#lots of angst with grim in this au so I beg you guys to not mention my son:(

[azulsluver]

I just though of something. What would grim be like in the bully au? Would he be an a$$h9le or different? Maybe trying to defend us? Pft- imagine grim trying to defend the reader. He's standing with his arms out with claws ready to attac anyone who tries to bully or harm Yuu. Then him just getting YEET away by the collar LMAO

Everyone loves the mascot of nrc :<

Grim would try! If he noticed. There is a chance he could be led to the asshole route if he so much as hangs with Ace and Deuce too long. But he’s sticking by your side after seeing you come back very late, there are scratches on your arms and neck. He might not be able to say anything through your fits of sobs, but he’ll try, curling up next to you as you let tears soak up his fur.

Grim does try to defend you, he knows their stronger than him yet he’s fierce in blowing fire at their clothes and faces. A decoy he’ll be much of so you have chances to escape!

This au is really dark, I barely touch the surface on the topic….if Grim were to get in their way too many times, say be it Floyd, Rook, or Leona, they’ll make him watch as you suffer painfully, going as far as to snap your leg and burn your tongue for snitching. Let it be a lesson to Grim to stand by the side if he wishes that you’ll have a more dull punishment. Going back home to sleep with him in your arms, throat sore as he snuggles up to you and tells you how sorry he is and he’ll be good.

[scriptaed]

bygones of the sun. 08 (m)

genre: angst/fluff/(future)smut || dance captain!hoseok, bad boy!au, uni!au

pairing: reader x hoseok;

length: 4.6k;

synopsis: Jung Hoseok was once the sweetheart of the school, the dance captain whom every girl, including you, can’t help but fall head over heels for. But like the force of the ever-glowing sun, everything that rises must also set. A year of inactivity later and he’s now the school’s resident bad boy. You’re a firm believer of allowing the past be the past, and yet you can’t help but wonder where the risen sun has gone into hiding—because perhaps its shadows have out-shined its own radiance.

Regardless of the endless praying in the waking hours of midnight and desperate texts to Hani and Junghwa for help, the sun rises nevertheless; rather than replacing, the radiant glow of the sun blinds the darkness of the cold night into nearly nonexistence and the morning comes along with it in an inevitable solar system bound to revolve around its center.

After hours of rolling around in bed—too hot, kick one leg out over your blankets, too cold, bury yourself under the heat you had insulated from tossing and turning—you manage to barely get in a few hours of sleep before waking up only to look into the mirror in dismay over the dark circles drooping under your eyes.

Well, at least that might turn Hoseok off from doing whatever the needy, mischievous, and maybe even horny bad boy deprived of action side of him did to you last night.

A few splashes of fresh, cold water in the sink of your motel room and a messy albeit best bun you could every tie up are all that you figure you would need before marching off into the dining hall just three flights of stairs down; after all, who are you trying to impress? Certainly not Hoseok…

...or at least that’s what you tell yourself; because nevertheless, even after chanting to yourself under your breath that you would do everything and anything to avoid garnering his attention today, and perhaps the rest of eternity, you still take a quick glance in the mirror to assure yourself that your casual black tank top and gray sweatpants are of at least a presentable state. Maybe it’s the lack of sleeping getting to you or maybe it’s the adrenaline mixed with shock from last night’s incident with the boy you’ve been dreaming of since last year that endorses your self confidence that you smile at yourself after a quick scan in the floor length mirror and proceed to skip your way down into the first floor of the niche motel where Jimin had informed you last night that he and the rest of the boys would be getting breakfast.

As you jog down the stairs like a child on the eve of Christmas, you find yourself subconsciously humming to an oh-so-familiar tune; although you can’t quite put a finger on the exact title of the track, the image, the senses, the serenity that comes along with the nostalgic tune floods you into a timeless reverie. An earphone plugged in your right ear while the laughs of others and the tires rolling against the gravel rushes into your left, you can practically feel the cotton of a sweater wrapping you in warmth along with a crisp, spicy masculine scent as you lay your head against the comfortable crook of someone’s shoulder. The squeaking of broken in sneakers against the hardwood floor and the beats of the track echoing in a vast, empty room. You can imagine it all, evidently too real to be conjured up in your head.

“Y/N! Over here!” Taehyung’s voice snaps you out of your daze. Stepping a foot into the relatively small, cozy dining room, the enticing aroma of warm soup mixed with traditional spices and herbs fill your nose and state of mind as it pulls your growling stomach closer than ever. You find Taehyung, Jungkook, and Jimin already decked out in workout attire as they seated themselves with three other less familiar faces before you quickly skid your way to their table. Taehyung flashes you his signature warm, boxy smile, “morning!”

“Good morning,” you press a smile at the five other greetings which follow shortly after.

“Oh?” Jungkook quirks a brow and you reciprocate his gestures. “You’re pretty dressed up today, Y/N.”

“Dressed up?” you nearly choke, eyes popping at your supposedly exact opposite intentions. “Uh no, no, I just threw on whatever I found first in my luggage. Dressing up is the last thing I wanted.”

“Uhuh,” Taehyung drawls, winking at his partner in crime Jungkook. “So, who’s the lucky boy? Is it someone you met at camp yesterday?”

You sigh, “I don’t have my eye on anyone—”

“—oh my God,” both Taehyung and Jungkook gasps, gaping and turning their head in sync, “is it Hoseok?”

“What?” you nearly yell and it feels like your heart is about to fail you. “No!”

“I know we were the ones who asked you to talk to him and convince him to return to the club, but that’s only because we heard you two were a thing… or that you two went out on some dates. But you said you guys didn’t, so…” Jungkook’s voice trails off as he ponders over the rather imaginative albeit somewhat accurate thoughts of his, whereas Taehyung picks up where he left off, “did you catch feelings? Or did you already have feelings for him? You know, how did you convince him to attend camp anyways?”

You gulp. There’s no way you’re telling them the absurd offer Hoseok had proposed, a kiss in exchange for his presence, not to mention the fact that you actually gave him what he wanted and more. The recalling of the tender scene in the kitchen flushes your cheeks to rosy hues as you mumble, “I just begged him until he was too annoyed to decline.”

The boys glance at each other in wariness before Jimin chuckles to break the silence, “where is Hoseok anyways? I told him to meet us here last night, but he left me on read. Do you know what happened to him, Y/N?”

“Huh? Me? Hoseok?” you say louder than intended.

The grim look on his face after he had unexpectedly pulled you in for a session you could only imagine in your dreams just a year ago, when he answered your last question, when you turned your back and left him in the jacuzzi out of shock flashes before your eyes; regardless of having witnessed the sudden change in Hoseok’s demeanor, even you can’t quite explain the reasoning behind it. You thought you were done worrying for him throughout the entirety of last night, however, now that everything around you seems to always come back to Hoseok, you can’t help but wonder what you can do to help him… despite how much he has changed.

“Oh, there he is,” Jimin calls out and your entire body freezes in place, too scared to turn around and face him after last night. “Hoseok—”

“—Y/N,” you can hear the familiar voice of his as his low uttering resonates in your ear and rumbles throughout your chest.

You take a deep breath and gulp, pretending as if you had heard a apparition and turning to grab a plate and utensil to fetch some steamed vegetables in the hotpot placed in the middle of the wooden table.

“Y/N,” Hoseok mutters sternly. You can see his maroon tee and grey sweatpants in the corner of your eyes while Jimin glances between you and Hoseok as the latter takes a step closer to you. “Y/N, we need to talk. I’m sorry about last night. Please, at least listen to what I have to say—”

“—I see we have hot pot for breakfast today,” you interject, turning to Jimin and stuffing your mouth with boiled food which burns your mouth, but not before blurting, “kind of unusual, but I’m not complaining. Thanks for the meal.”

Hoseok sighs, looking the other way in lack of amusement for a split second before placing his hand on your shoulder, “Y/N—”

“—actually, Y/N, guys,” Jimin cuts in and gently extracts Hoseok’s hand from your shoulder. “Hoseok and I have to discuss our plans for today and the rest of the camp. You guys eat first and we’ll join you afterwards in the practice room.”

With that, Jimin ushers Hoseok out of the dining hall, dragging him forward as your eyes briefly lock with Hoseok’s as he reluctantly looks over his shoulder to glimpse at you for a few times. A part of you pangs with guilt for blatantly ignoring him like that, especially since you could sense the sincerity in his apology, but it was just too soon, too awkward for you; and while you know Hoseok as a person completely unaffected by the public’s eye, you’re less than willing to review last night’s moment of intimacy in front of the other boys.

One of the boys clears his throat to break the silence, and everyone turns to stare at him wide-eyed. Chestnut hair and tan skin, you manage to recall him as one of the main albeit in need of Hoseok’s guidance members, Namjoon. He reaches his hand out to firmly shake yours before gesturing for you to take a seat next to him on the wooden bench, “I don't think I've ever introduced myself yet. I'm Namjoon. I've heard a lot about you… Y/N?”

“Yeah, Y/N. That's the name,” you grin and seat yourself next to Namjoon. “It's nice I'm finally meeting the oh-so-popular dance group of our school.”

The boys chuckle at your remark when the rather fair skinned, blond and petite albeit carrying a mien years more mature than boys his age leans forward next to Namjoon to give you a pressed smile and a small wave, “the name's Yoongi.”

“And I'm Jin,” the boy across from you and next to Taehyung and Jungkook waves both jointy hands at you before digging his chopsticks into the shared pot and chiming, “now let's eat already. I'm starving here!”

-

The rest of breakfast passes by smoothly as you and the boys laugh over small talk and gather your things to head over to the first practice session of the day. While Taehyung and Jungkook went to find Jimin, you stayed behind with Namjoon, Jin, and Yoongi. Although they’re not as energetic and bubbly as the other three, you soon find your new friends to be just as dorky as they goof off and even tease Hoseok as he leads the practice through stretches and choreograph; but even through all the teasing and giggling, Hoseok never seems to lose his cool over something which happened all too much back in his days as the captain, for he simply rolls his eyes and directs his attention elsewhere.

Everything passes by smoothly, or at least you think, because shortly after laughing at Jin’s less than sufficient, duck-with-a-broken-leg looking spin, you become determined to show him how it’s properly done before placing one leg over the other and somehow managing to trip over your own feet in midspin. It all happens too fast for you to register, but what you do recall is your right foot twisting at the weirdest of angles, sending a crack echoing in your vicinity and a spike of pain traveling from your feet up as your body tumbles to the floor. You’re grasping at your ankle and hissing at the wincing pain still numbed by adrenalin when you look up from the ground to suddenly find Hoseok right next to you after having dropped all things and rushed to your side, scanning you up and down in worry while the rest of the boys peer over at you from behind Hoseok in sympathy.

And the next thing you know, you find yourself hoisted into the air as Hoseok carries you in his firm arms out of the dance room. The spur of the moment prohibits you from protesting, for all you can do is lie there and peer up at Hoseok in complete awe. You don’t know if it’s the return of the glimmer in his eyes when times of crisis lures out the former captain in him, but the stern, serious and worried expression of his furrowed brows and pressed lips enables you to put your full trust in him. The Hoseok you’re looking at now is more capable than you’ve ever seen him before; war scars, adversities, sympathy and empathy, he’s gone through it all.

The fact that he doesn’t even notice you ogling your eyes at him, or at least the fact that he chooses not to comment on it, only further supports your observation as he carefully lays you on the floor of the empty hall right outside the practice room where a vending machine remains buzzing throughout the silence.

“So,” Hoseok finally says, your eyes widening and darting up to stare at him as his own line of sight remains on the first aid kit and your swelling ankle. “Mind explaining to me how this happened?”

“I… um…” you mumble; something about his new mien akin to a stern captain tells you to be cautious of how you answer. “I accidentally tripped—”

“—tell me the truth,” Hoseok deadpans, glimpsing up from your injury to lock eyes with you and you swear your heart had never panicked more.

Clearing your throat, you bashfully look down at the ground in shame, “okay, fine. I was playing around with Jin and lost my focus, which caused me to trip midspin.”

A few seconds of silence pass, and it feels like an hour of intense pondering over endless penalties or scolding are running through his unamused eyes before he finally sighs and his body language along with his aura softens, “really? You tripped because of that? How clumsy can you be? I used to encourage everyone to dance if they wanted to, but maybe it’s safer if I don’t do the same with you. You really aren’t cut out to be a dancer.”

“...well, sorry I’m not as good as you,” you mumble and pout when you recall the contradiction between what he’s saying to you now and what he had to said to you a year ago.

Another moment of silence passes, and whether it’s from exhaustion having practiced for an hour and a half or from this entire stressful situation playing out right before you, you can feel beads of sweat trickling down your temple.

“No,” Hoseok finally utters as he wraps a roll of cloth tape bandage over your throbbing ankle. He follows his statement without looking up at you, “I should be the one apologizing. I’m sorry about last night. Whether you liked it or not, I shouldn’t have forced myself on you. I don’t really have the explanation you deserve, so an apology is all I can give right now.”

His words freeze you in place. You don’t think you’ve ever heard him as genuine and serious as he is now, at least not since the tense moment you two had shared in his car after your first date with him. You don’t what to say, because it’s not like you’re mad at him. You’re completely worried over his mental well-being, and the grim look on his face only worries you more.

“It’s okay. I understand and I forgive you,” you meekly say, and you can hear a soft sigh of relief escape his slightly curved lips.

He continues wrapping your leg until your ankle is fixed into the right position and the bandage prohibits you from moving it for as long as it’s on while you intently gaze at him out of your subconscious. Sweat thinning his bangs and dripping from its ends, his chest rises steadily with each intake of breath as his eyes and focus completely fixates on your injury. It takes you a while to notice and admit, but your foot isn’t the only thing swelling, for your heart swelters and grows tender at the sight of him.

Unlike the bad boy demeanor of Hoseok you had come to know, there’s something so attractive about a boy who’s ambitious enough to reach for the skies, tough on the outside but soft to the weak, and stubborn but willing to own up to his mistakes. This isn’t the dance captain you had fallen for in the dance studio last year. This is a mix of all the unknowns and wonders of the universe, the sun and the moon collided into one.

Why does he have such an effect on you?

Why are you so weak to someone as confusing as him?

Why can’t you convince yourself that the only persona of his you’ll ever like is the one you had fallen for back then? 

It’s as if the mystical moment when the sun reached its zenith high in the sky and its rays showered upon you and him in the midst of the night fallen dance room refuses to leave the back of your mind?

“You know,” Hoseok lowly states, finally trailing his eyes up to find your own wide ones before cracking a smug grin, “I can take you out to dinner as an apology, if you’d like.”

You scoff, jaw slacking wide open, “uh, no thanks. I wouldn’t have been so careless and gotten myself injured if I knew this was the comforting I was going to receive.”

“The ‘if you’d like’ part isn’t a question. It’s mandatory,” Hoseok chuckles before the stern look on his face returns along with the lopsided, pressed smile. “But as much as it pains me to hear that, I’m glad to hear you won’t be so reckless anymore.”

The deafening silence filled with the buzz of the vending machine behind him pushes you to finally address the thought that had kept you up late into the night. “Hoseok,” you utter, and maybe it’s the tone of pity or concern he spots in your voice, but his head and his eyes remain lowered to the ground. “Is something bothering you? Are you okay? Yesterday… you didn’t seem… right.”

Hoseok then settles into stillness, even his fingers stop in the midst of tying a knot in the bandages; but after a couple of more dreadful seconds, he resumes the work at hand without looking up at you. “Yeah, I’m fine,” he mutters before tying the knot and lightly patting your foot to signal the completion of your treatment. He glances up at you and gives you a small smile, “Be more careful next time, okay? For the sake of my poor heart, please stop being so clumsy.”

You snort and lean back with hands planted flat on the ground behind you, “I only sprained my ankle. You’re acting like I broke my leg or something.”

“You might’ve just sprained your ankle this time, but that’s because you lucked out,” he shakes his head. Then, his eyes flicker to gaze straight into yours, as if speaking from the heart, “injuries can be detrimental to dancers, and I know I said you’re not cut out to be a dancer, but if you really want to dance or even remain in this world with me, then please be more careful. Alright?”

“...okay, but be in the same ‘world with you?’ Please, don’t flatter yourself,” you refute, and he chuckles. “Plus, I’m not a dancer.”

Hoseko sits back with his hands spread out on either side of him, planted on the hardwood floor. He cocks his head to the side along with a brow, “who says?”

“You.”

“I was just messing around with you as always. You know that I don’t mean it.”

“But I bet you really meant it. Most of the newcomers aren’t even half as good as you,” you remark. Seeing how swell the mood had become, you decide to test the waters. “In fact, you’re probably thinking I’m just another one of those silly girls who always watched you in dance practice and is hoping for you to make a return.”

Hoseok raises a brow and chuckles with minimum effort, “I never said that.”

“But dancers are…” you struggle to find the right phrase, “dancers are like… you.”

Silence ensues as he watches you with a void hole in his eyes and an amused smile dancing in the corner of his lips.

“Hm…” he hums and lolls his head back and around the other side of his neck. “How so?”

His question catches you off guard, because while the Hoseok you had gotten to know would have gotten irritated and brushed off your question, this Hoseok seems intrigued by your constant pestering.

What should you do? Should you really tell him how you felt? About how you were one of those silly girls who watched him during dance practice? About how you had fallen head over heels in love with the old him?

This is all or nothing; and while something in your gut tells you not to, the irrational part of you follows the spur of the moment and decides to embark on a final mission to retrieve the sun that had long fallen and given rise to the dark night.

“I don’t know… I don’t know how to explain it, but it’s… it’s something about the way you dance. When you dance,” your brows knit as you struggle with your words, but Hoseok remains still as he patiently waits for you to finish your thought, “it’s like the entire room lights up in your presence. Even at night with the shades closed, you manage to somehow brighten the room, as if… as if you’re the embodiment of the sun itself.”

Hoseok maintains his silence, so you continue to fill up the awkward aftermath of your confession.

“You probably don’t get what I’m saying, but it just amazes me what you can do with your dance,” the more you speak, the more you can envision the enlightening moment you had first taken a peek through the cracks of the dance room’s door, “when people watch you dance it’s like the sun revolves around you and time slows, manipulated even, because you’ve suddenly become the center of the universe.”

Getting ahead of yourself, you decide to shut your mouth where you had stopped and fold your hands uncomfortably in your lap as you sheepishly stare the ground; you can feel the piercing gaze of his boring a hole into the top of your head.

“You’re right, you’re not a dancer; you’re a God damn poet,” Hoseok snorts, averting his eyes as he chortles at your splurge of awe-inspiring words before returning to lock his eyes with yours, a mix of amusement and lack of amusement, maybe even irritation, filling the dark orbs of his irises. “You know, you sound awfully like one of those girls who’d always watch me at practice back in the days… sometimes makes me wonder who you really are what your purpose is. Tell me, why are you trying to get me to dance again?”

With the tick of the clock’s hand, the entire world turns upside down. The soft, empathetic Hoseok had dissipated and the curious yet mysterious bad boy had returned. Even with warm, yellow lights illuminating the hallways, all you can see is pitch black and all you can feel is the wrath of the cold at being caught red handed.

Does he know? Or is he merely speculating? You had completely forgotten his previous more than suspicious speculations regarding your identity, but now all of it has resurfaced once again.

“...what?” you barely manage to utter.

And out of the blue, your world reverts to its normal state like the flick of a lightbulb. The warmth of his pressed smile and the shake of his head brings you back into relief, but your panicking heart never fails to initiate the flight-or-fight response in your veins.

“Nothing,” Hoseok laughs and pats your ankle once again before standing up. “There, all wrapped up and good to go. I’ve got errands to run. I’ll see you later, then.”

The extended conversation proves to be rather taxing when you stumble over your own foot the second you get up. Figuring your wrapped ankle and lightheaded state would only hinder you further, you decide to skip the rest of practice and retreat back to your room.

-

Complete darkness envelops you into a dazed state of mind as you awaken from what you discover to be a lengthy nap. Your entire room is pitch black, your head throbs along with your ankle, and you can barely weave your way through your room without stubbing a toe on a furniture hidden in the dark. Your eyes peep open, dry and heavy as if weights were suspended on the edges of your lids, and you clear your throat in a futile attempt to rid the sore scratches of its walls. Unfortunately for you, water isn’t one of the many things you had packed on this trip, so you grab your wallet and keys and stumble your way down to the vending machine.

With each step deeper into the dark halls illuminated by the moonlight pouring into the windows which lines the wooden walls, your consciousness becomes clearer and clearer and your senses begin to pick up things that had only been registered as blurs; the patters of your footsteps, the chirps of the crickets high in the mountains, the buzz of the vending machine, and the distant groans echoing from down the hall…

...the groans and hisses of pain which shouldn’t have even resonated in the halls hours past midnight.

Whether it be a member of the club breaking the rules, an employee of the motel, or maybe even an outsider intruding upon private property, your pulse races at the thought of someone within the vicinity of you. Crouching low, you cautiously and ever-so-slowly tiptoe as much as your injured foot could muster towards the dance room where the noises are coming from.

A few squeaks of sneakers inciting friction between itself and the polished, wooden floor are followed by ample panting and heaving before one last loud squeak and a pitiful yelp which tugs at your heartstrings—collapse.

The sympathetic side of you kicks you into action, and just as you’re about to go running into the room at full speed to aid the person in need, the sight which lies ahead keeps you locked behind the doorway—eerily similar to the past you, peering into the dance room and fearing confrontation…

...except this time, there’s nothing so enchanting about what lies before you.

Something in your stomach falls, pain gnawing away at your gut as if to tell you you should have known. Fallen, head low, chest heaving and lips grunting. Pitiful, vulnerable, helpless, turned against the wrath of the entire world. No one can understand him. No one can feel the mental and physical pain he’s experiencing right now.

The moonlight floods through the windows and showers the sun rays which contaminate him of the looming past until all that remains are the shadows of the facade of the old him he had tried to put up for the sake of you throughout camp. Alas, the full moon reaches its zenith tonight and there’s something about its blinding presence which tells you it’ll be a while before you see the sun.

Teeth gritted and jaws clenched, he crawls his body back against the mirror walls and curls into a state of vulnerability you had never seen before in the tough Hoseok you knew and had reluctantly fallen for; but the thing is, this isn’t that Hoseok. The boy brings one of his legs into his chest and his hands grab helplessly at his lower swelling leg, groaning in pain.

The only reason he isn’t dancing anymore is simpler than you would’ve ever thought. It can’t be the complete story, for the only thing you could see outside of his flooded, frantic mind is the sudden revelation that the only reason he isn’t dancing anymore is because he can’t; however, what lies underneath is of utmost complexity akin to the origin of the sun, the moon, and the universe itself.

[kpopisthereasonihavenolife]

TEASER

Kim Namjoon/Reader [F]

Genre: fae au, fantasy/magic, oberon!namjoon, human!reader,  rebellion, angst, romance,

Warning(s)!!: violence/injuries, pollution?, corrupt gov., cursing, vomiting blood, nudity

Words: tbd

Series | One-shot | Two-shot | Drabble [Rated: T]

a/n: i’ve been working on this story almost nonstop the past two days and it’s growing A LOT in length.  If it get too long then I may divide it into two parts (unless you guys want a monster lol). along with i’m debating on adding a couple scenes I didn’t originally attend to that may raise the rating >>’’ bUT that is still up in the air.  this story isn’t on a lot of people’s radar and ik that, but I’m so so so invest in this story rn it’s taken place as my main wip atm LOL.  I also am putting a lot of effort into proper world building and even if it’s tedious, i’m happy  so far uwu

summary: A world were oceans never existed, but in its place were large and vast forests.  Covering 75% of the world’s surface, the seven deep forests were a mystery that no one could solve.  Treading too far in was forbidden by law, the forest too dangerous with unknown entities inside. Y/n knew better than to do something like go inside, but after a heist to stop the government from polluting the forests, things turn grim. She finds herself waking up in a place she doesn’t know with things far less human and far more magical than the world she’s used to. She finds herself being cared for by someone who claimed he can help her back to her home. Along the way, however, she may just learn something magical about herself that not even a King could have predicted.

[TEASER W.COUNT: 1.4K]

You twitched as you sucked in a sharp breath.  Your body shivered lightly as you peeled open your eyes.  Your skin felt dry and patchy from the water that had dried onto your skin and the mud that dried into dirt and covered your exposed flesh.  Looking up, you only saw the dark sky with patches.  It looked cloudy as rays of faint light peeked through them. 

Wincing, you curled your body inwards and lifted your arms to try and cross over your stomach.  You moved just a moment before you were already exhausted and dropped your limbs back down.  You squinted upwards as your body ached.  The last thing you remembered was you had fallen into the river and slammed into a rock.  It explained your aching head and sore back.  Taking a breath, you moved to roll onto your side before you forced yourself to lever yourself onto your forearm.  

Your legs twisted as you then took sharp bursts of breath before pulling your legs up towards your chest.  Holding your body up with weak, shaking arms, you moved to your forearms and knees.  Hunched over, you breathed heavy and winced in pain.  Your head throbbed as you crawled forward and hooked your fingers onto a piece of a jutted out tree trunk.  

You tried to hoist yourself up to your feet by purely your upper arm strength, but quickly gave up with a shake of your head and a pain laced whine. 

Your bare toes scraped in the grass as dirt gathered under your toenails and your torn clothes threatened to snag in the tree trunk. Your hair matted on the back of your head as the water had weaved it into tangles that were begging to be brushed through. 

You kept your head held down as you squeezed your eyes shut, trying to gather every small piece of mental encouragement you could to get yourself up on your feet.  Mind over matter seemed to be harder than it had been in the past.  Biceps bulging and stomach tensing, you tried time after time to get your weak, shaking knees to hold up the rest of your body.  

Falling back to the dirt and into the trunk for the fifth time, you sat full down, feet trapped under your rear as your hands reached above your head, cursing yourself for being weak.  The wind picked up and the sounds it created made your skin prick with gooseflesh.  The trees moaned as the wind whispered and cried.  

For some reason, it was only when the wind spoke did you realize exactly where you were undoubtedly located.  Your weak grip on the trunk weakened further as your fingers trembled and your lip was sucked between your teeth.  Your body shook, but you couldn’t tell if it was due to the chilled air or the fear of being in a place you knew hardly anything of.  

You were lost somewhere in one of the deep forests and you couldn’t be more afraid.  

Hearing the crunching of leaves, you sucked in a breath and whipped your head up to look for danger around you and froze, seeing indeed something.  Directly in front of you was pure white with a stripe of red staring dead at you. Gasping you pushing yourself off the tree trunk and back onto your ass as your body acted purely on fleeing, dragging yourself through dirt and grass trying to back away from whatever was in front of you. 

A walking stick of wood at their side and a mask covering their face.  No shirt and only fur coating his waist and legs as he walked barefoot.  The grass beneath his feet seemed healthier and brighter than the rest around and you kept staring at the antlers branching out from the sides of his head.  

“No!” You breathed in fear as your body collapsed backward and you could only wave your arms around in a pathetic display of defense. “No, go away! Go away!” Your eyes stung as your panic clenched painfully in your chest as you grew more and more breathless.  Falling to your side, you curled up in terrified, painful trembles.  Your eyes were frozen open as you covered your face with your arms as you heard whatever it was come close to you.  You felt them at your back as they knelt.  You whimpered when it was silent and jumped when they touched your back. 

You gasped as you whipped your head to look back at them and you stilled.  Their hand on your back was warm and somehow, your trembling stopped.  They had set their walking stick aside on the ground as they traced their hand around the exposed skin of yours that your clothes showed. 

You weren’t sure why their touch seemed to calm you. You felt like an animal being tamed as your body seemed to relax.  They leaned over your body as they pulled you back on your back from your side and held your stomach down to keep you from acting up again.  

“Be calm,” they spoke.  A voice deep of a man that was smooth that made your cheeks redden. It was terribly seductive like nothing you've heard before.  Raising one hand to their mask, they pushed it up their forehead to rest it on their head and reveal their faces.  Your breath halted at this man’s beauty.  Skin smooth and decorated in golden freckles.  Eyes sparkling in a hue of the clearest blue and teeth white as snow with pointed canines. “I will not harm you unless you harm me.”  

This man was nothing like you. 

“I-I,” you couldn’t form words as you could only gaze at him.  His brows arched as he saw something in your human eyes.  He had been looking after your sleeping body for 2 days and he had plenty of time to inspect you.  Humans were far different than him.  Your eyes were astonishingly different from anything he’s ever seen, yet they were the most gorgeous.  Something in them zapped with an energy he’d seen only once before in one other being. 

“Can you stand?” He asked as you gasped again at your staring.  You looked at your legs as they twitched and you steeled yourself into pulling them up towards your chest again.  With the man’s help, you sat up and rubbed at your legs like they would help them hold your own weight.  “Do you know how to walk, human?” 

“Of course I do!” You screeched in an outburst that led to a coughing fit.  “O-of course I do,” you repeated.  “It’s just… difficult right now.” 

“What about your arms?” He asked. 

“Excuse me?” 

“Your arms.” He repeated. “Are they strong enough to hold your body?” 

“Well, I don’t know.” The man just remained silent as he moved in front of you.  He grabbed your wrists and lifted your arms up. Pulling you closer to him, you squawked when he turned himself around and pulled your arms over his shoulders.  Your chest pushed against his back before he put your palms together, encouraging you to clasp your hands.  He moved to grab the walking stick at his side before he started standing up. “Woah, hey, hey!” You panicked, unsure if you would be able to hold onto him and not slide back down off this back in a pathetic heep.  

You clutched your own hands at his chest, your arms looped around to his front tensing before he was standing tall.  His stick was placed under your rear, supporting you as he held it up under you like a seat.  Your weak legs dangling in front of him on either side of his naked waist. 

He hiked you up further on his back so your chin rested on his shoulder by his neck.  You could see the bone white antlers of his and see small engravings in them you didn’t notice before. His ears were slightly pointed and darkened at their point now that you saw them under his shaggy pitch-black hair.  He turned to look at you, his freckled face closer to yours and electric blue eyes freezing your breath. 

“I will take you someplace to recover.  The Leaflets will tend to your injuries.” He knocked his head forward, his mask falling back over his eyes and covering the top half of his face. He then began to walk forward.  You watched as he walked flawlessly over the grassy terrain and how grass would bloom under his steps only to wither the moment he lifts his foot up to step somewhere new. 

-x-x-x-

a/n: was that good enough as a teaser? I had so many places and scenes I could tease but I went with this one towards the beginning alksdfjad lmk if you’re excited to read this fic! (pls it’ll boost my morale LOL) 

[nezumionice]

A Study Of Queenie Goldstein

Okay this was initially supposed to be a random headcanon but it grew more and more detailed as I wrote it and I think I’ve gone insane after I finished it because it’s so much longer than I initially thought it would be and I was torn between which plot to go with.

This is basically a character study of Queenie Goldstein and how I would personally interpret her to be like. Many other fics I’ve read describe her as the giggly, sprightly one, whose relationship with Jacob is at the envy of both Newt and Tina. This time I reversed the roles and gave Queenie a little wiser, more matured role, and I also made Newt and Tina’s relationship at the envy of Queenie herself.

This fic takes place a year after the events of FBAWTFT, an AU where there Grindelwald has escaped from imprisonment. There are wizarding refugee camps set up across the world, and this one shot takes place at the Massachusetts campsite. As I’ve mentioned, this did NOT turn out like what I expected and I might (or might not?) add a Part 2 to this. If you guys like it I might do a short epilogue to grant closure to the Jakweenie shippers or something, but the alternate ending I have in mind is mostly sister angst between Tina and Queenie. For now this is what I have.

It’s 10.20pm as I’m writing this, my back feels like it’s going to break, my eyelids are growing heavy; I hope this was worth it and I hope that y’all like it.

Queenie Goldstein was a Pukwudgie back in her Ilvermorny days, but even after she graduated, she still upheld its value of healing. She wasn’t a bad healer herself, both physically and emotionally. She was capable of basic medical rituals and knew a number of healing spells/potions for various injuries. Her telepathic abilities also enabled her to empathise with the emotions people felt, especially pain and grief, which made her an exceptionally understanding young witch. She gained these practices from comforting Tina when she was upset or tending to her wounds after a particularly difficult day in the field. Difficult days had grown to be of quite some abundance recently, ever since the dark wizard Grindelwald escaped from Azkaban. The Aurors at MACUSA had been put on high alert and some were even sent to guard the wizarding refugee camps situated around the country. Tina, as one of the most high ranking Aurors, was one of them. As the wizarding war raged on, Tina had been coming home less and less, from once every fortnight to once every other month. Queenie’s concern for the safety of her sister began to mount, despite Tina repeatedly insisting that she could take care of herself. Finally, on one of the rare instances that Tina had come home, Queenie declared that she wanted to volunteer herself at one of the refugee camps, that she wanted to help the sick and wounded witches and wizards who had suffered the wrath of Grindelwald and his followers, that she could use the skills she had to at least do something in this war, instead of being cooped up alone in the apartment all day. To her absolute surprise, Tina tiredly agreed, and they set off to the Massachusetts refugee camp the next morning.

For the next three months, Queenie had been kept busy on her feet as hundreds of Grindelwald’s victims flooded into the camp every week, all bleeding and traumatised and in dire need of comfort. Queenie had quickly become the main source of it within a week, the shining bright candle of hope amongst the relentless darkness of Grindelwald’s attacks around the world. She soothed the scared, assured the worried, told all sorts of spunky stories to cheer up the depressed. The victims started looking up to Queenie for her kindness, compassion, and her fiery determination to end the war, the most prominent value she shared with her sister. Before long, Queenie had turned the Massachusetts refugee camp into the most ambitious, headstrong lot of freedom fighters who had ever went against Grindelwald. Tina couldn’t remember being this proud as she watched Queenie singing all kinds of inspiring songs by the campfire at night and cooking the best meals the refugees had ever eaten. Even Madam Picquery came down from MACUSA headquarters one day to thank Queenie for her service towards the victims.

But their spark of hope was snuffed out when the Grindelwald killings got worse. An entire village of No-Majs had been openly attacked, resulting in nearly all of them killed. The situation had gotten so bad that not only the MACUSA Aurors had to be sent in, the Ministry of Magic and the Australian Magical Congress were also called to arms. Almost two hundred survivors poured into the campsite within a day; a disoriented, broken mix of American, British and Australian wizards. Newton and Theseus Scamander were among the limping ranks, along with a grim-faced Leta Lestrange (to Queenie’s slight dismay). Tina had returned from battle sustaining a few major injuries, narrowly evading death yet again. Queenie had never been this devastated in her life as it became increasingly more challenging to treat the new victims. What the previous refugees had encountered was nothing compared to this. Queenie started facing more closed-off, reserved patients who either refused to talk whatsoever or rudely asked her to bugger off.

Interestingly though, Leta was one of the few who were willing to cooperate with her, and told her that whoever had been mean to her probably deserved the depression they felt. Queenie didn’t know whether to feel flattered or offended, so she simply begged to differ. Theseus was a wise, intelligent young man, Queenie observed, and he didn’t seem as affected by the horrors of war as the other refugees were. But what intrigued Queenie about this war hero the most wasn’t his charisma or courage, but the fact that there was a sense of longing to him, the longing to go home and live his life free of war. But it was the warm, familiar presence of Newt that spurred her on to continue healing the war victims. This time Queenie didn’t even need to read his mind to know how he felt; Newt seemed to have no objections to verbally spilling what was on his mind. He trusted her to listen, and Queenie trusted him to tell the truth. After all, they were friends. He rambled on about how he had to tame dragons, how things were going in his case of beasts, the worry of Grindelwald getting ahold of his suitcase again, the fact that his father had just passed away, how he was working with Dumbledore to locate Grindelwald, his secret quest to find the remaining wisp of Credence’s soul - but Queenie was touched into oblivion when he mentioned his feelings for her sister (of course, he made Queenie swear to Merlin that she wouldn’t tell a soul about it). Newt mused about how well Tina could duel with dark wizards (including Grindelwald himself) and emerge from battle without a scratch, how he completely and utterly admired her courage, how she could be deadly yet delicate, how the very sight of her warmed his heart every time, how her smile made his whole day, how he would endure a Cruciatus Curse for her, just how much he loved her and that he doubted she would feel the same for him. Queenie straight up told the Magizoologist that he was being foolish and that of course Tina loved him back. Besides, she went on to admit, if more people valued love and affection above death and war, the wizarding world would be a much merrier place.

Queenie thought about Jacob that night. She heard Newt and Tina speaking in hushed, tentative voices not far from her tent, and began to miss her beloved baker more than ever. She wondered whether he remembered her, wondered whether they’d ever get to be together, wondered whether Jacob had rekindled his affections for his ex-girlfriend, wondered the plethora of questions bombarding her head, drowning out the pained thoughts of the hurting victims around her. She wondered, wandered, late into the shadows of the mysterious icy night, wishing with all her heart that Jacob was safe and happy, yet a part of her aching for the sweet taste of his pastries on her tongue. It was only after Tina had emerged from a deep, heartfelt conversation with Newt, only after catching knick knacks of Tina’s elated thoughts, did Queenie finally manage to lull herself to sleep.