#three different types of lighting in three gifs and somehow i have to make them all look like theyre supposed to be in the same gifset

[shallyouobeyme]

Spider

Miles Morales, Hobie, Pavitr, Gwen + (mentioned) Platonic!Yandere!Miguel x child!reader (GN)

Summary: Deciding to cause some Mayhem, Hobie, Miles, Gwen and Pavitr go looking through Miguel's office in his absence, only that what they find there, isn't quite what any of them expected. Who'd have thought Miguel was the type to have a secret Apartment...only that that might not be the worst thing in there...

TW: Kidnapping, dark!content, yandere, threat of violence (not towards reader), MDNI, I do not condone this behaviour, this is just fiction

Day 2 of my Yandere Writetober

After Miles' official introduction into the Spidersociety, he’d loved spending his time there. Not only because he’d be able to hang out with Gwen, Hobie and Pavitr, but also because he felt like part of something bigger. He’d made up an after-school club to his parents and had somehow managed to keep the lie up to this day, which took a lot of studying and doing his best to actually attend class to make his parents trust him.

One afternoon the four spiders were hanging out when Hobie suggested doing something less boring, like breaking into Miguel’s office and checking out his hologram Programm. And while Miles and the others knew that there were some serious consequences if they’d get caught, the energy Hobie had was infectious and they soon found themselves sneaking through his door after making double-sure that Miguel and Jessica were on a mission.

The thrill of sneaking through his office, using his floating platform and the holographic floor to show each other nice or funny memories from their respective universes was just the thing four teenagers needed to have the time of their life’s.

About half an hour had passed and they were strewn around the room looking around. Hobie was probably dismembering and taking components from the different machinery, Gwen was trying to use the holographic floor to look at some classic concerts and Pavitr was playing around with the floating platform. Miles had taken to exploring the shelf’s in one of the corners of the room. Usually the room was so dark that you’d hardly be able to see them which is why

Miles had to use his phone's flashlight to see around. The shelves were filled with some gizmos and gadgets, some files strewn around, some boxes and blueprints. Nothing of particular interest to Miles, or at least nothing until his light hit a picture frame standing about where Miguel's eyes would be level with it.

Given that Miles was not quite as tall as Miguel, he had to rise to his tiptoes to even get an idea of what it depicted, he thought he recognized the image from the video Miguel had showed him when telling him about the dangers of ignoring canon events. It was a picture of his late daughter.

Miles had to swallow hard. He tended to forget what hardship Miguel went through because of how much of a douche he was to him. Something in Miles compelled him to take a closer look at the picture so he reached out to it and tried to take it, but instead of coming down from the shelf, he was only able to pull it slightly into his direction. Then there was a quiet but noticeable ‘click’ before the shelf with the picture on it opened a gap.

"Guys? Uhm, there’s something over here,” Miles called out to his friends who all ran over to him.

“What’s up?” Pavitr asked as he looked around, without seeing anything.

“Well, I think this shelf- let me just-“ he stuttered as he took a hold of the side of the shelf where the gap had opened and pulled.

“Whoa, a secret room? Cool,” Gwen mumbled in awe and slight confusion.

“I knew that bloke had somethin’ to hide, he ain’t right kosher, y’know,” Hobie shrugged and was the first to take off into the secret passage, the other three hot on his heels.

Miles wasn’t sure what he had expected to hide in the secret room, but he was sure it had been anything but what they found there.

Behind the shelf was what seemed to be a full apartment, with a nice open concept as Pavitr noted offhandedly, which in itself wasn’t so strange, after alle, maybe Miguel just liked his privacy.

Or at least that was what the four would have thought if it wasn’t for the plushies, toys, coloring books and other children’s stuff strewn throughout the different sections of the big room.

“Maybe Miggy over here is a bit more kinky then we gave ‘im credit for,” Hobie joked as he picked up a princess coloring book from the kitchen table and leafed through it.

“I don’t know, something about this seems weird, right guys?” Gwen looked around and received nods from Miles and Pavitr, “Maybe we should leave…”

Miles wanted to agree, wanted to get out of there and act like they’d never been there, but his stupid spider-senses had to start going off the charts right that second as he heard something from behind one of the three doors leading out of the room, the only door with more locks on it then on an average New Yorker apartment door.

“You guys feeling that?” Pavitr asked, confirming Miles’ fear that he wasn’t the only one whose senses were acting up.

Not bothering to answer, Hobie and Gwen were the first ones to go towards the door, quickly followed by the other two.

Hobie had already taken hold of the door on both sides ready to take it off its hinges when Gwen stopped him.

“If we break it, there’s no denying what we did anymore, maybe we should try this differently. These locks seemed to be electric, maybe we could overload them to reset them or something.”

Miles quickly realized that with ‘we’ Gwen meant him so he pushed himself to the front and got ready to electrify the locks.

A few seconds later there was a shrill beep and a click and with high anticipation, Miles took hold of the door handle and… It opened without problem.

With bated breath, he opened the door.

“Daddy?” a soft, quiet voice, doubtlessly that of a child, called out to them and all of them stood there like frozen as they stared towards the small kid sitting on a fuzzy blue rug surrounded by dolls and plushies. The child tilted their head, looking at them in confusion.

“Hi, are you friends with Daddy?” they asked, but none of them were in the mental state to answer them, all too shocked.

Suddenly a voice called out from speakers somewhere in the room.

“Y/N go into your room immediately please,” a voice - all of them recognized it as Lydia’s - said and after a slightly disappointed ‘okay Aunt Lyd’ from the child they left through a sliding door in the wall opposite of the four spiders which immediately closed (and probably locked) after them.

“Miguel has been informed of your intrusion, I’d advise you to take your leave immediately, and if you enjoy your heart beating I’d tell you not to mutter a word of this to anyone, now leave.”

With a heavy heart and many questions the four ran out of the secret apartment, making sure to close the shelf after them, before they disbanded and returned to their original universes. All of them couldn’t get the child out of their head, but especially Miles couldn’t help but feel he’d seen them before.

Only when he was lying in bed that evening mulling over the events of that day again did he remember.

Months ago his father had taken one of his files home with him, a missing persons report, a little child had disappeared right out of their childhood bedroom without any hint as to what or who had taken them.

In the upper corner of the report was a picture of a smiling toddler with an white area below where their name was…Y/N.

[gaygodlywriting]

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«not-so picasso» l.minho

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«genre: fluff + slight angst?

«pairing: lee minho x m! reader (M as in MALE, fem readers DNI)

«warnings: self doubt??, mild swearing

«relationship status: lovers

«summary/prompt: A draws B super well, but B draws A “poorly” but A still loves it just as much.

«word count: 2108

«type: full fic

«writer: maddox

«a/n: i think i managed to self insert a bit i’m sorry.. (not proofread and there has been many late night add ons which means many late night mistakes)

«requests: open (pls request im begging)

«masterlist

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minho was someone you admired dearly. he was so pretty, he is so perfect and you couldn’t help but allow your eyes to wander his features on a daily basis. his structure, his body type, his smile, his emotions, all of it was engraved into your head at some point. From the big things to the little things: the way his mouth curved so beautifully, just like his mother, when he smiles. the small scar on his stomach that he doesn’t like showing, the stars in his eyes when he has his cats with him.

his beautiful laugh that makes you smile each and every time. his need to be noisy and loud brings comfort to you in the weirdest ways. his cute obsession with his fur babies. his work ethic, his dancing skills, his pretty singing. the way he loves his members so much, the way he shows love to everyone he knows in his own way. his teasing, oh you adore his teasing. it’s so cute to you. sketching was a way you could appreciate him more.

so that’s what you did, you have a sketchbook dedicated to the lee minho. drawings of different emotions, feelings. some emotions that he might not like the best: sadness, anger, guilt, etc. all drawn in a sketchbook, you don’t see any emotion in a negative way. emotions are such a baffling thing to you, but it’s also so artistic to feel things.

you want all his emotions on your paper, you want to understand them, feel them. art was something that came naturally to you, you most definitely got better overtime but it wasn’t necessarily hard. art was a way of expression for you, and also a way of figuring out people. if that makes sense; using art to study feelings was your way of learning and developing an understanding for those emotions.

emotions are so complex, there's no true understanding for them. but art somehow just makes it seem like those emotions are something more than just feelings. it turns them into what they deserve to be recognized for, beauty. to feel is so wonderful, though it may not always seem that way.

you were at your desk in the corner of the room you shared with your partner, it was around 19:34. the natural light that had been previously flowing in through the window was no longer as bright. it had started to dim and you couldn’t see the marks you were making on your paper anymore. so you reached over to the desk light and flipped the switch on at the base of the lamp.

it wasn’t positioned to your liking so you swiftly adjusted it so you could see your work. you glanced up to the dimmed computer screen in front of you to see what song was about to play. it was the theme song from one of your favorite bl dramas, tharntype.

just as you were about to return to your work a little furry creature jumped in your lap. it was one of three of your boyfriend’s kids, soonie, he had wiggled his way under the desk and climbed onto your lap. he sat right on your thighs and had laid his paws and head on your forearm. you couldn’t tell if you were frustrated or in awe at the sight. he started purring like a motorboat in your lap, so you stopped to pet him for a bit before attempting to draw with one arm.

drawing brought you happiness, for the most part. this piece was stressing you out, soonie noticed too. pieces, such as this one, tend to stress you out as you just want it to look perfect but something always seems off. you just wanted it to be perfect, the idea in your head had been. but your execution hasn’t been very much to your liking. it was so frustrating, beyond imaginable.

you kept playing around with it, and many crumpled pieces of paper on the floor later, you couldn’t seem to figure it out. you let out a frustrated groan, then a click sound was made and the door was swung open. minho had finally arrived home.

“minho.” you spoke extending the ‘o’ sound with a little whine to your voice. he looked around and let out a small sigh at the mess. he walked over to you and pulled you off the chair that was giving you a backache after so long. he wrapped his arms around your neck giving you access to slither your arms around his waist. you slightly pulled him closer and buried your head in his neck.

“troubles?” he spoke softly, you nodded your head into his shoulder and tried to sink deeper into the hug. he smiled at his boyfriends’ actions and hugged you tighter. you guys stood like that for a few minutes in silence, “can i see it?”

you pulled away and turned around grabbed the best one off the table. you hesitantly gave him the sheet of paper. he took it out of your hand and examined the detailed sketch. you couldn’t read his face at that moment, `does he like it?`, thoughts coursed through your head. you kept a straight face even though you were nervous, `was it really that bad? why isn’t he saying anything?`.

why is it so damn hard to just feel proud of yourself? you just want it to be relieving, not stressful. when it came to art, you were very naturally talented and had a ton of practice. but as a kid, you got harsh criticism from your family for your art, you wanted nothing more for them to feel proud of you. somehow, even though you knew your boyfriend loved your creations, you couldn’t help but think he was lying to you or think he didn’t mean anything he said.

for whatever reason seconds felt like hours, you started to feel yourself tear up at the thought of someone not liking your art again. especially when that certain ‘someone’ was the love of your life. part of you knew he would love it and he would never lie to you, but that part had succumbed to the part that doubted him. that part of you brought you so much guilt, how could you think your boyfriend was lying to you when he’s done nothing but love you with his everything.

your head dropped as you subconsciously stared holes into the floor, minho had noticed something was off. he knew exactly what it was too. he set the piece of paper back on the table and put his hand to your cheek trying to lift your head to look at him.

“hey, y/n baby, what’s going through your head?” he spoke, trying to get you to look him in the eye but you refused. you slightly shook your head in response, you didn’t want to admit to him what you were thinking. “i can’t help you if you don’t talk to me.” he said a little stern, but in an endearing way. he needed communication, although he had a sense he couldn’t help you with just an urge.

“do you..” you trailed off slightly, rethinking the decision to speak. he stared at you, waiting for you to finish, he raises his eyebrows slightly to indicate that you can continue when your ready. you paused and took a small deep breath. “do you hate it? the drawing i mean.”

It was silent for a second before lino lost his cool, he burst out laughing at you. you looked straight at him, almost stunned.

“what the fuck minho” you said with a whine undertone, you knew why he was laughing so you tried to keep your cool. but ultimately you failed and laughed with him. “don’t laugh at me, i have very valid thoughts.” you rolled your eyes at him, trying to joke around getting yourself in a better mood.

“yeah y/n, i hate it so much.” he extended the ‘so’ and rolled his eyes at you. you added to the theatrics by gasping loudly and gripping your chest falling back onto the bed. you guys laughed for a minute before minho looked you dead in the eye and spoke once more, “y/n, how could i hate it? have you seen the way i draw?”

“yeah of course i have, what does that have to do with anything.” you looked at him with confusion.

“one minute.” he quickly pushed himself off you, and crawled off the bed to the art desk. he sat down and opened your sketchbook dedicated to him. he found the newest unused page and gripped the pencil hurriedly sketching something in the book.

“babe, what are you doing?” you went to get up but he cut you off,

“don’t, i’ll show you in a minute,” he said turning towards you, once was finished talking, and you had sat back down and gotten comfy, he turned back around.

a few minutes went by with only the sound of the led scraping against paper in the background. “okay, i’m finished.” he grabbed both the sketchbook and the drawing you showed him a little bit ago. He crawled back on the bed, “look alright, this is yours.” he handed you your drawing letting you soak it in for a minute.

“okay, and?” you spoke looking up and him. he opened the sketchbook and maneuvered it so it was facing you. he looked down and pointed to his drawing,

“this is mine, that’s the best i can do.” he looked up at you, as you examined his drawing. “clearly theres a difference. last time i checked i wasn’t dating someone who was that incompetent.” he jokingly said, but with seriousness laced throughout the sentence.

“hey, i’m not that stupid.” you spoke defensively, he laughed slightly.

“okay if you say so,” he said with a smirk plastered on his lips, “if you don’t like this drawing so much, i’m stealing it.”

“it’s not even finished though.” you looked at the drawing once more.

he rolled his eyes, “you act like i care, i want it just how it is now.” you went to grab it but he swiped it first. “mine. you can have this one,” he handed you the sketchbook.

it was a really shitty, but cute, attempt at drawing you with his name signed in the corner. you loved it though, and you were going to keep it.

he made his signature loud ‘ahh’ noise, “it was a long day and drawing wore me out, can’t we just watch a movie with soonie, doongie, and dori now?” he whined at you. you quickly jumped off the bed and picked minho up swinging his legs around your waist. you pushed open the bedroom door and walked to the livingroom where you set minho down. you quickly scavenged around for the kids, and food because food was necessary. once you collected your children and some food you headed back to your lover who impatiently sat on the couch with a movie pulled up. the movie was ‘wish you’, the first bl drama that minho had ever watched. ever since lino had watched it, he continuously watches it with you and you comply because how could you not?

you set his babies down on his lap, then set the food on the coffee table just in front of the couch. you quickly climbed up on the couch and placed yourself right behind minho, your chest compressed against his back and your arms locked around his waist. he got comfy and then pressed play on the tv remote, the ‘emotion studio’ intro began to play.

you were a little ways into the movie before you got bored and started kissing minho all over his shoulders, neck, and head. pretty much wherever you could reach, he started squirming around.

“cut it out, pay attention to the movie” he whined trying not to laugh. you got one more kiss in just on the middle of his forehead, when he spoke he turned to look at you so you took your chance. it was a bit longer, you just wanted to the last one to be a good one.

“okay, okay fine.” you said getting comfy again. you felt so loved and comfortable when you shared these moments with your partner. you never wanted them to end. your breath slowed, and you began falling into a comfortable rest with the only person you could ever want to spend the rest of your life with (and of course, his three loveable kids).

[harpieunion]

when I’m given the chance to talk about my Little Ladies, imma do it. I love my Whisps. I adore them. And I will make you love them too.

These are the Whisps (I use she/her when referring to them, but they/it is also acceptable). Named so due to a spelling error turned lore, these Will-o-the-wisps are notable for the indescribable and hushed whispering that fills the air around them. The gals are short, two or so feet tall, and act like intelligent toddlers. They have no features other than elemental “crowns” and color differences. More about them individually under the cut.

The Whisps do as wisps do, assist the lost. Be it the person is physically lost, or something else. They will guide you. (Note: whisps are prone to distraction. They’ll get you to where you need to be, just expect a detour or two.)

Anyways they love climbing people and sitting in laps, holding hands, making forts out of any available martial, being cozy, and playing pretend. But make no mistake, these intelligent toddlers are incalculably old.

Woohooooo you clicked read more I get to talk more about my ladies to yoooooou

First up we got little flower gal. This one is probably the most social and outgoing of the three. Her favored biomes are temperate and full of foliage and life. Got lost heading home from the creek on a summer evening? She’s your whisp. Her skin is snowy white, and would probably blind you as such if the light hit her right. The flower atop her head is forever blooming and decaying, sometimes changing color and type. She’s the tallest when with her sisters.

Next we got Lil Pebble. She’s aloof and playful, but gets her job done. More of an egg white compared to her floral sister, and her halo of rocks make delightful tinking noises when they softly collide. Did you know whisps could cook? This one can. Hit her up for a great soup or stew. Something to warm you on those cold days she favors so much. Ice and snow, she’ll be there. She’s best friends with all the avalanche dogs.

Please note she is not responsible for anything on Everest.

Last we got our fire. Either delightfully warm or searing hot, this lady has a fast temper (dewdrop, is that you?). Somehow, she’s the responsible one. Order and neatness and organization. While she’s slow to warm up to people (ha), she also loves attention. All eyes on her! She loves deserts and the dark, being the guiding flame for those needing safety. “How does a pitch black flame provide light?” You ask. I don’t know, I say.

[memphisfaith]

Chapter 9: The Second Son

Pairing: Kim Namjoon x Reader

Genre: Fantasy Au

Warnings: Racial slurs, discrimination, torcher, death, murder, mentions of enslavement, kidnapping, mentions of suicide, attempted suicide.

Word Count: 1.7K

Summary: There have always been tales of creatures in the world, all described in different ways. Some labeled as ruthless, others heroic, or even powerful. The world is filled with magic of all types and monsters of every kind. But there are whispers of family so great they could rival the heavens if tempted. A Legacy grown from love, heartache, and magic.

After very few hours of rest, The Witch and Warlock set back to work, but by the end of the day they had created a portal to the Fae realm. All they needed to do is activate it. But then there’s the question of how exactly they were going to get Jungkook back. The Witch’s answer had stunned them all however. “We are simply going to walk in. Titana knows that I will be coming for him, she would be an even bigger fool than she already is if she does not.” The Witch had decided. 

“The fae realm moves faster than the human realm for humans or anything that isn’t Fae. Jungkook has been there for at least two days, he should have aged at least two weeks since we last saw him. Thankfully he isn't old enough for the two weeks to make a significant impact on his development.” The Witch informs, Taehyung seemed to relax the most upon hearing the news of Jungkook’s development.

“By walking in we won’t waste more time than necessary, our goal is to get Jungkook and get out. We can deal with anyone else after Jungkook is safe.” The Witch concludes before turning to her bag. “Fae’s are extremely sensitive to Iron, so much in fact they make the perfect weapons.” The Witch extorted as she pulled multiple Iron chains and blades. “Fae are crafty creatures and Titana might have Fae close the portal after we enter, we need someone to stay here to guard the portal. If I may, I suggest Yoongi. Fae aren't very fond of draconic creatures and avoid them at many costs.” The Witch educated.

“How is it you know so much about the Fae?” Yoongi questions from his place against the wall. “It isn’t just Fae my dear Dragon, during my training years my mentor educated me well. But, as he would put it, I’ve always had an affinity to any and all magical beings. Thinking back I’m sure he’s right, considering I was somehow able to create Hoseok with a Phoenix heart and free Taehyung from the clutches of hell.” She muses. “I wouldn’t dare tell him that though, his ego is already too big as is.” She comments thoughtlessly. 

“So, gentlemen. Now that we have sorted out our plan, Shall we?” She chirps. The three men look at one another before Yoongi simply shrugs, without much care he activated the portal himself. In a pink blast of light a swirling pink portal opens up, “If you would follow me gentlemen.” The Witch directs as she takes the lead into the portal.

Upon entering the group is met with pastel colored nature that seemed to be glowing with an aura like light. The Witch paid the scenery no mind as she marched down the dirt paved path. The group behind her did their best to keep up with her as they marveled at the realm around them. Only when the pathway opened did they pay more attention to what went on around them rather than how it looked.

At the very end of the pathway sat two wooden thrones decorated in flowers of all colors and shapes. In one of them sat a small man, he giggled at stringless puppets he moved with nothing but his fingers. “Harlequin,” The Witch thundered darkly, the giggling man looked up from his dolls and they instantly dropped. He stood from his seat and as he did enormous colorful wings spread from behind him. The man flutters over to The Witch with a playful grin spread across his face. “My, my, The Witch of The East. What, Do we owe the pleasure?” He feigns innocence. 

“I have no time for your Fae games Harlequin, Your Wife has my child and I have come to take him back. Even if that means I take her life as I do.” She threatened blatantly. The playful smile of the Fae King’s face is wiped off and replaced with a dark dangerous one. “Well I suppose I can’t stop you now can I?” He questions in a tone much more mature than his previous ones.

“I shall call her for you,” he spoke stoically before gracefully flying away. It's moments later when a tall woman with fiery red hair and clothed in Ivy waltzes in sight, she has large pink layered wings that look almost fragile to the touch. She was gorgeous of course, what else could you expect for the Fae Queen. What really set off hostile tensions was the child in her arms, Jungkook.

He had grown more hair than when she last saw him, it also looked as if he grew a little bigger. He couldn’t be more than two months, thankfully. “Why Hello, dearest.” Titana spoke sweetly, too sweetly. The Witch glares as sparks of lighting pop off her threatening, the flaming bird behind her started to smolder in anger, and The Demon at her side seemed to be consuming himself in darkness as his eyes are black voids and veins of raven appear more vibrantly and spread wider across his throat. The Warlock with them is stunned by their such intense display of power. 

“Do you like my child, I found him while out on a stroll. I had to fight off this aggressive flaming bird and monstrous demon to save him.” She taunted as she sat on her wooden throne. “Enough games Titiana! I want my child back!” The Witch snapped, angry bolts of purple lightning flying off of her at her aggression. “Blood for blood my dear,” Titana muses, finally breaking her act. “What is one drop compared to an entire child?!” The Demon sneers, darkness leaking from his voice like liquid poison.

“My blood is royal, you ignorant demon.” Titana sneered back, “And his blood is pure unlike yours.” he rebutted harshly. Titana scoffs and turns her head in a different direction, clearly offended. But it isn’t long before a smirk crawls onto her lips, “You want your child back? Fine.” She snips. With one snap of her fingers Jungkook is gone, the temperamental demon let out a soul shaking rawer. He took a threatening step forward but before he could take anymore Titana swiftly held her hand up, Taehyung fell to his knees as pained cries fell from his lips. 

“Keep your demon on a short leash witch, You’ll get your child back.” The Fae Queen sneered in distaste, before releasing her hold on The Demon. As Taehyung heaved in breaths as two small cradles were pushed in by two small fae people from opposite ends of the room. “One child is your beloved ‘Jungkook’, and the other is a small fae child created with my very blood.” The Queen smirked. The Witch’s eyes widened as she looked at the children in both cradles, both looking like her Jungkook. Soft brown hair and big round eyes in all.

“Pick wisely Witch of the East. One child is your own while the other is made of the very thing you stole in the first place. Call this a trade if you will, one I’m sure you’ve done before.” The Queen crackled. Namjoon looked at The Witch worriedly but he was shocked when he saw the passive look on her face. “You really are a fool Titiana.” The Witch spoke in a calm voice, she watched with soft eyes as the children squirmed in their cradles. “I shall be taking both. You never said I couldn’t take them both.” The Witch whispers as she gently lays one hand in each cradle. Both small children take a weak hold on her hand causing a smile to grace The Witch’s face.

“YOU CAN’T! YOU MUST CHOOSE!” The Fae Queen rawred. The Witch simply scoffs, “I shall be taking both.” She finalized sternly. “You truly are foolish Titiana, using a creation of your own blood as a game chip. You're as disgraceful as the Harlot I took Jungkook from. Who is currently casted in gold sitting in my garden as mere ornament, unlike you who will suffer for the rest of your eternal life that you were bested by a mere mortal witch.” The Witch declared harshly. The Witch lifted both children into her arms before turning sharply, “And Titana,” The Witch called over her shoulder. “Should you find the gall to cause disturbance to my family again...I shall pluck the wings from your back and sell you as a harlot slave.” She spat before continuing her way away from the Fae Queen.

Three stunned men follow behind her mindlessly, unsure how to process The Witch’s direct declaration of dominance over the Queen of The Fae. Nothing is said as they step through the portal, Yoongi quickly closes the doorway to the other realm before looking down wide eyed, seeing not one child but two. The Witch looks down and a small smile plays on her lips as she sees one of her two children lose their glamor to show pink baby hair and tiny glass looking wings sprouting from his head and back. “How is that possible?” Namjoon asks as he gently runs his fingers over the back of the Fae child. “Fae children are unable to fully control their powers, the only reason he may have held his glamor for so long may be because of the energy of the Fae Realm.” The Witch assumed.

“Amazing,” Namjoon marvels. The Witch sent Namjoon a soft smile, “Well what shall we name him?” She questioned him. Namjoon jumped at the question, “WE?” he sputtered out. A laugh fell from The Witch’s mouth, “Well it's only fair, you did play a hand in helping him come into my care.” She smiles, “Unless you would like to keep him for yourself, if that's the case Namjoon I’m afraid you’ll have to fight me for him.” The Witch teases. Namjoon sent The Witch a large, dimpled smile, “Visiting permissions is all I ask.” He grins holding his hands up in mock surrender. “I suppose I can allow that,” The Witch smiles.

“What about...Jimin?” Namjoon questions in a soft voice. A smile graced The Witch’s lips, “It's perfect.” She whispers looking down at the two small children in her arms.

<---- Prev // Masterlist // Next ---->

[nardaviel]

boueibu high school yearbook awards ( x ) - 09. best dressed: student council

[weirdlyhornyforegos]

Darkiplier x vampire reader x Wilford Warfstache x Actor Mark

Anon: Hello! if the request is still open. Then may I request of dark / wilford / actor with an s/o that who they thought were a norma human til they discovered it that they are a vampire/mythic creatures of the night. Go wild ;3

MINORS DNI!!!! I am sorry, but the vampire reader brainrot is real y’all. Also made in poly since that’s the vibe I got from the request, and since ya know, I can ;3  With a little bit of a dominant reader. Also this turned out a lot longer than originally planned oh my

Wordcount: 5.5k+

Honestly, you had meant to tell them all ages ago.

But somehow, you just never got around to it. They never seemed to notice though, so you don’t say anything. It’s not like there's any easy way to tell someone that you are a blood sucking creature of the night.

Not that any of them was totally human, but still. You think Dark suspects something, but he doesn’t pry, so you don’t say anything about it.

But eventually you will have to.

And your hand is forced when the couple that supplies you with blood decides to move away rather abruptly, only giving you a few days notice.

Which leaves very little time for you to find replacements through the contact system, which means you go without blood for a time.

A too long time.

You find yourself leaning towards anyone that comes near you, having to more than once yank yourself upright in the middle of a conversation, apologizing to whoever you were talking to.

It’s worse with Dark, Wilford, and Actor. They smell so good, like home and trust and energy, and with your hunger rising, you find yourself avoiding them.

It takes a few days for them to notice, not like any of you were the clingiest type to begin with, since you all worked very different schedules at times, but this is just odd.

They try to confront you separately, but you just tell them that everything is fine, and leave whatever room you were in a little faster than perhaps humanly possible.

That buys you a few more days, and you are still struggling to find new blood donors as all three of your boyfriends find you staring down at your phone in your living room.

“Darling, we need to talk.” Dark speaking makes you look up from your phone, locking it and putting it away instead of throwing it at the wall like you want to. Another dud.

“Sugar plum, is there a problem?” You look between them where they stand by the doorway, they all look and smell more like a snack than usual. You lean back on the couch, but decide to try to play dumb.

“I don’t know what you are talking about.”

“Dear, you have been avoiding us for days, leaving the room whenever any of us come in and you have barely been home. You have been avoiding us, why?” Actor doesn’t buy your play, and you sigh, crossing your arms.

“It has nothing to do with any of you or our relationship. Just, someone who supplied me with something important can’t anymore, so I need to find someone new, but I haven’t been able to.” Dark raises a brow at the admittedly shady sounding sentence, Wilford grins as Actor frowns.

“Oh, sounds fun, what kind of drugs is it?” Wilford asks and you frown.

“What, no, that’s not it.” You rub your eyes. Well, now might be as good a time as any.

“Then what is it?” Actor pries. You look at them and note where and how they stand, Dark with his hands folded behind his back, Actor with crossed arms, Wilford with his hands on his hips. The best route to take if you need to flee is already forming in your head as you start your confession.

“Okay so, this is going to sound a little crazy.”

“The best kind!” Wilford exclaims and you level him with a look before continuing.

“I’m a vampire.” Silence as they take in the words that just left your mouth. Dark tilts his head, Actor’s brow furrows, Wilford just looks confused.

“Darling, you know-”

“Here, I can show you.” You pull your lips in a grimace, letting your teeth show, fangs going out to be on full display.

All of their eyes fixate on them, you wonder if they glint in the overhead lights, and then with a woosh, you find your lap filled with Wilford.

You startle, uncross your arms, and try to close your mouth, but you can’t, as Wilford’s fingers press against your fangs. Your eyes go wide, and fuck fuck fuck, he smells so good up close, fuck, you’re so hungry.

Your hands snatches his wrists, and yank them away from your fangs, closing your mouth with an audible clack.

“Please don’t.” Your voice is barely above a whisper, and you have to hold back the urge to bring the wrists in your hands closer to your mouth.

“But honey, I want to see.” Wilford god damn whines. Fucking hell.

“Darling, when was the last time you ate?” Dark seems to have caught on to the meaning of your earlier words.

“Too long.” Wilford wiggles in your lap, and you want to pin his arms behind his back, making him be on display for you, his neck open, and just devour hi-

“Dearest, let go of Wilford’s wrists.” Actor snaps you out of your thoughts, and with horror you realize that you are clutching Wilford’s wrist hard enough to certainly bruise and perhaps even break if he were a normal human. You lean back as far as you can, covering most of your face with your arms, breathing the smell of your laundry detergent on your sweatshirt. You can’t find it in you to shove Wilford off your lap, but you need to divert your attention away from him.

“Please leave.” You can’t see them, but you don’t hear any retreating footsteps at your plea.

“Darling, will you be fine?”

“Yeah, just, fuck, leave, this is like teasing me with a whole feast I cannot have.” A few heartbeats, and then there’s a wrist pressed against your lips.

You gasp in surprise, which is a mistake, since it fills your nostrils with the mouthwatering smell of the blood that is pumping right beneath the surface.

You rip your arms away from your face, once more grasping Wilford’s wrist and moving it forcefully away from your face.

“Wilford.” You growl out a warning, ignoring the pang of hunger you feel in your stomach and the pulse you feel underneath your fingertips.

“Honey, you need to eat!” Wilford pouts, trying to push his other wrist against your lips, but you catch that too.

“Wilford, you don’t -”

“He is right, you need to eat.” You switch your attention to Actor, still holding Wilford’s wrists away from your face. He steps closer while Dark stays put. “And we will not have you passing out on us because you refuse to do so!”

“I don’t, I don’t....” You let your gaze flicker between all of them. “I don’t know if I can trust myself, I’m so hungry.”

“I trust you!” Wilford offers, still trying to wiggle free of your steel grip on his wrists. Dark seems to once again be the one to catch on to your implication, that you won’t trust yourself to not take too much, and suck Wilford dry.

“How many, ah, donors, did you have before?” He asks, and both Wilford and Actor look at him, looking a little confused before you answer.

“Two.”

“And now you will have three.” You stare at him, letting that statement sink in, the hold on Wilford’s wrists loosening.

“You already share us is so many other ways, what is one more?” You lick a fang at that, your hunger rolling through your stomach as you think, gazing at the three of them.

Fuck, you’re so hungry, and the thought of all of their blood is making your mouth water.

They’re not fully human, but they smell even better, and the blood is flowing strong and loud under their skin.

You wonder what they all will taste like.

You want to find out.

Now.

“Yes.”

“Good.” Dark replies, and then Wilford’s wrist is against your lips once more. With your distraction, he had managed to get one free. He grins as you send him a half-heated glare, but this time you don’t move it away, instead taking in a deep breath.

He smells sweet, like some candy you have long forgotten what exactly tastes like, but have many fond memories of.

A gentle touch of your hand makes Wilford turn his wrist over so you get to the underside, the softer part. You see a few veins, and if your stomach could rumble, it would have. You lick a small stripe over the skin, hearing Wilford’s breath hitch.

“My spit works as a super fast acting topical numbing cream.”

“And what about another type of cream?” Wilford wiggles his mustache at you as you look up with a snort.

“You know it doesn’t.” Wilford grins, and the couch dips on either side of you as Actor and Dark sit down, turned towards you and focused on Wilford’s wrist.

You hold it gently now, more of a gentle touch than anything, your other hand on his hip to hold him in place. You don’t think he would move away now, but still you hold him there.

You nose at his wrist, and give him another lick, making him giggle.

“Are you actually going to bite him?” Actor asks impatiently, and you glance up at him.

“I can enjoy my food before I actually eat it, you know.” But with that, you do open your mouth, letting your fangs brush against Wilford’s skin for a moment, and then bite down.

His blood explodes on your tongue, and you close your eyes, having to hold back a moan at how good he tastes.

FUCK.

He tastes how strawberry cotton candy smells and fun all mixed into, so sweet, oh so sweet, but so good. There’s something more thrumming there, nothing that you can place your finger on, but you feel electrified, filled with power and energy.

You breathe in deeply, letting the smell of them wash over you alongside the taste of Wilford, savoring every drop of blood that passes your lips and down your throat.

You drink greedily, your hunger waning with every passing second.

Wilford doesn’t move his wrist, but his hips do, so you squeeze his hip and growl somewhere in the back of your throat, making him still.

You could stay like this forever if the universe let you.

Sucking down pulse after pulse of this sweet and oh so wonderful blood, but you are distracted by a hand covering your hands that holds Wilford’s.

You detach from Wilford’s wrist, opening your eyes and hiss at the distraction out of instinct. Dark isn’t scared in the slightest, instead just offering his own wrist with a raised brow, jacket and shirt sleeve already rolled up.

You take a deep sniff, and let go of Wilford’s wrist so you can hold Dark’s instead. Wilford makes a noise of disappointment, but is shushed by Actor.

Licking Dark’s wrist, you only let yourself wonder for the briefest of moments what he will taste like before you bite down.

The little noise of surprise that escapes you when you taste Dark cannot be held back, and you see both of Dark’s eyebrows go high.

Though Wilford had tasted something very close to human, just a little sweeter, Dark is a little further away from that.

It’s like that feeling when you drink a good carbonated beverage that you still want to chug even with all the bubbles tickling your throat.

“Darling?” You hum against his skin, pausing your suction briefly so you can lick at his wrist, still keeping it in your mouth.

“It tickles.” You offer, speaking against his skin, careful to not let single drop spill away from your mouth. Dark furrows his brow, while Wilford giggles, and Actor snorts. “In good way.” You assure him, focusing on getting more blood from him.

You suck, humming as you close your eyes, letting his blood flow over your tongue, tickling ever so slightly as it goes.

You’re slower now, not only because of the feeling of his blood, but you’re less hungry, a little more rational and controlled.

But still, you feel like you want to devour him, all of them in fact. You want to drink from them, and never, never ever can you go back to normal human blood after this.

You hope they won’t let you.

They taste so fucking good, it’s almost unbelievable.

But still, there is one more to taste.

Not needing a reminder this time, you give a couple of licks to Dark’s wrist, making sure to clean up your mess before letting it go. Turning your head, you find Actor kneeling right next to you, heavy lidded eyes going right to your mouth. You tilt your head, looking him up and down, in seconds his wrist is just inches from your mouth, soft side turned up towards you.

You grin, letting go of Wilford’s hip to touch Actor’s wrist.

Wilford tries to move off your lap then, but your other hand quickly finds his hip and pulls him back down, making him laugh.

Not paying Wilford much attention, you give a few kitten licks along Actor’s skin leaving a little red in your wake. You know he will get impatient rather quickly, but still you can’t help but take your time.

A little less hungry means you’re able to focus more, smelling him in all his glory as you hear his heartbeat get faster, blood flowing so temptingly under the skin underneath your mouth.

You place a kiss on his wrist, and just as Actor opens his mouth to say something, you bite down.

The noise he lets out is something close to a groan, and though you know it is not in pain, you know drinking someone's blood isn’t without its sensations. You would have to ask about that more later, since it’s different for everyone.

As for now, you concentrate on how his blood tastes. It somehow reminds you of ice cream on a summer night, the air filled with laughter and kisses, and the smell of fresh grass underneath your feet. There’s a hint of something deeper, like laughter turned into passion hidden away from prying eyes, and fuck, you love it.

You startle as you feel teeth and a mustache tickling your neck, but don’t stop drinking from Actor, instead clutching at Wilford’s hip as a question and a warning.

“Oh don’t mind me sugarplum, your neck was just so nicely on display for me.” You huff, but don’t stop him as he places gentle kisses along your neck, every so often biting down just hard enough so you know there will be a little mark there later.

You feel a hand come to rest on the back of your head, tangling into your hair, you think that is Dark.

Actor’s knees press into your thigh as he shuffles a little closer, and you growl at him to keep him still.

Through all of that you keep sucking down his blood, drinking greedily, your hunger lessening with every drop.

You’re still not quite yet full when you let go, but you are afraid to indulge any further, you don’t want to take too much.

You don’t want to scare them like that.

Or worse, hurt them.

You lean back against the couch, Wilford moving away from your neck so you are able to, his hands on your shoulders, one of Dark’s hands in your hair, and one of Actor’s hands on your thigh. Your head tilts back, and you close your eyes with a hum, licking your lips in satisfaction.

You might not have eaten as much as you should, but you were a lot less hungry than before.

A kiss against your forehead, the smell of Dark washing over you as he leans close.

“Good?”

“Better.” A beat. “Thank you.” For a few minutes it is silent, which is rare with all four of you in the same room. You enjoy the silence, gathering your thoughts while you make sure you haven’t missed a single drop of blood around your mouth.

You feel like the cat that ate the canary, and you’re certain you look like one as well.

Your hand not on Wilford’s hip had fallen into your lap, and now it’s picked up by one of them, a thumb brushing over the back of your hand.

“So how did we taste, and who was the best?” You snort, opening your eyes to find Actor holding your hand, looking at you with expecting eyes.

“It’s kinda hard to explain.” Actor just keeps looking at you, neither of the other saying anything either, letting you find your thoughts.

“Humans tend to taste kind of like one note. For example, one person tastes like mint, while another tastes like blueberry jam. With you three, ah, there were hints of specific things, but there were also the taste of just, feelings. Which, is odd, but I must say, more preferable. Like a delicacy. Like something every few get to enjoy.”

“Aww gumdrop, how poetic.” Wilford dives in for a kiss, which you are quick to return. You wonder what he thinks of the taste of the blood on your tongue.

Breaking the kiss, Wilford grins down at you.

“How often do you need to eat?” Dark, ever so practical, but his hand stays in your hair, fingertips massaging your scalp ever so slowly.

“I used to drink from the couple about once a week, maybe twice if I was using a lot of energy. With you guys, one time each a week should be plenty no matter what. Though, I will probably need to feed again sooner, I went longer without eating than I really should have this time.” Dark frowns, and you see him glance at the other two.

“Are you still hungry?”

“Well, I-” You lick your lips. The hunger was almost gone, but it was still there, and when you paid attention to it, like just now, it rears its ugly head once more. “Yes, but I’m fine.” Dark frowns, and you place a hand on his thigh as a comforting weight.

“Truly, I am, I can wait, I don’t want to push you guys too m- Mhf!” You find your face shoved into Wilford’s neck, the hand in your hair now belonging to him.

“Nonsense sugarplum, if anything, we are pushing you! Now eat!” You try to move, but Wilford holds you in place with surprising strength. Taking in a deep breath, the sweet scent of him washes over you.

“Are you sure?” Wilford huffs, wiggling against you, pushing himself down onto your lap to make a point.

“Yes!” Certain that he won’t move, you obey him, licking what skin you can reach while Wilford holds your head in place against his neck, then biting down, his blood once more flowing into you.

Wilford moans, and at that you raise your eyebrow, and then he rolls his hips against you, and you can feel his hard cock pressing against you. 

You stop sucking, but Wilford still doesn’t let you go, so you speak against his skin.

“You’re hard?”

“Well yes honey, I’ve always had a thing for biting necks, not like this is gonna stop me. If anything this is going to make it worse!” You huff as you can hear Wilford’s grin in his voice, but you go back to suck his blood, and roll your hips up to meet his.

Truth be told, you don’t disagree with him, and there is something very hot with someone trusting you with your fangs on their neck while they know you were starving just moments ago.

Fuck, there’s some trust there that you will have to think about more later, but for now, you settle on dragging Wilford down with your hands on his hips.

There is a rumor among other vampires, the blood taken during sex tastes better. Some deny it being true, others swear by long dead relatives that it is. You had never known who to believe, but now you will find out to yourself.

Wilford’s hand moves to clutch at your shoulder, every roll of his hips and yours making him let out moans and groans.

Another hand finds its place in your hair, and you hear Actor hum next to you.

“Is this considered playing with your food?”

“If anything, I’m the one playing with them, ah!” Wilford throws his head back as you move to nip at his neck, threatening to break his skin in a new spot on his neck.

“Oh, I am playing alright.” You shift yourself around a little, moving back from his neck, and stand up, holding Wilford up with no real effort. He yelps, then giggles as you take a few steps so you can press him against the nearest wall.

“Darling, have you always been so strong?” You grin over your shoulder at Dark and Actor,  who just watches as Wilford moves against you as well as he can, trapped between you and the wall.

“Vampire perk.” You can already see ideas forming in their minds, and there are certainly a few forming in your own as well, now that you won’t have to hold back in any way.

You nose along the two puncture marks against Wilford’s neck, where blood pumps out in a slow stream.

You use your tongue to gather it all up, savoring every drop of the sweet tasting liquid. You think you are already addicted. Wilford’s breath is coming harshly, you can hear his heart beating fast, the pulse under your fingertips and lips going strong. He moves against you, well he tries; since like this it is you who is in control.

He starts to mutter your name like a prayer, so you know he is close, and with that you speed up your hips, making him whine with pleasure, your own zipping along your spine as you take in the taste and smell of him as he comes, untouched by much else than your fangs

“Sugarplum, oh, we must do that again.” He says with a laugh, and you find yourself grinning where you lick up the last few escaping drops of blood on his neck. The orgasm hadn’t made his blood taste any different, but the smell of his arousal was high, and the fast pumping of his heart made his blood flow quicker.

So there is some truth in the rumor at least.

You pull the two of you away from the wall, and as if he was as light as a feather, you plop him down in Dark’s lap. Dark grunts, because though he might feel like one to you, Wilford is no feather.

You pay him no mind, instead turning to Actor, who has shifted so his back is against the armrest of the couch.

“Your turn.” Actor gapes slightly, then you are in his lap, nosing along his neck, a hand in his hair tilting his head back.

Now that they have given themselves to you, you are more than willing to take.

Happy that Actor’s robe means easy access, you waste no time in giving a few licks and biting down, gently as you can be while still breaking skin.

The robe also means easy access in other areas, so you sneak your hand down between your bodies, grinning at the moan you get in response. Actor’s hands in your hair tugs, but you don’t move away from him in any sense of the word.

Your fingers around Actor’s cock start to move, and every spike of arousal makes him moan, his heartbeat fast, driving his blood to you at an increasing rate with every moan.

“Don’t they make a lovely image Darky?” You hear Wilford ask Dark before planting a kiss on him somewhere. Dark hums, and you can almost feel the eyes burning into the back of your shirt.

Another kiss, and that gives you an idea.

You remove your mouth from Actor’s neck, your tongue briefly skimming over the bite before you shift around, moving backwards and pulling Actor with you. You let yourself fall, and are met with Dark’s solid chest and grunt from him. Wilford had somehow moved without you noticing, so you have to shuffle up a little bit more to get comfortable. Now Actor lays against your front, while your back and ass press against Dark, and Wilford has somehow ended up cross legged on the floor.

“Better this way.” That is all the explanation you offer, and then you get your mouth back on Actor’s neck, your hand on his cock. You pull him forward, making him grind into you and your hand, and in turn, push you against Dark. Dark growls, and then there’s hands on your hips, moving with you as Dark’s breath fans over the side of your neck.

He plants kisses along it, and you can’t help but find it a little funny that he has always had a thing for your neck, and it certainly doesn’t seem to have stopped with your latest revelation to them on just what you are.

“Such a tease.” He whispers, lips dancing over your neck. You don’t answer him, instead focusing on Actor in front of you, the feeling of his solid body, leaking cock, and warm blood.

Then there’s another hand that joins the fray, pressing against your own arousal, and you have to let go of Actor’s neck to moan.

Wilford grins at you from the floor, where he is now kneeling on the floor next to the couch, his hand down the front of your pants.

You lick your lips, panting. Fucking hell, they will be the death of you.

Truth be told, your head is starting to swim a little. You feel so full, but yet it is still not enough.

You want more.

You want them all.

And the pleasure mixing with it all is not helping matters, and though you have yet to cum, though not for lack of trying from either of their ends, you can’t come just yet.

You don’t want to end this just yet.

Well, not for you anyway.

Breaking away from Actor’s neck, you lick a stripe from his neck to the bottom of his ear.

“Cum.” With a gasp of your name he does just that, spilling himself all over your still clothed front with a choked off moan. You catch him in a kiss, and when you lean back his mouth is surrounded by red.

And though he looks lovely, there is one behind you that you want to turn your attention to as well.

However, you find that when you try to turn around, Dark’s hands on your hips stop you in your tracks.

You lean your head back, the angle a little odd, but you make eye contact with Dark.

“Dark, you will need to let me turn around, I can’t get to your neck like this.”

“Can you not? It is right there, just turn your head darling, there’s more than enough for you to reach and take.” He is an utter temptation with his low voice, but you won’t take it.

“Dark, from this angle, if you move in any way, I will tear your neck open.”

Reluctantly, he lets go off your hips. You know you could have used your vampire strength to pry his hands of you, but you need them all to know that you will never do anything to hurt them.

Well, too much, even your willing bite is wounding them. But they want this too, so you don’t dwell on that thought for long.

Before settling in Dark’s lap, you yank your pants off, throwing them somewhere to be forgotten about. As soon as you are back in his lap, his hands go right back to your hips, keeping you in place. Your hands tangle in his hair.

You grind your hips down, looking down at him, and lick your lips.

“You should have taken your pants off.” Then your mouth is on his neck, biting down as you roll your hips against him.

Once more his blood tickles as you drink, but you lap it up greedily, expecting it this time around. Dark grunts, and you realize you didn’t lick him first, so no numbing of his skin.

As an apology, you remove your fangs from him, giving instead small kitten licks around the holes they left.

It seems like he takes the apology, but he lifts you up a little. Then there are several hands between the two of you as Dark’s belt is unbuckled, and his pants and underwear are shoved down, so his cock can spring free.

With little effort from you, you move against Dark’s grip and roll your hips down against his dick, your own arousal obvious as you go back to his neck.

A weight settles against your back, Actor’s hands joining Dark’s on your hips. You hear Wilford giggle, and then there’s a hand guiding Dark’s cock against your hole.

You sink down on him, taking every inch in while never letting up from his neck.

You settle against him as he fills you up completely, his cock warm inside you, and his blood flowing into you.

Careful, as not to jostle you too much, Dark and Actor’s hands flex against your hips, and they start to move you. You let them, feeling so full and filled, blood and arousal making your head spin.

You sigh contently against Dark’s neck as you feel your pleasure build in tandem with every move of your hips and pumps of Dark’s blood.

Gentle fingers prod against your cheek, and recognizing Wilford’s smell and hunger long since gone and forgotten, you detach from Dark’s neck to look up at Wilford where he stands next to you. He cups your chin and tilt your head towards him, smiling.

“So pretty honey.” His thumb pushes against your lips, and you open for him. His thumb brushes against your fang, and with wide eyes you feel him use your fang to open a little wound on his thumb.

“Drink me.” You take what you are offered, even though the blood flow is a lot smaller and slower.

What is not, is Dark fucking up into you.

Now that he doesn’t have to worry about his neck, his speed increases, and you move with him, bouncing up and down on his cock as you suck on Wilford’s thumb.

Not one to be forgotten, Actor moves hand to dance against your front, making you moan as loud as you can.

You’re certain he is sporting a grin, as you can hear Dark huff, but other than that, he pays the other no mind. Focusing instead on chasing his own pleasure, and you’re getting closer and closer to yours.

“Open your eyes.” Wilford words are soft, and you do as you’re told, not even realizing that you had closed them before just then.

He takes his thumb out of your mouth, pressing it down on your now closed lips.

“Come for us.” In tandem with his words, Dark and Actor bite down on either side of your neck, and that is enough to send you over the edge.

You come with a loud moan; you are certain it reverberates off the wall.

Dark is not far behind you, a few more pumps of his hips makes him fill you up with his cum.

It’s so good, so much, so wonderful, so everything.

You have not been so satisfied in a long time, the sex was always good, but mixed with being able to feed to your hearts content and gorge yourself, it is truly something else.

Dark pulls himself out of you, and you sit up on your knees on the couch, not caring what leaks from you.

You lick your lips, tasting all of them in a small drop of blood that had gone astray in the corner of your mouth.

“Someone looks pleased with themselves.” Actor remarks, and you grin at him, filled with proper energy for the first time in days.

“Well, I am.” Actor huffs, Wilford laughs, and Dark chuckles. You take in how they all look, ruffled clothes and hair, also noting that without even realizing, you had bitten them on the exact same place on their necks. You lick a fang before making them go back to their normal looking selves.

“Ahh, I am sad to see those go.” Wilford remarks, and you grin at him.

“Oh don’t be, I expect you all to see them a lot more in the future.” You glance at all of them. “But now, I think you should all go the bedroom-”

“Round two and three sugarp-”

“No, Wilford, not that. I’m going to fix you some food, since now that you’ve taken care of me, I will take care of you.” Actor doesn’t seem to mind that notion as he gets up from the couch, tying his robe closed once more before helping you to your feet. Dark looks more skeptical, but before he can even utter some sort of protest or counter argument, you stop him.

“I will not have any of you getting sick in any capacity because of me.” Dark sighs, but gets up. Wilford hands you your pants as Dark tucks himself back in his pants, and just like that, you’re all a little more presentable.

Barely.

“Everyone to the bedroom, I’ll be there in a little bit, and if any of you aren’t, I’ll hunt you down. And you know now that that is not an empty threat.” You give Dark a pointed stare, Wilford throws an arm over Dark’s shoulder, grinning at you.

“Oh we’ll all be there, don’t worry sugar.” He winks, and you laugh as all of you leave the living room, them heading to the bedroom as you set your course towards the kitchen, hoping that you have the ingredients so you can make chocolate pancakes.

You will need to give them time to heal and rest, time to recover, even though you know they heal faster than any human.

But then, oh then you will be all ready to again taste and feast.

[withloveajaxx]

CHAPTER I: lost child

— SUMMARY: when childe is at a lost at what to feel and what to do, when everything seems to be going wrong and he can't get to you, he goes to the only other people he cherishes, his family.

— GENRE: fluff and angst

— WARNINGS: none

— NOTE: was really excited to write this because i've never written a flashback type of fic before hehe. to make up for the ajax angst i hit yall with, i now provide you with some sweet flashback domestic fluff <33 also i cannot, for the life of me, come up with a better title. please do not come after my corny ass LMFAO. anywaysss, enjoy <33

when childe decided to set out in search for you, he hadn't anticipated just how different everything would feel. 

things that always seemed so ordinary and casual felt like something he had never done before. talking to people, for example, used to be one of his strong suits. he was charming and somehow always knew what he had to say to get on the good side of people. he couldn't even talk to people now. 

any person who passed by him couldn't hear whatever he had to say. no matter how loud he shouted, no matter how frustrated and angry his tone had gotten, not a single person lent their ears to listen to him. even when he tried touching people to get their attention, his hands slipped right through them.

he didn't exist anymore. the fact that he was dead haunted his being, even when he was venturing around feeling completely fine.

the eleventh harbinger who was once feared by all, seen as one of the strongest and greatest warriors there ever was, was now invisible, seemingly forgotten. 

it felt horrible. he felt lonesome and lost, even in the homeland he knew like the back of his palm.

at the times he felt like this, he'd usually turn to you. but you felt so far and out of reach that for once, childe had no idea how to get to you. so, he goes to the next bunch of people who are closest to him, his family.

childe feels a wave of relief as he finally sees the familiar outline of his family home in the distance, the invisible weight lifting off his shoulders as his body relaxes. 

there's a small smile that tugs on the corners of his lips as he hears the childish screams and giggles of his younger siblings playing near the home. figuring that his family still hadn't learned about his passing, he cherished the joyful sounds while he still could. 

as he gets closer, he watches as they chase each other around with the widest smiles on their faces. even with how chilly it was in snezhnaya, the atmosphere felt much more homely with the sight of his siblings' warm smiles.

childe feels his smile growing wider at the fond memory that comes along with the sight before him. a memory of you the first time he ever brought you to see his family.

childe promises to be back before nightfall, pecking the top of your head goodbye and leaving you with his family that he fully knew could take very good care of you. 

he rushes through his work duties, wanting nothing more than to return to the warmth of his home and the relieving comfort of your arms. he brought you here to spend some quality time with you and his precious family after all. there was no way his work was going to stop him from doing that. 

despite being yelled at and scolded by his fellow colleagues for speeding through his work, he still came jogging home with an excited smile and a light heart. 

his smile only grew when he heard your familiar voice in the distance, coupled with the gleeful laughs and cheers of his siblings. his feet move by themselves as he practically runs over to where you and his siblings were, unable to hold in the laughter that bubbles in his throat at the sight of you tackled into the snow with teucer mounted on you. 

"big brother!" teucer exclaimed gleefully, clambering off you and sprinting as fast as he could to jump childe's open arms. tonia and anthon followed suit and soon, childe had three children clinging onto his strong form.

"now, what have you guys done to y/n?" he chuckles, feigning accusation in his voice as he tries waddling towards you with tonia and anthon clinging to his legs.

"we were playing tag and y/n said all three of us were it! we caught her in the end though," teucer states, retelling your embarrassing story to his older brother. 

"i thought they wouldn't catch me." your cheeks grow red and whether that was from the cold or your embarrassment, you wouldn't know. "but they definitely take after you in terms of stamina." 

childe chuckles and helps you dust the snow off your figure, snaking a hand around your waist and pulling you to his side to peck the crown of your head affectionately.

"well, it looks like you got them good." childe ruffles the hairs of his siblings before adding, "i bet you're all very tired. especially you, love. why don't we all go inside to rest for a bit, hm?" 

and with that you all walk into the home, sighing in relief at the warmth and the aroma of home cooked food that greets you.

the recollection of the memory fades as the laughter he hears gradually dies down. eventually, childe realizes his siblings were getting tired and out of instinct he approaches them. 

when his hand simply passes through teucer's figure, his heart shatters. when teucer doesn't turn to his call with the usual giddy smile it's like his world crumbles beneath his feet. 

he stays frozen in his spot as they each file into the house one by one and as quick as happiness had come to him, it was gone in a moment. 

silence surrounds him once again as he stands in the cold, the lonely feeling in his heart increasing by tenfold as he stares at the family home that seemed so far out of his reach despite it being right in front of him. 

childe didn't know how to find you yet, but he hoped he would soon. he couldn't stand this kind of feeling anymore and he just wanted to have your company with him once more.

— TAGLIST:

@tiredsleep @kazu-topia @pumpikun @weyheyjxlya @chamomileteahouse @astrxealis @yonaraee @primoredial-jade @souglias @catsfavoriteperson @sn-owo

[wingedblooms]

Hope shining in the Void

Part 2: The Light of Three Sisters

In Part 1, I explored various types of light using the premise from Rhys that, like the dark, it is neither wholly good nor evil. It comes in different forms and can be molded by the lightwielder to match their intent. In HOSAB, we learn even more about this concept of individualized or nuanced light:

“Bryce said, more to herself than to the demon prince, “I hadn’t realized they’d have individualized starlight. I always thought mine was only … brighter than yours.” She frowned at Ruhn. “I guess it makes sense that there could be nuances to the light amongst the Fae that got interbred. Theia’s elder daughter, Helena, had the gift—and married Prince Pelias. Your ancestor.”

Although they have a surname associated with the underworld (Archeron, much like River Acheron) and live in the Night Court, the Archeron sisters, like Theia and her offspring, have their own unique light. This light may have even been orchestrated by fate so they could act as foils to another trio of siblings (Koschei, the Weaver, and the Bone Carver) and counterparts for the three found brothers (Rhysand, Cassian, and Azriel). Although I wish I had gotten around to finishing this soon after I posted Part 1 last summer, I feel this conversation is even more pertinent now that HOSAB has been released. There are HOSAB spoilers throughout, so please proceed at your own risk.

In ACOMAF, we are introduced to the seemingly prophetic words of the Book of Breathings (BoB), which now resides in the world of CC. The chaotic half of the book speaks in threes and starts with this line:

Life and death and rebirth

The words of the BoB may be interpreted a few different ways. Each line includes a set of three, and each part of that three might represent a sister, such as life = Feyre, death = Nesta, and rebirth = Elain. Each phrase may (also) describe a particular sister. For example, Rot and bloom and bone is often connected to Elain since she is consistently associated with flowers. And last, but not least, it might refer to a life cycle that applies to all three sisters in general, describing their life as humans, death of that life, and rebirth as powerful fae. A key part of that journey includes healing; they find Hope shining in the Void. All three are valid and useful. For this post, I plan to focus mostly on the first interpretation as those three separate words—life and death and rebirth—may describe the light unique to each sister. This aligns nicely with the concept of unique or nuanced light we learn about in CC, which is connected to those who came to Midgard from Prythian.

While reading HOSAB, @offtorivendell reminded me that Theia (the Starborn Queen from Prythian) is named for the Greek goddess of sight and light. She had three children associated with different kinds of light: Helios (Sun), Selene (Moon), and Eos (Dawn). We only know of two children that Theia bore, one of them being unnamed and the other being Helena (which is a name that is sometimes connected to Selene, the moon). Bryce somehow bears Theia’s unique light, according to Aidas. Is this light connected to Helena’s offspring, who seemed to have stayed in CC, or the other, unnamed daughter? Is it possible that both, over the course of thousands of years, manifested different kinds of light? And if the unnamed daughter returned to Prythian to protect the people on the other side of the Rift, could she be that clever warrior from the ancient fae line that evolved into a human line?

“Clever, that Fae warrior. Her bloodline is long gone now—though a trace still runs through some human line.”

He smiled, perhaps a bit sadly. “No one remembers her name. But I do. She would have been my salvation, had I not made my choice long before she walked this earth.”

As @silverlinedeyes has suggested, could that human line run through the veins of the Archeron sisters? If so, that might also explain the manifestation of their different kinds of light—light that aligns with the children of the mythological Theia (Sun, Moon, and Dawn).

Life (Sun) - Feyre

Although Feyre is the youngest, she is the sister we come to know first. The first sister. Although she possesses power from all seven remaining courts, the most common light she exhibits is from the Day Court:

Faintly, as if some inner light shone beneath my skin, leaking out into the world. Warm and white light, like the sun—like a star.

Shining—I was shining bright and pure as a star. “Day Court?” I asked.

But there, deep within Day’s light … I gleaned it. A purifying, clear power. Cursebreaker—spellbreaker. The light wiped through every physical trapping, showing me the snarls of spells and glamours, showing me the way through … I burned brighter, looking, looking— Buried inside the bone-walls of the castle, the wards were woven strong. I sent that blinding light flaring once more—a distraction and sleight of hand as I severed the wards at their ancient arteries.

At me, resplendent and pure in white, beginning to glow with the light of day as the sun’s path flowed directly over me instead.

I released the damper on the power that I had unleashed in Hybern, my body turning incandescent as light shone through. Pure as day, pure as starlight. “Cursebreaker,” some murmured. “Blessed,” others whispered. [...] I let my glow spread, until it, too, rippled from Lucien’s bowed form. A knight before his queen.

So I bared my teeth and sent a fist of white light punching into that fiery shield—the white light of Day. Spell-breaker. Ward-cleaver.

Death (Moon) - Nesta

Nesta is the oldest of the three and the second sister whose story has been told. She is the second sister. The light she is associated with most is the cold light of the moon, the silver light of death:

But inch by inch, the scabbard slid from the blade. And inch by inch, fresh steel glowed—truly glowed, like moonlight lay within the metal. […] Iridescent sparks danced along the blade. Pure, crackling magic. The light danced and spurted as if an invisible hammer still struck it.

She’d seen a Queen of the Night. As merciless and cold and beautiful as the god Lanthys had wanted to make her. Death’s Consort. Death herself.

In the moonlight, before the silvered lake, she was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen. Nesta finished the eighth maneuver, and returned the sword to center. The light in her eyes shone brighter than the moon overhead.

Silver thread embroidered the skintight velvet bodice, the straps so narrow they might as well have been nothing against her moon-white skin.

Upon Nesta, this once-human female who had conquered death, who now glowed as if she had devoured the moon, too.

Rebirth (Dawn) - Elain

And Elain, the middle child whose story I believe will be told next, is the third sister. She is most associated with spring and rebirth, as well as the beauty of dawn:

Beautiful—she’d always been the most beautiful of us. Soft and lovely, like a summer dawn. […] Elain’s golden-brown hair was half up, her pale skin creamy and flushed with color, and her eyes, like molten chocolate, were wide as they took me in.

Elain at last slid into the chair near Mor’s, her dawn-pink dress—finer than the ones she usually wore—crinkling beneath her.

She set down the tray and wiped her flour-coated hands on the apron she wore over her dusty-pink gown. Even in the middle of winter, she was a bloom of color and sunshine. […] I surveyed the food she was assembling and asked between bites, “How long have you been working on this?” A one-shouldered shrug. “Since dawn.” She added, “Nuala and Cerridwen were up hours earlier.”

Elain had walked in halfway through. She’d been toiling in the estate gardens since dawn, and had been solemn as Rhys filled her in. Feyre had been unable to say a word. But Elain’s gaze remained steady as she listened to Rhys.

Her sister’s delicate scent of jasmine and honey lingered in the red-stoned hall like a promise of spring, a sparkling river that she followed to the open doors of the chamber. […] Her sister turned toward her, glowing with health.

Soft steps padded from under the stair archway, and there she was. The Faelights gilded Elain’s unbound hair, making her glow like the sun at dawn.

Their unique light might provide a necessary counterbalance to the dark. They are Hope (iridescent light) shining in the Void (darkness that gobbles up all other light and color) that a weaver of Fate, like Urd, created. As such, they act as a natural foil to the dark death-god siblings who, as @offtorivendell and I suspect, may be born of the Void like the Under-King and princes of Hel in CC. If the Under-King spoke true, beings return to the Void after death, and for the death-god siblings, that might actually be home. This connection to Void may be why the Bone Carver was also so pointed in his questions when Feyre described where she went after death:

“But was there anyone there—were you seeing anything beyond?”

“There was no other world,” the Bone Carver pushed. “If there was or is, I did not see it.”

“No light, no portal?” Where is it that you want to go? The question almost leaped off my tongue. “It was only peace and darkness.”

When the Cauldron took his life, it’s no wonder he was relieved: he was finally returning home. I also wondered in the shifting forms of fate post if the Cauldron was linked to Void (the darkness of beginnings and endings). It seems to be the dark womb from which everything is born, and those who have died can return through it, like a magical portal:

“Long ago, before the High Fae, before man, there was a Cauldron … They say all the magic was contained inside it, that the world was born in it. But it fell into the wrong hands. And great and horrible things were done with it. Things were forged with it. Such wicked things that the Cauldron was eventually stolen back at great cost. It could not be destroyed, for it had Made all things, and if it were broken, then life would cease to be. So it was hidden. And forgotten. Only with that Cauldron could something that is dead be reforged like that.”

But in dying for a worthy cause, did the Carver weaken his other powerful siblings? He and his siblings may be related to the Archesian amulet, a symbol of three overlapping circles in the CC series that provides protection. It’s the symbol the Carver draws for Feyre to explain him and his siblings:

The Carver traced three overlapping, interlocked circles in the dirt. “You have met my sister—my twin. The Weaver, as you now call her. I knew her as Stryga. She, and our older brother, Koschei. How they delighted in this world when we fell into it. How those ancient Fae feared and worshipped them. Had I been braver, I might have bided my time—waited for their power to fade, for that long-ago Fae warrior to trick Stryga into diminishing her power and becoming confined to the Middle. Koschei, too—confined and bound by his little lake on the continent. All before Prythian, before the land was carved up and any High Lord was crowned.”

Bryce wore this symbol in HOEAB and it protected her from detection:

Bryce zipped a tiny golden pendant—a knot of three entwined circles—along the delicate chain around her neck.

Danika went on patrol armed with claws, a sword, and guns, but Bryce’s daily armor consisted solely of this: an Archesian amulet barely the size of her thumbnail, gifted by Jesiba on the first day of work. A hazmat suit in a necklace, Danika had marveled when Bryce had shown off the amulet’s considerable protections against the influence of various magical objects. Archesian amulets didn’t come cheap, but Bryce didn’t bother to delude herself into thinking her boss’s gift was given out of anything but self-interest. It would have been an insurance nightmare if Bryce didn’t have one. Danika nodded to the necklace. “Don’t take that off. Especially if you’re looking into shit like the Horn.” Even though the Horn’s mighty powers had long been dead—if it had been stolen by someone powerful, she’d need every magical defense against them.

But it was to just unclasp the golden amulet from around her neck. “Here. To sweeten the deal. An Archesian amulet. It’s fifteen thousand years old, and fetches around three million gold marks on the market.”

“Says the female with the Archesian amulet around her neck. The amulet of the priestesses who once served and guarded Parthos. I think you know what’s here—that you spend your days in the midst of all that remains of the library after most of it burned at Vanir hands fifteen thousand years ago.”

“Danika knew the Archesian amulet would hide you from any detection, magical or demonic. With that amulet, you were invisible to the kristallos, bred to hunt the Horn.”

So, how are the death-god siblings connected to this amulet? Was it developed by the clever warrior who may have been related to Theia and the Archeron sisters, and was subsequently forgotten? (Hence, the similarity between the names Archesian and Archeron, as @offtorivendell has pointed out to me more than once.) Was it used as protection from or as a way to confine the siblings’ magic? How is that history connected to the priestesses, then and now? Have they intentionally hidden the secrets of this history, biding their time for a sign from Urd? Bryce’s landing in Prythian at the end of HOSAB could be that sign.

Is it also possible that the three interlocking circles are the death-gods themselves, trapped in Prythian as protection against an even greater foe, such as the Asteri? While I do think that Koschei has been set up enough to serve as the main villain in the ACOTAR series, the events of HOSAB have made me wonder how the crossover might impact the future plot. Both the Carver and Weaver—though neither are considered heroes—enter bargains with the Night Court and ultimately sacrifice their lives to help Prythian. When the Carver died, the Weaver felt his loss deeply, like a Brunnian link in Borromean Rings (three interlocking circles). These rings symbolize strength in unity, and when one circle is broken, the other two fall apart. Is it possible, then, that when the Carver and Weaver were killed, Koschei felt their loss just as deeply and was weakened? Is this the reason he appears as a shadow rather than in his true form? Will he serve solely as a villain or could he enter into a bargain like his siblings and help Prythian, and their long-lost relatives who are in Midgard, fight an even greater foe (the Asteri)? Or, equally concerning, was the protection that this symbol may have offered Prythian severed, lifting a protective veil over the world and granting access that was previously locked fifteen thousand years ago? Hence, the appearance of not only Aelin, but Bryce as well, after their deaths.

This ancient, interlocking symbol isn’t exclusive to circles either—there is another, referred to as the valknut, that has three interlocking triangles. The meaning of this Norse symbol isn’t as clear, but it may be associated with Odin, the afterlife, and his ability to bind and unbind. Derived from two words for slain warrior and knot, it may mean knot of the slain warrior. In Norse mythology, the Valkyries served Odin and were sent into battle by him to determine where warriors might go after death. He also had a spear, Gungnir, that would strike true regardless of the skill of the bearer. (Sounds a bit like Truth-Teller, doesn’t it?) This interconnected symbol, as with other knots, sometimes represents the unity between earth, heaven, and hell. Thus, its nine points may symbolize the nine worlds in Norse mythology. The three interlocking triangles most often form mountains, though they can also form a star. Is it possible that this interlocking symbol brings together both the three stars (that we see in the Night Court symbol) and the three mountains of Prythian, an ultimate symbol of the link between different worlds and beings? Is the eight-pointed star in the Prison, much like a compass rose, under the other two mountains as well? And is that where the portals to other worlds exist?

The symbolic union of earth, heaven, and hell may also be connected to the three sisters and three brothers, who create a balance of light and dark as @silverlinedeyes suggests here. And if she and @offtorivendell are correct about the Illyrians being related to the Princes of Hel, is it possible that their union is one of earth (mountain), heaven (star), and hell (demon)? Their powerful union, guided by Theia’s starlight through Bryce, may be what is needed to open the portals, release the armies of Hel, and create an epic inter-world battle to end the tyranny of the Asteri once and for all.

Together, they are a beautiful, monstrous blend of hope and void, life and death, and light and dark.

[writingintheshadowsforever]

Avengers Preferences: How They React to Seeing Your Powers Part 1

Steve Rogers- Dragon Physiology

Steve was surrounded by Hydra agents and usually that wouldn't be a big deal for the super solider. But those agents were dosed with a serum that gave temporary super strength. No one on the team knew about your powers or other form. You kept it a secret out of fear of what the government would do to you, and your family. But right now none of that mattered to you. The only thing you could think about was saving Steve, so without any hesitation you pushed the button to open the hangar of the quinjet. Both Nat and Clint shouted your name panic in their voices as you threw yourself out the quinjet.

You launched your body into a nosedive heading directly for Steve, a pair of red dragon wings sprouting from your back. At the last minute you threw your head as the flames started to build in your throat. A agent threw himself at Steve from behind while he was busy fighting off two agents in front of him. You caught him by the back of his shirt using your dragon strength hurled him into the air. His terrified screams is what made Steve turn around and his eyes widened in surprise.

"Y/N is that you?"

By now the transformation was in full effect red dragon scales covered your entire body. Your eyes were red and slit, and a tail lashed out striking an agent who lunged at you. You nodded your head at him before turning around to release a stream of fire at the rest of the agents. The ones that didn't manage to dodge in time were caught on fire, and the ones that did were still badly burned. Afraid that Steve was going to freak out you bent your legs and was preparing to take off. When he grabbed your shoulder making you pause and stand up right again.

"Hey you're just going to fly away without letting me say thank you doll" he said with a light chuckle.

You turned around to face him and was surprised but happy to see him smiling at you. His eyes were focused on your wings staring at them in awe.

"You're not afraid or anything?" You asked nervously.

"Oh my god no Y/N this is so badass why didn't I know about this sooner. We could've had so many cool combos by now-" Steve continued to gush about your powers, and all the cool things the two of you could do together.

You just looked at him, and listened until eventually you leaned forward and kissed him shutting him for a long time.

Natasha Romanoff- Weapon Creation

It was a true wonder that no one ever found out about your powers. They were easy to hide yet so obvious at the same time. You were the only one on the team who never cared to have any type of weapons hidden in your suit on missions. You never used the weapons available in the training rooms either. Yet somehow you always ended up with some random weapon during the middle of a fight, and you wielded it like a pro. No you weren't going out your way to hide your powers in your head your powers were impossible to hide. So you didn't need to tell anyone they could put two and two together.

You and Natasha were taking down enemy agents left and right, but it seemed like for every single one. The two of you got rid of another three would take their place. It wouldn't have been so bad if she wasn't running out of bullets, and her widow bites weren't busted. Meanwhile you had no problem cutting every single agent that within two feet of you with your twin swords. They looked different from the usual ones you used, but then again all your weapons looked different. Nat was starting to wish she had access to your weapon trove wherever you was hiding it.

"Y/N do you think you could spare a sword. I could use one or a gun if by some miracle you have one." Nat yelled jumping up to wrap her legs about one of the agent's body, and spinning to take him down to the ground.

"Here just take both" You replied sheathing your swords for a second. A agent came rushing towards throwing a large haymaker punch, you ducked under his arm and swung your leg out delivering a harsh kick to his gut. Natasha turned just in time to see a gun and a standard sword materialize out of thin air. Into your waiting hands with a grin you jogged over to her to hand the weapons off.

She glared at you with one of her eyes twitching in frustration. "Y/N have you been able to do that this all these years?"

"Yeah I can create and summon weapons" You answered confused as to why she sounded angry.

"You mean to tell me you could've just made me some new widow bites or a electric baton."

"Nat you didn't ask for either of those" You said frowning. The sword and gun vanished replaced with a new pair of widow bites, and a pair of electric batons. "Is this better?"

Natasha held up her hands as if she wanted to strangle you, but gunshots made both of flinch and take cover behind a wall. "Give me those after we finish these guys off you and I are going to have a long talk about this." She took the weapons from your hands and suited up. You let out a nervous chuckle pulling your swords back out.

"Babe you know how much I love you right." You told her.

Nat stepped out from behind the wall and shot a dark look. "You're still in trouble" was her last words before she disappeared into the fight. You let out a groan following behind her.

Taglist: @wandanatvoid @yelenabelovasgf @romanoffomixam @xxxtwilightaxelxxx @xxromanoffxx

[scribblertown]

Fates of the Fateless Ch. 4: Suspicions in Sarsaparilla

ao3

wattpad

When Grimshaw said she’d put you to work, she really meant ring you of every ounce of energy you have to offer. You were starting to think you and Tilly were the only ones actually doing anything with the amount of work that piled up. Sewing, cooking and prepping food, cleaning, ironing, grooming and feeding the horses, getting clean water from the stream half a mile away, you even had to babysit the Reverend at one point. Oh, and you better believe the second she found out you could read and write, even MORE work was put onto your plate.

We need more of this and that, but we don’t have the funds for this so we need to compensate for that. You’re doing this wrong and that wrong. No don’t do that right now I need you doing this!

It. Was. Constant. She would get so frustrated with you at times you wondered if she would pop a blood vessel. If it wasn’t for the company of the other girls pitching in on the workload, coming to your defense, and easing the tension you’re pretty sure you would’ve pulled a knife on the old crone. Or maybe on yourself with all things considered.

“Can’t you scrub any faster?”

“They’ll be clean when they’re clean, Miss Grimshaw.”

“Well, we want them cleaned by today, missy!”

Today was no different. You found yourself all by your lonesome on laundry duty while the others took care of more in camp activities. Seated by the creek, given a washing board, a bar of soap, and a mountain of dirty laundry. Miss Grimshaw making her routine trip back to you every hour or so to collect the clean batches. Looking forward to every precious moment you got to yourself.

“Stupid!” *scrub* “Grimshaw!” *scrub* “Such a!” *scrub* “BITCH!” Throwing down the unfortunate garment you inflicted your wrath upon in the sudsy wooden bucket. Straightening your back out with audible creeks from your poor spine having hunched for so long. “Ahhh… fucking hell…” your sinuses began to burn and your throat tightened painfully, emotions you’ve been suppressing bubbling up and overflowing. The beginning of what’s become a routine grieving.

“Fucking… Damn it!” a huff of restrained air, the constant dabbing away of tears. At least no one was around to see you cry your eyes out.

It wasn’t as hot in the early mornings, still cool from the freezing nights. A soft dry breeze would occasionally weave its fingers through your hair with it the distant call of a quail could be heard serenading his territory. Your pretty sure you’ve been with the group for just a little over three weeks now, it’s amazing to even think you’ve lasted this long. Even more amazing to think about how you somehow, by some miracle managed to travel into the past. Well… your pretty sure that’s what this is. Maybe you’re in a coma right now having a trippy dream sequence as you slowly decay in a hospital bed. Or maybe it’s like those comic books with alternate universes.

Whatever it is, it’s bullshit. What the hell are you supposed to do now?

Work, work so you don’t have to think. You make a grab at the pile of soiled clothes, a green button-down shirt this time. Undoing any buttons and turning out pockets before making the sudsy plunge. Pausing to take in a stain. It was dark. A reddish brown, splattered on the left side and across the front. You almost wouldn’t have seen it had the light not caught it at just the right angle. The way it was thrown against the fabric like the wearer was caught in a liquid explosion. Too dark to be a whiskey stain, lacked the smell of any type of food or drink.  It almost looked like…

Blood

-----------------------------------------------------------------------

Annabelle had been working on the same stubborn stitch work since the morning began. Course the little breaks to sneak a quick kiss and sweet whispers with Dutch certainly hasn’t made the process any faster. But he’d been out of camp for a couple days and she’d missed his warmth every second he was gone.

“What do you think of the new girl?” Bessie was at work putting the freshly cleaned clothes that Susan would drop off onto the line to dry, strung up between the extended branches of the mature Junipers. “She’s awfully quiet.” The new girl, (y/n), had only been with them for a few weeks now. It had been an interesting ordeal to teach her so much in such a short amount of time. It was a bit baffling at how little she knew. Like she’d never done a day’s work in her life.

“I don’t blame her for her shy demeanor. I certainly wasn’t very keen on gossipin’ when my mother died.” Her thin fingers weaved the needles back and forth swiftly, dancing across the worn fabric. “She’s awfully naïve, even for her age.”

“I’m guessin’ she came from quite the wealthy family. Her hands are too soft and delicate to be a workin’ man’s daughter. And have you seen her teeth? Beautiful!”

“I have to wonder how she came to us in such a state. She hasn’t talked about it, at all.”

“I did try to get her to talk a couple times, but she’d always find an excuse to change the subject. I’ve dropped it since.” Bessie left the damp clothes to dry and now turned her efforts to folding the finished ones. Finding her place next to Annabelle. “I figure she’ll talk when she’s ready.”

Making the final stitch before the thread became too short to continue, Annabelle reached for another spool from her kit. “Damn! I’m outta thread.” She’d been working on one of Dutch’s more pristine shirts, now missing the necessary shade of white thread to properly repair it. “Looks like I’ll be runnin’ into town.”

“Oh, what a shame! Clearly, you’ll need me to make sure you don’t get caught up in a shoppin’ spree.” Bessie settled a hand on her chest, eyes cast over at Annabelle in a sarcastic manner.

“It’ll feel good just to get outta camp for a moment. Been stuck here too long!” With a groan and a stretch of her arms, Annabelle stood surveying the other residents in camp. “You know what, let’s bring some of the others with us, no doubt it’ll perk up their spirits.”

“Arthur! Oh Arthur!” Bessie called to the young man who sat upon his old worn cot, scribbling away in that precious book of his. “Would you be a dear and go retrieve little miss (y/n) down by the creek? Poor thing’s been cooped up for too long.”

“Alright, but Grimshaw better not have my head for taking away her best worker.” Shuffling to his feet stuffing his journal into the safety of his bag, away from prying eyes. Approaching his trusted and actively excited mare, her dark brown eyes focused on his every step, ears perked and alert. “Hey there girl, you gettin’ antsy?” He received a soft whinny in response, her soft lips nibbling at his hand while his other was preoccupied at patting her long nose adorned by a white stripe that contrasted with her lovely dark rusty hair. “Aww me too, come on let’s go!”

The distance to the creek wasn’t far, but it was certainly a lot faster and easier by horse back. Arthur hadn’t really had a lot of encounters with the new girl, and when he did, they were short and not all that verbal. A soft hello or good morning, but it usually ended there. Whether from shyness or being too busy to really have a conversation, he wasn’t sure. She looked to be about the same age as him, give or take a couple years. Thinking back to the tidbits he over heard from Bessie and Annabelle, she was a little odd. Beyond that of a potential rich girl, he had his doubts about that. He wasn’t sure what it was exactly, but there was something different about her. A feeling in the back recesses of his mind and in his gut that caused him to feel a certain curiosity about her. Something… foreign.

Eventually his eyes found themselves on said woman, crouched and unmoving from her place by the creek. The sun’s rays reflecting off the shimmering colors hidden in strands of her hair.

He was unsure of how to approach her, someone so quiet and mysterious. “Uh… Miss (y/n)? The girls want to head into town if you’d like to join them-” She jumped a considerable amount, nearly made him flinch a bit himself. Eyes turned to him warily and wide over her shoulder. She’d been crying again. “Are you alright?”

---------------------------------------------------------------

“Are you alright?”

It was Arthur. The muscle, the young buck, a potential danger. A top a tall rusty red horse that towered above you, calm and curious at your personage. You realize you’ve been staring at him silently for a little too long.

“Yes.” You squeak out a reply, obviously anything but alright. Your eyes snap back to the bloody garment still in your grasp, tight and taught between strained fingers. This looks like it would fit Arthur. “That would be lovely actually…”

Arthur remained silent a spell. The babbling creek the only sound to fill the space before he spoke again.

“Alright well… hop on up and I’ll give you a ride.” His hand extended for your own, rough and calloused. Some red dirt colored the underside of his nails. Yet, his touch was gentle as he lifted you just behind him. Gripping the very edges of his shirt with your fingers tips for balance trying desperately to keep from touching him. His pistol seemingly glowed in your peripheral.

Shoot fellas as need shootin’

Dutch’s words echo in your head. Your mind wonders to how often you’ve observed the men leave camp, sometimes for days at a time. The quiet whispers between one another quickly silenced as you come within ear shot. Subtle glances over their shoulders to watch for you, only for you. You always felt there was something suspicious about these people.

“Ah there she is!” Annabelle’s dimples became extra pronounced as she smiled. She’d always been so kind to you. They’d all been so kind to you. Fed you, clothed you, sheltered you. Welcoming you into their family. “We’re all saddled up and ready to go.” She and Bessie were sat upon their horses, alongside them upon their own steeds were Tilly, Uncle, and to your surprise Swanson. “Considerin’ she don’t got a horse, would you mind comin’ to town with us too Arthur?”

“Sure, wouldn’t be a problem.” His sure coming out more like ‘shoa’, “figure Dutch would want me to keep an eye on you lot anyhow.”

“Wonderful! Let’s be off!” They quickly formed a line, leaving you and Arthur to follow from the rear, just behind Swanson. “My poor girl Peach here’s been just achin’ to stretch her legs,” Annabelle patted the neck of her orange tan looking palomino, “I’mma buy you extra treats.” She pressed a kiss to Peach’s head.

“You spoil that horse, Annabelle. She’s gonna be expectin’ bubble baths and chocolates if you keep this up.” Bessie’s horse was a dappled grey horse, his legs were a much darker shade that bled into his ashy torso.

“Oh, I don’t know, I think Arthur spoils Boadicea more than Annabelle.” Tilly’s was a rosy blonde, a white sock on each foot.

“Boadicea puts in a lot of work, she deserves it.” Arthur replied in a semi embarrassed tone.

“Have you boys been prospectin’ work in town?” Annabelle pipes up again.

“Sort of, we’ve been...” he pauses, you get the feeling he’s choosing his next words carefully, “picking up odd jobs here and there. Dutch wants to look into a nearby copper mine to the north west to see if the men there need extra hands.”

Suspicious

“Oh yes, he’s been talking about that for the past couple nights now. He seems awful excited about it.” Annabelle peaks her head towards the back.

“Cause he’s been ahead of the game with Colm and his brother. Apparently, they haven’t been all that happy with his meddlin’ in their affairs.” Arthur chuckles. “All the more reason for him to meddle.”

Suspicious

Uncle pipes up this time. “He won’t be so high and mighty if those two idiots decide they’ve had enough of his meddlin’.” Uncle’s horse was unique in the fact that it donned a lovely mustache upon its lip. “Our line of work ain’t exactly known for friendly competition.”

Suspicious

“And we’ve gotten into enough fights to know they let their pistols do the talkin’.” There’s a level of concern in Uncle’s voice, one you haven’t heard before.

“Ain’t much different from everyone else then.” Arthur sighs.

They’re being careful, you can tell. Deliberately stuffing the words they want to say back down their throats to keep you in the dark. You just know it.  Your curiosity gnawing at you, barely registering the next words spoken are your own.

“What kind of work do you guys do?” You can tell you’ve caught them off guard by the span of time it takes for Bessie to speak up.

“We have many trades, but I suppose you could call my Hosea an entrepreneur.” She emphasizes the last word with a little flare of the tongue.

“An entrepreneur in what?” you’ve caught them off guard again.

“Everything and anything! He’s really quite poor at setting his mind to one occupation.”

Annabelle quickly jumps into the conversation, a bit too eager to reassure the situation. “Dutch is the same way! It’s why they work so well together.” Well shit, that doesn’t really tell you anything.

You were so tempted to dig at them some more, maybe just dump the knowledge of the bloody shirt on them to see how they’d react. Maybe with the girls here, it would be less likely you’d be shot in the head for asking too many questions. But the sight of the town finally within reach caused you to hold your tongue for a little longer.

This town was bigger than Sandy Hollow, not by much but it had a lot more to offer in both people and shops. The heat from a forge blasted your right side as you passed a black smith, one man hammering away at his next project, surrounded by mining gear. An information desk could to seen with big bold letters that read Workers Wanted, inquire within, and with it a long line of men that trailed out the door and into the street. A saloon with a boisterous amount of laughter and music traveled down the street, women could be seen chatting it up with a good group of men, Uncle quickly became one of them. And of course, a general store that the rest of you came to a halt just outside of its busy opening.

“Ooo! I can see some lovely fabrics in the window!” Annabelle excitedly hitched peach before she quickly trotted up the wooden stairs. Bessie and Tilly followed in haste.

Swanson, who was ever so quiet the entirety of the trip down here timidly announced his plans, “I’ll be over at the Doctor’s office next door.”

“Back still givin’ you trouble?” Arthur inquired as he helped you down to the ground.

“More often than not, ugh!” He let out a grunt as he ungracefully dismounted his horse, stumbling a bit before he waddled off. His hand cradling his lower back.

A soft bell chimed as you and Arthur entered the store, a mixture of smells hit you the second you bypassed the doorway. Coffee, cheese, bread, tobacco. You list off everything that comes into your sight. Penny candy, chocolate, alcohol, cigarettes. Tilly was looking at a book that sat on the counter and Arthur could be seen observing the different kinds of coffee they had on display. You caught sight of Bessie and Annabelle chatting it up with the shop keeper whose arms were already overflowing with fabric spools to show the two ladies. An array of patterns unraveled and laid out as they smiled and pointed. I should buy some new clothes.  

“Um excuse me sir, but do you have any clothes I can look at?” God you’re hoping they have pre-made outfits here.

“Just take a look in the catalogue.” He was pretty monotone about it. Throwing his head in the direction of Tilly who in turn looked at you, a small smile on her face as she scooted over to make room for you.

“Gettin’ tired of the hand me downs?” After your horrifying first meeting and an array of apologies on your part, she’s been a lot more comfortable around you.

“Well, I feel bad having to borrow so much from you all.” Each turn of a page only showcasing more men’s wear. “I’d also like to have something of my own for once.” Finally, you came upon a small section of women’s clothing modeled by cute little drawings.

“What in the hell is a frock?” you whisper to yourself.

“It’s a dress.” she scoffs a bit “How in the world did you manage to survive before we took you in?” While you appreciated the tenderness the others had with you, you just couldn’t help appreciating Tilly’s nonchalant attitude with you even more.

“I wouldn’t have if it weren’t for you all.” You smirk, “I wasn’t exactly raised to live outside. Or how to do…” you wave your hand in the air. “Any of this.” You remember the look you got from Tilly the first time you had to ask how to take a shit in the wilderness. Or the ridicule you got from William for not knowing how to ride a horse. “It’s incredibly frustrating to be so helpless and… pathetic.” Your eyes catch a simple dark blouse that looked the least confining.

Tilly’s voice comes out a lot softer and quiet, just loud enough for you to hear. “I hear you crying sometimes.” Damn, and you thought you were being so sneaky about it. “More often than not.” You wonder if your eyes were still puffy from earlier. “Whatchu been through isn’t something you can just move on from so easily.” If only she knew how right she was. “If you ever wanna talk about it, I’m willin’ to listen.”

You keep your eyes glued to the page for a moment before meeting hers, despite her comforting words, the feeling in your gut is relentless. You’re not sure you can trust these people. Not even Tilly.

“Thank you, Tilly, I really appreciate that.” You flash her a small smile, “If and when that day comes, I’ll take you up on that offer. For now… Can you help me with sizing?”

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Arthur didn’t really need anything in shop, he did however give into the more expensive coffee. Curious to see if it’s worth the extra quarter. Now hunkered down on the outside bench reading the paper as the rest of the women went about their shopping. The occasional patron coming and going as he was caught up in the relatively obscure news of the somehow even wilder wild west.

Strange lights seen over the Clifton ranch followed by cattle mutilations, “not of this world” states Ashton Clifton.

A mysterious naked woman suspected to be in cahoots with string of robberies. “She hypnotized me with her bosom” claims deputy Alden.

Guardsman pass hotspot for local disappearances.

Collapse of tunnel traps 15 men at Bingham copper mine, “nothing we can do except pray they depart peacefully” Foreman Albertson to crack down on safety regulations.

Seems he and the gang managed to keep their name out of the infamous spotlight this time, over shadowed by some of the most entertaining and batshit crazy news he’s seen in a long time. Come to think of it, he recalls a real nasty looking storm passing over them at some point. Something unnatural about those pitch-black clouds.

Strange times indeed.

Folding the paper to rest on his leg to light a fresh cigarette a bustle of noise drew his eye to the saloon. A man had been tossed out into the dust, clearly beyond buzzed and stumbling to his feet angrily. The man hobbled toward his direction before struggling a bit to not fall down the wooden stairs that led to the General store. He reeked of booze and the sour acidic traces of vomit. Mumbling to himself as he managed to make it to the door. Arthur simply side eyed him as he sucked in a drag of the sweet earthy tobacco. The warmth filling his lungs a moment before he let out the euphoric exhale that seemed to melt the stress off his shoulders. Closing his eyes to relish in the moment.

“You mind if I join you Mr. Morgan?” A flutter of his lashes revealed the sad visage of Swanson back from his trip to the doctor. His eyes glazed and dazed. No doubt with a new prescription of morphine. Arthur simply nodded his head to the empty space next to him. Swanson took the invitation.

“I see you’ve taken a liking to morphine.” Arthur closed his eyes again, breathing in another drag.

The Reverend had the unfortunate habit of getting stuck in dangerous situations. Usually with bad people looking to take advantage of his naïve thinking. Other times it was himself that put him in terrible situations. A pattern of impulsive acts as a result of some sort of panic induced overthinking. But he always managed to get out relatively unharmed. Usually, the result of Arthur or the other members intervening in a violent way.

“It’s the only thing to relieve me of this pain.” The Reverend lets out a long sigh of relief, seemingly melting into his seat. Arthur suspects he’s talking about more than just his back.

“Hm… Just don’t make it a habit.” Arthur mutters out halfheartedly. The sound of muffled voices behind glass could be heard raising in volume. Just enough to cause the glass to slightly vibrate. Turning his gaze to the inside of the store he could spot the store owner panicked and nervous, his hands up, slightly hunched over trying to coax the drunk he’d seen earlier to put his gun down. “Goddammit…” Quickly snuffing out his cigarette under his boot he stood quickly. “You stay here. I’ll be back.”

“Just put the gun down Philip! There’s no need for that!”

“Shuddup yew-yew-yew basterd! If I wanna drink it’s my right!” The drunk by the name of Philip didn’t notice Arthur’s entrance, tall, broad, and angry. Bessie and Annabelle were huddled in the corner wide eyed and unsure of what to do. The new girl huddled Tilly behind her taking cover behind the counter, peaking out over the top shaking like a leaf.

“They cut you off because yer gonna drink yerself to death!”

“Hey!” Arthur roared everyone’s heads turned towards him, “If you don’t put the gun down it ain’t gonna be drinkin’ that kills you.” His voice low and gravelly.

“Shuddup yew dum-dumb sonnavabitch!” Philip turns his gun towards Arthur, swaying a bit as his glazed over eyes struggled to focus on him. It only took Arthur three good strides before he smacked the gun out of his hands clattering to the ground loudly before sliding out of view, swinging his arm back around to back hand the man who stumbled a few steps. The guy was big, fat and bulky. He had to of been drinking an excessive amount to get this drunk.

“I-I’ll show yew-yew-yew fucker!” he swung back, narrowly missing Arthur as the young man retaliated with a quick upper cut to the jaw. It was amazing to see just how smooth Arthur danced around each bulky swipe, jabbing and winding with such grace and professionalism before he landed one final shot to Philip’s nose bridge knocking him clean out with a loud thud.

“Holy shit!” (y/n) blurted.

“Well-I-I—Thank you so much sir!” The shopkeeper’s eyes flit back and forth from Arthur to the body now slumbering on his floor, unsure of what to do with himself before he visibly relaxes. Finally collecting himself to shake Arthur’s hand. “You saved our lives!”

“Naw, I just put a drunk in his place.” Arthur brought his eyes back to the lump of lard that snored on the wooden floor. “You girls alright?” Bessie and Annabelle quickly swarmed him gushing praise.

“Arthur you’re our hero!” Bessie planted a big smooch to his cheek before pinching them with a big proud smile on her face. “Hosea’s gonna be so proud of you!”

“Oh, we would’ve been full a holes without you Arthur!” Annabelle had a hand over her heart, cheeks flushed red from the excitement and pupils blown wide.

He could feel the rush of blood fill his face in embarrassment, “I-I was just protectin’ our own.” he cleared his throat averting his eyes to his shoes. Tilly’s feet came into view.

“You’re a real hero, Arthur!” she squeezes his arm in appreciation.

“Alright alright! If yer done shoppin’ let’s get outta here before I leave you all behind.” All this praise is suffocating. “How much we owe ya.” He asked the storekeeper.

“Nothing! Everything you need is on the house.” He was quick to wrap up everything up in neat piles tied with twine, the girls each carrying their respective packages out the door. Chatting away while (y/n) ever quiet seemed especially careful with her bundle, arms encasing it tight and close to her chest. Arthur followed her out last.

“Well damn! What did you idiots do?” Uncle managed to make his way over, of course only when the trouble has already been dealt with.

“Shut up old man, we’re leavin’.”

“Already? I was just startin’ to have fun.”

[whelvenwings]

Up to Date?

Length: ~5k Tags: Canon Divergent, Y yo a ti Cas timeline, Misunderstandings

It's three months after Castiel was brought back from the Empty after confessing his love to Dean, and things are awkward between them. They haven't talked about it. Castiel can feel how much Dean wants to, but he won't let himself, and Castiel can only wait. But one night, with Castiel halfway across the world, he gets a text from Dean that might change everything - even if Dean didn't quite mean it to.

Castiel

It was just awkward. Castiel couldn’t deny it. Things between himself and Dean were definitely awkward.

Three months back on Earth, safe from the Empty with a little help from the Winchesters and from Jack – but Castiel and Dean still hadn’t talked about it. The things that Castiel had said – and what Dean had said in return.

I love you. Me too, Cas.

Castiel knew he should have expected this, the awkwardness. Hadn’t he known Dean long enough, at this point, to be able to predict him? And there was nothing more predictable than Dean not wanting to talk about something.

Still, it hurt. There had been that shining moment of happiness, if a word as soft as happiness was even the right way to describe the feeling of absolute blazing corrosive joy that Castiel had felt when Dean had told him that his feelings were reciprocated. And now, there was just… silence.

It was awkward.

And Castiel didn’t know what to do. Was Dean waiting for him to say something? But Castiel had already said it all. It was Dean who’d only managed to choke out a few words, Dean who must have more to say. And yet he said nothing. Days were slipping past full of staring and loaded sentences and quietness.

The fact that it was all so familiar didn’t make it any better. Castiel wanted something different. It had been different before they’d said anything out loud, but – but there had been something about hearing Dean say those words, me too, Cas, that had changed everything.

He didn’t need much. Nothing grand or unusual, only something to ease the tension. Even if it was just an expression on Dean’s face that acknowledged what had passed between them, instead of pushing it away.

But Dean… Castiel knew it was different for him. There were things that Dean didn’t allow himself, for a tangle of reasons that Castiel only barely understood. Dean didn’t let himself touch. Dean didn’t let himself speak. Dean didn’t let himself look.

But Dean wanted to.

Castiel knew Dean wanted to. So many aching years that Dean had longed for him, and Castiel had been able to feel it like a prayer – and not some soft and murmured thing, a prayer of an older kind, something raw and wordless and desperate. Something on its knees. Castiel could feel the yearning in Dean. It would have been so simple for Castiel to offer touch, but Dean hadn’t ever really let him. And Dean still wasn’t letting him.

And Castiel could still feel the longing.

When they were together, and when they were several thousand miles apart, too. It was there. Never any quieter or gentler, not even from far away. It always touched the same place in Castiel’s grace that it had done from the start. And the feeling of it was just the same, too, like being doused in oil and dropped into flames that reached and hoped and hungered.

Beautiful fire. A beautiful prayer. Castiel wanted to answer it. Dean behaved as though he didn’t know it was there.

The tension in the bunker had become too much, last night, and Castiel had abruptly left with just a quick text to Dean.

> I’m going to look for the artifact Sam read about in Seoul. It shouldn’t be left unguarded.

The artifact was probably just a trinket, if Castiel was being honest with himself, and its significance paled in comparison to everything they’d been through, but it was a reason to get away from everything and give himself a break. It would have only taken Castiel moments to find the artifact if he’d wanted, but he drew it out. He walked rather than flying, pacing the streets of Seoul, following up on the leads that Sam had found. His grace hummed and sighed against Dean’s prayer.

He hoped that when he returned, something might be different. That he and Dean could talk. Maybe even – as he walked down a side-street with neon lights that glowed through the drizzling rain, Castiel allowed himself a wry little smile. Maybe even do something together. Go somewhere. Go on a date.

A date. To a human the word would probably sound little, and normal, and silly for an angel to be thinking about. But to Castiel, it just sounded like something new.

And it was so easy, somehow, to picture Dean coming into the bunker's kitchen, pointing at Castiel semi-aggressively, and saying, so. You, me, date. Up for it?

Would that be how Dean would phrase it? Castiel tried it a few different ways in his head. Down for it? How about it? You in? Each time, the Dean in Castiel's mind looked almost angry as he waited for an answer. Each time, Dean's face softened when Castiel said, yes.

So easy to imagine. So out of reach. Castiel walked on through Seoul, the rain starting to thrum down harder.

–––––

Dean

It was awkward.

Dean knew it was awkward, and he wasn’t thinking about it – he wasn’t. Except when Cas did stupid shit like ditching the bunker without warning, leaving just some handwritten note like a kid sneaking out of his tent at summer camp, it made it kind of harder to ignore.

Staring down at the note in the bunker’s library, Dean pressed his lips together and read it over again, his eyes scanning the words while his brain paid no attention to them, lost in thought.

There was something so ridiculous about it all. The moment between them, the – whatever it had been, when they’d admitted their crap to each other – it felt so overblown to look back on. Sure, Cas had had to summon the Empty, he’d had to get all deep just to save Dean’s hide. But Dean… what he’d said had just been stupid. No point to it. Dean cringed when he thought about it.

Me too, Cas.

The words were so little like something Dean would ever say that they might as well have been in a foreign language. Me too, Cas? That kind of thing didn’t have to be said. Because obviously, him too. But what were they supposed to do about it? Buy each other flowers? Feed each other chocolates? God forbid – hold hands?

Dean felt a little hot rush in his chest just thinking about it, and an accompanying stab of guilt. What were they, seventeen? They were old. Too old for flowers and chocolates. Too old for holding hands. And too old for this weird tension between them, Jesus. Who got nervous and tongue-tied and awkward around a crush at Dean’s age?

Who called it a crush at Dean’s age?

Dean, sat in the library at the bunker, dropped the note Cas had left and picked up his phone. Practicalities. Just focus on the practicalities. He should at least make sure Sam had kept Cas up to date with the latest research about the artifact that might be hidden in Seoul.

Dean tapped on the screen of his phone for a few seconds, holding it a little further away from his eyes than he used to have to do. He read over what he’d typed once, and then hit send.

–––––

Castiel

Castiel’s phone hummed.

With a little clench in his gut, Castiel stepped under the cover of a dark doorway to get out of the rain, and pulled it out of his pocket. Dean’s name was on the screen, obviously. There was the usual leap of excitement, tinged with a familiar sinking feeling in his chest. Dean would probably be angry with him for leaving.

With a stoic line to his jaw, Castiel opened the text, knowing it couldn’t be anything good.

> So. You up to date?

Castiel stared down at his phone.

No… no. He couldn’t have read that right. He blinked, and tried it again.

It still said the same thing.

You up to date?

Dean had just asked Castiel if he was… up to date? If he… wanted to date?

However many times Castiel reread the text, it said the same thing. Castiel stood absolutely still, his eyes puzzling out the letters of Dean’s message again and again.

It was – it was just the way Castiel had imagined it, if not word perfect. The brusque tone, the question. Castiel, half in shadow in a porch in rainy Seoul, stared down at his phone as if it had just promised him the moon.

Dean had just asked Castiel if he was up for dating.

Via text. Obviously. Maybe all this time, it had just been that trying to talk face-to-face had been too much. Maybe Castiel should have left for halfway across the world months ago.

Castiel could feel his heart pounding. He couldn’t stop himself reading Dean’s question, over and over again.

–––––

Dean

When the text from Cas finally came back, Dean snatched up his phone. It wasn’t that he’d been sitting and staring at it, waiting for a reply – he’d just got a little lost in thought, was all, wondering where Cas was and why he wasn’t answering sooner.

The text, though, when Dean read it, put a frown on his face.

> I’m so glad you asked. Yes, I would love to.

Wait. What? Dean checked over what he’d said himself in his first text, just to be sure he hadn’t made some kind of a typo. Nope, he’d definitely just asked if Cas was up to date with the artifact.

So, Cas would love to… what?

Cas was glad he’d asked about what?

None of it sounded like the answer to a simple question about research on an artifact, at all. Maybe Cas was just in the middle of something, and misread Dean’s text. Not something that had ever happened before, but still. Whatever.

Dean circled his thumbs over the keyboard on his screen, and then typed a reply.

< Love to do what

Keep it simple, he figured.

He sat puzzling over Cas’ first message as he waited for a reply. So glad you asked. What did that even mean? Was Cas ever particularly glad when Dean asked anything?

The reply came back quickly, this time.

> Anything you want to do. :) Maybe just going to a bar?

Dean squinted down at his phone.

Anything he wanted to do about what? A bar?

Was he losing it? Dean reread the text over and then over again, and looked back up their conversation to try to make Cas’ reply make sense. The emoticon was typical enough, even though Dean hadn’t seen a smiley one in a while. The way it made his chest squeeze was ridiculous. It was just a smile. And it just followed the words, anything you want to do.

Before he could let his mind run too far with what exactly that could mean, Dean texted back in confusion,

< You want to go to a bar?

There was something about this conversation that was making his heart beat harder. Come on, he told it. What, you can face down the end of the world more than once and a little text conversation still has you like this?

Ignoring his solid logic, Dean’s heart only raced faster when Cas texted back,

> Yes, of course. Unless you think it’s a bad idea?

So… Cas wanted to go to a bar? With Dean?

That was – well, it wasn’t that strange on Dean’s personal spectrum of strange to not strange these days. Fighting Death and God and God’s sister and all the rest of it kind of put a bunch of other strange crap way down the list. But this was still… weird. Not bad weird, necessarily.

But how had they got here, why were they talking about this? What kind of a bar, why? Dean had just wanted to check up on Cas in a few brief words and suddenly they were making evening plans? Cas was making no sense. Was he doing it on purpose? Dean read the whole conversation over again, and pulled a face of utter and annoyed confusion for the benefit of no one, and shook his head.

He thought about it, and licked his lips, and shook his head again.

And then thought some more, and made a hand gesture, as if asking of no one, what the fuck.

He texted out,

< What do u mean

He stared down at the text for a second, and then deleted it, and tried instead,

< Why are we talking about this

He didn’t even read that one over again before deleting it. He made another face, and then quickly typed and sent,

< But you’re in Seoul

However they’d arrived at the idea of going to a bar, it didn’t particularly matter when Castiel was thousands of miles away. Had deliberately ditched, in fact, which was more of an obstacle to them having a nice evening out tonight than the distance between them, but Dean wasn’t going to say that directly.

> Only for a short while longer. I’ve almost completed the search for the artifact. Then I’ll come back :)

Another damn smiley face, another little lift in Dean’s chest. Look at him. Fully grown, and soft over the idea of his best friend looking forward to spending an evening together. Yikes.

Practicalities. Dean fired off another text.

< Okay... you just wanna talk or what

If Cas was going to try to insist that they talk about stuff, well – the drinks would probably be a good place to start, but Dean would need to psych himself up to the idea of trying to explain anything at all that had happened between them. Me too, Cas. He kept hearing himself say it and wanting to bury his head in his hands. What had he been thinking. What had Cas been thinking, when he’d decided on Dean. That had to earn the award for the worst fucking choice in the history of the world.

Dean’s phone buzzed in his hands.

> I think talking is what people usually do on a date. But we don’t have to if you don’t want to.

Dean’s eyes went wide.

–––––

Castiel

Across the world, in the porch in Seoul, Castiel watched as Dean’s little typing bubble with three dot dot dots appeared, and disappeared, and reappeared.

He tried to quiet the excitement in his chest, tried to remind himself that Dean had just implied fairly heavily that he wouldn’t want to talk on their date – which wasn’t unexpected for Dean, but it did leave Castiel wondering what else Dean might want to do.

A thought occurred to Castiel about something they might be able to do without talking, and he swallowed, and felt his hopes fly higher.

Or perhaps Dean just wanted to sit together in silence. That would be alright, too. Companionship in the quiet. When he thought about it, Castiel knew it would be more than enough just to sit by Dean in a bar and drink together, knowing that they were both choosing to be there. Even if they didn’t say a single word the whole evening, even if Dean didn’t so much as look at him the whole night. They could spend the date speechlessly. But it would be a date. It would be an acknowledgement. Maybe it would ease a little of the longing that Castiel felt and felt and felt from Dean, burning.

Finally, a text from Dean came in.

> Wait what

Wait, what?

Castiel felt his heart sink.

There was something wrong. That tone, just two stark words – something wasn’t right. Castiel scrolled back up their conversation. Had he accidentally said something rude? He couldn’t find it, reading the texts over and then over again. He’d used emoticons to show that he was happy. Had they seemed sarcastic?

Did it seem as though Castiel didn’t really want to go on a date? Or that he wouldn’t really be content for them to not talk on the date? Hurriedly, Castiel began typing again.

< I mean it. We don’t have to say anything. I just want to be there with you.

It was the kind of text that Castiel would ordinarily type out and then delete because it was too forthright, too emotional, too much for Dean – but this time, he just hit send before he could think about it. Worse than Dean being grossed out by Castiel openly having feelings was the idea of Dean not knowing that Castiel really did feel those things.

There was a long silence. Castiel stood still, waiting for Dean.

How many times had he stood, quiet, expectant, wanting Dean to be ready, hoping he would be ready, prepared to wait for an eternity until he was? In the span of Castiel’s own lifetime, he’d waited just a blink of an eye. But somehow this blink had been torturously slow. A torture Castiel would have fought to the death before trading.

Castiel’s phone hummed.

> You really want to go on a date

Castiel stared down at the screen. He couldn’t tell if the tone was judgemental or vulnerable. He blinked, and thought hard – and then, with a little shake of his head and hard press of his lips, he made a choice.

Quite suddenly, the street in Seoul was empty.

–––––

Dean

Dean almost fell out of his chair when Cas appeared opposite him in the bunker.

“Shit!” Dean swore, grabbing the table in front of him with one hand. He watched as Cas tilted his head just slightly sideways at Dean’s other hand, instinctively on the butt of his gun.

He eased his hold.

“Could’ve killed you,” Dean mumbled. Cas smiled wryly.

“You could have tried,” he said.

Dean swallowed. Right. Angel powers were all the way back up, these days.

“You’re back,” he said blankly, just to say something, because immediately leaving the room didn’t seem like it would be a good idea – however much the nervousness in his brain was insisting that this conversation wasn’t going to go well, and he needed to bail.

“Yes.” Cas lifted his phone up to face Dean, so that Dean could read their conversation on the screen. Dean glanced over it. It was strange seeing his own words on the left side of the screen, almost embarrassing. “What does this mean?” Cas asked.

Dean got to his feet, feeling too low down still in his chair.

“Uh…” He watched Cas warily, while trying to keep his tone light. “You tell me, Cas.”

“No,” Cas said firmly. “You asked me if I really wanted to go on a date.”

“Yeah,” Dean said.

Cas stared at him, clearly expecting more. Dean tried waiting him out for a few seconds in silence, hoping Cas would say something else, but Cas had that determined look in his eye that told Dean he was going to have to be the one to say something.

“What about it?” Dean said.

“What does the question mean?” Cas asked.

“Well, Cas, it’s kind of all right there. In the message.”

“You just asked if I really want to go on a date,” Cas said again.

“Yeah,” Dean said. “So, do you?”

It was all wrong. His tone was all wrong. It was aggressive, and blunt. He sounded outright angry at the idea that Cas might actually want to go on a date, and that tone didn’t even vaguely map over the ridiculous leap in his chest at the idea of a date together.

But somehow, Cas’ shoulders were dropping, and his face was relaxing, as though – as though that was what he’d been expecting to hear. Or even what he’d been hoping to hear.

“Yes,” Cas said.

Dean felt his mouth fall slightly open and his eyes go wide, and he looked away.

He could feel his breath suddenly coming a little short. He tried to stand very still and be very quiet so that Cas wouldn’t see what that one-word answer had meant. How much it had shaken Dean.

It was only when he heard the yes that he realised just how little he’d expected to ever hear it.

Cas wanted to date. The hot rush in Dean’s chest was back, and the accompanying punch of guilt readied itself… but held back. Because Cas had said yes.

He’d said yes.

“Is that a surprise?” Cas said, his tone dry but not unkind. Dean swallowed, and managed a smile when he looked back over.

“Yeah,” he said.

“Oh.” Cas looked confused. “But… I told you…”

“I know.” Dean shrugged. “I didn’t know if you’d wanna do any of that crap, though. Human stuff.”

He saw something clear on Cas’ face, as though something that had been weighing on him had suddenly been lifted.

“Ah,” he said. “Well… I do. Want to.”

Dean nodded, once, a little sharply. God, he had no idea how to do this. And it didn’t help that he could feel things moving inside him, shifting, like walls crumbling, like stuff he’d smothered finally elbowing its way up to be felt – a blazing feeling, a hurting feeling, a wanting. Somehow both familiar and terrifying.

“Okay,” Dean managed aloud.

“As long as you still want to,” Cas said.

Still? Had Dean ever actually told Cas that he wanted to go on a date? Maybe he’d just been that obvious. Or maybe Cas had actually been able to guess what Dean wanted from the way Dean had said me too, Cas, even though Dean hadn’t been able to guess what Cas wanted in spite of literally being told I love you.

“Do you?” Cas asked, when Dean was silent for a second too long.

That wanting feeling, that hot tense ache that almost had Dean’s teeth gritting against it at this point, it was demanding a yes. It was saying go, go over there, what are you waiting for now? But Dean swallowed it. He couldn’t just have that. He couldn’t. Could he?

“Well,” he said. “I dunno. I mean. We are kinda old for it. Aren’t we?”

Dean watched Castiel consider it, his heart thudding.

“I’m fairly old,” Castiel said, “yes. But I think I’m still allowed to try new things.”

“New things,” Dean echoed.

“Yes.”

“Like… dating.”

“Yes,” Castiel said. “If you want to.”

“And like…” Dean went to say something else, and then stipped himself. Too many things all rushing to the front at once. Too many possibilities. Too many things that he’d given up thinking he could ever have. Too many things he’d told himself it was right that he didn’t have, because it’d be embarrassing if he did.

But now, here was Castiel, standing in front of him and saying he wanted to go on a date. Watching Dean quietly, waiting for him to finish what he’d started to say.

“Like…” Dean said, and then stopped again, and shook his head. “I don’t know, Cas. I’m not… you know.”

“You don’t want to?” Castiel said, the question spoken so neutrally that Dean knew it came with effort – Castiel’s muscles had to be heaving with holding that door open for Dean to leave through, if he wanted. But Castiel was still holding the door. Still saying, if you don’t want to, you don’t have to.

“No, I – yeah. I mean, I – yeah, I want to,” Dean said, saying the last part to the floor. His chest felt as though it was going to crack open. He wanted walk around the table between him and Cas, and drop to his knees, and just ask Cas with his eyes to touch him, anywhere, anyhow, gentle or not. “Just… I mean, look at us. Are we really gonna fit with any of that crap?”

He couldn’t imagine them trying to do the usual sweet romantic stuff. Dates and gifts and cards and flowers. So stupid after everything they’d been through, like sticking heart-shaped bows on the muzzles of two rusting guns.

“What kind of crap?” Castiel asked.

“You know. The whole schtick. Lovey-dovey crap.” Dean mumbled it, aware that even in describing it he sounded ridiculous. Lovey-dovey? Christ.

“I thought we could just try things out,” Castiel said. “And see if we can do them our way.”

“But what if it doesn’t work,” Dean said, making an attempt not to sound too wretched. He watched Castiel, waiting for him to give up, to say this was already too much work, that it wasn’t worth it, and they should just carry on going as they had been.

“Then we try something else,” Castiel said.

“Right,” Dean said, with an almost-laugh. “And we just do that over and over, huh.”

“If you’d like.”

“You’d seriously be okay with just keeping on trying forever?” He said it as if it were a joke.

“Yes,” Castiel said. “Of course.”

Dean went quiet. The expanse of the table between them was far, much too far. He stuck his hands in his pockets and nodded, because he didn’t know what else to do.

Cas saying that he’d keep trying forever was absurd. What was even more absurd was that Dean actually believed him. Cas had that look on his face, the one that allowed no argument, not angry or proud, just – sure. Certain.

If nothing they did together felt right, Cas would stick by him and keep trying new things. Forever.

Dean felt a part of himself breathe out, and with it went the last of the wall. Now Dean was immolating, standing still in the library of the bunker, just burning and burning with wanting to be touched by Cas, and –

As Dean watched, Cas’ jaw was tightening, as though he too were holding himself back against what he needed.

They stared at each other over the table. You first, Dean begged him silently. Please, just come here, just come here.

Cas’ blue eyes were locked with his, trying to say something Dean couldn’t hear.

“Cas,” Dean said, into the silence.

Cas watched him, waiting.

Dean’s mind was a blank. He didn’t know how to take this feeling, this all-encompassing burning wanting yearning feeling, and turn it into words. He didn’t know how to ask for what he wanted without accidentally putting it out of his own reach in the asking. He didn’t know how to want in the way that received, only in the way that was hopeless.

And Cas only looked at him and waited.

Dean opened his mouth.

“I don’t know,” he said. Cas’ expression flickered, but he didn’t move. “I – you – Cas, Jesus, I don’t know how to do this.”

“Do you want me to go?”

“No,” Dean said quickly, immediately.

“Do you want me to stay here?”

“Yeah. I mean…” Dean swallowed. “No.”

Now Cas looked confused.

“Do you want me to…” Cas paused, puzzling it out. Dean watched him thinking, if I shouldn’t go, and I shouldn’t stay, then…?

“Cas,” Dean said, “come here.”

Cas blinked, and Dean watched the slope of his shoulders change, watched the way Cas’ eyes lightened with a sudden hope. He watched Cas take a step around the table, and then another, slowly, as though afraid to scare Dean off.

Dean couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t speak. His hands were too big. He’d just asked Cas to come to him, and Cas was coming to him.

He couldn’t wait any longer. Dean moved, quickly, decisively, making for Cas as Cas came towards him, needing to be close and needing it now, and then – and then they were in front of each other in the bunker library, they were right in front of each other, standing with their hands by their sides and looking at each other. And all Dean could think as he looked at Cas was,

This is so heavy, it’s too much, it means too much.

And all Dean’s furiously thudding heart wanted was touch, anyway, no matter what it meant.

Cas reached up a hand, and gently – so gently – put it against Dean’s cheek.

Dean held his head up for a long moment, trying to keep himself together, keep it all in, be still, be silent. He gritted his teeth against the feeling in his chest, against the blazing of his happiness –

And then, he let go.

He closed his eyes, and breathed out. And leaned into the touch.

“I love you,” he heard Cas say.

“You shouldn’t.”

“I love you,” Cas said again, more determinedly, and Dean felt Cas’ forehead press to his own.

The touch of him was better than absolution. It was beautiful. It was perfect. Dean could feel the love of it running through him, easing the rusted gritty parts of him that had thought all this beyond him, and he wanted to gasp through the feeling of it like he was swimming through cold water. If he’d tried ten minutes ago to imagine Cas saying I love you to him again, Dean would have imagined it so sweet and unlike them. But this, this was happening. Cas’ forehead against Dean’s. Cas’ voice saying those words, I love you. And it felt real.

It felt like him, Dean, and it felt like Cas. This was who they were. This was how they loved each other.

“Me too,” Dean said. “Me too, Cas.”

He leaned forwards, and kissed Cas.

They didn’t go to the bar, in the end. They found they had enough to do without going out.

–––––

Dean

The next morning, in the kitchen, Dean turned to Cas and said casually,

“By the way, you never actually said. Are you up to date with the new research on the artifact? We should probably still try to find the damn thing.”

“Am I up to…”

Dean watched as Cas’ expression changed. It went from slight confusion, to sudden horror – and finally settled on a kind of dry acceptance.

“What?” Dean asked.

Cas came to stand by Dean, and because he could, Dean leaned forwards and kissed him again. His heart raced as he did it. Cas kissed him back, and Dean felt as though gravity probably shouldn’t be holding him down at this point.

“I, um,” Cas said. “When you texted me yesterday… I thought when you asked me that, you were asking me on a date.”

Dean’s brain took a second to catch up – and then he pressed his lips together to hold in a laugh. Cas tilted his head to one side.

“Don’t,” Cas said.

“I wouldn’t,” Dean said.

“Dean…”

“I’ll never mention it again.”

“I thought…” Cas closed his eyes, his head dropping as he smiled again at his own misunderstanding, and Dean let himself laugh. He reached out and put a hand on Cas’ shoulder, still a little tentative, still feeling his heart sing with the ability to touch. Cas leaned in, their bodies swaying together slightly.

“I love you,” Dean said, the words flowing up out of him like water from a spring, so easily, so naturally. He felt the immediate seize of panic afterwards, hearing those three words said in his own voice, out of his own mouth – but he couldn’t regret them, not when he saw Cas’ head lean back again, his blue eyes glowing with happiness.

“I love you,” Cas answered him. “I love you.”

[helpinghanikan]

DD Day 31: New Years (Bucky Barnes)

AN: Thank you all so much for going through the month with me.

It’s been a few years since your relationship has started. A handful of new years have passed during this time. This including parties you were both invited to but couldn’t make, or reservations made that had to be canceled, and kisses looked forward to that never happened.

It’s not different now. An hour or so to midnight at Pepper Pott’s new years gala you move from space to space at the party. Taking the place of Natasha who, like Bucky, was called away for an uncertain amount of time. Mrs. Potts didn’t seem to have a problem with it; just another vague face in a very expensive dress.

You look to your phone but there isn’t any point. The last time you got a chance to talk to Bucky were a few days ago. When he ended the call with a kiss to the receiver and an ‘I love you’, a statement you easily returned.

“You know,” The husband to the hostess slides up next to you. Tony Stark trying to be subtle as he looks over his glasses. “The master bedroom balcony has a killer view. And it’s pretty private.”

You stare at him for a beat. “Seriously, Stark? You’re married.”

“What? No! EW!” Tony says, giving you a step. “Trust me, Hun, the only type I have is tall, red headed, and can kill me with a look.”

Before you could apologize for the assumptions he waves his hand at you dramatically. “Just, stop by before the fireworks, okay?”

You do just that. Having to ask directions from the automatic house to find the place. Being allowed access to the, surprisingly, plain master bedroom. The lights still dark when you walk through. Staying that way when you ask the house to turn them on just a bit.

“I thought the lighting would be more romantic.” Bucky says from just a few feet away.

As far as surprises go this was a really nice one. Bucky, somehow finding a new three piece, stood at the balcony’s doorway. Standing straight as any good solider, but still having a kind of smile you ran to.

“Oh, thank you.” You said in his embrace. Unsure if you were thanking him or yourself for managing not to trip the whole night.

“Sorry about the secrets,” He says, pulling you up to look at his face. “I thought this would be more spe-.”

He’s’ interrupted with a kiss. You holding his face firmly to kiss him in time for the fireworks.

[soramei]

Intentional - Part 1

Pairing: Bang Chan x Reader (she/her)

Summary: Landing your first real job at JYPE was something short of a miracle. You were prepared to face the new struggles of this elusive career whilst moving to a new country, however, nothing could have prepared you for him. Will stolen glances, secret touches, and hushed nights spent in the recording room ever be enough for the both of you?

Genre: idol!bang chan au, forbidden relationship, coworkers to eventual lovers, slow burn 

Warnings: none right now, eventual smut,

Word Count: 7.3k 

Masterlist

A/N: hey yall this is my first ff im posting on tumblr :D im kinda scared to post but i hope anybody who stumbles on lil ol’ me will join me along the way :) also important!!! i made oc/reader asian cus i am lol (and this whole thing is basically a glorified self insert) so plz keep this in mind when reading!! oh god i didnt realize how slow this first part was sry... 

The cold silence of the room felt like stabs at your inside. You commanded your feet to stop bouncing up and down as you unconsciously started to bite off the dead skin of your bottom lip. The white corporate light from above reflected off your brand new lanyard hanging delicately from your neck. You felt the coarse blue fabric rub against your neck as you mindlessly fiddled with your lanyard; the newly printed photo of your face stared back at you with a smile. 

The creak of the door to your left was what broke you from your nervous fidgets. Whipping your head up from your lanyard, you immediately stood up ready to bow to whoever came through that door. 

It was a girl. She looked around the same age as you, if not older. Her attire was what gave her away. Her appearance essentially mirrored yours: hair tied back into a ponytail with a white blouse and black work pants. She also had the familiar blue ‘JYPE’ labeled strap hanging from her neck. 

“Hello,” you spoke meekly, scared to disturb the cold silence that had a hold on the room you were in. 

“Hello,” she replied. “My name is Choi Na-eun, I’m the new social media strategist intern and today is my first day.”

This is so relieving, you thought, another newbie to share the stress with me. 

“This is my first day too,” you perked up, “I’ll be starting as the new junior Chinese marketing assistant.” 

Getting the acceptance email from JYP Entertainment was definitely a high point in your life. The feeling of butterflies swarming your insides as you clicked the email open only to see your acceptance was immediately locked as a core memory. All the years of memorizing thousands of Korean and English vocabulary flashcards, the panic attacks before your finance exams, and the many, many late night coffee breaks were worth it the moment you received your first legitimate job offer, and from the esteemed JYP Entertainment company no less. 

“Chinese marketing?” Na-eun asked. “So you aren’t from here, I take it.” 

You shook your head. “I am from China. I completed my degree a while ago with a major in Language and a minor in Business. To be honest, I’ve done internships back home, but it’s been my dream to move to a new country.”

All of what you said was true. Up until now, your surroundings have never changed in all of your twenty-three years living. From the walk with your grandmother to daycare to the vast campus of your university, the view of your city has never changed. Your social circle stayed stagnant since you were able to talk and your love life was — for a lack of a better word — uneventful. 

It wasn’t until the day you decided to start applying for careers outside your home country that you felt hopeful. Hopeful that you could find an escape from your inert lifestyle and escape the burnout and stress that has been building up over the years. And so, on a day when you were feeling unusually confident, you gathered up the courage and spent hours sending out applications to organizations all over Asia that pertained to your specific degree. The applications were mainly for small jobs at small companies, however, your strange spike of motivation gave you the confidence to apply to the everso esteemed JYP Entertainment located in Korea. Of course you knew about this company — you and your friends played songs by ‘Twice’ nonstop back in highschool — but you didn’t realize the full power that this company had on the entertainment market until you did your full research. To say that you thought you had no chance was an understatement. This application was so far of a reach that you purposefully forced your mind to erase all memory of even applying. 

However, with your education, your work experience, and whatever tiny bit of luck you had, you somehow made it through the initial application process. Then the next. And the next. Then the interview. And now, you were nervously sitting in this white painted room with Na-eun, in a completely new country, waiting for your manager to come greet you. 

“So you’re from China? You’ve got to teach me chinese sometime.” Na-eun smiled. 

You giggled in return while nodding your head. You were relieved that you’ve met a potential friend so early in your career in this company. This was one of your big worries. With your social circle being so stagnant for the majority of your life back in China, you rarely had the opportunity to meet new people, much less make new friends. 

You were about to inquire more into Na-eun’s life when the door to your left abruptly opened. In the blink of an eye, three new people strutted in — two women and one man. They seemed to be higher status than you and Na-eun judging by their attire. All three were styled in some type of blazer and dress pants and there was no lanyard to be found on any of them. 

“Hello new employees,” the man greeted. Judging by his face, he looked to be in his late thirties at the least. His hair was styled back neatly and his lips slanted up, giving him a fox-like appearance. “I am Executive Manager Kim. Joined beside me on the left is Social Media Manager An and to my right is Marketing Manager Chen.” 

Both you and Na-eun immediately stood up to bow and introduce yourselves. 

“Hello. My name is Choi Na-eun, I’m the new social media strategist intern.” Na-eun said. 

“Hello. My name is y/n, I’m the new junior Chinese marketing assistant.” You repeated after her, copying exactly what she said. You did not want to screw anything up on your first day, especially your first impression. 

Manager Kim reached over to Na-eun, introducing himself and giving her a firm handshake. He then slowly moved over to you, and reached for your hand. 

“Y/n,” he gave time for your name to settle on his tongue as he gave a sly smile. “You’re not from here, aren't you?”

You shook your head ‘no’. “No, sir. I’m from China where I studied language and business. I hope to do well here as the Chinese marketing assistant.” You replied, mentally cursing yourself for sounding so timid. 

“I’m glad to hear,” Manager Kim chuckled, “I’m sure you’ll treat me and your other managers well.”

You felt an uncomfortable shiver pass through you as he brushed his thumb along your hand before letting go. This feeling was excused as nervousness, after all, this was your first day and your first time meeting your higher-ups. 

You introduced yourself to Manager Chen, assuming that she would be the one you were to assist in your time here at JYPE. Judging by her last name, you presumed that she was Chinese as well. 

“Forgive me for being so straight up Manager Chen, but are you Chinese?” You asked. 

“That is alright, y/n,” she smiled, “I’m not. My Husband is, but I’ve lived in China for more than half my life. I don’t want to brag, but my mandarin has gotten proficient over the past decade or so.”

Proficient? It’s amazing. You thought. This first day was turning out better than you thought. Other than the weird feeling you received from Manager Kim, everything was turning out splendid. A potential friend and a manager that could speak your first language.

“Since it’s about noon right now,” Manager Kim took a look at his watch, “What do you all think about some lunch?” 

The other managers nod their heads in agreement and gestures for you and Na-eun to follow them out of the waiting room you were in for so long. 

The whole building seemed so clean. With every corner lit, by natural light or artificial light, you could clearly see that every room, every piece of furniture and decor had been purposefully placed. You couldn’t help but have a stupid look of awe plastered on your face as you mindlessly follow your superiors over to the cafeteria.  

You turned your head over to Na-eun and gave her a tilt of the eyebrow, silently saying wow, this is where we work. 

With the turn of a corner and several silent strides, your little group made it to the cafeteria. 

The difference between your claustrophobic waiting room and this vast room was astonishing. With countless tables and romantic yellow lighting, this place almost resembled a five star restaurant. You’ve never seen a cafeteria as extravagant and clean as this before. However, to be fair, you’ve never had the experience of working with such a large corporation before. 

The managers led you to the serving station where you grabbed yourself a tray and proceeded to spoon small portions of rice and side dishes onto your plate. This cuisine was different to what you were used to, but nonetheless looked delicious. You were prepared for the small cultural differences, especially with the food, but from everything you’ve witnessed so far, the culture shock would be easier to overcome than what you’ve anticipated. 

“Have this soup y/n,” Manager Kim’s grating voice came from in front of you, interrupting your inner monologue. “It’s good for your complexion.” 

As Manager Kim hands over the bowl of soup, you feel the sleeve of his blazer brush up against your shoulder, causing the pit of your stomach to drop.

First day nerves. That was what this feeling was. You thought. 

You quietly thanked him with a small nod and walked briskly from the service line, trying to find where Na-eun went with the other two managers. Thankfully, they were just a step away and you quickly made your way over to the comfortable spot beside Na-eun. She gave you a small grin and you both followed your way to a table right in the middle of the room. 

Soon, all five chairs of the table got filled and sounds of chopsticks tapping and scraping against plates and bowls filled your ears. An awkward silence dominates your table as you start to pick at your food. 

“So,” Manager Chen cleared her throat, “after lunch I was thinking we should go to a meeting room and discuss Miss. Y/n’s role in our new project.”

“I was thinking the same for our new Intern Choi.” Manager An cut in, “What do you think, Manager Kim?” 

“It all sounds good. I will be accompanying Manager Chen to her meeting room as I wish to also further discuss the preliminary steps for our project.” Manager Kim looked from Manager Chen over to you. 

“Project?” You ask. 

“We’ve had a very successful year with our idol groups and we wanted to ride this success and start marketing in China. Recently, we’ve noticed a very large and growing Chinese audience for this group. I’m sure you’re very curious now, however we can discuss further details once we are in the meeting room.” Manager Chen replies while taking a sip of the water in her glass. 

Manager Chen appeared to be a very professional and respectable woman. With prominent collarbones and wide shoulders, she easily looked the part of a confident and adored manager. She needed minimal makeup to highlight her tall cheekbones, and even with a short heel on her feet she seemed to tower over you. However, her warm and comforting voice was what broke her intimidating demeanour. Just listening to her voice felt like you were back in your high school classroom with your favourite teacher explaining the motif of a sad love poem. 

After some more awkward conversations mixed with a few work discussions, the five of you finished the delicious food on your trays. 

“Please excuse me whilst I head to the restroom” Na-eun spoke up after your group finished clearing the table. 

“Please excuse me as well.” You quickly followed, bowing as you both ventured off to the washrooms. 

I should get her number so I’m not completely a loner in this place, you thought to yourself. And so, after a quick inner struggle to speak up, you finally decided to ask. 

“Hey, should we exchange contacts? I don’t wanna look like the newbie eating in the cafeteria alone after today.” You chuckled. 

“Totally!” Na-eun beamed. “I was actually thinking the same thing…” 

And so, you both quickly exchanged each other's contact as you made your way to the restrooms. 

The hall of the washrooms were narrow, hidden away from the main cafeteria. You walked in, deciding you only wanted to retouch your hair and makeup before your first official meeting. You carefully fix the loose hairs that somehow escaped the confines of your elastic and dab on a fresh layer of foundation before applying your lipstick which rubbed off while eating. Looking over at Na-eun, you see she’s quite in the zone redoing her mascara. 

“Hey, I’ll just wait for you in the hall.” You said. 

Na-eun gave you a disinterested nod back as she kept focusing on her mascara. 

You walked to the end of the hall, leaned against the wall, and pulled out your phone. Smiling, you opened the virtual Tamagotchi app and saw your little friend staring back at you, bouncing up and down. The bundle of virtual pixels happily bounced as you fed and bathed it, making you happier in return. Playing this game, you were so entranced with your phone that the abrupt closing of the washroom doors broke you out of your hypnosis fast, causing you to flinch and drop your phone. 

You looked up, only to see a brown haired man wearing a long sleeved black shirt. The hem of his sleeve fell, covering his hand as he bent down to pick up your phone. He stood back up, fully facing you now and you immediately recognized who he was. You weren’t a fool, of course you did all your research on the artists of JYPE before applying for the job. Looking down at you right now, holding your phone in his hand, was Bang Chan of Stray Kids. 

The wispy tufts of his brown hair bounced over his forehead as he stepped over to you. He smiled, his dimple poking out of his cheek, and handed your phone back to you. “I think you dropped this.”  

Blushing tomato red, you embarrassingly accepted the phone, trying not to make your shaking hands noticeable. It seemed like that failed, however, as you noticed him glance at your hands and dimple grow deeper. 

“Thank you.” You meekly chirped and lowered your head, still in awe that you somehow bumped into a JYPE idol in the bathroom hallway of a cafeteria. 

“It’s good that there’s no cracks.” Bang Chan said, looking in your eyes. 

You looked back into his eyes. His smile never left his face, and you physically felt the warmth radiating off his body like rays from the sun. Some boring, objective part of your brain knew this interaction only lasted a fraction of a second, but you swore that time froze.

“Hyung!” A distant voice called. 

Your trance was broken as Bang Chan looked over to the person calling his name. He turned back to you, politely bowed, and casually sauntered over to the man who called him. 

What just happened? Your inner monologue ran, still trying to process the embarrassing interaction. The scent of his cologne lingered, swirling the atmosphere around your body. 

Thankfully, you didn’t have too much time to dwell on this interaction as Na-eun finally opened the washroom doors and was making her way toward you. 

You and Na-eun trailed behind the managers until you reached the set of elevators. It was there where you had to unfortunately separate from your comfort work buddy as she hopped in the elevator across from yours with Manager An. The other two managers led you to the elevator at the end and pressed the button for your destination floor. The ride in the elevator was silent. You stood there, fiddling with your nails. 

Once the elevator gave the ding of arrival, the three of you headed down a hall where you presumed had the meeting room. 

Manager Kim took a look at the watch on his wrist. “We are a minute late, everybody should be there already. Enter silently and respectfully.” He said in a stern voice.

You reached the frosted glass door of the meeting room and entered through the already opened door. The managers followed behind you with Manager Chen being the last one in and closing the door. 

Your eyes widened at whom you saw.

There was Bang Chan, who sat in all his glory, staring right into your eyes with his mouth ajar. His shocked expression didn't last long, however, as he quickly composed himself to fit with the professional atmosphere of this room. 

But why was he here? You thought. He’s an artist, isn’t this a management meeting? 

Your inner monologue was broken by Manager Kim’s stern voice. “Y/n, why don’t you sit with me for today?” He asked with a slight tilt of the lips. His hand was hovering above your back, almost guiding you to the seat just right of the head chair. 

Your heart rate quickened. There was no way that you could handle sitting right beside a high position manager on your first day. You barely knew what your duties entailed, you definitely could not handle the pressure of this seat today. You whipped your head around to look for Manager Chen. She was already sitting in her seat, looking like she was right at home. 

“Manager Kim, if you don’t mind, I would like to sit in this position for today, '' a voice spoke up, “I have a lot of new ideas I’d like to share that are written in my notes.” 

Bang Chan.

He paused a brief second, eyes switching between you and Manager Kim, and raised his iPad to show the screen filled with words. 

“I don’t mind at all, go ahead.” Manager Kim monotonously replied. He then made his way to the head chair. 

You looked over at Bang Chan, trying to subtly send the most grateful facial expression over to him. He returned your look, slightly grinning as his fingers tapped on the screen of his iPad and sat down to the right of Manager Kim. You looked over to see Manager Chen gesturing you to sit in the chair beside her and swiftly made your way over. At your seat, she handed you a notepad and pen, both adorned with the JYPE logo. 

“Now, as of 1:02 p.m., September first, the meeting will officially begin.” Manager Kim clasped his hands together on top of the table. “As most of you already know, we are in the preliminary stages of planning a Chinese debut for our artist group ‘Stray Kids’. All we have right now is the estimated timeline, which is four months. We have a basic grasp of the concept we are working towards, however, as you all know, trends are always changing and growing. While we are working to create a new and original concept for Stray Kids, we also want the concept to gather as much audience reception as possible.” 

Wow. That was a lot to take in. Your hands struggled to keep up with writing down what Manager Kim was saying. You knew this relatively new group was really starting to explode in the past year, but a debut in another country? This group must work really hard to even have the company consider a step as risky as this. So this is why Bang Chan is also involved in this meeting. 

You peaked your head up from your notepad. Bang Chan sat across from you, one hand on his chin and the other one holding the pen to his tablet. 

Manager Kim then carefully discussed the duties that each group in the room would take. Many of the jobs were directly involved with developing the concept itself, such as producing music, concept art, and theme development. Your pen never took a break from gliding on the notepad as you hurriedly jotted down everything that Manager Kim said. 

Eventually, Manager Kim’s delegations moved to Manager Chen. “Manager Chen, I’ll let you take over from here.” 

“Thank you Manager Kim,” Manager Chen cleared her throat. “While my main job here was to market Korean comebacks towards the Chinese audience, this new project changes things up a bit. Now, not only will I be in charge of marketing to the Chinese audience, but I will also be directly in charge of the concept itself. I will be working carefully with our team in China to monitor the trends which we can incorporate into our debut.

“This is my new assistant, y/n,” She turned and gestured to you. You politely nodded your head. “She will be gathering information on useful trends and reporting back to me, as well as some translating. Please report any ideas that you deem useful to her by the end of every week for her to sort through and deliver to me.” 

You almost want to call Manager Chen crazy for giving you so much power, after all, you were only starting out as her assistant. Despite this, however, you were determined to go above and beyond with the new responsibilities given to you, after all, you knew that choosing to work in an organization as big as JYPE would take blood, sweat, and tears. 

After some clarifications given by Manager Chen and a few more questions directed at her, Manager Kim took the reins back in his hands. 

“Now, as I’m sure you all know, this is Bang Chan: the leader of Stray Kids. Although our management team is in charge of this debut, we like to include the opinions of artists whenever possible. He will make an appearance whenever he can and act as a representative of Stray Kids, sharing their ideas and opinions.” Manager Kim explained. 

Bang Chan politely introduced himself, and quickly went on to express some concerns of his members. He made sure that each concern was answered thoroughly by Manager Kim before moving on to the next. 

“As for our concept ideas,” Bang Chan’s soft brown eyes met yours, “will I have to report to y/n?” 

You felt your ears redden. 

“You could, yes,” Manager Kim straightened his back, “but if you find the weekly deadlines too much of a problem, you may just report to me or at any subsequent meeting.” 

“No worries sir,” Bang Chan’s eyes lingered on yours for a fraction of a second more before grinning at Manager Kim, “I’m always punctual.”  

The rest of the meeting consisted of more introductions and preliminary plans. After about an hour, everybody seemed satisfied with the contents of the meeting and were starting to pack up all their clutter on the table. You looked over at Manager Chen, silently asking what should I do next? 

Manager Chen smiled. “Let's head to my floor. I can give you a quick tour, you can get settled at your desk. I have some paperwork that I’m almost done with; I’m sure you’ll have no problem finishing it for me.” She already was standing up and straightening over the creases of her jacket. 

You stood up as well and followed behind Manager Chen like a lost baby duckling. You both made your way over to Manager Kim to bid farewell. You politely thanked him, said your goodbyes, and were about to leave when he stopped the two of you. 

“Manager Chen, let’s go out for drinks tonight.” Manager Kim took a look at the intricate watch on his wrist. “With our whole team, of course. It’ll be a welcoming night and we can get to know the people on our team better.” 

“That’s a great idea, Manager Kim,” Manager Chen nodded at his idea in approval. She turned on her iPad to quickly get a glimpse at her schedule. “What do you think y/n? Can you make it tonight? I know this is very last moment, but I think it’ll be a great opportunity for you to get to know your coworkers better.” 

“I should be able to make it.” You definitely could make it. You had no plans anyways. 

“Am I invited to this top secret party you’re all having?” A now very distinguishable voice came from behind you. Bang Chan stared at Manager Kim with a very mischievous expression. 

“Would your manager allow it?” Manager Kim questioned, knitting his eyebrows. 

“I’m on a diet, so I can’t drink alcohol or eat anything,” Bang Chan’s nose scrunched up in annoyance, “but I want to be as involved as I can. Just because I’m an idol doesn’t mean I can’t help behind the scenes as well.”

“Very well,” Manager Kim nodded with a fixed expression, “Let’s all meet at that restaurant about a block away west. I’ll go tell the others.” And with that, Manager Kim left you, Manager Chen, and Bang Chan to stand in awkward silence. 

“Well,” Bang Chan cleared his throat and clapped his hands together, “I’ll get going as well to do some work now, but it was nice meeting the both of you.” 

“You as well.” Manager Chen replied for the both of you and Bang Chan left soon after. 

Manager Chen then led you to the elevators again and you headed up yet another few floors to reach your destination. You nervously fiddled with your hair as you silently waited behind your boss, looking up at the smooth lines of her blazer every few seconds. The elevator doors dinged, letting you know of its arrival. The two of you swiftly headed out the elevators and walked to what you presumed was Manager Chen’s office area. You kept following behind Manager Chen in silence before you stopped in front of a set of doors that looked identical to the ones at the previous meeting room. Manager Chen opened the doors for you, and you headed in. 

You paused a step in, looking wide-eyed at the interior. The office was clean. A big glass desk sat right in the middle of the vast room in front of a huge set of windows. There were a couple of soft looking chairs placed right before the desk with a huge rug right underneath it. Over to your left, you spotted a water dispenser with a kettle right beside it. You stared at the room a bit longer before realizing you must have looked very stupid with that astonished look on your face. 

“Is this your office, Manager Chen?” You asked. 

“Yes. It seems that you like it,” She chuckled. You felt the heat rise to your ears. 

“Since you’ll be working so close to me, I’m sure you’ll be happy to come here more often.” 

“Thanks.” You awkwardly laughed. You blamed your bad response on the fact that you still weren’t familiar with the language, not your blatant awkwardness. 

Manager Chen made her way over to her desk, picking up a small stack of papers. “These are some letters I’ve received from several designer companies in China. Since we are still in the very preliminary stages of this project, we would like to keep our options open for the stylists here.” She picks an annotated letter from the pile. “I’ve translated and created a summary of the main points of this letter. There are a few more left which I believe I can trust you with. Just do as I did with this letter and add the sample pictures along with it.”

You quickly complied, taking the stack of papers from her hands. 

“I’ll show you to your new work space.” She led you out of your office and over to a cubicle that wasn’t too far away. It was considerably smaller compared to Manager Chen’s office, but you thought it had a certain coziness to it. Plus, working close to your coworkers could also boost your motivation. “Here is your desk, it’s not the most exciting thing, but you may bring photos or whatnot to decorate it. Now, I’ll let you settle in and get started on your work. You can meet me at my office around six, I can double check your work before we leave.” 

You thanked her before she left and immediately got started on your work. You diligently translated the whole of the letters before picking out the main points that matched with Manager Chen’s example. After this was done, you included the photos that came with each letter and slipped them into their own cozy folder. This work was monotonous, sure, but it was something you needed on your hectic first day here. 

You were so captivated by your work that you completely forgot about the time. The sun was starting to set, and you only remembered to look at the time after you tucked your last letter neatly in its folder. You briefly panicked, praying that you weren’t making your manager wait. Thankfully, it was only a quarter until six. You took the next fifteen minutes double checking your work, making sure to also check the time every once in a while. At exactly six, you left your desk and scurried over to the big doors of Manager Chen’s office. 

Knocking a couple times, you waited patiently to be let in. 

“Come in.” 

You let yourself in, handing the papers to your manager, then sat quietly in one of the chairs before her desk, crossing your fingers together. You fiddled with your thumbs, patiently waiting for Manager Chen to speak up. 

“Not bad, this is some decent work.” Manager Chen announced as soon as she finished glossing over your work. “I’ve noted some places that you can either fix or improve. I’ll scan them and hand you a copy tomorrow.” 

You let out a breath that you didn’t know you were holding. A tidal wave of relief washed over you as you let yourself relax further into your chain. Not bad, this is some decent work. You proudly repeated this moment in your brain. Although you were disappointed with the mistakes that you let slip through, to get somewhat of a compliment on your first day meant a lot to you. 

“Shall we get going now?” Manager Chen asked. 

You grabbed your bag and stood up. “I’ll let you lead the way.” 

                                                         _______

It seemed like all you were doing on your first day was following Manager Chen around like a lost puppy. The situation right now was no exception either, as you tried to copy her confident strides over to the restaurant a block down. You watched the busy rush hour streets and sidewalks fill with people, some people going home after a long day, some people going to party just like you.

Soon, after a few more minutes of walking, the both of you arrived at the small wooden doors of the restaurants. It seemed like the both of you were a bit late as Manager Kim was already waiting in front of the entrance with the rest of the team. Bang Chan was also there, head down looking at his phone. 

“Sorry we’re late, have you been waiting for long?” Manager Chen somehow sounded confident despite making everybody wait on her.

Her voice seemed to have caught everybody’s attention. You watched as Bang Chan swiftly turned his head up from his phone, his eyes making contact with yours. You immediately focused your eyes somewhere else, trying to casually play off the fact that your eyes subconsciously drifted to him. 

“We’ve only been waiting for a couple minutes.” Manager Kim gave a tight smile. “Let’s go in before you all get too cold.” 

Your little group of around ten people slowly entered the doors, filling the restaurant. Manager Kim called over a waitress, signaling that you had ten people in your group, and let the waitress lead you all to a long wooden table. 

The restaurant was nice, nothing too fancy, but that’s how you could tell the food was good. With dim lighting and tightly packed tables, it made you feel fuzzy and warm on the inside. 

However, your thoughts on the restaurant were soon broken by a hand on your shoulder. 

“Y/n, why don’t you sit with me?” Manager Kim’s lips curled up, “After all, this is a work gathering, how good of a boss would I be if I didn’t even treat my newest team member to a drink?” 

Your brain was in shambles. You seriously didn’t feel comfortable sitting with him all night. However, the logical side of your brain was saying something different. He’s just being nice as a boss. You don’t know how people in this country act anyways, stop being paranoid. 

It seemed like your inner turmoil was taking longer than necessary, as you heard another familiar voice speak up. 

“Manager Kim-” Bang Chan called out. 

“You don’t need to sit with me here, Bang Chan.” Manager Kim chuckled as he stared directly in Bang Chan’s eyes. “I’d rather not talk about work outside the office.”

You watched as Bang Chan’s eyebrows furrowed, looking back to you in reluctance. You smiled at him before turning your attention to Manager Kim. It was just one night, right? Plus, there’s no harm in establishing a good impression with your boss. 

“I’ll sit with you, Manager Kim.” You smiled, “thanks for offering.”

And so, you took your seat next to Manager Kim at the table. Bang Chan, who was to your left, looked askance at Manager Kim for a brief second before his facial expression did a complete 180. His familiar, boy-ish smile was plastered on his face like it was the most natural thing. 

When the menus came, everybody at the table — including you — started to order onslaughts of food and alcohol. After brief moments of casual chatter about topics such as the weather or how good the food was here, everything that was ordered arrived at your table.

You grabbed a can of beer and started sipping on it. You’ve drank before — of course — with your old friends at university, but it’s been at least a year since you last did. Better ease myself in. You thought. 

However, your preconceived plans were ruined when a small glass of clear liquor got pushed in front of you. 

“Y/n, surely you aren’t going to sip on that can all night.” The ends of Manager Kim’s lips curled up. 

“Wasn’t planning to, sir.” You replied while tipping the glass up and into your mouth. The bitter liquid burned your throat as it went down. You took a moment to recollect your surroundings. Seems like your tolerance was higher than you thought. 

“Bang Chan, do you not drink? Why not eat something then?” Manager Chen pointed to the food on the table. 

“No can do ma’am, I’m on a strict diet. My manager would kill me.” Bang Chan pointed to his glass of water. 

“In that case,” Manager Chen filled another glass, “Y/n, have another drink.” She slid the glass down the table in front of you. 

You gladly accepted your second drink, downing the alcohol in one go. Your eyes instinctively squeezed together as you felt your throat burn. From the tips of your ears to the ends of your toes, your whole body felt warm and alive. 

You lost track of the time. As your conversations got livelier, your head got fuzzier. You stopped counting your drinks after four, especially since so many people were eager to offer the new employee a drink. Although your vision was starting to blur, you could still think straight. I can still think, you thought to yourself, still — what a powerful buzz.

Your thoughts ran rampant in your mind as you stared at the lightbulb across the room. What a pretty light. So bright. Warm. 

“Y/n.”

Was the light calling your name? 

“Y/n!” 

Your eyes focused again and snapped away from the lightbulb. Where was the voice coming from? You slowly turned your head. Bang Chan.

“Hi.” You smiled. 

“Hi.” He smiled back. So bright. Warm. “It’s been hours and I haven’t even offered you a drink yet.” 

You tried to focus your eyes on his face as he slid the glass over to you. One more drink wouldn’t hurt your buzz, right?  

You gladly accepted, slowly moving your hand over to the glass to pick the clear liquid up. It went down in one go just like all the others. 

Huh? Was this water? 

You struggled to focus your eyes on the person who offered you the drink. “That was yummy.” 

“I bet it was,” the talking blur chuckled, “How about another one?”

You nodded, then took the glass he slid towards you. It’s funny how water flows even when in a cup. Water. You needed to pee. 

“Hey,” your words dragged out, “where’s uh, where’s the washroom?”

“Follow me. I’ll show you.” Manager Kim stood up and reached his hand out towards you. You didn’t want to take it, but it seemed like nobody was noticing his offer. 

Reluctantly, you took his hand and stood up, only to stumble down again. Did your knees not want to listen? 

“Whoa there, better hold on.” Manager Kim said. 

“No, I can walk. I-I can walk.” You let go of Manager Kim and tried to focus all your brainpower on moving your feet in a straight line. This tactic only worked for a second, however, as your knees gave in and you stumbled down. 

“It’s obvious that you can’t.” Manager Kim’s lips turned up. “It’s time for you to go home. I’ll take you back.” 

What? No. You didn’t want Manager Kim to take you home, not after all the awkward events of today and the general vibe from him. You tried to express your thoughts, but nothing came out of your mouth. 

“Manager Kim, you’ve been drinking!” Bang Chan’s voice came from some part of the room. “It’s not safe to drive, I’ll call a taxi for you.” 

“What about Y/n here? I’ll get a taxi for us both.” Manager Kim said. 

“I called my manager earlier to pick me up, we can drop her off along the way. It’s not a good idea to put two drunk people in a car. I’m completely sober right now, so let me do all the work.” Bang Chan grinned, patting Manager Kim on his shoulder. 

“Is that what you want, Y/n?” Manager Kim glared. 

You dizzily nodded. 

“Alright. In that case, I can call my own taxi later.” Manager Kim grimaced. 

“Stay safe, Manager Kim.” Bang Chan smiled. He turned to you. “My manager’s been waiting outside for a while now, do you want to leave now?” 

You nodded. You tried to start walking again, but your damn knees just wouldn’t listen. 

“Do you want to hold on to me?” Bang Chan knitted his brows together and held out an arm.

“I,” you slurred, “can walk.” You tried to start your feet again, only to end up stumbling down. 

“I know you can,” Bang Chan said as he reached his hands out to stabilize you, “but — ah —  I’m really tired after today. Can you hold on to my arm so I won’t fall out of exhaustion?” 

You agreed to help him. Bang Chan waved to everybody still at the table before leading the two of you out to a black SUV. He allowed you to stumble your way in the back seats first before sliding in himself. He asked you for your address, which took many tries for you to accurately type it into his phone. 

You leaned your head against the window, staring at passing blurred lights as Bang Chan’s manager started driving. Just being away from the loud and bright environment seemed to have cleared your head a little, but the pounding would not stop. You cursed yourself for being so irresponsible on your first day, especially because you were still alone in this new country.   

“Hey,” you felt a gentle tap on your shoulder, “want some water?” You looked over to see Bang Chan holding out a plastic bottle with the lid screwed off. 

You languidly reached your hand out for the bottle and gulped down as much water as you could in one breath before handing it back to him. The street lights started getting blurrier as you tried to fight exhaustion, the muscles in your eyelids starting to get more and more uncontrollable. 

“Y/n.” 

“Hmm?”

“Don’t fall asleep yet, we’re almost there. Ten more minutes.” 

You couldn’t hear anything after that, however, as you felt your eyes give up on you and your body fall into a deep sleep. 

“Y/n… Y/n.” A familiar voice called.

You fluttered your eyes open, your head pounding. Not knowing where you were, you surveyed your surroundings in a panic. It seemed as though you were in the back of a car… Parked outside of your apartment building? 

“Hey, you’re finally awake.” Bang Chan’s voice entered your ear. It all came rushing back to you; the restaurant, the drinking, entering the SUV. 

“How long have we been parked here?” Your groggy voice sounded inhuman. You had to clear your throat a couple times. 

“It’s only been twenty or so minutes. I’m not allowed to leave the car, are you able to get home alone? I can ask my manager to go with you.” Bang Chan scratched the back of his neck. 

“I should be fine.” You mumbled, a bit embarrassed to have fallen asleep in the car of a person you just met that day. This wasn’t even his car, it was his manager’s. 

“Hey… can I put my number in your phone?” Bang Chan avoided your eyes. “Just so you can tell me when you get home.” He quickly added. 

“Okay.” You awkwardly handed him your phone with your contacts already opened. He quickly typed his phone number in before handing it back to you. 

“Text me when you get home. Remember to lock your door, okay?” 

You thank both him and his manager before hurrying back to your apartment. Your head was still pounding unrelentlessly as you pressed the elevator button for your floor. The events of today were still unprocessed in your brain. You met a potential friend, which was a highlight. However, you also met two higher up managers and an actual idol, only to get hilariously drunk in the presence of. At least it’ll make a good story to tell my mom. You thought. 

In no time, you made it in your apartment and locked the door behind you, remembering what Bang Chan told you in the car. You texted the new number in your phone. 

Y/n: Hi. It’s y/n. I just entered my apartment.

Not even a minute later, your phone lit up, signaling a new text message. 

Bang Chan: great!! remember to lock the doooor hahaha ( ◕ω◕✿ )

You subconsciously grin at your phone. Cute. Throwing your phone haphazardly on your bed, you begrudgingly began your night routine. After washing up and throwing on a random shirt from your closet, you fell on your bed ready to sleep. You were about to close your eyes when your phone lit up again with a ding. It was another text.

Bang Chan: Hey… Just so you know, if you ever feel unsafe around the office just tell me okay? I’ll always try to help you in whatever way I can.

[taephilia]

lost (myself) & found (you)

pairing: jeon jungkook x gn!reader

genre: fluff, soulmate au, based off of kimi no na wa

warnings: one (1) swear word

word count: 2,120

a/n: i saw this quote from the movie and inspiration just struck and i haven't been able to get it out of my head since. ofc i wrote this for jungkook since he's a weeb and said he would also want to hear bells ring when he meets his soulmate <3 also this is not edited lol i'll come back to it later, i just wanted to get this out

"Once in a while when I wake up, I find myself crying. The dream I must’ve had I can never recall. But… the sensation that I’ve lost something, lingers for a long time after I wake up." - Tachibana Taki, Kimi No Na Wa (2016)

Jungkook isn’t sure how long he’s felt like this—felt like something is missing, something important, something that his heart just can’t seem to let go of even if his brain has already forgotten. He knows that he dreams of whatever it is. He recalls scenes as he goes about his day; a loud laugh here, a brush of a hand against his there. People that he’s never seen before walking by him in a city he’s never been to, music playing on the radio that he’s never heard, a family that he comes home to that he doesn’t recognize at all. It’s all very strange and Jungkook is starting to wonder if maybe the late night ramen he’s built up a habit of eating has gone bad or maybe the unhealthy amounts of salt in it are the cause behind this. Because it was all fun and games until Jungkook’s heart starts to ache, like it’s calling out to someone that his brain can’t even conjure up an image for. Someone that he would search the ends of the cosmos for, someone that, whenever he feels like he gets close to them, slips right through his fingers like grains of sand. But he shakes it off whenever the feeling comes and ignores the heavy feeling in his chest in favor of paying attention to that day’s classes. If he had somehow found his soulmate, it definitely wouldn’t be someone in his hometown in the countryside.

Soulmate. That’s who his grandfather had told him he’s been dreaming about ever since Jungkook confessed almost two months ago about the reason behind his ever-present furrowed brows and faraway look in his eyes. He says that it had happened to him when he was around Jungkook’s age but, like most dreams, he’s forgotten who it was. He then went on to talk about the red thread of fate and that’s when Jungkook started tuning out. It’s a nice concept to think about when you’re a child—a red string tied around your pinky that connects you to the person that you’re destined to be with—but it’s just a myth and Jungkook doesn’t have time to think about things that aren’t real. Not when he barely has the time to think about the things that are real, like college entrance exams and graduating from high school.

So he buries his head in his books and pours every last drop of blood, sweat, and tears into his studies to get into his dream college in Seoul. The yearning in his heart doesn’t go away but it’s eclipsed by the pure exhaustion that he feels at the end of every day. And, like most dreams, he forgets.

Jungkook is 23 when he seriously begins to wonder whether or not he’s going crazy. He had thought he was going over the deep end while in college but hearing bells go off? Now that takes the cake. It happens at random; he never knows when the bells in his head will ring (and Jungkook knows that only he can hear them because nobody around him ever gives any sort of indication that they’ve heard them) no matter how much he tries to prepare for it. He checks his surroundings every day, eyes scanning over the crowds of people weaving around him in Seoul, but it’s no use. The only consistent location that they seem to chime in is when he’s on the metro and even then, it’s on random days, at random times, and not always at the same stop.

He’s not the type to go chasing after fairy tales, or at least, he isn’t anymore. He doesn’t have time to think hard and long about what these imaginary bells could mean, not when he has a job to do and people to impress and money to be made. And his grandfather died during his second year of college so the only conversation of “soulmates” that occurs now are the ones he has with himself in his head and the memories of their conversations years ago. But as fate would have it, Jungkook took a couple of days off to get an early start to the weekend and he is just itching for an adventure. So when he hears the bells go off while he’s making his way to his connecting train, he closes his eyes for a brief moment and puts himself into the hands of fate.

Jungkook allows his feet to carry him where they want, observing his surroundings and keeping an eye out for any person who gives any sort of indication to hearing something that they shouldn’t be hearing. He climbs up the stairs and out of the station, not giving any attention to the people who side-eye him for standing still on a bustling sidewalk, but looks down at his hand instead. In particular, at his pinky, which feels like there’s something squeezing at it. Like… like a thread that’s been tied snugly around it.

The red thread of fate, a voice in his head whispers to him and Jungkook almost chuckles out loud at the thought. And then almost laughs out loud again because, although he doesn’t believe in soulmates, his actions say otherwise. Because as much as Jungkook doesn’t believe in soulmates… Well, the thought of them and the red thread of fate being real is nice, isn’t it? Someone that you’re destined to be with, connected to by a string that can tangle and stretch but will never fray, keeping you tied to them for all eternity. It’s a comforting thought, especially when he thinks of his extremely lacking love life that comes with his high standards and fear of rejection.

Jungkook passes by a bakery during his fate-led walk and just as he’s considering stopping in to buy something, he hears the bells again. A light sound, one that could be mistaken for a phone notification, but one that he knows very well. But Jungkook’s soulmate must be as used to the sound as he is because no one around him gives any sort of indication that they’re also in search of him. And after an hour and a half of walking around a part of the city that he isn’t too familiar with, he’s ready to call it quits for the night. So Jungkook makes his way to the nearest metro station and gets on a train home.

Of course, that’s when he hears the bells again.

He looks up from his phone and around the crowded train but nobody has been able to move since the doors closed. And if it were someone near him, he would have heard them before. There’s a flash out of the corner of his eye and when Jungkook looks up and out the window of the sliding doors, he sees a pair of eyes staring back. A pair of eyes that are not his but in fact belong to someone in a train traveling right next to his. They stare right at him and mirror his own when they widen at the exact same time as his. But just as soon as Jungkook finds you, he loses you just as quickly when your train goes in a different direction.

Jungkook spends the entire day the next day looking for you. He manages to cross off everything on his “things to do when I’m in Seoul” bucket list that he’s been adding on to for the past 10 years. His feet hurt, his wallet feels significantly lighter than when he first left his apartment, and he’s wondering how much weight he lost from walking what feels like the entire expanse of Seoul three times over. And even after all that, he hasn’t heard the bells. Not once.

And it’s at this point, when Jungkook decides to eat dinner at his favorite ramen shop before calling it a night, that he begins to wonder if he had missed his chance last night. Not like it was much of a chance considering the fact that you were on a different train and he had no way of getting to you. But fate is cruel, isn’t that what some people say? Maybe his thread is just so tangled, so frayed, that it’ll take a lifetime before he’s able to get another glimpse at you. And Jungkook just isn’t that patient.

He can barely even remember what you look like anymore. Maybe it’s the hunger eating away at his stomach and the aching of his feet but as he eats his ramen, he can only recall vague details about you. Like how he wants to drown in your eyes, how soft your skin looks even through two dirty train door windows, and how he thinks your shiny hair probably smells nice - like vanilla or peaches or something. But your face? Absolutely nothing. It’s like he blacked out the second he looked up at you last night.

Jungkook leans back in his seat as he sips at his water, staring out the window of the shop as if you would walk past right that second. But you don’t. So Jungkook throws a couple of bills down onto the table for a tip and heads out, a sigh leaving his lips when he looks around but doesn’t hear any bells. Now that he’s had a chance to sit down and eat, he feels a bit more rational and more determined to find you—but that can wait until tomorrow after he’s had a good night’s sleep. It’s a bit later in the evening so there’s barely anyone around him as he makes his way to the nearest metro station that will take him home. Jungkook is just about to descend the stairs when something makes him stop. He’s not really sure what it is that he stops for; the bus honking on the street beside him or the group of friends laughing as they walk by him? Or perhaps it’s the person at the bottom of the stairs, their eyes looking down as they climb up, but Jungkook just knows that it’s you.

Well, he doesn’t actually know. He’s pretty sure it’s you. It feels like it’s you. But is that fate talking or just his hopeful heart? Jungkook decides not to say anything and slowly walks down the stairs. The bells will tell him if he’s right. Your eyes glance up and meet his and Jungkook sees them widen, but like him, you don’t say anything. Are you waiting to hear your own bells?

He shoves his hands deep into the pocket of his hoodie, eyes quickly darting away from yours to stare holes into the ground as he keeps walking. His heart beats faster with every step and he has to resist the urge to just stare at you point blank because he needs to know and-

He hears the bells. And it’s like a weight is taken off of his shoulders.

But he keeps walking. And you keep walking. And now Jungkook is panicking because why the fuck is he still walking? You’re his soulmate, he found you, so why isn’t he stopping? Jungkook tries to get his feet to stop moving, to just turn around and call out to you but he can’t. What would he even say? ‘Hey, you’? He doesn’t even know your name. ‘I think you’re my soulmate’? How disgustingly cliche. What if you don’t even care that he’s your soulmate? What if you’re already seeing someone? What if he’s the only one that can hear the bells for you and you hear them for someone else? What if-

“Um, excuse me?”

Jungkook almost trips on the last step from how fast he turns around at the sound of your voice. His hands feel clammy but he keeps them in his pocket otherwise you’d be able to see how they’re shaking ever so slightly. He drags his eyes up to yours and suddenly, every bit of anxiety he felt is suddenly gone. Is this what it’s supposed to feel like?

“Have we met before? You seem really familiar.”

You’re at the top of the stairs now but you step down a few steps, as if you want to get closer. Jungkook climbs back up a few steps because he does want to get closer. There’s an easy smile on his face as he says, “Found you.”

He isn’t sure where it came from. He isn’t even exactly sure what he means. But it feels like the right thing to say, like something that he’s vaguely remembering from a dream he had a long time ago. And judging from the matching smile on your own face, you know what Jungkook means.

“Took you long enough.”

[script-nef]

So why won’t you realise it '^' | Gojou Satoru

Category: fluff

1.9k words; Movie date [2/6]

Spoilers of Howl’s Moving Castle!! Beware!!

← Previous chapter | Masterlist

“Eh, Shouko! What do you mean you can’t make it?”

“I mean, another person is about to come in and they need me to heal them. By the time I’m done the movie will be finished.” Shouko’s voice over the phone is laced with annoyance and sadness coupled with lethargy. You don’t know how she pulls off such a unique combination of emotions but she somehow accomplishes it every time. “And I was looking forward to it…”

This would have been the first time you had a break with her since the trip to France. And while she enjoyed it a lot, the same couldn’t be said for the two males. Which was weird since Gojou is infatuated with sweets and Ken-chan agreed to come. So it was kind of weird when there was a tense atmosphere between them. You know your brother and Gojou are nearly polar opposites, but their animosity wasn’t usually that strong. 

They brushed it off as nothing when you asked if something was wrong, which was sort of dubious since you could kind of see the black cloud looming over the both of them, but you let it go. If it was something important, they would be able to handle it themselves or report it to you. You couldn’t sense any cursed spirits nearby so you guessed that they were just in a bad mood for some reason.

Still, you had a wonderful time and found some new snacks that everyone enjoyed. So a day well spent, all in all. 

And Ken-chan told you to tell him if Gojou ever offers overseas trips or anything similar, so he must have enjoyed it. Maybe you can ask Gojou to take all of you to Denmark one day.

“Ah… my dear Howl. Life and curses separate us again.” Her voice is full of sadness now, no doubt mourning over her chance of watching her favourite character on a huge screen with surround sound disappearing. 

“It’s okay! I’ll bring you the figurine and we can watch it again here in about… uh…”

“Ten years?” She sounds like she’s about to drop dead.

“Uh… yes… But maybe five years? Hopefully? You know, I shouldn’t watch it without you. I’ll come back to school.” 

“No, no. Watch the movie. At least you’ll get to see it. Ah, they’re coming now so I have to go.”

“Ah, okay. Bye, Shouko! Stay positive!”

A non-committal sigh accompanies a small “Bye” before the call clicks off. A frown takes over your face at the lost opportunity for her. She was looking forward to this for a long time and you leapt at the chance for another girls’ day out. Being able to watch a childhood favourite is an added bonus. But now you’re standing in the movie theatre, the ticket desk just across the room and an extra on your hand. 

It’s a shame because it cost quite a lot. Shouko is definitely going to mope about this when you get back and maybe start smoking again. She always has a pack on her even if she said she quit, and smokes one if she’s stressed or angry. You should call someone and make sure somebody takes it away from her.

You should probably hold onto the ticket and give it back. Or maybe that would make it worse for her, serving as a reminder of this day. Conflict rages inside your head. There’s a high possibility of either decision breaking her heart. Again. A buzz from your phone saves you the trouble of deciding.

Shouko: I sent someone as my replacement. 

A tap on the shoulder makes you turn as you type in a reply and you come face to face with a black jacket. Gojou’s head pops down.

“Hey there. I think you called for a replacement!” He seems to be in a ridiculously good mood, even more so than usual. Maybe his students successfully finished another mission. Which is great. It also means more paperwork for you. Which is not so great.

“How did you com—ah. Teleportation.”

“Ding ding ding! Correct!” He's been using the skill more frequently lately, popping in and out of places like one of those Whac-A-Mole games. . It gives you heart attacks all the time and you’re sure he gets a kick out of it. You saw how his smiles widen when you flinch or react. Thankfully it’s when you’re alone so other people never see you jump what feels like a metre into the air.

“Do you want popcorn?” He breaks you out of your thoughts. “I think they have the new caramel flavour. Apparently it’s way too sweet.” So perfect for Gojou. Even though he’s asking if you want it, there’s a spring in his step which definitely means he’s getting some. Probably the biggest option they have.

And you’re proven right because he comes back with two huge buckets which look impossible to finish. When you try to object, he cuts off with “I’ve eaten three buckets before. Alone.” With the smile he’s giving you, it really doesn’t sound like he’s joking. You try to take one to lighten the load but he says it’s alright. 

He signals the way to the theatre rooms with his head, walking beside you as you find your way.

“So what’s the movie?” Your head snaps to him in confusion.

“You don’t know?” A shake and a shrug. “It’s Howl’s Moving Castle. This was Shouko’s idea since she loves it and this year is Studio Ghibli’s 40 year anniversary. The cinema is having an exclusive showing of their movies this month. Only one session per movie, for some reason. Surely they would make more money if they played it over multiple days, but. I dunno. Executives make weird decisions.” A light scoff from him to tell he knows exactly what that’s like. His hatred for the higher-ups runs deep. You don’t push it.

“So she wanted to come but got held back at the last minute?”

“Yeah. Ah, here are our seats.”

You’re placed in the very middle of the room and you both make yourselves comfortable. Shouko went all out for this movie, upgrading the seats and making it a recliner. Your poor back, abused after sitting in chairs and hunched over computers for so long, practically melts into the plush cushion. It’s so comfortable that you might fall asleep in it if it isn’t Howl that’s about to start. 

Feet dangling in the air, you look over to Gojou to see him on his phone. It looks like he’s in a chatroom and you catch the words ‘Shouko’ and ‘favour’ before looking away. You didn’t mean to peek, but it’s not like you can consciously not read something. It was in your line of sight and you averted your eyes as soon as you realised what you were reading. Your brother brought you up better than to pry into other people’s businesses, even if it’s really, really tempting.

“Phones need to be placed on silent, you know.” The ads are coming on the screen. He smiles at you, slipping it into his pocket.

“Just talking to Shouko. She says she hasn’t even started properly.”

Disappointment fills you. Gojou is a good friend to watch this with but you hoped Shouko would somehow miraculously finish in time. She would be devastated.

“I’ll have to make this up to her when we get back. Give her the figurine and keep her hap—ah! I forgot! Gojou, I was supposed to ask someone to take her ciga—” He cuts you off with a light pat on your hand.  

“Don’t worry, I did it already. All of them are safe out of her reach and I gave her packets of hot chocolate instead. When we get back, she’ll have drunk at least half of them and be in a good mood.” What a Gojou-like replacement. He smiles like a child wanting pats on the head for a job well done. You just barely catch yourself from moving. 

Gojou gets a rep for being aloof and neglectful, but he does take care of the people he holds dear to him. His friends, members of the school, his students. You hope you’re included in the list. 

Actually, the more you think about it, the more you realise he’s different from initial perceptions. You learn more and more about him as time goes on, in the most delightful sense. He’s somewhat like an onion, new characteristics being revealed every time a layer is peeled. A snicker escapes at the thought of Gojou dressed up like an onion, just waddling around. He shoots you a questioning head tilt which you wave off.

In the years that you’ve known him, he made himself into a trustworthy friend. One full of laughs and ridiculousness. Maybe it’s his childishness that puts you at ease, but he’s incredibly comfortable and easy to relax around. Thoughts trail and the words fly out of your mouth before you even think.

“You know, I think you would make a wonderful boyfriend.”

He freezes completely, like somebody’s zapped him in place. You stare at him, wondering what’s wrong, but the lights dim and by the time he gathers coherence, your concentration is on the opening sequence.

“Ah, that was so good! Ugh, I love Howl. Isn’t he so cool?” You skip out of the room, remembering to take the figurines provided at the exit, with Gojou trailing behind you. “You know how she asks him to wait for her in the past? The first thing he says to her in the movie is ‘I’ve been looking everywhere for you.’ He searched for her the entire time! This is modern poetry. This.” 

“Do you think Howl would be a good boyfriend?” The question stops you. It’s different than usual for some reason, the voice asking the question and the intensity of it. He’s still his aloof self, all smiles and grins, but there’s something you can’t quite place that’s wrong. It’s unnerving, but you diligently answer his question.

“Um, I mean, yeah? Look at how cute he is with Sophie. See?” The figurine is a frozen shot of Howl and Sophie dancing in the rain with an umbrella that’s not being useful at all. They’re both incredibly detailed, so much so that you can see their clothes and skin drenching wet. Wow, this is actually a phenomenal job. Shouko will be so happy. It makes your heart lighter knowing that at least something might light up her day. 

“Why is he cool?” Gojou seems to be invested in Howl. It confuses you since he just watched the movie with you and he saw how awesome Howl is. 

“Hm, well for one he can do magic.” He opens his mouth but you shush him with a finger to his lips. “Yeah, I know, what we have is kind of like magic too. But theirs is just… different. He just makes it seem kind of elegant. And he overcame his fear just for Sophie. Remember the scene with Sulliman and in the cluttered bedroom? He still found the strength to protect her even though he was so scared before. It’s admirable. I guess I like strong guys.”

“Hmm~” His tone is contemplative. “You know I’m stronger than him, right?”

A question mark forms over your head. He’s being really weird today. “Yeah? You’re the strongest in the universe, silly. What’s up with you?” Gojou just chuckles and ruffles your head.

“Nothing, nothing. Just making sure you know.” He slings his arm around your shoulder, the intensity gone and the light spring in his step back. “Who else do you think is strong?”

Next chapter →

[skywardscroll]

divine intervention | venti

✧ word count: 2.5k

✧ summary: baring witness to world can become wearisome. venti, though you don’t really know him, wants to help.

✧ warnings: really angsty with some fluff thrown in! the reader has depression / there is self-deprecation. reader is also afab!

✧ a/n: this is so sweet >-< . i’m really proud of this one! also, writing klee is literally the funnest thing ever lol. <3 hope you guys enjoy!!

Teyvat, as you’d come to learn through your years, was a dangerous, merciless world. Every day, people lost their fathers, sisters, friends, and lovers. The world was full of greedy bandits and vicious monsters, and it only seemed to be getting worse as the days went by.

This last adventure out to Liyue had really taken the optimism out of you; Growing weary from traveling, you returned to your home in Mondstadt quite exhausted physically, mentally, and emotionally. Was there any other facet of you that could be exhausted? Because you were sure that it would also be stricken with strife.

You told the Adventurer’s Guild that you were temporarily retiring from your work to take a well-overdue vacation from fighting and the ever-arising political strain you witnessed every time you left the City of Freedom. You just wanted to enjoy your safe corner of the world, at least for the summer.

The (admittedly strange) way you decided to do this was by staying indoors with your books, sometimes going entire days without once stepping into the sunlight. It was a pleasant way to spend the time, but you knew it was unhealthy.

Your books, when the main characters shared similar habits to you, called this behavior ‘depression.’ Though, you willfully ignored this, pretending that this was normal of someone with a heavy heart (just a heavy heart. Not all the other symptoms that you were falsely denying you had, like an aversion to engagements with friends, or a neglect of hydration.)

It was one of the hottest days in July, you remembered, when you heard a knock on your door. You contemplated answering it, thinking that maybe the Adventurer’s Guild would want you back to work prematurely. This was quickly disproven, though, when a small voice called from outside the door:

“Miss Y/N? Oh, Miss Y/N~! Please come out!”

Klee’s sweet voice seemed to somehow wrap itself around your heart and pull you towards the door.

“Miss Y/N?”

You hesitated, knowing that once you saw that endearing child’s round eyes, you would be forced to play outside with her for as long as she wanted you to. You loved Klee dearly, and would do anything for her, even if you didn’t necessarily wish to go along with it. But you really didn’t feel like leaving your house, knowing that the Freedom Festival was currently in full swing.

“Y/N? Are you in there?” You recognize a second voice to belong to Grandmaster Jean.

Inhaling deeply, you opened the door to see Klee’s face light up as she excitedly pulled on Jean’s hand.

“She opened the door! She did! I told you Y/N would open the door!”

“Y/N!” Jean said, obviously surprised by your appearance. “It’s so good to see you’re well.”

“It’s good to see you two, as well.” You said with full honesty. You hadn’t realized it until you saw them before you, but you had certainly missed seeing your friends.

“Y/N! I wanted to ask if you wanted to go to the Freedom festival with us! There’ll be food, and music, and I overheard Rosaria saying something to Kaeya about special drinks!”

“Oh… I don’t know…”

“Come on! It’ll be fun! They have this game, and it has a prize that looks like a biiiig dodoco! I want it but if you come you can have it!” Klee’s excitement makes a smile appear on your face.

“You should come, Y/N. It would be good for you, I think.”

You sighed a little, looking back at your book which sat with the pages down against the cushion of your reading chair, waiting to be returned to. But as if by design, the wind carried the smell of food into your door and your stomach rumbled. Besides, Klee’s eyes were bearing into your heart just as you predicted, and you could see Jean’s hand clasp onto Klee’s a little tighter in hopes that she wouldn’t be disappointed.

“Alright, I’ll come.”

If you were to be frank, you had no idea what the difference between the Windblume Festival and the Freedom Festival was. To you, it just seemed like another concocted excuse to party. Which, in your youth, you never complained about, and you weren’t inclined to complain now, either, as Sara handed you a particularly delicious-looking chicken and mushroom skewer. You hadn’t eaten something like this in a month, and it was very welcome in your stomach.

“Over there! It’s Venti! Venti!” Klee went running ahead of you and Jean, who were idly speaking to one another as you finished off your food and threw the stick away.

“Klee! Don’t run off!” Jean called out, running after the young girl while you walked a bit behind, enjoying the scenery of Mondstadt decorated in flowers and it’s streets lined with vendors.

“Hi Klee!” You looked up and saw a man hug Klee tightly (a boy? He was quite short, but you were pretty sure he was an adult.) It was hard not to notice the golden lyre in his hand and how the strings seemed to be luminescent. You’d never seen anything like it before, and accidentally stared at it in clear awe.

“Do you play?” He asked, a smile that seemed to lift your heart was directed to you after the question left his lips.

“No… Not anymore. I tried to learn when I was a child but…”

“That’s alright. It takes a lot of practice, yeah?”

You let out a breathy laugh and nod, “Yeah, I guess so.”

Jean scooped up Klee into her arms before she could run off again. “You two haven’t met before?”

“Sadly no.” Venti said, placing his hand over his heart. “I would’ve remembered such a beautiful face, surely.”

Bard’s and their sweet words. You thought to yourself. Out of kindness, you only laughed in response to his compliment.

“I’m Y/N.”

“Ahh! I’ve heard of you! The exceptional adventurer!”

Why does this guy say everything so enthusiastically? Is this what you used to sound like? His way of speaking, though you felt guilty for it because you knew he couldn’t help it, grated against your nerves. You weren’t in the right mindset for his optimism. Or, perhaps, it was that you were jealous that he still had a hold on his, and so easily too, while it had been so long since you were excited about anything.

When you didn’t say anything, there was a small look in Venti’s eyes that told you he could see right through you, or that he was at least aware that something was wrong with you.

“Well, I ought to be on my way back home.” You said, causing Klee to whine out.

“Y/N~! You can’t go yet! What about the giant dodoco?”

You frowned, feeling guilty for letting Klee down, but feeling too exhausted for any more socialization.

“At least stay for a song, Y/N?” Venti offered with a quieter tone of voice, pointing to a chair that was left unoccupied by the gathering crowd around him.

“Yeah! Just one song~?” Klee pleaded.

You bit the inside of your cheek before eventually nodding and sitting in the chair. Klee let out a cheer of celebration as Jean sat down beside you, letting Klee sit in her lap. You noticed how Jean had been particularly silent throughout this. Did she feel bad for you? Or did she, too, want you to stay for some reason?

“I’ll sing a very special song for a new friend!” Venti announced to the audience, to which you blushed a little at the attention and rolled your eyes. Though, once Venti’s fingers started gracing the strings of his harp, all feelings of discomfort and irritation floated away.

“Sit here closely, let me tell,

of the young maiden’s heart who one day swelled.

The once frozen walls, the once salty tears,

Now gone with a kiss that she wished had lasted years.

In the times of old, long before the gods were bold,

there was no remedy for a heart gone cold.

The young maiden wandered, hoping for peace

from the heartache and unrest the world did unleash.

Did she find it, you ask? Did she find it? I’ll tell.

She found it in freedom, from freedom it fell.

For Barbatos did bless her, from under the Windrise tree,

She only had to meet him in the morning at three.

The warmth she had searched for, that unlike she had ever known

was hers, finally, to own.”

The crowd clapped for Venti as he finished his short song, one that was unfamiliar to you and unsettled you to no end.

What was his motive?

You weren’t stupid. You’d read enough of your books in the last month and been on enough adventures with a multitude of twists and turns to know that he had just come up with that song for you. As beautiful as it was, you felt uncomfortable with the stranger being able to see through you so well.

Yet, when he flashed you a cheeky smile while he reveled in the applause, you felt that he had good intentions. In fact, you wondered if he could do any wrong. He just didn’t seem like the type to do anything evil… Ever.

“Did you like it, Klee?” Venti asked, bending down to talk to the girl who wriggled excitedly in Jean’s lap.

“Yes! It was sooooo pretty! I’ve never heard it before!” She gushed.

“A very lovely song, indeed, Venti.”

“Thanks Jean!” Venti flashed her a confident grin.

“Well, Y/N! Thanks for staying for the show!” He said, standing back up and turning to you. “I hope I can see you again soon!”

“Yeah. See you soon.” You replied with a half-hearted tone.

You were entirely conflicted. Your mind was telling you no; You shouldn’t go out there tonight. It was dangerous and you were significantly out of shape to be dealing with slimes and hilichurls. Besides, it was just a song… What if you were reading too much into it? And what if… You just wanted him to be singing about you and him?

Your heart wanted that to be true. It’d be like the books you’ve been reading, where the prince comes up with some elaborate way of asking the maiden to meet him in secret. You were, no matter how hardened you became, a hopeless romantic at heart. Something about Venti made your heart soar from the pits of depression you had fallen into. You… Trusted him.

You could do with a late-night walk, you supposed.

It took longer than usual because of the festivities, but the city eventually fell silent as everyone either rested in their beds or in a tavern. You found walking in the empty city strangely comforting. Rather than being shut away from the world out of fear of pestering others, you could now walk freely without a single care, if you so pleased.

You took your time walking out of the city, smiling at every stray cat and even stopping for a moment at the bridge to admire the water. You missed how, when you were a young girl, you used to look at the lake and dream about visiting all the other lakes in the world. You’d seen a lot of them, now, but this one still held a special place in your heart.

Windrise, though it had been years since you visited the Archon Statue, was as beautiful as ever. The tree looked even more alive in the moonlight, if it were possible.

You were raised to believe that you were under the protection of Barbatos, though you never would call yourself devout. That title belonged to the sisters of the church, who were truly faithful to Barbatos. But you would feel comfortable saying you were a believer. You liked that Barbatos was so just, and his famous story of his liberation of old Mondstadt was a tale you frankly would never tire of.

Regardless, as you sat in front of the statue, you saw no signs of the charming bard from before. You wondered if he memorized that tale of Barbatos; A part of you wanted to hear him tell it.

“I’m a fool, aren’t I?” You said, talking to the statue (not talking to yourself.) “A silly, odd, hermit of a fool. One who shuts themselves away and avoids all their problems. How cowardly can I be?”

A peculiar phenomenon began: The words started pouring out like an uncontrollable waterfall. Once the self-deprecation started, it didn’t seem to want to end.

“My family was so proud to hear I was a part of the guild. They said that you – that Barbatos – had blessed me with the life of an adventurer – a life of freedom. Am I selfish to despise it? I don’t feel free. I feel heavy with all the troubles of the world. Outside Mondstadt it’s… Well, you’re a god, you know how it is.”

You hadn’t spoken much to anyone in over a month. You didn’t even know if anyone was listening. Was he listening? Did he see the tears starting to run down your face and did he hear the cracking in your voice?

“I feel like a joke. A witness to trouble without the power to make things right. It’s so… Frustrating. I hate myself because I hate the world. I’m so useless… So useless.”

And you cried, your head leant against the statue of Barbatos. The months of pain finally bubbled over and bared itself for the world and the gods to see. You were ashamed, and angry at yourself, but you let yourself cry. You cried up to the heavens, to Celestia. Was he watching? Listening?

“Y/N?” A voice softly spoke your name, but your sobs turned into wails immediately following and you couldn’t make yourself stop even if you wanted to.  You felt a pair of arms wrap around you and you hugged Venti back, breathing in his scent of Cecilia. He was so warm compared to the cool summer breeze that blew through the leaves above.

“I’m sorry.” You cried against his shirt; the words muffled but still understandable. There were so many apologies you were making with the single phrase: Sorry for crying, sorry for being rude. Sorry for shutting everyone who cares about me out. I’m sorry for being ungrateful. I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry.

“You don’t have to hide your tears from me, okay?” His voice was so soft and gentle as he pulled your head away from his chest and wiped away your ever-flowing tears from your cheeks.

This went on for a while, him running his thumbs over your cheeks every few minutes and catching the tears. You felt so awful that he was witnessing you like this, he barely knew you. But something in you was saying that this was right. Trust him, this is where you’re meant to be.

You calmed down enough about an hour later that he felt he could speak.

“Everything will be alright, Y/N.”

You let out a jagged exhale. At this point, your jaw was numb, and you were developing a headache. Still, being in Venti’s arms brought you comfort unlike anything you’d ever experienced. It was… Divine.

“Do you think he heard me? That he’s watching over me?”

Venti gave you the most assured, comforting smile you think is humanly possible. Brushing your hair from your face, he replied.

“I’ve never been so certain of anything.”