#my art block had a stroke and died somehow

[ripecorpsejuice]

hes just a little confused

reference image from pinterest i saw it and immediately had to make this

[lexosaurus]

Everything Was White: Part 12

[see all chapters]

Read on: [ffn] / [ao3]

---

The alarm was blaring.

Danny recognized the noise immediately. But his eyes were still slow to open, his arms were slow to turn off the offending sound, and his brain was slow to recognize that the white ceiling above him was just his bedroom ceiling.

His body was numb. Nothing felt real.

He grabbed his phone off his nightstand and unlocked it. The screen was too bright, but he didn’t care. He’d been through worse. What was a little eye strain to him, really?

There were text messages, but Danny ignored them. The government likely already read them first, so if they were important, Danny would probably have woken up back in his cell rather than his cozy bed.

Ghosts like Danny didn’t get to have comfort. He was unpredictable. Dangerous.

“You’re a feral beast.” Operative O’s deep voice rained down on him. “You need to be trained.”

Danny opened the Twitter app only to be faced with a crushing amount of notifications and his name on the top of the trending list.

He should have felt nervous. Anxiety should have gripped his stomach. But...it didn’t.

He felt nothing.

Numb.

He clicked on his name and scrolled through the tweets. As he suspected, that damn video of him at the PHP littered his screen.

Protests have begun to break out near the health clinic Phantom is attending. [image]

I don’t understand, why doesn’t he just fly into the building or something? Can he not fly?

Is phantom over?

It’s so gross how people feel the need to harass a teenager trying to recover from trauma.

imagine being a teen trying to get emergency mental help and then THAT walks into ur class 

What the fuck did the government do to him? 

He was numb.

Nobody knew what really happened in there, and Danny wanted so badly to keep it that way. And the worst part was, he thought that if he just forgot about it, tried to move past it, then it would all go away. And no one would ever know.

Except Vlad did find out. Somehow, Vlad had managed to get a hold of classified government files about Danny, and if what he had implied was true, then he had learned everything. 

And if Vlad knew, then…

No. He wasn’t going to think about it. 

Danny knew from the moment he’d stupidly revealed himself that his life was not his own anymore. He knew that he was going to be nothing but a government possession from that moment till the day he died.

He didn’t deserve to get upset over this.

He pulled up a blank tweet and started typing. His movements were robotic. Stilted. But one slip-up, just one reason for the public to get suspicious, and Danny knew that some seedy corner of the internet would pounce on the opportunity to dig deeper into Danny’s life than he was comfortable with.

Danny Phantom @dannyphantom Thank you everyone for the support. I’m back home with my family and am healing.

Before he could question what he was doing, his finger was already pressing send on the tweet. He watched as almost immediately, notifications popped up in his inbox. 

But he didn’t open his notifications, he didn’t look at the replies. Instead, he closed the app and shut his phone off.

He didn’t care anymore.

Maddie knocked on the door and asked him a question, and he responded with the right answer for her to leave. He got up and started his new morning routine of sitting in the shower for ten minutes, getting dressed, brushing his teeth, and heading downstairs for breakfast before leaving for six hours of mandatory therapy.

He stared out the window, watching the morning traffic pass by him. He couldn’t remember if he shampooed his hair or if he just sat under the scalding water. But it was fine. He was just a government-issued robot now. Whatever.

There were people lining the highway when Danny pulled into the PHP center. They were shouting different things, holding different signs, their cameras armed and ready as soon as the GAV came into view. The police were there, making sure no one escaped into the parking lot, and there were therapists waiting outside.

They didn’t know. They had no idea what Danny had gone through, why he was there.

And it didn’t matter. Not to them, not to Danny, not to the police or the news stations filming the scene or to the government or Vlad or anyone else. 

Danny wasn’t in charge of his life anymore. 

He was only here because the government had decided he could stay free. 

For now.

The therapists escorted him into the building. Danny felt hollow. Sick.

No, he was fine.

Maddie hugged him, told him to have a good day, that she’d be back to bring him to more therapy after, and Danny nodded. At least, he thought he remembered to nod. He might not have, though.

There was a window in the lobby. A white van was parked along the street.

The APC news van.

Jazz was right. Danny was just being paranoid about the white van outside of their house before. He was so stupid. 

Even if it wasn’t a news van, what would it matter? He didn’t control his life, what would he care if they finished him off in some back alley? What would it matter if they snuck him into their van and held him captive for the rest of his life in some damp containment cell?

Stupid, stupid, stupid.

Danny spaced out for the morning meeting. He couldn’t remember if he managed to read off his paper for the other teens. His voice wasn’t working today. His head hurt. His chest hurt. Everything was numb.

They had art therapy today, run by a tall, lanky man with sandy hair and a clean-shaven face. He told the group to paint what they were feeling today, to channel their emotions onto their blank sheets of paper.

But Danny felt nothing. He had nothing to give.

He must have stared at his paper for too long, because the therapist tried to talk to him, ask him if he was alright, if he was having trouble with the exercise.

Danny didn’t respond, instead choosing to pick up the green paint and squeeze some of it directly onto his paper, rules be damned. It was too dark, so he grabbed the white paint and smeared it into the green. The color still wasn’t right, but Danny didn’t know enough about art to make it right, so he just kept spreading green across his paper. A dash of yellow, then some white, more green.

Time was up. His paper was green. 

“Good job, Danny. What do you think?” the therapist asked.

Danny stared at the paper, studying the streaks of yellow within the brush strokes. “It’s not the right shade of ectoplasm.”

The day continued with more emotion-managing lessons and group activities but Danny didn’t care and nobody could understand that. He was done with this, he was tired, it didn’t matter.

It was lunchtime, and Danny had no appetite. It felt like he had just eaten breakfast. His stomach was still full, but he had a sandwich sitting in front of him that he needed to eat or else they would tell his parents.

Danny held the sandwich between his fingers. It looked like sandpaper.

He didn’t want to eat it.

The therapist was looking at him. She was probably talking to him too, asking him questions about his day. But Danny ignored her. After all, didn’t he need to eat this lunch? How could he possibly eat and talk at the same time?

The teens were talking around him, but Danny blocked them all out too.

They were noisy.

It was like they weren’t even there.

Danny wasn’t human. He didn’t care. 

But you do care. 

He didn’t.

He was numb. 

Eat up like a good little dog. 

I’m not a dog.

Something inside him snapped, and he yanked on his cold core, channeling all his energy to his fingertips. His fingers tingled out of the tangible field, and the sandwich fell to the table.

“Whoa!” The blonde girl jumped, her eyes trained on Danny’s transparent skin.

“Danny?” 

There was an audience. Danny had forgotten about them. His core faltered, and the power faded from his fingertips. 

He should have felt embarrassed by this emotional display. He should have felt horrified that he’d allowed himself to act so inhuman and disgusting in front of these innocent bystanders.

But he was still numb.

“Sorry,” he said. “I was bored.”

“That was sick!” the brunette boy chimed in. “You can do that on command?”

“Usually.” Danny’s gaze flickered over to the therapist, who was giving him a strange look. He turned his attention back to the fallen sandwich. 

Maybe he would get kicked out of the program for this. For being too dangerous. That would probably be for the better. Then he could go free into the world. No more schedule, no more therapy, no more dissecting his emotions or talking about his trauma. 

Who cared about his trauma, anyway? Certainly not him.

“So you still have your ghost powers, then?” the blonde girl asked. “People were saying online that you lost them. The government took them or whatever.”

Danny brought his hand up to his face, willing his fingers to fade to invisibility. “They’re locked. But...I...they’re there. I’ll get them back.”

He would get them back. He needed them. 

Especially now.

Which was how he found himself sitting quietly outside his mother’s door. Waiting. He should have knocked probably, but he didn’t. Couldn’t. He didn’t know why, he knew he should just go back to his room, go to sleep, stop bothering his parents about this, but he needed his core back.

His mom would understand. She was a ghost biology expert, right? She would get why he needed his core back now.

He raised his fist to knock, but he must have already knocked before because the door opened, revealing his mother dressed in teal pajamas on the other side. 

“Danny?” She frowned, her brows pulling cautiously above her eyes. “What are you doing up, sweetie? Everything alright?”

“I, uh—” His voice was scratchy. He broke eye contact, staring down at his lap. “My—my core.”

“Something wrong?”

He licked his lips, his mouth dry. “I need it back.”

“Sweetheart,” she said in a patient tone. “We talked about this.”

“No. you talked.”

She sighed. “Danny, it’s nearly eleven. Can’t this wait till morning?”

“No. No. I need it.”

“I told you, hun, your core and body need time to heal properly first before we make any drastic changes to your physiology. Just give it a few more weeks, alright?”

“Weeks?” Danny’s voice rose in alarm. 

“I promise it’ll be all worth it.”

Static rang in his ears, and a steel claw clutched at his stomach.

His mom didn’t understand. Why would she? She was human. Humans would never get it. She didn’t understand. 

“No, I can’t…”

“Danny, you need to trust me. Your body needs to rest.”

“You don’t understand.”

She regarded him for a moment before opening her door fully. “Why don’t you come in and we can talk, then. You can tell me why this is so important to you.”

Danny peered inside the door, at the surprisingly average-looking bedroom before him. He could go in, tell his mother just how wrong he felt cut off from his core, how he was being blackmailed by Vlad, how there was a distinct record of every detail of what the Guys in White had done to him, how he had never felt so defenseless, so vulnerable in his life.

But he wouldn’t, and he knew he couldn’t. There was no way he could put it all into words. He was a ghost, she was a human. He couldn’t explain this to her.

Skulker and Vlad may have forced his revelation, but they gave him more secrets than he could ever have dreamt of handling.

Danny turned away. “It’s fine. Good night.”

“Hun…”

“Night, Mom.”

There was a tense silence before Maddie finally relented. “I love you, Danny.”

“You too,” he said reflexively. The words tasted sour on his tongue.

She didn’t understand. If she truly loved him, she would give him his core back right now, but she didn’t.

No, he was just being paranoid. This was just his Obsession talking. He didn’t need his core, he was just as much human as he was ghost. So what if he had to be a little more human for the next few weeks? Isn’t that what he’d always wanted?

To just be a regular human?

Maybe that was what his mother wanted. Maybe that was why she was postponing removing the chip. Maybe she was too afraid to see her son as a monster. A ghost. 

But that was crazy. She loved him.

She was telling the truth. 

His parents accepted him.

---

“You seem quiet today.”

Danny leaned back against the sofa, his arms crossed and his eyes looking anywhere but at the blonde figure sitting before him. The stress ball sat untouched on the table next to him.

He didn’t feel like doing therapy today. He didn’t want to talk. 

His mom was human, his therapist was human. No one was going to get it.

“What’s on your mind, Danny?”

“Nothing. I’m fine.”

“Yeah?”

“Yes.”

He was fine. There was nothing to talk about. Even if there were things to talk about—and there weren’t, this was all just his Obsession going haywire—it wouldn’t matter anyway because he was defenseless and the government was going to kidnap him again. It was only a matter of time.

“You finished your first week with the PHP group today, right? How has that been going?”

“Fine.”

“Can you tell me about some of the activities you’ve been doing?”

“I don’t know.”

She sat there for a moment, as if giving him time to elaborate. But Danny wasn’t going to elaborate. He didn’t feel like talking today. 

He looked out the window. The leaves had changed color, the ripe greens fading to yellows, oranges, and reds. In another few weeks, the ground would be littered with fallen leaves.

Summer had barely just begun when he was dragged from his house, drugged, and locked away. And yet, even though his entire world had come to a halt, time still moved on.

The clatter of the therapist’s clipboard falling on a side table jolted Danny out of his musing. He flinched, his eyes snapping over to see the therapist rising from her chair. 

She stretched her arms behind her back and walked over to the closet. “You know what? It’s been a long day. Wanna play a game?”

“Um...are we allowed to do that?”

“I don’t see why not.” She grabbed a box out of the closet and placed it down in the center of the room.

Danny peered at it in confusion. “Jenga? Of—of all the games out there, you’re really gonna make me...make me get on the floor for Jenga?” 

“Oh, come on, it’s fun.”

“You must throw some wild parties,” he remarked, rolling his eyes. Nonetheless, he slid off the couch and slowly scooched himself towards the middle of the room. As long as he didn’t have to explain why he was two seconds away from ripping his own core out of his chest, he would go along with whatever game she threw at him.

The therapist carefully tipped the box upside down, sliding the lid up to reveal a tower of multi-colored wooden tiles jigsawed together.

“So here’s our marvelous tower,” she said. “You can reach that alright?”

“Yeah.”

“So normal Jenga rules. We switch off trying to remove a piece without causing the tower to collapse. Except, for this game, after you remove a piece, you’re going to pick a card from this stack—” She pointed to a deck of large cards set up next to the Jenga tower. “—and then answer the question on the card that’s the same color. So if I take a purple tile out, I’ll answer the purple question on the card. Got it?”

Danny glanced between the cards and his therapist’s eager face. He was fairly certain Jenga never involved a set of cards before.

Maybe he’d forgotten the rules. It wouldn’t have been the first time his brain had betrayed him. “Am I being quizzed?”

“Don’t worry.” She pushed up the sleeves of her blue cardigan. “They’re just basic therapy questions. Nothing too bad.”

No. This was a trick, wasn’t it? To get him to talk?

He wasn’t going to fall for it. “I thought we weren’t—weren’t doing that...today.” 

“The questions aren’t too deep. Honestly, I mostly just use this game as an icebreaker for new clients. But Jenga’s pretty fun all the same.”

He must have still looked too suspicious, because she threw him an easy smile and went, “Here, I’ll go first.” She carefully nudged a green tile out of the stack and drew a card. “Okay, so the green question on here says, ‘Describe yourself in three words.’ Well, I’d say I’m kind, I think I’m rather nerdy, and I’m a bit of a cat lady.”

That...wasn’t so bad. Maybe this would be an easy game. 

He doubted any of the questions asked him about his core. Maybe he could loosen up a bit, go along with this icebreaker game, if only for an hour before sinking back into his internal panic. 

“Cat lady?” he tried.

She chuckled. “I’m surprised that’s never come up! I have two at home.”

Right, his therapist had a life outside of therapy. Outside of his problems.

But it wasn’t like he knew her name. At this point, it was just too embarrassing to ask. Maybe she had told him that she had cats, and he just couldn’t remember. Maybe he would forget it again tomorrow.

Whatever. It was fine. He couldn’t care about things he didn’t remember. “Uh…” Danny pushed a purple tile out of the tower. “So I just pick up a—um, a card?”

“Yup, and read the purple question.”

Danny looked down at his card and rolled his eyes. “Oh, figures. ‘If you had superpowers, what would they be?’ Well, I’m dead. Does being dead count?”

She laughed, her voice light and airy. “Of all the questions, huh? Okay, let’s modify this a bit. If you could only keep one of your powers, which would you take?”

“Probably intangibility,” Danny said, his lack of hesitation surprising him.

“Oh? Why?”

“Well…” He rubbed the back of his neck. Where the chip was. “It’s the most useful, isn’t it? I can just...you know...I have no physical stuff in my way. I can just phase through any—anything I need. Or—no. Almost anything.”

Not shields. Those could still trap him.

Thankfully, she didn’t try to pry further, just offering him a kind nod and a “that makes sense” before pushing out another Jenga tile. “Blue! Alright, my question is, ‘What is your favorite feature about yourself?’ Hmm...that’s a bit tough, isn’t it? But I think my favorite thing about myself is my hair. When I was a teen, I used to straighten my hair, but then when I got to college, I stopped doing that and just let it be. Now I quite like my curly hair. Okay, your turn!”

“Okay.” Danny leaned over and pushed a red tile out of the tower. “Okay...my quest—question is…‘What is your biggest hope for your future?’ Oh...”

He did want to be an astronaut. But that was before, when he was still human. And then he was caught between thousands of volts of ecto-electricity and that future vanished right before his eyes.

What did he want to do with his life? What did he hope would happen?

He wanted his core back. He couldn’t let himself be so vulnerable for much longer. His chest felt like it was tearing itself apart, he needed to—

Breathe. And answer the question.

What did he hope for his future?

“I don’t know. My future’s kinda...ruined, isn’t it?”

“Try to think on a smaller scale.”

“I…” Danny ran a hand through his hair. He wanted his core back, he wanted to be Phantom, he wanted to protect Amity Park. But he couldn’t say that. It made him sound too ghostly. Too inhuman.

Humans didn’t have these kinds of otherworldly desires. She would think he was a freak if he told her. She wouldn’t know how to react.

“I want to finish PT.”

“That’s a good goal to have.”

“Your turn.”

Humming, she nudged a tile out of the Jenga tower and flipped over a card. “Okay, my question is, ‘What is something you were worried about when you were younger?’ Let me think…oh, here’s one. When I was young, my older sister moved out to live with her boyfriend. It was really scary because I had never lived without her, but we kept in touch and everything turned out okay.”

“I haven’t either. Lived away from Jazz I mean. Like—like for real. But she’s going to college next—next semester. I think she, uh...deferred a semester.”

“And you know, it’s common to feel worried about a sibling moving out. Periods of transition in life can be the most stressful for us, but it’s important to recognize that things will be okay.”

Danny looked down at the carpet. “I guess.”

Some days it felt like Jazz was the only one truly on his side. He was a lab rat, too well known and too hated to ever have a future, forever condemned to a vicious cycle of evading people like the Guys in White and Vlad for the rest of his life. Jazz was leaving him in a few months, his friends would follow in a few years, and in the end, Danny would be alone.

But he was fine with that. He’d accepted it. It was just his life now, there was nothing to say about it.

“It’s my turn, isn’t it?”

“Yup! Go right ahead.”

Danny removed another tile. “‘How do you think others view you and why?’” He paused, throwing the therapist a bitter look. “This is rigged.”

“Not rigged, that’s just a very lucky pick.”

“Lucky to who?” Danny groaned. 

What was with the universe finding new ways to torment him?

“Humor me,” the therapist said patiently.

Danny glared at his card, tapping his fingers against the edge. It wasn’t like the public opinion of him was exactly a secret, but it still hurt. Constantly. Like some scab he kept telling himself to ignore, but ignoring it was impossible because the public would never leave him alone.

“Not good,” Danny muttered. “People hate me.”

“Being in the public eye is very stressful for anyone, but to be unique in your way adds on an entirely different layer. People are afraid of the things they don’t understand, and that makes them forget that at the end of the day, you’re still a person.”

“Yeah.” Danny’s eyes were trained on the colorful tower before him, which was starting to blur as the prickling behind his eyes increased. He ducked his head and blinked, hoping to save face before it was too late. 

“That doesn’t mean everyone feels this way, though. But sometimes it can feel that way to you because the ones who are the most afraid, the most hateful, are the loudest voices in the crowd. But remember, Danny, you won that court case for a reason. You have more people on your side than you think.”

“I won it for now, you mean. I don’t...I don’t think…” His voice failed, and he pressed his fingernails into his palms. He took a few shaky breaths. “Sorry.”

“It’s okay, Danny. Why don’t we talk about the case for a minute?”

Tucker’s words echoed in his head, how it was televised. How millions of people all around the globe probably tuned in for it, or watched streams online, each person with their own opinion of him.

But he didn’t want to think about that right now. 

“No,” he said. “Can we—can we just continue the game?”

“If you’re not ready to talk about it, then that’s okay. Thank you for letting me know.”

“It’s your turn.”

“Alright.” She pushed a block out of the tower. “So...alright, my question is, ‘What memory do you treasure the most?’ To that, I think fishing with my dad as a child. He was a big support for me when I was growing up, and I really valued our times fishing together as important bonding moments for us.”

Danny nodded politely, trying his best to not appear like he was counting down the seconds until therapy was over.

He could feel his emotions building inside him, threatening to topple the carefully constructed dam guarding his secrets. This was such a simple game, these were such simple questions, so why did he feel like he was failing?

He pushed out a Jenga tile—a red tile—from the tower and grabbed a card, scanning the questions until he found the red one.

What are you afraid of?

The words echoed back to him, and he pushed the card away. He didn’t want to look at it, he didn’t want to read those words or hear her voice because saying the question would mean he would have to talk and he only agreed to this stupid game to get out of talking.

There was so much he was afraid of that he had no right to be afraid of. Because he deserved this. Getting revealed was his fault, he was being reckless. He deserved all of it.

The experiments with the Guys in White. The pain, the way his skin was torn apart. How they threw him in a vat of ectoplasm the next day to heal, and how the ectoplasm entering his lungs made him feel like he was drowning because even though ghosts didn’t need to breathe, he still used those organs reflexively as Phantom. But he was in too much pain and his brain was too hazy to fight back. He could only sink into the darkness.

The red bag. The way it tasted, smelled, how it haunted him every day and how he revisited those moments every night in his dreams. How he would wake up each day and the drawer on his nightstand would be shimmering in the morning sun, as if tempting him to open it up, grab the bottle inside, let it help just for one day. It can take the edge off, he can be functional. Who cares if he’s cheating? It’s just for a day...

The public. The people. Their judgments, their words. How he was, on a molecular level, so vastly different from them. How he could never be the same. He would never have a normal life, he could never have a normal job, a normal family, normal friendships, ever again. There would always be something there, something alien between them.

Even between him and his best friends. There was just something... different ever since the portal accident. It had brought them closer together, sure, but in other ways it had also driven an invisible wedge between them. Because Danny would always have his powers, he would always be a half ghost, and there would always be things now that Sam and Tucker would never understand. 

How much would change now? Now that he was in the public eye, now that he’d gone through government torture? Now that his brain didn’t work the same?

And his core. His humanity. Why were his parents so apprehensive about it?

What are you afraid of?

Why wouldn’t his parents let him down into the lab? What were they hiding? They said his core was damaged, but it had been months since he was ripped open. His surgical damage had healed, his broken bones were back to normal, and even though his nerve endings in his chest and spine were still fried, they had been slowly mending themselves too.

Ectoplasm healed faster than human physiology. His core should have been fine by now.

What was the truth?

“They accept me,” Danny said automatically.

“Who does?”

Who accepted him?

Sam and Tucker did. 

His family…

Did they?

“I don’t know.”

“You have people in your corner, Danny. Your parents, your sister, your close friends. They all care about you. We’re all here for you, even if those loud voices in the public tell you otherwise.”

But if they cared...

“Then why won’t they let me have my core back?”

“Your core?”

“My powers. My ghostliness. Ectoplasm.” Danny let his eyes flair to emphasize his point.

If his therapist was scared of his otherworldly display, she didn’t show it. Instead, she continued to look at him with her neutral expression, free of the judgment he’d come to expect from people since the accident.

And for some reason he couldn’t explain, that irritated him. 

“You mean the inhibitor chip?” she asked.

“Yes. They told me it was because my core...it was damaged but—but it doesn’t make sense! It doesn’t...”

“Have you talked to them about this?”

Of course he had. They kept repeating that his core was damaged. And they were probably right—for a time, at the very least. But that was months ago. 

Why hadn’t they scanned his core recently? Shouldn’t they be happy to learn it was healed? Shouldn’t that make them relieved?

What were they afraid of?

What are you afraid of?

“Do you think it would be helpful if I talked to your mother about this?” asked the therapist. “As a way to introduce the topic? She likely doesn’t know how much it’s bothering you.”

But that didn’t make sense either because Danny brought his core up every day. His parents knew how much it was bothering him. They had to have known, right?

So why were they doing this to him?

What were they hiding?

What are you afraid of?

---

Danny tried to remember a time where walking from his living room to his kitchen didn’t require a list of steps to be taken beforehand—a time where he could just get up and walk. But those memories were far too distant now.

And besides, this was his reality now. A reality where something as simple as walking made his head spin.

He shouldn’t dwell on the memories of how easy it used to be for him, he shouldn’t have snapped at Jazz for getting a cup of water for him because he knew the glasses were too high to reach from his wheelchair, he shouldn’t allow this irrational anger to overtake him every time the creeping anxiety of his future as Amity Park’s ghost hero came into question.

He just needed to focus on where he was now. Curled up on his couch avoiding his parents.

Everything felt wrong this morning when he woke up. For a moment, he had managed to convince himself that he was just being paranoid. That it was just his damaged nerve endings freaking out as normal. That once he took his medication, his problems would go away. 

But they didn’t. He still felt wrong. His chest still felt wrong.

It was manifesting in other ways too. He couldn’t walk as long today at PT. His physical therapist told him it was just a bad day and that his body was probably just tired from his busy week. But Danny knew that wasn’t right.

It had nothing to do with him being tired. He wasn’t sick. He wasn’t anxious.

His core was the problem. His parents were the problem.

He tried asking about his core again on the way home from PT, using conversation techniques he went over with his therapist at the end of their last appointment, but Maddie just brushed him off. Said they would talk about it later.

But then later came and...she didn’t.

Danny tried asking his father, but he brushed Danny off too. Said Danny needed to focus on healing first.

But how was he supposed to heal when he was missing half of himself?

He felt wrong. So wrong. His body was too bound by gravity, it was too empty, it wasn’t listening to him.

He pressed his palms into his forehead. His hands were clammy. Shaking. Speckles of cold touched them—or was that his tears? Was he crying? 

No.

He pressed the heel of his hands into his eyes. What was wrong with him? Why was he acting this way?

The government had him in a cage. They tormented him in ways he would rather die than live through again. But then it ended, and he was freed. He was allowed to go home, he could live his life as a legal person again. 

Except, he wasn’t free. Not at all. He was still trapped here in Amity, in his house, in his body. He had no control. Not over what he ate, when he slept, where he went, what he could say, what he could think. 

Half of him was still locked up tight with no hope of escape.

His water glass was empty. It would have been too embarrassing to ask someone to help him, but he was so thirsty and dehydrated and he just really needed this to work. He needed his body to respond to him. For one moment, please, just let his body respond.

Gripping the water cup in one hand and his walker in the other, he tried to stand, to walk over to the kitchen sink. But balancing everything was so difficult, his body was still fatigued from PT, and he knew he wasn’t going to be able to do it but he just needed to try.

But he couldn’t do it in the end. The cup slipped out of his hand and tumbled onto the carpet, thankfully saved from shattering on impact by some last shred of luck the universe decided to pity him with.

And now Danny too was on the floor because he couldn’t bend down to pick the cup back up like a normal person, and he didn’t want to call for help, and he couldn’t use any of his powers, and he felt so trapped. So helpless. So vulnerable.

He tried to swallow the lump in his throat, but it was too stubborn and he was too useless.

A tear splattered against his hand, and he gripped the floor, his body trembling.

“Stop crying. Stop it.” he hissed. 

He was weak. 

Plasmius, once nearly his equal, had so severely overpowered him the other night. It was embarrassing. On the hierarchy of ghosts, where was he now? At the bottom with the blob ghosts?

But those ghosts could still fly. They could still turn intangible. Things that Danny couldn’t even do.

Hell, he was so weak that even the Box Ghost could defeat him now.

“Stop crying.”

He crawled back to the couch, the thought of getting water abandoned on the floor along with the last semblance of his dignity. Another tear fell from his cheek, and he desperately tried to ignore it, ignore his dry throat, ignore the pain in his chest, ignore his core and the Y-scar on his body and his new place in the ghost hierarchy as lower than dirt, ignore everything. Just focus on getting back to the couch. Shut down, go numb.

He was fine, he was okay.

He just needed to push through this. Just toughen up, quit whining. Life wasn’t fair. So what if he was now just a regular human? Hadn’t he been human for the first fourteen years of his life? He needed to suck it up.

Dragging himself back onto the safety of the couch cushions, he pulled one of Jazz’s throw blankets around his body and pressed a pillow into his face.

Never in his life had he been so tempted to scream, to curse, to finally let the last brick fall and allow hell to break loose. But his parents were in the basement, Jazz was upstairs, and he was fine. 

He was fine.

---

Huge thank you to tumblr user and writer @imekitty for proofreading this chapter. She’s amazing and I owe her my life.

And as always, thanks for reading!

---

<previous chapter / next chapter>

[unholyplumpprincess]

Change of Heart

Here’s the WidowAna commission! Commissioned by someone who wishes to remain anonymous.

(Older content)

Summary: In which Amelie feels her ice melting away after familiarity strikes her heart and she feels the need to return to Overwatch. Seeing Ana reminds her of what they used to have- and boy can that woman make a girl see stars.

Reblogs > Likes

!!!Minors and ageless blogs dni or you will be blocked!!!

Fandom: Overwatch

Relationship: Widowmaker/Ana Amari (FWB), mentioned romantic interest of Sombra/Widowmaker

Warnings: NSFT/R18+, Widowmaker is a trans woman with facial feminization and top surgery but no bottom surgery: Words used to describe her bits are cock/dick, FWB relationship, bondage.

Words: 2.5k

_________________

Overwatch had banded back together in another stand against the cruelty of the world, a war that would never be won. Of course, it needed to be done secretly- that went without saying. The government wasn’t fond of people with super powers causing a mess of things again. Every former agent that held the recon communicator got the message from Winston.

Even if they were playing for the same team.

Amelie could remember portions of being a member of Overwatch, the entire experimentation on her caused a big jerk in her memories. Yet, the communicator had jostled some more, a little tug in her memories that made her cold heart ache until she was absentmindedly stroking over the shape of it with her thumb, a frown to her plump lips. It would take her months to make her decision after this moment.

For once, in years, she had felt lost and confused. FELT something other than nothing. She once had had a purpose of being one of the greatest marksmen around, never missing, always taking down her prey without a shed of a doubt of anything that came after.

~Rest under the cut~

And yet...In her own mind, she found herself yearning for the smiles she once shared with the ones she used to call her ‘family’.

To Angela’s soft smiles as she checked over for injuries, to Winston acting as the father of the group and making sure everyone was fed, to their newest recruit- Lena- excited to try all the new things and do well. Ana’s kind eyes as she pinched Amelie’s cheek and told her that her aim was getting better by the day. A prideful look that always made Amelie laugh.

A shock had sent her forward in her sleep, eyes snapping awake as if something was calling out to her. Leave, run, go away- her first instincts in years that hadn’t been killer ones. She wasn’t following programming, or orders from men in Talon, something was melting her outer shell away.  Something calling out to her, leave, run, go away, a mantra-

There had been one person in this entire organization she had gotten close to. Or, as close as she could have possibly gotten. Someone who saw past the cold exterior to the woman she used to be- the woman she COULD be.

Sombra.

Sombra had found a way to get Amelie to open up as best as she could, somehow wiggling her way into the spider’s heart until she found herself almost aching to see the hacker smiling up at her. Such a little thing with a hidden story, Amelie just knew she was hiding it.

However, ones who hide together stuck together.

She found herself going to Sombra’s room in the middle of the night that very same night, quietly starting to pack her things for her until the hacker stirred from her position in bed, “Ugh-- Amelie? It’s too early-” She starts to groan, sitting up in bed with her hair a mess and rubbing at her eyes, but she’s startled when Amelie rests a perfectly manicured hand on her arm.

There’s a look they share. Amelie’s eyes don’t look lost and solemn, she looks determined.

A tired, yet mischief filled smile spreads across Sombra’s face with a bit of a laugh escaping her, “Oh we’re being naughty this early? Why didn’t you say so.”

It takes an hour, maybe less to gather what is needed and for Sombra to turn off both the lights and cameras. They’re gone by morning, no sign, no note. And an even bigger surprise for everyone when the one missing with Sombra, is none other than their perfect little doll, their perfect killing machine.

--

The switch back to Overwatch is a culture shock, not to mention the welcome party isn’t very welcome. Not when they see Sombra, at the very least, and the person who nearly killed Lena. Something Amelie only had a flicker of memory about, as if she could recognize her face to a T, but the whole scenario had been a blur. As if she had been a puppet to a ventriloquist.

Once finally accepted after keeping them both in almost interrogation rooms to ensure there was no bugs on them or any nefarious ideas, they were allowed to be apart of the group-. With surveillance, of course.

Lena took Olivia under her wing.

And Ana had Amelie, someone Amelie hadn’t seen in years and could admire the woman even more now.

Her hair was now grayed completely over, not a shock of black in it. Her eyes were just as kind as Amelie remembered them, honeyed and warm with wrinkles delicately framing the outer edges in crow’s feet. Her smile was just as warm, if a bit sad as she reaches to set her hand on Amelie’s cheek, as if checking her over. She’s even shorter than Amelie remembered.

“You haven’t aged a day.” Ana murmurs softly, sounding sad for her and Amelie can’t blame her. Her body was practically frozen at this age, looking just like the young 28 year old Ana remembered. Amelie can’t help it as she turns her head softly into her warm palm, feeding off her heat with a soft sigh. Another small smile makes its way to Ana’s lips, “And still just like a kitten.”

The word makes Amelie scoff, reaching up to hold Ana’s hand firmly to her cheek, “It has been ages since I have been shown...affection. Understand that this does not mean I will kneel to you again.” It’s almost a challenge the way she says it.

They had previously had a thing together, under the table sort of thing. Friends with benefits where the benefit was both women were comfortable in each other’s presence, and of course the ways Ana could make her melt. Before Gerard had captured her attention, that is.

Ana had been her source of affection, pleasure, and familiarity. Her touch could be soft or rough, entirely talented as they’d work Amelie over until she’d be drenched in sweat and sobbing. A dance they both had been familiar in.

Ana showed her the skill of an older woman, Amelie showed her the flexibility of a ballerina.

A soft laugh filters through Ana’s lips, using her thumb to stroke the cold flesh of Amelie’s cheek. “I would never ask you to- not after what you have been through, my dear.”

It strikes a chord in Amelie, something soft, something...familiar.

--

Of course, that familiar warmth, that soft feeling had blossomed. Old habits died hard, after all.

It’s how Amelie ends up in Ana’s room, again, and again, in the familiar darkness of the night. It’s how her plum lipstick gets smeared from Ana’s own mouth or her skin as Amelie indulges in the sweetness of her scent. Of how Ana feels and sounds when her lips wrap around a soft, small breast and Amelie shamelessly ruts into the offered thigh beneath her.

It’s also how Ana finds her own heart pounding harder than it had in years, at least for a scenario like this. How her fingers twirl in Amelie’s long hair, dragging her up to press kisses to her cold face and indulging in whatever she wanted to hear. How she feels younger by the day the more often she keeps thinking of Amelie and getting aroused, having to fight down a blush at the memories of the night prior.

Insatiable, as Amelie had always been.

And now? Now Amelie is in Ana’s room again, but a little differently this time.

She’s completely stripped naked, shuddering as little tremors wrack her frame from both desire and anticipation. She feels absolutely alive in these moments, head tipped to the side and her long hair free as it dips across her pale lavender flesh. Her curves are beautiful, smooth of scars that her body repaired. Her breasts are smaller, surgery she’d had ages ago during her Overwatch days, same with the way her face is gently sloped and molded perfectly for her own comfort.

Between her legs, her cock rests half hard, heavy against her thigh that flexes with tension. Her cock isn’t too big, perhaps about five or so inches with a beautiful curve upwards with a lovely thickness. It’s smooth and lavender like the rest of her flesh, a deeper shade at the head where white pre-cum beads. She’d never gotten bottom surgery, that much she had been comfortable with.

She’s smooth all over, blemish free and hair free. Something Ana found herself learning to like as she ran her hands over her flesh- but not yet, not now.

Amelie has her arms bound behind her back, wrists together and the rope coming to the ceiling to tie around a hook to keep her standing and still. Across her chest and over her abdomen is the rope binding her wrists firmly to her own body, looking much like a beautiful spiderweb. Ana had yet to lose her touch in the art of perfect knot tying.

Amelie’s legs are open, spread with her feet flat to the ground. Her chest is rising and falling evenly, trying to settle her nerves as her golden eyes, heavily lidded with thick lashes, watch Ana like a predator. Yet, in these moments, Ana should most certainly be taking that title.

Ana is stepped a bit back to admire her work, fully dressed in a white blouse unbuttoned at the top with flared sleeves and tight black pants it’s tucked into. It looked rather old fashioned, beautiful on her. Her gray hair is pulled into an over the shoulder braid, curling to between her freckled cleavage that makes Amelie sigh at the sight. A few stray hairs curl over the eyepatch resting over her eye and Amelie would dare say she looked stunning.

If she wasn’t being cruel, that is.

Warm fingers trace up her inner thighs as Ana rests in front of her, petting up and along her curves with her other hand. “Still as obedient as ever.” She remarks with a pleased hum, silencing any protest from Amelie when her fingers wrap around a dusty purple nipple and giving it soft attention. When she inhales sharply, arching into the touch, Ana’s lips form a tale telling smirk. “Just as sensitive.”

Deft and skilled fingers wrap around her cock, giving Amelie slow, languid pumps with just enough pressure. Ana’s thumb traces the sensitive glans under the head, tracing up to her slit and letting pre-cum spill out a bit so she can use it to slick up her movements. Amelie whimpers, rolling her head to the side and letting out a huff of pleasure when Ana’s warm mouth is replaced on her breast.  

A clever tongue flicks over her nipple and makes Amelie’s head swim with pleasure. She keeps her eyes closed, but she can picture Ana as perfect as ever touching her. With one hand working her over with languid strokes and gentle squeezes, her other holding Amelie’s side at where her curve meets the junction of her hip, stroking with her thumb softly in the circle of the ropes resting there.

“Ana-” Amelie breathes out, practically on her tiptoes when Ana pulls from her breast, kissing down her torso between each shape the ropes make. She only hums in response back up at Amelie, a pillow already waiting on the ground for Ana to rest on as she sinks to her knees. A hand gently rests over Amelie’s thigh, petting her outer thigh soothingly as Ana peppers kisses along the underside of her cock.

Amelie’s toes curl, turning her head to the other side before her head bows to watch her with a shaky exhale. Watching Ana’s eye flutter before peeking up at Amelie, letting her lips rub over her sensitive flesh, her hand keeping Amelie’s cock steady as she swallows the first few inches into her warm mouth.

Too much heat, too much warmth, the pleasure of it all- it's too much!

Amelie lets out a beautiful moan, hips jerking to no avail and only managing to tense her bonds tighter around her torso. She murmurs her name again, biting onto her plump lower lip as Ana takes her down with ease.

Practice, she could practically hear Ana chide in the back of her head, makes perfect.

Tension builds in her lower abdomen as Amelie nearly keels over on her bonds. She’s normally quiet in moments like this, nothing but sighs regularly passing her lips, but it seemed a scene like this brought out more of her. A soft swear under her breath, her mother tongue passing across her very lips as Ana keeps taking her into her warm mouth, nosing at her mound as she swallows around her cock-

“Shit-” She whines out in a higher voice, thighs tensing and her wrists jerking to try and maybe bury her fingers in Ana’s hair. To no avail, as her fingers flex and the jerk of her wrists only makes the rope tighten once more around her pleasantly. “Ana,” She tries again, voice high and warning.

It only results in said woman humming, swallowing her back down in a fluid motion as Amelie begins to cum. Vaguely aware of how Ana swallows it down, her hands stroking Amelie’s shaking thighs as if to soothe her.

When Amelie’s eyes flutter open blearily to look down at Ana, she watches as she slowly pulls off her soft cock. Sparing kitten licks and peppered kisses just to make Amelie shake a little bit more before she pulls back and wipes her mouth off on the back of her hand.

“How are you feeling?” Ana asks as she moves to stand up, stroking over Amelie’s curves and reaching behind her in an embrace as well as to pluck the knot from the ropes. “Do you want water? Tea?”

Amelie hums softly in a negative, letting her bonds be free as Ana begins rounding her to help with the bonds, rubbing over the marks left on her skin. “I feel...alive- better than I did earlier.” Spoken calmly, despite the waver in her voice from the tremors in her body. Once the ropes are all removed, she nearly falls on her first step, but Ana gently leads her to the bed instead.

“Come, lie down, you squirmed too much and caused a burn.” Sounding chiding as always, Amelie can’t help but smile at Ana’s fussing. Letting herself rest back on the bed and turn her head to bury herself in the familiar scent of teas and cinnamon.

Ana returns only moments later, a spicy smelling salve being applied to the rope burns across Amelie’s rib cage, wrists, and hips. Massaging into tense muscles as the prior Talon marksman sighs with pleasure and comfort. The entire time, Ana murmurs praise as she works her over, telling her how good she was, how beautiful, just as she starts to doze off. Safe, at last.

Now, Amelie just needed to find a way to get a certain feisty hacker’s romantic attention.

[skeletonwrites]

[BOOK TITLE PENDING]

Marianne Martinez used to be normal. It wasn’t even her choice to become anything else, really. C’est la vie, she says as she breaks into a top-secret supernatural testing facility.

Chapter One, ‘No, no she didn’t’, under the cut. 

Growing up living eight feet apart from someone, you get used to their presence. Their walking gait, their laughter, their every tick and tock. You begin to understand them in a way that isn’t easily accomplished. You know them, and they know you.

Jackie and I grew up next to each other. We weren’t relatives, but we lived in a shabby apartment complex with only a thin plaster in between our apartments that made it so we may as well have been living together. Every week day, Jackie would walk into our (my mom and I lived together, dad having been out of the picture for a long time) apartment, and help my mother prepare lunches for us. In the beginning, he knocked. It didn’t take very long for him to be given his own key. We were inseparable- we ate breakfast, prepared lunch at his apartment (he lived with his older brother), and walked together to the bus-stop. There was nothing we didn’t do together.

Jackie and I shared all our classes, obviously. It was a competition between us, you see. Who could get the best grades? Who could answer the teacher correctly the most times? It got to the point where our teachers separated us in every class. It didn’t matter, we had other ways of communication. By tapping our feet, or hands, we would talk to each other in Morse code. Jackie had been in the library for a research project in third grade when he found a book on Morse. When we got busted for that, we made our own language- we still tapped our feet and hands, but the language was of our own making. 

We weren’t bad kids, though. Our conversations usually consisted of what we were going to do when we grew up, or who we thought was being stupid at any given time, or which teacher we thought would be more likely to pick their nose. Sometimes we cheated (we were kids and didn’t see a problem with that), but for the most part we were mischief free.

However, there was that one notable time when Jackie decided that school was not for him that day. He tapped a quick message to me, took a paper ball, lit it one fire with a matchstick from our backpack- we had a third one we shared between us that we kept our ‘survival tools’ within- and threw it into the trash can. By some power, maybe even from above, no one saw him do it. No one but me even noticed until the smell of burning wicker and smoke became too powerful to ignore. 

School was cancelled for the rest of the day because everyone was required to evacuate. Jackie and I went to a local park with a grove of trees and played pirates.

Our schedule stayed like this for years.

I’d like to say that high school didn’t change anything, that we were able to overcome teenage hormones and treat each other with respect. 

And for the most part? We did. But in the middle of freshman year, Jackie started acting distant. He wouldn’t say anything was wrong, and we still hung out all the time, but something was different. He religiously avoided talking about his feelings in any capacity. It was bullshit. Finally I confronted him in our secret grove. He still refused to tell me what was wrong, so I punched him. He had wasted an entire school semester where we could have been best friends with no problems, but somehow he got it in his head that this was acceptable behavior. We fought, obviously. The grass left stains on our clothes, and leaves stuck in our hair. I got a black eye, he got a busted lip. We tired ourselves out, until we were laying on the ground staring into the sky. The moon was out, stars above and clouds non-existent. It was beautiful. Jackie finally confessed that he had developed feelings for me. Poor man didn’t want to ruin our relationship, so he hadn’t told me. I panicked and came out to him. We sat there for so long, just staring at the sky and thinking. 

The horrid affair was over the next day, and I quickly moved past Jackie’s ill-conceived romance. He moved on from me, too. Life went back to normal, and high school passed quickly in a blur of drama, homework, dating other people, and general teenage angst. 

And then college happened. Jackie decided to major in technology. He wanted to work with computers, and I wanted to work with art. There were no good colleges that offered exceptional courses for both, so we parted ways. There were tears, but life had to move on. We stayed in touch; every Tuesday, Thursday, and Sunday, we video called each other, catching up and talking about our problems. Jackie got a girlfriend, I focused on my homework. Life was as smooth as college can be. 

And then college was over. I was shoulder deep in student loans and other debts, and Jackie was just making it by on a seventy hours at his job each week. I had to cancel my internet, and Jackie and I only texted sometimes. We lost touch, and I didn’t notice until it was too late. 

I worked at a museum for a while. It was fun, but the income was only enough for my basic necessities. To pay off my debts I worked as a nanny on the side, while also freelancing my own art. Life wasn’t so bad, for the most part. I had acquaintances everywhere I visited to say hello to me, I lived in a small apartment with my cat, and I was steadily building a savings while paying off my debt. 

It was comfortable. I finally reached out to Jackie again, though I had to search a bit to find him. He lived five hours away now, working as a technician for a big name brand. Lucky for me, he also missed our friendship. We started messaging each other regularly. Six years of distance left a huge gap, but we figured we could mend it some. 

And then I was approached by a government agent. He came to my front door, wearing a neat suit and holding an official looking briefcase. I hid my weed and tried to look like I wasn’t high off my ass. Hopefully he wouldn’t bust me for smoking.

That wasn’t what he wanted, as it turns out. He was there to recruit me. He said his name was Agent Cole, and that I was perfect for a job they needed done. It was only a one time thing, he said, and I would be paid sufficiently. Obviously I was extremely suspicious, so I told him I would think about it. He gave me his card, then left. I sighed out of relief and sat back on my couch.

I had no intention of accepting. I told my mom about it, and we discussed possible scenarios. She said to take the job. It might be shady, but I had debts to pay, and I didn’t want to live with that all my life, did I? 

I called the number on the card, and then waited. It didn’t take long. 

They briefed me on what needed to be done, and then let me loose. My job was to look up ways to hide a fist sized object from everyone. When I suggested tossing it into a nearby river, they specified that they wanted  no one to ever find it. Every week I gave them my ideas, and every week they rejected them. In a speedbump, in a tree, under a skyscraper, in a brick. Nothing.

I was almost about to give up, when I realized that it was a challenge- not a job. They were testing me for something. And so, I gave it my all. Never let it be said that Marianne Martinez backs down from a challenge. 

Every week, I gave them ideas. Every week, they rejected them. Every month, they paid me. It wasn’t a bad setup, and I continued my freelancing while doing it, as well as nannying. My debts were finally paid off, and I could begin to save more money. I began to move forward with my life. It was satisfying, to say the least. 

The research eventually turned into other things, as my mom had predicted one late night. They never really told me much, but they did train me. Every evening, from six pm to nine pm, I was either in the gym, running, or researching things for them. They said that any government agent went through the same training, I wasn’t a special case. I stopped complaining after that. I don’t recall them ever providing evidence that they were genuinely government workers, but I couldn't care less. I was paid, I was healthy, and no one really cared what I did in my free time.

My agility and speed grew with my confidence and knowledge. Everything was looking good. I had made some progress, I thought, on my research. The supernatural means of hiding were looking better every day that my ideas were rejected.

And then my mom passed away. It was a stroke, the doctors said. She had been cooking, probably for a neighbor down on their luck, when it happened. No one was there to call an ambulance. She died, alone on the kitchen floor.

It tore me up. Why hadn’t I been there? Was my life so important that I wasn’t there when she needed me most? I arranged a funeral, and used a third of my savings to make it as good as I could. If I wasn’t there for her in life, I would be there for her in death.

Jackie came to the funeral. He had changed. He was thinner, less confident, slouching. He didn’t look too good, but I couldn’t say anything about it. I’m surprised I noticed, honestly. I had other things on my mind. He and I grew closer after mom’s death. Every weekend, we would go to a cafe and talk. I always paid.

He moved closer. He said it wasn’t because my mom died, but it looked to me like he had no other reason for coming back. He now lived two blocks away, close enough to walk to his house in the dead of the night, when memories of my mom grew to great to remember alone.

He didn’t have a wife, he said. He and his girlfriend broke up ages ago, and there hadn’t been anyone since. Was I doing fine? Did I have a partner? No, I was much too busy. What did I do? Oh, I do freelance art. Is that enough to get by, really? How was my debt? Surprisingly, yes, it is enough. I’ve paid them off, but what about you? Are you doing well? For the most part. Mostly, sure. He was fine.

And time passed. He grew thinner, more ragged. He wasn’t eating, though he didn’t outright say it. It took me three months to get him to move in with me. 

We fell into a new pattern. He would make breakfast, since I had always hated cooking though I wasn’t bad at it, and I would clean up. I would go do errands, whatever needed to be done, and he would either stay home or go out. He never said where he went. He would clean the apartment, and I would bring lunch from somewhere. I would clean up, and we would go our separate ways again. Supper was always ready when I got home. I always cleaned afterwards. I would then leave to work out, or train, or research. He would do his own thing. There were variations, of course, but that was mostly it. Routine was easy to fall into. 

And then, one  day, I came home and he was gone. His stuff wasn’t anywhere to be seen. There was no sign of a struggle. I didn’t call the police. He was a fully grown man, after all, and I didn’t need him financially. It was callous, but I hoped he moved on to better things. Maybe he would be back, maybe he would keep in touch.

It hurt, though. We had been close. At least, I thought we were. 

My research had hit a block. No matter where I looked, no matter what I thought I had found, the agency was never satisfied. Eventually, I began to look more into the arcane. Wizards and witches, elves, goblins, fairies. I had finally given into the urge to follow that line of thought.

Fairies, in particular, interested me. They were said to have powers of undefinable proportions. They were beautiful creatures, tall and fair. In one book that I read, during a feverish night of desperation, I found an passage of interest. 

“Woe to those who seeke

What they cannot understand,

Woe to those who find

For their fate is worse” 

It was practically nothing, but my sleep deprived brain latched onto it. Who was seeking? What were they looking for? Could I use this to hide the agency’s object? Was there such a thing as magic, real and powerful and present?

I learned about the Folke, as they called themselves, but I left that one passage alone. It wasn’t enough.

Strange things began to happen at my apartment. A moved book here, a light turned on there. Nothing much, but just enough to spook me. I looked into it, of course, but I could find no reason for anything supernatural to bother me. I hadn’t stolen any fruit, I hadn’t moved any ancient tombs, I hadn’t called on any ancient beings. 

Small nuisances turned into inconveniences.  My car keys, lost for two days. Milk gone bad the moment it was put in my fridge. My cat outright refused to sleep in my room anymore. 

And then bad things began to happen. The water heater for my apartment complex broke for three weeks. Electricity was out for days on end, ruining all my cold food and making it unbearably hot. It was summer, after all. A window broken, a rotted roof, a nail in my tire.

It got to the point where I told my handler from the agency, Joanna, about it. She seemed disturbed.

And then I got a note on my door.

“We told you not to

But did the seeker listen?

No, no, she didn’t”

[jhope-seok]

The One That Got Away

Disclaimer: All of the things mentioned in this story are all works of fiction and have been made up by me, the author.

Genre: Angst. So much angst.

Members: Suga x Reader

Length: 3,652 words

Warnings: mentions of cigarettes, alcohol, anxiety, and cheating.

Note: This is inspired by my personal real life experiences and the two people in my life I consider the ones who got away. If you would like to cry as much as I cried writing this I made a playlist. 

(Note#2: the italicized portions are flashbacks. and it switches back and forth between Suga’s and the Reader’s POV).

Masterlist

It’s a breezy summer night, the sun having just set over the buildings and leaving a bright pink sky in its wake. The city is still busy, cars honking and people rushing to get from A to B or from B to C. Maybe even from Y to Z. You’re just another face in the crowd, rushing home from work, ready to unwind after a long day of work with a fresh pack of cigarettes. Your hand clasps around the pack in your purse to make sure that it’s still there, the anxiety leftover from work still coursing through your veins. You tap your foot against the concrete, wishing the light to change faster.

“Only one more block,” you chant in your head with every second that ticks by.

Then, your phone buzzes against your side. You were going to ignore it, telling yourself that whoever it was could wait until after you got home, undressed, and lit your first cigarette. But something tells you to check it now, makes you think that maybe it’s important. Your eyes stare at the number on the screen. It’s not one you recognize;  you wonder if it’s a random number text, an accident that you could share with your coworkers the next morning over that first cup of coffee. You open it, but what you read catches you off guard and suddenly stops you in the middle of the crosswalk.

“Y/N--I’m in the area. Are you free to meet up?

--Suga”

“High school isn’t going to be so awful,” Suga thought to himself as he sat in his photography class. If he got to sit next to you every day in this class for the next year he considered that a win. You were beautiful to him, and he could tell that in an instant he loved you. The way your hair perfectly framed your face, the way your eyes lit up when you smiled.

He loved you.

You’d been extra friendly to him, turning to him the moment you sat down, introducing yourself. He even loved the way you spoke. Your voice was a song all on its own, and he wanted to listen to that song over and over again every day until he died.

You both became quick friends, your shared interest in photography fueling the fire. He found that every moment he spent with you he fell more in love with you, yet while he was sure you felt the same, there was a nagging feeling in his head that you were holding back.

Then one day you didn’t hold back anymore. Suga had asked you what you were doing that weekend in an attempt to ask you out on a date. You uttered a word that broke his heart:

“Oh, my boyfriend and I are going to go catch that new movie that just came out. What are you doing this weekend?”

Boyfriend.

That was the first time you got away from him.

“Suga. I’ve missed you.”

Delete.

“Why did you stop calling?”

Delete.

“Sure, meet me at the park by the river in an hour.”

You hit send as the elevator opened to your floor. You walk in your apartment, kick off your shoes, and quickly undress right inside the door, heart pounding at the sudden change in your nightly plans.

You were at your first party since you’d broken up with your boyfriend of a year and a half. Suga had been trying to get you out of the house to do something since the breakup, convinced that all you needed was one night out of the house to feel like yourself again.

He’d been really patient with you after the breakup, always there to console you when you needed him. He was quick to cancel on other people for you just to rush to your house with ice cream and a movie in an attempt to get your mind off of your shitty ex. You found out your ex had cheated on you with a girl on the dance team and it’d been the hottest gossip around school. Everyone called you stupid for not knowing. Everyone said it was obvious.

Everyone but Suga.

Suga called him all the nasty names you couldn’t. He made you feel better, reassuring you that it was his fault for being a dick, that you did nothing wrong to make him cheat on you. He did that of his own volition and Suga said he was stupid to hurt you like that.

You’d started falling for Suga somewhere near the end of sophomore year. That was why you didn’t feel as bad about the breakup, why you figured you’d been so oblivious to your own backstabbing boyfriend: you’d stopped caring for him and instead opened your heart to Suga. When your boyfriend emotionally retreated, Suga was the one who filled the gaps that your boyfriend left behind.

Even after everything happened, Suga was still filling the gaps in your heart.

The music at the party was loud, ringing in your ears, pounding in your head. But Suga drew you closer against the couch, talking in your ear so you could hear him clearly. Alcohol coursed through your veins, clouded your mind, blocked out the other people staring at you sat on the couch with him. You knew from the way they stared that they were still talking about your breakup. They were probably gossiping about the way it looked, you and Suga so close together. But with Suga, nothing else mattered.

The alcohol calmed you, loosened the tension inside of your body that you hadn’t realized was holding you back from enjoying yourself. In your drunken state you wanted so badly to let Suga know how you felt. You wanted him to make a move; you wanted to fully open your heart to him. But you felt that even in your proximity something was keeping him at bay from you.

When he got up to refill his drink, you felt overwhelmed with a sense of loneliness and emptiness, one that made your heart ache to have him back. He took longer than you expected to return. You tried to tell yourself that it was okay, that he was coming back. But when you got up to go find him, finally brave enough to venture into the party on your own, you found him kissing another girl in the kitchen.

That was the first time he got away from you.

Standing in your room only in your underwear, you open your closet. You wonder what would be best to wear to meet him again after so long. You don’t want to look like you tried hard to look good for him, but you want to look as good as you can. Your eyes land on a sweatshirt in the back of your closet. When you take it out you realize it was the sweatshirt he had lent you at the end of high school. You forgot you had it. You pull it on, surprised to find it still fits as perfectly as it did back then.

But, staring at your reflection you think better of it and replace it in the back of your closet, wishing you could let go of the feelings that come with the sweatshirt.

Your house was quiet. You could hear your parents upstairs watching TV, the volume just loud enough for you to hear mumbled words through the floor to the basement.

You and Suga were sat on the couch in your basement, your head in his lap, the decorations from your graduation party still hung over your heads. It was a joyful moment for you, excited that the horrors of high school were finally over, excited to move onto college where you believed you’d be able to find yourself.

But it was also an extremely sad moment. Suga was leaving you; he’d decided on an art college that was five hours away. You remembered the day he told you where he had decided to go, remembered the smile you plastered on your face for him, remembered the grief you hid behind your eyes. It was a hard school to get into, but your feelings for him had only grown stronger over the last year. His last relationship with that girl from the party was short, but he seemed more reserved after it ended.

He was stroking your hair as you both talked about all topics but the one that loomed overhead. You spoke of last minute summer plans, old memories from the past four years, teachers you’d miss and teachers you hated. But somehow, your tears still betrayed you.

They began to stream out of your eyes without you knowing at first. It wasn’t until Suga said something that you realized you were crying, really crying. You sat up and tried to hide your face in your hands, but Suga wouldn’t let you. He held your hands and asked you to tell him what was wrong.

His face was blurry through the tears, but as you spoke you could tell he felt the same way you did. He wiped away your tears and told you that there was no way he’d ever forget you, and he wouldn’t let you forget him. He took off his sweatshirt and gave it to you, placing it over your head and told you to keep it. Forever.

He held your face in his hands and told you how much you meant to him and kissed you. It was so natural. His lips felt like they were meant for yours. But when it ended, your tears didn’t stop.

You and Suga decided not to pursue a relationship, agreeing that long distance would be harder as a couple. You wanted to kiss him until the day you died, but at that present time you were both parting ways, paths crossing once only to move farther away.

You had him for a second, only to have him get away for the second time.

The night air was brisker than he had expected it to be against his cheeks. He wasn’t sure what drove him to text you earlier. In fact, he wasn’t sure what had driven him to your city. He suspects it has something to do with having just been fired from his job. They said it was due to his lack of drive, that he was no longer a team player and wasn’t performing up to their standards. His girlfriend had broken up with him for the same reason. She said he acted like he didn’t love her.

She was right.

He hadn’t seen you or spoken to you in over three years. His only form of communication with you was through likes and comments and reposts of pictures and posts on social media accounts. He’d seen you twice since you’d gone to college, trying to remember what drew him back to you even after those times.

Less than a year had passed, but it was torturous. Suga couldn’t focus in class, couldn’t sleep at night knowing that you were apart from him. He felt like he’d made the worst decision in his life letting you go when he literally had you in his arms. He thought about the way your lips felt against his every moment of every waking day. Whenever he was able to sleep, it was all he dreamt about.

He was close to failing all of his classes because he couldn’t focus in his lectures, always thinking about you. He had to have you. He needed you more than ever. So he drove down to your campus in the middle of the week to surprise you.

He already knew your schedule by heart, having discussed with you your hatred for your early morning classes and your breaks between classes in the afternoon where he’d call you to hear your voice. The only thing he didn’t know was the layout of your campus, the buildings your classes were housed in. He managed to find the student center rather easily, and a helpful student inside had been able to point him in the right direction of your afternoon class.

The sun was hot on the back of his neck even as the sun sank lower in the sky. His fingers shook so much he had to shove his hands in his pockets. He had run over his plan in his head so many times he was dizzy. Suga couldn’t wait to see your face as you came out of the building, couldn’t wait to kiss your lips again and tell you how much he couldn’t be without you.

He wanted you to be his forever. He wanted to look into your eyes and know that you loved him as much as he loved you. He wanted to hold your hands and feel your pulse race underneath his fingertips. He wanted to be with you for every moment of the rest of his life.

After waiting for what seemed like forever, people began to pour out of the building in front of him. He shifted back and forth on his feet, trying to catch sight of you, eager to have you in his arms again. Then his eyes found you, and his heart lifted into his throat, now unsure of what he was going to do or how you were going to react.

But in a second, all of that became meaningless.

You leaned your head to your right, resting it on a shoulder that connected to another boy. A boy whose fingers were intertwined with yours. A boy that was not him. A boy he wanted to be.

That was the second time you got away from him.

You make your way through your city to the agreed upon park and try to remember every detail you’d learned to forget about Suga. It hurts to remember some of the things—the way his smile started out at his teeth but grew to show off his gums and light up his eyes, or the way he tilted his head slightly when you said something he pretended not to like, tongue in cheek as he tried to hide his smile.

You wonder if he’s the same Suga you loved; you wonder if he’s the same Suga that used to love you.

You check your phone one last time to see he’d sent you his exact location, and as you round the path through some trees, you catch sight of him sitting on the bank near the river. Your heart pounds as you remember the last time you saw him.

College had gone by in a blur. Suga had managed to pull himself together during sophomore year of college, drowning his misery over you in cigarettes and whiskey, replacing one addiction with another. He drank at night to put himself to sleep and smoked during the day to be able to focus in class and on his papers.

Graduation had passed, and he’d moved home for the brief period before his new job started. His job was closer to his college and further away from you. But while he was home you’d managed to contact him, and convinced him to go out for drinks.

He sat next you at the bar, finding it easy to relax back to his old self. As he looked at your face, everything he’d tried to suppress for so long came rushing back to him. He found it hard to ignore his feelings, hard to stay seated when all he wanted to do was kiss you, hold you in his arms and forget the rest of the world existed.

But you didn’t look so bothered being so close to him. You smiled easily, touched him casually, brought up old dates and past relationships without so much as a second blink. It killed him to hear you talk about all the boys he wished to be, but he smiled and commented when appropriate, keeping his true thoughts to himself.

There was a second where he almost thought that you were staring longingly at his lips, but he blinked and the moment was gone in an instant.

When another man approached you and asked if he could buy you a drink, you gave a generous smile and blushed as you twirled your hair in your fingers. Suga caught the man’s eye and he stopped before ordering an asked a quick, “Oh I’m sorry, are you…” with a gesture between you and Suga.

“Oh, we’re,” you started, pausing as you stared back into Suga’s eyes. Suga tried to communicate that you should say something else, anything else to make this man go away, but you continued.

“—not together.”

That was the last time you got away from him.

Suga was exactly as you remembered him. His smile was the same; his hands were the same; his smell was even the same. It was almost comfortable.

You weren’t surprised to see he’d started smoking, his first cigarette already lit as you approached, smoke trailing from his mouth. He didn’t stand when he saw you and you didn’t expect him to. Instead you sat, lighting your own cigarette, your smoke mixing with his.

Instead of asking him why he asked you out on such short notice, you opened with a statement framed as a question, “You smoke?”

“So do you,” was his only response.

You thought back to your first cigarette, all those years ago in college after you broke up with your boyfriend of one year. He’d broken your heart after you found out he’d only dated you for sex, and when he’d grown tired of you he moved on to another girl. He’d been like all of the other boys you’d ever fallen in love with. All except for one.

The silence that fell between you and Suga was painful. Everything you’d held onto for all those years came bubbling to the surface. Everything you ever wanted to tell him was right at the back of your throat, aching to be let released. But somehow you held it back.

“Do you remember in college, freshman year. I came to visit you?”

You turned to see him watching his cigarette, eyes fixating on the embers as they fell. You recalled the day he spoke of, but you couldn’t fathom why he would bring it up.

“You surprised me outside of my class.”

“I was going to ask you to be my girlfriend.” He finally turned to look you in the eyes. “It was hell for me to be without you. I was failing all of my classes because all I could think about was you.”

Your heart stopped and you struggled to keep your tears at bay. Your words were harder to keep down.

“Do you remember that party junior year of high school? After that asshole broke up with me? You kissed that girl you wound up dating.”

Suga didn’t say anything, just took another drag of his cigarette.

“That was the first time I remember wanting to tell you I loved you,” you confessed, inhaling on your own cigarette. “The first time I wanted you to kiss me. But you kissed her instead.”

He watched you carefully. You hid your tears with your hair.

“What would have happened?” He asked suddenly. “What would have happened had we been together—would we still be together?”

You met his eyes, no longer caring if he saw your tears. He had tears in his own eyes, but he was holding them back better than you. He continued.

“Would we be married? Would we have kids?”

You were aware of the fact that his questions only lead to good outcomes, and you knew that he was right. You and him together could only have led to good things, it would only lead to good things if you could be together now. You had left so much unfinished between the two of you the last time you’d seen each other, and now it felt that even though you’d opened up to each other about your hurt, there was so much left hanging in the open.

You finish your cigarette as silence falls between you once more. The silence now is even more painful than the first. Now you know how he felt, his words having confirmed your heart’s deepest desires, you want to reach out and kiss him more than ever before.

“Suga,” you start.

“I met someone,” he whispers.

You stare at him and his eyes are watching the river’s edge ripple against the shoreline. “Me too,” you lie.

When he doesn’t say anything more, the silence now unbearable, you wipe your tears away and stand. “It’s late. I should get going. I have work in the morning.”

He doesn’t meet your eyes, but he turns his head to stare at your feet. With a wordless nod, you have your goodbye.

As you lie on your bed that night, fresh cigarette burning between your fingers, you stare at your phone, your earlier text conversation with Suga shining brightly in your eyes. His number is emblazoned the top of your screen and you read it over and over to yourself, wanting to forever remember this number, not once letting it stray from your memory.

You’d put his sweatshirt on when you’d gotten back home, digging it back out of where you’d put it earlier. If you couldn’t have him this was the closest you were going to get, so you wore it imaging the fabric is his arms, and the hood his chest.

Your fingers linger over the send button, a message you had typed earlier staring back at you. The cursor blinks at you neverending, disappearing and reappearing like the love you’d shared for each other over the years.

“I still love you.”

You take one last drag of your cigarette before putting it out.

[imagineyourstars]

@9panda11 requested a jealous s/o who wants affection from their boyfriend, and here’s part 2 ! with Leo, Mika, Shinobu and Natsume !

Leo :

There he goes again. Sitting on the ground and scribbling on the walls like a particularly rebellious five-year old. He’s humming too, not even registering the pile of blank music scores you left nearby for him to use.

“Leo—“ you start, but he immediately shushes you, eyes throwing daggers your way.

“Shhhh ! Can’t you see I’m busy ?! Sheesh, us geniuses are treated like garbage these days…” You feel another headache coming. How are you going to clean that up ? No, as much as you just want peace and calm, you can’t let him draw on the walls of your house.

“Listen, Leo, I just gave you music scores, can’t you use them—“

“I said shhhh ! What if the inspiration suddenly—“ He gasps, eyes wide open, then lets out a long pained yowl and you rush his way, worried he’d accidentally hurt himself yet again.

“Are you alright, Leo ?” You’re on the verge of panicking, examining his hands carefully to see where he’s hurt. Turns out he’s completely okay, now gripping his hair with both hands and rolling on the floor, letting out what appear to be genuine sobs.

“The inspiration…. ! It’s… It just flew away ! What am I going to do now… I failed you, Mozart ! Pardon me, Vivaldi… !” You softly bite your lip, somehow feeling guilty now. Maybe it’s really your fault ? How could you make up for it… ? At a loss for words, you opt to just sit on the floor beside him and speak your feelings.

“I’m sorry, Leo… I didn’t want to, uh, break your concentration or anything. Can I help somehow… ?” He doesn’t even look up at you, still crying a puddle on your floor and rolling around. Dirty clothes don’t seem to be his biggest concern. Worried he might hold a grudge against you, you suddenly add : “You know I’d do anything for you…”

You almost jump in surprise when he suddenly bounces back to his feet, eyes bright and lips stretched in a wide smile. “That’s it ! ‘I’d do anything for you’, that’s exactly it ! I won’t lose to you, after all, Mozart !” And with a happy laugh, he’s back at it again, completely ignoring you. You look at him scribbling (on the music sheets, this time) with a sigh and just go back to sit on the couch.

To be honest, it’s not what you were expecting when Leo said he had a day off and he wanted to spend it with you. But then again, what can you even expect from someone as unpredictable as him… You can’t resist and steal another glance at him : he’s still humming and composing his new masterpiece, seemingly very comfortable on the cold and hard floor. It seems you completely disappeared from his world… and it makes you more than a little jealous.

It’s not that you mind him being so happy writing songs, really… It just seems it’s the only thing on his mind. Well, he can be affectionate out of the blue but it’s still pretty rare. You can’t help but sometimes wonder if he truly loves you as much as you do… You sneak another look at him : he’s still composing. He looks a little bit more frustrated, though. How long until he gets angry and starts to complain about suddenly disappeared inspiration ? Not that you’d wish for it to happen, but… if he could come and spend a little moment with you, you wouldn’t exactly be against the idea…

Maybe there is a god and maybe he’s heard you, because Leo suddenly stops writing, now pouting unhappily. Ah, looks like art block struck again… He tries to get back to it, but just frowns and shakes his head vigorously. He doesn’t seem to be pleased with what he just wrote… That’s the perfect occasion : you get to both comfort him and get some attention from him ! You’re already up, sitting next to him again and hugging him tightly from behind.

“Did inspiration leave again ?” you whisper, your hands slipping in the ventral pocket of his hoodie. He just nods weakly, staring at the floor. You can’t help but giggle when he starts pouting again and leave a kiss on his cheek, smiling when he nuzzles into your touch for a moment.

“Yeah. Left just like that : poof, no more inspiration.” He sighs, but quickly gets back to smiling when your lips start trailing down his neck, and he promptly adds : “Aaah, not there, I’m so ticklish !” Of course, you don’t listen and start blowing raspberries against his neck. His giggles are probably your favorite sound : they’re so bright and happy…

But before you can torture him much longer, he turns over so that he’s facing you and hugs you close, fingers drawing weird patterns only he can decipher on your back.

“Missed you”, he whispers, his bright green eyes looking happily into yours. You can only smile at that, and kiss the tip of his nose.

“Missed you too, Leo.”

Mika :

To be honest, you’re sometimes wishing your boyfriend wasn’t as much of a hard worker.

After giving his all during Valkyrie training, he left to his part-time job, only to come back at your place in time for dinner. Naturally, he helped you with the chores, before reviewing the choreography for Valkyrie’s upcoming live. He quickly hit the shower and is now sitting at the kitchen table, working hard at sewing his costume. You’re sitting on the couch, reading a book while he works, but soon realize how late it’s getting and get up, stretching.

“Mika, are you coming to bed ? You’ve had a long day, right ?” He just nods absently in response, still trying to figure out where he should put his needle next. Well, he still looks busy. You smile at him before leaving to take a shower yourself. The hot water works wonder on your tired muscles, and you smile when you spot Mika’s shower gel, which he brought along with the rest of his stuff, sitting primly in a corner. Once you get out of the bathroom, in your pajamas and feeling refreshed, you come back to the kitchen. Mika’s still here, facing away from you. He’s diligently sewing.

“Aren’t you tired ?” you ask, coming near him to stroke his shoulder gently. To be honest, he felt quite… off, tonight. He hasn’t been speaking a lot, seeming elsewhere. You thought he was just busy, or tired, but now that you notice his leg twitching nervously under the table, you can’t help but worry about him.

To your surprise, your boyfriend just shakes his head at your question. The dark circles under his eyes look more prominent than ever, though… Is he lying ? Could he really be that busy ? Your eyes fall on the costume he’s sewing : it’s just his good old Valkyrie costume. You still try to engage a conversation with him, your fingers caressing his back.

“Are you mending your costume ? Did you damage it or something… ?” You don’t really see why he would be sewing it otherwise, and when he suddenly turns his head away from you, you know you’ve hit bullseye. So he damaged his costume, huh… Well, Shu can be pretty scary when someone rips something he’s sewn himself, so you’re not that surprised Mika would want to mend it as soon as possible.

But still… You glance at the clock, wincing when you see the time. It’s really getting late, and you’re worried about your boyfriend… He needs sleep badly, you can just see it clear as day on his face. Yet he’s still stubbornly doing his best, fingers clumsily working on the fabric.

“Come on, Mika. You need to sleep. We’ll think about your costume tomorrow, okay ? It can wait—“ He suddenly interrupts you, fist tightly gripping the dark red fabric.

“No, it can’t.” Your eyes slightly widen : it’s not often you hear him raise his voice…

“But you’re going to feel awful tomorrow ! Besides it’s fine, it’s just your good old costume ! Trust me, it can wait a bit—“

“No !” He downright shouted this time. You’re faintly aware of little droplets falling on the fabric, darkening it.

“But Mika—“ You shyly try to speak, and he interrupts you yet again, even louder.

“Ya just don’t get it ! Ya don’t know how much that costume means ta me !” He abruptly sniffles, and when he looks up at you, you can see he’s angry. Maybe at you, maybe at himself… Hurt, you just turn your back to him and go back to the couch, picking up your book and sitting with your back to him.

“Fine. Do whatever you want. It’s not my business.” He doesn’t answer, and you can hear the fabric softly rustling again as he works on it. At first, you’re focused on your book, determined not to let what just happened get to you. But as minutes pass, you’re starting to feel awful.

You invited Mika to your place to make sure he gets some food and rest, and now you just argued with him over a costume… ? Besides, maybe he’s right and maybe you don’t understand the value this costume has to him… But to your credit, you were just worrying about him ! And he’s been pretty cold with you tonight, focused more on idol work than on you. Maybe that made you a bit on edge and you’re a bit jealous too…

You sneak a glance at him : he’s still sewing, but doesn’t seem very pleased with himself. Eventually, he turns a hesitant gaze at you and gasps when he catches you looking. He immediately turns away, and you’re left to smile. Maybe it’s not too late to make up…

When you get up to join him, he stands up in his turn, putting his needle away and shyly rushing to your arms. He hugs you tight, closing his eyes when you kiss him gently. Your thumb brushes against his wet cheek, and he’s smiling at you when you softly move away.

“Sorry. I’ve been a lil’ on edge tonight… and a bit cold ta ya too.” He lets out an awkward little laugh that dies instantly in his throat when you kiss him again.

“It’s fine, me too. Maybe I was a bit jealous…” He shakes his head, stroking your back.

“Nah, really, ‘ts all my fault. Let’s just go ta bed, okay ? It’s as ya say, I’m really tired…” He yawns suddenly, emphasizing what he just said, and you just smile before taking his hand in his, leading him to your bed.

After all, you could really use some warm cuddles tonight…

Shinobu :

Well. That was definitely not what you expected when you called Shinobu and told him you’d be alone at your place tonight. Oh, he sure came rushing, happier than ever to spend time with you. But he also came with a huge bag, which you now realized was full of ninja props.

“And this is how I perform my Fire Breathing Jutsu ! I can show you how it works too—“ He’s already inching a plastic bottle filled with a weird liquid you can’t identify to his mouth, and you barely manage to stop him in time…

“No no no, don’t worry, I’m, uh… good. Besides, isn’t it dangerous ?” He looks a bit relieved at your interruption, putting the bottle away.

“Well, it does tend to get a bit fire-y !” His eyes are twinkling happily, maybe at the mention of fire… Or maybe just because he’s happy to show you all his tricks.

“No ‘fire-y’ stuff in my house, Shinobu.” You’ve seen him starting small fires at school often enough to know this is a terrible idea. He shakes his head dejectedly, rummaging through his huge backpack.

“This is a shame, I won’t be able to show you my Jumping Through A Ring Of Fire Jutsu… What could I show you… Oh, this one is fairly inoffensive ! Maybe !” You incredulously mouth that last part again. Maybe… ? Well, your phone is sitting on your lap, ready to call 911 should an emergency arise, so you’ll probably be fine.

“Is there an immediate risk for anyone involved ?” you hesitantly ask as he gets a large cloth ready. What is he going to use that for, you wonder…

“Normally it should be fine, but being a ninja is a risky profession !” He’s proudly swelling out his chest with those words, and you smile encouragingly at him while he gets his cloth ready. This is definitely not what you were expecting, but if it makes him happy… Once he’s done hiding behind the large cloth, you can only raise an eyebrow.

“This one is fairly impressive, if I do say so myself ! Three, two, one…” You distinctly hear him taking a sharp, steadying breath before he suddenly shouts : “Invisibility Jutsu !” He suddenly drops the cloth, leaping to the ground and rolling under the table to hide there. You hesitantly clap, unsure if the technique is already over or if there’s something else that’s supposed to happen.

Shinobu proudly gets out from under the table, cheeks the faintest bit of pink. “This technique is very effective, isn’t it ? I am myself in awe every time I use it !” He beams at you, and you find his smile is contagious.

“You still can’t completely disappear, I take it ?” you ask with a giggle. He vigorously nods, looking very pleased of himself regardless.

“Unfortunately, actual invisibility is an impossible feat to achieve, but I think I am getting pretty close to the real thing !” You kind of want to tease him and ask him what happens if there’s no table to hide under nearby, but he’s already looking into his bag again. Another trick ? As much as you love them, mainly because your boyfriend is so happy to show them to you, you find yourself wanting a quiet, peaceful moment spent cuddling him instead…

“Shinobu ?” You call out to him, but he doesn’t seem to hear you. He’s already in his own little world… He puts the cloth back in his bag before getting a pocket mirror out.

“How about I show you my Cloning Jutsu now ?” You eye the pocket mirror, barely repressing a smile. As much as you want to see this one, you have other plans.

“Shinobu, wait a moment. Can I show you one of my own techniques ?” He just stays there, dumbfounded, for a moment. When he finally fully assimilates what you just said, he’s excitedly bouncing on his feet.

“Were you training too… ? How amazing, I have always dreamt to form a ninja duo with you ! I’m all ears !” He hurriedly comes to sit next to you on the couch, gesturing for you to get up and show him your tricks. You just shake your head and stay seated, taking his hand in yours. He jumps a bit at the sudden contact, and you find yourself whispering.

“I need your hand for this one… I call it Entrancing Jutsu.” He nods, already completely enthralled by your presence. Perfect. You lean to him, inching your face closer to his with each passing second. His cheeks are getting increasingly redder, but he bravely holds his ground and carefully observes you, eager to see your “trick”. That’s when you suddenly kiss him.

He lets out a muffled yelp, clearly panicking, but you put a hand on his cheek and gently stroke it. Your other hand is still holding his, and your thumb is soothingly tracing circles on the back of Shinobu’s hand. Your trick works wonders and he soon relaxes into the kiss, shyly squeezing his eyes shut. When you try to get away, he leans into you and gently pecks your lips again, before looking up at you. His cheeks look so hot they could be melting any second…

You can’t help but laugh when he confusedly puts a trembling hand on his lips, as if to check what just happened was real.

“So, you liked it ? Isn’t this technique just the best ?” you tease him, smiling when he hesitantly nods before timidly hugging you.

“It was v-very good. I think you’d make for a very talented ninja…”

Natsume :

You can’t help but feel you’ve walked right in the lion’s den. And said lion is looking at you with an amused little smile.

When Natsume offered you come at his house on a Saturday, you accepted innocently enough. Who wouldn’t be happy at the prospect of spending time with their boyfriend ? Certainly not you.

The only thing is, he doesn’t seem to be paying any attention to you. He’s been sitting at his desk, busy working on a new experiment ever since you arrived. So you’re just sitting on his bed awkwardly, waiting for something, anything, to happen.

Noticing you’re wriggling uneasily, Natsume turns to you with a devilish little smile, one that almost makes you think he’s doing all this on purpose.

“I’m awfully sorry. If I had known I would be so busy, I wouldn’t have offered you come here.” You smile at him, shaking your head.

“No, it’s okay, Natsume, I understand ! It’s just—“ Oh, he already turned back to his work. Well, so much for that. You’re left looking at his bedroom, intrigued by his decoration choices. A newspaper cut on the wall catches your eye, displaying a middle-aged woman in typical fortune-teller gear smiling mysteriously at the camera. She looks a lot like Natsume…

On the shelves, you find a lot of books about the paranormal and spirituality. There seem to be an awful lot of candles and weird symbols too… What is that in that plastic jar over there ? You throw a quick look at Natsume, wondering if he’d mind if you go and have a look. He turns to you for a split-second and gives you a little smile. You guess it means you’re good to go. You find a lot of jars, most of them containing dried plants. What does he use those for… ?

“They’re for witchcraft rituals.” You jump a bit in surprise when you hear him suddenly speaking. When you turn to him, his back is still turned to you. How the hell did he see you ? You suddenly meet a pair of golden eyes in a mirror on his desk, convenient angled so that he could see you. He smirks at you briefly, before seemingly going back to his experiment. This whole room feels like a movie set. Worried you’re going to find something even weirder, you just go back to sit on the bed.

Now that your curiosity is satiated, you’re feeling pretty bored. You can’t help but wonder if that was his intention… Well, you did come for Natsume, so it’s understandable you’d feel a bit lonely if he doesn’t pay any attention to you, right… ? You sneak another glance at Natsume : he’s still working silently. What you can’t see is that his smirk hasn’t left, far from it…

A short moment later, you put your phone on the bed with a sigh. You did try to get busy playing a game, but you’re still feeling lonely. Now you just want Natsume to be done so that you can spend time with him… Maybe you could cook together ? Or play games ! Wait, that’s not a good idea, he wins every single time. Well, it’s still fun even when he wins.

“Natsume ?” you hesitantly ask. His hands stop mid-gesture, indicating he’s listening to you. “When will you be done with this… ?”

You swear you just heard him chuckle for a split second. “I’m afraid I need another few hours before I complete this project.” Your eyes widen immediately at his response. What ? What kind of science experiment takes hours to complete ? By now, you’re almost sure he’s just toying with you.

And that gives you an idea. If he’s toying with you, you’re going to show him you can toy with him too. You nonchalantly remove your jacket, exposing a bit more skin. Natsume’s shoulders barely even stiffen, but he did react… You tug a bit on your top, then run a hand in your hair. When you start softly biting your lip, your hear the sound of glass hitting glass, and your boyfriend barely manages to catch the test tube he almost dropped.

That’s no good. Determined to push it a step further, you lay on Natsume’s bed, hugging his pillow to your chest. It smells faintly like him… You tilt your head to the side, looking pleadingly into the small mirror you can see on Natsume’s desk. You meet his golden eyes for just a second before he hastily looks away. So he was staring, huh…

“Natsume… Come and cuddle with me ?” His hand is slightly trembling as he’s trying to carefully put a drop of whatever’s the liquid in the vial he’s holding into another tube. You can tell he’s trying his hardest not to look into the mirror again. Looks like you still need to try a bit harder…

You get up suddenly, walking towards his desk. He’s still working, but it looks like he’s waiting for you. Not wasting time, you tightly hug him from behind, pressing your chest against his back.

“Natsume… I’m feeling lonely…” You pout, before hiding your face in his neck and leaving a few kisses there, like he’s so fond of doing to you… He just puts the vial he’s holding on the desk before spinning his chair to face you, taking you on his lap in a swift movement. He’s still smirking, but the tip of his ears is just the slightest bit of pink.

“What exactly are you trying to do, hm ?” He whispers those words very close to your ear, softly blowing in it to tickle you and chuckling when you try to move away from him. Try is the word : he’s holding you so tight you can’t move…

“Now you’ve caught my attention, little kitten… But I wonder, aren’t going to regret it ?” He’s still smiling, but his eyes are serious, and he’s looming over your neck threateningly.

And when his lips suddenly dive onto your skin, hands tight around your waist to prevent you to move, you know he’s not letting you go away until he’s satisfied.

[seouldsoul2kpop]

Only You pt. 2

Characters: Jimin x reader (ft maknae line)

Warnings: Mentions of blood/death, angst & smut

Word count: 14,455

A/N: Hello! This is part two for you! Friendly reminder, this is in first person, your name is Hana, and everything italicized is a memory. I hope you enjoy! Please let me know what you think!

Part 1

Her screams called me back to the present moment, my eyes falling on the elderly man’s body still curled up in pain. Jimin was still on the phone, telling the operator what was going on as the wife cried for her husband to keep fighting. I blinked, suddenly having my view blocked by a tall figure. I looked up at him knowingly, his grin greeting me. He pressed his finger to his lips, silently chuckling, revealing a cute smile that didn’t reflect who he really was. I swallowed as he stepped beside, allowing me to see Jimin hunched over the old man once more.

I swallowed hard, taking in a deep breath before pushing the bus doors open, running away from the truth before it could truly catch me. The faint sound of the ambulance called me back as I turned to find that sinister grin standing in the doorway of the bus. He looked over at the chaos he’d caused for a moment before turning back to me. He rolled his neck, and in the blink of an eye that young sleeping girl from the bus stood in his place, rolling her neck just like him before stepping off the bus, disappearing into the darkness.

I stepped away, watching as paramedics finally appeared, running onto the bus to assist the old man. I watched as Jimin got to his feet, stepping away from the body to let the paramedics do their job. His eyes were soon looking towards the back of the bus, searching for me of all people. He ruffled his hair as he realized I’d left while he was busy saving a life. His head fell, but a smile tugged at the corner of his lips even still. The corner of my mouth mimicked his as I ran back home in the rain.

The smell of freshly brewed coffee filled my senses as I stared at my textbook. I had been reading the same line for quite some time, but it all sounded the same. I closed the book, fully ready to go back home despite having pulled myself out of bed on a Saturday to get more classwork done. At this point, I didn’t understand why I tried to be so human when I knew everything there was to know, and I could teach any subject I wanted to, but I’d always gone through the motions. Each life trying to live the life of various types of people. This life, all I wanted to do was be a normal college student with good grades, and the determination to have a career in my field of study, but this life was slow, too slow for me to happily pretend.

I sighed, placing my book in my backpack. I heard a chair scrapping across the floor as I packed up, shortly after, someone cleared their throat, calling my attention. I looked up absently, my mind going into a panic as that smile ripped through my being. He was all black today, a black hoodie with black jeans, and a similar decoration of silver rings on his fingers. He combed his fingers through his hair as he took a seat in front of me, his hair falling perfectly on his forehead. He placed a to-go cup in the middle of the table, pointing at it, his eyebrows raising amusedly.

“You strike me as a tea drinker,” he chuckled, “It’s green tea.”

“I’m not drinking that.”

“Why not? It’s free.”

“Anything could be in that cup.”

He laughed, understanding the meaning behind my words almost instantly. He grabbed the cup, taking a sip of it, and swallowing a big gulp before placing it back in the middle of the table. He shrugged, smiling at his actions.

“See, nothing’s wrong with it.”

I reached for it, taking a sip, part of me hoping I would be able to taste him somehow. The tea was still refreshing as it warmed my throat.

He was smiling at me when I set the cup down, a look of admiration in his eyes.

“Why are you looking at me like that?”

He smiled bigger, “Spend the day with me.”

I laughed, getting to my feet with my bag in hand, and my free cup of tea.

“I have things to do.”

“Like studying,” he teased, raising one eyebrow; amusement rose again, shining in his eyes, “Come on…I’ll take you anywhere you want.”

“Anywhere?”

“Anywhere.”

He got to his feet, pulling out a set of keys from his hood pouch. I bit my lip, fighting the smile as he made his way out of the café, turning when he realized I wasn’t following. He extended out his hand, waving me over to him. My heart fluttered annoyingly fast as I took the steps towards him, allowing him that much more of a hold on my heart. Without even realizing it, the world already seemed brighter.

 A woman’s heart was being ripped out of her chest by the god of love himself, his fist still in her chest as she gripped his arm for dear life, pleading with him to stop with action alone. She appeared to be falling to Earth although she was being held up by the hold he had on her heart, while all the other gods watched. Even then, the woman somehow looked at peace. Most people couldn’t see it, but there was a faint outline of her lover in the clouds beneath her, extending his arms out to catch her before she fell. I only came to this art museum to look at this picture. I could stare at it for hours, running through the multiple ways this tale could have ended.

I scoffed, turning away from the painting for the first time since we’d arrived. My eyes fell on Jimin leaning against the glass wall. He looked lost in thought as he crossed his arms over his chest, watching the people on the sidewalks go about their daily lives. For a moment, he looked unbearably sad, a dark look in his eyes that I’d never seen before in all our lifetimes together. I gingerly stepped forward, my footsteps not enough to snap him out of his thoughts. I stood mere feet away from him now, my body naturally mimicking his posture as I stood at the opposite side of the window. I smiled, fondly remembering all the times I’d watched him like this. Suddenly, as if he’d been called back to the real world, he turned his gaze towards mine; a smile immediately gracing his features as he watched me from afar.

He grew serious the longer he stared at me, his eyes reflecting a sincerity I hadn’t seen in a long while. He stepped forward, his arms falling to his sides as he got closer to me. My heart was jumping out of my chest the closer he got, it was practically in my throat when he came to stand only inches in front of me. He brought his hand up to my face, his fingers practically being eaten by his oversized sleeves, and he stroked my cheek. He caressed my cheekbone, seemingly trying to remember every curve as he moved to my temple, his fingers grazing gingerly before falling to my jawline. He hovered there, his eyes staring at my lips for a minute before meeting my eyes again. I barely noticed I was holding my breath as he leaned forward ever so slowly. I pushed my back further into the wall, trying to run from a fate already sealed.

“Why do you make me feel this way?” he whispered, his breath ghosting across my lips, “Hana,” he moaned, sending a warm shiver down my body, straight to my core.

He was almost at my lips, his plump flesh beckoning for me to lean forward, and close the miniscule amount of space between us, but a woman with a loud microphone called us back from the world we had slipped into.

“And over here we have the ‘Only You’,” she chimed too enthusiastically.

Jimin looked up, giving me enough room to step to the side, my head spinning from almost having him again. In that moment, I looked up, suddenly realizing she was talking about the only painting I came to see. I stood, frozen, listening to the story I’ve heard over a million times.

“This was created by an unknown artist, but it was found in the archives of a Greek temple long ago, in practically mint condition,” she smiled, “The story goes that there was once a Goddess, she was known for being all-knowing, more all-knowing than the rest; the memory keeper for all the Gods! She fell in love with a human, and she decided she’d give up everything to be with him,” she scrunched her face excitedly, falling in love with the tale even more as she told it, “It’s believed that the Almighty God wasn’t too happy about her deception, after all, she was promised to the God of Death. When the God of Death discovered her heart belonged to another, he asked the Almighty God to grant him one wish, and he’d always be faithful without question. He asked to have her banished from the Heaven’s, not as a mortal to live out the rest of her days with the man she loved, but as an immortal still graced with her knowledge,” she made an “o” face, drawing in a cacophony of curious whispers, “However,” she shouted, animating her entire body, “The God of Death wanted complete control over her lovers life, always being the one to decide when he would die,” she nodded, a big smile plastered all over her face, “And with that ability, he asked the Almighty God to always bring her lover back to life, only allowing him to remember her when death knocked at his door.”

Everyone made sounds of disbelief. A small kids hand quickly raising after a moment of silence.

“Why is it called ‘Only You’ then?” the child questioned.

“That’s a very good question,” she boomed, “It’s believed that before he died for the first time, she told him that he was the only person she’d ever love—so”

“So, she sits and she waits for him every lifetime, waiting for the moment she can finally tell him she only wants him,” I interjected, all eyes turning to me, including Jimin.

The tour guide stared at me, a hint of annoyance in her eyes that she couldn’t tell the children her favorite line. My eyes found the child from earlier as they looked at me amazed, fully accepting the story as truth when another child mocked the tale, cooing that the God’s were never real in the first place. Everyone laughed except the kid who was most intrigued by the story. I scoffed, walking towards the stairs so I could leave the truth behind.

 Jimin was silent as he drove the car to our new destination. Clearly, he had something to say about my comment, but he hadn’t found the right words. I leaned my head against the window, the sudden coolness comforting me more than anything else was. For once, the silence was eating at me. I wanted him to say something, anything to make the pain go away.

“You only looked at that painting when we got to the museum,” he paused, “Why?”

I chuckled, “It reminds me of the things I’ve forgotten.”

“Like…what?”

“Youth,” I whispered, “Love.”

“You’re different than her,” he said thoughtfully.

I looked at him, his eyes glued to the road as he drove through a windy road. His words rung in my ears. He would never remember who I was until it was too late. He’d never remember who we were, what we were, or what we felt together until his last moments. I looked away, tears threatening to break free if I didn’t distract my mind with something else.

 I breathed in the salty air, my body shivering from the cool breeze emanating from the ocean, but it was subdued by the sun beaming through the cloudless sky. I walked through the water, trudging through the ocean water as we walked down the beach. Jimin had opted out of venturing in the water, walking level with me, but in the safety of the dry sand.

When I turned to him, he had stopped with me, but his eyes stared off into the distance, glazing over thoughtfully as they had in the museum. I wondered what he was thinking about, but I quickly erased the thought from my mind as I ran for him, grabbing hold of his hand while he was caught off guard; I pulled him towards the ocean, both of us toppling to the ground in the process. When I looked up, I found him smiling at me, slowly erupting into a fit of laughter at my antics. I smiled at him, laughing along with him. A warmth comforted me, reminding me of what things were like whenever we were together.

I hadn’t registered our bodies pressed against one another, mine on top of his, until he grew serious again. He watched me, the same look of admiration in his eyes. My smile fell for a second, only to be revived by the ocean crashing into our bodies. We both hollered, the cold-water seeping through our clothes. I began to pull away, but Jimin pulled me back, his hands quickly finding purchase on my cheeks as he pulled me down, catching me off guard like I’d done to him. At first, the shock and panic took control of my brain, my hands quickly embracing his forearms in a weak attempt at fighting him. I watched the peacefulness in his face as his eyes shut, taking in the moment.

I fought it, fought my mind from falling—my heart from erupting—but his lips were softer than I remembered. They tasted like cotton candy—a vanilla sundae on a warm day. I gripped onto his arms tighter as he licked my lips, probing me to let him in. I fought against myself, but I couldn’t help myself as I opened up for him, already yearning for more. His tongue was like velvet as he kissed me, dancing with mine in a melodic trance. He moaned softly into my mouth, suddenly calling me back to reality. I pulled away, gasping for air as I got to my feet. I stared down at him as he looked up at me in confusion. The waves crashed to the shore, once more crashing into us gently. I ran back to his car, fighting all my emotions—good and bad.

He chased me, but I was silent as he called to me, and I remained silent as he unlocked his car door. I slammed the door shut as he climbed in, his silence telling me he knew I wouldn’t respond even if he tried. He sighed, starting the car up, and making the journey back to my place.

As we drove alongside the ocean, my mind wandered, seeing flashes of the beginning, and as the crisp blue of the ocean abruptly turned into a wall of sand and grass, I couldn’t stop myself from going back to the beginning—the first time we met.

I blinked, taking in a deep breath as the wind stirred. I listened to the trees, and the blades of grass behind me, as they were woken from their own listlessness. I exhaled, my eyes falling on the shallow water of the river in front of me. Everything was slowly dying, the rivers were drying up, the crops were turning into rot and dust before everyone’s eyes. It was a slow process, drawn out by the Gods, angered by the fading loyalties. People were created to worship the Gods, not to forget all that they’d done for them. I clenched my jaw just as a rustling noise behind me pulled my attention away from the riverbed. I turned my gaze, looking over my shoulder, my eyes falling on a crow emerging from the tall grass—a harsh contrast to the yellowing fields. I watched it fighting the wind, barely moving from its original position, but it still flapped its wings, occasionally opting to spread its wings out completely, allowing the wind to hold it up.

I turned away, down casting my eyes to stare at my bare feet instead. I was going to step in the riverbed, I was going to walk into the water, as far as I could go, and I was going to wait for it to dry up. In a week’s time, the river god would grow impatient waiting for the usual sacrifice, but it wouldn’t come because the river folk were dwindling, forced into a life within the safety of the city.

War was coming. I could see it, the sound of people’s screams, and the taste of spilled blood—wasted youth—clung to my senses. I was tired of seeing it. I was tired of being worshipped, fully knowing the outcome of someone’s prayers before it even left their mouth. I was tired of not being able to answer people’s prayers. I chuckled at myself in disbelief, the irony of the situation hitting me. God’s were created to give people hope, yet, the truth was, we were selfishly hearing their prayers for the rush—knowing their fates were in our hands. It was never about helping them; it was about helping ourselves.

I only needed to take a few steps to reach the edge of the river. I took a single step, my body feeling weightless as I did so. I’d barely taken my next step when I suddenly heard a hurried rustle behind me, the sound of something crashing through the grass drawing my attention. I turned my head, but everything happened too fast for me to react as a body crashed into mine, the force knocking me forward. I caught myself, my hands planted on the dirt beneath me.

My heart was racing, my mind in a panic as I tried to search my mind for the path I could take, but everything was, for the first time, hazy. I snapped my head up, my eyes falling on the figure kneeling by the river, hurriedly picking up a few crisp, red apples. His head turned, eyeing the tall grass as angry voices shouted from the depths of the field, several blood thirsty threats echoing through the air. I watched as a satisfied grin pulled at the corners of his mouth just before his eyes finally met mine. He froze, the curve of his plump lips forming into a straight line as his hand gripped onto the last apple still resting on the ground.

The shouts were getting closer, but time seemed to stop as I stared at the stranger before me. Everything about him looked pure to me. His hair a shimmering brown, the edges of his hair falling lightly against his eyelashes; his skin was milky, smooth all over; his eyes round, captivating, as they seemed so innocent staring back at me. A dog barked, piercing my ears, and pulling us both out of our daze. He hurriedly turned away, picking up the last apple, and lunging into the river. He trudged through, slowly making his way to the other side as I replayed the look in his eyes—his grin. I blinked, taking in a sharp breath as I got back to my feet. I watched him make it to the edge of the woods just on the other side. He stopped, slowly turning his head, his eyes finding mine again.

Even from this distance, I could see the warmth in his eyes, pulling me into a trance, until he turned away, disappearing into the trees. I clenched my hands as the men I assumed to be chasing him crashed through the grass themselves; their dog barking furiously at me. I turned, my eyes falling on the dog, calmly threatening it into silence. The soldiers cleared their throats when their brains registered my presence. My eyes fell on the first person who stepped forward, a sickly smile on his face.

“My lady,” he slightly bowed, “I’m sorry to disturb you, but you haven’t happened to see a young man running through here…have you?”

I glanced between the men behind him, five in total, all clearly hunters of some kind. When my eyes finally met the leaders again, I turned my body towards his, my mind already putting together all the outcomes before they could happen.

“I haven’t seen anyone,” I spoke, “It’s just me.”

He laughed, looking around the area, rightfully suspecting me of lying. He trusted his dog’s nose, and his intuition, more than he trusted a random maiden in the middle of nowhere. He took a long pause, his eyes raking over my body, his mind clearly thinking of all the possibilities.

“And what’s a lovely lady like yourself doing out here all alone?”

“I’m waiting,” I muttered, my eyes falling on his hand as it gripped the sword around his waist.

“Waiting for what?”

I looked into his eyes, darker than the night sky. I didn’t owe him an answer, nor did I owe any other human who asked me an answer. I scoffed, an image of him going after the stranger tugging at my brain. If I said the wrong thing, he’d go after him, but for some reason something deep inside of me didn’t want him to.

“What did he do?” I asked, curiosity suddenly taking hold, and the unwarranted need to save him toying with me.

“He’s scum,” he snapped, “One of those forest folks who thinks he’s entitled to take whatever he wants,” he stepped forward slowly, his stride filled with an egotistical sway, closing the distance between us until he was close enough for his breath to fan over my face, “You should be more careful, my lady. There’s all sorts of dangerous folk ready to take from us fortunate ones,” he reached up, his finger tracing my cheek lightly, “he’s a thief, and I intend to make him pay for all that he’s taken from me,” he laughed, “Us.”

I looked him in the eyes, a desire burning in his eyes that was a mix of lust and a sadistic rage. I smirked, knocking his hand away from my face.

“You won’t find what you’re looking for here.”

He licked his lips, his eyes staring at mine for a moment too long before he waved his hand. The men accompanying him slowly disappeared into the field. He backed away from me slowly, his eyes never leaving mine, his smile never faltering.

“I’ll be seeing you again,” he stated as he reached the edge of the field.

He waved, retreating with his men. I chuckled half-heartedly, turning away to stare back at the forest. I felt my gaze searching for him, wanting him to appear if I willed it. I didn’t expect to see him again…after all…I couldn’t see his future.

The air was sticky, my clothes clinging to my body in a sweaty mess. It seemed to be the hottest day of the year. I had been wandering the woods aimlessly, not hoping to find anything except the creatures who dwelled there. Occasionally birds would rustle the leaves, drawing my attention up to the cloudless sky peeking through the trees. I couldn’t find the will to stop walking. I’d been walking for days, searching for something I didn’t understand. My body was reacting to the elements like a human body should, even a dull tiredness was seeping through my pores, begging me to stop for a moment, but I kept moving. Leaves crunched beneath my bare feet as I stumbled further into the woods, my tongue suddenly feeling numb as the sun rose higher in the sky.

I could see the sun peeking through an especially open area, my feet automatically walking towards it until I could feel the sun’s rays caressing my sweaty flesh. I stopped, for the first time since I’d ventured into the woods. I tilted my head back, closing my eyes as I took in deep breaths. My head felt empty, nothing to predict in the depths of a sleeping woods. I reveled in the feeling, my body feeling insubstantial as the only sound that filled my ear was the wind dancing with the leaves. I could stay like this…

I saw an arrow coming my way, in my haste, I quickly opened my eyes, raising my hand up just in time to catch the arrow pointed between my eyes. I lowered the arrow, quickly scanning the woods ahead of me for someone, my mind trying to see them before they could come for me. I saw more than one body shuffling between the trees, moving from place to place like people all too familiar with the landscape. I held the arrow out, ready to use it on the first person to lunge at me. There was a snap, a branch breaking right behind me.

“Turn around slowly,” a voice commanded from behind me, my heart stirring uncontrollably as I followed their instructions.

My heart froze when my eyes fell on that familiar face, but his eyes were cold as he pointed a new arrow at me, his hand pulling back on the string as he prepared to remove the threat. My eyes shifted as I listened to the people still lurking in the shadows. When I looked back at him, the hold on his bow was much more slack, his eyes glinting with warmth.

“It’s you,” he whispered, his hands suddenly falling in front of him, “What are you doing here?”

He made my mind hazy, I couldn’t think clearly whenever he was around. I wanted to speak to him; I was curious about him, but as the words were about to form on my tongue, a sharp pain radiated from the back of my head. I reached back, wincing at the pain. When I brought my hand back to my face, red stained my fingers, my eyes suddenly growing darker with each second. My legs gave way in that moment, the last thing I saw was his feet as he stood before my helpless body. For the first time, I felt so human.

 “She could be a spy,” a feminine voice hissed out in a hushed tone.

My eyes felt heavy as I struggled to fight the drowsiness pulling at my eyelids. I squirmed, rolling myself onto my back as consciousness came back to me. My wrists burned, the realization that I was tied up hitting me for the first time.

“She’s up! She’s up!”

I rocked my body from side to side, my head slightly throbbing as I recalled the previous events. I groaned, my attention suddenly snapping over to look at the woman who stormed through the wooden door. Her features were rough, and I could see her whole life splayed before my eyes as she stepped forward. She hovered over me as I laid beneath her, her dark eyes filled with a concoction of curiosity and suspicion. A long moment of silence passed before she pulled up a stool, taking a seat just as a young boy cracked open the same door she’d entered. Soft voices echoed in my head, all curious to find out more about the stranger from the woods.

“You’re here to spy on us, aren’t you?”

My eyes returned to hers, her hands planted on her knees as she leaned forward. I scanned her matted black hair, pulled into a tight ponytail, her wide frame casting a shadow over me.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

I could already see her response; she wasn’t going to accept my answer. She hadn’t become who she was without an overt amount of paranoia. I turned my gaze towards the ceiling, settling on my back, no longer fighting against my restraints.

“You’re a liar! I know they sent you here to find out where we’re hiding, but you won’t live to tell them,” she hissed.

“Kill me if you’re going to kill me,” I whispered, slowly curling back into a ball, turning my back to her.

She sat there bewildered, taken aback by my comment. I waited for her to leave, to let me rest in peace until she decided to kill me. The sound of her dragging the stool away clawed at my eardrums before she slammed the door shut, her anger boiling to the surface in a matter of seconds. Her voice boomed as she told my guards that no one was permitted to see me under any circumstances. I shut my eyes, sleep refusing to come to me because all I saw were their stories, the knowledge forbidding me to get a moments rest. I sighed, recounting the endless knowledge to myself to pass the time.

 “Why are you still here?”

My eyes shot open as a voice emanated from a dark corner of the room. I didn’t bother turning to them as I replied, staring blankly at the rotting wall ahead of me.

“I don’t know,” I muttered.

“You know everything,” I listened for his footsteps as he brought himself closer; I could see him crouching beside me, his golden-brown locks falling just beneath his brows, and he sighed, “He’s looking for you.”

I twisted by body, staring into those familiar blue eyes. He smiled, a boxy, warming smile, his tan skin radiating with life at the newfound attention.

“Go back, Tae,” I whispered, “Tell him I’ll return.”

“It’s been weeks,” he frowned, his skin still glowing despite it, “You can’t keep running from him forever.”

But I could. I had an eternity to run from the reality of my existence.

“Go back, Tae.”

I turned away from him, my eyes falling back on the wall, counting the seconds it took for him to accept my words. He sighed, his breath fanning over my arm.

“What do I tell them?”

I paused, deciding the right words for the best possible outcome, “The summer festival,” I whispered, “That’s when I’ll return.”

He chuckled lowly, his presence quickly dissipating from the atmosphere as he soared back up to the heavens. I shut my eyes, my heart clenching with the thought. I had three months; three months to accept my fate. I sighed, once more scouring meaningless facts to pass the time.

 A creaking snapped me out of my thoughts, a faint light splaying across the wall for a moment before it was shut out. I tried to see who was coming, and for what purpose, but I once again couldn’t see. My heart began pounding viciously, recognizing the tall tale signs already. He shuffled in the darkness, moving around as if he could still see what he was doing, until his body came to crouch beside mine. I could already feel his body heat caressing my skin, stirring something in my stomach. I held my breath, fighting off the throbbing feeling. He reached forward, his fingers grazing my hand as he tugged on the ropes, releasing the tight hold my restraints had on me before pulling away.

“I brought you something to eat,” he whispered, “It’s not much, but it’ll hold you over.”

“I don’t need food.”

He chuckled, getting to his feet. I listened to his shuffling once more until the moonlight began to illuminate the room. I turned, watching as he came back to crouch beside me, an apple and blade in the palm of his hands. His eyes sparkled in the moonlight as he soundlessly began to cut a piece from the apple, extending it out towards me when he was done. I looked at the apple slice, then at his face, a small smile gracing his features as he nudged his hand forward.

“Eat,” he insisted.

“You stole them,” I whispered, glancing down at the whole apple.

“There are plenty more.”

“You’re a thief.”

He chuckled, finally removing his outstretched hand, and eating the slice of apple himself. He smiled cockily after swallowing it.

“You think I’m a bad person because I stole them?”

He tilted his head to the side, his smiled never ceasing, his eyes oozing with amusement.

“Stealing from others, is stealing from the Gods.”

He cut another piece of apple, once more offering it to me. His expression now much more thoughtful as he watched me carefully.

“The Gods aren’t real,” he spoke bluntly, his tone much more serious, “They let the rich get richer while the poor get poorer.”

“The Gods don’t carry favoritism.”

He scoffed, “Tell me…these Gods you believe in, if they created us, gave us meaning, then why do they let the unfortunate ones suffer? They only care about offerings, and what are the poor able to offer when the rich take the clothes off their backs to fill their bellies with the fruit of The Gods.”

His words cut deep, but rung true. I looked away, finally removing the ropes from my wrists. I rubbed the aching flesh gingerly for a second before looking back at him. He was watching me carefully, his face searching mine for an answer to a question he’d probably been asking himself since we’d first crossed paths. He held out the apple slice, once more probing me to eat when I didn’t want, or need to. I glanced down at the knife in his hand, my mind telling me to end whatever game he was playing. He laughed, his hand bringing the apple slice to his mouth just before extending the knife towards me.

“Slitting my throat would make it easier.”

I stared into his eyes, they were inviting me to try to kill him, but they also flickered with amusement as if he already knew I wouldn’t hurt him.

“You don’t think I’ll do it.”

“I know you won’t do it.”

I took in a silent breath, the growing smile on his face taunting me. He hummed, setting the apple down, and stabbing it with his knife. When his gaze fell back on mine, he was serious again, his eyes dark and filled with secrets I couldn’t unlock.

“I’m not going to kill you, and no one else here will either. You can stay here if you’d like, but you have to earn your place here.”

“And if I don’t want to stay?”

He smirked, licking his lips thoughtlessly, “Then we’ll take you back where you belong.”

I stayed silent, the air between us mixing intoxicatingly, suffocating me. I looked down at his lips, glistening in the light from his saliva, and a knot built in my stomach, tempting me even more. He seemed to notice as his smile grew wider just before he extended his hand out, his coy smile brighter than the moon itself.

“Jimin,” he said softly, his voice smooth against the humid air.

I took his hand, gingerly at first, but soon we were both holding onto each other, refusing to let go.

“Hana.”

He looked down at our hands, seemingly smiling at his own thoughts.

He mumbled to himself so low, I knew he’d only intended for himself to hear it. The words leaving his mouth effortlessly, and making that single, most familiar word sound like the sweetest thing in the world.

“Hana,” his eyes locked on mine, something wild burning in them.

 Children screamed, and laughter filled the air. I couldn’t help but laugh with them as I raced through the tall grass after them. They were all calling after me, encouraging me to keep going for just a little bit longer until I finally made it to the edge of the field. I stopped, admiring the spectacle off in the distance. A small town illuminated the night sky with a cluster of gold light as faint thrums of music drifted to my ears. For a moment, my heart felt at peace, and I could feel the energy radiating from the town, a warmth tingling through my body. My heart was pounding, the smile on my face dissipating into nothing as I tried to push the feeling away. I’d spend 3 months out in the woods, hiding from myself, but today was the day all of that went away. Today was the summer festival.

I took a small step backwards, ready to turn back, and erase the promise I’d made, but I was stopped as I stepped into someone’s chest. Their hands pressed against my hips, holding me in place, their warm breath slowly finding its way against the skin of my neck, gradually moving to my ear. Their lips tenderly pressed against my lobe. I tried to pull away, but their hands gripped my hips even tighter. The only thing that froze me in place was the sound of his velvety voice whispering in my ear.

“Don’t leave.”

My heart fluttered as his hands fell from my side, the warmth on my back quickly dissolving as he slowly walked past me. My eyes followed his movements as he came to stand before me, his back facing me as he stared off at the town. The children were screaming, calling out for us to hurry up, now in the middle of the field, heading straight for the bridge that would guide us into the town. Jimin chuckled, his body turning to face me.

He was wearing a mask on his face, a white wolf, and he watched me for a second before lifting the mask off his face. He grinned as he extended his hand out, silently asking me to do more than take his hand—he wanted me to trust him. I hesitated, the feelings he awoke in me with a simple look fighting to be released. I imagined myself taking his hand, and running away with him, but I couldn’t do that. I couldn’t accept these feelings. I scoffed, hiding the pain it caused me to push him away, and I took off, leaving him empty.

 The music vibrated through my body, the pure ecstasy of the laughter and sinful happiness sending an excited rush through my body. The celebration was giving life to every fiber of my being. I was high off the praise. The summer festival was the one night for the Gods; a celebration for all that was, and could be for the future of our people. The townspeople danced, screamed, laughed, filled the atmosphere with an abundance of joy, and they offered a sacrifice the God’s couldn’t possibly resist—their mindless support. It didn’t matter if you questioned the God’s during the summer festival because it was an excuse to let go of their humanly burdens.

I pushed past bodies, sweating, oozing with desires. Everyone had disappeared into the crowd as soon as we crossed the bridge. You couldn’t tell the difference between the ones who were supposed to be there and the ones who weren’t. I was all alone, but I could feel them all clinging to my skin, calling for my embrace. It was all suffocating. I could see what was to come flashing before my eyes, the men who’d be pulled into dark alleys by seductive women, the children who’d sneak alcohol away from drunken elders, the people who’d dance their problems away, and someone else, someone who often lurked in dark corners waiting for the perfect moment to induce chaos.

I abruptly turned my head, feeling his watchful eyes on my back, but no one was there. I could feel his eyes on my back again, turning, I was met with more carefree people, but the eyes that I felt were nowhere to be found. I felt them all over my skin now, demanding my attention. I spun, trying to find him in the crowd, flashes of his presence in my mind, but every time I tried to find him, he was somewhere else. He was toying with my mind. My mind was too fuzzy, too drunk off the energy rippling off everyone’s body to think clearly.

I took in a deep breath, trying to calm myself. The images growing immensely in my mind. That was, until a hand wrapped around mine, pulling me into a state of peace. I couldn’t see anything, or hear anything as I looked down at the hand wrapped tenderly around mine. They squeezed, drawing my attention up to the familiar milky brown eyes that always seemed to be watching me.

He looked into my eyes, his brows furrowed in concern as he searched my features. He was saying something. Although I could see his lips moving, no sound was coming from them. I tried to pull away, but his hand only gripped onto mine tighter as he stepped closer. His free hand reached up, caressing my cheek gently, and he leaned forward. His lips grazed mine, the faint contact sending shivers through me, and a fire grew in the pit of my stomach as he looked into my eyes.

“Hana,” he whispered against my lips, stealing my breath away.

The sounds of cheerful people, and loud music rushed into my ears, the quiet finally dissolving. I gasped, every part of my body fluttering warmly.

“Jimin,” I whispered back.

He stroked my cheek with his thumb, “Come back.”

My eyes flickered, searching for the meaning behind his words. His eyes were like staring into a warm fire, begging me to rest for a while. I nodded, and he leaned back. His hand squeezed mine once more before a small smile formed, and just when I thought he might let go, he turned, pulling me further into the town, and the euphoria.

 I’d somehow joined in with the laughter and the dancing, swaying to the music without a care in the world. Somewhere along the line, I’d stopped seeing everything, and I was enjoying every moment of it. I laughed, moving off to the side to allow someone else to dance. A large group of people had formed a circle, and happily cheered for anyone who dared to enter the circle to show off their dancing capabilities. A woman passed me a drink, laughing outwardly as she stepped aside to allow me some room. I felt weightless as I turned to find Jimin, his mask covering his face once more, dancing with the music. His movements were graceful, filled with a passion like no other. Everyone was in awe, their cheers getting louder, and he laughed, stopping his movements as a bunch of children ran up to him, encircling him like he was their world.

Everyone laughed as the children tried to tackle him, which only made him laugh even harder. He picked up one of the children, spinning them in the air while the other children jumped away, giggling erratically in the process. I felt a laugh escape my lips, and that’s when his eyes met mine. He paused, the child in his arms still giggling like he hadn’t stopped. My laughter faded into a wide smile, a seemingly long pause passing between us. His eyes seemed to smile, sparkling against the lights, and just like the first time our eyes met, time seemed to stop. Something burned in my stomach, ignited by something unspoken between us. We could have stood there forever if only the children hadn’t started tackling him for stopping their fun. He fell to the ground, the children piling on him playfully, another fit of laughter escaping his lips.

“That one’s a keeper,” I turned my gaze towards the woman who had given me a drink. She was older, wrinkles ornamenting her skin as she smiled at him, “You can see it in his eyes, can’t you?”

“See what?”

My smile faded just as she turned to me, a flash of surprise on her face before it turned warm, a motherly understanding staring me in the face, “I can see it in your eyes too.”

I watched her as she turned back to the circle, her hands starting to clap with the rhythm as she laughed heartily. I turned back towards Jimin, my heart erupting as her words echoed in my mind. I knew exactly what she saw, but even if I was too afraid to admit it, I couldn’t deny the smile that crept onto my lips.

I wanted this moment to last forever, but I wasn’t able to enjoy it for long. I could feel that familiar gaze piercing my skin. I saw him watching me. I hurriedly brought my eyes to his, standing in the crowd on the other side of the circle. He flashed me a knowing smile. My heart sunk as I stepped back, my body crashing into the person behind me. My eyes flickered from him to Jimin and back again, but his gaze never faltered, leaving me with an unsettling feeling.

I looked down at Jimin again, my mind racing with thoughts. I wanted to say goodbye, but I didn’t want to make it any more painful than it already was. I took another step back, Jimin’s eyes suddenly meeting mine. He was still laughing with a bunch of children crawling over him, but it slowly faded as his eyes darkened with concern the longer he stared at me. I shook my head, tears threatening to come, and I quickly fought my way through the crowd. I wanted to keep the promise I’d made…I had to keep it…but my heart belonged elsewhere now.

 I crashed through the tall blades of grass, stumbling forward, right to the edge of the river I’d been standing at all those months ago. My breath was ragged, the panic overwhelming my senses. I was still fighting back my tears as I tilted my head back towards the night sky, the cool air burning my lungs as I stared up at the full moon. I closed my eyes, a single tear from each eye rolling down my face. I’d never felt pain like this before; it was utterly foreign. For the first time, I understood what human’s felt.

“You’re leaving,” that familiar voice said, suddenly cutting through the silence.

I turned, my heart practically jumping out of my chest as I registered his presence. I hadn’t heard him coming, and like usual, I hadn’t seen it either. I looked away, hurriedly wiping my tears away.

“It’s none of your business what I do.”

He stepped forward, closing the distance between us by the slightest as he pulled his mask off his face.

“Everyone who comes to us is running from something,” he whispered, looking down at the mask in his hands, “But they all find peace with us…but you—you’re different.”

“You should go back.”

“No!” he snapped, his eyes immediately finding mine, “I know you’re hiding from something. You’re not like us. You had something before this…you were somebody,” he paused, a hint of understanding flashing in his eyes, “You are somebody.”

I looked away, my hands clenching into fists at his words. The only reason I looked up was because he moved closer, further decreasing the distance between us. I wanted him to know the truth, but no mortal could handle such a truth.

“You’re right,” I whispered, “But you wouldn’t believe me if I told you.”

He chuckled, his hand covering his smile for a brief moment.

“You mean I won’t believe that you’re not human?”

I half stepped back, his blunt words sending my mind into overdrive. I couldn’t tell if he was messing with me, or if he truly did see the truth. I opened my mouth, but I couldn’t manage to find the right words. He stepped forward, leaving the smallest amount of space between us. We stood there silently, searching each other’s faces for answers. I couldn’t read him as he looked at me, his face expressionless.

“How—h” I began, but in the middle of it all my mind seemed to go off on its own, “You make me feel so human,” I muttered softly.

I heard the faint sound of his mask falling to the ground before his hands came up to caress my face. His hands stroked my cheeks as a small smile pulled at the corners of his lips.

“Don’t leave.”

I grabbed at his hands, my heart sinking at his statement.

“I have to.”

“Why?”

“Because—because,” I stumbled, the words getting caught in my throat for a second, “I’m promised to someone else…I’m promised to...”

He cut me off as he brought his forehead to rest against mine. His eyes pulled me in, the desire engulfing us like a warm blanket.

“Stay with me,” he closed his eyes, his hot breath fanning against my lips.

“Jimin,” I huffed, closing my eyes as the desire took hold of me, a tight knot forming in my stomach, “I can’t.”

He didn’t accept my answer as his lips crashed against mine for the first time. I wanted to fight him, my hands gripping onto his as he pulled my face closer, not letting me go. I wanted to tell him to stop, to not make this even harder than it had to be. From the moment I saw him, he stirred something inside of me, and the longer I was around him the more it grew—the stronger it became. The way he kissed me, I could feel he felt it too, even more so as his tongue licked at my lips. I opened my mouth, unprepared for the sweet taste he carried. His lips were sweet, but his tongue was sweeter as it danced with mine, caressing my own tongue.

He took my breath away. So much so, I felt dizzy, and I wrapped my arms around his neck for stability. My hands tangled in his hair, pulling him closer to me, as his hands slid down my body, feeling every curve as he moved, until his hands fell on my waist. He slowly wrapped his arms around me, pulling me in close. He pulled me in close as if I couldn’t get closer, and his body was so warm, a huge contrast to the cool breeze. He moaned into my mouth, the feeling making my body tingle in the best of ways, and the knot grew tighter. I replied with a moan, instantly making his fingers grip onto the fabric of my clothes. I gripped his hair even tighter, tugging at the strands as the yearning grew even more.

He pulled away, gasping into my mouth, “Stay with me,” he moaned.

He opened his eyes as the words left his mouth, locking with mine. They were dark, his pupils blown out, and pooled with a range of emotions. I swallowed, unable to find the words to respond. He simply pulled away, the loss of his touch leaving me empty, but he quickly grabbed my hand, pulling me away with him to the woods. I couldn’t think with his fingers interlaced with mine, directing me through the dark forests back to the camp. I felt free.

 His hot breath hit the back of my neck, and his skin, slick with sweat, pressed against my body as he thrust inside of me. I couldn’t think straight, my entire being yearned for more of his touch. He leaned in, his lips pressing gingerly against my ear as he moaned for me. I moaned, clenching around his member at the sensation. He gasped, his hand suddenly reaching for mine, interlocking our fingers as he thrust harder.

I reached behind me, helping his thrusts along as they grew sloppier, his mind losing control from the pleasure; the feeling bringing his teeth to the flesh of my shoulder; he panted against my skin, pushing himself to keep going, waiting for me to let go before he could. I was almost there; my body was aching to release. I leaned my head back, his lips quickly finding mine, kissing me hungrily, and sloppily as he continued to rock inside of me.

When the pleasure was too much, I pulled away, my eyes locking with his for a brief moment. He bit his lip, the moonlight making the sweat on his forehead glisten, also putting the lust in his eyes on display, but again, something else was lurking in them. It felt too good for me to comprehend as I turned away, my guiding hand going to the floor, digging into the wood flooring as the pleasure raked through my body.

I let out a long draw out moan, my body shaking as the euphoria took control. He moaned as my walls clenched down even tighter on his member, immediately sending him into his own version of euphoria. His forehead came to rest on my shoulder, his lips giving my back soft kisses as he rode out his high. His fingers gripped onto mine more firmly. His lips ghosted across my skin as he lifted his head again. He kissed my earlobe, sending another burst of excitement to my core, and my walls briefly reacted, making him gasp lowly. I could feel his lips curl into a smile, drawing a smile from me.

“I love you,” he spoke against my ear.

I paused, his body lifting from mine, and separating us. I slowly turned around, my eyes meeting his. I searched his face; his hair was sticking to his forehead from all the sweat. I watched as a single bead rolled down from the back of his neck, down his chest. His toned body sparkled against the moonlight. I slowly sat up, placing my hands on his chest first, and moving up to his sweat stained hair. He was serious as he watched me, my eyes flickered to his lips, watching as they gradually turned into a knowing smile. When my eyes locked back with his, I pulled one of my hands away, stroking his cheek gingerly. After a moment, I leaned in, pressing a soft kiss on his lips.

“I don’t think I’ll ever love someone the way I love you,” I whispered against his lips.

“Say it again,” he chuckled, his arms wrapping firmly around my waist.

Our bodies melded together. I pulled away, looking into his eyes as I stroked his face from his temple to his cheek. For the first time, I could clearly see what that something else was in his eyes. It was genuine, something pure and undeniable. He did love me. I smiled, my heart fluttering uncontrollably as I came to the realization. It would always only be him.

“I love you, Jimin.”

He chuckled, his eyes creasing into crescents, his smile wider than I’d ever seen it, and then he was kissing me, pushing our bodies back to the floor. I was his, and he was mine.

 “You can’t stay here.”

My eyes opened, the feeling of Jimin’s hand wrapped loosely around my waist the first thing I registered before I realized whose voice was speaking to me. My eyes flickered to the corner of the room beside the door as the familiar figure stepped out from the darkness. My jaw clenched as I turned to look back at Jimin sleeping, his face the picture of peaceful. If I hadn’t known better, I would have sworn he’d come from the heavens. I looked back at the figure now leaning his back idly against the wall, a crisp red apple toggling between his hands.

“I can do whatever I want.”

“No,” he stated matter-of-factly, turning his gaze towards mine as he stopped tossing the apple, “You can’t.”

I paused, watching him carefully as I slowly moved Jimin’s hand away to sit upright, he rustled in his sleep, but he didn’t wake.

“I love him.”

He lowly chuckled, tossing the apple with one hand and catching it in the other.

“I love you.”

His tone was dry, but there was a lot of power behind it as he stood upright, turning his whole body towards me. I got up, my hands shaking slightly. I could only ball them into fists to hide the emotions growing inside of me. I didn’t want this. I didn’t want any of this.

“Please, don’t do this…please…Kookie…please.”

He grinned, gripping the apple in one of his hands at my pleading.

“You promised,” he lifted the hand holding the apple, gripping onto it tighter every second we sat silently, and slowly the apple began to shrivel and rot.

“Don’t,” I hissed.

He stepped forward, and in the blink of an eye, he stood before me. He brought the back of his hand up, caressing my cheek softly.

“I saw you out there by the river. Did you think I wouldn’t find you?” he smiled crookedly, “Don’t tell me you didn’t see this coming Hana.”

He chuckled, fully aware that I was weaker around Jimin.

“Don’t hurt him.”

His eyes were filled with screaming souls, and a darkness deeper than any black. He turned his gaze away as he lifted the hand still holding the rotting apple, I watched carefully as it began to crumble, turning into dust before my very eyes. He tilted his hand, the dust falling to the floor as he locked eyes with me once more. A sinister grin took hold of his features just before he placed a contrastingly sweet kiss on my lips.

“Come back with me, and I won’t have to,” he said dryly, pulling away to stare me in the eyes.

He wanted me to see he was serious, his emotionless expression the final indicator if his words didn’t quite sink in. I nodded, my eyes turning back to Jimin still lost in slumber. I could feel my heart screaming, begging me to stay, but I turned away, pushing the thoughts out of my mind. He held out his hand, the very hand that held the apple, and I took it, slowly following him into the darkness. The satisfied smile never left his face.

 “He’s a human!”

“You know this will only end badly for you!”

“You’re Jungkook’s!”

“It’s unwise to be swayed by them.”

The disapproval of the God’s rung painfully in my ears. It’d been months since I’d vanished without a trace…months since I’d seen Jimin. All I wanted was to hold him again, to love him like a normal human, live the rest of my days with him. I’d come to them to ask to be free from my immortal restraints. They stared at me, each flustered by my words. Jungkook glared at me, his eyes filled with rage before anything else, and he stormed out, leaving a bitterness clinging to the air. They spoke in hushed tones amongst each other, their heads shaking in disapproval every now and again. They wouldn’t let me go.

I spent weeks watching the humans below, continuing their normal routines, ignoring the God’s. My heart broke with every passing day, unable to see the man I truly loved.

 I stared through the clouds, watching the river I’d first met him at, completely dried out, and replaced with a white blanket of snow. I sighed, quickly closing the clouds, and turning away, fully aware of the eyes watching me thoughtfully. I was met with his darkly familiar presence. His dark brown hair cascading his eyes slightly as he crossed his arms over his chest, and leaned against a white pillar.

“I won’t stop you.”

I looked him up and down, his brow raised amusedly as he watched me. He smiled, the same darkness behind it, but it somehow was fainter, curiously innocent.

“You’ll let me go to him?”

“Yes.”

He pushed off the wall, stepping forward until he was standing a foot away from me.

“You promise you won’t hurt him?”

He grinned, a twinkle in his eyes, “I promise.”

I felt the tears brimming my eyes, and I didn’t want to think about it, or second guess it as I ran off. My heart overflowed with joy. I was ready to see him again.

 I pushed through the blades of grass, still completely yellow, but they stood tall even though patches were weighed down by the snow. I continued through, my legs not moving fast enough in the large amounts of snow. I could only think his name as I crashed through the edge of the field, my body instantly freezing as that familiar figure stood on the other side of the river against the backdrop of the forest. He froze, his breathing growing heavier as large puffs of white clouds left his mouth.

He stepped forward, his legs seeming unsteady as his brain tried to make sense of what he saw. I mimicked his actions, tears beginning to stream down my face the longer I stared at him. I could see his lips moving as he continued to take small steps forward. I only thought one thing as I began moving forward more rapidly until I was in a full sprint—Jimin. He started running towards me too, his body fighting against the snow just as mine was. The cold air burned my lungs, but I screamed his name, calling to him. I wanted him to know I was here, even if he could see it. He’d been saying my name like a mantra the whole time, and the closer we got, the louder he shouted.

It felt like the sun had wrapped around my heart as his body crashed into mine. His arms held onto me tightly as if I would disappear if he didn’t. I wrapped my arms around his neck, pulling him close to me, my tears falling faster. We stayed like that for barely a second before he was pulling away, cupping my face in his hands, and pulling me into a kiss. I could feel the tears on his face, taste them on my lips.

We didn’t take our time, our mouths opening for one another, to taste the flesh we’d longed for. He gasped into my mouth, pulling me in closer as my fingers dug into his back. He was just as sweet, if not sweeter. I didn’t want to let go, not even for a second. When we finally pulled away, he rested his forehead on mine, his eyes still closed as he leaned into me. His breath warmed my face. I watched him take in deep breaths, taking everything in as we sat in silence, our breathing progressively returning to normal.

“I thought I’d never see you again,” he whispered.

I watched as his tears pushed past his closed eyelids, demanding to be set free. His face was red and splotchy. I let out a choked laugh, my own tears flowing freely.

“Me too.”

His eyes flickered open, pulling me into a loving embrace of their own. He smiled, gingerly wiping the tears from my face.

“You’re here now,” he leaned in, placing a soft kiss on my lips before pulling away again to look me in the eyes, “We’re both here.”

He spun me in his arms, bringing laughter to both of us. When he stopped, I wiped the tears beginning to dry on his face, kissing each cheek softly. He chuckled, quickly pulling me into another embrace.

“Stay with me,” he whispered softly.

I nodded against his shoulder, smiling warmly to myself. I could hear our heartbeats waltzing in sync, quietly whispering love to each other.

“Let’s stay like this forever,” I said, snuggling closer to him.

He laughed, his body vibrating both of ours. My body tingled in glorious ways. Everything about him set my body on fire. I’d live lifetimes only for him if I had to.

We stood there, silently, and lovingly, holding each other until I felt the cold prick of those dark eyes on me. I lifted my head from Jimin’s shoulder, staring off into the yellow field. My heart seemed to stop as I watched him walk through the grass, his eyes never leaving mine as a devilish smile formed on his lips, fully aware that I saw him. He raised one hand to his lips, a sickening silence gripping the air as he did so. I blinked, and he disappeared, a dog taking his place. He barked once, and a chain reaction of vicious howls shortly ensued, ripping through the air like a well sharpened blade. Jimin quickly pulled away, his head turning to stare into the field with me, searching for any sign of danger.

“Jimin!”

Our heads shot around, falling on the woman who’d once found me incredibly suspicious. Her head was covered in blood, and my eyes fell to her abdomen where she held a gash, the blood projecting overpoweringly through her fingers. She stumbled forward, falling to her knees in the snow. Jimin ran to her, catching her in his arms as she fell forward. He leaned her back, and she coughed, the blood staining her lips.

“What happened?”

He panicked, his hand falling to her wound. She winced with the newfound pressure.

“They found us,” she coughed, “Those bastards found us,” she paused, tears streaming down her face as she recounted the earlier events, “They killed everyone Jimin…even the children.”

He looked up at me, his eyes filled with rage and sorrow. She reached over, taking hold of his hand on her wound, calling his attention back to her.

“Run.”

His eyes grew wide as she wheezed out a few ragged breaths.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered over and over.

She faintly smiled, nodding her head to the best of her ability, and as she took her last breath of air, a tear rolled down the side of her face. Jimin looked at her lifeless body, the shock paralyzing him. I walked over to him, placing a hand on his shoulder, and kneeling beside him. He turned to me, his eyes filled with an abundance of grief. He nodded after a moment, and he set her body down, getting to his feet as the sound of dogs barking grew nearer.

He took my hand into his, pulling me away towards the field. I heard a high-pitched whistle emanating from behind us; we both turned our heads, not taking chances by stopping. My eyes locked with the hunter I’d come across the day I met Jimin, a sick smile on his face as his dogs burst through the woods. I hurriedly turned away, as did Jimin, our feet carrying us through the tall grass. I saw the dog in my head, barring his teeth, ready to attack, but it was hazy.

The whistle sounded again, and everything went quiet—almost too quiet. I didn’t want to look. I hoped they’d given up. We could run away together, and go somewhere no one would find us. I looked at Jimin, still pulling me along, the field now turning into an open plain. I felt my heart lifting, the hope that we’d be safe comforting me. I smiled, Jimin suddenly turning to look at me. He smiled back, a reassuring look in his eyes, but like a dream turning into a nightmare, his face creased, his eyes looking behind me in horror. I was going to turn, to find out what had turned his bright features so dark, and that’s when I saw it in the back of my mind, in a fuzzy flash. He stopped in his tracks, pushing me out the way. A faint whistle, not like the one from before, cut through the air. I fell on all fours, but I quickly locked my eyes back on Jimin’s. He stumbled back, my mind going utterly blank.

“Hana,” he whispered.

He paused, taking his time to look down at the arrow sticking out of his chest. He smiled at me as his legs caved beneath him. I screamed, quickly crawling over to him, and lifting him up to hold him in my arms.

“Jimin, hold on,” tears poured out of my eyes as I gently pressed my hand beneath his wound. He cringed in pain, closing his eyes briefly, “I’m so sorry.”

I looked over at the hunter on the edge of the plain. I could feel his sense of accomplishment despite the distance between us. He saluted me, waving his hand goodbye as he signaled his men to move out. I shook my head, turning back to find Jimin gazing at me, a small smile on his lips.

“You’re so beautiful.”

I laughed, ultimately choking on a painful sob. In response, he raised his hand, caressing my cheek with the palm of his hand. I leaned into his touch, taking hold of his hand, and interlocking our fingers. His hand was still covered in her blood, and it only made more tears fall.

“Don’t leave.”

He chuckled, wincing in pain after a second.

“I love you,” he muttered, “It’ll only ever be you…only you.”

I leaned down, kissing his lips softly.

“I’ll always love you,” I spoke softly against his lips.

“Stay with me. Stay with me, love me, be with me…forever.”

I nodded, kissing him over and over until his lips curled into a grin. I pulled away to look into his eyes, still filled with an immense amount of love. He stroked my cheek one last time; his smile grew wider as he looked at me one more time, and then his eyes glazed over as they slowly grew heavier with every passing second. The light in his face dimmed as his face fell.  I shook as my hand gripped the arrow in his chest, quickly pulling it out, and hugging him close as the blood spilled out of the wound. My heart felt shattered, and I silently begged him to come back to me.

 I don’t know how long I sat there, but the sun was setting in the distance, and there was a small pool of his blood staining the snow beneath him. I finally set his head down on the ground as that unmistakable presence loomed over me, casting a dark shadow over me. I took in a deep breath before tilting my head upward to look at him. His face was serious, not his usual amused self.

“You promised,” I cried out.

He paused, looking down at Jimin’s lifeless body for a moment before meeting my eyes again.

“So did you.”

I gasped, my mind just registering the renewed tears rolling down my face.

“I’ll never love you.”

“Then I’ll take him from you until you can’t bear it anymore,” he hissed.

“W—what?” I stammered.

“I want you to feel what I feel,” he whispered, kneeling before me, “I’ll bring him back for you, but I’ll also take him from you. Each death more painful than the last. I’ll teach you what it feels like to be forgotten, and just when you think you’ll get to be with him again, I’ll allow him to know the truth,” he grinned, staring down at Jimin’s body once more, “And then I’ll take him from you.”

I glared at him as his eyes met mine again, raising my hand to strike, but before I could, he grabbed my wrist, his hold sending a cold, dead chill down my arm; and all the souls he possessed seemed to course through my body, screaming to be set free.

“You’ll never know what it’s like to love someone.”

“I love you,” he chuckled, “You’ll never be able to escape me.”

He let go of my hand, and hovered his hand over Jimin’s heart, a blue flame rising into his palm. He turned his hand over, the flame reflecting in his dark eyes.

“I’ll find him again.”

He closed his hand, the flame sinking into the palm of his hand; his eyes looked me over as I looked down at Jimin’s body. I watched as 3 pairs of skeleton arms, sheathed in a black cloud, rose from beneath him, taking hold of Jimin’s body, and pulling him into the underworld. A black stain temporarily forming, breathing, matching the rhythm of my heart even as it slowly faded to nothing. I hurriedly rose to my feet, the scene making me feel nauseous. Jungkook rose to his feet, licking his lips as a conniving smile pulled at one corner of his mouth. That’s when he stepped closer, leaning in to give me a soft kiss, sealing the fate he’d chosen for me. I turned away, barely giving him a chance to enjoy it, and he laughed, forcing himself upright. He paused, looking me over.

“Can you live forever knowing he’ll always slip through your fingertips?”

I turned back to him as he began stepping backwards. His face looked, for the first time ever, in pain. He turned away, realizing his mistake, and he stood there for a moment collecting himself. Finally, he turned his head slightly over his shoulder, a serious expression on his face.

“My heart will always belong to you.”

I clenched my jaw, closing my eyes briefly. I was met with an empty field when my eyes opened again. I stared at the place Jimin had once laid, my heart tugging painfully. I’ll find you Jimin, I thought to myself, my heart only belongs to you. I walked off, my mind counting the years before I’d see him again. 

He stopped in the woods somewhere, a rest stop for people traveling for long periods of time. I could feel his gaze on me as we continued to sit silently.

“I thought I lost you that night on the bus,” he said, “It’s been almost two weeks…I didn’t think I’d ever see you again until I saw you in that café,” he paused, waiting for a response he wouldn’t get, “No one has ever made me feel this way, and I know you feel it too.”

I scoffed, “You don’t know what you’re talking about Jimin.”

He paused, turning his body towards me, “I want to hear you scream my name.”

I turned to him, his comment far blunter than I’d expected. Just when I’d finally decided to look at him, he lunged forward, pressing his lips against mine. He was smooth as he pushed the lever to lay the seat flat, climbing over the console to press his body up against mine. I pulled my lips away, his lips quickly finding my neck, his teeth grazing my skin as a moan left his lips, and his hips rolling into me agonizingly slow. I swallowed hard as his hand reached down, finding their way into my leggings, and rubbing my clothed center, increasingly growing wetter with each kiss.

“Jimin, please,” I begged, even though my body was aching for his touch, “Please, pl—pl”

He rubbed hard into my clit, stopping me midsentence to bask in the tingling sensation erupting through my body. I moaned, my fingers wrapping around his wrist as his gaze met mine again.

“Tell me you don’t want this, and I’ll stop,” he huffed, his arousal taking hold of him, his eyes revealing his true feelings.

I gripped onto his wrist tighter as he pressed more roughly into my clit, drawing out a long moan. I couldn’t hold back anymore. Selfishly, I missed his touch, and I just wanted to feel his body against mine.

“I want this,” I muttered breathlessly.

That’s all it took for him as he ripped open my button up shirt, revealing my bra, my skin being kissed by the cold air. His lips ventured to the crests of my breasts, kissing them as he squeezed them gently. My hand instinctively went to the hem of his hoodie, trying to pull it over his head, but he ended up having to pull away to do it for me. He tossed it to the side revealing his white t-shirt which he hurried discarded soon after. My eyes fell on his toned body, his abs surprising me for a moment. When my eyes found his again, he was staring at me like someone looking at the person they love. I leaned forward, quickly pressing my lips to his, pushing the thought out of my mind as I pushed my shirt off.

His hands unclasped my bra shortly after, tossing it to the side. He stopped kissing me to admire my body, his eyes sparkling in satisfaction. Whenever he stared at me like that, it always felt like the first time again. I turned away, staring out at the trees rustling in the wind to calm my nerves, but Jimin was quick to hook his finger under my chin, directing my attention back to him. His eyes were warm as he leaned forward, pressing gentle kisses to my lips, slowly turning it into a heated embrace, his tongue dancing with mine, his lips taking my breath away. He pressed me back against the chair, his hips roughly rolling into mine as my fingers dug into his back.

He moved down, kissing his way between my chest, momentarily sucking on one nipple while fondling the other. I arched my back at the sensation, moans slipping from my lips effortlessly as he kissed further down. His lips stopping at the hem of my leggings. He looked up at me as he slowly pulled them down, taking my underwear with them as he pulled them off my legs. I was completely naked now. I couldn’t hide even if I tried. He lifted my legs over his shoulders, hunching down between my legs, I squirmed as I felt his warm breath ghosting across my folds, his tongue suddenly taking a single swipe between them. My hand shot straight to his pink strands as he continued to suck on my clit, occasionally teasingly sticking his tongue further inside of me.

“Jimin,” I gasped, rocking my hips against him tongue.

I could feel him smirk against me the more eager I got. His tongue already sending me over the edge. My legs clenched around his head, my hands gripping onto his hair, begging him to keep going. He lapped up my juices, giving my clit one last suck before pulling away, taking away the high I was so close to attaining. He didn’t give me time to protest as his lips found mine once more, my own taste filling my taste buds. He moaned, the bulge in his pants creating a euphoric friction between us.

“I want you,” he gasped, “Fuck,” he moaned against my lips, “I want you so bad.”

I reached down, slipping my hands beneath his jeans to rub his clothed member. He moaned again, this time, his lips were pressed against my neck, sending a hot rush straight to my core. He quickly sat back up, fumbling with his pants, tired of holding back. He pulled his jeans down along with his boxers, kicking them sloppily off his ankles.

We both chuckled as he came to finally press his body back against mine. Our laughter falling quiet as his face hovered mere inches over mine. He swallowed hard as he reached down, aligning himself with my entrance, his eyes never leaving mine as he pressed into me. Soft moans escaped our lips simultaneously as he slowly filled me up all the way. His forehead rested against mine, his eyes closing as he tried to stay calm enough to not move, and give my body enough time to adjust. I found my hands in his hair, quietly inviting him to open his eyes. When he did, his eyes showed someone on the brink of losing it, his body pleading to let him make me scream his name. He thrust into me gently, my mouth tempted to let out a small moan. He smirked, his hips suddenly rolling at a progressive pace. I bit my bottom lip, craving more.

He gladly gave me more; his hips increasing their speed at the same time he thrust harder into me, a loud moan leaving my lips in return. He kissed me, wanting to catch every moan, and feel it, taste it on his tongue. His hips bucked sloppily as he did so, but he quickly found his rhythm again, leaving my lips to lick the skin on my neck. His teeth grazed my shoulder, teasing me. I clenched around him, eliciting a sharp moan to leave his lips. I could feel myself reaching for a release, ready to cum around him.

He wrapped one of my legs higher up on his waist, an angle that helped him reach deeper depths inside of me, and hit that particularly intoxicating spot. I moaned as his fingers dug into my thigh, his other hand quickly pulling one of mine free from his body to interlock our fingers. He leaned in close to my ear, moaning deliciously into my ear for me to hear, sending me further over the edge. I hoped he could feel our bodies burning for each other, aching for a release a long time coming.

I could feel him throbbing inside of me, fighting the excitement already overwhelming him. He squeezed onto my hand tighter as he thrust harder, pulling away to look me in the eyes. He smiled which quickly turned into him biting his lower lip as I clenched even tighter around him.

“Fuck,” he gasped again, “Hana, I can’t hold it anymore.”

He leaned down, his hair tickling my collarbone as his thrust grew sloppier. He quickly reached down with the hand that resided on my thigh, rubbing furious circles on my clit to help me find my release faster. I moaned, clenching down on him even tighter as my vision went hazy. He tucked his head in the crook of my neck, his ragged, hot breaths, telling me exactly how close he is. We both let out one last moan as we reached our high, his name slipping off my tongue just as mine slipped off his. Our bodies shaking as we road it out together, his hips thrusting into me roughly. I brought my hand to his hair, feeling the sweat clinging to his strands. His hand still gripped onto mine as we sat there, our heavy breaths the only sound between us.

“You’re so beautiful,” he whispered against my neck, “You’ve always been so beautiful.”

He pulled away, his eyes meeting mine as he admitted the truth to me. For the first time, I saw the vacancy in his eye as if he’d left his body for a moment. I turned away, a single tear trickling from the corner of my eye as I looked for solace elsewhere. He leaned down, kissing my jaw, then my cheek, finally hooking his finger below my chin to force me to look at him so he could kiss me gently on the lips. When he pulled away, he wiped the tear from my eye, caressing my cheek lovingly. Did he know how long I’d been searching for him?

“I love you,” he whispered, “Tell me you love me too, and I’ll be the happiest man in the world.”

I chuckled, a sob threatening to break free, “I’ll always love you…only you.”

He gave me another kiss, that familiar honey taste, and his soft lips bringing a smile to my lips. We could stay like this forever.

 I opened my eyes, the sound of the ocean, and a loud noise I couldn’t quite recall echoed in my ears. I sat up, my heart stirring at the sound of being back at the ocean. I looked over at the driver’s seat, expecting Jimin to be by my side, but he was nowhere to be found, the key sitting idly on the dashboard. I hurriedly got out the car, not caring about the car being stolen as I ran towards the ocean. I looked around, my eyes catching sight of a small group of people further down the beach. I ran towards them, my heart already trying to crawl out of my chest the closer I got to the commotion. The ocean breeze blocked out their voices, but I could clearly see that familiar uniform crouching down in the sand.

I pushed through a couple of old woman, clearly a group of friends going through their daily walking routine together. My eyes locked onto those pink strands, his hair wet and covered in sand. My knees felt numb as my eyes fell on his lips, no longer so rosy, but a deep blue. His skin as white as snow, his clothes soaked completely through. I took a step back as I heard one of the paramedic’s mumble to the other that he had long been dead. I backed through the growing crowd, his body becoming less visible in all the clutter. I felt sick as a tall figure came to stand beside me, his appearance masking what he was really doing there. From my peripheral, I could see his dark blue turtleneck on top of his ripped blue jeans, and his brown boots. He looked so normal when he wanted to.

“You know he was lying to you the entire time, right?”

I turned to him, his gaze falling on mine as a small smirk tugged at his lips. Nonchalantly, he handed me a piece of paper. I quickly opened it, my mind expecting it to be blank, but clear words, written neatly for me, brought tears to my eyes. I looked up at him, his expression still playful.

“Are you happy now,” I spoke softly, “Are you happy you finally got what you wanted, Jungkook?”

His expression grew serious, “I never lied to you Hana, all I ever did was love you,” he spoke lowly, “You brought this on yourself.”

“Then tell me,” I cried, “How long did he know?”

“The moment he laid eyes on you,” he whispered, taking in my expression.

I covered my mouth, the guilt eating away at me as Jungkook looked ahead at the crowd.

“You’ll never see him again,” he muttered, “The only way is if you come back with me.”

I laughed, covering my mouth in light of the situation, but my legs quickly gave way under the circumstances, my body crashing into Jungkook’s as my mind went numb. I stood in his arms, finally giving him everything he wanted, but my mind kept hearing Jimin.

“You’re lying,” I whispered, finding the strength to push away from him.

He smiled, revealing his bunny-like teeth, and he laughed. I watched as he stepped forward, his body suddenly morphing into a regular person, mixing amongst the crowd of curious eyes. I turned away from the ocean, opening the piece of paper Jimin had left me. I smiled, walking back towards his car. His voice echoed in my mind, replaying the letter he wrote: I’ll find you again…only you.