#there's a science to walking through windows ;; spirituality

[flowerbetweenfangs]

Love Bite

6.2k words.

CW: Dead lover (although not seen dead), general zombie/undead activities. While the ghouls are sapient/pass the harkness test, they are made up of an amalgamation of human bodies. If that disturbs you, I would skip this one.

Disclaimer: I haven't seen/played or consumed any Fallout media, these ghouls aren't like those (at least not intentionally). They're more like Frankenstein's monsters,/the ghouls from Tokyo Ghoul with a more spiritual connection.

Summary: A woman goes to the undead base on feeding night to get some answers... And maybe more from their leader.

This was originally written as a script, and I've repurposed it as a short story. I hope the switch works.

The radio had been blaring for hours, warning that it was feeding night. While most of the undead would be confined to hallowed ground, a few stragglers had been spotted roaming the streets. It wasn’t unheard of for a living human to be on the receiving end of a life changing, or ending, bite. The only people out were the Cleaners, driving slowly in armored vehicles, coming out in special suits that, supposedly, a ghoul couldn’t bite through.

You had managed to avoid being seen by both, ducking around corners and sprinting past streetlights. The belt around your waist was heavy, but filled with the items needed to fend off an undead that ventured too close. They had formed a shaky peace with the humans who occupied the town, offering their services as both mediums and mercenaries. Tougher than the average human, with a connection to the veil between life and death. Their prices were never cheap, of course, but it seemed to be something people would pay for.

In return, they were allowed free run once a night to feast. Although if the rumors were true, then the ghouls would also pay for access to fresh meat outside of the allotted date. The same thing that brought them to life wouldn’t last forever, and there were whispers of the undead showing up with fresher body parts than they had previously.

Nothing official, of course. But rumors, like hordes, spread fast and couldn’t be contained for long.

You weren’t sure if them eating the living or using their bodies for… Bodies was worse.

As you passed another armored truck, two Suits scraped up a mishmash of ghoul and its victim. Both had lost the fight.

Pushing it out of your mind, you swallowed and steeled yourself for what was to come.

The moon had reached its high point when you arrived at the cathedral. Iron gates surrounded it on all sides. You could see Roamers out front, moaning in their own language with an occasional bit of the local tongue slipped in. Judging by how human their bodies still looked, they must have been recently turned.

Walking around, you found a hole in the fence and wriggled under it. Your belt caught, stopping you against where sidewalk met grass. Pulling a baton free, you clutched it one hand, and unclipped the belt with the other.

As fast as you could, you crawled under the pickets, wincing as your shirt snagged on one and ripped. With the moaning and groaning in the background, you hoped the sound was masked. Sucking in your stomach, you wriggled under and quickly yanked the belt after you, quickly putting it back on before standing.

A paper fell out of your unbuttoned pouch, and you snatched it up, trying to shove the contents back inside while keeping your head on a swivel.

Keeping the baton out, you stared at the stained glass windows. Once upon a time, they had shown images of doves, holy books, and saints. Now, they showed the undead, brought to life by a mixture of science and a bit of magic. Some said they were the second coming, but you didn’t believe it.

Gritting your teeth, you made a beeline for the side door. The front was filled with the roamers. A few were passed out on the ground, chests rising and falling with the memory of breathing.

It took all your self-control not to turn around and go through the hole you came through.

It was all going well, until you felt a wet spot on the back of your shirt. Pausing, you put a hand to the spot, and pulled away your fingers, heart leaping in your throat when you saw they came away red.

Blood.

A warm summer breeze hit you, and the creaking of ancient bones filled the air as the roamers turned in your direction. Cloudy eyes squinted as nostrils flared. Clutching the baton, you ran to the side door.

The handle felt slick in your grasp as you fumbled with it. As you tugged, the sound of metal scraping on metal seemed so loud, no doubt alerting the hoard of your presence if your blood already hadn’t.

Some shuffled toward you, heads tilted to the side as they seemed to take you in, But before you could get a better look, you yanked the door open and ran inside, slamming it behind you.

A few candles lit up the hallway as florescent lights flickered above enough to give you pause. Panting, you clutched the weapon tighter as you waited for something to burst from the darkness.

Something instead hit the door behind you, spurring you forward. Casting a glance over your shoulder, you saw a few staring at you through the glass. Sweaty palm prints pressed against the pane as they leaned against it. Black fluid seeped from lips as they sniffed.

Backing away, you had barely turned around when you nearly slammed into a figure in the dark. You took a swing, feeling it connect. A grunt told you it made an impact. The scent of posies and peppermint filled your nose, making your hair stand on end.

Then, a large hand wrapped around your arm, twisting it to make you drop the weapon, Your body turned with it, dumping a few of your belt’s contents onto the floor. Before your arm snapped, you saw the amber eyes, a signature of the resurrected dead.

He sniffed, the ichor seeping from his lips. Unlike the Roamers outside, it was less viscous and more of a dark grey as opposed to pure black.

You brought your hand back to strike him, but he let go, sending you to the floor in a heap. Before you could get your bearings, he reached down and picked up the paper.

“You’re here to see Romero?” His teeth looked like they had been filed to a point. His grey tongue stewed in more drool.

The raspy voice sent another chill up your spine. Sure, ghouls could speak, but it was one thing to hear it over a radio or television, another thing to hear it in person.

“Y-yeah.” You managed to say, eyeing your weapon. As you inched toward it, you felt your stomach drop as the creature’s hand grabbed your shoulder, then slid down to your bicep.

Unceremoniously hauled to your feet, you winced and waited for the bite….

But it never came. 

“Very well….” He started to walk, all but pulling down the hallway. To keep yourself from being dragged, you regained your footing and did your best to match the much larger man’s pace.

When you both came to double doors leading the auditorium, you saw the name plate.

Romero.

The ghoul knocked on the door, his meaty fist making it echo in the empty hall. You squinted, half expecting more undead to come scrambling out of the dark and to devour you.

“Enter.” A voice called from on the other side of the door. It was muffled, but your heart still skipped a beat at how… Familiar it sounded.

Your escort opened the door. The creaking drug out, and your heart skipped a beat to see…

A man you’d never seen before. The scarred, mismatched skin of a ghoul covered his body, along with the split coloring of black and white on his scalp, one half straight, the other curly. His attire was a suit, pressed, with a bright red tie.

He was sat at a desk next to the pulpit, flipping through a file. Classical music softly played on a record player, not audible beyond the room.

“Leave us, please.” He didn’t look up from his file.   

The escort’s grip on your arm loosened. Hot breath stirred at your neck, and you turned at the last second, seeing his opened mouth mere inches from your shoulder.

“Get your mouth away from her.” The file hit the desk, scattering a few loose pieces of paper. Romero finally looked up, eyes shimmering in the candlelight.

Your escort stepped away, wiping his mouth and slurping down the drool.

“How would you like it if someone gave you a plate of food they’d taken a bite out of?” Romero’s eyes narrowed, and he snapped his fingers, pointing to the door.

“Sorry boss, won’t happen again.”

 “Make sure of it.” Romero followed him to the door. The creaking of his joints made you grit your teeth. His movements were just slow enough to look strange. How long had it been since you fed? Your eyes flicked to the desk again, where you saw a plate, only juices remaining of what he’d been eating.

Swallowing, you stood up straight, trying to not show fear.

Romero closed the door, turning the lock and hanging the key on a nail next to it.

“So.” He deeply sighed, closing his eyes. Veins protruded from his skin, slithering across his brow and cheeks. “You’ve come to the cathedral during feeding night.”

He opened his eyes, the veins stopped squirming, and he began to walk toward you, hands clasped behind his back. When he stopped, the scent of peppermint rolled over you. Sweat beaded on your upper lip as you swallowed, trying to not spit as the scent burrowed its way into your mouth and tongue.

“I’m amazed the horde didn’t take you at the gate.” He towered over you, eyes tracking back and forth as he sized you up.

Your breath caught in your throat as memories flooded back. Those eyes… So long ago.

They looked at you with love.  

“Relax.” He turned to the side and waved a dismissive hand through the air, as if trying to rid himself of a bad smell. “I’m not fond of eating someone whose mind would be a detriment to my intellect.”   

“A detriment?” You raised a brow, shaking the thoughts from your mind. Right. The creature in front of you was a thief!

“That’s how I would describe your actions. Too stupid to live.” He unfolded the piece of paper, staring at the flyer and rolling his eyes.  

“If more people like you were in power, the undead would have overtaken the city in months when we first started to walk.”

“Are you going to insult me this whole time?” You clenched your fists. “If this is how you treat everyone, I’m amazed the undead weren’t mowed down when you first started to walk.”

“Have a seat.” He gestured to the pew in front of the desk, before pulling open a drawer. “Clementine? Cranberries?” 

“What?” You expected to see a few cans or fruit cups, but your mouth watered when he pulled out the fresh produce, along with a bottle of water.  

“You think we only eat the flesh of the dead?” He tossed you the bottle of water, which you caught. Checking to make sure that it hadn’t been opened or had holes in the cap, you slowly opened it. “You’ve got a lot to learn.” 

Finishing the water bottle, you set it next to you on the pew. You heart skipped a beat as his eyes fell on you again, now glittering with curiosity.

“You’re too old for your actions to be a dare or some childish foolhardiness.” Romero didn’t sit, but leaned on his desk. It creaked under his weight. “Did a spurned lover put you out? Angry boss threw you here because you fell behind on your performance?”   

You shook your head. Why was he asking so many questions?

Sweat trickled down your neck as you pushed down the memories starting to rear their heads again. Grabbing the water bottle, you made a show of crushing it down until only a small ring of plastic was under the cap.

“Are you in debt? Terminally ill?” His voice was softer, light returning to his eyes. His cheeks and hands started to look less clammy. “Because if it’s the latter, you’ll find no reprieve here. A vampire might be more to your liking.” 

“If I had those problems, then I would have let the hordes in the street take me. Maybe I would have been someone dragging terrified living through the halls.” You put a hand to your bicep, knowing it was likely going to bruise. At least a handprint was better than a bite mark.

“You’ve seen my kind.” The kindness was gone as he all but bit off each word. He held up an arm, showing where his wrist met the rest of his arm. The skin tones were slightly different. “Mismatched and sewn together from the best parts the dead—” He paused, rolling his eyes in a reluctant admittance. “—And occasional living, offer. We pay for the bodies, they pay us for the minds.”

“Yes.” You nodded to the paper in his hand. “I’ve seen it. Flyers around town, teasing them with promises of being able to talk to loved ones who passed on, or helping the police find criminals.”

“Is that why you’ve come?” He smiled, crumpling the paper in his fist and tossing it over his shoulder.

Inhaling sharply, you gripped your pant legs, nails digging into the fabric.   

“Did I hit a nerve?” The smile grew larger, but didn’t reach his eyes. A small part of you was relieved.  

“I take it you didn’t come prepared with money?”

“The flyer didn’t—”    

“I never take clients on feeding nights.” He held up a hand to cut you off, then stepped down the stairs to close the distance between you. “Too grisly. Lots of people upset that I’m eating in front of them.” 

You couldn’t hide your disgust as your lip drew backward and your face scrunched up. Leaning back in the pew, you crossed your arms. So, you’d come all this way for nothing?

“I’ve consumed lots of minds over the years.”  He put two fingers to his temples. “So many memories jumbled together. It’s hard to tell who they originally belonged to. The process to get… Specific can be taxing.  Of course, these things don’t come cheap, but there are many who are willing to pay if it means getting some closure from a loved one.”  

The eyes… They stared at you, trying to gauge your reaction. When your face relaxed, you were rewarded with a clementine. Peeling back the skin, you stared down at the fruit.

“Usually something is needed to trigger recollection. A trinket. A song.”  His voice was a lot closer. Closing your eyes, you didn’t dare look up to see how near he was to your face. Surprisingly, you could smell mint mixed in with his warm breath.   

“A smell…” 

A breeze stirred. And the memories lanced their way through your mind. Even when your squeezed your eyes shut, they remained.

“I can see it now, actually.” Romero’s voice was faint, fading into the ambience of downtown. A train whistled, and you sat on a bench, a suitcase at your side.  

 “You were supposed to meet him at the train station.” Romero’s voice was gone. The cadence… The tone… the speech pattern. You didn’t dare turn around to face him, for fear that everything would fade away. His voice. The one that matched the eyes.

“Both of you wanted to escape to a new city, leave this life behind. A place without the undead. Where you wouldn’t have to worry about the pressures of your families. Somewhere no one knew either of you. A clean slate. Thrive, not just survive.”   

“But his family had debts.” The scene began to fade away as a clock above the train tracks spun, people and other occupants of the station moved by in a blur.

“Ones that buried them worse than the corpses that make up the graveyard. They gave up everything to make it. Gambling on someone that they hoped would be the light at the end of their miserable tunnel.”  

The cathedral returned, and you saw Romero’s mismatched hand out of the corner of your eye.

“He was far from the only one.” The ghoul dropped his hand and shook his head. The pew creaked as he stood back in front of you.    

“His body was the base for my current form.” He ran his hands over his suit, fingers tracing over the buttons. For a moment, you thought he would undo them and show you the patchwork beneath it.

“But, like many, it needed better pieces. Parts had to be replaced. So many minds were absorbed in creating this.” His hands went back to his temples, pointer fingers resting on them.  

 “Of… Me?” He sounded unsure, brow furrowing as his straight hair fell over his eyes. “Us?”

His fingers went from his temples to his eyelids.   

“The eyes stayed, though. His were lovely. Although I suppose you knew that the moment ours met.” 

 You sucked in air through your teeth.

“What…” He shook his head and dropped his hands, placing a hand on his chest. His voice lacked bravado. For a moment, it looked like a tear was shimmering on his cheek. “Who he was doesn’t exist anymore. He’s… sorry. That he left you waiting. But he’s glad to see you’re doing well.”

Your heart fell into your stomach. If you hadn’t been sitting, then your legs would have given out. Panting, you placed a hand on your chest in a mirror of his own pose.  

 “Interesting…” His hand went to cover his mouth, but you would still hear his words. “Memories of the dead… Creating feelings.”   

He made a fist and cleared his throat, body becoming stiff.

“Is that all you needed to hear? I think we’re pushing things as we are.”   

“How did you do all that? Make me see that night?” Your words came out barely above a whisper. Your voice shook with each word. “Is this some trick?”

Your heart fluttered, and you reached out to touch the ghoul, as if that would bring them all back again.

“Forgive me, it was a mistake to refer to him in the present tense.” He started to back away from you, waving his hand in that dismissive way. “I don’t mean to make you angry.” 

 “I’m…” You felt tears slipping down your cheeks, large and hot. They fell down onto your collar and chest. “Not angry…” It surprised you, but you realized it was the truth. You certainly weren’t happy… But far from… The fury you expected.

“Such an expression doesn’t do you justice.” His expression softened, and his hand cupped your soaked cheek.  

“You’re still radiant despite it.” 

“Is this… Normal?”

 “Your presence is pulling him to the forefront. Quieting the others.” He put a finger to his lips with his freehand, closing his eyes. Inhaling deeply, he exhaled the minty breath over your face, covering you with goosebumps.

You didn’t dare say anything. Didn’t breathe. Worried that any noise you made would send him back to the hive mind. Losing him forever. A second death after seeing him for only a short amount of time.

How could people subject themselves to this?

“There are a lot of minds I’ve absorbed. Memories.” His hand went from your cheek to the curve of your neck. 

“But never emotions.” 

 “So does that mean he’s… Piloting you right now?” You felt silly for asking. Of course he wouldn’t be. Why would he refer himself to the third person?

“It would be impossible to bring him back, I apologize.” He dropped his hand. The icy cold of your cheek stung, like he’d slapped it.

“And yet…”

You finally sucked in a breath. Your heart slammed against your ribs, a battering ram that threatened to break them. Swallowing hard, you placed your palms on the back of the pew and forced yourself to stand.

“I appreciate all you’ve done. But I think we’re moving past a professional relationship.”

“Right. Yes.” He finally broke the gaze, and it was like a piece of you was torn free. “There is a cot that you can stay on until feeding night is over. Once the sun is out, then you can head home.”

You headed to the door, hand hovering above the key. It was the one thing that would give your freedom, but lock him away forever.

So many questions swirled around in your mind. It was a rare opportunity.

Turning back around, you nearly jumped out of your skin when you saw Romero standing between the pews. Far enough away to give him deniability of following you, but closer than he’d been when you’d arrived.  

“Perhaps it’s these eyes of his.” He clasped his hands behind his back. “But ever since you walked into this room, I haven’t been able to see you as food, but as a thing of beauty. And your smell… Appetizing, but it entranced me further.” 

He took another step closer, eyes flicking to the key. It was slow enough to give you enough time to leave. To tell him to stop.

But you didn’t move.

These eyes of his…

Memories… Feelings… Sorry… Glad to see you’re doing well…

“I don’t want you to get confused.” You blurted. “You aren’t him.”

“I know.” He admitted. “But these memories…” He stopped within arm’s length of you. “I will never be a replacement for him, but perhaps you can find some comfort in that a small part of him will continue to live on.”

You sniffed and wiped your eyes. The touch. The gaze. The way he talked… There was no way to convince yourself it was him…

But this was as close as you could get.

You closed the distance between you two and wrapped your arms around him. The way he felt was… Wrong, but at least the warmth was the same. You expected stiff and cold. But you let your head rest on his chest, expecting to hear and feel the familiar rhythm of his heart.

Only silence answered.   

His fingers went under your chin, and he tilted your head up toward his. Rough lips brushed against yours in a chaste kiss. You closed your eyes. All you could see was the ghoul in the darkness.

“Perhaps we can continue to learn from one another.” His lips scratched against your earlobe. “You’ll find more of your love’s memories, and I’ll explore these emotions and senses…” His fingers slid between yours, the touch sending a jolt of pleasure through you.  

You finally locked eyes with him, looping your arms around his neck. His hands went to your waist, and your bodies pressed up against one another.

Your lips met again, and he grabbed the back of your head and crushed you two together. He moaned softly, his rough mouth wet against yours. Remembering the ichor, you squeezed your own shut and prayed none would get into your mouth.

Then, a growl.

A sharp pain went up the curve of your neck. His hair brushed your skin and you tangled your hands in his hair.

Had it all been an act?

Was this how you died?

Then, he was off, licking his lips and shaking his head. 

“Sorry… Some natures are… Hard to ignore.” He stared at you, straightening his arms to look you over.  

 “Are you alright?”

“It hurts.” You admitted, putting a hand to the bite. It stung, but the skin didn’t seem to be broken. “Will I turn?”

“No.” He shook his head. “It’s… Just a love bite.”

You swallowed. Your head spun as you leaned into him once again. The surprise wore off, and so did the pain.  

 “Then I’m fine.”

“If I had a pulse,” He cupped your cheek again, bending down to brush his lips against yours in a much more chaste kiss. Guiding your hand to his chest, he let it rest. “It would be racing right now.  “There’s so much of you I want to feel and taste…  When I thought about sinking my teeth into your flesh, I never wanted to break it. Only leave you bruised.”

He made a clicking noise with his tongue.

“I suppose… I’ve already done that.”  He tilted his head to the side and winced apologetically, fingers brushing against the bite mark. Each touch made you stand up straight and suck in a breath, crushing your bodies together again, to where only your clothes separated you.

“I wanted… Want to indulge all of my senses with you.” He pulled you in for an embrace again, planting a kiss on the top of your head. “The moans that escape you dancing on the razor’s edge of pleasure and pain.”

A kiss on your forehead.  

“Lips that call out my name toward the heavens rather than cursing me into the dirt.” 

A kiss on your eyelid.

“Fingers that tangle in my clothing.” A kiss on your earlobe again, as his own digits twisted in the back of your shirt. “Pulling me closer instead of pushing away.” 

A kiss on your nose.

“Inhaling my scent rather than twisting away in disgust…”

A kiss on the lips.  

“A flavor that brings us mutual pleasure.”    

When he pulled away, you kissed him again. Your legs trembled, and he brought you to one of the pews and let you lean against it.

“We take parts of other bodies,” His hands roamed, going under your shirt. He found the wound from the fence, but his fingers danced around it with such dexterity that it didn’t hurt.

“I’d love to see one in its base state.”   

 You felt the all too familiar hardness between his legs. The touch almost made you cry out in shock. Sure, they took bodies, but they were… Anatomically correct?

“I’m undead, but I can still respond to stimuli.” He chuckled, then pulled back to give you room between him and the pew. “We may not reproduce like you do, but there’s still some pleasure that can be taken from it…”  

 “Ghouls have sex?”

“Maybe not nearly as often as humans do. But some memories stir… And if there’s a mood…” He titled his hand side to side with a noise of uncertainty.

“But I’ve never wanted to do it as much as I have with you right now.”

“Then surely… You remember how I like to be touched?” You felt your cheeks burn at your own forwardness. This was crazy.

But yet, you found yourself fumbling for your clothes, tossing them behind you on the pew. 

He stared, lips parted slightly as he took you in.

“Perfection…” 

The staring didn’t last long before he was kissing you again.

“I mean it. Truly.” He managed between kisses as his hands continued to explore, finding every sensitive spot and curve on you, his touch only becoming more eager as you let out soft sighs and moans.

“Just as lovely as it was… No… Better.”

Then, he broke the barrage of kisses to loosen his tie and start unbuttoning his suit. Unbuckling his belt, he gave you a sly look as his pants fell around his ankles. He stripped all fabric off him, revealing the patchwork skin beneath in the candlelight.  

“It’s only fair if I’m as naked as you.” 

 Shadows danced across his skin, making it harder to tell where some ended and others began. A strange stitching of flesh that he somehow made look whole.

 “As I said, we take all the best parts… Some for aesthetic. Some for health.”

You ran your hands over his skin, fingers more adept at finding the cracks in him than your eyes.  

 “I try to find a mixture of both.” He let out a soft gasp as your hands trailed lower over his hip bones. “Haphazard, yet coherent.” 

 Then you saw the cock rising and drooling. The fluid glistened in the light, and you sucked in a breath.

“His eyes weren’t the only thing I kept…” He softly moaned as your fingers brushed against it. Somehow, it managed to grow harder and leak more, leaving a glistening trail on your skin.

“It remembers your touch quite well. You appear to be a master of the flesh yourself.” 

 He brought you in for another kiss, moaning into your mouth as you pumped him. Your hands became slick with him, and it helped lube him up more. His hips bucked, hilting into your grip. You squeezed more, increasing your pace as you felt between your legs tingle with the memory of him…

You dropped to your knees, continuing to stroke, the head dampening with your pants.  

“It seems to fit in your hand…” He moaned as you took him into your mouth. “And mouth , perfectly!” 

He moaned, thrusting into your mouth. You opened wide for him, letting him go as deep as he could. It had been a while, but you moaned around him, grabbing his thighs to pull him back in when he tried to back out. When he did manage to get free, you sucked on his thighs and balls, tongue leaving a shimmering path behind you.

His panting and your sucking joined the classical music in the background.

“That’s certainly one way to draw out memories!” He moaned into you, resting his hands on the pew so he could thrust more into your mouth, but not hard enough to slam your head against the wood. You grabbed him harder, forcing him as deep as he could go while still sucking.   

“I imagine a lot more of my kind would be willing to work with the living using this method!” 

You pulled your mouth free, looking at his rock hard length, wet with your saliva. You pumped it a few more times, running your lips across the shaft and lapping at his balls. The taste… the smell.. the sight… You almost felt dizzy with delight at how familiar it all was.  

“I imagine kneeling on a stone floor isn’t terribly comfortable.” He offered his hand, and you took it. With a grunt, he hauled you to your feet. He brought his hands between your legs, the grin returning when he felt the wetness between them.  

“I feel it’s only fair to return the favor.”   

His lips were against your skin, sending more goosebumps over it as your nipples became erect.

 “Go ahead and lay back.”

You balanced on the edge of the pew. At least the sides were large enough to let you sit without it digging too much into your behind.  

 “Probably more comfortable.” He mumbled against your collarbone as he started to slide down, his lips and tongue mingling with your breasts, your stomach, hips…  

“I have a… different hunger that needs to be satisfied.” 

 He drew his tongue across your wetness, swirling around your clit, breath warm against your folds. He rolled his head, drawing out the motion, before drawing it back. His lips rested against your thigh, before he clamped down on it again.  

“Sorry.” His eyes went wide as his mouth continued to nibble across your thigh, before he pulled off with a suctioning sound. Grunting, he pulled off, about to apologize again, before you wrapped your legs around his head and yanked him closer.  

“I didn’t take you for the type to enjoy that.” His muffled voice rumbled through you, and your back arched.  

He continued to lick, parting your lips so he could plunge in deeper. His tongue moved with precision, teeth barely grazing your clit. Warm breath punctuated with moans vibrated through your entire body as he continued to devour you, not even coming up for air.    

Eager lips parted and lapped at your wetness, fingers prying you open and delving deeper as he moved his head side to side, face slick with your essence.

You braced yourself on the pews, panting and moaning as the licks continued to spark the desire in you, then fanned the small flame into an inferno. You cried out, back arching again as your legs locked around his head. Taking shallow breaths, you tried to not fall backward.

“You’re truly on that edge.” He said with another lick, pulling back and running his tongue up your thigh. “A precipice of danger and desire.” 

With no mercy, he licked and sucked more, focusing purely on your clit as his fingers slipped in and out of you, going deep and brushing against your most sensitive spots. Your moans grew louder, your body slick with sweat as the inferno raged out of control. You saw stars, your vision fracturing like the stained glass all around you.

“I want to fill that emptiness left.  Cure an ache I never knew I had.” He murmured against you.  

“I can’t replace him, but…”

You rocked forward, all but collapsing into his arms and sending you both to the floor in a heap. He caught the both of you, his suit forming a sort of cushion beneath the two of you. It still hurt, but you didn’t care, only kissing him more.  

“Maybe… Just for tonight. We can both feel alive, again.” 

You answered with a kiss.

“I can’t do much to make a stone floor comfortable, sorry.” He pointedly looked around at all the scattered clothing.  “I doubt the two of us could fit properly on a pew…”

He sat up with a grunt, still cradling you in one arm.

“The only really cushioned spot in here is my chair…” He nodded to the desk.  

“So. I guess you’ll have to sit on my lap.” He grunted and winced as his joints popped while standing.  

“Come on, up we go.”  

You started to stand, but your body felt like jelly and collapsed underneath you again.

“Having trouble getting your legs under you?” He grabbed your hand tighter and then pulled you into a bridal carry, taking you to the desk.

“You’re not?”

He sat you down against the desk. You leaned on it for support as he sat in his chair, patting his thigh.  

“Have a seat.” There was the glittering of mischief in his eyes. So warm. With a smile that actually reached the edges.  

You straddled his lap, clinging tight to his shoulders as you hovered over him. You could feel the wetness of your entrance and his tip as they brushed against one another. Letting out another gasp, you lined yourself up and finally took him inside.  

“A perfect fit.” His whispered into your ear.

Once you had gotten comfortable, he began to thrust up into you, hands on your hips.    

“ It’s like everything I remembered,” He said between moans. “Despite never having felt it before.” 

He started to speed up, reaching further than his fingers and tongue ever could. Your walls opened up, allowing him inside you. Your synchronized moans overtook the record player, but you didn’t care.  

“Creating new memories…” He crashed his lips onto yours, and you met his movements with your own.  He moaned into your mouth, his cock twitching as his grip on you only grew tighter.  

“The hair’s width of distance—” Another moan, and his breath caught. Sweat poured down his brow with exertion. “Between life and death growing thinner.”

  He slowed, drawing out the motion intentionally, all but dragging himself inside you.

 “And thinner.” His voice was breathy, shallow breaths warmed your skin and lips.  

He sped up again, hilting you each time and making you cry out. You stopped meeting his movements and clung onto him as he thrust in and out of you.  

“Every kiss—” He once again brought his lips to yours. “Moan…” His voice trailed off into a moan. “Drop of sweat….” His hands released your hips and let you fall onto him.

“Another way to make the barrier dissolve.  And when you lean against me…” He thrust again, the motion lazy and agonizingly slow.  

 “It’s like you’re pushing through…  I guess we’ll have to keep finding holes and make due.” He chuckled and thrust up into you again.  

Then, he clamped onto your neck again. Rather than pain, you only went over the edge in pleasure, nails digging into him as you cried out. You clamped down on him as he released inside you. Fluid and wet mixed on your thighs and his lap, dripping onto the floor.

He sucked, cradling you close and finally pulling off, kissing it apologetically.

“I guess there’s some parts of my nature I can’t ignore.” He whispered against your skin. “We have some medical supplies to treat that.”

You couldn’t help but shoot him a look at you clutched the fresh bite. Your heart fluttered as your legs and between them tingled. Despite the fear, you couldn’t push down the excitement flooding your body.”

“Don’t worry, you won’t turn. Takes a bit more… Finesse to become one of us.” 

 You resting your head against his chest, hand searching for his beating heart. You let out a sigh of disappointment when you remembered there wouldn’t be one.

“I appreciate you indulging me. I hope this brought you some closure.” He stroked between your shoulder blades and nuzzled up against you.   

“And if it didn’t… Perhaps we could try again?” You expected him to laugh or make a joke, but his face was… Hopeful.    

“I feel like I’ve been revived a second time. It’s a phenomenon I’d like to explore more.” He stared at his hands, which were shaking. “New methods to channel the dead and creating memories that can… Coexist with the old ones.” 

“Making breakthroughs?” You managed to say. “Discovering new methods on how things work with your kind?”  

“I think your teaching style differs from what I’m used to.” His hand slid into yours again. “And I’d love to learn more.  Maybe your mind can be of use to me after all.”

[esshetic]

Solar Eclipse: Leaving Old Wounds Behind!

Leaving old ways of being behind.

We are having a Solar Eclipse New Moon in Aries on the 8th of April, packing power and punch, power to the people, with power, literally returning to the people. Which people? Those who are fed up with the oppressive power structures that are. How will it be returned? We take it back, with both hands!

We are the main characters.

The Eclipse is at 19 degrees Aries and according to degree theory, the 19th degree is associated with Libra, so the theme around this eclipse is You and I and We. I see this eclipse energy as a collective power struggle and not singular, meaning you are not alone in your feelings and experiences. We are now active participants on the world stage, rather than passive observers.

This new moon energy feels like an activation, a recharge of your batteries. It feels like you have been living life at 75%. However, with the letting go of the past and healing over the last two years, it now feels like you are living at 90% battery.

This is in part due to the collective healing work we have been doing. The generational wounds of colonialism, and capitalism have played a significant role. Also, those white-washing spiritual wellness capitalists... you get it, sound ridiculous. This spiritual decluttering is why we feel more energized. It is time for the hoarders to declutter their space, clean out the old. New health secrets are being revealed, and a breakthrough for medical science is occurring as we have collectively decided to rid certain diseases from our reality.

Those emotional triggers don't affect us the way they used to, huh?

It takes a village.

For the signs - this is collective healing and transmutation. Western spirituality has focused on the self, self-actualization, and personal manifestation goals, and never on the collective WE. We have been allowed to be selfish and self-serving, using ancient tools from ethnic minorities. No more. What do we collectively want? What do you want to manifest for the collective good?

CREATE YOUR FUTURE

Aries, Happy New Moon Eclipse! What better way to start the new world than with the brave first out-the-gate sign. You are first, taking the unbeaten path, and you will manifest for us the truth and the way by being brave and going first towards the unknown. This new moon is the new beginning that you have been waiting for, for a while. Walk in faith and not sight; the opportunities will arise when you are expectant of solutions to come.

Taurus, Happy New Moon Eclipse! The energy is dancing around in your 12th house, where you sleep, your cave of hibernation. The curtains are normally drawn, but it's wide open and the windows are open with the fresh air and sun rays streaming in unapologetically. You will hold space for us and manifest opportunities for wealth building for the new collective who are awakened and receptive to this new energy and new ways of being.

Gemini, Happy New Moon Eclipse! You are happy and excited like a labradoodle. This new moon is opening up your 11th house of earned income and collective efforts and community. This door has been closed off for a long time, Gemini, and with this new moon energy, you are creating for the collective fun, artwork that will inspire the world.

Cancer, Happy New Moon Eclipse! You are oh so tired, physically. This eclipse season has been an emotional rollercoaster, and you just want to sleep through it all. You are the ones who feel it all for us, transmuting the emotional highs and lows quietly for those of us who can’t, and we don't even notice! This new moon, you will get your flowers and be recognized for the emotional force that you are.

Leo, Happy New Moon Eclipse! The eclipse is in your 9th house, which will feel like a sunray blinding you. This energetic gateway is happening in your external reality; new horizons and opportunities are starting to take form. You, Leo, are a shining light in the hours of darkness for those who have lost their way. As you take a stand and shine, take pride in the positive effect you have on them.

Virgo, Happy New Moon Eclipse! This energy is bubbling under your 8th house. On the surface, on the day-to-day, things will look normal, but all the change is happening beneath the surface. You can feel it and have an instinct to do something different one day, which will bring a serendipitous exchange. Virgo, you are manifesting, trusting the process of change for us.

Libra, Happy New Moon Eclipse! This new moon has the opportunity to bring into your life a very important significant relationship. The energy is expanding your 7th house, making space for more opportunities. Live life outside the self-imposed box of what you think you are meant to do and be. Dear Libra, you are manifesting the element of surprise for the collective and creating more space for more good to enter our reality.

Scorpio, Happy New Moon Eclipse! The energy around this new moon for you guys is a little dark internally. Feelings of self-loathing and hate are bubbling to the surface for you to face. This new energy that is coming through in your 6th house needs to clean house first, hence why these emotions are coming through to be detoxed and released. You are manifesting deep change for the collective and are a transmuting powerhouse, allowing the old to go in peace.

Sagittarius, Happy New Moon Eclipse! This new moon is opening up your 5th house, of play, fun, and children. This energy feels like an ending or contracting, going into a ball, the way certain animals create these shapes when they want to appear small. This Aries energy does feel different this time around, and resistance is futile as change is inevitable here. You are manifesting grace for the collective who are struggling with letting go.

Capricorn, Happy New Moon Eclipse! This new moon is in your 4th house and I see a new home beckoning. If you have not signed the deed already, with a new home comes a new routine to get adapted to and a new neighborhood to explore. You are excited because you are ready and feel confident that you know what you are looking for and have decided what you want, which will allow things to manifest rapidly. Capricorn, you are helping the collective stand in conviction and confidence.

Aquarius, Happy New Moon Eclipse! The new moon is in your 3rd house, and I am seeing something coming full circle, and you are happy about it. Like the novel "The Alchemist," the protagonist finds the treasure back at his home, but you had to go on the journey to get to that point anyway! Something that you buried away is the treasure you have been looking externally for. The energy of wisdom earned is what you are manifesting for the collective.

Pisces, Happy New Moon Eclipse! This new moon is in your 2nd house, and I see a treasure chest, and you have the key in your hand, but you have not tried the lock yet. This is because the key in your hand opens a lock within and not the box in front of you. Material pursuits are not worth as much as godly spiritual growth, and this new moon is helping you go within to the immaterial. It makes no sense to choose the unknown, but you are manifesting dreams that money cannot buy and teaching the collective to dream bigger than capitalism.

[6leggedhorse]

Cleansing: How to do it and Choices and Reasons

Sometimes, energy can get hella stanky. It can become stagnant and what was once drawing in abundance and joy, is now drawing in boredom and lackluster vibes into you space. Today we’re embarking on a journey of sorts to understand cleansing and how to keep your space clean spiritually. So grab your favorite drink, a snack or two, your pet and get comfy!

What is cleansing?

To cleanse is to remove, clean or wash away stagnant,old or negative energy. You can do this with different materials and methods that can help and correspond to your goal of cleansing your space. This should be done if you have: negative energy in the space, stagnant energy, got the evil eye casted upon you, or have a basic low power spirit in the home. You can do this however often you may like whether it’s everyday with something as simple as sweeping or as bi weekly like cleaning your bathroom or monthly with running sage or music through the house. Make your cleansing ritual YOURS, you do not need to follow what another witch does on TikTok with 20+ steps on how to cleanse. You don’t have to go to Five Below and by the corny 5 dollar incense kit; you also don’t have to buy that 90 dollar clear quartz tower. Make it as simple or as extravagant as you want, just don’t destroy your bank account!

References

Choices on how to Cleanse

Sage

Traditionally used by Native Americans/Indigenous people, Sage has strong cleansing properties and a smell. It’s said that if someone gets a headache from Sage, it means they have bad energy or intentions or both. However, they may have allergies or simply are sensitive to the smell. When using Sage, be sure to not culturally appropriate the practice or buy from an unethical business. Be sure to get it locally or go to your local spiritual wellness shop or if you have a friend that’s got indigenous blood in them. If you’re GIFTED the Sage bundle, it’s okay to use it or give it away as a Native American myself, I do not mind giving Sage to friends or family for me personally I’m saying “protect yourself there’s yucky crap out there.” Now, for alternatives, you can use rosemary, Yerba Santa or even lavender to help cleanse. Be sure to do this with open windows as the smokes not great for your lungs and to free the energy!

Music/Noise/Sound

Whether or not it’s those frequency beats, banging pots or pans, or dancing to Chappell Roan, music, or just noise in general helps move the energy. Be sure to use positive songs or music with good intentions or songs that make you happy to help clear the stagnant energy. So if it means you listen to K pop and dance to it to help vacate the space do it. Like to use heavy metal? Use it. You want to listen to Norse themed music? Fuck it we ball. As long as it works for you, and makes you happy! Be sure to keep the windows open to free the energy

Incense

Similar to the Sage, incense can have the same effect on others when they enter your space and they may get a headache. You may walk around the room or explore the house with incense to clear the space. Be sure to do so with open windows as the smoke isn’t good for your longs all the time and to free the energy.

Crystals

Clear quartz, selenite, black tourmaline are a few great examples of cleansing your space. Whether you walk around with them or place them strategically throughout your home. They can be rather absorbent so be sure to cleanse them, Refresh their intent and research the best way to cleanse your crystals as some cannot be in water.

Salt lamps;Salt

Himalayan salt lamps or just salt can help clear and keep bad vibes out of your space effortlessly. However, just don’t eat it as you’ll be ingestion negative energy. This is one of the best ways to cleanse your space while in the broom closet. It also helps when you’re sick, improve sleep, improve mental health and clean the air. If you use plain piles of salt just be careful as ants and bugs do exist and they may see this as a clear invite to your home.

Palo Santo

I don’t know too much about this, but I think this is fairly similar to Sage, so please get this from an ethical source, and avoid cultural appropriation as much as possible. If I u understand correctly this is a Latinx and or south American cleansing item. It does have a smoke affect so this may trigger allergies and you need to open windows that way your not inhaling too much smoke and freeing the energy. It is said that this can also help with burns and stress as well as keep mosquitoes away.

Declutter

Clean your closet out. Wipe down surfaces. Sweep. Mop. Dust. Vacuum. Wash your bedding. Do laundry. Toss out those shoes with the sole that is being held together by duct tape. To declutter is also getting rid of your stagnant energy and whether you donate things, sell them or throw em’ out, it’s still getting rid of the energy. This is also great for broom closet folks! You can use moon water to clean surface tops or sound too; but be sure to make this ritual your own!

Plants

Plants can be protective and bring in specific intentions as well as being strategically placed. Again, another broom closet idea to keep your practice on the low. It’s said that if your plant is dying and you try to revive but it still dies or if it rapidly dies even though you did everything right, it may have protected you from a curse. Be sure to care for your plants, you can even put crystals in them to give them more power as crystals and plants are earth created things.

Epilogue and Life Update

TRIGGER WARNING: mentions of death/animal death/loss/mental health struggles/completion of suicide/grief

Hey guys,

These past four weeks have kicked my ass. Hard. After I lost a dog to Pyometra, the other dog my family had also just recently passed away from the same infection. My family is at a loss and paranoid beyond belief as they just got a new puppy for the dog that just passed away a few days ago. They plan on cleaning the entire back yard, keeping squirrels out as they’re pests in the area, regulating what goes into the back yard, watching what the puppy eats and drinks, no more water bowls outside etc. you name it they’re planning on or already have done it.

About two days prior to the most recent animal death, a former co-worker of mine passed away. He was, from my understanding and theory, struggling with mental health. He worked at the same place for a little over 40 years, his parents passed away, and he was in and out of relationship. But he was one of the most chillest dudes I met; unfortunately, he suffered in silence. He worked his shift and went home and unfortunately completed suicide. My former workplace got the call the next morning being told this by one of his family members. So, in between this the animal losses I lost a former co worker who was nothing but good to me and had nothing bad to say about me. I’m devastated, I keep busy during the day, but become paranoid and hyper vigilant towards the night as I await the call or text about the puppy passing away. Despite but not being the only one being paranoid, I feel completely leveled to nothing but tears when I’m not busy.

If you or someone is struggling with mental health or suicide, I encourage you to call someone. A friend, family member, teacher or who ever you know has your back. Things do get better but with time; sometimes things get worse before they get better; that’s how the cookie crumbles sometimes. Here are a couple resources:

- 988: call or text or chat online or ASL

-741741: text BRAVE to 741741

- 1 (800) 273- TALK (8255): call; it’s the nation hotline for suicide.

-https://www.mass.gov/info-details/crisis-hotlines

-https://rainn.org/

END OF TRIGGER WARNing

I hope you guys enjoyed this blog post, I ended up changing the schedule as Fridays I’m super tired from work just want to relax lol. Please take care of yourselves and I hope to see y’all soon! Please like, comment and reblog!

Until next time!

[cryopathiic-a]

[  VISITING  HOURS  ]

interesting prompts || accepting always

[  VISITING  HOURS  ]:     upon waking in a hospital bed, one of the muses turns their head, and finds the other sleeping in an uncomfortable chair by their bedside.

To get in had been the hardest part. He was armored with his ceremonial attire and the excuse of the right to practice one's faith being a widely acknowledged human right. But in truth what had helped him the most was the fact nursing was apparently yet another female-dominated line of work. And so he strolled the hallways to her appointed floor and there mistakenly entered another female patient's room and profusely apologized to the nurse there and thanked her for her directions — though not before snatching that patient's vital sign report from the pocket at the edge of the hospital bed.

And with the same tranquility he had walked a few rooms further down the hallway, until his heart skipped a beat upon closing the distance with the one and only being that mattered in this world. A nurse was fumbling with the heart monitor inside. Its rhythmic beeping welcomed them in the room; but there was something off with the machine, apparently.

God herself on a hospital bed.

Did mundane hybris truly have no limit?

❝ Konbanwa, sister. ❞ He begins; and the nurse turns - only to fall right into the trap of diamond eyes. After a brief chat on how the marvels of science can be disappointing because humans are not meant to control the whims of Gods and other jibber-jabber like that, she's walking out of the room and leaving the two alone, as is required for one to practice their spiritual needs with a confidant in the form of a priest. He has a legit visitor's card, after all. He was allowed in through security and he's taking out a chain of prayer beads that looks pretty antique and original, so it's fine. The guy looks safe.

Soon after he's assuming his rightful place by her bedside, looming over her pale visage as she rests peacefully. He pouts. There's a bullet hole the size of his thumb between her eyes. Michikatsu was not kidding when he spoke of special bullets. Fingers idly trace over the wound, applying the slightest pressure, if only to harvest some blood. He makes sure no one is passing by the room's window when he brings it to his lips for a taste of communion.

❝ Mm... how I've missed that, you have no idea. ❞ He breathes under a hum of delight. Blessing comes in the form of a forehead kiss. He presses his lips over the wound a moment longer; and cups her face with hands cold enough to jolt the dead back into life. ❝ I'm sure my lesser brethren has failed to accomodate your hospitalization already; but don't you worry, my blood. ❞ The smile he wears is shared between affection and sinisterness whilst gazing down on her resting features. He parts with her then, to drag the visitor's chair a little closer to the bed. It makes no sound, as he makes sure to single-handedly lift it off of the floor ever so slightly.

His eyes stalk the entrance when he discreetly reaches for her patient's report card. There's more papers than the other folder had. Digging into his cloak, he unearths the stolen report and briefly browses over both documents. Things highlighted in red; so much red. He's lucky; he got here on time and the doctors have yet to check on her vital stats. Things that are way above average; and others that are way below. He can't quite figure out what all those terms are - but he won't need to. He will only need to change the names on those cards.

And after that he will take the TV remote and put on stock market news, which is one of the Lord's favorite things to watch. And then he will settle there beside her, and take her palm to wrap both their hands together with the prayer beads and press her cold fingers to his forehead whilst mumbling a prayer or two — from those in his recollection.

Dōma would have an easy rest tonight. Knowing, that when sunlight finds him dozing off in that uncomfortable armchair on her bedside, his immunity will have been returned. And as for the miraculous recovery that would follow?

Well, with a pious man by her side day and night, surely some humans would be more... willing to believe their explanation.

[bitchyluminarynightmare]

Historic Landmarks of Corpus Christi You Can't Miss

Introduction

Welcome to the vibrant city of Corpus Christi, Texas! This charming coastal town is not only known for its stunning beaches and warm weather, but it also boasts a rich history filled with fascinating landmarks. In this article, we will explore the historic landmarks of Corpus Christi that you simply cannot miss. From iconic buildings to cultural CoolSculpting sites, these landmarks offer a glimpse into the past and showcase the unique heritage of this remarkable city.

1. The Corpus Christi Cathedral: A Symbol of Faith

The Corpus Christi Cathedral stands tall as a testament to the city's deep-rooted faith and religious heritage. With its stunning americanlasermedspa.com Gothic architecture and intricate stained glass windows, this landmark is a must-visit for both locals and tourists alike. Take a moment to admire the grandeur of the cathedral and soak in the spiritual atmosphere that surrounds it.

2. USS Lexington Museum: Reliving History

Step aboard the USS Lexington Museum and embark on a journey back in time. This aircraft carrier turned museum offers an immersive experience, allowing visitors to explore its decks, learn about naval history, and even climb into the cockpit of vintage aircraft. Get ready to walk in the footsteps of heroes as you dive into the rich history of this iconic vessel.

3. Art Museum of South Texas: Where Art Meets History

Located in downtown Corpus Christi, the Art Museum of South Texas is a treasure trove of artistic brilliance. With its diverse collection spanning various periods and styles, this museum showcases both local and international talent. Explore captivating exhibitions that blend art with history, providing visitors with a deeper understanding of culture and creativity.

4. Selena Memorial Statue: Honoring a Legend

No visit to Corpus Christi would be complete without paying homage to one of its most beloved icons – Selena Quintanilla Perez. The Selena Memorial Statue, located along the scenic waterfront, immortalizes the "Queen of Tejano Music" and serves as a reminder of her immense impact on the music industry. Take a moment to reflect on Selena's legacy and appreciate her cultural significance.

5. Corpus Christi Museum of Science and History: Unleashing Curiosity

For those with a thirst for knowledge, the Corpus Christi Museum of Science and History is an absolute must-see. This interactive museum offers a range of exhibits that delve into the city's past, present, and future. From archaeology to space exploration, there's something here to captivate visitors of all ages. Get ready to unleash your curiosity and embark on an educational adventure.

6. Old Bayview Cemetery: A Historical Resting Place

Step back in time at the Old Bayview Cemetery, the oldest federal military cemetery in Texas. This historic site dates back to the mid-19th century and holds the graves of soldiers who fought in various conflicts, including the Civil War. Stroll through this serene cemetery and pay your respects to those who bravely served their country.

FAQs: Q1: How many historic landmarks are there in Corpus Christi?

A1: Corpus Christi boasts numerous historic landmarks, each with its own unique story to tell. While it's difficult to pinpoint an exact number, there are over 25 significant landmarks that showcase the city's rich history.

Q2: Is there an entrance fee for visiting these landmarks?

[trikayaretreat]

Discover the Serenity at Trikaya Retreat

Nestled in the serene landscapes of India, Trikaya Retreat stands as a sanctuary for those seeking spiritual rejuvenation and holistic well-being. This unique retreat, named after the concept of Trikaya in Buddhism which signifies the three bodies of Buddha, offers a transformative experience that harmonizes mind, body, and spirit.

A Journey into Trikaya Philosophy

Trikaya Retreat draws its essence from the Trikaya doctrine of Mahayana Buddhism, which encompasses the Dharmakaya (the truth body), Sambhogakaya (the body of mutual enjoyment), and Nirmanakaya (the created body). This philosophical foundation manifests in every aspect of the retreat, guiding guests towards a deeper understanding of their inner selves and the universe.

Holistic Healing and Wellness

At Trikaya Retreat, the emphasis is on holistic healing, integrating traditional and modern practices to promote overall well-being. The retreat offers a variety of wellness programs, including yoga, meditation, and Ayurveda, tailored to meet individual needs.

Yoga and Meditation: The retreat's daily yoga and meditation sessions are designed to help guests connect with their inner peace. Experienced instructors guide participants through various asanas (postures) and pranayama (breath control) techniques, fostering physical flexibility and mental clarity.

Ayurveda Treatments: Embracing the ancient science of Ayurveda, Trikaya Retreat provides personalized treatments and therapies aimed at balancing the body's doshas (energetic forces). From detoxifying panchakarma therapies to soothing herbal massages, these treatments are crafted to restore harmony and vitality.

Eco-Friendly Accommodations

The accommodations at Trikaya Retreat are designed to offer comfort while maintaining a strong connection with nature. Guests can choose from eco-friendly cottages and villas, each constructed using sustainable materials and energy-efficient designs. The minimalist yet luxurious interiors ensure a restful stay, with large windows that offer breathtaking views of the surrounding greenery.

Culinary Delights

Nutrition plays a pivotal role in the holistic experience at Trikaya Retreat. The on-site restaurant serves a variety of organic, vegetarian, and vegan dishes prepared with locally sourced ingredients. The chefs emphasize mindful eating, creating meals that are not only delicious but also nutritionally balanced. Special dietary requirements are catered to, ensuring every guest's needs are met.

Activities and Excursions

Beyond the wellness programs, Trikaya Retreat offers a range of activities and excursions that allow guests to explore the natural beauty and cultural heritage of the region.

Nature Walks and Trekking: Guided nature walks and trekking excursions take guests through lush forests, scenic hills, and serene riversides. These excursions are perfect for those who wish to reconnect with nature and experience its calming effects.

Cultural Experiences: The retreat organizes visits to nearby temples, monasteries, and traditional villages, providing guests with insights into the local culture and spiritual practices. These excursions offer a unique opportunity to immerse oneself in the rich heritage of the area.

Personalized Retreats

Understanding that each individual's journey is unique, retreat near pune offers personalized retreat packages. Guests can work with wellness consultants to create a customized itinerary that aligns with their personal goals, whether it be stress relief, detoxification, or spiritual growth.

[hauteandpolisheddesigns]

How Your Design Choices Impact Your Mental Health

Let's face it, it's hard to catch a proper break these days. We've all had that experience of coming home after a long, tiring day just wanting to unwind on the sofa before doing it all over again the next day. We naturally seek the most comfortable spaces to retreat to and recharge our minds.

While so many parts of our lives may seem out of our control, our homes are the one places we can truly make our own, but many of our design choices for our comfort spaces may actually be contributing to the mental stress many of us find ourselves under. Interior designers will often work with psychology and other behavioral sciences to put together spaces that can decrease stress, fatigue, anxiety, and promote a more positive mental state.

As our day-to-day lives become more stressful and wear down our minds, here are a few ways that your spaces may be contributing to your mental health.

What Your Favorite Colors Are Saying

Color psychology has long proven that colors and color palettes have a significant impact on the way our brain reacts and functions while in their presence.

Red, although often a color of passion and energy, in the wrong spaces can beckon feelings of anger, aggression, and even hunger. Avoid using bright reds in places where you want to feel at ease and in the dining room - or you may find yourself eating more than you can handle!

Orange is a warm and inviting color that promotes confidence and gives you a feeling of success and enthusiasm. Used improperly in excess, however, orange can frustrate you and make you a tad impulsive.

Yellow is, of course, the most cheerful and positive of the color spectrum. Yellow can spark creativity and optimism, but can also make you anxious and on edge.

Green provides more natural tranquility with added feelings of growth and renewal. Greens with more yellow undertones can provoke feelings of unease and nausea if used in larger quantities.

Blue in light shades and tints has been proven to reduce anxiety and stress as well as lower blood pressure. Lighter blues can make your spaces more tranquil and are ideal for spaces where you want to decompress. Darker shades of blue, however, may cause feelings of sadness and loneliness.

Purple is a little tricky and will often depend on the shade. While lighter purples can induce calmness and courage, darker shades focus on spirituality, power, and promote feelings of luxury and ambition.

Change Up the Layout!

Get ready to move everything around! Okay, maybe not everything, but a good reevaluation of your furniture layout can oftentimes reveal that you don't absolutely ~love~ how you move through your space. You may find that your path of travel is inconvenient or that your recliner is angled in direct line of the sun glare on the TV.

Although small things like this seem insignificant in the grande picture, those same little neusances can often contribute to negative experiences in your favorite spaces and can chip away at our mental well-being on top of everything else. If you get frustrated by the way you always run into your coffee table, consider pushing your sofa set around until you have given yourself enough space to walk around it. If space is the issue, a different variation of the layout may prove to solve the small problem and make you a bit less irritated with your space.

Consider what the main focus areas of our furniture arrangements are. Is your bedroom arranged to view the en suite bathroom or the windows that allow in bright, warm light into your room? Do you provide space on your dining table for everyone to avoid overcrowding? All is to say, you don't need to buy all new furniture to be pleased with your area. Simply moving things around can create the feel of a brand new space with the same furniture items you already own.

Bringing the Outside In

Have you ever sat on the beach and fallen asleep to the sound of the waves crashing on the sand and the gentle breeze on your face? Or are you more of a hiker that enjoys taking breaths of deep, fresh air at the top of a mountain trail? Regardless, nature has proven itself to be extremely beneficial to both physical and mental health.

Studies show that even looking at images of nature landscapes have a significant improvement on stress, blood pressure readings, and being clear of mind. Try bringing nature inside by adding some plants or nature-based artwork into your home. Small pieces of nature in your comfort spaces can help you set the foundation for a deeper connection with your home and the environment it sits on.

Not much of a nature person? No problem! The brain will connect textures, scents, and colors with nature for you. You don't have to fill your home with leaves and seashells to gain the benefits of nature-inspired design.

These are just a few ideas of ways you can use design to improve your mental wellbeing. Got any more brain-friendly design ideas? Share it with us in the comments!

If you're ready to explore your spaces, let's connect through a complimentary discovery call.

Visit our website at https://www.hauteandpolisheddesigns.com/

[heroesdesignandbuildoakland]

A Guide To The History And Importance Of The Oakland California Temple

In the San Francisco Bay Area's religious landscape, the Oakland California Temple is a particularly noteworthy location. It was built outside of Utah for the first time in 1964 and is still one of just nine Latter-day Saint temples in California today. Local members of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints have used the temple as a source of inspiration and fortitude, and many have traveled here on pilgrimage to partake in the spiritual experiences held here.

The Oakland California Temple is not only a place of worship but also a marvel of architecture. It has a grand ivory tower that Harold W. Burton created, and a 200-foot-tall dazzling gold statue of an angel atop it. The temple's grounds are exquisitely designed and include a number of unique gardens, including the Shangri-La Garden, which is located behind the main structure. Stunning stained glass windows and a gorgeous celestial room with white marble walls and gold decorations can be seen inside.

For many members of the faith, the Oakland California Temple has been a crucial spiritual hub, and those who visit it feel proud to be from the area. Here are some suggestions to assist you navigate your journey if you're interested in learning more about this landmark. The Oakland California Temple excursion: The Oakland California Temple is best experienced on one of the regularly scheduled tours that are offered there. These tours give an overview of the history of the temple and some of its most notable features, and they are offered on Saturdays from 9:00 am to 3:30 pm. A lecture by the tour guide is given in the heavenly room, and then the group is led on a walking tour of various areas of the structure. You can wander the grounds on your own after your tour to enjoy the serene ambience. Services held at the temple, such as baptisms, endowments, sealings, and other rituals, are open to visitors as well. However, those who have reached a specific level of spiritual maturity within The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints are permitted access to these services.

Visitors can immerse themselves in a sacred environment of faith and culture from The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints in the San Francisco Bay Area at the Oakland California Temple. This stunning location provides an unparalleled opportunity for reflection and worship. It is sure to give every visitor an amazing experience with its stunning architecture, serene grounds, and intriguing history.

The Oakland California Temple is unquestionably worth a visit, whether you're a follower of the church or just searching for a cool place to go. Learning About the Neighborhood: In addition to visiting the Oakland California Temple, there are lots of other sights and things to do in the neighborhood. Along with some of Oakland's top cultural attractions, the temple is close to a number of well-liked cafes and shopping malls. Visit the Chabot Space & Science Center for interactive exhibits and educational programs, or stroll through Chinatown to feel the lively spirit of this distinctive neighborhood. Jack London Square, Children's Fairyland, and the Oakland Museum of California are among further area attractions. Whatever you're looking for, the vicinity of the Oakland California Temple has a lot to offer.

[asmaanada]

Chapter 1

On my birthday, I visited a house that was shrouded in mystery. I walked there straight from the train, and it was a sunny day with no wind, rain, or other ominous weather to give it a foreboding air. I could see the goods train passing in front of the house's entrance as it glided along the bridge in the valley. However, I won't say that everything was absolutely normal because I doubt there is anything that could be considered normal.

First, I want to explain how and why I arrived there. Due to health issues, I had to stay in the town, and one of my friends learned of this. He wrote to me about the house and said he thought it would be ideal for me. When I was travelling to London from the north, I made a resolution to stop by the house. However, it was midnight when I boarded the train and I promptly fell asleep. When I awoke, I glanced out the window at the brilliant aurora borealis.

Ironically, though, I was completely persuaded that I hadn't slept at all, and in this state of ignorance, I guess I felt humiliated since I was on the verge of arguing with the man seated before me because he had so many cunning tricks in addition to acting in a way that was so out of character. I had to accept him on the premise that he was a capable engineer because he had a pencil and a pocketbook, so he could hear and record his observations, which I assumed related to the jolts and bumps of the train cars. Though he appeared to be a gentleman, his behaviour was intolerable because he would look at me whenever he heard a collision.

I turned to my travelling companion and said: "When I woke up, the sun had not yet risen and it was cold. I saw the pale light of the railroad fires and the veil of smoke that blocked the stars and sunshine.

Do you see anything wrong with me, sir? Excuse me. I honestly can't take it any longer, so

The man graciously turned away while expressing pity for my trivialities.

You and I are unrelated, sir.

He abruptly stopped speaking before uttering the letter "o," which he quickly recorded in the notes. Being unable to converse with the guards and these bizarre features initially worried me, so it's fortunate that I had the thought that this man is probably He should write psalms for a hymn-singing religious group. I appreciate this sect even though I do not subscribe to it. I was about to ask him a question when he started to talk.

"If you know that I'm concerned in enhancing human nature in general, you'll understand why. All day and night, I engaged in association and communication with spirits."

- Oh!

The evening talks have begun.

The man went through the pages of his notebook and kept talking.

Manners are ruined by evil voices.

- Voices but unquestionably new

New souls

I could only repeat the word he likes, "Oh," and inquire enquiringly about his most recent interaction, to which he solemnly replied.

The saying "a bird in the hand is worth two in the air"

-But it can't be two in the bush, can it?

-I obviously heard it as two in the air.

He responded assuredly and continued, saying:

- Look! This unique message was delivered to me by the ghost of Socrates.

I hope all is fine with you, my friend. There are two train cars with 17,000 and 70 souls in them, but you cannot see them. Pythagoras is also present, but he is unable to speak. Nevertheless, he hopes that you enjoy travelling. Galileo Lycus' spirit came into the world as well. She added that everything would happen on time and added, "I am glad to meet you, Amiko." Additionally, the following events took place during the night:

The Gentleman's Spiritual Relationship seemed to me to be such an unprofessional business as science has always seen it at that lovely hour of the morning when I walked among the leaves that had already fallen from the golden, brown, and burgundy trees, as I looked around at the wonders of creation and contemplated the unchanging and harmonious laws by which they are preserved. However, that I came to this house and stood to carefully inspect it, it was a single house, sta

It was constructed around the time of George II; It was empty but was inexpensively repaired in a year or two to make it habitable; It was as stiff, frigid, formal, and bad-tempered as the most enthusiastic lover of the entire George Quartet could hope; Cheap, I say, because the work was only superficially completed, the paint was already peeling, the siding had fallen in the garden, the trees were quite close together and excessively shading the area, and there were six tall poplar trees in particular. It was simple to determine that the property had been abandoned and that no one would want to buy it due to the front windows' dark and awkward placement.

I felt nothing special to occupy my time after moving into this home, and the days passed with routine boredom. For example, every morning in the summer, I get up early and organise my room because the silence and isolation all around me affected my daily routine. Being surrounded by people you recognise who have passed on is dreadful. Knowing that the people you care about don't feel you is incredibly painful. Painful is that halted life, the torn threads of yesterday, those closed books and benches, this unfinished but deserted occupation, the calm of the hour is the calm of death, colour and cold are partners, even when there is nothing left to do but wait. On some air, domestic familiar

I once saw my father at the same time, still alive and in perfect health, as if nothing had happened. He was leaning on his hand and seated with his back to me next to the bed when I saw him in the open. I'm not sure if he was sleeping or depressed. I spoke to him after noticing that he was still, but he did not respond. Panicking, I put my hand on his shoulder as I thought, and then he vanished as if nothing had happened.

For all of the above reasons, and in a less straightforward and succinct manner, I discovered that early morning is the best time for ghosts to appear, and any house can be somewhat haunted. Since it may be more advantageous for me (early morning and in a haunted house) at that time, I considered wandering around the village. I ran into the home's owner at the door as I was leaving while my mind was focused with the reason I was leaving this residence. That's why I asked him to join me for breakfast. I brought up the home during breakfast, and without introducing myself, I questioned him:

-Is it possessed?

[johnsoncorp]

[♬] ;; SPICAPRA ;; [spee-cahp-rah]

a SPXIN gender related to horned dieties, dried herbs and flowers, smoke, candles, and pentagrams. (for robin)

five points, upside down

COLOUR MEANINGS ;; the greens are reminiscent of plants, the yellow/orange/red stripes of flames, and the warm greys of smoke.

[phosphatas]

Second Chances

A Sister Boniface Mysteries/Downton Abbey Crossover

1601 Words

1.

It was at the end of a tiring, stifling hot day when it first occurred. Detective Inspector Sam Gillespie looked over a few suspect files to find clues to a robbery that had happened a week earlier.

Suddenly, a sharp searing jolt of pain ran through his temples. It was so unexpected and painful that his vision blackened for a moment. When his sight returned, his surroundings were blurry and he was gasping for air.

There was a noise and he belatedly realised it was the creak of his office door. Constable Button peeked in and asked, “Inspector, is everything all right?”

He took a second to breathe in and out deeply.

“Yes, thank you, Constable, just a headache.”

She nodded, announced her leave and closed the door quietly.

He’d never had a headache that felt like a knife was thrust through his skull.

2.

“Alfie, it’s the police!” he called out. When no answer came, he opened the door quickly. Out of the window hung a makeshift rope, made out of bed sheets.

“Perhaps he went out for a walk.” Sister Boniface spoke up.

Mrs Clam disagreed. “Not out of the front door. I’d have seen him.”

As they all took in the scene, he noticed a pack of tobacco on the vanity.

He pointed it out. “For once, Sister, your services may be surplus to requirements.”

A jolt of recognition zipped through him.

He’d heard that phrase before,

in a deep, drawled voice,

in the servant’s hall of… where?

Where had he heard it?

The déjà-vu went as quickly as it came.

3.

As he and Felix turned to walk away from the house, the sound of sharp heels came closer. Mrs Kelly rounded the corner.

“Captain von Trapp,” she greeted warmly. He shot an apprehensive smile at her.

“Have you found our killer?”

“We are working on it, Mrs Kelly.”

“What a relief.” She took a packet of cigarettes out of her purse.

He felt inspired to ask her. ”I don't suppose your husband ever smokes Belgravia Milds, does he?”

“Anthony? No.” She scoffed. “Hurlinghams. Nothing else will do.”

He watched Mrs Kelly pull out a cigarette and light it. The sound of the lighter struck deep inside him. As he watched her pull on the cigarette and breathe out the smoke, he felt a tug behind his eyes, slowly forming into a familiar piercing headache. He suddenly thought of

a gloved hand

holding a silver lighter

smirking red lips wrapped around a cigarette

icy blue eyes staring at him, through the grey grey smoke

“Darn it!”

He was pulled out of remembrance with force, reeling. Mrs Kelly’s handbag had fallen on the ground.

Felix kneeled to pick it up and offered it to her.

“Thank you. What a gentleman.”

She stalked away with a sulking air, leaving a waft of smoke in her wake.

4.

He was exhausted. All his work on the Twinning Committee had resulted in a dead body and a failed union. And the constant reminders and reminiscing about the war had left him raw, open and turned inside out. The stabbing headaches were not helping.

The worst of it were the memories. He wasn’t only tormented by his traumatic experiences from twenty years ago, no. In addition to that, his mind dredged up images of

a work-roughened pale hand

wrapped in a white leather glove, blending in

and underneath it

a garishly grotesque scar

a hole ripped through the back of his hand

the other end on the palm

The only thing he felt was an achingly warm feeling of shared pain and deep deep love.

He closed his eyes and forced himself to sleep.

5.

He approached the slightly open door to Sister Boniface’s laboratory and pushed it so he could step into the room.

Sister Boniface was tinkering around with a few vials, the flame of the bunsen burner, as always, dangerously high. She didn’t look up when he came closer but acknowledged his presence with a slight incline of her head.

“Sister,” he began, trying to not let his nervousness show, “may I ask you a question?”

She hummed, an indication that she was listening.

“It’s not about science or forensics, but more… spiritual in nature.”

She set down her work and gave him her full attention. “Of course. How can I help you?”

“Well,” he started and realised he didn’t quite know how to find the words to express his issue, “for the past few months I’ve had these headaches, and every time I see something like a vision. They feel like memories, but I know I’ve never lived them.”

He paused for a second to gather his thoughts. Sister Boniface eyed him with concern.

“These memories, I know they’re mostly about the same person, but I can never see their face, only facial features and certain details. I can’t piece them together and I don’t recognise them.”

Sister Boniface remained silent. She knew he needed to talk and she let him.

“Do you think it’s possible to remember someone else’s life? To feel what they felt and to see what they see? I remember someone I have never seen before and I feel so complete and whole just at the sight of them. I don’t know what to think or feel, I am just so confused and exhausted…”

He drifted off, out of steam and words to express the overwhelming feelings of loss and pain.

“There are religions and schools of thought which believe in reincarnation and multiple chances in the mortal world,” she confirmed. “Though, to be frank, I doubt that’s the reason behind your visions. Sam, I’ve always thought that you are more sensitive than you show. Perhaps these cases in the last few months have taken a toll on you, especially all these reminders of the war. Maybe there is a sense of guilt still lingering inside of you. I admit I’ve had my fair share of that myself.”

He hung his head in defeat. It was true that he’d been stressed and under a lot of pressure. But there had been a sliver of hope that these visions meant something and weren’t just a result of his overworked mind. Hearing someone else giving a factual and logical explanation to the tricks his head was playing, exposed the underlying doubt that had been festering in the depths of his subconsciousness.

“Yes,” he whispered, “That must be it.”

6.

“Oh, this is interesting!” Ruth exclaimed. They were walking along the road, enjoying the mild weather. She held a newspaper open in her hands, one of numerous subscriptions to papers all over the United Kingdom, just to cover all bases. This one was the Yorkshire Evening Press.

They halted, so she could show him the article and read aloud.

“Earl of Grantham to donate 200 Pounds to Homosexual Law Reform Society”

His throat closed up. “Who?” His voice was croaky, shock glaringly obvious.

he knew that name,

where did he know it from,

who was he?

who….who…who?

Ruth glanced up at him and repeated the name. She continued reading.

“To honour the memory of his butler, Thomas Barrow, George Crawley, 8th Earl of Grantham made a generous and much discussed donation to the Homosexual Law Reform Society.

Grantham states, ‘Thomas Barrow was more than just a servant to me. He has been with my family for over fifty years and was a loyal and valuable friend to us all. We can never repay him for all his sacrifices, so I hope that this donation will return some of the debt I owe him.’

Lord Grantham plans to support Berkeley’s Bill and calls his fellow peers to action.

The obituary of Thomas Barrow can be found on page 5 of this issue.”

He ripped the paper out of her hands and quickly leafed through the pages. There it was.

His stomach was twisted in knots by the time he finished reading the obituary, his breathing laboured and shallow. His sight was blurred and he realised he was close to crying - he just didn’t know why.

“Did you know him?” Ruth asked softly, carefully.

That name

Thomas Barrow

bounced around in his head, nagging at him.

He lowered his head, tears flowing down his cheeks.

With a broken voice, he said, “I’m not sure.”

7.

He was up to his ears in paperwork, files and documents lying around on his desk, a mess for everyone else but organised chaos for him.

There was a knock at the door and Constable Button peered in and announced “There’s a man, looking for you. Shall I send him in?”

He hummed in affirmation, still focused on his work. She stepped back to reveal the stranger walking up to his office door.

When he looked up, his heart stopped, but started beating again, so quick and strong he could hear rather than feel it, blood rushing in his ears.

Sharp blue eyes stared back at him. They were framed by strong eyebrows and he recognised the distinct nose and defined angular face, finally connected, finally pieced together, red lips open in evident shock.

“Is it you?” the man asked, breathless, “Richard, are you really here?”

He stepped around his desk, tripping over the leg of his chair and almost falling down. Constable Button was still here but he didn’t care, he didn’t care, because he was finally here in front of him and he reached out to touch him and wrap himself around that warm solid body, something he didn’t know he’d longed for.

“Yes,” Richard said around the lump in his throat, “it’s me, Thomas, I’m here.”

[honklore]

is nothing sacred? | quackity

(4.6k+ word count, prince!alex, augur/seer!reader, gn!reader, angst, alex has a sucky dad, reader has a sucky family, karl appears as a time traveler ofc, neg and pos religious themes, deification is the belief that when a monarch dies they will become a god, the rapids is a kingdom in this but it isn’t an smp au)

listen to: evermore by taylor swift, foreigner’s god by hozier, (the end) by levi weaver, exile by taylor swift

There’s a warm spring just outside the monastery. It’s hidden in the mountain, a few miles away from the castle walls and yet you find that it’s too close for comfort.

Every bright and loud fanfare that announces the prince’s coming and leaving echoes off of the hills and pours through your peaceful respite. It’s just enough to make you grumpy.

It’s one of those mornings again, and you find yourself floating in the hot spring, eyes open towards the sun, wishing you had more patience with the dear prince you call your best friend.

Your robe is heavy across your torso, floating around your bare legs as you ponder your plans for today. That is, if the prince doesn’t come visit you.

That would be wishful thinking, though. You don’t have to close your eyes to know that someone has blocked the sun. With a sigh, you sink your body beneath the warm water and submerge, blinking the water off of your lashes. “Alex, this is sacred ground.”

“I know,” the prince replies, squatting down to see you. “I tied my boots around my neck, see?”

You stare at the boot he’s proudly holding up, then shift your eyes to his bare feet. “Why are you here? This is my day off.”

“Excuse me for wanting to see my best friend,” Alex sneers mockingly, rolling his eyes. “Listen, are you coming back to the castle tomorrow?”

“We literally have an augury lesson at one in the morning,” you say. “So, yes.”

“Good, I’m going to disprove all of your theories.”

“They aren’t theories, Alex. I read patterns for a living, alright? I know what I’m talking about.”

“It’s not science.”

“Neither is your father deifying your grandfather,” this time you mock him.

He holds a steady gaze, lips quirked into a cheeky smile. “You’ll tell me about the night of my coronation again, right?”

“Because it warned of extreme change,” you say, voice level. “Yet I can’t figure out what’s going to happen. There’s something the stars aren’t telling me, and I have to figure it out to protect you and the kingdom.”

Alex’s eyes are a deep brown that you could probably get lost in, if he wasn’t such a little shit. “Protect me, you say?” He’s flirting now, eyes alight with the thought of annoying you, and if this spring wasn’t so important to you, you would’ve yanked him in already. “Didn’t know you cared that much about me, Y/n.”

Your robes are clinging uncomfortably to your body, accentuating the lines and curves — or lack thereof. “Hand me my towel and look away please.”

Alex closes his eyes and turns his face away, holding out the towel. “Learn anything divine from your swimming trip?”

Alex holds the towel out like a makeshift screen, and averts his eyes while you dry off and change into the clean robe he brought you. As annoying as he is, the prince is thoughtful, and he fills in the places where you lack.

“I was reflecting,” you say, buttoning the front of the robe. “It’s good for you; clears out your soul.”

Alex tosses the towel over your head and ruffles your hair. He chuckles at your protests; taunts you with warmth in his eyes. “You’re so spiritual.”

You glare at him. “I’m an augur.”

“Right,” Alex says, holding the now-wet towel close to his chest. “But you take it so seriously, sometimes.”

“I hate you,” you say, no venom in your words.

“I love you, too,” Alex says. He leans forward, almost as if to kiss your forehead, and then remembers that you’re on sacred ground, and kissing is forbidden.

Still, the very thought of what he might’ve done sends an unwanted flutter throughout your chest.

Wax drips onto the closed letter. You dip the silver stamp into the dark purple puddle, leaving the royal seal behind.

Inside is a letter to your family. It’s a prophecy you’ve received just for them. Despite them disowning you for your gift, you still find it important to warn them of upcoming woe. Like now, for instance, when you wish to warn them about the upcoming rainstorm that could ruin their crops if they don’t take precautions.

You rub your temples and blow out the candle, leaving you in silent darkness.

Your room is on the highest tower of the castle. The turret is small; a circular room with a circular bed and a circular desk and a glass, circular ceiling that showcases the stars to you each night. There’s a telescope standing against the window, a chest for your clothes, and the writing desk you’re seated upon. However, your bathroom is a few stories down, near the bottom of the tower and closer to accessible plumbing.

The door behind you bursts open, and you know it’s the young prince and his lack of basic manners when it comes to privacy. Your privacy, anyway. “What is it, Alex?”

“I’ve been waiting for you in the tower for an hour now, silly,” Alex’s words get softer as the light from the corridor pours in, and he can see what you’ve been up to. He stills, smile faltering. “You had another vision of them.”

“I wish they would stop,” you mutter. If you clench your eyes tightly enough, you can will any tears to suck back into your head. Then you can suffer through a headache, like you always do. You’ve had this “gift” since you were a little kid; you know the ups and downs of using it.

Not that it gives you much choice sometimes.

“Are you drinking the–“

“No,” you snap at Alex. “Look, suppressing them only makes it worse. Prophecies become... darker. I see things I can’t unsee. I have to allow them through.”

Alex has a hurt look on his face, but you can’t tell if it’s because you snapped at him or because he doesn’t want to see you in pain. You selfishly hope it’s the latter.

“We can talk about something less harsh on the mind.” Alex sits on your chest, avoiding your bed. It’s another sacred place for you, same as the monastery grounds. Alex knows the rules of being a seer; the ancient laws you practice. He’s read the same books as you — if just to understand you better. He’s the most loyal friend you can think of: the only person in the entire kingdom who has never questioned your beliefs.

“I can’t stand the thought of them getting hurt,” you admit. “And with the vision about your coronation... I’m so scared this kingdom is going to crumble and it’s going to be because I couldn’t prevent it.”

Alex fiddles with his necklace. It’s a rune, one for protection. You used to wear a similar one beneath your robes, but with your fear of something happening, you’ve made Alex promise to wear it.

“It’s not your job to keep the kingdom from crumbling,” Alex relays. “All you need to do is tell me what you see. Then I hint to my father ways to change the kingdom. After that, it’s up to fate.”

You bite your lip. “Fate has a tricky way of playing its own hand.”

“Then it was never in your hands in the first place, yes?” Alex speaks honestly, but there’s a bit of cheek to his voice that eases your nerves.

You smile sadly. “Your father is too prideful, Alex. I can see it; the ravens, they flock the castle whenever he makes a speech. He wants to become a god. He wants something that’s impossible.”

“He deified Grandfather,” Alex quips, no emotion backing his voice. “Like you said earlier. It’s just to start the tradition, so that when he dies he’ll become holy, too.”

“I told him it was wrong. I told him that the stars foresee ruin if he stays on this trail of pride.” You cast your eyes down to your family’s letter. “No one believes me.”

“I believe you,” Alex’s soft voice urges you to look at him.

He’s quiet. The rune is resting on his outstretched palm and he’s looking at you. “Do you think I’d take these lessons and wear these trinkets if I thought you were wrong?”

“Maybe you do it because we’re friends,” you say. You're well aware of the fact that the prince is the only person in the entire kingdom who advocates for your beliefs. But with the rest of the realm against you, you can't help but think that deep down, he's making fun of you, too.

"You sure do worry a lot for someone who can foresee the future."

You choke out a laugh and run your hands down your face. "I'm sorry, Alex. I'm so sorry. I just– I feel like if I can't prevent every bad thing I predict, then it's my fault when they happen. I wish I was ignorant to omens."

Alex tuts. He pouts at you, dragging his lower lip between his teeth and holding it there for just a beat too long. “Let’s skip lessons today. You should rest.”

“Alex—“

“Ah!” Alex stands up. He begins to unclip his cufflinks from the hem of his sleeve before he passes you a coy glance. “That’s Prince Alexis to you, and if I say you should rest, then you should rest.”

You grumble, but inwardly you’re thankful.

There’s an altar, rectified in the middle of the castle courtyard. Though it was once a place of healing — a place seers would go to cleanse their minds — it is now standing in ruins.

You lay down your offerings anyway. Dried rose petals, and a few copper coins saved up. You wait with the objects until a few crows come to diligently take them away. To where? You don’t know. You’ve never asked.

Alex’s father plans to take down the altar and replace it with a shrine of himself. The knowledge of change reeks the air with a foul scent only you can smell.

It’s as if the entire kingdom is rotting and you’re the only one who knows.

You lift your hood off of your face and continue your walk throughout the court. Those you pass politely ignore you, though some choose to sneer at your mannerisms. The king has them wrapped in his prideful rule, and your heart aches for them.

There is no freedom in serving man. This much, you know.

You find yourself in the tower, waiting for the prince to come in time for his lessons.

“Father says he wants me to study more practical subjects,” Alex relates to you.

He’s lying across the balcony floor, and you are perpendicular, with your head on his stomach. You feel every breath he takes, and something about the closeness comforts you in a way you refuse to analyze.

“I’m not sure what else you could learn,” you say. Your eyes are stuck on a chip in the balcony railing. Stone that hardly cracks, and of course your foundation is crumbling quicker than your resolve. “You have lessons from dawn till dusk.”

“And you’re the only tutor I care for,” he says with a flippant sort of tone. “I don’t know what I’d do if I saw you less. I already wish I had more time with you.”

You’ve spoken to nuns and monks and those who swear off love in servitude to the one they worship. Most admit that it’s a lonely existence, and a torture to make up for their sins. You understand that true love must be as sacred as an old god, and to worship another person would be the greatest act of devotion. For how else do you serve a creator than by worshiping the created?

You don’t think kings are meant to be worshipped. No one with that much power should be revered with such ignorance.

But a prince is different. To worship a prince alone, in secret, for just yourself... perhaps that is the most spiritual devotion of all. Perhaps it is the most torturous.

Hearing Alex’s words makes your heart yearn for a future that can never be. You don’t need a vision to tell you that his father will soon grow tired of you. Of course you will soon be sent out of the kingdom, and Alex will forget about you in time.

You know this without a doubt in your heart, and yet Alex still clings to these moments with you.

You’d do anything to keep him safe.

“Where will I go?” You ask. “Where will I be accepted?”

Alex’s breath hitches; you feel it. And you know what he wants to say — you know what lingers at the tip of his tongue.

With me.

Your family sends back the letter, unopened. You try not to cry about it, but the truth is that you feel more alone than ever. Surely you are the last of your kind, and no one cares in the least about what you have to say.

Except maybe Alex. Lovely, beautiful Alexis. He could no sooner harm a butterfly’s wing than deny you your beliefs.

But Alex is not king. He is merely a prince, and the king does not like you. It’s a miracle you’ve lasted this long.

“You fill my son’s head with nonsense,” the king paces back and forth in front of his empty thrown.

You hide your hands in the sleeves of your robe. “Your Majesty, I only relay what I see. I fear your kingdom is in danger.”

“And you think it my fault? Tell me, what if the stars told me to deify my father? What if I am following my own visions?” The royal cackles. “You have no sensible argument. All you have are silly dreams and lies to propel your own agenda. I will not have you spoiling my son’s brain.”

“Your Majesty—“

“I forbid you to speak on anything of the sort from hence forth. The altar will be torn down, and any peep from you regarding these readings will result in instant banishment.”

The sentence hurts more than it should, considering you aren’t being willed to die. You’re quite lucky in this sentence, considering you can still see Alex. Though, a part of you cracks and splinters to think of suppressing your visions.

The vision of Alex’s coronation still remains. You fear for the prince’s life. You fear the king will have something to do with it.

How do you tell the boy you adore that his father may be his downfall?

How do you get him to believe you?

The warm spring only gets hotter as the seasons change. You sink your head under, and the heat of the water burns your closed eyelids. Your head is killing you; pounding from holding back your emotions: your tears.

The monks don’t even worship the same as you. They lend you their springs and advice, but they aren’t the same. There are no other augurs in The Rapids, so no one else really knows how taxing the job is.

More visions come to you when you’re stressed, so you try your hardest to calm yourself. The water scalds your skin, but it distracts your mind enough to keep the visions away.

It’s all the same. All the visions are the same — Alex gets crowned king and overturns the deifying decree. And only days later, he’s assassinated, and the regent — his father — takes back the throne.

As the old proverb goes: pride cometh before a fall, and the king certainly has enough pride. You just don’t want Alex to get caught in the fall.

“You’re so predictable.” Alex’s voice is warbled.

It takes a minute for the water to release from your ears.

Surfaced, you can see Alex crouched by the bank, careful not to fall in. He’s got that same gentle smile — thin, rouge lips and eyes that seem to shine when they look at you. Alex never judges. He never makes fun of your methods. He’s simply there for you, and your heart longs to be there for him as well.

“This place is sacred,” you blurt. Seeing Alex’s face in the light of the sunset just makes you think of your visions. What would a world without Alex even look like? You aren’t sure you want to find out.

You start to cry, and Alex holds a hand out silently.

He helps you out — holds out the robe for you. His boots are around his neck, and you focus on the thinness of his ankles while you clothe yourself.

“You can’t hold me.” You say plainly.

“I know,” Alex’s voice is watery. “Let’s get you back to the palace, yeah?”

“Yeah,” you sniff. “Okay.”

“I’m not dead.” Alex lightly scratches your arm. Up and down. Up and down. “I’m not going to die.”

Your shoulders are braced against his side. You keep your gaze on the white smoke rising off of his incense cone.

This is his room, and his bed, because those aren’t sacred. His bed can be slept in and snuggled in and kissed in and loved in. He has scratchy cotton sheets and incense that is too old to really smell like anything.

He’s a prince with messy documents surrounding his desk and curtains that haven’t been dusted in days. Some days you wonder if the entire castle has forgotten about him. You don’t want to bring it up — don’t want to ask — but it flummoxes you.

You reach for his hand and stop its motions. “I’m sorry I bring you into all of this.”

“I want you to bring me into everything,” Alex slurs. He’s staying awake for you, and you know it. He rests his temple against your head. “I don’t want you to keep anything from me.”

You hum. His body is warm against yours. Too warm, to the extent where you know you’ll wake up in the uncomfortable sort of sweat that comes when a child falls asleep on you, or when you fall asleep without the window open.

Something heavy squeezes your chest. It feels like your ribcage is sentient — hugging and pressing into your lungs until it’s nearly impossible to breathe without an uncomfortable stutter.

Alex falls asleep quick, so you don’t worry about him noticing.

You settle against him and breathe through your nose. The feeling will pass — it always does. You feel this way whenever Alex reveals something so vulnerable to you. You reckon it’s something to do with the tenderness of his voice, or the earnest squeeze of his hand.

There’s a need to protect him. You want to be there for him, more than anything else in the world.

Stripped of your job — the altar torn down — you resort back to your first and foremost activity: Alex’s best friend and (unofficial) advisor.

In this position, you’re confident in your abilities. You know just as well as anyone that you’d rather die than see the prince harmed in any way.

You’re kicked out of the tower, and your telescopes are left to dust. The king locks the door personally, ardent in his attempt to keep you away from any visions that might harm his reign.

You stay in Alex’s room, on a spare bed mat near the fireplace.

Of course, Alex has offered his bed, but you refuse to bother him any more than you have to. And now, with your rituals forbidden, you need a place to privately gather your thoughts.

The flames lick the stone furnace and you lie still. You watch them dance and close your eyes, hoping to rest without any visions or nightmares.

But the nightmares come, and they’re always the same.

When you wake in a fervent sweat, you know that only one thing will keep you from fearing Alex’s death. So, you crawl beneath his scratchy sheets.

You don’t snuggle into him or bother his slumber. All you need to do is know that he’s here. You rest your smallest finger against his bare arm and fall asleep to the sound of an owl hooting outside the window.

On the morning of Alex’s coronation, fog rises from the earth. You see it as a sign: this day will be confusing and blurred.

Alex is just excited to have cooler weather. The blistering heat has been plaguing the kingdom for days, so to have a day of fog and hollow wind sounds like heaven to the prince.

You wear your runes beneath your robe, and the weight of them is less than the weight of knowing you’re dead if you’re caught. But you need them; need this day to come and go without blood and tears.

Alex cannot see you. He’s far too busy with final rehearsals and receiving guests from far and wide.

You stray beyond the castle, into the square, where traders and travelers have set up shop in the hopes of making a profit.

There’s a sign. Fortunes Read Here. It’s tacked over a purple curtain, and you can see amber light shining through a thin slit. Like maybe someone is in there. Like maybe you aren’t alone.

You walk in.

Disappointment smacks against your ribs like a heavy wave against jagged rocks. It’s a scam. A boy no younger than yourself is sitting behind a table, with a green sash tied over his forehead. There’s a mystical rune of some kind that looks like a portal, and it’s tacked to nearly every surface you can see with dripping green paint. The place looks like that of a madman, and you fear you’re about to be mocked.

“Hello,” he says. He doesn’t offer a name. The blues of his eyes flicker from time to time with a shimmery purple, and you think it’s a trick of the light.

“Are you going to laugh at me?” You sit across from him. “Once I leave, are you going to think of me as just another gullible customer?”

“Can you not tell the future?” He says, and he grabs the crystal ball and tucks it under the table. “I can sense it. You want answers, genuine answers, not some promise of success.”

“Who are you?”

“Karl,” he says. “I’m from the village of The Rapids, but you know, magic is looked down upon. I doubt anyone would believe me if I told them what I know.”

You trace the lines of the rune. Your brain fogs, but as you repeat the motion, it clears up, and you suddenly see Karl, clear as day, standing in a crowd and watching Alex make a speech. “You’ve been there? You’ve been to the future?”

“Look closer,” Karl mumbles.

So you focus on the details, and you can see the black banners of mourning, and the redness of Alex’s eyes. “Oh. This is his grandfather’s funeral. This is the year before I became Alex’s tutor.”

“Walk closer.”

Unsure what he means, you continue to trace the rune, and imagine yourself walking through the crowd. Only Karl moves instead, so you pause your tracing and look at Karl.

He’s got his eyes closed, and his eyebrows furrowed. “Why did you come here? What did you want to see?”

You brought me here, you think of saying, but you wonder if this is what Karl can do. If he can travel to the past and show people what he sees. “I- I suppose I want to know why he was deified. Was it a plot?”

You trace the rune again, and Karl walks over to the king, where he stands apart from the podium. Even though his son is giving a heartfelt speech, he’s not listening at all. Instead, he’s talking to one of his trusted advisors.

“I will make a wonderful god.”

“Prince Alexis hates the new creed,” the advisor observes. “Surely he’ll overrule it once he is king.”

“Yes,” the king says. “Well, I suppose we’ll just have to make sure that doesn’t happen.”

You gasp, and even Karl seems winded as you stop tracing the rune.

He places his palms on the table. “So that’s what you wanted to find out. A regicide plot.”

“I have to find Alex,” you mutter. You stand and rip one of your runes off of your neck. Intuition. “Here, take it. You should go.”

“I can’t go into the future,” Karl warns. “I don’t know what’s going to happen.”

“No,” you think of Alex’s words. “None of us can predict fate. I have to go.”

You run out of the tent, and when you look back, it’s gone, left with nothing but a dirty sign labeled Fortunes Read Here.

Perhaps it’s past tense now.

Your purple robe billows behind you as you rush into the castle in search of the prince.

The staff says they haven’t seen him, the lords are already drunk off of mulled wine. His own tailors are running around, fearing they won’t be able to dress him in time.

So he’s gone, and that means you’re too late.

Or rather, maybe Alex is smarter than you give him credit for, and he’s gone to the one place his father won’t go.

You head up to the tower.

He’s there. Of course he’s there. And he’s in only part of his ceremonial clothes, leather pants and a cream-white collared shirt. He’s leaning his palms against the stone railing and staring out against the wind, like he’s waiting for it to speak to him. Tears slip down his cheeks and drop into the air.

“Alex…” You wrap your arms around his soft waist, squeezing tight to try and convey how thankful you are that he knew to get away. “Your father… He’s—”

“He poisoned my breakfast,” Alex whimpers. He grabs blindly for your arms, and at the touch of your skin, he folds in on himself; shifts around to face you, and buries his face into your neck. “My taster… He thought my taster was out. But he wasn’t. Now he’s dead, and the counsel are trying to figure out what to do with my father.”

“Alex, I’m so sorry.”

He cries harder, and you think your hug must feel weak compared to the comfort he so clearly needs right now. “I have to go tell the lords and the staff. We have to postpone the coronation until everyone involved is apprehended.”

You think of what he does when you feel alone. He visits your spring, and he takes off his shoes. He takes you to his bed and scratches your arm. He kisses your head and hums old lullabies from his childhood until you fall asleep.

So you grab his hand, and you pull him down the few stairs where your old bedroom lies. And you bring him toward your bed, but he stops you.

“It’s sacred to you,” he hiccups.

“You’re sacred to me,” you finally decide, and you let him crawl under your sheets.

You untie his boots and pull them off of his feet, along with his socks. Then you take the blanket and pull it up to his chin. You kiss his forehead and crawl in next to him. And you scratch his arm, up and down, and you hum old lullabies from your own childhood until he falls asleep.

While he’s asleep, you trace the moles across his cheeks and close your eyes. Suddenly, it’s like Karl’s tent, only you can see into the future, not the past. And you aren’t Karl, you’re Y/n.

The sun is bright on Alex’s back, skin tanned and warm. You’re swimming with him in the spring, and all that is sacred to you is him. All that matters is him, so he can float in the spring, and he can kiss you on holy ground, and if he can’t be deified in the kingdom, he can be deified in your soul.

And when you stop your motions, you’re back in your bed. Alex is there, sweet Alex, snoring softly and snuggling into your warmth, like you keep him safe. Like your visions aren’t the ones he believed in at all.

He has always believed solely in you.

[themfchase]

endings & beginnings | jjk (m)

Jeon Jungkook x Reader

‒ ending and beginnings. (m) one-shot. ✎  [14k words]

genre: supernatural!au, childhood friends!au.

warnings: smut, oral (f receiving), slight dirty talk, slight choking, (jk has a massive dong), an absurd amount of scoffing and eye rolling, lowkey pining, angst, hhh angst again, mentions of blood, mentions of car accident, mentions of death and grief. physics or spiritual physics mean nothing here, don’t judge me.  After the sad passing of your grandmother, you take on the task to pack up her things so you can sell the house, but you’re interrupted by someone you haven’t seen in years, and oh, he’s hurt.  N/A: This is based on a movie plot, but I don’t wanna say the movie because I don’t want to give it away, but, I decided to write a little supernatural type au for the spooky season, and of course, I’m a lover of angst, so, I’m giving you all this. I really hope you like it, and if you do, please remember to press that heart and reblog button! It helps a lot. And please, never hesitate to send me messages! I really love receiving them!

Death.  It was truly a mysterious thing. The concept of death. Humans gave it a meaning, as if life was only but a preparation for what was to come in the afterlife. Heaven, Hell, Oblivion. It didn’t really matter to you. And no matter how many years you spent in Sunday school, learning about sin and how it was a currency that either allowed you to enter the peaceful realms of the afterlife or the eternal suffering of the underworld, it still meant nothing to you. But still, you prayed for forgiveness as a child, your grandmother right there beside you clutching her rosemary tightly in her fists with screwed shut eyes and mumbling apologies in hopes for redemption.  You wonder if she found what she was looking for, and it was almost a bittersweet thought as you looked down at her lifeless body, neatly resting in the casket. She looked peaceful, at least. Maybe that meant something. And even if death for some reason meant nothing to you, you still couldn’t hold back the quiet tears that rolled down your cheeks. This woman raised you. She raised you into the strong woman you were today. With your own business, no longer struggling to put food on the table, but now able to send her money every week, to give her the life she deserved. Because she was one hell of a woman, that you can say, from the years she raised you. Resilient, strong, and all by herself when your parents suffered a terrible fate in a car accident when you were only a toddler. Come to think of it, you were quite familiar with death. It had visited you one too many times.  Maybe that was why you didn’t care for it. For what was to come, because, in the end, death would be everyone’s end. And some may say it’s a sad life, to not really think there is anything at all once you die. That your brain simply shuts and then there is a lot of nothing.  No, you weren’t skeptical; you believed in... Something. Science, nature perhaps. You believed that it didn’t matter if our subconscious continued to echo through the air giving us a fake sense of the afterlife or if in fact; we were reborn in another life. Because death was death. And for you, and everyone else, it was inevitable. Just as inevitable as having to come back to this town, back down to the old farmhouse where you were raised, three hours from the city you lived in, to clean out your grandmother’s things. Ever since she was sent to the hospital, a buyer was interested in the large land, offering a good price on it once she passed. And people called you cold, that you’d even negotiate with a man while your grandmother was in her deathbed, but the reality was that you hadn’t been to this town in almost ten years, and you and the doctors knew she wasn’t going to make it.  You loved her, you truly did. You were grateful for everything she had done for you. But what were you supposed to do? Keep the house there, gathering dust while you went back to your penthouse in a busy city and forgot about it altogether? No, that wouldn’t be fair to your grandmother. If you weren’t going to take care of the house, you could at least put it to good use. And you thought about maybe renovating it, putting it on Airbnb for some backpackers that would eventually stop by the town. You were still pondering on that idea even while you drove into the driveway, coming from the small meek motel just three blocks from the funeral home where everyone mourned the town’s loss. And even looking at it as you parked, one single bagel from Cindy’s Diner hanging in your mouth and a cup of Iced coffee you had to explain to Cindy’s daughter how to make, it looked... Exactly as it did ten years ago when you left. Three floors, with hard oak walls and, resin painted wood on the outside, vines that crept upwards midway past the second floor, but never too close to the windows, a vast wooden front porch with two swings on each side of the door and the large tainted glass windows from the living room and kitchen, reminding you of the same ones you saw in Sunday school. It was almost a smaller wooden castle, too many bedrooms for just the two of you as you grew up, but enough that you became really good at hide and seek. It was still the same, and you sighed.  You had some amazing memories here, that was true. Bonfires with your grandmother as she told you scary stories, your neighbors coming down to play with the hose when it was really hot. You even remembered trying to build a treehouse with your grandma, but you never finished because rain season started. And the sky looked just like it looked right now, dark rumbling clouds closing in, nothing but the vast field behind the house and the faraway mountains on the horizon. Before the thick raindrops began its descent you rushed out of the car, chewing on the piece of bagel as you rushed to the back seat to grab your bags, deciding to leave the unfolded cardboard boxes there and maybe get them later once the rain calmed down. Rushing up the driveway with your large bag of clothes in your hand, the rain began to pour just a few feet away from the porch, and you let out a little shriek at the cold drops hitting your skin, making you run a little faster.  Finally, under the protection of the front porch, you dug into your pockets for the keys, rummaging through both front pockets and the single pack pocket. You were sure they were there, and you huffed in annoyance, a little wet already as you put two and two together and remembered the iced coffee in your cupholder and the keys right beside it. You grunted, throwing your head back and gazing towards your black car. The rain was pouring down hard and from what you remembered, chances were it wouldn’t stop soon, so placing your bag right beside the door you took in a deep breath and ran for your car as raindrops soaked right through your clothes. Opening the car door and quickly reaching for the keys, you made your way back to the porch now dripping wet from the unforgiving rain that had started. Finally opening the thick wooden door, it screeched open, showing that it hadn't been used in the six months that your grandmother made the hospital her permanent home. You shoved your bag in with your feet before finally closing the door behind you.  It was quiet. Well, other than the harsh rain that hit against the windows and wood, the house was dark and quiet, a little gruesome too. You rested your back against the door, head falling back as you took in a deep breath. You opened your eyes and let them roam through the house, the open kitchen, and the large living room. No television. Quickly taking out your phone, you huffed once again, no service either. You were thankful that you left your catering business in good hands with Jimin, your partner, back in town, so even without service, you knew there was really no good reason for him to reach out other than to chat.  Finally, pulling away from the door, you flick on the lights, the old yellow lamps flickering before it illuminated the space, and it suddenly felt normal again, just like it did when you were a kid. It almost felt like home. Sighing, you picked up your bag and placed it right beside the couch, walking towards the laundry room to retrieve a dry and clean towel you knew your grandmother always had in case she had any visitors and you began to dry your hair already walking back to the living room to open your bag for a fresh pair of clothes to change into. Maybe you’d take a shower before you made something to eat. The sun would be setting soon anyway, so there was really no point in starting to pack anything today and the rain really didn’t seem like it would stop anytime soon. If you remembered correctly, sometimes it rained like this for days on end, the roads rather dangerous, some even closing down. You remembered how on days like these, school was canceled, and you could stay home and play all day, have tea parties, bake and cook with your grandma. You smiled fondly at the memory as you found a white shirt and some sweat pants from your bag, and just as you were standing up to strip from your wet clothes, three loud knocks to the door startled you. With your heart now beating in your throat and a hand lifted to your chest, you looked at the door.  Who could it be?  Eyes moving to the clock just above the kitchen sink, it read seven pm. When did time pass so fast? You had just―  Three more loud knocks.  Blinking at the door, you finally decided to walk towards it, not even thinking before you unlocked and opened.  In reality, the town had always been safe, and maybe it was your big city fears creeping up on you but the sight of a wet man with his head down and hands resting on each side of the door had you startled, eyes bulging slightly as you couldn’t make out his face in the dark, your hand blindly reached out to the light switch beside the door, the one that turned on the porch lights and you flicked it on, the man lifting his face to you. Oh. He seemed familiar, and he was young, about your age. Black, wet shirt hugging his strong and muscular frame tightly, making your eyes move to the bulge of his biceps and veins that dripped with water, then your eyes moved to his strong shoulders and up to his thick neck before landing on his defined jaw that also dripped with water and blood― Wait, blood! “Oh my god, are you ok?!” You asked, one hand coming to cover your mouth in your loud surprised reaction as you noticed he had a small cut right above his thick eyebrow. He smiled, well, smirked almost as he let out an airy chuckle. And oof, if that wasn’t the most charming smile you have ever seen, despite the blood dripping down the side of his face.  “I, well― I need some help, is your grandmother home?” He asked looking into the house, now standing fully, towering over you.  The mention of your grandmother had your mouth closing. Who was this guy and how did he know who lived here? And well, if he did, it was unfortunate that he didn’t know that she had passed the day before.  “I’m sorry, who are you?” You asked, and even if you tried not to sound condescending, you did, and he lifted the brow that wasn’t hurt.  “You seriously don’t recognize me, Y/N?” He asked and crossed his strong arms over his chest. He knew your name, and yeah, he did look familiar, but he seemed to remember you a lot better than you remembered him.  At your silence, he chuckled again.  “Jungkook.” He said, and the name had memories rushing back like a tidal wave. “We used to make mud pies together, I’m offended that you don’t remember, you ate them with vigor.” He joked, and you laughed, pursing your lips right after.  “Shit, I’m sorry, you look so...” Hot. “Different.” He smiled wide, now letting his hands down, moving into his front pockets. “So do you, it’s been what... Fifteen? Sixteen years?” He asked, and you nodded, crossed your arms, and resting your shoulder on the door frame.  In a perfect world, you would be able to gawk at his wet body without being caught, but in this world. He tilts his head to the side and flicks his tongue out once he notices your eyes roaming, giving you a quick once over himself.  “So uh... Is your grandmother home, I lost control of my car down on the secluded road somewhere...” He trailed off as if unable to remember exactly where. “...and it won’t start back up. I cut my eyebrow, I was wondering if she could take a look at it for me.” He took you out of your thoughts and you blinked a few times, leaning away from the door frame.  “Oh... My grandma... passed away yesterday.” Your voice was a lot lower than you expected and Jungkook’s eyes bulged slightly, lips parting as if he wanted to say something but he didn’t know what to say. “I uh, I’m here to pack her things.” You nibbled on your lower lip, nodding before you cleared your throat. “Would you like to come in, though? I can take a look at it for you.” You made way, and he just nodded, coming inside.  Closing the door behind you, you watched Jungkook take a few steps inside, his back to you as his eyes roamed the house. Memories of his own coming to play.  “You can take a seat at the kitchen table, I’ll get the first aid kit.” You said making your way to the cabinet under the kitchen sink.  You could barely hear him move, but once you grabbed the small white box, he was there seated quietly, looking at you.  How could you forget Jungkook, anyway? You spent most of your childhood with him, playing in the backyard, sometimes going to his house for sleepovers, even if it was far from the farmhouse. You both were inseparable before his parents divorced and his mother moved to the city, taking him along with her, and you never saw him again. Not until now.  As you took out the gauze, antiseptic, and some surgical tape you watched him look almost uncomfortable, looking around the empty house before looking at you.  You knew what he wanted to say, he had that look in his eyes, the “shit, you lost someone and I’m really uncomfortable because I have no idea what that’s like, but I still want to show you some sympathy” look, and you took in a deep breath.  “You don’t have to say it, you know, I heard it at least fifty times yesterday.” You spoke softly as you took one cotton ball and swiped gently at the cut.  “Say what?” He asked, looking up at you, not even flinching as you cleaned his wound.  “You know... I’m sorry for your loss and stuff.” You shrugged, taking another cotton ball and soaking it in antiseptic.  “Oh...” He said, one hand coming up to rub at the back of his neck. “I am though... I loved your grandmother.” He sighed, and you smiled softly, looking at a now clean wound. It didn’t look deep, but you were no expert. It did seem as if he had bled a lot, so you decided to wrap it before it started to bleed again. “Well, thanks, everyone loved my grandma, she was amazing.” You said softly as you began to tape the gauze to his cut, never once did he complain of pain. With the close proximity and the uncomfortable silence, you cleared your throat. “So... Did you move back here?” You asked, and he shook his head.  “No... My father is getting too old to come down to the city now and then, so I decided to come here for a change, I’m only in town for a little while.” He answered, looking out the kitchen window to the rain still pouring out.  “How is life here, anyway? I haven’t been here since forever.” He shook his head as you slowly ― tried to ― tape the gauze in place.  “I wouldn’t know, haven’t been here for the last ten years. Left for college at 17, didn’t come back.” You shrugged, reaching for another piece of tape before leaning back into him.  “Where did you go?” He asked, and you leaned back, blinking at his question.  “Oh, you mean for school? McKenzie Brown.” You said and his eyes bulged.  “No fucking way. So did I! How did we not cross each other on campus?” He seemed excited, and it just showed his boyish ways, a contrast to the very manly muscles on his body and that smirk he had given you earlier. Chuckling, you were also surprised that you had both gone to the same college, but yet, never crossed paths. It wasn’t really that hard to believe, given the university you were accepted to was very, very big, with a lot of students and up to 100 per class.  “Guess life didn’t want us to.” You shrugged, and he shook his head.  “Fucking coincidence. I was kinda famous back in school.” He said, looking down at his lap and you lifted a brow, making him look up at you and chuckle. “All I’m saying is that I had some fun, had a reputation.” Your smile widened, and you squinted your eyes, even if you both haven’t seen each other in sixteen years, somehow it didn’t really feel like you were strangers.  “Are you telling me, that Jeon Jungkook, the cute, bunny teeth kid that made me mud pies and held my hand when we crossed the street, was a fuckboy?” You laughed as you finally finished wrapping him up. His mouth opened almost to protest, but instead of that, he shrugged, and a smirk spread on his lips.  “Who said anything about was?” A loud scoff left your lips as you rolled your eyes at him. Truly, it was hot. He was hot, that was undeniable. But to imagine this man that was here in your kitchen as a fuckboy was truly something you weren’t ready to let your mind wander off. Wonder off to how many people he’s slept with, how much experience he must have. You cleared your throat.  “All done.” Was all you said as you got up.  With his clothes still wet and yours too, you threw the soiled cotton balls away and directed him to the bathroom where he could wash the blood that had dripped down his face.  Once he made his way back, you stood by the door with the pair of fresh clothes in your hands, ready to bid him goodbye, but instead, he walked mid way and sat on the handrest of the couch.  “You said you were packing her things, why?” He crossed his arms again, your eyes shot to his very wet clothes against the couch and you blinked at his question.  “I’m selling the house.” You said and started making your way towards the door, still hearing the rain rumble aggressively outside.  “Wait, what? You can’t sell the house!” He stood up, a look of outrage in his eyes. You turned around and looked back at him with an incredulous look on your face.  “Excuse me?” You questioned, blinking in disbelief.  “You can’t sell the house! This house has... Has a shit ton of memories and it’s a place where you can raise your kids! You’re just going to sell it to some stranger who’s probably going to turn it into another cellphone tower?” He sounded annoyed, irritated even.  “This is my house, and if I want to sell it to someone who wants to turn it into a fucking strip club or whatever, I will.” You crossed your arms, and he furrowed his brows. Truly, you wouldn’t, not that you had anything against strip clubs, but you wouldn’t want your grandmother’s holy name to go to dust in a conservative town like this. “And if anything, this town could use a freaking cellphone tower, since there is no service here!” You shrugged as if it was obvious.  “Wow, didn’t take you for a heartless bitch.” Now that was the last straw. It was almost as if the funny, charming Jungkook from before had vanished in a blink of an eye and all you could see right now was a condescending, nosy ― but hot ― stranger making demands and offending you.  “Get out.” You said calmly, crossing your arms. Jungkook gave you a pointed look, a scoff leaving him.  “You’re going to kick me out in this rain?” He raised a brow.  “Well, you somehow made your way here in this rain, I’m sure you can make your way back.” Maybe you were a heartless bitch. And your ex-boyfriends might agree, but the truth was, you didn’t like anyone making decisions for you, if anything, you didn’t like men making decisions for you.  “Oh, don’t worry your spoiled little ass, I’ll leave in a second, just gotta remember where...” He began walking towards the door and stopped midway, his voice slurring. He stumbled a little, one hand moving up to the wrapped cut. “Remember where my... my car...” He shook his head, as if unable to see straight, and even if you were irritated, your mind and body quickly went into action, walking towards him to keep him steady.  “Jungkook?” You called softly, and he leaned against your hand, unfocused eyes looking for you.  He didn’t look good, the once white gauze now with a bright red spot where the blood seeped through.  “Hey, why don’t you sit down a little, you might have hit your head a little harder than you thought.” You continue to speak softly, slowly maneuvering him towards the couch. You sat him down with a thud, a huff leaving him as his head lolled in his hand. From the few medical documentaries you’ve watched in the past, you knew that if he had a concussion, sleeping right now wasn’t the best idea.  “I’m going to get you some dry clothes and make us some coffee, I think you better stay here tonight.” You look out the window, he surely wouldn’t have made it back to his car.  A minute ago you were ready to kick him out into the rain because of your irritation, now you would have regretted it if anything had happened to him, had you done so. Sighing, you quickly made your way to your grandmother’s closet where she still kept a few of your father’s clothes and you took a large shirt and some sweats, just like your own.  Making your way back down, Jungkook still sat there with his head between his hands. He looked up at you once you made your way to him and reached out for the clothes.  “Feeling a little better?” You asked, pursing your lips.  “Yeah, just... Dizzy.” He admitted, not looking at you. “I’m... Sorry. I’m sorry. That was way out of line.” He blurted out, looking up at you as he took in a deep breath.  You pondered on it for a few seconds, you both were friends once, even if you were children, he wasn’t a complete stranger and that meant that you still nurtured some type of fondness over him ― and no, it wasn’t only because he glowed up. “We’re cool. Just don’t call me a bitch again, or a brat, otherwise, I’ll probably give you another concussion” That made him chuckle, and you laughed back. “Anyway, get dressed, we’re going to end up sick if we stay in these clothes.” Jungkook nodded, immediately reaching for the hem of his shirt and pulling it over his head, and you didn’t have time to turn around before his bare torso ― and abs― came into view.  Oh, he was truly a sight to see, wet locks falling down his face, damp, glowing skin in the dim yellow lights of the house, ripples of his abs and thin waist so well defined, if your mouth wasn’t agape before, it was now and you caught yourself, turning around to give him some privacy.  “Please, as if I didn’t catch you checking me out at the door.” He scoffed, you couldn’t see him, only hear the sound of ruffling clothes.  “I wasn’t checking you out!” You defended yourself, not looking at him and not sounding convincing at all.  “You were totally checking me out, I was checking you out too.” Yeah, you were checking him out, but him checking you out? That was new information.  Not that you weren’t worthy of being checked out, in fact, you were very confident in yourself, not because of your looks, but because you knew that success was written all over your face and that was enough reason for men to find you attractive.  “Figures.” You smirked, arms crossing over your chest.  Jungkook rolled his eyes, even though you couldn’t see it and you could hear him standing up, probably changing out of his wet pants.  You waited patiently, very tempted to peek, see what he was hiding behind those pants. You had noticed how firm and thick his thighs looked in those dark, wet pants.  “You can turn around now.” He informed, and you quickly turned, seeing him in the cozy clothes you had picked out. It wasn’t that you remembered because you didn’t, but seeing Jungkook in your father’s clothes made it all very... Domestic. You quickly swallowed as you looked him down and grinned.  “Ok, I’m... I’m going to go change and make us some coffee, don’t fall asleep.” You informed, and he sat back down, folding his wet clothes.  You were glad that there was at least coffee in the pantry, because food? Other than some crackers and powdered eggs, none of that. You made a mental note to go get some tomorrow if you were meant to spend the week here.  You picked up the two mugs and made your way to the living room where Jungkook sat quietly, looking around. Handing him his mug, he took it with a quiet “thank you” before you sat on the armchair right in front of him.  It was awkward now. Both of you quiet as you sipped on the hot coffee in your now dry clothes and looked around, it was uncomfortably quiet until― “I can’t believe you’re selling this house.” He shook his head and you rolled your eyes.  “Well, what do you expect me to do? It’s not like I live here, I haven’t lived here in ten years!” Jungkook sat closer to the edge of the couch.  “Maybe not now, but what about in, like, a couple of years when you get married and have kids, wouldn’t you want to settle down in a peaceful place like this?” He stated as if it was obvious.  “What makes you think I want kids? What makes you think I even want to get married?” You gave him a pointed look. And he was quiet, thinking for a while.  “Well, I assumed you were the type...” His voice was more hesitant.  “You assume a lot of things about me, apparently. Besides, if you’re so into the whole traditional family thing, why don’t you move back to town and all that jazz?” With that, Jungkook rested back against the couch, laughing bitterly and shaking his head.  “Me? No, no. I don’t believe in marriage.” It was your turn to scoff.  “And yet you were expecting me to believe in it?” You took a sip of your coffee. “No, I have no plans of getting married, my business is thriving and I’m making a shit load of money, I have no need for a man.” You looked down at your mug and Jungkook went quiet.  You flicked your gaze to him, confused at his silence, and you were met with an intense look right back at you.  “What?” You asked.  “Are you straight?” He asked, and you almost choked on your own spit.  “Why does it matter?!” You were appalled by his question.  “Well, are you attracted to men?” He continued.  “Yes!” You answered right back.  “So you don’t need men for anything?” He lifted a brow.  “I can’t seem to find your point here, Jungkook.” You argued.  “I’m saying if you’re attracted to men only, and I don’t want to assume, sexually speaking, you maybe can get by with a toy, maybe a very realistic dildo or a vibrator, but I take that it’s not like the real thing, so you’re not fully satisfied, therefore... You kinda do need men. Even if it’s just to get off.” He finished with the calmest expression ever and you were left with your eyes bulged and a slightly parted mouth.  You were speechless, not only because of how nonchalantly he said those things but because he had a point. Sure, you got yourself off pretty well here and there with toys, but a real, live human was irreplaceable to you. With your mouth opening and closing a few times, you blinked.  “If we’re talking about sex and sex only, then maybe, yes, I do need a man, but 90% of the time they don’t do it right anyway, so I rather resort to my toys. They’re also pretty quiet.” You rested your mug on the center table, lifting your legs and folding them besides you.  “You met the wrong kind of men.” He cockily says, and you notice then that he’s flirting. This was something you enjoyed. Flirting. You were pretty good at it too.  “And I assume you’re the right kind?” You teased back, and the lazy smirk that spread on him was devastatingly attractive.  “Would you like to find out?” He rests his mug right beside yours, sitting back again, and your eyes fell to the swell of his thighs. Surely they would feel delicious under your palms, or perhaps your heat, fuck, all of him would probably feel delicious, his large strong hands, his bulging muscles and you were pretty sure he wouldn’t disappoint in the downstairs department.  “I would like to know how you’re feeling.” You change the subject, watching him purse his lips and nod in understanding before he answers. It wasn’t like you hadn’t thought about sleeping with him, in fact, you had since the moment you laid eyes on him. But he was hurt, maybe still a little confused, and you surely didn’t want to take advantage of that.  “Feeling better, yeah. I don’t think I can walk back to my car, though.” He admits, eyes falling to the window to see the rain still resilient outside.  “We have spare rooms, you can stay the night, and tomorrow we can find a way to call for a repair or something like that to get your car from wherever you left it.”  He nodded, getting up and picking up the mugs before making his way to the kitchen where he left them both in the sink.  You showed him the way to the guest bedrooms, making sure you left him in one that was close enough to your old bedroom in case he felt sick during the night, and you being a night owl, would make sure to check on him during the night.  You gave him a fresh change of sheets and a towel in case he wanted to shower and said goodnight before moving to your room. It had been a while since you stepped foot in there, and it was all still exactly the same.  Your dark purple walls with posters, the pictures of your friends from high school hanging on the vanity mirror, you smiled fondly at one of you and Jungkook, maybe you were ten, nine, you couldn’t remember, but his large bunny-like teeth peeked out, one single hole showcasing his loss of one tooth. You sat down on the bed with a huff, a picture from the vanity flying off with the wind it caused, and you reached down to the floor to pick it up.  It was one of you and your grandmother.  Her large smile, so bright and powerful as it always was, leaning down with white gloves as she planted a flower right in the front garden of the house. You were right there beside her, wide smile as well, just as happy, as thrilled as you both planted new flowers to adorn the house. The same was in the background, full of life and so many memories that you felt a light tug at your heart. Maybe Jungkook was right... Maybe selling a hose as memorable as this one was a heartless act. But you brushed that thought away, placing the picture on the vanity counter and getting ready for bed.  You were hyper-aware of the man in the other room, one that had insinuated that he wanted to sleep with you only but a few minutes ago, but not because of that. You were hyper-aware of him in the other room as you finally felt a hard sob rip through your throat. Crying everything you hadn’t cried in the last three days. You tried muffling your cry, but it was too painful to do so. You would miss her and you regretted not visiting. You regretted how annoyed you seemed when she showed up to your apartment unannounced with her bags saying she “missed you and was spending the weekend” detouring whatever stupid plan you had. You regretted so much, but now it was too late to regret anything at all. She was gone. You were completely alone in this world. No parents, no family at all, not even a cousin, a boyfriend. Not even a real friend.  You fell asleep with silent sobs that night, and unknown to you, a very wide awake and hazy Jungkook hearing every moment of it with a weird feeling in his chest and body.  It wasn’t only because you were crying.  But because he couldn’t remember.  He couldn’t remember anything about his accident or anything before he knocked on your door.  Pancakes. Or maybe waffles, perhaps eggs. Yes, eggs and bacon. That’s what you smelled. And coffee, fresh-brewed coffee.  Your eyes gently fluttered open, the soft light seeping through the curtains in the room quickly reminding you where you were, and yet the smell of breakfast was all you could think of.  You rubbed your eyes, slipping on your flip-flops before slowly making your way out of your room, you quickly passed the room Jungkook had slept in, looking in to see it was as if no one had slept there at all and as you made your way downstairs slowly, the smell intensified.  You went around the kitchen wall only to be met by a shirtless Jungkook, the shirt you had given him hanging on his shoulders as he whistled to a song on your grandmother’s old radio and stirred some eggs on the frying pan. The low slide of your flip-flops against the hardwood floor had him turning his head towards you.  “Good morning!” He beamed with a bright smile.  Your eyes moved to the kitchen table, eggs, bacon, coffee, and... Pancakes? You were confused, very confused.  “Someone’s not a morning person.” Jungkook chuckled as he turned off the oven and pushed more eggs onto a plate in the center of the kitchen table. “Come on, sit down, have some coffee so you can function like a normal human being.”  You didn’t know what was more startling, the sight of pancakes when you clearly saw there was no food or the sight of a shirtless Jungkook cooking you breakfast as if you two had just slept together the night before.  You didn’t say anything, still confused and drowsy with sleep as you sat down, eyes flicking to Jungkook as he put his shirt back on to sit right beside you and start pouring you a cup of coffee.  “I’m...” You began, watching him pour himself some before reaching for the really well-done pancakes. “How did you...” “The pancakes?” He asked, and you nodded. “They’re vegan. I found some flour that wasn’t expired in the cabinet and some vanilla extract, made them with water and some oatmeal powder, oh and sugar!” He shrugged. “I actually work with vegan and vegetarian food. Not that I am either of those myself, but there is a huge place in the market for it. I make easily affordable meals for people who don’t have time to cook for themselves.” You rubbed your eyes slowly, reaching for the coffee mug and bringing it to your lips, taking a large sip before you sighed.  “That’s pretty useful, I’ve lost some clients in the past because my menus don’t offer them Vegetarian or Vegan options.” Your raspy voice spoke out.  “Menus?” He asked, brows furrowing.  “Yeah... I have a catering business. Weddings, parties, companies, even movie productions.” You began to explain. “I started with culinary school, wanted to become a chef, I kind of did, but I didn’t want to work at a restaurant where you have these really straight forward menus, I wanted to do something different, even fun.” You reached for a single piece of bacon. “So, my menu also caters to children, we have gourmet corn dogs, sweet popcorn, some over the top hamburgers.” You smiled, bringing the food to your mouth and taking a bite of it.  “Just like your grandma, huh?” He said and your eyes moved to him.  You had never made that connection before. But now that he pointed it out, he was right.  You remember you and your grandmother cooking several fun meals all day. Baking cakes, pies, making savory snacks for when your friends came over. And your birthday parties always had a little something different, and it was all your grandmother’s doing.  “Yeah, I guess...” You chewed, reaching for the vegan pancake, not really trusting it would taste good with the ingredients he had mentioned.  But to your surprise, as soon as you cut a piece and put it in your mouth, the loud moan you let out would have been lewd if not for Jungkook’s loud chuckle as he watched you eat his cooking.  “What the fuck, this is delicious!” You almost screamed, digging in more.  “And it’s healthy too.” He lifted his cup.  “Fuck, fuck... So fucking good.” You continued the moans of gastronomical pleasure.  “Not going to lie, it’s kind of hot watching you lose your shit over my cooking.” He chuckled, and you gave him a pointed look, rolling your eyes before going back to the pancake.  “Jesus fuck, Jungkook, this is amazing, we should totally work together sometime, I have so many clients that would pay big fucking bucks for healthy, vegan meals like this.” You offered, already finishing the pancake.  “Yeah? I could use the cash, business is good but it could be better.��� You smiled at him, still chewing, and just as you were about to speak the radio beamed with what you recognized as a hurricane alert.  “Seems like we have a hurricane heading towards the town in about one day or two, all main roads are closed for the time being, we advise everyone to stay in their homes, stock on food and water. Do not go outside under any circumstances, I repeat, do not go outside under any circumstances.“  You and Jungkook shared a concerned look, and he pursed his lips.  “I should probably find a way to get to town...” And just as he said that a bright flash of lighting had you bulging your eyes and a loud rumble of thunder shook the house, heavy, aggressive rain pouring outside in a matter of seconds.  Jungkook looked at you and you pursed your lips.  “Or maybe not.” You said right before the lights flickered and you heard the refrigerator turn off. “Great.” You chuckled and Jungkook shook his head.  “I’m really out of luck, I bet my car is already fucked by now.” He sighed, resting his head in his hands.  “If you have insurance your car will be fine.” You said standing up to test the lights before confirming the power was off and heading for the kitchen drawers, looking for candles.  “We don’t have any more food or water,” Jungkook interjected, watching you bring two packs of candles and leave them on the table. It was still pretty illuminated in the house, despite the dark clouds making it seem like the sun was already setting.  “I, well, we do, actually, my grandmother has a bunker I guess, she has a lot of canned foods and stuff like that, also a shit load of water, we should be good.” You informed, walking back to the table, noticing that Jungkook’s hair was wet.  “Did you take a shower?” You asked, and Jungkook furrowed his brows in confusion.  “Your hair is wet.” You said as you sat down.  His hand moves up to his hair, running his fingers through the damp locks.  “Oh... I guess they just take a long time to dry.” He shrugged, and you gave him a look of confusion before finishing your breakfast.  “You don’t mind me staying?” He asked after you both finished eating, you were at the sink, washing the dishes as he sat on the kitchen counter right beside you, watching.  “Honestly, what’s a couple more days gonna do. Besides, I would probably shit my pants if I had to go through a hurricane in the dark by myself.” Jungkook lifted his brow at that.  “So... Another thing you need a man for other than getting off?” He gave you a smug look.  You rolled your eyes at him, spraying some water onto him. “No! Company doesn’t necessarily require a man, Jungkook.” You answered, finally finishing the dishes, placing them to dry. “And you seem to be obsessed with the idea of me getting off.” You dried your hands and looked at him, leaning on your hands on the counter.  There it was. That lazy, charming smirk of his. One that honestly had your panties twisting.  “You want me to lie?” He cocked his head.  “You’re outrageous.” You chuckled, turning your back to him and taking a few steps before you were stopped by a cold hand on your upper arm.  It wasn’t a tight grip, if anything, it was a gentle one.  He was already on his feet, tugging you back to him, and the little huff you let out once your body fell flush against his had him smiling wider, your hands resting on his chest.  “You know what’s outrageous?” His hands slipped down your arms gently to rest on your hips, it was almost as if he was hesitant to touch you, waiting for consent, as his silky voice spoke, his back rested against the counter, legs slightly parted for you to slot yourself in the middle. “The fact that I know I can make you cum so hard and good that your legs stop working and you’re here pretending you don’t know.” That had a blush spreading on your cheeks, a loud swallow almost inaudible because of the hard rain hitting the window just behind him.  “How would I really know, though? You seem like a teller, not a shower.” You teased back, already feeling heat cripple down your body. You could feel his firm body against yours, even if you weren’t exactly pressed to him and his hands rested gently on your hips. You moved your gaze up. Even a little slouched down he towered over you, eyes glossy and full of intention, and that smirk. That freaking smirk.  His pink tongue came out to flicker over his bottom lip, your gaze following it before moving back to his dark eyes.  “May I?” His gaze moved to the hands on your hips and you blinked slowly up at him, nodding once.  What was once a hesitant touch to your hips became a hard, deliciously painful grip. Thumbs digging into the dip of your hip bone and pulling your hips into him, your middle gently rubbing against his. Your lips parted as you gently let your head fall back, giving him an opening even you weren’t aware of in your clouded judgement. And soon, lips were on the expanse of your neck. Soft, damp lips, grazing your skin and sending ripples of goosebumps down your body, eliciting soft whimpers from your parted lips.  “The things I’ll do to you...” He whispered against your skin, parting his lips to gently nip at the curve of your neck and jawline. It was as if you were entranced, truly. His body, words, touch was like a magnet to you, unable to even think properly as he littered his way up with gentle kisses, sucking softly at your skin once you whimpered at a rather sensitive spot.  “Jungkook...” You whimpered out and he rolled his hips into you at the sound of his name, clearly pleased with how it sounded coming from you.  Your arms quickly moved to wrap around his neck as he made his way up, more and more, lips tracing your jawline all the way to your chin before he hovered right against your lips, eyes almost shut as he looked at the ultimate surrendering look on your face.  Your eyes opened into slits, looking back at the intense gaze he was giving you, lips almost aching with the want to be kissed, you wanted to kiss him so bad, no... You needed to kiss him. It was almost as if you were desperate.  “Do you want me to kiss you, sweetheart?” His breath fanned against your lips, warm and smelling of coffee.  Just as you were about to answer, another bright flash of lightning blinded you for a second before the violent rumble of thunder shook the house.  You squealed, it was so close and Jungkook, despite his manly frame also had bulging eyes as he looked around, watching the lamps shake slightly.  “Shit, that was a close one.” He let out under his breath. You could feel something poking against the edge of your stomach and suddenly you didn’t feel in the mood to make out with him, but rather protect yourself.  “You think we should go to the bunker?” You asked, looking back at him with wide eyes and a slight pout on your lips.  He was so endeared. You looked just like you did when you were a child, scared of whatever it was, and he sighed, despite the arousal still very clear in his eyes.  “Yeah, we can go to the bunker. Can you grab some blankets and pillows? I’ll grab your bag and the candles.” He informed and you nodded, quickly making your way up the stairs.  The “bunker” was actually the basement, with concrete walls and with shelves filled with canned foods and gallons of water along with medicine. There were two sleeping bags, one that was meant for you and another that was meant for your grandmother, and as you laid them down, placing the pillows and blankets on them, Jungkook was strategically placing the candles around the room, using a lighter he found in a drawer to light them. When he was done, he went up the little stairs to close the door, the strong lock making a loud nose. He made his way back to the candlelit room, you were already seated, with crossed legs on one of the sleeping bags, eyes a little wide as you heard rumble after rumble of thunder.  “It’s really pouring out there.” He said as he sat down beside you, trying to ease you a little.  “I don’t remember going into this bunker since... I don’t even remember.” You admitted, taking in a deep breath. “It’s... Scary.”  “What is, the bunker?” He asked, tilting his head to the side. You pursed your lips.  “No... I guess... It’s scary not knowing what’s going to happen. We can be here and think we’re safe, but the whole house can fall on us and then poof... We’re gone. That’s scary.” You swallowed at the thought.  Jungkook nodded, understanding what you meant.  “I think... Death isn’t meant to be scary. It’s the not knowing that is scary.” He said, and you looked at him, watching him look ahead as if rearranging his thoughts. “Some believe in heaven and hell, others believe in reincarnation, I think it’s all in an effort to give them some peace, fear death a little less.” He nodded, and you brought your knees to your chest.  “What do you believe in?” You asked, resting your cheek on your knees, looking at him. He thought for a few seconds, nibbling on his lower lip.  “I don’t know. I want to believe that when we die... We go to a place where all our loved ones are waiting for us, where we find peace and we can choose to either live in peace or go back and do it all over again.” He looked at you. “But I can’t really believe in that when I’m just as terrified of dying as I am of being alive.” His brows furrowed and so did yours. “Like... What if I die alone? What if I die forgotten somewhere, in the cold, all by myself? What if I die knowing that I accomplished so many financial things in life but not... Emotional? No one to love, no one to be loved by. That terrifies me.”  “Not being loved?” You asked, and he shook his head.  “Dying as alone as I lived.” And that hit you like a ton of bricks.  You and Jungkook were so alike it was really frightening.  You were also alone, having conquered so many things in life. With your own business, money, success. But at the end of a busy day, you went home and you were alone. Alone with yourself and your silence. And you didn’t notice until now how lonely you were.  “At least here... If anything happens, I know I won’t die alone. I’ll die with my childhood best friend and honestly, someone I really want to get to know better.” He looked at you again with a smile and you never felt so comforted.  Your grandmother didn’t die alone. Even if you had spent most of your years away from her, even if you had only come back to this town to hold her hand one last time before she took her final breath. You were there, and so were her friends. She wasn’t alone. And even if you didn’t know what happened after, you’d like to believe that she was with your father and mother, hugging each other again, your grandmother filling them in on how well you had grown up. Smiling fondly back at him you both were quiet for a while, still hearing the thunder outside, but now it was less scary to you.  “I think we have some cards here somewhere.” You said standing up and rummaging through a drawer, Jungkook threw his head back with a grunt.  “Ugh, thank god, I was already starting to think we were going to die of boredom down here.” He chuckled, and you scoffed.  “Good to know my company bores you, Jungkook.” You found the pack of cards making your way back to the pile of blankets you had made.  “Please, you’re far from boring. If anything you’re really fucking interesting. Really proud of who you grew up to be, even if you can be a heartless bitch that wants to sell her childhood home so it can become a strip club.” He quirked a brow with a teasing grin and you slapped his arm.  “Oh, shut up. I’m not sure I’m going to sell the house anymore, I might have other plans.” You said without looking at him, taking the cards out. “Do you know how to play poker?” You asked flashing him a grin.  He raised a brow.  “Can we make it interesting?” And you squinted at him with his lazy smirk that made you tingle.  “Is it something kinky?” You asked with a tilt of your head.  “Definitely.” He winked, and you rolled your eyes before giving in.  “Fine, whatever, you pervert.”  If you had known Jungkook was this good at poker, you probably wouldn’t have agreed on making it strip poker, because now you were in your bra and panties, no socks on and he was only but socks and shirt down.  You want to blame your loss on his exposed chest, your eyes unable to focus on anything other than his ripped abs, but in reality, Jungkook was just really good at poker and his annoying cocky smirk and those strong arms draped over his legs only made you more annoyed ― and turned on. “Royal flush. Lose the bra.” He set his cards down giving you a very pointed look. Your mouth fell agape because you really weren’t expecting this at all. For a second, you thought about ending the game, but the way his eyes roamed down your half-naked body really made heatwaves rush down your spine. Placing your cards down, you let your tongue flick over your lower lip, his eyes didn’t miss that as he watched your hands move to your back to unclasp your bra. There was a look of anticipation in his eyes, glossy lids focused on your chest as you let the straps fall down your shoulders, your eyes focused on him before you slowly peel the undergarment off, exposing your perked nipples.  His jaw clenched at the sight of your exposed breasts, eyes moving all over to take them in, and there was a slow almost shaky exhale coming from him, making you pant slightly. The sexual tension in the air was as thick as the rumbling clouds in the sky. You were almost bare for him, and he loved that. Loved that he was getting the chance to see you, all for himself. You leaned back on your hands, your breasts arching forward, bouncing slightly and there was almost an animalistic growl bubbling in him.  “Take off your panties.” He breathed out, commanded, asked, you really didn’t care. There was no game anymore, that you knew for sure, and one single hand moved down to tug at the side of your underwear gently, pushing it down before you pushed the other side, sliding it down your legs. You let the fabric rest along with your bra, your heat still covered by your thighs before you bent your knees up to your chest, looking at him with lust-filled eyes. You loved the way he was looking at you, with so much want and so much desire it almost clogged your lungs. And he waited patiently, his own chest slightly heaving up and down before you slowly parted your legs for him to see all of you.  Fully bare and spread for him.  “Fuck.” He cursed out, and you knew that if he didn’t swallow thickly, his mouth would have pooled with drool. You could feel his heavy gaze fixed on your heat and you knew he could see it glisten as the candles flickered.  “Fuck, please, please can I touch you?” He breathed out, one hand already placed on the blankets in front of him, ready to crawl to you. The desperation in his voice almost made your hands falter.  “Yes, yes, do anything you want with me.” You spoke out just as breathless. And before you even had a chance to breathe back in, he was on you. Slotted right between your legs and hungry, desperate mouth on yours, you whimpered into his mouth, tongue flicking out to find his. He tasted so divine, so heavenly and you let yourself lay back on the blankets as he kissed you like it was the last time. Passionate, tender even, but messy and wet. He grunted against your lips as his hips rolled into your slit, you could feel the outline of his hardened length against your bare heat and your eyes rolled back at the delicious rub. Your hands moved to his hair, fingers tangling in between his locks. They were still wet. But you were less focused on that, and rather focused on his hot breath against your lips, sweet taste on your tongue, and the way his body rolled into you so expertly.  He pulled away only to latch them onto your neck, kissing and sucking harshly at your skin, probably leaving bruises in his path down your body. He didn��t relent when he met your breasts, sucking one perked nipple into his mouth with a deep vibrating groan that rippled down your body, sending shivers down your spine.  You arched into his mouth, whimpering softly as little shocks of pleasure shot straight to your core.  “Jungkook.” You whimpered out and his brows furrowed, hips rolling into you harder as he let your nipple go with a lewd pop.  “Fuck, I love it when you say my name like that, sounds so perfect.” He whispered against your skin, moving his lips down your middle, kissing just below your navel and you know where he’s headed, already parting your legs further for him.  “Good girl.” You barely catch the whispered praise, but as you do, you feel your cheeks blushing furiously, heart picking up in rate.  A loud moan rips right out of you, fingers gripping at the blankets once you feel his mouth wrap around your nub. He sucks it into his mouth softly, tongue swirling around and under it, making you choke out whimpers and moans at the intense pleasure. If anything, he seemed like a fucking pro, letting your nub free only to flatten his tongue, dipping the tip into your aching entrance before lapping up your slit to suck your clit right back into his mouth with a deep groan in his chest.  Your arousal was all over him, lips, chin, tongue. And you loved how messy it looked, how completely hungry he seemed to be buried in your cunt. The soft sucks to your clit became more frequent, tongue swirling it around inside his mouth and you let out a high pitched whimper, signaling he was at the perfect spot. Jungkook was a good listener, and he was adamant in making you cum, more than once. He sucked harder and harder, both hands moving to spread your legs wider, thumbs so close to the edges of your entrance as he spread it open, the ache becoming more unbearable as it stretched slightly. With just a few more sucks you let your head fall back and back arch off the blankets, legs shaking violently before a hard wave of pleasure washed down your body. Vision flashing white and extremities tingling, you couldn’t feel your legs. Your empty core clenched around nothing and he could feel it with the edge of his thumbs so close to your entrance.  He sucked softly again, riding your orgasm before he pulled away completely, only peppering small kisses over your swollen clit, watching you flinch slightly in overstimulation. You finally relaxed, back meeting the blankets once again and droopy eyes searching for him as you felt him crawl up over your body.  The lazy smirk accompanied by cum coated lips and chin was way more than you were prepared for and you whined at the sight, tilting your head up to capture his lips. He only chuckled, pulling away to tease you.  “You taste like fucking heaven.” He whispered, still pulling away every time you tried to catch his lips. “Would you like to taste yourself, sweetheart?” You nodded with a pout and he leaned in, tongue breaching your lips as he kissed you slowly, sensually, letting your cum coat your tongue as well, and you whimpered at your taste, making him pull away with a groan.  “Fuck, I want to taste you more, please?” He asked, brows furrowed and your hand moved down in between your bodies to cup his hard bulge. Palm rubbing at it back and forth. His eyes fluttered as he let his head fall at the delicious rub of your palm.  “I want your cock.” You whispered, and he took in a deep  breathe, exhaling shakily. “Please? Please, Jungkook, please?” You begged, breathy voice, a little hoarse from your loud moans, and who the fuck was he to deny you of anything at this point. He was completely under whatever spell you had on him.  He pushed his sweats down along with the black brief boxers he had under and his cock sprung up to hit against his stomach.  You were right. He surely didn’t disappoint in the downstairs department. If anything, he was impressive. Thick and long, large veins adorning his hard length, the tip glistening with pre-cum. He was massive. You even questioned if you could take him at all, and the slight doubt on your face had him chuckling.  “We’ll go slow, I promise.” He said in reassurance before he positioned himself at your entrance. He pushed slowly, and you felt your entrance stretch around him just as slow, the first inches were the hardest part, and once you felt that “pop” from his tip it was smooth sailing from there, your core stretching around his thick girth with a slight burn, he grunted as he slowly bottomed out, stilling as he panted, resting his forehead on yours, being careful not to press his wound onto you.  “Can I move, sweetheart?” He asked softly, clearly strained, his hands moving to find yours, interlocking his fingers with yours right beside your head. You nodded at him, feeling so full your eyes rolled to the back of your head. “Good girl.” He said a little louder this time, pulling out only to roll his hips into you with a breathless groan. The praise along with the thrust had your core clenching around him, making him hiss at the tight fit.  “Fuck, so good.” He breathed out, starting a slow, steady grind of his hips in and out of you, cock twitching so deep inside, you could feel him in your cervix.  “H-harder.” You whispered and Jungkook snapped his hips into you without warning, eliciting a loud, high-pitched moan from you.  “Like that, baby?” He questioned, moving his lips to the shell of your ear. You whined and he let out an airy chuckle, biting down on his lower lip as he pulled back only to snap them forward harder this time.  Your body bucked with each hard snap of his hips, his hands moving from yours to rest beside your head, hold himself up as the other moved to wrap gently around your neck, your entrance clenched harder at it.  “Oh, what a surprise.” He breathlessly teased. “The heartless bitch likes to be fucked like a whore.” And you wish you were mad at it, but truly, you did. You liked it rough and dirty just as much as you liked it slow and passionate.  “Good thing I’m a pro at it.” He gave you that cocky smirk before he started a relentless pace into you, hips snapping so hard your breasts bounced with each powerful thrust, feeling him hit deep into your core over and over.  “Such a sweet girl...” He spoke as he fucked you, grip tightening around your throat. “Making mud pies, playing hide and seek and getting fucked by her childhood friend in the basement of her childhood home, full fucking circle.” He snapped them hard with a grunt, making you reach out to latch your nails to his shoulders.  “That’s it, baby, feel my cock deep inside of you, feel it drag in and out of that sweet, tight cunt. Feel every ridge, every vein, make yourself cum all over it like you do with those pathetic toys.” He growled out. You already expected Jungkook to be a dirty talker, you just didn’t expect him to be this fucking good at it. “Just like that, yeah? Fuck, if it were for me you’d never use a fucking toy again, only my cock, I’d fill you up every fucking second of the day, creaming this tight pussy over and over as if it was made for me.” You clenched tight as his grip tightened, feeling your second high already creeping in on you. God, he was so good. “Fuck, scratch that, this little pussy was made for me, you’re all mine, all fucking mine.” He closed his eyes, getting lost in the sensations of your tight, hot walls hugging his length, deliciously rubbing against his cock as he fucked into you again and again.  “Say it.” His strained out breathy voice blurted out, and you didn’t need him to explain to know.  “I-I’m y-yours, Jungkook, all y-yours.” You were sure you had broken skin by now, your nail digging and scratching as you felt your high approach you at an unforgiving speed.  “That’s a good fucking girl.” And there it was, the praise again. And that alone seemed to send your high ripping through your body aggressively. Choked out sobs and shaking body making you unable to think and even Jungkook was surprised when you came, holding you in place as you let it wash over you, blinding your vision and making the slide of his cock even more smooth. The choked out broken whimpers and moans were music to his ears as he felt you clench over and over around his length, his brows furrowing as he concentrated on the feeling while helping you ride your second high. He slowed his unforgiving pace back down to a slow grind of his cock, the hand around your throat moving to interlock your fingers again as the other one gently soothed you, clearing the wild locks away from your face, he shushed your quiet sobs as he leaned down to kiss the tears― even you didn’t know you let fall down ― away. It was so tender, so gentle, you weren’t used to that from someone that was only but a one time lover.  But was Jungkook only but a lover?  He was your childhood friend. And sure, it had been a long time since you had seen him, and to some people that would make you strangers, but you weren’t strangers, in fact, you knew each other very well. He knew that you chewed on your lower lip when you were nervous. You knew that his eyes went wide and dear-like when he was surprised. He knew that you hated storms and the rain. And you knew that he had always protected you since you were kids.  His brows were furrowed as he rested his forehead against yours again, you could tell he was close, could tell he was only savoring the pleasure as his lips parted to let out a low, deep whimper of his own.  His eyes opened to look straight at you, it was so personal. So intimate. And right when he was there at the edge, he leaned down to capture your lips in a messy, uncoordinated kiss as you felt his cock twitching inside of you, spilling his hot cum deep within. His breath was so harsh an aggressive coming from of his nose and he couldn’t kiss you for long as groan after groan left him and he came. Fuck, he was even hotter when he came. You were doomed.  It took him a few minutes before he finally stopped. Breathing harshly before he rolled off of you, laying beside you.  You both went quiet for a few minutes, only catching your breaths before he turned his head to you, a lazy smile spread on it.  “Told you so.” He let out a cocky smirk.  “You’re outrageous.” You scoffed at him and he reached out, pulling you flush against his side. You rested your head on his damp chest, both of you flushed and fucked out. There was a quiet moment where you both just looked at it each other, it was as if time stops, as if everything made sense right there, right at that moment. It felt like home. He felt like home. Just like this house. Peaceful. And if death was anything like this, you’d gladly die.  “I know this is really weird... But I really feel like telling you I love you right now.” He admitted with a loud swallow, Adam’s apple bopping. Your heart did something you weren’t aware it could do. “Maybe it’s the after-sex haze, but I really feel like saying it back.” You said too, cheeks blushing slightly at your admittance.  “I love you.” He whispered out. And you were surprised by how it didn't feel weird, by how it didn’t sound foreign. It was as if you heard it a thousand times before, but also as if it were the first time and truly, it was. But it felt... Real.  “I love you.” You said it back and his lips spread into a wide smile.  Maybe he felt it too, felt how familiar it sounded, how... Fitting it was.  And maybe it wasn’t love at all, maybe it was just the afterglow of sex and that was ok, you’d both deal with it later. Right now you just wanted to bask in this feeling, nothing outside really mattered. Not even the rumbling of the thunder still roaring in the sky.  “God, I suddenly feel really fucking tired.” He huffed out, and you chuckled.  “You can sleep if you want.” You said but Jungkook’s brows furrowed, his once damp skin suddenly turned ice cold against you and you gasped.  “Jungkook?” You called, but he still had his brows furrowed, his lips suddenly changing shades. You sat up, looking down at his naked body, he was shaking, trembling so violently it felt like he was possessed. His skin had turned pale even under the yellow glow of the candles. And you watched the gauze on his head turn crimson red, taking over the whole thing.  “Jungkook!” You called louder, but the boy only moaned as if in pain.  Reaching out for the gauze, your fingers brush his hair.  They were soaked, dripping onto the blankets as if he was right under pouring water. Your eyes bulged, so confused at what was happening.  “Y-Y/N?” He called out your name and your trembling hands cupped his ice-cold face.  “Jungkook? I’m here, I’m right here, tell me what’s happening!” You desperately asked.  His eyes opened slightly, and you felt like you were breaking into a million pieces at the pure sadness in them.  “Please... Find me. I don’t want to die alone.” He whispered out, and you were even more confused at his statement. Desperately trying to understand but not wanting to stay still, turning your back to him, you hurridly got dressed, looking through the drawers desperatly for something to clean his wound, and just as you turned back to him there was no one there. Your eyes bulged, your heart racing.  What was happening? What was going on? You looked at the door, it was still sealed shut, there was no way he could have gotten up and opened it in the state he was. There was no way you wouldn’t have heard him! “Jungkook?!” You called for him as you made your way up the stairs and out of the basement.  You roamed the house, desperation laced in your voice, on your face in the tears that― unknown to you ― streamed down your face.  You looked for his clothes that you put to dry in the laundry, there was nothing there. But the food was there, you ran to the mirror and his marks were there.  Please... Find me. I don’t want to die alone. That was what he had said.  And even if nothing made sense right now, even if reason and logic weren’t on your side, your brain worked at full capacity, head aching, throbbing, knees falling to the floor as your hands came in between your hair. You wanted to scream. What was happening, what was happening, what did he mean?  I lost control of my car down on the secluded road somewhere...  Your eyes bulged at the memory, maybe... Just maybe that’s where Jungkook was. Maybe he had gone back for his car, maybe... Just maybe you weren’t going insane.  The storm roared outside, the hurricane now at its peak, but something inside you roared louder, no matter how crazy you felt.  You didn’t even bother to put on your shoes, grabbing your car keys and going out in the absolute havoc of a storm, soaking wet and shivering cold you got in your car with a struggle as the wind was strong against you. Turning the engine on, it took a few turns and a few punches to your wheel for it to finally come to life.  You were a good driver, but in these conditions, even the most skilled driver could die. You didn’t care, something deep inside of you screamed that you were running out of time.  You drove in the pouring rain and wild aggressive wind unable to properly see as you sobbed uncontrollably trying to remember where the secluded road was. It was a shortcut people always took when they wanted to get from the farms back to town quicker instead of taking the highway. It was also up a mountain with a lot of trees. Bumpy roads and slippery, muddy tracks. You drove regardless, making your way up the mountain road, mud making your tires turn falsely here and there, but you relented, and you drove, cursing out loudly.  “Where the fuck are you?!” You screamed before you saw on the horizon a black car, clumped down the hill a little, the front smashed straight into a tree, you drove until you were close enough, sprinting out of your car as you ran to his.  “Jungkook!” You screamed as you reached the driver’s door. The windows were shattered, rain falling into the car and there he was, unconscious, the cut still very much there, unattended in the same clothes you had met him in. You tried opening the door, but it seemed jammed. And you screamed in frustration as you hit the car a few times before trying again, pulling as hard as you could, kicking the sides to try to make it budge.  Your free hand moved to grip at the edge of the shattered window, broken glass digging into your flesh, but you were filled with adrenaline and dread, pure dread.  Jungkook was dying.  You gave all you had until you finally felt the door budge, swinging open and almost throwing you back. You stumbled in the hard rain, the wind blowing so hard against you, you felt like you could fly away as you reached into the car, undoing his seat belt before wrapping your arms around his middle.  You were small compared to Jungkook. And even if now you were questioning if anything that had happened in the last day was real or just some sort of feverish dream, you knew he was heavy, you pulled him out of the car with a lot of effort, grunting as he flopped down on the muddy floor.  You leaned over him, seeing his lips blue, his cut still very much bleeding. Your shaking hands reached for his pressure point, searching for a pulse and you concentrated, feeling it so faint against your fingers. He didn’t have much time.  You dragged him to your car, slipping as you used all your force to get him there, but somehow you did, somehow you were able to open your back seat and push him inside. You didn’t even know you had it in you.  And fuck did you drive. You drove fast, knowing it took at least ten to twenty minutes from the secluded road to the town hospital, and in this weather, it was harder to drive up the mountain, but you did, you drove fast and relentless and once you made it to the hospital it all happened too fast.  The nurses and doctors rushing to pull Jungkook out of the car, lay him on the stretcher. Your bloody hand wiping your hair out of your face as you followed them in.  But you couldn’t hear anything. You couldn’t hear the questions, you couldn’t hear the shouts.  All you could see was Jungkooks’ almost lifeless body, so pale and fragile. Fuck... You... You kissed him. You touched him, didn’t you? You... You said you loved him.  Was it your imagination? How... How would you imagine this, how would you imagine where he was, that he was hurt? It didn’t make sense to you.   “Miss! How long has he been unconscious?!” The nurse yelled, taking you out of your racing thoughts.  “Since... Around seven pm yesterday.” You mumbled out, still walking with them, watching them put wires, tubes, oxygen on him. That’s all you could really think, that Jungkook was never really there, that he had been unconscious in his car since the moment he knocked on your door.  “Are you his wife, family?” She asked, and you shook your head.  “I’m... I’m his childhood friend.” You almost couldn’t speak.  “I’m going to have someone take a look at your hand, you’re going to have to stay here.”  And just like that, he was gone. Past the double doors.  You waited.  Even after someone had come and sutured your hand, you waited, soaked, cold. You waited, even after you saw Jungkook’s father storm in between the hospital doors. Even after he had spoken to you, thanked you for saving his son after all these years.  You waited until the storm was gone, nothing but a light breeze and scattered leaves outside on the wet asphalt. You waited until he woke up and the nurse had told you he didn’t remember you.  You waited until his father said that he didn’t feel comfortable having someone he hadn’t seen in sixteen years wait for him at the hospital. He didn’t remember.  Of course, he didn’t remember.  Jungkook was stuck unconscious in a car for 24 hours and you? You were visited by someone, something urging you to save his life. And you didn’t really spend any more time wondering if it was really him, perhaps his spirit, perhaps his consciousness. You didn’t even waste your time wondering why you. Wondering why put you through something so painful, no matter what it was. In the end, it didn’t matter. What mattered was that Jungkook was safe, alive. And whatever supernatural thing had happened that allowed you to save him... You were thankful.  Two weeks had gone by since everything. The house extremely quiet as you packed your grandmother’s things slowly, not one drop of rain to keep you from doing anything at all. In the end, you had moved all of her things to the attic, deciding to maybe spend some time here, take a break from work. You didn’t allow yourself to think about Jungkook or try to explain what had happened. You had spent the first few nights crying yourself to sleep as nothing made sense, but the excruciating pain still haunted you. It hurt that he didn’t remember.  Sighing as you looked at the rough drawing of the renovations you wanted to make to the house in front of you, you reached for your mug of coffee. The afternoon sun coming through the windows and making the whole place seem cozy.  You were also baking some cookies, deciding to keep the house as you remembered it. Something always in the oven. And you had tried a new recipe, vegan. Testing out to see if they worked, if they would taste as good as... You brushed the thought away, focusing on the paper in front of you.  It was three loud knocks that brought you out of your thought. You wondered if it were perhaps a neighbor, or maybe even the delivery boy coming to bring you the groceries you had called earlier for. But you gasped once you opened the door. “Jungkook.” You whispered out, surprise and dread written all over your face.  He looked just a good as he did that day. The cut on his head now almost healed completely.  “Uh, hey. Y/N, right?” He sounded shy, hesitant. One hand coming to rub the back of his neck.  But the way he had said it only made your heart break, he really didn’t remember. “I was heading back to town, but... My dad told me that you were the one that saved my life so... I wanted to stop by to thank you, I guess. This is really awkward for me.” He nervously said. “Y-you’re Y/N, right?” “You seriously don’t recognize me, Jungkook?” You swallowed the lump in your throat, repeating the same words he had said to you that day.  “I’m sorry, it’s... It’s been a really long time. You look really different.” He pursed his lips.  “Y-yeah, that’s me... And... There r-really is no need to thank me. I’m glad you’re s-safe and ok.” You swallowed harder, nodding at him. Jungkook swallowed before he took in a deep breath, brows furrowing right after as his nostrils flared.  “Are you baking cookies?” He smiled, hands coming into his pockets. He was more relaxed now it seemed.  You pursed your lips, a soft smile spreading on them.  “Would you like to come in and try them? They’re vegan.”  The end.  N/a: Now that you read it, yes, it’s based of Charlie St. Cloud. I freaking LOVE that movie. I hope you enjoyed this fic! <3

[mimisempai]

Wait for me on the other side 1/8

Summary:

Mobius, a watchmaker, and Loki, a teacher, realize that they are separated by two years of time when they exchange letters from different years in the mailbox of the house on the cliff where Mobius lives. As the two lonely hearts feel they have found their soulmate, will they ever meet?

or the Lakehouse AU that nobody asked for.

Notes:

This is my very first multi-chapter AU. I hope you'll enjoy it. Chapters will be released on a weekly basis.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/32948254/chapters/81773392

3772 words - rating G

Chapter 1 - Chapter 2 - Chapter 3 - Chapter 4 - Chapter 5 - Chapter 6 - Chapter 7 - Chapter 8 (End)

When two people "connect" the bond between them can be so pure and simple as to stir hearts in heaven.

When they connect in all the right places at all the wrong times, heaven weeps for broken hearts. To heal these broken hearts, heaven breaks time.

—Blithe Spiritus

Loki took one last look through the rearview mirror at the cottage on the edge of the cliff, which was getting smaller and smaller as he drove away.

Shifting his gaze forward, his face slid to the crate on the passenger seat, where Croki, his pet alligator, was sitting.

"I hope you will like your new home..." Loki sighed.

Then suddenly, he braked abruptly, holding back the cage with one hand as it slid forward. Then he backed the car up.

"Shit. I'm sorry Croc'"

He walked over to the mailbox. He put his hand through the window, opened the mailbox and put an envelope inside. Then his long fingers pulled the red flag in a vertical position, to indicate that there was mail. All this under the eyes of Croki who followed with attention all his gestures.

He tapped the top of the cage, "Come on, this time we're off for good."

He rolled, speeding up, refusing to look at the sign for the tiny village his home was in, New Asgard.  Loki rolled east, the cliff behind him, then passed a sign: New York, 35 miles.

The traffic became heavier as he approached the city.

After maneuvering through the various streets and making his way through the New York traffic, he stopped in front of an apartment building on a busy street. It was a very recent building, cold and sterile. The contrast with the tranquility of New-Asgard was striking.

He parked, got out of the car and took a moment to absorb the change in his surroundings. Then with a sigh, he began to unload his things.

**********

Loki stopped at the steps in front of the entrance to the imposing establishment - September High-School. He inhaled deeply to give himself courage before moving forward, climbing the few steps and pushing open the heavy door. He entered and walked to what appeared to be the front desk where a busy looking secretary was standing.

Loki asked softly, "Excuse me?"

"Just a minute, okay?"

Loki waited a minute, politely, then tried to get the secretary's attention again.

"Ahem... Excuse me, I need to..."

She handed him a stack of paper, while saying, without looking at him, "Just fill this out and wait for me there, okay?"

Loki handed it back to her.

"No, I'm Loki Laufeyson. I'm a new teacher. I was told to report here."

The secretary looked sheepish, "Oh, I'm sorry, Professor. You need to find Principal Romanov. She should be around here. A woman with red hair, dressed in black, you can't miss her."

He did indeed find the Principal in the hallway that the secretary had pointed out.

Natasha Romanov may have looked young to be a high school principal, but everything about her demeanor, her head carriage, her attitude exuded confidence and authority. She walked quickly down the hallway and Loki, though tall, had a hard time keeping up with her.

The principal handed him a large stack of files as soon as they arrived in her office.

"You will be in charge of the sophomores, this morning you will have three classes to teach and three this afternoon."

Loki repeated to be sure, "Three?"

"That's a quiet day, for a first day."

Loki looked a little dazed, he didn't think he was going to jump into the deep end and thought he would have some time to adjust.

The principal turned around, as if she sensed his hesitation, "The teacher you replaced let us down without notice, and it took us a while to find the right replacement, the students lost a lot of time for their final exams. We have to do our best to make sure they pass."

They walked past a student who was sitting alone on a bench, looking sulky. Romanov motioned to a supervisor.

"What's he doing here?"

The supervisor replied, "He was grounded because he took apart a computer to prove Professor Banner wrong and has to do an hour of gym under Professor Odinson's supervision. However, I can't leave the place unattended, and I was waiting for my backup to take him there.

"Peter get up," said principal Romanov in a sharp tone.

The young man stood up, a sulky look on his face.

"Professor Laufeyson, take him to Professor Odinson in the gym and then you can begin your lessons in this class."

The principal pointed to the door of the classroom in question, then turned and walked back to her office, not waiting for an answer.

"Well come with me, Mister...?"

The young boy followed his lead and replied with a pouty tone, "Parker, Peter Parker. »

"Then let's go Mr. Parker, the computer dismantler." replied Loki with a wink.  He knew he couldn't condone what the young man had done, but he couldn't help but find it amusing.

Seeing that the professor didn't look reproachful as he said these words, Peter lost his pout and got a small smile.

"Although I'm curious as to what could have caused you to disassemble a computer."

Peter seemed to come back to life, explained to an amused Loki, that Professor Banner, who taught biology, had said that nothing could compare to the complex construction that was a living being and Peter had wanted to show him the opposite by dismantling the Professor's laptop.

"But I was about to put it back together though, I don't understand why he got so upset."

Loki couldn't help but laugh.

Peter's face frowned because they had arrived at the gym.

They walked through the door and there a giant blonde man came striding in, "Peter Parker, it's been so long! Tell me what you've been up to again." he ruffled Peter's hair who tried to shy away from it, then he held out his hand to Loki who had to hold back a wince at the strength of the professor's grip.

"Professor Odinson, but call me Thor. Nice to meet you. New professor?"

"Yes, I am the new literature professor, Loki Laufeyson, but call me Loki. I'll leave this promising young man to you," He winked at Peter before continuing, "as for me I'll be teaching my first class."

"Welcome here, and good luck!" threw Thor at him before turning back to Peter, "Go change, we'll start with 10 laps running around the basketball court."

Hearing Peter's grumbles, Loki smiled as he walked away.

A few minutes later, he stopped outside his classroom door and took a deep breath.

"It takes a little time to adjust, but most of the students here are exceptional and the teaching staff is really, really nice."

Loki turned to see who had just spoken.

He found himself facing a black man, taller than him, and very impressive. But despite his imposing nature, his smile and eyes were very warm as he held out his hand. "Heimdall, art professor, welcome."

Loki grasped it and replied, "Loki, literature professor."

Heimdall gave a small nod in the direction of the door, "Good luck." then walked away.

Loki, surprisingly relaxed following this little interlude, walked through the classroom door with a confident air, placed his belongings on the desk and with an engaging smile on his lips addressed his first students, "Hello, I am your new literature teacher and I hope we will work well together."

He paused, letting his gaze roam over the entire class before continuing,"O Captain! My Captain! Who knows where that came from? No one? No idea? It's-"

A young boy raised his hand at the back of the classroom.

"Yes Mister...?"

"Keener, Harley Keener."

"All right Mister Keener, I'm listening."

"It's a Walt Whitman poem about Abraham Lincoln. And it's plagiarism of Professor Keating's introduction played by Robin Williams in Dead Poets Society."

Loki didn't lose his confidence at all and replied, "Thank you Mr. Keener. I'm not going to apologize for the plagiarism. I didn't expect anyone to contradict me since this film was released long before you were all born. Thank you, Mr. Keener, for setting me straight. I won't ask you to call me Captain, Sir, or Professor, but simply Loki. Yes, Mr. Keener, Loki, as in the Norse god of mischief... "

The whole class, including Harley, laughed and Loki thought that it wasn't such a bad start.

But he still felt exhausted at the end of the day, and he slumped into the chair at his assigned desk in the teacher's lounge. He leaned in and put his head back, closing his eyes.

"So they've worn you out already?" it was the deep voice, which he recognized as Heimdall's. He opened his eyes to see that the art professor had sat just at the desk next to him.

"Yet the Famous Five keep talking about Loki, the new professor who is super cool. It's been a long time since I've heard a literature professor on such good terms." It was Thor who came to join them and pulled a chair to sit in the space between Heimdall and Loki.

"The Famous Five?"

Thor chuckled before answering, "They're called that because they're always stuffed together, probably five of the smartest minds in this elite school, and as a result always going out on the town to..."

"…the benefit of science." finished Heimdall.

"That's their argument every time they get busted," Thor clarified.

"Who are they?" asked Loki, curious.

"There's Peter who you met this morning, he's in the same class as his two childhood friends Ned and MJ. There's Harley who talked about how you put him in his place, when he thought he had fooled you. Captain my Captain huh?"

Thor chuckled before continuing, "and finally Kamala Khan, the newest one, a little brunette, a ball of energy who always wears a big red scarf, summer and winter and who the other four have taken under their wing."

"Interesting..." replied Loki, thoughtfully.

"Wait until you're the target of their prank and we'll see if you find these kids interesting." said an unknown voice behind him.

"Bruce my friend! Were you able to fix your laptop?" exclaimed Thor with a laugh.

Loki turned around, only to find himself standing in front of a man who was a little older than him. He stood up and held out his hand, "Professor Banner, I presume."

"Am I that famous?" the man asked, raising an eyebrow as he shook the outstretched hand in a firm grip.

"It's mostly that I had the pleasure of taking Peter Parker for his grounding to Thor." replied Loki

"That brat..." harrumphed Bruce. "He's smart... but his habit of proving he's always right..."

The other men laughed in unison.

"So boys? Are we having fun?" a young woman with short blond hair stepped forward and held out her hand, "Carol Danvers, homeroom teacher at this crazy school."

"Nice to meet you," Loki replied, shaking the outstretched hand.

Unaccustomed to being around so many people and especially such friendly people, Loki felt a little overwhelmed and suddenly the fatigue of this first day seemed to fall on his shoulders to the point that he had to stifle a yawn.

Thor patted him on the back and said, "I have an excellent remedy for that."

"What is it?"

Heimdall and Thor high-fived each other and said in unison, "The Bifrost."

At Loki's look of complete incomprehension, Carol explained, "It's a bar two blocks away, good burgers, good beer and for good company, that's us." she finished with a wink.

Loki realized they were inviting him to come with them but he hesitated and finally replied, "Thanks. I better not drink tonight. I'm dead."

Bruce retorted, "We're all dead."

"Yes, but I still have a lot to unpack."

They nodded, and did not seem disappointed by his refusal, even rather understanding. Loki really wasn't used to this kind of company.

Heimdall put his hand on his arm and then said softly, "Next time, then."

Loki, not understanding why his throat was tight, simply nodded.

A little later, they separated in front of the school gates. Loki on one side and the group on the other.

" Bye Loki!"

"See you tomorrow Captain!"

Loki lived only three blocks from the school and soon arrived home. When he entered he realized how sterile and cold his large apartment seemed.

He had not yet had time to unpack all his things and the boxes were scattered everywhere. The first thing he had unpacked was Croki's terrarium, which took up a whole room.

As he closed the door, he heard Croki's typical little paws coming and rubbing against him as usual. He patted his head and headed for the kitchen. Croki was a Cuvier's Dwarf caiman. Loki had once wanted to get a dog, but in the animal shelter he had immediately felt a connection with the animal, perhaps because he was different, like himself.

Loki opened the refrigerator which was desperately empty except for Croki's fish ration. He put it on a plate and put it on the floor while commenting, "Need alligator food. And human too."

He was going to have to do some shopping tomorrow.

After snacking on a bag of chips, exhausted, he took a quick shower before going to his room.

"Good night Croki."

His room was as functional and depressing as the rest of the place. He went to stand in front of the window. Outside it was all stone buildings. It was very difficult to even see the sky. He sighed, "What a view..."

He pulled the blinds and went to bed. Once his head was on the pillow, he fell asleep very quickly, which prevented him from thinking too much about everything he missed.

**********

A red pickup truck passed the New Asgard sign before parking at the side of the path that leads to the house. Its back end was filled with furniture and moving boxes. A mustachioed man with gray hair got out. He walked toward the cottage on the edge of the cliff and stopped, hands on hips, contemplating the view.

He opened the door, looked for the electric power meter. He turned it on and went to turn on the light in the entrance and then in what seemed to be the living room.

Mobius examined the place, satisfied. There wasn't much. A stereo, some books, an armchair. But the bare and cosy furniture matched perfectly with the austere beauty of the small cottage. He looked out the window at the cliff. He was going to like it here.

It took him a good four hours to unload his pickup truck by himself and install just about everything he had brought. Once finished, he grabbed a cold beer that he had put in the cooler and while drinking it quietly walked around the house before getting in the car to go shopping at the local grocery store that he had spotted on his way in.

Once he had gone around the store, with his groceries in his arms, he went to put them on the counter.

The young owner and his wife were behind.

"Hi, are you new around here?" the owner asked him.

Mobius smiled and replied, "More or less. My name is Mobius."

The owner replied, "My name is Clint and this is my wife, Laura."

Laura smiled and added, "You're going to like it. Especially now that the weather is getting warmer." Then pointing to the groceries, she added, "We'll get you some boxes for all that."

"Oh thanks." replied Mobius.

Laura fetched an empty box from a high shelf. Now that she was no longer hidden by the counter, it was obvious that she was pregnant. Clint rushed to her. "No, honey, let me."

Mobius looked at them, feeling moved and at the same time fully aware of his own loneliness. He paid, took his box and left, but not without promising the young couple to return.

He parked in front of the small road with his groceries in the back of the truck and noticed the mailbox with its flag up. He stopped and opened it. There was an envelope.

For the new tenant.

He took in the groceries, put them away, made himself a sandwich tray and taking the letter, he went to sit on the armchair in front of the bay window. He put his tray on a small table next to it, opened the letter and started to read.

Dear new tenant.

Hello and welcome to your new home and congratulations, blah blah blah. You have made an excellent choice, New Asgard is a wonderful place and this house is a gem, as you may have already noticed.

I'm sure you'll love living here as much as I do.

By the way, I'm the former tenant, Loki.

Mobius looked perplexed but also pleasantly surprised.

The post office forwards my mail normally, but if something should happen here, because the post service is what it is and we are never safe, my new address is below. Thank you.

Mobius turned over the letter.

P.S.: Sorry for the pawprints leading to the front door. They were already there when I moved in, as well as the box in the attic. I think it belongs to the owner.

Mobius stared at the letter in amusement and could not help but check the end of the letter.

He went to the front door. The floor was clean. Inside and out.

"What did he talk about?" he scratched the back of his head before heading for the ladder that led to the attic. He opened the hatch, poked his head through and looked around. It was empty. No box.

Mobius went back down, shrugged, crumpled the letter and threw it away.

He finished his meal and went to bed.

The next day, in his clock store, while repairing an antique watch with an extremely complicated mechanism, he couldn't help thinking about the letter and its more or less strange ending when he was interrupted by the doorbell indicating that someone had entered the store.

He put down his tools, wiped his hands, and headed for the store.

"Hey Mobius! I made lunch, shall we share?"

It was the bubbly and somewhat invasive, Sylvie. The owner of the antique gun store right across from him.

He replied, annoyed, because she had interrupted his work that he loved, "I can't, I have urgent work to finish."

"Oh come on Mobius, there's nothing urgent about an old watch."

"It is to its owner."

She made a disappointed pout, "Well, okay..." she sighed and headed for the door, then turned abruptly. "Is it true you bought a house? Where is it? How is it?"

Mobius rolled his eyes, used to Sylvie's chatter.

"It's an isolated cottage, in a small village called New Asgard."

"You're sick to isolate yourself like that!"

"It's what I want and I already feel at home there. And now, if you don't mind, I'm going to get back to my work, which is not urgent." He walked briskly toward his studio, annoyed by the criticism of his choice, and didn't even hear the door close.

In the late afternoon, after his day's work, he decided to repaint the faded fences that lined the small path. The manual work, like his work on watches, helped him to clear his head.

A few hours later, as the day was getting darker, Mobius was kneeling on the steps and applying a new layer of paint to the weathered planks. He finished, satisfied with the result, and began to put his equipment away.

Behind him, a small dwarf alligator trotted along the path. Mobius didn't notice it at first. The alligator sped up and before Mobius could react, he stepped into the paint and left footprints behind him. "Hey!"

Mobius tried to catch the alligator but it ran back inside the house whose door Mobius had left ajar. Mobius was about to follow him, wondering what an alligator was doing here and if he was dangerous, when he suddenly stopped.

On the ground in front of the house, there was a trail of paw prints.

Mobius rushed to the garbage can and searched with determination through his trash when he finally found what he was looking for: Loki's letter.

He stared at it.

Sorry about the footprints leading to the front door. They were already there when I moved in, as was the box in the attic. I think it belongs to the owner.

He remained for a long moment staring at the crumpled note.

*********

Loki went out to have lunch at a place he had spotted not far from the school.

Finding the weather warm, he opened his coat and continued walking.

When he arrived at the place, he sat down on a bench and started to unwrap his sandwich, a book in his hand. He enjoyed this moment of calm, even if the place was crowded on this beautiful day.

Once finished eating, Loki closed his eyes for a moment, letting the sunlight warm him up. Just aware of the surrounding sounds, the water of the fountain, the splashes and laughter of the children playing there, an old man grumbling about global warming, the pigeons landing not far away, hoping to get some crumbs from those who like Loki had decided to have lunch here.

Suddenly, a horrible noise, a high-pitched squeal and a horn made Loki sit up. He suddenly opened his eyes and looked around.

A few meters away, in front of Loki, a double-decker city bus was trying to stop. It was going pretty fast, although you could tell the driver was trying to brake.

Loki registered it all, the noise, the bus, before noticing the gray-haired man standing directly in the path of the bus. There was nothing to be done, it was inevitable and almost immediate, the man was hit by the bus, and Loki, horrified, saw his distant figure fly ten or fifteen feet into the air before crashing to the sidewalk. The faint sound of the impact reached Loki half a second later, due to the distance.

Loki automatically took out his cell phone and dialed 911. As he walked towards the impact point, he gave all the information to the rescue workers, trying to remain calm.

Once he hung up the phone, he started to run towards the lifeless body.

_______

Chapter 1 - Chapter 2 - Chapter 3 - Chapter 4 - Chapter 5 - Chapter 6 - Chapter 7 - Chapter 8 (End)

As always, bear with me as it is not beta'd and english is not my native language I hope you enjoyed it nonetheless🥰

[worstloki]

trans shuri headcanons 🥰🥰🥰

- shuri figured out she wasn’t male at around age 10 and tiptoed around it with androgenous clothing... and also stopped cutting their hair short... no one really took note because it was an aesthetic and looked good anyway

- got caught at age 12 wearing a dress and doing braids because t’challa was doing some wack fighting practice and smashes through her window. he brushes himself off, makes fingerguns and says “nice dress shuri” and walks out and she’s left just there having half a heart-attack because he just saw me what am i gonna do but also he was fine with it?

- t’challa didn’t think anything was up and probably didn’t even register it was a dress... so when later that week shuri hacks every speaker in the palace to play the “I am the man” meme edited to say “I am the woman” he’s the one having the biggest existential crisis over it. everyone else is chill about it. her mother/father have already arranged for her traditional clothes to be adjusted.

- “is there something i should be doing different? no one told me what side effects having a sister would have. i am not prepared. I need Nakia to help.” “no more cake on your birthday i’m just going to throw jewelry and dresses at you.” “but ShuuUUuuuurrrrri who will accompany me when Father wants to give a lecture on spirituality noooowwww :(” “SHuRi I have obtained the knowledge about the... fish... braids... please!! Allow me to do your hair! I have been told women like to do this in their free time.” 

- learning to do her hair up and braid it elaborately mostly with the help of T’challa

- shuri as a name carried over because it works for either gender anyways and she’s happy with it :)

- Okoye Shuri and Nakia on girl shopping days (they look at weapons, vintage tech, maybe stop by a tailor, get their hair + nails done,)

- Shuri and Peter meeting and just kinda side-eyeing each other around the vine references and memes 

- “Are you...” “ahaha why would you think that no im not spiderm--” “oh, im sorry for assuming i thought you were also... ya know...” “holy moly-- yoU’RE the blaCK pANthEr?! I knew it! You’re totally trans too!” “I-- HOw did you-- no!! wait, wHAT was that about spiderman?!” “uhhhhh” “yeah im trans” “aww yeah!! trans rights!!” “trans rights!!” “so im spiderman” “you’re WHAT”

- t’challa and tony just watch this entire conversation and they’re stuck between exasperation and laughter

- peter and shuri are both trans in opposite directions and they have the cutest tips for each other and ask each other how their outfits look and they stay in touch even if it’s only through sending each other memes

- loki shows up and is immediately like ‘i sense the presence’ and gives them a peace sign and goes “sup im loki im 19 and i never learnt how to read and also im nonbinary hi nice to meet you” and their initial reactions were ohmygodhe attackednewyork but Loki says they’re genderfluid and there’s instant trust just like that. now they can magic and meet up whenever despite the huge distances between them and Shuri gets half-adopted by Tony too and gets a room in his house in case she wants to stay over ever 

- Shuri wearing western clothing when she thinks the traditional clothing is a bit too similar to the men’s and her dysphoria acts up 

- Shuri designing the black panther suits to adjust to both genders

- unashamedly showing off her height and wearing heels because she thinks she looks good in them (she’s right)

- the trans puns. do you know how many science words have trans- as a prefix?! do you know how many times a day Shuri can use them?!?

- Shuri Peter and Loki giving each other ridiculous nicknames that exaggeratedly lean into their genders (eg. petal, monster truck, average, missile launcher, fairy wings, The Fae) 

- they refer to the cis people as “default settings” so you’d better believe they go around giving badges with that written on them every time they sense a cis™

- Anyone: *says anything to question anything about her, be it gender or intellectual ability* Shuri: hmm kinda sus :/ sounds transphobic and like you really needs a vaccine rn :/

[barschter000]

OWOWOW MY FANGAN

THANK YOU SO MUCH AT EVERYONE WHO IS INTERESTED IN THIS SERIOUSLY YOU CAN'T BELIEVE HOW HAPPY THAT MAKES ME MY HANDS ARE SHAKING (that's also why it took so long to post this akhdjwjs)

Baiko Omori – Ultimate Lucky Student

"My name is Baiko Omori, I am here as the Ultimate Lucky Student. The pleasure of meeting you is mine, my dear friends! There are actually quite many things that I'm talented at and hopefully, this academy helps me find my 'true Ultimate.'"

  Birthday: March 11th (Pisces)

    Blood Type: A+

    Height: 165cm / 5'4”

    Weight: 67kg / 148lbs

    Likes: vintage 50s music, street food, grocery shopping

    Dislikes: cockroaches, the smell of gasoline, betrayal

Baiko never means harm as he values life over everything else. He is friendly and considerate, always smiling. He offers help where he can, sometimes coming off as intrusive but never does something that would put him at a disadvantage. He has the habit of calling everyone his “dear friend” and is in general, quirky and a little detached from normality. When you're around him, you can't help but feel like there's something off but Baiko is too nice for you to bring that up.

Ei Hagakure – Ultimate Ghost Whisperer

"Name's Ei Hagakure, Ghost Whisperer. Sup? My gramps went to this school back in his days. Sadly didn't inherit his spiritual powers, so guess I'll substitute with a bit of science."

Birthday: April 29th (Taurus)

Blood Type: B+

Height: 177cm / 5'8”

Weight: 57kg / 126lbs

Likes: bad television shows, abandoned buildings, the pizza they have on Wednesday at her university's cafeteria

Dislikes: family fights, doctor's appointments, olives

Ei is a laid-back young scientist that leaves the world of academics in wonder at her more or less successful inventions. Her greatest goal is to prove the existence of ghosts based on scientific findings. Despite Ei's grand ambitions, she is relaxed and calm and just weird enough to get along with almost everybody.

Hideaki Yukiyama – Ultimate Mathematician

"Yukiyama Hideaki, Hideaki Yukiyama, Mathematician and the Ultimate at that! This class looks pretty alright so far. You shitwits seem like the type a smart boy like me can have fun with, hehe."

Birthday: May 2nd (Taurus)

Blood Type: 0+

Height: 156cm / 5'1”

Weight: 62kg / 137lbs

Likes: the feeling of chalk, messy notes, his own laugh

Dislikes: boredom, sitting straight, school uniforms

Contrary to what his talent might lead you to believe, Hideaki is actually a brat. Constantly in the search for mischief and entertainment, he likes to ridicule and annoy others. His genius lies hidden in his complicated speech and spectacular knowledge that he uses to confuse the people around him. All negativity and criticism towards his character simply bounces off him. It is not easy to befriend him as he believes that friends hinder him but deep down, he wishes for someone to get through his irritating personality to know him better.

Ichini – Ultimate Robotics Engineer

"My model's name is 1.2, that's Ichini for you. Ultimate Robotics Engineer. Be prepared to have that weirded-out look wiped off your faces, meatbags! Someday I'll drown this world in chaos and rule humanity with my machines!"

Birthday: August 13th (Leo)

Blood Type: 0-

Height: 210cm / 6'8”

Weight: 132kg / 291lbs

Likes: the smell of electricity, children's' shows, energy drinks

Dislikes: being photographed, asparagus, humanity

Ichini is a mean cyborg that has rejected humanity and all its aspects. Xe thinks xemself superior to everyone around xem because they are still human and will not survive the overthrow of the machines that xe is planning. Despite xir large, armed metal body though, Ichini is all bark, no bite and wishes to be more courageous and confident in xir choices.

Jun Nagao – Ultimate Escapologist

"My name is Jun Nagao, I'm the Ultimate Escapologist. There's nothing much about me, really. Sorry."

Birthday: September 25th (Libra)

Blood Type: AB-

Height: 171cm / 5'6”

Weight: 63kg / 139lbs

Likes: flower bouquets, art from the Romantic era, freshly laundered clothes

Dislikes: skin tight clothing, reading out loud, overcrowded subways

After his face was paralysed in a kidnapping incident, Jun has adopted the perception of him being emotionless and cold. As he usually dismisses others and their feelings, Jun is a loner. Because his talent stems from his continued abductions, he finds it distressing to be enrolled at Hope's Peak Academy but accepts his fate to ensure his own safety.

Kaida Tsutsumi – Ultimate Stock Broker

”Kaida Tsutsumi... Ultimate Stock Broker... That is all.”

Birthday: January 9th (Capricorn)

Blood Type: AB-

Chest: 82cm / 32”

Height: 153cm / 5'0”

Weight: 58kg / 128bs

Likes: coffee, Paganini, listening to the rain while falling asleep

Dislikes: the cold, bitter coffee, wool sweaters

Kaida is a small and timid girl, so shy that it is hard to imagine that she works at the stock market. Kaida is great with numbers and probabilities and rather spends time with diagrams and prices than with people. She only speaks as much as necessary and gives her answers clear and direct. Because of her reluctance to talk about herself, she is mostly seen alone but will get extremely attached to you the moment you show that you acknowledge her. It feels like she holds a secret that she can't reveal.

Kyo Kido – Ultimate Horror Author

"My name's Kyo. Uh, Kyo Kido, that's probably how you know me. I'm the Ultimate Horror Author? I'd offer to give out some autographs but my hands are kinda shaking right now cuz– Wow– Hope's Peak, y'know! So it's gonna look kinda ugly, ahah."

Birthday: November 21st (Scorpio)

Blood Type: 0+

Height: 180cm / 5’9”

Weight: 79kg / 174lbs

Likes: romance novels, romantic comedies, the clacking sound of typewriters

Dislikes: ink stains on his hand, sharp pencils, soup

Kyo is really just a normal teenager with a knack for writing; at least, that's what he believes. Like every other teenager, he is a little awkward and shy and, in contrast to his talent, not at all scary. However, Kyo's books manage to evoke such terror in his readership that it's dubbed and loved as 'Kido's curse'. Kyo is flattered but honestly can't handle the fame.

Maxis von Läuterbach – Ultimate Knight

"My name is Maxis von Läuterbach, wielding the title of the Ultimate Knight. It is not often that you see someone as wondrous as me, so my lieges, I am ever at your service."

Birthday: June 21st (Gemini)

Blood Type: AB-

Height: 182cm / 5'9"

Weight: 75kg / 165lbs

Likes: stained glass windows, historic castles, Belgian pralines

Dislikes: blisters, ignorance, ill-behaved children

Growing up surrounded by ruins of glorious pasts and with the wish to set themself off from their peers, Maxis chose to walk the path backwards and do everything in their power to become a historically accurate knight. Unfortunately, Maxis had miscalculated and noticed that a knight lives to serve, not to be served but there is no turning back now.

Shiori Ishimaru-Owada – Ultimate Team Captain

"I'm Shiori Ishimaru-Owada, proudly bearing the title of the Ultimate Team Captain! I'm excited to get along with y'all! Honestly, I don't really know why I'm at this academy, but as long as I make my Dads proud, I'm probably doing the right thing!"

Birthday: December 14th (Sagittarius)

Blood Type: AB+

Height: 185cm / 6'0”

Weight: 79kg / 174lbs:

Likes: racing games, exercise, cooking

Dislikes: reading, hospital stays, basements

Shiori is an intense and upbeat girl. She is a capable leader with strong beliefs that she defends well and at times, imposes on others without noticing. While not being truly talented at a singular sport, she has tried out many things and has always effortlessly attracted a group of allies around her, no matter where she went. She is kind and motivational and, strange for a teenage girl, very attached to her parents.

Tamae Shiroma – Ultimate Whistleblower

"I'm Tamae Shiroma, Ultimate Whistleblower. Pleasure. Before I get any complaints later: Know who you're talking to, alright?"

Birthday: May 21st (Gemini)

Blood Type: B+

Height: 159cm / 5'2”

Weight: 73kg / 161lbs

Likes: hot baths, spicy food, her sister

Dislikes: reality TV, sugary food, caterpillars

Famous for her small but well-placed leaks, Tamae is the tiny thorn in the side of many politicians. In the shithole that she considers the world, Tamae tries to find the truth as painful as it may be to some. She is wary and never fully trusts anyone, knowing that how dirty people play for their achievements. While talking to her, it always seems like she knows more than you've told her. That is probably true. At the cost of her anonymity, she is attending Hope's Peak where she is promised security. Her talent is her duty, whether she is happy with it or not.

Etsuya Iwata – Ultimate Opera Singer

"My name is but fleeting. A rose by any other name would smell as sweet, a song of any other melody would sound as fine. For now, call me Etsuya Iwata, forever I am the Ultimate Opera Singer. Allow me to bring pleasure to your ears, my darlings!"

    Birthday: July 9th (Cancer)

    Blood Type: B-

    Height: 174cm / 5'7”

    Weight: 65kg / 143lbs

Likes: being on stage, tea, sightseeing

Dislikes: having to keep secrets, incompetence, boring drama

Etsuya is a charming lad that likes to bathe in the spotlight. He comes from renowned music schools and stages and he is aware the extend of his talent such as his vocal range, performance abilities, musical expertise or the languages he is fluent in. However, Etsuya is not arrogant, he rather aims to make people happy with his performances. It's easy to fall for his appeal and compliments but it's just as easy to notice that he is moody and picky and overall dramatic, and terrible at lying.

Rokuro Nakatani - Ultimate Fraud

"Rokuro Nakatani, sixth son of my generation. This school calls me the Ultimate Fraud yet there's no actual evidence for this claim. I fear they might have given me that title based on my sisters who were arrested for theft and forgery. Well, these are only two of my eight siblings, black sheeps aren't uncommon, right?"

Birthday: April 14th (Aries)

Height: 167cm / 5'6"

Weight: 66kg / 146lbs

Likes: lucky charms, rabbits, looking stylish

Dislikes: noisy places, manual labor, seaweed

Rokuro comes from a family of forgers and grew up in criminal ranks with limited contact to a normal life. He is used to being assessed and given a value and, just like everyone else in his clan, is a perfectionist through and through. His talent, artistic skills and his eye for detail all came naturally to him without much effort. Rokuro is the poster child of his family, earning him prestige and confidence but also pressure and envy from his parents and siblings. Towards others, he is condescending and belittling. Despite his standing in the Nakatani family and with his crafting abilities at hand, Rokuro often wonders if there is a way for him to create something original.

Miyoko Iwata – Ultimate DJ

"Miyoko Iwata, Ultimate DJ! The lil' hodgepodge I'm wearin' on my face isn't actually a laser or sumthin', it just helps me see. So no worries, I don't bite! Or at least, not that often."

    Birthday: July 9th (Cancer)

    Blood Type: B+

    Height: 172cm / 5'6"

    Weight: 68kg / 152lbs

    Likes: bass, crowds, playing violin

    Dislikes: the quiet, being lonely, salty instant meals

Miyoko is a young music producer that is known for her remixes and features and grew her large international fanbase through social media. With how many experiences she has made in so little time, she has matured quickly and developed a sort of maternal protection over those she holds dear. However, that protection often slips into violence. Miyoko lashes out and threatens people, sometimes pulling the knife she carries on her. There seems to be something hidden underneath her visor and neon clothes that Miyoko doesn't wish to talk about. She says that she is looking for something.