#she's never felt this adored & safe & content in satin knows how long she is getting herself trashed every other saturday and STILL

[gumm1defloor]

Personally speaking if I had to pick one rairpair out of the entire hellaverse to become canon it would be Velvette x Verosica but man it is going to be the most lavish, fluffy, intensely intimate, passionate, rancid & disastrous 24/7 trending full blown shitstorm hell has ever seen I don't think anyone is going to be ready. Not even these two. Dear god especially not these two.

Man Verosica is just 2 for 1 on short gremlin kings who are also coincidentally emotionally constipated walking talking sacks of untreated mental illness wrapped up in 3 layers of intimacy issues isn't she but hey at least this one's pretty much guaranteed never to steal your credit card for horse riding lessons and most definitely won't be caught one ring down in wrath in the middle of fuck knows where with said credit card so.... yay improvement?

[duxhess-kryzewan]

Obitine First Kiss?

- Drowning -

When they had first landed on Corellia, Obi-Wan was relieved to be somewhere that had plenty of fresh water. The last planet they had been hiding on was dry and dusty and even Satine - born and raised on a desert planet herself - had became sick of the terrain.

The novelty quickly wore off the longer they trekked through the jungle. The forestry was dense, the humidity unforgiving. Every breath he took came with the unsettling sensation of drowning on dry land.

Qui-Gon had left them the night before last, leaving Obi-Wan with coordinates on where to meet the following day. He had a contact - a long time ally - who resided on miles away from the forest they were hiding in. If all went according to plan, they would have a new and unrecognizable ship and a safe means off the planet. All he was tasked with was keeping Satine safe in the mean time.

He didn't like to read too much into why Qui-Gon was so keen on leaving them alone together.

"The sky looks like it'll be clear tonight." Satine comments as they move into a clearing.

"It' seems so," He says, "Let's just hope it stays that way."

Storms were frequent and often unpredictable. One minute the sun would be shining, only for the clouds to roll in mercilessly pelt the planet with rain.

"From desert to storm," She huffs, "I can't tell which is worse."

He observes her intently as she walks; how her damp hair clung to her neck, how she would periodically run the back of her hand across her brow line. He sympathized with her discomfort. The air felt sticky, the breeze heavy as it blew past them. Satine had long since abandoned her attempts at maintaining her regality. There was no point anymore. She had been with them long enough to know they wouldn't judge her in the slightest for slipping out of her Duchess façade, and the climate made it nearly impossible to look the part.

Not that it mattered much. Obi-Wan didn't think there was anything that could make her any less beautiful.

He tried to push the thought to the back of his mind. An irrevocable attachment to her was the last thing he needed.

"Can we stop for the evening?" She asks.

He marvels at the gentleness in her voice. Before, in the beginning weeks she had been placed under their protection, she had huffed and whined until he relented and gave into her requests. The near death experiences and friendship they managed to forge over the passing weeks had humbled her some, and gave him enough insight to realize she was more than just an entitled Duchess. He was grateful they had found a way to be more civil to one another.

“As you wish."

They were nearing one of the many lakes that covered the planet anyway; a more than ideal place to set up camp for the night. Fresh water was something neither of them took for granted after their stay in the desert.

When they stop Satine wastes no dropping to the ground and leaning back against one of the trees that surrounded them. Foliage was another thing they both had become more appreciative of recently. The cover of trees, the simple ability to rest against something other than the hot sand, even the always lingering dampness of the soil.

He busies himself looking around around for wood dry enough to start a fire. It was by no means necessary for warmth, but it would be there luck that the temperature would drop with the arrival of night time, and it wouldn't hurt to have a source of light. The stars might have been bright on Corellia, but he would be hard pressed to consider it enough illumination for them.

His mind had been so preoccupied on setting up camp that he hadn't even noticed Satine's absence until a splash broke through the silence.

"Satine?"

He turns just in time to see her disappear below the surface of the water, and for a fleeting moment panic floods through him. What if she can't swim? What if something was in the water? And why is she in the water in the first place?

The relief he feels when she reappears is almost insurmountable.

"What are you doing?" He half yells, trying his best not to let the worry in his voice show.

She grants him an amused smirk, and something about the sparkle in her eyes sends a warmth trough his chest, despite how hard he tries not to let it do so.

"Cooling off, Obi-Wan." She says matter-of-factly, "You may not mind being covered in sweat and grime after trekking through the jungle all day, but I refuse to stew in filth."

He has to repress the urge to laugh. Roughing it may have humbled the young Duchess, but there was always going to be a part of her that was prim and proper.

"I'm a bit more preoccupied with your safety than worrying about my personal hygiene."

He glances to the pile of discarded clothes at the waters edge and is grateful for cover twilight provided him. If Satine could see the blush that colored his cheeks at the thought of her undress she would never let him live it down.

Satine scoffs and swims closer to shore, "As if you have to choose one or the other. Honestly, Obi-Wan."

She was right, of course. He hated the stickiness from the humidity and sweat that clung to his skin, but it hadn't been at the top of his priority list.

"Priorities, Duchess."

She laughs lightly and disappears under the water again.

The fire he was attempting to start was a lost cause, he decided. There was too much moisture for a flame to start. As much as he didn't like it, they were going to have to fair out without one for now.

So he settles for laying out his cloak in the driest area he could find and depositing their items on top of it. Qui-Gon didn't leave them with much, but the few items they did have were more than essential to their survival the next few days.

Obi-Wan decides that, so long as she is content in the water, he'll sit along the lakes edge and meditate. It had been too long since he had a chance to do so, and this was he could keep an eye on her.

​He settles at the waters edge, lightsaber and top layer of his clothing discarded beside him. The muggy air proved to be a challenge when taking a deep breath, but the sounds of the water and quiet of the night soothed him.

That was, until an unexpected splash of cold water hit him.

He sprang to his feet, the sudden chill catching him off guard. Below him, he found Satine smiling mischievously, still partially submerged in the water.

"Have you lost your mind?" He manages to sputter out.

She laughs, "Don't act like it didn't feel good. You know as well as I do the temperature is less than favorable."

He glares at her, but there's something to her smile that almost makes him forgive her. Rarely over the course of their time together has he seen anything resembling genuine happiness grace her. For all of the things that drive him crazy about her - and there were many, many things - there were just as many that made him adore her in ways a Jedi certainly should not. Seeing her smile was one of them.

“I was meditating."

"You do that quite enough."

"Its an integral part of connecting with the force."

Satine rolls her eyes, "Yes, so you've reminded me many times."

They had managed to cultivate something close to a friendship during their time on the run. Qui-Gon had insisted that he try and get along with her, both for the sake of their mission and for the sake of the Duchess.

He's sure neither Qui-Gin or himself could have anticipated the less sudden feelings that would blossom between him and the Duchess. Feelings that most definitely went against the code.

It scared him that part of him didn't care.

"Swimming in a random lake on an unfamiliar planet doesn't seem very becoming of a Duchess," He counters with a smirk, "Especially one so preoccupied with appearances."

"Neither is being on the run with a Jedi, but I've had to learn to adapt with what's given to me."

Her smiles falters for a moment, and suddenly he's filled with guilt. He could feel her emotional struggle through the force; how much anxiety and guilt she carries for leaving her planet in the midst of a civil war.

"I'm sorry," He says, "I didn't mean to imply anything."

The smile returns. It's softer, more understanding, but there all the same. He likes to see it on her.

"Forgiven," She stands, the shallow end of the water only reaching her waist, "Though I would appreciate your assistance."

She reaches out a hand towards him, all while he tries his best to ignore the way her wet underlayer of clothing clings to her. He hopes the cover of nightfall masks his blush.

"As you wish, your grace."

He takes her hand in his, fingers gripping her smaller ones tighter than what was strictly necessary, and just as he goes to pull her up onto dry land she roughly yanks him towards her.

He topples into the water, barely managing to catch his balance before he was submerged completely.

"Satine!"

She backs up quickly into deeper water, swimming away from him with a newfound sense of urgency. It doesn't stop the laughter though, or the wide smile she wore. It was the first time he's seen her that amused, and if he wasn't so distracted by his sudden frustration he would marvel at just how beautiful happiness looks on her.

"Have you gone mad?"

Satine laughs some more, "Oh please, it's just water Obi-Wan. You're doing little more than bathing and cooling off. Master Qui-Gon wouldn't be too pleased if I was left alone because you suffered heat stroke."

It was pointless to argue that the temperature wasn't near hot enough for heat stroke to actually overtake him and, though he would never admit it, the cold water did make him feel a great deal better.

"I'm not much use as a protector while unarmed and in the water." He decides to counter with, though he knows its a weak point. If the situation suddenly became dangerous he would just as well protect her here as he would on dry land.

Satine doesn't answer him and instead disappears once again below the surface of the water. The sky was clear, but not even the planets stars could provide him enough light to see where she had vanished too.

He had grown accustomed to the many facets of her over their time together. There were versions of her he learned how to handle; from a stubborn Satine to a solemn one. A mischievous Satine however was uncharted territory, and he didn't know whether to fear her or be amused by her.

There's only inches separated them when she ascends out from under the water, and he quickly settles on terrified.

He's utterly terrified, because never has another person looked so beautiful to him as she did in that moment. Lips parted slightly, wide eyes staring back into his.

"Satine..." It's a warning, but he knows deep down his heart isn't really in it.

"Obi-Wan."

She's kissing him then. Gently; a ghost of a touch that he almost isn't convinced is real. Her lips are cold from the water, breath warm against his skin.

Before he can think better of it, his hand finds hers under the water, his other sliding up the slope of her neck and coming to cup her cheek.

"We shouldn't be doing this." He whispers against her.

Satine pauses for a brief moment, "No we shouldn't."

He wonders what it says about them that neither make a move to stop.

It crosses his mind what Qui-Gon would say if he found them like this; pressed together in shoulder deep water, disregarding the promises both of them made to their people and to themselves.

Her hand slide up the back of his head and tangles into his hair, her fingers grasping his Padawan braid tightly between them.

"We should stop." Satine says before kissing him hard with a newfound sense of urgency.

"We should." He agrees, kissing her back with just as much force.

Her legs suddenly wrap around his waist and it renders him breathless. The code was cracking around him with every passing second, and yet, he couldn't bring himself to stop kissing her.

It dawns on him then; that he has fallen irrevocably in love with Satine Kryze.

[hwy-unicorn]

Shelter in the Storm

Summary: Alex tried to think back to a time that Norma had shared this much with him before, but came up empty. Norma must’ve realized it as well, eyes meeting his, a flicker of regret in her gaze. He reached out to her before he could stop himself, his fingers brushing against hers, before he turned his palm upwards, intertwining their fingers. She glanced down at their hands, entwined together, his thumb just barely brushing over her knuckles, so gentle that she almost didn’t feel it. She did feel it though, because how could she not have felt one of the kindest touches another man had ever graced her with?

Norma is scared of a storm and Alex provides her with much needed comfort

Note: Hi there! This story takes place shortly after the pair of them are married, before they actually get together! Please let me know what you think!!

Storms are heavy. Cumulus clouds can weigh up to nearly a million pounds, the weight fluctuating depending on the amount of water it’s holding. No one ever really thinks about it, considering rain falls in tiny droplets and not all at once. Norma thinks that more people would consider rain a danger if the water fell in a heavy flood, but it doesn’t and most people are reasonable enough to know that it probably never will. Norma, however, has never been a reasonable woman, and the rain crushing her to death was just one of her many worries when it came to stormy nights. She could usually find solace by climbing into bed with Norman, sure that he could protect her from any weight of water that may fall. 

But Norman wasn’t here, and Norma was alone. Well, not completely, as Alex was just down the hall, but it wasn’t like she could go to him for comfort. Sure, they were married now, but it’s not like it was real, perhaps on paper maybe, but not in any other way. There were lines that shouldn’t be crossed no matter how scared she was, so she’d just have to push through her fears.

Lightning lit up her room again, and she childishly threw the blankets over her head, and plugged her ears. She was hoping to block out the sound of thunder that would soon follow, but it didn’t do much as the house shook with the sound. Norma sighed, climbing out of bed and making her way downstairs. It became quite clear that sleep wouldn’t visit her tonight, so she decided to make herself some tea and attempt to relax a little.

Easier said than done when your entire house feels like it could fall apart.

As her tea heated on the stove, she plopped down into the small nook by the window, peering out as the rain fell relentlessly against it. She couldn’t see the pit from all this way, but she was sure it was flooded by now and the thought stressed her out more than the sight of her drowned flowers right outside. Why did she think running a motel would be easy?

After her tea was poured, she settled back into the nook, legs curled up and a wool knitted blanket wrapped snugly around her. 

“Can’t sleep Mrs. Romero?” The scorching tea sloshed out the side of her cup and down her arm as she flinched from Alex’s sudden voice.

“Sorry!” he laughed, grabbing some paper towels and wiping her arm. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”

“Well you did!” 

She snatched the paper towels from him, rubbing uselessly at her newly stained pajama shirt, a pout forming on her lips as she realized the stain probably wouldn’t come out. Alex rolled his eyes fondly, unable to hide his smile as she shoved the paper towels back into his hand angrily. Before he could walk away, a sudden burst of thunder had Norma dropping her cup, the last bit of tea spilling and soaking her pajamas and blanket in the process. He couldn’t help the surprised burst of laughter that escaped him and she whipped her head around to glare haughtily at him.

“I’m glad this is so funny to you!” she snapped, throwing the blanket off of her and standing to clean the mess. She looked entirely ridiculous, and entirely too adorable, as she stomped around the kitchen in her soaked pajamas and fuzzy little socks, huffing and puffing the entire time. Alex caught her by the arm as she stormed past him to clean up more, taking them gently from her hand.

“I’ll clean this up,” he reassured, his tone patient. Her eyes softened just a little, tenseness escaping her. “You go change. I’ll make some more tea too.”

She sighed, glancing nervously towards the stairs, before casting her gaze back up to his kind eyes. It’s not that Norma didn’t appreciate his offer, but to go upstairs, in the dark, alone, on a stormy night? It sounded entirely too much for her. He could sense her reluctance, and had already put the pieces together in his head. She probably would never admit it- Norma was never one to admit to anything after all- but she was scared of the storm. Alex found it almost funny; that this vociferous force of a woman was scared of something as harmless as a thunderstorm.

“Do you want me to come with you?”

She gave him a pointed look, as if he was being absurd about his assumption. “Why would you do that?”

Her mood swings gave him whiplash. Her defensiveness was always lurking under the surface, showing itself in the most erratic of moments, even towards his kind offer of comfort. “Well,” he shrugged. “I mean no offense but you look terrified.”

She scoffed, crossing her arms over her chest and giving him another harsh glare. “I am not terrified.”

He knew it to be best to not get caught up in such petty little squabbles, so he shrugged. “Okay then. Go change.”

He didn’t think she could do it, and she knew it, the smug smile on his face telling her that this was indeed a challenge.

“Fine. I will,” she stormed off towards the stairs, and for a moment, Alex thought he had lost whatever little argument this was, until she stopped at the bottom step. Norma gripped the railing, puffing out a nervous breath, before glancing helplessly back at her ever so smug husband.

“Would you like me to come with you?” he offered again, his complacent attitude disappearing at the moping look on her face.

She wrung her hands together nervously, before nodding, offering an apologetic smile and half shrug.

“Alright, let’s go Mrs. Sheriff,” he placed a hand on the small of her back, giving her a gentle shove up the stairs.

Any nervousness she had earlier had vanished, her entire being comforted simply by his kind voice and compassionate touch that he offered. She had always felt safe with Alex, perhaps not at first, but there had been a shift somewhere in their relationship, although it was unclear where. At some point though, the tension she had once felt while talking to him had dissipated, replaced with a more excitable, yet serene feeling. And at some point, the displeased look that she had once seen in his eyes was gone, instead a calm, almost content gaze taking its place. So many things had changed since that moment they met on her motel porch, things that she wished could have been different, but things that had led them up to this point. The pair of them, husband and wife. Alex kissing her not once, but twice the day of their wedding, gently leading her up the stairs hours after, in the dark after she had gotten too drunk to walk herself, and again tonight but for a different reason.

He waited patiently outside the door as she changed, throwing her stained clothes into a nearby hamper and rustling through drawers to find something just as warm. The winter in White Pine Bay wasn’t terrible, but it was still cold, and the heater in this old house was a finicky thing. Her satin slips and silk robes wouldn’t do it for tonight, though she didn’t own much else. She settled on a longer nightgown that fell just below her knees; the sleeves long enough to keep her arms warm, and since she still had her socks it actually wasn’t too chilly. As Norma was pulling the nightgown over her head, the lights around her suddenly flickered, before fizzling out completely, thunder rumbling low in the distance.

Panic rose in her chest and she stumbled towards the door. “Alex?” she threw the door open, crashing straight into him.

“I’m right here, you okay?” he asked, holding her arms to steady her.

She nodded, eyes darting around the darkened hallway. “What happened?”

“Just a power outage,” he shrugged, moving towards the stairs. “We can grab some candles or flashlights or-” she grabbed onto the sleeve of his shirt. “or something.”

“O-Okay. Okay, um,” she walked closely behind him, fingers tightening onto his sleeve. “They’re in the basement- just be careful on the steps!”

They moved down the stairs at a snail’s pace, Norma clinging onto him and refusing to let go the entire way down. She would’ve been more embarrassed if it wasn’t for her fear of the storm and the unlit house clouding her thoughts.

“You don’t own a single flashlight?” Alex asked, somewhat teasingly, as he rummaged through the boxes in her basement.

“There should be one down here somewhere,” had she left it in the pit? “I found the candles though.”

“I think that should be good enough,” Alex sighed. “I’m buying you a flashlight though. You need to have one, you know.”

She rolled her eyes. “I have one somewhere.”

He huffed a laugh, shooting her a look as he put another box back onto one of the metal shelves. “Yeah well, you kinda need to know where it is,” he peeked inside the little basket that rested next to her toolbag. “You know, in case-” he froze.

“What? What is it?”

He wasn’t sure what it was, but the sight of Norma’s small handgun in the basket next to a pair of scissors made his blood run cold as he thought of all the possibilities that could’ve put those objects in there together. The only scenario that made the most sense was the one of that night that Norma had left him that horrifying voice message. Was she the one with the gun or the scissors? Alex knew either way that if it came down to it, Norma wouldn’t use either against her son, and the thought that he could’ve found her dead terrified him. 

He held up the gun. “Why do you have this?” Panicked, Norma made a move to grab it, but he held it just out of her reach, eyebrows raising. “What is this doing here Norma?”

“I must’ve misplaced it, that was a mistake,” she reached for it again, though he wouldn’t let her take it. “Alex give it to me.”

He stared at her a moment longer, hoping for the truth to just spill out. “Did Norman have this?” she opened her mouth to no doubt defend her son, but he held up a hand, stopping her. “Norma, don’t lie to me. Did Norman have this that night you called me?”

She looked up at him, tears lining her blue doe eyes as her lip quivered. “He wouldn’t have hurt me,” she said definitively. “Okay? So just- just give me the gun and I’ll put it away.”

He had a certain look in his eye that she couldn’t quite place, and she wondered if it was a mistake admitting to him that Norman did in fact have her gun. And though she told Alex that Norman wouldn’t have hurt her, she wasn’t entirely sure that was true. He wasn’t himself that night, and Norma truly did fear of him turning that gun on her. She certainly couldn’t admit that to Alex though.

He decided to drop it, against his better judgement, and just hope that Norma would tell him everything at some point in time. Norman was away in Pineview, so there was no need for Alex to press this conversation any more. He handed her the gun, and she slipped it into the box with the little tea light candles.

“Let’s go light these.”

They both let the conversation go, the atmosphere returning to the easy, lightheartedness that was so rare for the pair of them. Norma sat back in the nook as Alex lit the candles, placing them strategically around the kitchen to provide some sort of light.

“There,” he set the last candle in the middle of the dining room table. “Good enough?”

“Yeah, it’s perfect,” she smiled. “Thank you by the way,” her voice was quiet, almost shy. “You didn’t have to help me.”

Alex only shrugged. “I didn’t want you to be scared.”

Norma flushed, butterflies erupting in her tummy at his sentiment. Alex Romero could be a truly sweet man when he wanted to be, and Norma wondered how many others saw this side of him. Had he ever had a girlfriend while she was here? Not any that she could remember, unless he was very good at hiding her. Then again, if he did, he’d probably live with her after his house burned down, and not at Norma’s motel for three months. He’d also probably call his girlfriend when he was drunk at that bar, instead of Norma. So no, he probably hadn’t had a girlfriend in quite a while, which seemed like quite a shame, considering he was a truly good man. Not that Norma liked him like that, not at all.

Lightning lit up the room, providing more light than the candles could, before it faded, thunder echoing immediately after, and that familiar anxiety that Norma felt earlier was back. Alex glanced back at her from the stove, eyes raking over her shaking form and comically wide eyes. He poured both of them tea, and made his way over, handing her a cup as he peered out the window.

“It doesn’t look too bad out there,” he said, in what he hoped was a reassuring way.

“Are you kidding?” Norma sighed. “Look at it, it’s practically a flood!”

He spared another glance down at her, sighing. He was moving before he could give his decision another thought, nudging her legs with his hand. “Alright, move over.”

“What are-”

“Just move,” he huffed, and she quickly rearranged her stretched out legs, curling them back up to her chest, moving the blanket to make room.

They didn’t both fit very well, but he managed to squeeze his way into the small nook across from her. Norma couldn’t help but blush just a little as their bare legs made contact under the blanket, but there wasn’t room for him to move so she didn’t comment. She fiddled nervously with her cup, watching as he settled in and sipped at his tea. Maybe this wasn’t too bad. It was silent for a while, neither really knowing what to say to one another. They never got many moments of tranquility in each other’s presence, so it was safe to say that this silence was just a little awkward.

Alex finally spoke up. “Why are you so scared of storms?”

It sounded accusing, and he gave her an almost guilty smile, letting her know he hadn’t meant it like that. Norma didn’t notice his tone though, shrugging in reply. “I don’t know. They’re… loud.”

“You’re loud,” he countered playfully, and she rolled her eyes, unable to hide the small quirk of a smile.

“Yeah, well,” she shrugged. “The lightning could strike the house.”

He snorted. “Norma, come on. The chances of that happening are like- like one in a billion-”

“One in two hundred, actually,” she replied, refusing to look at him. She felt like a child all of the sudden, being scolded for her silly fears, though she knew Alex wasn’t really scolding her. “I know it’s silly but-”

“I’m not saying it’s silly Norma. I-I just don’t think you have much to worry about.”

It grew silent again, and Alex got the feeling that he said something very wrong. He knew he had to tread carefully with Norma, but he always seemed to say the wrong thing, either leading to a blow-up or the silent treatment. It seemed to be the latter this time.

Alex opened his mouth to apologize, but Norma was speaking before he could. “I just... have always been alone,” it almost sounded like she was about to cry. “No one’s ever comforted me, or-or protected me, besides Norman of course, but not when I was a little girl. Not when I needed it the most,” this was about more than the storm, and they both knew it.

Alex tried to think back to a time that Norma had shared this much with him before, but came up empty. Norma must’ve realized it as well, eyes meeting his, a flicker of regret in her gaze. He reached out to her before he could stop himself, his fingers brushing against hers, before he turned his palm upwards, intertwining their fingers. She glanced down at their hands, entwined together, his thumb just barely brushing over her knuckles, so gentle that she almost didn’t feel it. She did feel it though, because how could she not have felt one of the kindest touches another man had ever graced her with?

“I’m sorry,” he spoke quietly. Their eyes met, blue to brown, an unknown feeling held between the gaze. “I… I’m not going to let anything bad happen to you Norma.”

She had a feeling that he was talking about more than the storm, but the sentiment was just the same. Norma blinked back her tears, and turned to look out the window once more, her fingers tightening her grip on him just momentarily, before their eyes locked again. There was a brief flicker of uncertainty in her eyes as she watched him, but then it was gone as if it was never there in the first place, and she was moving before she could change her mind.

She let his hand go, sliding across the small space in the nook resting her body against his in some sort of awkward hug. Alex didn’t mind it though, his hand resting on her back and pulling her just a bit closer, so she was almost on his lap, her head resting in the crook of his neck. Norma breathed out a sigh, the tension leaving her body. Why did this feel so… right, as if her body was made to be with his?

“Am I keeping you up?” Norma asked quietly, her warm breath feeling a little too nice against his neck.

“No. No, I- I start late tomorrow anyways.”

He hesitated, before his fingers came up to stroke her blonde curls, afraid to overstep any boundaries. She didn’t mind though, she was actually pleasantly surprised at how comfortable she felt in his arms. It was almost like she was protected from any and everything that could hurt her, sheltered simply by his touch.

“You’ve always protected me,” she spoke so quietly that Alex wouldn’t be able to hear it if she wasn’t pressed so close against him. “And I… I don’t always say it but I do appreciate it.”

“I know… Norma. I know.”

Norma was unsure about it at first, living together that is, but perhaps it wouldn’t be too bad. If this is what living together entailed, then she could get used to it. She could get used to more, if she was being quite honest, but this? This was fine for now. Excellent actually.

[heart-eye-harrington]

hold me closer, tiny dancer

Summary: based on the Elton John song

Word Count: 2.2k

Warnings: one (1) curse word

Author’s Note: hello! this is my first mulit-part writing and I am so excited! I’ve wanted to write this idea for so long and am happy with it so far! Any feedback would be greatly appreciated! Hope you’re staying safe and sane, sending love♡

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Quiet towns were inhabited by two different types of people; those who were content with the quiet, who bought houses in a cul-de-sac, settled down, and found comfort in routine patterns of life, and those who despise it, counting down the days to when they could get the hell out, when they could run away to somewhere they felt would be exciting. People bought their tickets out in a variety of ways, some worked dead-end jobs to save up money, others poured their efforts into talents or skills that would ensure them good cash once they were gone.

Very few straddled the line in between wanting to stay and wanting to leave. They could see the charm in the tight-knit community and small buzz in the streets, but something deep within yearns for more. 

One breath of life in the stagnant air was art. Being able to create something new, express oneself in more than words. While it wasn’t something the entire community took notice of, it was all a small subset clung to. Like dandelions growing in the cracks of the sidewalk, breathing new life into the existing set solidarity. It wasn’t easy, but life would find a way. 

The small theatre in Hawkins was never as crowded as Hawk Cinema, meaning the owner welcomed any performers with open arms; the Hawkins High drama department, starting bands, amateur comedians and dancers from the local dance studio.

The owner was a kind old man, Mr. Dave, who knew how much the space meant to people. He allowed the aspiring artists in almost every day, and most took full advantage of it. His only condition, he was allowed to check in every once in a while to observe. 

⋆★⋆★⋆★

The shopkeeper’s bell chimes through the small lobby, causing Mr. Dave to lift his gaze from the day’s newspaper. A grin spreads to his ever rosy cheeks when his gaze falls upon you and the duffle bag resting on your shoulder.

“Good morning sweetheart.”

“Good morning Mr. Dave. How are you today?” his cheery expression only grew with your words. You adored him and always made an effort to strike up conversation, the least you could do for everything he did for you and the community.

“Doing alright, how bout yourself?”

“I’m fine, thank you. Is there?-” he laughs, cutting you off before you could finish. He knew how shy you were about dancing in front of other people. He was honored to be the only exception

“No sweetie, no one else is here. Go in there and dance your heart out.” You flash him a smile full of appreciation, and with a quick nod, you enter the auditorium. 

He was telling the truth, it's nothing but you and the stage. A familiar warmth and excitement wash through your body, tingling with anticipation. You felt your muscles cry for joy. Your body craved ballet like it did a warm fudge brownie, and your craving was about to be satisfied. Not wanting to wait a second longer, you rush to the stage, eager to start.

Placing the duffle bag on the worn wooden stage, using your now freed hands to take off your jeans and sweatshirt, revealing the leotard underneath. You place the discarded fabric into your bag, exchanging them for your pointe shoes and cassette player. 

You knew Mr. Dave wouldn’t mind if you used the audio system, but there was something so intimate about having the music to yourself. It was just you, the singer, and the stage. You were free to move however you wished. 

You place the headphones over your ears and clip the player to the waistband of your stockings. Clicking play, a soothing voice begins singing. You stand, take a deep breath, and move.

The music is soft at first, allowing you to slowly warm-up. Small, precise movements allow your muscles to awaken, but when they do, they want more. As the music grows and swells, so do your movements. Arms move to create stronger lines and spins get tighter and faster. As your mixtape goes on, the music slows again. Feeling warmed up enough, you go into full pointe. The moment you fully extend and place all your weight on your toes, you fall.

Hitting the floor with a soft thud, you mentally curse yourself. You knew these shoes were dead, but wanted to milk them for any life they had left before shelling out more money on a new pair. You had a spare, but that didn’t mean you wanted to use them yet. A groan rumbles through your chest as you sit up, drawn from your thoughts by movement in the dark auditorium. 

“Sorry Mr. Dave, I hope the noise didn’t scare you. I’m alright,” you call to the shadow. When it doesn’t respond, instead continuing its journey to the stage, unease slowly adjusts its grip on your heart. The feeling isn’t long-lived, as the shadow makes its way into the lights illuminating the stage. 

He wears a concerned and embarrassed expression on his undeniably beautiful face. He rakes a hand through this mop of wavy brown hair, which you can instantly read as a nervous habit disguised as an attempt to keep cool. 

“You sure you’re ok?” his voice is sweet, making you feel a sense of comfort around the stranger. You reach to your shoes and begin untying the laces.

“Yeah, thanks.” your gaze stays trained on your handiwork, feeling a sudden shyness under his watchful eyes.

“You were amazing. I’ve never seen someone move like that. It was like I could hear the music you were dancing to without even needing to listen” There’s a sense of wonder in his voice, its tone soft yet true.

“…. I’m sorry I didn’t say something sooner, I-I just couldn’t bring myself to interrupt.”  you blush at his words, standing to put your shoes away and stealing a look at him. His hands are dug into his pockets, eyes trained on the ground near your feet. You allow a smirk to grace your face at the nervous energy you both emitted. 

“I’ve never seen you here before. Are you a performer?” you look up to him as you dig through your bag. 

“Oh God no. I don’t have an artistic bone in my body. My friend Robin’s in a band and they’re practicing today. She wanted me to watch them, something about L.A.” your ears perk up.

“L.A.? What are they gonna do out there?” 

“Beats me, but she’s wanted out of this shithole for as long as I can remember.” you nod, zipping up your bag after getting the new shoes, ribbon, and sewing kit. Looking up to him, you pat the space on the stage next to you. He takes the invitation with a small smile and sits. 

“What’s all this?” his words are full of curiosity, a door to a world he had never seen opening before him. You giggle at his tone. 

“I have to break in a new pair. Pointe shoes are basically an extension of your body, so you have to fully customize them.” You place the ribbon on the side of the new slipper, taking out the needle and thread, and expertly sew the ribbon and attach it to the shoe. All he can do is watch in awe and the speed and grace in even your sewing skills. It’s evident that you could do this in your sleep. You’re done both shoes in record time, and hold one out to him. After the expected quizzical look he shoots you, you place it in his hand. 

“Feel how hard it is near the toes?” His fingers move across the smooth satin before gently pressing on the toe area, afraid to break the seemingly delicate footwear. Upon pressing down, he’s surprised to feel how hard the area is.

“It’s to support your foot when you go up on your toes. My old pair were used to death so they got flimsy. That’s why I fell, no support.” You hold out your old shoe, urging him to feel the difference. It is softer, and he’s surprised you didn’t break an ankle.

“So, we have to break these new ones in. Wanna bang?” He looks at you with wide eyes, the conversation taking an unexpected turn. Looking from the shoe in your hands and up to him, you instantly realize your mistake, nervous laughter filling the air. 

“Easy tiger, it’s not what you think. Banging is when you bang the shoe against something hard to make it a bit more malleable. Like this.” You grip the arch of the slipper and slam the toes against the stage, a loud bang echoes throughout the theatre. You watch as the tension in his shoulder releases, replaced with a goofy grin. He holds the shoe just as you did and taps the ground. You laugh, urging him to go harder. Hesitantly he follows your advice, the bang echoing just as yours did. 

“Yeah! You got it!” Before you know it the two of you are wailing the shoes against the stage, the cacophony mixing with your shared laughter. For a second you forget you’re strangers, embracing the oddity of the situation. The moment is short-lived, as a voice edges through the noise.

“What the hell is going on in here?” The question doesn’t come from a place of anger, but of pure confusion. You and the stranger stop the pounding and laughter, embarrassment trapping it in your throat. You look up to see a girl with short dirty blonde hair followed closely by two guys; one with a buzz cut, the other a mess of curls. The boy beside you sits up, clearing his throat.

“He-hey Robin! What’s up?”

“I think I asked you first, dingus.” she chuckled, shaking her head. She leaves him alone for mere hours and he’s already finding his way into another story. 

“We’re banging,” he replied effortlessly. The smile playing his lips gone the instant the words left his mouth, realizing the band was just as clueless to the meaning of that phrase as he was mere minutes ago. The realization came at your expense as he felt you awkwardly shift beside him.

“Her shoes, we’re banging her shoes” he sheepishly taps the toe against the hard wood of the stage to demonstrate. The trio in the audience do their best to calm the giggles brought about at the scene before them. 

An awkward heat fills your entire being. You hated sitting here in front of strangers as they laughed at you. You knew it was of no fault to the boy beside you, whose name you assume is Steve after hearing Robin call at him. Eyes locked with the worn stage, you raise your gaze just enough to see the pointe shoe hanging loosely in Steve’s hand. As if scared your motions will activate another horror, you slowly reach for it. He almost jerks away, sadness etched in his features at how his blundering could change your joyous demeanor so quickly. He lets you take your shoe back, relaxing when you give his hand a reassuring squeeze, silently telling him it’s ok. 

“I should probably get out of your hair” your words don’t seem to be aimed at anyone in particular, head ducked down. 

“Wait. We were laughing at him, not you. You don’t have to leave just yet, it’s gonna take a bit for us to get our gear in here.” Guilt was evident in Robin’s words as she attempted to fix the awkward first impression. Her bandmates behind her reflect her remorse.

“No, no it’s ok. I have to get back to the studio anyway. But, thank you. I appreciate it.” The band nods and makes their way out of the theatre to get their equipment. You surry behind the curtain on the side of the stage to put your sweatshirt and blue jeans back on. Walking back into the light of the stage, you see Steve still standing there, a sheepish look on his face. 

“Sorry about that.” was all he could muster, the motion causing your heart to flutter. 

“Steve, it’s fine” you giggle, doing your best to convince him. 

“Wait, how do you know my name?” 

“Your friend Robin said it.”

“Now I feel like a dickhead not knowing yours”

“No one said it.” You both laugh at the small back and forth. After a moment you give him your name, and he gives a warm smile in return. 

“Well, y/n, will I see you again?” joy washes over you like the hot sun. It’s a feeling you could get used to. 

“Yeah, you will. I’m here almost every day.” You stare into his eyes. They’re some of the prettiest you’ve ever seen, the stage lights twinkle in the mix of hazel and honey, or maybe they were always like that. Either way, you could get used to getting lost in them. You blink, snapping out of your trance. 

“I’ll...see you around” You sheepishly turn, hoping he didn’t notice the blush rising to your cheeks. Maybe if you hadn’t been so worried about yours, you would have noticed the pink creeping onto his face as well.

[deathbymeow]

For You, I’d Die.  Chapter: 4. Shots

Adrien walked into the club, nodding at the bouncer at the door. He never had a problem getting into places, everyone new his name. It could be a curse just as much as a blessing sometimes. When everyone knew your name there was no privacy and everyone expected something from you.

She was the first thing he saw as he climbed the stairs towards the VIP lounge. No matter how hard he tried he was always drawn to her. He could find her in a crowed without even trying. It didn’t matter if he was transformed as Chat or if she was in her spotted ladybug suit. She was his compass guiding him home and he would always be hers even if she didn’t know it.  

Her black hair was out and fell down her back curling on the ends. Thigh high black boots that should be illegal showed just a hint of her toned legs, until Alya spun her around and Adrien caught an accidental peek at her black lacey panties. If he wasn’t already dead, he would be in a second as Alya let go of Marinette, who spun laughing into his arms.

Marinette looked up at him with some seriously sexy kitten eyes. Yep, dead. He was memorized by the way the flashing light seemed to make the blue of her eyes look like the sparkling sea. A surprised pout formed on her pink lips and she blinked her long lashes a few times before bopping him on the nose giggling.

“Adrien… you made it.” She breathed, smiling up at him, throwing her arms around his neck.

“Hey, Marinette. You look amazing, like always.” He hugged her back, just a second longer than he would anyone else.

Adrien held her at arm’s length to get the full effect of her outfit. The high waisted black skirt had small pleats, giving it the movement that allowed it to lift. Her long sleave top was made of tight black lace, showing off her perfectly toned body. The lace was see-through enough to show a hint of her lime green bra. If that wasn’t enough to kill him for the second time, what he saw next surely would. Around her neck a little gold bell hung off a satin ribbon. He instantly recognized it as the present he’d given ladybug on her eighteenth.

Adrien lightly flicked it and his sensitive ears heard the soft ding over the loud music. He could see her shiver as his fingers skimmed the soft skin under the bell and he intentionally let his fingers linger against her warm skin. He traced them along her neck and up to her cheek, brushing a wild strand of hair behind her ear. His thumb skimmed over her miraculous and he smiled as a soft blush formed on her cheeks.  

“Dance with me Agreste.” She said, sounding breathless. He nodded as she pulled him onto the dance floor.

One thing he was yet to learn, was how to say no to her so without hesitation he took off his leather jacket and threw it on the nearest lounge. Completely forgetting about the little black kwami snuggled in his pocket.

The music faded momentarily, and Nino was introduced by a deep voice. A loud cheer rung out from the packed club and Nino started his set with one of his original songs. When the bass dropped the crowd went wild, but Adrien was only focused on the dancing girl in front of him that was intent on torturing him. She danced against him, throwing her hands in the air and closing her mischievous eyes. The wicked smile on her lips gave him the feeling she knew exactly what she was doing.

Alya grabbed the bartender and yelled, “Get this boy a drink. He’s going to need it when my girls finished with him.” The bartender watched Marinette and Adrien for a moment then smirked and nodded in agreement.

Marinette knew how to move her body and tonight she wasn’t holding back. It wasn’t news to Adrien, but normally it was Luka that got all of her attention. He knew there was something going on between the couple. Marinette had taken two weeks off work much to his father’s disapproval. She’d ignored all of his texts and calls. He was worried about her and wanted to talk but now wasn’t the time.

He was slightly confused by all of her attention, but figured it was best focused on him than some of the other creeps in here that would use her vulnerability to their advantage.

The bartender returned and put their drinks on the table.  He gave Adrien the thumbs up and disappeared back into the crowd. Adrien grabbed Marinette’s hand and lead the still dancing beauty to the table.

“I’ve been worried about you.” Adrien half yelled next to her ear so she could hear over the music.

Marinette turned to him and softly smiled. “You shouldn’t be Agreste. I’m fine.” She winked at him and took a sip of his drink.

“Somehow Marinette, I don’t believe you, but I’m not going to push. Just know I’m here if you need me.” He kissed her on the top of the head, and she wrapped her arms around him.

“You’re too cute Agreste and god you smell good.” She mumbles into his shirt. Adrien chuckled; he knew he wasn’t meant to hear that but having the cat miraculous for ten year had its perks. One of them being extremely good hearing.

Alya startled the two when she slapped the table and yelled. “Let’s do shots.” As if on cue a heavily remixed version of Shots started to play.

“Ugh, I hate this song Nino.” Kim whined behind them. “But I’m in for shots Al.”

“You sure that’s a good idea Al?” Adrien asked pointing to an unaware Marinette who was still cuddling him.

Marinette loosened her hold on him and look up at him pouting. “You afraid Agreste?” She playfully stuck her tongue out at him and poked his chest.

“Me? Hmph never.” Adrien gave her one of his model smiles and flagged down the bartender.

Adrien was afraid though. Afraid of losing himself in her blue eyes. Afraid of telling her how he really felt. Afraid of forgetting his morels and trying to kiss her even though she was with Luka.

He hadn’t been in a long-term relationship since Kagami. There had been other girls but no one he really cared about. They always made him feel like they wanted something from him. Whether it was his money or fame he didn’t know or care.

He’d never fully got over his feelings for Ladybug and no matter who he was with it always hung over him like a storm cloud. A constant reminder that she wasn’t his. Ladybug had a boyfriend and was happy, so in turn he was happy for her. That was how love worked right?

There was only one girl that managed to change that.

He’d always been good friends with Marinette, but for some reason she’d always held back with him. He saw how carefree she was with everyone else, but he never got that from her. Until a few years ago when she started to intern for his father’s fashion house.

Marinette was halfway through her fashion degree. Luka had just left to tour with his band and Adrien somehow became her shoulder to cry on. The two spent almost every day together and he found himself falling hard for yet another girl he couldn’t have.

Finally, he got to see the carefree Marinette with all her adorable little quirks. At first it felt strangle familiar and then it started to all fit together. The day she bopped him on the nose then folded her arms confidently over her chest while calling him “silly Agreste” was the final piece to the puzzle.

Marinette was Ladybug and Ladybug was Marinette.

He’d fallen for both of them, at different times and years apart. He felt like the biggest idiot. All this time she’d been right under his nose. Literally, he was at least a foot taller than her.

Torn, he decided not to tell her in fear that he could lose her as a friend if she found out who he was. He would never come between Marinette and Luka. If friendship was all he could ever have with her, then he’d have to be content with that. As long as she was in his life that was all that mattered.

The bartender put a tray of shot glasses all filled with different coloured shots on the table in front of them, bringing Adrien back to reality.

Adrien ran one of his hands through his hair, trying to clear his head. Marinette was dancing provocatively in front of him with Alya.

“Shots it is then.” He said lifting the glass to his lips.

The rest of Adrien’s night was a blur of drinks, blue eyes, more drinks, laughter, even more drinks, dancing and way too much physical interaction with Mari. Not that he was complaining, but he was definitely going to need a cold shower when he got home.

At some point Nino finished his set and joined them. They continued to dance and drink until the music momentarily faded. The DJs voice rung out through the club. “This was a request from one of you, sassy things out there,” he pointed into the dancing crowd, “for the beautiful Marinette Dupain-Cheng in our VIP lounge. It’s safe to say, we can thank her for the slick new tunes from Four-sided Tragedy.” The music started to play again, and the crowd went wild.

A few people turned to look at her as “I’m going under and this time I feel there’s no one to save me. This all or nothing really got a way of driving me crazy,” played throughout the club.

Adrien felt Marinette tense against him. Her glass dropped out of her hand and shattered around their feet. Alya was instantly by her side, wrapping her arms around a shocked Marinette.

“Oh my god, there’s a remix already. Mari honey, are you Ok? Do you want to go?” Alya asked holding her face.

“What the actual fuck?” Nino yelled, looking around furiously.

“No… Yes… What do I do, Al?” Marinette looked shattered and it killed Adrien.

Adrien clenched his fists; he could feel his temper rising and his impulsive thinking took over. He grabbed his jacket and the girl’s bags, passing the bags to Alya and put his jacket over Marinette’s shoulders.

“Nino get Kim and Ivan to take the girls out the front with you. I just have to do something.”

Before anyone could stop him, he took off down the stairs, taking two at a time. He pushed his way through the crowd to the stage where the smug DJ was playing his set. Going around the back he snuck onto the stage before anyone noticed.

Adrien grabbed the DJ and slammed him against one of the speakers. “Who the fuck requested the song?”

“Whoa… Adrien Agreste?” The DJ smiled raising his hands in surrender.

“Don’t test me. Who was it?” Adrien growled, pressing his arm firmly across the DJs chest.

“I don’t know. Just some girl.” The DJ said smugly.

Adrien let him go and took a step back. “You’re pathetic.” He turned to leave.

“Hey Agreste. So, I guess we have you to thank for the song too. I hear she’s a great fuck.”

Adrien saw red. He turned and before the DJ had time to react Adrien’s fist connected with his nose sending him stumbling into the sound board. Blood started to pour from his nose, but Adrien didn’t care, he went to punch him again, but Nino and a bouncer grabbed him and dragged him off the stage.

“What the fuck Nino. Did you hear what he said. You should’ve let me give him the beating his punk ass deserved.” Adrien yelled still struggling against the hands that were holding him.

“Adrien there’s press here. We have to go. The girls are waiting around the corner but if the press find them…” Nino didn’t have to finish Adrien stopped struggling.

“I’m good. I’m good!” Adrien raised his hands. The bouncer let him go grumbling something under his breath about the youths of today.

Adrien and Nino took off towards the exit pushing their way through the dancing crowd. Even with a busted nose the smartass DJ managed to change the song to Apologize and as they walked out, he heard the lyrics “It’s too late to apologize, I said it’s too late to apologize,” being played over and over.

They found the girls with Ivan and Kim where Nino had left them. Adrien wrapped his arms around Marinette. She snuggled against his chest. “You Ok?” He asked suddenly feeling guilty for leaving her.

“Mm hmm. I just wanna get out of here. Can I go back to your place, I don’t want to go home?” She asked looking up at him with those damn eyes.

“Sure.” He answered with out really thinking about it, but it wasn’t like he would’ve said no to her anyway.

“Adrien do you really think that’s a good idea. She should come home with me.” Alya offered.

“Hello I’m still here. Alya you don’t have to babysit me. I’m good. Go have fun with Nino, don’t let me ruin your night.”

“Are you sure Mari? I really don’t mind.” Alya looked at Marinette, clearly worried.

“Hey guys, we don’t have time to for this. The press is heading this way.” Nino said, looking over his shoulder.

“Shit… Shit. Adrien, you better take good care of her, or you’ll have me to answer too.” Alya gave Marinette a kiss and her bag then nudged the two towards to road. “Quick grab that taxi.”

Adrien grabbed Marinette’s hand, he looked down at her and she nodded. “Don’t worry Al. You know I will.” He yelled over his shoulder as the two ran towards the taxi. His sensitive hearing heard her reply as they jumped into the taxi.

“Yeah, that’s what I’m worried about Agreste.”

Chapter: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8

[yoongi-sugaglider]

The Marionette and the Boy

I’ve been listening to a lot of @pekoe-chu and a particular song of hers inspired this story. The Marionette’s Scrapbook.  I really hope you like it and I would like to suggest you listen to the song while reading the story because it makes this just that much sweeter.

Taehyung x reader

Warnings: Main character death, fluffy fluff, angst

Word count:3110

He found himself floating, rising high in a sea of darkness filled only with the sound of his own thoughts.

He flashed back for a moment, remembering the last moments to his life before the darkness consumed him.

It had been unnaturally warm for the middle of winter. But he hadn’t minded much as he made his way through the brightly decorated downtown area, casually moving through the Christmas crowd as he sought out the perfect gift for his fiance.

She’d chosen to spend the last month or so at home overseas with her family, citing the need for them all to gather for a traditional meal the Americans called Thanksgiving. She was due to return to him that day and he wanted to greet her with her christmas present early when he went to pick her up at the airport.

But that was hours away, which gave him plenty of time to enjoy the atmosphere and shop to his heart's content.

Glancing into the window of a shop dedicated to children’s toys he’d smiled to himself, remembering her fondness for a certain type of puppet though he couldn’t quite remember what she’d called it at the time as she hadn’t known the korean name for such a toy.

Shrugging it off he turned to carry on when he’d spotted it. A small child that seemed to have lost their parent and now stood crying on the opposite sidewalk and as he walked they began to walk towards the busy intersection. Tears covered the poor little one’s face and the grief alone seemed to have made it oblivious to the things going on around it.

Taehyung remembered not even thinking as he sprinted forward despite the fact that the light had just turned from red to green.

He remembered the sound of screeching tires as he dashed towards the child.

The soft feel of it’s overly plush jacket that had been meant to protect it from the cold and now made for a perfect handhold as he wrenched the child off its feet before rolling back onto the sidewalk.

But...it seemed he hadn’t quite made it.

And now he hovered in the darkness, mind at ease at the seeming knowledge that the child had made it out of the incident uninjured except for a small bruise to its cheek that’d healed within a matter of days. He smiled as the thought came to him that the child had quickly been reunited with its mother, who’d sworn she’d only looked away for a second before the child had wandered off and disappeared out of her sight.

He knew it would be alright, that the mother had learned her lesson quickly and that the child hadn’t even remembered the incident now that christmas had come.

But… if everything had gone alright why was he now floating in this seeming limbo, almost as if he were trapped between this world and whatever lay beyond. He was fairly sure he’d died in the accident. So...then why?

“Why it’s because you didn’t die silly boy!”

The sudden voice in the stillness of the air around him startled Taehyung so much he shrieked, twisting and turning to see what had come along to speak to him before settling down at the sight that floated in the air before him.

A small marionette, no bigger than the length of his hands should he have placed them side by side and measured from one side to the other. It bowed playfully, the bells on its hat jingling joyfully in the stillness of their surroundings as it stood once more and straightened the iridescent purple shirt that adorned its torso.

The sleeves were poofed out in the style of the mid 17th century and the bright yellow fabric of its pants ballooned out in a similar manner. The tips of its brown shoes were curled upwards and the bell tipped hat had swatches of purple and yellow sewn into it in a most pleasing fashion.

“Why hello there!” Taehyung chuckled, bowing to the small toy in a way similar to the way it’d introduced itself.

“Now what’s an adorable toy like you doing here in a place like this?” Taehyung couldn’t help the curiosity that filled him, though it wasn’t tinged with even a single hint of suspicion as he felt quite safe in this place.

The marionette tilted its head, tiny silver bells jingling as it’s burnished wooden face broke out into a bright grin that reminded him so much of his fiance.

“It’s actually a bit more odd for a human to be here. This is the in between world. The place between life and death where toys are sent to guide children’s souls into heaven.” The toy waved at Tae. “And yet here you are, a full grown adult lingering where you shouldn’t be and much too far ahead of your time.”

Taehyung sighed, nodding as his final moments flashed in his mind once more. “Yeah, I did something dumb and well...I guess now the universe is trying to figure out what to do to me.”

The marionette shook its head, the merry sound of its hat filling Taehyung with a sense of ease. “No no, there’s a place for you. Back home with y/n. It’s just that we’ve got to get you back there before the two of you reunite.”

“Y/n? How is it you know my fiance’s name?”

The marionette’s smile brightened once more. “Well of course I know the name of my best friend. Why do you think I’m here? To guide you back to her of course!”

Taehyung nodded, his own smile breaking free. “Of course!”

The marionette waved its tiny wooden arms, gesturing to the darkness around it. “But first! Before I can bring you back to her I must tell you a story. The story of how a toy was given life and taught the meaning of love, the love only a human can have for another human.”

In a flourish Taehyung found himself in a dimly lit workshop. Wood shavings littered the floor and stacks of wood of all shapes and sizes were piled in every nook and cranny of the small space.

Taehyung’s eyes widened when he spotted a stooped figure working hard at the work desk and scrambled quickly to bow in apology before a small voice whispered into his ear from his left shoulder.

“Oh silly Taehyung he can’t see you. We’re in the past. There’s nothing for you to worry about no one will be able to see or hear you.”

Tae straightened immediately, chuckling at the embarrassment that flared in his cheeks.

“This is where I was born Taehyung. And that, is y/n’s grandfather, a few years before her 5th Christmas. He’s putting the finishing touches on me. Watch and see.”

Taehyung nodded and watched on in rapt attention as the elder man reached into a drawer just above him, removing a small glass eye that he seemed to smile at before affixing it to the small wooden face before him.

The marionette continued in a sing song voice.

“Fancy all this decoration

Painted across my face

Acrylic eyes and a smile sure are

Nice for a canvas of pear wood and grain”

The elderly man turned into the light, lifting the small wooden doll into the air to admire it. The dim light shifted, exposing the smile Taehyung saw grinning at him from his shoulder reflected in the elderly man’s eyes.

“He dressed me. Gave me a smile and clothing fit for a king. And one sole mission in life.”

“Love her dearly. Watch over my precious granddaughter and bring her joy so that the shadows of life never see the light of her frown.”

The grandfather spoke and when Taehyung looked back he lurched in the realization that the scene had switched without him realizing. They now stood in what he knew to be his beloved’s childhood home, the main living area to be exact.

The room was filled to bursting with christmas. Tinsel strewn on the walls and lights twinkling joyfully from the window that looked out onto a lawn covered in snow. And the center of attention was a tall tree, covered in the same twinkling lights as well as a plethora of small toys that seemed to serve as decorations.

Taehyung watched in amazement as the grandfather stooped low, placing the ribbon wrapped marionette among a slew of other similarly adorned packages.

“Find me sleeping underneath a fir tree

Wrapped in a ribboned gleam

Give me a name if you may, little princess

Let me present to you the tricks up my sleeve.”

And somehow he knew the smile that would grace the childish face of his angel upon seeing the small toy. A similar joy filled him as the scene shifted to the next morning. And the young girl found her new toy hidden beneath wrappings and squealed with joy while twirling it high through the air.

And Taehyung could swear he heard the words spoken. A promise to never leave her, to always be by her side that she may laugh and smile the brightest of all.

“She learned quickly from her grandfather how to move my wooden limbs. She loved to tie the strings to my arms and legs and laugh as she made me dance across her bed.”

The marionette smiled as it waved its hand at the scenes flashing before them. One showing the two of them in a garden, he clutched tightly to her chest as they chased butterflies. Another showed him tenderly placed atop the headboard, watching over her and protecting her from the nightmares that visited her in the dark.

“And sometimes things got scary, though I was always there to give her the comfort of a gentle heartbeat.”

Sounds of argument filled the home, though they seemed muffled in the small space of safety the young girl had created for herself in the confines of her closet.

“Hold me

And give me a tug on these heartstrings

God knows why I’m longing

For your sorrows to mend

Place my hand on my chest, there’s something I feel faintly beating,

Please use all my clothes to dry your eyes

If copper stains tarnish over your sight.”

And the marionette stayed with her, bright wood stained with the salt of her tears as she clutched it close to her chest. She wiped her face on the satin shirt, sniffling as she smiled down at her beloved toy.

“You’ll always protect me. I know you will.”

The sound of the innocently whispered words tore at Taehyung’s heartstrings, and in the quiet of the closet he could swear he heard the faint beating of a heart growing fond of the girl that it loved so dearly.

She spun in the now brightly lit room, giggling and dancing and seeming to grow before his eyes. A child blossoming into the gentle beauty of young adulthood. And ever present sat the little marionette, watching over her with a gentle smile and the swell of a beating heart that she seemed to no longer hear.

“And so she grew as I watched. Gaining friends. Friends like her that laughed and cried, hurt and bled, dreamed and grew as children should.” In a hushed voice the marionette continued.

“I was forgotten.”

Taehyung cried out in horror, watching with a broken heart as a particularly rambunctious sleepover party caused the delicate toy to fall from the headboard and slip between the mattress and the wall, forgotten and left to collect dust in the years that followed.

A hollow feeling sat in the center of his chest as the scenes began to fade away, leaving him once more alone in the darkness with the small marionette that seemed to shine so much brighter as his tear filled eyes traced over the smiling face etched into pear wood.

“And though I was found and tucked into a box in the corner of her mother’s attic I never failed to hope and smile, knowing that she was off somewhere living her life and loving someone as much as she had once loved me.”

Taehyung couldn’t help himself, reaching out and folding his arms around the small toy. He pulled it to his chest, feeling the warmth of emotion that was the love of this toy for the girl it once knew.

“You were alive. To her you were alive. I just know you were. I can feel your warmth.” Taehyung spoke through choked whispers as  he pulled away to smile down at the toy.

“That I was. And soon, once again so shall you be. But..not without sacrifice.” The doll winced, feeling the cold of darkness as unbeknownst to Taehyung its life force began to bleed away.

“Wait, what? No! She still needs you! I know she does.” Taehyung was frantic, his voice cracking as he looked around desperately for a way to help the marionette.

“No she doesn’t Taehyung. She has you now. A man of flesh and blood that loves and supports her in a way I could never be able to do. And so…” It paused, reaching up a tattered glove to pat Taehyung’s cheeks with wood splintered hands.

“I give my life to you Taehyung. That you may live. That you may return to the girl that we love most of all and do what I can no longer do.”

Taehyung let out a soul wrenching sob,clutching the small toy to his chest as for the last time, tears stained its warm wooden cheeks.

“Swear to me that you’ll be by her side. Always and forever. And you may have my life so that you can live, for her and for me.”

“I swear! I swear by all the stars in the sky! And I won’t forget! I won’t forget the stories you’ve told me and how much you meant to her.”

The marionette pulled away, floating in the space before Taehyung as the last bit of its life bled away. “I’m sorry Taehyung, you will forget. But that’s okay. Because at least I know I’ve done everything I can to make sure she’s loved and happy.”

And the marionette faded away with a final jingle of the bells that had once adorned its hat as the darkness around Tae began to brighten. So much so that Taehyung had to close his eyes to shield them from the light flooding into the once pitch black space.

Taehyung blinked blurrily, eyes struggling to adjust to the scene before him as he groaned his way back into the waking world.

It felt as though every limb was set afire, stiff as if made from wood and yet aching as if they hadn’t moved in more than a year.

He glanced around, taking in the stark white light that filled the room and had blinded him upon awakening. It seemed he was in a hospital room of some sort, sterile sheets clinging to the bed and tucking him in. Every surface seemed to be covered in bunches and bouquets of flowers whose heads drooped low in the cool air blasting from the industrial air conditioning vent high in the ceiling.

He tried to speak, the sound that should have been a quiet hello tumbling from dried and cracked lips that caused a figure tucked at the end of the bed to jerk awake with a small shout of surprise.

“T...Tae! You’re awake!” The young woman sobbed, tears springing to her eyes as she lurched forward and wrapped his tender skin in a soul softening hug.

“The...the doctors.” She struggled to find her words as her tears soaked in to stain the strange white hospital gown he knew his body to be covered in.

“The doctors said you were brain dead Taehyung. They were coming to pull the plug today.” She pulled away, wiping at the tears flowing down her cheeks despite the huge smile gracing the curves of her beautiful face.

He reached out, hand trembling with the effort as he brushed a thumb over the cheeks.

“I swore to you y/n. On the day we met I swore I would never leave you alone. That no matter what you went through I would always be here beside you.” His words were barely a whisper. But deep down he knew that the words held true. That somewhere along the way he’d spoken those words to her in a voice she couldn’t hear.

As she moved to hug him a shine of color flashed out of the corner of his eyes. A purple sheen that slid to the floor with a wooden thunk.

“Hey, what was that?” He asked, shaking fingers pointing to where the sound had come from.

“Oh?” She looked around before spotting the object in question. She crouched down and picked it up, brushing the tiny wooden marionette off with a fond smile before showing it ti him.

“This? This was a gift from my grandfather. I got it for christmas one year and I used to play with it all the time. I had found it in an old box in my mom’s attic back home and when I got the call about your accident after I’d landed well.... I thought I’d bring it with me to keep you company but I guess I don’t need him anymore.”

A lasting look of fondness lingered in her eyes as she stared down at it while fingering the splits in the old wood and the frayed edges of the once brilliant smile, now faded with age.

“I think I might donate him or something…”

An instant of irrational panic flowed through Taehyung as he reached for it.

“N...no...wait.” He wriggled his fingers, coughing for a moment from his dry throat.

She moved quickly, grabbing a plastic cup from the bedside table and holding it to his lips as he gratefully took a few struggling gulps before pulling away with a sigh to collapse to the rough cotton of his pillow.

“Please...please keep him?” He whispered, to which she giggled and leaned forward to place a loving kiss to his forehead.

“You came back to me my love. I would do anything for you. Especially if it means I can keep the love of my life and my best friend by my side.”

If there’s a hole left unpatched

By sentient beings

It’s only painful because now I know it’s fulfilling

And just for a toy wearing its dust

With what I have, I’ve sure done enough….