuse, is that sites will reprimand them as if they’re at fault. Victim blaming is a serious problem that often keeps victims of abuse trapped, and allows the perpetrator to continue their campaigns of harassment and stalking unhindered. I will await to see what LinkedIn has to say about my response. My suspicion is that they will treat me as a problem and attempt to cut me off. In that case, I will add them to the complaint to the NY State Attorney General.

Remember that you have rights. You have a right to review a business about your experience. You have a right to share that with others, free of harassment. It is not defamation. If a business comes back at you, they’re committing a crime. You should document the interaction and publish the evidence with the original review as I have done here. Social Media fails if they punish you for that and you also have a right to lodge a complaint against them for that.