#on the idle hill of summer

[amusingmorley]

On the Idle Hill of Summer

from A Shropshire Lad by AE Housman

On the idle hill of summer,

Sleepy with the flow of streams,

Far I hear the steady drummer

Drumming like a noise in dreams.

Far and near and low and louder

On the roads of earth go by,

Dear to friends and food for powder,

Soldiers marching, all to die.

East and west on fields forgotten

Bleach the bones of comrades slain,

Lovely lads and dead and rotten;

None that go return again.

Far the calling bugles hollo,

High the screaming fife replies,

Gay the files of scarlet follow:

Woman bore me, I will rise.

[ne-videl]

𝓶𝓲𝓭𝓼𝓾𝓶𝓶𝓮𝓻 𝓷𝓲𝓰𝓱𝓽'𝓼 𝓭𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓶

♡

yandere Rezef Hill x immortal fem reader

quirks of eternal life and the obsessed prince.

yandere, sfw, mentions of violence, kidnapping & imprisonment, angst??, you are immortal and reaaly bored, poor english, possibly wild image of high society bc real history suck

word count: ~3.5k

a/n: hii!!

exams be killing me

glad its over until the next year but I still have a shit ton of books to read at summer bc I'm in literature class (Tolstoy I hope ur spinning in your grave I don't want to read 3rd and 4th tome of war and peace but I have to)

anyway for this fic I re-read first chapters and?? Rezef is such a dick in the beginning?? and I forgot abt it??

also when I think about someone immortal this type of person just comes to mind (I mean ofc u don't give a damn about some angry man, you literally have been through everything) and don't worry about Cayena she's chilling in a nice place

indeed, lady [name], you are shining brighter than usual today. you've only recently returned to the capital, haven't you?" – at that warm evening, a pretty young girl was chirping in your ear, sitting with you on a luxurious sofa in the ballroom.

you listened with half an ear to a mixture of flattery and sincere admiration, looking into nowhere from under your eyelashes.

the ball was playing its climax, and the guests were harmoniously spinning in a german waltz. others, more noble and older, entertained themselves with idle conversations.

you too, thanks to your position, were little constrained by the limits of secular norms, and did not bother dancing. tonight you wanted anything other than to gallop around the stuffy hall. your eyes, devoid of the childish brilliance peculiar to your peers, looked indifferently at the guests.

the ball in honor of the beginning of summer was a great event, even the royal family usually participated in it; such celebrations instilled in their noble participants a sense of reverence for the higher-ranking present and idle anticipation of the upcoming entertainment.

but no matter how hard you tried, you couldn't see anything more from the height of your velvet sofa than pretentiously dressed men and women; strangely moving, stiffly dancing and talking vague figures under the sickening light of numerous chandeliers. all this in the stuffy luxury of the hall seemed to you so fake, pretentious and unnatural that you could barely restrain yourself from haughty laughter, or from a bored sigh.

[name], beautiful [name]! daughter of the richest man in the empire, a brilliant socialite, trendsetter and muse of famous poets.

you vaguely remembered what was inside some rubbish that you read about a hundred years ago, you don't know when and you don't know where.

and although in your case, "a hundred years" might not be just a phrase, you couldn't care less. whether this the fifth life or the hundredth – what's the difference? right, there's none – you thought lazily, openly staring at the crown prince exchanging pleasantries with representatives of the capital's bohemians.

like you, who on the last night of spring were dressed up like a Christmas tree, his highness shone with the white brocade of his suit today. eyes with the color of ceylon sapphire peeked out from under his golden bangs, giving everyone present the condescending look of the royalty. little prince – as you laughingly called him to yourself – was handsome to the point that young girls blushed deeply as soon as they saw him, and married ladies sighed dreamily.

at the sight of the handsome prince, some memory cracked in your skull, however, it died as quickly as it appeared. this and a thousand other memories were simply not worth your attention, and, of course, you never scolded yourself for the forgetfulness inherent in your age. you were above it all.

Rezef easily distinguished among the crowd a lady dressed in thick silk with bare shoulders. on your neck, which he did not hesitate to stare at, there was a pair of pearl necklace with a large emerald. when you met his gaze, you smiled falsely and slightly bowed your head.

middle-aged count, whose name he could not remember, looked at the woman in the corner of the hall, and scratched his gray beard with a smile.

"gorgeous, isn't she?" – an old dog next to him grinned vulgarly – "the beauty of the empire, they say."

"what a wonder." – Rezef did not take his strangely enchanted gaze off you, and the words escaped from his lips with a gasp – "it's not a pity to fall in love with such a creature." – he said maliciously, as if he concluded for himself.

the crown prince walked towards you, ignoring the knowing look of the nameless old man beside him.

he walked confidently, with a deceptively friendly smile, and would have been incredibly ridiculous to you if he hadn't been so handsome.

"good night to you, lady [name]." – Rezef smiled warmly, and held out his hand in a snow-white glove to you, – "may I keep you company?"

he kissed your palm, and without waiting for consent, sat down next to you.

you talked about various nonsense; Rezef did not take his shining eyes off you and listened, and you chatted in a dry tone about the opera, exhibitions and the weather in the capital, hardly forcing yourself to remember the topics that the ladies had already retold a hundred times.

but the guests were invited to the cotillion, and you left the little prince as easily as you accepted him into your shining company.

with the last round of the dance, everything that was happening completely mixed up in your head into a bright, stuffy mess, accompanied by the imperial orchestra and the clatter of shoes on the lacquered parquet.

and in the end, caught by the prince's arm, you were only a little confused, but you didn't show it.

"why won't you stay the night at the palace?" – Rezef said, whose broad chest rose and fell rapidly after dancing, just like your own.

you raised your eyebrows, looking at him from under your eyelashes, and fell into thought, accompanied by the prince to one of the front balconies.

normally, you wouldn't mind spending the night with such a handsome man, but today you didn't want carnal pleasures at all. and of course, you could afford to just turn down the prince like that; just because you're not in the mood, just because you don't want to.

"thank you for the offer, your highness, however, I will refrain." – you said.

for a second, when his eye twitched, you saw something unpleasantly bitter in Rezef's soft features, a mixture of disappointment with something else. but you didn't care to the depths of your callous heart; today you're not in the mood, today you're not having any fun at all.

and what was the point of that endless journey that you called life if you weren't having fun?

Rezef fell silent, maintaining his sugary smile and standing next to you, and you leaned on the marble railing, looking up at the sky.

the pale disk of the moon is floating high on the horizon. there was music coming from the ballroom, the rustle of dresses and the clatter of shoes, irritating your ears; the little prince had been gathering his thoughts for a couple of minutes to speak; and you rested your chin on your silk-gloved hand.

"tell me, lady [name]." – your bored gaze returned to the Crown Prince, – "this night, the moon and the stars, and me, doesn't that remind you of anything?"

you raised your eyebrow. even if you tried, you wouldn't be able to remember; over the years, memories inevitably dimmed and got lost.

Rezef looked at you expectantly, with almost childish anticipation. a sick gleam flashed in his eyes.

the longer your silence dragged on, the more you disliked his face, his eyes; the childish interest in his handsome features contrasted unpleasantly with the look of a madman. as if you won't say what he wants to hear now, the earth itself will crack and split in half.

"I'm afraid not, your highness. nothing at all." – you said, lightly shaking your shoulders.

the little prince didn't say anything else. his lips trembled, and he stared into the distance, clearly terribly disappointed.

the last night of spring burned out in your cold eyes, and you sighed indifferently.

♡

Rezef remembered his childhood well. in a world where everyone hated him, for some reason, there were no pretty princesses or kind older sisters. nobody. at all.

there was only a lady dressed in silk and the moon.

you came to him in dreams; whether out of boredom or out of simple human pity, he didn't know. you came because you could and wanted to; because you said you loved doing what you wanted.

it was just the two of you in this dream world. you told him all the life you could remember; and you had a long one, longer than the biggest cat's tail.

the boy lay on your lap and listened, and sometimes cried.

in this world its eat or be eaten, but you definitely won't eat him.

"they all say that I have no place in this world. that I'd better disappear." – little prince was clutching the silk of your dress tightly in his hands and squinting. – "I hate them."

"all of them?" – you answered with a relaxed, lazy smile, running your hand through the boy's golden hair.

"you and I have a lot in common. that's the way life is, child. when you grow up, you definitely start hating someone." – you were grinning. – "and you cry and feel sad a lot."

"when I become emperor, I will definitely make you the happiest in the whole world! so that you will never cry again." – the boy squeezed your hands tightly in his palms and smiled radiantly. he hesitated slightly, and looked at you from under his golden eyelashes. "but you didn't tell me your name."

"[name]." – you breathed out laughingly.

"aren't you a fairy by any chance?" – little prince tilted his head to the side, looking at you with a radiant gaze of his blue eyes.

"perhaps." – you giggled.

prince laughed loudly. a fake moon was hanging over you two, and fake stars were shining; everything in the dream world is fake – you told him.

but he liked these strange dreams. and wanted them to become real; to have a real moon, real stars, and only him and you.

♡

every time already grown-up Rezef met the woman from his dreams, he felt his heart beating faster.

human heart, such a fragile and pathetic little thing. how many of these hearts have you got your hands on?

he would gladly have torn out each one with his own hands.

the love for you, which has passed through the years, was like bitter liquor sliding down his throat. after it, the stomach turns out, but it intoxicates so much that he can't hold himself from taking another sip.

there is no light in him to give you. all he has is the suffocating darkness of his mind, cultivated by the mores of the palace, the thirst for power and cruelty. but just as no one else besides yourself mattered to you, Rezef didn't give a damn about the nature of his feelings.

poor, pathetic little prince. no one told him that this is not the way he should love someone. like a child who has not been taught to walk, and now it's crawling.

he's still holding back, but if necessary, Rezef will gladly drag you with him into the depths of hell.

but it hurts so much. every time he sees you laughing with someone else, smiling at someone else, he wants to cry.

it should be me! – his heart screams – it should be me! – his wounded soul cries while the prince stands over the corpse of one of your suitors, whom Rezef himself turned into a bloody mess. you should have held his hand. should have been smiling at him.

when someone's neck crunched under his hands again, he thought about you. would you praise him if Rezef brought you this man's head? for your smile, he would give his own heart, still fresh, in warm blood, right out of the gaping hole in his chest.

if you knew, you'd laugh.

because you are eternal, and he is just a human being. Inevitably, there will come a day when you will live, but Rezef will not. one day he will die, will end, and you will laugh coldly and continue your endless journey.

no matter what he does, no matter how hard he tries, you will always have an escape route. you can leave him.

unfair.

Rezef was even a little mad at you for that. he loved you so much; if you had only fluttered your eyelashes once and smiled – even falsely – he would have laid the whole world at your feet!

but you're breaking him. you don't care. you're only interested as long as you're having fun.

oh, how he despised that feeling, and despised you. how much he wanted to kill all the butterflies in his stomach, tear out every shiny wing; wanted to never see your mocking smile and indifferent eyes again, one fleeting glance of which easily made Rezef forget about al struggles for the throne.

he loved you as he had never loved anyone before; and hated because he didn't want to love, because he knew that you won't ever reciprocate.

♡

he and you could't be called friends, however, in the capital's high society, almost all of its representatives were friends and enemies at the same time. in any case, it was not shameful for the crown prince to visit the daughter of the richest man in the empire for dinner.

tall pine trees lined up in orderly rows along the hectares of the estate's garden, shining with luxury no worse than the imperial palace. they bowed their gloomy heads and silently greeted the carriage that evening under the hot july sun that had not yet set.

after dinner was served and eaten, you ordered one of your maids to serve tea in the garden.

"undoubtedly, what happened to the count's daughter is a disgrace to the whole family, however, I cannot help but sympathize with her." – you talked a lot again and at the same time didn't actually say anything.

the only good thing about such conversations about nothing was the opportunity to listen to your measured, eternally bored voice, and just look at you like at a painting in a museum.

the upper world was completely fake and unnatural, and you gladly accepted this fake as a living embodiment of it. and Rezef was willing to play along, because he was the prince, because it was necessary to. and so your conversation drifted from topic to topic, from one rumor to another. the warm wind made him close his sapphire eyes.

"I've seen you in my dreams, marchioness. when I was little." – the crown prince lazily tilted his head to the side, – "I know you, yet you don't remember me. isn't that unfair?" – he said with mock, with sarcastic sadness.

"is it?" – you took a sip of flower tea from a porcelain cup – "well, life is full of injustices, your highness."

a small cabbage butterfly landed right on your finger, moving its thin paws under the cold gaze of your eyes.

"lady, do you like butterflies?" – the prince smiled warmly – "there are a lot of them in your garden."

"only poisonous ones, perhaps." – you replied, and with a smile reflecting his own, squeezed the butterfly in your hand. – "they bring death, yet die themselves if I squeeze my hand just like that. how curious."

"and what about you?" – Rezef, as if enchanted, watched the transparent wings fall on the countertop – "can't you die?"

"I can't be killed in a way that matters." – you answered with a grin, as if you were repeating these words for the thousandth time.

prince pursed his lips in a forced smile. in the end, nothing has changed; he is still just a man at the walls of the eternal city. you won't listen, won't understand, and won't love.

because eternity is beautiful by itself, eternity does not need anyone else.

Rezef likes to think he's doing the right thing.

It's your fault. you could not smile at him so beautifully, not illuminate his darkness with your cold light, not make him feel this.

he didn't want to expose the ugliness of his soul, didn't want to go that far. it's all because of you. you don't even know what an insane cocktail of love and hatred you're making him feel.

and you also don't know that your tea is poisoned.

♡

"do you like your new quarters?" – Rezef almost purred, – "I was trying to guess your preferences, but if something doesn't suit you, be sure to tell me."

huh?

"you won't feel a need for anything," – little prince smiled radiantly, – "prepare to enjoy family life. just have fun and obey me, and I will make you the happiest in the whole world."

what?

Rezef was sitting, busily folding his beautiful hands, and enjoying for the first time the confused, trembling look in your eyes.

a giant bedroom, a four-poster bed, silk sheets on which you were sitting, a translucent nightgown that barely hides anything, and a scarlet ribbon around your neck.

while you were looking around uncomprehendingly, the prince sat down on the bed next to you and smiled sickly.

you saw that abomination again in the bright blue; the look of a pure madman, love which became an illness, mixed with almost animal hatred. a ribbon around your neck.

did he just put you on a leash, like you were some lap dog? that pup, who cried on your lap? you, a being older than his entire palace? you, for whom biting off someone's head is like having breakfast?

you haven't been humiliated like this in the last half-millennium.

"child." – you said slowly and quietly, and in your dry voice there was no trace of the cheeky, fake politeness peculiar to this aristocratic disguise of yours – "I'll pull your guts out through your mouth." – your lips trembled in sheer rage.

Rezef stroked your head and sighed.

"you came into my life so easily. it didn't mean anything to you, did it?" – the corner of his eye twitched, and he laughed bitterly, – "don't think I'll let you go now. never."

hit landed right on the bridge of his nose. you turned out to be much stronger than he expected, and your face was distorted with rage like he had never seen before. Rezef felt his nose bleed.

was the devil himself looking at him through your eyes now? – he thought with a strange calmness.

you hit a couple more times, and, shaking the blood off your knuckles, tore the ribbon from your neck.

how dare he? all of them are just actors in your endless play. if you're not having fun, then none of this makes sense. if you're not having fun, then what are you living for?

you were breathing fast, and were silent. it was as if for eternity you two just looked at each other; you – with fury, he – with calmness, even affably. you were sick of that expression.

but that rage of yours quickly subsided. it wasn't that you forgave him, it was just that after a couple of days you got bored with being violent.

and a year later, you stopped paying attention to the seemingly completely insane circumstances of your new life at all. you didn't mind his sole yet imaginary control over you, just because he didn't mean that much to you.

even now, nothing has changed at all.

and with the tendons cut at your ankles, looking at him with the same bored eyes, you were still disgustingly beautiful to him in the moonlight on the last night of spring.

"tomorrow I will become emperor." – instead of greeting you, Rezef said, entering the room. his face did not express joy, rather, bewilderment, as if he himself for some reason was not completely happy with it.

"yeah." – you said, without looking up from the book, – "congratulations."

now it was difficult for you to move around by yourself, so Rezef usually carried you in his arms.

he sat down on the bed and put his head on your lap and frowned.

"tell me, [name]," – he looked up at you, and when he met your impassive face, he forced a smile, – "why do I feel like I'll never see you again?"

"because you won't. I'm bored." – you shrugged and continued, – "you know, I could hate you." – you spoke calmly and dryly – "but you're not worth it. because in the end, I go on living; I always go on, and you, child, will fall into the very depths of hell."

you stroked his golden hair and smiled calmly. Rezef hid his face on your hips.

"I don't regret anything," – little prince suddenly said softly and laughed.

the last night of spring burned out in your eyes as you disappeared.

brotha euugh

one day I'll go to therapy and stop being funny but not today

I finished playing slow damage and it's the best novel in my life (that shit destroyed me)

also good ends are for weak

I mean I write for yanderes ofc there's not gonna be anything good

it's either normal or "we're fucked" here

also I'm physically intolerable to good endings and will cry if I'd ever had to write one (I love sufferings)

[niteshade925]

April 12, Xi'an, China, Qinglong Temple/青龙寺 (Part 3 - History):

A model of Qinglong Temple in Tang dynasty (618 - 907 AD):

There must have been something like thirty engravings of famous poems about the temple lining the walls of the corridors. Below are three examples of these engravings, from these poems one can get a feel for how Qinglong Temple used to look like. A note on the translations: they are rather unpolished as I just wanted to get the meaning across.

《題青龍寺詩》 [唐] 朱慶餘 寺好因崗勢，登臨值夕陽。 青山當佛閣，紅葉滿僧廊。 竹色連平地，蟲聲在上方。 最憐東面靜，為近楚城墻。

Translation (by me):

"In Commemoration of Qinglong Temple" By Zhu Qingyu (Tang dynasty) The beauty of this temple comes from the mountains, By the time I summited it was already dusk. Verdant peaks behind temple buildings, Scarlet leaves filling the corridors. Bamboo groves connecting flat areas, Chirping of insects above it all. Only the east side remains still, Since it's close to the city walls.

《清明日青龍寺上方賦得多字》 [唐] 皇甫冉 上方偏可適，季月況堪過。 遠近水聲至，東西山色多。 夕陽留徑草，新葉變庭柯。 已度清明節，春秋如客何。

Translation (by me):

"Qingming Festival Above Qinglong Temple" By Huangfu Ran (Tang dynasty) It's comfortable up in the mountains, Watching the season pass by. Sounds of flowing water from near and far, Views of mountains from east and west. Setting sun upon the grassy path, Growing leaves cover the courtyard trees. Qingming Festival has come and gone, Just like the seasons and the temple visitors.

《青龍寺早夏》 [唐] 白居易 塵埃經小雨，地高倚長坡。 日西寺門外，景氣含清和。 閑有老僧立，靜無凡客過。 殘莺意思盡，新葉陰涼多。 春去來幾日，夏雲忽嵯峨。 朝朝感時節，年鬓闇蹉跎。 胡爲戀朝市，不去歸煙蘿。 青山寸步地，自問心如何。

Translation (by me):

"Early Summer at Qinglong Temple" By Bai Juyi (Tang dynasty) Light shower settled the dust, Temple grounds blending with the hills. Setting sun outside temple gates, The scene filled with an air of serenity. An old monk stands in idleness, There are no worldly passersby in the stillness. Remaining birds having sung their melodies, New leaves providing ample amounts of shade. End of spring was just days ago, Summer clouds are already towering above. Every day we feel the passing of seasons, Our hair graying in the meantime. Why obsess over bustling cities, When we can return to the lush countryside? These verdant mountains are but a corner of the world, Here I stand and reflect upon the state of my heart.

Huiguo and Kukai

In the first part I mentioned that Qinglong Temple was where Kukai/空海 studied Vajrayana Buddhism (the Chinese Esoteric tradition was also called "Tangmi"/唐密, since it was very popular in Tang dynasty) under Huiguo/惠果. Huiguo was a student of the famous Vajrayana Buddhist master and translator Amoghavajra (Chinese name Bukong/不空). Huiguo eventually became a master himself in the Chinese Esoteric tradition, and was an Acharya (Sanskrit term meaning teacher; translated phonetically as asheli/阿阇黎 in Chinese) who had many students from different places, including from surrounding countries. Kukai was one of his last notable students before he passed away. Kukai returned to Japan in 806 AD and founded the Shingon school of Buddhism/真言宗 (also sometimes called Eastern Esotericism/東密).

Kukai was also a calligrapher and a poet, below are two examples of his works (first is an ink rubbing of his calligraphy work titled "Buddha", second is his calligraphy work named Huushincho/風信帖; both were written in Chinese):

Closeup of Huushincho (from Wikipedia). The original is at Touji Temple in Kyoto, Japan.

Shōryō shu/Xinglingji/性靈集, a collection of kanshi by Kukai. Kanshi/漢詩 is a Japanese word for Chinese poetry. These books here are a gift from Japan.

Bunkyō hifu ron/Wenjingmifulun/文鏡秘府論 by Kukai which discusses Chinese poetry. These books are a gift from Japan.

There are also other gifts from Japan. Left is the top of a khakkhara staff (In Chinese and Japanese: xizhang/锡杖/錫杖, shakujō/錫杖). Right is a Vajra (in Chinese and Japanese: jingangchu/金刚杵/金剛杵, kongosho/金剛杵), this is a Vajrayana ritual object. This particular Vajra is commemorative and bears the names of Huiguo and Kukai:

And that's all for Qinglong Temple. Next up is another famous temple in Xi'an, Daci'en Temple/大慈恩寺.

[offbranddrpepsi]

Hello! I would like to make a request. Hwei x Female!White-tailed deer vastaya!Reader headcanons. Reader is a very talented writer and poet, but very shy. Like a deer, it is very easy to scare her off if you approach her unnoticed or call sharply. She has horns, but in her tribe their presence does not depend on gender, unlike ordinary white-tailed deer. Thank you very much!

I want you to know this is such a cute idea and pair for Hwei. I hope i did well

A little bird had settled on the tip of your horns as you wrote yet another poem. Nature was just as calming as it was inspiring so of course you found the easiest time crafting your works here. The little grove you had claimed as your own was secluded, over looking a small lake your tribe often spent their summers at. Right now it was nearing winter so they had drifted further into the forest, preparing for all that it would bring. For you it was the perfect time to breath the life around you into your works before you would be forced to stay close to the group for fear of catching your death.

Idle sounds of nature didn't frighten you as much as one would think. While alert you were still blissful, a small stack of papers sat next to you waiting for the fresh ink to dry. That is when the woods grew silent, a sign of danger, a sign you should either hunker down or leave. A breaking stick sent you and the animals that had found comfort in your presence sprinting off, taking shelter in the brush. Your poems had not been forgotten, well, one had.

The next day you returned, the grove untouched but you were still anxious. Back you went to your work, this time writing a short story for the children of your tribe, something to make them excited for the long winter. The pinks and purples of dawn turned to oranges of dusk. You nearly lost yourself in your work before loud rustling followed by a hardy THUNK sounded from the woods. Away you bounded, your deer like nature allowing you to get away quickly and effortlessly, leaving little trace of yourself but ink marks on the rocks where you sat.

This time you waited for almost two weeks before you returned. What ever creature was lurking had to have lost interest by then so you should be safe. You spent the whole day working and writing, night being your signal to pack things up and head back home. Thats when you saw movement in the woods. Your ears flattened against your head, legs tense as they prepared to run, head tilted forward just enough your horns were ready if you had to defend yourself. Thats when a boy? No, a man, emerged from the woods. Slow and cautious he held his hands up, a scroll in one while the other stayed empty. Weary eyes looked up at you through black hair as he placed the scroll down before backing away. Curious you leaned downward, picking it up quickly.

"I'm sorry I scared you," his voice was strained, he was winded, he must have hiked up here through the long path that cut down the hill. "I didn't know someone would be up here and when I tried to apologize you ran then you didn't show up, you left this." Digging through his tunic he brought out a sheet of paper, eyeing it from your distance you spotted that it was one of you poems. Your face bloomed in embarrassment, ears drooping, at the realization. "That's for you, as an apology" He pointed at the scroll in your arms.

Unrolling it you were greeted with a mess of color that gave way to a beautiful piece of art. It took you looking at it in awe before you realized it was you. Sat poised on the rock you often called home, over looking the lake in the wee hours of the morning, a sky of brilliant violet and pink behind you. Everything was perfect and beautiful, he'd even gotten the details on your tail and ears right despite the obvious distance. You looked blissful, you couldn't help but blush more.

"T-thank you," was all that fell from your mouth as you kept looking at the art.

"Your poem inspired me," he kept his distance though he relaxed, fiddling with his hair as he talked. "And you, you're so peaceful when you write." "You watched me??" "Yes, sorry!" it was his turn to flush as he admitted being maybe a bit creepy. "I don't see Vastayaan often and you're breathtaking surrounded by everything, all the creatures seem so at peace with you here." Hwei wasn't sure what he was saying or why. His mind was often so loud, so painful, and his art showed that. He wasn't used to seeing another artist creating so peacefully, so blissful that it flowed to him and brought him a moment of peace. "I'm sorry, I wont do it again. " "it's fine," your voice was still a bit shaky, not knowing how to take the compliment or how to handle it right now. You felt a bit of guilt but also were flattered he thought so much of you to paint you. "Would you like to read more of my poems? I can come back tomorrow?" "If you'd allow me I'd be honored, maybe I can paint while you write?" "That sounds perfect!" Your smile was infectious, spreading to him easily. "But please announce yourself before just appearing it's unsettling." He answered with a laugh, though it seemed a bit strained but not forced, like he wasn't quite used to laughing. The two of you bid each other farewell, excitement settling into you for your next meeting that would hopefully be a bit less sudden.

[lovebugism]

Hiii!!!

So I have this idea, i hope you like it: Picnic day with steve and the kids, chaotic but full of fun and love ♡

hi angel! this was a super fun request! i hope you like it!! — the one where steve takes his babysitting gig up to weathertop and you bring peace to the ensuing chaos (fluff, established relationship, 1.9k)

bug's summer fic fest ♡

The hike to Weathertop is long and merciless. Even though Dustin warned you it would be, Steve complains the entire trek upwards.

“There’s no way we’re not there yet, dude,” the boy whines like a child, head thrown back and eyes squeezed shut. 

You’re practically dragging him up the relentless mountain now. With every labored stride, full of aching thighs and blades of grass cutting your ankles, you’re pulling a human with you. 

Steve’s hand hasn’t left yours since you pulled off at the side of the road at Kerley, nearly a half hour ago. His long fingers stay curled between yours — sweaty palms, incessant griping, and all.

“For the hundredth time, we’re close, alright?” Dustin gripes between heavy pants. The curly-haired boy leads the group with a duffle bag of supplies in tow. “You know, maybe if you stop complaining, we’d get there faster.”

“Alright. Watch the tone, you little shit,” Steve squints at the back of him.

You grin at the red-faced boy, equally as exerted as you tug on his hand. 

“C’mon. Stevie,” you lilt with your head to your shoulder, blinking at him with pretty eyes that sparkle beneath a yellow sun. “We’re almost there, okay? I can almost see the top of it now.”

You walk ahead of him with the intent to pull him forward. He plants his feet, dirty sneakers rooted in the billowing grass — immovable. You’re not nearly as athletic as he is. None of you are. But he’s eons more dramatic than the lot of you. Stubborn, too.

“I don’t know how you dragged me into this,” Steve deadpans. Though his structured features are fixed in a firm scowl, his chocolate eyes still melt for you.

This was the one day all week he had off from the hellscape that was Starcourt. He’d had it all planned out — breakfast in bed with his girl, a little hike after lunch with his friends, maybe a swim after, and then a movie and dinner (again, with his best girl).

But it’s well into the afternoon now, with no end of the journey in sight. All his plans are ruined and, like a boy, he pouts.

“‘Cause you love me?” you reply with a scrunched nose and an innocent shrug.

Steve only huffs in response. The big, dramatic exhale deflates his chest. He lets you pull him up the hill despite the glower on his face.

He grumbles like a raincloud, “Yeah… Guess so…”

Dustin tells you all about a girl named Suzie he met at summer camp. Something about Utah, Phoebe Cates, and ‘super religious white people.’ It’s hard to hear him over the blood rushing in your ears. 

“I’m not Mormon, so her parents would never approve. It’s all a bit… Shakespearean—”

“I don’t wanna alarm anyone, but I think I might have sunstroke,” Robin blurts with wide eyes.

You all still and turn to look at her. Steve scoffs. “Do you even know the signs of sunstroke?”

“Are you hot?” you ask the brunette girl who idles on the other side of Steve.

“Like an oven,” she affirms, freckled face glowing pink. “If you touch me right now, I might actually burn you.”

“Are you dizzy? Or Nauseous?”

“I’ve been debating using this picnic basket as a puke bucket for five whole minutes,” she confesses quickly.

Max leaves Lucas’ side and walks a few steps down the mountain to take the wicker basket from the girl’s grip. Just in case.

“Are you confused?”

“Always,” Robin and Steve answer at the same time.

“Well, shit, Buckley,” you quip with a huff. “You might have sunstroke.”

The boy squeezes your hand and he shoots you a look. “Don’t tell her that. You’ll just freak her out.”

“Too late,” Robin wavers, glassy-eyed gaze gaping and faraway.

“Look!” Dustin exclaims. He’s got a wide grin on his face as he points further up the mountain. “I can see Cerebro now! That means we’re close!”

“You’ve been saying that for ten minutes!” Steve shouts in response.

The curly-haired boy shifts awkwardly under the weight of his glare. “Yeah, but… Now, I mean it.”

And sure, the hike to Weathertop was long and merciless, but the view was worth it. 

It was the highest point in all of Hawkins, according to Dustin’s calculations. You could see the small town vaguely in the distance, though nature consumed you most of all. The tall grass and lush trees surrounding you were virtually untouched by man — well, aside from a couple of teenagers and their satellite, at least.

Steve squints up at the metal structure with his hands on his hips. He looks too much like a dad in his basketball shorts and form-fitting t-shirt.

“Damn,” he huffs. “You guys built all this?”

Dustin grins. “Yep. Impressed?”

“By how nerdy all of you are? Absolutely,” the boy mutters before walking over to you.

You stand at the edge of the hill, your gaze glued to the green spanning miles ahead of you. Everything is tinted a flaxen shade with the sun just starting to set. In the pink sky, everything glimmers golden.

“It’s so pretty up here,” you marvel as Steve’s arms curl around your waist.

He hugs you to him, neverminding the sweat dampening your sticky skin. His face leans against yours. You can feel the scruff dusting along his reddened cheek. 

“Isn’t this sunset, like, the most beautiful thing you’ve ever seen?”

“Hmm. I don’t know,” Steve hums with a teasing inflection. “Maybe the second most beautiful thing.”

He’s beaming when you spin in his arms. You meet his wide grin with a playful scowl. 

“You’re such an idiot,” you grouse, though you’re smiling by the time he leans down to kiss you. 

His lips are soft and pink like the sky above you. He tastes like peanuts and chocolate from the trail mix he had earlier. You melt into him effortlessly, too quickly forgetting where you are.

“Don’t be gross!” Robin whines from behind the two of you.

You part from Steve to look over at her. Her arms are crossed over her chest and her features are contorted in discontent.

“I don’t have an escape route up here for that, and I am not walking all the way back down there.”

“Sorry…” you wince as you step out of Steve’s arms.

“Yeah, sorry, Robin,” the boy concedes, just before pulling you back and smacking another kiss to your cheek.

—————

The day goes by in a blink. 

It hardly feels like hours have passed, but the sun has long set over Weathertop now. The sky turns into a deep blue velvet shade and sparkles with twinkling stars.

Dustin hasn’t yet parted from Cerebro. He’s still trying to contact Suzie, but she hasn’t answered him yet. He certainly isn’t disproving the fake girlfriend allegations, but the rest of them gave up teasing him about it long ago.

Instead, you idle in the dewy grass with your heads tilted to the sky. 

Max and Lucas share a blanket with Mike and Will. The latter two boys have long dozed off, full on candy and sandwiches. You and Steve lay across from them on your own quilt. He leans back, propped up on his toned arms as you lounge against his chest. 

Robin sits on the cooler next to Cerebro and tries not to go crazy when Dustin asks, “Suzie, do you copy?” for the millionth time.

“Look! There’s Orion!” you grin as you point to the sky.

Steve follows your finger and squints. “There’s no way you’re actually seeing this shit.”

“Just find Sirius and go a little to the left,” you explain, motioning to the constellation with your hand. “It looks like a person holding a bow and arrow. You literally can’t miss it.”

You tilt your head against the boy’s chest to see his face. His bushy brows pinch together in confusion. “What the hell is a Sirius?” 

“Suzie, do you copy—”

“Oh, my god,” Robin groans. “She’s obviously not there, Dustin.”

“She’s there! She’ll pick up!”

“Maybe Cerebro just doesn’t work,” Steve shrugs.

Lucas counters without missing a beat. “Or maybe Suzie just doesn’t exist.”

“She exists!” Dustin retorts, his voice a few octaves higher than normal.

“She’s a genius, and she’s hotter than Phoebe Cates?” the boy scoffs with a laugh. “No girl is that perfect.”

“Ooh,” you hear Steve wince from behind you when Max shoots up from her lazed position. You cover your mouth to hide your smile as Lucas sits up with her. He looks a little bit frightened beneath the redhead’s piercing glare.

“Is that so?” Max wonders with an arched brow. She tilts her head to her shoulder and turns to look at you. “Would Steve ever say something that to you?”

“Definitely not,” you answer with a shake of your head.

“Because he’s, like, definitely smarter than that, right?”

You nod. “Absolutely.”

“I mean… You’re perfect! Like, perfect in your own way!” Lucas stammers as he tries to defend himself. “In your own— In your own special way.”

You feel Steve’s laugh rumble in his chest. “He’s a little confused, but he’s got the spirit.”

The younger couple squints at him. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, that it’s not about being hotter than Phoebe Cates,” the boy answers with a shrug. 

You lean back against him to watch his face as he explains. He props you and him up with one arm and gestures with the other. “Like, sure, she’s pretty and all, but she’s not real. When you love someone, you love them because they’re not perfect. Not in spite of it, you know?”

“Well, statistically speaking, no one’s perfect,” Dustin chimes in with the radio’s microphone in hand.

Steve scoffs. “That’s not true. Whatever happened to beauty is in the eye of the beholder, huh? Being perfect isn’t about not having flaws or whatever. That’s bullshit. It’s about loving someone and thinking they’re still perfect even if they are loud, and weird, and strange.”

Your chest swells with so much warmth that it starts to ache. Maybe it’s just the lingering sunburn or your adoration for the boy you lay upon. You can feel the burn of it either way. 

A grin tugs at the corners of your mouth as you squint up at him. You can only see the chiseled edges of his profile from this angle. “Not to be presumptuous or anything, but are you saying that I’m loud and weird and strange?” 

Steve tilts his chin to look down at you. His brown eyes sparkle, full of love and warmth, as he smiles softly down at you. “You are absolutely all of those things, yes.”

You beam up at him, bright like the moonlight bathing the two of you in neon blue. You’ve never felt so loved for all the things you hated about yourself. 

Steve’s got the same dazzling smile on his face as he leans down to kiss you. You quickly find that it’s impossible to lock your mouths together when you’re grinning so wide. It’s just smiles pressed against smiles and noses knocking together for all of half a second.

“Jesus Christ,” Robin grouses in a mumble as she tears the crust off her peanut butter and jelly sandwich. She shoves it in her mouth a second later and mumbles through the mouthful. “I’d rather be having sunstroke.”

“Tell me about it,” Dustin scoffs, then turns back to the radio. “Suzie, do you copy?”

He flinches when a balled-up piece of bread comes flying his way.

[xzinbdg]

zerobaseone as songs from my playlist!

⭑.ᐟ jiwoong

apocalypse - cigarettes after sex

it's the softness of the song for me! like it feels very calm and that's how also jiwoong feels..

older - isabel larosa

jiwoong may be a bit older than the rest of the members but this man is so fine!!! aging like a fine wine 😵‍💫

babydoll - dominic fike

this gives jiwoong in a suit 😵‍💫 oh lord it fits him so much omg " babydoll I can't move on" yea me too

⭑.ᐟ zhanghao

360 - charli xcx

hao is a brat!!!!! like he owns brat summer let's be real!!!!!

symphony - clean bandit, zara larsson

i absolutely love this song!!! and a big part of it is this beautiful violin!!! it almost seems like the violin is singing as well and that always makes me think of hao 🥹

new flame - chris brown, usher, rick ross

"you gon' be my baby, love me, love you crazy" i love this song for hao so much 😭😭😭 it's so cute in it's own way

⭑.ᐟ hanbin

agora hills - doja cat

"baby let me lick on your tattoos" INSANE BUT I ALWAYS THINK OF HANBIN WHEN THIS PART COMES ON 😵‍💫

daddy issues - the neighborhood

now....i had to sorry...he feels very warm to me and the way he treats the younger members is 🫠🫠🫠 him saying that he's rising yujin was my 13 reason

that's me right there - jasmine v, kendrick lamar

"yea that my man" 🤭😋 he may not be my bias but he definitely is on my mind a lot

⭑.ᐟ matthew

souvenir - selena gomez

"you're giving me chills at a 100 degrees" and he would...his whole being is so attractive i cannot

save your tears - the weeknd

now why do I feel like he would slay a cover of this song like it has his vibes!!!

everytime - ariana grande

"why oh why does god keep bringing me back to you?" so you see everytime I have a bias wracker this man comes to remind me who really is the bias here

⭑.ᐟ taerae

please please please - sabrina carpenter

"i beg you don't embarrass me mfucker" except it's him talking to his members 😭😭😭😭

super lady - (g)-idle

HE OWNS THIS SONG LIKE EVERY TIME I HEAR "lady, lady call me super lady" ALL I SEE IS TAERAE WITH THEM TROPHIES

duvet -bôa

taerae pls for the love of god cover this song 🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏 like his voice would sound heavenly 😭

⭑.ᐟ ricky

role model - brent faiyaz

"i can be your role model" i think is pretty obvious why i choose this song 🤭🤭🤭 it does give off that "rich" vibe tho

heartbreaker - justin bieber

"don't tell me you're my heartbreaker" he may look cold but that man is the softest person on earth and gets hurt really easily :(((

i'm yours - isabel larosa

"you're so pretty it hurts" and he is....insanely pretty and everytime i see him he just gets more and more pretty it's crazy

⭑.ᐟ gyuvin

see you again - tyler, the creator, kali uchis

"can I get a kiss? and can you make it last forever?" YES YES YES YES SO GYUVIN!!!!

i don't do drugs - doja cat, ariana grande

i think it's more the instrumental and overall mood of the song but it does fit gyuvin in my opinion 🥹

paris - sabrina carpenter

"but i already have love in la" it's like he's your biggest bias wrecker (he is for me) but you're trying TRYING to stay loyal to your bias 😭😭😭

⭑.ᐟ gunwook

nun id change - yeat

this right here is peak gunwook vibes, it's the boys planet entry gunwook that everyone was afraid of 😋

ta ta ta - bayanni, jason derulo

please it's a crime that I haven't seen an edit of wook with this song (if anyone have seen it send it to me rachel) it's soooo wook im gonna cry

500lbs - lil tecca

"it's like you don't know your a star tell her that I'm still adjusting" and i feel like he did adjust, wook was confident from the very beginning but now he's just glowing with that confidence!!!

⭑.ᐟ yujin

baby i - ariana grande

"everytime i try to say it words they only complicate it" here's our shy baby yujin!! it's honestly crazy to me that he's younger than me! MY SON!!!!

glue song - beabadoobee

"I've never known someone like you" yujin to me is so special like i truly never seen an idol with his personality! just a kid being a kid and i love it!

misery - nimstarr

"ima walk how i want cause you'll never be like me" he truly is a once in a million idol to me! imagine being this talented and successful at his age!!

zerobaseone masterlist

[rendy-a]

hi hi! can I ask for some househusband Ruggie with a side of cottagecore? the literal kind- fluff, and tysm for writing! his S/O has a garden full off food, can work carpentry and the repair work, so.. does he just decide to be a malewife with the occasional side gigs? (at least half of his living costs just became free) how would he navigate a life like that? would he brag about his S/O? did he pull a 'yes I do the cleaning yes I-' in the head the second he learnt about it? ty again!

Thank you for the request! I had to look up what Cottagecore was but, agh! that fits Ruggie so well. He'd love to have such a self-sufficient spouse as his partner. I hope you enjoy my musings about living in the countryside with Ruggie.

He can’t get used to having food available all over.  Garden, check.  Orchard, check.  Canned food in the pantry, yes.  Homemade bread on the table, you know it.  Is this home or a buffet?  He can’t help but hoard a little bit of food in his Tupperware.  Luckily, turning those leftovers into new meals is also one of your hobbies.

Ruggie has spent so much time doing odd jobs that he can’t comfortably sit still for long periods of time.  You introduce him to some of your idle hobbies to help him deal with the change.  Knitting on the porch wiles away the evening.  You’ll each have a new pair of warm socks before winter.  When the snow keeps you indoors, you teach Ruggie how to needlepoint.  Embroidered cushions make great gifts (and are easy to sell in the summer farmer’s market shishishi!)

Self-sufficiency means making a lot of things yourself.  Ruggie is used to fixing items from his odd jobs but you are full-on making things from scratch.  Whether it is furniture, a new garden bed or a replacement roof on the shed; if something needs making, you are making it together!  You need to teach him the ropes, but Ruggie makes for a first-class woodworking assistant.  There is nothing more satisfying than finishing a project that you’ve done together.

Deep fall was setting in and Ruggie was doing his annual check-over for winter.  You both knew it was unnecessary, but it gave him comfort to know things were there, so you ignored it.  You passed by the root cellar and could hear him counting jars of your canned food.  “How are things looking down there?” you called to him.  You heard a surprised yelp from below before your spouse’s face appeared in the stairwell.  “Geeze, don’t scare me like that.  I almost dropped a jar of peaches,” he reproaches you gently.  You smile an apology to him.  “I think we’ll be ok.  Might have to ration the berry jam; I wish we’d have noticed when the birds started in on our bushes,” he finishes with an annoyed expression.  You give him a grunt of agreement and wander away. 

The next time you noticed your spouse doing his secret inspection was the following day.  You were returning from the neighbor’s place.  You had an arrangement with them to trade some of your special recipe canned tomato sauce for their soft, homespun yarn.  You had chosen a yarn ball with golden hues that reminded you of your spouse’s adorable ears.  You smiled as you walked over the last hill separating your home from the next and caught sight of those same adorable ears poking up from the rooftop.  You knew what he was doing up there; checking for leaks and worrying that your little nest would be less than cozy over the cold winter months.  Even so, you called up to him, “Lose something up there?”  He jumps up and looks down at you guiltily, “Ah no.  I thought I heard a bird or something trapped up here and came to give it a look.”  You smile at him, “Find any?”  He looks at you suspiciously, “No but maybe I should keep looking.”  You wave a goodbye, “Ok Dear, just be down in time for dinner.  I’m making those biscuits you like so much.”

Dinner that night was a quiet affair, but it usually is.  One of your favorite parts of living in the countryside is the silence that comes from having no close neighbors.  You love the soft change in melody when the birds stop chirping and the night insects take over instead.  You open the oven a tiny crack to check on your cooking (it’s progressing well) and then wander off to find your spouse.  Ruggie is in the linen closet checking over your warm blankets; probably both counting the quantity and searching for holes that need mending.  “How’s the inspection going?” you ask from behind.  Ruggie heaves a tired sigh, “It’s all in order.”  You tilt your head to the side, “You don’t sound happy about that.” 

He grabs the collar of his shirt and looks at you accusingly, “It’s not right.  Something doesn’t feel right.  Life can’t be this easy.  My life can’t be this easy.” He finishes quietly looking at you out of the corner of his eye.  You step to his side and rub his back comfortingly.  You’d chase all his demons away, if you could but you know this is a battle for him to conquer himself.  You lay your head briefly on his shoulder and remark, “Diner will be done soon.  Come sit down whenever you are ready.”  Then you give him a kiss on the cheek and head back to the kitchen.

One of your favorite things about cooking for Ruggie is how thoroughly he enjoys his meals.  He eats your simple fare with relish, lip-smacking after each course.  “Seconds?” you ask impishly.  He gives you a wide grin and holds out his plate.  You put another helping on and he thanks you with his signature “Shishishi!”  When you finally gauge that even a glutton like Ruggie has had his fill, you come over to collect his plate.  You put your arm around him and kiss the top of his head, “All set?”  He lets out a contented huff and puts his hand on your arm, “Yeah, I’m full.”  You move to grab the plate, but he does not release your arm.  You look down at him and he mutters, “So full.”  Then he leans his head into your belly and closes his eyes.  You move to give him a full embrace and lean your head on the top of his own. 

The winter winds would come soon but what did it matter when your cottage was so filled with warm love.

[keepthefrank]

lovely jet @vampiregerard tagged me to list my top songs from 15 of my favorite artists!

List fifteen bands/artists you love, and name your favorite song by each. No need to rank, just fifteen artists you love and what is THE SONG for you by each. Also, it doesn't have to be your top fifteen bands, just fifteen you like!

the dirty nil - that’s what heaven feels like

idles - when the lights come on

fontaines dc - nabokov

mannequin pussy - control

menzingers - the freaks

title fight - be a toy

amyl and the sniffers - got you

the kills - black balloon

gregory alan isakov - dandelion wine

motörhead - i’ll be your sister

mitski - a burning hill

bruce springsteen - i’m goin’ down

nine inch nails - physical (adam ant cover)

shame - burning by design

dz deathrays - shred for summer

ethel cain - golden age

i have so many notes i want to make, like my favorite fontaines song is actually unreleased so i left it off, but here she is 😌 thanks again jet!!

i’m tagging @iloveyou8600 @dogsmouth @shouldveprayedformoreguts @nectarinebat @matchas @mag200 if you’d like!

[feeling-horsey]

>Equius: Hunt the wolf (P1)

It isn't actually a wolf, you think. If it were, you would have no reason to be here in the first place. This was no creature of the Earth. It is one of the wind and sky. It is the gentle rustle of the grass on a breezy day as its prey is stalked, and it is the lightning that flashes as quick and ivory as it's fangs.

You don't know what it looks like. But you do know it is evil. Purely and totally. Or else the power you used to find it in the first place would have passed it over. You flip black your cloak to pull the watch from your breast pocket. One of the numerous ways you had enchanted it back when your contract allowed you to do wonders was to make it a truly accurate timepiece.

4:07 pm, July 8th, 1271.

The hours aligned, but not the date. Intriguing. It was impressive how the universes you visited always seemed to differ in time. Perhaps that was the nature of traveling to it through a place beyond it's reach.

Such pondering, idle as it was, distracted from the task on hand. There was a monster to hunt. You grunted softly as you reach into one of your cloak's many pockets. The ring you remove is old, you think. Someone gave it to you.. But you don't remember who it was. In reality, it was only perhaps a sweep or so ago in real time.. But for you, He Who Dwells Outside, that might as well have been eons. It is hard to keep track of these things, at least when they happened before you started noting them down.

Your glove was removed, and the simple ring was slipped onto your finger. You felt the illusion cover your form, the gentle tingle of magic. While you had some measure of ability to change your looks when your body is reconstructed from the Nothing, you could not manage what this simple artifact does. The skin of your calloused hands shifts from the pallid, cold blue-grey to a light, pinkish peach. You tighten it into such a fist that the knuckles turn white, instead.

This world was too young and ignorant for you to appear as what you were. The peasants would likely think you the monster, rather than the being there to liberate them from it. Eyes lift to scan the horizon.

Grain.

The warm gold sea shuddered with the warm summer air, sending ripples in the rolling fields of tilled farmland. Anywhere else, this would have been a safe place. Even now you could see the gentle wisps of smoke that trailed from the village, perhaps only a mile away. By all measures you were still within the boundaries of civilization, of it's safety. But you knew better.

Your eyes followed the gentle shimmer of reflected sunlight as the wheat rustled. A low grunt emanated from your chest. It was pointless to watch. It could be any of the fields. You hoped it would not be in all of them. The first order of business was finding where to look.

You stepped down from the hill to make the trek toward the village, hackles raised. Without your companion to watch your back, you had to do it yourself. A lone traveler is often such a beast's ideal prey, unless..

You shuddered at the idea of the alternative.

[gorbalsvampire]

𝖃𝕴𝕴𝕴 𝕿𝖆𝖑𝖊𝖘 𝖋𝖗𝖔𝖒 𝕱𝖊𝖚𝖉𝖆𝖑 𝕭𝖔𝖍𝖊𝖒𝖎𝖆

𝔄𝔠𝔱 ℑℑ, 𝔰𝔠𝔢𝔫𝔢𝔰 𝔳 𝔢𝔱 𝔳𝔦

Our story arrives at the traditional two-part end-of-season finale-type wham episode. It wasn't planned this way, but it turned out I'd overplanned slightly and there was a knot of "I know what you need to know but I can't tell you what to ask for" we needed to pick our way past to resolve things and we were all too sleepy, so we split this session right down the middle and it was the correct decision to make. Oh lord, was it ever the correct decision to make.

This is gonna run long. Put a brew on. Make one for me while you're in there - Earl Grey, oat milk, no sugar. Big mug. No, the big mug - there you go. Perfect.

We begin in the monastery of St. Lawrence, on Petrin Hill, where Brother Marsillius is tending to the wounded knight and also sipping from his dressings because the Lord helps those who help themselves. Said knight has regained consciousness, and introduces himself as Christof, a second son on his way to join the muster of the Sword Brethren for crusade into pagan Livonia.

Alas, he was waylaid in the woods outside Prague: some demon, with great paws and a scaled hide and baleful red eyes, set upon him and gouged him without mercy. Marsillius recognised this as a vodnik - a water creature that comes in many forms and does not usually attack travellers without provocation. Christof confessed he might have swung first, but - he is here to fight the enemies of the Lord, is he not?

Christof thanked him for his ministrations and asked if, perhaps, now that he could walk again, there was some small duty he could do? Even if not the sword, some work to which he might put his idle hands?

Marsillius also saw an opportunity, or perhaps experienced a craving. Seeking permission from his sire, he produced a potion of sorts - a muddle of herbs and vitae that would, he swore, aid noble Christof in his recovery. In return, said Garinol, Christof was to visit the Cathedral of St. Vitus and transcribe the inscription from a reliquary that Garinol could not bear to handle.

Marsillius and Christof experienced a very godly and heterosexual moment. That's what the notes say.

We needed a brief moment of OOC time here, to re-establish exactly why everyone was going to Vysehrad. It helps to keep everyone aware of all the threads and stakes going into a resolution, and also to refresh the memory of decisions made weeks ago in real time.

To summarise: Marsillius' premonition suggested he should go to the mountain and Alzbeta was going too, to pray with him. Theodericus was worried about his friends, and Libussa, and Shaagra. Mariam needed to prove there was nothing evil in the ghetto, and to confirm her Compulsion-induced belief that All This Shit Was Connected, and also her cat was up that mountain somewhere.

As Mariam and Marsillius had an awkward conversation - she can't read him at all, but no doctrine on either of their parts says they can't be friends. This was the first time, I think, that she'd admitted these people were her friends. She wanted to make right what she'd done to Katya, or caused to be done - nobody deserves to live forever as a tongueless, silent possession. Alzbeta arrived, and then Theodericus, and gosh, when he walks up with his travelling cloak and his chainmail, his long sword and his short sword and his eating knife with their lion's head pommels, suddenly it's possible to take him seriously. The age of chivalry is almost upon us, and the stories are already starting to be told; Mariam was genuinely awed by the sight of this actual knight.

The coterie made their way along the south road, by the banks of the Vitava, sneaking out of the city without lights to avoid the Prince hearing of their departure. A mist was rising off the river, and the going was hard. I should add, at this point, that it's a long and tricky enough walk to Vyserhad, on a short summer night, that nobody had a chance to feed before they left - so Alzbeta was sharply hungry at 4, and nobody was below 2.

Along the road they passed a decrepit watermill, and the two Cainites leading the way - Mariam with Eyes of the Beast, Alzbeta with Heightened Senses - pulled up sharp. Something was watching. Something in the rafters with eyes as red as either of theirs. Mariam stared it down, sheer heft and silent fury incarnate, and when she showed a Messy Critical, the watcher's will broke first; something tumbled, and fell into the stream, and was gone into the river proper in a flash. Some vast and terrible fish. Something Marsillius also recognised; the vodnik is said to take many forms, among them a pawed and scaled fiend, an old man with a ragged beard and a green felt hat, and a pike of unusual size.

The lights of Vyserhad were visible, ahead and above - so many lights. Torches and candles lining the crenellations, the battlements carved from the living mountain. A path, winding to and fro up and up. A gatehouse, and atop it a grotesque, a winged shape with vast owlish eyes, seven feet tall and not even standing upright, and - it was moving. It knew they were coming.

In the end, it was Theodericus that stepped up: they were guests and, as such, must introduce themselves. Such courtesy (and dots in Etiquette, dump skill my ass) did not go unrewarded. Szarka, warlord of the Fiends, descended with a powerful leap and greeted the visitors; trifold jaws and a foot-long tongue choked out a welcome. Mariam's lack of respect for the Prince, and Alzbeta's talk of visions, were the deciders; Szarka took them in.

Through the winding streets of Vyserhad, the Citadel; dense and shuttered, flickering candles and restless dreams all around. To the square before the immense Gothic basilica, the Cathedral of St. Peter and St. Paul, the most nodular and extravagant architecture in the city: as though the stone itself wished for a more outlandish shape.

In the square before it, a dead tree hung with climbing orange flowers. At the foot of the tree, bare earth, and on that earth a throne, and on that earth, barefoot and languid, Libussa. Theodericus took a knee and Alzbeta dropped a curtsey before Mariam and Marsillius could even ask who this was.

She was attended by guards - orange surcoats and splinted leather, or the wide hats and staves of the wandering Chods - and by a second Fiend. This Depolt, tall and rangy, arms hanging a foot longer than is normal and four more twitching within his robes, bade them welcome in a voice semi-consistently resembling that of David Warner, and extended to them the hospitality of Clan Tzimisce.

Nervous, Marsillius chose to Sense the Unseen, and lord, did he ever sense it! The comforting light-without-light, warmth-without-warmth of the Basilica ahead, and all around, all around, beneath and below, the mountain - dark, watchful, aware, seeing him and them through every flame. Our poor boy bare shat himself, had he but been living, and tried to sneak into the Basilica to be with his God.

Libussa's head snapped round, and a voice not quite her own asked what he was about. He spoke to her of visions; of a calling from God that brought him to this mountain, and his need to pray. Alzbeta spoke of experiences much the same. And Libussa asked them if she was the royal nun the rumours spoke of (she is not; that honour belongs to Sister Agnes), and if he had seen what she had seen; been seen by what saw her.

Here follows a break between sessions. We wrapped up by establishing everyone's immediate Desires for next time. Alzbeta was discovering things about herself and God, and she wanted to know more of the Tzimisce and their ways. Marsillius was afraid, mortally afraid, and wanted to get onto consecrated ground where he was safe. Mariam was disgruntled; none of these people save for Szarka spoke plainly, and she wanted to speak to Szarka, protector to protector. Theodericus was concerned: although the Tzimisce didn't seem as monstrous and horrible as he'd been warned, Libussa still seemed ill-treated, and he wanted to ensure her well being. She was, after all, a queen. And everyone wanted more meat crimes; it was felt that I could be going harder. I still find Koldunic Sorcery more interesting than Vicissitude, but let it not be said that ol' Relleytrots doesn't take feedback...

To ease the pressure and create some better scenes, oh some absolute scenes, we (I) divided the coterie. Depolt sensed the Hunger radiating off Alzbeta, and invited her and Theodericus to dine with him; what kind of host would he be if he did not?

Libussa rose from her throne and expressed, to the air at large, that she was so tired, may she rest now? thus confirming to Marsillius that she was not in control of her own form. He recalled that she often slept on sacred ground, and asked if they could see inside the Basilica. Alas; no. Ground sacred to the White Christ is not for Tzimisce to walk upon. But Marsillius was free to try, and the Tzimisce looked... expectant. Anticipatory, even.

This left Mariam alone with Szarka, whose form imploded on itself, buckling and collapsing into a body more human, a little shorter than Mariam, patagia wings indistinguishable from sleeves, that furry mass behind her shoulders merely a fine stole, ignore that her dress is the flushed red of a blush and that her tongue is still a foot long.

Marsillius first, inside the Gothic magnificence of the Basilica, seeing and feeling Libussa's steps become lighter and more hesitant with every stair they climbed. He ended up carrying her to the altar, laying her down before Peter and Paul and Christ, and asking her, in hesitant tones: who is doing this to her?

And Libussa answered, clearer than she'd ever been before: magna mater, blood of my blood, queen of my world, the goddess Shaagra, the Dragon of Prague. She who gave Libussa the gift of prophecy; she who claimed two older sisters and two eldest sons. She whose blood was the Premsyl blood, and the secret of Libussa's four hundred years of life. And Libussa was - is - so old. So tired. May she not rest? Is there not more toil?

Marsillius, tormented - for this is how he preys, and this is the Lord's work that he does, to feed upon the dying and ease their passage from the world - asked: can she be stopped? If she is waking, can Shaagra be stopped?

Libussa does not know why you would want that. Libussa must sleep, now.

Smash cut. Mariam and Szarka, outside. The realisation that I've fucked myself with Szarka and Shaagra and, in everyone's consciousness, Sorcha. I should have used Valasca, but I got so hooked on the murder valley...

Mariam and Szarka had their heart to heart. It was a beautiful conversation: long silences and long thought, speaking true and from the heart. Mariam wanted to know if there was evil in the Josefov, or threat to it and to her people; to those she called friends; to the people of Prague. Szarka took her time to answer carefully, for hers is the Road of the Beast - she does not dissemble.

Evil in the Josefov? Not of her doing or her family's. Threat to the Josefov? Not by her will; no grievance there. Threat to the city? To others? Who can say? When the Dragon wakes, she will be hungry, but her hunger will be sated first in Vysehrad.

If it comes to blows, these two will be enemies, but they were able, here and now, to talk as kindred spirits. Mariam expressed her concern that Prince Brandl thought the threat to Prague was coming from her clan and people, and Szarka explained that he has always feared and mistrusted Zvi and the Jews; that if he spilled their blood it would not be on the hands of the Tzimisce.

There followed a discussion of who owns the city. Szarka, maiden of Valasca's revolt, warlord to Libussa the first princess of Prague, saw the city as theirs - that is to say, the Tzimisce's. Mariam, a farmer's daughter, saw a continuity: those lands she grew up tilling would never be hers again, they are her father's, and will be his son's, and their son's. What was is passed. What was built by you is not yours forever.

Both of them acknowledged they sounded like their sires. Perhaps there's something there.

For now, their conversation was over, and Mariam went inside the Basilica.

Meanwhile, by the Devil's Column on the north face of the mountain, Depolt and Alzbeta shared stories - Depolt told the tale of how the Devil was cheated and threw down this pillar on the mountainside in rage, and Alzbeta explained how her mother, in madness and fear, had pushed her into the fire to make her form less desirable to men. There was some sympathy there; perhaps she was merely mad.

Depolt explained that he could take those scars - if she wished it - but he understood if she did not wish it, if the body was where the memory was written. There followed a discussion of Disciplines, of moulding the mind and body, and a demonstration of the particularly visceral Feral Weapons to which Depolt had access. These two also have a spark between them - a tendency toward philosophy.

But then the men in splinted leather brought out a family from their home; a woman and her adult sons. A test for both visitors; Alzbeta, the Consensualist, and Theodericus, the Ventrue. Both took their lumps; Alzbeta two Stains, for doing what she did even with a prayer for the prey and letting Theodericus do the same, and Theodericus two Willpower hits, for the weight of his Bane descending. He confided, as they walked back to the square, that he found biting people like that - just like that - rather cruel, and rather crass, and most untidy. Alzbeta, shaking, could not discuss it, and fearing she would have another vision, Theodericus bore her with haste to the Basilica.

Here was Marsillius, and here was Libussa, so very tired. Would he do what he felt bound to do? But here was Mariam, walking in alarmed, saying he and Alzbeta had been right. There was something waking in the mountain, and it was dangerous, but was it something they did not want? Would they let whatever came come, and deal with the aftermath? Would fighting only make things worse?

Marsillius wondered aloud if they should warn the Prince, evacuate the city, at least warn him to quit the city - but if he did, said Mariam, he would come back and find it in others' hands and besiege it, and that would be worse. Prince Brandl was bound to do something stupid, and to blame his rivals, and the visionaries - Alzbeta and Marsillius - were complicit in that, to a degree.

What if they simply removed Prince Brandl? Would they be better off, asked Mariam?

Marsillius looked down at Libussa, maddened and weary, ancient and possessed, and asked in answer: "do you think this is better?"

Stirring in her sleep, Libussa seemed to recognise that Mariam was Jewish - they'd mentioned the rabbi in their conversation - and murmured something about that poor old man, about the Prophet of Kupala, about what she'd seen that night in May-time. That got Mariam worked up, and she strode out, intent on asking the Tzimisce which of you is Kupala's prophet -

Instead, she found Theodericus and the worrying Alzbeta, and as they hastened back inside to confer, Alzbeta dropped her bombshell: "the Prophet of Kupala is my sire."

She described him as resembling Brother Marsillius in passing - older, more haggard, less well kept - and as Marsillius spoke of his desire to save Libussa somehow, to take her from this place or grant her rest with the Kiss, Alzbeta broke down fully. She had already fed here. She had not been able to quiet that scratching dry Hunger in her throat. She had fed upon the unwilling, and - was she damned? was she evil?

That question, in this place, and the concurrent loss of Humanity? That changed things. Libussa rose, and intoned her prophecy in a voice they had not heard before:

Faith defiled shall lead you to me. Innocent blood shall lead me to you.

And within the foundations of the Basilica, within the bowels of that sacred place, they all heard it - crack.

Exit coterie, pursued by a fear. Mariam racing to warn the Jews. Alzbeta and Marsillius, clinging to each others' hands in fear of God and something worse. Theodericus, with Libussa in her arms, convinced at last that she needed to be saved - and, as the players remarked as the tension bled, they'd need her.

Here ends Act II - She Only Speaks In Exposition

Join us next week for Act III - We Gotta Kill The Prince Yesterday

[haveyouseenthishorrormovie]

Stats from Movies 401-500

Top 10 Movies - Highest Number of Votes

The Platform (2019) had the most votes with 1,912 votes. Sauna (2008) had the least votes with 546 votes.

The 10 Most Watched Films by Percentage

Zombieland (2009) was the most watched film with 69.3% of voters out of 858 saying they had seen it.

The 10 Least Watched Films by Percentage

Slender Man (2018) was the least watched film with 71.9% of voters out of 1,354 saying they hadn’t seen it.

The 10 Most Known Films by Percentage

American Psycho (2000) was the best known film, only 1% of voters out of 1,171 saying they’d never heard of it.

The 10 Least Known Films by Percentage

Beaten to Death (2022) was the least known film, 92,86% of voters out of 658 saying they’d never heard of it.

The movies part of the statistic count and their polls below the cut.

Prey (2022) M3GAN (2022) Caveat (2020) Patchwork (2015) All Cheerleaders Die (2013) The Final (2010) Disturbing Behavior (1998) The Gate (1987) Sssssss (1973) Xtro (1982)

Body Melt (1993) Mr. Sardonicus (1961) The Abominable Dr. Phibes (1971) Eating Raoul (1982) Peeping Tom (1960) Night of the Scarecrow (1995) Bad Milo! (2013) Patrick (1978) Beaten to Death (2022) Lovely Molly (2011)

The Passenger (2023) Rent-A-Pal (2020) The Cell (2000) Faust: Love of the Damned (2000) The Children (2008) Prince of Darkness (1987) Escape Room (2019) Eraserhead (1977) Incubus (1966) Blacula (1972)

I Drink Your Blood (1971) Dementia (1955) Hollow Man (2000) Thir13en Ghosts (2001) The Endless (2017) Bite (2015) Idle Hands (1999) Undead (2003) At Midnight I'll Take Your Soul (1964) Daddy's Girl (2018)

Bad Boy Bubby (1993) Warm Bodies (2013) Resident Evil: Welcome to Raccoon City (2021) The Haunting in Connecticut (2009) The Stepford Wives (2004) Fright Night (2011) The Witches (1990) The Hills Have Eyes (2006) Cat People (1942) AVP: Alien vs. Predator (2004)

King Kong (1933) The Happening (2008) Blade (1998) Blade II (2002) Blade: Trinity (2004) Bone Tomahawk (2015) Resident Evil (2002) Don't Look Now (1973) I Know What You Did Last Summer (1997) What Lies Beneath (2000)

Sauna (2008) The Orphanage (2007) Eight Legged Freaks (2002) The Windmill Massacre (2016) Antlers (2021) Slaughterhouse Rulez (2018) Dark Signal (2016) When Evil Lurks (2023) Huesera: The Bone Woman (2022) Halloween (2018)

Halloween Kills (2021) Halloween Ends (2022) Smile (2022) Orphan (2009) Orphan: First Kill (2022) Fresh (2022) Texas Chainsaw Massacre (2022) White Noise (2005) The Platform (2019) In the Tall Grass (2019)

Slender Man (2018) It Chapter Two (2019) Annabelle (2014) The Conjuring (2013) The Nun (2018) Urban Legend (1998) Bones and All (2022) Deep Rising (1998) Black Friday (2021) Werewolf By Night (2022)

Deathgasm (2015) Slither (2006) American Psycho (2000) Friday the 13th (2009) Revenge (2017) Host (2020) A Bay of Blood (1971) Black Christmas (2019) Zombieland (2009) Zombieland: Double Tap (2019)

[dawnslight-aegis]

6. halcyon

Estinien sat on the edge of a bluff overlooking the ruins of a town, blackened timber poking out of snowdrifts, perfectly desolate and serene. He had been back here before, but not for years, and never with company.

The small, dark-haired xaela next to him pulled her knees up and rested her chin on them, arms loosely wrapped around her legs as she looked down. “This is it, then? Ferndale?”

“Aye. Or what’s left of it, at least.”

The ruin bore no resemblance to the home of his childhood, devoid of the rolling green hills where he’d wandered with his family’s flock, the ponds frozen solid, no scent of braised mutton on the wind. What Nidhogg had not taken, the Calamity had, and left naught but his own fading memories behind.

Without preamble, he raised a hand, pointing out landmarks. “There, and farther to the east, were the grazing fields. ‘Twas not so damnably cold then, but grass was still sparse, so we had to range far, even with the small handful of karakul we had. My father took me with him until I had seen seven summers, and after that, it was my duty alone. There is the river where we fished on warm summer days, and the pond in which I learned to swim. The market where my mother sold the clothes she made from the wool we sheared in the springtime, and the spare milk from our goats. The church, where we gathered on Iceday mornings, to hear the teachings of the Fury and learn our letters.” He let his hand fall, sighing. “I was far afield the day Nidhogg came, and did not arrive until he had gone.”

Weight settled against his arm as Marz leaned into him, a comforting reminder that he was not alone. He knew he need not explain what came after, not to her, who had seen his past through his own eyes. Who had lived through her own version of that hell, though her tormentors were garlean, not dravanian.

“What were your parents like?” she asked, her voice uncommonly quiet and gentle.

Estinien felt his mouth twitch into what might have been a small smile. “My mother was kind. She was a weaver, and a seamstress, and a damned good cook. She helped us make ends meet by doing whatever needed doing in the village – mending clothes, washing them, birthing lambs… I believed she could do anything, when I was young. And my father was… Gruff. Distant. Not given to idle chit chat.”

A snort shook through her whole body. “Sounds familiar.”

He grunted noncommitally in response, and she snickered at him so neatly proving her point.

They both lapsed into silence for a while, looking out over the landscape, until Marz spoke again. “What about your brother?”

Estinien’s jaw clenched and he breathed out slowly through his nose, riding the wave of grief that the mere mention caused, until he had steadied enough to speak again. For so much of his life, he had refused to speak of him at all – but this entire trip was meant to make it so someone else would know that his family had lived, so that when he died in battle, they would live on. He would not deny his brother that.

“Hamignant was… nothing like me. Quiet. Kind. Well-mannered. He misliked violence, even when it was necessary. He named every lamb, no matter if it was destined for the market, or the flock, or the cookpot. Read every book he could get his hands on. My mother wanted to send him to Ishgard someday, to the Scholasticate. He told me he wanted to join the priesthood, so he could come back to Ferndale and teach other children, more than one day a sennight.” Once he started, the words came tumbling out in an awkward rush, heedless of if he meant to speak them or not. Only narrowly did he bite back the words that would have followed – that it would have been better if Estinien himself had perished in Nidhogg’s flames, if it meant his little brother might have lived in his stead.

Such black thoughts spoken aloud would only serve to sour both their moods. Not that it was particularly good to begin with, but…

“Did you know that one time, my brother convinced me that one of our clan elders was a wavekin? He was so old, thin and bony and covered in scales, so that barely any skin could be seen. I believed him for two whole years. My mama was so angry when she found out, but my papa thought it was hysterical. He was always playing pranks on me, always acting as if I was so annoying, but he’d stop and help me with anything I asked. Taught me to dance, and how to braid my hair, so he wouldn’t have to anymore.” Bright green eyes blinked up at him, and her fingers laced through his. “I know what it’s like to have a good big brother. And I’m sure you were one.”

A reluctant smile tugged up the corner of his mouth. “One time, Hami wanted to pick flowers for our mother. I thought myself too old for such things, so I spent the day lazing about, not minding what he was doing. That night, there was mysteriously a frog in my parents’ bed – they thought I did it. I ended up taking the blame for him, and he felt so bad that he snuck me extra sweets for days after.” Estinien sighed, but the weight in his chest – everpresent, even after so many years – felt a little easier to bear. “I have not thought of that in ages. I could not respond to the happy memories with anger, and I had no wish to fall to grief, so I simply… did not think of them. I have done my family a disservice in this, I think.”

Marz shook her head. “No one can judge you for what you have done to survive. And living is always harder than the alternative, isn’t it?”

“Aye. It is. But it is worth it, I think.”

He had not always. Had long counted his life as simply a delayed death, determined to take as many enemies with him as he could before he finally succumbed to the fate that should have awaited him that day in Ferndale. That man had died on the Steps of Faith – and given a second chance at life, he had taken it, even though he knew not what to do with it. Still did not, at times.

All he had known was that he wanted it, and Marzanna had been, alongside Alphinaud, the one to give it to him. It seemed only right he share it with her, past and present alike.

[thisaccountisagainstmywill]

"What Else Would We Be?"

An idle thought turned into something more after seeing more people see the shepherd potential in Geraldus. Inspired foremost by the Ruganfucker discord having decided Olly and Geraldus should be friends. Characters: Olly the Zhent and Geraldus the Harper Rating: G Summary: Two young friends ponder their futures. Themes: Slice of Life, Coming of Age, Pre-Canon Word Count: 1,160 Below the Cut or on AO3

Atop a low hill, a small flock of sheep lay hidden from the midday sun in the shadow of an old oak. Small green flowers, caught by gentle gusts, tumble through the air and onto their freshly sheared coats. Not far away, two young boys watch over them from the shade of a younger tree. Their hunting bows and quivers were set aside and leaned against its narrow trunk, the sun too hot to play at target practice today.

Geraldus leans sad-eyed on his shepherd's crook, gangly limbs wrapped awkwardly around the smooth wood. From time to time he glances vaguely at the resting flock, but mostly he lets his eyes and mind wander off over the side of the hill. The day was clear and he could see well across the lush hills and fields that surrounded them.

Beside him, Olly is crouched in the low grass with his own crook lying near his feet. He plucks a strand of grass, inspects it, frowns, and tosses it to a growing pile of rejects. The other boy had long since given up trying to scold him for ripping up the grass when he could come up with no other reasons than “I told you to.” and “Because it hurts the grass.” – The first argument had been rejected for the lack of authority, the second for the ridiculous notion grass had feelings.

Out of nowhere, the taller boy breaks the silence. “Do you think this is all we’re ever going to be?”

“What do you mean by that?” The younger boy doesn’t look up, he was used to his friend getting pensive these days. He pulls up a prize bit of grass squinting to ensure it's up to standard.

“I don’t know…” A flush runs up his pale cheeks and he feels a fool for having brought it up. “...do you think we’re only ever going to be in this field, with all these sheep?”

“We’ve got Trot, too.” Olly nods across the way to the old sheepdog lying nestled among the flock.

Geraldus tilts his head down at the other boy, eyes dead and mouth pressed flat.

Olly throws him an impish grin full of gaps – the last of his adult teeth slow to come in. When he turns back to the grass, he can’t shake the question. “What else would we be?” He asks with a shrug, his voice more thoughtful than he intended to let on.

“I don’t know…” Geraldus is silent for a long moment more, resting his chin on the top of his crook. Sad hazel eyes glance from the napping flock to the world beyond, trying to find the words for the yearning in his heart. “I want to do something that means something. I want to help people.”

Olly tugs the blade too tight, it snaps and he discards it over his shoulder. He gives up his quest for the moment, rolling onto his rump. With his legs splayed in front of him, he leans back into the grass to rest on his elbows. “That’s dumb.” He decides aloud. “You’ve got all the time in the world to daydream, but you’re wasting it on wanting to help people?”

Geraldus bristles, raising his shoulders up to his ears. “I-I mean….if my dreams are so dumb, then what would you do?”

Olly looks up at the sky, considering the question. It hadn’t occurred to him that he could be anything other than what he was. His father had been a shepherd and his father before him too. In a few summers, his brothers would join him in the fields when they were tall enough. Life hadn’t given him the opportunity to think much past that.

Whisps of white clouds drift above, dancing lazily from shape to shape. Both boys watch them in silence, each dreaming of different meanings for their changing forms.

“I want to be filthy rich,” Olly says finally.

Geraldus whacks him in the leg with the butt of his crook.

“Hey!” Olly flails a fistful of grass up at him.

“A real answer.” He persists.

“Fine.” Olly relents. He lulls his head lazily to the side and gives a longing look to the horizon. It had always just been the horizon, the untouchable boundary to his small world on top of these soft rolling hills. Quietly, he speaks more to himself than the other boy, “I think I want to travel the world.”

Geraldus nods in silent agreement, the sentiment sounds nice to him too. Life here was peaceful, but it made him restless. Each day he spent more time trying to catch glimpses of what lay beyond the valley and less time watching after his woolen wards.

Olly plucks a new strand of grass and inspects it for a moment. Satisfied, he grabs his crook and stands up again. “I bet I can travel the whole world before you can save it all.” He boasts, his chin cocked up towards his friend. His warm eyes twinkle mischievously.

Geraldus shakes his head and answers him with only silence, not wanting to appease the younger boy.

“I bet you I can travel the whole world and become filthy rich before you can save it all.” Olly presses, emphasizing his point with the grass flopping in hand.

There was no harm in a dumb deal between friends, Geraldus finally decides and turns back to him. “Fine. I bet I can save the whole world before you travel it all.”

“...and become filthy rich.” Olly insists.

Geraldus sighs but he nods along, weary and bemused, “...and become filthy rich.”

“Deal’s on then.” Olly gives him a wide, confident smile as he loops his arm around his shepherd's hook. He then presses his thumbs together at peak and base with the blade of grass pulled taut and upright between them. With a deep breath, he blows into the hollow between his hands. A sharp THWEEW rings loudly through the open air then bounces and echoes back up in every direction from the surrounding hills.

All at once the sleeping dog shoots up, lets out a bellowing howl, and wakes the flock. With panicked bleats, the sheep stand as fast as their clumsy bodies will allow, stubby legs scrambling for purchase on the soft turf. Once upright, they scatter off across the hill in a frantic mass. The shaggy old dog bounds after them, confused and caterwauling at the unknown threat.

“Olly!” Geraldus hollers, a smile he can’t resist in his voice even as he jumps to action. Crook in hand, he chases after the sheep and dog, boots skidding over the spring-soft soil.

Olly snorts in laughter as he lets the grass fall from his hands and into the breeze. He quickly tucks his crook beneath his arm, snatches their discarded belongings, and rushes to chase after his friend and the chaos he made.

“Trot! Hold! Trot!” Both boys shout fruitlessly after the alarmed dog.

[rootlessinterloper]

On Rain

The rain here in Halifax is ambiguous. It doesn’t speak a word. Or perhaps it speaks many, but doesn’t mean a single one; it has no conviction. It’s not like that elsewhere. 

In Toronto, the summer thunderstorms call out and beckon. The sky opens up like a great chasm trying to swallow the city, asphalt and bike lanes and litter and all. A mesmerizing yawp compels you to sit on your porch and watch its spectacle, as the deluge silences the cicadas. You hear not only rainfall but the sound of the grass and weeds and the sewer drains and the cracks in the sidewalk giving collective thanks. Then, mere minutes later, just when you begin to realize that there is no more beautiful sight in the world, the rain departs as suddenly as it arrived. Satisfied with its little show, it smugly retreats into the sky, as if to tease itself like a burlesque. Oh rain, you think, you playful devil. She will always return tomorrow, or perhaps the day after that. 

In the American Midwest, where hot streams of air from the Gulf of Mexico do battle with cold ones from Canada in a grand display of preternatural combat, the rain speaks strongly too. Stop at once, it shouts, ending the battle at once with its intervention. The air goes completely still in what one imagines the first few microseconds after a vacuum bomb is detonated feel like. Then, the sky is cleaved open by lightning; Kansas City’s art deco skyline is electrified, the Liberty Memorial and Union Station and the T-Mobile Centre are flash-frozen in place, followed by the most tremendous cannonade of thunder which shakes the earth itself. The rain there is not coy, it does not merely coerce attention – it demands worship. There is faint archeological evidence that the Pawnee and Missouria peoples would have worshipped a sky deity; there is strong intuitive evidence that the Pawnee and Missouria peoples would have worshipped a sky deity. 

Rain is so strongly correlated with emotions of sadness. Some people say that rain is like the sky crying, or the earth, or God, or Mother Nature. I can recall a certain moment it rained, during one of my many childhood summers spent on the Dalmatian coast, likely in a little town outside of Rijeka or Zadar but possibly as far south as Šibenik. The details escape me, but I do remember the rain. It was dark, the whole town was sleeping, and we were walking up this great hill from the marina to our apartaman. Without warning – no apocalyptic crack in the sky or commanding anthem of thunder – it began to rain so hard that the hill soon became little more than a waterslide, with sheets of rain nearly up to our knees. It was the funniest thing that had ever happened to me. We could hardly walk five steps without keeling over from laughter, our clothes drenched and clinging to our skin and shoes overflowing with water. The rain wasn’t crying; it was laughing. It was laughing along with us in the funniest joke I’d ever been party to. The sky was laughing so hard it cried; I know I certainly was. 

When it rains, I like to listen to its voice. I like to look for answers. Here, it provides me none.  It sits silently on the windshields of the cars in the dealership across the street, drips aimlessly through the eavestroughs and overhangs, collects in sterile little pools beneath the trees. I catch myself wishing sometimes that rain meant sadness; that it was crying and washing away all the happiness from the sidewalks, but it cannot even amount to that, voiceless and idle as it is. I suspect that it is somehow made of a substance thinner and weaker than water, like some cheap chemical substitute, a flagrant impostor. Why won’t it speak to me? Why will it give me no answers? Even the ocean here provides no catharsis; its waves lap the shore listlessly and they bear no meaning.

[lavenderbang]

Are We Just Friends?

Best Friend! Kim Taeyoung x reader

Genre(s): Best Friend to lovers, non-idol au, fluff I guess??? some angst because I couldn’t resist, Maybe slightly suggestive if you squint, and mentions of some of the other members of cravity

Warning(s): swearing, weed use, but that’s about it

Summary: Your best friend invites you to hang out late at night; that’s expected, since you usually hang out at night, but what you didn’t you didn’t expect was him to tell you something that has been on his mind recently

A/N: I AM IN LOVE WITH KIM TAEYOUNG. Okay but actually, I just really wanted to write this because I’m a self-indulgent fic writer and I want to hang out with Youngtae so badly bruh... So I’m writing this now. I hope you enjoy :)

HE IS SO PRETTY !!!!

Dumbass: I’m outside loser :p

You quickly slipped your old fleece jacket on before stepping out into the crisp cool night. It was late; later than you would usually hang out.

But with Taeyoung’s busy work schedule, you were just glad you were able to go see him. His junky grey car sat idling beside the curb; you could always hear it before you could see it, probably due to the shitty transmission or problems with the wheel bearings that Taeyoung didn’t have the money to fix.

He worked at your town’s local grocery store, mostly stocking shelves. He said it was only until he could find something better, but three years later he still spends almost everyday arranging boxes in the back and accounting for the shipments. 

“Hey nerd, what’s the plan?” You said stepping into the car and closing the door behind you. He was wearing a simple black tee-shirt and a pair of baggy jeans. He also had the bracelet you gave him for his birthday wrapped around his wrist. It was a simple silver chain, but you had an almost identical one that you wore everyday.

“Wow, not even a ‘how are you’?” Taeyoung huffed, shaking his head playfully at you, “Straight to business I see...” You couldn’t help the smile the crept up onto you face as you rolled you eyes at him.

“Okay sorry,” You said sarcastically, going to buckle up your seat belt, “How are you?” “I’m good, thanks for asking.” Taeyoung said flatly, grinning softly at you before putting his hands on his steering wheel, “Is it okay if we go down to the river? Or is it too spooky for you this late?”

You lived in a small town out in the middle of nowhere; the population was low, mostly just families that had been there for generations and the occasional newcomer coming in for work. It was tucked up in the hills and surrounded by woods; It also bordered a river, which was a hot spot for people to visit in the summer to escape the blistering heat. Even though it wasn’t too hot now, it would still be nice to sit out there in the shroud of night and get a nice summer breeze off the edge of the water.

“That sounds fine dude,” You replied, tugging at the sleeves of your jacket, “But it wouldn’t be this late if you would have invited me out sooner.”

“Sorry, some of us have a job.” Taeyoung scoffed, putting his car in drive and pulling away from your house. Without looking away from the road, he tosses his phone into your lap, “You have to DJ because I have to make sure we don’t hit anything.”

“roger that.” You hummed, scrolling through Taeyoung’s Spotify to press shuffle on a playlist titled ‘The Jams’. The song didn’t really matter, since it was just background noise anyways.

“How was work today? You were there pretty late tonight huh?” You asked only for Taeyoung to groan dramatically.

“For some reason, Serim’s dad ordered a double shipment of a bunch of our items, so I had spent ages counting them out,” Taeyoung huffed, stopping at a red light and turning to you, “Why did he do that to me?! When Serim hooked me up with this shitty job at his dad’s grocery store, I thought it was supposed to be fun!”

Taeyoung started waving  his hands around as he ranted. You couldn’t help but grin; it was a habit he had that you noticed almost immediately after becoming friends. You think it must just be from him getting too worked up over stuff, because you also noticed he did it when he was excited as well.

“I thought I was supposed to be chill because Mr. Park has always been super chill when we go to their house to hang.” Taeyoung continued, “But nooo! When I work for him, he orders a double shipment out of the blue or asks me to count everything again ‘just to be sure’. I swear he purposely makes me stay longer at work.”

“Youngtae,” You hummed, pointing out the front window at the traffic lights, “Green.” Taeyoung let out a sigh before pressing on the gas.

“If you hate it so much, why do you stay working there?” You asked, rolling down the window to let the cool night air in. Taeyoung approaches the edge of town, turning down the dirt road that would lead you both to the river bank.

“I heard the gas station Minhee work at is looking for someone. You could ask him to help you out.” You suggested, earning a  “mmh-hmm” in response from Taeyoung.

“Maybe, but I’m pretty sure the owner hates me for shoplifting candies when we were in middle school.” He said sheepishly, cringing at the memory and pulling off the road; he drove through the long grass to the edge of the river before putting his car in park.

“Besides, I don’t want to be in this hellhole for much longer.” Taeyoung confessed, turning his car off and taking his seat belt off.

“No?” You replied, taking your seat belt off too, opting to lean the seat back a bit more before continuing in a teasing tone, “This place doesn’t tickle your fancy?”

“Not at all,” Taeyoung chuckled, pushing his dark hair out of his face, “You guys made being here manageable, but I can’t stand being here. I feel like I’m going to be stuck.”

“I get that,” You said, staring at your hands in your lap, “We all feel the same, I think...”

“Do you have your pen on you?” Taeyoung suddenly asked. You silently pulled it out of your pocket and handed it to him. He takes a hit of it before frowning.

“What flavour of cart is this? It tastes like ass.” Taeyoung complained, handing the dab pen back to you. You take a hit of it too, humming as you let the smoke fill your lungs.

“Its blackberry I think..?” You replied, bringing the pen up to your eyes to look at it. You shrug, taking another hit of it, “I wanted to try something new. Besides, it’ s not that bad.”

Taeyoung took it from your grasp before placing it between his lips. His eyebrows furrowed as he inhaled with a disgusted look on his face.

“Remind me to never buy blackberry.” He grumbled, giving it back to you as you giggled at him. The two of you sat in silence for a moment. You glanced at Taeyoung’s side profile, as he was seemingly staring out into nothingness.

“Did you hear Seongmin got into university?” Taeyoung broke the silence, and you nodded. He tapped his fingers on the steering wheel while thinking, before leaning back, “I’m happy for him. He moves into the city sometime at the end of august. He asked me and a few of the guys if we’ll drive him in and help him move stuff into the dorm.”

“That’s really wonderful for him,�� You said genuinely, eyes drifting away from Taeyoung to look out to where he was staring at. You could see the reflection of the water from the light of the moon, as it was pretty clear that night. You turned back to Taeyoung, trying to read his expression, “don’t you think its wonderful?”

“Yeah, of course.” Taeyoung said, smiling at you weakly before taking a deep breath, “Its just... I’ll miss him, y’know? I think it’s one of the big reason I haven’t left yet. I’d miss you guys too much...”

“Yeah, I understand what you mean.” You said, looking out your open window, “But I think it’ll be okay.”

Taeyoung looked at you, but you were leaned away from him against the window, closing your eyes just to bask in the night atmosphere. He could barely see you in this light, but your figure looked calm and relaxed in the light of the moon.

“You’re not worried about drifting apart?” Taeyoung asked, anxiety laced through his tone as he fidgeted in his seat. You glanced at him before sitting up in your seat.

“Not at all.” You said simply, smiling softly and brushing your hand through your hair, “I think if we all put in a effort to talk or text regularly, no distance could force our little group apart.”

You turn to face Taeyoung, who chewed his bottom lip nervously. His eyes shone like diamonds from the reflection of the sky, and you couldn’t help the grin that came across your face.

“It’s all about doing your part to nurture the relationship, y’know?” You concluded, taking your pen out and having one last hit of it before throwing it haphazardly in the cup holder.

“I guess you’re right... I’m just scared because it’ll be really different.” Taeyoung hummed. He picked at his nails, peeling the polish you did a week ago off them.

“Different doesn’t mean bad,” You replied, before smiling playfully and grabbing his hand to stop him from picking off the nail polish, “Hey, don’t pick off all my hard work!” Taeyoung chuckled at you, looking down at his fingernails and then back at you.

“Sorry.” He said and laced his fingers in between yours, “You’re right. everything will be okay. Besides, we will all move at some point, right?” You hummed in agreement, turning to look out the window again at the river.

Taeyoung’s hand was warm in yours; he felt clammy from the summer humidity, but it fit almost perfectly in yours. Like it was meant to belong there...

You sat in a comfortable silence for a few moments, nothing heard but the sound of crickets in the reeds by the river and the quiet melody of the song playing on Taeyoung’s phone. 

That’s how it was with Taeyoung, comfortable.

You and him had always been close, you’d even go as far as saying he was your best friend in your little group of friends. But more recently, you’d been feeling a bit awkward around Taeyoung after an incident that happened that planted this annoying thought in the back of your head...

~

Jungmo had a party about a month ago at his house; His parents were out of town that weekend, so of course all of your friends were invited, plus a few other people you graduated with. Well, of course that lead to a bunch more people showing up (people you didn’t really know), but nobody really minded at the end of the day, since the more the merrier for it.

You, Taeyoung and a few of your other friends were sitting out in the backyard, overall having a good time. There were a few other people around, but you didn’t really notice to much; you were absolutely high at the time, as was Taeyoung and the boys from your friend group which were sitting with you.

“No you’re not listening to me (Y/N)!” Woobin shouted, taking slow, long blinks while putting his hands up in defense, “You would need to go to the boat, Like they do in the movie.”

“no no! I’d just swim around until the flood ended,” You argued, crossing your arms, “Besides, they didn’t even get to the boat in the movie, they just stood up on a rock and the water went away.”

“But the water only went away because of that dumbass squirrel and it’s acorn!” Woobin said with a huff, “Besides, you’ll get tired after swimming for a while. The only way to survive is getting on the boat.”

“What are you two arguing over? I can hear you yelling from inside...” Allen said with a drunken giggle, closing the patio door behind him as he sat down and cracked open the can of beer in his hand.

“How we would survive if we were in Ice Age, The Meltdown.” Taeyoung explained, grinning as he tossed his dab pen to Allen, “Ruby insists you’d die without getting to the boat and (Y/N) thinks they could just swim around until the water went away.”

“You’re both wrong and stupid,” Wonjin said playfully, wagging his finger around the circle before tapping on his head, “I’d just climb up onto the ice wall honestly.” You all let out exclamations in protest, talking about the water coming from the ice wall and Allen let out a hearty laugh at your antics. 

“Youngtae,” You huffed in a whiny voice, leaning your head on his shoulder and sticking your lip out in a pout, “You think I could swim to survive, right?”

“If we are going based on the events of the movie,” Taeyoung hummed, tapping his chin clumsily while pretending to think, “I think you could swim for long enough to survive.”

“Ha!” You shouted, sticking your finger in Woobin’s face with a satisfied smile, “See? Youngtae agrees with me, which means I win!” You giggled happily and leaned more into Taeyoung, who slung his arm around your shoulder lazily.

“Whatever, I’m not listening to dumb and dumber.” Woobin said while rolling his eyes. You and Taeyoung immediately began bicker on who was dumb and who was dumber.

“I’m going in to get something to eat, anyone wanna come or need me to bring anything?” Woobin stood from his spot on the lawn and stretching his arms up over his head. Wonjin murmured something about chips while laying on his back and counting the blades of grass near his face. Allen shook his head no, before taking a sip of the drink he had in his hand.

“I wanna come! I have to pee anyways.” Taeyoung cheered, lifting you off of him to stand up. You grabbed onto Taeyoung’s arm and asked for a drink of water, to which Taeyoung acknowledged with a ‘roger that!’; then the two boys went inside, closing the patio door behind them leaving you with Wonjin and Allen and the few strangers from before. It was a girl you didn’t recognize accompanied by a guy you went to high school with, but didn’t really talk to, since he was a few grades above you.

“Hey guys, I think I took too much weed.” Wonjin said with a sigh, flicking the grass lazily, “My eyes feel like they are made of liquid and my body feels like it weighs a million pounds.”

“My mouth is just super dry...” You said, smacking your lips and touching your tongue with your index finger, “My thongue theels like thandpaper”

“You guys should have just had alcohol instead then,” Allen boasted, grabbing your arm to take your finger out of your mouth. He let out a little giggle, rubbing the back of his neck bashfully, “I mean, I had waaaaaayyy too much so I’m not any better off.”

“You probably came outside to make sure you didn’t puke on Jungmo’s carpet...” You hummed, earning a ‘bingo’ from Allen, who chuckled along with you before taking another swig from his beer and then setting the can down in the grass.

“You’ll be fine, Taeyoung is bringing you water for your precious tongue.” Wonjin said and sat up, pulling his phone out and turning it on only to put it back in his pocket. He then smiles gently to himself and snickering, “And Ruby is bringing me chips so I’ll be fine too, hehe....”

“You guys didn’t need anything, right?” Allen asked the strangers sitting off to the side. You turned to look at them and giving them both a polite smile, which they reciprocated.

“No we’re good.” The dude said simply, turning to the girl beside him and kissing her cheek with a grin. She leaned further into him as he pulled her closer, “Right baby?”

“Yeah, we are good.” She smiled at him before looking at you sweetly, “So, how long have you been dating?”

“....Huh?” You asked, furrowing your eyebrows at her, “Dating who?”

Just then, The patio door opened to reveal Woobin with a bag of tortilla chips and Taeyoung with two glasses of water in his hand.

“We have come bearing gifts!” Woobin cheered, throwing the bag of chips down onto the grass only for it to be snatched up quickly by Wonjin. Taeyoung gave you the glass gingerly, before sitting back down beside you with his own glass.

“What happened while we were gone?” Taeyoung asked, looking around at all the members in the little group.

“I was just asking your partner how long you two had been dating for?” The girl said, nodding her head towards you. You felt your eyes widen and your face heat up, as you quickly stared down at the grass. The girl turned to the boy beside her and placed a quick kiss on his lips, “Me and Christopher have been together for only a few months now, but it feel like its been forever. I was just wondering how long have you been dating for?”

“Me and (Y/N).... Uhhh...” Taeyoung mumbled, clearly taken aback by this girl’s question. He scooted a bit away from you, brushing his hair out of his face. The other boys looked between the two of you awkwardly, as you kept your eyes trained in your lap and the grass below.

“We aren’t a couple actually.... Just good friends, that’s all.” Taeyoung replied, embarrassment clear by the tone of his voice and the redness rising from his neck up to his ears. The girl had gone pale, letting out a quiet ‘oh’ before silence fell over the group.

“I’m sorry I assumed.” She apologized quickly, “You guys are just so touchy with each other and I saw the matching bracelets so I assumed. I’m really sorry.”

“It’s fine, you didn’t know.” Taeyoung laughed awkwardly, picking at his fingernails and looking anywhere but you beside him. You couldn’t bring yourself to look up at all. You felt your stomach sink and a horrible feeling of nausea washed over you as you tapped the edge of your water glass.

It went silent again, and you felt like everyone was holding their breath. You hated it. Were you and Taeyoung too clingy? Did people really think you guys were dating. There is no way you’d ever date Taeyoung, he’s your best friend! Why did you feel like your stomach was doing back flips and your face was on fire? You hated this whole situation; it was all too much for you right now.

You lazily checked your phone, pretending to look at the time before you downed your glass of water. You stood up, earning the attention of the rest of the group.

“Its pretty late and I had too much weed, so I’m going to go to bed.” You said with a weak smile, nodding to the couple of strangers, “Nice to meet you both.”

“Are you sure, (Y/N)?” Allen asked, standing up too. He gave you a subtle look of pity as you nodded, plastering a fake smile on your face. You felt like you were hyperventilating with all the eyes on you. It was all to much for you in this state.

“Good night boys.” You mumbled before retreating back inside, not sparing a glance at Taeyoung. Why did this situation make you so anxious. And why did this make you question your relationship with Taeyoung? Was your relationship perceived as more then friends by most people? Aren’t friends clingy anyways, or was it to a different degree you and Taeyoung? But most importantly, why did the idea of dating him not sound so bad to you when you really thought about it? You were going to be sick if you thought about it longer.

It was too much, so you pushed those thoughts as you retreated to Jungmo’s spare room and lock the door behind you, not to come out until the next morning, where nobody brought it up, not even Taeyoung. 

Even when you hung out with him a week later, and then last week too, Taeyoung didn’t mention the incident at all, but you both knew it caused a change in the comfortability of your relationship...

~

It felt strange to hold Taeyoung’s hand after the incident. You weren’t sure what happened after you went to bed, but you were feeling a sense a relief that he did hold your hand when he needed it. It was a sign that maybe your relationship could be going back to normal maybe? Taeyoung brushed his thumb subconsciously over the back of your hand. Now buried in the relief arose a strange feeling, the one where your stomach was doing flips and your started to feel a bit warmer and that little thought of dating him crawled its way out of the back of your brain.

“Your hand is super sweaty dude.” Taeyoung laughed, giving it a little squeeze. You let out a laugh too, releasing his hand and wiping yours on your pant leg.

“Sorry, I guess I’m a little hot right now.” You confessed, “I shouldn’t have worn this shitty jacket...”

“I love that jacket, even though it’s so old and shitty,” Taeyoung said playfully, leaning over to grab near the pocket and smiling when he felt the crispy outline of a burn hole, “I remember when we all went camping last summer and you got hit by a stray spark from the campfire and it burned this hole in it. I remember you standing up so fast and me and you patting it out before it could burn you.” He chuckled at the memory, looking up at your face as you felt around the burn hole too.

“That was fun, minus me almost getting lit on fire.” You said grinning at the fond memory before looking at Taeyoung in the eyes, “We should go camping again sometime. Although, preferably when it’s not so hot outside.”

“If you’re really that hot, we could go for a swim in the river?” Taeyoung suggested nonchalantly, the corners of his mouth curling up into a cat-like grin.

“I’d love to, but do I look like I’m wearing a swimsuit stupid?” You chuckled, gesturing to your body before laughing a bit at the idea.

“Not a problem!” Taeyoung hummed, before surprising you by suddenly tugging his shirt up and over his head. Your eyes went from his bare torso back up to his face with a look of shock.

“It’s nothing you haven’t seen before because being in your underwear is basically the same thing as being in a swimsuit,” Taeyoung deduced, opening his car door and starting to undo his belt. His torso seemed to glow in the moonlight from the sheen sweat from the summer heat; he must have been just as hot as you were, but somehow you started to feel it even worse now that Taeyoung was more exposed. You couldn’t take your eyes off him and you felt your heart squeeze a bit, which was increasingly concerning.

“You coming or..?” Taeyoung asked with a smile, leaning down to make eye contact with you. His hands dipped into the top of his jeans, however he did not pull them down yet. You realized he was waiting for you to agree before doing so, which made you feel much more comfortable.

You thought for a moment. You knew this wasn’t a good idea, as the little voice in your head that arose form the party was getting stronger and you could feel the rational part of your head be clouded over by not only your other thoughts, but also the haze of your weed kicking in. You chewed you lip nervously before smiling softly back at Taeyoung.

“Fine Youngtae. Fuck it. It’s too hot” You sighed, taking your jacket off before stepping out of the car too. You piled all your clothing (besides your undergarments) haphazardly on the passenger seat and placed your shoes on the car floor in front of the seat. Now that you were out of the car in nothing but your underwear, you felt the coolness of the night air. However, you still felt just as hot, if not worse. You couldn’t shake the nervous feeling in the pit of your stomach or the beating of your heart the felt like it was going a million miles an hour from adrenaline. 

Your nervousness must have showed, because you could hear a hearty laugh come from your best friend as he walked around to the front of the car.

“Relax a bit dude, it’s just me here.” He said, brushing his hair back once more. You refused to look anywhere south of his belly button, for your own sanity, but you did notice his boxers being a ugly plaid pattern from your peripheral. 

“If I would have known you’d be seeing my underwear, I’d have worn nicer ones...” You said, trying to sound as casual as possible, but inside your body was on fire. Your brain was shutting down and your body felt jittery and nervous.

“Don’t worry about that, you look fine.” Taeyoung complimented, making your stomach drop. Taeyoung walked past you, going down to the very edge and walking along it, calling after you. “Come on, slow poke! The shallow area should be around here..”

You shook your head, trying to get a hold of yourself; taking a deep breath and following Taeyoung to the shallow part where people usually swam during the day. He stepped off the bank and into the water, having it come up to his ankles when he let out a few curses and curled his fingers into fists at his side.

“Brrrr! Its freezing!” He cried out, wincing at you as you laughed at how cute he was, “I’m going to become a Young-sicle after this I’m sure...”

“I guess I’ll be a (Y/N)-sicle then,” You said, stepping in beside him and feeling a shiver immediately run up your legs from the cold water. Your eyes meet Taeyoung and you both burst out in laughter at the knowing look of biting cold that you both are experiencing.

Taeyoung begins to wade out a bit further, complaining the whole time when you get an evil idea. You follow him, water getting up to around your knees with your grin growing as you close the distance between the two of you, so that you are are now standing maybe a couple feet away from each other again.

“Hey Youngtae!” You called to him to get his attention. He turned to look at you and before he had time to react, you dig your hands into the ice cold water and splash him. He shrieked due to the surprise of water hitting his body and the cool temperature of it of his skin. You laughed at his reaction, quickly doing a few more splashes so he doesn’t have time to recover, getting water all the way up to near his face.

“Quit it! It’s freezing!” He places his hands out to try and block the water from hitting him. Your laughter quickly goes from joyous to scared as he starts wading over to you.

“No wait! I’m sorry!” You said through a fit of giggles, weakly splashing at him to try and keep him away, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry. Youngtae, don’t!”

“You should have thought about that before you splashed me, stupid.” He giggled back, grabbing onto your arm and pulling you towards him so he can wrap his arms around your frame. You let out a squeal as he lifted you a bit, dragging you into deeper water. 

“Youngtae, please don’t! I’m sorry.” You struggled against his iron grip, smacking his arms playfully, but you felt the chuckle leaving his chest as he held you still in the water.

“Sorry,” He hummed sarcastically, “Next time don’t start something you can’t finish.” 

With that, Taeyoung quickly lifted you off your feet and promptly dunked you in the water, almost crushing you by laying down over you, just to make sure you couldn’t avoid the icy plunge. You screamed from the cold, while Taeyoung sucked air through his teeth at the freezing water rushing over his back. He let you go and you quickly spun around to face him before smacking him on the shoulder.

“Kim Taeyoung I swear, you’re dead meat!” You scolded while giggling at him. His expression mirrored your own, with only a slight hint of pride residing in his features.

“Hey! You were the one who splashed me first!” Taeyoung laughed, leaning back to sit in the shallow water; he crossed his legs, letting the water comfortably wade just under his collar bones. You mumbled in agreement, letting your laughter die down before you sat beside him.

The cool water was frigid at first, but after a few seconds of getting used to it, it felt refreshing. You let out a sigh of relief, feeling the heat from earlier subside even a little bit as you closed your eyes. You and Taeyoung were silent, just listening to the sound of the running water and the faint tune of Taeyoung’s car radio fill the air.

That is, until you best friend broke the silence.

“Hey, uhm.” He mumbled, causing you to open your eyes and look at him; you almost wished you didn’t. He looked beautiful, hair slightly damp, tan skin shining, soft eyes trained on you with his bottom lip slightly tucked between his teeth.

“I’ve been meaning to talk to you about something.” Taeyoung continued, scooting closer to you, causing the water around the two of you to ripple; much like the butterflies that arrive in your stomach from the possibilities of this conversation.

“What is it?”

“Well, I..... uhm.”

“Youngtae.” You said flatly, expression softening as you reached out for his arm to place a comforting touch to it, “talk to me.” 

You could tell Taeyoung was anxious from the way his eyebrows furrowed and how his lips were pulled into a thin line. He had the same look before the talent show in middle school; It was the first time he performed in front of anyone and he was so nervous he almost threw up. But, just like now, you were there for him to make sure he was okay.

Like you’d always be.

He let out a sigh, before looking away from you, “I wanted to talk about what happened.. Y’know... at the party.”

It was your turn to be anxious now, body freezing up before you turned to look away too, focusing on the way the moon reflected off the dark water. Was this it? Did Taeyoung not want to be your friend anymore because of how you acted at the party? Did he think you were disgusted with the possibility of dating him? Would he be weirded out if he found out you felt quite the opposite?

“Look, I’m sorry.” He started out, struggling to find the words, “I know you were really uncomfortable and I.... I should have been more aware of how my behavior can be perceived by others. I know that we are just friends and I shouldn’t be so clingy...”

“Please don’t apologize! You didn’t do anything wrong.” You quickly countered, looking down at the way your body distorted through the water. You wanted nothing more than to drown yourself there.

You were the one who froze up and didn’t say a word. You were the one who left him alone to deal with the situation. You were the one who was slowly growing relationship-changing feelings... “It should be me who is apologizing.”

“For what?!” Taeyoung gasped, whipping his head to look at you.

“For making you think that I was upset with you! For leaving and making it awkward between us.”

“You weren’t upset?”

“No.” You huffed out, feeling your face heat up. You take your cold hands out of the water to pat your cheeks gently as you let out a sigh. Your mind felt cloudy and your heart beat went steady against your chest. You blamed the weed for allowing the truth to tumble out of your mouth, “I should apologize because I’m still making it awkward between us...”

“How so?” He mumbled, eyes burning holes into the side of your face as you looked out at the other shoreline. You heaved a heavy sigh, hanging you head before letting all the true thoughts and feelings you’ve been having spill out.

“Because I can’t stop thinking about how much I love you.” You confessed, words flowing from your lips much easier than you anticipated, “Not in a platonic, ‘we are best friends!’ way, but in a ‘I think about you all the time and want to wake up next to you everyday’ kind of way. I didn’t realize it until the party, but I am in love with you and I maybe always have been.”

The silence was deafening, with the only sound being the thumping of a nervous heart and the rushing of the cold water surrounding you. You drop you head, feeling the weight of what you just said.

Taeyoung was quiet beside you, seemingly from shock or being deep in thought.

You allowed the silence only for a moment before you turned to look at him. You couldn’t bear the uneasiness any longer.

“I’m so sorry.” You mumbled, your gaze catching his, “I know we are just frien-”

Taeyoung quickly cut you off by rushing forward, placing a hasty kiss on you lips. It was so quick, you weren’t even sure if it happened as you just stared at him, too stunned to speak.

He...

He kissed you?

“I’m sorry, I should have asked before I did that!” Taeyoung huffed out, running one of his wet hands through his hair as he smiled, mouth slightly agape. You noticed the redness creeping up his neck and cheeks.

“I... I’m just.” He stutters, brain seemingly short-circuited before he cleared his throat and took a deep breath to collect himself, “I just never thought you’d like me back.” “You... like me?” You asked, heart leaping into your throat.

“Well duh!” He giggled, “I mean, I thought I was pretty obvious about my feelings for you, but I just assumed you never saw me as anything more than a friend. And I’m more than happy to just be a part of your life.”

“Wow, I must’ve be blind...”

“No, just stupid.”

“Okay, that’s a bit uncalled for.”

“Sorry.” Taeyoung hummed, shifting to tuck his knees up against his chest as he wrapped his arms around them. He chewed his bottom lip nervously as his eyes darted down to the dark murky water, “So..?”

“So?”

“Now what?”

“What do you mean?”

“I don’t know!” Taeyoung huffed exasperated , throwing his hands in the air, causing the water around the two of you to ripple. “Are we still just friends or....” He let his voice trail on, giving you a hopeful look, “Does this change everything?”

“I mean,” You spoke softly, feeling the heat rise to your face. Why was it all of a sudden so hard to talk to Taeyoung? You felt like you were choking on the words as you cleared your throat and meekly whispered, “I wouldn’t mind a change...”

Taeyoung nodded, smile slowly spreading across his face as he registered what you said. He turned to you, scooting a bit closer so that your shoulders touched and your faces were a few inches apart.

“I think I’d like that too.” He whispered, voice just barely audible as his eyes wandered your facial features. Without another word more, you slowly leaned in, giving him plenty of time to move away before you placed you lips against his.

You were felling so many things at this moment; joy, excitement, nervousness. But above all else, you felt right.

Being here with Taeyoung, kissing him and letting yourself love him just felt right. Like it was all falling into place and meant to be. You thought about your future with your best friend and how that was all going to change; but you had hope that it would be for the better.

—————————

A/N: In my Taeyoung vibes and I just didn’t have a way to finish it so please forgive a rushed ending. I love this man SOOO much !! Believe it or not, he’s actually my main man in Cravity, even though I haven’t posted about him lol. Anyways, I hope you enjoyed!!!

[horsegirl]

On the idle hill of summer/Sleepy with the flow of streams/Far I hear the steady drummer/Drumming like a noise in dreams