#personally i think misty should stand up

[carnis-insanis]

was informed of the oil rain and I was reminded of a little something

[hariboz]

“forget? you?” — shb x gen!reader

a little something i wrote to get back into my writing flow!

ex!hanbin has been plaguing my mind for a while now. the type to make the heart wrenching decision to break up with you to follow his dreams in hopes of finding what he wanted in the spotlight, ready to sacrifice the comfort of your embrace to chase what he has been dreaming of for years.

“thank you for always being by my side, but i don’t know if i can be happy if i don’t try one last time. i don’t want to break your heart, angel, but will you let me go?”

and you did. of course you did, how could you not? you could always see the sparkle in his eyes when he showed you a new choreography he made, the longing in his gaze when watching others dance on the same stages he could only dream of being on. you knew he was happy with you, you knew he loved you. he was happy, loved and comfortable, yet unfulfilled. because while you would give him every single star in the night sky if you could, no amount of your love would sustain his desire to become the shiniest star of them all himself.

so you let him go, gave him your blessing and told him to better make it to the top so your love was not given up in vain.

you had never seen hanbin cry so much before.

“i promise, angel. i’ll carry you with me in my heart.”

and truth be told, ex!hanbin held his promise. he made it. a leader, a highly sought after visual, a mc, a vocalist.

he’s not your binnie anymore. he’s not the one waking up an hour before your alarm to make you breakfast anymore. he’s not picking you up from work with that sweet smile and a smoothie in his hand. he doesn’t try to teach you his choreos anymore. he doesn’t giggle at you while fixing your hair anymore.

on days where it’s especially hard you catch yourself wishing you had refused, had kept him close to you. had begged him to stay back, to not sacrifice all the serene happiness you shared; but then you snap back to reality, the realisation that these selfish thoughts keep crawling their way up making you feel guilty.

it’s a sick twist of fate, you think, when you happen to walk past a wall of support ads for him plastered along your way. you don’t know whether to laugh or cry; whether you should be elated he is receiving an amount of love you could never have given him or whether you should be hurt and bitter that all this meant more to him than you seemingly ever did.

it’s not fair to compare like that, you know that, but it’s not like he’s there to defend himself. he’s never there anymore.

in your inner frenzy, the internal fight between wanting to support the man you still love oh so deeply and the selfish wish to have kept him for yourself, you bump into someone, misty eyes barely focused enough to notice the person in front of you.

you look up briefly to apologise, wanting nothing more than to get away from this overstimulating throwback to your better times, only to realise that the devil — angel — himself is standing right there.

right there, in front of you. sung hanbin. your binnie.

you know it’s him immediately despite the mask he’s wearing. the all too familiar sparkle in his eyes and his pretty lashes that you know all too well blinking back at you in shock, his eyes desperately darting over your face in an attempt to drink in every little change and detail.

you’re just about to speak when he turns at the sound of his name, which is when you finally realise the crowd standing not too far away, observing him like hawks and pointing their phones at him.

right. he’s idol binnie now.

so you bow politely and leave, trying your best to manoeuvre through the crowd. your heart is beating in your ears, your thoughts all jumbled and confused. you haven’t seen him in so long. not in person, anyways, and now you’re running away? what else could you have done?

it’s like you’re on autopilot, not even noticing you’ve made your way back home until you’re stood in front of your apartment. it’s then when you’re about to unlock your door, planning to crawl into bed and never come back out, that your phone vibrates.

first once, then twice.

“i don’t know if you want to talk to me anymore, but i was happy to see you today. even if it was really short.”

“i miss you.”

“you didn’t forget?”

“forget? you?”

“i could never. i love you.”

��did you ever think about dating an idol?”

ex!hanbin who, i think, would give it all up to follow his dream only to realise every single version of his future had you in it. and now he’s here, trying to win you back, hoping it’s not too late. because ex!hanbin is not only a romantic, but also in love. deeply, unabashedly in love.

[jyoongim]

This isn't exactly a request but a thought that had been so heavy on my brain. Hellborn royalty reader x Alastor who's stronger than he is. I just can't stop thinking about it. Maybe even Goetia reader whew they are stronger and protect him from something and I just go FERAL at the thought.

Some background context:

The Ars Goetia are a royal dynasty of noble hellborn demons who serve as prophets, messengers, and observers of the mortal plane for the King of Hell. They are responsible for maintaining stability within the seven rings. They are highly knowledgeable in the heavens, society, and prophecies of all domains.

—————————————————————————————

The hotel was a wreck.

The Angels had made it their personal mission to eliminate those who resided in the hotel.

The Princess of Hell had acquired your assistance if things got shaky for them.

And OH things were shaking.

Alastor had took it upon himself to fight Adam, when you suggested you could of great help he turned you down. Stating that he would be able to handle the Angel himself.

But things were not looking good for the Radio Demon.

You admired the confidence he had, but the demon was in a sticky situation and you would be damned if anyone hurt YOUR demon.

You were fuming and it was showing.

You calmly walked through the fighting, every attack thrown your way didn’t even touch you as you quickly dispatched your attackers. 

You appeared in front of the injured deer in a cloud of smoke. 

“Hehe who the fuck are you?” Adam asked, but you ignored him as you checked on Alastor.

He was bleeding and weak, you placed your hands on his face, scowling softly “Oh Alastor my sweet. You did good my love but Ill take over from here” he tried to object, but with a wave of your hand, you dissolved him in mist to keep him safe.

You turned to Adam, who was smirking “Tch! You think you can take me? Ha! If your best couldn’t scratch me what thinks you can?”

You smiled, your body morphed into mist “who said he was our best?”

He attacked, swinging his axe and trying to bring it down on you. Your eyes glowed white and with a flick of the wrist he was frozen to the spot. You curled your fingers and watched as the Angel contorted in pain. You hissed “I am the judge and executioner and you, you arrogant pig have no authority here. Divine violence is my right for power belongs to those who take it.” At your words, the sky formed dark clouds and the realm shook.

Adam let out a scream as your magic crackled along his skin, searing pain riddling his body as you burned his wings and corrupted his every soul.

“YOU CANT DO THIS! I AM ADAM! THE FIRST MAN! YOU BITCH! NO NO NO NO!” Your mist enveloped his body and he slowly morphed to black as you took his life. You watched as his soul screeched and struggle. 

You pulled him towards him and smirked, sneering at him with sharp teeth

“Vengeance is mine sayeth the Lord” 

And with a soft blow from your lips, he dispersed. His soul crying as you sent him to Limbo.

Hell shook as your magic rocked the cosmos.

The remaining Angels let out a cry as they were struck with pain, felt in their soul.

You were sucking their power and in an attempt to save themselves they retreated back to Heaven.

You morphed back to normal and your misty shadows revealed Alastor to you.

You picked up the red demon and nudged him with your nose, he grumbled ”Y-You didn’t have to intervene. I had it under control”

You hummed, a soft smile on your face a his stubbornness “completely but I wasn’t going to stand around when you clearly needed my help.”

Your face dropped to a pout “don’t tell me that me being stronger hurts your pride? You should be honored. A woman willing to protect her love is a powerful thing to behold”

Alastor sighed, relaxing against you, feeling the exhaustion of the battle overtake him.

You cooed at him, pressing a kiss to his forehead, “Don’t worry I don’t think anything less of you. I think you’re the strongest man I’ve ever had the pleasure of meeting”

The Radio Demon might have been a prideful soul, but it was you who was the strongest.

And really…he was ok with that fact.

[earlysunshines]

i get misty the moment you’re near

kindergarden teacher!sana x fem!reader (remastered) ; part one ; fluff

summary: it’s normal to get all bittersweet watching the girl you’ve helped raise step into her first day of kindergarten, but is it normal to find her teacher so captivating at first sight? is it normal for her teacher to find you just as cute?

wc: 2.8k

warnings: none!

a/n: rewrite of the series that started it all :P, enjoy!!!

opening the door, you watch your little one unbuckle her seatbelt. the smile on her face is everything to you and more, shining even brighter than the sun even with that missing canine of hers.

she slips herself out of the car and onto the concrete of the parking lot, eager to get out there and into the world (it's a bittersweet moment, watching her grow up before your eyes, tumbling away from your grasp so soon at the ripe age of five). yet, her small gesture of grabbing your pointer and middle finger instead of holding your hand in the traditional way brings a smile to your face. it's a unique quirk of hers, a subtle reminder that she’s still your little girl no matter what.

as you and your niece hana make your way into her elementary school, she’s much better at navigating this foreign territory than you are, leading the way confidently and pulling you with every step. you follow closely behind, admiring her determination and poise, the smile on your face growing with each hall you pass. 

as you approach her classroom, you notice parents bidding their goodbyes and waving to their children inside the cheery, chat-filled room. it's a heartwarming scene, filled with families sending their little ones off to the place that’ll start it all.

when you look down at hana, it seems as if her excitement had been erased in a matter of seconds. she stands there, peering into the classroom door nervously, looking hesitant to even enter.

you crease your brows, looking at her with concern. “is everything okay?”

“y/n,” she begins, almost frowning. “what if no one wants to be my friend?” 

her words catch you off guard, and a look of surprise crosses your face. she avoids your gaze, her eyes fixated on her beige velcro sneakers. you squat down to her eye level, sensing her discomfort.

your features soften. “hana… why would you think that?”

“i don’t know… i’m just scared, i don’t want to be the only one alone.” she says, her frown deepening.

“hana, sweetheart,” you start, holding both her hands in between your palms. “trust me, at least one person will talk to you. even if it isn’t today, someone amazing like you will make a friend, i mean, who wouldn’t want to be your friend? i made a lot of friends when i was your age.” you pause, putting your hands on her shoulders as you make eye contact. 

she looks at you with a slight pout, your heart cracks a bit.

“you and i, we’re alike, your dad and grandma think so too.” you begin, hands moving over to fix the white shirt under her denim overalls. “and be glad that we’re alike.” a mischievous smirk tugs at your lips. “your dad isn’t as cool as me, as us – trust me. be glad you got some of your auntie’s genes, you’ll be the coolest in the room since you’re like me.”

“you sure?” 

“of course i am. one hundred percent, no questions asked.” you assure her, standing up. “now, come on, let’s go inside, your dad said your teacher was nice!” you beam, smiling at the little girl. “now , you lead me, to be honest i’m starting to get a little scared… i might get lost– i mean, this isn’t my classroom.”

hana’s worried expression is replaced by a grin after hearing your last remark, and then she teases you with that cheeky, high-pitched voice of hers, “you’re so silly y/n, you’re old and scared? i thought you said you were the coolest!” 

“hey! i am the coolest! and i'm not old! you should see your dad! so many wrinkles on his head when he snores…”

hana's laughter rings out, her newfound confidence sparked by the playful banter between the two of you. without hesitation, she seizes your hand and practically pulls you into the classroom, her excitement palpable as if she were alice venturing into wonderland.

(they grow up too fast)

as you step into the classroom, a pleasant aroma envelops you, carrying hints of vanilla intermingled with subtle undertones of peaches and pears. the scent isn’t overpowering, you think it’s perfect and adds to the ambiance of the slightly chaotic yet meticulously arranged classroom. in an oddly comforting way, it reminds you of the cozy atmosphere of the café where you work.

as you scan the classroom, you observe children engrossed in various activities—some coloring at their desks, others darting around with more energy than you have after four shots of espresso, and a few kids posing for pictures taken by their parents. 

hana excitedly tugs at your hand, leading you to the vibrant cubbies where students store their completed work and lunchboxes. with a proud grin, she points out the sticker adorning her cubby: a little shark sticker, hammerhead. the sight of the sticker brings a warm smile to your face, knowing how much hana and her dad adore these creatures.

"hana, sweetie, stand next to your cubby. i want to take a picture to show your dad," you suggest, gesturing towards the spot where you'd like her to pose. hana eagerly complies, flashing a wide smile that lights up her face and reveals her adorable gums. her infectious grin brings a smile to your own lips as you swiftly capture the moment with a quick snapshot. without hesitation, you send the picture to the group chat shared with your brother, mom, and dad before taking a little selfie with her yourself.

as you and hana make your way towards the area where the backpacks are hung, your gaze runs wanders around the room, taking in the environment. amidst the flurry of activity, your attention is drawn to a striking woman across the room, her warm smile immediately catching your attention. 

you watch as she interacts with another parent, her friendly demeanor evident as she crouches down to the level of a young boy, pointing to – which you assume – his seat before returning to her full height. a moment later, her eyes meet yours, catching you off guard.

she’s unreal, she’s so unbelievably beautiful.

her flowing dark brown hair cascades gracefully around her, framing her face elegantly. you're struck by the perfection of her nose, it’s perfect. its gentle angle and graceful slope draws your admiration and it surprises you how much you appreciate such a seemingly small detail, but there's an undeniable allure to it, how could a nose be so perfect? was it weird to think that? 

your gaze then drifts downward, drawn to her peach-colored lips, which appear soft and lush and  inviting, and wow, impossibly alluring; in fact, they look really kissable and–

you stop your thoughts there because this is a woman you’ve just seen for the first time, you shouldn’t be thinking this – you can’t be (one part of your brain is telling you to stop, the other continues to daydream in the back of your mind).

her outfit is almost as cute and pretty as she is. the beige cardigan and loose white skirt she has on compliment her slender figure beautifully, emanating effortless grace. the delicate silver necklace sitting on her fair skin catches your eye a little more than small bracelet adorning her wrist and the tiny gold earrings that glint softly in the light.

hana feels your hand loosen up around hers, and then she looks up at you to see you staring across the room at the familiar woman she had met a week ago, ears tinted a shade of light pink. feeling hana's gentle tug on your sleeve, you snap out of your trance and return your attention to her with a soft smile. 

“that’s my teacher, she’s really nice,” hana says, smiling, “last time, she gave me an extra sticker! dad says she reminds him of you.”

“me?”

“he says that she’s… warm like you? no, something about you and her having the same warmth or something,” hana explains, trying to recollect her memory. “i don’t know how people can be warm in the same way, i think dad is just saying things. that doesn’t make any sense, same warmth– oh! he also said the way she talks to me reminds him of you.” hana adds. 

without warning, your niece walks you over to the woman and she smiles at your niece. you try to regain your composure during those few steps taken.

“this is ms. minatozaki.” hana introduces her to you shyly, tugging at your hand. 

"hello, hana. it’s lovely to see you again." the woman greets, gently patting her head. her voice is sweet like honey, soft like a breeze, and the way she speaks is welcoming, easing you immediately. it even makes your cheeks warm up a bit.

her smile nearly knocks you off balance, as if you were a sturdy tree getting hit by a sudden gust of wind. the genuine joy reflected in the curve of her lips as she greeted your niece made your knees go weak. meeting her gaze, you find yourself captivated by her eyes—those big, beautiful, brown eyes. she's a few inches shorter, so her head tilts up ever so slightly, and you struggle to resist falling into another trance as you take in her alluring features up close.

you try to compose yourself as you put your hand out to greet the beautiful woman.

“hello ms, i’m y/n.”

with that voice, gosh, her wonderful voice, she responds, “it’s nice to meet you, y/n.” 

sana is stunned by the woman in front of her, taking a moment to take in your presence. your face is almost intimidating with its sharp features, but there’s those subtle similarities – dimples, faint beauty mark in the corner of your eyes, and akin smile – that you have with hana. she's trying not to swoon over you in the moment, especially since you're in the middle of introducing yourselves, and it would be a bit (very) unprofessional to do that in front of the kids’ mother.

her smaller hand fits perfectly in yours as she shakes it. the world seems to pause for a moment as you realize this beautiful woman is shaking your hand – yours. it feels like you're in a romance drama of some sort with everything seeming to slow down around you. she puts another hand on the outside of yours, welcoming you into her precious workplace with both hands.

hana looks between the two women, a small smile tugging at her lips. she senses the spark that forms from the small interaction, and observes how her aunt's usually stoic and confident facade disappears in that moment.

so much for having the “cool” genes, you seem like putty in hana’s eyes.

you notice that your hands are still connected, her soft skin still touching, ms. minatozaki is still holding your hand. 

in an attempt to hide your nerves, to conceal the fact that you’re still thinking of her smooth skin on yours – you pull away to run a hand through your hair.

(hana sees right through you.)

“well,” you begin, shifting your gaze to your niece as you squat down to meet her eye level. a loose strand of hair that escaped her braided locks is gently tucked behind her ear with your slender finger. placing a thumb on her cheek, you rub it lightly. "i'll let you be off on your own now. go have fun and be good, okay? i'll be here in the afternoon."

the corners of sana's lips curl upwards as she witnesses the tender interaction between you and hana, her smile growing wider at the evident care and love in your voice.

“okay!” hana gives you a toothy grin. you laugh out softly and give her an almost identical grin back, squishing one of her cheeks in between two knuckles. 

in your heart, a faint trace of worry lingers, subtly etching a furrow in your brow despite your smile. you genuinely hope for the best for your niece; she's your only niece, and your deepest desire is for her to simply be happy. 

“if ms. minatozaki says you were being good today, we can go to the cafe and i can make you your favorite hot chocolate, how about that? ms. dahyun also said she made a special croissant for you~”

“please! please! i’ll be good, i promise.” hana almost shouts, practically jumping up and down.

laughing at her enthusiasm, you then respond, “alright, be good to ms. minatozaki lovely, i’ll see you later.” 

the two of you exchange a nice, warm hug, your head burying in the small of her neck and staying there for a few seconds more. after you pull away, you push away her bangs and press one last kiss to her forehead, lingering for a little longer. 

“you’re growing up too fast for me, i don’t know how i’ll catch up.” you mutter under your breath, quiet enough for only you to hear.

you stand back up and watch the little girl run off on her own to an empty desk, so eager to get out there and pick up some coloring pages – she’s already aching to get to work.

“she’s very enthusiastic,” sana begins. you turn her head back to meet her gaze, humming in agreement. “she’s a wonderful little girl from what i’ve observed so far. she’s seriously adorable!” 

“yeah, she’s a curious little girl – very bright.” you agree, “i just hope she doesn’t too much trouble. she’s pretty shy with new people, but she’s very energetic when she warms up and, well- you know how kids are.”

ms. minatozaki giggles and the little scrunch of her nose catches you off guard, prompting a spontaneous laugh to escape your own lips. your neck tingles and there’s a flutter in your stomach, the moment overwhelms you, and you find yourself smiling and giggling along with her, your ears undoubtedly turning a shade of pink that you don't even bother to acknowledge in the moment. 

there’s really nothing else you can acknowledge other than the wonderful woman in front of you, all attention deserves to be on her, especially when she’s so lovely to the eyes and her voice is like a gentle melody with each word uttered.

“i’ll be going now ms-”

“it’s sana, you can call me sana.” she cuts you off, “i mean, you’re not my student.” she adds, giggling again.

"definitely not," you quip, savoring the opportunity to keep the banter light and the laughter flowing. the thought of stalling this moment, making her smile and witnessing the way her face lights up with each shared joke makes your heart warm. you want to joke and joke forever if it means hearing and seeing her like this.

sana watches you adjust your dark brown jacket, a little cue that you have to depart soon (much to her dismay).

a hue of pink dusts her cheeks as you flash that charming smile of yours, she probably won’t get over the sight or the feeling she gets when you do so – ever. 

you seem entirely unaware of the effect you have on her, she mentally punches herself for feeling a flutter in her chest over – who she assumes is – her student's mother. the young teacher wonders how she'll manage to get through the year if she finds herself encountering you more often.

“well,” you check your watch, “ i have to get going now. please let me know if anything happens with hana.”

sana nods. “of course, i’ll make sure hana has a great day.” 

as you and sana exchange sweet smiles once more, a familiar warmth spreads through the two of you as you say your last goodbyes.

before heading out the door, you wave to your niece again, both of you grinning sweetly at each other. you also sneak one last glance at your niece's beautiful teacher before you head out and navigate your way back to the car.

leaving the building, the sun seemed to shine a little brighter, and there was a new warmth in your chest knowing that hana is in the caring hands of such a beautiful, sweet, and charming teacher: ms. minatozaki.

as you get into the car, you lean back into the seat and sigh, closing your eyes like a stupid idiot in love (that’s what you are, honestly).

you were definitely going to convince your brother to let you take hana to school more often, and even pick her up regularly too. it works pretty well with your schedule anyway, considering how flexible it is.

and little did you know, sana would secretly hope to see you more often as well. the image of you, your captivating smile, and the memory of your sweet tone of voice would linger in her mind throughout the entire school day.

[thebowieconstricker]

Head Over Heels - Prolouge

(The Creature x Reader)

A Lisa Frankenstein (2024) fic

masterlist link

Alright, monster lovers, I’m gonna try something a little more ambitious: an actual fic. Constructive criticism welcome! Please be kind because I have no proof reader and I’m still learning how to write good stories lol. I’m also gonna be fleshing out some characters to better fit the narrative I have in mind for this story. I hope you enjoy the prologue!

Warnings: slight language, my best attempt at worldbuilding, and our gender neutral reader is an orphan, so discussion of that. Also, (N/N) stands for nickname!

~~~

1986, Brookview, Indiana

“Oh. My. GOODNESS, (Y/N)! You have to try a face mask! It’ll help you with those dark circles under your eyes!”

“But (Y/NNNN), pink is totally your color! Just give it a chance, your nails would look SO pretty!”

“You didn’t even jump! It’s like you’re built for these movies, (N/N)!”

Comments like these had already gotten old around- you checked your watch- two hours ago. You considered yourself a survivor of some ancient teenage girl ceremony. Saying polite “no thank you”s to Taffy and the rest of her much too perky friends was becoming quite the laborious task. Some may say you were being too stubborn, as they had treated you with nothing but kindness since you came to town, to which you’d argue that Tricia certainly seemed like she had a bone to pick with you. Along with her, you had unfortunately seen enough of the world to understand one of the most important rules of high school:

The popular girls were mean, and these girls were certainly popular.

You had no idea why Taffy had run up to you on your first day of school and excitedly introduced herself, her gaggle of friends confusedly following after her. You figured this was some kind of territorial power move, checking out the fresh meat before inevitably deciding to kill.

But then Taffy kept hanging out with you. And complementing you. And begging you to hang out with her group of gals.

You took it as some kind of elaborate bit, but hey, they were nice.

At least they didn’t look at you like you were a rotten corpse walking down the halls.

Your thoughts snapped back to your current situation at Taffy’s house. Her mother, Janet, had actually sneered at you when you walked in, but other than that, the night was shaping up to be your average “new girls first sleepover”. Grease had taught you well. That was, until the truth or dare game started.

Lori had brought it up, and it started pretty normal.

“Who’s your crush?”

“OMG, I’m not telling!”

“Come on, Misty! We won’t tell! Right, (Y/N)?”

“Uh, yeah. I mean, no.” You mentally cursed yourself.

This is how it continued for a while before you finally perked up.

“I dare you to go to the Bachelors Cemetary Grove.”

“WHAT??? No way, Tricia! There’s no way in hell-“

Your eyes widened in intrigue and you blurted out without thinking, “There’s a bachelors cemetery?”

The girls turned to look at you.

Tricia raised one of her perfect eyebrows.

“You haven’t heard about it? It’s like- uber haunted.”

That piqued your interest. Life in the foster care system had caused you to grow accustomed to the darker sides of life, and you had always had a special interest in the dead. Your own parents had died in a mysterious fire when you were just a baby, leaving you with no real memories of them. You believed that everyone deserved to be remembered, especially the average, unremarkable person.

(Mainly because you knew that’s how you would turn out, and you’d like to be remembered.)

Enough of that, though, because everyone is still looking at you, so you cleared your throat.

“Would I have to go tonight? Or like, right now?”

Tricia rolled her eyes. “I mean, I didn’t ask you-“

“Oh, shush, Tricia! She’s participating!” Taffy smiled widely at you.

Tricia shot you a look.

“Fine. Yes, tonight. And you’d have to bring back a vine to show that you actually went there. The place is full of them, so it should be easy for you.”

You detected a hint of challenge in Tricia’s tone, but ignored it. You wanted to do this to quench the thirst of curiosity that was bubbling in your brain. This seemed like the first interesting thing you had heard about in this boring town.

You stood.

“I’ll do it.”

Taffy cheered and Lori looked at you in amazement. Misty immediately began to try to talk you out of it, worrying about your safety, while Tricia went silent.

Your mind was set, though. Time to see what all the hooplah was about.

~~~

The walk to the gravesite had been much more peaceful than you thought it would be.

Taffy’s house was constant noise, light, color, total overstimulation. However, the cool mist that danced across your skin along with the eerie silence of the woods soothed you. It helped you clear your head.

After walking through the woods for what seemed like hours, you finally came across the old rusted iron gate that sadly displayed the text, “Bachelors Cemetery Grove”. You frowned, finding the disrepair of the cite pitiful. This place should be filled with respect, not to be forgotten by vines and leaves.

Speaking of, holy shit, Tricia was right about the vines everywhere.

Thick, bright green foliage covered every inch of the area, graves poking out here and there to display faded names. It was enchanting to see so much life growing in a place of death. You could have snapped off a vine and booked it out of there, but you were drawn to this cemetery. Careful steps led you deeper and deeper into its heart as you swerved this way and that to try and make out the occasional name.

Then, through a beam of moonlight that shone through a break in the trees, your eyes caught on a specific grave.

You walked closer and came face to face with the stoic expression of a handsome young man, carved in the same stone his grave was made of. He had a strong nose, with beautifully curved lips and hair that flipped upwards on the ends. He was looking slightly downwards, his eyebrows painfully curved upwards, as if to express a dramatic feeling of grief. Resting beside his bust was an arm and a hand, attached to nothing and slightly curled. He looked like a man that would recite beautiful poetry, professing his deepest desires and most intimate thoughts.

Your mouth was slightly agape as you admired him. Despite your more logical thoughts, you brought a hand up to gently caress his cheek, finding a raised texture chiseled there that suggested sideburns. A sigh escaped your lips as you realized the romantic-ness of it all. A man who seemed perfect, a lover, full of life and emotion, condemned to a permanent fixture in a buried world.

You could say it was love at first sight.

[acealonsowrites]

Subaru Mini Fic

My first official post on Tumblr AHH! So, true to my bio, I am a writer but I've never written fan fiction so please bear with me. I've been playing Tokyo Debunker for about a month or so now and I've had some headcanons and fic ideas just itching at my brain that I can no longer suppress. So I'll stop my yapping and let y'all get on to the story.

Pairing: MC/Reader x Subaru Kagami

Tags: SFW. Slight-ish(?) angst, misunderstanding, Subaru's all-around oblivious. Sorta mean Frostheim gen students. Ends in fluff.

Summary: When Subaru receives a confession letter asking him to meet up in person, all signs point to it being from you. Unsure of his feelings, Haku and Zenji encourage him to go for it, but will you be the one to show up at the Ethereal Spring?

It was another misty day in Hotarubi when you set foot into the all-too-familiar Japanese garden. The rain lightly dusted your face as you made your way to the front steps. You hadn't actually expected to visit Hotarubi today so your umbrella was still tucked away into some forgotten corner of your closet. Upon entering, you were met with a few lingering general students. They took the time to bow and greet you properly before going about their day, most likely on their way to their afternoon classes. You finally caught sight of the vice-captain, Haku, standing in the corridor right in front of what you had come to know as the reception room. His slitted eyes met yours, clearly as surprised to see you as you were to be there. He waved you over, opening the door to the reception room and waiting for you to walk in.

"Ah, MC. I didn't know you were coming over today. Is it another mission or did you just miss me?" He wordlessly handed you a towel, ushering you to sit down and dry yourself. His hands worked fast to prepare tea and sweets for the both of you. You ruffled through your bag, so focused on finding that envelope you missed Haku's question. "So, what brings you to Hotarubi, MC," he tried once more for your attention.

"Oh, sorry," you apologized as you finally felt your hands graze a papery texture far thicker than the other slips of discarded mission assignments and study guides that were scattered along your bag. "Mail delivery!"

Haku stared at the letter in your hands as he set two plates in front of you, one holding your tea and the other Haku's sweet pick of the day which happened to resemble the mochi he had served you on your first day at Hotarubi. "Seriously? They're really making you work hard, huh? I didn't realize that was part of your job as inspector."

"Neither did I," you said as an aside, "but this wasn't a Darkwick assignment. More like a general student pulled me aside to do this for her. I don't remember for sure but I think she was from Frostheim...," you trailed off as you took a bite of the mochi, a slight hint of caramel entering your mouth. "This is delicious, Haku, thank you! Anyways, where's Zenji and Subaru? I was sure my entrance would be accompanied by the sound of a biwa."

Haku leaned his chin on his hand, his elbow propped on the table in front of his own teacup. "Subaru should be somewhere around here, probably in his room, but I've already sent him a message on WickChat to let him know you're here. I'm sure he's rushing to come greet you as we speak. As for Zenji, I haven't seen him in about an hour but I remember him saying something about going to the lake for some inspiration. So, who's the letter for?" He pointed at the blank envelope, now resting near your hand. You paused, wracking your brain for a second.

"Oh! I was in such a rush to get here I forgot to address it. But, if I remember correctly, it's for Subaru."

Just then, Subaru opened the door to the reception room. Unlike your first time in Hotarubi, the captain was wearing his Darkwick uniform. You were pretty sure he must have had morning classes. "Oh good, MC, you're still here. I was afraid I'd miss you." You exchanged bows as he sat across from you next to Haku. After watching him politely accept Haku's offer for tea, you perked up and handed him the letter.

"Here you go, Subaru. This letter's for you."

"Thank you, MC. May I ask who it's from?"

At this, you froze. Your hands idly cradled your teacup before bringing it to your lips. "This is a bit embarrassing but I didn't actually get her name. In my defense, it didn't really seem like she wanted to tell me, but still, I have no excuse, I'm sorry." You bowed your head, feeling a small blush spreading through your cheeks. "I can at least tell you that it was a general student from Frostheim, though."

"Please, don't apologize. I'm sure I can figure out who it's from. Thank you for bringing it to me, MC." The actor's eyes flitted across your face, hesitating before his next words. "I really admire how hard you're working. Not just for Darkwick or us ghouls, but the general students too. I just hope you're taking care of yourself. You really shouldn't be coming to Hotarubi without an umbrella." He pointed to the towel around your neck. Your hair was still noticeably damp from the rain.

You smiled and stood up just as Haku returned with Subaru's tea. Haku gently took the towel from around your neck and started stroking your hair with it, his thumbs lightly massaging your temple. "There, see? She'll be fine." He smiled at his captain, who returned it with a shy gaze of his own, before turning to you. "But he is kinda right, you know? You've got to put yourself first sometimes."

"I know, Haku, thank you." You waited for him to finish rustling your hair until he took back the towel, resting it on his forearm. "I should really get going, though. Please tell Zenji I say hi." With that, you gathered your stuff and moved to leave.

"Wait, please, MC!" You looked back at Subaru as he was rushing to stand up. "Please take my umbrella."

"I appreciate the offer, Subaru, but then I'd have to bring two on my next visit." You rubbed your neck sheepishly, a small grin on your face as you assessed his worry.

"Then you can keep it! Really, I have too many. And I don't want you getting sick with the rain. Please." His velvety eyes stared into yours, a small plea hidden in them. Something inside you told you he wasn't going to take no for an answer.

"Very well, then. Thank you, Subaru. But I insist on bringing it back to you." He clearly noted your own stubbornness, humming in a hesitant understanding.

"By the way, I'm having lunch with Lyca tomorrow. Would you like to join us? We're planning to order at Sho's and eat at the terrace so you could meet us at the food truck. Or, sorry, of course you can get whatever you want if you feel like getting something at the campus store or the cafeteria and meet us at the terrace instead. Or would you prefer eating elsewhere?"

You decided to cut his rambling short, knowing that it would probably continue otherwise, and smiled at him. "Subaru, it's okay. I'd love to have lunch with you and Lyca. I'll meet you at Sho's."

The brunette gazed at you with wide eyes before smiling back at you, bowing his head. "Thank you." You weren't sure why he was thanking you. And to be completely honest, you didn't think he knew either. Nevertheless you accepted it with a nod and left.

"Well, that was something," Haku said as Subaru reclaimed his seat next to him. The actor sighed wistfully, taking a sip of his tea.

"I hope they get back okay."

Haku sized him up with a playful smirk. "You want to open that letter now? The suspense is killing me."

Subaru looked down to where the envelope sat at the table, taking it into his gloved hands. He carefully slid his thumb under the envelopes seal, opening it without a tear. He looked back up at his vice-captain through his lashes. "Are you just going to watch me read it?"

"Yep, pretty much."

With that, Subaru took the letter out, his eyes scanning the sheet and his cheeks burning more and more with every word he read. Haku assessed Subaru's reaction, the actor shrinking back ever-so-slightly with evident shyness. By the time he was done reading, Subaru was completely avoiding Haku's gaze, his hand coming up to cover his face.

"Oh? Now this is getting interesting. What was in that letter, Subaru?"

"Oh, heavens!" A voice came booming from behind Subaru. "Well, I do say love is in the air! Two hearts blossoming on the branch of destiny!"

Subaru looked over his shoulder just as Zenji had finished reading the letter. The taller man bolstered, prancing about with his hands to his chest.

"Ah, there you are Zenji," Haku said.

"My heart swells with the deepest joy for you, my friend. Now tell me, who is this person whom you've thoroughly ensnared with your charm."

"Well unless it says it in the actual letter, MC said they didn't get the girl's name." Haku took a sip of his tea, enjoying the scene before him as Zenji's eccentricity was beginning to overwhelm an embarrassed Subaru.

"Our dear honor student was here and nobody cared to tell me?! Oh-" Zenji paused in thought, uncharacteristically silent as the other two watched him intently. Suddenly, he raised his hands in the air, his tone impossibly more flowery than before. "I get it now! What better stroke of inspiration than two of your dearest friends falling in love! Subaru, you have my full support in this new courtship with our lovely MC!"

Subaru's cheeks, tinted a graceful pink, began to burn hotter at Zenji's implication. "Excuse me, Zenji, but what do you mean? MC just came to deliver it."

Haku let out a pensive hum. "You know, I didn't even think about that but..."

"Haku, you don't really think that this is from MC, do you?" The actor now cupped his face with both hands, this new possibility running through his mind.

"Would you mind if I read the letter?" With that, Subaru handed the paper over to his vice-captain. Haku skimmed it before looking back at the brunette assuredly. "Just as I thought, no name on the actual note." Subaru nodded as Haku stroked his chin in thought, his eyebrows scrunching above his slitted eyes. "And they want you to meet them tomorrow at the Ethereal Spring for a proper confession..."

"So, do you think it could be MC?" Subaru questioned.

"It's very likely. They could have made up a cover-up story about a general student. Maybe they were too shy to claim ownership over it in front of me. They clearly want to meet you alone tomorrow." Haku watched Subaru avert his eyes once more, a frown shining through a crack between his hands. "How would you feel if it was MC? Or I guess a better question would be: how do you feel about MC?"

The actor's eyes drooped, closing for a second before responding, "I...I don't know."

"Oh poor thing, they'll be heartbroken if you reject them. But I suppose it cannot be helped if you do not feel the same," Zenji spoke up once more.

"Reject?" Subaru looked to Zenji quizzically. That thought hadn't really reached the actor's mind yet as a possibility. Rejecting MC felt almost unthinkable. It left a sour taste in his mouth.

"Well," Haku started, "Zenji's right. If you don't feel the same about MC, you're gonna have to reject them. And I know you can be shy but don't even think about not showing up. I won't let you. Whatever you decide I'll support, but come what may, you'll be going to the Ethereal Spring tomorrow."

Uhhh...yeah that's a fic, I think? One that's definitely NOT proofread, at least. Decided to stop here but I already have what would be a part two in my head so let me know if a part two is wanted? Maybe? Okay bye, love you!

[bartysbunny]

It’s Not Your Fault

Pairing: Barty Crouch Jr. x Hufflepuff!reader

Summary: You come to Barty after having a nightmare and he tells you how he's feeling, which turns into you comforting him.

Warnings: Implied rape victim (reader), reader being a Hufflepuff is mentioned like once, family issues, no use of y/n, Bunny petname, I think that's it but let me know if I missed something!

Category: Fluff

Note: This is the first oneshot I've ever written so I'm sorry if it sucks. I hope you like it! Sorry it's so short!

Word Count: 548

“Darling…” 

“Please wake up…I’m scared…”

“Barty!” 

Barty sat up and looked around to discover who dared disturb his sleep. He went into panic mode when he saw you standing by his bedside, teary-eyed.

“Hey, hey, hey, what’s wrong?” he pulled you onto his bed, keeping some space in case you wanted it.

“I had a bad dream,” you sniffled, trying not to wake the other Ravenclaw boys. You looked down at your lap. It had been 5 months since it happened and you still woke up from nightmares almost every night. You wouldn’t usually bother Barty with it, but this nightmare had been particularly nasty.

“About what happened?” he tried to duck his head into your line of sight to get you to look at him. You nodded, trying to hold back the tears that threatened to spill over. You looked at him and started crying again. You felt horrible for waking him up, like a burden.

“Come here, Bunny,” he pulled you into his lap so you were straddling him. He brushed your hair out of your face and kissed your forehead. “I’m here. You’re safe. No one’s going to touch you.” You could tell something was bothering him. 

“What’s bothering you, baby?” you cupped his face, trying to take the attention off of you.

He chuckled, “You really are a Hufflepuff. Here you are, in distress, and you’re asking what’s bothering me.” You continued to stare at him, knowing he would crack. You were the only person he could be completely vulnerable around without feeling judged.

“Tell me, please,” you begged. You looked at the different parts of his face, you looked at where your fingers sat on his cheeks, where his hair fell on his forehead, his perfectly straight nose.

“Fine,” he gave in finally. He looked down before looking back at you, misty-eyed. “I constantly think about what I could’ve done if I’d been there. If I’d been able to intervene and keep that bastard’s hands off you. But I wasn’t. And I’ve failed you because of that, and it eats at me constantly.”

“Baby, it’s not your fault. There’s nothing you could’ve done. It happened over break while we were miles and miles apart. You shouldn’t blame yourself,” you wanted to cry again. You guessed he had some guilt, but you never expected it to be this severe. You hugged his head to your chest and breathed in the smell of his freshly washed hair. You kissed the top of his head and rubbed your thumb against his cheek.

“How did you coming to me for comfort turn into you comforting me?” he asked with a smile. You laughed lightly at the light-hearted joke. You stared into his eyes, not breaking eye contact for a moment.

“Because whether you think so or not, this has affected you too. And that’s completely valid. Your feelings are valid, Barty,” your last words had a double meaning, referring to the constant pressure from his father and the emotions that came along with that. “Now, it’s late, we should go back to sleep.”

Barty lifted the covers for you and you slid under them quickly. You pressed your face into his bare chest and squeezed his torso tightly. “I love you so much, Barty.”

“I love you too, Bunny.”

[palmviolet]

love listening to your playlists queen. top 3 rust songs and explanation why/how?👀👀

loooove this question thank you so much and sorry it's taken me so long to answer it. had to take like a month to think about it. so here we are:

star witness - neko case

neko case is probably my favourite artist right now, and as you may have seen i have a whole playlist of her songs that fit rust. but i'm going with star witness because a) it's my favourite and b) it's concerned with being a witness, an observer, a recorder of horror and atrocity. case is acting as a scribe but also a voyeur to a shooting she witnessed, reckoning with what it means to witness and record a tragedy, the importance of doing so, and the lines that blur between onlooker and participant, victim, survivor. she inhabits the voices of those involved in the crime. in the same way, rust, as a detective, is adamant he will not avert his eyes: he will stand as witness, he has to. but his whole role in the series blurs the line between cop and perpetrator, cop and victim, and victim and perpetrator — violence as a neverending swirl of shit that ruins everybody, himself included. in this way, paradoxically kind atrocities ('tender wolves'), institutional ignorance ('the papers said '75', 'no television crew'), and personal loss ('my true love drowned') are just perfect for rust.

lungs - townes van zandt

now maybe i'm cheating with this one, since it was featured in the actual show, but i have to include it. going for the live version because it feels even more fragile, raw. there's a lot of speculation about what inspired van zandt to write this one, including his history of psychiatric treatment such as insulin shock therapy, which can impact the lungs and has since been discredited. that in itself of course applies itself to rust's troubled relationship specifically with the psychiatric institution, and institutions more generally. but regardless of the song's origin, there's a bleak loneliness to it, a casting-off of the trappings of human society ('gather up the gold you've found/you fool, it's only moonlight') that accords with rust's nihilism — but also a reaching-out for connection ('won't you lend your lungs to me?') that, y'know, as a rustmarty i can't help but project upon as well.

the ideal husband - father john misty

big thank you to @television-bodies for introducing me to father john misty, lifechanging event. anyway this is my third pick and it's giving rust as he relates to claire, to laurie, even to maggie. the first line calls on the institution and its record of things — 'julian, he's gonna take my files' — particularly bad things, the only deeds rust believes himself capable of, he's a bad man keeping other bad men from the door. these files being the files that are still sealed from his time undercover. to me, we can read this song as a reconciliation of who he's believed to be as rust vs. who he is/was as crash — and his reckless, almost haughty condescension towards the women who want to date him/marry him/fix him. 'let's put a baby in the oven' — it's 'i don't want another kid', it's 'we should all stop reproducing', it's 'i feel responsible for killing my own kid' all at once, while also invoking the old saying, 'bun in the oven', as he twists and turns within the narratives other people apply to him, the narratives they use to make sense of their lives and his own.

there are so many more but lyrically it had to be these three. thank you for asking i had a blast answering this

[abiiors]

under the mistletoe 🎄// ross macdonald x reader (pt 2 of 2)

twelve days of christmas - day 3

a/n: best friends to lovers? no. it's idiots to lovers. this is also part 2 of secret santa cw: kissing, alcohol, very tame and cheesy. there might be typos... wc: 3k

a cheer cuts through the chatter in the room and ross finds himself standing under a mistletoe, liv first in his arms, then standing on her toes and then they’re kissing—sweet, long kisses that make him smile despite the butterflies in his stomach. 

butterflies that should have been a result of the kiss. instead, it feels more like a swarm of bees buzzing in his chest from anticipation. 

ross doesn’t expect to be this nervous. more than that, he doesn’t expect to pull away from the kiss before she does. even when liv looks at him with slight concern. 

he certainly doesn’t expect himself to be so hung up on secret santa. he has bought plenty of gifts for people he cares about before! good ones too; sure, he’s no pro at gift giving but he’s not entirely hopeless. but this time he simply cannot afford to mess up. not when it took him two turns to get the name he really wanted. 

everyone looks festive in some shade of red or green on white—and one silver but charli really pulls it off. liv has a beautiful green velvet dress on, her curly hair piled on top of her head and gold hoops dangling from her ears. liv looks stunning!

it’s her that really takes his breath away—the girl who’s been his best friend for over a decade now. the girl who now stares at him with a tight smile on her face, cheering almost on autopilot with the rest of his friends. she’s in a classic red slip dress and matching red lipstick that contrasts her skin so perfectly that ross almost feels guilty for staring at her longer than necessary. he’s right next to his girlfriend for fucks sake. he needs to focus!

the excitement in the room is off the charts! everyone’s buzzing to get to the main event—the secret santa gifts—and he feels a tiny pit of nervousness at the centre of all his enthusiasm. what if she doesn’t like his gift? what if it’s something she already has or something that’s too personal… too intimate. 

liv breaks his little spiral. 

“you alright?” she slides onto his lap with an easy smile and pecks him softly. 

“yeah, just excited about the gifts! i wonder who got my name.” even with her on his thigh ross can’t stop his knee from bouncing up and down. the weird mixture of anticipation and butterflies is something he’s rarely felt before—not since… well not since her last birthday when he’d gotten her two tickets to the play she’d been dying to go to. 

(if he’s being honest it was not since she’d asked him if he’d like to go with her.)

“me too!” liv beams and it’s as if that’s matty’s cue to announce that they can all finally, finally move to the living room.

the living room is adorned with twinkling lights and tinsel, creating a warm and cozy atmosphere. a decently sized pile of gifts sits under the pretty tree—the current object of everyone’s interest. his nervousness aside, ross feels as giddy as the others do, still like a child on christmas morning about to get the long anticipated pokemon card collection. 

matty gets to the pile and starts calling out names one after the other. 

ross is barely even listening—his mind races with a million different possibilities. what if it’s a shit gift? what if she doesn’t like it or has something similar or doesn’t get the significance of it?

what if she thinks he put no thought into it?

he’s barely even listening when polly coos over the “cutest jumper ever!” or when george cackles over his gag gift or when matty almost goes misty eyed over the vintage book. 

he only snaps out of it when matty calls out her name and envelopes her in a hug. 

“it’s perfect,” he sniffles and ross burns with envy.

not envious of matty. never envious of matty but… a tiny, irrational part of him wishes she were his secret santa instead. that she spent days thinking about him, obsessing over finding the perfect gift just like he had. 

that maybe she spent her nights in bed, wondering a thousand times over if her gift would make him smile (it would, ross thinks. she could get him a £10 bottle of wine and he would still cherish it dearly.)

“ross!” matty calls out and he startles a little. 

matty looks at him with a slightly puzzled expression and wiggles a neatly wrapped gift in front of him. it’s square and thin with a small note attached to it.

he recognises it instantly—a handwriting he’s only recently come to know as liv’s. 

liv. his girlfriend. his secret santa. 

and he’s an awful, awful boyfriend for the feeling of disappointment that rises in him.

his fingers move deftly, tearing apart the wrapping paper until the gift inside becomes visible. the first thing he registers is the word “untitled” printed front and centre in big bold letters. and below it: “divine connection: the last unreleased album”. it dawns on him slowly—the band, their band. the last album from their band. just his and hers. and on autopilot, his gaze snaps up to her.

“ross?”

for the second time that evening liv’s voice cuts through his spiral and he turns around to see her standing at the door to the balcony with a half-drunk champagne flute in her hands. she’s beautiful, he thinks. she’s always been stunning but his heart doesn’t skip a beat when he looks at her. 

“can we talk?” she walks in and stands next to him, shoulders brushing with his. it’s a cold night. it’s silly being outside but he’s in a weird mood. he even kinda prefers it here. 

“yeah of course,” he clears his throat and tries to appear casual. 

“did you like your gift?”

“i did. it was… it was perfect.” at least that much is true. at least that much he can say with 100% certainty. “thank you. really, i mean it.”

“i know you do.”

for a minute she doesn’t say anything but her eyes roam over his face—a scruitinising sort of a look that makes him want to shy away. she’s never been particularly intense but in the few weeks he’s known liv, she’s had a way of guessing his little tells. it takes everything in him to not look away. 

still, he closes his eyes for a minute. 

the scene is still so fresh in his mind—ross opening the gift and looking up. ross staring at her and not liv. ross murmuring “thank you. it’s perfect.” and smiling at her before he even remembered that the gift was supposed to be from liv. 

ross only looks at her, his best friend. and she can’t seem to meet his gaze. 

liv clears her throat and brings him back to the present. she takes another swig of her champagne and offers him the glass. ross studies her lipstick smudge on the rim and accepts the drink gratefully. 

“you’re in love with her, aren’t you?” 

a second sooner and he would have choked on the drink or done a spit-take like a fucking idiot but the question leaves him so speechless that he almost drops the glass. 

“who?”

“don’t play dumb now.” her tone’s a bit sharp but her words aren’t unkind and the thought of being scolded like that makes him blush slightly and straighten up. 

he’s about to speak when she continues. 

“i see how you look at her—how you looked at her when you opened the gift i gave you. you knew it wasn’t from me didn’t you?”

wordlessly, he nods his head. 

“you knew i didn’t think of it. you were right though. i didn’t. i went to her because she’s you best friend.”

“and she told you about the band?”

liv clicks her tongue. “she handed me the record. turns out she had you for secret santa before we picked the names again.”

“oh…”

there’s another beat of loaded silence in which he struggles to maintain eye contact with her and not feel like an utterly shit boyfriend. 

“liv i—”

“i know,” she smiles briefly. “but you can’t string me along, babe. look i like you a lot. i really do and i know… i know you told me you were trying to move on from someone but i assumed that was a past relationship. i didn’t realise you were talking about…your best friend.”

“i’m sorry,” he shakes his head. “i really am. i know that was shitty of me.”

“it was a little.”

none of them speak for a few minutes. ross looks at her champagne again, wishing he’d had a drink with him for this conversation. or maybe not—maybe a clearer head is what he needs. he is getting dumped, after all. 

and yet… there’s no sadness. just a faint sense of disappointment. 

“so this is it i guess?”

in one gulp liv finishes the rest of her champagne and nods. “yeah. this is it. for what it’s worth ross… i have no hard feelings.”

this time when she smiles at him, it’s open and sincere. much to his relief, it’s friendly. liv stands on her toes and presses a kiss to his cheek. it’s chaste and quick—a goodbye, one that he returns by hugging her tightly. 

liv pauses at the threshold just as she’s leaving. 

“why don’t you tell her?”

ross shakes his head in disappointment and feels the familiar ache settle bone deep. the night suddenly seems so much colder than before—no longer the cosy kind that makes you want to snuggle up with a loved one. this feels sharp and biting. 

“can’t,” he shrugs, “i don’t want to ruin years’ worth of friendship.”

he expects liv to understand that. it’s a perfectly normal sentiment—to love someone enough that you’d rather have some of them than none of them. but she just shakes her head at him. 

“wow…” liv sighs, “for a man so smart… you really are fucking dumb.”

and then she leaves him on the balcony, shivering and confused. 

by the time he gets inside, there’s a lull in the party. everyone’s either drunk or loved up or both. well, maybe not everyone. 

ross finds her huddled in front of the fireplace, absently staring at her wrist. at the pearl bracelet he got for her.

a near-perfect match to her beloved pearl necklace from her grandmother.

the fire casts a warm, golden glow on her—on her hair and the curve of her shoulder, the hollow of her throat, and down her chest. he stands transfixed at the threshold, waiting for something to happen. 

maybe matty (passed out on the sofa) will wake up if he moves or polly might need something from him or george and charli might see them and he loves his friends but they have barely any concept of personal space after all these years. maybe he could just do it tomorrow when he’s not half-drunk, half-sober, and fully freaking out. 

“ross?”

too late to hide now. 

“why are you stood there? come on! it’s so cold!” she opens up her blanket cocoon—an invitation for him to join. 

ross, startled by her voice, stumbles into the room. his cheeks flush with embarrassment and he clears his throat, trying to mask the awkwardness that has suddenly enveloped him. 

fuck! she’s pretty. and yes he thinks that every single time he looks at her but it’s moments like these that really hit him like a gut punch. 

liv’s words echo in his mind over and over again. for a man so smart… you really are fucking dumb. was she trying to say what he thinks she was? or is he just delusional and projecting his own feelings onto her. 

her body is soft and warm when ross settles next to her, pulling her into his side and tucking her head under his chin. 

“you were deep in thought.” ross teases a bit, not ready to broach anything serious just yet. what he really wants to ask is about the record—how she’d somehow known his perfect gift before he figured it out himself. 

“just thinking about how good i am at gift giving,” she teases back. “matty was ecstatic.”

she's right but he can’t help but find a different meaning in her words. 

“that you are,” ross murmurs in her hair, resisting the urge to press a little kiss there. it’s too much for him—this intimacy. something like that might just tip him over the edge. 

for a while she doesn’t say anything and ross wonders if she’s fallen asleep. it’s quite late and they’re quite cosy, it won’t be the first time she's fallen asleep on him. maybe, if she is asleep, he might even press that kiss onto her head after all. 

“liv’s not here?” her voice breaks his train of thought. it’s not teasing anymore—she sounds neutral and controlled and… and like she’s trying not to pry. 

“we broke up.”

“what?!”

she almost shrieks and matty stirs slightly but goes back to sleeping again. ross feels guilty for just dumping it on her without any context. 

“i’m so sorry,” she says before he has a chance to speak. “fuck, at a christmas party too! that sucks, love. are you alright?”

“it wasn’t like that. it was…” this is it, he thinks. his one chance to get it right. “i’m perfectly fine. i’m… i’m better than fine. it’s… well she–you… fuck okay!”

he cheeks grow warm. it’s worse now that she’s properly looking at his now, her face a mixture of concern and curiosity; that she’s now an attentive audience to his pathetic flustered words. 

“let me…” he takes a big deep breath and squares his shoulders. “okay. let me get this right. for the next, i don’t know, two minutes, you aren’t allowed to speak, okay? okay. so! liv and i talked.” the skepticism on her face grows and ross tries not to let it deter him. “the gift, the record—”

“was it not good?”

“oi! no speaking, remember? two minutes.” ross scolds lightly and almost laughs at her sheepish face. “as i was saying, the record. it wasn’t her idea, was it? i asked her how she knew and she told me you gave it to her. for me! why didn’t you… why didn’t you give it to me yourself?”

for all her talking a moment ago, now she seems speechless. so much so that she can barely meet his eyes. 

“it was a lovely gift, darling. maybe even one of the best and… i just want to know why, that’s all.”

her cheeks flush a subtle shade of pink, and she fidgets with the edge of the blanket. “i guess i wanted you to have something meaningful without making things awkward. i’d already bought the gift and i didn't want to complicate our friendship with something that felt so… personal, especially with liv being in the picture. and…fuck! if that’s what made you break up, i’m so sorry, i—"

“it didn’t,” he cuts her off firmly. ross can’t help but notice the small details of her face then—the tiny smudges of mascara from no doubt when she sleepily rubbed her eyes, the glitter on her eyelids reflecting the firelight. her big, beautiful eyes and dilated pupils. 

her slightly smudged lipstick…

fuck, it’s the tiny lipstick smudge on the corner of her lips that makes him lose his ability to think straight.

“we broke up because… well there’s someone else,” he speaks in a low volume. subconsciously, she leans forward. 

“someone else?”

the room falls into a heavy silence, broken only by the crackling fire. she waits, her eyes searching his face for any sign that he's joking or playing some elaborate prank. but the sincerity in his expression leaves no room for doubt.

“you’re my best friend,” he says, “and fuck, do i resent that! how am i… darling, how am i meant to pretend you’re just my friend when you’re the fucking focal point of my world?”

her breath catches so audibly that it’s almost a gasp. he waits for her to say something. anything. instead she leans in an presses her lips to his. 

it’s so unsure at first, almost like she freezes and her brain can’t figure out where to go next. the kiss lingers, soft and tentative—both testing the waters of something uncharted. ross's mind races, trying to process the warmth of her lips against his, the subtle taste of her lipstick. 

she pulls away before he’s even had the chance to kiss her back and hides her face in his chest. 

“oh god, that was too soon, wasn’t it! that was–you just broke up and i—”

“love, don't hide your face, don't…” his hands gently cup her flushed face, making her look up at him once again even when she can barely meet his eyes and in that moment he realises he’s never seen someone so beautiful. 

so this time when ross crashes his lips against hers, he makes sure to pull her closer. to hold onto her tightly. his arms are around her, her hands in his hair and oh she fits so perfectly in the crevices of his body. like a perfect puzzle piece. 

by the time they finally pull apart, slightly breathless and grinning uncontrollably, ross hears her giggle. 

“wow, that was my first kiss under a mistletoe…”

“we aren’t—”

“i know, but we’re next to one so it’s almost the same.”

he looks to where she’s pointing, to the little bunch tied above the fireplace. 

“we could do better, darling.”

“yeah?”

“mm-hmm,” he murmurs, stealing another quick kiss from her. “let me take you home.”

and she agrees in a heartbeat.

lemme know what you think <33

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[greentrickster]

For the Great God Airplane AU, was thinking about the first (mortal) person to find the God of the Ninth Road (formerly known as Shen Qingqiu), because thought exercises are fun, and here's what I came up with:

The first person to find the Ninth Road is a girl, just on the verge of becoming a woman, with blood on her shirt and a gash on her left cheek that's going to heal poorly, and which is the source of part of the blood.

Only part though, because the Mistress miscalculated with her. She'd been sloppy, smiled when the Mistress was looking, accidentally revealed that she's growing up pretty. And the Mistress can't stand girls who grow up pretty in her household, always makes sure those beautiful, sharp rings she always wears cut enough of the prettiness away that no one ever notices again. But the Mistress is growing old and misjudged her aim, cut her own knuckles on Fenhua's teeth.

And it wasn't her fault (it's never the fault of the girls), but Fenhua knew enough to know that the Mistress would make it her fault, so she did what she'd never dared to do before.

She ran.

She ran and she didn't stop, not for anything, not for anyone, she doesn't know how she made it through the house and the estate and the town without being grabbed, it's all a blur, but she did. She did, because anywhere was better than there, and now she's in the mountains, far and high enough up that she can see the town below her in the distance from where she stands at the road's fork. It's cool and misty for this time of year, and it's growing dark. Her cheek is on fire, her feet are blistered, she doesn't know what she's going to do next.

Or, she knows what she should do next, but... she can't.

She should go back, because she's seen open wounds like hers go bad, she's seen what happens, but she can't- she can't go back, she can't she can't she can't, please, someone, anyone, help her, help her escape, she can't go back-

And almost without thinking, she turns her back on the town, approaches the fork in the road, and takes the branching path, the one further into the mountains, further away from town.

There is a man standing there.

He is tall, with fine silk robes of white and grey that almost trail into the mist at their edges, with ink black hair and eyes green as the envy in his heart for all those born to better lives than him. She's never seen anything so beautiful, so dangerous, and she stops well out of arm's reach (as if that would stop him, cultivator or ghost or spirit that he probably is)-

...she gets the feeling he approves of her caution. Caution that somehow doesn't stop her reaching back when he offers her his hand. Because he is great and he is terrible and she knows, knows, in the marrow of her bones that he will not hurt her.

So she ignores the warning signs, and she takes his hand. Follows as he leads her further down the road, deeper into the misty darkness of the bamboo on the mountain, away from everything she's ever been or known.

"Who are you?" she asks eventually.

"A little late to be asking."

"Late is better than never."

He makes an inelegant sound, like she's been amusing and it annoys him. "I am the God of the Ninth Road."

"...I've never heard of you."

"I'm new," he sniffs.

It occurs to her, then, that while talking feels different than it ever has before, and while itchy, her face is no longer on fire. Her free hand discovers dried blood and a thick scar when it quests up, and the God of the Ninth Road suddenly seems to be actively not looking at her, instead of merely looking to the path ahead.

"I'm no doctor. If you had wanted it pretty, you should have called a healing god instead."

His curt tone annoys her, enough that she stops walking to glare. "I didn't call any gods."

Instead of continuing and dragging her with him (as she had half thought he would, as any other she has ever seen dressed as finely as him would have), he stops and turns to look at her. "You called me when you stepped onto the ninth road, begging for someone to take you away." he starts walking again, and she goes with him, "So here I am, taking you away."

"Oh." they continue in their former silence. Her feet don't hurt anymore, and somewhere along the way the mist in the bamboo turned to sunlight, and the god's silks from tatter-coloured grey-white to pale green accented with gold. It occurs to her that, wherever they are going, they're probably getting close, and there are things she still has to say before they do. "Thank-you."

"For what?"

"Healing my face."

He's purposefully not looking at her again. "Why? It's ugly."

"Ugly's better than bleeding, or rotting."

"Hmph."

"And thank-you for taking me away."

This time he's the one to stop, brows furrowed. "You don't even know where I'm taking you. It could be someplace worse, you weren't specific in your prayers."

"It could..." she replies slowly, tasting the words as she says them, "But... I don't think it will be. I don't think you'll take me to someone like the Mistress, because," and the curl of his lip at mention of the woman who scarred her gives her the certainty to finish, "Because you hate them. You hate people like her."

"...more than you will ever know." he admits after a moment's silence. Then, as they begin to walk again, "You should have been given 'min' [敏] instead of 'fen' [芬]."

The bamboo ends before she can reply. They're in the mouth of an alleyway, facing a laundry house, and the God of the Ninth Road turns to her with great seriousness.

"Before the end of the next sichen, a man will come out of that building. If you want a better life, offer your services to him and work hard. In three days, you will be given a stained robe of red silk to wash with a torn seam. Clean the stain then, when everyone is sleeping that night, get up and mend the tear. When the owner asks who did it, confess."

He lets go of her hand before she can respond, and she is alone in the alleyway, dressed as a relatively respectable street girl rather than in her maid's uniform. The God of the Ninth Road has taken his leave of her.

When a man emerges from the laundry house, cursing all the gods in the heavens for leaving him short-handed on such a busy day, she steps forward and offers to wash in exchange for food and a place to sleep that night. The laundry man is apparently too desperate to question his luck, and in three days, she washes and then mends a red silk robe as the god had instructed. And when the robe's owner bursts into the laundry, face as red as his robe, demanding to know who dared to ply their needle to his clothes, she dries her hands on her thighs and stands. "This one did."

He scowls, squinting at her. "And who are you?"

"This one is known as Minhua." Maybe it's a strange name, but she'd rather be a clever flower than a fragrant one anyway.

"Minhua, eh? You're wasted here. Come work for me instead."

The man is Master Zhang, the finest tailor in the city, and she has impressed him with her stitching.

In ten years' time, as a creator-god is being cried on by one of his Heavenly Officials, Minhua will have become Master Zhang's top apprentice. By the time twenty have passed, she will be a master in her own right, able to choose her own clients. The first coin she receives for her work goes to incense, offered in thanks to the God of the Ninth Road, and hers is the first story in his tale.

The first, but oh, dear listener, far, far from the last...

[mockerycrow]

I SEE YOU EVERYWHERE (Soap x GN!Reader)

soap masterlist

a/n: i wrote this after listening to this song. not proofread LOL enjoy. 984 words! also i’m sorry about how i’m basically non existent. i’m trying, y’all </3

[WARNINGS: MWIII spoilers, major character death, grief, mentions of catholicism. pure angst, hurt/little comfort.]

Sixty-seven days ago. Two months it’s been, approximately nine whole weeks. Estimating around ninety-five thousand minutes and over five million seconds. 

It’s been sixty-seven days since.. You know. You always wake up feeling like it happened sixty-seven seconds ago instead. Your eyes flutter open and you take a breath, inhaling a certain kind of heavy and thick into your lungs. Your chest expands uncomfortably in the morning, your ribs squeezing your lungs a bit tighter than before. Accompanied with the tightness of your chest is this tingling feeling, so slight it’s almost like background noise, just like how the past few weeks have felt. They’ve flown by in a flash, but at the same time, are oh so slow. 

Sometimes, you wake up expecting to see him standing over your sleeping form to wake you up after staying up a tad bit too late because he insisted you do so. So he wasn’t lonely because ‘The LT denied me’, in his words. Sometimes, your eyes are sick and twisted towards you. Your eyes are faster than your brain and you see him. You see his shadow so thick you’re convinced until you reach upwards, your fingers pushing through the dark smoke that enters your lungs after you’ve blinked. 

You’re sure the others have noticed the toll it’s taken, despite your efforts to hide. You know they’re hurting in their ways, too. Being in a tightly packed task force like this, you’re bound to know each other's tells. Part of you wonders who is hurting the most. Is it Gaz? The man who’s been the most logical out of all five four of you. Is it Ghost? The enigma of your group? He’s always been quiet, hard to read. Harder since.. Everything. Maybe it’s Price. He’s the one who actually saw, really. The one who watched him…

…

You feel something in your throat bubble, so you push the thought away. 

Then you come back to it. Maybe it’s you who’s hurting most, being his lover. The person he insisted that was his other half he had been looking for. Maybe that’s you being hopeful and cheesy; maybe it’s you being selfish. You aren’t sure. Honestly, you aren’t sure what you should be feeling, nor are you sure how your teammates should be reacting. There’s five stages of grief and everyone’s path looks different. 

Denial – you aren’t sure who you think denial is at first. Symptoms are fear, avoidance. What happened, you can’t avoid it. Not really when he was so integral to the team. Is. He never stopped being. After a few days of people watching, you’ve decided it’s you. You wanted to put it onto someone else at first, maybe Gaz—perhaps Ghost. They’re still.. Living. Going through the motions, at least. But you had to look at yourself late at night, around two forty-five am to ask, “are they the one’s waking up thinking he’s standing over them?”

No. They are not. It’s you. Of course it’s you.

Next—anger. You debated this one, of course it was tied between Ghost and Price but after Shepherd died, of course the Captain took that title with no question. There is a major difference between peaking into the gym, watching Ghost gasp for air after a night full of boxing and then hearing through Laswell the General has been killed. Major difference, indeed. It’s not often your Captain loses his cool and when he does, it’s for good reason. He deserved it, you only wish Price was more cruel.

Bargaining? It’s a no brainer, you decided as soon as you thought of it. Gaz. None of the men cry much, but it wasn’t a surprise when you found Gaz sitting on the steps outside of the temporary base, smoking a cigarette with misty eyes paired with a lost look. A look where he wasn’t completely there; lost somewhere, maybe in thought, maybe back in that moment. In the moment where he had to ignore his mutilated body to focus on the bomb. On the fact that Makarov was getting away. He lit a second cigarette.

Maybe it doesn’t quite fit him, but Ghost was the last one to decide for. Depression is what you ended up assigning him. There’s not many words for how you could describe him. Ghost’s been flighty, quiet yet hostile. He never means to snap at any of you of course, you all know it. You can tell from the heavy, long look he gives you after snarling at you like a cornered dog. He’s just sad and scared, something you can understand on a deeper level. With him, it feels like beckoning a wolf with bits of meat—a wolf who isn’t afraid to bare his teeth. You’re willing to get bit.

Then… what’s left?

Oh, yeah. 

Acceptance. Left for the one who is forever missing.

In a way, it feels wrong. You know he’ll never be able to move on like the rest of the world can. It feels even worse when you realize only a select amount of people will know about his death—the world won’t know who he is. Work in the dark to serve the light, hm? What a fucked world. After spreading his ashes across the hills, it feels like he’s become one with the Earth. Maybe that’s his form of acceptance; going back to what housed him. The green roots and blue skies. The rain that pours down over the ruined cities you’re crawling through, the beautiful stars and planets above you during a late night in God knows where. You see him everywhere.

You hope God is taking care of him, as you rub your fingers over his cross necklace. The last thing you have left of him; his dog tags sitting in a memorial on base. You may or may not believe, but Johnny sure did. And you know, somewhere deep down, he’s alright.

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[friendlyneighborhoodsynthezoid]

Pirate Batch- Echo- Part 4

(I should have edited this. Or proofread it. Or something. I didn't. Enjoy!)

Echo and the Bad Batch were dropped off by the quietest dock they could find around twilight. Phee reassured them that she’d be back to collect them in twenty-four hours.

“Or when I see something go boom,” she added to Echo before they parted ways, “so just survive until then, got it?” she slapped him cheerfully on the shoulder, but Echo was too distracted to answer her. Rex was here somewhere. Somewhere on this island where he once laughed and shared drinks and got into trouble, safe in the knowledge that he had his brothers around him. But there was no such levity anymore, and his new companions were wound tighter than if they were marching into an active battlefield.

The crew of the Havoc Marauder were kitted out well. Hunter sported his hat and oversized jacket, but concealed about his person was a pistol and a truly vicious-looking hunting knife that Echo wasn’t even going to bother asking the origin of. Wrecker was sporting a large overcoat, which he had complained about nonstop ever since Hunter had slapped it into his arms. “This is a stealth op, Wrecker,” Hunter had scolded, “and you’d stand out even if you weren’t carrying a blunderbuss under each arm. Now leave the guns or put on your damn jacket.”

Tech was dapper as always, but even he had a pistol strapped to his hip and he had a selection of suspicious-looking flasks tucked into a satchel at his side. Echo was certain by this point that anything Tech had a hand in was likely to kill, incapacitate, or just explode. The little nerd had a passion for dangerous technologies so clear that even Echo had picked up on it from their relatively few interactions.

Aaand then there was Crosshair. Echo was getting tired of the stalking aaray-shebs and his death glares, but he just had to take Hunter’s word and hope that the sniper didn’t actively wish him harm. He wouldn’t put much past him just now though, as the sheer number of pistols, daggers, blades and similarly deadly objects made it very clear that he was expecting to spill some blood. Hell, Hunter had to physically drag his rifle away from him spouting stealth and secrecy over the hissing protests of the irate sniper. Wrecker laughed at him the whole while, gleefully mocking Crosshair on his attachment to the     -apparently- precious rifle.

As for Echo himself, there wasn’t much he could wield with only one good hand, but Hunter gave him a spare blade and Tech ominously promised that they’d “work on it.” Hunter gifted him an overcoat and a hood to disguise his metal appendages, but there wasn’t much any of them could do about his hand-

“Yet,” Tech added.

Regardless, they were as prepared as they were going to get, and it hurt to think of a jaunt into Coruscant as worthy of such precautions.

Different times, he supposed.

Just another thing he badly needed to talk to Rex about.

They strode together into the streets of Lower Coruscant, where even at the late hour crowds of people hurried every which way. The misty streets were bustling, as were the various dockside bars and inns. Hunter gave them a nod and they parted ways, dissipating into the crowds. Echo didn’t love this part of the plan, but he knew that they had a better chance of tracking down Rex if they split up, and it wasn’t as if he needed a babysitter just to walk down the street…

He couldn’t see the others anymore. The crowd swept him along in a great, flooding, whirling maelstrom of bodies and noise and he could breathe, couldn’t concentrate-

No people for so long. No sounds but his own screaming. No input but pain. Now there’s too much toomuchtoomuch-

Something knocked him to the ground and his head knocked against the cobblestone street. Around him people continued to rush by in currents, unheeding, unnoticing, until something snatched him up. He struggled against the hand on the back of his coat, dragging him into an alley and forcing him down to slump against a wall. Echo drew his knife. but was too disoriented to defend himself- oh, stars-

“Breathe, Tinman,” a harsh, familiar voice rasped in his ear.

Crosshair?!

Echo gasped a breath, conscious enough to slow his breathing too something less close to hyperventilating. He raised his eyes and, true enough, he was caught in the cold grip of the Havoc Marauder’s most unsettling crew member. He felt his insides shrivel a bit as he met that steely gaze, but Crosshair did not let him look away. One bony hand caught his wrist and stayed the knife in Echo’s trembling grip. When he tried to avert his eyes, the other grabbed him by the shoulder and shook. It wasn’t a gentle shake, but it wasn’t exactly rage in the sniper’s voice when he spoke: “No, stop it. Look at me.”

Echo couldn’t find it in himself to refuse, and he once again dragged his vision back into focus. Crosshair’s sharp eyes looked furious, but also- concerned? Was that possible? Was Echo so pitiable that even Crosshair was worried about him?? He didn’t like the thought, so he shook his wrist free of his hold and- hoping he wasn’t about to get stabbed- forced iron into his voice. “I’m fine. What are you doing here anyway. Weren’t we supposed to split up?”

Surprisingly, Crosshair backed off. He leaned against the wall above Echo’s still huddled form- not quite hanging back, but not crowding him either. He didn’t look at Echo as he replied, “Yeah, well. Don’t trust you, do I? Could get up to anything, maybe go call the Corries on us.” His lip curled into a half-hearted sneer. “Better I keep an eye on you, don’t you think?”

Echo hauled himself to his feet, mouth running on automatic as he tried to regain his balance. “Careful, mate,” he said, “I might almost think you’re worried about me.” As his brain caught up with him, Echo briefly wondered if he had a death wish.

Well, actually, he didn’t want to know the answer to that, but the fact remained. Don’t poke the angry sniper.

But once again he was surprised. Instead of tearing his eyeballs out, Crosshair just scoffed and shouldered past him into the street. “C’mon then. If you want this grand reunion of yours, there’s no sense hanging around here.” With that, he was off.

Watching Crosshair move through the busy streets was fascinating. For someone who struck Echo as allergic to all humanity, he slipped through the throngs of people as easily as an eel through still water. Echo was having difficulty keeping up with him, which was not aided by having no idea where they were even going. All he could do was keep his eyes on the sniper’s back and hope they would be arriving soon. As unnerving as he was, Echo was glad to have Crosshair as a guide. He tuned out the hustle and bustle of the street and simply moved one mechanical step at a time for what felt like ages.

Eventually- maybe minutes later, maybe an eternity- Crosshair halted his progress and pulled Echo into the shelter of a doorway. The doorframe was hanging empty in a wall that looked one strong storm away from collapsing. The cracked surfaces were cast in shadows even darker than the night around them. It was as inhospitable a place as could be found in the heart of a city; a house that had been abandoned and left to fall apart under its own weight. Such houses were overlooked by the general populace, but Echo knew they always had stories and secrets to tell. Why were they stopping here?

Crosshair tapped him on the shoulder and ducked into the house. Echo followed, mindful of the unstable construction waiting above his head. He couldn’t see well in the dark interior and he turned to find his companion again. It took some searching. Crosshair vanished seamlessly into the shadowy environment and for a moment Echo feared the man had simply left him. He was just beginning to panic when he caught a glimpse of silver curls and- glowing eyes? Crosshair’s eyes were faintly glowing in the darkness, and he was moving around as if he could see perfectly well.

Weird.

Are they sure he’s not just a mean, mutant tooka?

The thought amused him enough to snort faintly, which drew the glowing eyes to him.

“Something funny, Tinman?”

“Oh, nothing,” Echo said, “just a passing thought. Say, what are we doing here exactly? Are we looking for something or did you just bring me here to kill me without your crew noticing.” Damn, there he goes again, provoking the armed and unpredictable gunman. Stop it, Echo.

“Don’t tempt me,” Crosshair growled. “We’re looking for your little friend, right? Happens I know where he lives.”

“Here?!” Echo turned away and gestured pointedly and the crumbling walls and the hazardous ceiling.

“Here.” An unfamiliar voice broke in.

There was a click and a soft rasp of breath from behind him.

The voice continued, “now why don’t you turn around nice and slow, or I’ll blow this little prick’s brains out.”

He spun around as slowly and quietly as he could manage on metal feet. Crosshair was standing in front of him, looking furious. Behind him, a man with a scar across his jaw was holding a pistol to the back of Crosshair’s skull.

Echo raised his hands- well hand and claw-hook… thing…- and spoke in his most nonthreatening voice, “No need for the threats. We’re just looking for someone. We won’t make trouble.”

“You won’t,” Crosshair muttered. He got a gun barrel jammed harder into his head in response.

“Shut up, you. We’ve got unfinished business and I’m real close to finishing it right now.” The man turned his attention back to Echo, a scar across his jaw pulling as he bared his teeth. “And what are you supposed to be? Why’re you poking around with HIM and why did he take you here?”

Echo shook his head frankly. “I have absolutely no idea how to answer any of that. I already told you we’re looking for someone.”

“Tinman needs to see your boss, Howzer,” Crosshair cut in unexpectedly, “Drop the guard dog osik so I don’t have to stab you.”

Fighting like cats and dogs, Echo mused, before catching himself. Focus, dammit!

Howzer seemed to consider this for a moment before appearing to reach some decision. Abruptly, he drew back his hand and clubbed Crosshair hard over the head with the butt of his gun. The sniper dropped like a stone and Echo’s extremely rusty, hard earned combat instincts screamed instructions at him. Unfortunately, before he could react, there was a swish and a thud and the world went dark.

__

Echo awoke.

Where was he? Was he back there again? Had it all been a dream after all?

CT-1409- CT-1409- CT-1409- CT-1409- CT-1409- CT-1409-

“Hey.”

He was brought back to awareness with all the suddenness of being dumped in the sea. The man with the scar- Howzer? A hand waved in front of his face.

“Cool it, vod. We won’t hurt you.” He raised his voice to someone across the space. “Hey, Fireball! Come see to our guest a minute.”

Soon, Howzer was gone, and a new person was in his place. He smiled at Echo and said, “Hi, I’m called Fireball. You hungry?”

Echo’s mind was catching up to the situation at last, and he grudgingly accepted the bowl of something that was pushed towards him. He sniffed it cautiously.

Fireball chuckled. “It’s not poisoned, I swear. I have too much respect for food to sully it with tricks.”

Well, to hell with it. Echo tried some stew. It was good- except that it seemed to be burning his tongue inside his mouth. He must have made a face, because Fireball laughed and passed him a cup of water.

Echo’s eyes scanned his surroundings. It appeared to be a cellar of some kind, expanded and connected to tunnels in three walls. Wooden support pillars dotted the space intermittently. It looked like a perfect place to stay hidden from, say, an Empire. Speaking of staying hidden… “Where’s Crosshair.”

“Oh now, he thinks to ask,” the familiar rasp answered him. Echo looked up. On the far side of the room, a support pillar stood. It had ropes tied around it, and Echo hadn’t thought twice about it on his cursory sweep of the room. Now he studied it more carefully, he could vaguely make out the skinny silhouette of the sniper, half obscured by the angle and the pillar itself.

Howzer was standing nearby too, now Echo came to notice it. The man strode over to the sniper and brandished a fist at him. Undeterred, Crosshair continued, “Oh, sure, I get the ‘scary revolutionary’ routine while Echo gets food. Very fai- ugh!”

“Shut up, you.” Howzer said again.

Echo turned to Fireball in confusion. The man gave him an uneasy smile and explained, “We know Crosshair well enough to know to keep an eye on him. Hence why he’s tied to a pole and you’re not. Howzer…” He nodded towards the person in question, “Howzer hates him. We don’t know why, exactly, but it’s not like him to be this aggressive. Even if Crosshair is a skulking, nosy little thief who stumbles into every single one of our secure locations.”

“Has he ever sold you out?” Echo asked.

“No, actually. Which is weird. He knows too many of our secrets that really, we should have taken care of him by now, but he’s still around and we’re not dead yet. Guess he isn’t out to get us caught, just to be a skulking, nosy little thief. Even Rex has started to just get used to him.”

“Rex? Is he your leader? We really do need to talk to him.”

“Don’t worry, he should be here soon.” With that, Fireball stood up, leaving Echo alone and unobserved in the corner of the room, listening to Crosshair and Howzer exchange remarks and insults and occasional blows.

Crosshair, who had never said more than one complete sentence to Echo, apparently didn’t know how to shut his mouth. Maybe he only spoke when it was to antagonize other. Echo could see that being the case. Regardless, he hoped the sniper wasn’t going to land himself- or Echo- in too much trouble by keeping with his current attitude. He certainly seemed determined to needle Howzer -and kick at him when he stepped into range- until the other man hit back.

_

Not too much time passed before footsteps were heard down one of the wall passages. Three sets, by the sound of it. Before long a trio of figure emerged. All three were wearing hoods and cloaks that obscured almost every inch of them. They marched into the cellar and were met by Howzer, snapping a quick salute.

“Sir, he’s back.” Howzer said.

The lead figure looked passed Howzer towards Crosshair. He spoke, a bit muffled, and inclined his head, “Mir’sheb”

Crosshair smirked and returned the greeting. “Mirsh’kyramud.”

“Don’t break my second in command,” he warned Crosshair sternly. “I don’t want to send you back to Hunter in a box.” And that was apparently that. Howzer was clearly still seething, but the lead figure was clearly uninterested in the presence of the sniper. They talked indistinctly among themselves for a few moments longer, until Fireball came up to join them.

“There’s another thing, Sir.” Fireball said. He guided the leader towards Echo’s corner. “We picked up someone else in the house front. Someone who was looking for you specifically.”

They stopped in front of Echo. The leader pulled off his hood and mask, revealing a stern face and buzzed blond hair. Something in Echo’s brain sparked.

“Rex? Is that- is that you?” His words were suddenly not working properly, but he couldn’t stop himself as he stuttered on. “It’s- I’m- do you know who I am?”

Rex’s eyes were wide, and he sank to one knee and stared into Echo’s face. He looked as though he’d seen a ghost.

“Echo?!”

____

Mando’a words (Mando’a.org)

aaray-shebs: pain in the butt

osik: crap

vod: brother

Mir’sheb: smart-ass

Mirsh’kyramud: boring person. Lit. “brain assassin”

[milkybellybites]

Pink Hope - Lee Anton

Pink Hope - Lee Anton

Pairing Anton x Reader Genre Fluff Warnings None! WC 675

Masterlist

Chapter One

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

7:26AM

Look at me, I’m as helpless as a kitten up a tree. And I feel like I’m clinging to a cloud, I can’t understand. I get misty just holding your hand.

Misty by Lesley Gore blares through my headphones as I read the twenty second chapter of my favourite book Little Women. Being a hopeless romantic means rereading the same fifteen romance books over and over again, obsessing over said books, and finally, daydreaming about feeling that kind of love. Everyone always says that certain kinds of love only exist in movies and books but I dont believe them. How can someone write about experiencing such amazing love without feeling such amazing love?

“Morning Sunshine, lets get going. We are going to be late.” Chaewon chirps as she bursts through my bedroom door, “Gosh Y/N, how many times have you read that old book.”

I roll my eyes as I take out my headphones and place the old tatty book in my bag, “Don’t knock it till you try is Chae. You never know, you might like romance books.”

“What? And be like you? Listening to lovey dovey music while reading your silly little romance books all day.” She laughs, standing up from my bed bumping shoulders with me, “I could never spend my days swooning over men who dont even exist.”

“Hey, Laurie and Amys’ love story is perfect. You cant deny it.” I replied as we make our way downstairs.

“Actually I can. I never read the book. Bye, Mom!” Chaewon waves a goodbye to my Mom as she opens the front door. Chaewon started calling my Mom “Mom” only one year into our friendship after she had a nightmare during a sleepover and my Mom comforted her. Ever since that night Chaewon has had two Moms.

“Bye, Mom! See you tonight.”

7:47AM

“Y’know, if you spent more time studying and less time listening to Mac DeMarco you wouldnt have a 62% in Japanese.” Chaewon exclaimed wildly as we exit the convenience store.

“Y’know, I dont think I’m going to take academic advice from someone with an average grade of 54%.” I laugh, cracking the lid of my iced coffee bottle.

“Hey, I am not taking any kind of sass from a person who reads for fun.” Chaewon grumbles at me.

“Maybe you should pick up a book. Try expanding your pea sized brain.”

We both laugh as we make our way into the school gate.

8:01AM

“Morning Eunseok.” I smile at my seat mate.

“Hey Y/N. How are you.” He questions.

“Good,” I say with a small smile while turning to get my books and pencil case out of my bag, “Did you have practice this morning?”

“Oh, yeah,” He replies, looking down at the rumpled up practice bag that is covered in dirt, “Lots of running this morning.”

I laugh quietly and turn back to my books but not before he could ask, “Is Chaewon here today?”

“Yeah,” I reply pointing a few rows ahead of us, “Why?”

“Oh, no reason.” He quickly and quietly covers the creeping blush on his cheeks.

8:12AM

The classes quiet and comfortable atmosphere is abruptly disrupted by a group of teenage boys barging in hollering and whooping like a group of baboons. They are so not like the boys I read about.

“The gang is back together!” Sohee - the self-proclaimed “Ladies Man” - exclaims while sitting down in his seat.

“I am so happy you're back Anton.” A voice I recognise as Shotaro hollered from the back of the group.

Anton? I wonder who that is. I turn to look at Chaewon to find she is already looking at me. She gives me a confused look and I simply shrug my shoulders.

“Yeah guys, its pretty cool.” A small unrecognizable voice mumbles. 

The group of boys start to disperse out to there seats as the first bell rings, leaving a lone boy standing in the middle of the class, nervously grabbing his backpack straps.

Oh.

Oh. That was Anton.

[docholligay]

Yellowjackets 2.7: Bullet Points

Hello! This is about up to Season 2, Episode 7 of Yellowjackets, and ONLY that of Yellowjackets. I have not seen beyond this spot, at all, and know NOTHING about this show. Please do not spoil it for me.  Things that are spoilery in nature, for me, include: saying things like  “Just wait!!” confirming or denying anything I put forward, outside information about the cast interviews or creator statements, leading questions like “Do you think “blank moment” means anything?” etc. Remember  that Y’ALL HAVE SEEN THE SHOW AND I HAVE NOT. This informs the way you  talk about things relating to the show. Just be really careful is all  I’m asking. Also: If there is LITERALLY any stance I  could take on this show or character that would make you upset, please  just fucking block the tag

If you WOULD like to discuss the show and my takes on it, the Discord is right here! I don’t go there, so it’s a great place to get every emotion out.

Please thank @sailorsunspot and @moonlight-frittata for backing this odd way of doing a liveblog, and remember my tip jar is always open

Not that I expect them to know this, but that snow is good insulation and they should pile it all against the sides of the cabin. 

Obviously the music in the opener changing so dramatically (I’ve been wondering if it’s changing, it seems I was right) means something about the fact that our leads are getting closer and closer to the wild thing they were in the forest--I can’t help but wonder how this is going to sustain itself over what I think are meant to be three more seasons. 

Obsessed with Ben’s psychosis and falling apart. How he is basically kicked out of his own reverie and forced to come back to the real world, and how he has this moment of immense despair. But even then, he can’t kill himself, he ends up asking Misty to do it for him. But! Misty’s full application of her manipulative powers here is so interesting, because for once it is not SHAME that guides Ben from doing what he wants to do, it is consideration. It is kindness. Whether Misty is actually distraught over the baby or not is pretty much irrelevant--Ben THINKS she is, and that’s what makes him decide to live. Ben decides to do something else for the good of another person, instead of to protect himself. 

I’m interested in Lotties assertion that the wilderness is not transactional, and then following that up with, “It gave us what we wanted” when they were worshipping it. Don’tr get me wrong, I am full on to a non-transational God figure, but it seems sort of transactional? Given that I think that, I wonder what the whole thing with Lottie allowing her ass to get beat is supposed to do. 

LOVE that Crystal is gone, and there’s no blood! If we’re gonna go full on with the ‘wilderness is real’ thing, which I remain a bit disappointed by, at least I want to see some truly fucked up paranormal shit. 

There’s a thing I think might be developing that I sort of…don’t want to discuss on main? Part of the problem is when you bring up a wrinkle in anything, there’s no room for nuance. Something is either a racist piece of shit or a tragically misujnderstood narrative. Something is either misogynistic or a deep understanding of women. This is homophobic or it must be life affirming. You’re a terf or no trans person is ever wrong, etc. So I guess I won’t bring it up, but god I find the internet’s inability to discuss anything in a nuanced manner annoying. ANYWAY. 

I don’t care that much about it, but it is minorly distracting--the snow and the breath in the cold are so fake ahaha. 

So the therapist has never been real! Has been the wilderness the whole time. I should have picked up on that so much earlier I feel like, i figured it right before they showed it, like, midsentence ahahah. “Does a hunt with no violence feed anyone?” is an interesting line. Not sure how I feel about it, I think it’s one of those things that sounds deep but doesn’t quite stand up to scrutiny. At least as an actual guideline for life--I could believe the wilderness saying this, because it craves blood. But the question is, “do you actually need this violence anymore, or are you falling into because it’s easier than living with the echoes of the past?” I mean to an extent, I think they convinced themselves of the necessity of their own violence, though admittedly I haven’t seen the actual hunts start yet. 

Is nat gonna die? Is this why her inner glow turn or whatever? 

So at the end it seems to suggest that the group is not necessarily aware of what they did, at least entirely. I am…interested to see where this goes. I feel a lot of ways about it at once, and I could coime out liking it a lot, or not at all, but it’s far far too early to say. I was taking it for granted that they knew what they were hiding, but I suppose now I’m not sure that’s true. Also lightly suggested that Misty perhaps remembers more, maybe owing to her being somewhat less destroyed by the whole overwhelming truth of what happened.

[earlysunshines]

misty

kindergarden teacher!sana x fem!reader. (p1. 1)

summary: you take your niece to her first day of school and- shoot, you might have a crush on your nieces' teacher.

wc: 2k

warnings: none, pure fluff

pt2 pt3 pt4

a/n: hiii this is my first post, feel free to leave feedback or just ask, comment, or anything like that, hope u enjoy!!

also, credits to @soliarus for inspiring and encouraging me to post my take on this! I really liked their take on this prompt/idea, so please check it out!!! it's so cute :'-]

-

you and your niece Hana, approach the classroom, and you spot parents already bidding their goodbyes and waving to their children from the cheery, chat-filled classroom. 

Hana reaches for your hand, holding your large hand with her small one. you look down at your niece, and she wears a white shirt, denim overalls, and a beige backpack, you had dressed her up this morning. The young girl stands outside the door with you and looks into the classroom from the door nervously.

“y/n, auntie…” She begins, “What if no one wants to be my friend?” 

There’s a look of surprise on your face after hearing what she said. She looks down at her beige, velcro sneakers. You squat down to match the little girl’s level,

“Hana… Why would you think that?”

“I don’t know… I don’t want to be the only one alone.” She says, and her frown deepens,

“Hana, sweetheart,” you start, holding both her hands in between your palms, “Trust me, at least one person will talk to you. Even if it isn’t today, someone amazing like you will make a friend, I mean, who wouldn’t want to be your friend? I made a lot of friends when I was your age,” 

You pause and put your hands on her shoulders, making eye contact, and your tone softens,

“You and I, we’re alike, . your dad and grandma think so too.” you begin, “And, be glad. Your dad isn’t as cool as me, trust me. Be glad you got your auntie’s genes, and because you have my genes, you’ll be the coolest in the room.”

“You sure?” Hana questions,

“Of course I am.” You assure her. You stand up and encourage her, “Now, come on, let’s go inside, your dad said your teacher was nice!” you say, smiling at the little girl and standing up again, “You lead me, I might get lost and I’m a bit scared myself, this isn’t my classroom after all.”

Hana’s worried expression is replaced by a growing smile after hearing your last remark,  “You’re so silly y/n, you’re old and scared? I thought you said you were the coolest!” Hana giggles, teasing you slightly.

“Hey! I am the coolest! and I'm not old! you should see your dad!”

The little girl laughs and gains a sudden boost of confidence from the lighthearted teasing, holding, no, grabbing your hand and practically pulling you into the classroom with her as if you were Alice traveling into some wonderland.

You two enter the classroom, and the first thing you notice is the smell. The vanilla scent isn't overwhelming, and you can even smell the faint notes of peaches and pears. The scent matches the slightly chaotic classroom and its well-thought-out arrangement and reminds you of the cafe you work at in a way.

There are kids in seats that are coloring, some looking or running around the room, and some with their parents taking pictures. Hana drags you to the colorful cubbies where she would put her finished work and lunchbox in. She shows you the sticker she put on the cubby with her dad from when they visited for the open house, and you smile at the sight. It’s a shark sticker, Hana and her dad love sharks.

“Hana, love, stand next to the cubby, I want to show your dad.” You tell her, pointing to the area where you want her to pose. She scoots over to the spot and smiles widely, her gums showing a bit as she smiles so brightly; it makes you smile too. you quickly snap a picture and send it to the group chat that your brother, mom, and dad are in.

You two wander around to where the backpacks are supposed to be hung, and your gaze wanders across the room to see a beautiful woman waving to a parent. The woman smiles at the other parent and crouches down to the little boy's level, then points to an empty seat before standing up and making eye contact with you. 

The woman is beautiful. Her dark brown hair flows effortlessly down to around where her ribs are. You find that it might be weird to think this, but her nose is perfect. The way it’s angled and the slope of it, and you surprise yourself at how much you like her nose, because you’ve never really thought about a nose like this. your gaze moves down to her peach-colored lips, and they look soft, lush, and really kissable-

you stop your thoughts on her lips there, because this is a woman you’ve just seen for the first time (and she’s making you all flustered and blushy like a stupid teenager in some romcom).

You look at her outfit, it’s cute and pretty, just like her. She wears a beige cardigan and white skirt that is loose on her thin figure, and the jewelry that completes her look is a small silver necklace sitting on her fair skin, just above her exposed collarbone, a small bracelet around her hand, and small gold earrings.

Hana feels the hand that holds hers slightly loosen up, and she looks up at you to see you staring across the room, ears tinted a shade of light pink. She looks over to what, or- who you’re looking at, which makes her tug at your sleeve, and it breaks you out of your trance.

“That’s my teacher, she’s really nice,” Hana says, smiling, “Last time, she gave me an extra sticker! Dad says she reminds him of you.”

“Me?”

“He says that she has the same warmth or something, I don’t know how people can be warm in the same way, that was kind of weird. He also said the way she talks to me reminds him of you.” Hana says. Your niece walks you over to the woman and she smiles at your niece,

“Y/n, this is Ms. Minatozaki.” Hana says shyly, tugging at your hand. 

“Hello, Hana. It’s nice to see you again.” The woman says, patting her head. Her voice is sweet and higher pitch, and the way she speaks is soft and welcoming, it even makes your cheeks warm up a bit. 

Her smile almost has you losing your balance, as if you were a weak tree getting hit by a gust of strong wind. The way her lips curved up to reflect her genuine joy in seeing your niece again made you weak in the knees. The woman’s gaze lands on you, and she makes eye contact. Her head is just barely angled when she looks up at you due to her being a couple of inches shorter, and you try not to fall into another trance from seeing her alluring features up close.

You try to compose yourself as you put your hand out to greet the beautiful woman, 

“Hello Ms, I’m y/n.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Y/n.” She replies. Sana is stunned by the woman in front of her, and it takes her a moment to really take in your presence. Your face is almost intimidating from how sharp your features are, and she’s trying not swoon over you in the moment seeing as you’re in the middle of introducing yourselves, and you’re (what she thinks,) Hana’s mother. 

her smaller hand fits yours perfectly as she shakes it. the world seems to pause for a bit as you realize this beautiful woman is shaking your hand, and it feels like you’re in a drama of some sort as everything slows down around you. She puts another hand on the outside of yours so that both hands are welcoming you into her precious workplace. 

Hana looks between the two women, a small smile tugging at her lips. She senses the spark that forms from the small interaction, and the way her aunt’s stoic and (usually) confident facade disappears at the moment.

You notice that your hands are still connected, and you pull away to run a hand through your hair, trying to play it off (you don’t, by the way, Hana reads right through you). 

You shift your look over to the little girl and squat down again to meet her level. A loose strand of hair that didn’t get braided is pushed behind your niece's ear by your slender fingers.

“Alright,” You say, placing a thumb on the girl's cheek, rubbing it lightly, “I’ll let you be off on your own, go have fun and be good okay? I’ll be here in the afternoon.”

“Yes y/n!” Hana beams, giving you a toothy grin. You laugh out softly and give her an almost identical grin back,

Your smile widens and there's a small feeling of worry that doesn’t go unnoticed. You really do hope everything goes well for your niece, after all, she’s your only niece and you just want the best for her. 

“If your teacher says you were good today, we can go to the cafe and I can make you your favorite hot chocolate, how about that? Ms. Dahyun also said she made a special croissant for you.”

“Please! Please! I’ll be good, I promise.” Hana says, practically jumping up and down. You smile at her enthusiasm and nod, 

“Alright, be good to Ms. Minatozaki lovely, I’ll see you later.” You say before you two exchange a nice, warm hug, and after you pull away, you push away her bangs and press a kiss to her forehead, lingering for a second.

You stand back up and watch the little girl run off on her own to an empty desk with coloring pages and markers, you smile at the sight.

“Hana is very enthusiastic, she’s a wonderful little girl from what I’ve seen so far. She’s so cute!” Ms. Minatozaki beams, and you turn your head to meet her gaze again, nodding.

“Yeah, she’s a curious little girl, and very bright.” You begin, then sigh, “I just hope she doesn’t cause any trouble. She’s pretty shy with new people, but she’s very energetic when she warms up and, well- you know how kids are.” You joke. 

Ms. Minatozaki lets out a giggle, and the way her nose scrunches makes you lose your cool a bit, it’s so cute that it has you laughing with her, and you don’t even bother to think about how pink your ears are right now.

“I’ll be going now Ms-”

“You can call me Sana, I mean, you’re not my student.” She says, laughing a little. 

“Definitely not.” You joke, and you want to joke on forever and make her laugh the whole day just to see how her face lights up and how adorable she looks when her nose scrunches slightly.

Sana watches you straighten out your dark brown jacket and her cheeks warm up a bit when you shoot her that cute smile of yours, but of course, you don’t notice due to how oblivious you are in the moment. The young teacher punches herself mentally for feeling a small flutter in her chest from who she thinks is her students’ mom, and she wonders how she’ll survive the year if she’ll see you more often.

“I’ll get going then, again, let me know if anything happens.” 

“Of course, I’ll make sure Hana has a great day,” Sana responds, nodding.

You and Sana exchange sweet smiles again, a similar warmth spreading through the two of you as you part. 

Before heading out the door, you wave to your niece again and the two of you smile at each other. You also take one more look at your niece's beautiful teacher, then head out to clock into your morning to afternoon shift.

Leaving the building, the sun seemed to shine a little brighter, and there was a new warmth in your chest knowing that Hana was in the hands and care of such a beautiful, sweet, and cute teacher: Ms. Minatozaki.

You were definitely going to convince your brother to let you take Hana to school more often, and pick her up regularly too.

… and little did you know, Sana would hope to see you often as well.

[waterlilyspad]

The Horseman's bride Chapter 1 (PART 2) Calm before the storm.

Yay I figured it out :)

No warnings this time only wholesome stuff

“I believe her name is Misty” he says before clicking a few times, on call the creature flies down and perches on his left shoulder as he scratches the little bird’s collar. “Good girl.” He purrs as you sit up, the bird clacks and coo’s before flicking its head in your direction, its yellow eyes pierce your soul. “Oh no way, it’s like your horse!” You exclaim as he laughs “She is my horse.” You pause before asking “Sorry for all the questions, how is that thing your horse.” You ask as he lifts his finger to stop you. “Think of a memory of any creature of the earth you live in, a companion perhaps or something small, preferably something that can fit in here.” He asks as you do just that, but as you try to think of something good your brain kinda wanders after he says the word small. As a child you ran to the bathroom during a game of hide and seek. Running behind the door you close it and turn off the lights before flopping into the bathtub, as you peer out a set of eyes stare back at you from in front of the door. You remember being so afraid as a kid, you kept completely quiet and in the dark waiting for the mystery person to blink, that is until your cousin came barging in, flicking the light on. “Found you!” He yelled as you screamed, but just as he flung the door open a leafy life insect came fluttering around the bathroom, landing on the curtain, and a pair of bright eyes decorated its wings. You blink and hovering down onto the bed an emperor moth lands in front of you, standing on the comforter. “Woah.” You say in a whisper as the rider stands and cups the moth in his hands “Misty’s my best friend, she’s been the only one who’s stayed with me all these years.” He explains as you smile. “I know the feeling, I have a dog at home, well my parents have a dog at home named Peanut.” Before you can finish the sentence a Shiba Inu jumps down from the rider’s arms and runs in circles, you smile ear to ear. “Pean- I mean misty, here girl!” You beckon as the dog obeys jumping into your lap as the tray goes flying. “Oh crap!” You yell as the rider flies forward and grabs the whole thing before the bowl even has a chance to fall, he towers over you holding the tray as you peer up with Misty in your arms. “Sorry.” You apologize as he chuckles “It’s quite alright.” He reassures, he straightens up before walking with the tray back to the kitchen.

As you scruff and play with Misty you can’t help but realize you’re still wearing your clothes from the day previous, your skinny jeans have been torn and muddied and your long sleeve top also suffered the same abuse, you feel sticky, and the warmth of the covers don’t seem to help either. “Uhm, do you have a shower I can use?” You ask as he turns, “I have a bath if that’s what you're asking, but you should dry wash considering your injury.” He explains as you shift your legs under the covers. “Oh…yeah…” You say quietly. “I’ll get some water ready, let’s get you up and moving in the meanwhile shall we.” He says walking up to you shooing misty away as she hops off the cot. You sit up and swing your legs over the side, your feet touching the wooden floor as you take a moment. “Hold on, I almost forgot! wait just a moment please.” He heeds before walking out of sight. You hear a door close as you tap your foot on the ground. Quiet remains and soon a few minutes go by. “Okay I think he just left.” You say out loud at misty trots over to you and flops down by your feet. A few more minutes go by, and you decide enough is enough, I’m getting to that bathroom, also because nature is starting to call. You lift yourself up using the small rickety chair from earlier but when you do a quick pain shoot through your ankle and up your leg. “Ahk!” You exclaim as your leg nearly gives out, just before you hit the floor a pair of hands grab you up. “I told you to wait!” He says, you jump in your skin as he holds you from behind, where the hell did, he come from?! “Oh my god how did you do that?!” You ask as he grumbles “Please Audrey if we’re in this together you have to trust me.” He explained as you retorted. “I’d trust you if you didn’t say be right back then leave!” You argue as he sat you down on the chair. “I had to grab these from the outdoor shed.” He explained to you before grabbing two wooden crutches from the wall next to you two. “It's been a while since I’ve had to use them alright. It took some time to find them so, I guess you're right, I’m sorry.” He says as you sigh “It’s alright.” You say as he comes up to you, you hold one crutch under your arm as he holds your other arm. Slowly you both rise before he hands you the other crutch, “Slowly now.” He says softly his large hand smoothing over your back and to your shoulder. You struggle a little, but the support gives you just a little more confidence to move, you take slow steps, your right leg raised

to avoid stepping with it, “Oof yeah haven’t done this since I was a kid I guess.” You say nervously as he follows along with you forward. “You’ve done this before, haven't you?” He asks as you sigh “yeah fell down a slide the wrong way and boom emergency room it was.” You explain as he laughs, you're not sure he knows what either of those mean. “You’ll have to tell me about it later.” He says with a light laugh as you chuckle.

After some hobbling and help from the rider you find yourself sitting on a small stool in the bathroom, fiddling with your long sleeve shirt as you yank it off with a temper,”Rhh! Ahh! Finally!” You huff before the same is done with your bra. “Oookay now to get…my pants … off… Ughh..” You groan out loud and after some considerable fighting you manage to tear your skinny jeans off, dirt and dried mud hit the floor as you shiver. “Ugh! I slept like this!” You say to yourself as you begin to notice the spatters of mud, dried blood, and the smell of heavy exercise radiate off of you. Grabbing hold of the water bucket, the rider managed to even boil some water for you, slowly you begin to wring your towel, you rinse off first doing your best to avoid your right ankle, slowly scrubbing off the grim feels exquisite. You sigh in relief as the warm towel runs over your arm. Soon bruises and other small cuts not previously known make themselves known, it’s also at this time when you realize just how much you hurt yourself. But if you're a soul? How are you sustaining these injuries, as you think about that you begin to wonder, do my clothes also have a soul why are they here? You wonder, what about my shoes? Or my socks? None of this is making sense but considering some of the ghostly apparitions you saw last night were also dawning wears of their time it would stand to reason that perhaps, it’s not a matter of soul but something else you don’t completely understand yet. You have so many questions but already feel bad using the rider as your walking Wikipedia. “Guess it’ll have to stay a mystery.” You say with a sigh drying yourself off with a dry towel. 

After drying you sigh with relief, you feel like a new Audrey. But soon the relief washes to panic as you begin to realize the obvious, your face grows red. “I don’t have any clean clothes!” You jerk as you yank the towel over you, looking over to the door. “Craaap..uhhh..” You groan, gritting your teeth, you remain seated on the stool as you fight with asking him, giving in you nervously but audibly ask out loud. “Hey guy, you still there?” You ask as the voice on the other side answers, “Present, is something the matter?” The rider is sitting in front of the bathroom door at your voice he sits up from leaning against the wall. “Nothing’s wrong just…You have any clothes to spare?” You ask as he goes quiet. “Oh right.” He says on the other side as you toy with the hem of the towel. “I’ll find some, they’ll be mine, but it’ll do for now if you don’t mind.” He asks as you reply “No! Yeah, I mean! Go ahead…ahh dammit.” You say your ears feel hot, he’s a pretty big guy, maybe one of his tunics can serve as a dress. He knocks a few times before opening the door slightly and sliding in a pair of clothes. “Here love trying those and let me know if they don’t fit your needs.” He explains before shutting the door. “Thank you!” You reply before scooting the stool and yourself over toward the pile. You throw on an oversized button up tunic, it tents you like an oversized nightgown. “I knew it, hmm.” You say out loud before scanning the room, you come across a black belt sitting on top of the pair of enormous pants, picking it up you wrap it around your waist, now the outfit’s coming together you think. A little more confident, you speak up again. “I’m ready now!” You say as he opens the door slightly. “Are you decent?” he asks as you laugh “Yup! As decent as it gets!” You say as he opens the door, he pauses standing in the doorway taking in the sight of you, seeing how you’ve styled the tunic he gave you into a dress. “Had to get a little creative, well as creative as you can be with just a belt and an oversized t-shirt.” You say sarcastically as he clears his throat. “Yes that's…” He sees your exposed legs, the bottom of the shirt just barely covering your knees, you give him a look, he continues “That’s very nice, it’s different.” He says as he hands you your crutches, he kneels next to you as the two of you stand, you don’t see it but for a moment his attention from looking down at you catches on the way the fabric drapes on your chest and before the form is even visible he looks straight on ahead at the door while helping you rise. 

Together he leads you back to the cot and assures you that you’ll be safe here while he runs some errands. “Misty’s going to come with me, but at any moment Audrey if you're in any distress, call me by any name you can think of, and I’ll be there.” He explains before getting up, “Okay! Anything, hmm we’ll I’ll think of some good names for you while you're gone.” You say as he laughs. “No, you won't, you’re going to rest, your soul needs to heal dear.” He explains as he sits on the chair tugging his boots on, you watch mesmerized as the old sturdy boots are laced up, “I don’t know if I can sleep, I mean what if a spooky ghost gets inside or something while you're not around?” You ask as he finishes securing the other boot. He slowly turns towards you before speaking. “Then Eylma will come for you.” He says as your face narrows to a look of concern. “Wait, who's that.” You ask wearily as he stands. “Eylma wanders about these parts for young women she can devour, the only way to stop her from eating you is by sleeping, if she sees you awake and healthy enjoying your life…” He says before walking up to you and snapping. “She’ll eat you in one bite, and I hear she’s a messy eater.” He warns as you shrink into the covers. “Uhh…. okay…yeah sure Elmo… aha yeah uhm goodnight, guy.” You said nervously as you pull the covers over your shoulders and bury your head into the pillow, a low laugh emanates through the air that quickly turns into a wild laugh, you bolt up out of the covers and stare at him dead on. “OH, YOU LITTLE SHIT!” You yell as he laughs, “You turned into a feeble little thing! You honestly believed that nothing can even get in here, not even a mouse!!” He laughed as you grabbed a pillow next to you chucking at him, flinching as the pillow hit his side then hurrying to get his coat on before you threw something else at him like the chair or a cup. “Arg!! You better apologize! Of course I believe you! Stupid!” You yelled as he cackled, grabbing the bag of jars and food before leaving through the front, “Get rest Audrey May! Or else Muahaha!” He teased picking up his bag of food and wiggling his fingers in a hunch, before closing the door. You huff crossing your arms before smiling. “I could be stuck with the worst I suppose.” You say to yourself before lying down on your side, you smile as you nestle into the quilted blanket and warm sheets, your eyes close and you drift into a soft sleep, clean cozy and most of all, safe.