#that's largely due to me either not getting asks or just not logging in out of fear of being ignored if i say anything

[kopivie]

on second thought... ig maybe another move is in order. i'll probably just migrate here permanently. i feel far more comfortable here.

[moonselune]

Saw the Inbox was open, so got a request for Astarion, Wyll, and Karlach if that's okay? Could we get Tav giving them a massage? Maybe they noticed that they seemed tense, or they had a hard fight not too long ago. Or maybe they have been working hard on something. Either way their lover decides to pull out all the stops to help them relax. I just think getting a massage from someone they love would mean the most for those three. For Karlach she's gone so long without any touch whatsoever that a loving gesture like that would mean the world to her. For Astarion he's spent 200 years not getting a gentle kind none sexual touch that I think getting a massage from someone he loves, and having the massage done simply due to wanting to help him would be pretty emotional for him. As for Wyll he makes a lot of comments about his new bumps, ridges, and horns once he's transformed that it seems like he is worried about how he will be viewed by everyone. I think getting a gentle touch from someone he loves, and them being open that they love every part of him would do a world of good for him.

aweee this is so wholesome

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Karlach:

The camp was quiet as the night settled in, the fire crackling softly, casting warm light across the nearby trees. You sat on a large log, absently staring at the flames as your mind wandered. The day had been long, and the battle not so long ago had taken its toll on everyone—especially Karlach.

She had fought with everything she had, as always. Her unrelenting strength had turned the tide in the group's favor, but you could tell that it had drained her. She’d seemed tense afterwards, her usual infectious energy dimmed by exhaustion and something else—something deeper.

Karlach hadn’t said much after the fight, brushing off any offers of help with her usual bright smile, but you could see it in the set of her jaw, the tightness in her shoulders. You knew she was trying to hide her discomfort, not wanting to burden anyone else with it.

But after so long without any physical touch, her Infernal engine keeping her separated from the world for years, you knew that offering her comfort in the form of touch was exactly what she needed right now.

Your heart ached just thinking about it. Karlach had been deprived of touch for so long, and though she could now finally enjoy it again, she was still hesitant—almost afraid to ask for it. You stood up, determined, and made your way toward her tent.

As you approached, you saw her sitting at the edge of her bedroll, her back to you. She was rubbing her neck, clearly trying to work out the tension, but her broad shoulders remained stiff. Her dark hair was damp with sweat, sticking to the back of her neck, a testament to the effort she had put into the battle.

“Karlach?” you called softly, not wanting to startle her.

She turned her head slightly, her red eyes catching the glow of the campfire. Her smile was as bright as ever, though a little tired around the edges.

“Hey, babe,” she greeted, her voice warm but with an undertone of exhaustion. “Everything alright?”

You smiled softly, stepping closer. “I could ask you the same thing. You look tense.”

Karlach chuckled, though it was a little forced. “Yeah, you know, just… still buzzing from the fight. Hard to wind down sometimes.”

You stopped just behind her, taking in the sight of her muscular frame, the tension evident in every line of her body.

“I was thinking,” you said gently, “maybe I could help with that. How about a massage?”

Karlach froze for a moment, as if the offer had caught her completely off guard. She glanced over her shoulder at you, her eyes wide, searching your face for any hint of insincerity. But all she found was genuine concern and affection.

“A massage?” she repeated, her voice soft, almost incredulous. “For me?”

You nodded, stepping around to kneel in front of her. “You’ve been through so much, Karlach. You deserve a little kindness, a little… love. Let me help.”

Her breath hitched slightly at your words, and she blinked rapidly, as if trying to process the offer. The idea of someone willingly wanting to touch her—especially after everything she had been through—was still something she was getting used to. Her time in Avernus had left her starved for contact, and even now, with her engine stabilized, she hesitated to ask for it.

“I… I’d love that,” she finally whispered, her voice thick with emotion. “But only if you’re sure. I don’t want to—”

“Shh,” you interrupted softly, reaching up to gently brush a strand of hair from her face. “I’m sure. Just relax, okay?”

Karlach let out a shaky breath, nodding as she turned to sit with her back to you. Her shoulders were still tense, but she trusted you completely, and that trust meant the world to you. You moved to sit behind her, your hands hovering over her shoulders for a moment before gently resting them on her warm skin.

The moment your hands touched her, Karlach let out a soft gasp. It wasn’t just the sensation of your fingers—it was the fact that she could feel you, that you wanted to touch her. It had been so long since she’d felt anything like this, so long since anyone had cared enough to offer her something so simple, yet so profound.

You began to knead her shoulders slowly, working your thumbs into the tight muscles. Karlach’s body was solid, sculpted from years of battle and hardship, but under your touch, you could feel her slowly begin to relax. Her head dipped forward slightly, and she let out a long, quiet sigh.

“Gods, that feels… amazing,” she murmured, her voice soft and full of gratitude. “I didn’t realize how much I needed this.”

You smiled softly, your hands continuing their gentle work, moving from her shoulders down her back, working out the knots of tension. “You carry so much weight, Karlach. You never let yourself rest.”

She chuckled quietly, though there was a hint of sadness in it. “Old habits die hard, I guess.”

Your hands stilled for a moment, and you leaned forward, resting your cheek against her shoulder. “You don’t have to carry everything alone anymore, you know. I’m here. We’re all here.”

Karlach was quiet for a moment, her breath shallow as she processed your words. Slowly, she turned her head, looking over her shoulder at you with an expression so vulnerable, it nearly broke your heart.

“I don’t know what I did to deserve someone like you,” she whispered, her voice barely audible. “But I’m so damn glad you’re here.”

You smiled, pressing a soft kiss to her shoulder before resuming your massage. “You deserve all the love in the world, Karlach. Don’t ever doubt that.”

Karlach didn’t respond right away, but you could feel the way her body relaxed further under your touch, the way her breathing deepened as she let herself surrender to the moment. She had gone so long without affection, without comfort, that even this small gesture meant everything to her.

By the time you finished, Karlach was nearly limp with relaxation, her muscles no longer tense and rigid. She let out a contented sigh as you finally pulled your hands away, leaning back against her bedroll.

“You’re amazing, you know that?” Karlach murmured, her voice soft and full of warmth.

You chuckled, brushing a hand through her hair. “I could say the same about you.”

Karlach shifted, turning to face you fully. Her eyes were soft, filled with gratitude and something deeper, something that made your heart swell. She reached out, pulling you into a gentle embrace, her strong arms wrapping around you as if she never wanted to let go.

For a moment, neither of you said anything, simply holding each other in the quiet of the night. It was a moment of peace, of connection, something Karlach had been missing for so long—and now, she had it with you.

“Truly, I don’t know what I’d do without you,” Karlach whispered, her voice thick with emotion.

You smiled, resting your head against her chest, feeling the steady rhythm of her heart beneath your cheek. “You’ll never have to find out.”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Astarion:

The evening air was cool as it drifted through the camp, the last rays of the sun fading into twilight. The fire crackled softly, casting a warm, flickering glow over the tents and figures scattered around the campsite. You sat quietly by the fire, your eyes drifting toward Astarion, who was sitting a little distance away, his back to a tree. He hadn’t said much since the battle earlier, his usual playful banter and flirtatious remarks replaced by a quiet, almost brooding silence.

You could see it in the way he sat—his shoulders tense, his jaw clenched, fingers absentmindedly tracing the hilt of his dagger. It was a stark contrast to the usual confident, even cocky demeanor he carried himself with.

It wasn’t just the physical toll of the fight weighing on him, you realized. Something else was gnawing at him, something deeper. You knew how much he hated feeling out of control, how the years under Cazador had shaped him, made him wary of letting anyone too close unless he was in charge of the situation. Now you were in the lower city, those feelings were most likely bombarding him.

Your heart ached for him. You had been together for some time now, your relationship blossoming slowly as Astarion learned to trust you—learned to accept the tenderness you offered him, despite his instinct to shield himself from vulnerability. But even so, moments like this, when he seemed trapped in his own thoughts, still reminded you of how much he had endured, how long he had gone without the kind of affection most took for granted.

You stood up, quietly making your way over to him. He didn’t notice you at first, too lost in his own thoughts, but when you gently placed a hand on his shoulder, he flinched slightly, his body tensing further before he realized it was you. He looked up, his ruby eyes meeting yours, a flicker of surprise and something else—something softer—crossing his features.

“Darling,” he greeted, though his voice lacked its usual lightness. “What’s the matter? Come to make sure I haven’t brooded myself into oblivion?”

You offered him a small smile, kneeling beside him. “I’m more worried about you. You’ve been quiet… and tense.”

Astarion’s lips twitched into a half-hearted smirk, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Oh, you know me. Always dramatic, always brooding about something. It’s nothing you need to worry your pretty little head about.”

But you didn’t miss the way his hand clenched a little tighter around the dagger, the subtle tension in his muscles. He might try to play it off with a joke, but you could see through the act—see the exhaustion beneath it, both physical and emotional.

“I can help, you know,” you said softly, placing your hand over his. “If you’d let me.”

Astarion raised an eyebrow, though his curiosity was piqued. “Help? And how exactly do you propose to do that?”

You smiled gently, your thumb brushing over his knuckles. “A massage. You look tense, and I think it might help you relax.”

For a moment, Astarion just stared at you, his expression unreadable. It was clear the idea caught him off guard, the offer of something so simple, so innocent, something that had no ulterior motive behind it other than wanting to ease his discomfort. He blinked, his eyes narrowing slightly as if he were trying to gauge whether you were serious.

“A massage?” he echoed, his voice laced with both skepticism and curiosity. “Why, darling, I didn’t realize you were offering such intimate services.”

You could tell he was trying to turn it into a joke, to deflect from the vulnerability of the moment, but you weren’t about to let him brush it off so easily. You leaned in a little closer, your voice soft but firm. “I’m serious, Astarion. Just… let me take care of you. No expectations, no strings attached. Just because I want to.”

His expression faltered for a moment, the mask slipping as he studied your face, searching for any sign of pity or insincerity. But all he found was the same quiet concern, the same affection that you always showed him. Slowly, almost reluctantly, he nodded.

“All right,” he said softly, his voice barely above a whisper. “But if you try anything cheeky, I’m holding you responsible for my utter lack of self-control.”

You chuckled softly, shaking your head as you moved behind him. “Just relax.”

Astarion sat up a little straighter, his shoulders still tense as you gently placed your hands on them. You could feel the tightness in his muscles immediately, the way they were coiled with stress and tension. You began to work your fingers into the knots, starting gently at first, gauging his reaction. His skin was cool to the touch, but you could feel the way his body responded to your touch—the way he slowly, hesitantly began to relax beneath your hands.

At first, Astarion remained quiet, his breathing shallow, as if he didn’t quite know how to react to the sensation. It was clear that this kind of touch—gentle, caring, without any ulterior motive—was still unfamiliar to him. For so long, any physical contact had been either violent or manipulative, a tool used against him rather than something given out of love.

But as your hands continued their work, massaging his shoulders and down his back, you were careful with his scars, you didn't want to highlight them, to ruin the moment for him, but eventually you felt him begin to loosen up. His breathing grew deeper, his posture less rigid, and a soft sigh escaped his lips. His head dipped forward slightly, and for the first time in what felt like ages, he let himself truly relax.

“Gods,” Astarion whispered, his voice filled with something akin to wonder. “I didn’t realize how much I… needed this.”

You smiled softly, your hands moving to gently knead the muscles at the base of his neck. “You deserve it, Astarion. You deserve to be taken care of.”

Astarion let out another quiet sigh, his body leaning back into your touch as if he couldn’t help himself. He was silent for a long moment, and when he finally spoke again, his voice was softer, more vulnerable than you’d ever heard it before.

“I’ve gone so long without…” He trailed off, swallowing hard. “Without this. Without… someone who cared enough to offer it.”

Your heart ached at his words, at the raw emotion you could hear in his voice. You leaned forward, pressing a soft kiss to the top of his head.

“You have me now,” you whispered. “And I’m not going anywhere.”

Astarion closed his eyes, his body completely relaxing into your hands now, as if the weight of the world had finally been lifted from his shoulders. He leaned back against you, letting you hold him, his head resting against your chest as your arms wrapped around him from behind.

For a long time, neither of you spoke, simply content to be in each other’s presence, to share this moment of quiet intimacy. Astarion’s breathing was slow and steady now, his usual guarded walls lowered, if only for a little while. You held him close, your fingers gently stroking through his hair, and you could feel the way his heart began to beat a little slower, a little more peacefully.

“Thank you,” he whispered after a long while, his voice filled with emotion. “For this. For… everything.”

You pressed another kiss to his temple, your lips brushing against his skin. “Always, Astarion.”

You knew that no matter how hard it might be for him to accept, no matter how many walls he still had up, you would be there for him—offering him the love and comfort he had been denied for so long. Because he deserved it. And you would make sure he never had to doubt that again.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Wyll:

The moon hung low in the sky, casting a gentle silver light over the camp. The day had been long, filled with battles and plans, but even in the moments of respite, Wyll had barely allowed himself to rest. You noticed him sitting by the fire, his back straight, his body tense—always ready, always vigilant. It had been days since you'd seen him truly relax, and it was beginning to take its toll. His usually warm smile had been dimmed by worry, and there was a weight in his shoulders that hadn’t been there before.

He had been working so hard to help everyone, to be the hero he believed he needed to be, but something else lingered in the way he carried himself. It was subtle—the way he sometimes avoided his reflection, the way his hand would linger on the ridges and horns that now adorned his forehead and arms. Wyll’s transformation had been jarring, and though he tried to hide it, you could tell it weighed on him.

You stood and made your way over to him, sitting down by his side. He glanced at you, giving a small smile, though it didn’t reach his eyes.

"Hey," you said softly, reaching out to gently touch his arm. "You’ve been working hard again, haven’t you?"

Wyll chuckled, though it sounded tired. "Someone has to, love. There’s always something that needs doing, always someone who needs help. I can’t just sit still when there’s work to be done."

"You’re allowed to rest too, you know," you said, your thumb tracing small circles on his arm. "You don’t have to carry everything on your own."

He let out a small sigh, his hand moving up to rub at the ridges on his forehead, his fingers brushing against the small horns that had appeared after his transformation. There was something hesitant in the way he touched them, as though he still wasn’t sure they were truly a part of him.

"I’m not the same, am I?" he said quietly, his voice barely above a whisper. "I look in the mirror sometimes, and I don’t even recognize myself anymore. The horns, the… bumps. I wonder if people will see me as a monster now."

His words hit you hard. Wyll, the man who had always been so confident, so noble, was doubting himself—doubting how the world would see him. You could see it in the way he held himself now, as if he was trying to hide parts of himself, as if he was unsure whether he was still the same person.

You shifted closer, gently taking his hand in yours. "You’re not a monster, Wyll. Not even close."

He gave a small, almost bitter laugh. "That’s kind of you to say, but it doesn’t change what I see when I look in the mirror. These horns, this… fiendish body. I can’t help but wonder how long it’ll be before people stop seeing Wyll the Blade of Frontiers and start seeing a creature instead."

You frowned, your heart aching for him. He had gone through so much, sacrificed so much, and yet here he was, doubting his own worth because of changes he couldn’t control. You leaned forward, your voice gentle but firm.

"I see Wyll. I see the man who fights for what’s right, who stands up for the people who can’t protect themselves. I see the man who would sacrifice anything for those he loves, who’s kind and strong and full of light. That’s who I see."

Wyll turned to you, his eyes searching your face, as if trying to find some semblance of truth in your words. Slowly, you moved behind him, placing your hands on his shoulders, feeling the tension in his muscles.

"Let me help you relax," you said softly. "You’ve been carrying so much. Let me take care of you for a little while."

Wyll hesitated for a moment, but then nodded, leaning back slightly as you began to gently massage his shoulders. His body was tense, muscles tight from days of strain, but as your hands worked over his shoulders and down his back, you felt him slowly begin to relax under your touch.

Your fingers worked gently but firmly, kneading the knots in his muscles, and with each pass, you could feel the tension melting away. Wyll let out a soft sigh, his body sinking further into relaxation as you continued.

"You’ve always been so strong, Wyll," you said quietly, your hands moving to massage the base of his neck. "Not just physically, but in everything you do. You care so much, and you give so much of yourself to others. But you don’t have to carry it all alone. I’m here too, and I love every part of you—horns, ridges, everything."

Wyll’s breath hitched slightly, and you could feel him tense up again, though this time it was different. There was emotion behind it, a vulnerability that he rarely showed.

"You… you really mean that?" he asked, his voice quieter now, almost unsure.

You smiled, leaning down to press a soft kiss to the top of his head. "I do. Every part of you is worthy of love, Wyll. You’ve given so much of yourself to the world, and now it’s time for you to let someone love you for exactly who you are."

Wyll was quiet for a long moment, and when he finally spoke again, his voice was thick with emotion. "I didn’t realize how much I needed to hear that."

You continued massaging his back, your hands moving down to his lower back, working out the last of the tension. Wyll let out a deep sigh, his body fully relaxing now as he leaned back into your touch.

"You’re not alone, Wyll," you whispered, your hands still gently working over his skin. "And you never will be. I love every part of you, and nothing will ever change that."

Wyll turned his head slightly, looking up at you with a soft, grateful smile.

"Thank you," he whispered, his voice filled with warmth. "I don’t know what I did to deserve you."

You smiled, your fingers brushing through his hair gently. "You don’t have to do anything, Wyll. Just be yourself. That’s more than enough."

For the first time in what felt like days, Wyll truly smiled—a genuine, soft smile that reached his eyes. And as you sat there together, the weight of the world seemed a little lighter, if only for a moment.

You continued to massage his back, your hands gentle but firm, and Wyll leaned back into you, his body completely at ease. He wasn’t just the Blade of Frontiers anymore. He was Wyll—your Wyll, and that was more than enough for both of you.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Gods now I want a massage. Hope you guys enjoyed it !! - Seluney xox

If you want to support me in other ways | Help keep this moonmaiden caffeinated x

[lowkeyrobin]

yesss love, just saw that ur accepting requests heheheh 🥰🥰

Could I request a Minho x fem reader one, where the gladers are all chilling and having fun together by a lake in the deadheads (similar vibes to bonfire night) and some gladers decide to give her a “proper greenie welcome” by picking her up and throwing her in the lake. However, she can’t swim and tries to resist them but they don’t believe her so still throw her in. She almost drowns, crying for help and Minho jumps in and rescues her. Minho carries her out, and gets mad at them, almost picking a fight.

From here she sees Minho in a different light, could end in spice, if you’re willing, if not then it’s algds hehe 🙈

nah this is so cute lol ; also I do only write they/them / gn readers so I apologize 😭😭 but I'll try and not really specify gender at all to keep it really ambiguous ; i also dont write smut but i tried to make it a little like?? makeout? idk ; thank you for requesting, hope you enjoy! ; also I've seen at least one of ur other reqs to other creators and they're so 🙏🙏 trust me when I say writers love u

MINHO ; sweet memory

summary ; you find yourself looking at minho in a new light after almost drowning

warnings ; language, almost drowning, slightly heated kissing (?)

track ; wildflower and barley, hozier & allison russell

word count ; 1.7k

masterlist

You were the newest Greenie welcomed to the Glade. But, lucky for you, you remembered your name on your first night here. The amnesia was still getting you good here and there, but by the time the sun set on your second night, you were adapting well enough. A large group of you Gladers sit out on some logs in the Deadheads, the sun softly setting over the horizon of the maze walls as you sit around a little bonfire.

A small kind of lake structure sits beside the group, the soft sound of the streaming water filling your ears instead of all the other boys around you talking and chattering over drinks. You sit beside Minho, the Keeper of the Runners, sharing a drink with him. You took small sips here and there, just trying to fit in with the others under the blanket of trees and brush around you. Minho sits the glass jar back on the ground between his left leg and your right leg, talking to Fry a few feet away.

You're more focused on the water than anything else now as the boys talk loudly.

"What's the Greenie looking at?" Gally asks, an eyebrow raised as he talks in almost a mumble, looking between a few other Gladers.

Newt, sitting beside Fry, shrugs. Ben looks over at you, studying the dazed look in your eyes.

"Shank seems focused on the water," Ben speaks, giving a little shrug.

Gally's eyes light up as some invisible light bulb flicks on in his head. "Why don't we give them a proper Greenie welcome?"

"What're you suggesting, shuckface?" Jack sighs, sitting beside Gally.

A smirk tugs at the wannabe tough-guy's lips as he looks at you. You don't notice, as you're still zoned out, staring at the water.

"Let's throw them into the water for a minute"

Gally's plan had been set into motion behind mostly everyone's backs. Ben didn't say a word, considering he didn't actually think they'd be mean enough to throw the newest Greenie into that deep water. Newt and Fry hadn't heard as they'd been bickering about food, and the others, Winston, Minho, Eric, Adam, and Scott hadn't heard either.

Gally stands up, setting his special drink down. Jack, and Doug follow his actions, standing up and setting their definitely alcoholic beverages down. They sneak their way over to you, and stand over you, their shadows cast over you as well due to the fire.

You look up at them, shaking yourself out of your trance-like state.

"Can I help you?" You ask kindly, not wanting to start any drama.

Gally grabs you by the shoes, then Jack and Doug lift you up at your shoulders. They pull you toward the water, where you try and squirm out of their grip and fight back, but are unable to. The attention of the others is caught as they watch and laugh, thinking that your desperation to get away is to just not get wet and cold, unknowing that you couldn't swim.

Minho is the only one concerned, not knowing he was the only one to know that you couldn't swim. You'd brought it up when you first met him, explaining how you weren't much of a special soul, and that you couldn't swim or climb trees, or run that fast like some others could. It was a little dimwitted comment that clouded his vision in the moment.

"No, no, no, please! Please put me down!" For some reason, you didn't want to admit that you couldn't swim.

Doug hands over your other shoulder to Jack so he and Gally could rock and throw you into the water, standing off to the side. You continue to shout in protest as they begin rocking you side to side like they were reading a jump-in jump rope.

You look down at the water, fairly still, but clearly deep. You wouldn't be landing on rocks and busting your ass, you'd be drowning in five seconds if they didn't put you down.

Minho stands up, deciding to intervene as he sets his drink down. "Hey!"

"I can't swim! Put me down!-"

They toss you into the water, listening to your shriek of terror as the water splashes beneath your crashing weight. You reach your arms up as you'd fallen in on your rear, and kick your feet rapidly under you, unable to feel the bottom on your feet.

Being soaking wet was the least of your worries as you felt the water rush into your mouth, struggling to keep your head above the surface. You choke up the dirty, muddy water, trying to use any strength you had left in you to call for help and keep yourself floating.

Minho, now wide-eyed, quickly jumps in after you, realizing you truly couldn't swim. The water splashes under his weight like it did yours, and by the time he resurfaces, you'd fallen under the surface, water quickly filling up your lungs.

Newt quickly rushes forward, Frypan and Ben following him. Newt shoves Gally.

"What're you thinkin' klunkhead?! They said they couldn't swim, yet you throw them in that deep water!" He shouts, looking for an answer or at least some remorse.

Minho pulls you out of the water, the help of Fry and Ben leading you back up to land. You cough up a fair amount of water, completely dripping wet. Your clothes cling to your cold skin, weighing ten times their normal weight.

"What is wrong with you? Are you that shuckin' stupid?!"

Fry pulls Newt away from Gally before he potentially ends up in the slammer. Doug and Jack share unsympathetic looks, same as Gally. He uses the excuse that he didn't know until you shouted it at the last second, and it was just an innocent prank.

The second in command steps away from the three boys, rushing to your aid. Your legs hang over the little ledge, feet still emerged in the water. Minho is slapping your back, trying to help you cough all the water in your lungs and throat out.

Minho rubs your back softly as you finish coughing, your face pale, your eyes clearly showing the adrenaline rush and panic.

"You need the Med-Jacks, Greenie?" The blonde asks, one knee in the dirt while the other leg supports him.

You shake your head no, leaning forward as you pound at your chest and cough on command, wanting to make sure your airway was clear of any water or debris. Minho quickly stands up, stomping toward Gally to repeat the same things as Newt, the two essentially swapping roles.

"Are you stupid? Can't you leave anyone alone?!"

"It was a joke!"

"A joke that could've killed someone, Gally!"

You share a look with Newt.

"Thanks for like, helping me, by the way" You softly speak to Minho.

The group is now departing the Deadheads, seeing as the moon indicates that it's about one in the morning by now. The fire is slowly dying out, crackling as dead leaves crush under your feet while you walk away. You and the runner lag behind a bit, wanting to stay far away from Gally and his friends. Newt leads their way, making sure you're all accounted for. Gally, Doug, and Jack would only have to hope that the blonde wouldn't tell on them to Alby in the morning.

Minho nods in response to your thanks. "Yeah, of course. I mean, I know you can't swim, and it just." He holds his hands up to his head, mimicking an explosion as he opens them. "Sorry about them, really. I think they were just trying to innocently mess with you cause they didn't know, but they should've at least asked. They know that water is deep"

You nod, your hands stuffed in your pockets. You're still damp, but not as cold and not as wet, thanks to the fire. Luckily for all of you, Zart and Jeff didn't have to wake up at that hour to tend to you. They would've killed you all for that.

"Thanks for being nice to me and stuff, I appreciate it," you comment, feeling like you aren't remorseful or thankful enough as he'd probably saved your life.

"It's cool, Y/n." He lightly smiles, making sure you're able to see it.

The fact he called you by your actual name and not Greenie made butterflies rise in your stomach. You didn't even know why, just the thought of fitting in, with him, was infatuating. Your name on his tongue sounded like the most beautiful song you'd ever heard, like your brain was going to melt if you heard it again.

You both stop in your tracks, putting space between you two and the rest of the group, now at the edge of the Deadheads. You share soft smiles, exploring each other's eyes for some sort of look, which you mutually shared.

You lean against the tree behind you, trying to read his expression as he does the same. He's inches away, like he's taunting you.

"I think you owe me, actually," He smiles. Christ, he's really gonna dangle that over your head.

"How do you want me to repay you?" You ask with a soft chuckle. "Not much I can do"

He shrugs, leaning in a little closer. When he speaks, it's just above a whisper, sending a shiver up your spine. "I know that you know how use those lips of yours"

You quickly place your hands on his cheeks, closing the distance between your lips. His hands dig into your waist, pinning you against the tree. Your left hand transfers from his cheek and into his hair, tangling your fingers in it. You feel him melt into your lips, unable to not pull you any closer.

You can feel the bruises he's creating against your lips, the way he's draining your lungs of air for the second time tonight.

He pulls away, needing to control himself. "Thanks, Y/n." He smiles before jogging away, wanting to catch up before Newt discovered their lack of presence.

You watch as he jogs away, then walk behind him as he's a few yards away, a goofy smile on your face.

"Thanks, Minho," you whisper under your breath.

[scrappedidea]

I don't know if you've noticed but i usually just keep my thoughts on your posts (or really any post) to the tags, but since this is my ask ill properly put my thoughts in full here.

I don't know how to put a read more prompt but i didn't realize how much i typed until i scrolled back up lol. Don't feel the need to go over this in detail, its just nice to write down your thoughts sometimes. This is where id put the read more if i knew how so you've been warned. >:)

I hadn't actually logged into the game to check out the details of the new skilltrees until tonight as i saw the news as i was going to bed yesterday and had to work today. I wrote the above ask based off of a quick overview i saw online and missed a few details, but my thoughts are mostly unchanged.

I am mostly the opposite of how you play, i rush to get to the dangerous late game, and usually end up getting bored of a world after i've set up a proper base with late game materials and start all over again. So i can give the perspective of his skills when it comes to the practicality of efficiently progressing through the game's story content and boss fights.

Before the skilltree Wortox was, and still kinda is, the worst character for my play style, but i love his design and quotes so i stubbornly stuck with him. His only real strength for an experienced player that another character cant do better is group healing, which is completely useless to a solo player like me.

When it comes to teleporting he's beat by Wanda, Winona, and lazy explorers, he had no way to deal increased damage despite being heavily incentivized through his reliance on souls to be in constant combat, and he doesn't work or move faster than the average character either. He has two of the harshest downsides in exchange for a resource (souls) that are made completely redundant by basic food management and intelligent use of late game items.

Wortox's skill tree as of this first patch addresses.... none of these issues. It offers a couple bandaids that make his downsides a little easier to work around but don't actually warrant using him over characters with more apparent positives or a more substantially changed gameplay style.

The decoys are useless as escaping enemies and dangerous situations is usually done just fine with a single soul hop and soul echo, so the extra distraction is redundant. The damage they do at tier 3 is so infrequent and small that there isn't much point in spending 3 points on them.

Soul thief 1 and 2 are worthless as if you are playing alone all souls produced around you are caused by you. Increasing the range at which souls spawn around you makes absolutely no sense as you have to be present at the death of an enemy to benefit from the soul anyway.

Soul pierce 1 and 2 are honestly insulting due to the fact that if you are in a tough fight there isn't going to be any stray souls around to increase your damage. If you're surrounded by souls it means that you already killed what you were fighting. i literally don't even understand the concept they were going for here, dealing damage... by killing your target... whats the point? Even in crowd control situations where you're fighting a large group of enemies, it doesn't do substantial enough damage in large enough area to warrant putting yourself in danger to sneak in a kill amongst a group of enemies that will likely stun lock and kill you in the attempt!!! Not even to mention the fact that as you progress into the game more and more enemies don't even drop souls in the first place!!! >:( This is the skill idea that i most want to be removed and replaced with an actually good and easily usable area of effect attack, as every other character that has gotten a skill tree either already had an area of effect attack (and usually got expanded upon in their tree) or had one added through skills.

The Knabsack and Soul Jar are soooooo close to being cool and useful, but as it stands, it is an absurd ask to get the most out of these items. The Knabsack as it is currently is just a more convoluted and arguably more expensive spear. It only does 36 damage (the same as a spear) without the absurd requirement of 5 fully filled soul jars in your inventory. The recipe isn't all that expensive and if you're playing Wortox as most people do (glued to bee hives and spider dens) you'll have an abundance of silk to make as many sacks as you want.... but come on, Wortox is the single most deserving character of an easily repairable all purpose weapon like Wanda and Wigfrid have. It is extremely annoying spending all your pigskin on hambats, but there really isn't a better option as Wortox needs a durable weapon to maintain his soul count. The soul jars are a nice idea but forcing the player to dedicate 6 inventory slots (5 jars and a sack) to a glorified dark sword is a ridiculous hoop to jump through! Its not like Wortox has any other use for the abundance of nightmare fuel you get by choosing to subsist off of the sanity draining souls, so you might as well just save the inventory space and use a dark sword! While I'm at it the fact that the soul jars have to be full (Which adds up to 200 souls with 5 jars!!!!!) completely voids the purpose of an item to store souls for later use! You get No extra damage from a soul jar unless it holds its max of 40 souls, so if you want to make the most of the Knabsack (which only has 200 durability(for reference a spear has 150 durability and a dark sword has 100)) you MUST keep the jar full! This boils down to stockpiling a huge horde of souls that you are dis-incentivized from actually using for soul hops, healing, or hunger!

Finishing my tirade on the skills i think are bad enough to be completely reworked, we get to the nice side of the tree which is... better but not by much than the naughty side.

I'm not going to spend too much time on reaching souls 1 and 2, and soul bastion 1 and 2, as these are useless to a solo player. i will say though that Wortox isn't competing with any other character for area of effect healing, and is more that adequate with his base kit to keep a group of survivors fully healed with little effort. Spending 4 points on skills that are, at best, a minor convenience, is quite the wasted potential.

Also useless to a solo player, Lifebringer 1 through 3 are actually quite nice for a group I would imagine. I'm not a huge fan of Klei adding character specific revive options given that if a group of players are dying so frequently that they feel the need to keep a revive in their back pocket... they can just turn on the endless world setting and revive at the postern. Regardless, i can see the 3rd tier of this skill being fun and useful to groups for not getting left behind by a hoppy Wortox friend. I wish it didn't take up 3 skills and more over I wish it had atleast one selfish use case. a small thing I think would be neat is if you could use this item like Wanda's Rift Watch. If Wortox used it he could choose a place to open a portal that lasts for like 30 seconds. This would be useful for transporting a whole team of players, and/or moving suspicious marbles or moon alters!

For the last of the non affinity skills we end on lifted spirits, capricious movement, and reverberation. Finally a good one! My only complaint is that these should not be spread over 4 skills but the effect is quite nice for extended play-throughs. Reducing a cross map teleport to 10 souls on a fully explored map is a huge cost reduction and will save a lot of time, allowing you to actually get places faster and not spend all of your time smacking bees and spiders to fuel your hops! The extra time with a soul echo is also quite useful for using soul hops in combat scenarios, though it is still clear to me that Klei really hasn't thought the practical use of these hops through... Using soul hops in combat removes the usefulness of a speed bonus as you don't need to kite with the invulnerability granted by the hopping animation. The speed is nice for the early days exploring the surface, but once you have the surface mapped you don't really have a practical use for the speed bonus as you'll just use the map teleport once you've already been to a location once.

I basically already gave my full thoughts on the pan flute skills in the tags of another one of your posts. An occasional free pan flute use is worth a skill point. Longer sleep time and lost aggro though? Not so much.

We end on the affinities and.... yeah they're terrible. Or at the very least they're terrible lore wise. I hate the fact that Wortox, the only character who isn't directly aligned with Tenebrau or Alter (Wormwood), Who has Genuine Inner Magic and a solid personal understanding of the Ancient magics of the Constant, Who doesn't just use machines (Winona, Wilson, Wagstaff, Wanda, WX) or boons granted through a pact with the nightmare throne (ie Charlie or any of the characters brought in by Maxwell specifically(Willow, Wes, Wickerbottom, Wigfrid, Wendy, Wolfgang)) needs Wagstaff or Charlie's assistance to make use of shadow and lunar magic. Bullshit. At the very least just remove the lines about the ''shadow queen'' and ''cryptic founder''.

Getting to the actual skills though, they aren't great gameplay wise either. The lunar skill allows him to very specifically avoid a Single Attack coming from a shadow aligned mob if a soul echo is active, while wearing BrightShade armor. This is so niche it would be hard to make use of even if you were TRYING to get it to work. Realistically if you have a soul echo active you would just use the invulnerability frames granted by the hopping animation or just hop out of the way like i mentioned previously. And really, Wortox is one of the easiest characters to stay alive with, due to the mass amounts of healing he can provide. Tanking 1 (one) hit from a shadow mob while wearing planar armor? Who cares?

The shadow perk is a good bit better than the lunar perk but also has a glaring issue. Similarly to the lunar perk you have to have a soul echo active and be holding a shadow reaper. Hitting an enemy with the shadow reaper while a soul echo is active will double the damage for that hit. This yet again incentivizes you to use soul hops to dodge attacks and works quite well with the hit streak mechanic that the void cowl and shadow reaper have. The issue is, WE JUST INTRODUCED A WEAPON THAT'S STRICTLY BETTER THAN THE REAPER!!!! Why restrict him to a weapon that has already lost its crown as the highest damaging weapon???????? I double checked and the shadow maul introduced in the Depths of Duplicity Does Not Work with Wortox's affinity skill. To add insult to injury they didn't even add new dialog from the shadow reaper when wielded by Wortox. But they did add character specific dialog to the Maul when Woodie is wielding it.

I know you were opposed to the idea of an affinity skill at all for Wortox but i knew for a fact that he was going to get one like everyone else, it just wouldn't make sense with the whole idea behind the plot Klei is building up surrounding ''Them". I'm personally fine with the affinity skills but frankly I'm annoyed that they are often completely restricted to Post Game progression. the only character who gets an affinity skill that's actually useful before you get access to planar gear is Willow and she had the best skill tree so far.

That mostly wraps up my thoughts but WOW I wrote a lot more in an hour than I thought! If you actually read to the end of this, Thank you. I doubt a lot of what i said will even make full sense to someone who plays much differently than i do but i hope it was insightful? There is a good chance a lot of what i just ranted about will be fixed by the time the update leaves beta so i put my whole soul (haha soul get it) out there for nothing but i had fun writing this. Yet again Thanks for giving me an outlet for this part of my brain i have dedicated a startling amount of time to. I spent my whole work day thinking this through for some reason. Your art is great and i wish you a good approaching holiday season.

Wortox skilltree beta is here, and with the first patch, it's looking grim in my opinion :/

They expect you to dedicate 7 inventory slots to expensive gear to get damage equal to a darksword, no consistant area of effect damage like other characters got, affinities aligned with charlie and wagstaff that are exclusive to post rift gear, and worst of all they made the whole tree into a moral choice. So now I have to make him mean if I want more damage :(

Honestly kinda devastated because I doubt they'll make any big change, just small number tweaks, and it's just really underwhelming. I know you're more of an atmospheric player than a fighter, so you'll have no reason to choose the naughty side. I hope this isn't too intrusive, but there's no one else I can think of to confide in this very niche obsession of mine.

Hey, your good! My inbox is always open for various Wortox thoughts :)

I've had a bit of a play around with the new skills tonight, and i gotta preface my thoughts with this; You are correct i am a very atmospheric player, i can't fight and i dont go in the caves, i generally just play to build a fun base and mess around so a lot of the intricacies of the gameplay aspects of his skilltree will be completely lost on me

I like alot of the imagery it puts in my head, the souls sparking at his feet when he gets the speedboost, the little taunt the decoy does, I like the idea of Wortox crafting an item to teleport his friends around, it's just fun :)

I don't tend to mind the moral split, its phrased in a silly enough way to not make it seem overly evil (though some of the new naughty soul quotes eer a bit on the overly malicious side for his character for me) and also the fact that your not locked out of either side if you pick skills from one side, but i can def see why it'd put someone off!

I think overall i'm pretty neutral, i like the character of his skilltree, but I'm a tad miffed that it is so focused on souls, but for it just focusing on souls, it's not quite as bad as it could have been, however annoyed i am that they did end up giving him alignments but such is life

[thelostcityofsugarteara]

Well you asked for one so, White lily with an overprotective s/o because they lost someone they loved in the past?

oh dear anon… thank you… i’ll give you burritos at the end <3 i decided to write this as a oneshot / scenario thingy, i hope you don’t mind :) this has really vague spoilers for 8-30 and onwards !! i think it’s slightly out of character, sorry :(

white lily with an overprotective s/o because they lost someone important to them in the past oneshot :)

“white lily, how could you be so reckless ?! you nearly got yourself killed out there !!” you said to your girlfriend, obviously scared for her health & safety.

“i’m sorry dear, but you know how it is…” white lily replied, “but even if i do get injured, pure vanilla is always there to heal me, so you need not worry about my injuries.” the attempt at calming you was poor, but white lily was not thinking her words out properly. the adrenaline was still in her body, even though the battle had ended. she was sat on the grassy ground, with you standing beside her, looking down to her. white lily could see you were distressed and she felt bad, but she couldn’t console you the way she wanted to right now.

she had gotten tossed by a large cake hound while she was performing one of her spells. it had snuck up behind her and she didn’t notice it’s presence until it was too late. it was oversized, bigger than it was supposed to be. white lily had wanted to take it in for research, but dark cacao had smashed it with the grapejam chocoblade before she could tell him that. pure vanilla healed her of her injuries and she was soon on the battlefield again.

you had learned of the fight soon after it began and started making your way to the site, running to make sure your girlfriend was ok. you had arrived after the battle had ended to see white lily sat down, hollyberry calming her down the best should could. you rushed over, your protective instinct kicking in.

“it doesn’t matter that you get healed after ! what matters is that you don’t get hurt at all !” you sighed. you knew your girlfriend was one of the five heroes, but you still cared deeply for her safety.

“y/n, i’m alright ! please, don’t worry about me. shall we make our way home now ? it’ll be getting dark before long.” white lily suggested, getting up from the ground and taking her hand in yours. she glanced over to her friends, giving them a silent wave of her right hand before turning to you.

“let’s.” you said to your girlfriend, happy to get away from the scene in front of you.

as you walked through the forest, you scolded your girlfriend again for her recklessness and unawareness. white lily listened to you intently, and stopped walking when you let out a small gasp for air, indicating that you were crying.

“my dear, what’s wrong ? why are you crying…?” white lily’s voice was barely above a whisper, but you heard it clearly, perhaps due to the silentness of the forest. forget-me-nots scattered the ground, the baby blue of the petals complimenting the green of the grass beneath you & white lily.

“it’s just… seeing you injured, or knowing that you’ve been injured… it makes me scared. i don’t want to lose you. i’ve… already lost someone. i really don’t wanna lose you.” you tell your girlfriend.

white lily freezes. she understands your overprotectiveness fully now. she had known that you had lost someone in the past, but her knowledge was of it was very vague and she didn’t want to pry. she wrapped her arms around your back, pulling you into a hug. it wasn’t really tight, but it wasn’t loose either. she held you as you cried, whispering that you’ll never lose her & that she’ll always remain by your side, no matter what.

she asked you to sit down with her on a log that was between two large oak trees, and smiled as she told you that it would be ok, that she was never leaving. not at all.

not at all…

THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR THIS REQUEST. AHHHHH !! i believe this is my first time writing a oneshot so i hope i did well. i might write a part two for this if anyone wants me to…

here’s your burritos !! 🌯🌯🌯🌯🌯🌯🌯🌯🌯🌯🌯🌯🌯🌯🌯🌯🌯🌯🌯🌯🌯🌯🌯🌯🌯🌯🌯🌯

[mprosperossprite]

This post contains discussion of racism, misogyny, and intersection of these ideas in the TOG fandom.

Though the conversation around the racist tropes sometimes employed in depicting Joe is valuable and important, I do not have anything productive to add to that particular conversation. Instead, this post aims to examine the ways in which Nile has largely been overlooked by fan created content for The Old Guard and suggest ways in which each of us as individuals might make this fandom a more inclusive place.

One last preamble: I’m an white woman. I am speaking here from a place of ally-ship. And I am still learning how to best be an anti-racist ally in all elements of my life. This post is coming from the best of my knowledge at the moment, hoping that maybe it’ll make a difference to somebody.

Alright.

I want to begin with a story: a couple of weeks ago in the Book of Nile group chat one of our members noticed that the stories and AU’s and ideas we were constructing for each other the previous week had focused on Booker, had given Booker the extensive backstories, had articulated Booker’s complexity more thoroughly. She posted that she had noticed this along with a note along the lines of “we can’t do better if we don’t recognize the patterns.”

So here’s a pattern that I’ve noticed that is particularly disheartening to me: Nile Freeman, a black woman and the main character of The Old Guard, has the least amount of fanworks created about her.

On AO3 she has the fewest tagged fics. On tumblr, there is much less fan art created for her. In discord servers, Nile is rarely mentioned.

This fandom has become dominated by Joe and Nicky.

I do not mean to discount Joe and Nicky. Their depiction in an action movie is groundbreaking queer representation. They are fascinating individuals and fascinating in how they make their work partnership, romantic and sexual relationship flourish for an unimaginable length of time. Their story touches on themes that have long excited storytellers: the power of love above all, fate’s matches and soulmates.

Nevertheless, the way this fandom has diminished and ignored Nile Freeman is a collective act of misogynoir. All of us are complicit.

Racism is structural. Misogyny is structural. It is no one person’s fault. It is no individual’s moral failing. None of us can single-handedly fix it.

Nile’s erasure from the TOG fandom is nobody’s fault. As the opening anecdote illustrates, even those of us who actively seek out fan communities focused on her are guilty of backburnering Nile to a white man.

But, my experience working in one of the most racist systems in the US has helped me learn that though I can’t individually end racism and misogyny (and other structural inequalities), I can be aware of how my actions might reinforce these structures, and I can make deliberate choices to make my own actions as anti-racist and as feminist as possible.

So, TOG fans who are reading this, I ask you to pay attention to the content you’re creating and consuming in this fandom.

How many stories have you read or written recently that have included Nile as a full, complex character in her own right (and not a catalyst or ancillary support for Joe or Nicky or Booker)?

How much fan-art with Nile has crossed your dash recently? What percentage of it is just Nile reacting to Joe and Nicky?

How many conversations have you had in group chats and discord servers that examine Nile’s backstory, her journey in the film, her future with a fragmented and hurting Old Guard?

How many headcanons have you crafted about Nile’s role in the guard’s little family, about the way her principles and desires might reinforce the others’ views or change them?

Furthermore, I hope that as you do this, you’ll notice the reasons that you haven’t seen or engaged with content about the film’s main character. I urge you to push beyond superficial explanations.

I just like the romance aspect of Joe and Nicky. Okay, but who’s to say Nile can’t have romance too? Booker, Andy, Quynh, heck, even reincarnated Lykon or OC’s or characters from other franchises, are all available to appreciate and love on Nile Freeman.

I usually just have one ship in a fandom. Okay, but what about fic celebrating the joys of an intercultural found family or fic delving into Nile being a badass millennial warrior? Those and others are all stories that are interesting and exciting too!

I just love that Joe and Nicky are canonically queer. Absolutely! Me too! But this isn’t a reason to shun or ignore a character whose heart and intelligence and courage drives the plot of a movie we all claim to love.

And then, once you’ve paid attention, I urge you to make a change, to work against the misogynoir in our fandom. Even small things make a difference.

Reblog just one piece of content where Nile is the focus each time you log into tumblr

Read a fic once a week in which Joe and Nicky aren’t the primary characters

Write a subplot in your current fic which explores an element of Nile’s character

When I said we can all do better, I meant it. I’m not excluded from responsibility. In case you're curious how I’m taking my own advice, here’s my plan:

I’ve been bad about reblogging anything lately, considering reblogs are the lifeblood of tumblr. I’m going to seek out some of the Nile fanart I’ve skimmed over recently and queue it up. This blog is gonna have more Nile than it even did before.

I’m going to keep writing Book of Nile and Joe/Nicky, but I also want to consider Nile’s relationship with Andy and Quynh if it was sexual and romantic and fabulously queer and polyamorous. Gotta finish my current long-fic first, but then there are some fic ideas percolating I hope to get down on paper this summer.

I’m going to seek out Andy/Nile and Andy/Quynh fic on AO3. I haven’t read very much of either of these ships and I want to see more of what these authors have to offer. (If y’all have recs, hit me up!)

So to conclude, we can’t do better if we don’t recognize the patterns. I hope you’ll join me in consciously thinking about whose narratives with the TOG universe are being prioritized and whose narratives are being ignored. I hope you’ll join me in taking action, as small as they might be, to lift up those narratives that have been overlooked due to racism and misogyny that, again, is nobody’s fault but is everyone’s responsibility.

Finally, if you’ve made it to this point, thank you for your time and attention. What we pay attention to matters, and I’m grateful that you decided to pay attention to this.

[jobean12-blog]

Is it okay to bombard you with a thot I had yesterday on my way home from work? I literally spent a day daydreaming about it but it's still kind of all over the place, so I'm sorry.

Imagine reader is Bucky’s sister. Due to a accident in the timeline nobody knew about her until Dr. Strange is cleaning up the mess and brings her back (post-endgame).

But now she becomes a target of Bucky’s enemies and he and Sam decide that she's best hidden with Steve, who didn't go back in time for good but retired anyways. Think of IW!Steve with the beard and flanel shirt who lives in a cabin in the middle of nowhere.

They hadn't really met before and Steve promises to look after her.

One afternoon, while he's chopping wood, a discussion goes heated (because we all know that Steve is passionate about his views) and he basically rips a log a la age of ultron. And she just goes wide-eyed "wow that was fucking sexy!" and then he proceeds to show her how strong he really is.

And I.... 🤤

Safe With Me

Pairing: Steve Rogers x reader

Word Count: 543

Summary: You are hiding away with Steve and he's either the best roommate there is or the worst...

Author's Note: This is for the HBC's @the-ce-horniest-book-club Candy Hearts Club Event and day 5 (feb 16th): XOXO, Hot Stuff, Fax Me and Crazy 4 U. Again, no candy hearts but the words were my inspo! I love that you shared this with me anon, LOVE THIRSTY THOUGHTS and this is DELISH! It also made me think of my friend Nix's amazing edit that you see here below! OOF! Thank you for sending this my way sweets, hope you have a great evening! HUGS! Enjoy! 💕💕Thank you all so very much for reading and much love always! ❤️❤️❤️ Divider by my lovely friend @firefly-graphics thank you bunches 🥰

Warnings: teasing, flirting, sassiness, fluffy spice

EDIT NOT MINE: This beautiful photo is by my lovely friend Nix, you can find her on Insta HERE. ❤️

“Come on sweetheart. I can’t be that bad of a roommate?”

You shield your narrowed eyes from the bright morning sun and consider your answer. Steve drops the axe to the ground and holds your gaze as he rolls up the sleeves of his flannel. You can’t stop your eyes from drifting to the taut muscle that he exposes and the prominent veins running through his arms.

A bead of sweat slides free from his temple and follows the sharp outline of his jaw until it runs down his thick neck. It disappears into the open buttons of his shirt and your tongue darts out to trace the outline of your lips.

“That’s what I thought,” he simpers.

You shift on your feet and place your hands on your hips, huffing under your breath.

“You…you…”

With one hand Steve grabs another large piece of firewood and raises his brow.

“I what?” he asks, taking a step closer.

His distinct scent overcomes you, the smell of warm vanilla mixed with something woodsy filling your senses.

“You’re always asking me where I’m going or what I’m doing or how long I’ll be…it’s like living at home again!”

“I’m keeping you safe,” he states plainly. “That’s my job isn’t it?”

With that he grabs the end of the log and rips it clean in half.

“Fuck,” you mutter.

At your intake of breath he smirks, dropping the two halves and taking the last step to close the space between your bodies.

“Any other complaints?” he murmurs.

His chest brushes yours with his next inhale and you reach up to grab the material of his shirt. His long lashes kiss his cheeks when he looks down and he gently wraps his fingers around your wrists.

“You have sawdust on your collar,” you breathe out. “I was just going to get it off.”

He lifts your hands to his mouth, brushing his lips across your knuckles and pulling you closer.

For a moment you’re too caught up in your haze of lust to make any movements but when he places your hand at his collar you clear your throat and rub your fingers over his shirt. As you keep your eyes on his you slip your hand under the material and brush your fingertips over his warm skin.

“I think I got it all,” you whisper.

“Thanks,” he hums.

“Anytime,” you swallow. “And thanks for taking care of me. I’m sorry if I seem ungrateful. It’s just…”

Your head drops and you fight the urge to bury your face in his broad chest but his strong, calloused fingers caress your cheek until you’re staring back into his clear blue eyes.

“I’m sure it’s hard being cooped up here with me all the time,” he says softly. “Maybe I need to do a better job of taking care of you.”

His last words carry a different tone, one that’s possessive and holds the promise of something sinful. Your chest heaves with the effort to keep your breathing steady and when he tilts his face closer a small moan leaves the back of your throat.

“I have a long list of ways,” he simpers. “Things I’ve been thinking about since the moment I saw you.”

“Do them all,” you plead.

[bonny-kookoo]

Rabbit Boy | JJK x Reader | 🔞

Pairing: Jeon Jungkook x Reader

Wordcount: 10.3k (Long)

Genre: Romance, Friends/strangers to lovers, Smut, BDSM because I'm making that a genre now

Tags/Warnings: BDSM themes (please I'm begging you stop reading my shit if it makes you uncumfortable), mentions of restrainment, light shibari, edging, orgasm denial (very mild), Subspace, Domspace because yes thats a thing, Dom/sub dynamics, Biting, Oral (m and f receiving), riding, and not the horseback kind if you know what I mean, protected sex yes, we love an organized household, there's just so much sweet filth istg

Summary: Jungkook is wild, untamed, and doesn't really commit to anyone for long. But maybe, you're his only exception in this world. Maybe, you're really that perfect partner he's been looking for.

Jungkook likes to think of himself as an artist.

Sure, if people knew exactly what the young man does in his freetime (or as a side job, don't judge, we all want to make money out of our hobbies stop lying to yourself), they would surely look at him differently.

But he's an artist, nonetheless.

Technically, Jungkook also doesn't need to do what he does simply for the money. No, his main job pays very well- considering that he's one of the top elite in his genre of games. He doesn't just merely play and win a game; Jungkook, just like most things he touches, claims complete ownership of the match he's fighting. It's a well known fact that he's someone who likes things for himself. He loves control, craves to lead, and hates to be belittled.

Oh and yeah- financially, investing in an indie-game three years back had also done his bank account some good.

Now, at an age where he can be fully considered a man, and not a boy anymore, he craves control in different aspects of life- and love.

Jungkook has a problem however.

He's wild.

Not in the way one might think he is (although several people could argue that yes, that's also the case in bed..) but generally. He loves to control- but he hates to be tied down.

And a mindset like that doesn't work well with relationships.

He's had them before, don't get him wrong. He's had numerous in the past, but they all either broke apart because he would hold that particular desire back, making him antsy and moody, or he would welcome his partners into his world, and become uncomfortable with the way things would progress.

No, he doesn't want to experiment. He knows exactly what he wants, and if that means he's 'close-minded' and a bad person, then so be it for him.

He never liked the constant company in his apartment anyways.

"Ah, I've seen her before. She's usually a regular for Yoongi though." Taehyung says, checking a name for Jungkook, who's doodling on a napkin while he waits for his new appointment to show up. "I see. I forgot that Yoongi took some days off recently- that's probably why she's now under your hand." He explains, and Jungkook huffs, his blonde hair tickling his cheek.

"So I'll have to adjust? I mean, Yoongi's style is pretty different from mine." The young man says, not looking up. He simply continues his little sketch of braided hair, while the lanky guy behind the counter clicks away on his laptop.

"Probably? I can't check the logs since they're private, but from what I know Yoongi only did the usual with her." he explains, shrugging as he looks at his friend and colleague. "I can re-schedule her to Hoseok if you want?" He asks, and Jungkook, after finishing his drawing, lets the pen fall and stretches.

"Yeah, that would probably be best. Wouldn't know what to do if she drops- rather not have him rip my head off, thanks." He says, before he gets up.

"Ah- you're still coming over tonight right? Y/N said she's gonna cook for us." He says, and Jungkooks body shivers a little.

Your name is nothing new to him, but the reaction to it most certainly was. You're a friend of Yoongi and Hoseok, having joined in on their gaming nights a few months ago after Yoongi had insisted you couldn't stay alone on a christmas day. Jungkook had never really asked why you were alone in the first place, but he had never really cared much for it either. Sure, you were an absolute gem to look at; technically absolutely his type, but he had early on decided not to pursue anything at all with you. He knew friendship wouldn't stay friendship with you, his own hunger way too large to simply be satiated by platonic gestures-

and he was also sure you wouldn't be able to handle him, truly. The conversation with Jimin, one of your best friends, had changed nothing about that. Because he didn't know you well enough to quite know if you were only bark and no bite- or if you were genuinely craving the same things he did.

But most recently, there had been a change in his opinion on you. Because he had seen you, come out of this place, out of Yoongis studio.

You knew about all of this- and you were still around.

Nothing had changed.

Now, of course he had instantly poked holes into the poor guy about if he had ever played with you before- and the answer he had gotten, had made him even more interested and antsy to get closer to you.

Because while you trusted Yoongi with everything you had, he had never done anything with you. You had simply been interested in watching a scene unfold- and had told him that you were definitely interested in participating. The reason Jungkook couldn't ask you directly was a clear one-

You were majorly intimidated by him, to the point of, he had never really had a proper conversation with you. Partially, he had to admit, because he himself didn't want to involve himself too much with you.

He’d always asked himself; wouldn’t you be even more distant and reserved with him if you knew this side of him? Sure, you always joked around that he probably tied his girls up and edged them until they cried- but did you know that he genuinely enjoyed these things?

Relationships for him were mere covers to call the arrangements he had with the girls that came and went in his life in a constant changing matter. Deep down, no one night stand could satisfy his most carnal desires, and he was very well aware of that. But he rather took what he could get and lived a fever dream for a few moments than stay on his own simply because his idea of pleasure and sex was not the norm.

No, he refused to deny himself that.

Maybe it was because he’d always lived a rather lavish life- with his parents well off and his own career skyrocketing he never really had any worries like you have had in the past. For some odd reason, while looking at the soft red rope in his hands, his thoughts suddenly went astray; he knew he could give you the stability you oh so craved, in every way shape and form. You were a diamond simply waiting to be perfected- you had so much potential, knowing that you were secretly wandering around the same paths as he did made him even more frustrated.

The hints were there, they were obvious; from the way you had sighed out in bliss when he’d teasingly pulled your hair just hours ago, to the sinful confessions he’d heard that night when he overheard you and jimin by accident. Of course he’d maybe wasted a thought or two of you underneath him to humor him once or twice- but now with the rope in his hands, his mind immediately began painting pictures of it against your skin. Would you enjoy it? And what if he took your sight, or only bound your hands? What if he denied you to cum, or if he took you from behind, grabbing your hair and pushing down your spine to make it arch so prettily- never with the intend to hurt, of course. He knew he’d have to tame you first, make you submit, but then again, he loved the challenge.

You made even the idea of touching fun.

He wouldn't even have to undress you to fully get himself worked up, he was sure of that. Only seeing you bow to his very command would be enough to satisfy him. Of course, over the course of time he would lead you deeper and deeper into his rabbit hole, but he would take it slow for you.

So, with a smile, and a wave of his hand, he walked past the girl he knew had been his appointment- grinning at Taehyung. "Of course I'll be there."

He wouldn't dare miss a night with you.

You were stressing. A little.

Maybe.

Maybe a lot.

Everything would've been fine if they guys would've all come over. But due to the bad weather, and Taehyungs bad habit of never properly fixing his god-forsaken dumpster of a car, only one of them would be able to make it. And of course the one had to be Jeon Jungkook.

Just great.

Now, it wasn't like you didn't like the guy, no way. The problem was more, that he was on the exact opposite of that spectrum. You had a major crush on him, which felt like the plot to a really bad drama show you would watch drunk at night- and in a way, it really felt like one too. Because you were pretty sure, he didn't even know your name.

But oh well- apparently he knew more than that. More specifically, your phone number. And it had scared the shit out of you at first to receive a message from him because how the hell did he get your number, but then again you remembered that one of your connections was Kim Taehyung- and everyone knew what he knew.

It was the doorbell that ripped you out of your skin almost.

You didn't even change, deciding any effort would be too late anyways; and you were still heavily confused in the first place why the fuck he would come over alone, even though you two had never exchanged much more than a friendly hello and goodbye. But there he was, as you opened the door- soft, white hoodie and ripped jeans, a bit damp from the rain outside as you let him inside.

He didn't move.

"Uh-" You started, but he just looked at you, friendly as ever, although a teasing glint in his eye made you frown a bit.

He thought it was cute.

"You didn't tell me to come in." He said, and you blinked once, twice, before your brain had properly restarted.

"Oh uh- come in?" You said, again, moving a bit to the side so he could walk in- which he still didn't. "Jungkook come on now its fucking cold-!" You whined, and he laughed, finally stepping inside. Had he always been like that? Could very well be the case, after all, you had never truly paid much attention to his behavior before.

"Thanks for letting me come over." He said, and you watched him as he untied his boots. "I had nothing else to do- and also, I didn't want you to waste any food, considering Tae said you cooked for us." He explained, before he got up again from his half kneeling position, boots now standing next to your significantly smaller shoes.

"Ah, it would've been fine, you guys don't have to feel bad." You waved off, smiling. "I was about to stop cooking anyways when Jimin had texted me, but well, then you did and uhm.." You drifted off, noticing how you were suddenly waiting for him to lead the way.

In your own apartment.

What the hell?

If he noticed however, he didn't show it. He simply smiled, and moved his hands inside the front pocket of his hoodie. "Ah, thanks. I appreciate it, really." He said, and you smiled at him as well, walking towards the main area of your apartment. It was small, very small compared to his own, but he enjoyed the feeling of it. Everything around him reminded him of you, in a way; from the pictures taped to the walls, to the stickers on your fridge. It all held a piece of you in it. "Your apartment is really nice, by the way." He commented, and you turned around, before getting plates and cutlery to bring inside the living room.

"Ah, right, it's your first time here." You said. "Thanks- the living room is right around the corner there, you can just sit down and I'll bring everything there." You explained, and he smiled, nodding without arguing.

You liked that.

Typically, there would've been this awkward 'oh no let me help you', but Jungkook didn't seem to dwell on it much, letting you do your thing instead of butting in and making things weird. He simply walked where you had directed him, sitting down on the couch as he went to place a blanket to the side. His fingers moved over the fabric for a moment, noticing how everything on the couch, including the pillows, were made of that same, soft material.

Interesting.

"Oh- you can just put that to the side, sorry I forgot to clean that up." You said, putting the food onto the table as he just smiles again. He waits for you to sit down as well before you turn up the TV volume a little, nerves finally setting in as you notice there's almost nothing you can talk to him about. "This is awkward." You comment, and he chuckles at that swallowing his bite as he looks at you.

"Doesn't have to be." He states, before he turns his body a bit more into your direction; a visible sign that he wants a conversation. "Tae has never mentioned what you do for a living." He states, an unasked question of his. He lets you decide if you want to take it as one or leave it as a statement- it makes you feel nice, in a way.

"Ah uh.. it's really boring, so I guess I never really talk about it either.." You say, and he tilts his head a little, a silent urging for you to continue. You feel insignificant next o him and his job however. He's superior to you in any way, and you don't want him to feel pity or laugh at you for your job. "I uh.. I'm a programmer for a.. pretty unknown game studio." You say, body almost shrinking in on itself as you wait for his reaction. Much to your surprise however, he makes a sound that's purely surprise, as he swallows his bite with a bit of urgency.

"Fuck really?! That's so cool though!" He argues, brows furrowed a bit as he playfully accuses you with his next words. "Indie or not, a programmer is the main force of any game. Did you work on any games I might know of?" He asks, eyes sparkling as he realizes he had finally found something to bond with you over.

"Uh.. 'Rabbit Boy' was our best hit until now.." You say, still a bit shy, but you're also a tad more confident now. His reaction is either well-staged, or he's genuinely interested in what you do.

"I played it I think. It was a bit short, but I loved the mechanics." He says, and before he can quite stop himself, his hand has already reached out to you, running over your hair as he praises you like second nature. "Wuah, so smart!" He says, before he gets a reaction he wouldn't have thought he'd get from shy-you.

Because you playfully shove him, your socked feet pushed against the side of his thigh as you giggle at him.

Interesting, again.

Now, Jimin has actually told him about this before. How you were anything but the shy girl when you were around people you knew and trusted. He had believed it- to an extend- because he had also thought that maybe you were like that to prove your spot between those guys. As the only girl, you easily got thrown under the bus, so you had to somehow own your spot in the midst of your circle of friends.

However, it seemed like you were truly just a brat, hiding behind that innocent facade of yours. A barking dog, with every intent to bite if needed.

And Jungkook knew, he'd love to tame you, show you your spot, and make you his prey.

The trashy movie your watching bores you, in a way. Jungkook has noticed this already, having taken note of your feet wiggling around, your teeth nibbling on the inside of your cheek, as you rest your cheek on your hand, elbow resting on the side of the couch.

“I don’t know why she’s so hesitant.” You mutter, pouting as you slump into the couch- uncaring that the side of your body now leans against his own. He feels your warmth- and for some reason it brings him comfort to notice that you’re seemingly growing more at ease. “I mean, it’s what she’s into, right?” You say, brows furrowed as you watch the screen.

“It’s not that simple.” Jungkook explains, trying to not make it obvious that he’s not necessarily talking about the movie. “Some men like to you know.. fight for a partner. Impress them. Win them over.” He explains, and he can feel you shift a little- until your head raises a bit, watching him as he watches you; gazes locked, and you can’t look away. You’re shy, you’re growing restless, but his eyes are like magnets; there’s no way you can avert your gaze.

“And.. you?” You ask, voice not loud at all, as if you don’t even notice you’re saying it. He loves that- loves the fact that you’re slowly letting him closer- not only physically.

“I like to earn my spot in their lives.” He states, and your mind suddenly begins to spin. You’ve always seen him as someone who doesn’t care much about emotions or feelings, or relationships for that matter. And maybe he doesn’t- maybe he just says this because he knows your weak spots. But the way his words fall into your ears makes you believe him. “I like to see my partner thrive; I love to see them grow. And..” he says, boldly deciding to slowly reach out his hand that was placed on the back of the couch- his fingers running through your hair, only brushing through, never pulling (no matter how much you’re craving it secretly). “I love to see them let go.” He humms out, and there’s a sudden shiver down your back, one that he definitely notices.

This is it. This is where you’ll let him touch you, let him wreck you, let him ruin you. You lean in closer, and so does he, but just when your lips are about to touch, he smiles gently- a warm affectionate gesture that you’ve never seen from him. And with it being directed at you, it’s even more meaningful- but it’s all about his next move, the way his inked fingers trace your cheek, before he speaks.

“You’re not ready yet.”

And with that, he turns back to the TV.

You huff, and it's the first time you know exactly what you're doing. You knew from Yoongi what Jungkook did in his freetime- you knew that this stuff was his expertise. Defeated, you looked down towards your knees, as your thoughts start to grow more and more frustrated. He probably didn't even see you like that, having only visited you out of pity, and not because he wanted to see you.

You were probably already friendzoned, and he was too nice to outright say it into your face. It made your emotions turn sour as the situation grew more and more awkward for you.

"What're you thinking about?" He asks, and you don't answer. What was there to say anyways? You really didn't want to have this weird conversation where he would tell you that oh yeah you're a nice girl, but he's not the right guy, the usual stuff you've already heard time and time again. "Y/N." He says, his voice dropping a little, but you only chew on the inside of your cheek again, eyes moving towards the TV screen. You didn't want to talk- you just hoped he would now sigh and get up, leaving so you could forget about all of this. You could maybe fake being sick for the next week or so to avoid him, yeah, that would be enough time to gloss over this entire situation. But he only clicks his tongue, hands suddenly moving your legs as he moves your body to face him.

Looking at his face is your first mistake.

His eyes are dark and almost angry, irritated as he looks as you. His jaw is clenched, and his hands stay on your knees for a moment, before he's sure enough that he has your attention. Only then does he speak, his voice nowhere near as soft and light as it had been before. "I know what you're thinking, and I don't like it." He says, and that's when you make your second mistake.

"Can we not right now? You don't know shit." You say, and he stares you down for a moment, until his head tilts a slight bit, eyes growing predatory as the corners of his lips tilt upwards. It resembles a small smile, yes, but it's not meant to be one. No, the first thing you have to think about is a wolf snarling at you, ready to put his packmate into their place for acting out.

It makes your spine tingle.

"Hm, maybe, but we can be classy about it, no?" He asks, and you scoff, trying to move your legs away from him, as he scans you.

At this point, he can see clearly that you're testing him.

So he gets up promptly, moving you around so you're standing in front of him. His inked hand finds your hair, gripping without mercy as he pulls your head back, your gaze now forced to stay on his as he calmly speaks. "You think I'm not into you like that- and you're as wrong as you could ever get." He says, biting his tongue as to not let a petname slip. He'd love to use them, but he knows that it's not yet time. That would be foul play, in a way; he doesn't want to seduce you.

He wants to make you understand.

"Trust me when I say I'd love to just throw you over my legs to spank that attitude out of you right now." He explains, and you whine- not in pain, but simply as a reaction to his confession. "But you don't know what you're getting yourself into." He continues, and pulls a bit to interrupt your next words. You know that you can get free any second you want to- but for some reason, there's no urge to do so. "You think of this as some game to play, you think of yourself as someone who can take all of it at once, but you don't even get the simplest and most important things about this entire thing." You swallow, as you stay still, finally giving up your fight as he relaxes the grip he still has on you. "Even now, it's not me controlling this situation. Its you." He says, letting go of you as his hands rest on your cheeks, eyes searching for any clues of discomfort. Only when he finds none, does he continue. "I will only ever have as much control over you as you're willing to give to me." He smiles again, this time, warm and comforting. "If you're really willing to do this, we will do this right. You'll have to trust me first, and I'll have to get to know you fully first, before anything else happens. Understood?" He asks.

And you nod.

"Do you know what you just agreed to?" He chuckles, and, shyly, you shake your head.

"See?" He grins, breaking skincontact with you. "You're not ready yet."

His brows furrow when he sees you sitting on the counter, Taehyung talking to you. "What're you doing here?" He asks, and you pout, as Taehyung moves away, not wanting to get involved into anything this time. "Stop that face. We talked about this last week, why're you here now?" He asks, and you tilt your head innocently.

"Maybe I'm here for Yoongi?" You say, and his eyes grow darker for a second, before he composes himself.

"Good try, but he's still off work." He states, and you deflate a bit.

"I just.. wanted to see, I guess." You say, and he smiles a bit impishly.

"Oh? I mean, I have a scene in twenty minutes.." He asks, and internally, you cringe. No, you don't want to see him screw or even touch another woman in the ways you secretly want him to touch you instead. No, you're technically here to maybe talk him into show you at least a little bit. But it doesn't seem like he'll cave in anytime soon, so you sigh out.

"Okay, okay, I'll see you around, I guess." You say, hopping down from the counter before you take a step towards the exit.

"Ah well, I'll drive you home then." He states, and you grow confused as he leans against the counter. "Seeing as my scheduled appointment wants to leave, I have time off." He states, and you skin tingles. "Come on now, before I change my mind." He states, as he walks you outside again, leading you towards his car.

"I didn't mean to turn up so.. I don't know. Sorry." You said, and he gets into the drivers seat, shaking his head.

"I can understand you, trust me." He says, as he starts the engine and drives off. "If you're okay with it, I'd like to get something from my apartment, and then drive to yours." He says, and you tilt your head.

"Why not to the studio, or your place?" You ask, and he nods.

"While those are places I feel comfortable, they're unfamiliar to you. It's best if we start in a place that's comforting and gives you a sense of security." He states, and you nod.

Jungkook, in your eyes, never really seemed as mature as he's acting in those moments. It's as if he switches every time you two change topics; any time this particular one comes up, his mood changing into a serious one. Now, you're not stupid, you know the risks- and of course you had somewhat done your research online about the damages that could occur during all of this. And there's also the not too little chance it really isn't something for you after all- and in a way, that scares you. Because you want jungkook, but what if you don't want.. this?

Instead of voicing that out, you simply keep quiet as he gets out the car, and inside again after fetching what looks like an overnight bag. "You're staying over?" You ask, and he simply throws it on to the backseat.

"Maybe. We'll see." He says, and you don't question him as he drives. "Let's get something to eat. What're you craving?" He asks, as he keeps his attention on the road. He notices how you seem to think, already able to practically see the gears turning inside your head. "Don't think about what I could want. I asked what you want." He says, calmly, and so soft, that you simply let your words out.

"Tae usually get's me food.." You start, and Jungkook nods, as if understanding. You watch him smile a little.

"Let's get some junk food and eat it in the car." He simply states, and you nod, happy that he seemingly really did get what you were trying to say. For you, things like these were almost like rituals- like you and tae getting random icecream just to hurry home every time to not have it melt.

Maybe this would become a memory only for you and Jungkook.

"You're nervous." Jungkook says, speaking out what's obvious. You don't know what he'll do, you're confused whats in his bag- you're nervous, just like he said. "Why is that?" He asks, casually sitting on your bed with you. He had earlier told you not to panic-clean it; he was not there to be impressed. He was simply a visitor for now, nothing more, nothing less. You shrugged. There were a lot of reasons you were nervous. "If you want this to work, I need to have proper communication with you. Guessing will get me nowhere." He says, but his voice is not upset. He's simply informing you.

"I.. don't know what you'll do?" You say, and He smiles, sitting more comfortably, as he shows you his open hands.

"I'm not gonna do anything for the moment." He tells you, and you shrug.

"But wasn't that the plan?" You ask him.

"What would you want me to do then?" He asks instead, not answering your question. He's testing you, he want's to know if you really are aware of everything. He's also not only asking you about what you want him to do to you- but with you, as well. He was unsure if you wanted to romantically involve yourself with him, or simply explore something new at his side.

He's afraid he'd be okay with either, just because its you.

"Are you going to tie me up?" You ask, and Jungkook grins, before he laughs. You're growing shy, unsure, and he instantly makes sure you know he's simply laughing about what you said, not about you. His hand holds yours- and it's weirdly reassuring.

"No, although I can imagine you looking very pretty in that position." He says. "No, come here." He says, lays down on the bed, and you stay where you are, with reasonable distance between you two. "I want you to come as close to me as you feel comfortable. Don't force it- take your time. I'm not expecting anything, please remember that." He tells you calmly, not looking at you to give you mental distance from him as well. His eyes are actually closed, his body relaxed.

You don't move for a moment. You want to test how long he can really play this patient role- but after around five or ten minutes, he's still not moving. He's not even saying anything, and you're unsure if he's asleep or not.

There's only one way to find out.

You carefully lay down a little away from him, on your side, simply looking at him. It's weird to see him like that; you've always imagined him to be a very dominant and demanding person, from what you've heard and seen of him. But Jungkook doesn't feel like any of the guys you've been with; he also doesn't feel like Taehyung, or Yoongi, or Hoseok.. Jungkook, weirdly enough, feels comfortable. He's relaxed, and laid back, and still has that slight glint of power over you.

You move closer, your curiosity getting the best of you as scenes and pictures of him holding you fill your head. Is he even a cuddler? You can't imagine him being all soft and sweet for gestures like that, but then again, you didn't really think you'd ever be in a situation like this either. Maybe you were judging a book by its cover.

He smells nice- that's one of the first things you notice once you get closer. One of his arms is stretched out to the side- his tattooes visible, but partially hidden by his sweater sleeve. You want to look at them, so you test the waters- by touching his arm, just a small poke with your finger. You can see the corners of his lips twitch; he's definitely awake. You move his arm a little, inside facing you as you get a detailed look at his artworks. They're detailed, they fit him, the dark Ink a stark contrast to his skin.

His sweater seems soft.

You slowly lay down again, your head resting on his biceps as you simply lay for a moment.

This is nice.

You feel more and more bold with every minute that passes, not even minding the way he sometimes moves around. You're growing at ease, so much so, that you simply throw all hesitation out of the window, and cuddle up to him. one of your hands is on his chest, while your head rests ontop of the inside of his shoulder.

This is really nice.

"Are you falling asleep?" He asks, voice not loud at all, as his arm moves, palm resting on your forearm as he holds you. You don't mind it- you feel relaxed enough to really actually do fall asleep- so you nod. "That's good." He tells you.

"But didn't you bring stuff to try?" you ask, and Jungkook nods.

"We got time. A small nap is always a good idea." He tells you, and you simply nod- making him smile.

He's glad.

Because by falling asleep on him like that, you don't even know how much you've complimented him at all. You're relaxed enough around him, comfortable enough to let him close to you in a vulnerable state such as sleep. It makes him wonder how far you'd let him go- would you let anyone get so close so quickly? A sudden rush of protectiveness curses through his body, fills him up, as he swears he can't let you go now. No, what if someone else gets you like this? What if someone takes advantage of your open mind like that? He doesn't even want to imagine.

Jungkook really has it bad.

You slowly wake up to a bit of weight on your face. "jungkook what're you doing?" you giggle, and he chuckles as well as he takes the hand away from over your eyes. He looks well rested, with his eyes still not fully open.

"Nothing." He says. "Just teasing." He says, but of course, nothing he does is just random teasing. Everything he does is calculated- it's to test you, to study you, to make sure he gets to know you. "Are you hungry?" He asks instead.

"Not for food."

He has to let that process for a moment, until he laughs. He's really got it with you, he thinks, as he suddenly moves, eyes dark, while he's now ontop of you, his hands holding your wrists. Expecting you to look surprised, he finds none of that however. It intrigues him, the way you don't seem to be nervous or fearful at all. It makes him wonder what you'd really do to him if he was to advance in ways he wanted to. "Careful, sweetheart." He says, and your eyes sparkle with a silent challenge.

"Or what?"

His grip gets a bit tighter at that, eyes a bit darker. "Someone's eager." He says lowly. "Don't you think you're biting off more than you can chew right now?" He asks, before he clicks his tongue, slowly falling into his own headspace. He knows however not to let himself slip. "Give me a random word." He asks, demands, and you say whatever finds your mind in that moment.

"Bunny." You say.

He raises his eyebrow for a second, but doesn't question it. "I want you to say that, loud and clear, as soon as you feel uncomfortable." He lectures you seriously. "It doesn't matter what it is. Physically, or mentally, or if you simply don't want me to continue because. I need you to tell me that you will say it." His gaze is intense, and you nod. "I promise you; I'll never get mad, or upset, or angry, or disappointed with you. My ego isn't worth your safety." He humms out at the end, and your eyes soften.

He notices it instantly, and it affects him more than he'd like to admit.

"I promise I'll say it if I need to." You tell him, and he grows comfortable again.

"Can I touch you?" He asks, softly, and you nod, before verbally answering him with a yes. "Remember; I'll only ever have as much power and control over you as you will give me." He mumbles, head now dipped down to ghost his lips over the skin of your neck. "But once you give it to me-" He says, his knee situating itself in between your legs to spread them in a silent command. "-I won't give it back." He growls, before he bites down, releasing the skin after hearing your delicate mewl, kissing the spot as if to apologize.

He's not sorry.

"Let me ask you.." He says, feeling you rut against his leg that's pressed against your center. "what do you really want from me?" He asks, and you open your eyes, movements slowly coming to a halt as you notice the way he looks at you.

He almost looks uncertain.

"I.." You want him. You know that- you want all of his bad habits and weird quirks. You want to get to know him and everything that comes with it. Hell, he was the main reason you even got into the entire scene in the first place. "You." You say, deciding its best to practice honesty.

"Me?" He asks, genuinely a little confused.

You nod. "Yeah. You." You say. It's a little weird, the whole situation, but you don't mind it. Your hands slowly slip out of his grasp, before they instead intertwine their fingers with his. He feels weirdly caught off guard by the gesture- his past encounters and relationships never having included things like these. So much so, that Jungkook genuinely believed those things to be simple movie-gestures. Overdone, and not realistic. "Like uhm.. if you want to. If you just want to, you know, I.. guess I'd be okay with that too-" You say, looking away, as Jungkook answers.

"I want you too." He answers, eyes searching yours for any glimmer of dishonesty. But he doesn't find it- there is none. There's just you. "I really want you too." He murmurs out, getting closer, before he lets himself loose, his lips finding yours.

He's never been a fan of kissing, but he can very much already imagine kissing you for hours.

Its not just you letting go in that moment, its him too.

Because unbeknownst to you, he's not just opening you a door to his world of unspoken fantasies-

He's also opening his heart as well.

Your first time together is slow and comfortable.

It happens just a day after you had both decided to pursue an actual relationship with one another. He's gentle, careful, but not hesitant. He's exploring.

Inside of his head, he notes down every noise and every twitch of muscle. You sigh as he eats you out, the small ponytail of his unable to hold onto all of his hair as his eyes are partially hidden behind the blonde strands. He's watching you, his fingers having already stretched you out, but then he sits up. You whine, with him having stolen your release for a second time. "Let's play a little, yeah?" He says with an amused yet calm tone. You're already unable to do much about your position; your wrists bound to your bed over your head, carefully tied knots comfortable against your skin, as long as you don't pull. "Legs open." He calls out as you try and close them, and you whine again; testing his patience as you still go ahead and disobey his command. He watches, moves forward, before he pulls them apart again. "You want to cum, no?" He asks, and you nod, frustratedly so. "I wonder what made you think you've earned that reward from me." He tells you, eyes scanning your form as you pull on your restraints a little. He's not fully into his own headspace yet- he's still very much on high alert to notice any signs of discomfort coming from you.

He has to learn just as much as you do.

"You're lucky you're so sweet." He says, before he crawls closer again, his hand on your center, as he enters you with two fingers. Its not enough, but then his thumb draws circles on your clit- and you're approaching, quickly. "Hm? Won't you cum?" And then you say it.

"Can I?"

It's so desperate, so needy, so submissive, that it sends a chill down his spine. He moves closer, kisses your neck, as he can't help but let the rush of it get to him. He is, after all, just as desperate for release. No matter if its his, or yours.

"Such a good girl, of course you can." He tells you. "What a sweet one, such good manners.." He teases playfully, and you tug at your restraints as you come undone under his hands. He unties your wrists and you're holding onto him as soon as you're free, and he lets you hold onto him in your post orgasmic bliss.

Its after a moment that you realize it.

"Wait-" You say, sitting up to look at him. "You- I mean, you didn't get to-" You start, but Jungkook waves it off.

"Its fine, really." He tells you, and you know he's serious. "I'll just wait until it goes down, or take care of it in your bathroom if thats okay with you." He says, patting the side next to him to lay down on. "Come here." He asks, and you comply, before you speak again.

"You.." You start, not looking at him. "Could just take care of it here." You say. "Or I could.." you start, and he looks at you.

"Do you want that, or do you only feel like you have to?" He asks, and you shrug. You take some time, before you answer.

You've seen most of Jungkook until now. From his strong arms, his back, his inked skin, to his thighs and legs. You have seen all- but that. And you've never really considered giving anything back in that way to anyone because of one single embarrassing moment- but with Jungkook, for some reason, you wanted to try.

"I want to." You say, and he nods. "But I don't know how.." You say, and he smiles reassuringly.

"I'll guide you." He tells you, before he scans your face. He's never really felt that desired- at least not in the way he does in that moment with you. "You can take it out for starters." He says, and you nod, before you hesitate a little.

Jungkook is nice, when it comes to that. He's patient, always lets you do the pacing for now, until you trust him enough. This is only the start, after all. You stay cuddled up to his side, but your hand ventures towards his sweats, where you can see his prominent erection still waiting. Slowly, you push the fabric down, both his sweats and boxers underneath- his hips lifting a bit to make it easier for you, until he's freed from his clothes.

You've never really thought much about looks when it came to that department, but Jungkook was, in each and every way, highly attractive. Now you knew, that there was literally nothing about him you didn't desire.

Your first touches are a little hesitant, testing the waters, and Jungkook tries not to react too much to it to give you time. Its when you start to move your hand however, that he closes his eyes, head now completely resting on the pillows beneath as he just decides to enjoy what you might give him. His hips twitch upwards a little after you'd run your thumb over the head, precum glistening while your hand uses it as lubricant to move more smoothly.

He sighs out.

And you grow bold at that, moving to sit up and escape out of his embrace, before you dip down to feed your curiosity. As your tongue touches his skin, his muscles contract, the action not expected since he didn't look what you were doing. You've been told once before that you're not.. the best at this- but Jungkook made you want to try. If you would've looked, you would've spotted the intense stare that Jungkook had been sending your way; mesmerized by the way you tucked your hair behind your ear oh so sweetly, before you let a drop of saliva escape from between your lips, taking him in soon after it had dropped onto his awaiting length.

You really were something else.

He'd gotten head time and time before, and it was never something he didn't like- but he'd also rarely ever cared that much emotionally about the person giving it to him. It's weird, how an emotional connection can make you so much more sensitive to things- such as in that moment, as your tongue moved over his skin while inside your warm mouth, lips heavenly on his cock.

He couldn't imagine what it would be like to be inside you.

There's nothing he could teach you, nothing he could tell you to do, as you moved, sucked and licked. He was breathing heavily already, his hand finding yours as you hold onto it. He sits up, can't help it, has to somehow touch you while you're not letting go of your task. His palm escapes your hand, rests on your head instead, runs through your hair before it grips a little. You moan, vibrations making him throw his head back as he groans out, feeling his end coming closer. "If you don't want to swallow, let go." He grits out, but you suck harder instead, and its when your hand finds his balls that he lets himself fall back onto the mattress beneath, shooting his load into your mouth as you swallow it down.

He's on cloud nine.

You're thoughtful enough to pull his underwear and pants back up, laying on your stomach next to him, waiting, watching, with impish eyes. He looks so radiant, so relaxed, so at ease. It fills you with a weird sense of pride; since in a way, its your doing. "Why did you tell me you don't know how to do that." He comments, rather than asks, slowly calming his breathing back down. His eyes open, hand pushing some hair out of your face. "Thank you. That was amazing." He says, and you shrug.

"Thanks for the compliment." You say, looking at him.

"I have a request." He says, and you nod. "Not like that." He teases, making you blush. "No, but seriously." Jungkook knows that you've been with other people before. It scares him to know that some of your experiences might not have been good- he knows some absolute horror stories Taehyung had told him. "I want you to take all that you've experienced with your former partners.. all those moments, emotions, bad memories, all of it." He tells you, hand now resting on your cheek- a gesture in which you lean into. "And throw them away. Forget them." He tells you.

"This is a new start, for both of us."

"How many clients have you been with?" You ask, casually sitting on the kitchen counter as Jungkook washes the dishes. Its your first night in his apartment, and you're more comfortable than you thought you'd be.

"None." He tells you, and you're ready to snort out a laugh, but he doesn't look at all like he's joking. Seeing your confusion, he continues while scrubbing a plate. "None of us actually have sex with our clients. Some only come to talk, really- others come to let go." He explains, and you nod. "I've never touched, nor been with someone intimately during a scene." He tells you.

"So you had scenes with your partners then?" You ask, and he shrugs.

"In the beginning, yeah." He admits, shrugging. "But I eventually gave up on it. It's not something a lot of people find very appealing. It all looks great in theory, but when practiced, most find its not for them." Draining the sink, he dries his hands on the dish towel, before putting it in its proper place.

"Could you.. imagine a relationship without it?" You ask, and he sighs, shaking his head.

"Not really." He looks at you after a moment. "Its who I am, and its how I love. I can't change that." He tells you, and you nod. Its understandable really, and you like that he has clear lines he likes to follow. It's weirdly comforting to know that he has his life so under control- its all you've ever wanted really.

It's something Jungkook might be able to give you.

It was weird, the feeling of the rope against your skin. He’d been right about it earlier; it wasn’t rough or itchy at all. But maybe that was just because it was him doing it. Maybe he was simply fogging up your senses.

It would make sense.

“Okay?” He humms out, voice gentle and calm while he stops his hands for a moment, palm on your shoulder where it warms up your skin. You’re unsure what okay really means- okay like, he’s finished? Or is he asking if you’re okay? Or is he asking for permission? “Speak to me- don’t just think.” He says, eyes watching you in such a manner that made your slightly trembling body calm down.

“I’m not sure what- what you mean by, okay.” You say, and he smiles, eyes roaming over your body for a moment, but surprisingly not in a way that would make you feel exposed. You’re almost naked, after all- only your most private parts hidden from his sight. You can see the very evident tent in his pants; but he doesn’t seem like he’s frustrated or fazed about it.

“Good Job telling me.” He says first and foremost, and you start to feel warm inside. “I was asking if you were okay. Do you remember your colors?” He asks, and you nod, before verbally answering him with a ‘yes’. He nods again, a hand running over your head, fingers running through your hair affectionately. “Good. I’ll finish the last knots now- remember you can stop at any time. Don’t hesitate.” He says, and you nod.

He grabs the rope again; the tiny fact that he’d chosen one in your favorite color making you feel.. well, you didn’t know. You could feel your nose sting, before it shot into your eyes, making them water; something that Jungkook immediately noticed. “Color?” He asks, and you shake your head.

“Green, Green, I’m okay-“ you say, but you can’t stop the tears. He’s quick to sit down in front of you after tying the last knot- and it’s the first time you quietly look at them. They’re so delicate, so well done, but there’s no time to dwell on it as he lifts you chin gently.

“Talk to me.” He says, hands on your shoulders to give you some sense of stability. You’re safe, you don’t feel bad, but just..

“I don’t know. There’s so much-“ you begin, and he softly smiles, as if you’re not currently completely bound with no chance of proper movement. You take a deep breath, holding it before you release again, silently following the advices he’d given you prior. “Why do I feel so.. comfortable? I feel safe even though I’m in such a dangerous situation- I’m.. this is weird isn’t it, I should be.. I don’t know. Why’re you not doing anything? Wasn’t this supposed to be like, a sex session or something I don’t get it-“ you babble, and he lets you, before he speaks.

“You still don’t quite get it, do you?” He asks, and your glistening eyes stare up at him. “I don’t need something as simple as sex to feel satisfied.” He explains, and you nod, even though you don't quite understand. "I feel euphoric right now, even though you probably won't quite believe me." He says, his smile evident as his fingers trace the knots on your skin. It's there that you see it; the glimmer in his eyes, something you've never seen before with someone else. "The fact that you let me do this, it's all I need." He humms out. He looks at you, a silent question, and you take a deep breath.

You don't quite know what you're doing. Its weird- but seeing him like that makes you feel weightless. It happens slowly, you don't quite grasp what it is, but the feeling is nice. It's like letting go- like standing on the highest platform of the universe and just jumping down. And when you open your eyes, all you see is him.

He can't take his eyes off of you.

He's seen it often enough to spot it, knows what it looks like, but it still holds such a deep meaning to him to see you fall into your subspace for the very first time. You're so beautiful like that, so ethereal and enchanting as you lean forward to get closer to him. He's careful you dont accidentally hurt yourself with the big scissors on the bed close by- emergency equipment to release you asap if needed.

He knows escape is the furthest thing on your mind right now.

Able to do anything he'd want with you, he's not like that however. He's responsible enough to let you float for a moment, before he speaks to you again. "Baby?" He asks, and you nod, nuzzling his shoulder as he holds you close. "You're doing so good. Can you do something for me baby?" He questions again, and you nod, not parting from him however before he talks again. "Can you sit straight for a moment? Just like that, good girl." He praises as you instantly follow his command. "I got you, okay? I got you, you're safe." He repeats, as he slowly unties your body. It's careful reassuring and slow movements that make it possible to untie you- too quickly could make you drop; a state of sudden shift in mental state, that could send you straight into distress. Jungkook doesn't ever want to be the cause of that for you.

You're underneath him, and he's careful, as he undresses after placing the scissors onto the bedside table where it cant lead to any accidents. He also reaches inside the table, pulling out a condom from a box safely stored, before he gets himself ready.

Not even for a second is his attention not on you however.

"Hands up baby." He commands, and you do as he wants, already squirming as he advances towards you, fingers stretching you out as you grow huffy at the prospect of being edged again. He's quick to catch on though. "Hm, I'm not gonna be mean baby." He tells your fuzzy mind. "But I gotta get you ready, no?" Fingers steadily helping you relax, he waits until he deems you ready.

You struggle to keep your hands up as he enters you, but your mind is adamant on keeping his command. He groans out, kisses your neck, as he slowly begins to move lazily. It's enough for pleasure- but not enough to make you cum. "Good fucking girl. Look at you. My baby." He chants, and something inside you stirs at the last words.

His Baby.

You're his.

He wants you.

It makes you whine as he chuckles, nipping at your skin. "You can touch me baby, good job." He says, and your hands are instantly around his neck. You're mumbling something, but its not words. It's not coming out the way you think it does, and Jungkook doesn't mind, doesn't care. Its another one of those things fueling him up, urging him on.

You're his perfect puzzle piece.

He lets go.

"Turn around princess." He says breathless, and you follow his instructions eagerly. His hand rests on the back of your neck for a moment, leaves its place for a second to move your hair away from your face, before he gently pushes down. He's inside in a heartbeat, this time thrusting with more strength.

Something overcomes him that hasn't happened before.

Usually, this position is what he loves most- and yet, it's not what he wants. He wants you, he wants you close, he cant touch you enough. His arms snake around your torso, just underneath the bottom of your breasts, as he pulls you towards him. Your back arches so prettily, and he gasps out, breathing heavy as he continues his attack on your neck. "You're mine." He growls out, can't keep it inside anymore, his grip on you tightening. "Mine." His thrusts stutter, his hand reaches for your center, desperate fingers helping you find your release. It coats your thighs, stains the bed, and he pushes himself as deep as he can once he finishes himself.

He's breathing heavily, he's out of his mind, running on autopilot as his hands still hold you. He pulls out after a moment, a whine from you getting reassured by his own voice, before he leaves the bed, getting a warm damp washcloth ready for you. He's careful, gentle, seems to caress your skin more than clean it, places kisses every now and then and sends praises your way.

"How do you feel?" He asks, voice low and caring as he continues his aftercare.

"Like you love me a lot." You sleepily say, eyes still foggy, and he smiles.

"Good." He tells you, reaching out to kiss your lips, still high on his own afterglow. "That's how you're always supposed to feel like."

"I've quit." He tells you one night on the couch, as you sit close to him. You'd asked him about his sidejob at Yoongi's- and this was his answer. Instantly, you sit up straight, fearing that he might've felt obligated because of you. "Before you start, yes, it was because of you." He says, and you already have the whine in your throat- but it doesn't make it out, as his fingers lazily trace your collarbone peaking out from his shirt you're wearing. "But it was also my decision. I just didn't enjoy it anymore- and you're more I could ever want really." He says, shrugging as you stare at him.

It was still new to you.

Although you knew that he was probably more than just a wild loverboy collecting partners and gaming all day, you never would've thought of him like this. He's a kid at heart still, teasing and playfighting every now and then- but he's mostly a strong shoulder to lean on for you. He really is the security and safety you'd always searched for. "What're you thinking about?" He asks, pulling you closer as he continues watching the TV show.

"You." You say, and he chuckles.

"Cute." He answers. He looks at you for a moment, TV long forgotten, before you crawl over his lap, shirt rising enough to give him free view of your thighs and panties. You've skipped the pants tonight- a habit of yours he enjoys a lot. His palms instantly find the soft skin, running along the outside of your thighs before they find your behind, squeezing, before he slaps it playfully. He grins as you squeal, admiring the way the very tips of your ears turn red. "You're really precious, you know that?" He tells you, and you shrug. "You are." He confirms, and you smile shyly.

"May I kiss you?" You ask, and he smiles warmly.

"We're not in a scene baby, do as you wish." He tells you, and you nod, leaning forward to capture his lips with yours. Its a feeling you can't quite get enough of, and it seems like he enjoys it equally as much. His inked hands find their way underneath your shirt, running over your back and spine as you shudder. He doesn't find what he seeks, your underwear long gone and left in the bedroom, and he loves it, instantly moves to your chest where he finds the soft flesh, his thumb running over one of your nipples teasingly. You're arching your back already, moving around as if you can't sit still. "My baby." He mumbles out, "If you can be so kind and get me a condom, you can ride me if you want to." He tells you, and you nod.

By now you easily know your way around his apartment.

So its no wonder you quickly return from your now shared bedroom, condom in hand as you approach him again, settling onto his lap. You're not shy with him nor his body anymore, eagerly taking the condom out of the package for him to roll it down onto his length. "You good?" He asks, and you nod, pulling your panties aside as you slowly sink down on him.

He lets his head rest back on the couch, and you lean into him, for a change returning the favor of kissing his neck. He's grinning, throughoutly enjoying things, and you love watching him. It's a visual reminder to yourself that this is your doing. You're making him feel that way, and no one else. It makes you confident, and it makes you feel cherished in ways you haven't felt before.

Once you start to move, Jungkooks hands help you along. Its slow and lazy, not at all hurried. There's no real goal; you probably wouldn't even mind not cumming at all. This was just being close- a way of feeling connected in the most intimate of ways. Connected like only lovers could be.

You love him.

And it slips out as a tiny 'I love you' in between your sighs and gasps, and he hears it so clearly, he can't help himself but speed up the pace.

"I love you too." He chants out, kissing the side of your head as you rest against his chest, head on his shoulder. "I love you so much." He says, almost inaudible, his arms holding you as close as he can.

Jeon Jungkook doesn't need sex to feel satisfied.

But he will most certainly need you for now and forever.

And he's totally fine with that.

(c)Bonny-Kookoo. You know the drill. I know where you live. I don't. But still. Be scared. Boo.

[manonblaqkbeak]

Midnight Cravings

so, i actually wrote most of this in july but never finished it and decided to fix it up for todays prompt bc i was feeling a lil lazy lol. and i think its one of my faves, especially the ending.

2.2k words

cw: none

enjoy!! :)

It was just past two in the morning and Aelin was wide awake. Not due to a mountain of paperwork, or a nightmare or one of her kids needing her. Aelin was wide awake because she was absolutely starving.

The type of starving it felt like she'd never eaten a day in her life. Like her stomach was going to eat itself.

Her stomach growled again, louder than before, and beside her, his voice muffled, Rowan asked, “Is that your stomach or the wind outside?”

“Shut up,” Aelin mumbled, as her stomach continued its song. Gods, why was she so hungry? She practically devoured the fruits in the fruit bowl just before bed, she had a healthy serving of dinner, and a large slice of chocolate torte for dessert.

But here she was, close to eating her damned pillow to sate her starvation.

Aelin glanced over towards her mate, his back to her, and she shuffled closer, resting her chin on his shoulder.

“Rowan,” she started to say, but Rowan cut her off.

“I'm not going to the kitchens.”

She pouted, although he couldn't see her. “Please?” she knew that if she used her manners, then he would do just about anything.

But it didn't work. Not just yet. “There's some fruit in the bowl.”

“I ate them all.” He sighed heavily, knowing that he was losing this conversation. “Please? I am your mate, your wife, the mother of your children.”

Rowan snorted. “Really? I was starting to suspect that the three silver-haired children were Lorcan's.”

Her hunger nearly disappeared at the thought of that. “Don't be gross.” Reaching over, Aelin kissed the tip of his ear, smiling as he shuddered in pleasure as she nibbled on it. “Please?”

Rowan sighed heavily, knowing that he lost, and Aelin barely hid her smile. “I'll go,” he said. “But only if you join me.”

Her smile did disappear at that. “But the bed is so warm.”

“Exactly. If I have to leave it, so do you.”

“Fine,” she mumbled reluctantly, but quickly perked up, realising that she would be getting food. Rowan was a much better cook than her. Aelin used to have basic cooking skills, but with being Queen and then becoming a mother, she never cooked anymore and really had no need to; not with multiple cooks under the palace roof. She did try a few years ago as a treat for her family, but everything turned into a crisp and wasn't even suitable for the dogs in the kennels.

Scrambling out of bed, the Queen and King of Terrasen tied on their robes and put on their slippers. Aelin loved the sight of Rowan looking so domestic, it was ridiculous how much she loved it.

Since Isolde was only six months old and far too young to be left behind, Rowan put her in the wooden carrier to take with them into the kitchens, their movements silent as the grave as they transferred their youngest from her crib and into the crafty carrier—Isolde was the only one of their children that slept soundlessly through the night at such a young age, and loathed to be woken up. As Rowan did that, Aelin checked in on Alder in his room, their son a little over three years old, but he slept like a log and Aelin knew that he wouldn't wake up at any point when they were gone.

As they left their chambers, Aelin nearly ruined all their good work and almost woke up their other children when she bit out a curse at the sudden leg cramp that shot up her right calf. Rowan glanced at her, asking if she was okay, and after a moment she was, although she was left a little dazed at the suddenness of it all.

Aelin's legs had been cramping randomly of late, but she didn't notice anything of concern. If it continued, she would go to Magnolia and see if anything could be done about it. The last thing Aelin needed was to fall ill, she had far too many things to do with winter arriving in a few weeks. She did know that if anything was wrong with her, that she could rely on Rowan completely.

Aelin's stomach growled for the umpteenth time, the sound lasting for a good minute before it settled. Isolde fidgeted in her sleep, but did not wake.

“I think your stomach was just trying to talk to me.”

“It was,” Aelin agreed. “It said that we need to hurry the hell up or it's going to disintegrate.”

“We better do as it says then. It'd be cruel to subject Terrasen to a hungry Queen. No one should suffer as I do when you're starving.”

“You make me sound horrible.”

“You are,” he said, humour dancing in his dark eyes. “And not just when you're hungry.”

Aelin mumbled under her breath. Rowan decided to pretend not to hear her, even as he fought a smile.

After what felt like an eternity, they reached the kitchens, Rowan placing Isolde onto the counter closest to them. Aelin rushed towards the bowls of fruit, grabbing an apple and a pear, eating the fruits simultaneously. She missed the small, private smile Rowan gave her as he went to the pantry, asking her what she was in the mood for, one eye on their child. But still, she slept and Rowan for a moment, wished that all of their children had been like that, but knew that there was no point in complaining when they all slept quietly now.

“Something filling,” was all Aelin could think of to say. But after a moment decided on an omelette, filled with bacon, mushrooms, onion, red bell-peppers and carrot. As she and Rowan prepped the ingredients—with Rowan wanting his own omelette—Aelin contemplated in silence, her brows furrowed as she chopped up the carrots.

“What are you thinking about, Fireheart?” Rowan asked when he noticed his wife's expression.

“Just trying to remember the last time I was this hungry. I've been like this for at least a week and a half.”

“I've noticed. You haven't had this big of an appetite for a good number of years.”

She didn't comment on that, lost in her own world. “And my legs have been cramping lately too. I haven't injured myself. Have I been sleeping in strange positions?”

“No, you're sleeping just fine.”

Her frown deepened. “Maybe I'm just stressed for the winter preparations.”

“Possibly, I know that you worry a lot for the people during winter.” They both did, as the winters in Terrasen were brutal. Each year there was always a small number of people that passed due to the cold for a number of reasons. When those lists made their way in Aelin's hands, it always hit her hard, her guilt a palpable thing, even after Rowan would tell her that it was in no way her fault.

But that wasn't the reasons for her consuming hunger and leg cramps—Rowan had noticed the change in her scent weeks ago and when he noticed, he thought that Aelin would too. But she was completely oblivious and he didn't want to spoil the surprise, although it was getting harder each day not to say something.

However, he couldn't help but count back the weeks to the day of conception. He was fairly certain that it was when Aelin had been reading a particularly steamy novel on the window seat in their sitting room and jumped on him like they had never had sex before when he had come to ask if she was joining him in bed.

It would fit in with list of unusual places they have conceived their children. Elentiya had been in the library (either in the archives or in Aelin and Rowan's private nook, neither were sure), Norrin against an oak tree (which they discovered after they have calmed down that the Little Folk had watched the entire encounter, with Aelin becoming stuck between wanting to laugh or hide under a rock), Alder against one of the many palace chimneys, and Isolde in a linen closet.

Maybe one day they would conceive a child in their bed like most people did.

They got to cooking, with Rowan standing behind Aelin and guiding her with the wooden spoon and plating their midnight meal before it burned into a crisp. Isolde babbled in her sleep as the sounds of cooking reached her, but still slept. It wouldn't be long, however, until she woke up to be fed. Aelin placed their youngest by her feet as they sat down at the small dining table in the far corner of the kitchen where the workers took their breaks.

The smile on Aelin's face as she bit into the fluffy omelette was certainly worth being woken up in the middle of the night.

However, her fork stilled in mid-air when she was halfway done when realisation dawned on her.

Finally.

“I'm pregnant,” was all she said, her Ashryver eyes growing wide. Rowan didn't bother to hide his smile. This was why he didn't say anything. It was always worth it when she revealed those beautiful words to him. “Rowan, I'm pregnant. The last time I was this hungry was when I was pregnant with Alder and the leg cramps are from Norrin's pregnancy. And all the fruit I can't stop eating is just like when I was pregnant with Isolde. How haven't I noticed anything?”

“You've been busy,” Rowan said, reaching over to take her hands in his and kissed her fingers.

“You knew, didn't you?” Aelin asked, her eyes narrowed just slightly.

“I may have noticed.”

“You should have told me.”

“I like it better when you come to the realisation yourself,” he said simply.

Aelin shot out of her seat and sat on his lap, a pretty smile gracing her face as she wrapped her arms around his shoulders, her fingers playing the the hair at the nape of his neck. Rowan wound his arms around her waist and kissed her on the cheeks, the tips of her nose, the corner of her lips and then her mouth.

Aelin hummed contentedly and kissed him back. When they broke apart, she rested her forehead against his.

“We're insane.”

Rowan laughed deeply at the sudden statement. “What makes you say that?”

“We're having a fifth baby. Lorcan and Elide only have three and I always thought that they'd have at least a dozen, but they don't and we're about to have five. That's insane. We're insane.”

“We are, but I like that about us,” he said, kissing her again. Her face was open and soft, her eyes dancing with happiness, but he still found himself asking, “Are you okay with it?”

“Of course I am, buzzard. More than words can say.” Aelin kissed him to emphasise that fact, his hand reaching down onto her belly and was content to stay like that forever. She couldn’t believe how lucky she was. She always thought that she’d just have one child, maybe two, but to have five was something she never dreamed of.

Isolde finally decided to wake up and scream her displeasure at being hungry. Aelin was off him in an instant, cooing at their daughter as Aelin sat back in her seat and fed not just herself, but Isolde at the same time. His mate was spectacular at multitasking like that.

They couldn't wait to meet their fifth child.

X X X X X X

Rowan was surprised that his children hadn't kicked down the doors to the bedchamber with how excited they were. Even little Isolde was a ball of energy and she was by far their most quiet child. Rowan lead them to their mother, reminding them that they had to be quiet and gentle, because mama had just gone through a long process of bringing in their new sibling into the world.

They entered the bedchamber and Aelin greeted them with a tired but loving smile telling them to come meet their new sister, the kids went onto the bed, surrounding Aelin and the baby, happiness and wonderment in their eyes as they took in the little bundle of joy, her silver hair stark against her lightly tanned skin. She had opened her eyes briefly during her first feeding and Aelin had groaned playfully when she spotted that they were pine-green, muttering how of course I labour for a whole day to give birth to another you. But he knew that she didn't care if she was born with green hair and yellow eyes, Aelin loved her immensely.

“What's her name, mama?” Elentiya asked softly, carefully trailing a finger down her sisters cheek.

“Elowynn-Yrene.” Rowan would never forget the pure joy in Yrene's eyes when Aelin asked if the healer would give them her blessing to grace their child with her name, as a thank you for all the years of coming down and helping Aelin, for eradicating Erawan, and for being a great friend to both of them. It had taken them a few minutes to convince their friend, citing that the honour was far too much, but Yrene eventually said "yes".

“That's pretty,” Alder supplied, a wide smile on his face. Aelin kissed his temple and thanked him for his kind words.

Aelin moved her eyes from Alder to Rowan, smiling as her mate stood there, taking them in.

His family, their family. Never did he think he would be so blessed to have this.

His and Aelin's children; the most beautiful thing Rowan had ever seen.

Rowan went and joined his family on the bed, the smile on his face one of Aelin's favourites.

[animefreak1145]

For Whom the Bell Tolls(Adler x Bell!Reader)

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Chapter 3| How Little We Know of What There is To Know

Chapter Summary:

Pretending and being numb is the key.

Yet Adler always manages to bring some emotion out of you.

Cold War Reset AU| Undertale Reset AU

Warnings: Torture, Brainwashing, Manipulation, Possible Non-Con/Dub-Con, Trauma

A/N: Where pineapple is the nectar of the gods and scars are lightning.

“Bell”

Second Life

23:09 | February 25, 1981

CIA SAFEHOUSE E9, “DIE LANDEBAHN”

You rubbed your dry eyes as you stared at your notes all over the desk you’ve chosen as your little corner, the large bulky computer taking up space but you’ve made do by moving the brick that is the keyboard as much as you could off to the side. Your papers held inks of different colors—although they were only red, blue, and black and yellow highlights—and you had a stack of folders behind the computer that were from the CIA and MI6 archives. You had Kraus’ ledger off to your side, headphones on top of it for you to hear the audio of U.S. cities and numbers. Your fourth mug of coffee of the day was already gone and you would grab another just to enjoy the warm liquid to go down your throat instead of the caffeine itself, you were always one of late night’s either way.

The safehouse was quiet outside the hum of the generator and the lights above. Most of the crew gone. Outside of your absent tapping of a pen against your messy notes and the white of a nearby fan for extra circulation, the main open area of the safehouse was a desert.

If you focused deeply, you can hear mumbles and murmurs that you can’t make out coming from the office. Adler has been in there for awhile talking over the phone. To who, you don’t know but you have your suspicions. You just hope the subject is not about you being suspicious—the talk on the roof was a slight on your part earlier.

You truly don’t know what came over you. But you need to watch your mouth and expressions. Adler is perceptive, deadly and ever watchful of a person’s micro expressions and body language.

You can’t mess up.

A shot rings. And a heart splinters.

“It was never personal.”

You really can’t.

Which is why, you have been focused solely on decoding the entire day. Your eyes scanning and assessing the acquired Intel from the Volkov mission for Operation Chaos and Operation Red Circus. You have the knowledge on how to solve them but you are lacking needed Intel to help finish Operation Red Circus.

Operation Chaos was tricky. With two pieces of evidence outside of the newspaper, it being the audio log and the paper that had the coded message. Earlier in the morning, you wrote down all the possible numbers the missing parts of the code be—trying to find the pattern in the set of red and blue numbers. You were writing down the possibilities, your paper looking chaotic with arrows and numbers and cities that could coincide with said numbers.

After the quick checkup of your head with Adler, all firm and gentle touches with you keeping your eyes to the side or down as he fulfilled why he got the alias Doc—treatments of gun wounds and cuts to bayonets, complete trust he’ll take care of you as he would lecture or tighten a bandage a tad too tight in reprimand due to a reckless action—and kept quiet as he did so outside of a soft yes or no when he asked  about the pain, you moved to go to work. Ignoring the feel of his gaze on you as you did so. Park coming to your desk after you moved your stuff from the center table to your chosen corner to begin, papers already everywhere and scattered as you tried to organize it in a manner you could only understand, a mug close to her mouth and a cocked brow at the mess.

“There’s a way to keep it a bit more clean and less like a junk pile,” the British woman said, amused as you made a distracted sound, squinting at the coded language in your hand as papers rustled. “And when I gave you my advice, I didn’t think you would take it so seriously. There’s a better desk you could’ve chosen as your own, Bell.”

You blinked, giving Park a confused look.

“Advice?”

Park making an obvious glance to the center table in front of the evidence board, you automatically following it. Only to turn back to your paper once you noticed Adler’s form by the table, cigarette in his hand as he stared down at his own files.

"From one woman to another, give him a wide berth."

“. . . I just needed some space to focus. I’m sure Adler wouldn’t like all my papers everywhere around him either way.” You could still feel the ghost of his touch on your head and your hand. You wanted to erase it. “But I don’t mind staying close just in case. Easier to hand things to you or him whenever I’m done.”

“Someone sounds confident,” Park commented with a sip of her coffee, making your own lips twitch for a moment as you replied that you are the best as you moved some papers around. Than, in a quiet murmur with a quick dart back to Adler’s direction, “Distractions are best to be avoided. . .”

“What was that?” You asked, placing everything in a pile as well trying to keep some of them up by leaning the papers on the computer screen and failing as they slid down. You heard Park release an exasperated humored huff through her nose just as you heard her step away only for you to have a black leather gloved hand in your face with sticky notes. “What is. . .”

“Oh come now. I am sure it’d be easier if you used these. Make sense of this chaos. I guess there is some fact of what people say about geniuses and their rooms,” she motioned the sticky note pad again as you stared at it. The papers were yellow but new. Unused, outside of a crinkle at an edge.

“Where am I?”

“Who am I?”

“What is happening?”

“Why can’t you remember?”

“D o  y o u  h e a r  i t ? ”

“Who is Perseus?”

“Tell me who I am!”

Blood forms the words, as if with a finger.

“They want to kill you.”

“Make it stop.”

“MK”

Words pressed on the page, over and over and over with harsh penmanship and you don’t understand what’s happening. What is this room? And that man. . .  Why does it hurt? Is this helping Russell?

Pain

           Pain          Pain              боль

                    боль

   Pain                                         Pain

              боль

Pain        Pain                   Pain

          Pain         Pain    Pain                

боль                                                              боль

It hurts.

GlockeGlockeGlockeG̷̟̩͙̏͌ḽ̸̊̿o̵̦̓͝c̵̭̯̊́ḱ̷̛̼͌͊e—

You turned away back to your papers, jaw tight.

“I’m good. Sticky notes can be a pain. Thank you, Park.” Park lowered her hand, giving you a questioning stare in the back of your head. You sighed, turning your head over your lowered shoulders. “I’m going to try to finish this today but I think I’m missing a few pieces of Intel. You can give me other things to decode for MI6 in the meanwhile.”

Park frowned delicately, lowering her mug.

“That sounds like a hefty workload. And I believe it would be best if we put all our focus into Perseus for now.”

No. You have to be useful.

“It’ll be fine,” you say, searching for a paper and giving it to her while Park grabbed it. “I solved that part of the code already. The other intel we got from Kraus, I’m going to need more information in order to figure out who exactly can be Strong Man, Bearded Lady, and the Juggler. I can’t go forward with that so might as well help with other codes you guys may have trouble with. What did you imply?” You ask with faux curiosity, your lips twitching up before falling as you wrote something down. “That I’m a genius?”

“Smartarse.” Park retorted, although she seemed to still hesitate but eventually she gave you three files where they seemed to be having trouble. You getting to work immediately to help as Park walked away and you hearing later on Park and Adler head to the office.

You did your best to not think too much of it. You have to keep at your work and make sure you’re capable and on task. You rather not get jabbed.

“We got a job to do.”

And although it might be inevitable, you would rather not have those words said to you as well. Even if it didn’t seem to have the same affect as before, the feeling and how your thoughts seemed to blur came back. Being aware you moved like a puppet and were one all along is not what you would like to focus on.

After you finished two of MI6’s files—had to do with KGB and how interesting they would use some quotes of Oscar Wilde’s 1984 hidden in the code as if the man was in support of communism with the work—with a hum mixed with impressed and curiosity from Park as she looked at the solved papers, your nose twitched at the scent of smoke and leather as you worked on the last MI6 folder.

“Stealing away my protege, Park?” Your hand around the pen paused before continuing, a plume of grey gathering above you. “And here I thought we have an equal partnership when it comes to this whole Perseus business. At least tell me you’re not wasting her time?”

“I wouldn’t call it stealing if she’s willing,” Park easily replied before handing him the two files to look over that you did, Adler scanning through it as she continued. “And it still has to do with our red friends. You sure are quick with the ball, Bell.”

“It’s nothing,” you say quietly, “Can’t exactly go forward so might as well help you with other codes that others can’t solve. Just send anymore my way. You too, sir.”

Adler made a distant hum, closing the files and handing it back to Park. You felt his stare at the back of your neck as you stared at the paper in front of you that might as well be nonsense since you sensed him.

Look at him, pup.

“If you wanted a more exciting challenge Bell, you could’ve asked. Always the type to leave no stone unturned and show off.”

“‘More exciting challenge’?” Park repeated, “Think MI6 codes are all flowers and rainbows compared to those in the CIA, Adler? I believe I recall that it was only Bell that could be able to solve the dossier instead of anyone else within your organization.”

Yeah, cause you brainwashed me, you thought bitterly but the two kept going as you could only sit in between. Nice to have to be a witness between these two again.

“Bell is the best CIA decoder we have,” you tightened your jaw in surprise instead of to tense when his hand landed on your shoulder, a gentle squeeze—in comfort, in belief, in trust, in camaraderie, in everything but what you wanted and what you needed, in order to control— as you lowered the paper in your hand. “As well as having a wide range of other skills. You think I would just call in any brain dead desk sitter for this operation?”

You could see in your mind’s eye how dizzy you would get before due to all this praise. Now, you just do your best to press your lips as your chest tightened.

You felt Park shift behind you, her looking at you in appraisal.

“You are one of a kind, Bell. Shame you were born in the wrong country. Having to have Adler here as your superior.”

You huffed through your nose in dry amusement at that. Irony not lost on you.

What a curse indeed.

You turned in your chair finally, lips quirked that didn’t quite meet your eyes as you pointed your thumb towards Adler.

“You should’ve seen him in ‘Nam if you think he’s bad now. Always with the lectures.”

You felt Adler release you, watching as he took an inhale as he did a small shrug in disinterest.

“You can be stubborn, Bell. If I couldn’t beat it out of you, I’ll talk it out of you.” You looked up and you could sense his eyes looking down at you behind those shades. “Although I feel like sometimes I’m wasting my breath. Your recklessness borders on insanity.”

“I think I can see why they put the both of you together than,” Park said, brow arched towards Adler and a certain look in her eyes towards him you couldn’t quite read. It looked like a warning. But what could that look be for? “Insanity breeds insanity as they say.”

They left you after that, you waving off Adler asking if you need a break. He took that as the okay to bring you CIA files for you to decode. Seems he has no trouble using you dry if you’re going to insist on it. Despite that, you took them and you were able to solve three.

Park came back towards your desk and saying you could have a break, again, you waved her off. As well as her concern you wouldn’t want to read into—is it real for you and your body, or is some sort of guilt that perhaps they gave you a strong dose for the memory exercise and you’re running on steam, is it fake or real, don’t break the puppet- so you didn’t. You telling Lazar the food you wish and him dropping it by your desk with his own comment that your brain might fall out and you saying you’ll be fine, even threw in a small joke that with his food your brain will be well nourished. Outside of your favorite brand of pumpkin seeds of course. Sims only made a stray comment about the stacks on your desk, getting tall as the day went on and turned to night. You don’t recall if you said something back. You probably did, Sims was always distant—you have trauma that’s not even real and have the gall to have some nightmares about it when he actually went through that horrible war and sees a therapist for it, you don’t know the war—so you would take what you would get.

Everyone eventually shuffled out, Park—her brows looking creased and a purse to her lips—back to the side of your desk before she left and saying you should rest and leave the rest tomorrow.

“I’ll finish the rest today,” you replied, resolute and determined as you wrote the next possible code from this possible radio station an ally of Perseus may be using. “No rest for the wicked. As they say,” you threw out additionally, an echo of her words earlier which made Park raise her brows. “It’s fine. Once I start something, I have to see it through. It helps I can be patient when it counts—at least with this.”

“You seem to take it literally. You’ve been at it since early this morning. You only moved I believe when Lazar brought your food and to use the washroom.” Once you shrugged and said that seems normal to do and you’re fine with that, you heard Park’s tone grow stronger in reprimand. “Yes, you’re fine. Tell me, is Adler stopping you from taking breaks?”

You stopped, looking at Park and her irritated expression.

“No. . . No, it’s just me.” So none of you stick me with that dreadful drug and dig around my brain. So I can show all of you I don’t need it—that you don’t need to do that. That I’m useful and more than an asset. Unneeded assets get thrown away. “I just—just don’t want to disappoint.”

"Disappoint? You've exceeded expectations at every turn, Bell. Disappoint who?"

You didn’t answer, only turned back around and continued with your pen. You heard Park mutter a curse before walking out, giving you a pat to your back and tell you you’re driving back with Adler than since he’s determined to work as well before leaving. Your eyes round down to your desk.

You’ll be alone together with him again.

You took a shaky breath, focusing on the paper in front of you.

You’ll be fine. Just keep what you’ve been doing. Pretend everything is okay.

Pretend his concern—the touch on your shoulders burned as he shook you, as if to erase your dark thoughts out of you, lifting you up with his hand easily with words of a concerned reliable friend commanding officer—is real. And his kindness—why did they save you, you’re useless, what use is an untrained dog—is real too.

Just don’t question it. You’ll go mad.

Mind your tongue as well—control yourself. You used to tease before with faux confidence when the both of you bantered, but you have to watch your spiteful and petty comments. You really don’t want him to give you a dose.

But if you feel like the path is leading you there, you have a way to get at least a semblance of control back.

Puppets don’t control the puppeteer.

“Bell.” You turned in attention, Adler by the center table as he motioned his head towards the garage door, cigarette in hand. “Time to go.”

You nodded once, getting up after fixing up your desk a bit. Grabbing your beanie turned ski mask and placing it back on your head instead of your face and walked over obediently as the both of you walked out through the side door.

Good dogs come when they listen.

✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯  ◁ ◁ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯

“Come on, you know I hate fruit cake! Just give me your pears, Singer!”

“Sorry, Bell,” Singer grinned, taking a big purposeful spoonful of pears from the can, teeth flashing. “Guess you have to deal with all of that yourself. Too bad you don’t have a connection to those who pass the MCI’s, huh?”

You quietly glared at him with no heat, the act almost making Singer choke on his precious pears that he could’ve given you. The choking action making him spit out some and towards you, you making a noise of disgust as you punched the laughing man harshly to his shoulder as vengeance. It made him wince as the others around the campsite laughed at the two of you—the sun still above and the Vietnam jungle loud with birds and the trees moving against the wind. Although not really a campsite you would say since there no fire. Can’t have any eyes on them to go towards smoke.

‘They know these jungles better than us’ as Adler says.

Speaking of Adler, you turned towards him where he leaned against a thick great Banyan tree local to this country—the trunk thick just like the branches that spiral even to the floor. They were all actually hidden in the alcove of this tree, the space enough for them until they kept going to their destination. A beautiful yet haunting tree with its dark and smooth bark all around. You overheard once by Lee and other South Vietnam soldiers in base that these trees can have spirits inside. Dangerous they said for some of them. You don’t think these ‘spirits’ ever met Adler.

You could see Adler’s lips were up in amusement due to your predicament despite his war paint, raising his brow over his black shades when he noticed your gaze.

Before you even fully lifted your hand with the can of horrendous fruit cake, he shook his head at you, lips going even more into a smile.

“Don’t even try, kid. I fucking hate fruit cake myself,” he adjusted himself against the tree and the gun in his lap. The food of his MCI basically gone outside the crackers and canned pineapple. “Disgusting things. I don’t know who’s bright idea was it to have hard pieces of fruit and dry raisins in cake.”

That’s what you’re saying!

“Please, Adler. I gave you my cigs already, at least give me some of your pineapple?”

Sims laughed beside you, nudging your shoulder with his and shaking his head in disbelief.

“You think Doc is gonna give you some of his golden nectar away? Might as well have asked him to give his cigs along with his lighter.”

“Not happening, Bell.” Adler answered casually, finishing up his crackers and swiping his hands against his pants before moving to the can. “Besides, not like you smoke anyways. The cigs would just sit there pretty in the box if you don’t hand it to me. Unless you want to try to smoke again. It went well last time.”

“Didn’t she choke?” Singer teased around a mocking grin. It made his youthful face boyish and eyes bright. “Almost hacked out a lung didn’t you?”

Larson, who was quiet between Singer and Adler, spoke up. Already finished with his food since he’s been mostly keeping to himself. This is the first official mission he’s had since he got the news. Poor guy.

“I remember that,” Larson said softly, looking towards you and you just took all their teases. You blame Adler. “It was after the drinking game between Butcher and Hamilton. You wanted to see the big deal about why everyone liked the nicotine.”

“Only for Doc to come to the rescue after Bell took one of his cigs,” Sims ended with a shit eating grin. You’ll kill him. “Surprised you’re still here and alive. Not from just avoiding choking on nothing either, but that you took a cig from him.”

“You guys bet that I couldn’t. . .” You muttered with narrowed eyes towards Sims who shushed you.

“What was that?” Adler asked, cocking his head only for Sims and Singer to shake their heads animatedly. Adler hummed doubtfully but dropped it.

“Never mind that! Just—“ You groaned, putting your head on your hands as you still held the can of fruit cake. “You think I can eat this shitty cake? The ‘raisins’,” you said the word doubtfully, “could be actual pieces of shit for all I know. It could explain the taste. And how hard it can be.”

Singer and Sims snorted next to you, on both sides while Larson actually cracked a grin as you raised your head and told them strongly to think about it! Adler shook his head, watching the jungle periodically in the open spaces of the alcove which all of you did to be cautious but the fruit cake debacle must be solved.

You turned your eyes towards Sims, spotting his fruit cocktail. Only for his hand to block it.

“Nope.”

“Come on!” Sims shook his head, opening the can and eating the fruit cocktail and you scowled. “All of you are shitheads. Now I’m gonna have to eat this.”

“Damn straight you do,” Adler reaffirmed, stern yet you could spot he found your curse to all of them, him included, funny based on his arched brows. “No wasting MCI’s. You know the drill, Bell.”

You grunted unhappily at Adler, but you knew he was right. Which is why you wanted to trade in the first place. Food shouldn’t be wasted, no matter how heinous.

You took a spoonful after managing to cut into the hard cake, Sims laughing in your face and you could spot Larson keeping his smile at your disgruntled expression only for it to deepen when you took a bite.

You tried to distract yourself through bites by asking Adler how far away they were from their destination. Adler answering after they reach the next nearest foxhole which is two hours away, it will be another six till they reach where they need to be.

“Hue is a mess right now. With us additional reinforcements, we’re going to aim for stealth and go around and take out as much as we can.” Adler explained as they all attentively listened. They can’t mess up. “We’ve been able to give them a lot of damage last I heard, with one final push of us taking out some of them when they’re scrambling—we’ll consider the Battle of Hue a win. Of course, if there’s more than we can handle, we’ll stick to recon and head back around to tell command at the Hue MACV compound we have there.”

“And the civvies?” Larson asked.

“Don’t shoot ‘em.” Was all Adler said before they all moved to clean up and move on after you and Sims finished up.

You having to force to swallow and chew the cake and packing up the trash. They can’t leave anything else it can be used to track or find them.

Larson, Sims, and Singer were outside the alcove—waiting for you to finish as you smacked your lips as if that could take away the taste in your mouth as you grumbled. You moved to go out where Adler was as he stood by the opening to head out. You spotted something on the ground where he previously sat.

“You left something, sir,” you say, growing near to pick up the can. Huh, it’s not empty.

Adler turned his head over his shoulder, expression questioning.

“Whatcha mean, kid? That’s yours isn’t it?” You frowned, looking down at the can only for your eyes to widen. There was some pieces of pineapple left, a little less than half of the can gone but it’s something. He turned his head back as he muttered. “Don’t expect this to happen again. Not here to spoil you, Bell.”

“Don’t expect you to, sir.”

“Just pick up the trash and move it, kid.”

You grinned, knocking back the can and easily and quickly eating it. The juices spilling down your chin and neck but you didn’t care as you licked your lips. The taste of disgusting shit cake gone.

You packed the can quickly, swiping your chin with the back of your hand as the both of you walked to where the others were.

“Thanks,” you said to him softly.

“For telling you to pick up your trash?” Adler answered easily and you smiled knowingly but let it go.

Such a hard ass.

✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ▷ ▷ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯

The car ride was silent, passing street lights and empty cafe’s whizzing by and enlightening the car for a mere moment before it would be enveloped in darkness once more until the next light comes. You were staring out the window as they passed the streets of Berlin, the sounds of the wiper periodically occurring due to the light rain occurring. Not many people out at this time of night, nearing midnight unless you were a working girl or at the local bar. Some wisps of smoke remained in the car despite Adler on his side having his window slightly open. Your eyes watching as it moved lazily and glancing towards the quiet, relaxed man next to you before you would turn to look back out. Curious to see more of the city besides in the backstreets and being stealthy.

You didn’t see much last night after Volkov, you falling asleep in the car as Park drove you. You were too out of it when they arrived at the hotel, just absentmindedly listening and nodding along to Park’s directions and promptly knocking out once you reached your room on the bed. Only to awake once more at the alarm you or someone else must’ve set early in the morning.

You were focusing on that instead of the last time you were in the car with Adler.

“You’ll like where we’re going. Trust me.”

You took a sneaky glance towards the man once more, just as the man exhaled out a cloud of smoke that you watched. Enraptured in how it moved to and fro lithely, easily as your nose took in the smell before you glanced back at Adler, the side facing you being his ‘good’ side.

You wonder once more of his scar that accentuated this man’s beauty—all harsh lines that created a map that even now you wish to trace. For someone like this to earn the title America’s Monster, all styled wheat hair, suede shades, and an easy, wry tone—it should at least match the title.

Than again, you thought with faltering wax wings and of another—the fall of a devil with none. It was never about his looks was it?

“It’s a small price to pay.”

What does that make you?

“Alright, kid,” he says, taking out of your stupor as you stared fully at the man now. Smoke releasing out his mouth as he spoke, making you lower your gaze to it. “I’ll bite. What do you want to ask me? Must be a juicy question since you keep burning holes to the side of my face.”

Embarrassment colored your face, caught, as you quickly adjusted your gaze to straight ahead and instead watching raindrops going down the windshield.

“It’s nothing.”

“Mmm. For some reason, I can’t believe that. What did I say before?”

You said a lot of things before, you thought with a sad frown. But you knew what he was referring to. Always wants to be the one you tell all your worries and concerns to. Before, you thought it was genuine. Now, you just see it as how it was—a cloak to observe and make sure if your true real memories came or if they needed to give you a dose.

“Your scar,” you began as he tilted his head towards you, hair moving as he did so as he kept his one hand casually to the wheel while the other was leaning against his door. You didn’t get distracted by it. “How’d you get it? There’s a story there.”

“Scar?” He asked in false confusion, still stoic outside of a cocked brow and making your lips twitch up despite yourself. Before motioning with his cigarette hand towards his face. “You mean this? Is it noticeable?” At your unamused huff though your nose, he continued. “Back in ‘73, I was nearly killed by a tiger while on a mission in Malaysia. But human ingenuity still runs the animal kingdom.” He turned his head towards you when they reached a light, his brows rising above his glasses. “You ever been attacked by a tiger, Bell?”

You stared at him in disbelief before releasing a surprised snort. The nerve of this man.

“You’re lying. That’s not from a tiger, it would be worse than that. You and your need to tell stories. . .” You mumbled the last part, you don’t think he heard that.

“Didn’t know you were an expert on tigers, Bell. Got a degree in zoology under your belt that I don’t know about? What makes you think I’m lying?”

“Because—“ That’s not what you said last time. You stopped, a realization going through you. Because of course he’ll lie to you about this too. Worse kind of crowd, your ass. “If you got that from a tiger than I must be a distant cousin of Joseph Stalin.”

“That unbelievable, huh?” He said more than asked, amused at your sarcasm as you looked at him with crossed arms as the car moved once more. “Fine. I’ll give. I jumped on a roof in Calcutta back in ‘75 while chasing a Soviet agent. The jump was successful . . . the landing not so much. Advice: always know where the utility poles are.” At your deadpanned look when he glanced at you, his lips quirked into a humored smirk. “That one didn’t hit the mark for you either? Was it the jump?”

You shook your head, a small groan leaving your lips as you leaned your head against the dashboard.

“Anybody who’s anybody can jump from roof to roof,” you replied, staring at your leather boots—forehead pressed against the dashboard and maintains it there even as they turned or there was a bump. “You know that. Just like you know a utility pole would’ve either choked you or electrocuted you. At least with electrocution it’d be more scars throughout instead of that part of your face.”

“Watch the cockiness, kid.” He reprimanded but than, “You’re right though. Roof jumps the standard when it comes to our work. But you’re really confident that I don’t have any other scars throughout the rest of me. Know something I don’t?” Your eyes darted towards him, wide and as they passed a street light, you noticed he was peering down at you in turn. Your skin burned as you looked away and mumbled no while staring at your very interesting shoes. The man hummed. “How about this. You know what they say about kids falling in with a bad crowd? Let’s just say I fell in with the worst part of a bad crowd. The girl wasn’t worth it, believe me.”

At your silence, he glanced at you.

“What? That’s the one you believe?” You gave a small shrug. When he first told you that, you didn’t ask any more questions. It sounded personal the way he said it. Truthful. Adler always lies. “What makes this one believable? The lack of a specific date or are you a sucker for romance, Bell?”

You threw him a meaningful look up at him. Not feeling the need to say anything. At his arched brow though, you opened your mouth.

“Your ex-wife.”  His brow flattened at that. Something shifting in the air. “Was she worth it?”

A beat. A passing of street lights. The pitter patter of rain against the car.

“A romantic than. . .Never saw you as the type.” At your probing stare and his silence, you turned away. Seeing he won’t answer—too private. You’re a fool to even think he will say the truth at all. “Once.” You blinked, turning your eyes back up and lifting your head in attention as America’s Monster—a secret, a peek through the shades, a hint of something real besides the cold, black abyss, what are you Russell Adler—spoke ever so softly. A sardonic turn of chapped lips. “You can say we had a difference of opinion. Not much to it.”

There was more but you will take what you can get.

You thought of the memories you had, of friends you once believed were your own. Of little moments in beaches and camps and villages when all was calm and not chaotic with smell of burnt bodies or blood or how it feels to stab a bayonet through someone’s chest in defense. You could see them as clearly as any other memory you had. And feel it.

You thought of the poor soldier leaving a war only to get into another one in his home country.

“Larson. . .” you murmured, Adler hearing as he released a dry chuckle.

“Sort of like Larson. The poor bastard.” You watched him take a deep inhale, the cigarette almost a near stub. And you realize when that happens, he’s stressed. As stressed as a man like him could be. You’ve seen him in many moments in Vietnam. Not always the best. You wonder if that was another reason for your death. Adler exhaled a puff before having to throw the cigarette out the window with a flick, putting the window all the way up. “I don’t see why you’re so interested either way. Scars aren’t that impressive. Unless you always had a habit about asking for one’s ugly mug.”

You darted up at his eyes, shaded as they were, trying to sense if he was being serious.

Because he couldn’t be.

Not this man, with strikes of lightning upon his face as if Zeus did it himself. All power. Grace. Strength. Different from your barely functioning wax wings as you struggle to fly. Only able to watch and hope a falling demon crashes to its death—all harsh and slow.

What are you, Russell Adler?

Perhaps he is Zeus himself.

Perhaps how Adler got his scar was harsh retribution to control lightning, his scars even mimic those powerful strikes across his face. All strength. And all beauty. Those who survived struck by lightning always have the most beautiful marks upon their skin indicating their survival—you are selfishly bias though. Even now, you admit with self-loathing. The rougher marks on his face is all grace and you could wonder how he truly got it instead of fantasizing him as a God Of Lightning who mistook his own power upon his face.

It would only make sense. Both beautiful men, although you’ve never met the Greek God.

They both also have a habit of hurting women.

He’s all of that, while you could only hope with your squeaky levers and ropes and feathered wax can go up to said Mount Olympus where he was. A naïveté where you think you’re close with tired and sore arms only to be burnt away. A free fall down to the abyss.

Good pups stay in their place.

“You’re joking.” You accuse seriously as you stared up at him, your head against the dashboard but tilted slightly in his direction.

Adler tilted his head down slightly to stare down at you, a brow arched at your look.

“About?”

You didn’t say anything.

Just meaningfully looked up at him through your lashes, staring at his jaw that was strong as if Michaelengelo carefully carved it himself with minute details with his trusted mallet and chisel until dawn with a candle on his head due to determined ingenuity. Observing how the collar of his shirt did not do a good job in hiding his neck, his favorite jacket failing in that too so you could take it in. Not one strand was mussed or out of place on his head, all volume and thickness as your gloved hand twitched by your knee.

You than met the shades, in turn meeting his eyes as your heart seemed to pound as he stared down at you back. A look passing through his eyes too quick for you to catch, besides what you saw in your peripherals. The hand on the wheel tightening an iota as the air shifted to something heavier, blood pumping as your mind thought of reasons as to why which you pushed away. Impossible.

You licked your dry lips nervously, Adler’s expression seeming to tense when his eyes followed the action. You turned away, looking back down except to play with the ends of your gloves, neck hot and spreading.

You still felt his stare before he focused back onto the road.

They didn’t speak the rest of the ride.

Foolish dog should mind their eyes.

✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ▷ ▷ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯

You couldn’t sleep much when you reached your room, another floor to Adler’s and near Park’s, and not just due to how you were more one with the night.

You opened Pandora’s Box—something forbidden coming out into the world as you thought back to the meaningful stare between you and Adler in the car. That even the thought makes your heart pound once more. Your brain further muddling and melting away the more you spend time alone with that man. Whether in being caught in his pace or just the mere thought of what he’s done.

Although, you suppose you already opened a Pandora’s Box. Possibly even darker than the one you discovered.

If the monster in man’s skin was Zeus—he created the box in the first place. Except he wished to hide it from you and keep you willfully ignorant instead of tease you to release envy and greed and disease out in the world. You managed to open it—and it was none of those things, it was cruel and inhumane to you all the same.

Take this needle and follow the story, do the trick.

If only that box stayed close.

Zeus always did like to confuse.

✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ◁ ◁ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯

You let out a heavy sigh, hand mussing your hair harshly as you chewed your lips, staring at the paper on the center table of the safehouse.

“Having trouble?”

You slightly jumped as Adler, who was quiet in the seat across and to the side of you, spoke. Looking mildly curious at all the papers on your side of the table before taking a small puff. You sighed, looking back down at the paper in slight frustration.

“Just a little. Whoever made this code created a difficult to encrypt language. I have some of the numbers though already, it’s just the rest. I’ve never seen such an elaborate one before. . .” You said in thought as you tapped your pen against the paper. “I have to say, it’s impressive.”

Adler hummed idly, taking note of your words.

“Perhaps you need a sort of incentive.”

You moved your eyes up in confusion, wondering what that could mean. Only to stop once you noticed what was in his opposite hand not holding his precious cigarette.

It was a picture—a polaroid specifically. But not just any one. You stared at your oldest friend in the picture, taken on the rooftops in East Berlin, his face tilted down and a level of focus and calm as he stared down below in his crouched position. The lights behind him giving him an ethereal glow, a mix of white, red, and blue as those shades on his face gave a little glint due to it.

You reached a hand to see it better only for Adler to click his tongue, taking the picture back closer to him with a shake of his head.

“Sorry, kid. Can’t exactly be incentive if I gave it to you easily like that. You seem eager though.” Adler arched a brow at you. “Any reason as to why?”

Your cheeks prickle as you cursed in your mind. Why didn’t you get the film from the red room or Park yourself? You thought of a T.V. turning on it’s own, flashbacks to what happened in Vietnam on the screen, the memory sobering you up. You still. . .haven’t told Adler about that. He’ll call you soft and put you solely in the safehouse with no more field missions. You hate his disappointment. Still though, you recall you were determined to get it. A quick in and out but than. . . something? Something. . . happened?

At your brows furrowing deeply, Adler’s own brows furrowed and you answered his silent question as you touched your head.

“Sorry. . . That coma I woke up from still has done a number on me.”

“You did get shot twice, Bell. You have issues with always trying to push me out the way, even back in ‘Nam.” You smiled at his tease. You did have a protective streak. But only for certain people—even if you knew Adler could handle himself, you would do what you must for him if he told you an order. Or even go against it if it involved him doing something stupid like a sacrificial mission. You’d follow him anywhere. “Don’t think too much on it. I’m sure the rest of your memories will come back soon enough.  Just remember in the end that mission was a success.”

“Whatever it takes, sir.” You said, a phrase that he spoke often back in the war. Which you would repeat. You would always do what you must.

Adler’s expression shadowed as he nodded once.

“Whatever it takes,” he glanced at the polaroid in his hand, it facing him as he seemed to stare in thought before turning his gaze towards you. Your expression curious as you wondered what he was thinking before he turned the picture back towards you, brow up inquisitively. “Well, Bell? Don’t think you’re going to dodge the question as to why you want this? I went through a bit of trouble to let Park let me have it. She’s stubborn when she wants to be.”

You slightly scowled at him, feeling the blush once more.

You hated when he did that blasted rhyme!

You also had a sense there was more to him asking Park but you were too busy trying to defend yourself. Not think about their daily quiet pissing match.

“I like taking pictures. It’s an art form. Every artist would like to have their own paintings,” you said, tone even and you wanted to pat yourself in the back for that.

Adler rose both his brows now.

“Really?” The way he said it made it seem he doubted you. “Not a photographer. Was never really interested in art either so maybe that’s why I can’t relate. Still. It’s a good picture, my good side and all. Can see why you would want it.”

You restrained yourself from saying what you wanted like last time. That basically you would want that picture even if it was on his scarred side.

“It had good lighting.” You added as Adler stared at his picture, cigarette being held in his lips. He turned back towards you, glasses slightly falling from his nose and you could see a hint of his eyes. A tease. You stared. His lips curved around the cigarrette, amused and indulging. You panicked. “I-It does!”

“I didn’t say anything. But say, the sooner you finish that code, the sooner you can have this—“ he paused, waving the hand with the polaroid”—piece of art of yours. Never thought I would say that but I guess there’s a first for everything.” He pocketed the picture back in his jacket, blowing his smoke away from you before he stood up and headed towards Sims only to add over his shoulder, “I’ll leave you to it. I know you got this.”

You stared as he walked over, the belief he had in you with those words moving around in your brain. You moved back to work, pointedly ignoring Lazar’s whistle—him able to hear some of what occurred no doubt. You threw him an impolite gesture that only made the man laugh as you focused on the code. It took you three tiring and near sleepless nights, but you finished. Adler handing you the photo in between his fingers as you took it gently, trying not to crinkle the photo further as Adler watched you behind his shades as you held the photo, taking a thoughtful inhale of his cigarette before looking away. Looking around their surroundings outside the safehouse. Their break time spot.

“You sure got talent, kid.”

“You should know by now to not doubt me, Russ,” you replied, your eyes still on the photo between your gloved hands. “Only the best of the best with you. Just took me longer than I thought.”

“Watch that confidence doesn’t blind you one day, Bell.”

“You first.”

He chuckled at that, breathless and surprised making you stare up with wide eyes. The sound rare. Adler tapped the end of his cigarette, ash going on the ground as he stared towards the doors of the safehouse, an echo of a smile on his face. Barely there. Others wouldn’t see it, but you’ve known Adler for years.

“You got guts. And spunk. Met my match with you it seems, kid. You know me too well. . .” Adler took a puff, deep as he trailed off, shades dark.

“That’s not a bad thing,” you say, lowering the photo in your hand. “Sims does too. Can’t exactly get rid of us that easy.”

“Sims has been through many missions with me, but not as much as you.” Adler explained calmly. “Some of those, I’m taking to my grave. If I breathe a word about it, I’ll have a bunch of people up my ass.”

You sense as if this was like a conversation from years ago, on a beach. Quiet and away from everyone in the camp, just the two of you talking about realities and soldiers. You think about that memory a lot.

You recall some of the memories he’s referring to.

You half shrugged, pocketing the photo in your bomber jacket as you leaned against the wall of the safehouse.

“What can you do? It was necessary. Besides, I can’t exactly tell anyone else either, Adler. Brutality is sometimes necessary. That’s all I know.” You paused, tilting your head and throwing a teasing smirk his way to get him out this weird mood. “Don’t tell me America’s Monster actually cares what other people say?”

Adler deeply exhaled in exasperation, smoke coming out his nose.

“Don’t tease me, Bell. You know I can’t give a shit.”

“Than what’s the problem? You do what needs to be done. Make the tough calls. You know. . . you know I understand right?” You asked carefully. “I’m with you when it comes to doing what we must. To protect what we need to.”

Adler was silent. He never answered.

You didn’t push him. Didn’t feel the need.

You understood him the best.

Only monsters can see one another, after all.

✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ▌▌✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯

Monsters, you’ve come to know, are also a certain kind of creature that takes what they need.

To want. Selfish and uncaring and you should be concerned at how easily you take in those traits.

Too busy to worry about regular people—the mundane. There are bigger things to be focused on than other’s opinions on what actions are necessary.

You and Adler can give not one fuck about others. They know what they are and will accept the titles from others with a nod.

What you’re coming to find however, that even with monsters, there’s different breeds.

You basically reiterated to him that what he did with you was necessary. Needed. Sound brutality at its finest. You feel like you can’t even argue.

What is better—loyalty to a country or to people?

You’re trapped.

.

.

.

I have a problem. This story is going to be long when it was supposed to be short. Oh well. 

Also, hot take maybe, I love both Soft!Adler and Dark!Adler so let’s just have both sides of him shall we? Wait…is Adler truly soft here? Who knows.

DM me if you wish to be tagged please. ^////^

Tags:

@quizzyisdone @zulema117-blog @efingart  @pinkpinkboota @nuclear-boston @lifeisthemoments @jintana-critical @eclectriccanoeseven @hurricanesyd-blog @parkeepingparker @moonchild365-blog @aurora-windu @imperfectophelia @dvesinthewind @holy-crap-i-am-russlle-adler @i-will-give-you-love @adlerboi @preciouslilcreature @saynotohydra @mayaibnlaahad @smokeywhalee @0shuni0-blog @multi-fandom-imagine @littlepotatowizard  @direwolfspostsrandomshit @darlingor @collinnmckinley @kayalect @nikkibell1937 @fuzzybonkeggsopera @ppfedd @bro0kebxrter @actuallyilya @stayb1ack @frankwoodsmalewife @tr1ppylady @danjer

[becomewings]

BTS Universe Timeline

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TIMELINE GUIDE

Content warning: contains references to death, suicide, suicidal ideation, child abuse, domestic violence, blood, homicide, depression, trauma, PTSD

This guide contains major spoilers from all BU media

Revisions and additions will be made as necessary, so please visit the original post for the most up-to-date version (update log is included at bottom of post)

All names are provided as fully as known

Bracketed dates are inferred or calculated from references in the text

While the timeline is presented here as objectively as possible, I acknowledge that there is a level of subjectivity in choosing which information is significant enough for inclusion and in certain connections drawn between entries

Please inform me of any suspected errors; I will investigate and correct them

Do not repost, copy, or quote without permission

School Years: Together & Apart

    - March Year 19 through 10 April Year 22 -

2 March Year 19 Notes 1 (SJ)

Ten days after returning from the U.S., SeokJin and his father visit the principal’s office at his new school. SeokJin learns that he will start one grade lower due to the different education systems. SeokJin’s father grips his shoulder while the principal explains that school is a “dangerous place” that needs to be “tightly controlled.” He asks: “You know you have to keep me informed, right? You’ll be a good student, right?” SeokJin squeezes out a “yes” and his father lets go. Both ChangJun and the principal laugh. SeokJin looks down at their shining shoes, wondering from where the light is coming.

Note: SeokJin’s 25 June Year 19 entry in Notes 1 specifies that his father attended the same high school. JiMin’s 23 July Year 22 entry in Notes 2 reveals that, according to a comment he finds on an online news article, ChangJun and the principal were in school at the same time and fought with each other “as if it would only end when one of them dropped dead,” but they appeared to get along later due to politics.

3 March Year 19 BTS Universe Story: The Boy on the Threshold, ep.1

On the first day of school at Songju Jeil High School, the Dean of Students berates the six latecomers lined up outside: SeokJin, NamJoon, HoSeok, JiMin, TaeHyung, and JungKook. YoonGi arrives even later. The Dean assigns them one month of community service as punishment. When he notices SeokJin, he clears his throat and says he is letting them off because it’s the first day: they must all assemble after classes to clean the annex, a classroom turned into a storage room. This room becomes their meeting place and hideout even after their punishment is finished.

Note: Their punishment for being late is referenced in JiMin’s 12 March Year 19 entry in Notes 1, when he escapes to the old classroom again and finds the others already there. He observes that it feels as though they’ve been “hanging out together forever.” The punishment scene is also similar to a moment in the BTS Begins Middle Scene VCR. Although it includes a few extra students and cannot be confirmed as BU content, it does mirror the canonical detail of YoonGi arriving last.

28 May Year 19 Notes: Answer

In the classroom hideout, JungKook asks everyone what their dreams are because he has to write a paper about future hopes. SeokJin wants to become a good person, and YoonGi says it’s okay to have no dream. TaeHyung poses on a chair and says he’s going to be a superhero. HoSeok scolds him and adds that he wants to find his mom and live happily. JiMin asks him if he is unhappy now, and HoSeok pulls an exaggeratedly worried expression. “Is that how it works?” JiMin is flustered when HoSeok asks what his dream is and remembers that when he was in preschool he wanted to be president, but didn’t know what he wanted after that. Everyone looks at NamJoon, who shrugs and confesses that while he wants to say something nice, he doesn’t have a dream either and just wishes that his part-time job pays more. JungKook looks down at his assignment, divided into sections for “student” and “parent,” and wonders what he hopes to become. He can’t think of anything to write.

12 June Year 19 — The Sea Notes 1

YoonGi’s entry:

All seven boys cut school and decide to go to the sea. They have little money between them, so they must walk to the train station. As they leave, YoonGi almost bumps into JiMin and realizes that he is standing frozen with a trembling face. JiMin stares at a sign that reads “2.1km to Grass Flower Arboretum.” YoonGi flatly tells him that it’s too hot to go to the arboretum. He has an “instinctive feeling” that they should avoid it. He observes that JiMin walks away like a little kid, head bent and shoulders hunched.

JungKook’s entry:

The boys arrive at the beach. They hang around under a torn parasol until HoSeok holds up a discovery on his phone: a large rock that is supposed to grant your dream if you stand atop it and shout your dream out to the sea. TaeHyung encourages them to go. While they grumble in the heat on the long trek, JungKook reflects on how he had recently asked the others what their dreams were. (See 28 May Year 19.) None of them really have a dream to pursue.

YoonGi tells JungKook to stop biting his nails or else they’ll become like his. Then he asks JungKook what his dream is. Having never thought about it, JungKook doesn’t know. He hesitates and then asks what a dream is. HoSeok rattles off a few definitions from his phone. YoonGi questions, “How can something that you want to achieve most in your life and something that is unlikely to come true both be called a dream? … Don’t ever try to have a dream.” JungKook asks why. At his glance, YoonGi stops biting his nails and puts his hands in his pockets. “Because it’s tough having one.” JungKook is curious about why YoonGi bites his nails but doesn’t ask. He recalls that it has been a habit since his childhood to hurt himself. He remembers cutting his finger on a knife badly enough that his mom took him to the hospital, but she didn’t take care of him after they went home. His wound healed slowly because he kept pressing it; the pain helped him feel awake. Even now, he sometimes feels hollow.

TaeHyung asks how much longer they have to walk. HoSeok is puzzled, saying they should be close. They gaze around the empty, pebbled beach. JiMin sighs and reads aloud from an article on his phone. A resort will be built on this beach, and the construction company blew up the rock. They notice the cordoned off construction zone. They try to reassure each other to remain positive, but they all feel the disappointment of walking all that way for nothing. JungKook notices YoonGi biting his nails again and tries to stop him, but he is interrupted by a loud drilling noise. JungKook looks past him at the sea and all that remains of the dream-granting rock, the pebbles under their feet. “Is the world tough for you, too?” he asks, but YoonGi can’t hear him. JungKook screams again. “Do you want to give up on this world, too?” HoSeok and TaeHyung laugh at their mimed conversation. They all look out to the sea and shout their dreams. The drilling is so loud that they can’t hear each other. JungKook cannot even hear his own dream. When the noise stops, they cut off abruptly and laugh. SeokJin suggests that they take a photo. He sets the timer and runs to join their row, the sea behind them. They walk back to the train station. JungKook asks if he can keep the photo. SeokJin writes “June 12” on the back and gives it to him, telling him that his dream will come true. JungKook asks if SeokJin knows what he shouted to the sea, and SeokJin merely taps his shoulder and strides ahead.

BTS Universe Story : The Boy on the Threshold, ep.3

JungKook’s memory of the beach trip follows a similar structure to the scene in Notes 1, plus a notable addition. After they fail to find the dream-granting boulder, JungKook climbs up on the pier railing. He thinks: “I’ve always liked walking on the edge of walls or on top of lines. Focusing on centering my gravity means that I don’t really think of anything else, and the boundary—not quite a part of either place—always felt like where I should be.” Someone grabs his arm while he precariously balances. YoonGi tells him not to do that, and JungKook assures him that he won’t fall.

“YoonGi would often grab my arm when I walked on railings. The others would look after me, too, after seeing him do that. I liked their helping hands. It felt like they were telling me that I should go to them. That this wasn’t my place. Maybe their hands were why I walked on the railings.”

25 June Year 19 Notes 1 (SJ)

Alone in the classroom hideout, SeokJin finds a plant by the window. He takes pictures with his phone but doesn’t think they capture what the human eye sees. He notices that “HoSeok’s plant” is scribbled on the floor beneath the pot and then realizes that the window sills, walls, and ceiling are covered with graffiti and drawings, messages left behind by the students who once passed through that room. He wonders if there were past teachers who used violence and endless tests or students like him who ratted out their friends to the principal. Since his father also attended that high school, SeokJin looks for his name on the walls and finds it with a phrase written underneath: “Everything started from here.”

Note: TaeHyung, JiMin, NamJoon, and YoonGi discover several other familiar names near Kim ChangJun (SeokJin’s father) on the classroom wall in TaeHyung’s 23 July Year 22 entry from 7’s album Notes and the extended version in Notes 2.

30 August Year 19 Notes: Her

JiMin plays in HoSeok’s shadow while he is on the phone, reflecting on how HoSeok has accompanied him on the two-hour walk home since the beginning of the school semester. JiMin eventually realized that HoSeok didn’t live in the same direction but never questioned him, simply hoping that their time walking together would stretch the day out a little longer. HoSeok finishes on the phone and chases after him while the cicadas sing and their ice creams melt. Suddenly, JiMin is afraid, wondering how many of these days are left.

20 March Year 20 Notes 1 (TH)

TaeHyung sneaks up on NamJoon in the hallway by their classroom hideout. He stops when he hears SeokJin’s voice inside, apparently informing the principal about how TaeHyung and YoonGi had ditched school and got in a fight over the past few days. SeokJin throws open the door, phone in hand, and looks flustered to see NamJoon standing there. TaeHyung hides in a corner and is shocked to hear NamJoon assure him, “It’s OK. There must’ve been a good reason.” HoSeok and JiMin find TaeHyung in the hallway, and HoSeok pulls him into the classroom. NamJoon beams at TaeHyung as though nothing strange has happened. Believing that NamJoon “must have his reasons” because he is more intelligent and mature, TaeHyung decides not to tell anyone about the conversation he overheard.

15 May Year 20 Notes 1 (NJ)

NamJoon visits the classroom hideout on his last day of school. Two weeks prior, his family decided that they needed to move due to complications with his father’s health and their overdue rent. NamJoon tries to write a message on a piece of paper. He scribbles “I must survive” before the pencil lead snaps. He crumples the paper and writes in the dust on the window instead.

“No farewell message would be enough to let the others know how I felt. At the same time, no farewell message was needed to make myself understood. ‘See you again.’ It was a wish, rather than a promise.”

Note: “I must survive” is a recurring message tied to NamJoon in the BU MVs. See also 17 December Year 21.

7 June Year 20 Notes: Persona

TaeHyung’s two month old puppy Dubu slips out of the leash and disappears while he is distracted on his phone. TaeHyung runs around the neighborhood looking for him, first angry at the puppy and then blaming himself. When Dubu returns on his own, TaeHyung is filled with the unfamiliar feeling that he is someone who can be relied on.

11 June Year 20 BTS Universe Story: The Boy on the Threshold, ep.5 Everyone’s Place

In the classroom hideout, JungKook listens to YoonGi playing the piano. The sound of the music makes him feel as if YoonGi understands how he feels and is trying to console him. The Dean of Students forces the door open, demanding why they are there. He berates and slaps JungKook, knocking him to the floor. YoonGi steps between them and shoves the teacher’s shoulder. The dean warns him that he had better be prepared for the consequences of putting his hands on a teacher and then leaves. Despite his throbbing cheek, JungKook smiles because it is the first time someone has protected him, and the feeling of getting closer to YoonGi makes him giddy. For the next two weeks, YoonGi does not come to school.

25 June Year 20 Notes 1

JungKook’s entry:

JungKook tries to play the piano in the classroom hideout, unable to make it sound like YoonGi did. He reflects on the rumor that YoonGi was expelled after the events of 11 June and wonders if YoonGi would still be here playing the piano if JungKook had not been there that day when the teacher appeared.

YoonGi’s entry:

Breathing hard, YoonGi arrives at his bedroom, removes a half-burned piano key from an envelope in his desk drawer, and throws it into the trash can. He remembers a day four years ago when he returned to their burned down home and found a skeleton of the piano where his mother’s room used to stand. He noticed several piano keys on the ground and took one of them, wondering what note it was and how many times her fingers touched it. In the present, YoonGi thinks how unbearable living under his father’s rule is and recalls what happened that day: he is officially expelled from school. He picks up the piano key again and hurls it out the window.

“I couldn’t hear the piano key hit the ground. Now I’d never know what note it made. It’d never make a sound again. I’d never play the piano again.”

17 July Year 20 Notes 1 (SJ)

At the end of the last school day before summer vacation, SeokJin tries to leave quickly but is hailed by HoSeok and JiMin. No one knows that he was pressured by the principal and revealed their hideout, which led to JungKook and YoonGi being discovered (11 June) and the latter’s expulsion (25 June). HoSeok wishes SeokJin a good vacation and to keep in touch, but he can’t reply.

“My first day at this school crossed my mind as I passed through the school gate. We were all late and got punished. But we were together, so we could laugh together. I had ruined all those memories we shared.”

Note: Variations of the sentiment “we can laugh when we’re together” recur throughout BU.

15 September Year 20 Notes 1 (HS)

In the hospital emergency room, HoSeok wants to explain how JiMin had a seizure at the bus stop to his mother, Sim SeonMi. When the doctors wheel JiMin’s bed out, HoSeok begins to follow until SeonMi thanks him and touches his shoulder. He feels like she has drawn a line between them that he cannot cross. He falls to the floor, and when he looks up, JiMin’s bed is gone.

Note: The name of JiMin’s mother is specified in his BTS Universe Story arc, Stopped Time. JiMin’s 11 May Year 22 entry in Notes 1 reflects that he blacked out at the bus stop after seeing the window of the Grass Flower Arboretum shuttle bus open. His 12 August Year 22 entry in Notes 2 reveals the real cause of JiMin’s seizure at the bus stop: he sees the boy that he left behind at the arboretum warehouse on 6 April Year 11. Though the boy’s empty eyes no longer speak to JiMin, this chance encounter awakens his memories of that day.

28 September Year 20 Notes: Her and Smeraldo Books Twitter

JiMin, heavily medicated, has lost track of how long he has been back in the hospital. But he considers this a special day because he lies to the doctor for the first time about not remembering anything.

Note: He is lying about not remembering what triggered his seizure at the bus stop on 15 September and/or what happened at the Grass Flower Arboretum when he was a kid (see Notes 2 comments above). This lie is also referenced in his 11 May Year 22 entry in Notes 1.

30 September Year 20 Notes 1 (JK)

A teacher hits JungKook with an attendance book when he refuses to admit that he still visits the classroom hideout, reminding him of when YoonGi was beaten. Later, JungKook stands outside the room and imagines that the others are waiting for him on the other side. He opens the door to only find HoSeok, clearing out what remains of their belongings. HoSeok walks him out, and JungKook realizes that those days are gone and will never come again.

25 February Year 21 Notes: Her (HS)

HoSeok watches himself dance in the mirror. He has danced since he was around twelve and discovered an ecstasy that came from inside himself. Outside of the mirror, HoSeok is a person who collapses everywhere and takes medicine he doesn’t need, who smiles even when he hates it and isn’t happy. But when he dances, he truly becomes himself, casting away all that weighs him down and feeling that he can become happy.

2 May Year 21 Notes: Persona (JK)

Biking along the Yangjicheon riverbank, JungKook thinks about how his friends left him one by one and that no one at home or in the world smiles at him anymore. He stops in the shadows under a bridge. Nobody comes to this kind of ruined place, and maybe that is the reason no one comes to him either. He feels most comfortable alone in the complete darkness where no one will look for him and wants the moment to never end.

9 August Year 21 Notes: Persona (SJ)

SeokJin walks along a Los Angeles beach and photographs the ocean. It has been a year since he fled Songju and moved to his mother’s family’s home, where he grew up as a child. He doesn’t photograph people anymore and didn’t bring any photos from high school with him, afraid to remember who he was at that time or to wonder about how his friends are doing and whether they still think of him.

17 December Year 21 Notes 1 (NJ)

This lengthy entry details events that transpired since the autumn of Year 20 when NamJoon’s family moved to the village, framed by moments on 17 December itself as NamJoon leaves on his own. His family chooses this village because it has a nearby hospital for his ailing father and employers who will hire someone without a high school diploma. NamJoon serves as a delivery boy for an eatery, competing for work with the other local boys. They grow a strange sense of solidarity, and he privately dubs one of them “TaeHyung,” even though the boy’s discontent, outward behavior is more akin to YoonGi’s. (Quotation marks added to the name here for clarity.) Competition slackens when snow falls in winter. NamJoon and “TaeHyung” are the only ones poor enough to risk the road up to the mountain town’s rest area when orders are phoned to the village below. On an afternoon forecast to have heavy snowfall, the restaurant owner dismisses “TaeHyung” due to his bruised face and gives the deliveries to NamJoon. The old delivery scooter fishtails on NamJoon’s third trip down the mountain, throwing him off. More anxious about the scratched scooter than his cut ankle and aching body, NamJoon finally gets it to restart and returns to the eatery. “TaeHyung,” who has been hanging around this whole time, approaches and asks for a favor. Before he can answer, NamJoon receives a call from his mother relaying that his father went outside alone and fell, requiring a trip to the hospital. NamJoon understands that his father was only trying to keep his dignity but is still frustrated because he can’t earn any more much-needed money this day. He hands “TaeHyung” the keys and leaves to take his father to the hospital.

The next day, NamJoon learns that “TaeHyung” was in a fatal accident during one of the deliveries up the mountain. The police officer blames him for being a poor driver and not wearing a helmet. NamJoon does not speak up that he has never seen the helmet the owner now has placed out on the counter. He visits the scene of the accident, thinking that the white outline on the road could be his if he was the one to make the next delivery—just as it could be his family mourning in the village instead of “TaeHyung’s” mother. On a later trip carrying his father home from the bus stop, NamJoon pretends not to hear his father’s frail voice over the noise of barking dogs. A week after that, NamJoon is making steady deliveries up the mountain. During what is ultimately his last delivery, he speaks with a stranger at the rest area, who cautions him to take care. “Do you know what’s really dangerous? Calcium chloride and wet leaves, not the snow itself,” the stranger blurts as NamJoon departs. NamJoon drives carefully back, not looking at the scene of the accident. This is not out of safety, as he tries to convince himself, but guilt: guilt for surviving, for his relief of being the one alive, for not defending “TaeHyung’s” driving skills. He also wonders if he is “a hypocrite pretending to have a guilty conscience.” Because he scattered wet leaves and sprinkled calcium chloride to prevent the road from icing over where he fell that afternoon, believing that he would be making the next delivery. If he did not do both those things, would “TaeHyung” be alive?

Mind and body numb, NamJoon makes it home from the delivery detached from the world around him. The barking dogs snap him out of the daze, and he remembers his father’s words that he pretended not to hear and dwelled on daily despite trying not to think about them: “Go, NamJoon. You must survive.” The next morning (17 December), NamJoon sneaks away to the bus stop. He is running away from his family’s misfortunes, from his own resignation to his fate, from poverty. The bus is scheduled to arrive in Songju in a few hours—the city he left with no notice and is returning to once more with the same. NamJoon wonders if his old friends still live there and how they are doing. On the frosted window, he writes with his finger: “I must survive.”

Note: The village boy’s real name is JongHun according to NamJoon’s 12 June Year 22 entry in Notes 2, which also reveals that he visited JongHun’s home to give his condolences before he left town.

1 February Year 22 Notes: 7 (SJ)

Summoned by his father without explanation, SeokJin flies back to Korea from Los Angeles. Although he has addresses in both LA and Songju, neither place feels like his home.

———————————————————

Update Log

Posted May 5, 2021

Do not repost.

[jj-babebank]

Camp Willowdale / JJ Maybank AU / PART 3

Synopsis: Camp Willowdale is buzzing with new campers. It’s Caroline Windsor’s first year as a camp counsellor after attending the camp as a camper for ten years. Little does she know that this year Willowdale Lake is going to be a little different from what she is used to it being…

Warnings: future chapters may include curse words, mentions of drugs, mentions of alcohol, mentions of sexual activities, mentions of death.

Pairings: JJ Maybank x fem OC

Part 1 ; Part 2

Part 3 -

Music was blasting in the boys’ cabin and John B made sure to keep the lights dimmed to a maximum, adding to what he referred to as ‘the groovy ambiance’. Caroline and Sarah entered the cabin, leading the way for all of their fellow girl counselors. Word spread faster than a wildfire around the Wildcat Lodge and now everyone was attending what was meant to be a welcoming party for just the boys. Caroline leaned against the ladder of one of the bunk beds and crossed her arms as her and Sarah waited in anticipation for their grand scheme to play out.

“Caroline, Sarah!” John B’s voice alerted them as he snuck up between them, hooking an arm around both their shoulders, “Right on time for the big surprise!” he said, walking dramatically towards what the girls already knew to be his luggage. He turned the music down on his way there, “Alright everybody, listen up!” he said, stopping by his bed, gathering everyone’s attention, “I’m sure to most of us, if not all of us – camp Willowdale is a token of light, a beacon of faith, an ode to nostalgia, if you will,” he spoke dramatically, waving his hands around, making Caroline and Sarah chuckle, “Which is why we have all gathered here tonight, and for that reason, I have done my due diligence and prepared a special surprise for all of us. Girls and boys, allow me to introduce to you,” his hands went to unzip the bag, “Ton-” his eyes widened in horror as he unzipped the bag, revealing it to be totally empty, except for his scarce clothes and the limp body of what appeared to be a dead owl at the bottom.

Everyone around him seemed either disappointed or confused as he frantically ran around the room, looking for his alcohol stash. Caroline and Sarah, however, gasped at the sight before them.

“Shit,” muttered Sarah, “What the hell is that? When I said I was hoping there wouldn’t be animals in there I didn’t think there’d actually be animals in there…”

Caroline shook her head, “Screw what it is! The real question is – who put it there?”

The girls were so focused on their conversation they barely noticed JJ showing up, “You girls know anything about this?” he said, making both of them jump.

“JJ!” Caroline said, trying to mask all sense of worry in her voice, “How could we possibly know anything about this?”

“We did it,” said Sarah quickly, “We stole the alcohol, but we swear to God we have no idea who put that pigeon in there!”

“Sarah!” hissed Caroline, only making Sarah shrug.

“What?” the girl said, “If there’s some psycho playing tricks on us, we might as well have a guy on our side!”

JJ raised an eyebrow, a small smile spreading on his face, “You’re telling me you two are behind this?”, he said, looking at Caroline impressed, “Gee, Carrie, didn’t picture you to be the bad type,”

Caroline’s cheeks heated up immediately as Sarah rolled her eyes and turned to look at JJ, “Earth to Maybank, are you listening to me? We only stole the booze, we didn’t put that in there!”

“Relax, girls,” said JJ, “Knowing John B, that little fucker probably sat dead at the bottom of his bag for a while before you even got to the alcohol,”

Caroline and Sarah both scrunched their noses in disgust, however what JJ was saying did make sense.

“You’re probably right,” sighed Caroline, “Booze is in our storage room, me and Sarah will go fetch it now,” she said, pulling Sarah out of the cabin.

“Are you crazy?” Sarah hissed at her, “Do you really want to give them all that alcohol back? Jesus, Carrie, how the hell do you expect me to last all summer sober? It’s bad enough I have to bunk with Madison Hague…”

“Relax, Sarah, I’m sure there’s gonna be a handful of teenagers with secret stashes of alcohol just waiting to be confiscated,”

Sarah sighed in relief, “You’re totally right, C,” she said, shaking her head as they walked the few steps up to their cabin’s door, “We’re just gonna rob our teens! What could possibly go wrong?”

As she said that and pressed onto the door handle, an ear-piercing scream echoed through the forest, making the hairs on the back of her arm stand.

“What was that?!” she quickly turned to Caroline, who was just as frozen as she was. Counselors started coming out of the boys’ cabin, the music dying down again suddenly. JJ and John B quickly made their way towards the girls, both visibly concerned.

“Are you alright?” said JJ.

Caroline nodded, crossing her arms, “I am, but whoever’s in there doesn’t sound like they are,” she said, tilting her head in the direction of the thick forest from where the scream came.

By this point, Pricilla and the rest of the head staff appeared from the staff lodge, all looking slightly tipsy as they paced through the path to the counselors’ cabins.

“What in the world is going on here?” Pricilla said, trying not to slur her words.

“Sounds like we should be asking you the same thing,” John B muttered under his breath, earning a chuckle from JJ.

“Our guess is as good as yours, Miss P,” explained Topper, shrugging, “We were all hanging out in there when we heard the scream and came out,”

“Well whose was it?” enquired Pricilla, looking slightly annoyed that her night had to be cut short for these teenagers’ shenanigans. When no one could give her an answer, she rolled her eyes and waved them over, “Come on then, off to Wildcat Lodge. We’re gonna have to do a count,”

Once everyone was gathered in the lodge, Pricilla waited for Mrs. Darbyshire, who also seemed a bit too drunk to be taking any of this seriously, to bring her a list of all the counselors’ names.

“Alright,” she said once the list was in her hands, “I’m gonna do a name call. Once we figure out who’s missing, you’re gonna go into that forest and look for them.” This earned her a bunch of annoyed comments and groans, making Pricilla snap back, “Don’t give me that shit, you lost ‘em, now you gotta find ‘em.”

“This is bullshit,” Caroline crossed her arms, “We’re literally minors, what are they gonna do?”

“They’re gonna finish their party,” interjected JJ.

Caroline shook her head in annoyance as Pricilla started reading out everyone’s names one by one.

“Jenna Kinley?”

“Here!”

“Kelce Johnson?”

“Here.”

“Barry Smith?”

“S’up.”

“Madison Hague?”

No answer.

This made Pricilla stand up straighter, looking around the pool of counselors in front of her, “Madison are you here?” when there was no reply yet again, she sighed loudly, “Has anyone seen Madison?”

“Last time I saw her, she said she was going to the girls’ cabin to pick up a jacket,” chimed in Topper.

“Oh, for the love of-” Pricilla groaned loudly, “This better not be a stupid prank, or I swear!”

“I should’ve just given her one of my jackets…” muttered Topper, “Now I feel kinda guilty,”

“Hey, it’s alright,” said Caroline, tapping him on the shoulder, “I’m sure she only saw a bug or something,”

“I trust you’ll all disperse and look for your friend now,” said Pricilla, “In the meantime, us adults will be supervising the Wildcat Lodge,”

“Supervising from what?” asked JJ confused.

“In case… Madison comes back here, of course!” Pricilla quickly lied, “Now off you go, Maybank, you ask way too many questions!”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“This is ridiculous,” moaned Sarah after bouncing down the stairs of the girls’ cabin with a bag on her arm, “As if this summer couldn’t get any worse,”

“Pipe it, princess,” bit back JJ, “If you didn’t insist on stopping by the cabin before we went into the woods, maybe we’d have called it a night by now.”

“Don’t big yourself too much, Maybank,” she said, leading their pack into the trees and looking around to see whether the coast was clear, “You see, while you were moping around outside, I picked up some provisions,” she said, a devilish smirk spreading on her face as she pulled out a bottle of whiskey from her bag.

Caroline’s jaw nearly broke off, “Sarah, are you serious?”

Sarah only shrugged, “What? I told you I’m not gonna make it through tonight sober, besides, if I’m gonna be looking for the bitch I was hoping wouldn’t be here in the first place, I’d rather be shit-faced when I find her,”

Caroline rolled her eyes, snatching the bottle from Sarah’s hands, “Yeah, well, if I’m going to be looking for the bitch with you, I’d rather be shit-faced too,” she said, taking a rather large swig of the alcohol and hissing at the taste.

“Sweet,” said JJ, picking the bottle up from Caroline, “This is better than the party,”

John B agreed as he got hold of the bottle last.

The group walked through the forest, flashlights in hand, taking the whiskey bottle in turns and laughing as they went. John B had argued that if Sarah could pick something from her cabin, then he could pick his speaker from his, and so the four of them found themselves nearing the clearance by the lake, drunk and singing along to some cheesy song that was currently playing loud enough for only them to hear.

“It’s a good thing Pricilla wanted us here a day early,” slurred John B slightly, “Now you girls have set up the bonfire area and we can chill there,”

Sarah rolled her eyes, “Yeah, you’d know all about that, wouldn’t you?”

John B raised an eyebrow and turned to Caroline, “What’s she talking about?”

Just as Caroline was about to answer, they reached the bonfire area, which much to her dismay – had been totally wrecked, once again.

“This,” she said, anger quickly replacing the previous buzz she was feeling from the alcohol.

“Whoa, who did this?” said JJ, flashing his flashlight in the direction of the discarded logs and pillows.

“What do you mean who did this?” snapped Sarah, “Why’d you think we stole your alcohol?”

“Sarah, we didn’t do this,” John B shook his head.

Sarah stopped dead in her tracks, her face becoming slightly worried “What do you mean you didn’t do this? Then who did?”

“Guys,” Caroline chimed in from across the bonfire area, where the fire was supposed to be lit the following night, “Come check this out,”

The three teens made their way towards Caroline who was flashing her light at one of the rocks at the base of the fire pit. There was something written on it with a gooey substance the origin of which none of them wanted to question.

“I don’t know who did it, but whoever it was,” said Caroline, stepping back from the rock so that her friends could see what was written more clearly on it, “Probably did this, too.”

And there on the rock, written with what looked an awfully lot like blood, were plastered four words:

Come and find me

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Part 4 here x

A/N: Finally something is happening haha I hope you're enjoying so far, let me know what you think and if you want to be added to the taglist, please notify me! Story is about to get juicy from now on hehehe

Link to masterlist here. xxxx

taglist: @k-k0129

[funkwhistle]

Come sit

Pairing: Micah Bell x GN!Reader

Warnings: None

Summary: You’re cold at night and someone can help you warm up 

(phot is mine - don’t reupload without credit)

It was getting cold at camp this evening, you'd settled at your new location - while it was further south than Colter, the evening still brought temperatures you'd never seen in Blackwater. You pulled your coat further around you, debating whether or not to go over to the fire; everyone else was asleep now, and the fire was so warm, it wouldn't matter you weren't fully dressed.

Carefully, you pushed yourself off your roll mat, tiptoeing across camp to find the fire, guided by the light beaming through tents as you went. In the air, the faint smell of the evening's dinner made you hungry again, but you ignored this, praying not to step on a stick and alert anyone of what you were doing. It was strange, being the only one awake at camp, usually, it would be buzzing with life, and yet now all you could hear were the peaceful snores and movements of them in their sleep.

Just as you were about to walk around the Dutch's tent to the fire, you heard someone move - not in their sleep, but a distinctive sound of someone tapping their boot on the ground. Peering around the corner, you caught a glimpse of someone sat by the fire, back turned to you, polishing an incredibly shiny revolver. you couldn't make out who it was - either Arthur, Micah or possibly Hosea in a large coat. This last thought made you smile a little as you scanned around camp, finding Hosea to be asleep.

Praying that the figure by the fire was Arthur, you turned back around, pulling your coat around yourself to maintain a scrap of dignity, about to walk to the warmth of the fire when you heard them speak.

“Well, come on then darlin, come sit,”

The gruff voice that spoke was not one of the gentle giant you loved, rather of his more ratty opposite - Micah Bell. He was sat, straddling one of the logs in order to look at you, the gun he'd been cleaning neatly back in its holster. The fire threw shadows across his face, but you could tell he was smirking again, enjoying the fact you'd neglected to dress in anything other than your undergarments and a coat.

“You just gonna stand there?” Micah was still looking at you expectantly, jerking his head to indicate one of the other logs. There was no excuse which would justify you leaving, and it was cold, so you walked over slowly, sitting on the far side of the fire, away from him. As soon as you sat by the fire, you felt its warmth on your lower legs, helping with the uncontrollable shivering you'd been doing for the past hour.

You both sat there quietly for a while, Micah brought out his knife and began to polish it, scraping shapes into the log now and again to test its sharpness. The flames from the fire were dwindling, the flames which once leapt nearly to the height of your knee now barely could climb the log it was burning. It was colder now, but you tried your best not to shiver, poking the flames with a stick in a vain attempt to tend to the fire. Your efforts were worthless, as, due to your stoking, the fire gave up entirely, reducing itself to a pile of glowing embers.

Sighing exasperatedly, you curled up on your log, clutching your legs to your chest, your dignity forgotten in favour of keeping yourself warm, although you did try and cover yourself a little. Micah did so much as lookup, however, the knife had more of his attention; he seemed fixated with getting a little bit of mud off the handle.

“Are you cold again?” he asked, and you nodded a little, your teeth threatening to chatter if you spoke. Micah was looking at you now, his steely eyes focussed on yours, taking in your shivering position and chattering teeth. Shoving his knife into his belt, he stood up, kicking the fire as he passed it on his way over to you. Instinctively, you moved away, giving him space to sit on the log beside you without touching you at all. At your actions, he laughed a little, brushing the mud from your boots off the seat before sitting down beside you.

“Come here,” Micah asked, opening his arms a little to encourage you to move closer to him. Even from where you were sitting, you could feel his warmth, even through all layers of jackets he was wearing. You regarded him briefly, not knowing if he was kidding or not, and not wanting to risk being teased by the rest of camp; usually, you'd keep your distance from him, intimidated by his quick wit and harsh comments, and yet this man was offering to warm you up. Ignoring the alarm bells in your mind which told you this was a big joke, you shuffled closer to him, until you were beside him, your leg pressing against his.

“See? I don't bite darlin,” he joked, pulling you so you were sat on his lap, his arms wrapped around your middle, holding you close to him. Slowly, once you were settled, he moved so his breath was ghosting over your ear, then whispered “Unless you want me to?” To this, you hit him gently on the chest, slightly disgusted by his remark, but your heart had caught an interest in his phrase, and you found yourself blushing at the images that had appeared in your mind.

Micah pretended not to notice this, but upon seeing your flushed face, he couldn't help but smile a little, shifting slightly so he could rest his head on yours. You moved so you could put your head onto his chest, hearing the pounding of his heart and the softness of his grip as he held you. The warmth he provided was much warmer than the fire had given you, but he also provided a sense of comfort you didn't know you were missing.

you didn't know how long the pair of you sat there, your eyes kept drifting shut, and you were convinced Micah was asleep, his breathing heaving and occasionally he'd let out what sounded like a snore. but you didn't mind, it was warm here, and you wanted to treasure this moment, as soon enough the sun would be up and you have to move.

Carefully you moved so you could sit more comfortably, making Micah groan a little as he woke up.

“Sorry, I didn't mean to wake you,” you apologized, looking up at him and stopping your movements.

“It's fine darlin, just watch out,” his voice was deeper than usual, and his eyes were tinted with the remains of sleep as you realised what he was speaking about. You cocked an eyebrow at him, trying to refrain from letting out a giggle at his predicament, watching as the corners of his lips turned into a smile at your expression - you were still only wearing your thin undergarments. With a little more caution, you continued to move so you were sat more upright, glancing up at him when you were comfortable.

“Happy now?” he asked quietly, grinning a little at you. You nodded happily, resting your chin on his shoulder to look at the first hints of sunrise on the horizon, wrapping your arms around his neck to secure yourself a little better on his lap. He grunted at little at your movements, twisting his head and moving his hands around your waist.

“Alright there?” you said, knowing full well he wasn't - you could feel him against your thigh. It was his turn to be speechless, as he just nodded, gritting his teeth and turning his head away from yours in order not to show you what he was thinking.

“Micah-” you started, concerned you'd offended him in some way. Before you could ask anything, he had turned around to face you again, moving his hand so it was cupping your face, tilting your chin so that you were closer to his face.

“Tell me now-” you cut him off, placing a light kiss on his lips before pulling away from him. Both of you looked at each other with a little surprise, shocked you'd done that, before he pulled your face closer to him again, connecting your lips with his, making your confused heart leap out of your chest in happiness.

A/N: This is my first time writing Micah (some of you have turned me into a bit of a Micah simp lately), and this was written & edited in a rush when I had the idea, so it might contain some dodgy spelling etc - anyway hope you liked it :)

[shes-ghostface]

Hello again, some time ago I asked what it would be like if Brahms, Jason and Harry Wander were in Dead by Daylight with their beloved s/o... And I would like to ask for a continuation if it is not too complicated for you to do of course!

Like, what would be the reaction of the killers and survivors of your choice when discovering the "secret" relationship between the boys and their s/o? Will anyone want to interfere in the relationship?

{ For example: flirting with s/o to provoke the boys, or trying to save her from this relationship thinking that they are being forced to stay with them... }

Brahms Heelshire

A lot of the survivors weren’t particularly bothered by discovering your relationship with Brahms, but Élodie was concerned for your welfare. She always checked you over when you came back to the survivors campfire after spending time with him, she would constantly ask if he had hurt you or made you do things you didn’t want to. To which you always told her the relationship between you and Brahms was dual sided, you both wanted it as much as the other and he never forced you to do anything, other than when he got bratty and held you tightly against him if you tried to move when he wasn’t done snuggling with you. But no matter how many times you tried to reassure Elodie, she just wouldn’t let it go. All of her prying and concerns came to a stop once you were in a trial with her and Brahms though.

You were working on the generator inside the killer shack, unaware Brahms was hastily approaching. “Come here.” Was all you heard, his voice vibrating through your whole body, causing you to shudder. You looked over your shoulder to see Brahms standing in the doorway, he stepped closer to you as you got up from the generator, taking your hands in his. You were too engrossed in Brahms sweet talking about your outfit to notice Elodie watching through the shack window, “Oh, seems we have company.” Brahms stated with a tone of annoyance. You turned to see Elodie, she seemed nervous. She had her hands in front of her, clasped together, slightly shaking. “She’s okay, she just likes to check up on me is all. She’s a good friend.” You told Brahms, hoping to sway his attention from Elodie. His gaze didn’t move off of her, “So she’s the one who has been asking all the questions?” He seethed. You knew this tone and you knew it wasn’t good. All Brahms could think about was how much time you spent with Elodie when you weren’t with him, and Brahms didn’t like that. He wants you all to himself, you’re his and she needs to realise he’s not going anywhere and she will NOT take you from him. His breathing became heavy and his shoulders tensed up, you went to put your hand to his chest but before you could calm him down he lunged towards Elodie, charging around the corner of the shack, you attempted to follow closely but he was too fast. She didn’t have a chance to get away, he lunged his right arm towards her, grabbing her by the throat, lifting her up with ease. “She’s mine. You and no one or nothing else is going to change that.” He bellowed, causing you to stop in your tracks, it was the loudest you had ever heard Brahms speak. Elodie tried to respond, but Brahms had his grip so tightly around her throat all you could hear was her voice fading with each attempt at a word. “Brahms she’s got the message! Put her down, please!” You begged him, he looked at you, still holding Elodie up by her throat. He didn’t like to see you upset, but when Brahms wants something he gets it, and he wanted her to understand you are his. All you heard was a loud snap, Elodie’s life faded from her eyes as her head slumped to the side. He had broken her neck, he stared for a moment and let out a light chuckle, throwing her body to the ground. He turned towards you, “She had to learn to mind her business.” He stated as he neared you. You knew what Brahms was like but that didn’t mean every time you seen him kill someone it didn’t shock you. All you could do was look up at him, you were speechless. He wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you into him, “Mine.” He whispered into your ear, you couldn’t help but melt into him. Every time he does this you lose yourself in him, his scent, his touch, everything about him overtakes your mind.

The exit gates powered up, bringing you back to reality. You sighed, slowly leaving his arms. “Time to go, I’ll come see you once I’m done at the survivor campfire okay?” You told him, to which he nodded and walked away. As you made your way out, Brahms was getting himself irritated again. He knew you would be speaking to Elodie and he hated knowing your attention was on someone else aside from him.

Back at the campfire you seen Elodie already sat down on one of the wooden logs, she had her back to you and was talking to Zarina. As you neared the two, Zarina looked over Elodie’s shoulder and gave you a concerned look. She patted Elodie on the shoulder and left, causing Elodie to turn and see you approaching. “Elodie, I’m so sorry. I didn’t know he would get as angry as he did, I know you’re only trying to take care of me and make sure I’m okay. Brahms doesn’t understand that, he gets jealous easy. You’re such a good friend and I don’t want to lose you.” You said as you lowered yourself onto the log to sit with her. She just looked at you and did a small laugh, “Don’t be silly, I don’t blame you. I know what the killers are like here, we need to stick together. If we don’t have each other in here we have nothing.” She said with a smile. You couldn’t contain your grin, you were relieved your friendship with her wasn’t damaged. You both gave each other a tight hug, but behind one of the trees in the shadows, Brahms was watching. His fists clenched, he got the message. She hadn’t learned her lesson.

Jason Voorhees

You and Jason had been dating for a while now, a lot of the other survivors respected it and didn’t bother you too much about it. They just asked how you both were doing now and again to make sure you were okay. The only two that didn’t respect it though, were David and Nea. They both had a crush on you for a while, even before you started dating Jason they would both flirt with you and you would do harmless flirting back. You stopped once you and Jason were a thing though, out of respect for Jason and of course for David and Nea’s safety. That didn’t stop them from flirting with you, though. They would often compete against each other on who got your attention the most and who helped you more in trials, it was harmless really, but once they found out about you and Jason, both of their jealousy set in. Nea kept trying to persuade you to leave him and tell you he wasn’t safe to be around, and David would always brag about how much better he could treat you and how he would take care of you. You paid no mind to it because you were smitten with Jason, he was the sweetest guy. So big and strong, but so gentle and delicate with you.

It didn’t take long for Jason to notice the two of them trying to get close to you and get your attention in trials. It bothered him a lot, he could feel the anger bubbling inside him every time he seen one of their hands touch you or hear one of their flirty remarks. You always reassured him that they’re just friends and nothing more, he is really insecure after all. He hasn’t had many positive relationships in his life, just you and his mother. So he worries you will leave him for one of the two, the reassuring worked for a while, but one trial was the last straw for Jason. He couldn’t hold the anger any longer.

The trial was on Macmillan Estate, you were teamed with Nea, Meg and David. You were on top of one of the muddy, stone mounds trying to scope out anyone nearby. You only seen Nea in the distance, urban evading. The killer must be near her, you weren’t aware of who it was yet. You hoped it was Jason of course, he always let’s you live. A large, rough hand placed itself on your shoulder, causing you to turn abruptly. It was David, “Alright love? Gave you a bit of a startle did I?” He jested, smirking down at you. “Yeah, you got me.” You replied with a smile, you both headed through the dense fog towards the generator outside of the mine. You hadn’t seen the killer yet but Meg had just been hooked on the opposite end of the estate you and David were. As you both knelt down to start on the generator, you turned to David and asked “Have you seen who the killer is yet?” To which he shook his head, “No, and hopefully I don’t see them anytime soon.” He replied. You let out a slight chuckle, watching the sparks illuminate David’s face. He was attractive of course, big and strong. Very masculine features, if you hadn’t met Jason then maybe you would have ended up with David. But to you, no one and nothing compared to Jason.

The generator was 75% completed, you didn’t even hear Nea approach due to the ear rattling pistons rapidly moving up and down. “Hey doll face.” Nea said as she got on the leftover space of the generator. You looked at her, “Hey Nea, who is th-“ David interrupted abruptly, “Think you’ll find she’s my doll mate. Not yours, so sod off yeah?” He teased. “I think you should ask her that, because I don’t see no evidence of her being yours at all.” Nea snarled back at him. They both looked at you, awaiting a response. To which you shook your head and laughed, “Let’s just get the generator done, we can have petty arguments later.” They stared at you for a moment, then back at each other with a glare that could kill. The whole time the two were arguing over you, Jason was watching through one of the mines windows. He heard everything and he felt his anger boiling over with each word they spoke. How dare either of them attempt to claim you as theirs, you are his. No one else’s.

The generator soon roared to life, you were all still unaware Jason was watching, so you headed towards the next generator. Nea and David managed to walk either side of you, sandwiching you between them. David put his arm around your shoulders, pulling you closer into him. “We make an alright team me and you, don’t need the rest of these muppets.” He said with a smirk, looking down at you eagerly awaiting your response. Nea butted in before you could respond, grabbing your wrist, lightly tugging you towards her. “David, you wouldn’t even survive half the trials if it wasn’t for the rest of us you idiot, and she knows this. Don’t you doll?” You were so tired of them having petty arguments over nothing, you let out a sigh. “You know, you two are such idio-��� before you could finish your sentence, you felt Nea’s hand leave your wrist and David’s arm leave your shoulders. They were dragged back, you span around to find out what the hell was going on. You couldn’t believe what you saw, it was Jason. He had them both held up, one in each hand. He threw Nea to the floor, you heard a crack, followed by Nea’s scream. She grabbed her leg frantically, you could see her shin bone trying to rip through the flesh as it broke in two. You ran to her side to try calm her down but David’s aggressive words got your attention instead, “PUT ME DOWN YOU FUCKIN ARSEHOLE!” Jason wasn’t phased by his words, his grip only got stronger. It was crazy to see how Jason could keep a hold of possibly the strongest survivor in the realm with such ease with just one hand, all whilst he was struggling to get out of his grasp. David was a big guy but compared to Jason he looked just like the average person. It put into perspective just how big Jason was.

David’s insults soon came to an end, Jason had threw him to the ground, the sound of his boot colliding with David’s skull was stomach churning. You couldn’t help but watch in horror, David’s head disappeared into the soil due to Jason’s brute force. Nea was still on the ground riving around in agony, trying to ease the pain of her broken leg. You turned to face her, as did Jason. You went to run to her side but Jason got to her first, he towered over her broken form, breathing heavily due to using such force on David’s skull. His arm swung, impaling her chest with his machete. The life drained from her eyes as Jason pulled his weapon from her flesh, he turned to you. You didn’t even have the words, you knew Jason didn’t like the two of them due to their flirting, but this? You never thought he would go this far. You sometimes forgot he was a ruthless killer because of how gentle he is with you. He made his way over to you, stopping inches in front of your form. He was looking down at you, eager for your eyes to meet his. He wanted to know you were okay, he hated you seeing anything like that. It was bad enough thinking about you in trials with the other killers having to experience such horror. It was worse that he himself had done it all in front of you, he wanted to savour your innocence as much as he could in this realm. He placed his large, cold hand lightly on your shoulder. You looked up at him, he stared for a moment without doing anything, until his hand reached up to tap his mask. You knew he only did that when he wanted kisses, and he knew if you kissed him all was forgiven. You could never resist Jason, he was a sweetheart, so of course you planted kisses all over his mask. He wrapped his arms around your waist and yanked you up into a suffocating hug, Jason never spoke but his actions always told you enough. You soaked in the comfort and joy you received from Jason as much as you could, because you knew going back to the campfire wouldn’t be a joyous occasion. Facing David and Nea after what had happened was going to be quite daunting.

Harry Warden

None of the survivors really got involved with you and Harry, if they even tried they knew Harry would make their lives hell. The only ones in the realm that disagreed with the two of you were Amanda and Evan. Evan only cared because he was best friends with Harry, so you spent some time alongside the two of them. So this made Evan fond of you and he hated not being able to kill you in trials due to being too soft on you, and of course he didn’t want to make Harry mad by sacrificing you. He valued Harry’s friendship and he knew what Harry’s temper was like. He didn’t want to get on the wrong side of him.

Amanda seemed to always have a slight crush on Harry, she never told anyone about it but you could always tell when you seen the way she acted around him at the killers camp. She would always ask how his trials went, compliment his killing skills and would often ask if he wanted to help her build her reverse bear traps. Of course Harry wasn’t a man of many words, he only spoke when he felt he needed to. So a lot of the time she was met with silence, she seen Harry talking to you sometimes which of course made her jealous. You hadn’t told Harry about it yet, but Amanda always tunnelled you and made sure you died first in trials. She had been making your life hell for a few weeks now, it was starting to really affect you mentally and physically, so you decided it was time to tell Harry.

You walked towards Harry’s cabin on the outskirts of the killers camp, thankfully no one was around to take advantage of your already injured self from the last trial. Amanda had mori’d you, so your forearm was still slightly punctured and oozing some blood, making you slightly dizzy. You hadn’t been to see Harry after trials for a long time, especially the ones with Amanda. You knew how angry and upset he would get seeing you this badly hurt. You approached Harry’s door, taking a deep breath. You knew he wouldn’t take this information well, he thought the world of you and if he knew someone was going out of their way to deliberately hurt you and make you suffer, it would tear him apart.

Harry’s door flung open just as you were about to knock, you looked up at him, his shoulders were heaving up and down. He was already mad, did he already know? Had somebody else told him? “Your arm. Who?” Was all you heard, rattling through his gas mask. “Uh, that’s why I came to see you actually.. I haven’t been coming to seen you after certain trials because of how injured I am after them. I know you hate seeing me hurt, so I-“ “I said, who?” He interrupted, causing you to take a step back. You looked up at him, his gaze fixed on you, burning into you, “It’s uh, it’s Amanda... she makes sure I suffer every single trial I have with her just because we are dating. I know she’s jealous, I’ve seen the way she acts around you Harry. It’s been going on for a while now, I just didn’t want to tell y-“ he stepped forward, looming over you. “How long?” His voice was deeper now, almost like a growl. “Around a month. I didn’t want to tell you because I know how mad you get when it comes to me being hurt.” You said nervously, you knew an outburst was coming. He didn’t say anything, you only noticed his breathing getting heavier and his fists starting to clench. “Harry, it’s okay. I just want you to talk to her to try get her to maybe cut me some slack.” He didn’t respond, he went back inside briefly, then barged out with his pickaxe gripped securely in his gloved hand. He lightly pushed you out of the way and stormed towards the rest of the killers cabins. You were jogging behind him just trying to keep up, but Harry was very fast, especially when he was angry. You saw Evan step out of his cabin and watch as Harry charged forward, he then started to walk down the steps of his cabin as you neared. “Not now Evan, I think Harry’s going to start something off.” You said slightly out of breath, Evan grabbed your arm, which caused you to jerk back. “Evan, let GO!” You struggled, but his grip was far too tight. “It isn’t safe, Harry won’t want you getting hurt.” He told you, his tone stern. “I don’t care, I don’t want Harry getting hurt. Let me go.” You said, instantly getting nervous after noticing the attitude you just gave him. He was your friend in a way, but he wasn’t Harry, so you may not get away with speaking to him in such a way. He didn’t say anything, he just started to walk forward, your arm still in his grasp. He was walking you forward, keeping you close to him so you couldn’t go anywhere other than where he wanted you to go.

The air grew colder the deeper you went into the killers camp, the only warmth was from Evan’s hand gripped around the top of your right arm. It began getting even darker, you could see a slight glow in the distance. As you neared the glow, you could hear faint shouting, you looked up at Evan as he picked up his pace. He knew something was going down, “Evan, what’s happening?” You asked, he didn’t say anything. He let out a sigh and broke into a jog, you could barely keep up with him but his grip on you wouldn’t loosen, causing you to trip over your own feet now and again. The shouting was really loud now, you noticed the glow was just the lights coming out of the three cabins that were near one another in this area. You recognised Harry’s voice instantly, “You ever touch her again, I’ll kill you myself.” He sounded furious, the last four words of his sentence sounded more like a promise. You came around the corner and seen Harry and Amanda facing each other, almost like a standoff. “We cannot die in here you fool, if that was the case I’d have killed your precious bitch long ago.” Amanda said with a smirk, she knew what this would cause. You saw Harry’s grip tighten around his pickaxe, his leather gloves slightly squeaking against the wooden handle. Amanda’s knife slithered down from her wrist, this wasn’t going to end well. Amanda swung first, which made you gasp, you couldn’t stand seeing Harry get hurt. You tried to run at her to distract her from Harry, but Evan’s grip wouldn’t allow it. “Evan please, he needs my help!” You pleaded, to which Evan let out a laugh, “Harry never needs help, he can handle himself.” You heard a twig snap right next to you, you turned quickly to see Amanda edging closer to you. “Here she is, the cause of it all. What I would do to end you for good.” She seethed, lifting her arm to swing her knife down at you. You flinched, putting your free arm over your face, preparing for the cold steel slicing through your flesh. Instead you were met with a loud clunk, Amanda’s knife had collided with Harry’s pickaxe, Harry had lunged forward to block her swing. He took advantage of Amanda being stunned by the collision, kicking her stomach, causing her to fall back. She looked up at Harry, “Come on Harry, we’ve been friends before you even met her. You’re going to choose some weak girl over me?” She said, anger and pain behind her words. Harry stood for a moment, looking back at you, you were wide eyed, still struggling against Evan’s grip trying to get to him. He turned back to look down at Amanda, “Yes.” He said, as he lifted his pickaxe and swung down, the point of it piercing Amanda’s skull. He yanked it out, then swung again, and again, until Amanda’s skull and brains were basically pulp. You knew nobody died in the realm, but it still didn’t make you feel any better about seeing someone’s life fade away, even if their death was only for a few minutes.

Harry turned to you, his shoulders and chest heaving. “She shouldn’t bother you now.” He said with a sigh, he dropped his pickaxe, lifting both of his arms and opening them wide motioning you to come to him. Evan’s grip loosened and you ran to Harry, you would expect him to fall over from the force you collided into him with, but it didn’t even budge Harry. You buried your head into his chest and slithered your arms around him, he pulled you into him as tightly as he could, causing you to lose some breath but you didn’t care. The safest you ever feel is in Harry’s arms. You looked up at him, his blacked out glass frames returning your gaze. You leant up and planted a kiss on his gas mask, causing his body to release all the tension he had. He looked at you for a few seconds before unclipping the bottom of his gas mask. His slightly plump lips in a smirk, he leaned down and pressed them against yours. His kisses always made you weak, you felt your body ease up in every sense of the word, causing you to let out a content sigh.

(I’m so sorry it took so long! University has been hectic, but I hope this is what you wanted and you like it!) 🤍

[lebguardians]

Part 3

Warnings: some angst, fluff, cussing

Eskel let out a deep sigh and glanced at y/n across the fire. It was a cool evening and he was grateful for the break from the heat.

Y/n was laying on her bed roll with her back to him. It had been a long couple of months and they would be getting back to Kaer Morhen later than he normally did. But they were at the foot of the blue mountains now and should be arriving at the keep within the week. Eskel wasn’t looking forward to the lecture Vesemir was going to give him, and he new Lambert was going to absolutely loose his shit. Not that he blamed the prickly Witcher seeing that he was also bound by the law of surprise.

They stayed at the inn for a couple weeks to make sure she was healed enough to travel. However, y/n made it extremely clear just how unhappy she was to be bound to him and he couldn’t blame her. He was still beating himself up for his choices 25 years ago. She had barely said two words to him the entire journey and only spoken when she absolutely had to. Even then it was only one worded answers. Eskel knew y/n wasn’t sleeping. Her heart beat quicker than it is when she sleeps.

Y/n was staring off into the forest. The fire warning her back. She ran from her home to finally be free to be whatever she wanted and now she somehow managed to stumble upon the person she was forced to be bound to. To say y/n was pissed was an understatement and some days she wished the kikimora would have finished her off, but mostly she was scared. She heard rumors of Witcher’s of course. Eskel seemed nice enough but she knows there’s no female Witcher’s so why was he taking her to Kaer Morhen? Her thoughts started racing, as did her heart beat and breathing, tears gathering in her eyes. Maybe she shouldn’t have left home. Or stayed in skelliege and tried making a life for herself there instead of coming to the main land.

Eskel was lost in though as he sharpened his blade. His head snapped to young woman when he heard her heart racing. He didn’t know what to do. Comforting wasn’t in his realm of experience. Well really he has no experience with women other than sex. He set his sword down in the grass next to the log he sat on and made it way to the girl, taking off his gambeson and drapped it over her shoulders before taking a seat next to her. Eskel decided not to say anything, hoping she would open up to him. They sat in silence for a few minutes.

Y/n froze when she heard Eskel stand up and walk towards her. *shit* she thought to herself. She was really hoping he thought she would be sleeping. She was surprised, however, when she felt him put his gambeson over her shoulders. She melted into the warmth of the gambeson, and curled herself into it. It smelled like him to, a mix of the woods, grass, and leather with a hint of whatever soap he had used when they freshened up in a stream they had found around noon. Y/n was really surprised by the gesture and rolled to her side to face him. She really appreciated the added warmth since the it was a cooler evening. “I’m scared” y/n whispered very softly, half hoping he wouldn’t hear it. Seeing that Eskel has sensitive hearing due to the Witcher mutations he heard it.

“Of what, y/n”. He replied softly, glancing to the side to her. The camp fire making his amber eyes glow. Eskel knew she had been afraid since woke up after the kikimora attack. She always smelled a bit of fear but her response surprised him.

“What’s going to happen to me at Kaer Morhen? I thought they didn’t make female Witcher’s” she asked, fear lacing her voice.

Eskel froze. He cursed at himself. He should have had this conversation when he decided to bring her to Kaer Morhen. His jaw clinched and he cursed himself. No wonder she hadn’t said shit to him. She was scared of him, of what her future would be. “They don’t. They don’t make Witcher’s anymore period. It’s not possible to create more of us since the sacking of Kaer Morhen.” He let out a deep sigh and ran a hand over his face. “Truthfully I don’t know y/n. But you have nothing to be afraid of. If you want to we could train you to use the sword. Honestly it’s painful to watch you attempt to wield it.” He jested trying to lighten the mood, the corner of his mouth lifting in a smile.

Y/n scoffed and threw an arm out to smack him on the stomach which he expertly dodged and lightly grabbed her wrist. His thumb brushed her wrist in a soothing fashion. “Listen, y/n. I know you don’t trust me. I don’t blame you. I shouldn’t have called for the law of surprise all those years ago. But I did and I can’t change the past. Either way, it’s my job now to keep you safe like it or not. I’m not here to tell you how to live your life or turn you into a Witcher. It’s not an easy life and I don’t wish that on you. However, I’d like to at least be able to train you, give you tools you need to survive in this shit world. Then, if you decide to leave and never talk to me again, that’s fine. It’s your decision.” His baritone voice trailed off, and he turned his gaze back to the forest. “Kaer Morhen is my home. The only one I’ve ever known. The people there are good people. Well except lambert, he’s just a prick. But, you’ll be safe there and I hope one day I can earn your trust.” He turned back to y/n and gave her a soft smile.

Y/n gave his hand a squeeze and gave him a small smile in return.

“Get some sleep, y/n” he whispered before heading back to his bed roll to try to get some sleep.

1 week later

Things had been better between the pair. Slowly but surely they started having small conversations and getting to know each other.

Y/n was starting to like Eskel. He was kind and gentle. Which was surprising to her because his large stature and scars on his face.

She sat behind him on scorpion, holding lightly to his waist. The sun was on her face and the gentle motions of the horse were slowly lulling her to sleep. Eskel smiled when he felt her head hit his back every once in a while. He turned his body sight to look at her “you can go to sleep, y/n I’ll wake you when we get close”

She didn’t say anything but nodded her head and laid against him, falling asleep. Eskel kept a hand on her to make sure she didn’t fall off and slipped into a medatative state knowing his horse remembered the way to the old keep.

Y/n awoke a little while later. Picking her head up and taking in her surroundings. She absolutely loved the views. The valley was gorgeous. As the horse came over the hill she finally saw the massive keep that was tucked into the mountains. “Is that it?” She asked the Witcher.

Eskel came out his meditative state and looked to where she was looking to and gave her a nod “this is it. Welcome to Kaer Morhen.”

[carnegiemuseumnaturalhistory]

What Do Botanists Do On Saturday?

by Sarah C. Williams

Here in the section of Botany we’ve adapted in some strange ways, just like plants do, to the changes of the past year and a half. Let’s learn about the off days of some of our Super Scientists in the Section of Botany!

Mason Heberling, Assistant Curator of Botany

Collecting specimens has become a focus as more time was able to be spent in the field when we weren’t allowed to be at the museum. As our new Botany Hall entrance video shows, Assistant Curator of Botany, Mason Heberling and Collections Manager Bonnie Isaac collect plant specimens on a pretty regular basis. They also snag iNaturalist observations for these plants, taking photos that show what the plant and habitat looked before being picked and pressed.

Mason studies forest understory plants, in particular, introduced species and wildflowers in our changing environment. Mason has a bunch of fun projects going on this summer, ranging from coordinating seed collections of an uncommon native grass to send to Germany for a large greenhouse study to working with a team of students to study the effects of climate change and introduced shrubs on our forest wildflowers.

In addition to work in the field, the herbarium has been a busy place this summer too! Mason has been working with Alyssa McCormick, an undergraduate research intern from Chatham University, to examine stomata (the pores on leaves for air exchange for plants to “breathe”) and leaf nutrients in everyone’s favorite plant – poison ivy!  Poison ivy has been previously shown to grow bigger and cause nastier skin rashes with increasing carbon dioxide in our air due to fossil fuel emissions. Alyssa is using specimens collected as long ago as the 1800s to examine long term changes in poison ivy.

Mason, where can we find you on a Saturday?

“This summer has been a lot of going to various places around western PA like Presque Isle or Idlewild to get out and enjoy the fresh air with my family. I can also be found most Saturdays around the house doing chores!”

Bonnie Isaac, Collection Manager

Bonnie, one of CMNH’s TikTok celebrities, and All-Star in the Mid-Atlantic plant world, has spent a lot of the past year doing fieldwork. Her PA Wild Resource Grant involved looking at most of the populations for 10 Pennsylvania rare species. She and husband Joe Isaac spent many days on the road and a few in the bog! You can see some of her videos about these unique Pennsylvania finds on Carnegie Museum of Natural History’s Tiktok account: @carnegiemnh.

She diligently keeps track of various data points from latitude and longitude and elevation, to flower color, size, and associated species within a habitat. In addition to trying to make sure the plant names in our database are correct, she has also been busy georeferencing some of our specimens so that we can see on a map where each one was collected.

Bonnie, where can we find you on a Saturday?

“On most Saturdays I am either home taking care of my many chickens or getting some exercise in one of my kayaks with my spousal unit, Joe. I sometime even take a fishing pole for a ride or see how many different kinds of plants I can find on a hike. As long as I can get outside with Joe, I’m happy.”

Cynthia Pagesh, Herbarium Assistant

Specimens make their way home to the museum, where we assure they’re bone dry, flat as a pancake, and have been frozen twice to get rid of any pests. They then find their way into the nimble hands of Cynthia Pagesh, our resident plant mounter. Cynthia has luckily been able to do some mounting both onsite and at home over this past year, really honing her craft. She uses Elmer’s glue, dental and sculpture tools, linen tape, and a paintbrush akin to a magic wand: transforming roots, stems, flowers, and fruits into scientific and artistic renderings on an 11.5x16.5” archival herbarium sheet.

Mounting can be very detailed and challenging: wrangling a dry and brittle rare plant you want to salvage every detail from, or an oversized leaf ‘how-will-this-all-fit?’ ordeal, or finessing a delicate petal that glue is especially heavy on. Bulky bits, crumbly bits, spiky no nos: Cyn handles them all. Her work is just as much an art as it is a science. When she’s not making masterpieces, she’s probably doing something with plants.

Cyn, where can we find you on a Saturday?

“You can find me on Saturdays helping prune young trees in my community, collecting wildflower seeds or in my kitchen making preserves or homemade pasta noodles.  I volunteer in vegetable, herb and flower gardens.  I have a pollinator garden at home and raise Monarch caterpillars.  I tag and release them to migrate south.

There are lots of Community Science projects for people of all ages: ask someone to help you find one related to a subject you have an interest in.  I have an interest in pollinators including bees.  I participate in a Community Science Project every Summer that counts types of bees on certain plants when they bloom.”

Iliana DiNicola

After another stint in the freezer for bugs-be-gone, it’s everyone’s favorite day: Picture Day! Each plant: sturdy and mounted, all data logged and super official, makes their way to the imaging station to spend some time under the bright lights. Since 2018, students, interns, and volunteers have lovingly held these plants’ hands as they get their close ups. We take high definition photos using a specially made lightbox and special software.

While this is part of a limited project, called the Mid-Atlantic Megalopolis, we are still hard at work going into our last year of the time we were given. This past schoolyear and summer, former Pitt student, Iliana DiNicola was taking pictures for us on the regular while also interning with the Pittsburgh Parks Conservancy. She just graduated and I’m excited to hear what she does on her Saturdays in the future.

Iliana, where can we find you on a Saturday?

“I just graduated from the University of Pittsburgh with a degree in Environmental Studies, and I am now on the lookout for any jobs related to the environment back in my hometown of Phoenix, Arizona. I am interested in working with anything from sustainability, to policy or political work, or maybe even something more related to ecology and outdoor work.

On a Saturday, I am definitely helping clean my house since I am a semi-clean freak, I love to go hiking if the weather isn't too hot, enjoy drawing and working on any art projects, or work on my future hydroponics garden.

As somebody who interned for Pittsburgh Parks Conservancy, I highly recommend participating in any camps or activities the conservancy has to offer. It was super fun learning more about Pittsburgh's history and ecology and getting to teach kids about these topics, alongside participating in fun outdoor activities.”

Sarah Williams, Curatorial Assistant

Next up, Sarah Williams, the Curatorial Assistant in the Section of Botany, is overseeing the digitization project, morphing the photos from raw camera files into smaller files for sharing and detailed files for archival storing using Adobe Lightroom. She takes the images from the newly photographed specimens and makes sure they get uploaded onto the Mid-Atlantic Herbaria Consortium’s website to be shared far and wide across the world.

There is also a lot she does in sorting, filing, and taking care of the specimens as well. She does a bunch of scheduling, hiring, and training of work study students, interns, and volunteers. We consider her a jack of all trades.

Sarah, where can we find you on a Saturday?

“Most weekends I work with a local catering company called Black Radish Kitchen. I usually end up serving delicious vegetable and farm focused meals at least one day a week, commonly Saturdays because they’re prime for celebrations. The re-start up since the pandemic has been cautious, and I’m excited to be amongst people and help them to make mouthwatering memories again. I’ve worked in the restaurant industry for over a decade and the skills I’ve learned doing it as well as the friends I’ve made are matchless. It has a big piece of my heart.

I also moved into a new house this year about five minutes from my mom, so if I’m not running to say hi to her and ‘borrow’ some groceries, I’m doing laundry, dusting and yardwork… but only after I sleep in, eat some delicious breakfast with my partner, and hang out with our two cats, Santi and Gil.”

We hope you enjoyed getting to know us here in the Section of Botany, look forward to updates and more introductions in the future as we continue to host volunteers, federal work-study students, and interns on their journeys to learn even more about the plant kingdom.

Sarah Williams is Curatorial Assistant in the Section of Botany at Carnegie Museum of Natural History. Museum employees are encouraged to blog about their unique experiences and knowledge gained from working at the museum.